- Italy 1933 - Alpino - 1st Public Talk Stresa - 1st Public Talk Alpino - 2nd Public Talk Alpino - 3rd Public Talk Stresa - 2nd Public Talk Alpino - 4th Public Talk - Norway 1933 - Oslo - Talk In University Hall Frognerseteren - 1st Public Talk Frognerseteren - 2nd Public Talk Frognerseteren - 3rd Public Talk Oslo - Talk in Colosseum Frognerseteren - 4th Public Talk - Adyar 1933 - 1st Public Talk 2nd Public Talk 3rd Public Talk 4th Public Talk 5th Public Talk 6th Public Talk ALPINO, ITALY 1ST PUBLIC TALK 1ST JULY, 1933 Friends, I should like you to make a living discovery, not a discovery induced by the description of others. If someone, for instance, had told you about the scenery here, you would come with your minds prepared by that description, and then perhaps you would be disappointed by the reality. No one can describe reality. You must experience it, see it, feel the whole atmosphere of it. When you see its beauty and loveliness, you experience a renewing, a quickening of joy. Most people who think that they are seeking truth have already prepared their minds for its reception by studying descriptions of what they are seeking. When you examine religions and philosophies, you find that they have all tried to describe reality; they have tried to describe truth for your guidance. Now I am not going to try to describe what to me is truth, for that would be an impossible attempt. One cannot describe or give to another the fullness of an experience. Each one must live it for himself. Like most people, you have read, listened and imitated; you have tried to find out what others have said concerning truth and God, concerning life and immortality. So you have a picture in your mind, and now you want to compare that picture with what I am going to say. That is, your mind is seeking merely descriptions; you do not try to find out anew, but only try to compare. But since I shall not try to describe truth, for it cannot be described, naturally there will be confusion in your mind. When you hold before yourself a picture that you are trying to copy, an ideal that you are trying to follow, you can never face an experience fully; you are never frank, never truthful as regards yourself and your own actions; you are always protecting yourself with an ideal. If you really probe into your own mind and heart, you will discover that you come here to get something new; a new idea, a new sensation, a new explanation of life, in order that you may mould your own life according to that. Therefore you are really searching for a satisfactory explanation. You have not come with an attitude of freshness, so that by your own perception, your own intensity, you may discover the joy of natural and spontaneous action. Most of you are merely seeking a descriptive explanation of truth, thinking that if you can find out what truth is, you can then mould your lives according to that eternal light. If that be the motive of your search, then it is not a search for truth. It is rather for consolation, for comfort; it is but an attempt to escape the innumerable conflicts and struggles that you must face every day. Out of suffering is born the urge to seek truth; in suffering lies the cause of the insistent inquiry, the search for truth. Yet when you suffer - as every one does suffer - you seek an immediate remedy and comfort. When you feel momentary physical pain, you obtain a palliative at the nearest drug store to lessen your suffering. So also, when you experience momentary mental or emotional anguish, you seek consolation, and you imagine that trying to find relief from pain is the search for truth. In that way you are continually seeking a compensation for your pains, a compensation for the effort you are thus forced to make. You evade the main cause of suffering and thereby live an illusory life. So those people who are always proclaiming that they are searching for truth are in reality missing it. They have found their lives to be insufficient, incomplete, lacking in love, and think that by trying to seek truth they will find satisfaction and comfort. If you frankly say to yourself that you are seeking only consolation and compensation for the difficulties of life, you will be able to grapple with the problem intelligently. But as long as you pretend to yourself that you are seeking something more than mere compensation, you cannot see the matter clearly. The first thing to find out, then, is whether you are really seeking, fundamentally seeking truth. A man who is seeking truth is not a disciple of truth. Suppose that you say to me, "I have had no love in my life; it has been a poor life, a life of continuous pain; therefore, in order to gain comfort, I seek truth." Then I must point out that your search for comfort is an utter delusion. There is no such thing in life as comfort and security. The first thing to understand is that you must be absolutely frank. But you yourself are not certain what you really want: you want comfort, consolation, compensation, and yet, at the same time, you want something that is infinitely greater than compensation and comfort. You are so confused in your own mind that one moment you look to an authority who offers you compensation and comfort, and the next moment you turn to another who denies you comfort. So your life becomes a refined hypocritical existence, a life of confusion. Try to find out what you really think; do not pretend to think what you believe you ought to think; then, if you are conscious, fully alive in what you are doing, you will know for yourself, without self-analysis, what you really desire. If you are fully responsible in your acts, you will then know without self-analysis what you are really seeking. This process of finding out does not necessitate great will power, great strength, but only the interest to discover what you think, to discover whether you are really honest or living in illusion. In talking to groups of listeners all over the world, I find that more and more people seem not to understand what I am saying, because they come with fixed ideas; they listen with their biased attitude, without trying to find out what I have to say, but only expecting to find what they secretly desire. It is vain to say, "Here is a new ideal after which I must mould myself." Rather find out what you really feel and think. How can you find out what you really feel and think? From my point of view, you can do that only by being aware of your whole life. Then you will discover to what extent you are a slave to your ideals, and by discovering that, you will see that you have created ideals merely for your consolation. Where there is duality, where there are opposites, there must be the consciousness of incompleteness. The mind is caught up in opposites, such as punishment and reward, good and bad, past and future, gain and loss. Thought is caught up in this duality, and therefore there is incompleteness in action. This incompleteness creates suffering, the conflict of choice, effort and authority, and the escape from the unessential to the essential. When you feel that you are incomplete, you feel empty, and from that feeling of emptiness arises suffering; out of that incompleteness you create standards, ideals, to sustain you in your emptiness, and you establish these standards and ideals as your external authority. What is the inner cause of the external authority that you create for yourself? First, you feel incomplete, and you suffer from that incompleteness. As long as you do not understand the cause of authority, you are but an imitative machine, and where there is imitation there cannot be the rich fulfillment of life. To understand the cause of authority you must follow the mental and emotional process which creates it. First of all, you feel empty, and in order to get rid of that feeling you make an effort; by that effort you only create opposites; you create a duality which but increases the incompleteness and the emptiness. You are responsible for such external authorities as religion, politics, morality, for such authorities as economic and social standards. Out of your emptiness, out of your incompleteness, you have created these external standards from which you now try to free yourself. By evolving, by developing, by growing away from them you want to create an inner law for yourself. As you come to understand external standards, you want to liberate yourself from them, and to develop your own inner standard. This inner standard, which you call "spiritual reality", you identify with a cosmic law, which means that you create but another division, another duality. So you first create an external law, and then you seek to outgrow it by developing an inner law, which you identify with the universe, with the whole. That is what is happening. You are still conscious of your limited egotism, which you now identify with a great illusion, calling it cosmic. So when you say, "I am obeying my inner law", you are but using an expression to cover your desire to escape. To me, the man who is bound either by an external or an inner law is confined in a prison; he is held by an illusion. Therefore such a man cannot understand spontaneous, natural, healthy action. Now why do you create inner laws for yourself? Is it not because the struggle in everyday life is so great, so inharmonious, that you want to escape from it and to create an inner law which shall become your comfort? And you become a slave to that inner authority, that inner standard, because you have rejected only the outward picture, and have created in its place an inner picture to which you are a slave. By this method you will not attain true discernment, and discernment is quite other than choice. Choice must exist where there is duality. When the mind is incomplete and is conscious of that incompleteness, it tries to escape from it and therefore creates an opposite to that incompleteness. That opposite can be either an external or an inner standard, and when one has established such a standard, he judges every action, every experience by that standard, and therefore lives in a continual state of choice. Choice is born only of resistance. If there is discernment, there is no effort. So to me this whole conception of making an effort toward truth, toward reality, this idea of making a sustained endeavour, is utterly false. As long as you are incomplete you will experience suffering, and hence you will be engaged in choice, in effort, in the ceaseless struggle for what you call"spiritual attainment." So I say, when mind is caught up in authority, it cannot have true understanding, true thought. And since the minds of most of you are caught up in authority - which is but an escape from understanding, from discernment - you cannot face the experience of life completely. Therefore you live a dual life, a life of pretence, of hypocrisy, a life in which there is no moment of completeness. STRESA, ITALY 1ST PUBLIC TALK 2ND JULY, 1933 Friends, In my talks I am not going to weave an intellectual theory. I am going to speak of my own experience which is not born of intellectual ideas, but which is real. Please do not think of me as a philosopher expounding a new set of ideas with which your intellect can juggle. That is not what I want to offer you. Rather, I should like to explain that truth, the life of fullness and richness, cannot be realized through any person, through imitation, or through any form of authority. Most of us feel occasionally that there is a true life, an eternal something, but the moments in which we feel that are so rare that this eternal something recedes more and more into the background and seems to us less and less a reality. Now to me there is reality; there is an eternal living reality - call it God, immortality, eternity, or what you will. There is something living, creative, which cannot be described, because reality eludes all description. No description of truth can be lasting, for it can only be an illusion of words. You cannot know of love through the description of another; to know love, you yourself must have experienced it. You cannot know the taste of salt until you have tasted salt for yourself. Yet we spend our time looking for a description of truth instead of trying to find out the manner of its realization. I say that I cannot describe, I cannot put into words, that living reality which is beyond all idea of progress, all idea of growth. Beware of the man who tries to describe that living reality, for it cannot be described; it must be experienced, lived. This realization of truth, of the eternal, is not in the movement of time, which is but a habit of the mind. When you say that you will realize it in course of time, that is, in some future, then you are only postponing that comprehension which must ever be in the present. But if the mind understands the completeness of life, and is free from the division of time into the past, present, and future, then there comes the realization of that living eternal reality. But since all minds are caught up in the division of time, since they think of time as past, present, and future, there arises conflict. Again, because we have divided action into the past, present, and future, because to us action is not complete in itself, but is rather something propelled by motives, by fear, by guides, by reward or punishment, our minds are incapable of understanding the continuous whole. Only when mind is free of the division of time can true action result. When action is born of completeness, not in the division of time, then that action is harmonious and is freed from the trammels of society, classes, races, religions and acquisitiveness. To put it differently, action must become truly individual. Now I am not using that word "individual" in the sense of placing the individual against the many. By individual action I mean action that is born of complete comprehension, complete understanding by the individual, understanding not imposed by others. Where that understanding exists, there is true individuality, true aloneness -not the aloneness of escape into solitude, but the aloneness that is born of the full comprehension of the experiences of life. For the completeness of action, mind must be free of this idea of time as yesterday, today, and tomorrow. If mind is not liberated from that division, then conflict arises and leads to suffering and to the search for escapes from that suffering. I say that there is a living reality, an immortality, an eternity that cannot be described; it can be understood only in the fullness of your own individual action, not as a part of a structure, not as a part of a social, political, or religious machine. Therefore you must experience true individuality before you can understand what is true. As long as you do not act from that eternal source, there must be conflict; there must be division and continual strife. Now each of us knows conflict, struggle, sorrow, lack of harmony. These are the elements that largely make up our lives, and from them we try, consciously or unconsciously, to escape. But few know for themselves the cause of conflict. Intellectually they may know the cause, but that knowledge is merely superficial. To know the cause is to be aware of it with both mind and heart. Since few are aware of the deep cause of their suffering, they feel the desire to escape from that suffering, and this desire for escape has created and vitalized our moral, social, and religious systems. Here I have not time to go into details, but if you will think the matter over, you will see that our religious systems throughout the world are based on this idea of postponement and evasion, this searching for mediators and comforters. Because we are not responsible for our own acts, because we are seeking escape from our suffering, we create systems and authorities which will give us comfort and shelter. What, then, is the cause of conflict? Why does one suffer? Why does one have to struggle ceaselessly? To me, conflict is the impeded flow of spontaneous action, of harmonious thought and feeling. When thought and emotion are inharmonious, there is conflict in action; that is, when mind and heart are in a state of discord, they create an impediment to the expression of harmonious action, and hence conflict. Such impediment to harmonious action is caused by the desire to escape, by the continual avoidance of facing life wholly, by meeting life always with the weight of tradition - be it religious, political, or social. This incapacity to face experience in its completeness creates conflict, and the desire to escape from it. If you consider your thoughts and the acts springing from them, you will see that where there is the desire to escape there must be the search for security; because you find conflict in life with all its actions, its affections, its thoughts, you want to escape from that conflict to a satisfactory security, to a permanency. So your whole action is based on this desire for security. But actually, there is no security in life - neither physical nor intellectual, neither emotional nor spiritual. If you feel you are secure, you can never find that living reality; yet most of you are seeking security. Some of you are seeking physical security through wealth, comfort, and the power over others that wealth gives you; you are interested in social differences and social privileges that assure you of a position from which you derive satisfaction. Physical security is a crude form of security, but since it has been impossible for the majority of mankind to attain that security, man has turned to the subtle form of security which he calls spiritual or religious. Because of the desire to escape from conflict, you seek and establish security - physical or spiritual. The longing for physical security shows itself in the desire to have a substantial bank account, a good position, the desire to be considered somebody in the town, the striving for degrees and titles and all such meaningless stupidities. Then some of you become dissatisfied with physical security and turn to security of a more subtle form. It is security still, but merely a little less obvious, and you call it spiritual. But I see no real difference between the two. When you are satiated with physical security or when you cannot attain it, you turn to what you call spiritual security. And when you turn to that, you establish and vitalize those things which you call religion and organized spiritual beliefs. Because you seek security you establish a form of religion, a system of philosophical thought in which you are caught, to which you become a slave. Therefore, from my point of view, religions with all their intermediaries, their ceremonies, their priests, destroy creative understanding and pervert judgment. One form of religious security is the belief in reincarnation, the belief in future lives, with all that that belief implies. I say that when a man is caught up in any belief he cannot know the fullness of life. A man who lives fully is acting from that source in which there is no reaction, but only action; but the man who is seeking security, escape, must hold to a belief because from that he derives continual support, encouragement for his lack of comprehension. Then there is the security created by man in the idea of God. Many people ask me whether I believe in God, whether there is a God. You cannot discuss it. Most of our conceptions of God, of reality, of truth, are merely speculative imitations. Therefore they are utterly false, and all our religions are based on such falsities. A man who has lived all his life in a prison can only speculate about freedom; a man who has never experienced the ecstasy of freedom cannot know freedom. So it is of little avail to discuss God, truth; but if you have the intelligence, the intensity to destroy the barriers around you, then you will know for yourself the fulfillment of life. You will then no longer be a slave in a social or religious system. Again, there is the security through service. That is, you like to lose yourself in the bog of activity, in work. Through this activity, this security, you seek to escape from facing your own incessant struggles. So security is but escape. And since most people are trying to escape, they have made themselves into machines of habit in order to avoid conflict. They create religious beliefs, ideas; they worship the image of an imitation which they call God; they try to forget their inability to face the struggle by losing themselves in work. All these are ways of escape. Now in order to safeguard security, you create authority. Isn't that so? To receive comfort, you must have someone or some system to give you comfort. To have security, there must be a person, an idea, a belief, a tradition, that gives you the assurance of security. So in our attempt to find security, we set up an authority and become slaves to that authority. In our search for security we set up religious ideals that we, in our fear, have created; we seek security through priests or spiritual guides whom we call teachers or masters. Or, again, we seek our authority in the power of tradition - social, economic, or political. We ourselves, individually, have established these authorities. They did not come into being spontaneously. Through centuries we have been establishing them, and our minds have become crippled, perverted through their influence. Or, suppose that we have discarded external authorities; then we have developed an inner authority which we call intuitional, spiritual authority - but which, to me, differs little from the external. That is, when mind is caught up in authority - whether external or inner - it cannot be free, and therefore it cannot know true discernment. Hence, where there is authority born of the search for security, in that authority are the roots of egotism. Now what have we done? Out of our weakness, our desire for power, our search for security, we have established spiritual authorities. And in this security, which we call immortality, we want to dwell eternally. If you look at that desire calmly, discerningly, you will see that it is nothing but a refined form of egotism. Where there is a division of thought, where there is the idea of "I", the idea of "mine" and "yours", there cannot be completeness in action, and therefore there cannot be the understanding of living reality. But - and I hope you understand this - that living reality, that totality, expresses itself in the action of individuality. I have explained what I mean by individuality: the state in which action takes place through understanding, liberated from all standards -social, economic, or spiritual. That is what I call true individuality, because it is action born of the fullness of understanding, whereas egotism has its roots in security, in tradition, in belief. Therefore action induced by egotism is ever incomplete, is ever bound up with ceaseless struggle, with suffering and pain. These are a few of the impediments and hindrances that prevent man from realizing that supreme reality. That living reality you can understand only when you have freed yourself from these hindrances. The freedom of completeness is not in the escape from bondage, but in the understanding of action, which is the harmony of mind and heart. Let me explain this more clearly. Most thinking people are intellectually aware of many hindrances. For instance, if you consider such securities as wealth, which you accumulate as a protection, or spiritual ideas in which you try to take shelter, you will see their utter futility. Now if you examine these securities, you may intellectually see their falseness; but to me, that intellectual consciousness of impediment is not full awareness at all. It is merely an intellectual conception, not a full consciousness. Full consciousness exists only when you are aware, both emotionally and mentally, of these hindrances. If you are thinking of these hindrances now, you are probably considering them only intellectually, and you say, "Tell me a way by which I can get rid of these impediments." That is, you are merely trying to conquer impediments, and thereby you are creating another set of resistances. I hope I have made this clear. I can tell you that security is futile, that it has no significance, and you may intellectually admit this; but as you have been accustomed to struggle for security, when you go from here you will merely continue that struggle, but now, against security; thereby you merely seek a new way, a new method, a new technique, which is but a renewed desire for security in another form. To me there is no such thing as a technique for living, a technique for the realization of truth. If there were such a technique for you to learn, you would merely be enslaved by another system. The realization of truth comes only when there is completeness of action without effort. And the cessation of effort comes through the awareness of hindrances - not when you try to conquer them. That is, when you are fully conscious, fully aware in your heart and mind, when you are aware with your whole being, then through that awareness you will be free from hindrances. Experiment and you will see. Everything that you have conquered has enslaved you. Only when you have understood an impediment with your whole being, only when you have really understood the illusion of security, you will no longer struggle against it. But if you are only intellectually conscious of hindrances, then you will continue to struggle against them. Your conception of life is based on this principle. Your striving for spiritual achievement, spiritual growth, is the outcome of your desire for further securities, further aggrandizement, further glory, and hence this continual and ceaseless struggle. So I say, do not seek a way, a method. There is no method, no way to truth. Do not seek a way, but become aware of the impediment. Awareness is not merely intellectual; it is both mental and emotional; it is completeness of action. Then, in that flame of awareness, all these impediments fall away because you penetrate them. Then you can perceive directly, without choice, that which is true. Your action will then be born out of completeness, not out of the incompleteness of security; and in that completeness, in that harmony of mind and heart, is the realization of the eternal. ALPINO, ITALY 2ND PUBLIC TALK 4TH JULY, 1933 Friends, Today I am going to talk about what is called evolution. It is a subject difficult to discuss, and you may misunderstand what I am going to say. If you don't quite understand me, please ask me questions afterwards. To most of us the idea of evolution implies a series of achievements, that is, achievements born of continual choice between what we call the unessential and the essential. It implies leaving the unessential and moving towards the essential. This series of continual achievements resulting from choice we call evolution. Our whole structure of thought is based on this idea of advancement and spiritual attainment, on the idea of growing more and more into the essential, as the result of continual choice. So then, we think of action as merely a series of achievements, don't we? Now when we consider growth or evolution as a series of achievements, naturally our actions are never complete; they are always growing from the lower to the higher, always climbing, advancing. Therefore, if we live under that conception, our action enslaves us; our action is a constant, ceaseless, infinite effort, and that effort is always turned toward a security. Naturally, when there is this search for security, there is fear, and this fear creates the continual consciousness of what we call the "I". Isn't that so? The minds of most of us are caught up in this idea of achievement, attainment, climbing higher and higher, that is, in the idea of choosing between the essential and the unessential. And since this choice, this advancement which we call action, is but a ceaseless struggle, a continual effort, our lives are also a ceaseless effort and not a free, spontaneous flow of action. I want to differentiate between action and achievement or attainment. Achievement is a finality, whereas action, to me, is infinite. You will understand that distinction as I continue. But first, let us understand that this is what we mean by evolution: A continual movement through choice, towards what we call the essential, ever pursuing greater and greater achievement. The highest bliss - and to me this is not a mere theory - is to live without effort. Now I am going to explain what I mean by effort. For most of you, effort is but choice. You live by choice; you have to choose. But why do you choose? Why is there a necessity that urges you, impels you, forces you to choose? I say that this necessity for choice exists as long as one is conscious of emptiness or loneliness within oneself; that incompleteness forces you to choose, to make an effort. Now the question is not how to fill that emptiness, but rather, what is the cause of that emptiness. To me, emptiness is action born of choice, in search of gain. Emptiness results when action is born of choice. And when there is emptiness, the question arises, "How can I fill that void? How can I get rid of that loneliness, that feeling of incompleteness?" To me, it is not a question of filling the void, for you can never fill it. Yet that is what most people are trying to do. Through sensation, excitement, or pleasure, through tenderness or forgetfulness, they are trying to fill that void, to lessen that feeling of emptiness. But they will never fill that emptiness, because they are trying to fill it with action born of choice. Emptiness exists as long as action is based on choice, on like and dislike, attraction and repulsion. You choose because you don't like this and you like that; you are not satisfied with this but you want to satisfy yourself with that. Or you are afraid of something and run away from it. For most people action is based on attraction and repulsion, and therefore on fear. Now what happens when you discard this and choose that? You are basing your action merely on attraction or repulsion, and thereby you are creating an opposite. Hence there is this continual choice which implies effort. As long as you make a choice, as long as choice exists, there must be duality. You may think that you have chosen the essential; but because your choice is born out of attraction and repulsion, want and fear, it merely creates another unessential. That is what your life is. One day you want this - you choose it because you like it and want it because it gives you joy and satisfaction. The next day you are surfeited with it; it means nothing more to you, and you discard it in order to choose something else. So your choice is based on continuous sensation; you choose through the consciousness of duality, and this choice merely perpetuates the opposites. As long as you choose between opposites, there is no discernment, and hence there must be effort, ceaseless effort, continually opposites and duality. Your choice, therefore, is ceaseless, and your effort is continuous. Your action is always finite, always in terms of achievement, and hence that emptiness which you feel will always exist. But if the mind is free of choice, if it has the capacity to discern, then action is infinite. I shall explain this again. As I have said, if you say, "I want this thing", in that choosing you have created an opposite. Again, after that choice you create another opposite, and so you go on from one opposite to another through a process of continual effort. That process is your life, and in that there is ceaseless struggle and pain, conflict and suffering. If you realize that, if you really feel with your whole being - that is, emotionally as well as mentally - the futility of choice, then you no longer choose; then there is discernment; then there is intuitive response which is free from choice, and that is awareness. If you are aware that your choice born of opposites but creates another opposite, then you perceive what is true. But most of you have not the intensity of desire nor the awareness, because you want the opposite, because you want sensation. Therefore you never attain discernment; you never attain that rich, full awareness that liberates the mind from opposites. In that freedom from opposites, action is no longer an achievement, but a fulfillment; it is born of discernment which is infinite. Then action springs from your own fullness, and in such action there is no choice and hence no effort. To know such fullness, such reality, you must be in a state of intense awareness, which you can attain only when you are faced by a crisis. Most of you are faced by some kind of crisis, with regard to money, or people, or love, or death; and when you are caught up in such a crisis you have to choose, to decide. How do you decide? Your decision springs from fear, want, sensation. So you are merely postponing; you are choosing what is convenient, what is pleasant, and therefore you are merely creating another shadow through which you have to pass. Only when you feel the absurdity of your present existence, feel it not just intellectually, but with your whole heart and mind - when you really feel the absurdity of this continual choice - then out of that awareness is born discernment. Then you do not choose: you act. It is easy to give examples, but I shall give none, for they are often confusing. So to me, awareness does not result from the struggle to be aware; it comes of its own accord when you are conscious with your whole being, when you realize the futility of choice. At present you choose between two things, two courses of action; you make a choice between this and that; one you understand, the other you do not. With the result of such choice, you hope to fill your life. You act according to your wants, your desires. Naturally, when that desire is fulfilled, action has come to an end. Then, since you are still lonely, you look for another action, another fulfillment. Each one of you is faced with a duality in action, a choice between doing this or that; but when you are aware of the futility of choice, when you are aware with your whole being, without effort, then you will truly discern. You can test this only when you are really in a crisis; you cannot test it intellectually, when sitting at your ease and imagining a mental conflict. You can learn its truth only when you are face to face with an insistent demand for choice, when you have to make a decision, when your whole being demands action. If in that moment you realize with your whole being, if in that moment you are aware of the futility of choice, then out of that comes the flower of intuition, the flower of discernment. Action born of that is infinite; then action is life itself. Then there is no division between action and actor; all is continuous. There is no temporary fulfillment which is soon over. Question: Please explain what you mean by saying that self-discipline is useless. What do you mean by self-discipline? Krishnamurti: If you have understood what I have been saying, you will see the futility of self-discipline. But I shall explain this again, and try to make it clear. Why do you think that you must discipline yourself? To what do you want to discipline yourself? When you say, "I must discipline myself", you hold before you a standard to which you think you must conform. Self-discipline exists as long as you want to fill the emptiness within you; it exists as long as you hold a certain description of what God is, what truth is, as long as you cherish certain sets of moral standards which you force yourself to accept as guides. That is, your action is regulated, con- trolled, by the desire to conform. But if action is born of discernment, then there is no discipline. Please understand what I mean by discernment. Don't say, "I have learnt to play the piano. Doesn't that involve discipline?" Or, "I have studied mathematics. Is not that discipline?" I am not talking about the study of technique, which cannot be called discipline. I am talking about conduct in life. Have I made that clear? I am afraid most of you have not understood this, for to be free of the idea of self-discipline is most difficult, since from childhood we have been slaves of discipline, of control. To get rid of the idea of discipline does not mean that you must go to the opposite, that you must be chaotic. What I say is that when there is discernment, there need be no self-discipline; then there is no self-discipline. Most of you are caught up in the habit of discipline. First of all, you hold a mental picture of what is right, of what is true, of what good character should be. To this mental picture you try to fit your actions. You act merely according to a mental picture that you hold. As long as you have a preconceived idea of what is true - and most of you have this idea - you must act according to that. Most of you are unconscious that you are acting according to a pattern, but when you become aware that you are acting thus, then you no longer copy or imitate: then your own action reveals what is true. You know, our physical training, our religious and moral training, tend to mould us after a pattern. From childhood, most of us have been trained to fit into a pattern - social, religious, economic - and most of us are unconscious of this. Discipline has become a habit, and you are unconscious of that habit. Only when you become aware that you are disciplining yourself to a pattern, will your action be born of discernment. So first of all, you must realize why you discipline yourself, not why you should or should not discipline. What has happened to man through all the centuries of self-discipline? He has become more of a machine and less of a human being; he has merely attained greater skill in imitation, in being a machine. Self-discipline, that is, conforming to a mental picture established either by you yourself or by someone else, does not bring about harmony; it only creates chaos. What happens when you attempt to discipline yourself? Your action is ever creating emptiness within you because you are trying to fit your actions to a pattern. But if you become aware that you are acting according to a pattern - a pattern of your own or some one else's making - then you will perceive the falseness of imitation and your action then will be born of discernment, that is, from the harmony of your mind and heart. Now, mentally you want to act in a certain way, but emotionally you do not desire the same end, and hence conflict results. In order to conquer that conflict you seek security in authority, and that authority becomes your pattern. Hence, you do not act what you really feel and think; your action is motivated by fear, by desire for security, and from such action is born self-discipline. Do you understand? You know, understanding with the whole intensity of your being is a very different thing from understanding merely intellectually. When people say, "I understand", they usually understand only intellectually. But intellectual analysis will not free you from this habit of self-discipline. When you are acting, do not say, "I must see if this act is born of self-discipline, if it is according to a pattern." Such an attempt only prevents true action. But if, in your acting, you are aware of the imitation, then your action will be spontaneous. As I have said, if you examine every act to determine whether it is born of self-discipline, of imitation, your action becomes more and more limited; then there is hindrance, resistance. You do not truly act at all. But if you become aware, with your whole being, of the futility of imitation, the futility of conformity, then your action will not be imitative, hampered, bound. The more you analyze your action, the less you act. Isn't that so? To me, analysis of action does not free the mind of imitation, which is conformity, self-discipline; what frees the mind of imitation is being aware with your whole being in your action. To me, self-analysis frustrates action, it destroys complete living. Perhaps you do not agree with this, but please listen to what I have to say before you decide whether or not you agree. I say that this continuous process of self-analysis, which is self-discipline, constantly puts a limitation on the free flow of life, which is action. For self-discipline is based on the idea of achievement, not on the idea of the completeness of action. Do you see the distinction? In the one there is a series of achievements and therefore always a finality; whereas in the other, action is born of discernment, and such action is harmonious and therefore infinite. Have I made this clear? Watch yourself the next time you say, "I must not." Self-discipline, the "I must", the "I must not", is based on the idea of achievement. When you realize the futility of achievement - when you realize this with your whole being, emotionally as well as intellectually - then there is no longer an "I must" and an "I must not." Now you are caught up in this attempt to conform to a picture in your mind, you have the habit of thinking "I must" or "I must not." Therefore, the next time you say this, become aware of yourself, and in that awareness you will discern what is true, and free yourself from the hindrance of "I must" and "I must not." Question: You say that nobody can help any one else. Why then are you going around the world addressing people? Krishnamurti: Need that be answered? It implies a great deal if you understand it. You know, most of us want to acquire wisdom or truth through another, through some outside agency. No one else can make you into an artist; only you yourself can do that. That is what I want to say: I can give you paint, brushes, and canvas, but you yourself have to become the artist, the painter. I cannot make you into one. Now in your attempts to become spiritual, most of you seek teachers, saviours, but I say that no one in the world can free you from the conflict of sorrow. Some one can give you the materials, the tools, but no one can give you that flame of creative living. You know, we think in terms of technique, but technique does not come first. You must first have the flame of desire, and then technique follows. "But, " you say, "let me learn. If I am taught the technique of painting, then I shall be able to paint." There are many books that describe the technique of painting, but merely learning technique will never make you a creative artist. Only when you stand entirely alone, without technique, without masters, only then can you find truth. Let us understand this first of all. Now you are basing your ideas on conformity. You think that there is a standard, a way, by which you can find truth; but if you examine, you will discover that there is no path that leads to truth. In order to be led to truth, you must know what truth is, and your leader must know what it is. Isn't that so? I say that a man who teaches truth may have it, but if he offers to lead you to truth and you are led, then both are in illusion. How can you know truth if you are still held by illusion? If truth is there, it expresses itself. A great poet has the desire, the flame for creative writing, and he writes. If you have the desire, you learn the technique. I feel that no one can lead another to truth, because truth is infinite; it is a pathless land, and no one can tell you how to find it. No one can teach you to be an artist; another can only give you the brushes and canvas and show you the colours to use. Nobody taught me, I assure you, nor have I learnt what I am saying from books. But I have watched, I have struggled, and I have tried to find out. It is only when you are absolutely naked, free from all techniques, free from all teachers, that you find out. ALPINO, ITALY 3RD PUBLIC TALK 6TH JULY, 1933 Friends, In these talks I have been trying to show that where action involves effort, self-control - and I have explained what I mean by these terms - there must be diminution and limitation of life, but where action is effortless, spontaneous, there is completeness of life. What I say, however, concerns the fullness of life itself, not the chaos of misunderstood liberation. I shall again explain what I mean by effortless action. When you are conscious of incompleteness, you have the desire to find a goal or an end which will be your authority, and thereby you hope to fill that emptiness, that incompleteness. Most of us are continually seeking a goal, an end, an image, an ideal for our comfort. We are ceaselessly working towards that goal because we are conscious of the struggle which arises from incompleteness. But if we understood incompleteness itself, then we would no longer seek a goal, which is but substitution. To understand incompleteness and its cause you must find out why you seek a goal. Why do you work towards a goal? Why do you want to discipline yourself according to a pattern? Because the incompleteness, of which you are more or less conscious, gives rise to continued effort, continued struggle, from which mind tries to escape by establishing the authority of a comforting ideal which it hopes will serve as a guide. Thereby action in itself has no significance; it becomes merely a steppingstone towards an end, a goal. In your search for truth you use action merely as a means towards an end, and the significance of action is lost. You make great effort to attain a goal, and the importance of your action lies in the end which it achieves - not in the action itself. Most people are caught up in the search for reward, in the attempt to escape punishment. They are working for results; they are urged forward by a motive, and therefore their action cannot be complete. Most of you are caught in this prison of incompleteness, and therefore you have to become conscious of that prison. If you don't understand what I mean, please interrupt me, and I shall explain again. I say that you must become conscious that you are a prisoner; you must become aware that you are continually trying to escape from incompleteness and that your search for truth is but an escape. What you call the search for truth, for God, through self-discipline and achievement, is but an escape from incompleteness. The cause of incompleteness is in the very search for attainment, but you are continually escaping from this cause. Action born of self-discipline, action born of fear or of the desire for achievement, is the cause of incompleteness. Now when you become aware that such action is itself the cause of incompleteness, you are freed of that incompleteness. The moment you become aware of poison, the poison ceases to be a problem to you. It is a problem only as long as you are unaware of its action in your life. But most people do not know the cause of their incompleteness, and from this ignorance arises ceaseless effort. When they become aware of the cause - which is the search for achievement - then in that awareness there is completeness, completeness that demands no effort. In your action then there is no effort, no self-analysis, no discipline. From incompleteness arises the search for comfort, for authority, and the attempt to reach this goal deprives action of its intrinsic significance. But when you become fully aware with your mind and your heart of the cause of incompleteness, then incompleteness ceases. Out of this awareness comes action that is infinite because it has significance in itself. To put it differently, as long as mind and heart are caught up in want, in desire, there must be emptiness. You want things, ideas, persons, only when you are conscious of your own emptiness, and that wanting creates a choice. When there is craving there must be choice, and choice precipitates you into the conflict of experiences. You have the capacity to choose, and thereby you limit yourself by your choice. Only when mind is free from choice is there liberation. All want, all craving, is blinding, and your choice is born of fear, of the desire for consolation, comfort, reward, or as the result of cunning calculation. Because of the emptiness within you, there is want. Since your choice is always based on the idea of gain, there can be no true discernment, no true perception; there is only want. When you choose, as you do choose, your choice merely creates another set of circumstances which result in further conflict and choice. Your choice, which is born of limitation, sets up a further series of limitations, and these limitations create the consciousness which is the "I", the ego. The multiplication of choice you call experiences. You look to these experiences to deliver you from bondage, but they can never deliver you from bondage because you think of experiences as a continual movement of acquisition. Let me illustrate this by an example, which will perhaps convey my thought. Suppose that you lose by death some one whom you love very much. That death is a fact. Now at once you experience a sense of loss, a craving to be again near that person. You want your friend back, and since you cannot have him again, your mind creates or accepts an idea to satisfy that emotional craving. The person whom you love has been taken from you. Then, because you suffer, because you are aware of an intense emptiness, a loneliness, you want to have your friend again. That is, you want to end your suffering, or put it aside, or forget it; you want to deaden the consciousness of that emptiness, which is hidden when you are with the friend whom you love. Your want arises from the desire for comfort; but since you cannot have the comfort of his presence, you think of some idea that may satisfy you -reincarnation, life after death, the unity of all life. In such ideas - I do not say that they are right or wrong, we will discuss them another time - in such ideas, I say, you take comfort. Because you cannot have the person whom you love, you take mental consolation in such ideas. That is, without true discernment, you accept any idea, any principle, that seems for the moment to satisfy you, to put aside that consciousness of emptiness which causes suffering. So your action is based on the idea of consolation, on the idea of multiplication of experiences; your action is determined by choice which has its roots in want. But the moment you become aware with your mind and heart, with your whole being, of the futility of want, then emptiness ceases. Now you are only partly conscious of this emptiness, so you try to get satisfaction by reading novels, by losing yourself in the diversions that man has created in the name of civilization; and this search for sensation you call experience. You must realize with your heart as well as with your mind that the cause of emptiness is craving, which results in choice, and prevents true discernment. When you become aware of this, there is then cessation of want. As I have said, when one feels an emptiness, a want, one accepts without true discernment. And most of the actions that make up our lives are based on this feeling of want. We may think that our choices are based on reason, on discernment; we may think that we weigh possibilities and calculate chances before making a choice. Yet because there is in us a longing, a want, a craving, we cannot know true perception or discernment. When you realize this, when you become aware of it with your whole being, emotionally as well as with the mind, when you realize the futility of want, then want ceases; then you are freed from that feeling of emptiness. In that flame of awareness there is no discipline, no effort. But we do not perceive this fully; we do not become aware, because we experience a pleasure in want, because we are continually hoping that the pleasure in want shall dominate the pain. We strive to attain the pleasure even though we know it is not free from pain. If you become fully aware of the whole significance of this, you have wrought a miracle for yourself; then you will experience freedom from want, and therefore liberation from choice; then you will no longer be that limited consciousness, the "I". Where there is dependency or the looking to another for support, for encouragement, where there is reliance on another, there is loneliness. In your looking to another for fulfillment, for happiness or well-being, in your looking to another for consolation, in your dependence on any person or idea as an authority in matters of religion - in all this there is utter loneliness. Because you are thus dependent and hence lonely, you seek comfort, or a way of escape; you seek authority and support from another to give you consolation. But when you become aware of the falseness of all this, when you become aware with your heart as well as with your mind, then there is cessation of loneliness, for then you no longer rely on another for your happiness. So where there is choice there can be no discernment, for discernment is choiceless. Where there is choice and the capacity to choose, there is only limitation. Only when choice ceases is there liberation, fullness, richness of action, which is life itself. Creation is choiceless, as life is choiceless, as understanding is choiceless. Likewise is truth; it is a continuous action, an everbecoming, in which there is no choice. It is pure discernment. Question: How can we get rid of incompleteness without forming some ideal of completeness? After the realization of completeness there may be no need for an ideal, but before the realization of completeness some ideal seems inevitable, although it will have to be provisional and will change according to the growth of understanding. Krishnamurti: Your very saying that you need an ideal in order to overcome incompleteness shows that you are merely trying to superimpose that ideal on incompleteness. That is what most of you are trying to do. It is only when you find out the cause of incompleteness and are aware of that cause that you become complete. But you do not find out that cause. You do not understand what I am saying, or rather, you understand only with your minds, only intellectually. Anyone can do that, but really to understand demands action. Now you feel incompleteness, and therefore you seek an ideal, the ideal of completeness. That is, you are seeking an opposite to incompleteness, and in wanting that opposite you merely create another opposite. This may sound puzzling, but it is not. You are continually seeking what seems to you the essential. One day you think this essential; you choose it, strive for it, and possess it, but meanwhile it has already become the unessential. Now if mind is free from all sense of duality, free from the idea of essential and nonessential, then you are not confronted by the problem of choice; then you act from the fullness of discernment, and you no longer seek the image of completeness. Why do you cling to the ideal of freedom when you are in a prison? You create or invent that ideal of freedom because you cannot escape from your prison. So also with your ideals, your gods, your religions: they are the creation of the desire for escape into comfort. You yourself have made the world into a prison, a prison of suffering and conflict; and because the world is such a prison, you create an ideal god, an ideal freedom, an ideal truth. And these ideals, these opposites, are but attempts at emotional and mental escape. Your ideals are means of escape from the prison in which you are confined. But if you become conscious of that prison, if you become aware of the fact that you are trying to escape, then that awareness destroys the prison; then, instead of pursuing freedom, you will know freedom. Freedom does not come to him who seeks freedom. Truth is not found by him who searches for truth. Only when you realize with your whole mind and heart the condition of the prison in which you live, when you realize the significance of that prison, only then are you free, naturally and without effort. This realization can come only when you are in a great crisis, but most of you try to avoid crises. Or, when you are confronted by a crisis, you at once seek comfort in the idea of religion, the idea of God, the idea of evolution; you turn to priests, to spiritual guides, for consolation; you seek diversion in amusements. All of these are but escapes from conflict. But if you really confront the crisis before you, if you realize the futility, the falseness of escape as a mere means of postponement of action, then in that awareness is born the flower of discernment. So you must become aware in action, which will reveal the hidden pursuits of craving. But this awareness does not result from analysis. Analysis merely limits action. Have I answered that question? Question: You have enumerated the successive steps of the process of creating authorities. Will you enumerate the steps of the inverse process, the process of liberating oneself from all authority. Krishnamurti: I am afraid the question is wrongly stated. You do not ask what creates authority, but how to free yourself from authority. Please, let me say this again: Once you are aware of the cause of authority, you are free from that authority. The cause of the creation of authority is the important thing - not the steps leading to authority or the steps leading to the overthrow of authority. Why do you create authority? What is the cause of your creating authority? It is, as I have said, the search for security, and I shall have to say this so often that it will become almost a formula for you. Now you are searching for a security in which you think you will need to make no effort, where you will not need to struggle with your neighbour. But you will not attain this state of security by searching for it. There is a state which is fulfillment, which is the assurance of bliss, a state in which you act from life; but that state you attain only when you no longer seek security. Only when you realize with your whole being that there is no such thing as security in life, only when you are free from this constant search, can there be fulfillment. So you create authority in the shape of ideals, in the shape of religious, social, economic systems, all based on the search for individual security. And you yourself are therefore responsible for the creation of authority, to which you have become a slave. Authority does not exist by itself. It has no existence apart from him who creates it. You have created it, and until you are aware with your whole being of the cause of its creation, you will be a slave to it. And you can become aware of that cause only when you are acting, not through self-analysis or intellectual discussion. Question: I do not want a set of rules for being "aware", but I should very much like to understand awareness. Must not great effort be made to be aware of each thought as it arises, before one arrives at the state of effortlessness? Krishnamurti: Why do you want to be aware? What is the need of being aware? If you are perfectly satisfied as you are, continue in that way. When you say, "I must be aware", you are merely making awareness another end to be attained, and by that means you will never become aware. You have disposed of one set of rules, and now you are creating another set, instead of trying to be aware when you are in a great crisis, when you are suffering. As long as you seek comfort and security, as long as you are at your ease, you merely consider the matter intellectually, and say, "I must be aware." But when in the midst of suffering you try to find out the significance of suffering, when you do not try to escape from it, when in a crisis you arrive at a decision - not born of choice, but of action itself - then you really become aware. But when you are trying to escape, your attempt to be aware is futile. You don't really want to be aware, you don't want to discover the cause of suffering; your whole concern is with escape. You come here and listen to my telling you that to escape from conflict is futile. Yet you desire to escape. So you really mean, "How can we do both?" Surreptitiously, cunningly, in the back of your minds you want the religions, the gods, the means of escape that you have cleverly invented and built up through the centuries. Yet you listen to me when I say that you will never find truth through the guidance of another, through escape, through the search for security, which results only in eternal loneliness. Then you ask, "How are we to attain both? How are we to compromise between escape and awareness?" You have confused the two and you seek a compromise; therefore you ask, "How am I to become aware?" But if, instead of this, you frankly say to yourself, "I want to escape, I want comfort", then you will find exploiters to give you want you want. You yourself have created exploiters because of your desire to escape. Find out what you want, become aware of what you crave; then the question of awareness will not arise. Because you are lonely you want consolation. But if you seek consolation, be honest, be frank, be aware of what you want and conscious that you are seeking it. Then we can understand the matter. I can tell you that from dependence on another, from the search for comfort, results eternal loneliness. I can make this plain to you, and you, in turn, may agree or disagree. I can show you that in want there is eternal emptiness and nothingness. But you derive satisfaction from sensation, from pleasure, from passing joys that fill your wants, your desires. Then, when I show you the falsity of want, you do not know how to act. So, as a compromise, you begin to discipline yourself, and this attempt to discipline destroys your creative living. When you really perceive the absurdity, the emptiness of want, then that want falls away from you without your effort. But as long as you are enslaved to the idea of choice, you have to make an effort, and from this arises as an opposite the desire for awareness, the problem of living without effort. Question: You speak to man, but man has first been a child. How can we educate a child without discipline? Krishnamurti: Do you agree that discipline is futile? Do you feel the futility of discipline? Comment from the audience: But you start from the point at which man is already man. I want to begin with the child as a child. Krishnamurti: We are all children; all of us have to begin, not with others, but with ourselves. When we do this, then we shall find out the right way with children. You cannot begin with children because you are the parents of children, you must begin with yourselves. Say that you have a child. You believe in authority and train him according to that belief; but if you understood the futility of authority, you would liberate him from it. So first of all, you yourselves have to find out the significance of authority in your life. What I say is very simple. I say that authority is created when the mind seeks comfort in security. Therefore, begin with yourselves. Begin with your own garden, not with someone else's. You want to create a new system of thought, a new system of ideas, a new system of behaviour; but you cannot create something new by reforming something old. You must break away from the old in order to begin the new; but you can break away from the old only when you understand the cause of the old. STRESA, ITALY 2ND PUBLIC TALK 8TH JULY, 1933 Question: It has been said that you are really enchaining the individual, not liberating him. Is this true? Krishnamurti: After I have answered this question, you yourself can find out whether I am liberating the individual or enchaining him. Let us take the individual as he is. What do we mean by the individual? A person who is controlled and dominated by his fears, his disappointments, his cravings, which create a certain set of circumstances that enslave him and force him to fit into a social structure. That is what we mean by an individual. Through our fears, our superstitions, our vanities and our cravings, we have created a certain set of circumstances to which we have become slaves. We have almost lost our individuality, our uniqueness. When you examine your action in daily life, you will see that it is but a reaction to a set of standards, a series of ideas. Please follow what I am saying, and do not say that I urge man to free himself so that he can do what he likes - so that he can bring about ruin and disaster. First of all I want to make it clear that we are but reactions to a set of standards and ideas which we have created through our suffering and fear, through our ignorance, our desire for possession. This reaction we call individual action, but to me, it is not action at all. It is a constant reaction in which there is no positive action. I shall put it differently. At present, man is but the emptiness of reaction, nothing more. He does not act from the fullness of his nature, from his completeness, from his wisdom; he acts merely from a reaction. I maintain that chaos, utter destruction, is taking place in the world because we are not acting from our fullness, but from our fear, from the lack of understanding. Once we become aware of the fact that what we call individuality is but a series of reactions in which there is no fullness of action; once we understand that, that individuality is but a series of reactions in which there is a continual emptiness, a void, then we will act harmoniously. How are you going to find out the value of a certain standard that you hold? You will not find out by acting in opposition to that standard, but by weighing and balancing what you really think and feel against what that standard demands. You will find that the standard demands certain actions, while your own instinctive action tends in another direction. Then what are you going to do? If you do what your instinct demands, your action will lead to chaos, because our instincts have been perverted through centuries of what we call education - education that is entirely false. Your own instinct demands one type of action, but society, which we, individually, have created through centuries, society to which we have become slaves, demands another kind of action. And when you act in accordance with the set of standards demanded by society you are not acting through the fullness of comprehension. By really pondering over the demands of your instincts and the demands of society, you will find out how you can act in wisdom. That action liberates the individual; it does not enchain him. But the liberation of the individual demands great earnestness, great searching into the depth of action; it is not the result of action born of a momentary impulse. So you have to recognize what you now are. However well educated you may be, you are only partly a true individual; the greater part of you is determined by the reaction to society, which you have created. You are but a cog in a tremendous machine which you call society, religion, politics, and as long as you are such a cog, your action is born of limitation; it leads only to disharmony and conflict. It is your action that has resulted in our present chaos. But if you acted out of your own fullness you would discover the true worth of society and the instinct causing your action; then your action would be harmonious, not a compromise. First of all, then, you must become conscious of the false values which have been established through the centuries and to which you have become a slave; you must become conscious of values, to find out whether they are false or true, and this you must do for yourself. No one can do it for you - and herein lies the greatness and glory of man. Thus, by discovering the right value of standards, you liberate the mind from the false standards handed down through ages. But such liberation does not mean impetuous, instinctive action leading to chaos; it means action born of the full harmony of mind and heart. Question: You have never lived the life of a poor man; you have always had the invisible security of your rich friends. You speak of the absolute giving up of every kind of security in life, but millions of people live without such security. You say that one cannot realize that which one has not experienced; consequently, you cannot know what poverty and physical insecurity really are. Krishnamurti: This is a question frequently asked me; I have often answered it before, but I shall answer it again. First of all, when I speak of security I mean the security that the mind establishes for its own comfort. Physical security, some degree of physical comfort, man must have in order to exist. So do not confuse the two. Now each one of you is seeking not only a physical but also a mental security, and in that search you are establishing authority. When you understand the falsity of the security which you seek, then that security ceases to have any value; then you realize that although there must be a minimum of physical security, even that security can have but little value. Then you no longer concentrate your whole mind and heart on the constant acquisition of physical security. I shall put it differently, and I hope it will be clear; but whatever one says can be easily misunderstood. One has to pass through the illusion of words in order to discover the thought that another wishes to convey. I hope you will try to do that during this talk. I say that your pursuit of virtue, which is merely the opposite of that which you call vice, is but a search for security. Because you have a set of standards in your mind, you pursue virtue for the satisfaction that you get from it; for to you virtue is merely a means of acquisitive security. You do not try to acquire virtue for its own intrinsic value, but for what it gives you in return. Your actions, therefore, are concerned merely with the pursuit of virtue; in themselves they are valueless. Your mind is constantly seeking virtue in order to obtain through it something else, and thus your action is always a steppingstone to some further acquisition. Perhaps most of you here are seeking a spiritual rather than a physical security. You seek spiritual security either because you already possess physical security - a large bank account, a secure position, a high place in society - or because you cannot attain physical security and therefore turn to spiritual security as a substitute. But to me there is no such thing as security, a shelter in which your mind and emotion can take comfort. When you realize this, when your mind is free from the idea of comfort, then you will not cling to security as you do now. You ask me how I can understand poverty when I have not experienced it. The answer is simple. Since I am seeking neither physical nor mental security, it matters nothing to me whether I am given food by my friends, or work for it. It is of very little importance to me whether I travel or do not travel. If I am asked, I come; if I am not asked, it makes little difference to me. Because I am rich in myself (and I do not say this with conceit), because I do not seek security, I have few physical needs. But if I were seeking physical comfort, I would emphasize the physical needs, I would emphasize poverty. Let us look at this differently. Most of our quarrels throughout the world concern possession and non-possession; they are concerned with the acquisition of this and the protection of that. Now why do we lay such emphasis on possession? We do it because possession gives us power, pleasure, satisfaction; it gives us a certain assurance of individuality and affords us scope for our action, our ambition. We lay emphasis on possession because of what we derive from it. But if we become rich in ourselves, then life will flow through us harmoniously; then possession or poverty will no longer be of great importance to us. Because we lay emphasis on possession, we lose the richness of life; whereas, if we were complete in ourselves, we should find out the intrinsic value of all things and live in the harmony of mind and heart. Question: It has been said that you are the manifestation of the Christ in our times. What have you to say to this? If it is true, why do you not talk of love and compassion? Krishnamurti: My friends, why do you ask such a question? Why do you ask whether I am the manifestation of Christ? You ask because you want me to assure you that I am, or that I am not the Christ, so that you can judge what I say according to the standard that you have. There are two reasons why you ask this question: You think that you know what the Christ is, and therefore you say, "I will act accordingly; or, if I say that I am the Christ, then you think that what I say must be true. I am not evading the question, but I am not going to tell you who I am. That is of very little importance, and, moreover, how can you know what or who I am even if I tell you? Such speculation is of very little importance. So let us not be concerned about who I am, but let us look at the reason for your asking this question. You want to know who I am because you are uncertain about yourselves. I am not saying whether I am or whether I am not the Christ. I am not giving you a categorical answer, because to me the question is not important. What is important is whether what I am saying is true, and this does not depend on what I am. It is something that you can find out only by freeing yourselves from your prejudices and standards. You cannot attain real freedom from prejudice by looking towards an authority, by working towards an end, yet that is what you are doing; surreptitiously, sedulously, you are searching for an authority, and in that search you are but making yourselves into imitative machines. You ask why I do not speak of love, of compassion. Does the flower talk about its perfume? It simply is. I have spoken about love; but to me the important thing is not to discuss what love is or what compassion is, but to free the mind from all the limitations that prevent the natural flow of what we call love and compassion. What love is, what compassion is, you yourself will know when your mind and heart are free from the limitation which we call egotism, self-consciousness; then you will know without asking, without discussion. You question me now because you think that then you can act according to what you discover from me, that then you will have an authority for your action. So I say again, the real question is not why I do not talk about love and compassion, but rather, what prevents the natural harmonious living of man, the fullness of action which is love. I have talked about the many barriers that prevent our natural living, and I have explained that such living does not mean instinctive, chaotic action, but rich, full living. Rich, natural living has been prevented through centuries of conformity, through centuries of what we call education, which has been but a process of turning out so many human machines. But when you understand the cause of these hindrances and barriers which you have created for yourself through fear in your search for security, then you free yourself from them; then there is love. But this is a realization that cannot be discussed. We do not discuss the sunshine. It is there; we feel its warmth and perceive its penetrating beauty. Only when the sun is hidden do we discuss the sunshine. And so with love and compassion. Question: You have never given us a clear conception of the mystery of death and of the life after death, yet you constantly speak of immortality. Surely you believe in life after death? Krishnamurti: You want to know categorically whether there is or is not annihilation after death: that is the wrong approach to the problem. I hope you will follow what I say, for otherwise my answer will not be clear to you, and you will think that I have not answered your question. Please interrupt me if you do not understand. What do you mean when you speak of death? Your sorrow for the death of another, and the fear of your own death. Sorrow is awakened by the death of another. When your friend dies, you become conscious of loneliness because you have relied on him, because you and he have complemented each other, because you have understood each other, supported and encouraged each other. So when your friend is gone, you are conscious of emptiness; you want that person back to fill the part in your life that he filled before. You want your friend again, but since you cannot have him, you turn to various intellectual ideas, to various emotional concepts, which you think will give you satisfaction. You look to such ideas for consolation, for comfort, instead of finding out the cause of your suffering and freeing yourself eternally from the idea of death. You turn to a series of consolations and satisfactions which gradually diminish your intense suffering; yet, when death returns, you experience the same suffering over again. Death comes and causes you intense sorrow. One whom you greatly love has gone, and his absence accentuates your loneliness. But instead of seeking the cause of that loneliness, you try to escape from it through mental and emotional satisfactions. What is the cause of that loneliness? Reliance on another, the incompleteness of your own life, the continual attempt to avoid life. You do not want to discover the true value of facts; instead, you attribute a value to that which is but an intellectual concept. Thus, the loss of a friend causes you suffering because that loss makes you fully conscious of your loneliness. Then there is the fear of one's own death. I want to know if I shall live after my death, if I shall reincarnate, if there is a continuance for me in some form. I am concerned with these hopes and fears because I have known no rich moment during my life; I have known no single day without conflict, no single day in which I have felt complete, as a flower. Therefore I have this intense desire for fulfillment, a desire that involves the idea of time. What do we mean when we talk about the "I"? You are conscious of the "I" only when you are caught in the conflict of choice, in the conflict of duality. In this conflict you become conscious of yourself, and you identify yourself with the one or the other, and from this continual identification results the idea of "I". Please consider this with your heart and mind, for it is not a philosophical idea which can be simply accepted or rejected. I say that through the conflict of choice, mind has established memory, many layers of memory; it has become identified with these layers, and it calls itself the "I", the ego. And hence arises the question, "What will happen to me when I die? Shall I have an opportunity to live again? Is there a future fulfillment?" To me, these questions are born of craving and confusion. What is important is the freeing of the mind from this conflict of choice, for only when you have thus freed yourself can there be immortality. For most people the idea of immortality is the continuance of the "I", without end, through time. But I say such a concept is false. "Then, " you answer, "there must be total annihilation." I say that is not true either. Your belief that total annihilation must follow the cessation of the limited consciousness we call the "I", is false. You cannot understand immortality that way, for your mind is caught up in opposites. Immortality is free from all opposites; it is harmonious action in which the mind is utterly freed from conflict of the "I". I say there is immortality, immortality which transcends all our conceptions, theories and beliefs. Only when you have full individual comprehension of opposites, will you be free from opposites. As long as mind creates conflict through choice, there must be consciousness as memory which is the "I", and it is the "I" which fears death and longs for its own continuance. Hence there is not the capacity to understand the fullness of action in the present, which is immortality. A certain brahmin, according to an old Indian legend, decided to give away some of his possessions in the performance of a religious sacrifice. Now this brahmin had a little son who watched his father and plied him with many questions until the father became annoyed. At last the son asked, "To whom are you going to give me?" And the father replied in anger, "I shall give you to Death." Now it was held in ancient times that whatever was said had to be carried out; so the brahmin had to send his son to Death, in accordance with his rashly spoken words. As the boy made his way to the house of Death, he listened to what many teachers had to say about death and life after death. When he arrived at the house of Death, he found that Death was absent; so he waited for three days without food, in accordance with the ancient custom which forbade eating in the absence of the host. When at last Death arrived, he apologized humbly for having kept a brahmin waiting, and as a token of regret he granted the boy any three wishes that he might desire. For his first wish the boy asked to be returned to his father; for his second, he requested that he be instructed in certain ceremonial rites. But the boy's third wish was not a request but a question: "Tell me, Death", he asked, "the truth about annihilation. Of the teachers to whom I have listened on my way here, some say that there is annihilation; others say that there is continuity. Tell me, O Death, what is true." "Do not ask me that question", replied Death. But the boy insisted. So in answer to that question Death taught the boy the meaning of immortality. Death did not tell him whether there is continuity, whether there is life after death, or whether there is annihilation; Death taught him rather the meaning of immortality. You want to know whether there is continuity. Some scientists are now proving that there is. Religions affirm it, many people believe it, and you may believe it if you choose. But to me, it is of little importance. There will always be conflict between life and death. Only when you know immortality is there neither beginning nor end; only then does action imply fulfillment, and only then is it infinite. So I say again, the idea of reincarnation is of little importance. In the "I" there is nothing lasting; the "I" is composed of a series of memories involving conflict. You cannot make that "I" immortal. Your whole basis of thought is a series of achievements and therefore a continuous effort, a continuous limitation of consciousness. Yet you hope in that way to realize immortality, to feel the ecstasy of the infinite. I say that immortality is reality. You cannot discuss it; you can know it in your action, action born of the fullness, the richness, of wisdom; but that fullness, that richness, you cannot attain by listening to a spiritual guide or by reading a book of instruction. Wisdom comes only when there is fullness of action, when there is complete awareness of your whole being in action; then you will see that all the books and teachers that pretend to guide you to wisdom can teach you nothing. You can know that which is immortal, everlasting, only when your mind is free from all sense of individuality which is created by the limited consciousness, which is the "I". Question: What are the causes of the misunderstanding which makes us ask you questions instead of acting and living? Krishnamurti: It is good to question, but how do you receive the answers? You ask a question, and receive a reply. But what do you do with that reply? You have asked me what there is after death, and I have given you my answer. Now what will you do with that answer? Will you store it in some corner of your brain and let it remain there? You have intellectual granaries in which you collect ideas that you do not understand, but which you hope will serve you in trouble and sorrow. But if you understand, if you give yourself heart and mind to what I say, then you will act; then action will be born of your own fullness. Now there are two ways of asking a question: You may ask a question when you are in the intensity of suffering, or you may ask a question intellectually, when you are bored and at your ease. One day you want to know intellectually; another day you ask because you suffer and want to know the reason for the suffering. You can really know only when you question in the intensity of suffering, when you do not desire to escape from suffering, when you meet it face to face; only then will you know the value of my answer, its human value for man. Question: Exactly what do you mean by action without aim? If it is the immediate response of our whole being in which aim and action are one, how can all the action of our daily life be without aim? Krishnamurti: You yourself have given the answer to the question, but you have given it without understanding. What will you do in your daily life without an aim? In your daily life you may have a plan. But when you experience intense suffering, when you are caught in a great crisis that demands immediate decision, then you act without aim; then there is no motive in your action, because you are trying to find out the cause of suffering with your whole being. But most of you are not inclined to act fully. You are constantly trying to escape from suffering, you try to avoid suffering; you do not want to confront it. I shall explain what I mean in another way. If you are a Christian, you look at life from a particular point of view; if you are a Hindu, you look at it from another angle. In other words, the background to your mind colours your view of life, and all that you perceive is seen only through that coloured view. Thus you never see life as it really is; you look at it only through a screen of prejudice, and therefore your action must ever be incomplete, it must ever have a motive. But if your mind is free from all prejudice, then you meet life as it is; then you meet life fully, without the search for a reward or the attempt to escape from punishment. Question: What is the relationship between technique and life, and why do most of us mistake the one for the other? Krishnamurti: Life, truth, is to be lived; but expression demands a technique. Now in order to paint, you need to learn a technique; but a great artist, if he felt the flame of creative impulse, would not be a slave to technique. If you are rich within yourself, your life is simple. But you want to arrive at that complete richness through such external means as the simplicity of dress, the simplicity of dwelling, through asceticism and self-discipline. In other words, the simplicity that results from inner richness you want to obtain by means of technique. There is no technique that will guide you to simplicity; there is no path that will lead you to the land of truth. When you understand that with your whole being, then technique will take its proper place in your life. ALPINO, ITALY 4TH PUBLIC TALK 9TH JULY, 1933 Friends, Before answering some of the questions that have been asked me, I shall give a brief talk concerning memory and time. When you meet an experience wholly, completely, without bias or prejudice, it leaves no scar of memory. Every one of you goes through experiences, and if you meet them completely, with your whole being, then the mind is not caught up in the wave of memory. When your action is incomplete, when you do not meet an experience fully, but through the barriers of tradition, prejudice, or fear, then that action is followed by the gnawing of memory. As long as there is this scar of memory, there must be the division of time as past, present and future. As long as mind is tethered to the idea that action must be divided into the past, present, and future, there is identification through time and therefore a continuity from which arises the fear of death, the fear of the loss of love. To understand timeless reality, timeless life, action must be complete. But you cannot become aware of this timeless reality by searching for it; you cannot acquire it by asking, "How can I obtain this consciousness?" Now what is it that causes memory? What is it that prevents your acting completely, harmoniously, richly in every experience of life? Incomplete action arises when mind and heart are limited by hindrances, by barriers. If mind and heart are free, then you will meet every experience fully. But most of you are surrounded by barriers - the barriers of security, authority, fear, postponement. And since you have these barriers, you naturally act within them, and therefore you are unable to act completely. But when you become aware of these barriers, when you become aware with your heart and mind in the midst of a crisis, that awareness frees your mind without effort from the barriers that have been preventing your complete action, Thus, as long as there is conflict, there is memory. That is, when your action is born of incompleteness, then the memory of that action conditions the present. Such memory produces conflict in the present and creates the idea of consistency. You admire the man who is consistent, the man who has established a principle and acts in accordance with that principle. You attach the idea of nobility and virtue to a person who is consistent. Now consistency results from memory. That is, because you have not acted completely, because you have not understood the whole significance of experience in the present, you establish artificially a principle according to which you resolve to live tomorrow. Therefore your mind is being guided, trained, controlled by the lack of understanding, which you call consistency. Now please don't go to the other extreme, to the opposite, and think that you must be utterly inconsistent. I am not urging you to be inconsistent; I am talking of your freeing yourself from the fetish of consistency which you have set up, freeing yourself from the idea that you must fit into a pattern. You have established the principle of consistency because you have not understood; from your lack of understanding you evolve the idea that you must be consistent, and you measure any experience that confronts you by the idea that you have established, by the idea or principle that is born only through the lack of understanding. So consistency, living according to a pattern, exists as long as your life lacks richness, as long as your action is not complete. If you observe your own mind in action, you will see that you are continually trying to be consistent. You say, "I must", or "I must not." I hope that you have understood what I have said in my former talks; otherwise what I say today will have little meaning for you. I repeat that this idea of consistency is born when you do not meet life wholly, completely, when you meet life through a memory; and when you constantly follow a pattern, you are but increasing the consistency of that memory. You have created the idea of consistency by your refusal to meet freely, openly, and without prejudice, every experience of life. That is, you are always meeting experiences partially, and out of that arises conflict. To overcome that conflict you say that you must have a principle; you establish a principle, an ideal, and strive to condition your action by it. That is, you are constantly trying to imitate; you are trying to control your daily experience, the actions of your everyday life, through the idea of consistency. But when you really understand this, when you understand it with your heart and mind, with your complete being, then you will see the falsity of imitation and of being consistent. When you are aware of this, you begin to free your mind without effort from this long- established habit of consistency, though this does not mean that you must become inconsistent. To me, then, consistency is the sign of memory, memory that results from lack of true comprehension of experience. And that memory creates the idea of time; it creates the idea of the present, past, and future, on which all our actions are based. We consider what we were yesterday, what we shall be tomorrow. Such an idea of time will exist as long as mind and heart are divided. As long as action is not born of completeness, there must be the division of time. Time is but an illusion, it is but the incompleteness of action. A mind that is trying to mould itself after an ideal, to be consistent to a principle, naturally creates conflict, because it constantly limits itself in action. In that there is no freedom; in that there is no comprehension of experience. In meeting life in that way you are meeting it only partially; you are choosing, and in that choosing you lose the full significance of experience. You live incompletely, and hence you seek comfort in the idea of reincarnation; hence your question, "What happens to me when I die?" Since you do not live fully in your daily life, you say, "I must have a future, more time in which to live completely." Do not seek to remedy that incompleteness, but become aware of the cause that prevents you from living completely. You will find that this cause is imitation, conformity, consistency, the search for security which gives birth to authority. All these keep you from the completeness of action because, under their limitation, action becomes but a series of achievements leading to an end, and hence to continued conflict and suffering. Only when you meet experiences without barriers will you find continual joy; then you will no longer be burdened by the weight of memory that prevents action. Then you will live in the completeness of time. That to me is immortality. Question: Meditation and the discipline of mind have greatly helped me in life. Now by listening to your teaching I am greatly confused, because it discards all self-discipline. Has meditation likewise no meaning to you? Or have you a new way of meditation to offer us? Krishnamurti: As I have already explained, where there is choice there must be conflict, because choice is based on want. Where there is want there is no discernment, and therefore your choice merely creates a further obstacle. When you suffer, you want happiness, comfort, you want to escape from suffering; but since want prevents discernment, you blindly accept any idea, any belief that you think will give you relief from conflict. You may think that you reason in making your choice, but you do not. In this way you have set up ideas which you call noble, worthy, admirable, and you force your mind to conform to these ideas; or you concentrate on a particular picture or image, and thereby you create a division in your action. You try to control your action through meditation, through choice. If you do not understand what I am saying, please interrupt me, so that we can discuss it. As I have said, when you experience sorrow, you immediately begin to search for the opposite. You want to be comforted, and in your search you accept any comfort, any palliative, that will give you momentary satisfaction. You may think that you reason before you accept such comfort, such relief, but in reality you accept it blindly, without reason, for where there is want there cannot be true discernment. Now meditation, for most people, is based on the idea of choice. In India, the idea is carried to its extreme. There the man who can sit still for a long period of time, dwelling continuously on one idea, is considered spiritual. But, actually, what has he done? He has discarded all ideas except the one that he has deliberately chosen, and his choice gives him satisfaction. He has trained his mind to concentrate on this one idea, this one picture; he controls and thereby limits his mind and hopes to overcome conflict. Now to me, this idea of meditation - of course I have not described it in detail - is utterly absurd. It is not really meditation; it is a clever escape from conflict, an intellectual feat that has nothing whatever to do with true living. You have trained your mind to conform to a certain rule according to which you hope to meet life. But you will never meet life as long as you are held in a mould. Life will pass you by because you have already limited your mind by your own choice. Why do you feel that you must meditate? Do you mean by meditation, concentration? If you are really interested, then you do not struggle, force yourself to concentrate. Only when you are not interested do you have to force yourself brutally and violently. But in forcing yourself, you destroy your mind, and then your mind is no longer free, nor is your emotion. Both are crippled. I say that there is a joy, a peace, in meditation without effort, and that can come only when your mind is freed from all choice, when your mind is no longer creating a division in action. We have tried to train the mind and heart to follow a tradition, a way of life, but through such training we have not understood, we have merely created opposites. Now I am not saying that action must be impetuous, chaotic. What I say is that when the mind is caught up in division, that division will continue to exist even though you strive to suppress it by means of consistency. to a principle, even though you try to dominate and overcome it by establishing an ideal. What you call the spiritual life is a continual effort, a ceaseless striving, by which the mind tries to cling to one idea, one image; it is a life, therefore, which is not full, complete. After listening to this talk you may say: "I have been told that I should live fully, completely; that I must not be bound by an ideal, a principle; that I must not be consistent - therefore I shall do what I like." Now that is not the idea that I wish to leave with you in this last talk. I am not talking about action that is merely impetuous, impulsive, thoughtless: I am talking about action that is complete, which is ecstasy. And I say that you cannot act fully by forcing your mind, by strenuously moulding your mind, by living in conformity with an idea, a principle, or a goal. Have you ever considered the person who meditates? He is a person who chooses. He chooses that which he likes, that which will give him what he calls help. So what he is really seeking is something that will give him comfort, satisfaction - a kind of dead peace, a stagnation. And yet, the man who is able to meditate we call a great man, a spiritual man. Our whole effort is concerned with this superimposition of what we call right ideas on what we consider wrong ideas, and by this attempt we continually create a division in action. We do not free the mind from division; we do not understand that that continuous choice born of want, of emptiness, of craving, is the cause of this division. When we experience a feeling of emptiness, we want to fill that emptiness, that void; when we experience incompleteness, we want to escape that incompleteness which causes suffering. For this purpose we invent an intellectual satisfaction which we call meditation. Now you will say that I have given you no constructive or positive instruction. Beware of the man who offers you positive methods, for he is giving you merely his pattern, his mould. If you really live, if you try to free the mind and heart from all limitation -not through self-analysis and introspection, but through awareness in action - then the obstacles that now hinder you from the completeness of life will fall away. This awareness is the joy of meditation - meditation that is not the effort of an hour, but which is action, which is life itself. You ask me: "Have you a new way of meditation to offer us?" Now you meditate in order to achieve a result. You meditate with the idea of gain, just as you live with the idea of reaching a spiritual height, a spiritual altitude. You may strive for that spiritual height; but I assure you that, though you may appear to attain it, you will still experience the feeling of emptiness. Your meditation has no value in itself, as your action has no value in itself, because you are constantly looking for a culmination, a reward. Only when mind and heart are free of this idea of achievement, this idea born of effort, choice, and gain - only when you are free of that idea, I say, is there an eternal life which is not a finality, but an everbecoming, an everrenewing. Question: I recognize a conflict within me, yet that conflict does not create a crisis, a consuming flame within me, urging me to resolve that conflict and realize truth. How would you act in my place? Krishnamurti: The questioner says that he recognizes the conflict within him, but that that conflict causes no crisis and therefore no action. I feel that is the case with the majority of people. You ask what you should do. Whatever you try to do, you do intellectually, and therefore falsely. It is only when you are really willing to face your conflict and understand it fully, that you will experience a crisis. But because such a crisis demands action, most of you are unwilling to face it. I cannot push you into the crisis. Conflict exists in you, but you want to escape that conflict; you want to find a means whereby you can avoid it, postpone it. So when you say, "I cannot resolve my conflict into a crisis", your words merely show that your mind is trying to avoid the conflict - and the freedom that results from facing it completely. As long as your mind is carefully, surreptitiously avoiding conflict, as long as it is searching for comfort through escape, no one can help you to complete action, no one can push you into a crisis that will resolve your conflict. When you once realize this - not see it merely intellectually, but also feel the truth of it - then your conflict will create the flame which will consume it. Question: This is what I have gathered from listening to you: One becomes aware only in a crisis; a crisis involves suffering. So if one is to be aware all the time, one must live continually in a state of crisis, that is, a state of mental suffering and agony. This is a doctrine of pessimism, not of the happiness and ecstasy of which you speak. Krishnamurti: I am afraid you haven't listened to what I have been saying. You know, there are two ways of listening: there is the mere listening to words, as you listen when you are not really interested, when you are not trying to fathom the depths of a problem; and there is the listening which catches the real significance of what is being said, the listening that requires a keen, alert mind. I think that you have not really listened to what I have been saying. First of all, if there is no conflict, if your life has in it no crises and you are perfectly happy, then why bother about conflicts and crises? If you are not suffering, then I am very glad! Our whole system of life is arranged so that you may escape from suffering. But the man who faces the cause of suffering, and is thereby freed from that suffering, you call a pessimist. I shall again explain briefly what I have been saying, so that you will understand. Each one of you is conscious of a great void, an emptiness within you, and being conscious of that emptiness, you either try to fill it or to run away from it; and both acts amount to the same thing. You choose what will fill that emptiness, and this choosing you call progress or experience. But your choice is based on sensation, on craving, and hence involves neither discernment, nor intelligence, nor wisdom. You choose today that which gives you a greater satisfaction, a greater sensation than you received from yesterday's choice. So what you call choice is merely your way of running away from the emptiness within you, and hence you are merely postponing the understanding of the cause of suffering. Thus, the movement from sorrow to sorrow, from sensation to sensation, you call evolution, growth. One day you choose a hat that gives you satisfaction; the next day you tire of that satisfaction, and want another - a car, a house, or you want what you call love. Later on, as you become tired of these, you want the idea or the image of a god. So you progress from the wanting of a hat to the wanting of a god, and therein you think you have made admirable spiritual advancement. Yet all these choices are based merely on sensation, and all that you have done is to change your objects of choice. Where there is choice there must be conflict, because choice is based on craving, on the desire to complete the emptiness within you or to escape from that emptiness. Instead of trying to understand the cause of suffering, you are constantly trying to conquer that suffering or to escape from it, which is the same thing. But I say, find out the cause of your suffering. That cause, you will discover, is continual want, continual craving that blinds discernment. If you understand that - if you understand it not just intellectually, but with your whole being - then your action will be free from the limitation of choice; then you are really living, living naturally, harmoniously, not individualistically, in utter chaos, as now. If you live fully, your life does not result in discord, because your action is born of richness and not of poverty. Question: How can I know action and the illusion from which it springs if I do not probe action and examine it? How can we hope to know and recognize our barriers if we do not examine them? Then why not analyze action? Krishnamurti: Please, since my time is limited, this is the last question that I shall be able to answer. Have you tried to analyze your action? Then, when you were analyzing it, that action was already dead. If you try to analyze your movement when you are dancing, you put an end to that movement; but if your movement is born of full awareness, full consciousness, then you know what your movement is in the very action of that movement; you know without attempting to analyze. Have I made that clear? I say that if you analyze action, you will never act; your action will become slowly restricted and will finally result in the death of action. The same thing applies to your mind, your thought, your emotion. When you begin to analyze, you put an end to movement; when you try to dissect an intense feeling, that feeling dies. But if you are aware with your heart and mind, if you are fully conscious of your action, then you will know the source from which action springs. When we act, we are acting partially, we are not acting with our whole being. Hence, in our attempt to balance the mind against the heart, in our attempt to dominate the one by the other, we think that we must analyze our action. Now what I am trying to explain requires an understanding that cannot be given to you through words. Only in the moment of true awareness can you become conscious of this struggle for domination; then, if you are interested in acting harmoniously, completely, you become aware that your action has been influenced by your fear of public opinion, by the standards of a social system, by the concepts of civilization. Then you become aware of your fears and prejudices without analyzing them; and the moment you become aware in action, these fears and prejudices disappear. When you are aware with your mind and heart of the necessity for complete action, you act harmoniously. Then all your fears, your barriers, your desire for power, for attainment - all these reveal themselves, and the shadows of disharmony fade away. OSLO, NORWAY TALK IN UNIVERSITY HALL 5TH SEPTEMBER, 1933 Friends, I have been given some questions which I shall answer after my talk. Wherever you go throughout the world you find suffering. There seems to be no limit to suffering, no end to the innumerable problems that concern man, no way out of his continual conflict with himself and his neighbours. Suffering seems to be ever the common lot of man, and he tries to overcome that suffering through the search for comfort; he thinks that by searching for consolation, by seeking comfort, he will free himself from this continual battle, from his problems of conflict and suffering. And he sets out to discover what will give him the most satisfaction, what will give him the greatest consolation in this continual battle of suffering, and goes from one consolation to another, from one sensation to another, from one satisfaction to another. Thus, through the process of time, he gradually sets up innumerable securities, shelters, to which he runs when he experiences intense suffering. Now there are many kinds of securities, many kinds of shelters. There are those that give temporary emotional satisfaction, such as drugs or drink; there are amusements and all that pertains to transient pleasure. Again, there are the innumerable beliefs in which man seeks shelter from his suffering; he clings to beliefs or ideals in the hope that they will shape his life and that by conformity he will gradually overcome suffering. Or he takes refuge in systems of thought which he calls philosophies, but which are merely theories handed down through the centuries, or theories that may have been true for those who brought them out, but are not necessarily true for others. Or again, man turns to religion, that is, to a system of thought that tries to shape him, to mould him to a particular pattern, to lead him toward an end; for religion, instead of giving man understanding, gives him merely consolation. There is no such thing as comfort in life, no such thing as security. But in his search for comfort, man has built up through the centuries the securities of religion, ideals, beliefs, and the idea of God. To me there is God, a living, eternal reality. But this reality cannot be described; each one must realize it for himself. Any- one who tries to imagine what God is, what truth is, is but seeking an escape, a shelter from the daily routine of conflict. When man has set up a security - the security of public opinion or of the happiness that he derives from possessions or from the practice of virtue, which is but an escape - he meets every incident of life, every one of the innumerable experiences of life, with the background of that security; that is, he never meets life as it really is. He comes to it with a prejudice, with a background already developed through fear; with his mind fully clothed, burdened with ideas, he approaches life. To put it differently, man in general sees life only through the tradition of time which he bears in his mind and his heart; whereas to me life is fresh, renewing, moving, never static. Man's mind and heart are burdened with the unquestioned desire for comfort, which must necessarily bring about authority. Through authority he meets life, and hence he is incapable of understanding the full significance of experience, which alone can release him from suffering. He consoles himself with the false values of life and becomes merely a machine, a cog in the social structure or the religious system. One cannot find out what is true value as long as one's mind is seeking consolation; and since most minds are seeking consolation, comfort, security, they cannot find out what truth is. Thus, most people are not individuals; they are merely cogs in a system. To me, an individual is a person who, through questioning, discovers right values; and one can truly question only when one is suffering. You know, when you suffer, your mind is made acute, alive; then you are not theoretical; and only in that state of mind can you question what is the true value of the standards that society, religion, and politics have set about us. Only in that state can we question, and when we question, when we discover true values, then we are true individuals. Not until then. That is, we are not individuals so long as we are unconscious of the values to which we have become accustomed through securities, through religions, through the pursuit of beliefs and ideals. We are merely machines, slaves to public opinion, slaves to the innumerable ideals that religions have placed about us, slaves to economic and political systems that we accept. And since everyone is a cog in this machine, we can never find out true values, lasting values, in which alone there is eternal happiness, eternal realization of truth. The first thing to realize, then, is that we have these barriers, these values given to us. To find out their living significance we must question, and we can question only when our minds and hearts are burning with intense suffering. And everyone does suffer; suffering is not the gift of a few. But when we suffer we seek immediate consolation, comfort, and therefore there is no longer questioning; there is no longer doubt, but mere acceptance. Hence, where there is want, there cannot be the understanding of right values which alone sets man free, which alone gives him the capacity of existing as a complete human being. And as I was saying, when we meet life partially, with all this traditional background of unquestioned and dead values, naturally there is conflict with life, and this conflict creates in each one of us the idea of ego consciousness. That is, when our minds are prejudiced by an idea or by a belief or by unquestioned values, there is limitation, and that limitation creates the self-consciousness which in turn brings about suffering. To put it differently, as long as mind and heart are caught up in the false values that religions and philosophies have set about us, as long as the mind has not discovered true, living values for itself, there is limitation of consciousness, limitation of understanding, which creates the idea of "I". And from this idea of "I", from the fact that consciousness knows the limitation of time as a beginning and an end, springs sorrow. Such consciousness, such a mind and heart are caught up in the fear of death, and hence the inquiry into the hereafter. When you understand that truth, life, can be realized only when you discover for yourself, without any authority or imitation, the true significance of suffering, the living value of every action, then your mind frees itself from ego consciousness. Since most of us are unconsciously seeking a shelter, a place of. safety in which we shall not be hurt, since most of us are seeking in false values an escape from continual conflict, therefore I say, become conscious that the whole process of thought, at the present time, is a continual search for shelter, for authority, for patterns. to conform to, for systems to follow, for methods to imitate. When you realize that there is no such thing as comfort, no such thing as security, either in possession of things or of ideas, then you face life as it is, not with the background of intense longing for comfort. Then you become aware, but without the constant struggle to become aware - a struggle that goes on as long as your mind and your heart are seeking a continual escape from life through ideals, through conformity, through imitation, through authority. When you realize that, you give up seeking an escape; you are then able to meet life completely, nakedly, wholly, and in that there is understanding, which alone gives you that ecstasy of life. To put it in another way, since our minds and hearts have through ages been crippled by false values, we are incapable of meeting experience wholly. If you are a Christian you meet it in one way, as dictated by all your prejudices of Christianity and your religious training. If you are a Conservative or a Communist, you meet it in another way. If you hold any particular belief, you meet life in that particular way, and hope to understand its full significance through a prejudiced mind. Only when you realize that life, that free, eternal movement, cannot be met partially and with prejudice, only then are you free, without effort. Then you are unhampered by all the things you possess - by inherited tradition or acquired knowledge. I say knowledge, not wisdom, for wisdom does not enter here. Wisdom is natural, spontaneous; it comes only when one meets life openly and without any barrier. To meet life openly man must free himself of all knowledge; he must not seek an explanation of suffering, for when he seeks such an explanation he is being caught by fear. So I repeat, there is a way of living without effort, without the constant strain of achievement and struggle for success, without the constant fear of loss or gain; I say there is an harmonious way of living life that comes when you meet every experience, every action completely, when your mind is not divided against itself, when your heart is not in conflict with your mind, when you do all things wholly, with complete unity of mind and heart. Then in that richness, in that plenitude, there is the ecstasy of life, and that to me is everlasting, that to me is eternal. Question: You say that your teachings are for all, not for any select few. If that is so, why do we find it difficult to understand you? Krishnamurti: It is not a question of understanding me. Why should you understand me? Truth is not mine, that you should understand me. You find my words difficult to understand because your minds are suffocated with ideas. What I say is very simple. It is not for the select few; it is for anyone who is willing to try. I say that if you would free yourselves from ideas, from beliefs, from all the securities that people have built up through centuries, then you would understand life. You can free yourselves only by questioning, and you can question only when you are in revolt - not when you are stagnant with satisfying ideas. When your minds are suffocated with beliefs, when they are heavy with knowledge acquired from books, then it is impossible to understand life. So it is not a question of understanding me. Please - and I am not saying this with any conceit - I have found a way; not a method that you can practise, a system that becomes a cage, a prison. I have realized truth, God, or whatever name you like to give it. I say there is that eternal living reality, but it cannot be realized while the mind and heart are burdened, crippled with the idea of "I". As long as that self-consciousness, that limitation exists, there can be no realization of the whole, the totality of life. That "I" exists as long as there are false values - false values that we have inherited or that we have sedulously created in our search for security, or that we have established as our authority in our search for comfort. But right values, living values - these you can discover only when you really suffer, when you are greatly discontented. If you are willing to become free from the pursuit of gain, then you will find them. But most of us do not want to be free; we want to keep what we have gained, either in virtue or in knowledge or in possessions; we want to keep all these. Thus burdened we try to meet life, and hence the utter impossibility of understanding it completely. So the difficulty lies not in understanding me, but in understanding life itself; and that difficulty will exist as long as your minds are burdened with this consciousness that we call "I". I cannot give you right values. If I were to tell you, you would make of that a system and imitate it, thus setting up but another series of false values. But you can discover right values for yourself, when you become truly an individual, when you cease to be a machine. And you can free yourself from this murderous machine of false values only when you are in great revolt. Question: It has been claimed by some that you are the Christ come again. We should like to know quite definitely what you have to say about this. Do you accept or reject the claim? Krishnamurti: I do neither. It does not interest me. Of what value, my friends, is it to you to ask me this? I am asked this question wherever I go. People want to know if I am, or if I am not. If I say I am, they either take my words as authority or laugh at them; if I say I am not, they are delighted. I neither assert nor deny. To me the claim is of very little importance because I feel that what I have to say is inherently right in itself. It does not depend on titles or degrees, revelation or authority. What is of importance is your understanding of it, your intelligence and your own awakened desire to find out, your own love of life - not the assertion that I am or that I am not the Christ. Question: Is your realization of truth permanent and present all the time, or are there dark times when you again face the bondage of fear and despair? Krishnamurti: The bondage of fear exists as long as there remains the limitation of consciousness that you call the "I". When you become rich within yourself, then you will no longer feel want. It is in this continual battle of want, in this seeking of advantage from circumstances, that fear and darkness exist. I think I am free from that. How can you know it? You can't. I might be deceiving you. So do not bother about it. But I have this to say: One can live effortlessly, in a way that cannot be arrived at through effort; one can live without this incessant struggle for spiritual achievement; one can live harmoniously, completely in action - not in theory, but in daily life, in daily contact with human beings. I say that there is a way to free the mind from all suffering, a way to live completely, wholly, eternally. But to do that, one must be completely open towards life; one must allow no shelter or reserve to remain in which mind can dwell, to which heart can withdraw in times of conflict. Question: You say that truth is simple. To us, what you say seems very abstract. What is the practical relation, according to you, between truth and actual life? Krishnamurti: What is it that we call actual life? Earning money, exploiting others and being exploited ourselves, marriage, children, seeking friends, experiencing jealousies, quarrels, fear of death, the inquiry into the hereafter, laying up money for old age - all these we call daily life. Now to me, truth or the eternal becoming of life cannot be found apart from these. In the transient lies the eternal - not apart from the transient. Please, why do we exploit, either in physical things or in spiritual things? Why are we exploited by religions that we have set up? Why are we exploited by priests to whom we look for comfort? Because we have thought of life as a series of achievements, not as a complete action. When we look to life as a means to acquisition, whether of things or of ideas, when we look to life as a school in which to learn, in which to grow, then we are dependent upon that self-consciousness, upon that limitation: we create the exploiter, and we become the exploited. But if we become utterly individual, completely self-sufficient, alone in our understanding, then we do not differentiate between actual living and truth, or God. You know, because we find life difficult, because we do not understand all the intricacies of daily action. because we want to escape from that confusion, we turn to the idea of an objective principle; and so we differentiate, we distinguish truth as being impractical, as having nothing to do with daily life. Thus truth, or God, becomes an escape to which we turn in days of conflict and trouble. But if, in our daily life, we would find out why we act, if we would meet the incidents, the experiences, the sufferings of life wholly, then we would not differentiate practical life from impractical truth. Because we do not meet experiences with our whole being, mentally and emotionally, because we are not capable of doing that, we separate daily life and practical action from the idea of truth. Question: Don't you think that the support from religions and religious teachers is a great help to man in his effort to free himself from all that binds him? Krishnamurti: No teacher can give us right values. You may read all the books in the world, but you cannot gather wisdom from them. You may follow all the religious systems of the world and yet remain a slave to them. Only when you stand alone can you find wisdom and be wholly free, liberated. By aloneness I do not mean living apart from humanity. I mean that aloneness which comes from understanding, not from withdrawal. It exists, in other words, when one is utterly individual, not individualistic. You know, we think that by continually practicing the piano under the direction of an instructor we shall become great pianists, creative musicians; and similarly we look to religious teachers for guidance. We say to ourselves, "If I practise daily what they have laid down, I shall have the flame of creative understanding." I say, you can practise it without end, and you will still not have that creative flame. I know many who daily practise certain ideals, but they become only more and more withered in their understanding, because they are merely imitating, they are merely living up to a standard. They have freed themselves from one teacher and have gone to another; they have merely transferred themselves from one cage to another. But if you do not seek comfort, if you continually question - and you can question only when you are in revolt - then you establish freedom from all teachers and all religions; then you are supremely human, belonging neither to a party nor to a religion nor to a cage. Question: Do you mean to say that there is no help for men when life grows difficult? Are they left entirely to help themselves? Krishnamurti: I think, if I am not mistaken - if I am, please correct me - I think the questioner wants to know if there is not a source, a person or an idea, to which one can turn in time of trouble, in time of grief, in time of suffering. I say there is no permanent source that can give one understanding. You know, to me the glory of man is that no one can save him except himself. Please, as you look at man throughout the world, you see that he has always turned to another for help. In India we look to theories, to teachers, for help. Here also you do the same. All over the world man turns to somebody to lift him out of his own ignorance. I say no one can lift you out of your own ignorance. You have created it through fear, through imitation, through the search for security, and hence you have established authorities. You have created it for yourselves, this ignorance that holds each one of you, and no one can free you except you yourselves through your own understanding. Others may free you momentarily, but as long as the root cause of ignorance exists, you merely create another set of illusions. To me, the root cause of ignorance is the consciousness of "I", from which arise conflict and sorrow. As long as that "I" consciousness exists, there must be suffering from which no one can free you. In your devotion to a person or to an idea you may momentarily sever yourselves from that consciousness, but while that consciousness remains it is like a wound that is always festering. The mind can free itself from that ignorance only when it meets life wholly, when it experiences completely, without prejudice, without preconceived ideas, when it is no longer crippled by a belief or an idea. It is one of the illusions that we cherish, that someone else can save us, that we cannot lift ourselves out of this mire of suffering. For centuries we have looked for help from without, and we are still held by that belief. Question: What is the real cause of the present chaos in the world, and how can this painful state of things be remedied? Krishnamurti: First of all, I feel, by not looking to a system as a remedy. You know, through centuries we have built up a system, the possessive system based on security. We have built it up; each one of us is responsible for this system wherein acquisition, gain, power, authority, and imitation play the most important part. We have made laws to preserve that system, laws based on our selfishness, and we have become slaves to these laws. Now we want to introduce a new set of laws, to which we shall again become slaves, laws by which possession becomes a crime. But if we understood the true function of individuality, then we would tackle the root cause of all this chaos in the world, this chaos that exists because we are not truly individual. Please understand what I mean by being individual; I do not mean individualistic. We have for centuries been individualistic, seeking security for ourselves, comfort for ourselves. We have looked to the physical things of life to give us inward shelter, happiness, spiritual ease. We have been dead and have not known it. Because we have imitated and followed, we have blindly exploited beliefs. And being spiritually dead, naturally we have tried to realize our creative powers in the world of acquisition - hence the present chaos wherein each man seeks only his own advantage. But if each one individually begins to free himself from all imitation, and thus begins to realize that creative life, that creative energy which is free, spiritual, then, I feel, he will not look for or give emphasis to either possession or non-possession. Isn't that so? Our entire lives are a process of imitation. Public opinion says this, so we must do it. I am not saying, please, that you must go against all convention, that you must impetuously do whatever you like: that would be equally stupid. What I am saying is this: Since we are merely machines, since we are ruthlessly individualistic in the world of acquisition, I say, free yourselves from all imitation, become individuals; question every standard, everything that is about you, not just intellectually, not when you feel at ease with life, but in the moment of suffering when your mind and heart are acute and awake. Then, in that realization which comes from the discovery of living values, you will not divide life into sections -economic, domestic, spiritual; you will meet it as a complete unit; you will meet it as a complete human being. To put an end to the chaos in the world, the ruthless aggression and exploitation, you cannot look to any system. Only you yourselves can do it, when you become responsible, and you can be responsible only when you are really creating, when you are no longer imitating. In that freedom there will be true co-operation, not the individualism that now exists. FROGNERSETEREN, NORWAY 1ST PUBLIC TALK 6TH SEPTEMBER, 1933 Friends, Our very search for the understanding of life, for the meaning of life, our struggle to comprehend the whole substance of life or to find out what truth is, destroys our understanding. In this talk I am going to try to explain that where there is a search to understand life, or to find out the significance of life, that very search perverts our judgment. If we suffer, we want an explanation of that suffering; we feel that if we don't search, if we don't try to find out the meaning of existence, then we are not progressing or gaining wisdom. So we are constantly making an effort to understand, and in that search for understanding we consciously or unconsciously set up a goal towards which we are driven. We establish a goal, the ideal of a perfect life, and we try to be true to that goal, to that end. As I have said, consciously or unconsciously we set up a goal, a purpose, a principle or belief, and having established that we try to be true to it; we try to be true to an experience which we have but partly understood. By that process we establish a duality. Because we do not understand the immediate with its problems, with its conventions, because we do not understand the present, we establish an idea, a goal, an end, towards which we try to advance. Because we are not prepared to be alert in meeting suffering wholly as it comes, because we have not the capacity to face experience, we try to establish a goal and be consistent. Thereby we develop a duality in action, in thought, and in feeling, and from this duality there arises a problem. In that development of duality lies the cause of the problem. All ideals must ever be of the future. A mind that is divided, a mind that is striving after the future, cannot understand the present, and thus it develops a duality in action. Now, having created a problem, having created a conflict, because we cannot meet the present wholly, we try to find a solution for the problem. That is what we are constantly doing, isn't it? All of us have problems. Most of you are here because you think that I am going to help you solve your many problems, and you will be disappointed when I say that I cannot solve them. What I am going to do is try to show the cause of the problem, and then you, by understanding, can solve your problem for yourself. The problem exists as long as mind and heart are divided in action. That is, when we have established an idea in the future and are trying to be consistent, we are incapable of meeting the present fully; so, having created a problem, we try to seek a solution, which is but an escape. We imagine that we find solutions for various problems, but in finding solutions we have not really solved, we have not understood the cause of the problem. The moment we have solved one problem, another arises, and so we continue to the end of our lives seeking solutions to an endless series of problems. In this talk I want to explain the cause of the problem and the manner of dissolving it. As I have said, a problem exists as long as there is reaction -either a reaction to external standards, or a reaction to an inner standard, as when you say, "I must be true to this idea", or, "I must be true to this belief." Most educated, thoughtful people have discarded external standards, but they have developed inner standards. We discard an external standard because we have created an inner standard to which we are trying to be true, a standard which is continually guiding us and shaping us, a standard which creates duality in our action. As long as there are standards to which we are trying to be true, there will be problems, and hence the continual search for the solution of these problems. These inner standards exist as long as we do not meet the experiences and incidents of life wholly. As long as there is a guiding principle in our lives to which we are trying to be true, there must be duality in action, and therefore a problem. That duality will exist as long as there is conflict, and conflict exists wherever there is the limitation of self-consciousness, the "I". Though we have discarded external standards and have found for ourselves an inner principle, an inner law, to which we are trying to be true, there is still distinction in action, and hence an incompleteness in understanding. It is only when we understand, when we no longer search for understanding, that there is an effortless existence. So when I say, do not seek a solution, do not search for an end, I do not mean that you must turn to the opposite and become stagnant. My point is: Why do you seek a solution? Why are you incapable of meeting life openly, nakedly, simply, fully? Be- cause you are continually trying to be consistent. Therefore there is the exertion of will to conquer the immediate obstacle; there is conflict, and you do not try to find out the cause of the conflict. To me this continual search for truth, for understanding, for the solution of various problems, is not progress; this going from one problem to another is not evolution. Only when the mind and heart meet every idea, every incident, every experience, every expression of life, fully - only then can there be a continual becoming which is not stagnation. But the search for a solution, which we mistakenly call progress, is merely stagnation. Question: Do you mean to say that sooner or later all human beings will inevitably, in the course of existence, attain perfection, complete liberation from all that binds them? If so, why make any effort now? Krishnamurti: You know, I am not talking of the mass. To me there is not this division of the individual and the mass. I am talking to you as individuals. After all, the mass is but yourself multiplied. If you understand, you will give understanding. Understanding is like the light that dispels darkness. But if you do not understand, if you apply what I am saying only to the other man, the man outside, then you are but increasing darkness. So you want to know if you - not this imaginary man from the mass - if you will inevitably attain perfection. If that is so, you think, why make any effort in the present? I quite agree. If you think that you will inevitably realize the ecstasy of living, why trouble yourself? But nevertheless, because you are caught up in conflict, you are making an effort. I will put it differently: It is like saying to a hungry man that he will inevitably find some means of satisfying his hunger. How does it help him today if you tell him that he will be fed ten days hence? By that time he may be dead. So the question is not, "Is there inevitably perfection for me as an individual?" Rather, it is, "Why do I make this ceaseless effort?" To me, a man who is pursuing virtue is no longer virtuous. Yet that is what we are doing all the time. We are trying to be perfect; we are engaged in the incessant effort to be something. But if we make an effort because we are really suffering and because we want to be free from that suffering, then our chief concern is not perfection - we do not know what perfection is. We can only imagine it or read of it in books. Therefore, it must be illusory. Our chief concern is not with perfection, but with the question, "What creates this conflict that demands effort?" Comment from audience: Is not the spiritual man always perfect? Krishnamurti: A spiritual man may be, but we are not. That is, we have a sense of duality; we think of a higher man who is perfect and a lower man who is not, and we think of the higher man as trying to dominate the lower. Please try to follow this for a moment, whether you agree or disagree. You can know only the present conflict; you cannot know perfection so long as you are in conflict. So you need not be concerned with what perfection is, with the question of whether or not man is perfect, whether or not spirit is perfect, whether or not soul is perfect; you are not concerned with that. But surely you are concerned with what causes suffering. You know, a man confined in a prison is concerned with the destruction of that prison in order to be free; he is not concerned with freedom as an abstract idea. Now you are not concerned with what causes suffering, but you are concerned with the way of escaping from that suffering into perfection. So you want to know if you as an individual will ever realize perfection. I say that that is not the point. The point is, are you conscious in the present, are you fully aware in the present, of the limitations that create suffering. If you know the cause of suffering, from that you will know what perfection is. But you cannot know perfection before you are free of suffering. That is the cause of limitation. So do not question whether you will ever attain perfection, whether the soul is perfect, or whether the God in you is perfect, but become fully conscious of the limitations of your mind and heart in action. And these limitations you can discover only when you act, when you are not trying to imitate an idea or a guiding principle. You know, our minds are clogged with national and international standards, with standards that we have received from our parents and standards that we have evolved for ourselves. Guided by these standards we meet life. Therefore we are incapable of understanding. We can understand only when our minds are really fresh, simple, eager - not when they are burdened with ideas. Now each of us has many limitations, limitations of which we are wholly unconscious. The very question, "Is there perfection?" implies the consciousness of limitation. But you cannot discover these limitations by analyzing the past. The attempt to analyze oneself is destructive, but that is what you are trying to do. You say, "I know that I have many limitations; so I shall examine, I shall search and discover what my barriers and limitations are, and then I shall be free." When you do that you are but creating a new set of barriers, hindrances. To really discover the false standards and barriers of the past you must act with full awareness in the present, and in that activity you become aware of all the undiscovered hindrances. Experiment, and you will see. Begin to move with full awareness, with fully awakened consciousness in action, and you will see that you have innumerable barriers, beliefs, limitations, that prevent your acting freely. Therefore I say, self-analysis, analysis to discover the cause in the past, is false. You can never find out from that which is dead, but only from that which is living; and what is living is ever in the present and not in the past. What you must do is to meet the present with full awareness. Question: Who is the saviour of souls? Krishnamurti: If one thinks about it for a moment, one sees that that phrase, "the saviour of souls", has no meaning. What is it that we mean when we say a soul? An individual entity? Please correct me if I am wrong. What do we mean when we talk about a soul? We mean a limited consciousness. To me there is only that eternal life - contrasted with that limited consciousness which we call the "I". When that "I" exists, there is duality - the soul and the saviour of souls, the lower and the higher. You can understand that complete unity of life only with the cessation of self-consciousness or "I"-ness which creates the duality. To me immortality, that eternal becoming, has nothing in common with individuality. If man can free himself of his many limitations, then that freedom is eternal life; then mind and heart know eternity. But man cannot discover eternity so long as there is limitation. So the question, "Who is the saviour of souls?" ceases to have any meaning. It arises because we are looking at life from the point of view of self-limited consciousness which we call the "I". Therefore we say, "Who will save me? Who will save my soul?" No one can save you. You have held that belief for centuries, and yet you are suffering; there is still utter chaos in the world. You yourself must understand; nothing can give you wisdom except your own action in the present, which must create harmony out of conflict. Only from that can wisdom arise. Question: Some say that your teaching is only for the learned and the intellectual and not for the masses, who are doomed to constant struggle and suffering in daily life. Do you agree? Krishnamurti: What do you say? Why should I agree or disagree? I have something to say, and I say it. I am afraid that it is not the learned who will understand. Perhaps this little story will make clear what I mean: Once a merchant, who had some time on his hands, went to an Indian sage and said, "I have an hour to spare; please tell me what truth is." The sage replied, "You have read and studied many books. The first thing that you must do is to suppress all that you have learned." What I am saying is not only applicable to the leisured class, to the people who are supposed to be intelligent, well-educated - and I am purposely using the word "supposed" - but also to the so-called masses. Who are keeping the masses in daily toil? The intelligent, those who are supposedly learned; isn't that so? But if they were really intelligent they would find a way to free the masses from daily toil. What I am saying is applicable not only to the learned, but to all human beings. You have leisure to listen to me. Now you may say, "Well, I have understood a little, and therefore I am going to use that little understanding to change the world." But you will never change or alter the world that way. You may listen for a while and you may think that you have understood something, and say to yourself, "I am going to use this knowledge to reform the world." Such reform would be merely patchwork. But if you really understood what I am saying, you would create disturbance in the world - that emotional and mental disquiet from which there comes about the betterment of conditions. That is, if you understand you will try to create a state of discontent about you, and that you can do only if you change yourself; you cannot do this if you think that what I say is applicable to the learned only rather than to yourself. The man in the street is you. So the question is: Do you understand what I am saying? If you are intensely caught up in conflict, you want to find out the cause of that conflict. Now if you are fully aware of that conflict, you will find that your mind is trying to escape, trying to avoid facing that conflict completely. It is not a question of whether or not you understand me, but whether you as an individual are completely aware, alive to confront life wholly. What prevents you from meeting life wholly? That is the point. What prevents you from meeting life wholly is the continual action of memory, of a standard from which arises fear. Question: According to you, there appears to be no connection between intellect and intelligence. But you speak of awakened intelligence as one might of trained intellect. What is intelligence, and how can it be awakened? Krishnamurti: Training the intellect does not result in intelligence. Rather, intelligence comes into being when one acts in perfect harmony, both intellectually and emotionally. There is a vast distinction between intellect and intelligence. Intellect is merely thought functioning independently of emotion. When intellect, irrespective of emotion, is trained in any particular direction, one may have great intellect, but one does not have intelligence, because in intelligence there is the inherent capacity to feel as well as to reason; in intelligence both capacities are equally present, intensely and harmoniously. Now modern education is developing the intellect, offering more and more explanations of life, more and more theories, without the harmonious quality of affection. Therefore we have developed cunning minds to escape from conflict; hence we are satisfied with explanations that scientists and philosophers give us. The mind - the intellect - is satisfied with these innumerable explanations, but intelligence is not, for to understand there must be complete unity of mind and heart in action. That is, now you have a business mind, a religious mind, a sentimental mind. Your passions have nothing to do with business; your daily earning mind has nothing to do with your emotions. And you say that this condition cannot be altered. If you bring your emotions into business, you say, business cannot be well managed or be honest. So you divide your mind into compartments: in one compartment you keep your religious interest, in another your emotions, in a third your business interest which has nothing to do with your intellectual and emotional life. Your business mind treats life merely as a means of getting money in order to live. So this chaotic existence, this division of your life continues. If you really used your intelligence in business, that is, if your emotions and your thought were acting harmoniously, your business might fail. It probably would. And you will probably let it fail when you really feel the absurdity, the cruelty and the exploitation that is involved in this way of living. Until you really approach all of life with your intelligence, instead of merely with your intellect, no system in the world will save man from the ceaseless toil for bread. Question: You often talk of the necessity of understanding our experiences. Will you please explain what you mean by understanding an experience in the right way? Krishnamurti: To understand an experience fully you must come to it freshly each time it confronts you. To understand experience you must have an open, simple clarity of mind and heart. But we do not approach the experiences of life with that attitude. Memory prevents us from approaching experience openly, nakedly. Isn't that so? Memory prevents us from meeting experience wholly, and therefore it prevents us from understanding experience completely. Now what causes memory? To me, memory is but the sign of incomplete understanding. When you meet an experience wholly, when you live fully, that experience or that incident does not leave the scar of memory. Only when you live partially, when you do not meet experience wholly, there is memory; only in incompleteness is there memory. Isn't that so? Take, for instance, your being consistent to a principle. Why are you consistent? You are consistent because you cannot meet life openly, freely; therefore you say, "I must have a principle that will guide me." Hence the constant struggle to be consistent, and with that memory as a background you meet every incident of life. Thus there is incompleteness in your understanding because you approach experience with a mind that is already burdened. Only when you meet all things, whatever they are, with an unburdened mind, only then will you have true understanding. "But", you say, "what am I to do with all the memories that I have?" You cannot discard them. But what you can do is meet your next experience wholly; then you will see those past memories come into action, and then is the time to meet them and to dissolve them. So what gives right understanding is not the residue of many experiences. You cannot meet new experiences wholly when the remainder of past experiences is burdening your mind. Yet that is how you are continually meeting them. That is, your mind has learned to be careful, to be cunning, to act as a signal, to give a warning; therefore, you cannot meet any incident fully. To free your mind of memory, to free it from this burden of experience, you must meet life fully; in that action your past memories come into activity, and in the flame of awareness they are dissolved. Try it and you will see. As you go away from here you will meet friends; you will see the sunset, the long shadows. Be fully aware in these experiences, and you will find that all kinds of memories surge forward; in your acute awareness you will understand the falseness and the strength of these memories, and you will be able to dissolve them; You will then meet with full awareness every experience of life. FROGNERSETEREN, NORWAY 2ND PUBLIC TALK 8TH SEPTEMBER, 1933 Friends, Today I want to explain that there is a way of living naturally, spontaneously, without the constant friction of self-discipline, the constant battle of adjustment. But to understand what I am going to say, please consider it not only intellectually, but also emotionally. You must feel it; for you can bring about fulfillment of life only when your emotions as well as your thoughts are acting harmoniously. When you live completely in the harmony of your mind and heart, then your action is natural, spontaneous, effortless. Most minds are seeking security. We want to be sure. We set up in authority those who offer us that security, and we worship them as our authority because we ourselves are seeking a certainty to which the mind can cling, in which the mind can feel safe, secure. If you consider the matter, you will find that most of you come to listen to me because you are seeking certainty - certainty of knowledge, certainty of an end, certainty of truth, certainty of an idea - in order that you may act with that certainty, choose through that certainty. Your minds and hearts desire to act with the background of that certainty. Your choice and your actions do not awaken true discernment or true perception, because you are constantly engaged in the gathering in of knowledge, in the accumulation of experiences, in searching out various kinds of gain, in seeking authorities that give you security and comfort, in striving for the development of character. Through all these attempts at accumulation you hope to have the assurance of certainty; certainty that takes away all doubt and anxiety; certainty that gives you - at least you hope that it will give you - surety of choice. With the thought of certainty, you choose in the hope of gaining further understanding. Thus, in the search for certainty there is born fear of gain and fear of loss. So you make life into a school where you learn to be certain. Isn't that what your life is? A school where you learn, not to live, but how to be sure. To you life is a process of accumulation, not a matter of living. Now I differentiate between living and accumulation. A man who is really living has no sense of accumulation. But the man who is seeking certainty and security, who is seeking a shelter from which he can act - the shelter of character, of virtue - that man thinks of life as accumulation, and hence to him life becomes a process of learning, of gain, of struggle. Where there is the idea of accumulation and of gain, there must be a sense of time, and hence incompleteness in action. If we are constantly looking to a future gain, to a future from which we shall derive advantage, development, greater strength for acquisition, then our action in the present must be incomplete. If our minds and hearts are continually seeking gain, achievement, success, then our action, whatever it be, has no true significance; our eyes are fixed on the future, our minds are concerned only with the future. Hence, all action in the present creates incompleteness. From this incompleteness there arises conflict, which we hope to overcome through self-discipline. We make a distinction in our minds between the things that we wish to gain, which we call the essential, and the things that we do not wish to acquire, which we call the unessential. Thus, there is a constant battle, a constant struggle; conflict and suffering result from this distinction. I shall explain this point in another way, because unless you see and really understand it, you will not fully comprehend what I shall have to say later. We have made life into a school of continual learning. But to me life is not a school; it is not a process of gathering in. Life is to be lived naturally, fully, without this constant battle of conflicts, this distinction between the essential and the unessential. From this idea of life as a school, there arises the constant desire for achievement, success, and therefore the search for an end, the desire to find the ultimate truth, God, the final perfection which will give us - at least, we hope it will give us - certainty, and hence our attempts at the continual adjustment to certain social conditions, to ethical and moral demands, to the development of character and the cultivation of virtues. These standards and demands, if you really think about them, are but shelters from which we act, shelters developed through resistance. This is the life that most people are living - a life of constant search for gain, for accumulation, and therefore a life of incompleteness in action. The idea of gain, which divides action into past, present and future, is always in our minds; therefore there is never complete understanding in action itself. The mind is continually thinking of gain, and hence it finds no meaning in the action with which it is occupied. So this is the state in which you are living. Now to me that state is utterly false. Life is not a process of gathering in, a school in which you must learn, in which you must discipline yourself, in which there is constant resistance and struggle. Where there is this constant gathering in, this desire for accumulation, there must exist incompleteness which creates want; if you do not want, you do not gather. And where there is want there is no discernment, even though you may go through the process of choice. Now you say to me, "How am I to get rid of this want? How am I to free my mind from this process of gathering in? How am I to conquer these hindrances? You say that life is not a school In which to learn, but how am I to live naturally? Tell me the path on which I must walk, the method that I must practise every day to live fully." To me, this is not the way to look at the problem. The question is not how you are to live fully, but rather, what urges you to this constant accumulation; the question is not how you shall get rid of the idea of gathering, of accumulation, but rather, what creates in you this desire to accumulate. I hope you see the distinction. Now you look at the problem from the point of view of getting rid of something, of acquiring non-acquisition, which is essentially the same thing as desiring to acquire something, since all opposites are the same. So, what prevents you from living naturally, harmoniously? I say that it is this process of gathering, this searching for certainty. Then you want to know how to be free from the search for certainty. I say, do not approach the problem in this way. The futility of gain will have a meaning for you only when you are really in conflict, only when you are fully conscious of the disharmony of your actions. If you are not caught up in conflict, then continue in your present way; if you are absolutely unconscious of struggle and suffering, if you are unaware of your own disharmony, then go on living as you are. Then do not try to be spiritual, for you do not know what that signifies at all. The ecstasy of understanding comes only when there is great discontent, when all false values about you are destroyed. If you are not discontented, if you are not aware of intense disharmony in and about you, then what I tell you of the futility of accumulation can have no meaning to you. But if there is this divine revolt in you, then you will understand when I say that life is not a school in which to learn; life is not a process of constant accumulation, a process in which there is continual want which is blinding. Then that very revolt in which you are caught up, that very suffering, gives you understanding, because it awakens in you the flame of awareness. And when you are fully aware that want is blinding, then you will see its full significance, which dissipates want. Then you will have freedom from want, from gathering in. But if you are unconscious of such a struggle, of such a revolt, you can but continue your life as you are living it, in a half-awakened state. When people suffer, when they are caught up in conflict, that very suffering and conflict should keep them intensely aware; but most of them only ask how to get rid of want. When you understand the full significance of not desiring to gain, to accumulate, then there is no longer the struggle to get rid of something. To put it differently, why do you go through the process of self-discipline? You do it because of fear. Why are you afraid? Because you want surety, the surety that a social standard, a religious belief, or the idea of acquiring virtue gives you. So you set about disciplining yourself. That is, when the mind is enslaved by the idea of gain or conformity, there is self-discipline. That you are awakened to suffering is but the indication that mind is trying to free itself from all standards; but when you suffer you immediately try to quieten that suffering by drugging the mind with what you call comfort, security, certainty. So you continue this process of seeking certainty, which is but an opiate. But if you understand the illusion of certainty - and you can understand it only in the intensity of conflict from which alone all inquiry can truly begin -then want, which creates certainty, disappears. So the question is not how to get rid of want; it is rather this: Are you fully aware when there is suffering? Are you fully conscious of conflict, of the disharmonious life about you and within you? If you are, then in that flame of awareness there is true perception, without this constant battle of adjustment, of self-discipline. However, seeing the falsity of self-discipline does not mean that one can indulge in rash, impetuous action. On the contrary, then action is born out of completeness. Question: Can there be happiness when there is no longer any "I" consciousness? Is one able to feel anything at all if the "I" consciousness is extinguished? Krishnamurti: First of all, what does one mean by the "I" consciousness? When are you aware of this "I"? When are you conscious of yourself? You are conscious of yourself as "I", as an entity, when you are in pain, when you experience discomfiture, conflict, struggle. You say, "If that 'I' does not exist, what is there?" I say you will find out only when your mind is free of that "I", so do not inquire now. When your mind and heart are harmonious, when they are no longer caught up in conflict, then you will know. Then you will not ask what it is that feels, that thinks. As long as this "I" consciousness exists there must be the conflict of choice, from which arises the sensation of happiness and unhappiness. That is, this conflict gives you the sense of limited consciousness, the "I", with which the mind becomes identified. I say that you will find out that life which is not identified with the "you" or the "me", that life which is eternal, infinite, only when this limited consciousness dissolves itself. You do not dissolve that limited consciousness; it dissolves itself. Question: The other day you spoke of memory as a hindrance to true understanding. I have recently had the misfortune of losing my brother. Should I try to forget that loss? Krishnamurti: I explained the other day what I mean by memory. I shall try to explain it again. After you have seen a beautiful sunset, you return to your home or office and begin again to live in that sunset, as your home or office is not as you would have it, it is not beautiful; so to escape from that ugliness you return in memory to that sunset. Thus you create in your mind a distinction between your home, which does not give you joy, and the thing that gives you great delight, the sunset. So, when you are confronted by circumstances which are not pleasant, you turn to the memory of that which is joyous. But if, instead of turning to a dead memory, you would try to alter the circumstances that are unpleasant, then you would be living intensely in the present and not in the dead past. So when one loses someone whom one loves greatly, why is there this constant looking back, this constant holding on to that which gave us pleasure, this longing to have that person back again? This is what everyone goes through when he experiences such a loss. He escapes from the sorrow of that loss by turning to the remembrance of the person who is gone, by living in a future, or by belief in the hereafter - which is also a kind of memory. It is because our minds are perverted through escape, because they are incapable of meeting suffering openly, freshly, that we have to revert to memory, and thus the past encroaches upon the present. So the question is not whether you should or should not remember your brother or your husband, your wife or your children; rather, it is a matter of living completely, wholly, in the present, though that does not imply that you are indifferent to those who are about you. When you live completely, wholly, there is in that intensity, the flame of living, which is not the mere imprint of an incident. How is one to live completely in the present, so that mind is not perverted with past memories and future longings - which are also memory? Again, the question is not how you should live completely, but what prevents you from living completely. For when you ask how, you are looking for a method, a means, and to me, a method destroys understanding. If you know what prevents you from living completely, then out of yourself, out of your own awareness and understanding, you will free yourself from that hindrance. What prevents you from freeing yourself is your search for certainty, your continual longing for gain, for accumulation, for achievement. But do not ask, "How am I to conquer these hindrances?" for all conquering is but a process of further gain, further accumulation. If this loss is really creating suffering in you, if it is really giving you intense - not superficial - sorrow, then you will not ask how; then you will see immediately the futility of looking back or forward for consolation. When most people say that they suffer, their suffering is but superficial. They suffer, but at the same time they want other things: they want comfort, they are afraid, they search out ways and means of escape. Superficial sorrow is always accompanied by the desire for comfort. Superficial suffering is like shallow ploughing of the soil; it achieves nothing. Only when you till the soil deeply, to the full depth of the ploughshare, is there richness. In the state of complete suffering there is complete understanding, in which hindrances as memories both of the present and of the future cease to exist. Then you are living in the eternal present. You know, to understand a thought or an idea does not mean merely to agree with it intellectually. There are various kinds of memories: there is the memory that forces itself upon you in the present, the memory to which you turn actively, and the memory of looking forward to the future. All these prevent your living completely. But do not begin to analyze your memories. Do not ask, "Which memory is preventing my complete living?" When you question in that way, you do not act; you merely examine memory intellectually, and such an examination has no value because it deals with a dead thing. From a dead thing there is no understanding. But if you are truly aware in the present, in the moment of action, then all these memories come into activity. Then you need not go through the process of analyzing them. Question: Do you think it is right to bring up children with religious training? Krishnamurti: I shall answer this question indirectly, for when you understand what I am going to say, you can answer it specifically for yourselves. You know, we are influenced not only by external conditions, but also by an inner condition which we develop. In bringing up a child, parents subject him to many influences and limiting circumstances, one of which is religious training. Now, if they let the child grow up without such hindering, limiting influences, either from within or from without, then the child will begin to question as he grows older, and he will intelligently find out for himself. Then, if he wants religion, he will have it, whether you prohibit or encourage the religious attitude. In other words, if his mind and heart are not influenced, not hindered, either by external or by inner standards, then he will truly discover what is true. This requires great perception, great understanding. Now parents want to influence the child one way or another. If you are very religious, you want to influence the child toward religion; if you are not, you try to turn him away from religion. Help the child to be intelligent, then he will find out for himself the true significance of life. Question: You spoke of harmony of mind and heart in action. What is this action? Does this action imply physical movement, or can action take place when one is quite still and alone? Krishnamurti: Does not action imply thought? Is not action thought itself? You cannot act without thinking. I know that most people do, but their action is not intelligent, not harmonious. Thought is action, which is also movement. Again, we think apart from our feeling, thus setting up another entity separate from our action. So we divide our lives into three distinct parts, thinking, feeling, acting. Therefore you ask, "Is action purely physical? Is action purely mental or emotional?" To me the three are one: to think, to feel, to act, there is no distinction. Therefore you may be alone and quiet for a while, or you may be working, moving, acting: both states can be action. When you understand this, you will not make a separation between thinking, feeling and acting. To most people, thinking is but a reaction. If it is merely a reaction, it is no longer thinking, for then it is uncreative. Most people who say that they think are but blindly following their reactions; they have certain standards, certain ideas, according to which they act. These they have memorized, and when they say that they think, they are but following these memories. Such imitation is not thinking; it is but a reaction, a reflection. True thinking exists only when you discover the true significance of these standards, these preconceptions, these securities. To put it differently, what is mind? Mind is speech, thought, consideration, understanding; it is all these, and it is also feeling. You cannot separate feeling from thinking; the mind and heart are in themselves complete. But because we have created innumerable escapes through conflict, there arises the idea of thought as apart from feeling, as apart from action, and hence our life is broken up, incomplete. Question: Among your listeners are people old and feeble in mind and body. Also, there may be those who are addicts to drugs, drink or smoking. What can they do to change themselves, when they find that they cannot change even when they long to? Krishnamurti: Remain as you are. If you really long to change, you will change. You see, that is just it: intellectually you want to change, but emotionally you are still enticed by the pleasure of smoking or the comfort of a drug. So you ask, "What am I to do? I want to give this up, but at the same time I don't want to give it up. Please tell me how I can do both." That sounds amusing, but that is really what you are asking. Now if you approach the problem wholly, not with the idea of wanting or non-wanting, giving up or not giving up, you will find out whether or not you really want to smoke. If you find that you do want to, then smoke. In that way you will find out the worth of that habit without constantly calling it futile and yet continuing it. If you approach the act completely, wholly, then you will not say, "Shall I give up smoking or not?" But now you want to smoke because it gives you a pleasant sensation, and at the same time you don't want to because mentally you see the absurdity of it. So you begin to discipline yourself, saying, "I must sacrifice myself; I must give this up." Question: Do you not agree that man shall gain the kingdom of heaven through a life, like that of Jesus, wholly dedicated to service? Krishnamurti: I hope you will not be shocked when I say that man will not gain the kingdom of heaven in this way. Now see what you are saying: "Through service I shall obtain something that I want." Your statement implies that you do not serve completely; you are looking for a reward through service. You say, "Through righteous behaviour I shall know God." That is, you are really interested, not in righteous behaviour but in knowing God, thus divorcing righteousness from God. But neither through service, nor love, nor worship, nor prayer, but only in the very action of these, is there truth, God. Do you understand? When you ask, "Shall I gain the kingdom of heaven through service?" your service has no meaning because you are primarily interested in the kingdom of heaven; you are interested in getting something in return; it is a kind of barter, as much of your life is. So when you say, "Through righteousness, through love, I shall attain, I shall realize", you are interested in the realization, which is but an escape, a form of imitation. Therefore your love or your righteous act has no meaning. If you are kind to me because I can give you something in return, what significance has your kindness? That is the whole process of our life. We are afraid to live. Only when someone dangles a reward before our eyes do we act, and then we act not for the sake of action itself, but in order to obtain that reward. In other words, we act for what we can get out of action. It is the same in your prayers. That is, because for us action has no significance in itself, because we think that we need encouragement in order to act rightly, we have placed before us a reward, something we desire, and we hope that enticement, that toy, will give us satisfaction. But when we act with that hope of reward, then action itself has no significance. That is why I say that you are caught up in this process of reward and gain, this hindrance born of fear, which results in conflict. When you see this, when you become aware of this, then you will understand that life, behaviour, service, everything, has significance in itself; then you do not go through life with the purpose of getting something else, because you know that action itself has intrinsic value. Then you are not merely a reformer; you are a human being; you know that life which is pliable and therefore eternal. FROGNERSETEREN, NORWAY 3RD PUBLIC TALK 9TH SEPTEMBER, 1933 This morning I am going to answer questions only. Question: Do you believe in the efficacy of prayer, and the value of prayer that is directed out of whole-hearted sympathy to the misfortune and suffering of others? Cannot prayer, in the right sense, ever bring about the freedom of which you speak? Krishnamurti: When we use the word "prayer", I think we use it with a very definite meaning. As it is generally understood, it means praying to someone outside of ourselves to give us strength, understanding, and so on. That is, we are looking for help from an external source. When you are suffering and you look to another to relieve you from that suffering, you are but creating in your mind, and therefore in your action, incompleteness, duality. So from my point of view, prayer, as it is commonly understood, has no value. You may forget your suffering in your prayer, but you have not understood the cause of suffering. You have merely lost yourself in prayer; you have suggested to yourself certain modes of living. So prayer in the ordinary sense of the word, that is, looking to another for relief from suffering, has to me no value. But if I may use the word with a different meaning, I think there is prayer which is not a looking to another for help; it is a continued alertness of mind, an awakened state in which you understand for yourself. In that state of prayer you know the cause of suffering, the cause of confusion, the cause of a problem. Most of us, when we have a problem, immediately seek a solution. When we find a solution we think that we have solved the problem, but we have not. We have only escaped from it. Prayer, in the conventional meaning of the word, is thus an escape. But real prayer, I feel, is action with awakened interest in life. Comment from the audience: Do you think that the prayer of a mother for her children may be good for them? Krishnamurti: What do you think? Comment: I hope it will be good for them. Krishnamurti: What do you mean by its being good for them? Is there not something else one can do to help? What can one do for another when that person is suffering? One can give sympathy and affection. Suppose that I am suffering because I love someone who does not love me in return, and that I happen to be your son. Your prayer will not relieve my suffering. What happens? You discuss the matter with me, but the pain still remains because I want that love. What do you want to do when you see someone suffer whom you love? You want to help; you want to take away the suffering from him. But you cannot, because that suffering is his prison. It is the prison that he himself has created, a prison that you cannot take away - but that does not mean that your attitude should be one of indifference. Now when one whom you love is suffering, and you can do nothing for him, you turn to prayer, hoping that some miracle will happen to alleviate his sorrow; but if you once understand that the suffering is caused by the ignorance created by that person himself, then you will realize that you can give him sympathy and affection, but you cannot remove his suffering. Comment: But we want to relieve our own suffering. Krishnamurti: That is different. Question: You say, "Meet all experiences as they come." What about such terrible misfortunes as being condemned to lifelong imprisonment, or being burnt alive for holding certain political or religious opinions - misfortunes that have actually been the lot of human beings? Would you ask such people to submit themselves to their misfortunes and not try to overcome them? Krishnamurti: Suppose that I commit murder; then society puts me in prison because I have done something that is inherently wrong. Or suppose that some force from the outside impels me to do something of which you disapprove, and you in return do me harm. What am I to do? Suppose that some years hence you, in this country, decide that you do not want me here because of what I say. What can I do? I cannot come here. Now, isn't it after all the mind that gives value to these terms "fortune" and "misfortune"? If I hold a certain belief and am imprisoned for holding it, I do not consider that imprisonment as suffering, because the belief is really mine. Suppose I believe in something - something not external, something that is real to me; if I am punished for holding that belief, I will not consider that punishment as suffering, for the belief I am being punished for is to me not merely a belief, but a reality. Question: You have spoken against the spirit of acquisition, both spiritual and material. Does not contemplation help us to understand and meet life completely? Krishnamurti: Is not contemplation the very essence of action? In India there are people who withdraw from life, from daily contact with others, and retire into the woods to contemplate, to find God. Do you call that contemplation? I wouldn't call it contemplation - it is but an escape from life. Out of meeting life fully comes contemplation. Contemplation is action. Thought, when it is complete, is action. The man who, in order to think, withdraws from the daily contact with life, makes his life unnatural; for him life is confusion. Our very seeking for God or truth is an escape. We seek because we find that the life we live is ugly, monstrous. You say, "If I can understand who created this thing, I shall understand the creation; I shall withdraw from this and go to that." But if, instead of withdrawing, you tried to understand the cause of confusion in the very confusion itself, then your finding out, your discovery, would destroy the thing that is false. Unless you have experienced truth, you cannot know what it is. Not pages of description nor the clever wit of man can tell you what it is. You can only know truth for yourself, and you can know it only when you have freed your mind from illusion. If the mind is not free, you but create opposites, and these opposites become your ideals, as God or truth. If I am caught in suffering, in pain, I create the idea of peace, the idea of tranquillity. I create the idea of truth according to my like and dislike, and therefore that idea cannot be true. Yet that is what we are constantly doing. When we contemplate as we generally do, we are merely trying to escape from confusion. "But", you say, "when I am caught in confusion I cannot understand; I must escape from it in order to understand." That is, you are trying to learn from suffering. But as I see it, you can learn nothing from suffering, though you should not withdraw from it. The function of suffering is to give you a tremendous shock; the awakening caused by that shock gives you pain, and then you say, "Let me find out what I can learn from it." Now if, instead of saying this, you keep awake during the shock of suffering, then that experience will yield understanding. Understanding lies in suffering itself, not away from it; suffering itself gives freedom from suffering. Comment: You said the other day that self-analysis is destructive, but I think that analyzing the cause of suffering gives one wisdom. Krishnamurti: Wisdom is not in analysis. You suffer, and by analysis you try to find the cause; that is, you are analyzing a dead event, the cause that is already in the past. What you must do is find the cause of suffering in the very moment of suffering. By analyzing suffering you do not find the cause; you analyze only the cause of a particular act. Then you say, "I have understood the cause of that suffering." But in reality you have only learned to avoid the suffering; you have not freed your mind from it. This process of accumulation, of learning through the analysis of a particular act, does not give wisdom. Wisdom arises only when the "I" consciousness, which is the creator, the cause of suffering, is dissolved. Am I making this difficult? What happens when we suffer? We want immediate relief, and so we take anything that is offered. We examine it superficially for the moment, and we say that we have learned. When that drug proves insufficient in providing relief, we take another, but the suffering continues. Isn't that so? But when you suffer completely, wholly, not superficially, then something happens; when all the avenues of escape which the mind has invented have been understood and blocked, there remains only suffering, and then you will understand it. There is no cessation through an intellectual drug. As I said the other day, life to me is not a process of learning; yet we treat life as though it were merely a school for learning things, merely a suffering in order to learn; as though everything served only as a means to something else. You say that if you can learn to contemplate you will meet life fully, whereas I say that if your action is complete, that is, if your mind and heart are in full harmony, then that very action is contemplation, effortlessness. Question: Can a minister who has freed himself from the doctrines still be a minister in the Lutheran Church? Krishnamurti: I think that he will not remain in the ministry. What do you mean by a minister? One who gives you what you want spiritually, that is, comfort? Surely the question has been already answered. You are looking to mediators to help you. You are making me also into a minister - a minister without doctrines, but still you think of me as a minister. But I am afraid I am not. I can give you nothing. One of the conventionally accepted doctrines is that others can lead you to truth, that through the suffering of another you can understand it; but I say that no one can lead you to truth. Question: Suppose that the minister is married and dependent upon his position for his living? Krishnamurti: You say that if the minister gave up his work, his wife and children would suffer, which is real suffering for him, as well as for his wife and children. Should he give it up? Suppose that I am a minister; that I no longer believe in churches, and feel the necessity of freeing myself from them. Do I consider my wife and children? No. That decision needs great understanding. Question: You have said that memory represents an experience that has not been understood. Does that mean that our experiences are of no value to us? And why does a fully understood experience leave no memory? Krishnamurti: I am afraid that most of the experiences that one has are of no value. You are repeating the same thing over and over again, whereas to me an experience really understood frees the mind from all search for experience. You confront an incident from which you hope, to learn, from which you hope to profit, and you multiply experiences, one after another. With that idea of sensation, of learning, of gaining, you meet various experiences; you meet them with a prejudiced mind. Thus you are using the experiences that confront you merely as a means to get something else - to get rich emotionally or mentally, to enjoy. You think that these experiences have no inherent value; you look to them only to get something else through them. Where there is want there must be memory, which creates time. And most minds, being caught in time, meet life with that limitation. That is, bound by this limitation they try to understand something that has no limit. Therefore there is conflict. In other words, the experiences from which we try to learn are born of reaction. There is no such thing as learning from experience or through experience. The questioner wants to know why a fully understood experience leaves no memory. We are lonely, empty; being conscious of that emptiness, that loneliness, we turn to experience to fill it. We say, "I shall learn from experience; let me fill my mind with experience which destroys loneliness." Experience does destroy loneliness, but it makes us very superficial. That is what we are always doing; but if we realize that this very want creates loneliness, then loneliness will disappear. Question: I feel the entanglement and confusion of attachment in the thought and feeling that make up the richness and variety of my life. How can I learn to be detached from experience from which I seem unable to escape? Krishnamurti: Why do you want to be detached? Because attachment gives you pain. Possession is a conflict in which there is jealousy, continual watchfulness, neverending struggle. Attachment gives you pain; therefore you say, "Let me be detached." That is, your detachment is merely a running away from pain. You say, "Let me find a way, a means, by which I shall not suffer." In attachment there is conflict which awakens you, stirs you, and in order not to be awakened you long for detachment. You go through life wanting the exact opposite of that which gives you pain, and that very wanting is but an escape from the thing in which you are caught. It is not a matter of learning detachment, but of keeping awake. Attachment gives you pain. But if, instead of trying to escape, you try to keep awake, you will meet openly and understand every experience. If you are attached and are satisfied with your state, you experience no disturbance. Only in time of pain and suffering do you want the opposite, which you think will give you relief. If you are attached to a person, and there is peace and quiet, everything moves smoothly for a while; then something happens that gives you pain. Take, for example, a husband and wife; in their possession, in their love, there is complete blindness, happiness. Life goes smoothly until something happens - he may leave, or she may fall in love with another. Then there is pain. In such a situation you say to yourself, "I must learn detachment." But if you love again you repeat the same thing. Again, when you experience pain in attachment, you desire the opposite. That is human nature; that is what every human being wants. So it is not a matter of acquiring detachment. It is a matter of seeing the foolishness of attachment when you suffer in attachment; then you do not go to the opposite. Now, what happens? You want to be attached and at the same time you want to be detached, and in this conflict there is pain. If in pain itself you realize the finality of pain, if you do not try to escape to the opposite, then that very pain will free you from both attachment and detachment. OSLO, NORWAY TALK IN THE COLOSSEUM 10TH SEPTEMBER, 1933 Friends, You know, we go from belief to belief, from experience to experience, hoping and searching for some permanent understanding that will give us enlightenment, wisdom; and thereby we also hope to discover for ourselves what truth is. So we begin to search for truth, God, or life. Now to me, this very search for truth is a denial of it, for that everlasting life, that truth, can be understood only when mind and heart are free from all ideas, from all doctrines, from all beliefs, and when we understand the true function of individuality. I say that there is an everlasting life of which I know and of which I speak, but one cannot understand it by searching for it. What is our search now? It is but an escape from our daily sufferings, confusions, conflicts; an escape from our confusion of love in which there is a constant battle of possession, of jealousy; an escape from the continual striving for existence. So we say to ourselves, "If I can understand what truth is, if I can find out what God is, then I will understand and conquer the confusion, the struggle, the pain, the innumerable battles of choice. Let me therefore find out what is, and in understanding that, I shall understand the everyday life in which there is so much suffering." To me, the understanding of truth lies not in the search for it; it lies in understanding the right significance of all things; the whole significance of truth is in the transient, and not apart from it. So our search for truth is but an escape. Our search and our inquiry, our study of philosophies, our imitation of ethical systems and our continual groping for that reality which I say exists, are but ways of escape. To understand that reality is to understand the cause of our various conflicts, struggles, sufferings; but through the desire to escape from these conflicts, we have built up many subtle ways to avoid conflict, and in these we take shelter. Thus, truth becomes but another shelter in which mind and heart can take comfort. Now that very idea of comfort is a hindrance; that very conception from which we derive consolation is but a flight from the conflict of everyday life. For centuries we have been building avenues of escape, such as authority; it may be the authority of social standards, or of public opinion, or of religious doctrines; may be an external standard, such as the more educated people today are discarding, or an inner standard, such as one creates after discarding the external. But a mind that has regard for authority, that is, a mind that accepts without question, a mind that imitates, cannot understand the freedom of life. So, though we have built up through past centuries this authority that gives us a momentary pacification, a momentary consolation, a transient comfort, that authority has but become our escape. Likewise, imitation - the imitation of standards, the imitation of a system or a method of living; to me, this also is a hindrance. And our searching for certainty is but a way of escape; we want to be sure, our minds desire to cling to certainties, so that from that background we can look at life, from that shelter we can go forth. Now to me, all these are hindrances which prevent that natural, spontaneous action which alone frees the mind and heart so that man can live harmoniously, so that man can understand the true function of individuality. When we suffer we seek certainty, we want to turn to values that will give us comfort - and that comfort is but memory. Then again we come into contact with life, and again we experience suffering. So we think that we learn from suffering, that we gather understanding from suffering. A belief or an idea or a theory gives us momentary satisfaction when we suffer, and from this satisfaction we think that we have understood or gathered understanding from that experience. Thus we go on from suffering to suffering, learning how to adjust ourselves to outward conditions. That is, we do not understand the real movement of suffering; we merely become more and more cunning and subtle in our dealings with suffering. This is the superficiality of modern civilization and culture: many theories, many explanations of our suffering are put forward, and in these explanations and theories we take shelter, going from experience to experience, suffering, learning, and hoping through all this to find wisdom. I say that wisdom is not to be bought. Wisdom does not lie in the process of accumulation; it is not the result of innumerable experiences; it is not acquired through learning. Wisdom, life itself, can be understood only when the mind is free from this sense of search, this search for comfort, this imitation, for these are but the ways of escape that we have been cultivating for centuries. If you examine our structure of thought, of emotion, our whole civilization, you will see that it is but a process of escape, a process of conformity. When we suffer, our immediate reaction is a desire for relief, for consolation, and we accept the theories offered without finding out the cause of our suffering; that is, we are momentarily satisfied, we live superficially, and so we do not find out profoundly for ourselves what the cause of our suffering is. Let me put this in another way: Though we have experiences, these experiences do not keep us awake, but rather put us to sleep, because our minds and hearts have been trained for generations merely to imitate, to conform. After all, when there is any kind of suffering, we should not look to that suffering to teach us, but rather to keep us fully awake, so that we can meet life with complete awareness - not in that semi-conscious state in which almost every human being meets life. I shall explain this again, so as to make myself clear; for if you understand this you will naturally understand what I am going to say. I say that life is not a process of learning, accumulating. Life is not a school in which you pass examinations in learning, in learning from experiences, learning from actions, from suffering. Life is meant to be lived, not to be learnt from. If you regard life as something from which you have to learn, you act but superficially. That is, if action, if daily living, is but a means towards a reward, towards an end, then action itself has no value. Now when you have experiences, you say that you must learn from them, understand them. Therefore experience itself has no value to you because you are looking for a gain through suffering, through action, through experience. But to understand action completely, which to me is the ecstasy of life, the ecstasy which is immortality, mind must be free of the idea of acquisition, the idea of learning through experience, through action. Now both mind and heart are caught in this idea of acquisition, this idea that life is a means to something else. But when you see the falseness of that conception, you will no longer treat suffering as a means to an end. Then you no longer take comfort in ideas, in beliefs; you no longer take shelter in standards of thought or feeling; you then begin to be fully aware, not for the purpose of seeing what you can gain from it, but in order intelligently to release action from imitation and from the search for a reward. That is, you see the significance of action, and not merely what profit it will bring you. Now most minds are caught in the idea of acquisition, the search for a reward. Suffering comes to awaken them to this illusion, to awaken them from their state of semi-consciousness, but not to teach them a lesson. When mind and heart act with a sense of duality, thus creating opposites, there must be conflict and suffering. What happens when you suffer? You seek immediate relief, whether it be in drink or in amusement or in the idea of God. To me, these are all the same, for they are merely avenues of escape that the subtle mind has devised, making of suffering a superficial thing. Therefore I say, become fully aware of your actions, whatever they may be; then you will perceive how your mind is continually finding an escape; you will see that you are not confronting experiences completely, with all your being, but only partially, semi-consciously. We have built up many hindrances that have become shelters in which we take refuge in the moment of pain. These shelters are but escapes and therefore in themselves of no inherent worth. But to find out these shelters, these false values that we have created about us, which hold and imprison us, one must not try to analyze the actions which spring from these shelters. To me, analysis is the very negation of complete action. One cannot understand a hindrance by examining it. There is no understanding in the analysis of a past experience, for it is dead; there is understanding only in the living action of the present. Therefore self-analysis is destructive. But to discover the innumerable barriers that surround you is to become fully conscious, to become fully aware in whatever action is taking place about you, or in whatever you are doing. Then all the past hindrances, such as tradition, imitation, fear, defensive reactions, the desire for security, for certainty - all these come into activity; and only in that which is active is there understanding. In this flame of awareness, mind and heart free themselves from all hindrances, all false values; then there is liberation in action, and that liberation is the freedom of life which is immortality. Question: Is it only from sorrow and suffering that one awakens to the reality of life? Krishnamurti: Suffering is the thing with which we are most familiar, with which we are constantly living. We know love and its joy, but in their wake there follow many conflicts. Whatever gives us the greatest shock which we call suffering, will keep us awake to meet life fully, will help us to discard the many illusions which we have created about us. It is not only suffering or conflict that keeps us awake, but anything that gives us a shock, that makes us question all the false standards and values which we have created about us in our search for security. When you suffer greatly, you become wholly aware, and in that intensity of awareness you discover true values. This liberates the mind from creating further illusions. Question: Why am I afraid of death? And what is beyond death? Krishnamurti: I think that one is afraid of death because one feels that one has not lived. If you are an artist, you may be afraid that death will take you away before you have finished your work; you are afraid because you have not fulfilled. Or if you are a man in ordinary life, without special capacities, you are afraid because you also have not fulfilled. You say, "If I am cut off from my fulfillment, what is there? As I do not understand this confusion, this toil, this incessant choice and conflict, is there further opportunity for me?" You have a fear of death when you have not fulfilled in action; that is, you are afraid of death when you do not meet life wholly, completely, with a fullness of mind and heart. Therefore, the question is not why you are afraid of death, but rather, what prevents you from meeting life fully. Everything must die, must wear out. But if you have the understanding that enables you to meet life fully, then in that there is eternal life, immortality, neither beginning nor end, and there is no fear of death. Again, the question is not how to free the mind from the fear of death, but how to meet life fully, how to meet life so that there shall be fulfillment. To meet life fully, one must be free of all defensive values. But our minds and hearts are suffocated with such values, which make our action incomplete, and hence there is fear of death. To find true value, to be free of this continual fear of death, and of the problem of the hereafter, you must know the true function of the individual, both in the creative as well as in the collective. Now as to the second part of the question: What is beyond death? Is there a hereafter? Do you know why a person usually asks such questions, why he wants to know what is on the other side? He asks because he does not know how to live in the present; he is more dead than alive. He says, "Let me find out what comes after death", because he has not the capacity to understand this eternal present. To me, the present is eternity; eternity lies in the present, not in the future. But to such a questioner life has been a whole series of experiences without fulfillment, without understanding, without wisdom. Therefore to him the hereafter is more enticing than the present, and hence the innumerable questions concerning what lies beyond. The man who inquires into the hereafter is already dead. If you live in the eternal present, the hereafter does not exist; then life is not divided into the past, present, and future. Then there is only completeness, and in that there is the ecstasy of life. Question: Do you think that communication with the spirits of the dead is a help to the understanding of life in its totality? Krishnamurti: Why should you think the dead more helpful than the living? Because the dead cannot contradict you, cannot oppose you, whereas the living can. In communication with the dead you can be fanciful; therefore you look to the dead rather than to the living to give you help. To me, the question is not whether there is a life beyond what we call death; it is not whether we can communicate with the spirits of the dead; to me, all that is irrelevant. Some people say that one can communicate with the spirits of the dead; others, that one cannot. To me, the discussion seems of very little value; for to understand life with its swift wanderings, with its wisdom, you cannot look to another to free you from the illusions that you have created. Neither the dead nor the living can free you from your illusions. Only in the awakened interest in life, in the constant alertness of mind and heart, is there harmonious living, is there fulfillment, the richness of life. Question: What is your opinion regarding the problem of sex and of asceticism in the light of the present social crisis? Krishnamurti: Let us not look at this problem, if I may suggest, from the point of view of the present condition, because conditions are constantly changing. Let us rather consider the problem itself; for if you understand the problem, then the present crisis can also be understood. The problem of sex, which seems to trouble so many people, has arisen because we have lost the flame of creativeness, that harmonious living. We have but become imitative machines; we have closed the doors to creative thought and emotion; we are constantly conforming; we are bound by authority, by public opinion, by fear, and thus we are confronted by this problem of sex. But if the mind and heart free themselves from the sense of imitation, from false values, from the exaggeration of the intellect, and so release their own creative function, then the problem does not exist. It has become great because we like to feel secure, because we think that happiness lies in the sense of possession. But if we understand the true significance of possession, and its illusory nature, then the mind and heart are freed from both possession and non-possession. So also with regard to the second part of the question, which concerns asceticism. You know, we think that when confronted by a problem - in this case, the problem of possession - we can solve it and understand it by going to its opposite. I come from a country where asceticism is in our blood. The climate encourages the custom. India is hot, and there it is much better to have very few things, to sit in the shade of a tree and discuss philosophy, or to withdraw entirely from harrowing, conflicting life, to take oneself into the woods to meditate. The question of asceticism also arises when one is a slave to possession. Asceticism has no inherent value. When you practise it, you are merely escaping from possession to its opposite, which is asceticism. It is like a man who seeks detachment because he experiences pain in attachment. "Let me be detached", he says. Likewise, you say, "I will become an ascetic", because possession creates suffering. What you are really doing is merely going from possession to non-possession, which is another form of possession. But in that move also there is conflict, because you do not understand the full significance of possession. That is, you look to possession for comfort; you think that happiness, security, the flattery of public opinion, lies in having many things, whether they be ideas, virtues, land, or titles. Because we think that security and happiness and power lie in possession, we accumulate, we strive to possess, we struggle and compete with each other, we stifle and exploit each other. That is what is happening throughout the world, and a cunning mind says: "Let us become ascetic; let us not possess; let us become slaves to asceticism; let us make laws so that man shall not possess." In other words, you are but leaving one prison for another, merely calling the new one by a different name. But if you really understand the transient value of possession, then you become neither an ascetic nor a person burdened by the desire for possession; then you are truly a human being. Question: I have received the impression that you have a certain disdain for acquiring knowledge. Do you mean that education or the study of books - for instance, the study of history or science -has no value? Do you mean that you yourself have learned nothing from your teachers? Krishnamurti: I am talking of living a complete life, a human life, and no amount of explanation, whether of science or of history, will free the mind and heart from suffering. You may study, you may learn the encyclopaedia by heart, but you are a human being, active; your actions are voluntary, your mind is pliable, and you cannot suffocate it by knowledge. Knowledge is necessary, science is necessary. But if your mind is caught up in explanations, and the cause of suffering is intellectually explained away, then you lead a superficial life, a life without depth. And that is what is happening to us. Our education is making us more and more shallow; it is teaching us neither depth of feeling nor freedom of thought, and our lives are disharmonious. The questioner wants to know if I have not learned from teachers. I am afraid that I have not, because there is nothing to learn. Someone can teach you how to play the piano, to work out problems in mathematics; you can be taught the principles of engineering or the technique of painting; but no one can teach you creative fulfillment, which is life itself. And yet you are constantly asking to be taught. You say, "Teach me the technique of living, and I shall know what life is." I say that this very desire for a method, this very idea, destroys your freedom of action, which is the very freedom of life itself. Question: You say that nobody can help us but ourselves. Do you not believe that the life of Christ was an atonement for our sins? Do you not believe in the grace of God? Krishnamurti: These are words that I am afraid I do not understand. If you mean that another can save you, then I say that no one can save you. This idea that another can save you is a comfortable illusion. The greatness of man is that no one can help him or save him but man himself. You have the idea that an external God can show us the way through this conflicting labyrinth of life; that a teacher, a saviour of man, can show us the way, can take us out, can lead us away from the prisons that we have created for ourselves. If anyone gives you freedom, beware of that person, for you will but create other prisons through your own lack of understanding. But if you question, if you are awake, alert, constantly aware of your action, then your life is harmonious; then your action is complete, for it is born out of creative harmony, and this is true fulfillment. Question: Whatever activity a person takes up, how can he do anything else but patchwork as long as he has not fully attained the realization of truth? Krishnamurti: You think that work and assistance can help those who are suffering. To me such an attempt to do social good for the welfare of man is patchwork. I am not saying that it is wrong; it is undoubtedly necessary, because society is in a state which demands that there be those who work to bring about social change, those who work to better social conditions. But there must also be workers of the other type, those who work to prevent the new structures of society from being based on false ideas. To put it differently, suppose that some of you are interested in education; you have listened to what I have been saying, and suppose you start a school or teach in a school. First of all, find out if you are interested merely in ameliorating conditions in education, or whether you are interested in sowing the seed of real understanding, in awakening people to a creative living; find out if you are interested merely in showing them a way out of troubles, in giving them consolation, panaceas, or if you are really eager to awaken them to an understanding of their own limitations, so that they can destroy the barriers which now hold them. Question: Please explain what you mean by immortality. Is immortality as real to you as the ground on which you stand, or is it just a sublime idea? Krishnamurti: What I am going to tell you about immortality will be difficult to understand, because to me immortality is not a belief: it is. This is a very different thing. There is immortality -and not that I know or believe in it. I hope that you see the distinction. The moment I say "I know", immortality becomes an objective, static thing. But when there is no "I", there is immortality. Beware of the person who says, "I know immortality", because to him immortality is a static thing, which means that there is duality: there is the "I", and there is that which is immortal, two different things. I say that there is immortality, and that it is because there is no"I" consciousness. Now please don't say that I don't believe in immortality. To me belief has nothing to do with it. Immortality is not external. But where there is a belief in a thing there must be an object and a subject. For example, you don't believe in sunshine: it is. Only a blind man who has never seen what sunshine is, has to believe in it. To me there is an eternal life, an everbecoming life; it is everbecoming, not evergrowing, for that which grows is transient. Now to understand that immortality which I say exists, the mind must be free of this idea of continuity and non-continuity. When a person asks, "Is there immortality?" he wants to know if he, as an individual, will continue, or if he, as an individual, will be destroyed. That is, he thinks only in terms of opposites, in terms of duality: Either you exist or you do not. If you try to understand my answer from the point of view of duality, then you will utterly fail. I say that immortality is. But to realize that immortality, which is the ecstasy of life, mind and heart must be free from the identification with conflict from which arises the consciousness of the "I", and free also from the idea of annihilation of the ego consciousness. Let me put it in a different way. You know only opposites -courage and fear, possession and non-possession, detachment and attachment. Your whole life is divided into opposites - virtue and non-virtue, right and wrong - because you never meet life completely but always with this reaction, with this background of division. You have created this background; you have crippled your mind with these ideas, and then you ask: "Is there immortality?" I say there is, but to understand it, mind must be free from this division. That is, if you are afraid, do not seek courage, but let the mind free itself from fear; see the futility of what you call courage; understand that it is but an escape from fear, and that fear will exist as long as there is the idea of gain and loss. Instead of always reaching out for the opposite, instead of struggling to develop the opposite quality, let mind and heart free themselves from that in which they are caught. Do not try to develop its opposite. Then you will know for yourself, without anyone's telling you or leading you, what immortality is; immortality which is neither the "I" nor the "you", but which is life. FROGNERSETEREN, NORWAY 4TH PUBLIC TALK 12TH SEPTEMBER, 1933 Friends, Today I am going to make a resume of what I have been saying here. We have the idea that wisdom is a process of acquisition through constant multiplication of experience. We think that by multiplying experiences we shall learn, and that learning will give us wisdom, and through that wisdom in action we hope to find richness, self-sufficiency, happiness, truth. That is, to us experience is but a constant change of sensation, because we look to time to give us wisdom. When we think in this manner, that through time we shall acquire wisdom, we have the idea of getting somewhere. That is, we say that time will gradually reveal wisdom. But time does not reveal wisdom, because we use time only as a means of getting somewhere. When we have the idea of acquiring wisdom through the constant change of experience, we are looking for acquisition, and so there is no immediate perception which is wisdom. Let us take an example; perhaps it will clarify what I mean. This change of desire, this change of sensation, this multiplication of experiences which that change of sensation brings about, we call progress. Suppose we see a hat in a shop, and we desire to possess it; having obtained that hat, we want something else - a car, and so on. Then we turn to emotional wants, and we think that in thus changing our desire from a hat to an emotional sensation we have grown. From emotional sensation we turn to intellectual sensations, to ideas, to God, to truth. That is, we think that we have progressed through constant change of experiences, from the state of wanting a hat to the state of wanting and searching for God. So we believe that through experiences, through choice, we have made progress. Now to me that is not progress; it is merely change in sensation, sensation more and more subtle, more and more refined, but still sensation, and therefore superficial. We have merely changed the object of our desire; at first it was a hat, now it has become God, and therein we think we have made tremendous progress. That is, we think that through this gradual process of refining sensation we shall find out what truth, God, eternity is. I say you will never find truth through the gradual change of the object of desire. But if you understand that only through immediate perception, immediate discernment, lies the whole of wisdom, then this idea of the gradual change of desire will disappear. Now what are we doing? We think: "I was different yesterday, I am different today, and I shall be different tomorrow; so we look to difference, to change - not to discernment. Take, for instance, the idea of detachment. We say to ourselves, "Two years ago I was very much attached, today I am less attached, and in a few years I shall be still less, eventually coming to a state in which I shall be quite detached." So we think that we have grown from attachment to detachment through the constant shock of experience, which we call progress, development of character. To me this is not progress. If you perceive with your entire being the whole significance of attachment, then you do not progress towards detachment. The mere pursuit of detachment does not reveal the shallowness of attachment, which can be understood only when the mind and heart are not escaping through the idea of detachment. This understanding is not brought about through time, but only in the realization that in attachment itself there is pain as well as transient joy. Then you ask me, "Won't time help me to perceive that?" Time will not. What will make you perceive is either the transiency of joy or the intensity of pain in attachment. If you are fully aware of this, then you are no longer held by the idea of being different now from what you were a few years ago, and later on being different again. The idea of progressive time becomes illusory. To put it differently, we think that through choice we shall advance, we shall learn, through choice we shall change. We choose mostly what we want. There is no satisfaction in comparative choice. That which does not satisfy us we call the unessential, and that which does, the essential. Thus we are constantly being caught in this conflict of choice from which we hope to learn. Choice, then, is merely opposites in action; it is calculation between the opposites, and not enduring discernment. Hence, we grow from what we call the unessential to what we call the essential, and that, in turn, becomes the unessential. That is, we grow from the desire for the hat, which we thought was the essential and which has now become the unessential, to what we think is the essential, only to discover that also to be the unessential. So through choice we think that we shall come to the fullness of action, to the completeness of life. As I have said, to me perception or discernment is timeless. Time does not give you discernment of experiences; it makes you only more clever, more cunning, in meeting experiences. But if you perceive and live completely in the very thing that you are experiencing, then this idea of change from the unessential to the essential disappears, and so mind frees itself from the idea of progressive time. You look to time to change you. You say to yourself, "Through the multiplication of experiences, as in changing from the desire for the hat to the desire for God, I shall learn wisdom, I shall learn understanding." In action born of choice there is no discernment, choice being calculation, a remembrance of incomplete action. That is, you now meet an experience partially, with a religious bias, with the prejudices of social or class distinctions, and this perverted mind, when it meets life, creates choice; it does not give you the fullness of understanding. But if you meet life with freedom, with openness, with simplicity, then choice disappears, for you live completely, without creating the conflict of opposites. Question: What do you mean by living fully, openly, freely? Please give a practical example. Please also explain, with a practical example, how in the attempt to live fully, openly, and freely one becomes conscious of one's hindrances which prevent freedom, and how by becoming fully conscious of them one can be liberated from them. Krishnamurti: Suppose I am a snob and am unconscious that I am a snob; that is, I have class prejudice, and I meet life, unconscious of this prejudice. Naturally, having my mind distorted by this idea of class distinction, I cannot understand, I cannot meet life openly, freely, simply. Or again, if I have been brought up with strong religious doctrines or with some particular training, my thoughts and emotions are perverted; with this background of prejudice I go forth to meet life, and this prejudice naturally prevents my complete understanding of life. In such a background of tradition and false values, of class distinction and religious bias, of fear and prejudice, we are caught. With that background, with those established standards, either inner or outer, we go forth trying to meet life and trying to understand. From these prejudices there arises conflict, transient joys and suffering. But we are unconscious of this, unconscious that we are slaves to certain forms of tradition, to social and political environment, to false values. Now to free yourself from this slavery, I say, do not try to analyze the past, the background of tradition to which you are a slave and of which you are unconscious. If you are a snob, do not try to find out after your action is over whether you are a snob. Be fully aware, and through what you say and through what you do, the snobbery that you are unconscious of will come into activity; then you can be free of it, for this flame of awareness creates an intense conflict, which dissolves snobbery. As I said the other day, self-analysis is destructive, because the more you analyze yourself the less there is of action. Self-analysis takes place only when the incident is over, when it has passed away; then you return to that incident intellectually and try intellectually to dissect it, to understand it. There is no understanding in a dead thing. Rather if you are fully conscious in your action, not as a watcher who only observes, but as an actor who is wholly consumed in that action - if you are fully aware of it and not apart from it, then the process of self-analysis does not exist. It does not exist because you are then meeting life wholly, you are then not separate from experience, and in that flame of awareness you bring into activity all your prejudices, all the false standards that have crippled your mind; and by bringing them into your full consciousness you free yourself from them, because they create trouble and conflict, and through that very conflict you are liberated. We hold to the idea that time will give us understanding. To me this is but a prejudice, a hindrance. Now suppose you think about this idea for a moment - not accept it, but think it over and desire to find out if it is true. You will find then that you can test it only in action, not by theorizing about it. Then you will not ask if what I say is true - you will test it action. I say that time does not bring you understanding; when you look to time as a gradual process of unfoldment you are creating a hindrance. You can test this only through action; only in experience can you perceive whether this idea has any value in itself. But you will miss its deep significance if you try to use it as a means to something else. The idea of time as a process of unfoldment is a cultivated method of postponement. You do not meet the thing that confronts you because you are afraid; you do not want to meet experience wholly, either because of your prejudices or because of the desire to postpone. When you have a twisted ankle, you cannot gradually untwist it. This idea that we learn through many and increasing experiences, through the multiplication of joy and suffering, is one of our prejudices, one of our hindrances. To find out if this is true, you have to act; you will never find out merely by sitting down and discussing about it. You can find out only in the movement of action, by seeing how your mind and heart react, not by shaping them, pushing them towards a particular end; then you will see that they are reacting according to the prejudice of accumulation. You say, "Ten years ago I was different; today I am different, and ten years hence I shall be still more different", but the meeting of experiences with the idea that you will be different, that you will gradually learn, prevents you from understanding them, from discerning instantaneously, fully. Question: Would you also give a practical example of how self-analysis is destructive. Does your teaching at this point spring from your own experience? Krishnamurti: First of all, I have not studied philosophies or the sacred books. I am giving you of my own experiences. I am often asked if I have studied the sacred books, philosophies, and other such writings. I have not. I am telling you what to me is truth, wisdom, and it is for you to find out, you who are learned. I think that in that very process of accumulation which we call learning lies our misfortune. When it is burdened with knowledge, with learning, mind is crippled - not that we must not read. But wisdom is not to be bought; it must be experienced in action. I think that answers the second part of the question. I shall answer the question differently, and I hope that I shall explain it more clearly. Why do you think that you must analyze yourself? Because you have not lived fully in experiences, and that experience has created a disturbance in you. Therefore you say to yourself, "The next time I meet it I must be prepared, so let me look at that incident which is past, and I shall learn from it; then I shall meet the next experience fully, and it will not then trouble me." So you begin to analyze, which is an intellectual process, and therefore not wholly true; as you have not understood it completely, you say: "I have learned something from that past experience; now, with that little knowledge, let me meet the next experience from which I shall learn a little more." Thus you never live completely in the experience itself; this intellectual process of learning, accumulating, is always going on. This is what you do every day, only unconsciously. You have not the desire to meet life harmoniously, completely; rather you think that you will learn to meet it harmoniously through analysis; that is, by adding little by little to the granary in the mind, you hope to become full, and to be able to meet life fully, wholly. But your mind will never become free through this process; full it may become - but never free, open, simple. And what prevents your being simple, open, is this constant process of analyzing an incident of the past, which must of necessity be incomplete. There can be complete understanding only in the very movement of experience itself. When you are in a great crisis, when there must be action, then you do not analyze, you do not calculate: you put all that aside, for in that moment your mind and heart are in creative harmony and there is true action. Question: What is your view concerning religious, ceremonial, and occult practices - to mention only some activities that help mankind? Is your attitude to them merely one of complete indifference, or is it one of antagonism? Krishnamurti: To take up such practices seems to me a waste of effort. When you say "practice", you mean following a method, a discipline, which you hope will give you the understanding of truth. I have said a great deal about this, and I have not the time to go into it fully again. The whole idea of following a discipline makes the mind and heart rigid and consistent. Having already laid down a plan of conduct and desiring to be consistent, you say to yourself, "I must do this and I must not do that", and your memory of that discipline is guiding you through life. That is, because of the fear of religious dogmas and the economic situation, you meet experiences partially, through the veil of these methods and disciplines. You meet life with fear, which creates prejudices; so there is incomplete understanding, and from this arise conflicts. And in order to overcome these conflicts you find a method, a discipline, according to which you judge, "I must" and "I must not." So, having established a consistency, a standard, you discipline yourself according to it through constant memory, and this you call self-discipline, occult practices. I say that such self-discipline, practice, this continual adjustment to a pattern or not adjusting to a standard, does not free the mind. What liberates the mind is meeting life fully, being fully aware, which does not demand practice. You cannot say to yourself, "I must be aware, I must be aware." Awareness comes in complete intensity of action. When you suffer greatly, when you enjoy greatly, at that moment you meet life with full awareness, and not with a divided consciousness; then you meet all things completely, and in this there is freedom. With regard to religious ceremonies, the matter is very simple from my point of view. A ceremony is merely a glorified sensation. Some of you probably do not agree with this opinion. You know, it is with religious ceremonial as it is with worldly pomp: when a king holds court, the spectators are tremendously impressed and greatly exploited. The reason the majority of people go to church is to find comfort, to escape, to exploit and to be exploited; and if some of you have listened to what I have been saying during the last five or six days, you will have understood my attitude and action towards ceremonies. "Is your attitude to them merely one of complete indifference, or is it one of antagonism?" My attitude is neither indifferent nor antagonistic. I say that they must ever hold the seed of exploitation, and therefore they are unintelligent and unrighteous. Question: Since you do not seek followers, why then do you ask people to leave their religions and follow your advice? Are you prepared to take the consequences of such advice? Or do you mean that people need guidance? If not, why do you preach at all? Krishnamurti: Sorry, I have never created such a thing as a follower. I have said to no one, "Leave your church and follow me." That would be but asking you to come to another church, into another prison. I say that by following another you become but a slave, unintelligent; you become a machine, an imitative automaton. In following another you can never find out what life is, what eternity is. I say that all following of another is destructive, cruel, leading to exploitation. I am concerned with the sowing of the seed. I am not asking you to follow. I say that the very following of another is the destruction of that life, that eternal becoming. To put it differently, by following another you destroy the possibility of discovering truth, eternity. Why do you follow? Because you want to be guided, you want to be helped. You think that you cannot understand; therefore you go to another and learn his technique, and to his method you become a slave. You become the exploiter and the exploited, and yet you hope that by continually practising that method you will release creative thinking. You can never release creative thinking by following. It is only when you begin to question the very idea of following, of setting up authorities and worshipping them, that you can find out what is true; and truth shall free your mind and heart. "Do you mean that people need guidance?" I say that people do not need guidance; they need awakening. If you are guided to certain righteous actions, those actions are no longer righteous; they are merely imitative, compelled. But if you yourself, through questioning, through continual awareness, discover true values -and you can only do this for yourself and none other - then the whole question of following, guidance, loses its significance. Wisdom is not a thing that comes through guidance, through following, through the reading of books. You cannot learn wisdom second hand, yet that is what you are trying to do. So you say, "Guide me, help me, liberate me." But I say, beware of the man who helps you, who liberates you. "Why do you preach at all?" That is very simple: because I cannot help it, and also because there is so much suffering, so much joy that fades. For me there is an eternal becoming which is an ecstasy; and I want to show that this chaotic existence can be changed to orderly and intelligent co-operation in which the individual is not exploited. And this is not through an oriental philosophy, through sitting under a tree, drawing away from life, but quite the contrary; it is through the action which you find when you are fully awake, completely aware in great sorrow or joy. This flame of awareness consumes all the self-created hindrances that destroy and pervert the creative intelligence of man. But most people, when they experience suffering, seek immediate relief or try, through memory, to catch a fleeting joy. Thus their minds are constantly escaping. But I say, become aware, and you yourselves will free your minds from fear; and this freedom is the understanding of truth. Question: Is your experience of reality something peculiar to this time? If not, why has it not been possible in the past? Krishnamurti: Surely reality, eternity, cannot be conditioned by time. You mean to ask whether people have not searched and struggled after reality throughout the centuries. To me, that very struggle after truth has prevented them from understanding. Question: You say that suffering cannot give us understanding, but can only awaken us. If that is so, why does not suffering cease when we have been fully awakened? Krishnamurti: That is just it. We are not fully awakened through suffering. Suppose that someone dies. What happens? You want an immediate relief from that sorrow; so you accept an idea, a belief, or you seek amusements. Now what has happened? There has been true suffering, an awakened struggle, a shock, and to overcome that shock, that suffering, you have accepted an idea such as reincarnation, or faith in the hereafter, or belief in communication with the dead. These are all ways of escape. That is, when you are awakened there is conflict, struggle. which you call suffering; but immediately you want to put away that struggle, that awakening; you long for forgetfulness through an idea, a theory, or through an explanation, which is but a process of being put to sleep again. So this is the everyday process of existence: you are awakened through the impact with life, experience, which causes suffering, and you want to be comforted; so you seek out people, ideas, explanations, to give you comfort, satisfaction, and this creates the exploiter and the exploited. But if in that state of acute questioning, which is suffering, if in that state of awakened interest, you meet experiences completely, then you will find out the true value and significance of all the human shelters and illusions which you have created; and the understanding of them alone will free you from suffering. Question: What is the shortest way to get rid of our worries and troubles and our hard feelings and reach happiness and freedom? Krishnamurti: There is no shortest way; but hard feelings, worries and troubles themselves liberate you if you are not trying to escape from them through the desire for freedom and happiness. You say that you want freedom and happiness, because hard feelings and troubles are difficult to bear. So you are merely running away from them, you don't understand why they exist; you don't understand why you have worries, why you have troubles, hard feelings, bitterness, suffering, and passing joy. And since you don't understand, you want to know the shortest way out of the confusion. I say, beware of the man who shows you the shortest way out. There is no way out of suffering and trouble except through that suffering and trouble itself. This is not a hard saying; you will understand it if you think it over. The moment you stop trying to escape you will understand; you cannot but understand, for then you are no longer entangled in explanations. When all explanations have ceased, when they no longer have any meaning, then truth is. Now you are seeking explanations; you are seeking the shortest way, the quickest method; you are looking to practices, to ceremonials, to the newest theory of science. These are all escapes. But when you really understand the illusion of escape, when you are wholly confronting the thing that creates conflict within you, then that very thing will release you. Now life creates great disturbance in you, problems of possession, sex, hatred. So you say, "Let me find a higher life, a divine life, a life of non-possession, a life of love." But your very striving for such a life is but an escape from these disturbances. If you become aware of the falseness of escape, which you can understand only when there is conflict, then you will see how your mind is accustomed to escape. And when you have ceased to escape, when your mind is no longer seeking an explanation, which is but a drug, then that very thing from which you have been trying to escape reveals its full significance. This understanding frees the mind and heart from sorrow. Question: Have you no faith whatever in the power of Divinity that shapes the destiny of man? If not, are you then an atheist? Krishnamurti: The belief that there is a Divinity that can shape man is one of the hindrances of man; but when I say that, it does not mean that I am an atheist. I think the people who say they believe in God are atheists, not only those who do not believe in God, because both are slaves to a belief. You cannot believe in God; you have to believe in God only when there is no understanding, and you cannot have understanding by searching for it. Rather, when your mind is really free from all values, which have become the very centre of ego consciousness, then there is God. We have an idea that some miracle will change us; we think that some divine or external influence will bring about changes in ourselves and in the world. We have lived in that hope for centuries, and that is what is the matter with the world - complete chaos, irresponsibility in action, because we think someone else is going to do everything for us. To discard this false idea does not mean that we must turn to its opposite. When we free the mind from opposites, when we see the falseness of the belief that someone else is looking after us, then a new intelligence is awakened in us. You want to know what God is, what truth is, what eternal life is; so you ask me, "Are you an atheist or a theist? If you are a believer in God, then tell me what God is." I say the man who describes what truth or God is, to him truth does not exist. When it is put in the cage of words, then truth is no longer a living reality. But if you understand the false values in which you are held, if you free yourself from them, then there is an everliving reality. Question: When we know that our way of living will inevitably disgust others and produce complete misunderstanding in their minds, how should we act, if we are to respect their feelings and their points of view? Krishnamurti: This question seems so simple that I do not see where the difficulty is. "How should we act in order not to trouble others?" Is that what you want to know? I am afraid then we should not be acting at all. If you live completely, your actions may cause trouble; but what is more important: finding out what is true, or not disturbing others? This seems so simple that it hardly needs to be answered. Why do you want to respect other people's feelings and points of view? Are you afraid of having your own feelings hurt, your point of view being changed? If people have opinions that differ from yours, you can find out if they are true only by questioning them, by coming into active contact with them. And if you find that those opinions and feelings are not true, your discovery may cause disturbance to those who cherish them. Then what should you do? Should you comply with them, or compromise with them in order not to hurt your friends? Question: Do you think that pure food has anything to do with the fulfillment of your ideas of life? Are you a vegetarian? (Laughter) Krishnamurti: You know, humour is impersonal. I hope that the questioner is not hurt when people laugh. If I am a vegetarian, what of it? It is not what goes into your mouth that will free you, but the finding out of true values, from which arises complete action. Question: Your message of disinterested remoteness, detachment, has been preached in all ages and in many faiths to a few chosen disciples. What makes you think that this message is now fit for everyone in a human society where there is of necessity interdependence in all social actions? Krishnamurti: I am very sorry, but I have never said that one should be remotely disinterested, that one should be detached; quite the contrary. So first please understand what I say, and then see if it has any value. Let us take the question of detachment. You know, for centuries we have been gathering, accumulating, making ourselves secure. Intellectually you may see the foolishness of possessiveness, and say to yourself, "Let me be detached." Or rather, you don't see the foolishness of it; so you begin to practise detachment, which is but another way of gathering in, laying up. For if you really perceive the foolishness of possessiveness, then you are free from both detachment and its opposite. The result is not a remote inactivity, but rather, complete action. You know, we are slaves to legislation. If a law were passed tomorrow decreeing that we should not possess property, we should be forced to comply with it, with a good deal of kicking. In that also there would be security, security in non-possession. So I say, do not be the plaything of legislation, but find out the very thing to which you are a slave - that is, acquisitiveness. Find out its true significance, without escaping into detachment; how it gives you social distinctions, power, leading to an empty, superficial life. If you relinquish possessions without understanding them, you will have the same emptiness in non-possession - the sensation of security in asceticism, in detachment, which will become the shelter to which you will withdraw in times of conflict. As long as there is fear there must be the pursuit of opposites; but if the mind frees itself from the very cause of fear, which is self-consciousness, the "I", the limited consciousness, then there is fulfillment, completeness of action. ADYAR 1ST PUBLIC TALK 29TH DECEMBER, 1933 Mr. Warrington, the acting President of the Theosophical Society, kindly invited me to come to Adyar and to give some talks here. I am very glad to have accepted his invitation and I appreciate his friendliness, which I hope will continue, even though we may differ completely in our ideas and opinions. I hope that you will all listen to my talks without prejudice, and will not think that I am trying to attack your society. I want to do quite another thing. I want to arouse the desire for true search, and this, I think, is all that a teacher can do. That is all I want to do. If I can awaken that desire in you, I have completed my task, for out of that desire comes intelligence, that intelligence which is free from any system and organized belief. This intelligence is beyond all thought of compromise and false adjustment. So during these talks, those of you who belong to various societies or groups will please bear in mind that I am very grateful to the Theosophical Society and its acting President for having asked me to come here to speak, and that I am not attacking the Theosophical Society. I am not interested in attacking. But I hold that while organizations for the social welfare of man are necessary, societies based on religious hopes and beliefs are pernicious. So though I may appear to speak harshly, please bear in mind that I am not attacking any particular society, but that I am against all these false organizations which, though they profess to help man, are in reality a great hindrance and are the means of constant exploitation. When mind is filled with beliefs, ideas, and definite conclusions which it calls knowledge and which become sacred, then the infinite movement of thought ceases. That is what is happening to most minds. What we call knowledge is merely accumulation; it prevents the free movement of thought, yet we cling to it and worship this so-called knowledge. So mind becomes enmeshed, entangled in it. It is only when mind is freed from all this accumulation, from beliefs, ideals, principles, memories, that there is creative thinking. You cannot blindly put away accumulation; you can be free from it only when you understand it. Then there is creative thought; then there is an eternal movement. Then mind is no longer separated from action. Now the beliefs, ideals, virtues, and sanctified ideas which you are pursuing, and which you call knowledge, prevent creative thinking and thereby put an end to the continual ripening of thought. For thought does not mean the following of a particular groove of established ideas, habits, traditions. Thought is critical; it is a thing apart from inherited or acquired knowledge. When you merely accept certain ideas, traditions, you are not thinking. and there is slow stagnation. You say to me, "We have beliefs, we have traditions, we have principles; are they not right? Must we get rid of them?" I am not going to say that you must get rid of them or that you must not. Indeed, your very readiness to accept the idea that you must or must not get rid of these beliefs and traditions prevents you from thinking; you are already in a state of acceptance, and therefore you have not the capacity to be critical. I am talking to individuals, not to organizations or groups of individuals. I am talking to you as an individual, not to a group of people holding certain beliefs. If my talk is to be of any value to you, try to think for yourself, not with the group consciousness. Don't think along the lines to which you have already committed yourself, for they are merely subtle forms of comfort. You say,"I belong to a certain society, to a certain group. I have given that group certain promises and accepted from it certain benefits. How can I think apart from these conditions and promises? What am I to do?" I say, do not think in terms of commitments, for they prevent you from thinking creatively. Where there is mere acceptance there cannot be free, flowing, creative thought which alone is supreme intelligence, which alone is happiness. The so-called knowledge that we worship, that we strive to attain by reading books, prevents creative thought. But because I say that such knowledge and such reading prevent creative thinking, don't immediately turn to the opposite. Don't say: "Must we not read at all?" I am talking of these things because I want to show you their inherent significance; I do not want to urge you to the opposite. Now if your attitude is one of acceptance, you live in fear of criticism, and when doubt arises, as it must arise, you carefully and sedulously destroy it. Yet it is only through doubt, through criticism, that you can fulfil; and the purpose of life is to fulfil, not to accumulate, not to achieve, as I shall explain presently. Life is a process of search, search not for any particular end, but to release the creative energy, the creative intelligence in man; it is a process of eternal movement, untrammelled by beliefs, by sets of ideas, by dogmas, or by so-called knowledge. So when I talk of criticism, please do not be partisans. I don't belong to your societies; I don't hold your opinions and ideals. We are here to examine, not to take sides. Therefore please follow open-mindedly what I shall say, and take sides - if you must take sides - after these talks are concluded. Why do you take sides? Belonging to a particular group gives you a feeling of comfort, of security. You think that because many of you hold certain ideas or principles, thereby you shall grow. But for the present, try not to take sides. Try not to be biased by the particular group to which you now belong, and don't try to take my side either. All that you have to do during these talks is to examine, to be critical, to doubt, to find out, to search, to fathom the problems before you. You are accustomed to opposition. not to criticism. (When I say "you", please do not think that I am talking with an attitude of superiority.) I say that you are not accustomed to criticism, and through this lack of criticism you hope to develop spiritually. You think that through this destruction of doubt, by getting rid of doubt, you will advance, for it has been put before you as one of the necessary qualities for spiritual progress; and you are thereby exploited. But in your careful destruction of doubt, in your putting away of criticism, you have merely developed opposition. You say,"The scriptures are my authority for this", or "The teachers have said that", or "I have read this." In other words, you hold certain beliefs, certain dogmas, certain principles with which you oppose any new and conflicting situation, and you imagine that you are thinking, that you are critical, creative. Your position is like that of a political party which acts merely in opposition. If you are truly critical, creative, you will never merely oppose; then you will be concerned with realities. But if your attitude is merely one of opposition, then your mind will not meet mine; then you will not understand what I am trying to convey. So when the mind is accustomed to opposition, when it has been carefully trained, through so-called education, through tradition and belief, through religious and philosophical systems, to acquire this attitude of opposition, it naturally does not have the capacity to criticize and to doubt truly. But if you are going to understand me, this is the first thing you should have. Please don't shut your minds against what I am saying. True criticism is the desire to find out. The faculty to criticize exists only when you want to discover the inherent worth of a thing. But you are not accustomed to that. Your minds are cleverly trained to give values, but by that process you will never understand the inherent significance of a thing, of an experience, or of an idea. To me, then, true criticism consists in trying to find out the intrinsic worth of the thing itself, and not in attributing a quality to that thing. You attribute a quality to an environment, to an experience, only when you want to derive something from it, when you want to gain or to have power or happiness. Now this destroys true criticism. Your desire is perverted through attributing values, and therefore you cannot see clearly. Instead of trying to see the flower in its original and entire beauty, you look at it through coloured glasses, and therefore you can never see it as it is. If you want to live, to enjoy, to appreciate the immensity of life, if you really want to understand it, not merely to repeat, parrot-like, what has been taught you, what has been dinned into you, then your first task is to remove the perversions that entangle you. And I assure you that this is one of the most difficult tasks, for these perversions are part of your training, part of your upbringing, and it is very difficult to detach yourself from them. The critical attitude demands freedom from the idea of opposition. For example, you say to me,"We believe in Masters; you do not. What have you to say to this?" Now that is not a critical attitude; it is, but please do not think I am speaking harshly, a childish attitude. We are discussing whether certain ideas are fundamentally true in themselves, not whether you have gained something from these ideas; for what you have gained may be merely perversions, prejudices. My purpose during this series of talks is to awaken your own true critical capacity, so that teachers will become unnecessary to you, so that you will not feel the necessity for lectures, for sermons, so that you will realize for yourself what is true and live completely. The world will be a happier place when there are no more teachers, when a man no longer feels that he must preach to his neighbour. But that state can come about only when you, as individuals, are really awakened, when you greatly doubt, when you have truly begun to question in the midst of sorrow. Now you have ceased to suffer. You have suffocated your minds with explanations, with knowledge; you have hardened your hearts. You are not concerned with feeling, but with beliefs, ideas, with the sanctity of so-called knowledge, and therefore you are starved; you are no longer human beings, but mere machines. I see you shake your heads. If you do not agree with me, ask me questions tomorrow. Write down your questions and hand them to me, and I will answer them. But this morning I am going to talk, and I hope you will follow what I have to say. There is no resting place in life. Thought can have no resting place. But you are seeking such a place of rest. In your various beliefs, religions, you have sought such a resting place, and in this seeking you have ceased to be critical, to flow with life, to enjoy, to live richly. As I have said, true search - which is different from the search for an end, or the search for help, or the pursuit of gain - true search results in understanding the intrinsic worth of experience. True search is as a swift-moving river, and in this movement there is understanding, an eternal becoming. But the search for guidance results merely in temporary relief, which means a multiplication of problems and an increase of their solutions. Now what are you seeking? Which of these do you want? Do you want to search, to discover, or do you want to find help, guidance? Most of you want help, temporary relief from suffering; you want to cure the symptoms rather than to find the cause of suffering. "I am suffering; you say, "give me a method which will free me from it." Or you say, "The world is in a chaotic condition. Give us a system that will solve its problems, that will bring about order." Thus, most of you are seeking temporary relief, temporary shelter, and yet you call that the search for truth. When you talk of service, of understanding, of wisdom, you are thinking merely in terms of comfort. As long as you merely want to relieve conflict, struggle, misunderstanding, chaos, suffering, you are like a doctor who deals only with the symptoms of a disease. As long as you are merely concerned with finding comfort, you are not really seeking. Now let us be quite frank. We can go far if we are really frank. Let us admit that all that you are seeking is security, relief; you are seeking security from constant change, relief from pain. Because you are insufficient you say, "Please give me sufficiency." So what you call search for truth is really an attempt to find relief from pain, which has nothing to do with reality. In such things we are like children. In time of danger we run to our mother, that mother being belief, guru, religion, tradition, habit. Here we take refuge, and hence our lives are lives of constant imitation, with never a moment of rich understanding. Now you may agree with my words, saying, "You are quite right; we are not seeking truth, but relief, and that relief is satisfactory for the moment." If you are satisfied with this, there is nothing more to be said. If you hold that attitude, I may as well say no more. But, thank heaven! not all human beings hold that attitude. Not all have reached the state of being satisfied with their own little experiences which they call knowledge, which is stagnation. Now when you say, "I am seeking", you imply that you are seeking the unknown. You desire the unknown, and that is the object of your search. Because, the known is to you appalling, unsatisfactory, futile, sorrow-laden, you want to discover the unknown, and hence the inquiry, "What is truth? What is God?" From this arises the question, "Who will help me to attain truth?" In that very attempt to find truth or God you create gurus, teachers, who become your exploiters. Please don't take offense at my words, don't become prejudiced against what I am saying, and don't think that I am riding my favourite hobby. I am merely showing you the cause of your being exploited, which is your seeking for a goal, an end; and when you understand the falseness of the cause, that understanding shall free you. I am not asking you to follow my teachings, for if you desire to understand truth you cannot follow anyone; if you desire to understand truth you must stand entirely alone. What is one of the most important things in which you are interested in your search for the unknown? "Tell me what is on the other side", you say, "tell me what happens to a person after death." The answer to such questions you call knowledge. So when you inquire into the unknown, you find a person who offers you a satisfactory explanation of it, and you take shelter in that person or in the idea that he gives you. Therefore that person or that idea becomes your exploiter, and you yourself are responsible for that exploitation, not the man or the idea that exploits you. From such inquiry into the unknown is born the idea of a guru who will lead you to truth. From such inquiry comes the confusion as to what truth is, because, in your search for the unknown, each teacher, each guide, offers you an explanation of what truth is, and that explanation naturally depends on his own prejudices and ideas; but through that teaching you hope to learn what truth is. Your search for the unknown is merely an escape. When you know the real cause, when you understand the known, then you will not inquire into the unknown. The pursuit of the variety and diversity of ideas about truth will not yield understanding. You say to yourself, "I am going to listen to this teacher, then I shall listen to someone else, then to another; and I shall learn from each the various aspects of truth." But by this process you will never understand. All that you do is to escape; you try to find that which will give you the greatest satisfaction, and he who gives you most you cherish as your guru. your ideal, your goal. So your search for truth has ceased. Now don't think that my showing you the futility of this search is mere cleverness on my part: I am explaining the reason for the exploitation that is taking place all over the world in the name of religion, in the name of government, in the name of truth. The unknown is not your concern. Beware of the man who describes to you the unknown, truth, or God. Such a description of the unknown offers you a means of escape - and besides, truth defies all description. In that escape there is no understanding, there is no fulfillment. In escape there is only routine and decay. Truth cannot be explained or described. It is. I say that there is a loveliness which cannot be put into words; if it were, it would be destroyed; it would then no longer be truth. But you cannot know this loveliness, this truth, by asking about it; you can know it only when you have understood the known, when you have grasped the full significance of that which is before you. So you are constantly seeking escape, and these attempts at escape you dignify with various spiritual names, with grand-sounding words; these escapes satisfy you temporarily, that is, until the next storm of suffering comes and blows away your shelter. Now let us put away this unknown, and concern ourselves with the known. Put aside for the moment your beliefs, your slavery to traditions, your dependence on your Bhagavad Gita, your scriptures, your Masters. I am not attacking your favourite beliefs, your favourite societies: I am telling you that if you would understand the truth of what I say, you must try to listen without bias. Through our various systems of education - which may be university training, or the following of a guru, or the dependence on the past in the form of tradition and habit, which creates incompleteness of the present - through these systems of education we have been encouraged to acquire, to worship success. Our whole system of thought, as well as our whole social structure, is based on the idea of gain. We look to the past because we cannot understand the present. To understand the present, which is experience, mind must be unburdened of past traditions and habits. As long as the weight of the past overwhelms us, we cannot understand, we cannot gather the perfume of an experience fully. So there must be incompleteness as long as there is the search for gain. That our whole system of thought is based on gain is no mere hypothetical assumption on my part; it is a fact. And the central idea of our social structure is also one of gain, achievement, success. But because I have said that your pursuit of this idea of gain will not result in complete living, do not therefore think in terms of the opposite. Don't say, "Must we not seek? Must we not gain? Must we not succeed?" This shows very limited thinking. What I want you to do is to question the very idea of gain. As I have said, the whole social, economic, and so-called spiritual structure of our world is based on this central idea of gain: gain from experience, gain from living, gain from teachers. And from this idea of gain you gradually cultivate in yourself the idea of fear, because in your looking for gain you are always in fear of loss. So, having this fear of loss, this fear of losing an opportunity, you create the exploiter, whether it be the man who guides you morally, spiritually, or an idea to which you cling. You are afraid and you want courage; therefore courage becomes your exploiter. An idea becomes your exploiter. Your attempt at achievement, at gain, is merely a running away, an escape from insecurity. When you talk of gain you are thinking of security; and after establishing the idea of security, you want to find a method of obtaining and keeping that security. Isn't that so? If you consider your life, if you examine it critically, you will find that it is based on fear. You are always looking to gain; and after searching out your securities, after establishing them as your ideals, you turn to someone who offers you a method, a plan, by which to achieve and to guard your ideals. Therefore you say, "In order to achieve that security, I must behave in a certain way, I must pursue virtue, I must serve and obey, I must follow gurus, teachers and systems; I must study and practise in order to obtain what I want." In other words, since your desire is for security, you find exploiters who will help you to obtain that which you want. So you, as individuals, establish religions to serve as securi- ties, to serve as standards for conventional conduct; because of the fear of loss, the fear of missing something that you want, you accept such guides or ideals as religions offer. Now having established your religious ideals, which are really your securities, you must have particular ways of conduct, practices, ceremonials and beliefs, in order to attain those ideals. In trying to carry them out, there arises division in religious thought, resulting in schisms, sects, creeds. You have your beliefs, and another has his; you hold to your particular form of religion and another to his; you are a Christian, another is a Mahomedan, and yet another a Hindu. You have these religious dissensions and distinctions, but yet you talk of brotherly love, tolerance and unity - not that there must be uniformity of thought and ideas. The tolerance of which you speak is merely a clever invention of the mind; this tolerance merely indicates the desire to cling to your own idiosyncrasies, your own limited ideas and prejudices, and allow another to pursue his own. In this tolerance there is no intelligent diversity, but only a kind of superior indifference. There is utter falsity in this tolerance. You say, "You continue in your own way, and I shall continue in mine; but let us be tolerant, brotherly." When there is true brotherliness, friendliness, when there is love in your heart, then you will not talk of tolerance. Only when you feel superior in your certainty, in your position, in your knowledge, only then do you talk of tolerance. You are tolerant only when there is distinction. With the cessation of distinction, there will be no talk of tolerance. Then you will not talk of brotherhood, for then in your hearts you are brothers. So you, as individuals, establish various religions which act as your security. No teacher has established these organized, exploiting religions. You yourselves, out of your insecurity, out of your confusion, out of your lack of comprehension, have created religions as your guides. Then, after you have established religions, you seek out gurus, teachers; you seek out Masters to help you. Don't think that I am trying to attack your favourite belief; I am simply stating facts, not for you to accept, but for you to examine, to criticize, and to verify. You have your Master, and another has his particular guide; you have your saviour, and another has his. Out of such division of thought and belief grows the contradiction and conflict of the merits of various systems. These disputes set man against man; but since we have intellectualized life, we no longer openly fight: we try to be tolerant. Please think about what I am saying. Don't merely accept or reject my words. To examine impartially, critically, you must put aside your prejudices and idiosyncrasies, and approach the whole question openly. Throughout the world, religions have kept men apart. Individually each one is seeking his own little security and is concerned about his own progress; individually each one desires to grow, to expand, to succeed, to achieve, and so he accepts any teacher who offers to help him towards his advancement and growth. As a result of this attitude of acceptance, criticism and true inquiry have ceased. Stagnation has set in. Though you move along a narrow groove of thought and of life, there is no longer true thinking, no longer full living, but only a defensive reaction. As long as religion keeps men apart there can be no brotherhood, any more than there can be brotherhood as long as there is nationality, which must ever cause conflict among men. Religion with its beliefs, its disciplines, its enticements, its hopes, its punishments, forces you towards righteous behaviour, towards brotherliness, towards love. And since you are compelled, you either obey the external authority which it sets up, or - which amounts to the same thing - you begin to develop your own inner authority as a reaction against the outer, and follow that. Where there is belief, where there is a following of an ideal, there cannot be complete living. Belief indicates the incapacity to understand the present. Now don't look to the opposite and say, "Must we have no beliefs? Must we have no ideals at all?" I am simply showing you the cause and the nature of belief. Because you cannot understand the swift movement of life, because you cannot gather the significance of its swift flow, you think that belief is necessary. In your dependence on tradition, on ideals, on beliefs or on Masters, you are not living in the present, which is the eternal. Many of you may think that what I am saying is very negative. It is not, for when you really see the false, then you understand the true. All that I am trying to do is to show you the false, that you may find the true. This is not negation. On the contrary, this awakening of creative intelligence is the only positive help that I can give you. But you may not think of this as positive; you would probably call me positive only if I gave you a discipline, a course of action, a new system of thought. But we cannot go further into this today. If you will ask questions about this tomorrow or on the following days, I shall try to answer them. Individuals have created society by grouping themselves together for purposes of gain, but this does not bring about real unity. This society becomes their prison, their mould, yet each individual wants to be free to grow, to succeed. So each becomes an exploiter of society and is, in turn, exploited by society. Society becomes the apex of their desire, and government the instrument for carrying out that desire by conferring honours upon those who have the greatest power to possess, to gain. The same stupid attitude exists in religion: religious authority considers the man who has conformed entirely to its dogmas and beliefs a truly spiritual person. It confers honour on the man who possesses virtue. So in our desire to possess - and again I am not talking in terms of opposites, but rather, I am examining the very thing that causes the desire for possession - in our pursuit of possession, we create a society to which we unconsciously become slaves. We become cogs in that social machine, accepting all its values, its traditions, its hopes and longings, and its established ideas, for we have created society, and it helps us to attain what we want. So the established order either of government or of religion puts an end to inquiry, to search, to doubt. Hence, the more we unite in our various possessions, the more we tend to become nationalistic. After all, what is a nation? It is a group of individuals living together for the purpose of economic convenience and self-protection, and exploiting similar units. I am not an economist, but this is an obvious fact. From this spirit of acquisitiveness arises the idea of "my family", "my house", "my country". So long as this possessiveness exists there cannot be true brotherhood or true internationalism. Your boundaries, your customs, your tariff walls, your traditions, your beliefs, your religions are separating man from man. What has been created by this mentality of gain, of separativeness, safety, security? Nationalities; and where there is nationalism there must be war. It is the function of nations to prepare for wars, otherwise they cannot be true nations. That is what is happening all over the world, and we are finding ourselves on the verge of another war. Every newspaper upholds nationalism and the spirit of separativeness. What is being said in almost every country, in America, England, Germany, Italy? "First ourselves and our individual security, and then we will consider the world." We do not seem to realize that we are all in the same boat. Peoples can no longer be separated as they were some centuries ago. We ought not to think in terms of separation, but we insist on thinking nationalistically or class-consciously be- cause we still cling to our possessions, to our beliefs. Nationalism is a disease; it cannot bring about world unity or human unity. We cannot attain health through disease; we must first free ourselves from disease. Education, society, religion, help to keep nations apart, because individually each is seeking to grow, to gain, to exploit. Now out of this desire to grow, to gain, to exploit, we create innumerable beliefs - beliefs concerning life after death, reincarnation, immortality - and we find people to exploit us through our beliefs. Please understand that in saying this I am referring to no particular leader or teacher; I am not attacking any of your leaders. Attacking anyone is a sheer waste of time. I am not interested in attacking any particular leader, I have something more important to do in life. I want to act as a mirror, to make clear to you the perversions and deceptions that exist in society, in religion. Our whole social and intellectual structure is based on the idea of gain, of achievement; and when mind and heart are held by the idea of gain, there cannot be true living, there cannot be the free flow of life. Isn't that so? If you are constantly looking to the future, to an achievement, to a gain, to a hope, how can you live completely in the present? How can you act intelligently as a human being? How can you think or feel in the fullness of the present when you are always keeping your eye on the distant future? Through our religion, through our education, we are made as nothing, and being conscious of that nothingness, we want to gain, to succeed. So we constantly pursue teachers, gurus, systems. If you really understand this, you will act; you will not merely discuss it intellectually. In the pursuit of gain you lose sight of the present. In your pursuit of gain, in your reliance on the past, you don't fully understand the immediate experience. That experience leaves a scar, a memory which is the incompleteness of that experience, and out of that increasing incompleteness grows the consciousness of the "I", the ego. Your divisions of the ego are but the superficial refinement of selfishness in its search for gain. Intrinsically, in that incompleteness of experience, in that memory, the ego has its roots. However much it may grow, expand, it will always retain the centre of selfishness. Thus, when you are looking for gain, for success, each experience increases self-consciousness. But we shall discuss this at another time. In this talk I want to present as much of my thought as I can, so that during the following talks I shall have time to answer the questions that you may ask. When mind is caught up in the past or in the future, it cannot understand the significance of the present experience. This is obvious. When you are looking to gain, you cannot understand the present. And since you do not understand the present, which is experience, it leaves its scar, its incompleteness in the mind. You are not free from that experience. This lack of freedom, of completeness, creates memory, and the increase of that memory is but self-consciousness, the ego. So when you say, "Let me look to experience to give me freedom", what you are really doing is increasing, intensifying, expanding that self-consciousness, that ego; for you are looking to gain, to accumulation, as the means of getting happiness, as the means of realizing truth. After establishing in your mind the consciousness of"I", your mind feeds that consciousness, and from that arises the question of whether or not you shall live after death, whether you may hope for reincarnation. You want to know categorically whether reincarnation is a fact. In other words, you utilize the idea of reincarnation as a means of postponement, taking comfort therein. You say, "Through progress I shall gain understanding; what I have not understood today I shall understand tomorrow. Therefore let me have the assurance that reincarnation is true." So you hold to this idea of progress, this idea of gaining more and more until you arrive at perfection. That is what you call progress, acquiring more and more, accumulating more and more. But to me, perfection is fulfillment, not this progressive accumulation. You use the word progress to mean accumulation, gain, achievement; that is your fundamental idea of progress. But perfection does not lie through progress; it is fulfillment. Perfection is not realized through the multiplication of experiences, but it is fulfillment in experience, fulfillment in action itself. Progress apart from fulfillment, leads to utter superficiality. Such a system of escape is prevalent in the world today. Your theory of reincarnation makes man more and more superficial, in that he says, "As I cannot fulfil today, I shall do so in the future." If you cannot fulfil in this life, you take comfort in the idea that here is always a next life. From this comes the inquiry into the hereafter, and the idea that the man who has acquired the most in knowledge, which is not wisdom, will attain perfection. But wis- dom is not the result of accumulation; wisdom is not possession: wisdom is spontaneous, immediate. While the mind is escaping from emptiness through gain, that emptiness increases, and you have not a day, not a moment, when you can say, "I have lived." Your actions are always incomplete, unfulfilled, and hence your search to continue. With this desire, what has happened? You have become more and more empty, more and more superficial, thoughtless, uncritical. You accept the man who offers you comfort, assurance, and you, as an individual, have created him as your exploiter. You have become his slave, the slave to his system, to his ideals. From this attitude of acceptance there is no fulfillment, but postponement. Hence the necessity for the idea of your continuity, the belief in reincarnation, and from that arises the idea of progress, accumulation. In whatever you do, there is no harmony, there is no significance, because you are constantly thinking in terms of gain. You think of perfection as an end, not as fulfillment. Now, as I have said, perfection lies in comprehension, in understanding the significance of an experience completely; and that understanding is fulfillment, which is immortality. So you have to become fully aware of your action in the present. The increase of self-consciousness comes through superficiality of action and through ceaseless exploitation, beginning with families, husbands, wives, children, and extending to society, ideals, religion; for they are all based on this idea of gain. What you are really pursuing is acquisitiveness, even though you may be unconscious of it, and of your exploitation. I want to make it clear that your religions, your beliefs, your traditions, your self-discipline are based on the idea of gain. They are but enticements for righteous behaviour, and from them spring the exploiter and the exploited. If you are pursuing acquisitiveness, pursue it consciously - not hypocritically. Do not say that you are seeking truth, for truth is not come at in this way. Now this idea of growing more and more is to me false, for that which grows is not eternal. Has it ever been shown that the more you have, the more you understand? In theory it may be so, but in actuality it is not so. One man increases his property and encloses it; another increases his knowledge and is bound by it. What is the difference? This process of accumulative growth is shallow, false from the very beginning, because that which is capable of growth is not eternal. It is an illusion, a falsity that has in it nothing of reality. But if you are pursuing this idea of accumulative growth, pursue it with all your mind and heart. Then you will discover how superficial, how vain, how artificial it is. And when you perceive that it is false, then you will know the truth. Nothing need substitute it. Then you no longer seek truth to substitute for the false; for in your direct perception there is no longer the false. And in that understanding there is the eternal. Then there is happiness, creative intelligence. Then you will live naturally, completely, as the flower; and in that there is immortality. ADYAR 2ND PUBLIC TALK 30TH DECEMBER, 1933 As I was saying yesterday, thought is crippled, stultified, when it is bound by belief, yet most of our thinking is a reaction based on belief, on a particular belief or an ideal. So our thinking is never true, flowing, creative. It is always held in check by a particular belief, tradition or an ideal. One can realize truth, that enduring understanding, only when thought is continuously in movement, unfettered by a past or by a future. This is so simple that we often do not perceive it. A great scientist has no objective in his research; if he were merely seeking a result, then he would cease to be a great scientist. So it must be with our thinking. But our thought is crippled, bound, hedged in by a belief, by a dogma, by an ideal, and so there is no creative thinking. Please apply what I say to yourselves; then you can easily follow my meaning. If you merely listen to it as an entertainment, then what I say is wholly futile, and there will be only further confusion. On what is our belief based? On what are most of our ideals founded? If you consider, you will find that belief has for its motive either the idea of gain, reward, or that it serves as an enticement, a guide, a pattern. You say, "I shall pursue virtue, I shall act in this or in that way, in order to obtain happiness; I shall find out what truth is, in order to overcome confusion, misery; I shall serve in order to have the blessings of heaven." But this attitude towards action as a means to future acquisition is constantly crippling your thought. Or again, belief is based on the result of the past. Either you have external, imposed principles, or you have developed inner ideals by which you are living. External principles are imposed by society, by tradition, by authority, all of which are based on fear. These are the principles that you are constantly using as your standard: "What will my neighbour think?" "What does public opinion maintain?", "What do the sacred books or the teachers say?" Or you develop an inner law, which is nothing more than a reaction to the outward; that is, you develop an inner belief, an inner principle, based on the memory of experience, on reaction, in order to guide yourself in the movement of life. So belief is either of the past or of the future. That is, when there is a want, desire creates the future; but when you are guiding yourself in the present according to an experience that you have had, that standard is in the past; it is already dead. So we develop resistance against the present, which we call will. Now to me, will exists only where there is lack of understanding. Why do we want will? When I understand and live in an experience, I do not have to combat it; I do not have to resist it. When I understand an experience completely there is no longer a spirit of imitation, of adjustment, or the desire to resist it. I understand it completely, and hence I am free from the burden of it. You will have to think over what I am saying; my words are not as confusing as they may sound. Belief is based on the idea of acquisition, and the desire to obtain results through action. You are seeking gain; you are being moulded by sets of beliefs based on the idea of gain, on the search for reward, and your action is the result of that search. If you were in the movement of thought, not seeking an end, a goal, a reward, then there would be results, but you would not be concerned with them. As I have said, a scientist who is seeking results is not a true scientist; and a true scientist who is profoundly seeking, is not concerned with the results he attains, even though these results may be useful to the world. So be concerned with the movement of action itself, and in that there is the ecstasy of truth. But you must become aware that your thought is bound by belief, that you are merely acting according to certain sets of beliefs, that your action is crippled by tradition. In this freedom of awareness there is completeness of action. Suppose, for instance, that I am a teacher in a school. If I try to mould the pupil's intelligence toward a particular action, then it is no longer intelligence. How the pupil shall employ his intelligence is his own affair. If he is intelligent he will act truly, because he is not acting from motives of gain, of reward, of enticement, of power. To understand this movement of thought, this completeness of action, which can never be static as a standard, as an ideal, mind must be free from belief; for action that seeks reward cannot understand its own completeness, its own fulfillment. Yet most of your actions are based on belief. You believe in the guidance of a Mas- ter, you believe in an ideal, you believe in religious dogmas, you believe in the established traditions of society. But with that background of belief you will never understand, you will never fathom the experience with which you are confronted, because belief prevents you from living that experience wholly, with all your being. Only when you are no longer bound by belief will you know the completeness of action. Now you are unconscious of this burden which is perverting the mind. Become fully aware in action of this burden, and that awareness alone shall free the mind from all perversions. Now I shall answer some of the questions that have been put to me. Question: By the sanction of the scriptures and the concurrence of many teachers, doubt has been regarded throughout the ages as a fetter to be destroyed before truth can dawn upon the soul. You, on the contrary, seem to look upon doubt in quite a different light. You have even called it a precious ointment. Which of these contradictory views is the right one? Krishnamurti: Let us leave the scriptures out of this discussion; for when you begin to quote scripture in support of your opinions, be sure the Devil can also find texts in scripture to support quite the opposite view! In the Upanishads, in the Vedas, I am sure there can be found quite the opposite of what you say the scriptures teach: I am sure there can be found texts saying that one should doubt. So let us not quote scripture at each other; that is like hurling bricks at each other's heads. As I have said, your actions are based on beliefs, ideals, which you have inherited or acquired. They have no reality. No belief is ever a living reality. To the man who is living, beliefs are unnecessary. Now since the mind is crippled by many beliefs, many principles, many traditions, false values and illusions, you must begin to question them, to doubt them. You are not children. You cannot accept whatever is offered to you or forced upon you. You must begin to question the very foundation of authority, for that is the beginning of true criticism; you must question so as to discover for yourselves the true significance of traditional values. This doubt, born of intense conflict, alone will free the mind and give you the ecstasy of freedom, an ecstasy liberated from illusion. So the first thing is to doubt, not cherish your beliefs. But it is the delight of exploiters to urge you not to doubt, to consider doubt a fetter. Why should you fear doubt? If you are satisfied with things as they are, then continue living as you are. Say that you are satisfied with your ceremonies; you may have rejected the old and accepted the new, but both amount to the same thing in the end. If you are satisfied with them, what I say will not disturb you in your stagnant tranquillity. But we are not here to be bound, to be fettered; we are here to live intelligently, and if you desire so to live, the first thing you must do is to question. Now our so-called education ruthlessly destroys creative intelligence. Religious education which authoritatively holds before you the idea of fear in various forms, keeps you from questioning, from doubting. You may have discarded the old religion of Mylapore, but you have taken on a new religion which has many "Don't's" and "Do's". Society, through the force of public opinion which is strong, vital, also prevents you from doubting; and you say that if you stood up against this public opinion, it would crush you. Thus, on all sides, doubt is discouraged, destroyed, put aside. Yet you can find truth only when you begin to question, to doubt the values by which society and religion, ancient and modern, have surrounded you. So don't compare what I am saying with what is said in the scriptures; in that way we shall never understand. Comparison does not lead to understanding. Only when we take an idea by itself and examine it profoundly, not comparatively or relatively, but with the purpose of finding out its intrinsic value, only then shall we understand. Let us take an example. You know it is the custom here to marry very young, and it has become almost sacred. Now, must you not question that custom? You question this traditional habit if you really love your children. But public opinion is so strongly in favour of early marriage that you dare not go against it and so you never honestly inquire into this superstition. Again, you have discarded certain ceremonies and have taken up new ones. Now why did you give up the old ceremonies? You gave them up because they did not satisfy you; and you have taken up new ceremonies because they are more promising, more enticing, they offer greater hope. You have never said, "I am going to find out the intrinsic value of ceremonies, whether they are Hindu, Christian, or of any other creed." To discover their intrinsic value, you must put aside the hopes, enticements, they offer, and critically examine the whole question. There cannot be this attitude of acceptance. You accept only when you desire to gain, when you are seeking comfort, shelter, security, and in that search for security, comfort, you make of doubt a fetter, an illusion to be banished and destroyed. A person who would live truly, understand life completely, must know doubt. Don't say, "Will there ever be an end to doubt?" Doubt will exist as long as you suffer, as long as you have not found out true values. To understand true values, you must begin to doubt, to be critical of the traditions, the authority, in which your mind has been trained. But this does not mean that your attitude must be one of unintelligent opposition. To me, doubt is a precious ointment. It heals the wounds of the sufferer. It has a benign influence. Understanding comes only when you doubt, not for the purpose of further acquisition or substitution, but to understand. Where there is the desire for gain, there is no longer doubt. Where there is the desire for gain, there is the acceptance of authority -whether it be the authority of one, of five, or of a million. Such authority encourages acceptance and calls doubt a fetter. Because you are continually seeking comfort, security, you find exploiters who assure you that doubt is a fetter, a thing to be banished. Question: You say that one cannot work for nationalism and at the same time for brotherhood. Do you mean to suggest that (1) we who are a subject nation and firmly believe in brotherhood should cease striving to become self-governing, or that (2) as long as we are attempting to rid ourselves of the foreign yoke we should cease to work for brotherhood? Krishnamurti: Do not let us look at this question from the point of view of a subject nation or of an exploiting nation. When we call ourselves a subject nation, we are creating an exploiter. Let us not look at the question in this way for the moment. To me, the solution of an immediate problem is not the point, for if we fully understand the ultimate purpose toward which we are working, then in working for that purpose we solve the immediate problem without great difficulty. Now please follow what I am going to say; it may be new to you, but don't reject it for that reason. I know that most of you are nationalists and that at the same time you are supposed to be for brotherhood. I know that you are trying to maintain the spirit of nationalism and the spirit of brotherhood at the same time. But please put this nationalistic attitude aside for the moment, and look at the question from another point of view. The ultimate solution of the problem of employment and of starvation, is world or human unity. You say that there are millions of people starving and suffering in India, and that if you can get rid of the English, you will find ways and means to satisfy the starving people. But I say, don't tackle the problem from this point of view. Don't consider the immediate sufferings of India, but consider the whole question of the starving millions in the world. Millions of Chinese are dying from lack of food. Why don't you think of these? "No, no", you say, "my first duty is at home." That is also what the Chinese say, "My first duty is at home." It is what the English, the Germans, the Italians proclaim; it is what every nationalist maintains. But I say, don't look at the problem from this point of view - I won't call it either a narrow or a broad point of view. I say, consider the whole cause of starvation throughout the world, not why a particular people have not sufficient food. What causes starvation? Lack of organized planning for the whole of mankind. Isn't that so? There is enough food. There are some excellent methods which can be used for the distribution of food and clothes, and for the employment of man. There is enough of all things. Then what prevents our making intelligent use of these things? Class distinctions, national distinctions, religious and sectarian distinctions - all these prevent intelligent co-operation. At heart each one of you is striving for gain; each is ruled by the possessive instinct. That is why you ruthlessly accumulate, you bequeath your possessions to your families, and this has become a bane to the world. As long as this spirit exists, no intelligent system will work satisfactorily because there are not enough intelligent people to use it wisely. When you talk of nationalism you mean, "My country, my family, and myself first." Through nationalism you can never come to human unity, to world unity. The absurdity and cruelty of nationalism is beyond doubt, but the exploiters use nationalism to their own ends. Those of you who talk of brotherhood are generally nationalistic at heart. What does brotherhood mean as an idea or a reality? How can you really have the feeling of brotherly love in your hearts when you hold a certain set of dogmatic beliefs, when you have religious distinctions? And that is what you are doing in your various societies, in your various groups. Are you acting in accord with the spirit of brotherhood when there are these distinctions? How can you know that spirit when you are class-minded? How can there be unity or brotherhood when you think only in terms of your family, of your nationality, of your God? As long as you are trying to solve merely the immediate problem - here, the problem of starvation in India - you are faced with insurmountable difficulties. There is no process, no system, no revolution that can alter that condition at once. Getting rid of the English immediately, or substituting a brown bureaucracy for a white bureaucracy, will not feed the starving millions in India. Starvation will exist as long as there is exploitation. And you, individually, are involved in this exploitation, in your craving for power, which creates distinctions, in your desire for individual security, spiritual as well as physical. I say that as long as the spirit of exploitation exists, there will ever be starvation. Or, what may happen is this: You may be ruthlessly driven to accept another set of ideas, to adopt a new social order, whether you like it or not. At present it is the custom - and it is recognized as legitimate - to exploit, to possess and to increase your possessions, to hold, to gather, to hoard up, to inherit. The more you have, the greater your power for exploitation. In recognition of your possessions, of your power, the government honours you, conferring titles and monopolies; you are called "Sir", you become a K.C.S.I., Rao Bahadur. This is what is happening in your material existence, and in your so-called spiritual life exactly the same condition exists. You are acquiring spiritual honours, spiritual titles; you enter into the spiritual distinctions of disciples, Masters, gurus. There is the same struggle for power, the same possessiveness, the same appalling cruelty of exploitation through religious systems and their exploiters, the priests. And this is thought to be spiritual, moral. You are slaves to this present existing system. Now another system is springing up, called communistic. This system is inevitably making its appearance because those who possess are so inhuman, so ruthless in their exploitation, that those who feel the cruelty and the ugliness of it must find some way of resistance. So they are beginning to awake, to revolt, and they will sweep you into their system of thought because you are inhuman. (Laughter) No, don't laugh. You don't realize the appalling cruelty brought about by your petty systems of possession. A new system is coming, and whether you like it or not, you will be dispossessed; you will be driven like sheep towards non-possession, as you are now being driven towards possession. In that system honour goes to those who are not possessive. You will be slaves to that new system as you are slaves to the old. One forces you to possess, the other not to possess. Perhaps the new system will benefit the multitudes, the masses of people; but if you are forced, individually, to accept it, then creative thought ceases. So I say, act voluntarily, with understanding. Be free from possessiveness as well as its opposite, non-possessiveness. But you have lost all sense of true feeling. That is why you are struggling for nationalism - yet you are not concerned with the many implications of nationalism. When you are occupied with class distinctions, when you are fighting to keep what you have, you are really being exploited individually and collectively, and this exploitation will inevitably lead to war. Isn't that blatantly obvious in Europe now? Every nation continues the piling up of armaments, and yet talks of peace and attends disarmament conferences. (Laughter) You are doing exactly the same thing in another way. You talk about brotherhood, and yet you hold to caste distinctions; religious prejudices divide you; social customs have become cruel barriers. By your beliefs, ideals, prejudices, the unity of man is ever being broken up. How can you talk of brotherhood when you do not feel it in your hearts, when your actions are opposed to the unity of man, when you are constantly pursuing your own self-expansion, your own self-glorification? If you were not pursuing your own selfish ends, do you mean to say that you would belong to organizations which promise you spiritual and temporal rewards? That is what your religions, your selective groups, your governments are doing, and you belong to them for your own self-expansion, your own self-glorification. If you become intelligent about this whole question of nationalism, if you give it real thought and so act truly with regard to it, you can create a world unity which will be the only real solution for the immediate problem of starvation. But it is hard for you to think along these lines because you have been trained for years to think along the nationalistic groove. Your histories, your magazines, your newspapers all emphasize nationalism. You are trained by your political exploiters not to listen to anyone who calls nationalism a disease, anyone who says that it is not a means to world unity. But you must not separate the means from the end; the end is directly connected with the means; it is not distinct from it. The end is world unity, an organized plan for the whole, though this does not mean equalization of individuality. Yet a lifeless, mechanical equalization will come about if you do not act voluntarily, intelligently. I wonder how many of you feel the urgency, the necessity of these things? The end is human unity, of which you talk so much; but you merely talk without willing and intelligent action; you don't feel, and your actions deny your words. The end is human unity, an organized planning for the whole of man, not the conditioning of man. The purpose is not to force man to think in any one particular direction, but to help him to be intelligent so that he shall live fully, creatively. But there must be organized planning for the well-being of man, and that can be brought about only when nationalism and class distinction, with their exploitation, no longer exist. Sirs, how many of you feel the great necessity of such action? I am well aware of your attitude. "Millions are starving in India", you say. "Isn't it important to tackle that problem immediately?" But what are you doing even about that? You talk about doing something, but what you really do is to argue and debate as to how your plans shall be organized, what system shall be adopted, and who shall be its leader. That is in your hearts. You are not really concerned with the starving millions throughout the world. That is why you talk of nationalism. If you tackled the problem as a whole, if you really felt for the whole of mankind, you would then see the immense necessity for a complete human action, which can come about only when you cease to talk in terms of nationalities, of classes, of religions. Question: Are you still inclined flatly to deny that you are the genuine product of Theosophical culture? Krishnamurti: What do you mean by Theosophical culture? You see how this question is connected with the previous one of nationalism. You ask, "Has not our society, our religion, our country brought you up?" And the next question follows, "Why are you ungrateful to us?" Intelligence is not the product of any society, though I know that societies and groups like to exploit it. If I agreed that I am the"genuine product of Theosophical culture", whatever that may mean, you would say, "See what a marvellous man he is! We have produced him; so follow us and our ideas." (Laughter) I know I am putting this crudely, but that is how many of you think. Don't laugh. You laugh too easily, you laugh superficially, showing that you don't feel vitally. I want you to consider why you ask me this question, not whether I am or am not the result of Theosophical culture. Culture is universal. True culture is infinite; it does not belong to any one society, to any one nation, to any one religion. A true artist is neither Hindu nor Christian, American nor English, for an artist who is conditioned by tradition or by nationalism is not a true artist. So let us not discuss whether I am the result of Theosophical culture or whether I am not. Let us consider why you ask this question. That is more important. Because you are clinging to your particular beliefs, you say that your way is the only way, that it is better than all other ways. But I say that there is no way to truth. Only when you are free from this idea of paths which are but temperamental illusions, will you begin to think intelligently and creatively. Now I am not attacking your society. You have been kind enough to invite me to speak here, and I am not abusing that kindness. Your society is like thousands of other societies throughout the world, each holding to its own beliefs, each thinking, "Ours is the best way; our belief is right, and other beliefs are wrong." In the old days, people whose beliefs differed from the accepted orthodoxy were burned or tortured. Today we have become what we call tolerant; that is, we have become intellectualized. That is what tolerance amounts to. You ask me this question because you want to convince yourselves that your culture, your belief, is the best; you want to bring others to that belief, to that culture. Today Germany holds that it shall be a country only of Nordic peoples, that there shall be but one culture. You say exactly the same thing in a different way. You say, "Our beliefs will solve the problems of the world." And that is what the Buddhists and Muhammadans say; that is what the Roman Catholics and others say: "Our beliefs are the best; our institution is the most precious." Every sect and group believes in its own superiority, and from such beliefs spring schisms, quarrels and religious wars over things that do not matter a scrap. For a man who is living fully, completely, for a man who is truly cultured, beliefs are unnecessary. He is creative. He is truly creative, and that creativeness is not the outcome of a reaction to a belief. The truly cultured man is intelligent. In him there is no separation between his thought and his emotion, and therefore his actions are complete, harmonious. True culture is not nationalistic nor is it of any group. When you understand this, there will be the true spirit of brotherhood; you will no longer think in terms of Roman Catholicism or Protestantism, in terms of Hinduism or Theosophy. But you are so conscious of your possessions and your struggle for further acquisition that you cause distinctions, and from this there arise the exploiter and the exploited. Some of you, I know, have shut your minds against what I am saying and what I am going to say. It is obvious from your faces. Comment from the audience: We doubt you, that is all. Krishnamurti: It is perfectly right that you should doubt me. I am glad if you doubt. But you are not doubting. If you were really doubting, how could you ask me a question such as this, whether I am the result of Theosophical culture or not? Thought is not to be conditioned, shaped, yet I know that this is happening; but surely you cannot accept things as they are. You accept only when you are satisfied, contented. You do not accept when you are suffering. When you suffer you begin to question. So why should you not doubt? Have I not invited you from the beginning to examine, to challenge everything that I say, so that you will become intelligent, affectionate, human? Have you arrived at that intelligent understanding of life? I am asking you to question, to doubt, not only what I am saying, but also the past values and those in which you are now caught up. Doubt brings about lasting understanding; doubt is not an end in itself. What is true is revealed only through doubt, through questioning the many illusions, traditional values, ideals. Are you doing that? If you know you are sincerely doing this, then you will also know the enduring significance of doubt. Are the mind and heart freeing themselves from possessiveness? If you are truly awakened to the wisdom of doubt, the instinct of acquisitiveness should be completely destroyed, for that instinct is the cause of much misery. In that there is no love, but only chaos, conflict, sorrow. If you truly doubt, you will perceive the falsity of the instinct of possession. If you are critical, questioning, why do you cling to ceremonies? Now do not compare one ceremony with another in order to decide which is the better, but find out if ceremonies are worthwhile at all. If you say, "The ceremonies which I perform are very satisfying to me", then I have nothing more to say. Your statement merely shows that you do not know of doubt. You are only concerned with being satisfied. Ceremonies keep people apart, and each believer in them says, "Mine are the best. They have more spiritual power than others." This is what the members of every religion, of every religious sect or society maintain, and over these artificial distinctions there have been quarrels for generations. These ceremonies and such other thoughtless barriers have separated man from man. May I say something else? If you doubt, that is, if you desire greatly to find out, you must let go of those things which you hold so dearly. There cannot be true understanding by keeping what you have. You cannot say, "I shall hold on to this prejudice, to this belief, to this ceremony, and at the same time I shall examine what you say." How can you? Such an attitude is not one of doubt; it is not one of intelligent criticism. It shows that you are merely looking for a substitute. I am trying to help you to understand truly the completeness of life. I am not asking you to follow me. If you are satisfied with your life as it is, then continue it. But if you are not, then try what I am saying. Don't accept, but begin to be intelligently critical. To live completely you must be free from the perversions, the illusions in which you are held. To find out the lasting significance of ceremony, you must examine it critically, objectively, and to do this you must not be enticed into it, entangled in it. Surely this is obvious. Examine both the performance and the non-performance of ceremonies. Doubt, question, ponder over this profoundly. When you begin to relinquish the past, you will create conflict in yourself, and out of that conflict there must come action born of understanding. Now you are afraid to let go, because that act of relinquishment will bring turmoil; out of that act might come the decision that ceremonies are of no avail, which would go against your family, your friends, and your past assertions. There is fear behind all this, so you merely doubt intellectually. You are like the man who holds to all his possessions, to his ideas, his beliefs, his family, and yet talks about non-possession. His thought has nothing to do with his action. His life is hypocritical. Please don't think that I am talking harshly; I am not. But neither am I going to be sentimental or emotional in order to rouse you to action. In fact, I am not interested in rousing you to action; you will rouse yourself to action when you understand. I am interested in showing you what is happening in the world. I want to awaken you to the cruelty, to the appalling oppression, exploitation, that is about you. Religion, politics, society are exploiting you, and you are being conditioned by them; you are being forced in a particular direction. You are not human beings; you are mere cogs in a machine. You suffer patiently, submitting to the cruelties of environment, when you, individually, have the possibilities of changing them. Sirs, it is time to act. But action cannot take place through mere reasoning and discussions. Action takes place only when you feel intensely. True action takes place only when your thoughts and your feelings are harmoniously linked together. But you have divorced your feelings from your thoughts, because from their harmony, action must create conflict which you are unwilling to face. But I say, free yourself from the false values of society, of traditions; live completely, individually. By this I do not mean individualistically. When I talk about individuality, I mean by that the understanding of true values liberating you from the social, religious machine which is destroying you. To be truly individual, action must be born of creative intelligence, without fear, not caught up in illusion. You can do this. You can live completely - not only you, but the people about you - when you become creatively intelligent. But now you are out to gain, ever seeking for power. You are driven by enticements, by beliefs, by substitutes. In this there is no happiness, in this there is no creative intelligence, in this there is no truth. ADYAR 3RD PUBLIC TALK 31ST DECEMBER, 1933 If one can find an absolute guarantee of security, then one has fear of nothing. If one can be certain of anything, then fear ceases wholly, fear either of the present or of the future. Therefore we are always seeking security, consciously or unconsciously, security that eventually becomes our exclusive possession. Now there is physical security which, in the present state of civilization, a man can amass through his cunning, his cleverness, through exploitation. Physically he may thus make himself secure, while emotionally he turns for security to so-called love, which is for the most part possessiveness; he turns to the egoistic emotional distinctions of family, of friends, and of nationality. Then there is the constant search for mental security in ideas, in beliefs, in the pursuit of virtue, systems, certainties, and so-called knowledge. So we entrench ourselves continually; through possessiveness we build around ourselves securities, comforts, and try to feel assured, safe, certain. That is what we are constantly doing. But though we entrench ourselves behind the securities of knowledge, virtue, love, possession, though we build up many certainties, we are but building on sand, for the waves of life are constantly beating against their foundations, laying open the structures that we have so carefully and sedulously built. Experiences come, one after another, which destroy all previous knowledge, all previous certainties, and all our securities are swept away, scattered like chaff before the wind. So, though we may think that we are secure, we live in continual fear of death, fear of change and loss, fear of revolution, fear of gnawing uncertainty. We are constantly aware of the transiency of thought. We have built up innumerable walls behind which we seek security and comfort, but fear is still gnawing at our hearts and minds. So we continually look for substitution, and that substitution becomes our goal, our aim. We say, "This belief has proved to be of no value, so let me turn to another set of beliefs, another set of ideas, another philosophy." Our doubt ends merely in substitution, not in the questioning of belief itself. It is not doubt that questions, but the desire for securities. Hence your so-called search for truth becomes merely a search for more per- manent securities, and you accept as your teacher, your guide, anyone who offers to give you absolute security, certainty, comfort. That is how it is with most people. We want and we search. We try to analyze the substitutes which others suggest to take the place of the securities which we know and which are steadily being eaten away, corroded, by the experience of life. But fear cannot be got rid of by substitution, by removing one set of beliefs and replacing it by another. Only when we find out the true value of the beliefs that we hold, the lasting significance of our possessive instincts, our knowledge, the securities that we have built up, only in that understanding can we put an end to fear. Understanding comes not from seeking substitutes, but from questioning, from really coming into conflict with traditions, from doubting the established ideas of society, of religion, of politics. After all, the cause of fear is the ego and the consciousness of that ego, which is created by lack of understanding. Because of this lack of understanding we seek securities, and thereby strengthen that limited self-consciousness. Now as long as the ego exists, as long as there is consciousness of the "my", there must be fear; and this ego will exist as long as we desire substitutes, as long as we do not understand the things about us, the things that we have established, the very monuments of tradition, the habits, ideas, beliefs in which we take shelter. And we can understand these traditions and beliefs, find out their true significance, only when we come into conflict with them. We cannot understand them theoretically, intellectually, but only in the fullness of thought and emotion, which is action. To me, the ego represents the lack of perception which creates time. When you understand a fact completely, when you understand the experiences of life wholly, unreservedly, time ceases. But you cannot understand experience completely if you are constantly seeking certainty, comfort, if your mind is entrenched in security. To understand an experience in all its significance, you must question, you must doubt the securities, the traditions, the habits, which you have built up, for they prevent the completeness of understanding. Out of that questioning, out of that conflict, if that conflict is real, dawns understanding; and in that understanding, self-consciousness, limited consciousness, disappears. You must discover what you are seeking, security or understanding. If you are seeking security, you will find it in philosophy, in religions, traditions, authority; but if you desire to understand life, in which there is no security, comfort, then there is enduring free- dom. And you can discover what you are seeking only by being aware in action; you cannot find out by merely questioning action. When you question and analyze action, you put an end to action. But if you are aware, if you are intense in your action, if you give to it your whole mind and heart, then that action will reveal whether you are thereby seeking comfort, security, or that infinite understanding which is the eternal movement of life. Question: In her Autobiography Dr. Besant has said that she entered from storm into peace for the first time in her life when she met her great Master. Her magnificent life from then onwards had its motive power in her unstinted and ceaseless devotion to her Master, expressed through the joy of service to him. You yourself, in your poetic words, have declared your inexpressible joy in the union with the Beloved and in seeing his face wherever you turned. Could not the influence of a Master, such as was evident in the great life of Dr. Besant and in your own, be equally significant in other lives? Krishnamurti: You are asking me, in other words, whether Masters are necessary, whether I believe in Masters, whether their influence is beneficial, and whether they exist. That is the whole question, is it not? Very well, sirs. Now whether or not you believe in Masters (and some of you do believe in them), please don't close your minds against what I am going to say. Be open, critical. Let us examine the question comprehensively, rather than discuss whether you or I believe in Masters. First of all, to understand truth you must stand alone, entirely and wholly alone. No Master, no teacher, no guru, no system, no self-discipline will ever lift for you the veil which conceals wisdom. Wisdom is the understanding of enduring values and the living of those values. No one can lead you to wisdom. That is obvious, isn't it? We need not even discuss it. No one can force you, no system can urge you to free yourself from the instinct of possessiveness until you yourself voluntarily understand, and in that understanding there is wisdom. No Master, no guru, no teacher, no system can force you to that understanding. Only the suffering that you yourself experience can make you see the absurdity of possession from which arises conflict; and out of that suffering comes understanding. But when you seek escape from that suffering, when you seek shelter, comfort, then you must have Masters, you must have philosophy and belief; then you turn to such refuges of safety as religion. So with this understanding I am going to answer your question. Let us forget for the moment what Dr. Besant has said and done, or what I have said and done. Let us leave that aside. Don't bring Dr. Besant into the discussion; if you do, you will react emotionally, those of you who are in sympathy with her ideas, and those of you who are not. You will say that she has brought me up, that I am disloyal, and such words which you use to show your disapproval. Let us put aside all this for the present and look at the question quite plainly and simply. First of all, you want to know whether Masters exist. I say that whether they exist or not is of very little importance. Now please do not think that I am attacking your beliefs. I realize that I am speaking to members of the Theosophical Society, and that I am your guest here. But you have asked me a question, and I am simply answering it. So let us consider why you want to know whether or not Masters exist. "Because", you say to yourselves, "Masters can guide us through the turmoil as a beacon from the lighthouse guides the mariner." But your saying that shows that you are merely seeking a harbour of safety, that you are afraid of the open sea of life. Or, again, you may ask the question because you want to strengthen your belief; you want substantiation, corroboration of your belief. Sirs, a thing that is a toy, though made beautiful by the corroboration of thousands of people, remains a toy. You say to me, "Our teachers have given us faith, but now you come to cast doubt on that faith. Therefore we want to know whether Masters exist or not. Please strengthen us in our belief that they exist; tell us whether or not you yourself were guided by them." If you merely desire to be strengthened in your faith, then I cannot answer your question because I don't hold with faith. Faith is mere authority, blindness, hope, longing; it is a means of exploitation, whether here or in the Roman Catholic Church, or in any other religion. It is a means of forcing man to action, to righteous or unrighteous action. Strengthening of faith does not yield understanding: rather, the very doubting of that faith and the finding out of its significance brings understanding. What difference would it make if you were to see the Masters physically every day? You would still hold to your prejudices, your traditions, your habits; you would still be slaves to your cruelties, your bigoted, narrow beliefs, your lack of love, your pride in nationality, but these you would keep secretly under lock and key. Then out of the first question arises a second:Do you doubt the messengers of the Masters?" I doubt everything, for it is only through doubt that one can discover, not through the placing of one's faith in something. But you have carefully, sedulously avoided doubt; you have discarded it as a fetter. Then again you will say, "If I come in contact with the Masters, I can find out their plan for humanity." Do you mean a social plan, a plan for the physical welfare of man? Or do you refer to the spiritual welfare of man? If you reply, "Both", then I say that man cannot attain spiritual welfare through the agency of someone else. That lies entirely in his own hands. No one can plan that for another. Each man must find out for himself, he must understand; there is completeness in fulfillment, not in progress. But if you say, "We seek a plan for the physical welfare of man", then you must study economics and sociology. Then why not make Harold Laski your master, or Keynes, or Marx or Lenin? Each of these offers a plan for the welfare of man. But you don't want that. What you want, when you seek Masters, is shelter, a refuge of safety; you want to protect yourself from suffering, hide yourself from turmoil and conflict. I say that there is no such thing as shelter, comfort. You can make only an artificial shelter, intellectually created. Because you have done this for generations, you have lost your creative intelligence. You have become authority-bound, crippled with beliefs, with false traditions and habits. Your hearts are dry, hard. That is why you support all manner of cruel systems of thought, leading to exploitation. That is why you encourage nationalism, why you lack brotherhood. You talk of brotherhood, but your words are meaningless as long as your hearts are bound by class distinctions. You who believe so profoundly in all these ideas, what have you, what are you? Empty shells resounding with words, words, words. You have lost all sense of feeling for beauty, for love; you support false institutions, false ideas. Those of you who believe in Masters and are following the system of these Masters, their plan, their messengers, what are you? In your exploitation, your nationalism, your ill-treatment of women and children, your acquisitiveness, you are just as cruel as the man who does not believe in Masters, in their plan, in their messengers. You have simply instituted new traditions for the old, new beliefs for the old; your nationalism is as cruel as of old, only you have more subtle arguments for your cruelties and exploitation. As long as mind is caught up in belief, there is no understanding, there is no freedom. So to me, whether or not Masters exist is quite irrelevant to action, to fulfillment, with which we should concern ourselves. Even though their existence be a fact, it is of no importance; for to understand you must be independent, you must stand by yourself, completely naked, stripped of all security. This is what I said in my introductory talk. You must find out whether you are seeking security, comfort, or whether you are seeking understanding. If you really examine your own hearts, most of you will find that you are seeking security, comfort, places of safety, and in that search you provide yourselves with philosophies, gurus, systems of self-discipline; thus you are thwarting, continually narrowing down thought. In your efforts to escape from fear, you are entrenching yourselves in beliefs, and thereby increasing your own self-consciousness, your own egotism; you have merely grown more subtle, more cunning. I know that I have said all these things previously in a different way, but apparently my words have had no effect. Either you want to understand what I say, or you are satisfied with your own beliefs and miseries. If you are satisfied with them, why have you invited me to talk here? Why do you listen to me? No, fundamentally you are not satisfied. You may profess to be satisfied; you may join institutions, perform new ceremonies, but inwardly you feel an uncertainty, a ceaseless gnawing that you never dare to face. Instead, you seek substitutes; you want to know whether I can give you new shelters, and that is why you have asked me this question. You want me to support you in those beliefs of which you are uncertain. You want inward stability, but I tell you that there is no such stability. You want me to give you certainties, assurances. I say that you have such certainties, such assurances by the hundred in your books, in your philosophies, but they are worthless to you; they are dust and ashes because in your own selves there is no understanding. You can have understanding, I assure you, only when you begin to doubt, when you begin to question the very shelters in which you are taking comfort, in which you are taking refuge. But this means that you must come into conflict with the traditions and habits that you have set up. Perhaps you have discarded old traditions, old gurus, old ceremonies, and have taken on new ones. What is the difference? The new traditions, gurus, ceremonies are just the same as the old, except that they are more exclusive. By constantly questioning you will find out the real, the inherent value of traditions, gurus, ceremonies. I am not asking you to abandon ceremonies, to cease following the Masters. That is a very minor and unintelligent point; whether you perform ceremonies or look to Masters for guidance is not important. But as long as there is lack of understanding there is fear, there is sorrow, and the mere attempt to cover up that fear, that sorrow, through ceremonies, through the guidance of Masters, will not free you. You have asked me this question before; you asked me the same question last year. And each time you ask it because you want to take shelter behind my answer; you want to feel safe, to put an end to doubt. Now I may contradict your belief; I may say that there are no Masters. Then another comes to tell you that Masters do exist. I say, doubt both answers, question both; don't merely accept them. You are not children, monkeys imitating someone else's action; you are human beings, not to be conditioned by fear. You are supposed to be creatively intelligent, but how can you be creatively intelligent if you follow a teacher, a philosophy, a practice, a system of self-discipline? Life is rich only to the man who is in the constant movement of thought, to the man whose actions are harmonious. In him there is affection, there is consideration. He whose actions are harmonious will utilize an intelligent system to heal the festering wounds of the world. I know that what I am saying today I have said innumerable times; I have said it again and again. But you don't feel these things because you have explained away your suffering, and in these explanations, beliefs, you are taking shelter, comfort. You are concerned only with yourselves, with your own security, comfort, like men who struggle for government titles. You do the same thing in different ways, and your words of brotherhood, of truth, mean nothing; they are but empty talk. Question: The one regret of Dr. Besant is said to have been the fact that you failed to rise to her expectations of you as the World Teacher. Some of us frankly share that regret and that sense of disappointment, and feel that it is not altogether without some justification. Have you anything to say? Krishnamurti: Nothing, sirs. (Laughter) When I say "Nothing", I mean nothing to relieve your disappointment or Dr. Besant's disappointment - if she were disappointed, for she often expressed to me the contrary. I am not here to justify myself; I am not interested in justifying myself. The question is, why are you disappointed, if you are? You had thought to put me in a certain cage, and since I did not fit into that cage, naturally you were disappointed. You had a preconceived idea of what I should do, what I should say, what I should think. I say that there is immortality, an eternal becoming. The point is not that I know, but that it is. Beware of the man who says, "I know." Ever becoming life exists, but to realize that, your mind must be free of all preconceived ideas of what it is. You have preconceived ideas of God, of immortality, of life. "This is written in books", you say, or, "Someone has told me this." Thus you have built an image of truth, you have pictured God and immortality. You want to hold to that image, that picture, and you are disappointed in anyone whose idea differs from yours, anyone whose ideas do not conform to yours. In other words, if he does not become your tool, you are disappointed in him. If he does not exploit you - and you create the exploiter in your desire for security - then you are disappointed in him. Your disappointment is based not on thought, not on intelligence, not on deep affection, but on some image of your own making, however false it may be. You will find people who will tell you that I have disappointed them, and they will create a body of opinion holding that I have failed. But in a hundred years' time I don't think it will matter much whether you are disappointed or not. Truth, of which I speak, will remain - not your fantasies or your disappointments. Question: Do you consider it a sin for a man or a woman to enjoy illegitimate sexual intercourse. A young man wants to get rid of such illegitimate happiness which he considers wrong. He tries continually to control his mind but does not succeed. Can you show him any practical way to be happy? Krishnamurti: In such things there is no"practical way." But let us consider the question; let us try to understand it, though not from the point of view of whether a certain act is a sin or not a sin. To me there is no such thing as sin. Why has sex become a problem in our life? Why are there so many distortions, perversions, inhibitions, suppressions? Is it not because we are starving mentally and emotionally, we are incomplete in ourselves, we have but become imitative machines, and the only creative expression left to us, the only thing in which we can find happiness, is the thing which we call sex? As individuals we have mentally and emotionally ceased to be. We are mere machines in society, in politics, in religion. We as individuals have been utterly, ruthlessly destroyed through fear, through imitation, through authority. We have not released our creative intelligence through social, political and religious channels. Therefore the only creative expression left to us as individuals is sex, and to that we naturally assign tremendous importance, on that we place tremendous emphasis. That is why sex has become a problem, isn't it? If you can release creative thought, creative emotion, then sex will no longer be a problem. To release that creative intelligence completely, wholly, you must question the very habit of thought, you must question the very tradition in which you are living, those very beliefs that have become automatic, spontaneous, instinctive. Through questioning you come into conflict, and that conflict and the understanding of it will awaken creative intelligence; in that questioning you will gradually release creative thought from imitation, from authority, from fear. That is one side of the question. There is also another side to this question, which concerns food and exercise, and love of the work that you do. You have lost the love of your work. You have become clerks, slaves to a system, working for fifteen rupees or ten thousand rupees, not for the love of what you are doing. With regard to illegitimate sexual intercourse, let us first consider what you mean by marriage. In most cases marriage is but the sanctification of possessiveness, by religion and by law. Suppose that you love a woman; you want to live with her, to possess her. Now society has innumerable laws to help you to possess, and various ceremonies which sanctify this possessiveness. An act that you would have considered sinful before marriage, you consider lawful after that ceremony. That is, before the law legalizes and religion sanctifies your possessiveness, you consider the act of intercourse illegal, sinful. Where there is love, true love, there is no question of sin, of legality or illegality. But unless you really think deeply about this, unless you make a real effort not to misunderstand what I have said, it will lead to all kinds of confusion. We are afraid of many things. To me the cessation of sex problems lies not in mere legislation, but in releasing that creative intelligence, in being complete in action, not separating mind and heart. The problem disappears only in living completely, wholly. As I have been trying to make clear, you cannot cultivate nationalism and at the same time talk of brotherhood. I think it was Hitler who banished the idea of brotherhood from Germany because, he said, it was antagonistic to nationalism. But here you are trying to cultivate both. At heart you are nationalistic, possessive; you have class distinctions, and yet you talk about universal brotherhood, about world peace, about the unity and the oneness of life. As long as your action is divided, as long as there is no intimate connection between thinking, feeling, and action, and the full awareness of that intimate connection, there will be innumerable problems which take such predominance in your lives that they become a constant source of decay. Question: What you say as to the necessity for freedom from all conformity, from all leadership and authority, is a useful teaching for some of us. But society and perhaps even religion, together with their institutions and a wise government, are essential for the vast majority of mankind and hence useful to them. I speak from years of experience. Do you disagree with this view? Krishnamurti: What is poison to you is poison to another. If religious belief, if authority is false to you, it is false to everyone else. When you consider man as the questioner regards him, then you retain and cultivate a slavish mentality in him. That is what I call exploitation. That is the acquisitive or capitalistic attitude: "What is beneficial and useful for me is dangerous for you." So you keep as slaves those who are bound to authority, to religious beliefs. You do not bring into being new organizations, new institutions, to help these slaves to free themselves and not become slaves again to the new organizations and institutions. Now I am not opposed to organizations, but I hold that no organization can lead man to truth. Yet all religious societies, sects, and groups are based on the idea that man can be guided to truth. Organizations should exist for the welfare of man, organizations not divided by nationalities, by class distinctions. This is the ultimate thing that will solve the immediate problem that confronts each people, the problem of exploitation, the problem of starvation. You may insist that, as people are, they must be subjected to authority. But if you perceive that authority is perverting, crippling, then you will combat authority; you will discover new methods of education that will help man to free himself, without this curse of distinction. But when you look at life from a narrow, selfish, bigoted point of view, you inevitably ask such a question as this; you ask it because you are afraid that those over whom you have authority will no longer obey you. This consideration for the mass, for the many, is very superficial, false; it springs from fear, and must inevitably lead to exploitation. But if you truly perceived the significance of authority, of conforming to tradition, of shaping yourself after a pattern, of conditioning your mind and heart by a principle or ideal, then you would intelligently help man to free himself from them. Then you would see their shallowness and their degenerating effect, not only upon yourself or upon a few men, but upon the whole of mankind. Thereby you would help to release the creative power in man, whether in yourself or in someone else; you would no longer maintain this artificial distinction between man and man, as high and low, evolved and unevolved. But this does not mean that there is or that there will be equality; there is no such thing. There is only man in fulfillment. But the mind that creates distinction because it thinks of itself as separate is an exploiting mind, is a cruel mind, and against such a mind intelligence must ever be in revolt. ADYAR 4TH PUBLIC TALK 1ST JANUARY, 1934 Krishnamurti was garlanded by a member of the audience who wished him a happy new year. Krishnamurti: Thank you. I had forgotten that it is a new year. I wish you all a happy new year too. In my brief talk this morning I want to explain how one may discover for oneself what is true satisfaction. Most people in the world are caught up in some kind of dissatisfaction, and they are constantly seeking satisfaction. That is, their search for satisfaction is a search for an opposite. Now dissatisfaction, discontent, arises from the feeling of emptiness, the feeling of loneliness, of boredom, and when you have this dissatisfaction you seek to fill the void, the emptiness in your life. When you are dissatisfied you are constantly seeking something to replace that which causes dissatisfaction, something to serve as a substitute, something that will give you satisfaction. You look to a series of achievements, a series of successes, to fill the aching void in your mind and in your heart. That is what most of you are trying to do. If there is fear, you seek courage which you hope will give you contentment, happiness. In this search for the opposite, profound feelings are gradually being destroyed. You are becoming more and more superficial, more and more empty, because your whole conception of satisfaction, happiness, is one of substitution. The longing, the hunger of most people is for the opposite. In your hunger for attainment you pursue spiritual ideals, or you seek to have worldly titles conferred upon you, and both amount to exactly the same thing. Let us take an example which may perhaps make the matter clearer; though, for the most part, examples are confusing and disastrous to understanding, for they give no clear perception of the abstract, from which alone can one come to the practical. Suppose that I desire something, and that through my endeavours I finally possess it. But this possession does not give me the satisfaction that I had hoped for; it does not give me lasting happiness. So I change my desire to something else, and I possess that. But even this new thing does not give me permanent satisfaction. Then I look to affection, to friendship; then to ideas, and finally I turn to the search for truth or God. This gradual process of the change of the objects of desire is called evolution, growth towards perfection. But if you will really think about it, you will see that this process is nothing more than the progress of satisfaction, and therefore an ever increasing emptiness, shallowness. If you consider, you will see that this is the substance of your lives. There is no joy in your work, in your environment; you are afraid, you are envious of the possessions of others. From that there arises struggle, and from that struggle comes discontent. Then, to overcome that discontent, to find satisfaction, you turn to the opposite. In the same way, when you change your desire from the so-called transient, the unessential, to the permanent, the essential, what you have done is you have merely changed the object of your satisfaction, the object of your gain. First it was a concrete thing, and now it is truth. You have merely changed the object of your desires;thereby becoming more superficial, more vain, more empty. Life has become unsatisfactory, shallow, transient. I don't know whether you agree or disagree with what I am saying, but if you are willing to think about it, to discuss and question it, you will see that your hunger for truth, as I have been trying to explain during these talks, is merely the desire for gratification, satisfaction, the longing for safety, for security. In that hunger there is never reality. That hunger is superficial, passive; it results in nothing else but cunning, emptiness, and unquestioning belief. There is a true hunger, a true longing; it is not the desire for an opposite, but the desire to understand the cause of the very thing in which one is caught up. Now you are constantly seeking opposites: when you are afraid you seek courage as a substitute for fear, but that substitute does not really free you from fear. Fundamentally you are still afraid; you have merely covered that basic fear with the idea of courage. The man who pursues courage, or any other virtue, is acting superficially, whereas if he tried to understand intelligently this pursuit of courage, he would be led to the discovery of the very cause of fear, which would set him free from fear as well as from its opposite. And that is not a negative state: it is the only dynamic, positive way of living. What, for instance, is your immediate concern when you have physical pain? You want immediate relief, don't you? You are not thinking of the moment when you felt no pain, or of the moment when you will have no pain. You are concerned only with the immediate relief from that pain. You are seeking the opposite. You are so consumed with that pain that you want to be free from it. The same attitude exists when your whole being is consumed with fear. When such fear arises, do not run away from it. Deal with it completely, with all your being, do not try to develop courage. Then only will you understand its fundamental cause, thereby freeing the mind and heart from fear. Modern civilization has helped to train your mind and heart not to feel intensely. Society, education, religion have encouraged you toward success, have given you hope in gain. And in this process of success and gain, in this process of achievement and spiritual growth, you have sedulously, carefully destroyed intelligence, depth of feeling. When you are really suffering, as when someone dies whom you really love, what is your reaction? You are so caught up in your emotions, in your sufferings, that for the moment you are paralysed with pain. And then what happens? You long to have your friend back again. So you pursue all the ways and means of reaching that person. The study of the hereafter, the belief in reincarnation, the use of mediums - all these you pursue in order to get into contact with the friend whom you have lost. So what has happened? The acuteness of mind and heart which you felt in your sorrow has become dull, has died. Please try to follow intelligently what I am saying. Even though you may believe in the hereafter, please do not close your mind and heart against what I have to say. You desire to have the friend whom you have lost. Now that very want destroys the acuteness, the fullness of perception. For, after all, what is suffering? Suffering is a shock to awaken you, to help you to understand life. When you experience death, you feel utter loneliness, the loss of support; you are like the man who has been deprived of his crutches. But if you immediately seek crutches again in the shape of comfort, companionship, security, you deprive the shock of its significance. Another shock comes, and again you go through the same process. Thus, though you have many experiences during your life, shocks of suffering that should awaken your intelligence, your understanding, you gradually dull those shocks by your desire and pursuit after comfort. Thus you use the idea of reincarnation, belief in the hereafter, as a kind of drug or dope. In your turning to this idea there is no intelligence. You are merely seeking an escape from suffering, a relief from pain. When you talk about reincarnation you are not helping another to understand truly the cause of pain; you are not helping him to free himself from sorrow. You are only giving him a means of escape. If another accepts the comfort, the escape which you offer him, his feelings become shallow, empty, for he takes shelter in the idea of reincarnation. Because of this placid assurance that you have given him, he no longer feels deeply when someone dies, for he has dulled his feelings, he has deadened his thoughts. So in this search for contentment, comfort, your thoughts and feelings become shallow, barren, trivial, and life becomes an empty shell. But if you see the absurdity of substitution and perceive the illusion of contentment, with its achievement, then there is great depth to thought and feeling; then action itself reveals the significance of life. Question: There are many systems of meditation and self-discipline adapted to varying temperaments, and all of them are intended to cultivate and sharpen the mind or emotions, or both; for the usefulness and value of an instrument is great or small according to whether it is sharp or blunt. Now: (1) Do you think that all these systems are alike futile and harmful without exception? (2) How would you deal with the temperamental differences of human beings? (3) What value has meditation of the heart to you? Krishnamurti: Let us differentiate between concentration and meditation. Now when you talk of meditation, most of you mean the mere learning of the trick of concentration. But concentration does not lead to the joy of meditation. Consider what happens in what you call meditation, which is merely the process of training the mind to concentrate on a particular object or idea. You exclude from your mind all other thoughts or images except the one which you have deliberately chosen; you try to focus your mind on that one idea, picture, or word. Now that is merely contraction of thought, limitation of thought. When other thoughts arise during this process of contraction, you dismiss them, you brush them aside. So your mind becomes more and more narrow, less and less elastic, less and less free. Why do you want to concentrate? Because you see an enticement, a reward, awaiting you as the result of concentration. You want to become a disciple, you want to find the Master, you want to develop spiritually, you want to understand truth. So your concentration becomes utterly destructive of thought and emotion because you consider meditation, concentration, in terms of gain, in terms of escape from turmoil. Just think about it for a moment, those of you who have practised meditation, concentration, for years. You have been forcing your mind to adjust itself to a particular pattern, to conform itself to a particular image or idea, to shape itself according to a particular idiosyncrasy or prejudice. Now, all beliefs, ideals, idiosyncrasies depend on personal like and dislike. Your self-discipline, your so-called meditation, is merely a process by which you try to obtain something in return. And this assurance of something in return, this looking for a reward, also accounts for the large membership of churches and religious societies: these institutions promise a reward, a recompense to their followers who faithfully adhere to their discipline. Where there is control, there is no meditation of the heart. When you are searching with an eye to gain, to recompense, your search has already ended. Take, for instance, the case of a scientist, a great scientist, not a pseudo-scientist. A true scientist is continually experimenting without seeking results. In his search there are what we call results, but he is not bound by these results, for he is constantly experimenting. In that very movement of experiment he finds joy. That is true meditation. Meditation is not the seeking for a result, a by-product. Such a result is merely incidental, an outward expression of that great search which is ecstatic, eternal. Now instead of banishing each thought that arises, as you do when you practise so-called meditation, try to understand and live in the significance of each thought as it comes to you; do this not at a particular period, at a particular hour or moment of the day, but throughout the day, continuously. In that awareness you will understand the cause of each thought and its significance. That awareness will release the mind from opposites, from pettiness, shallowness; in that awareness there is freedom, completeness of thought. It is in eternal movement, without limitation, and in that there is the true joy of meditation; in that there is living peace. But when you seek a result, your meditation becomes shallow, empty, as is shown by your acts. Many of you have meditated for years. What has it availed you? You have banished your thought from your action. In temples, in shrines, in chapels of meditation you have filled your minds with the supposed image of truth, God, but when you go out into the world, your actions exhibit nothing of those qualities which you are trying to attain. Your actions are quite the opposite; they are cruel, exploiting, possessive, destructive. So in this search for reward, recompense, you have differentiated between thought and action, you have made a division between the two, and your so-called meditation is empty, without depth, without profundity of feeling or greatness of thought. If you are constantly aware, fully aware as each thought and emotion arises, in that flame your action will be the harmonious outcome of thought and feeling. That is the joy, the peace of true meditation, not this process of self-discipline, twisting, training the mind to conform to a particular attitude. Such discipline, such distortion, means only decay, boredom, routine, death. Question: During the Theosophical Convention last week several leaders and admirers of Dr. Besant spoke, paying her high tributes. What is your tribute to and your opinion of that great figure who was a mother and friend to you? What was her attitude toward you through the many years of her guardianship of you and your brother, and also subsequently? Are you not grateful to her for her guidance, training, and care? Krishnamurti: Mr. Warrington kindly asked me to speak about this matter, but I told him that I did not want to. Now don't condemn me by using such words as "guardianship", "gratitude", and so on. Sirs, what can I say? Dr. Besant was our mother, she looked after us, she cared for us. But one thing she did not do. She never said to me, "Do this", or "Don't do that." She left me alone. Well, in these words I have paid her the greatest tribute. (Cheers) You know, followers destroy leaders, and you have destroyed yours. In your following of a leader, you exploit that leader; in your use of Dr. Besant's name so constantly you are merely exploiting her. You are exploiting her and other teachers. The greatest disservice you can ever do to a leader is to follow that leader. I know you wisely nod your heads in approval. Let me but quote her name and sanctify her memory, and I can exploit you because you want to be exploited; you want to be used as instruments, for that is easier than thinking for yourselves. You are all cogs, parts of machines, being used by exploiters. Religions use you in the name of God, society uses you in the name of law, politicians and educators use and exploit you. So-called religious teachers and guides exploit you in the name of ceremonies, in the name of Masters. I am merely awakening you to these facts. You can do about them what you will: with that I am not concerned, because I don't belong to any society, and I shall probably not come here again. Comment from the audience: But we want you to come. Krishnamurti: Please don't get sentimental about this. Probably some of you will be glad that I shall not come again. Comment: No. Krishnamurti: Wait a moment, please. I don't want you to ask me or not to ask me to return. That doesn't matter at all. Sirs, these two things are wholly different: what you are thinking and doing, and what I am talking and doing. The two cannot combine. Your whole system is based on exploitation, on the following of authority, on the belief in religion and faith. Not only your system, but the systems of the entire world. I cannot help those of you who are content with this system. I want to help those who are eager to break away, to understand. Naturally you will eject me, for I am opposed to all that you hold dear, sacred and worth while. But your rejection will not matter to me. I am not attached to this or any place. I repeat, what you are doing and what I am doing are two totally different things that have nothing in common. But I was answering the question about Dr. A. Besant. Human mind is lazy, lethargic. It has been so dulled by authority, so shaped, controlled, conditioned, that it cannot stand by itself. But to stand by oneself is the only way to understand truth. Now are you really, fundamentally interested in understanding truth? No, most of you are not. You are only interested in supporting the system that you now hold, in finding substitutes, in seeking comfort and security; and in that search you are exploiting others and being exploited yourselves. In that there is no happiness, no richness, no fullness. Because you follow this way of life you have to choose. When you base your life either on the authority of the past or the hope of the future, when you guide your actions by the past greatness or the past ideas of a leader, you are not living; you are merely imitating, acting as a cog in a machine. And woe to such a person! For him life holds no happiness, no richness, but only shallowness, emptiness. This seems so clear to me that I am surprised that the question arises again and again. Question: You have spoken in clear terms on the subject of the existence of Masters and the value of ceremonies. May I ask you a straightforward question? Are you disclosing to us your own genuine point of view without any mental reservation? Or is the ruthless manner of the presentation of your view merely a test of our devotion to the Masters and our loyalty to the Theosophical Society to which we belong? Please state your answer frankly, even though it may be hurtful to some of us. Krishnamurti: What do you think I am? I have not given you a momentary reaction, I have told you what I really think. If you wish to use that as a test to fortify yourselves, to entrench yourselves in your old beliefs, I cannot help it. I have told you what I think, frankly, straightly, without dissimulation. I am not trying to make you act in one way or another, I am not trying to entice you into any society or into a particular form of thought, I don't dangle a reward in front of you. I have told you frankly that Masters are unessential, that the idea of Masters is nothing more than a toy to the man who really seeks truth. I am not trying to attack your beliefs, I realize that I am a guest here; this is merely my frank opinion, as I have stated it over and over again. I hold that where there is unrighteousness there are ceremonies, whether it be in Mylapore or in Rome or here. But why discuss this matter any longer? You know my point of view, as I have stated it repeatedly. I have given you my reasons for my opinion regarding Masters and ceremonies. But because you want Masters, because you like to perform ceremonies, because such performance gives you a certain sense of authority, of security, of exclusiveness, you continue in your practices. You continue them with blind faith, blind acceptance, without reason, without real thought or emotion behind your acts. But in that way you will never understand truth; you will never know the cessation of sorrow. You may find forgetfulness, oblivion, but you will never discover the root, the cause of sorrow and be free from it. Question: You rightly condemn a hypocritical attitude of mind and such feelings and actions as are born from it. But since you say that you do not judge us, but somehow seem to regard the attitude of some of us as hypocritical, can you say what it is that gives you such an impression? Krishnamurti: Very simple. You talk about brotherhood, and yet you are nationalists. I call that hypocrisy, because nationalism and brotherhood cannot exist together. Again, you talk about the unity of man, talk about it theoretically, and yet you have your particular religions, your particular prejudices, your class distinctions. I call that hypocrisy. Or again, you turn to self-glorification, subtle self-glorification, instead of what you call the gross self-glorification of the men of the world who seek distinctions, concessions, government honours. You also are men of the world, and your self-glorification is just the same, only a little more subtle. You, with your distinctions, your secret meetings, your exclusiveness, are also trying to become nobles, to attain honours and degrees, but in a different world. That I call hypocrisy. It is hypocrisy because you pretend to be open, you speak of the brotherhood and the unity of man, while at the same time your acts are quite the opposite of your words. Whether you do this consciously or unconsciously is of no importance. The fact is that you do it. If you do it consciously, with fully awakened interest, then, at least, you are doing it without hypocrisy. Then you know what you are doing. If you say, "I want to glorify myself, but since I cannot attain distinctions and honours in this world, I shall try to acquire them in another; I shall become a disciple, I shall be called this and that, I shall be honoured as a man of quality, a man of virtue", then, at least, you are perfectly honest. Then there is some hope that you will find out that this process leads nowhere. But now you are trying to do two incompatible things at one time. You are possessive, and at the same time you talk about freedom from possession. You talk about tolerance, and yet you are becoming more and more exclusive in order"to help the world." Words, words, without depth. That is what I call hypocrisy. At one moment you talk of love for a Master, of reverence for an ideal, for a belief, for a God, and yet in the next moment you act with appalling cruelty. Your acts are acts of exploitation, possessiveness, nationalism, ill-treatment of women and children, cruelty to animals. To all this you are insensitive, yet you talk of affection. Is that not hypocrisy? You say, "We don't notice these conditions." Yes, that is just why they exist. Then why talk of love? So to me, your societies, your meetings in which you talk of your beliefs, ideals, are gatherings of hypocrisy. Isn't that so? I am not speaking harshly, on the contrary; you know what I feel about the state of the world. Yet you who can help, you who say that you want to help, you who are trying to help, are becoming more and more narrow, more and more bigoted, sectarian. You have ceased to cry, to weep, to smile. Emotion means nothing to you. You are concerned only with ceaseless gain, gain of knowledge which is suffocating, which is merely theoretical, which is blind emptiness. Knowledge has nothing to do with wisdom. Wisdom cannot be bought; it is natural, spontaneous, free. It is not merchandise that you can buy from your guru, teacher, at the price of discipline. Wisdom, I say, has nothing to do with knowledge. Yet you search for knowledge, and in that search for knowledge, for gain, you are losing love, all sense of feeling for beauty, all sensitivity to cruelty. You are becoming less and less impressionable. That brings us to another question which we shall perhaps discuss later, the question of impressions and reactions. You are emphasizing ego consciousness, limitation. When you say, "I am doing this because I like it, because it gives me satisfaction, pleasure", I am entirely with you, for then you will understand. But if you say, "I am seeking truth; I am trying to help mankind", and if at the same time you increase your self-consciousness, your glory, then I call your attitude and your life a hypocrisy because you are seeking power through exploiting others. Question: True criticism, according to you, excludes mere opposition, which amounts to the same thing as saying that it excludes all carping, fault-finding, or destructive criticism. Is not then criticism in your sense the same as pure thought directed toward that which is under consideration? If so, how can the capacity for true criticism or pure thinking be aroused or developed? Krishnamurti: To awaken such true criticism without opposition you must first know that you are not truly critical, that you are not thinking clearly. That is the first consideration. To awaken clear thinking, I must first know that I am not thinking openly. In other words, I must become aware of what I am thinking and feeling. Only then can I know that I am thinking truly or falsely. Isn't that so? When you say that you are critical, you are merely opposing through prejudice, through personal like and dislike, through emotional reactions. In that state you say that you are thinking clearly, that you are critical. But I say that to be intelligently critical you must be free from this personal bias, this personal opposition. And to be intelligently critical, you must first realize that your thinking is influenced, narrow, bigoted, personal, even though you have not been conscious of this bondage. So you have first to become aware of this. You see how the tension of this audience has gone down. Either you are tired, or you are not as much interested in this subject as you are in ceremonies and Masters. You don't see the importance of criticism because your capacities to doubt, to question, have been destroyed through education, through religion, through social conditions. You are afraid that doubt and criticism will wreck the structure of belief that you have so carefully built up. You know that the waves of doubt will undermine the foundation of the house which you have built on the sands of faith. You are afraid of doubt and questioning. That is why your interest, your tension, has subsided. But tension is necessary for action; without such tension you will do nothing either in the physical world or in the world of thought and feeling, which is all one. So first of all you must become aware that you are thinking very personally, that your thought is dominated by like and dislike, by reactions of pleasure and pain. Now you say to yourself, "I like your appearance; therefore I shall follow what you teach." Or, of another, "I don't like his beliefs; therefore I won't listen to him. I shall not even try to find out if what he says has any intrinsic value, I shall simply oppose him." Or, again, "He is a teacher of authority, and therefore I must obey him." Through such thinking, by such attitudes, you are gradually but surely destroying all sense of true intelligence, all creative thinking. You are becoming machines whose only activity is routine, whose only end is boredom and decay. Yet you question why you suffer, and seek a discipline whereby you can escape from that suffering. Question: What are the rules and principles of your life? Since, presumably, they are based on your own conception of love, beauty, truth, and God, what is that conception? Krishnamurti: What are my rules and principles of life? None. Please follow what I say, critically and intelligently. Don't object, "Must we not have rules? Otherwise our lives would be chaos." Don't think in terms of opposites. Think intrinsically with regard to what I am saying. Why do you want rules and principles? Why do you want them, you who have so many principles by which you are shaping, controlling, directing your lives? Why do you want rules? "Because", you reply, "we cannot live without them. Without rules and principles we would do exactly the things that we want to do; we might overeat or overindulge in sex, possess more than we should. We must have principles and rules by which to guide our lives." In other words, to restrain yourselves without understanding, you must have these principles and rules. This is the whole artificial structure of your lives - restraint, control, suppression - for behind this structure is the idea of gain, security, comfort, which causes fear. But the man who is not pursuing acquisitiveness, the man who is not caught up in the promise of reward or the threat of punishment, does not require rules; the man who tries to live and understand each experience completely does not need principles and rules, for it is only conditioning beliefs which demand conformity. When thought is unbound, unconditioned, it will then know itself as eternal. You try to control thought, to shape and direct it, because you have established a goal, a conclusion towards which you wish to go, and that end is always what you desire it to be, though you may call it God, perfection, reality. You ask me concerning my conception of God, truth, beauty, love. But I say, if someone describes truth, if someone tells you the nature of truth, beware of that person. For truth cannot be described; truth cannot be measured by words. You nod your heads in agreement, but tomorrow you will again be trying to measure truth, to find a description of it. Your attitude towards life is based on the principle of creating a mould, and then fitting yourselves into that mould. Christianity offers you one mould, Hinduism offers another, Muhammadanism, Buddhism, Theosophy offer still others. But why do you want a mould? Why do you cherish preconceived ideas? All that you can know is pain, suffering and passing joys. But you want to escape from them; you don't try to understand the cause of pain, the depth of suffering. Rather, you turn to its opposite for your consolation. In your sorrow, you say that God is love, that God is just, merciful. Mentally and emotionally you turn to this ideal of love, justice, and shape yourselves after that pattern. But you can understand love only when you are no longer possessive; from possessiveness arises all sorrow. Yet your system of thought and emotion is based on possessiveness; so how can you know of love? So your first concern is to free the mind and heart from possessiveness, and you can do that only when that possessiveness becomes a poison to you, when you feel the suffering, the agony which that poison causes. Now you are trying to escape from that suffering. You want me to tell you what my ideal of love is, my ideal of beauty, so that you can make of it another pattern, another standard, or compare my ideal with yours, hoping thereby to understand. Understanding does not come through comparison. I have no ideal, no pattern. Beauty is not divorced from action. True action is the very harmony of your whole being. What does that mean to you? It means nothing but empty words, because your actions are disharmonious, because you think one thing and act another. You can find enduring freedom, truth, beauty, love, which are one and the same, only when you no longer seek them. Please try to understand what I am saying. My meaning is subtle only in the sense that it can be carried out infinitely. I say that your very search is destroying your love, destroying your sense of beauty, of truth, because your search is but an escape, a flight from conflict. And beauty, love, truth, that Godhead of understanding, is not found by running away from conflict; it lies in the very conflict itself. ADYAR 5TH PUBLIC TALK 2ND JANUARY, 1934 This morning I want to explain something that requires very delicate thinking; and I hope you will listen, or rather, try to understand what I am going to say, not with opposition but with intelligent criticism. I am going to talk on a subject which, if understood, if thoroughly gone into, will give you an entirely new outlook on life. Also I would beg you not to think in terms of opposites. When I say that certainty is a barrier, don't think that you must therefore be uncertain; when I speak of the futility of assurance, please do not think that you must seek insecurity. When you really consider, you will perceive that mind is constantly seeking certainties, assurances; it is seeking the certainty of a goal, of a conclusion, of a purpose in life. You inquire, "Is there a divine plan, is there predetermination, is there not free will? Cannot we, realizing that plan, trying to understand it, guide ourselves by that plan?" In other words, you want assurance, certainty, so that mind and heart can shape themselves after it, can conform to it. And when you inquire for the path to truth, you are really seeking assurance, certainty, security. When you speak of a path to truth, it implies that truth, this living reality, is not in the present, but somewhere in the distance, somewhere in the future. Now to me, truth is fulfillment, and to fulfillment there can be no path. So it seems, to me at least, that the first illusion in which you are caught is this desire for assurance, this desire for certainty, this inquiry after a path, a way, a mode of living whereby you can attain the desired goal, which is truth. Your conviction that truth exists only in the distant future implies imitation. When you inquire what truth is, you are really asking to be told the path which leads to truth. Then you want to know which system to follow, which mode, which discipline, to help you on the way to truth. But to me there is no path to truth; truth is not to be understood through any system, through any path. A path implies a goal, a static end, and therefore a conditioning of the mind and the heart by that end, which necessarily demands discipline, control, acquisitiveness. This discipline, this control, becomes a burden; it robs you of freedom and conditions your action in daily life. Inquiry after truth implies a goal, a static end, which you are seeking. And that you are seeking a goal shows that your mind is searching for assurance, certainty. To attain this certainty, mind desires a path, a system, a method which it can follow, and this assurance you think to find by conditioning mind and heart through self-discipline, self-control, suppression. But truth is a reality that cannot be understood by following any path. Truth is not a conditioning, a shaping of the mind and heart, but a constant fulfillment, a fulfillment in action. That you inquire after truth implies that you believe in a path to truth, and this is the first illusion in which you are caught. In that there is imitativeness, distortion. Now please don't say, "Without an end, a purpose, life becomes chaotic." I want to explain to you the falseness of this conception. I say that everyone must find out for himself what truth is, but this does not mean that each one must lay down a path for himself, that each one must travel an individual path. It does not mean that at all, but it does mean that each one must understand truth for himself. I hope that you see the distinction between the two. When you have to understand, to discover, to experiment with life, a path becomes a hindrance. But if you must hew out a path for yourself, then there is an individual point of view, a narrow, limited point of view. Truth is the movement of eternal becoming, so it is not an end, it is not static. Hence the search for a path is born of ignorance, of illusion. But when mind is pliable, freed from beliefs and memories, freed from the conditioning of society, then in that action, in that pliability, there is the infinite movement of life. A true scientist, as I said the other day, is one who is continually experimenting, without a result in view. He does not seek results, which are merely the by-products of his search. So when you are seeking, experimenting, your action becomes merely a by-product of this movement. A scientist who seeks a result is not a true scientist. He is not truly seeking. But if he is searching without the idea of gain, then, though he may have results in his search, these results are of secondary importance to him. Now you are concerned with results, and therefore your search is not living, dynamic. You are seeking an end, a result, and therefore your action becomes increasingly limited. Only when you search without desire for success, achievement, does your life become continuously free, rich. This does not mean that in your search there will be no action, no result; it means that action, results, will not be your first consideration. As a river waters the trees that grow on its banks, so this movement of search nourishes our actions. Co-operative action, action bound together, is society. You want to create a perfect society. But there can be no such perfect society, because perfection is not an end, a culmination. Perfection is fulfillment, constantly in movement. Society cannot live up to an ideal; nor can man, for society is man. If society tries to fashion itself according to an ideal, if man tries to live according to an ideal, neither is truly fulfilling; both are in decay. But if man is in this movement of fulfillment, then his action will be harmonious, complete; his action will not be mere imitation of an ideal. So to me, civilization is not an achievement but a constant movement. Civilizations reach a certain height, exist for a time, and then decline, because in them there is no fulfillment for man, but only the constant imitation of a pattern. There is completeness, fulfillment, only when mind and heart are in this constant movement of fulfillment, of search. Now don't say, "Will there never be an end to search?" You are no longer searching for a conclusion, a certainty; therefore living is not a series of culminations, but a continual movement, fulfillment. If society is merely approximating to an ideal, society will soon decay. If civilization is merely an achievement of individuals collected as a group, it is already in the process of decay. But if society, if civilization, is the outcome of this constant movement in fulfillment, then it will endure, it will be the completeness of man. To me, perfection is not the achievement of a goal, of an ideal, of an absolute, through this idea of progress. Perfection is the fulfillment of thought, of emotion, and therefore of action -fulfillment which can exist at any time. Therefore perfection is free of time; it is not the result of time. Well, sirs, there are many questions, and I shall try to answer them as concisely as possible. Question: If a war breaks out tomorrow and the conscription law comes into force at once to compel you to take up arms, will you join the army and shout, "To arms, to arms!" as the Theosophical leaders did in 1914, or will you defy war? Krishnamurti: Don't let us concern ourselves with what the Theosophical leaders did in 1914. Where there is nationalism there must be war. Where there are several sovereign governments there must be war. It is inevitable. Personally I would not affiliate myself with war activities of any kind because I am not a nationalist, class-minded or possessive. I would not join the army nor give help in any way. I would not join any organization that exists merely for the purpose of healing the wounded and sending them back to the field to get wounded again. But I would come to an understanding about these matters before war threatened. Now, for the moment at least, there is no actual war. When war comes, inflaming propaganda is made, lies are told against the supposed enemy; patriotism and hatred are stirred up, people lose their heads in their supposed devotion to their country. "God is on our side", they shout, "and evil with the enemy." And throughout the centuries they have shouted these same words. Both sides fight in the name of God; on both sides priests bless - marvellous idea -the armaments. Now they will even bless the bombing planes, so eaten up are they with that disease which creates war: nationalism, their own class or individual security. So while we are at peace -though"peace" is an odd word to describe the mere cessation of armed hostilities - while we are, at all events, not actually killing each other on the field of battle, we can understand what are the causes of war, and disentangle ourselves from those causes. And if you are clear in your understanding, in your freedom, with all that that freedom implies - that you may be shot for refusing to comply with war mania - then you will act truly when the moment comes, whatever your action may be. So the question is not what you will do when war comes, but what you are doing now to prevent war. You who are always shouting at me for my negative attitude, what are you doing now to wipe out the very cause of war itself? I am talking about the real cause of all wars, not only of the immediate war that inevitably threatens while each nation is piling up armaments. As long as the spirit of nationalism exists, the spirit of class distinction, of particularity and possessiveness, there must be war. You cannot prevent it. If you are really facing the problem of war, as you should be now, you will have to take a definite action, a definite, positive action; and by your action you will help to awaken intelligence, which is the only preventive of war. But to do that, you must free yourself of this disease of "my God, my country, my family, my house." Question: What is the cause of fear, particularly of the fear of death? Is it possible ever to be completely rid of that fear? Why does fear universally exist, even though common sense speaks against it, considering that death is inevitable and is a perfectly natural occurrence? Krishnamurti: To him who is constantly fulfilling there is no fear of death. If we are really complete each moment, each day, then we know no fear of tomorrow. But our minds create incompleteness of action, and so the fear of tomorrow. We have been trained by religion, by society, to incompleteness, to postponement, and this serves us as an escape from fear, because we have tomorrow to complete that which we cannot fulfil today. But just a moment, please. I wish you would look at this problem neither from the background of your traditions, modern or ancient, nor through your commitment to reincarnation, but very simply. Then you will understand truth, which will free you wholly from fear. To me the idea of reincarnation is mere postponement. Even though you may believe profoundly in reincarnation, you still have fear and sorrow when someone dies, or fear of your own death. You may say, "I shall live on the other side; I shall be much happier, and shall do better work there than I can do here." But your words are merely words. They cannot quiet the gnawing fear that is always in your heart. So let us tackle this problem of fear rather than the question of reincarnation. When you have understood what fear is, you will see the unimportance of reincarnation; then we shall not even need to discuss it. Don't ask me what happens after death to the man who is crippled, to the man who is blind in this life. If you understand the central point, you will then consider such questions intelligently. You are afraid of death because your days are incomplete, because there is never fulfillment in your actions. Isn't that so? When your mind is caught up in a belief, belief in the past or in the future, you cannot understand experience fully. When your mind is prejudiced, there can be no complete understanding of experience in action. Hence you say that you must have tomorrow in which to complete that action, and you are afraid that tomorrow will not come. But if you can complete your action in the present, then infinity is before you. What prevents you from living completely? Please don't ask me how to complete action, which is the negative way of looking at life. If I tell you how, then you will merely make your action imitative, and in that there is no completeness. What you will have to do is to discover what prevents you from living completely, infinitely; and that, you will find, is this illusion of an end, of a certainty, in which your mind is caught, this illusion of attaining a goal. If you are constantly looking to the future in which to achieve, to gain, to succeed, to conquer, your action in the present must be limited, must be incomplete. When you are acting according to your beliefs or principles, naturally your action must be limited, incomplete. When your action is based on faith, that action is not fulfillment; it is merely the result of faith. So there are many hindrances in our minds; there is the instinct of possessiveness, cultivated by society, and the instinct of non-possessiveness, also cultivated by society. When there is conformity and imitation, when mind is bound by authority, there can be no fulfillment, and from this there arises fear of death, and the many other fears that lie hidden in the subconscious. Have I made my answer clear? We shall deal with this problem again, in a different way. Question: How does memory arise, and what are the different kinds of memory? You have said, "In the present is contained the whole of eternity." Please go more fully into this statement. Does it mean that the past and the future have no subjective reality to the man who lives wholly in the present? Can past errors, or, as one might call them, gaps in understanding, be adjusted or remedied in the ever continuous present in which the idea of a future can have no place? Krishnamurti: If you have followed the previous answer you will understand the cause of memory; you will see how memory arises. If you don't understand an incident, if you don't live completely in an experience, then the memory of that incident, experience, lingers in your mind. When you have an experience that you cannot fully fathom, the significance of which you cannot see, then your mind returns to that experience. Thus memory is created. It is born, in other words, from incompleteness in action. And since you have many layers of memories arising from incomplete actions, there comes into being that self-consciousness which you call the ego, and which is nothing but a series of memories, an illusion without reality, without substance either here or in the highest plane. There are various kinds of memory. For instance, there is the memory of the past, as when you recollect a beautiful scene. But are you interested in this? I see so many people looking all around. If you are not really interested in following this, we shall discuss nationalism and golf or tennis. (Laughter) Now there is the memory which is associated with the pleasure of yesterday. That is, you have enjoyed a beautiful scene; you have admired the sunset or the moonlight on the waters. Then later, say when you are in your office, your mind returns to that scene. Why? Because when you are in an unpleasant and ugly environment, when your mind and heart are caught up in what is not pleasant, your mind tends automatically to return to the pleasant experience of yesterday. This is one type of memory. Instead of changing conditions around you, instead of altering the environment about you, you retrace the steps of a pleasant experience and dwell on that memory, supporting and tolerating the unpleasant because you feel that you cannot alter it. Therefore the past lingers in the present. Have I made that clear? Then there is the memory, pleasant or unpleasant, which precipitates itself into the mind even though you do not want it. Uninvited past incidents come into your mind because you are not vitally interested in the present, because you are not fully alive to the present. Another kind of memory is that concerned with beliefs, principles ideals. All ideals and principles are really dead, things of the past. The memory of ideals persists when you cannot meet or understand the full movement of life. You want a measure to gauge that movement, a standard by which to judge experience; and acting in the measure of that standard you call living up to an ideal. Because you cannot understand the beauty of life, because you cannot live in its fullness, its glory, you want an ideal, a principle, an imitative pattern, to give significance to your living. Again, there is the memory of self-discipline, which is will. Will is nothing else but memory. After all, you begin to discipline yourself through the pattern of memory. "I did this yesterday", you say, "and I have made up my mind not to do it today." So action, thought, emotion, in the vast majority of cases, is entirely the result of the past; it is based on memory. Therefore such action is never fulfillment. It always leaves a scar of memory, and the accumulation of many such scars becomes self-consciousness, the "I", which is always preventing you from understanding completely. It is a vicious circle, this consciousness of the "I". So we have innumerable memories, memories of discipline and will, of ideals and beliefs, of pleasant attractions and unpleasant disturbances. Please follow what I am saying. Don't be disturbed by others. If this does not interest you, if your mind is constantly wandering, you may as well leave. I can go on, but what I say will mean nothing to you if you are not listening. We are constantly acting through this veil of memories, and therefore our action is always incomplete. Hence we take comfort in the idea of progress; we think of a series of lives tending towards perfection. Thus we have never a day, never a moment, of rich, full completeness, because these memories are always impeding, curtailing, limiting, trammelling our action. To return to the question:Does it mean that the past and the future have no subjective reality to the man who lives wholly in the present?" Don't ask me that question. If you are interested, if you want to eradicate fear, if you really want to live richly, worship the day in which the mind is free of the past and of the future, then you will know how to live completely. "Can past errors, or, as one might call them, gaps in understanding, be adjusted or remedied in the ever continuous present in which the idea of a future can have no place?" Do you understand the question? As I have not previously read this question, I must think as I go along. You can remedy past gaps in understanding only in the present, at least, that is my view. Introspection, the process of analysis of the past, does not yield understanding, because you cannot have understanding from a dead thing. You can have understanding only in the ever active, living present. This question opens up a wide field, but I don't want to go into that now. It is only in the moment of the present, in the moment of crisis, in the moment of tremendous, acute questioning born of full action, that past gaps in understanding can be remedied, destroyed; this cannot be done by looking into the past, examining your past actions. Let me take an example which will, I hope, make the matter clear to you. Suppose that you are class-minded and are unconscious of this. But the training in that class consciousness, the memory of it, still remains with you, is still a part of you. Now to free the mind from that memory or training, don't turn back to the past and say, "I am going to examine my action to see if that action is bound by class consciousness." Don't do this, but rather, in your feelings, actions, be fully aware, and then this class-conscious memory will precipitate itself in your mind; in that moment of awakened intelligence, mind begins to free itself of this bondage. Again, if you are cruel - and most people are unconscious of their cruelty - don't examine your actions to find out whether you are cruel or not. In that way you will never find out, you will never understand; for then the mind is constantly looking to cruelty and not to action, and is therefore destroying action. But if you are fully aware in your action, if your mind and heart are wholly alive in action, in the moment of action you will see that you are cruel. Thus you will find out the actual cause, the very root of cruelty, not the mere incidents of cruelty. But you can do this only in the fullness of action, when you are fully aware in action. Gaps in understanding cannot be bridged over through introspection, through examination, or through analysis of a past incident. This can be done only in the moment of action itself, which must ever be timeless. I don't know how many of you have understood this. The problem is really very simple, and I shall try to explain it more simply. I am not using philosophical or technical terms, because I don't know any. I am speaking in everyday language. Mind is accustomed to analyze the past, to dissect action in order to understand action. But I say you cannot understand in this way, for such analysis always limits action. Concrete examples of such limitation of action can be seen here in India and elsewhere, cases where action has almost ceased. Don't try to analyze your action. Rather, if you want to find out whether you are class-conscious, whether you are self-righteous, whether you are nationalistic, bigoted, authority-bound, imitative - if you are really interested in discovering these hindrances, then become fully aware, become conscious of what you are doing. Don't be merely observant, don't merely look at your action objectively, from the outside, but become fully aware, both mentally and emotionally, aware with your whole being in the moment of action. Then you will see that the many impeding memories will precipitate themselves in your mind and prevent you from acting fully, completely. In that awareness, in that flame, the mind will be able without effort to free itself from these past hindrances. Don't ask me, "How?" Simply try. Your minds are always asking for a method, asking how to do this or that. But there is no"how". Experiment, and you will discover. Question: Since temple entry for Harijans helps to break down one of the many forms of division between man and man which exist in India, do you support this movement which is being zealously advocated in this country just now? Krishnamurti: Now please understand that I am not attacking any personality. Don't ask, "Are you attacking Gandhiji?" and so on. I do not think that the problem of class distinction in India or elsewhere is going to be solved by allowing Harijans to enter temples. Class distinction ceases only when there are no more temples, no more churches, when there are no more mosques and no more synagogues; for truth, God, is not in a stone, in a carved image; it is not contained within four walls. That reality is not in any of these temples, nor does it lie in any of the ceremonies performed in them. So why bother about who enters and who does not enter these temples? Most of you smile and agree, but you don't feel these things. You don't feel that reality is everywhere, in yourselves, in all things. To you, reality is personified, limited, confined in a temple. To you, reality is a symbol, whether it be Christian or Buddhist, whether it is associated with an image or with no image. But reality is not a symbol. Reality has no symbol. It is. You cannot carve it into an image, limit it by a stone or by a ceremony or by a belief. When these things no longer exist, the quarrels between man and man will cease, as when nationalism - which has been cultivated through centuries for purposes of exploitation - no longer exists, there will be no more wars. Temples, with all their superstitions, with their exploiters the priests, have been created by you. Priests cannot exist by themselves. Priestcraft may exist as a means of livelihood, but that will soon disappear when economic conditions change, and the priests will alter their calling. The cause, the root of all these things, of temples, nationalism, exploitation, possessiveness, lies in your desire for se- curity, comfort. Out of your own acquisitiveness, you create innumerable exploiters, whether they are capitalists, priests, teachers, or gurus, and you become the exploited. As long as this acquisitiveness, this self-security exists, there will be wars, there will be caste distinctions. You cannot get rid of poison by merely discussing, by talking, by organizing. When you as individuals awaken to the absurdity, the falseness, the hideousness of all these things, when you really feel within you the gross cruelty of all this, only then will you create organizations of which you will not become slaves. But if you don't awaken, organizations will come into being that will make of you their slaves. That is what is happening now throughout the world. For God's sake, awaken to these things, at least those of you who think! Don't invent new ceremonies, create new temples, new secret orders. They are merely other forms of exclusiveness. There cannot be understanding, wisdom, as long as this spirit of exclusiveness exists, as long as you are looking for gain, for security. Wisdom is not in proportion to progress. Wisdom is spontaneous, natural; it cannot result from progress; it exists in fulfillment. So even though all of you, Brahmins and non-Brahmins, are allowed to enter temples, that will not dissolve class distinctions. For you will go at a later hour than the Harijans; you will wash yourselves more carefully or less carefully. That poison of exclusiveness, that canker in your hearts, has not been rooted out, and nobody is going to root it out for you. Communism and revolution may come and sweep away all the temples in this country, but that poison will continue to exist, only in a different form. Isn't that so? Don't nod your heads in agreement, because the next moment you will be doing the very thing against which I am talking. I am not judging you. There is only one way to tackle all these problems, and that is fundamentally, not superficially, symptomatically. If you approach them fundamentally, there must be tremendous revolution; father will stand against son, brother against brother. It will be a time of the sword, of warfare, not of peace, because there is so much corruption and decay. But you all want peace, you want tranquillity at any price, with all this cankerous poison in your hearts and minds. I tell you that when a man seeks truth he is against all these cruelties, barriers, exploitations; he does not offer you comfort; he does not bring you peace. On the contrary, he turns to the sword because he sees the many false institutions, the corrupt conditions that exist. That is why I say that if you are seeking truth you must stand alone - it may be against society, against civilization. But unfortunately very few people are truly seeking. I am not judging you. I am saying that your own actions should reveal to you that you are building up rather than destroying those walls of class distinction; that you are safeguarding rather than demolishing them, cherishing rather than tearing them down, because you are continually seeking self-glorification, security, comfort, in one form or another. Question: Can one not attain liberation and truth, this changing, eternal movement of life, even though one belongs to a hundred societies? Can one not have inward freedom, leaving the links outwardly unbroken? Krishnamurti: Realization of truth has nothing to do with any society. Therefore you may belong or you may not. But if you are using societies, social or religious bodies, as a means to understand truth, you will have ashes in your mouth. Can one not have inward freedom, leaving the links outwardly unbroken?" Yes, but along that way lie deceit, self-deception, cunning and hypocrisy, unless one is supremely intelligent and constantly aware. You can say, "I perform all these ceremonies, I belong to various societies, because I don't want to break my connection with them. I follow gurus, which I know is absurd, but I want to have peace with my family, live harmoniously with my neighbour and not bring discord to an already confused world." But we have lived in such deceptions so long, our minds have become so cunning, so subtly hypocritical, that now we cannot discover or understand truth unless we break these ties: We have so dulled our minds and hearts that, unless we break the bonds that bind us and thereby create a conflict, we cannot find out if we are truly free or not. But a man of true understanding - and there are very few - will find out for himself. Then there will be no links that he desires either to retain or to break. Society will despise him, his friends will leave him, his relations will have nothing to do with him; all the negative elements will break themselves away from him, he will not have to break away from them. But that course means wise perception; it means fulfillment in action, not postponement. And man will postpone as long as mind and heart are caught up in fear. ADYAR 6TH PUBLIC TALK 3RD JANUARY, 1934 As this is my last talk here, I shall first answer the questions that have been asked me, and then conclude with a brief talk. But before I proceed to answer the questions, I should like again to thank Mr. Warrington, the President pro tem., for inviting me to speak at Adyar and for his great friendliness. As I said at the beginning of my talks, I am really not interested in attacking your society. In saying this I am not going back on what I have said. I think that all spiritual organizations are a hindrance to man, for one cannot find truth through any organization. Question: Which is the wiser course to take - to protect and shelter the ignorant by advice and guidance, or to let them find out through their own experience and suffering, even though it may take them a whole lifetime to extricate themselves from the effects of such experience and suffering? Krishnamurti: I would say neither; I would say help them to be intelligent, which is quite a different thing. When you want to guide and protect the ignorant, you are really giving them a shelter which you have created for yourself. And to take the opposite point of view, that is, to let them drift through experiences, is equally foolish. But we can help another by true education - not this modern disease we call education, this passing through examinations and universities. I don't call that education at all. It is merely stultifying the mind. But that is a different question. If we can help another to become intelligent, that is all we need do. But that is the most difficult thing in the world, for intelligence does not offer shelter from the struggles and turmoils of life, nor does it give comfort; it only creates understanding. Intelligence is free, untrammelled, without fear or superficiality. We can help another to free himself from acquisitiveness, from the many illusions and hindrances which bind him, only when we begin to free ourselves. But we have this extraordinary attitude of wanting to improve the masses while we ourselves are still ignorant, still caught up in superstition, in acquisitiveness. When we begin to free ourselves, then we shall help another naturally and truly. Question: While I agree with you as to the necessity for the individual to discover superstitions, and even religions as such, do you not think that an organized movement in that direction is useful and necessary, particularly as in its absence the powerful vested interests, namely, the high priests in all the principal places of pilgrimage, will continue to exploit those who are still caught up in superstitions and religious dogmas and beliefs? Since you are not an individualist, why don't you stay with us and spread your message instead of going to other lands and returning to us when your words will probably have been forgotten? Krishnamurti: So you conclude organizations are necessary. I shall explain what I mean by organizations. There must be organizations for the welfare of man, the physical welfare of man, but not for the purpose of leading him to truth. For truth is not to be found through any organization, by any path, by any method. Merely helping man, through an organization, to destroy his superstitions, his beliefs, his dogmas, will not give him understanding. He will but create new beliefs in place of the old which you have destroyed. That is what is happening throughout the world. You destroy one set of beliefs, and man creates another; you take away a particular temple, and he creates another. But if individuals, out of their understanding, create intelligence about them, create understanding about them, then organizations will come into being naturally. Now we start first with organizations and then say, "How can we live and adjust ourselves to all the demands of these organizations?" In other words, we put organization first and individuals afterwards. I have seen this in every society: individuals go to the wall while organization, that mysterious thing in which you are all working, becomes a force, a crushing power for exploitation. That is why I feel that freedom from superstition, from beliefs and dogmas, can begin only with the individual. If the individual truly understands, then through his understanding, through the action of that understanding, he will naturally create organizations which will not be instruments of exploitation. But if we put organization first, as most people do, we are not destroying superstition but only creating substitutions. Take, for example, the possessive instinct. Law sanctifies you, blesses you, in the possession of your wife, your children, and your properties; it honours you. Then if communism comes, it honours the person who possesses nothing. Now to me, both systems are the same; they are the same in contrary terms, in opposition. When you are forced to a certain action, shaped, moulded by circumstance, by society, by an organization, in that action there is no understanding. You are merely exchanging masters. Organizations will result naturally if there are people who truly feel and are intelligent about these things. But if you are concerned merely with organization, you destroy that vital feeling, that intelligent, creative thinking, because you have to consider the organization, the revenue of the organization, and the beliefs on which the organization is founded. You have to consider all the commitments, and therefore neither you nor the organization will ever be fluidic, alive, pliable. Your organization is much more important to you than freedom. If you really think about this, you will see. A few individuals create organizations out of their enthusiasm, their enlivened interest, and the rest of the people fit into these organizations and become slaves to them. But if there were creative intelligence - which hardly exists in this country, because you are all followers, saying, "Tell me what to do, what discipline, what method to follow", like so many sheep - if you were truly free, if you had creative intelligence, then out of that would come action; you would tackle the problem fundamentally, that is, through education, through schools, through literature, through art; not through this perpetual talk about organizations. To have schools, to have the right kind of education, you must have organization; but all that will come naturally if individuals, if a few people are truly awake, are truly intelligent. "Since you are not an individualist, why don't you stay with us and spread your message instead of going away to other lands and returning to us when your words will probably have been forgotten?" I have promised this time to go to other countries, South America, Australia, the United States. But when I come back I intend to stay a long time in India. (Applause) Don't bother to applaud. Then I want to do things quite differently. Question: Which comes first, the individual or organization? Krishnamurti: That is very simple. Are you concerned with patchwork, which implies the modification of nationalism, of class distinction, of possessiveness, of inheritance, fighting over who should enter temples, doing a little bit of alteration here and there: or do you desire a complete, radical change? That change means freedom from self-consciousness, from the limited"I" which creates nationalism, fear, distinctions, possessiveness. If you perceive fundamentally the falseness of these things, then there comes true action. So you have to understand and act. As you are, you are merely glorifying self-consciousness, and I feel that basically all religious societies are doing that, though in theory, in books, their teachings may be different. You know, I have often been told that the Upanishads agree with what I say. People tell me, "You are saying exactly what Buddha said, what Christ said", or, "Fundamentally you are teaching what Theosophists stand for." But that is all theory. You must really think about this, you must be really honest, frank. When I say "honest", "frank", I do not mean sincere, for a fool can be sincere. (Replying to an interruption) Please just follow this. A lunatic who holds steadfastly to one idea, one belief, is sincere. Most people are sincere, only they have innumerable beliefs. Instead of one, they have many, and they are trying to be sincere in holding to them. If you are really frank, honest, you will see that your whole thought and action is based on this patchwork, this limited consciousness, this self-glorification, this desire to become somebody either spiritually or in the physical world. If you act and work with that attitude, then what you do must inevitably lead to patchwork; but if you act truly, then for you this whole structure has collapsed. For yourself you want glorification, you want safety, you want security, you want comfort; so you have to decide to do one thing or the other; you cannot do both. If frankly, honestly, you pursue security and comfort, then you will find out their emptiness. If you are really honest with regard to this self-glorification, then you will perceive its shallowness. But unfortunately our minds are not clear. We are biased, we are influenced; tradition and habit bind us. We have innumerable commitments. We have organizations to keep up. We have committed ourselves to certain ideas, to certain beliefs. And economics play a large part in our lives. We say, "If I think differently from my associates, from my neighbours, I may lose my job. Then how could I earn a living?" So we go on as before. That is what I call hypocrisy, not facing facts directly. Perceive truly and act; action follows perception, they are inseparable. Find out what you desire to do, patchwork or complete action. Now you are laying emphasis on work, and therefore primarily on patchwork. Question: Reincarnation explains much that is otherwise full of mystery and puzzle in life. It shows, among other things, that highly cherished personal relationships of any one incarnation do not necessarily continue in the next. Thus, strangers are in turn our relations and vice versa; this reveals the kinship of the human soul, a fact which, if properly understood, should make for true brotherhood. Hence, if reincarnation is a natural law and you happen to know that it is such; or, equally, if you happen to know that there is no such law, why do you not say so? Why do you always prefer in your answers to leave this highly important and interesting subject surrounded with the halo of mystery? Krishnamurti: I don't think it is important; I don't think it solves anything fundamentally. I don't think it makes you understand that fundamental, living, unique unity, which is not the unity of uniformity. You say, "I was married to someone last life, and I am married to a different person in this life; does not this bring about a feeling of brotherhood, or affection, or unity?" What an extraordinary way of thinking! You prefer the brotherhood of a mystery to the brotherhood of reality. You would be affectionate because of relationship, not because affection is natural, spontaneous, pure. You want to believe because belief comforts you. That is why there are so many class distinctions, wars, and the constant use of that absurd word"tolerance". If you had no divisions of beliefs, no sets of ideals, if you were really complete human beings, then there would be true brotherhood, true affection, not this artificial thing that you call brotherhood. The question of reincarnation I have dealt with so often that I shall speak of it only briefly now. You may not consider at all what I say; or you may examine it, just as you like. I am afraid you will not consider it - though that does not matter - because you are committed to certain ideas, to certain organizations, bound by authority, by traditions. To me, the ego, that limited consciousness, is the result of conflict. Inherently it has no value; it is an illusion. It comes into being through lack of understanding which in turn creates conflict, and out of this conflict grows self-consciousness or limited consciousness. You cannot perfect that self-consciousness through time; time does not free the mind from that consciousness. Please make no mistake; time will not free you from this self-consciousness, because time is merely postponement of understanding. The further you postpone an action, the less you understand it. You are conscious only when there is conflict; and in ecstasy, in true perception, there is spontaneous action in which there is no conflict. You are then not conscious of yourself as an entity, as the "I". Yet you desire to protect that accumulation of ignorance which you call the"I", that accumulation from which springs this idea of more and more, that centre of growth which is not life, which is but an illusion. So while you are looking to time to bring about perfection, self-consciousness merely increases. Time will never free you from that self-consciousness, that limited consciousness. What will free the mind is the completeness of understanding in action; that is, when your mind and heart are acting harmoniously, when they are no longer biased, tethered to a belief, bound by a dogma, by fear, by false value, then there is freedom. And that freedom is the ecstasy of perception. You know, it would really be of great interest if one of you who believe so fundamentally in reincarnation would discuss the subject with me. I have discussed it with many, but all they can say is, "We believe in reincarnation, it explains so many things", and that settles the question. One cannot discuss with people who are convinced of their beliefs, who are positive of their knowledge. When a man says that he knows, the matter is finished; and you worship the man who says, "I know", because his positive statement, his certainty, gives you comfort, shelter. Whether you believe in reincarnation or not seems to me a very trivial matter; that belief is like a toy, it is pleasant; it does not solve a thing, because it is merely a postponement. It is merely an explanation, and explanations are as dust to the man who is seeking. But unfortunately you are choked with dust, you have explanations for everything. For every suffering you have a logical, suitable explanation. If a man is blind, you account for his hard lot in this life by means of reincarnation. Inequalities in life you explain away by reincarnation, by the idea of evolution. So, with explanations, you have settled the many questions concerning man, and you have ceased to live. The fullness of life precludes all explanations. To the man who is really suffering, explanations are like so much dust and ashes. But to the man who is seeking comfort, explanations are necessary and excellent. There is no such thing as comfort. There is only understanding, and understanding is not bound by belief or by certainties. You say, "I know that reincarnation is true." Well, what of it? Reincarnation, that is, the process of accumulation, of growth, of gain, is merely the burden of effort, the continuance of effort; and I say there is a way of living spontaneously, without this continual struggle, and that is by understanding, which is not the result of accumulation, growth. This understanding, perception, comes to him who is not bound by fear, by self-consciousness. Question: The man who remains unmoved in the face of dangers and trials in life, such as the opposition of his fellow men to a course of action, is always a man of steadfast will and sterling character. Public schools in England and elsewhere recognize the importance of developing will and character, which are commonly regarded as the best equipment with which to embark on life, for will insures success, and character insures a moral sanction. What have you to say about will and character, and what is their true value to the individual? Krishnamurti: The first part of this question serves as the background of the question itself which is, "What have you to say about will and character, and what is their true value to the individual?" None, from my point of view. But that does not mean that you must be without will, without character. Don't think in terms of opposites. What do you mean by will? Will is the outcome of resistance. If you don't understand a thing, you want to conquer it. All conquering is but slavery and therefore resistance; and out of that resistance grows will, the idea of "I must and I must not." But perception, understanding, frees the mind and heart from resistance, and so from this constant battle of "I must and I must not." The same thing applies to character. Character is only the power to resist the many encroachments of society upon you. The more will you have, the greater is self-consciousness, the"I", because the "I" is the result of conflict, and will is born out of resistance which creates self-consciousness. When does resistance come into being? When you pursue acquisition, gain, when you desire to succeed, when you are pursuing virtue, when there is imitation and fear. All this may sound absurd to you because you are caught up in the conflict of acquisition, and you will naturally say, "What can a man be without will, without conflict, without resistance?" I say that is the only way to live, without resistance, which does not mean non-resistance; it does not mean having no will, no purposefulness, being blown hither and thither. Will is the outcome of false values; and when there is understanding of what is true, conflict disappears and with it the developing of resistance which is called will. Will and the development of character, which are as the coloured glass that perverts the clear light, cannot free man; they cannot give him understanding. On the contrary, they will limit man. But a mind that understands, a mind that is pliable, alert - which does not mean the cunning mind of a clever lawyer, a type which is so prevalent in India, a type which is destructive - the mind that is pliable, I say, the mind that is not bound, not possessive, to such a mind there is no resistance because it understands; it perceives the falseness of resistance, for it is like water. Water will assume any shape, and still it remains water. But you want to be shaped after a particular pattern because you have not complete understanding. I say that when you fulfil, act completely, you will no longer seek a pattern and exert your will to fit into that pattern, for in true understanding there is constant movement which is eternal life. Question: You said yesterday that memory, which is the residue of accumulated actions, gives rise to the idea of time and hence progress. Please develop the idea further with special reference to the contribution of progress to human happiness. Krishnamurti: There is progress in the field of mechanical science, progress with regard to machines, motor cars, modern conveniences, and the conquering of space. But I am not referring to that kind of progress, because progress in mechanical science must ever be transient; in that there can never be fulfillment for man. I must talk very briefly because I have many questions to answer. I hope that what I say will be clear; if not, we shall continue at a later time. There can be no fulfillment for man in mechanical progress. There will be better cars, better aeroplanes, better machines, but fulfillment is not to be realized through this continual process of mechanical perfection - not that I am against machines. When we talk of progress as applied to what we call individual growth, what do we mean? We mean the acquiring of more knowledge, greater virtue, which is not fulfillment. What is called virtue here may be considered vice in another society. Society has developed the concepts of good and bad. Inherently there is no such thing as good or bad. Don't think in terms of opposites. You have to think fundamentally, intrinsically. To me, through progress there cannot be completeness of action, because progress implies time, and time does not lead to fulfillment. Fulfillment lies in the present only, not in the future. What prevents you from living completely in the present? The past, with its many memories and hindrances. I shall put it differently. While there is choice, there must be this so-called progress in things essential and unessential; but the moment you possess the essential, it has already become the unessential. And so we go on, continually moving from unessential to essential, which in its turn becomes the unessential, and this substitution we call progress. But perfection is fulfillment, which is the harmony of mind and heart in action. There cannot be such harmony if your mind is caught up by a belief, by a memory, by a prejudice, by a want. Since you are caught up in these things, you must become free of them, and you can become free only when you as an individual have found out their true significance. That is, you can act harmoniously only when you discover their true significance by questioning, by doubting their existing values. I am sorry but I must now stop answering questions. Many questions have been asked me with regard to the Theosophical Society, whether I would accept the presidency if it were offered me, and what would be my policy if I were elected; whether the Theosophical Society, which strives to educate the masses and raise the ethical standard, should be disbanded; what policy I would advocate for the Indo-British commonwealth, and so on. I do not propose to stand for the presidency of the Theosophical Society because I do not belong to that Society. That does not interest me - not that I think myself superior - for I do not believe in religious organizations, and also I don't want to guide a single man. Please believe me, sirs, when I say that I don't want to influence one single person; for the desire to guide shows inherently that one has an end, a goal, towards which he thinks all humanity must come like a band of sheep. That is what guidance implies. Now I do not want to urge any man towards a particular goal or an end; what I want to do is to help him to be intelligent, and that is quite a different thing. So I have not time to answer these innumerable questions based on such ideas. Since it is rather late, I should like to make a resume of what I have been saying during the last five or six days, and naturally I must be paradoxical. Truth is paradoxical. I hope that those of you who have intelligently followed what I have been saying will understand and act, but not make a standard of me for your actions. If what I have said is not true to you, you will naturally forget it. Unless you have really fathomed, unless you have thought over what I have said, you will simply repeat my phrases, learn my words by heart, and that is of no value. For understanding, the first requirement is doubt, doubt not only with regard to what I say, but primarily with regard to the ideas which you yourselves hold. But you have made an anathema of doubt, a fetter, an evil to be banished, to be put away; you have made of doubt an abominable thing, a disease. But to me, doubt is none of these; doubt is an ointment that heals. But what do you generally doubt? You doubt what the other says. It is very easy to doubt someone else. But to doubt the very thing in which you are caught up, that you hold, to doubt the very thing that you are seeking, pursuing, that is more difficult. True doubt will not yield to substitution. When you doubt another, as when someone said during one of these talks the other day, "We doubt you", that shows you are doubting what I am giving, what I am trying to explain. Quite right. But your doubt is but the search for substitution. You say, "I have this, but I am not satisfied. Will that satisfy me, that other thing which you are offering? To find out, I must doubt you." But I am not offering you anything. I am saying, doubt the very thing that is in your hands, that is in your mind and heart; then you will no longer seek substitution. When you seek substitution there is fear, and therefore increase of conflict. When you are afraid you seek the opposite of fear, which is courage; you proceed to acquire courage. Or, if you decide that you are unkind, you proceed to acquire kindness, which is merely substitution, a turning to the opposite. But if, instead of seeking a substitution, you really begin to inquire into that very thing in which your mind is caught - fear, unkindness, acquisitiveness - then you will discover the cause. And you can find out the cause only by continually doubting, by questioning, by a critical and intelligent attitude of mind, which is a healthy attitude, but which has been destroyed by society, by education, by religions that admonish you to banish doubt. Doubt is merely an inquiry after true values, and when you have found out true values for yourself, doubt ceases. But to find out, you must be critical, you must be frank, honest. Since most people are seeking substitution, they are merely increasing their conflict. And this increase of conflict, with its desire for escape, we call progress, spiritual progress, because to us substitution or escape is further acquisition, further achievement. So what you call the search for truth is merely the attempt to find substitutes, the pursuit of greater securities, safer shelters from conflict. When you seek shelters you are creating exploiters, and having created them, you are caught up in that machine of exploitation which says, "Don't do this, don't do that, don't doubt, don't be critical. Follow this teaching, for this is true and that is false." So when you are talking of truth, you are really wanting substitution; you want repose, tranquillity, peace, assured escapes, and in this want you create artificial and empty machines, intellectual machines, to provide this substitution, to satisfy this want. Have I made my meaning clear? First of all, you are caught up in conflict, and because you cannot understand that conflict you want the opposite, repose, peace, which is an intellectual concept. In that want you have created an intellectual machine, and that intellectual machine is religion; it is utterly divorced from your feelings, from your daily life, and is therefore merely an artificial thing. That intellectual machine may also be society, intellectually created, a machine to which you have become slaves and by which you are ruthlessly trodden down. You have created these machines because you are in conflict, because through fear and anxiety you are driven to the opposite of that conflict, because you are seeking repose, tranquillity. Desire for the opposite creates fear, and out of that fear arises imitation. So you invent intellectual concepts such as religions, with their beliefs and standards, their authority and disciplines, their gurus and Masters, to lead you to what you want, which is comfort, security, tranquillity, escape from this constant conflict. You have created this vast machine which you call religion, this intellectual machine which has no validity, and you have also created the machine that is called society, for in your social as well as in your religious life you want comfort, shelter. In your social life you are held by traditions, habits, unquestioned values; public opinion acts as your authority; and unquestioned opinion, habit, and tradition eventually lead to nationalism and war. You talk of searching for truth, but your search is merely a search for substitution, the desire for greater security and greater certainty. Therefore your search is destroying that which you are seeking, which is peace, not the peace of stagnation, but of understanding, of life, of ecstasy. You are denied that very thing because you are looking for something that will help you to escape. So to me the whole purpose - if I may use that word without your misunderstanding me - lies in destroying this false intellectual machine by means of intelligence, that is, by true awareness. You can understand, put away tradition, which has become a hindrance; you can understand, put away Masters, ideas, beliefs. But do not destroy them merely to take up new ones; I don't mean that. You must not merely destroy, merely put away, you must be creative; and you can be creative only when you begin to understand true values. So question the significance of traditions and habits, of nationality, of discipline, of gurus and Masters. You can understand only when you are fully aware, aware with your whole being. When you say, "I am seeking God", fundamentally you mean, "I want to run away, to escape." When you say, "I am seeking truth, and an organization might help me to find it", you are merely seeking a shelter. Now I am not being harsh;I only want to emphasize and make clear what I am saying. It is for you to act. We have created artificial hindrances. They are not real, fundamental hindrances; they are artificial. We have created them because we are seeking something, rewards, security, comfort, peace. To gain security, to help us avoid conflict, we must have many aids, many supports. And these aids, these supports, are self-discipline, gurus, beliefs. I have gone into all this more or less fully. Now when I am speaking about these things, please don't think in terms of opposites, for,then you will not understand. When I say that self-discipline is a hindrance, don't think that therefore you must not have discipline at all. I want to show you the cause of self-discipline. When you understand that, there is neither this self-imposed discipline nor its opposite, but there is true intelligence. In order to realize what we want - which is fundamentally false, because it is based on the idea of the opposite as a substitution - we have created artificial means, such as self-discipline, belief, guidance. Without such belief, without such authority, which is a hindrance, we feel lost; thus we become slaves and are exploited. A man who lives by belief is not truly living; he is limited in his actions. But the man who, because he understands, is really free from belief and from the burden of knowledge, to him there is ecstasy, to him there is truth. Beware of the man who says, "I know", because he can know only the static, the limited, never the living, the infinite. Man can only say, "There is", which has nothing to do with knowledge. Truth is ever becoming; it is immortal; it is eternal life. We have these hindrances, artificial hindrances, based on imitation, on acquisitiveness which creates nationalism, on self-discipline, gurus, Masters, ideals, beliefs. Most of us are enslaved by one of these, consciously or unconsciously. Now please follow this, otherwise you will say, "You are merely destroying and not giving us any constructive ideas." We have created these hindrances; and we can be free from them only by becoming aware of them, not through the process of discipline, not by substitution, not by control, not by forgetfulness, not by following another, but only by becoming aware that they are poisons. You know, when you see a poisonous snake in your room, you are fully aware of it with your whole being. But these things, disciplines, beliefs, substitutions, you do not regard as poisons. They have become mere habits, sometimes pleasurable and sometimes painful, and you put up with them as long as pleasure outweighs pain. You continue in this manner till pain overwhelms you. When you have intense bodily pain, your only thought is to get rid of that pain. You don't think of the past or the future, of past health, of the time when you are not going to have any more pain. You are only concerned with getting rid of pain. Likewise, you have to become fully and intensely aware of all these hindrances, and you can do that only when you are in conflict, when you are no longer escaping, no longer choosing substitutes. All choice is merely substitution. If you become fully aware of one hindrance, whether it be a guru, memory, or class consciousness, that awareness will uncover the creator of all hindrances, the creator of illusions, which is self-consciousness, the ego. When mind awakens intelligently to that creator, which is self-consciousness, then in that awareness the creator of illusions dissolves itself. Try it, and you will see what happens. I am not saying this as an enticement for you to try. Don't try with the purpose of becoming happy. You will try it only if you are in conflict. But as most of you have many shelters in which you take comfort, you have altogether ceased to be in conflict. For all your conflicts you have explanations - so much dust and ashes -and these explanations have eased your conflict. Perhaps there are one or two among you who are not satisfied with explanations, not satisfied with ashes, whether dead ashes of yesterday, or future ashes of belief, of hope. If you are really caught up in conflict you will find the ecstasy of life, but there must be intelligent awareness. That is, if I tell you that self-discipline is a hindrance, don't immediately reject or accept my statement. Find out if your mind is caught up in imitation, if your self-discipline is based on memory, which is but an escape from the present. You say, "I must not do this", and out of that self-imposed prohibition grows imitation; so self-discipline is based on imitation, fear. Where there is imitation there cannot be the fruition of intelligence. Find out if you are imitative; experiment. And you can experiment only in action itself. These are not just so many words; if you think it over, you will see. You cannot understand after action has taken place, which would be self-analysis, but only in the moment of action itself. You can be fully aware only in action. Don't say, "I must not be class-conscious", but become aware to discover if you are class-minded. That discovery in action will create conflict, and that conflict itself will free the mind from class consciousness, without your trying to overcome it. So action itself destroys illusions, not self-imposed discipline. I wish you would think this over and act; then you would see what it all means. It opens immense avenues to the mind and heart, so that man can live in fulfillment without seeking an end, a result; he can act without a motive. But you can live completely only when you have direct perception, and direct perception is not attained through choice, through effort born of memory. It lies in the flame of awareness, which is the harmony of mind and heart in action. When your mind is freed from religions, gurus, systems, from acquisitiveness, then only can there be completeness of action, then only can mind and heart follow the swift wanderings of truth. - Auckland 1934 - 1st Public Talk 1st Vasanta School Gardens Talk 2nd Vasanta School Gardens Talk Talk To Theosophists 2nd Talk In Town Hall 3rd Vasanta School Gardens Talk Talk To Businessmen - Ojai 1934 - 1st Public Talk 2nd Public Talk 3rd Public Talk 4th Public Talk 5th Public Talk 6th Public Talk 7th Public Talk 8th Public Talk 9th Public Talk 10th Public Talk 11th Public Talk 12th Public Talk - New York 1935 - 1st Public Talk 2nd Public Talk 3rd Public Talk Rio De Janeiro 1935 (1) - 1st Public Talk 2nd Public Talk Sao Paulo 1935 - 2nd Public Talk Rio De Janeiro 1935 (2) - 3rd Public Talk 4th Public Talk 5th Public Talk Nichteroy 1935 - Public Talk Montevideo 1935 - 1st Public Talk 2nd Public Talk 3rd Public Talk University Of Montevideo, Public Talk - Buenos Aires 1935 - 1st Public Talk 2nd Public Talk 3rd Public Talk 4th Public Talk - Argentina 1935 - National College, La Plata Rosario and Mendoza - Public Talks - Chile 1935 - Santiago - 1st Public Talk Valparaiso - Public Talk Santiago - 2nd Public Talk Santiago - 3rd Public Talk Mexico City 1935 - 1st Public Talk 2nd Public Talk 3rd Public Talk 4th Public Talk AUCKLAND NEW ZEALAND 1ST PUBLIC TALK 28TH MARCH, 1934 Friends, I think each one is caught up in either a religious problem or a social struggle or an economic conflict. Each one is suffering through the lack of the understanding of these various problems, and we try to solve each one of these problems by itself; that is, if you have a religious problem, you think you are going to solve it by brushing away the economic or the social problem and centring entirely on the religious problem, or you have an economic problem and you think that you are going to solve that economic problem by wholly confining yourself to that one particular conflict. Whereas, I say you cannot solve these problems by themselves; you cannot solve the religious problem by itself, nor the economic nor the social problem, unless you see the interrelationship between the religious, the social and the economic problems. What we call problems are merely symptoms, which increase and multiply because we do not tackle the whole life as one, but divide it as economic, social or religious problems. If you look at all the various solutions that are offered for the various ailments, you will see that they deal with the problems apart, in watertight compartments, and do not take the religious, social and economic problems comprehensively as a whole. Now it is my intention to show that so long as we deal with these problems apart, separately, we but increase the misunderstanding, and therefore the conflict, and thereby the suffering and the pain; whereas, until we deal with the social problem and the religious and economic problems as a comprehensive whole, not as divided, but rather see the delicate and the subtle connection between what we call religious, social or economic problems - until you see this real connection, this intimate and subtle connection between these three, whatever problem you may have, you are not going to solve it. You will but increase the struggle. Though we may think we have solved one problem, that problem again arises in a different form, so we go on through life solving problem after problem, struggle after struggle, without fully comprehending the full significance of our living. So then, to understand the intimate connection between what we call religious, social and economic problems, there must be a complete reorientation of thought - that is, each individual must no longer be a cog, a machine, either in the social or the religious structure. Look and you will see that most human beings are slaves, merely cogs in this machine. They are not really human beings, but merely react to a set environment and therefore there is no true individual action, individual thought; and to find out that intimate relationship between all our actions, religious, political or social, you as an individual must think, not as a group, not as a collective body; and that is one of the most difficult things to do, for individuals to step out of the social structure, or the religious, and examine it critically, to find out what is false and what true in that structure. And then you will see that you are no longer concerned with a symptom, but are trying to find out the cause of the problem itself, and not merely deal with the symptoms. Perhaps some of you will say at the end of my talk that I have given you nothing positive, nothing on which you can definitely work, a system which you can follow. I have no system. I think systems are pernicious things, because they may for the moment alleviate the problems, but if you merely follow a system you are a slave to it. You merely substitute a new system for the old, which does not bring about comprehension. What brings about comprehension is not to search for a new system, but to discover for yourselves, as individuals, not as a collective machine but as individuals, what is false and what is true in the existing system, not to substitute a new system for the old. Now, to be able to criticize, to be able to question, is the first essential requirement for any thinking man, so that he will begin to discover what is false and what is true in the existing system, and therefore out of that thought there is action, and not mere acceptance. So during this talk, if you would understand what I am going to say, there must be criticism. Criticism is essential. Questioning is right, but we have been trained not to question, not to criticize, we have been carefully trained to oppose. For instance, if I am going to say anything which you are going to dislike - as I shall, I hope - you will naturally begin to oppose it, because opposition is easier than to find out if what I am saying has any value. If you discover what I am saying has value, then there is action, and hence you will have to alter your whole attitude towards life. Therefore, as we are not prepared to do that, we have made a clever technique of opposition. That is, if anything I am saying you do not like, you bring up all your deep-rooted prejudices and obstruct, and if I say anything which may hurt you, or which may emotionally upset you, you take shelter behind these prejudices, these traditions, this background; and from that background you react, and that reaction you call criticism. To me it is not criticism. It is merely clever opposition, which has no value. Now, if you are all Christians - and presumably you are all Christians - perhaps I am going to say something which you may not understand, and instead of trying to find out what I want to convey, you will immediately take shelter behind the traditions, behind the deep-rooted prejudices and authorities of the established order, and from that fortress, on the defensive, attack. To me that is not criticism; that is a clever way of not acting, of avoiding full, complete action. If you would understand what I am going to say, I would request you to be really critical, not to be clever in your opposition. To be critical demands a great deal of intelligence. Criticism is not scepticism, or acceptance; that would be equally stupid. If you merely said, "Well, I am sceptical about what you say", that would be as stupid as to merely accept. Whereas, true criticism consists not in giving values, but in trying to find out the true values. Is it not so? If you give values to things, if the mind gives values, then you are not finding out the intrinsic merit of the thing, and most of our minds are trained to give values. Take money, for example. Abstractly, money has no value. It has the value we give to it. That is, if you want power which money gives, then you use money to get power, so you are giving a value to something which has inherently no value; so likewise if you are going to find out and understand what I am going to say, you must have this capacity of criticism, which is really easy if you want to find out, if you want to discover, not if you say, "Well, I don't want to be attacked. I am on the defensive. I have everything I want, I am perfectly satisfied." Then such an attitude is pretty hopeless. Then you are here merely out of curiosity - and the majority probably are - and what I shall say will have no significance, and therefore you will say it is negative, nothing constructive, nothing positive. So please bear this in mind, that we are going to discover this evening, consider together, what are the false things and the true in the existing social and religious conditions; and to do that please do not bring in continually your prejudices, whether Christian, or of some other sect, but rather have this intelligent, critical attitude, not only with regard to what I am going to say, but with regard to everything in life, which means the cessation of seeking new systems, not the search for a new system which, when found, will again be perverted, corrupted. In the discovery of the false and the true in the social, the religious and the economic systems - the false and the true which we have created for ourselves - in the discovery of that, we shall keep our minds and hearts from creating false environments in which the mind is likely to be caught again. Most of you are seeking a new system of thought, a new system of economics, a new system of religious philosophy. Why are you seeking a new system? You say, "I am dissatisfied with the old", that is, if you are seeking. Now I say, don't seek a new system, but rather examine the very system in which you are held, and then you will see that no system of any kind will bring about the creative intelligence which is essential for the understanding of truth or God or whatever name you like to give to it. That means that by the following of no system are you going to discover that eternal reality; but you are going to find it only when you, as individuals, begin to understand the very system that you have built up through the centuries, and in that system discover what is true and what is false. So please bear that in mind - that I am not giving a new system of philosophy. I think these systems are cages for the mind to be caught up in. They do not help man, they are merely hindrances. These systems are a means of exploitation. Whereas, if you as individuals begin to question, you will see that in that questioning you create conflict, and out of the conflict you will understand -not in the mere acceptance of a new system which is merely another soporific which puts you to sleep and turns you into another machine. So let us find out the false and the true in the existing systems -the systems of religion and sociology. To find out what is false and true, we must see what the religions are based on. Now, I am talking of religion as the crystallized form of thought which has become the community's highest ideal. I hope you are following all this. That is, religions as they are, not as you would like them to be. As they are, what are they based on? What is their foundation? When you see, when you examine and really critically think about it - not bring up your hopes and prejudices, but when you really think about it - you will see that they are based on comfort, giving you comfort when you are suffering. That is, the human mind is continually seeking security, a position of certainty, either in a belief or an ideal, or in a concept, and so you are con- tinually seeking a certainty, security, in which the mind takes shelter as comfort. Now what happens when you are continually seeking security, safety, certainty? Naturally that creates fear, and when there is fear there must be conformity. Please, I have not the time to go into details. I will do that in my various talks, but in this talk I want to put it all concisely, and if you are interested you can think it over, and then we can discuss it in question and answer meetings. So the so-called religions give the pattern of conformity to the mind that is seeking security born of fear, in search of comfort; and where there is the search for comfort, there is no understanding. Our religions throughout the world, in their desire to give comfort, in their desire to lead you to a particular pattern, to mould you, give you various patterns, moulds, securities, through what they call faith. That is one of the things they demand - faith. Please do not misunderstand. Do not jump ahead of me. They demand faith, and you accept faith because it gives you a shelter from the conflict of daily existence, from the continual struggle, worries, pains and sorrows. So out of that faith, which must be a dogmatic faith, churches are born, and out of that are established ideas, beliefs. Now to me - and please bear this in mind, I want you to criticize, not accept - to me all beliefs, all ideals are a hindrance because they prevent you from understanding the present. You say beliefs, ideals, faith, are necessary as a lighthouse which will direct you through the turmoil of life. That is, you are more interested in beliefs, in tradition, in ideals and faith, than in comprehending the turmoil itself. To understand the turmoil you cannot have a belief, prejudice; you must look at it completely, hold it with a fresh mind, with a mind uninfected, not with a mind which is biased with a particular prejudice which we call an ideal. So where there is a search for comfort, security, there must be a pattern, a mould, in which we take shelter, and therefore we begin to preconceive what God must be, and what truth must be. Now to me, there is a living reality. There is something eternally becoming, fundamental, real, lasting, but it cannot be preconceived; it demands no belief, it demands a mind that is not tethered to an ideal as an animal is tied to a post, but on the contrary, demands a mind that is continually moving, experimenting, never staying. I say there is a living reality; call it God, truth, anything you like, which is of very little importance -and to understand that, there needs to be supreme intelligence, and therefore there cannot be any conformity, but rather the questioning of those things false and true in which the mind is caught up. And you will see that most people, most of you who are religiously inclined, are in search of truth, and that very search indicates that you are escaping from the conflict of the present, or you are dissatisfied with the present condition. Therefore you try to find out what is the real; that is, you leave the condition which creates conflict and run away and try to find out what God is, what truth is. Therefore that search is the denial of truth, because you are running away - there is escape, desire for comfort, security. Therefore, when religions are based as they are, on the giving of securities, there must be exploitation; and to me religions as they are exist on nothing but a series of exploitations. What we call the mediators between our present conflict and that supposed reality have become our exploiters, and they are priests, masters, teachers, saviours; because I say it is only through understanding the present conflict with all its significance, with all its delicate nuances - it is only thus that you can find out what is the real, and no one can lead you to it. If both the inquirer and the teacher knew what truth is, then you could both go towards it; but the disciple cannot know what truth is. Therefore his inquiry after truth can only exist in the conflict, not away from conflict, and therefore, to me, any teacher who describes what truth is, what God is, is denying that very thing, that immeasurable thing which cannot be measured by words. The illusion of words cannot hold it, and the bridge of words cannot lead you to it. It is only when you, as an individual, begin to realize in the immense conflict, the cause and therefore the falseness of that conflict, that you will find out what is truth. In that there is everlasting happiness, intelligence; but not in this spurious thing called spirituality which is but a conformity, driven by authority through fear. I say there is something exquisitely real, infinite; but to discover it man must not be an imitative machine, and our religions are nothing but that. And besides, our religions throughout the world keep people apart. That is, you with your particular prejudices, calling yourselves Christians, and the Indians, with their particular beliefs, calling themselves Hindus, never meet. Your beliefs are keeping you apart. Your religions are keeping you apart. "But", you say, "if the Hindus could only become Christians, then we would have a unity", or the Hindus say, "Let them all become Hindus." Even then there is a division, because belief necessitates a division, a dis- tinction, and therefore exploitation and the continual struggle of distinctive classes. We say religions unify. On the contrary. Look at the world split up into narrow little sects, fighting against each other to increase their membership, their wealth, their positions, their authorities, thinking they are the truth. There is only one truth, but you cannot go to it through any sect, through any religion. To discover what is true in religion, and what is false, you cannot be a machine; you cannot accept things as they are. You will if you are satisfied, and if you are satisfied you won't listen to me, and my talk will be useless. But if you are dissatisfied I will help you to question rightly, and out of the questioning you will find out what is truth, and in that discovery of what is true you will find out how to live richly, completely, ecstatically; not with this constant struggle, battling against everything for your own security, which you call virtue. Again, this fear which is created through the search for security, this fear seeks shelter in society. Society is nothing else but the expression of the individual multiplied by the thousand. After all, society is not some mysterious thing. It is what you are. It is pressing, controlling, dominating, twisting. Society is the expression of the individual. This society offers security through tradition, which we call public opinion. That is, public opinion says that to possess, to possess property, is perfectly ethical, moral, and gives you distinction in this world, confers honours; you are a great person in this world. That is what, traditionally, is accepted. That is the opinion which you have created as individuals, because you are seeking that. You all want to be somebody in the state, either Sir Somebody or Lord, you know, and all the rest of it, which is based on possessiveness, possessions; and that has become moral, true, good, perfectly Christian, or perfectly Hindu. It is the same thing. Now we call that morality. We call morality adjusting yourself to a pattern. Please, I am not preaching the reverse of it. I am showing you the falseness of it, and if you want to find out you will act, not seek the opposite. That is, you consider possessions, whether your wife, your children, your property, you consider that perfectly moral. Now suppose another society came into being where possessions are evil, where this idea of possessiveness is ethically forbidden - driven into your mentality as possessiveness is now driven in by circumstances, by condition, by education, by opinion. Then morality loses all significance, morality then is merely a convenience. Not the right perception of things, but the clever adjusting to circumstances - that you call morality. Suppose that you want, as individuals, to be not possessive, look what you have to fight! The whole system of society is nothing but possessiveness. If you would understand it and not be driven by circumstances which are not called moral, then you, as individuals, must begin to break away from that system voluntarily, and not be driven like so many sheep to accept the morality of un-possessiveness. Now you are driven whether you like it or not, whether you think it is sane or not; you are driven by conditions, environment, which you have created, because you are still possessive, and now perhaps another system will come along and drive you to the opposite - to be non-possessive. Surely it is not morality; it is just sheepishness to be driven by environment to be possessive or non-possessive. Whereas, to me, true morality consists in understanding fully the absurdity of possessiveness and voluntarily fighting it; not being driven either way. Now, if you look, this society is based on class-consciousness which is again the consciousness of security. As beliefs grow into religions, so possessions grow into the expression of nationality. As beliefs separate people, condition people, keep them apart, so possessiveness, expressing itself as class-consciousness and growing into nationality, keeps people apart. That is, all nationality is based on the exploitation of the majority by the few for their own benefit through the means of production. That nationality, through the instrument of patriotism, is a means of war. All nationalities, all sovereign governments, must prepare for war; it is their duty, and it is no good your being a pacifist and at the same time talking about patriotism. You cannot talk about brotherhood, and then talk about Christianity, because that denies it; no more here than in India, or in any other country. In India they can talk about Hinduism and say we are one, all humanity is one. Those are just words - hypocrisy. So all nationalities are a means of war. When I was speaking in India, they said to me (at present the Hindus are going through that disease of nationalism), "Let us look after our own country first because there are so many starving people; then we can talk about human unity", which is the same thing you talk about here. "Let us protect ourselves and then we will talk about unity, brotherhood, and all the rest of it." Now, if India is really con- cerned with the problem of starvation, or if you are really concerned with the problem of unemployment, you cannot deal merely with New Zealand's unemployment problem; it is a human problem, not the problem of one particular group called New Zealand. You cannot solve the problem of starvation as an Indian problem, or a Chinese problem, or the problem of unemployment as an English, or German, or American, or Australasian problem, but you must deal with it as a whole; and you can only deal with it as a whole when you are not nationalistic, and you are not exploited through the means of patriotism. You are not patriotic every morning when you wake up. You are only patriotic when the papers say you must be, because you must conquer your neighbour. We are therefore the barbarians, not the one invading your country. The barbarian is the patriot. To him his country is more important than humanity, man; and I say you will not solve your problems, this economic and nationality problem, so long as you are a New Zealander. You will solve it only when you are a real human being, free from all nationalistic prejudices, when you are no longer possessive, and when your mind is not divided by beliefs. Then there can be real human unity, and then the problem of starvation, the problem of unemployment, the problem of war, will disappear, because you consider humanity as a whole and not some particular people who want to exploit other people. So you see what is dividing men, what is destroying the real glory of living in which alone you can find that living reality, that immortality, that ecstasy; but to find it you must first of all be individuals. That means you must begin to understand, and therefore act, to discover what is false in the existing system, and thereby you will, as individuals, form a nucleus. You cannot alter the mass. What is the mass? Yourselves multiplied. We are waiting for the mass to act, hoping that by some miracle there will be a complete change overnight, because we do not think, we do not want to act. So long as this attitude of waiting exists, there will be greater and greater struggle, more and more suffering, lack of comprehension; life becomes a tragedy, a worthless thing. Whereas if you, as individuals, act voluntarily because you want to understand and discover, then you will become responsible, then you will not become a reformer, then there will be a complete change, not based on possessiveness, on distinctions, but on real humanity in which there is affection, there is thought, and therefore an ecstasy of living. AUCKLAND, NEW ZEALAND 1ST VASANTA SCHOOL GARDENS TALK 30TH MARCH, 1934 Friends, It seems rather a pity that on a fair morning like this we should talk about the various oppressions and cruelty that we every day support, and the various exploitations that are taking place consciously or unconsciously about us; and yet we smile through them all and try to endure them, leading a rather hideous and ugly life, trying to manage somehow to support the daily ills and the misfortunes that confront each one. Now if you consider what is taking place, you will see that though there is this oppression, this cruelty, this extraordinary exploitation by individuals of others, yet we continually are seeking satisfaction. Either you as individuals are satisfied in tolerating all these things, or you are going to change them, you are going to alter them. Occasionally, in moments of immediate contact, there is an intense burning desire to change, to uproot, and live decently, humanly, completely, and when that immediate contact is taken away with the sufferings of life, we fall back to satisfaction. So if you are merely satisfied, that is, contented with things as they are in the world, then there is nothing more to be said; and I mean that. If you are really satisfied, happy, contented to go on as you are, with things crumbling, when there is so much corruption, exploitation and cruelty, real horrors taking place in the world, if you are really satisfied with it, I am afraid my talk will be utterly futile. But if you want to alter it, and if you think that, as human beings, we ought to have a different state, different condition, different environment, not only for the select few, but for the whole of humanity, then let us consider the problem together; not that I want to dogmatize or to push you in one direction or another, influencing you to act in a particular fashion, but rather through considering together we shall come to a natural conclusion from which we must necessarily and naturally act. So there are two things open to each individual, either to do patchwork, to reform, or bring about a complete orientation of thought, a complete change. What I call patchwork is this continual alteration in the existing system of thought, but keeping the foundation as it is intact. That is patchwork, isn't it? To keep things fundamentally as they are and alter the superficial difficulties, change about the transient afflictions, but not tackle the fundamental things. Now such work and such thought based upon this idea I call patchwork or reform. It is like improving the slums of the city. Not that it is bad to improve the slums of the city; but that there should be slums, that there should be people who are exploiting, that there should be this distinction of class division, is the problem, not how much improvement you can make. Until we recognize that, and as long as there is not a radical, fundamental change, merely dealing with symptoms is not going to do anything. So I want this morning to show that so long as thought, and therefore action, is based on this idea of self-aggrandizement, or self-growth, or continually limited self-consciousness, there must be problems arising from this limited consciousness. That is, whether you make any social changes or social reform, so long as the system of thought is based on possessiveness, security, proprietary rights and so on, there must be problems which can be dealt with only symptomatically, not radically. That is, sirs, suppose there is a reform in possessions; you still think it is perfectly right that you should own your little patch of ground, that everybody else should have patches of ground. That is, you want to cling to your particular possessions and let others have their own possessions; whereas, to me the very idea of possessiveness must lead to conflict with your neighbour, must lead to distinctions as nationalities, class consciousness, snobbery; and if you are reforming how much you shall possess or how much you shall not possess, then you are dealing only symptomatically, not radically. It is like going to a doctor who deals with the symptoms and not with the cause. Let me take another example. To deal with the symptoms is to consider that you can stick to your particular religion and I can stick to mine, and let us be tolerant. Now, as I explained the other night, to me, the whole process of the foundation of a religion comes through the adherence to a particular belief or dogma. You say you are a religious person, a Christian, because you have certain beliefs, certain ideals, certain dogmas, and you say to yourself that there will be a perfect world when all the people believe as you do, or all the people in the world come to your particular form of thought; and we are trying to patch up, to reform with that attitude towards religions. To me, real reform, real change, real radical change of thought, lies not in the patchwork of reforming religions but in seeing the absurdity of religions. So long as you have beliefs, there must be divisions. So long as you are engaged in a particular form of thought, naturally you are separate from me, and there is no human contact. Then, only prejudices meet, not real human understanding. So as long as you merely want to reform, that is, to bring about changes in the existing systems of thought, of culture, of possessiveness, though you may momentarily alleviate the suffering, solve the innumerable problems that arise, you are but postponing, putting away for the moment the fundamental question, which is whether a society or a culture shall be based on self-aggrandizement, possessiveness and exploitation. So you, as individuals, have to find out what you intend to do, whether you shall belong to a society, to a system of thought, based on this self-aggrandizement, with all its nuances, with its delicate subtleties; or whether you, as individuals, see that so long as that state exists there must be wars, there must be cruelties, there must be exploitation, and therefore you, as individuals, are prepared to change completely and not merely deal symptomatically. As individuals, we are confronted with this problem, with this question, whether we will deal symptomatically, do patchwork, or bring about a complete change of thought, not based on possessiveness and self-importance. Now such an attitude will necessarily bring about by degrees a new society, a new state, a new consciousness, in which there cannot be exploitation, there cannot be this incessant struggle to exist, to merely exist. And you will only deal with this question if you are really considering, if you are concerned, if you are really suffering, not merely sitting down intellectually discussing, theoretically observing. So it is for you to decide by reason, and therefore by action, whether as individuals you will, by your own understanding, bring about a humanity in which there is real understanding, or continue with this ceaseless struggle. I have been given some questions, and I will answer these. This is what I intend to do every day. Question: Some of my friends have remarked that although they find your sayings intensely interesting, they prefer service rather than too much thinking about questions of truth. What are your observations on this point? Krishnamurti: Sir, what do you mean by service? Everybody wants to help. That is the cry of those people who think they are serving the world. They are always talking about helping the world, especially those people who belong to sects. It is their particular form of disease, because they think that by doing something, it does not matter what, they are going to help, by serving people they will help. Who is to say what is service? A man that belongs to the army, prepared to kill the barbarian that enters his country, says he is serving the country. The man that kills, the butcher, says he is serving the community. The exploiter who has the means of production in his hands, monopolized, says he is serving the community. The man who exploits beliefs, the priest, says he is serving the country, community. Who is to decide? Or shall we look at it quite differently. Do you think a flower, a rose, is ever considering that it is serving humanity, that it is helping the world by its existence because it is beautiful? On the contrary, because it is beautiful, supremely lovely, unconscious of its own magnificence, it is truly helping. Not like a man who goes about shouting that he is serving the world. That is, each one wants to use his means, or his ideas, to exploit the world, not to set the world free. Personally, if you will not misunderstand me, that is not my point of view at all. I do not want to help the world, as you would call it. I cannot help, it naturally happens. That is service. I do not desire to make others come to my particular form of belief or ask them to come into my particular cage of thought, because I hold that to have a belief is a limitation. To really serve, one must be supremely free from the limited consciousness we call the "I", the ego, self-centred consciousness; and so long as that exists, you are not really serving the world. Unless you really think, you cannot find out if you are truly helping the world. So let us not first consider whether we are helping the world, but rather find out if we have the capacity to think and to feel. To really think, mind must not be tethered to a belief. That is very simple is it not? To think really profoundly, frankly, completely, your mind cannot be held by prejudice or a certain belief, or by fear, or by preconceived ideas. To think, the mind must start anew, afresh, and not with a background of tradition. After all, tradition is only valuable when it helps you to think, not when it overpowers you by its weight. Let me put this thing differently. We all want to help. When you see suffering in the world there is an intense desire to help; but to truly help people you have to go to the fundamental cause of things. You have to discover the cause of suffering, and you can only do that if there is profound thinking. And this thinking is not mere intellectual delight, but it can only take place, this thinking, in action. Question: It is asserted here that only one or two people in the world can hope to grasp the importance of your message. Therefore the secondary teaching of modern Theosophy is necessary as a substitute for the salvation of the world. What have you to say? Krishnamurti: Sir, first of all you must find out what I have to say before you can say it is impossible. This is what I want to say. Our whole system of thought and action and living is based on individual aggrandizement and growth at the expense of others. That is a fact, is it not? And so long as that fact in the world exists there must be suffering, there must be exploitation, there must be the division of classes; and no forms of religion can bring about peace, because they are the very creation of human cravings, they are the means of exploitation. That living reality, which I say exists - call it God, truth, or whatever name you like - that supreme intelligence which I say exists, which I say I have realized, is to be found only through freedom from the hindrances which you have created through the search for security and comfort, the security of religions and that artificial security of possessiveness. Surely, to understand what I am saying is not very difficult. The difficulty lies in putting what I am saying into action. Now, to put it into action does not need courage, but rather comprehension. Most of us are waiting for the world to change, rather than beginning to change ourselves. We are waiting for the world system to alter this attitude with regard to possessiveness, and are not trying to find out if we can, as individuals, be really free from possessiveness. To understand this, this freedom from possessiveness, one must discover intelligently what are one's needs. You know, when you have found out what are your needs, then you are not possessive. Each man will know his needs, very clearly, very simply, if he intelligently approaches it; but there cannot be the discovery of what are his needs so long as mind is caught up in possessiveness, greed and exploitation. So when you discover what are your needs, you are not making a compromise with your needs and the world's conditions which are based on possessiveness. I hope I am explaining this. What I want to say is that there cannot be human, vital relationships, or living joyously in the plenitude of life in the present - which to me is the only eternity - so long as mind and heart are crippled through fear; and to overcome that fear we have created innumerable hindrances, such as religions, beliefs, possessiveness, securities. Hence, as individuals, we continually give suffering, continually add to the struggle, to the chaos of the world. Surely that is very simple, really, if you come to think of it. If you really want to find out what I am saying, please examine one of the ideas I put forward and carry it out in action; then you will see that it does become practical, not vague, theoretical, impossible to grasp. Then you don't want any secondary teaching. You know, this idea that as people do not understand, therefore you must give them something they will understand, is really a clever way of exploitation. It is the attitude of the capitalist class. It is the attitude of the man that has many possessions. That is, he wants to feed the world, to guide the world, he wants to guide the other man; whereas, I desire to awaken the other man so that he will act for himself. If I can awaken him to his own strength, to his own understanding, to his own responsibility, to his own action, then I destroy class distinction. Then I do not keep him in the nursery to be exploited as a child by one who is supposed to know more. That is the whole attitude of religions, that you can never find out what truth is - only one or two people find out - therefore let me, as a mediator, help you; therefore I become your exploiter. That is the whole process of religion. It is a clever means of exploiting, being ruthless to keep the people in subjection, as the capitalist class does in exactly the same way - one class by spiritual means, one class by mundane. But if you look at it, both are ruthless exploitations. (Hear! Hear!) Sirs, please don't bother to say "hear, hear." What is important is to act, not intellectually agree with me. That has no value. Agreement can only take place in action. That means, when you say "hear, hear", that you have to stand out alone against society, against your neighbours, against your family, against everything that society for generations has built up. That demands great perception, not courage, not this heroic attitude towards life, but great and direct perception of what is true. Now, to me, life is not meant to be a school. Life is not a thing from which you learn, it is meant to be lived - to be lived supremely, intelligently, divinely. Whereas, if you make it into a constant battle, struggle, continual effort, then life becomes hideous; and you have made it so because your whole thought is self-growth, self-expansion, self-aggrandizement, and as long as that exists, life becomes a hideous struggle. So that is what I want to say. Surely that is very easily understood. Easily understood in a sense. One cannot grasp at once all its significance. One can see in what direction it lies, and to change one's attitude there must be great affliction, not contentment, great burning conflict which will force you to discover; and heaven knows, we have conflicts all day long, but we have trained our mind to be cunning, and so pass over these conflicts lightly, escape from them. Hence we may have conflict after conflict, problem after problem. Our mind has learnt to be cunning, and therefore to escape, Question: Will you please explain in greater detail what you mean by your statement that "your teachers are your destroyers." How can a priest, provided he is honest in purpose, be a destroyer? Krishnamurti: Sir, why do you want a priest; to keep you morally correct? Is that it? Or to lead you to truth? Or to act as your interpreter between God and yourself? Or merely to perform a rite, a ceremony of marriage or death, or of Sunday morning? Why do you want priests? When we find out why we need them, then we shall discover they are destroyers. If you say a priest is necessary to keep our morality straight, surely then you are no longer moral, even though the priest may force you to be moral; for to me morality is not compulsion; it is a voluntary action. Morality is not born of fear, conditioned by circumstances. True morality is voluntary understanding and therefore action. Therefore to me a priest is unnecessary to uphold your integrity. Or if you say he is necessary to lead you to truth as a mediator, as an interpreter, then I say both you and the priest must know what truth is. To be led somewhere you must know where you are going, and the leader must also know where he is going; and if you know where truth is, you don't want a leader. Please, that is not cleverness. These are just facts. But now what have we done? We have preconceived what truth is, as contrast, as an opposite from that which we are. We say truth is tranquil, truth is wise, unbounded. Because we are not that, therefore we have made that into an opposite, and we want someone to help us to get there. What does that mean? Someone to help you to run away from this conflict to something which you suppose must be truth. Therefore, the priest is helping you to run away from realities, from facts. I was talking to a priest the other day, and he told me that he maintained his church because there was so much unemployment. He said, "You know, the unemployed people have no homes, no beauty, no life, no music, no light, no colour, nothing - horror, a hideous life; and if they come once a week to the church, at least there is beauty, there is some quietness, there is some perfume, and they go away pacified for the rest of the week, and come back again." Surely is that not the greatest form of exploitation? That is, this particular priest was trying to pacify them in their conflict, trying to quiet them, in other words dope them from trying to discover the real cause of unemployment. Now, if you say priests are necessary to perform the rites, the ceremonies of Christianity, then let us inquire whether those rites and ceremonies are necessary. Are they necessary? As I don't attend them, I cannot answer. They have no value to me; but to you who attend them, are they valuable? In what way do you profit by them? You go to them on Sunday morning, feel very devotional, uplifted, whatever it is, and for the rest of the week you are either exploited or are exploiting. There is still cruelty, and all the rest of it. So where is the value, the necessity of the priest? If you say it is a means of earning money, then we will put it in quite a different category altogether. If you treat it merely as a profession, as that of the law, the navy, the army, or any other profession, then it is quite a different thing, and most religions with their priests are that and nothing else but that - an old profession. So if you look to a priest for your guidance as a teacher, I say he is your destroyer or exploiter. Please, I have nothing against Christian priests or Hindu priests - to me they are all the same. I say they are unessential to humanity. And please do not accept what I am saying as final authority to you, a dogmatic statement. Look at it, consider it yourself. If you accept what I am saying, I will also become your priest; therefore I will become your exploiter. Whereas, if you really consider the matter all around, not for a passing moment but completely, you will see that religions with all their sectarian teachers, are really keeping humanity apart. They are increasing the horrors of war, class distinctions, nationalities, and therefore all these things lead to war and greater exploitations in which there is no real affection, real love, real thoughtfulness. Question: Is there a future life? Krishnamurti: Are you really interested in it? I suppose you must be or you would not have put the question. Now, wait a minute. Why do you inquire if there is a future life; just for amusement or curiosity, or because you are afraid in the present, therefore you want to find out what is the future, or merely for information? Now, you know some of the modern scientists, some of the well-known scientists, are saying that there is a future life. They say that through mediums one can discover for oneself that there is life after death. All right, let us take it for granted there is. What if there is a future life? What have you done in discovering that there is a future life? You are not any happier, any more intelligent, any more human, thoughtful, affectionate. You are back where you were before. All you have learnt is another fact - that there is a life hereafter. It may be a consolation; but even then what? You say, "It gives me certainty that I shall live next life." Then what? Even though it gives you certainty that you are going to live, you have precisely the same problem, the same troubles, the same transient joys and pleasures although there is another life. Whereas, to me, though it may be a fact, it is of very little importance. Sir, immortality is not in the future, im- mortality or eternity, or whatever you like to call it, is now present; and the present you can only understand when the mind is free of time. Now I am afraid I have to be a little metaphysical, but I hope you do not mind. It is not really metaphysical. As long as the mind is a slave to time, there must be the fear of death, the fear and the hope of a future life, and a constant inquiry into that question. That is, where there is fear there is already a slow decay, a slow death though you may be living. The very inquiry into the future shows that you are already dying. To live completely, to live in that plenitude of the present, in the eternal now, mind must be free of time. Is that not so? Time, I am not using the word as we generally use it, for convenience, to catch a boat or tram, and the next appointment, and so on, I am using the word time as memory. If each morning you were born anew, afresh, not with all the memories of yesterday, with all the burdens, with all the encrustations of the past, then each day would be new, fresh, simple; and to be able to live in that, is to be free of time. That is, mind has become a storehouse of memory, afflicted by the past, burdened by the innumerable experiences which we have had. Please, I hope you will think with me with regard to this, otherwise you will not quite understand it. So, with the burden of the past, the burden of innumerable memories, we confront, we meet every experience - a fresh experience, a fresh thought, a fresh environment, a fresh day; with the background of the past we meet the present. Is that not so? If you are a Christian, you have the background of a Christian mind, Christian dogmas, beliefs, tradition, and you try to meet life with those ideas. Or if you are a socialist, or any other person, you have certain prejudices, certain ideas, certain well-defined dogmas, and you meet life with that background, with those spectacles. Thus you are meeting the present continually with a background of the past, and therefore you do not understand the present. There is a continual process of misunderstanding, which creates memory; and therefore, there is the accumulation, the accentuation of this memory, and hence the desire to know if I shall live a next life. Whereas, if you were able to meet everything anew, with an uninfected mind, with a mind that is not burdened with possessiveness of the past, or with the memory of a future, then you will see that there is no such thing as death; that there is no fear. Then life is con- tinually becoming an ecstasy, not a fearful, horrible struggle; but that demands great alertness, awareness of thought, of mind and heart in the present. I am afraid the questioner will be disappointed. He wants to know if there is or if there is not - a categorical reply, yes or no. I am afraid there cannot be a categorical reply. Beware of categorical replies, "yes" and "no." Is it not more important, really, to know how to live than to find out what happens when you die? It is only the dying already who want to know what happens after death - not the living. So let us inquire and find out if we can live richly, humanly, completely, divinely, instead of finding out what lies beyond. Then you will find out what lies beyond, when you know how to live supremely, intelligently. Then you will find out what is beyond. Then, that discovery is not a theoretical thing, it is a fact; then, you will discover that it has very little significance, because there is no such thing as "beyond." Life is one complete whole, without a beginning or an end. Then that ecstasy, that wisdom, brings about a completeness of living in the present. Question: Will Britain become Fascist, and is it a progressive movement? Krishnamurti: No movement based on possessiveness, keeping class distinctions, encouraging fear, can be a progressive or a true movement. I have read some Fascist books, and they talk about the divine right of possessiveness; keeping class distinctions, nationality, the limitations of frontiers. Surely that cannot be a human movement. Whereas, a true movement, which destroys these, which helps people to understand and think, that surely is a real movement, a spiritual movement, a human movement. You know these movements are encouraged or discouraged by individuals like yourselves. If they supply your demands, or possessiveness, guarantee your stronghold, your own investments, spiritual or mundane, you encourage them; and you discourage those which are trying to belittle, and help to destroy those that show the falseness of possessiveness. To me, there is no such thing as instinctive human possessiveness. All possessiveness is an artificial thing, created by an artificial, wrong society. Instinctively, human beings are not possessive. They have been trained by circumstances which they have created. So whether Fascism is a progressive movement or not is of little importance. What is of importance is whether you, as individuals, see that so long as in the world, with its governments, so long as in the world there exists this continual self-aggrandizement, subtly, consciously or unconsciously, this self-importance, spiritually or mundanely, there must be sorrow, there must be continual cries of pain, there must be wars, there must be exploitation, and there will be no real love. Therefore it is for you as individuals to think anew, to discover, to find out if your whole basis of thought and action is based on this limited self-consciousness. AUCKLAND NEW ZEALAND 2ND VASANTA SCHOOL GARDENS TALK 31ST MARCH, 1934 Friends, Most people who are at least thoughtful desire to find out if there is something which is more lasting, in which life is more full, complete, and they describe that reality as God, truth, or life itself. Now, to me, there is such a thing as reality; something that is enduring, complete, eternal, but as I have been saying in my last two talks, the very search for truth is to deny it, because that reality is to be a discovery, not to be followed. I hope you see the difference. If we go after truth, that reality, you must know what it is, you must have a preconception, but if you begin to discover it, then that discovery is real and not the search for truth, so I want in my brief talk this morning to help you rather to discover it, and not to follow it. First of all truth, or that reality, is not to be found by running after it, because when we seek something, it indicates that our mind, our whole being is trying to escape from that conflict in which mind and heart are caught up. Whereas, if we can become conscious, aware of the many hindrances which we create through fear, and then free the mind from that fear, from those hindrances, we shall discover what that eternal life is. That is, instead of trying to find out what truth is, let us discover what are the hindrances which we have created through fear, and in understanding the cause of fear and its many hindrances then we shall find out what that thing is which is indescribable. It is no good talking to a prisoner about freedom, to a man who is in prison; he will know what freedom is the moment he is out of prison. But most of us are desirous of finding out what freedom is before we are conscious of what prisons are; and as long as we are merely seeking freedom, reality, richness of life, we cannot understand, it must be imaginative, unreal, shaped out of a limited, conscious mind. Whereas, if we can find out what are the prison walls that enclose the mind and heart, and then free the mind from its hindrances, surely, then, we shall be able to find out that which is. So what are the hindrances that we have created? Is it not first of all authority, born of fear? Mind is caught up by some authority; driven, shaped, moulded by some external authority; either religious authority or social, or you have developed an inner authority. You know, one first of all accepts external authority, because we are incapable of acting, thinking and feeling for ourselves, so we set up an outside authority, that of religion, that of a teacher, that of a social system; and then we think we reject that external authority, and develop an inner authority, an inner law, which is only the reaction from the external. That is, instead of finding out what is this external authority which we have set up to be our guide, we reject that and we think we have to find out a law for ourselves, individually, and thereby live according to that law. That is what most people do. There is an external, objective authority which they reject or understand, and develop an inner authority, a subjective authority. Now, to me, authority, whether objective or subjective, is the same, because authority implies shaping, an imitation, a control, a conditioning, whether imposed externally or by inward effort and exertion. So, that, to me, is the first hindrance. A man that understands does not need authority. There is only perception, and that perception does not demand the imitation of authority. I hope you see all this. First of all, one is a slave to social authority, religious authority, and you gradually develop by conflict, by trouble, what you call a subjective authority, and you say, "It is my understanding. I must obey that law which I have found out for myself." While the mind is merely the instrument of obedience, surely such a mind cannot understand. Understanding is perception, not an imposition, either externally or inwardly. Again, to repeat the same thing put differently, we have external ideals imposed on us through education, through politics, through social influence, environment. Then we feel they are confining, limiting, controlling, dominating, usurping our individual thought, so we develop our own ideals - we think we develop our own ideals, beliefs, to which we try to conform. That is what we have done; we have rejected the external and are obeying the inward ideal which we have established for ourselves, and we think we have made tremendous progress. What we have done is merely rejected the external, and established our own beliefs, and we are trying to imitate, to follow those beliefs. Now this idea of following, imitating, being guided, controlled, dominated, is, to me, the very first hindrance which prevents the clear perception of any experience, or that fulfillment in perfect understanding, because our whole mind, when it is obeying, being controlled, is dominated by this idea of gain. We think of wisdom, understanding, completeness, in terms of accumulation, not as infinite pliability, therefore eternal. That thing which is pliable is lasting, but that which is burdened, the result of many, many accumulations, therefore capable of resistance, is transient and cannot understand. I am afraid I see by the faces there is very little understanding of what I am saying. Wait a minute, sirs; I am afraid by listening to one or two talks you are not going to understand what I am saying. What brings about understanding is not listening, merely listening, but rather trying to fulfil in action. So to put it differently, mind and heart are the result of environment, and then your environment controls the way you think and the way you feel. Do not say: "Is that all - mind? There must be something more, something which is more lasting.'` I said to discover that, let us begin from things we know, and from that start - not from a mysterious thing which we do not know, about which we can but romance. So mind and heart, thought and feeling, are the result of environment, and so long as you are a slave to that environment, there cannot be understanding; you cannot then master environment, and to master environment is to understand it. That is, environment is after all, the social system and that system which we call religion, made up of many doctrines, beliefs, dogmas, innumerable prejudices, and the mind is a slave to this environment. Take for instance, if you depend on mind for your livelihood, as most people do, as everyone must, you are controlled to a great extent by the beliefs that you hold. Suppose that you are a Roman Catholic, and you want to find a job in a Protestant place, or if Protestant, you want to find a job in a Roman Catholic institution or office; if they discover your beliefs, it might not be so easy to find a job, so you put away your beliefs or accept what the other says momentarily, because you desire to earn money, because you must have money. Through external environment, mentally, you are under control, so your beliefs are merely the result of environment, conditioned by the environment; and as long as you do not break down the false environment of society and religion, your beliefs and ideals are worth- less, because they are but the result of environment born of fear. So to understand that which is lasting, eternal, there must be conflict between the individual and the environment, and only in that conflict can you pierce through the walls of limitation. We accept thoughtlessly or unconsciously so many conditions imposed by society or by religion, accept them as being true. Traditionally, our mind is driven into a mould, and we unconsciously accept these things, and therefore we are slaves to these things; and it is only by continually questioning, by constant awareness, that we can free the mind from the environment, and therefore be master of the environment. Question: Virtue does not appear to be a very prominent feature in your teachings. Why is this? Has the virtuous life so small a part to play in the realization of truth? Krishnamurti: What do you mean by virtue? Do you mean by virtue, a contrast to vice? That is, do you call courage, bravery, a virtue in contrast to fear? First of all, one is afraid, and you think you must develop the idea of courage, so you pursue courage; that is, you are running away from fear, and this process of running away from fear you call braveness, courage, which becomes virtue. To me, a man that pursues a virtue is no longer virtuous; whereas, if you begin to find out what causes fear, not cover up fear by the idea of what you think is brave, but try to find out what is the fundamental cause of fear, then in the discovery of the cause you are neither courageous nor fearful, you are free of both these opposites. After all, virtue is merely the result of a false environment, isn't it? To resist the environment, you must have great character nowadays. At least that is what is called character. That is, society has created, or rather we have helped to create a society in which to be non-possessive is considered a great virtue. Isn't it? We have established a society where possessiveness indicates constant fight with your neighbour, consciously or unconsciously, constant battle, self-assertion, continual cutting out of others; and a man who does not want to do that, you call a virtuous man, a noble man. To me it has nothing to do with nobility or virtue. If the environment is changed, if the social conditions are changed, then to be possessive or non-possessive is the same thing, then you call possessiveness neither virtue nor an evil thing. Whereas now, as society is constituted, to break away from these false standards is considered either a virtue or a sin. But if we begin to alter the environment in which the mind and heart are held, then this whole idea of virtue and sin have a different meaning altogether; because, to me, virtue is not to be sought after, to be gained, to be possessed, or sin to be abhorred or run away from - whatever is meant by sin. So to me, to live naturally, that demands a great deal of intelligence, not brutal, savage, unthinking life, primitive life - I do not mean that when I use the word "naturally." To live a natural life, full, spontaneous life, creative, intelligent life, you can only do that when you understand the false standards and the true standards of society, and have broken away from it because you understand their significance; therefore, you are no longer bound by this pursuit of the opposite which we call virtue. To put it very briefly, when you are afraid you are seeking courage, and we call that courage a virtue; whereas, really, what are you doing? You are running away from fear. You are trying to cover up fear by an idea, what you call courage. So momentarily you may cover up fear by an idea of what you call courage, but fear will continue to exist and show itself in different forms; whereas, if you try to find out what is the fundamental cause of fear, then mind is not caught up in the conflict of opposites. Question: Do you think that the method of psychoanalysis, the bringing of the motives of the unconscious mind into a knowledge of the conscious, will assist the individual to free his mind from the primitive and egotistical complexes and cravings, and will thereby allow his thought to carry him on to that happiness of which you speak? Krishnamurti: That is, the mind has many complexes, and the question is whether you can free the mind of these by self-analysis. Is that not the question? The mind and heart have many hindrances, impediments which we call complexes - unconscious, hidden. Can we free them; can we uproot them through the processes of self-analysis, and thereby free the mind from the egotistical and limited point of view? I am afraid you will have to follow this a little bit carefully, because it may be the first time you have heard it, and you may find it rather complicated, but it is not. To me, the mind can be free of those impediments only in full consciousness, when your whole being is active, aware. Now, in the process of self-analysis, your whole being is not functioning; only that part of you which you call mind, thought, intellect. With that one part of the mind you are trying to discover the hidden complexes; whereas, I say, you can bring all these hidden hindrances into full conscious action, only when you are fully aware in the present. I will put it differently. Now suppose you have the complex of snobbishness. Most people have it. How are you going to find out? To find out, to me, does not lie through this process of self-analysis; that is, intellectually to look into the actions that have taken place, and so discover this idea of snobbishness. First of all, you want to discover if you are a snob or not. You don't want to alter it, but to discover it, isn't it so? Wait a minute, please. Just follow this. When you discover it, then you will act one way or the other. First of all, you have to find out if you are a snob, so how are we going to discover it? Only when you are fully conscious, fully aware of that which you are saying and feeling at the moment of saying and feeling - not after you have said and felt. Is that not so? That is, if you are fully conscious of what you are saying and what you are thinking, then in that full awareness you will discover for yourself if you are a snob or not; not by sitting down and intellectually analyzing an event. I know there are innumerable questions arising out of this, but I cannot answer all those. But if you think of it, you will see that by this way of being continually alert, fully conscious in that which you are doing, you will bring the unconscious, hidden, into full consciousness, and thereby you will create the disturbance which is necessary, and by that disturbance you will free the mind of that complex, of that hindrance. Question: You seem to regard the pursuit of ideals as an escape from life. Is there no substance of truth in the highest ideals? Krishnamurti: Why do we want ideals? I do not say they are not truths; but why do we want them? We say we need them because we cannot, without a standard, a measure, an ideal, guide our lives through the constant battles and struggles of life. Is that not it? So we want a standard, a continual measurement by which to judge our actions in daily life. What does that indicate? That we are more interested in the ideal, in the measurement, than in the conflicts, the struggles, the sorrows which confront us. So, as they are so large, so conflicting, so immense, these struggles, we establish ideals as a means of escape from them. Whereas, to me, to understand the conflict, the troubles, the sufferings, mind must be free to understand them as they are, not by a measure, not by a standard. Surely, when you are really in great conflict, great suffering, at that moment you are not thinking of the ideal, of what you should do and what you should not do. You are so consumed by the suffering, you want to find out. Then you are not looking for an ideal to lead you out of that. It is only when suffering diminishes, quietens down, that you turn to an ideal to help you out of that suffering. To me, all ideals must be the means of alleviation of suffering, and, therefore, cannot possibly explain to you the reason of suffering. Take the average person, and you will see that he has innumerable ideals, many ideals, beliefs, and according to those he is trying to live all day long, if he at all thinks about it: so he makes of life a continual battle between what are facts and what he wants to be. Now, if he realizes, fundamentally, what are facts, and what are real, and recognizes their significance, then he will find out the very root of comfort, and therefore free himself from these false standards, false measurements, which are continually trying to shape his mind to a particular pattern. Question: Do you believe in Communism, as understood by the masses? Krishnamurti: I don't know what is understood by the masses, so I cannot explain that. So what is it, now? Let us look at it, not from the point of view of any "ism", but from the point of view of the ordinary human state. How can there be real understanding of peoples when you are considering yourself as a New Zealander, and I am considering myself as a Hindu? How can we contact each other? How can there be a vital relationship between us, a human understanding between us? Or if we divide ourselves by certain labels, you calling yourselves Christians and I calling myself Hindu, with certain prejudices, dogmas, creeds, how can there be real brotherhood? We can talk about tolerance, which is an intellectual invention to keep you where you are and to keep me where I am, and try to be friendly. This does not mean I am talking of uniformity; now there is uniformity. You are all of one belief, one ideal, one dogma, though you may vary in that prison, painting each bar differently; but it is a prison, and you want to retain your prison with its decorations, and the Hindu wants to keep his prison with its decorations, and they try to be brotherly, and this brotherhood is called tolerance. Whereas, to me, the whole idea is the very negation of real understanding, human unity. So through the process of time, you may be driven as so many slaves to accept Communism, as now you accept Capitalism; and in that force of being driven, there cannot be voluntary action, as now there cannot be voluntary action. So if you merely accept either, and live in either, surely you are not being creatively individual. You are merely like so many sheep, either capitalistic sheep or communistic sheep, driven by environment, condition, forced to accept. Surely such a thing is not moral; such a thing is not rich or spiritual, true, And I say the true human state can only come about when you, as individuals, voluntarily do these things, because you see the necessity, the immense profundity in this - not merely superficial excitation. Then there is the possibility of individuals living creatively, fully; not when you are driven. Question: What do you consider is the cause of unemployment? Krishnamurti: You know we have built up a structure for many centuries, for many generations, a structure based on individual competitiveness, ruthless self-security, where the most clever, cunning, gets to the top, and gets the whole directive means into his hands. It is obvious. We see this everywhere, and naturally, when the world is divided up into nationalities, which are the culmination of that possessiveness and the greed of individuals, naturally there must be unequal distribution, therefore naturally, unemployment. You know, to me, it is very simple to see this. Perhaps for you it is very complicated, though you may be more educated than I am, though you may have read a great deal. The cause, to me, is very simple. So what are we going to do? That is, you will tell me; "Why don't you talk about the common conditions of labour, work for the change of economic conditions, then everything will be all right; so why not concentrate your whole mind on that particular subject, and then alter it?" How can I alter the whole of society of which you and I are a part? How can we alter it? By first of all having an intelligent attitude, and therefore action, towards the whole of life. That is, you cannot take up the economic problem by itself and say, "Solve that, and everything else is solved." The economic problem is merely the symptom of the whole human problem, so if we can create an intelligent opinion and therefore intelligent action as a whole, concerning all human beings, then we shall act definitely with regard to the economic conditions. So I feel that what I have to do is to create an opinion, not merely an intellectual opinion, but an opinion born of action; and then, when there is such an opinion, then, being intelligent, you will use any system, any intelligent system to bring about a complete change in the economic system. Question: You do not believe in possession or exploitation; but without one or the other how could you travel or lecture to the world? Krishnamurti: I will tell you very simply. To live in the world without exploitation, you must withdraw completely to a desert island. As the system is - as it is now - to live at all, if you live in that system, you must exploit it. Let us understand what I mean by exploitation. Now, to me, if you do not discover for yourself intelligently what are your needs, then you become an exploiter. If you discover for yourselves, intelligently, what are your needs, then you are not an exploiter; but that demands a great deal of intelligence. We have, first of all, many things because we think by the possession of many things we shall be happy. So in order to possess those many things we must exploit; whereas, if you really thought out what are your essential needs, in that there is no exploitation, really, if you come to think of it. And I have found out for myself what are my needs. With regard to my travel, friends ask me to go to different places, and I go. If they don't ask me, I don't travel; and even if I don't talk or teach, well I can do something else. Now, if I wanted to convert you all to a particular form of thought, and force you, and collect funds to alter it - that I would call exploitation. That which I am talking about is the inevitable, whether you like it or not, and the intelligent man intelligently accepts the inevitable. So I do not feel that I am exploiting, and I know I am not, nor am I possessive. Again, that sense of possessiveness - to be really free of all that, one has to be so very alert, aware, so as not to deceive oneself, because in the thought that one is free of possessiveness may lie a great deal of self-deception. One so often thinks that one is free, but lives really in the cloak of self-deception. The moment your need is satisfied, you do not cling to it; you do not feel proprietorial rights over it. Question: Would it give you any surprise if the Christ of the Gospels were suddenly to appear, so every eye should see him? Krishnamurti: You know, mind wants miracles, romantic ideas, extraordinary supernatural phenomena. Not that there are not miracles, not that there are not supernatural phenomena; but we seek them because our minds and hearts are so poor, so empty, so wretched, so ugly, and we think we can overcome that poverty of mind and heart by seeking those miracles, running and chasing after phenomena. And the more you pursue phenomena and miracles, the less you are rich, the less plenitude of mind and heart, the less affection. When there is the plenitude of heart and mind, then whether there are miracles or superphysical phenomena will have very little significance. Now, we create such divisions, such distinctions between the physical and superphysical, because the physical is so intolerable, so ugly. We want to run away, and anyone that can lead you to the superphysical, you follow, and you call that spiritual; but it is nothing else but another form of real, gross materialism. Whereas, true spirituality consists in living harmoniously, with perfect unity in your heart and mind, because there is understanding, and in that understanding there is the delight of living. AUCKLAND, NEW ZEALAND TALK TO THEOSOPHISTS 31ST MARCH, 1934 Friends, I will just say a few words before I attempt to answer some of these questions. First of all, I should like to say that what I am going to say should not be taken in a partisan spirit. Most of you here are probably Theosophists, with certain definite ideals and ideas, with certain definite teachings, and you think I hold contrary views and make out that I belong to another camp with other ideals and beliefs. Let us rather approach the whole thing from the point of view of discovery rather than trying to say, "We believe in this, and you don't; therefore, we are upholders of certain ideas which you are trying to destroy." Now that spirit, that kind of attitude, indicates opposition rather than understanding; that you have something which you desire to protect, and if anyone questions what you have, you immediately will say that he is attacking or I am attacking. It is not at all my intention to attack anything, but rather to help you to discover if what you are upholding is true. If it is true, then no one can attack it, and it does not matter if anyone attacks it, if what you hold is real; and you can only find out what is real by considering it, not protecting it, not being on the defensive. You know, wherever I go Theosophists ask me, as do other organizations, to speak to them; and Theosophists with whom I have lived for so long have taken up this unfortunate attitude, that I am attacking them, destroying their pet beliefs, which they must protect at all costs, and all the nonsense of it. Whereas, I feel if we can really consider together, reason together, and see what we have in our hands that we want to protect, then instead of belonging to any one particular camp, or particular section of thought, we shall naturally understand what is true; and that which is true has no party. It is neither yours nor mine. So that is my attitude in addressing you, and in talking anywhere: to help you to discover -and I mean this honestly - if what you hold is really lasting, or a thing that you have built up out of conceit, out of self-protection, self-preservation, out of search for security. Such things have no value though they may wear the clothing of surety, of certainty and of wisdom. Now, sirs, I would like to say that, to me, truth has no aspects. We are in the habit, especially Theosophists I think, and some others besides, of saying that truth has many aspects: Christianity is one aspect, Buddhism another, Hinduism another, and so on. This merely indicates that we want to stick to our own particular temperament and our own prejudices, and be tolerant to other people's prejudices. Whereas, to me, truth has no aspects; it is one, and that which is complete, whole, has no aspects. It is not like a light with many coloured lamps. That is, you place coloured lamps over that light, and then try to be tolerant to a red light if you are a green light, and invent that unfortunate word tolerance, which is so artificial, a dry thing that has no value. Surely you are not tolerant to your brother, to your children. When there is real affection there is no tolerance, so, it is only when the heart has withered, that we talk about tolerance. I, personally, do not care what you believe or do not believe, as my affection is not based on belief. Belief is an artificial thing; whereas affection is the innateness of things, and when that affection withers, then we try to spread brotherhood through the world and talk about tolerance, the unity of religions. But where there is real understanding there is no talk about tolerance. Understanding does not lie through books. You can be students of books for many years, and if you do not know how to live, then all your knowledge withers; it has no substance, no value. Whereas, one moment of full awareness, full conscious understanding, brings about real, lasting peace; not a thing that is static, but that peace which is continually in movement, unlimited. Now I wonder how I am going to answer all these questions. Question: Can a ceremony be helpful, and yet be not limiting? Krishnamurti: Do you really want to go into the question, or do you just want to deal with it superficially? How many of you really perform ceremonies? It has become, unfortunately, a subject over which you quarrel in the T. S. Now what is a ceremony? Not the putting on of a tie, clean- ing yourself, eating, or the appreciation of beauty - because I have discussed with people, and they have trotted out all these arguments. They say, "We go to church because there is so much beauty in it. It is our self-expression. Is not putting on a suit and cleaning your teeth, is that not a ceremony?" Surely this is not ceremony. The appreciation of beauty is not ceremony. You do not attend church or attend a ceremony to self-express. So ceremony as you use it has a very definite meaning. A ceremony, as far as I can make out, according to your own usage of that word, is where you either hope to advance spiritually through its efficacy, or you attend it in order to spread in the world spiritual forces. Shall we limit it to that, and not bring in extraneous arguments? Is that not so? Ceremony is only applicable where you are spreading spiritual force, and in which you hope to gain spiritual advancement. Let us examine these two things. First of all, when you say you are spreading spiritual force in the world, how do you know that you are doing this? Either it must be based on authority, acceptance of someone else's edicts or precepts, or you feel that you are spreading it. So let us put away the authority of another, because that is childish. If someone else merely says, "Do that", and you do it, then there is no value; it does not matter who it is. Then we merely reduce ourselves into children, and become the instruments of authority. Therefore there is no vitality in our actions. We are merely imitative machines. Now we might think that by attending a church we feel elated, we feel full of vitality and a sense of well-being. I am not insulting when I say that by taking to drink you feel the same, or attending a stimulating lecture; but why do you place ceremony as being much more important, more vital, more essential, than appreciation of something which really stimulates you? If you really examine it, it is much more than appreciation of beauty which stimulates. You hope by attending a ceremony, by some miraculous process your whole being is going to be cleansed. Now to me, such an idea is, if I may say so, really absurd. Such ideas are instruments of true exploitation. Whereas, really being integral, complete within oneself, you cannot look to someone else to cleanse your mind and heart. One has to discover for oneself. So, to me, this whole conception that ceremonies are going to give you spiritual understanding and attainment, is really the very thing which every so-called materialistic person thinks. He wants to be somebody in this world, he wants to have money, so he begins to accumulate, possess, exploit, to be ruthless; and the man who wants to be somebody in the spiritual world does exactly the same thing, only he calls it spiritual. That is, behind it all, there is this idea of gain; and to me such an idea, the desire to attain, is in itself a limitation. And if you perform ceremonies as a means of gain, then all ceremonies are but limitation. Or if you go and perform ceremonies as essential, as necessary, then you are merely accepting it on authority or tradition. Surely such a mind cannot understand what life is, what the whole process of living is. I am surprised that this question should arise wherever I go, especially among those who are supposed to be a little more advanced, whatever that may mean, who have been students of philosophy for years, who are supposed to be thoughtful. It but indicates that they have really sought substitutes. You are fed up with your old churches and institutions, and you want some new toy to play with, and you accept that new toy without finding out if it has any value; you cannot find out if anything has value so long as you are merely seeking substitutes. Have I dealt with that question completely, comprehensively? I would really like to discuss this with people, this idea of ceremonies. I have discussed with those who have recently become priests, and they give me, not some valid reason, but some reason based on authority, as "We have been told", or some kind of excuse for their action. Now, there is another aspect of it which is completely different. That is this idea that in ceremony lies magic - not white and black magic, I am not talking about that - that the mystery of life is unfolded through a ceremony. You know, I have talked with some Roman Catholics, and they will tell you that that is their reason why they go to church. That is not the reason given by any of the ceremonialists of the Theosophical bent, so do not use that club against me again. Now life is mystery. There is something immense, magical, about life; but to pierce its veil is not to create spurious, unnatural things to discover the true mystery - and, to me, these sacerdotal ceremonies are unnatural. They are really a means of exploitation. Question: It has been suggested that the power that speaks through you belongs to the higher planes, and cannot be sent below the intuitional, so that we must listen rather with our intuition if we would get your message. Is that correct? Krishnamurti: What do you mean by intuition? What does intuition mean to you all? You say it is something which we feel instinctively without going through the process of logical reason: a "hunch", as the Americans would say. Now I really question whether your intuition is real or merely the glorified unconscious hopes; subtle, deceitful longings. You know, when you hear reincarnation spoken of, or you hear a lecturer talk about reincarnation, or you read of it in a book, and you jump to it and say, "I feel it is true, it must be", you call that intuition. Is it really intuition, or is it the hope that you will have another opportunity to live next life; therefore you cling to it, and call it intuition? Wait a minute. I am not denying that there is intuition, but what the average person, what the usual person calls intuition, that is not true, that is something without reason, validity, without understanding behind it. Now the questioner says that it has been suggested that the power that speaks through me belongs to the higher planes, and cannot be sent below the intuitional. Surely you understand what I am talking about. Don't you? Pretty obvious. Now wait a minute. It is easy to understand what I am talking about, but if you don't pursue it, carry it out in action, there is no understanding; and because you don't carry it out in action, you rather transfer it to the intuitional world, and therefore say it is suggested that I am speaking from the higher plane, and therefore you must go to your higher and try to understand what that means. In other words, although you understand what I am trying to say, fairly well, it is difficult to put it into action; therefore, you say let us rather remove it to a higher plane, and from there we can discuss. Is that not so? If you say, "I do not understand what you are talking about", then there is a possibility of further discussion. I will then try to explain it differently, so that we can discuss it, go into it, consider it together; but to start with the assumption that to understand me you must go to the higher plane - surely there is something radically wrong in that attitude. What is the higher plane, except that which is thought? Why go any further? But do you not see, my point is we are starting with something mysterious, something far away, and from that we try to find out the obvious, the realities, and, therefore,there are bound to be great deceptions, great hypocritical actions, falseness. Whereas, if we start with things that we do know, which are very simple to find out if you give your thought, then you can go really far, infinitely. But it is absurd to start from the mysterious, and then try to relegate life to that mystery, which may be romanticism, false, imaginative. Such an attitude of mind which says, "To understand you we must listen with our intuition", may be false, so that is why I said your intuitions may be utterly false. How can you listen with something which may be false, which may be your hopes, predilections, longings or dreams? Why not listen with your ears, with your reason? From that, when you know the limitation of reason, then you can go - that is, to climb high you must begin low; but you have already climbed high, and you have no further to go. That is what is the trouble with all of you. You have climbed the heights intellectually; naturally your beings are empty, arrogant. Whereas, if you begin near, then you will know how to climb, how to move infinitely. You know, all these are means and ways of real exploitation. It is the way of the priests - to complicate matters, when things are infinitely simple. I won't go into what I have to say, I have explained that over and over again; but to make it complicated, to coat it with all kinds of traditions or prejudices and not recognize your prejudices, that is where the hideousness lies. Question: If a person finds the Theosophical Society a channel through which he can express himself and be of service, why should he leave the Society? Krishnamurti: First of all, let us find out if it is so. Don't say why he should or should not leave; let us go into the matter. What do you mean by a channel through which he can express himself? Don't you express yourself through business, through marriage? Do you or don't you express yourself when you are working every day for your livelihood, when you are bringing up children? And as it shows that you do not express yourself there, you want a Society in which to express yourself. Is that not it? Please, I hope I am not giving some subtle meaning to all this. So you say, "As I am not expressing myself in the world of action, in the everyday world, where it is impossible to express myself, therefore I use the Society to express myself." Is it so, or not? I mean, as far as I understand the question. How do you express yourself? Now as it is, at the expense of others. When you talk about self-expression, it must be at the expense of others. Please, there is true expression, with which we will deal presently, but this idea of self-expression indicates that you have something to give, and therefore the Society must be, created for your use. First of all, have you something to give? A painter, or a musician, or an engineer, or any of these fellows, if he is really creative, does not talk about self-expression; he is expressing it all the time; he is at it in the outside world, at home, or in a club. He does not want a particular society so that he can use that society for his self-expression. So when you say "self-expression", you do not mean that you are using the Society for giving forth to the world a particular knowledge or something which you have. If you have something, you give it. You are not conscious of it. A flower is not conscious of its beauty. Its loveliness is ever present. "Be of service to the world." Are you of service to the world, really? Please, you know, I wish you could really think, honestly, frankly; then if you really think honestly, frankly, you will be of service to the world - not in this extraordinary way. Let us find out if we are of service to the world. What is the world in need of at the present time - or at any time, in the past or in the future? People who have the capacity to be completely human; that is, people who are not bound up by their narrow circles of thoughts and prejudices and the limitations of their self-conscious emotionalism. Surely, if you really want to help the world, you cannot belong to any particular sect or society, any more than you can belong to any particular religion. If you say all religions are one, then why have any religion? Religions and nationalities really encage people, trammel them. This is shown throughout the world, throughout history; and the world has come now to more and more sects, more and more bodies enclosed by walls of beliefs, with their special guides; and yet you talk of brotherhood! How can there be real brotherhood when this possessive instinct is so deep, and so must lead to wars because it is based on nationalism, patriotism. Surely your talk of brotherhood shows that you are not really brotherly. A man that is really brotherly, affectionate, does not talk about brotherhood; you do not talk about brotherhood to your sister, or to your wife, there is a natural affection. And how can there be brotherhood, real unity of humanity, when there is exploitation? So to really help the world - as you do talk about helping the world - if you would really help it to be free of all its commitments, its vested interests, its environments, then you will see that you are never talking about helping the world; then you do not put yourself on a pedestal to help somebody at a distance, lower down. Question: Do you approve of our invoking the aid of the angels of the angelic kingdom, such as the Angel Raphael in sickness, the Angel of Fire in the ceremony of cremation? Are they props and crutches? (Laughter) Krishnamurti: Please, some of you laugh at it, but you have your own particular prejudices, superstitions. You may not have this "angelic" superstition. You have some others, Now, let us not look at it from the point of view of invoking aid. First of all, if you are normal, then there is a normal miracle taking place in the world; but we are so abnormal that we want abnormal actions to take place. I have answered the question so often. All right. First of all, suppose you are suffering, and you are cured, it may be by a doctor, it may be by an angel; if you do not know the cause of suffering, you will again become ill. Personally, I have dabbled a little in healing, but I want to do something else in life, to really heal the mind and heart; that is, to let you discover for yourself the cause of suffering; and I assure you, no calling on angels, continual attendance on the doctor, is ever going to show you the cause of suffering. You may be healed symptomatically for the moment, but unless you really find out for yourselves - nobody else can find out for you - what is the cause of suffering, you will again be ill. In discovering the cause you will become healthy. Question: Have you sympathy for those who admire your beauty, but ignore your wisdom? Krishnamurti: It is the same thing as the other question. Let us listen to you intuitively, and ignore your words. Only this is put differently. You know, wisdom is not to be bought. You cannot buy it from books. You cannot get it by listening. You may listen to me for hundreds of years, but you are not going to be wise. What brings wisdom is action. Action is wisdom; it cannot be separated. And because we have divided action from our thought, from our emotions, from our intellectual capacity of reasoning, we are carried away by superficial things, and thereby are exploited. Question: Do you consider that the Theosophical Society has finished its work in the world, and ought to retire into solitary confinement? Krishnamurti: What do you think, you who are its members? Is that not a much more apt question, than yours to me? Sirs, may I put it this way? Why do you belong to any Society? Why are you Christians, Theosophists, Christian Scientists, and God knows what? Why do you exclude and seclude yourselves? "Because", you say, "this particular form of belief, this particular form of expression, of ideas, appeals to me; therefore I am going to subscribe myself to it." Or you belong to it because you hope to get something out of it: happiness, wisdom, office, position. So instead of asking me if the Society should retire, ask yourselves why you belong to it. Why do you belong to anything? There is this horrible idea that we want to be exclusive - the Western Club, the Eastern Golf Course, and all the rest of it. Exclusive hotels - you know. So likewise, we say we have something special, so do the Hindus, so do Roman Catholics. Every person in the world talks about having something special, so they exclude themselves, and become the owners of that special thing, and so thereby create more divisions, more conflicts, more heartaches. Besides, who am I to tell you if the Society should retire into confinement? I wonder how many of you have really asked why you belong to it. If you are really a social body, not a religious body, not an ethical body, then there is some hope for it in the world. If you are really a body of people who are discovering, not who have found, if you are a body of people who are giving information, not giving spiritual distinctions, if you are a body of people that have a really open platform, not for me or for someone special, if you are a body of people among whom there are neither leaders nor followers, then there is some hope. But I am afraid you are followers, and therefore you all have leaders. And such a society, whether it is this or another, is useless. You are merely followers or merely leaders. In true spirituality there is no distinction of the teacher and the pupil, of the man who has knowledge and the man who has not. It is you that are creating it, because it is this that you are seeking -continually to be distinctive. You cannot all of you be Sir Richard Something-or-other, so you want to be somebody in this Society, or in another society, or in heaven. Don't you see, if you really thought about these things and were honest, you could be an extraordinarily useful body in the world. You could then really work for the intrinsic merit of its ideas - not for some phantasy and emotionalism of your leaders. Then you would examine any idea, and find out its true significance and work it out, and not depend on the honours conferred for your services, on the enticement to work. That way leads to narrowness, bigotry, to more divisions and cruelties, and ultimately to utter chaos of thought. Question: What is your attitude to the early teachings of Theosophy, the Blavatsky type? Do you consider we have deteriorated or advanced? Krishnamurti: I am afraid I do not know, because I do not know what Madame Blavatsky's teachings are. Why should I? Why should you know of someone else's teachings? You know, there is only one truth, and therefore there is only one way, which is not distant from that truth; there is only one method to that truth, because the means are not distinct from the end. Now you who have studied Madame Blavatsky's and the latest Theosophy, or whatever it is, why do you want to be students of books instead of students of life? Why do you set up leaders and ask whose teachings are better? Don't you see? Please, I am not being harsh, or anything of that kind. Don't you see? You are Christians; find out what is true and false in Christianity - and you will then find out what is true. Find out what is true and false in your environment with all its oppressions and cruelties, and then you will find out what is true. Why do you want philosophies? Because life is an ugly thing, and you hope to run away from it through philosophy. Life is so empty, dull, stupid, ignominious, and you want something to bring romanticism into your world, some hope, some lingering, haunting feeling; whereas, if you really faced the world as it is, and tackled it, you would find it something much more, infinitely greater than any philosophy, greater than any book in the world, greater than any teaching or greater than any teacher. We have really lost all sense of feeling, feeling for the oppressed, and feeling for the oppressor. You only feel when you are oppressed. So gradually we have intellectually explained away all our feelings, our sensitiveness, our delicate perceptions, till we are absolutely shallow; and to fill that shallowness, to enrich ourselves, we study books. I read all kinds of books, but never philosophies, thank goodness. You know, I have a kind of shrinking feeling - please, I put it mildly - when you say, "I am a student of philosophy", a student of this, or that; never of everyday action, never really understanding things as they are. I assure you, for your happiness, for your own understanding, for the discovery of that eternal thing, you must really live; then you will find something which no word, no picture, no philosophy, no teacher can give. Question: Are the teachings which Theosophy gives concerning evolution of any consequence for the purpose of the growth of the soul? Krishnamurti: What do you mean by evolution, sirs? As far as I can make out, growing from the unessential to the essential. Is it? Growing from ignorance to wisdom. Is that not so? Nobody shakes his head. All right. What do you mean by evolution? Gaining more and more experience, more and more wisdom, more and more knowledge, more and more and more and more; infinitely more and more. That is, you go from the unessential to the essential; and that essential becomes the unessential the moment you have attained, you have reached it. Is that not so? Are you too tired? Is it too late? Please, you have to think with me. This is my second talk during the day; but if you do not think with me, it will be rather difficult for me. I have to push against a wall. You consider something as essential today, and go after it, and get it; and tomorrow that thing becomes unessential, and you say, "I have learnt that." That which you had thought essential has become the unessential, so you go on and on and on, and you call that growth, evolution; getting more and more, discerning more and more between the essential and the unessential - and yet there is no such thing as the essential and the unessential. Is there? Because that which you think is the essential today becomes the unessential tomorrow, for you want something else. Let me put it differently. You see some pleasurable object you think you want to possess, and you possess it: then satisfied, you move to another thing. It may be some emotional craving, desire, and you get that. You want an idea, and you pursue that, and get it. And ultimately you want to reach God, truth, happiness; and the man who wants happiness, God, truth, you consider spiritual, and the man who wants a hat or a tie, or whatever it is, you call mundane, materialistic. The unessential is the hat, and the essential is the God or truth. What have we done? We have merely changed the object of our desires. We have said, "Well, I have had enough hats, enough cars, enough houses, and I want something else", and you go after that and get that, and then you finish with it and want something else; so you proceed gradually till you ultimately want something which you call God, and then you think you have reached the ultimate. All you have done is played with your desires, and this process of continual choosing you call evolution. Is it so or not? Comment from audience: At one time one individual is satisfied with one thing and another individual with another. Krishnamurti: But surely the desire is the same thing. Desire is the same whether it is the desire for a hat or for God. There is the desire behind it; wanting, until we have gone through the range of our desire; whereas, if we really understood the significance of each object which desire is running after, that it is neither essential nor unessential, we would then understand the true significance of that object; and evolution then has a different meaning - not this perpetual attainment, gaining, all the time succeeding. Comment: Will we stop desire? Krishnamurti: Surely not. If you stop desire, then - goodbye! It is death. How can you stop desire? It is not a thing you turn off and on. Why do you want to stop desire? Because it gives you pain. If it gives you pleasure you continue, you don't ask me; but the moment it gives you pain you say, "I had better stop it." Why do you have pain? Because there is no understanding. If you understand a thing, then there is no pain. Comment: Can you give an illustration of that point? That pain stops when you understand it. Krishnamurti: Cannot you think it out? Perhaps I will give it later. Let me put it all differently. We are used to this idea of killing out desire, disciplining desire, controlling it, subjugating it. To me, this way of thinking is unhealthy, unnatural. You desire a hat or a coat or something - I do not know what - and you multiply desires because the object which the desire is pursuing does not give you satisfaction. Is that not so? So you pursue it, but you change to another object. Now, why is your desire pursuing one thing after another? Because you do not understand the very object which the desire is pursuing; you do not see the full significance of the desire for an object. You are more concerned with the gain and with the loss, rather than with the significance of this pursuit. Am I explaining? Please, one must think about it. Question: Does what you wrote in "At the Feet of the Master" still hold good? Krishnamurti: All right, sirs. What does the question imply? What are the implications in that question? Do I still believe in the Masters, eh? Isn't that so? And naturally, if I believe in them, I must still believe in the teachings, and so on. Let us find out. Let us look at it quite openly, not as if I were attacking your Masters, whom you have to protect. Now, why do you want a Master? You say we need him for a guide - the same thing which the spiritualists say - the same thing the Roman Catholics say - the same thing everybody says in the world. This applies to everyone, not to you particularly. To guide you to what? That is the next question, obviously, isn't it? You say, "I must have a guide to happiness, to truth, to liberation, to nirvana, to heaven" - you must have somebody to lead you to that. (Please, I am not a clever lawyer trying to browbeat you; I am trying to help you to find out for yourselves. I am not trying to convert you to anything.) Now, if you are interested in the discovery of truth, then guides are of no importance, are they? It does not matter - you would pick anybody. How do you know he is going to help you to truth? It may be that the man who sweeps the road will help you -your sister, neighbour, brother, anybody; so why do you pay particular attention to your guides? Oh, don't shake your heads. I know all about it. You say, "Oh yes, quite right, it is so; and yet you are all seeking probationary discipleship, distinctions, initiations. So to you what matters is, not truth, but who is the guide who will lead you. Isn't that it? No? Then please tell me what. Comment: You said in "At the Feet of the Master" we had to be desireless, and now you say we have... Krishnamurti: Wait a minute sir. Yes, it is a contradiction. I hope there will be lots of contradictions. There is a lady who said "No." She shook her head. I would like to find out. Comment: I forget exactly what your question was with regard to the Master. I feel it is not the way I personally look to the Master. I feel that just as I look to you to help me to understand and discover, so the Master will help us to understand and discover. Krishnamurti: That is, to most of you the Master is the guide. You cannot deny that, can you? You cannot say, "No, I do not care who will lead us to it." Comment: I don't think the important thing is the guide; not the special guide. Krishnamurti: You don't have special guides? Comment: That is why we come to hear you. Krishnamurti: Please, try to find out what I am talking about. Do not say, "We don't want Masters, guides", and all that; let us find out. So don't say, "This does not apply to me." If you really think about the thing I am talking about, it will apply to you, because we are all in the same circle. So, if you want to find out what truth is, as I said this morning, if you ask a guide, then you must know, and he must know, both of you must know what truth is. But if you know what truth is, and you have a dim perception of it, then you will ask nobody. Then you are not concerned whether you are a probationary pupil, or an initiate with special honours, and all the rest of it. You want truth, not distinctions. What do you say to that? Comment: I would say that it is with many not the desire for distinction, but the desire for understanding. Krishnamurti: You are not trying to protect. I am not trying to knock down. Please, let us discuss together with that attitude. How can you have understanding when you are a pupil, a distinguished person, a distinctive entity with more special privileges than someone else? Comment: I do not feel that I have any special privileges; only what I make myself. I do not feel that anyone confers privileges upon me. Krishnamurti: I am sorry I am not explaining fully. All right. What is it but distinction, self-aggrandizement, when you are somebody's special pupil? You will say, "No. That will help me to truth. That step is necessary towards truth." Is that not so? So that step is merely the accentuation and exaggeration of self-consciousness. To understand, there must be less and less of the "I" consciousness, not more and more. Is that not so? To understand anything there must be no prejudice; there must be no consciousness of "my path" and "your path", "my" this and "your" that. Anything that accentuates the "my" idea must be a hindrance. Must it not? Comment: We are taught there are Masters. Krishnamurti: Well, I cannot enter into that. If you say, "It is authority; we are told", then there is nothing more to be said; but does that satisfy you all? Comment: No. Krishnamurti: For the moment, forget everything you have learned here about the Masters, disciples, initiation. If you were really frank, you would see it. It is merely that everyone wants to be something, and this process of wanting to be somebody is used and exploited. What is this consciousness which we call the "I"? When are you conscious of it? (Please, I must be brief, because I must stop.) What is this consciousness? When are you conscious of yourself? When there is this conflict, when there is a hindrance, a frustration. Remove all frustration, remove all hindrances, then you do not say "I". Then you are living. It is only when you are conscious of pain that you are conscious of the body. So when there is pain, emotionally or intellectually, then you are conscious as something separate. Now we have accentuated it, brought about a condition in the mind that we call the "I", and we take that as a fact and desire to proceed with the expansion of that consciousness into truth -enlarge that consciousness more and more, through probation and initiations and all the rest of it, which indicates you have a false cause. That is, the "I" is not reality. You have a false cause, and you have the false answers, as initiations, as expansion of consciousness of the "I; and hence you say somebody is necessary to help you to realize truth, to expand your consciousness; or you say, "The world needs a plan, and there are wiser people than I; therefore I must become their instrument to help the world." Therefore you establish a mediator between them and yourself -somebody who knows and somebody who does not know. And therefore, you merely become an instrument of exploitation. I know you all smile and disagree with me; but please, it does not matter. I am not here to convince you, or you to convince me. If you look at it with reason you will see. So you establish a plan known to the few, and you merely become an instrument of action, to carry out orders. Take, for instance, if the Masters said, "War is right." I am not saying that they have said it. You know in the last war how everybody said, "God is on our side", and we all jumped at it. Now, if you, as an individual, begin to really think, you will see war is a pernicious thing, And if you really thought of it, you could not join a war. But you say, "I do not know. The plan says there must be a war and good will come out of evil, so let me join." In other words, you really cease to think. You are merely instruments to be driven, cannon fodder. Surely that is not spiritual, all those things. So please, with regard to whether I believe in Masters or not, to me it is of very little importance. Whether you believe in a Master or not has nothing to do with spirituality. What is the difference between a medium that gets messages, and you that get messages from the Masters? Comment: Are we to believe in nothing? Krishnamurti: Please, just a minute. Please, you see I have been talking about this. Why do you want belief? (Laughter) Please do not laugh, because everybody is in that position. We all want beliefs as props, as something to sustain us. Surely, the more and more you have beliefs, the less and less you have of strength, of inward richness. I am so sorry I cannot go into all this. It is half-past eight, but I would like to say this. Wisdom, or understanding, is not to be got at by holding on to things; holding on to your beliefs or ideas. Wisdom is born when you are really moving, not anchored to any particular form of belief; and then you will discover that it does not matter whether the Masters exist or do not exist, whether your Society is essential to the world or not. These things are of very little importance. Then you are bringing about a new civilization, a new culture in the world. You know, it is most extraordinary! Dr. Besant said to all the members, and I used to hear this very often, "We are preparing for a World Teacher. Keep an open mind. He may contradict everything you think, and say it differently." And you have been preparing, some of you, for twenty years or more; and it does not matter whether I am the Teacher or not. No one can tell you, naturally, because no one else can know except myself; and even then I say it does not matter. I have never contradicted it. I say, "Leave it. That is not the point." You have been preparing for twenty years or more, and very few of you have really an open mind. Very few have said, "Let us find out what you are talking about. Let us go into it. Let us discover if what you say is true or false, irrespective of your label." And after twenty years you are in exactly the same position as you were before. You have innumerable beliefs, you have certainties, and your knowledge, and you are not really willing to examine what I am saying. And it seems such a waste of time, such a pity that these twenty years and more should go wasted, and you find yourselves exactly where you were, only with new sets of beliefs, new sets of dogmas, new sets of conditions. I assure you, you cannot find truth, or liberation, or nirvana, or heaven, or whatever you like to call it, by this process of attachment. That does not mean that you all must become detached, which only means you become withered, but try to find out frankly, honestly, simply, whether what you are holding with such grim possessiveness has any significance, whether it has any value; and to find out if it has any value there cannot be the desire to cling to it. And then when you really look at it in that way, you will find something which is indescribable. Then you will discover something real, lasting, eternal. Then there will be no necessity for a teacher and a pupil. It will be a happy world when there are no pupils and no teachers. AUCKLAND, NEW ZEALAND 2ND TALK IN TOWN HALL 1ST APRIL, 1934 Friends, Probably most of you have come because you are in search of something. At least most of you are here because you hope to find something by attending this meeting, because you are in search of something which you do not know, but hope to discover. You are here because there is a desire to find happiness, because everyone, in some way or another, is suffering; there is a continual gnawing going on in our minds and hearts, we are unsatisfied, incomplete, questioning. Continual explanations are being given for our innumerable sufferings, and so you come here to find out if you can get something in return for your search. By attending this talk, you hope to find an answer to your problems, the cause of your suffering. Now, generally, what happens when you suffer? You want a remedy. When there is a problem, you want a solution. When there is an ache, you want a remedy. So we go from one remedy to another. We suffer and we want to find out what is the remedy for that suffering, so we go from one lesson, from one experience, to another, from one remedy to another or from one explanation to another, from one system to another or from one belief to another, changing your sects continually - that is, going from one cage to another cage, battering vainly against these bars to find out why there is suffering; and all the time mind and heart are merely seeking a remedy, an explanation. So, you will never find the explanation, because, what happens when you are suffering? Your immediate demand is that suffering should be relieved, that pain should be alleviated, so you accept a remedy which is given, without properly examining it, without properly finding out its true significance. You accept that because, psychologically, you have set up a hope and that hope blinds, and therefore there is no clear understanding of that remedy. If you think over it, you will see that it is a fact. You go to a doctor; he gives you a remedy. You never ask him what it is. All you are concerned with is that the pain should go away. Now you are here at this meeting with that same attitude of mind, if you are seeking. If you are here out of curiosity, well, I have nothing much to say, I am afraid. But if you are here to find out, if you are seeking a remedy, then you will be disappointed, because I do not want to give a remedy, an explanation; but in considering things together, reasoning together, we shall find out what is the cause of suffering. So, to discover what is the cause of suffering, do not seek a remedy; but rather try to find out what is the cause of the suffering. One can deal superficially, symptomatically; but that way you will not find out the real, basic, fundamental cause; and you can only find out the cause of suffering if you are not creating a barrier by the immediate longing that you shall be freed from that pain. For instance, if you lose somebody whom you love greatly, there is intense suffering. Then a remedy is offered - that he lives on the other side, the idea of reincarnation, and so on. You accept that remedy for your suffering, but that sorrow still remains. That loneliness, that emptiness is still there, only you have covered it over with an explanation, a remedy, a superficial drug. Whereas, if you were really trying to discover what is the cause of that suffering, then you would examine, you would try to find out the full significance of the remedy which is being offered, whether it be the idea that he lives on the other side, or the belief in reincarnation. In that state of mind, when there is suffering, there is acuteness of thought, there is an intense questioning; and this intense questioning is really what causes suffering. Isn't it? If you have lived together with your wife, your brother, or anyone, and that brother, or wife, or friend has died, then you are face to face with your own loneliness, which creates in your mind the questioning attitude - the full consciousness of that loneliness. That moment of acute awareness, of full consciousness, is the moment to find out what is the cause of suffering. Now, to me, to discover the cause of suffering, there must be that acute state of mind and heart which is seeking, which is trying to discover. In that state, you will see that the mind and heart have become the slave of environment. Mind, with the vast majority of people, is nothing but environment. Mind and heart are environment, depending on their condition; and as long as the mind is a slave to environment, there must be suffering, there must be continual conflict of the individual against society; and the individual will be free of environment only when he, by questioning the environment, conquers the limitation placed on him by environment. That is, it is only when you understand the true significance of each environment, the true worth of the environment which has been placed about you by society, by religions, that you pierce through the limitation imposed, and thereby there is born true intelligence. After all, one is unhappy because there is no intelligence, which is understanding. When you understand a thing you are no longer in conflict, you are no longer bound by that which has been imposed on you by authority, by tradition, by deep-rooted prejudices. So intelligence is necessary to be supremely happy and to awaken that intelligence, mind must be free of environment. The innumerable encrustations created by religions and society, throughout the ages, have become our environment. You can be free of environment, which individuals have created, only when you understand its standards, its values, its prejudices, its authorities. And you then begin to find out what is the fundamental cause of suffering, which is the lack of true intelligence, and that intelligence is not to be discovered by some miraculous process, but by being continually aware, therefore continually questioning, trying to discover the false and the true in the environment placed about us. I have been given some questions, and I am going to try to answer them this evening. Question: Do you believe in God? Are you an atheist? Krishnamurti: I presume you all believe in God. It must be so, because you are all Christians, at least you profess to be, so you must believe in God. Now why do you believe in God? Please, I am going to answer presently, so do not call me an atheist, or a theist. Why do you believe in God? What is a belief? You do not believe in something which is obvious, like the sunshine, like the person sitting next to you; you do not have to believe. Whereas, your belief in God is not real. It is some hope, some idea, some preconceived longing which may have nothing to do with reality. If you do not believe, but really become aware of that reality in your life, as you are aware of sunshine, then your whole con- duct of life will be different. At present, your belief has nothing whatever to do with your daily life; so, to me, whether you believe in God or not is immaterial. (Applause) Please do not bother to clap. There are many questions to answer. So your belief in God, or your disbelief in God, to me are both the same, because they have no reality. If you were really aware of truth, as you are aware of that flower, if you were really conscious of that truth as you are conscious of fresh air and the lack of that fresh air, then your whole life, your whole conduct, your whole behaviour, your very affections, your very thoughts, would be different. Whether you call yourselves believers or disbelievers, by your conduct you are not showing it; so whether you believe in God or not is of very little importance. It is merely a superficial idea imposed by conditions and environment, through fear, through authority, through imitation. Therefore, when you say, "Do you believe? Are you an atheist?" I cannot answer you categorically; because, to you, belief is much more important than reality. I say there is something immense, immeasurable, unfathomable; there is some supreme intelligence, but you cannot describe it. How can you describe the taste of salt if you have never tasted it? And it is the people that have never tasted salt, that are never aware of this immensity in their lives, who begin to question whether I believe or whether I do not believe, because belief to them is much more important than that reality which they can discover if they live rightly, if they live truly; and as they do not want to live truly, they think belief in God is something essential to be truly human. So, to be a theist or an atheist, to me, are both absurd. If you knew what truth is, what God is, you would neither be a theist nor an atheist, because in that awareness belief is unnecessary. It is the man who is not aware, who only hopes and supposes, that looks to belief or to disbelief, to support him, and to lead him to act in a particular way. Now, if you approach it quite differently, you will find out for yourselves, as individuals, something real which is beyond all the limitations of beliefs, beyond the illusion of words. But that - the discovery of truth, or God - demands great intelligence, which is not assertion of belief or disbelief, but the recognition of the hindrances created by lack of intelligence. So to discover God or truth - and I say such a thing does exist, I have realized it - to recognize that, to realize that, mind must be free of all the hindrances which have been created throughout the ages, based on self-protection and security. You cannot be free of security by merely saying that you are free. To penetrate the walls of these hindrances, you need to have a great deal of intelligence, not mere intellect. Intelligence, to me, is mind and heart in full harmony; and then you will find out for yourself, without asking anyone, what that reality is. Now, what is happening in the world? You have a Christian God, Hindu Gods, Muhammadans with their particular conception of God - each little sect with their particular truth; and all these truths are becoming like so many diseases in the world, separating people. These truths, in the hands of the few, are becoming the means of exploitation. You go to each, one after the other, tasting them all, because you begin to lose all sense of discrimination, because you are suffering and you want a remedy, and you accept any remedy that is offered by any sect, whether Christian, Hindu, or any other sect. So, what is happening? Your Gods are dividing you, your beliefs in God are dividing you and yet you talk about the brotherhood of man, unity in God, and at the same time deny the very thing that you want to find out, because you cling to these beliefs as the most potent means of destroying limitation, whereas they but intensify it. These things are so obvious. If you are a Protestant, you have a horror of the Roman Catholic; and if Roman Catholic, you have a horror of everybody else. That goes on everywhere, not only here. In India, among the Muhammadans, among all religious sects this goes on; because to all, belief - that cruel thing - is more vital, more important, than the discovery of truth, which is real humanity. Therefore, the people who believe so much in God are really not in love with life. They are in love with a belief, but not with life, and therefore their hearts and minds wither and become as nothing, empty, shallow. Question: Do you believe in reincarnation? Krishnamurti: First of all, I do not know how many of you are conversant with the idea of reincarnation, I will very briefly explain to you what it means. It means that in order to reach perfection, you must go through a series of lives, gathering more and more experience, more and more knowledge, till you come to that reality, to that perfection. Briefly and crudely, without going into the subtleties of it, that is reincarnation: that you as the "I", the entity, the ego, take on a series of forms, life after life, till you are perfect. Now I am not going to answer whether I believe it or not, as I want to show that reincarnation is immaterial. Do not reject what I say immediately. What is the ego? What is this consciousness which we call the "I"? I will tell you what it is, and please consider it; do not reject it. You are here to understand what I am saying, not to create a barrier between yourself and me by your belief. What is the "I", that focal point which you call the "I", that consciousness of which the mind is continually becoming aware? That is, when are you conscious of the "I"? When are you conscious of yourself? Only when you are frustrated, when you are hindered, when there is a resistance; otherwise, you are supremely unconscious of your little self as "I". Is that not so? You are only conscious of yourself when there is a conflict. So, as we live in nothing else but conflict, we are conscious of that most of the time; and, therefore there is that consciousness, that conception, which is born of the "I". The "I" in that conflict is nothing else but the consciousness of yourself as a form with a name, with certain prejudices, with certain idiosyncrasies, tendencies, faculties, longings, frustrations; and this, you think, must continue and grow and reach perfection. How can conflict reach perfection? How can that limited consciousness reach perfection? It can expand, it can grow, but it will not be perfection, however large, all-inclusive, because its foundations are conflict, misunderstandings, hindrances. So you say to yourself, "I must live as an entity beyond death, therefore I must come back to this life till I reach perfection." Now then, you will say, "If you remove this conception of the `I', what is the focal point in life?" I hope you are following this. You say, "Remove, free the mind from this consciousness of myself as an `I', then what remains?" What remains when you are supremely happy, creative? There remains that happiness. When you are really happy, or when you are greatly in love, there is no "you". There is that tremendous feeling of love, or that ecstasy. I say that is the real. Everything else is false. So let us discover what creates these conflicts, what creates these hindrances, this continual friction, let us find out whether it is artificial or real. If it is real, if this friction is intended to be the very process of life, then the consciousness of the "I" must be real. Now, I say this friction is a false thing, that it cannot exist in a humanity where there is well-organized planning for the needs of human beings, where there is true affection. So let us find out if the "I" is the false creation of a false environment, a false society, or if the "I" is something permanent, eternal. To me, this limited consciousness is not eternal. It is the result of false environment and beliefs. If you were doing what you really wanted to do in life, not being forced to do some particular job which you loathe, if you were following your true vocation, fulfilling yourself in your true vocation, then work would no longer be friction. A painter, a poet, a writer, an engineer, who really loves his work, to him life is not a burden. But your work is not your vocation. Environment and social conditions are forcing you to do a certain piece of work whether you like it or not, so you have already created a friction. Then certain moral standards, certain authorities have established various ideals as true, as false, as being virtuous, and so on, and you accept these. You have taken on this cloak without understanding, without discovering its right value, and therefore you have created friction. So gradually your whole mind is warped and perverted and in conflict till you have become conscious of that "I" and nothing else. Therefore, you start with a wrong cause, produced by a wrong environment, and you have a wrong answer. So whether reincarnation exists or does not exist is, to me, immaterial. What matters is to fulfil, which is perfection. You cannot fulfil in a future. Fulfillment is not of time. Fulfillment is in the present. So what is happening? Through friction, through continual conflict, memory is being created, memory as the "I" and the "mine", which becomes possessive. That memory has many layers, and constitutes that consciousness which we call the "I". And I say that this "I" is the false result of a false environment, and hence its problems, its solutions, must be entirely false, illusory. Whereas, if you, as individuals, begin to awaken to the limitations of environment imposed on you by society, by religions, by economic conditions, and begin to question, and thereby create conflict, then you will dissipate that little consciousness which you call the "I; then you will know what is that fulfillment, that creative living in the present. To put it differently, many scientists say that individuality, this limited consciousness, exists after death. They have discovered ectoplasm, and all the rest of it, and they say that life exists after death. You will have to follow this a little bit carefully, as I hope you have followed the other part; if not, you won't understand it. Individuality, this consciousness, this limited self-consciousness, is a fact in life. It is a fact in your life, isn't it? It is a fact, but it has no reality. You are constantly self-conscious, and that is a fact, but as I showed you, it has no reality. It is merely the habit of centuries of false environment which has made a fact of something which is not real. And though that fact may exist, and does exist, so long as that continues there cannot be fulfillment. And I say the fulfillment of perfection is not in the accumulation of virtues, not in postponement, but in complete harmony of living in the present. Sirs, suppose you are hungry now and I promise food to you next week, of what value is it? Or if you have lost someone whom you love greatly, even though you may be told or even though you may know for yourself as a fact that he lives on the other side, what of it? What matters is and what in reality takes place is that there is that emptiness, that loneliness in your heart and mind, that immense void; and you think you can get away from that, run away from it, by this knowledge that your brother, or your wife, or your husband, still lives. There is still in that consciousness death; there is still in that consciousness a limitation; there is still in that consciousness an emptiness, a continual gnawing of sorrow. Whereas, if you free the mind from that consciousness of the "I" by discovering the right values of environment, which no one can tell you, then you will know for yourselves that fulfillment which is truth, which is God, or any name you like to give it. But through the developing of that limited self-consciousness, which is the false result of a false cause, you will not find out what truth is, or what God is, what happiness is, what perfection is; for in that self-consciousness there must be continual conflict, continual striving, continual misery. Question: Are you the Messiah? Krishnamurti: Does it matter greatly? You know, this is one of the questions I have been asked everywhere I go: by newspaper reporters for a story; by the audience because they want to know, as they think that authority shall convince them. Now, I have never denied or asserted that I am the Messiah, that I am the Christ returned; that does not matter. No one can tell you. Even if I did tell you it would be utterly valueless, and so I am not going to tell you, because, to me, it is so irrelevant, so unimportant, futile. After all, when you see a marvellous piece of sculpture, or a marvellous painting, there is a rejoicing; but I am afraid most of you are interested in who has done the picture, most of you are interested in who the sculptor is. You are not really interested in the purity of action, whether in a picture or a statue, or in thought; you are interested to know who is speaking. So it indicates that you have not the capacity to find out the intrinsic merit of an idea, but are rather concerned with who speaks. And I am afraid a snobbery is being cultivated more and more, a spiritual snobbery, just as there is a mundane snobbery, but all snobbery is the same. So, friends, don't bother, but try to find out if what I am saying is true; and in trying to find out if what I am saying is true, you will be rid of all authority, a pernicious thing. For really creative, intelligent human beings, there cannot be authority. To discover if what I am saying is true, you cannot approach it by mere opposition, or by saying, "We have been told so", "It has been said", "Certain books have said this and that", "Our spirit-guides have said." You know that is the latest thing, "Our spirit-guides have said this." I do not know why you give more importance to those spirits who are dead than to the living. You know the living can always contradict you, therefore you do not pay much attention to them, whereas, the spirits, you know, they can always deceive. We have trained our minds, not to appreciate a thing for itself, but rather for who has created it, who has painted, who has spoken. So our minds and hearts become more and more shallow, empty, and in that there is neither affection nor real, reasonable thought, but merely masses of prejudices. Question: What is spirituality? Krishnamurti: I say it is harmonious living. Now wait a minute. I will explain to you what I mean. You cannot live harmoniously if you are a nationalist. How can you? If you are race-conscious, or class-conscious, how can you live intelligently, supremely, free from that consciousness of class? or how can you live harmoniously when you are possessive, when there is that idea of mine and yours? or how can you live intelligently, and therefore harmoniously, if you are bound by beliefs? After all, belief is merely an escape from the present conflict. A man that is in immense conflict with life, wanting to understand, has no belief, he is in the process of experimentation; he does not positively believe and then continue with the experiment. A scientist does not start with a belief in his experiments, he starts experimenting. And a man who is bound by authority, social or religious, surely he cannot live harmoniously, therefore spiritually, intelligently. Authority, then, is merely the process of imitation, falseness. A man who is full of thought is free of authority, because authority merely makes him into an imitative machine, into a cog - whether in a social or religious machine. Therefore such a man can live harmoniously, and in that harmony his mind and heart are normal, sane, full, complete, not burdened with fear. Question: Is the study of music, or art generally, of value to one who is desirous to attain the realization of which you speak? Krishnamurti: Do you mean to say you go and listen to music as though you were going to get something in return? Surely music is not merchandise, to be sold. You go there to enjoy yourself, not to get something in return. It is not a shop. Surely our whole idea of the realization of truth or of living ecstatically is not continual accumulation of things, accumulation of ideas, accumulation of sensations. You go and see a beautiful piece of painting, architecture - any of these things - because you enjoy them, not because you are going to get something in return. That is the real materialistic attitude, the attitude of exchange, trading. That is your approach to reality, that is your approach to God. You go to God with prayers, flowers, confessions, sacrifices, because in return you are going to get something. So your sacrifices, prayers, implorations, beggings, have no value, because you are looking for something in return. It is like a man that is kindly because you are going to give him something, and the whole process of civilization is based on that. Love is a merchandise to be bartered. Spirituality, or the realization of truth, is something you seek in return for doing some righteous action. Sir, it is not a righteous action when you seek something else in return for that kindly deed. Question: If priests and churches, and similar organizations, are acting with men in a sense of first aid to relieve the symptoms till the Great Physician arrives to deal with the cause, is that wrong? Krishnamurti: So you make priests and religions as the first stepping stone. Is that it? You are waiting for somebody else to come and reveal to you the cause? You are saying, as far as I can make out, "As there are so many symptoms, as we are suffering superficially, that is, dealing with the symptoms, it is necessary to have the priests and churches." Now do you say that? Do you recognize that? Do you recognize and assert that churches and priests are merely dealing with symptoms? If you really acknowledge that, then you will find out the cause. But you will not do that. You don't say that priests and churches deal superficially, symptomatically. If you really said that and felt that, then you would find out the cause for yourself immediately; whereas you do not say that. You say priests and churches will lead you to discover the cause, so the question is not truly put. To the vast majority of people, practically everybody, churches and priests will help you to go to the reality of truth. You do not say they deal with the symptoms. If you did, you would do away with them immediately, tomorrow. I wish you did! Then you would find out. Then no one need tell you what the cause is, because you are functioning intelligently, because you are beginning to question, not to accept. Then you are becoming real individuals, not machines driven by environment and fear. Then there will be more thoughtfulness, more affection, more humanity in the world, not these awful divisions. Question: Seeing that human society has to be co-operative and collective, what value can the individual be to its success? Leadership suppresses the individual's freedom, and renders his uniqueness valueless. Krishnamurti: "Seeing that human society has to be co-operative and collective, what value can the individual be to its success?" Now let us find out if the individual, by becoming truly individual, will not co-operate. That is, instead of being driven to co-operation as you are now by circumstances - I should not say driven to co-operation, you are not co-operative -instead of being driven by conditions to act for yourselves, which is therefore not true, intelligent co-operation, is it possible to cooperate by becoming real individuals? I say it is possible, by becoming truly individual, that there will be true and natural cooperation, without being driven by circumstances; so let us inquire into it. After all, are you individuals, functioning with your full volition? That, after all, is the true individual, is it not? - the man who functions with full freedom; otherwise you are not individuals, you are mere cogs in a machine that is being driven. So I say it is only when you are truly individuals that there will be real cooperation. Now what is an individual? Not a human being who is driven to action by environment, by circumstances. I say true individuality consists in freeing the mind from the environment of the false, and therefore becoming truly individual, and so there must be co-operation. Please, it is already late, and I cannot go into details, but if you are interested you will think it over, and you will see that in this world, as it is constituted, each individual is fighting his neighbour, searching for his own self-security, protection, preservation. There cannot be co-operation. It is an impossibility. There can only be cooperation which is intelligent, human, creative, not selfish cooperation, when you as individuals, become full individuals. That is, when you see that to have true co-operation in the world, there must be no competitive search for self-security. That means altering the whole structure of our civilization, with its vested interest, with its class possessiveness, with its nationalities, race-consciousness, divisions of people by religions. When you, as individuals, are really free, when you see the significance of these things and their falseness, then you become truly individual, and then you will be able to co-operate intelligently; that is inevitable. What is keeping us apart is our prejudice, our lack of perception of right values, of all these hindrances which we, as individuals, have created; and it is only as individuals that we can break down this system. It means that you cannot have any nationality, the sense of possessiveness, though you may have clothes, houses. That sense of possessiveness disappears when you have discovered your real needs, when your whole attitude is not that of possessive class-consciousness. When every individual takes an interest in the welfare of the community, then there can be true co-operation. Now there is no co-operation because you are being merely driven like so many sheep, in one direction or another, by circumstances, and your leaders suppress you because you are but the means of exploitation, and you are exploited because your whole thought, your whole structure, is self-preservation at the expense of everybody else. And I say there is true self-preservation, true security, in the worldplan as a whole, when you, as individuals, destroy those things that are keeping people apart, fighting each other in continual wars which are the result of nationalities and sovereign governments. And I assure you, you will not have peace, you will not have happiness, so long as these things exist. They but bring about more and more strife, more and more wars, more and more calamities, pains and sufferings.. They have been created by individuals, and as individuals you have to begin to break them down and free yourselves from them, and then only will you realize that ecstasy of life. AUCKLAND, NEW ZEALAND 3RD VASANTA SCHOOL GARDENS TALK 2ND APRIL, 1934 Friends, This morning I will first try to answer some of the questions, and then I will try to make a resume of what I have been saying, at the close of my answers. Question: In order to discover lasting values, is meditation necessary, and, if so, what is the correct method of meditation? Krishnamurti: I wonder what people generally mean by meditation. As far as I can make out, the so-called meditation which is but concentration, is not meditation at all. We are used to this idea that by concentrating, by making tremendous effort to control the mind and fix it on a certain idea or concept, certain picture or image, by focussing the mind on a particular point, we are meditating. Now, what is happening when you are trying to do that? You are trying to concentrate your mind on a particular idea and banish all other ideas, all other concepts; and trying to fix the mind on that idea, to force the mind to limit itself to that, whether it be a great thought, an image, or a concept which you have picked up in a book. What is happening when you are doing that? Other ideas come creeping in and you try to banish them away, and so this continual conflict is kept up. Ideas creep in which you do not want, in the attempt to fix your mind on a particular idea. You are but creating conflict; making the mind become smaller, contracting the mind, forcing the mind to fix itself on a particular idea; whereas, to me, the joy of meditation consists, not in forcing the mind, but trying to discover the full significance of each thought as it arises. How can you say which is a better idea and which is a worse idea, which is noble, which is ignoble? You can only say that when the mind has discovered their true values. So, to me, the joy of meditation consists in this process of discovering the right value of each thought. You discover by a natural process the significance of each thought, and therefore free the mind from this continual conflict. Suppose you are trying to concentrate on an idea - you think of what you are going to wear, that idea comes into your mind, or whom you are going to see, or what you are going to have for lunch. Complete each thought, do not try to banish it away; then you will see that mind is no longer a battlefield of competing ideas. So your meditation is not limited to a few hours, or to a few moments during the day, but is a continual alertness of the mind and heart throughout the day; and that, to me, is true meditation. In that there is peace. In that there is a joy. But the so-called meditation you practise for discipline in order to get something in return, is, to me, a pernicious thing, it is really destroying thought. Why are we forced to do that? Why do we force ourselves to think concentratedly for a few moments during the day of things which we think we like? Because we are doing the rest of the day something we do not like, which is not pleasant. Therefore, we say, "To find, to think about something which I like, I must meditate." So you are giving a false answer to a false cause. That is, environment - economic, social, religious - prevents you from doing, fulfilling what you want to do; and as it prevents you, you have to find moments, an hour or two, in which to live. So, disciplining the mind, forcing it to a particular pattern then, is necessary, and hence the whole idea of discipline. Whereas, if you really understood the limitation of environment, and broke through it with action, then this process of disciplining the mind to act in a certain manner would become wholly unnecessary. Please, you have to think it over rather carefully if you would see the significance of all this; because a disciplined mind - not a mind that is merely disciplined to carry out a technique - is a mind that has been trained along a certain particular pattern, and that pattern is the outcome of a false society, false ideas, false concepts. Whereas, if you are able to penetrate, and see what are the things that are false, then the mind is no longer a battle field of contradictory ideas: and in that you will find there is true contemplation. The joy of thought then is awakened. Question: What is the state of awareness which you speak of? Will you deal with it a little more fully. Krishnamurti: Sirs, we are used to continual effort to do anything; to think is to make tremendous effort. We are used to this ceaseless effort. Now, I want to put what, to me, is not an effort but a new way of living. When you know something is a hindrance, something is a poison, when your whole being becomes conscious of something which is poisonous, there is no effort to throw it out: you have already moved away from it. When you know something is dangerous, poisonous, and when you become fully conscious of it in your mind and heart, you have already become free of it. It is only when we do not know that it is poison, or when that poison gives pleasure and at the same time pain, then we play with it. Now, we have created many hindrances, such as nationalism, patriotism, imitative following of authority, bowing down to tradition, the continual search for comfort. All these we have created through fear. But, if we know with our whole being that patriotism is really a false thing, a poisonous thing, then you have not to battle against it. You have not got to get rid of it. The moment you know it is a poisonous thing, it is gone. How are we going to discover it is a poisonous thing? By not identifying yourselves with either patriotism or anti-patriotism. That is, you want to discover if patriotism is a poison; but if you identify yourself with either patriotism or the feeling of antipatriotism, then you cannot discover what is true. Isn't it so? You want to discover if patriotism is a poison. Therefore the first thing is to become aware, become conscious of the fact of non-identification with either. So, when you are not trying to identify yourself with either patriotism, or the feeling against patriotism, then you begin to see the true significance of patriotism. Then you are becoming aware of its true value. After all, what is patriotism? I am trying to help you to become aware of this poison now. It does not mean that you must accept or reject what I am saying. Let us consider it together, and see if it is not a poison; and the moment you see it is poison, you need not battle against it. It has gone. If you see a poisonous snake, you have moved away from it. You are not battling against it. Whereas, if you are uncertain that it is a poisonous snake, then you go and play with it. In the same way, let us try to find out without acceptance or opposition if patriotism is a poison or not. First of all, when are you patriotic? You are not patriotic every day. You do not keep up that patriotic feeling. You are being trained carefully to patriotism at school, through history books saying that your country has beaten some other country, your country is better than some other country. Why has there been this training of the mind to patriotism, which, to me, is an unnatural thing? Not that you do not appreciate the beauty of one country perhaps more than other countries; but that appreciation has nothing to do with patriotism, it is appreciation of beauty. For instance, there are some parts of the world where there is not a single tree, where the sun is blazing hot; but that has its own beauty. Surely a man that likes shade, the dancing of leaves, surely he is not patriotic. Patriotism has been cultivated, trained, as a means of exploitation. It is not an instinctive thing in man. The instinctive thing in man is the appreciation of beauty, not to say "my country." But that has been cultivated by those who desire to seek foreign markets for their goods. That is, if I have the means of production in my hands, and have saturated this country with my products, and then I want to expand, I must go to other countries, I must conquer markets in other countries. Therefore I must have means of conquering. So, I say "our country", and I stimulate this whole thing through press, propaganda, education, history books and so on, this sense of patriotism, so that at a moment of crisis we all jump to fight another country. And upon that feeling of patriotism the exploiters play till you are so bamboozled that you are ready to fight for the country, calling the others barbarians, and all the rest of it. This is an obvious thing, not my invention. You can study it. It is obvious if you look at it with an unprejudiced mind, with a mind that does not want to identify itself with one or the other, but tries to find out. What happens when you find out that patriotism is really a hindrance to complete, full, real life? You do not have to battle against it. It has gone completely. Comment: You would be up against the law of the land. Krishnamurti: The law of the land! Why not? Surely, if you are free of patriotism and the law of the land interferes with you, and takes you to war and you do not feel patriotic, then you may become a conscientious objector, or go to prison, then you have to fight the law. Law is made by human beings, and surely it can be broken by human beings. (Applause) Please don't bother to clap, it is a waste of time. So what is happening? Patriotism, whether it is of the western kind, or of the eastern kind, is the same, a poison in human beings that is really distorting thought. So patriotism is a disease, and when you begin to realize, become aware that it is a disease, then you will see how your mind is reacting to that disease. When, in time of war, the whole world talks of patriotism, you will know the falseness of it, and therefore you will act as a true human being. In the same way, for instance, belief is a hindrance. That is, mind cannot think completely, fully, if it is tethered to a belief. It is like an animal that is tied to a post by a string. It does not matter if that string be long or short; it is tied, so that it cannot wander fully, freely, extensively, completely; it can only wander within the length of that string. Surely such wandering is not thinking: it is only moving within the limited circle of a belief. Now, men's minds are tethered to a belief, and therefore they are incapable of thinking. Most minds have identified themselves with a belief, and therefore their thought is always circumscribed, limited by that belief or ideal; hence the incompleteness of thought. Beliefs separate people. So if you see that, if you really recognize with your whole being that belief is conditioning thought, then what happens? You become aware that your thought is conditioned, aware your thought is caught up, tethered to a belief. In the flame of awareness you will recognize the foolishness, and therefore you are beginning to free the mind from the conditioning, and hence you begin to think completely, fully. Please experiment with this, and you will see that life is not a process of continual battle, battle against standards as opposed to what you want to do. There is then neither what you want to do, nor the standard, but right action, without personal identification. Take another example. You are afraid of what your neighbour might say - a very simple fear. Now, it is no good developing the opposite, which is to say, "I don't care what the neighbour says", and do something in reaction to that opposition. But if you really become aware of why you are afraid of the neighbour, then fear ceases altogether. To discover that "why", the cause of it, you have to be fully aware in that moment of fear, and then you will see what it is: you are afraid of losing a job, you may not marry off your son or your daughter, you want to fit into society, and all the rest of it. So you begin to discover through this process of alertness of mind, this continual awareness; and in that flame the dross of the false standards is burnt away. Then life is not a battle. Then there is nothing to be conquered. You may not accept this. You may not accept what I am saying, but you can experiment. Experiment with these three instances I have given to you, fear, belief, patriotism, and you will see how your mind is tethered, conditioned, and therefore life becomes a conflict. Where the mind is enslaved, conditioned, there must be conflict, there must be suffering. Because, after all, thought is like the waters of a river. It must be in continual movement. Eternity is that movement. If you condition that free flowing movement of thought, of mind and heart, then you must have conflict, and that conflict then must have a remedy, and then the process begins: the searching for remedies, substitutes, and never trying to find out the cause of this conflict. So through the process of full awareness, you liberate the mind and heart from the hindrances which have been set about them through environment; and as long as environment is conditioning the mind, as long as the mind has not discovered the true significance of the environment, there must be conflict, and hence the false answer which is self-discipline. Question: When one has discovered for oneself that every method of escape from the present has resulted in futility, what more is there to be done? Krishnamurti: When you discover that you are escaping from conflict, that your mind is running away through superficial remedies, you want to know what remains. What does remain? Intelligence, understanding. Is that not so? Suppose you have some kind of sorrow, either the sorrow of death, or a momentary sorrow of some kind. You escape, when there is the sorrow of death, through this belief in reincarnation, or that life exists and continues on the other side. I went into that last night, so I will not go into it here. But when you recognize it is an escape, what happens? Then you are looking at the remedy to discover its significance, if it has any value; and in the process of discovering, there is born intelligence, understanding; and that supreme intelligence is life itself. You don't want any more. Or suppose you have some kind of momentary sorrow, and you want to escape from it, run away and try to amuse yourself, try to forget it. In trying to forget, you never understand the cause of that sorrow. So you increase and multiply the means of forgetfulness, it may be a cinema, a church, or anything. So it is not a question of what remains after you have ceased to escape; but in trying to discover the value of the escapes which you have created for yourself, there is true intelligence, and that intelligence is creative happiness, is fulfillment. Question: What is the fundamental cause of fear? Krishnamurti: Is not the fundamental cause self-preservation? Self-preservation, with all its subtleties? For instance, you may have money, and therefore you are not bothering about the competition of getting a job; but you are afraid of something else, afraid that your life may come suddenly to an end and there might be extinction, or afraid of loss of money. So, if you look at it, you will see that fear will exist so long as this idea of self-preservation continues, so long as the mind clings to this idea of self-consciousness, which idea I explained last night. As long as that ego consciousness remains, there must be fear; and that is the fundamental cause of fear. And I tried to explain last night also, how this limited consciousness which we call the "I" is brought about, how it is created through false environment, and the fighting that is brought about by that environment. That is, as the system now exists, you have to fight for yourself to live at all, so that creates fear; and then we try to find remedies to get rid of this fear. Whereas, if you really altered the condition that creates this fear, then there is no need for remedies; then you are really tackling at the very source the very creator of fear. Cannot we conceive of a state when you have not got to fight for your existence? Not that there are not other kinds of fear, which we will go into later; but it is this idea of nationality, this idea of race-consciousness, class-consciousness, the means of production in the hands of the few, and therefore the process of exploitation: it is these that prevent you from living naturally without this continual fight for self-preservation and security, which, I say, in an intelligent state is absurd. We are just like animals really, though we may call ourselves civilized, each one fighting for himself and his family; and that is one of the fundamental causes of fear. If you really understand environment and the battling against it, then you do not care, and fear loses its grip. But there is a fear of another kind, the fear of inward poverty. There is the fear of external poverty, and then there is the fear of being shallow, of being empty, of being lonely. So, being afraid, we resort to the various remedies in the hope of enriching ourselves. Whereas, what is really happening? You are merely covering up that hollowness, that shallowness, by innumerable remedies. It may be the remedy of literature, by reading a great deal - not that I am against reading. It may be this exaggeration of sport, this continual rush, of keeping together at all costs, being in the run, belonging to certain groups, certain classes, certain societies, being in the clique, among the smart set. You know, we all go through it. All these but indicate the fear of that loneliness which you must inevitably face one day or the other. And as long as that emptiness exists, that shallowness, that hollowness, that void, there must be fear. To be really free of that fear, which is to be free of that emptiness, that shallowness, is not to cover it up by remedies; but rather to recognize that shallowness, become aware of it, which gives you then the alertness of mind to find out the values and the significance of each experience, of each standard, of each environment. Through that you will discover true intelligence; and intelligence is deep, profound, limitless, and therefore shallowness disappears. It is when you are trying to cover it up, trying to gain something to fill that emptiness, that the emptiness grows more and more. But, if you know that you are empty, not try to run away, in that awareness your mind becomes very acute, because you are suffering. The moment you are conscious that you are empty, hollow, there is tremendous conflict taking place. In that moment of conflict you are discovering, as you move along, the significance of experience - the standards, the values of society, of religion, of the conditions placed upon you. Instead of covering up emptiness, there is a depth of intelligence. Then you are never lonely even if you are by yourself or with a huge crowd, then there is no such thing as emptiness, shallowness. Question: Will people act by instinct, or will someone have to point out the way always? Krishnamurti: Now, instinct is not a thing to be trusted. Is it? Because instinct has been so perverted, so bound by tradition, by authority, by environment, that you can no longer trust it. That is, the instinct of possessiveness is a false thing, an unnatural thing. I will explain to you why. It has been created by a society which is based on individual security; and therefore the instinct of possessiveness has been carefully cultivated throughout the generations. We say, "Instinctively I am possessive. It is human nature to be possessive", but if you really look at it, you will see it has been cultivated by false conditions, and therefore the instinct of possessiveness is not true instinct. So we have many instincts which have been falsely fostered, and if you depend on another to lead you out of these false instinctive standards, then you will go into another cage; you will create another set of standards which will again pervert you. Whereas, if you really look into each instinct and not try to identify yourself with that instinct, but try to discover its significance, then out of that comes a natural spontaneous action, the true intuition. You know, you have been here at my talks, fortunately or unfortunately, for the last four or five days, and merely listening to my talks is not going to do anything, is not going to give you wisdom. What gives wisdom is action. Wisdom is not a thing to be bought, or got from encyclopaedias, or from reading philosophies. I have never read any philosophies. It is only in the process of action that you begin to discern what is false and what is true; and very few people are alert, eager for action. They would rather sit down and discuss, or attend churches, create mysteries out of nothing, because their minds are slothful, lazy, and behind that there is the fear of going against society, against the established order. So listening to my talks, or reading what I have said, is not going to awaken intelligence or lead you to truth, to that ecstasy of life which is in continual movement. What brings wisdom is to become aware of one of these hindrances, and to act. Take, as I said, the hindrance of patriotism or of belief, and begin to act, and you will see to what depth, to what profundity of thought it will lead you. You go far beyond any theoretical theologian, any philosopher; and in that action you will find out that there comes a time when you are not seeking for a result from your action, a fruit from your action, but the very action itself has meaning. As a scientist experiments, and in the process of experimenting there are results, but he continues experimenting; so, in the same way, in the process of experimenting, in the process of liberating the mind and heart from hindrances there will take place action, result. But the essential thing is that there is this continual movement of mind and heart. If all action is really the expression of that movement, then action becomes the new society, the new environment and therefore society is not being approximated to some ideal, but in that action, society is also moving, never static, never still, and morality is then a voluntary perception, not forced through fear, or imposed externally by society or by religion. So, gradually, in this process of liberating the mind from the false, there is not the replacement of the false by the true, but only the true. Then you are no longer seeking a substitution, but in the processes of discovering the false, you liberate the mind to move, to live eternally, and then action becomes a spontaneous, natural thing, and therefore life becomes, not a school in which to learn to compete, to fight, life becomes a thing to be lived intelligently, supremely, happily. And such a life is the life of a consummate human being. AUCKLAND, NEW ZEALAND TALK TO BUSINESSMEN 6TH APRIL, 1934 Friends, I think that most of us think that it would be a marvellous world if there were no real exploitation, and that it would be a splendid world if every human being had the capacity to live naturally, fully and humanly. But there are very few who want to do anything about it. As ideals, as a Utopia, as a thing of a dream, everyone indulges in it, but very few desire action. You cannot bring about a Utopia nor can there be the cessation of exploitation without action. Now, there can be action, collective action, only if there is first of all individual thinking out of that problem. Every human being, in sane moments, feels the horror of real exploitation, whether by the priest, by the business man, by the doctor, by the politician, or by anybody. We all feel really, in our hearts, the appalling cruelty of exploitation, if we have given a single moment's thought to it. And yet each one is caught up in this wheel, in this system of exploitation, and we are waiting and hoping that by some miracle a new system will come into being. And so, individually, we feel we have but to wait, let things take their natural course, and by some extraordinary means a new world will come into being. Surely, to create a new thing, a new world, a new conception of organization, individuals must begin. That is, the business people, or anyone in particular, must begin to find out if their action is really based on exploitation. Now, as I said, there is the exploitation of the priest based on fear, there is the exploitation of the business man based on his own aggrandizement, accumulation of wealth, greed, subtle forms of selfishness and security; and as you are all here supposed to be business men, surely you cannot leave every human problem aside and concern yourselves wholly with business. After all, business men are human beings, and human beings, so long as they are exploited, must have this rebellious spirit in them continually. It is only when you have reached a certain level where you are fairly secure that you forget all about this condition, about changing the world, or bringing about a certain attitude of spontaneous action towards life. Because we have reached a certain stage of security, we forget, and feel everything is all right; but behind it all one can feel that there cannot be happiness, human happiness, so long as there is real exploitation. Now, to me, exploitation comes into being when individuals seek more than their essential needs; and to discover your essential needs requires a great deal of intelligence, and you cannot be intelligent so long as your needs are the result of the pursuit of security, of comfort. Naturally, one must have food, shelter, clothing, and all the rest of it; but to make this possible for everyone, individuals must begin to realize their own needs, the needs which are human, and organize the whole system of thought and action on that, and then only can there be real creative happiness in the world. But now what is happening? We are fighting each other all the time, elbowing each other out, there is continual competitiveness, where each one feels insecure, and yet we go on drifting, without taking a definite action. That is, instead of waiting for a miracle to take place to alter this system, it needs a complete revolutionary change, which each one recognizes. Although we may have a slight fear of world revolution, we all recognize the immense necessity of a change. And yet, individually, we are incapable of bringing about that change, because, individually, we have not given consideration, individually we have not tried to find out why there should be this continual process of exploitation. When individuals are really intelligent, then they will create an organization which will provide the essential needs for humanity, not based on exploitation. Individually we cannot live apart from society. Society is the individual and as long as individuals are merely continually seeking their own self-security, for themselves or their family, there must be a system of exploitation. And there cannot be real happiness in the world if individuals, as yourselves, treat the world's affairs, human affairs, apart from business. That is, you cannot be, if I may say so, nationalistically inclined, and yet talk about the freedom of trade. You cannot consider New Zealand as the first important country, and then reject all other countries, because you feel, individually, the essential need for your own security. That is, sirs, if I may put it this way, there can be real freedom of trade, development of industries, and so on, only when there are no nationalities in the world. I think that is obvious. So long as there are tariff walls protecting each country there must be wars, confusion and chaos; but if we were able to treat the whole world, not as divided into nationalities, into classes, but as a human entity; not divided by religious sects, by capitalist class and the worker class; then only is there a possibility of real freedom in trade, in co-operation. To bring this about you cannot merely preach or attend meetings. There cannot be mere intellectual enjoyment of these ideas, there must be action; and to bring about action, individually we must begin, even though we may suffer for it. We must begin to create intelligent opinion, and thereby we shall have a world where individuality is not crushed out, beaten to a particular pattern, but becomes a means of expression of life; not the battered, conditioned shape which we call human beings. Most people want and realize there must be a complete change. I cannot see any way but by beginning as individuals, and then that individual opinion will become the realization of humanity. Question: What intelligible meaning, may I ask, do you attach to the idea of a masculine God as postulated by practically the whole of the Christian clergy, and arbitrarily imposed upon the masses during the dark ages of the past and until the present moment? A God conceived of in terms of the masculine gender, must, by all the canons of sound and sane logic, be thought of, prayed to, importuned and worshipped in terms of personality. And a personal God - personal as we human beings necessarily are -must be limited in time, space, power and purpose, and a God so limited can be no God at all. In the very face of this colossal imposition, arbitrarily imposed upon the masses, is it any wonder that we find the world in its present catastrophic condition? God to be God must, in sober and sane reality, be the absolute and infinite totality of all existence, both negative and positive. Is that not so? Krishnamurti: Sir, why do you want to know whether God is masculine or feminine? Why do we question? Why do we try to find out if there is a God, if it is personal, if it is masculine? Is it not because we feel the insufficiency of living? We feel that if we can find out what this immense reality is, then we can mould our lives according to that reality; so we begin to preconceive what that reality must be or should be, and shape that reality according to our fancies and whims, according to our prejudices and temperaments. So we begin to build up by a series of contradictions and oppositions, an idea of what we think God should be; and, to me, such a God is no God at all. It is a human means of escape from the constant battles of life, from this thing which we call exploitation, from the inanities of life, the loneliness, the sorrows. Our God is merely a means of escape from these things; whereas, to me, there is something much more fundamental, real. I say there is something like God; let us not inquire into what it is. You will find out if you begin to really understand the very conflict which is crippling the mind and heart: this continual struggle for self-security, this horror of exploitation, wars and nationalities, and the absurdities of organized religion. If we can face these and understand them, then we shall find out the real meaning instead of speculating; the real meaning of life, the real meaning of God. Question: Do you follow Mahomet, or the Christ? Krishnamurti: May I ask why anyone should follow another? After all, truth or God is not to be found by imitating another: then we will only make ourselves into machines. Surely, need we, as human beings, belong to any sect, whether Muhammadanism, Christianity, Hinduism, or Buddhism? If you set up one person as your Saviour, or as your guide, then there must be exploitation; there must be the shaping of the world into a particular narrow sect. Whereas, if we really do not set anyone up in authority, but if we find out whatever they say, or any human being says, then we shall realize something which is lasting; but merely following another does not lead us anywhere. I take it that you are all Christians, and you say you are following Christ. Are you? Are human beings, whether they belong to Christianity or Muhammadanism or Buddhism, really following their leaders? It is impossible. They don't. So why call yourselves by different names and separate yourselves? Whereas, if we really altered the environment to which we have become such slaves, then we should be really Gods in ourselves, not follow anybody. Personally, I do not belong to any sect, large or small. I have found truth, God, or whatever you like to call it, but I cannot transmit it to another. One can discover it only through consummate intelligence, and not through imitation of certain principles, beliefs and personages. Question: Is there an exterior force or influence known as organized evil? Krishnamurti: Is there? The modern business man, the nationalist, the follower of religion - I call these people evils, organized evils; because, sirs, individually we have created these horrors in the world. How have religions come into being with their power to exploit ruthlessly people through fear? How have they grown into such formidable machines? We individually have created them through our fear of the hereafter. Not that there is no hereafter: that is quite a different thing altogether. We have created it, and in that machine we are caught; and it is only the very rare few who break away, and those people you call Christ, Buddha, Lenin, or X, Y, Z. Then there is the evil of society as it is. It is an organized, oppressive machine to control human beings. You think if human beings are released they will become dangerous, they will do all kinds of horrors; so you say, "Let us socially control them, by tradition, by opinion, by the limitation of morality; and it is the same thing economically. So gradually these evils become accepted as normal, healthy things. Surely it is obvious how through education we are made to fit into a system where individual vocation is never thought of. You are made to fit into some work; and so we create a dual life, throughout our lives, that of business from 10 to 5, or whatever it is, which has nothing to do with the other, our private, social, home-life. So we are living continually in contradiction, going occasionally, if you are interested, to church, to keep up the fashion, the show. We inquire into reality, into God, when there are moments of strife, moments of oppression, moments when there is a crash. We say, "There must be some reality. Why are we living?" So we gradually create in our lives a duality, and therefore we become such hypocrites. So, to me, there is an evil. It is the evil of exploitation engendered by individuals through their longing for security, self-preservation at all costs, irrespective of the whole of human beings; and in that there is no affection, no real love, but merely this possessiveness which we term as love. Question: Can you tell us how you have arrived at this degree of understanding? Krishnamurti: I am afraid it would take very long, and it may be very personal. First of all, sirs, I am not a philosopher, I am not a student of philosophy. I think one who is merely a student of philosophy is already dead. But I have lived with all kinds of people, and I have been brought up, as you perhaps know, to fulfil a certain function, a certain office. Again, that means "exploiter". And I was also the head of a tremendous organization throughout the world, for spiritual purposes; and I saw the fallacy of it, because you cannot lead men to truth. You can only make them intelligent through education, which has nothing to do with priests and their means of exploitation - ceremonies. So I disbanded that organization; and, living with people, and not having a fixed idea about life, or a mind bound by a certain traditional background, I began to discover what, to me, is truth: truth to everybody - a life which one can live healthily, sanely, humanly; not based on exploitation, but on needs. I know what I need, and that is not very much, so whether I work for it by digging in a garden, or talking, or writing, that is not of great importance. First of all, to discover anything, there must be great discontent, great questioning, unhappiness; and very few people in the world, when they are discontented, desire to accentuate that discontent, desire to go through it to find out. They generally want the opposite. If they are discontented, they want happiness, whereas, for myself - if I may be personal - I did not want the opposite, I wanted to find out; and so gradually through various questionings and through continual friction, I came to realize that which one may call truth or God. I hope I have answered it. Question: Tell us something of your idea of the hereafter. Krishnamurti: Isn't it extraordinary! This is supposed to be a meeting for business people, and we are talking about the hereafter, God, and all the rest. It indicates that we are not interested in our business at all; we are interested in this merely as a means of getting money to exist; and our human interests are divorced from our daily living. Now, with regard to what lies hereafter. Perhaps you have read what some of the great scientists in Europe are saying: that there is a continuance after death. Some of them maintain that there is an individual continuance, others with equal emphasis deny it. It is pretty obvious that there is some kind of continuity, whether it is the thought-form of the entity that dies, or the expression of the world thought, and so on. Now, let us find out, inquire into what we call individuality. When we ask the question, "Is there a hereafter?" why do we ask it? Because you want to know if you will continue as Mr. X when you die; or you want to know because you love someone tremendously, and that person has died. So let us find out what is this thing we call individuality - that is, my brother, my wife, my child, or myself: what is it? When you talk about Mr. X, what is that Mr. X? Is it not form, name, certain prejudices, a certain bank account, certain class distinctions? That is, Mr. X has become the focal point of this condition of society. I hope I am explaining this. I will put it this way. An ordinary individual now, as he is, is nothing else but the focal point of the environment, of society, of religion, of moral edicts and economic conditions - as the ordinary individual, he is that. Isn't it so? That focal point, with its contradictions, prejudices, hopes, longings, fears, likes and dislikes, that constitutes that bundle which we call an individual, as Mr. X. Now, we want to know if that Mr. X shall live in the hereafter. There is the possibility that he may live, and he lives now. Wait a minute. That is not of importance, is it? Because what we call individuals are nothing else but the result of false environment. This focal point of the present state of individuality is really false, isn't it? An ordinary man has to fight in this world to live at all. He has to be competitive, ruthless, and he must belong to certain classes of society, Bourgeois, Proletariat, Capitalist; or he belongs to certain religious sects called by various names, Christianity, Hinduism, Buddhism and so on. Surely these environments are false when I have to fight ruthlessly my neighbour to live at all. Isn't there something rotten in such a state? Isn't there something abnormal in dividing ourselves into class distinctions? Isn't there something crude when we have to call ourselves Christians, Hindus, Muhammadans or Buddhists? So these false environments create friction in the mind, and mind identifies itself with that conflict, identifies itself as Mr. X. And then the question arises, "What happens? Shall I live, or not live?" As I say, there is a possibility that they may live; but in that living there is no happiness, creative intelligence, joy in life; it is a continual battle. Whereas, if we understand the true significance of all these environments placed on the mind - religious, social, and economic - therefore freeing the mind from conflict, we shall find out that there is a different focal unit, a different individuality altogether; and I say that individuality is continuous; it is not yours and mine. That individuality is the eternal expression of life itself, and in that there is no death, there is no beginning and end; in that there is a wider conception of life. Whereas, in this false individuality there must be death, there must be continual inquiry whether I shall live or shall not live. The fear is continual, haunting, pursuing. Question: Do you think the social systems of the world will evolve to a state of international brotherhood, or will it be brought about through parliamentary institution, or by education? Krishnamurti: As society is organized, you cannot have international brotherhood. You cannot remain a New Zealander, and I a Hindu, and talk about brotherhood. How can there be brotherhood really, if you are restricted by economic conditions, by this patriotism which is such a false thing? That is, how can there be brotherhood if you remain as a New Zealander, holding on to your particular prejudices, your tariff walls, patriotism, and all the rest; and I a Hindu living in India, with my prejudices? We can talk about tolerance, leaving each other alone, or my sending you missionaries and your sending me missionaries, but there cannot be brotherhood. How can there be brotherhood when you are a Christian and I am a Hindu, when you are priest-ridden and I am also priest-ridden in a different way, when you have one form of worship and I have another? - which does not mean that you must come to my form of worship or that I must go into yours. So, as things are, they will not result in brotherhood. On the contrary, there is nationalism, more sovereign governments, which are but the instruments of war. So, as social institutions exist, they cannot evolve into a magnificent thing, because their very basis, their foundation is wrong; and your parliaments, your education based on these ideas, will not bring about brotherhood. Look at all our nations. What are they? Nothing but instruments of war. Each country is better than the other, each country beating another, inflaming this false thing called patriotism. Please, you like certain countries, certain countries are more beautiful than others, and you appreciate it. You enjoy beauty as you enjoy a sunset, whether here, in Europe or America. There is nothing nationalistic, no patriotic feeling behind it - you enjoy it. Patriotism comes only when people begin to use your enjoyment to a purpose. And how can there be real brotherhood, through patriotism, when the whole form of government is based on class distinctions, when one class that has everything rules the other which has nothing, or sends representatives who have nothing to parliament? Surely this approach to human state, human unity is impossible. It is so obvious, it does not even need discussion. So long as there are class distinctions developing into nationalities, based on exploitation by the possessive class, or the class which has the means of production in its hands, there must be wars; and through wars you are not going to get brotherhood. That is obvious. You can see that in Europe since the War: more national feeling, greater flag-waving, higher tariff walls. That, surely, is not going to produce brotherhood. It may produce brotherhood in the sense that there will be a great catastrophe and people will wake up and say, "For God's sake, let us wake up and be sensible." Eventually that may produce brotherhood; but nationalities are not going to produce brotherhood, any more than religious distinctions, which are really, if you come to think of it, based on refined selfishness. We all want to be secure in heaven -whatever that place is - safe, secure, certain, and so we create institutions, organizations, to bring about the certainty, and we call these religions, and thereby increase exploitation. Whereas, if we really see the falseness of all these things, not only perceive it intellectually but really feel it completely with our mind and heart, then there is a possibility of brotherhood. If we perceive it and act, then there is a voluntary, true, moral act. I call that a true moral act when we perceive a thing completely and act, and not when forced by circumstances, or there is brought about a brotherhood forced by the sheer brutal necessity of life. That is, when business people, the capitalist, the financiers, begin to see that this distinction does not pay, that they cannot make more money, they cannot be in the same position, then they will bring about environment forcing the individual to become brotherly; as now you are forced by environment to be unbrotherly, to exploit, so you will also be forced to co-operate. Surely that is not brotherhood: that is merely an action brought about by convenience, without human intelligence and understanding. So, to really bring human intelligence into action, individuals must morally and voluntarily act and then they will create an organization in which they will be real fighters against exploitation. But that needs a great deal of perception, a great deal of intelligent action, and you can begin only with yourself; you can only tend your own garden, you cannot look after your neighbour's. Question: Please be candid. Can we know truth as you do, cease to exploit, and still remain in business, or do you suggest we sell out? Could you go into trade and remain as you are? Krishnamurti: Sir, please, I am not dodging the issue. I will be perfectly candid. As the system is organized, unless you withdraw into a desert island where you cook and do everything for yourselves, there must be exploitation. Isn't that so? It is obvious. As long as the system is based on individual competition, security, possessiveness, as its foundation, there must be exploitation. But cannot you be free of that foundation because you are not afraid, because you have discovered what are your essential needs, because you are rich in yourself? Therefore, although you remain in trade, you find that your needs are very few; whereas, if there is poverty of mind and heart, your needs become colossal. But again, unless one is really honest, absolutely frank, and does not subtly deceive oneself, what I have said can be used to exploit further. I would not mind personally going into trade, but to me it would have no value, because I have no need to go into trade. Therefore, what is the use of my talking theoretically? Not that I have money; but I would do anything reasonable, sane, because my needs are very few, and I have no fear of being crushed out. It is when there is a fear of losing - the fear of the loss of security, preservation -that we fight. But if you are prepared to lose everything because you have nothing - well there is no exploitation. This sounds ridiculous, absurd, savage, primitive, but if you really think about it sanely, if you give a few minutes of your real creative thought to it, you will see it is not so absurd as all that. It is the savage who is continually at the behest of his wants, not the man of intelligence. He does not cling to things, because inwardly he is supremely rich; therefore his external needs are very few. Surely we can organize a society which is based on needs, not on this exploitation through advertising. I hope I have answered your question, sir. Question: Without wishing to exploit the speaker, I look upon him as one of the greatest of all exemplifiers of philosophic altruism, but I would much like him to tell his audience here this afternoon what belief he has in the ultimate millennium, that no doubt he and the whole of the human race seek. Krishnamurti: Sir, to have a perfect millennium means the savage must be as intelligent as anyone else, must have as perfect conditions as anyone else. That is, all human beings living in the world at the precise moment, at the same time, must all be happy. Surely that is the millennium, isn't it? That is what we mean when we talk about it. All right, sir. Wait a minute. Is such a thing possible? Surely it is not possible. We think a millennium is a moment when the ideal has come into being, when civilization has reached its highest pinnacle. It is like a human being who shapes his life to a certain ideal, and reaches the height. What happens to such a human being? He wants something else, there is a further ideal. Therefore, he never reaches the culmination. But when a human being lives, not trying to achieve, to succeed, to reach a height, but is living fully, humanly, all the time, then his action, which must be reflected in society, will not reach a pinnacle. It will be constantly on the move, therefore continually increasing, and not striving after a culmination. OJAI 1ST PUBLIC TALK 16TH JUNE, 1934 It is my purpose during these talks not so much to give a system of thought, as to awaken thought, and to do that I am going to make certain statements, naturally not dogmatic, which I hope you will consider, and as you consider them, there will arise many questions; if you will kindly put these to me, I will try to answer them, and thus we can discuss further what I have to say. I wonder why most of you come here? Presumably you are seeking something. And what are you seeking? You cannot answer that question, naturally, because your search varies, the object of your search varies; the object of your search is constantly changing, so you do not definitely know what you seek, what you want. But you have established unfortunately a habit of going from one supposed spiritual teacher to another supposed spiritual teacher, of joining various organizations, societies, and of following systems; in other words, trying to find out what gives you greater and greater satisfaction, excitement. This process of going from one school of thought to another, from one system of thought to another, from one teacher to another, you call the search for truth. In other words, you are going from one idea to another idea, from one system of thought to another, accumulating, hoping to understand life, trying to fathom its significance, its struggles, each time declaring that you have found something. Now, I hope you won't say at the end of my talks that you have found something, because the moment you have found something you are already lost; it is an anchor to which mind clings, and therefore that eternal movement, this true search of which I am going to speak, ceases. And most minds are looking for a definite aim, with this definite desire to find, and when once there is established this desire, you will find something. But it won't be something living, it will be a dead thing that you will find, and therefore you will put that away to turn to another; and this process of continually choosing, continually discarding, you call acquiring wisdom, experience, or truth. Probably most of you have come here with this attitude, consciously or unconsciously, so your thought is expended merely on the search for schemes and confirmations, on the desire to join a movement or form groups, without the clarity of the fundamental or trying to understand what these fundamental things of life mean. So as I said, I am not putting forward an ideal to be imitated, a goal to be found, but my purpose is rather to awaken that thought by which the mind can liberate itself from these things which we have established, which we have taken for granted as being true. Now, each one tries to immortalize the product of environment; that thing which is the result of the environment we try to make eternal. That is, the various fears, hopes, longings, prejudices, likes, personal views which we glorify as our temperament - these are, after all, the result, the product of environment; and the bundle of these memories, which is the result of environment, the product of the reactions to environment, this bundle becomes that consciousness which we call the "I". Is that not so? The whole struggle is between the result of environment with which mind identifies itself and becomes the "I", between that, and environment. After all, the "I", the consciousness with which the mind identifies itself is the result of environment. The struggle takes place between that "I" and the constantly changing environment. You are continually seeking immortality for this "I". In other words, falsehood tries to become the real, the eternal. When you understand the significance of the environment, there is no reaction and therefore there is no conflict between the reaction, that is, between what we call the "I" and the creator of the reaction which is the environment. So this seeking for immortality, this craving to be certain, to be lasting, is called the process of evolution, the process of acquiring truth or God or the understanding of life. And anyone who helps you towards this, who helps you to immortalize reaction which we call the "I", you make of him your redeemer, your saviour, your master, your teacher, and you follow his system. You follow him with thought, or without thought; with thought when you think that you are following him with intelligence because he is going to lead you to immortality, to the realization of that ecstasy. That is, you want another to immortalize for you that reaction which is the outcome of environment, which is in itself inherently false. Out of the desire to immortalize that which is false you create religions, sociological systems and divisions, political methods, economic panaceas, and moral standards. So gradually in this process of developing systems to make the individual immortal, lasting, secure, the individual is completely lost, and he comes into conflict with the creations of his own search, with the creations which are born out of his longing to be secure and which he calls immortality. After all, why should religions exist? Religions as divisions of thought have grown, have been glorified and nourished by sets of beliefs because there is this desire that you shall realize, that you shall attain, that there shall be immortality. And again, moral standards are merely the creations of society, so that the individual may be held within its bondage. To me, morality cannot be standardized. There cannot be at the same time morality and standards. There can only be intelligence, which is not, which cannot be standardized. But we shall go into that in my later talks. So this continual search in which each one of us is caught up, the search for happiness, for truth, for reality, for health - this continual desire is cultivated by each one of us in order that we may be secure, permanent. And out of that search for permanency, there must be conflict, conflict between the result of environment, that is the "I", and the environment itself. Now if you come to think of it, what is the "I"? When you talk about "I", "mine", my house, my enjoyment, my wife, my child, my love, my temperament, what is that? It is nothing but the result of environment, and there is a conflict between that result, the "I", and the environment itself. Conflict can only and must inevitably exist between the false and the false, not between truth and the false. Isn't that so? There cannot be conflict between what is true and what is false. But there can be conflict and there must be conflict between two false things, between the degrees of falseness, between the opposites. So do not think this struggle between the self and the environment, which you call the true struggle, is true. Isn't there a struggle taking place in each one of you between yourself and your environment, your surroundings, your husband, your wife, your child, your neighbour, your society, your political organizations? Is there not a constant battle going on? You consider that battle necessary in order to help you to realize happiness, truth, immortality, or ecstasy. To put it differently: What you consider to be the truth is but self-consciousness, the "I", which is all the time trying to become immortal, and the environment which I say is the continual movement of the false. This movement of the false becomes your ever changing environment, which is called progress, evolution. So to me, happiness, or truth, or God, cannot be found as the outcome of the result of environment, the "I", the continually changing conditions. I will try to put it again, differently. There is conflict, of which each one of you is conscious, between yourself and the environment, the conditions. Now, you say to yourself: "If I can conquer environment, overcome it, dominate it, I shall find out, I shall understand; so there is this continual battle going on between yourself and environment. Now what is the "yourself"? It is but the result, the product of environment. So what are you doing? You are fighting one false thing with another false thing, and environment will be false so long as you do not understand it. Therefore the environment is producing that consciousness which you call the "I", which is continually trying to become immortal. And to make it immortal there must be many ways, there must be means, and therefore you have religions, systems, philosophies, all the nuisances and barriers that you have created. Hence there must be conflict between the result of environment and environment itself; and, as I said, there can be conflict only between the false and the false; never between truth and the false. Whereas, in your minds there is this firmly established idea that in this struggle between the result of environment, which is the "I", and the environment itself, lies power, wisdom, the path to eternity, to reality, truth, happiness. Our vital concern should be with this environment, not with the conflict, not how to overcome it, not how to run away from it. By questioning the environment and trying to understand its significance, we shall find out its true worth. Isn't that so? Most of us are enmeshed, caught up in the process of trying to overcome, to run away from circumstances. environment; we are not trying to find out what it means, what is its cause, its significance, its value. When you see the significance of environment, it means drastic action, a tremendous upheaval in your life, a complete, revolutionary change of ideas, in which there is no authority, no imitation. But very few are willing to see the significance of environment, because it means change, a radical change, a revolutionary change, and very few people want that. So most people, vast numbers of people, are concerned with the evasion of environment; they cover it up, or try to find new substitutions by getting rid of Jesus Christ and setting up a new saviour; by seeking new teachers in place of the old, but they do not ever inquire whether they need a guide at all. This alone would help, this alone would give the true significance of that particular demand. So where there is a search for substitution, there must be authority, the following of leadership, and hence the individual becomes but a cog in the social and religious machinery of life. If you look closely you will see that your search is nothing but a search for comfort and security and escape; not a search for understanding, not a search for truth, but rather a search for an evasion and therefore a search for the conquering of all obstacles; after all, all conquering is but substitution, and in substitution there is no understanding. There are escapes through religions, with their edicts, moral standards, fears, authorities; and escapes through self-expression -what you call self-expression, what the vast majority of people call self-expression, is but the reaction against environment, is but the effort to express oneself through reaction against that environment - self-expression through art, through science, through various forms of action. Here I am not including the true, spontaneous expressions of beauty, of art, of science; they in themselves are complete. I am talking of the man who is seeking these things as a means of self-expression. A real artist does not talk about his self-expression, he is expressing that which he intensely feels; but there are so many spurious artists, like the spurious spiritual people, who are all the time seeking self-expression as a means of getting something, some satisfaction which they cannot find in the environment in which they live. Through this search for security and permanency, we have established religions with all their inanities, divisions, exploitations, as means of escape; and these means of escape become so vital, so important, because, to tackle environment, that is, the conditions about us, demands tremendous action, voluntary, dynamic action, and very few are willing to take that action. On the contrary, you are willing to be forced to an action by environment, by circumstances; that is, if a man becomes highly moral and virtuous through depression, you say what a nice man he is, how he has changed. For that change you depend upon environment; and so long as there is the dependence on environment for righteous action, there must be means of escape, substitutions, call it religion or what you will. Whereas, for the true artist who is also truly spiritual there is spontaneous expression, which in itself is sufficient, complete, whole. So what are you doing? What is happening to each one of you? What are you trying to do in your lives? You are seeking; and what are you seeking? There is a conflict between yourself and the constant movement of environment. You are seeking a means to overcome that environment, so as to perpetuate your own self which is but the result of that environment; or, because you have been thwarted so often by environment, which prevents you from self-expressing, as you call it, you seek a new means of self-expression through service to humanity, through economic adjustments, and all the rest of it. Each one has to find out for what he is searching; if he is not searching, then there is satisfaction and decay. If there is conflict, there is the desire to overcome that conflict, to escape from that conflict, to dominate it. And as I have said, conflict can exist only between two false things, between that supposed reality which you call the "I", which to me is nothing else but the result of environment, and the environment itself. And hence if your mind is merely concerned with the overcoming of that struggle, then you are perpetuating falseness, and hence there is more conflict, more sorrow. But if you understand the significance of environment, that is, wealth, poverty, exploitation, oppression, nationalities, religions, and all the inanities of social life in modern existence, not trying to overcome them but seeing their significance, then there must be individual action, and complete revolution of ideas and thought. Then there is no longer a struggle, but rather light dispelling darkness. There is no conflict between light and darkness. There is no conflict between truth and that which is false. There is only conflict where there are opposites. OJAI 2ND PUBLIC TALK 17TH JUNE, 1934 You may remember that yesterday I was talking about the birth of conflict, and how the mind seeks a solution for it. I want to deal this morning with the whole idea of conflict and disharmony, and show the utter futility of mind trying to seek a solution for conflict, because the mere search for the solution will not do away with the conflict itself. When you seek a solution, a means of dissolving the conflict, you merely try to superimpose, or substitute in its place, a new set of ideas, a new set of theories, or you try to run away from conflict altogether. When people desire a solution for their conflict, that is what they seek. If you observe, you will see that when there is conflict, you are at once seeking a solution for it. You want to find a way out of that conflict, and you generally do find a way out; but you have not solved the conflict, you have merely shifted it by substituting a new environment, a new condition, which will in turn produce further conflict. So let us look into this whole idea of conflict, from where it arises, and what we can do with it. Now, conflict is the result of environment, isn't it? To put it differently, what is environment? When are you conscious of environment? Only when there is conflict and a resistance to that environment. So, if you observe, if you look into your lives, you will see that conflict is continually twisting, perverting, shaping your lives; and intelligence, which is the perfect harmony of mind and heart, has no part in your lives at all. That is, environment is continually shaping, moulding your lives to action, and naturally out of that continual twisting, moulding, shaping, perversion, conflict is born. So where there is this constant process of conflict there cannot be intelligence. And yet we think that by continually going through conflict we shall arrive at that intelligence, that fullness, and that plenitude of ecstasy. But by the accumulation of conflict we cannot find out how to live intelligently; you can find out how to live intelligently only when you understand the environment which is creating conflict, and mere substitution, that is, the introduction of new conditions, is not going to solve the conflict. And yet if you observe you will see that when there is conflict, mind is seeking a substitution. We either say, "It is heredity, economic conditions, past environment", or we assert our belief in karma, reincarnation, evolution; so we are trying to give excuses for the present conflict in which the mind is caught, and are not trying to find out what is the cause of conflict itself, which is to inquire into the significance of environment. Conflict then can exist only between environment -environment being economic and social conditions, political domination, neighbours - between that environment, and the result of environment which is the "I". Conflict can exist only so long as there is reaction to that environment which produces the "I", the self. The majority of people are unconscious of this conflict - the conflict between one's self, which is but the result of the environment, and the environment itself; very few are conscious of this continuous battle. One becomes conscious of that conflict, that disharmony, that struggle between the false creation of the environment, which is the "I", and the environment itself, only through suffering. Isn't that so? It is only through acuteness of suffering, acuteness of pain, acuteness of disharmony, that you become conscious of the conflict. What happens when you become conscious of the conflict? What happens when in that intensity of suffering you become fully conscious of the battle, the struggle which is going on? Most people want an immediate relief, an immediate answer. They want to shelter themselves from that suffering, and therefore they find various means of escape, which I mentioned yesterday, such as religions, excitements, inanities, and the many mysterious avenues of escape which we have created through our desire to protect ourselves from this struggle. Suffering makes one conscious of this conflict, and yet suffering will not lead man to that fullness, to that richness, that plenitude, that ecstasy of life, because after all, suffering can only awaken the mind to great intensity. And when the mind is acute, then it begins to question.he environment, the conditions, and in that questioning, intelligence is functioning; and it is only intelligence that will lead man to the fullness of life and to the discovery of the significance of sorrow. Intelligence begins to function in the moment of acuteness of suffering, when mind and heart are no longer escaping, escaping through the various avenues which you have so cleverly made, which are so apparently reasonable, factual, real. If you observe carefully, without prejudice, you will see that so long as there is an escape you are not solving, you are not coming face to face with conflict, and therefore your suffering is merely the accumulation of ignorance. That is, when one ceases to escape, through the well-known channels, then in that acuteness of suffering, intelligence begins to function. Please, I do not want to give you examples and similes, because I want you to think it out, and if I give examples I do all the thinking and you merely listen. Whereas if you begin to think about what I am saying, you will see, you will observe for yourself how mind, being accustomed to so many substitutions, authorities, escapes, never comes to that point of acuteness of suffering which demands that intelligence must function. And it is only when intelligence is fully functioning that there can be the utter dissolution of the cause of conflict. Whenever there is the lack of understanding of environment there must be conflict. Environment gives birth to conflict, and so long as we do not understand environment, conditions, surroundings, and are merely seeking substitutions for these conditions, we are evading one conflict and meeting another. But if in that acuteness of suffering which brings forth in its fullness a conflict, if in that state we begin to question environment, then we shall understand the true worth of environment, and intelligence then functions naturally. Hitherto mind has identified itself with conflict, with environment, with evasions, and therefore with suffering; that is, you say, "I suffer." Whereas, in that state of acuteness of suffering, in that intensity of suffering in which there is no longer escape, mind itself becomes intelligence. To put it again differently, so long as we are seeking solutions, so long as we are seeking substitutions, authorities for the cause and the alleviation of conflict, there must be identification of the mind with the particular. Whereas if the mind is in that state of intense suffering in which all the avenues of escape are blocked, then intelligence will be awakened, will function naturally and spontaneously. Please, if you experiment with this, you will see that I am not giving you theories, but something with which you can work, something which is practical. You have so many environments, which have been imposed on you by society, by religion, by economic conditions, by social distinctions, by exploitation and political oppressions. The "I" has been created by that imposition, by that compulsion; there is the "I" in you which is fighting the environment and hence there is conflict. It is no use creating a new environment, because the same thing will still exist. But if in that conflict there is conscious sorrow and suffering - and there is always suffering in all conflict, only man wants to run away from that struggle and he therefore seeks substitutes - if in that acuteness of suffering you stop searching for substitutes and really face the facts, you will see that mind, which is the summation of intelligence, begins to discover the true worth of environment, and then you will realize that mind is free of conflict. In the very acuteness of suffering lies its own dissolution. So therein is the understanding of the cause of conflict. Also, one should bear in mind that what we call accumulation of sorrows does not lead to intensity, nor does the multiplication of suffering lead to its own dissolution; for acuteness of mind in suffering comes only when the mind has ceased to escape. And no conflict will awaken that suffering, that acuteness of suffering, when the mind is trying to escape, for in escape there is no intelligence. To put it briefly again, before I answer the questions that have been given to me: First of all everyone is caught up in suffering and conflict, but most people are unconscious of that conflict; they are merely seeking substitutions, solutions and escapes. Whereas if they cease seeking escapes and begin to question the environment which causes that conflict, then mind becomes acute, alive, intelligent. In that intensity mind becomes intelligence and therefore sees the full worth and significance of the environment which creates conflict. Please, I am sure half of you don't understand this, but it doesn't matter. What you can do, if you will, is to think this over, really think it over, and see if what I am saying is not true. But to think over it is not to intellectualize it, that is, to sit down and make it vanish away through the intellect. To find out if what I am saying is true, you have to put it into action, and to put it into action you must question the environment. That is, if you are in conflict, naturally you must question the environment, but most minds have become so perverted that they are not aware that they are seeking solutions, escapes through their marvellous theories. They reason perfectly, but their reasoning is based on the search for escape, of which they are wholly unconscious. So if there is conflict, and if you want to find out the cause of that conflict, naturally the mind must discover it through acuteness of thought and therefore the questioning of all that which environment places about you - your family, your neighbours, your religions, your political authorities; and by questioning there will be action against the environment. There is the family, the neighbour and the state, and by questioning their significance you will see that intelligence is spontaneous, not to be acquired, not to be cultivated. You have sown the seed of awareness and that produces the flower of intelligence. Question: You say that the "I" is the product of environment. Do you mean that a perfect environment could be created which would not develop the "I" consciousness? If so, the perfect freedom of which you speak is a matter of creating the right environment. Is this correct? Voices from audience: "No." Krishnamurti: Wait a minute. Can there ever be right environment, perfect environment? There cannot. Those people who answered"no" haven't thought it out fully, so let us reason together, go into it fully. What is environment? Environment is created, this whole human structure has been created, by human fears, longings, hopes, desires, attainments. Now, you cannot make a perfect environment because each man is creating, according to his fancies and desires, new sets of conditions; but having an intelligent mind, you can pierce through all these false environments and therefore be free of that "I" consciousness. Please, the "I" consciousness, the sense of "mine", is the result of environment; isn't it? I don't think we need discuss it because it is pretty obvious. If the state gave you your house and everything you required, there would be no need of "my" house - there might be some other sense of "mine", but we are discussing the particular. As that has not been the case with you, there is the sense of"mine', possessiveness. That is the result of environment, that "I" is but the false reaction to environment. Whereas if the mind begins to question the environment itself, there is no longer a reaction to environment. Therefore we are not concerned with the possibility of there ever being a perfect environment. After all, what is perfect environment? Each man will tell you what to him is a perfect environment. The artist will say one thing, the financier another, the cinema actress another; each man asks for a perfect environment which satisfies him, in other words, which does not create conflict in him. Therefore there cannot be a perfect environment. But if there is intelligence, then environment has no value, no significance, because intelligence is then freed from circumstance, it is functioning fully. The question is not whether we can create a perfect environment, but rather how to awaken that intelligence which shall be free of environment, imperfect or perfect. I say you can awaken that intelligence by questioning the full value of any environment in which your mind is caught up. Then you will see that you are free of any particular environment, because then you are functioning intelligently, not being twisted, perverted, shaped by environment. Question: Surely you cannot mean what your words seem to convey. When I see vice rampant in the world, I feel an intense desire to fight against that vice and against all the suffering it creates in the lives of my fellow human beings. This means great conflict, for when I try to help I am often viciously opposed. How then can you say that there is no conflict between the false and the true? Krishnamurti: I said yesterday that there can be struggle only between two false things, conflict between the environment and the result of environment which is the "I". Now between these two lie innumerable avenues of escape which the "I" has created, which we call vice, goodness, morality, moral standards, fears, and all the many opposites; and the struggle can exist only between the two, between the false creation of the environment which is the "I", and the environment itself. But there cannot be struggle between truth and that which is false. Surely that is obvious, isn't it? You may be viciously opposed because the other man is ignorant. It doesn't mean you mustn't fight - but don't assume the righteousness of fighting. Please, you know there is a natural way of doing things, a spontaneous, sweet way of doing things, without this aggressive, vicious righteousness. First of all, in order to fight, you must know what you are fighting, so there must be understanding of the fundamental, not of the divisions between the false things. Now we are so conscious, we are so fully conscious of the divisions between the false things, between the result and the environment, that we fight them, and therefore we want to reform, we want to change, we want to alter, without fundamentally changing the whole structure of human life. That is, we still want to preserve the "I" consciousness which is the false reaction to environment; we want to preserve that and yet want to alter the world. In other words, you want to have your own bank account, your own possessions, you want to preserve the sense of "mine", and yet you want to alter the world so that there shall not be this idea of "mine", and"yours". So what one has to do is to find out if one is dealing with the fundamental, or merely with the superficial. And to me the superficial will exist so long as you are merely concerned with the alteration of environment so as to alleviate conflict. That is, you still want to cling to the "I" consciousness as "mine", but yet desire to alter the circumstances so that they will not create conflict in that "I". I call that superficial thought, and from that there naturally is superficial action. Whereas if you think fundamentally, that is, question the very result of the environment which is the "I", and therefore question the environment itself, then you are acting fundamentally, and therefore lastingly. And in that there is an ecstasy, in that there is a joy of which now you do not know because you are afraid to act fundamentally. Question: In your talk yesterday you spoke of environment as the movement of the false. Do you include in environment all the creations of nature, including human forms? Krishnamurti: Doesn't environment continually change? Doesn't it? For most people it doesn't change because change implies continual adjustment, therefore continual awareness of mind, and most people are concerned with the static condition of the environment. Yet environment is moving because it is beyond your control, and it is false so long as you do not understand its significance. "Does environment include human forms?" Why set them apart from nature? We are not concerned so much with nature, because we have almost brought nature under control, but we have not understood the environment created by human beings. Look at the relationship between peoples, between two human beings, and all the conditions which human beings have created that we have not understood, even though we have largely understood and conquered nature through science. So we are not concerned with the stability, with the continuance of an environment which we understand, because the moment we understand it there is no conflict. That is, we are seeking security, emotional and mental, and we are happy so long as that security is assured and therefore we never question environment, and hence the constant movement of environment is a false thing which is creating disturbance in each one. As long as there is conflict, it indicates that we have not understood the conditions placed about us; and that movement of environment remains false so long as we do not inquire into its significance, and we can only discover it in that state of acute consciousness of suffering. Question: It is perfectly clear to me that the "I" consciousness is the result of environment, but do you not see that the "I" did not originate for the first time in this life? From what you say it is obvious that the "I" consciousness, being the result of environment, must have begun in the distant past and will continue in the future. Krishnamurti: I know this is a question to catch me about reincarnation. But that doesn't matter. Now let's look into it. First of all you will admit, if you think about it, that the "I" is the result of environment. Now to me it doesn't matter whether it is the past environment or present environment. After all, environment is of the past also. You have done something which you haven't understood, you did something yesterday which you haven't understood, and that pursues you till you understand it. You cannot solve that past environment till you are fully conscious in the present. So it doesn't matter whether the mind is crippled by past or present conditions, What matters is that you shall understand the environment and this will liberate the mind from conflict. Some people believe that the "I" has had a birth in the distant past and will continue in the future. It is irrelevant to me, it has no significance at all. I will show you why. If the "I" is the result of the environment, if the "I" is but the essence of conflict, then the mind must be concerned, not with that continuance of conflict, but with freedom from that conflict. So it does not matter whether it is the past environment which is crippling the mind, or the present which is perverting it, or whether the "I" has had a birth in the distant past. What matters is that in that state of suffering, in that consciousness, that conscious acuteness of suffering, there is the dissolution of the "I". This brings in the idea of karma. You know what it means, that you have a burden in the present, the burden of the past in the present. That is, you bring with you the environment of the past into the present, and because of that burden, you control the future, you shape the future. If you come to think of it, it must be so, that if your mind is perverted by the past, naturally the future must also be twisted, because if you have not understood the environment of yesterday it must be continued today; and therefore, as you don't understand today, naturally you will not understand tomorrow either. That is, if you have not seen the full significance of an environment or of an action, this perverts your judgment of today's environment, of today's action born of environment, which will again pervert you tomorrow. So one is caught up in this vicious circle, and hence the idea of continual rebirth, rebirth of memory, or rebirth of the mind continued by environment. But I say mind can be free of the past, of past environment, past hindrances, and therefore you can be free of the future, because then you are living dynamically in the present, intensely, supremely. In the present is eternity, and to understand that, mind must be free of the burden of the past; and to free the mind of the past there must be an intense questioning of the present, not the considering of how the "I" will continue in the future. OJAI 3RD PUBLIC TALK 18TH JUNE, 1934 This morning I am only going to answer questions. Question: What is the difference between self-discipline and suppression? Krishnamurti: I don't think there is much difference between the two because both deny intelligence. Suppression is the gross form of the subtler self-discipline, which is also repression; that is, both suppression as well as self-discipline are mere adjustments to environment. One is the gross form of adjustment, which is suppression, and the other, self-discipline, is the subtle form. Both are based on fear: suppression, on an obvious fear; the other, self-discipline, on fear born of loss, or on fear which expresses itself through gain. Self-discipline - what you call self-discipline - is merely an adjustment to an environment which we have not completely understood; therefore in that adjustment there must be the denial of intelligence. Why has one ever to discipline one's self? Why does one discipline, force one's self to mould after a particular pattern? Why do so many people belong to the various schools of disciplines, supposed to lead to spirituality, to greater understanding, greater unfoldment of thought? You will see that the more you discipline the mind, train the mind, the greater its limitations. Please, one has to think this over carefully and with delicate perception and not get confused by introducing other issues. Here I am using the word self-discipline as in the question, that is, disciplining one's self after a certain pattern, preconceived or pre-established, and therefore with the desire to attain, to gain. Whereas to me the very process of discipline, this continual twisting of mind to a particular pre-established pattern, must eventually cripple the mind. The mind which is really intelligent is free of self-discipline, for intelligence is born out of the questioning of environment, and the discovery of the true significance of environment. In that discovery is true adjustment, not the adjustment to a particular pattern or condition, but the adjustment through understanding, which is therefore free of the particular condition. Take a primitive; what does he do? In him there is no discipline, no control, no suppression. He does what he desires to do, this primitive. The intelligent man also does what he desires, but with intelligence. Intelligence is not born out of self-discipline or suppression. In the one instance it is wholly the pursuit of desire, the primitive man pursuing the object he desires. In the other instance, the intelligent man sees the significance of desire and sees the conflict; the primitive man does not, he pursues anything he desires and creates suffering and pain. So to me self-discipline and suppression are both alike - they both deny intelligence. Please experiment with what I have said about discipline, self-discipline. Don't reject it, don't say you must have self-discipline, because there will be chaos in the world - as if there were not already chaos; and again, don't merely accept what I say, agreeing that it is true. I am telling you something with which I have experimented and which I have found to be true. Psychologically I think it is true, because self-discipline implies a mind that is tethered to a particular thought or belief or ideal, a mind that is held by a condition; and as an animal that is tethered to a post can only wander within the distance of its rope, so does the mind which is tethered to a belief, which is perverted through self-discipline, wander only within the limitation of that condition. Therefore such a mind is not mind at all, it is incapable of thought. It may be capable of adjustment between the limitations of the post and the farthest point of its reach; but such a mind, such a heart cannot really think and feel. The mind and the heart are disciplined, crippled, perverted, through denying thought, denying affection. So you must observe, become aware how your own thought, how your own feelings are functioning, without wanting to guide them in any particular direction. First of all, before you guide them, find out how they are functioning. Before you try to change and alter thought and feeling, find out the manner of their working, and you will see that they are continually adjusting themselves within the limitations established by that point fixed by desire and the fulfillment of that desire. In awareness there is no discipline. Let me take an example. Suppose that you are class-minded, class-conscious, snobbish. You don't know that you are snobbish, but you want to find out if you are; how will you find out? By becoming conscious of your thought and your emotions. Then what happens? Suppose that you discover that you are snobbish, then that very discovery creates a disturbance, a conflict, and that very conflict dissolves snobbishness. Whereas if you merely discipline the mind not to be snobbish, you are developing a different characteristic which is the opposite of being a snob, and being deliberate, therefore false, is equally pernicious. So, because we have established various patterns, various goals, aids, which we are continually, consciously or unconsciously, pursuing, we discipline our minds and hearts towards them, and therefore there must be control, perversion. Whereas if you begin to inquire into the conditions that create conflict, and thereby awaken intelligence, then that intelligence itself is so supreme that it is continually in movement and therefore there is never a static point which can create conflict. Question: Granted that the "I" is made up of reactions from environment, by what method can one escape its limitations; or how does one go about the process of re-orientation, in order to avoid conflict between the two false things? Krishnamurti: First of all, you want to know the method of escape from the limitations. Why? Why do you ask? Please, why do you always ask for a method, for a system? What does it indicate, this desire for a method? Every demand for a method indicates the desire to escape. You want me to lay down a system so that you may imitate that system. In other words, you want a system invented for you to superimpose on those conditions which are creating conflict, so that you can escape from all conflict. In other words you merely seek to adjust yourselves to a pattern, in order to escape from conflict or from your environment. That is the desire behind the demand for a method, for a system. You know life is not Pelmanism. The desire for a method indicates essentially the desire to escape. "How does one go about the process of re-orientation in order to avoid constant conflict between the two false things?" First of all, are you aware that you are in conflict, before you want to know how to get away from it? Or, being aware of conflict, are you merely seeking a refuge, a shelter which will not create further conflict? So let us decide whether you want a shelter, a safety zone, which will no longer yield conflict, whether you want to escape from the present conflict to enter a condition in which there shall be no conflict; or whether you are unaware, unconscious of this conflict in which you exist. If you are unconscious of the conflict, that is, the battle that is taking place between that self and the environment, if you are unconscious of that battle, then why do you seek further remedies? Remain unconscious. Let the conditions themselves produce the necessary conflict, without your rushing after, invoking artificially, falsely, a conflict which does not exist in your mind and heart. And you create artificially a conflict because you are afraid you are missing something. Life will not miss you. If you think it does, something is wrong with you. Perhaps you are neurotic, not normal. If you are in conflict, you will not ask me for a method. Were I to give you a method you would merely be disciplining yourself according to that method, trying to imitate an ideal, a pattern which I have laid down, and therefore destroying your own intelligence. Whereas if you are really conscious of that conflict, in that consciousness suffering will become acute and in that acuteness, in that intensity, you will dissolve the cause of suffering, which is the lack of understanding of the environment. You know we have lost all sense of living normally, simply, directly. To get back to that normality, that simplicity, that directness, you cannot follow methods, you cannot merely become automatic machines; and I am afraid most of us are seeking methods because we think that through them we shall realize fullness, stability and permanency. To me methods lead to slow stagnation and decay and they have nothing to do with real spirituality, which is, after all, the summation of intelligence. Question: You speak of the necessity of a drastic revolution in the life of the individual. If he does not want to revolutionize his outward personal environment because of the suffering it would cause to his family and friends, will inward revolution lead him to the freedom from all conflict? Krishnamurti: First of all, sirs, don't you also feel that a drastic revolution in the life of the individual is necessary? Or are you merely satisfied with things as they are, with your ideas of progress, evolution and your desire for attainment, with your longings and fluctuating pleasures? You know, the moment you begin to think, really begin to feel, you must have this burning desire for a drastic change, drastic revolution, complete reorientation of thinking. Now, if you feel that that is necessary, then neither family nor friends will stand in the way. Then there is neither an outward revolution nor an inward revolution; there is only revolution, change. But the moment you begin to limit it by saying, "I must not hurt my family, my friends, my priest, my capitalistic exploiter or state exploiter", then you really don't see the necessity for radical change, you merely seek a change of environment. In that there is merely lethargy which creates further false environment and continues the conflict. I think we give the rather false excuse that we must not hurt our families and our friends. You know when you want to do something vital, you do it, irrespective of your family and friends, don't you? Then you don't consider that you are going to hurt them. It is beyond your control; you feel so intensely, you think so completely that it carries you beyond the limitation of family circles, classified bondages. But you begin to consider family, friends, ideals, beliefs, traditions, the established order of things, only when you are still clinging to a particular safety, when there is not that inward richness, but merely the dependence on external stimulation for that inward richness. So if there is that full consciousness of suffering, brought about by conflict, then you are not held in the bondage of any particular orthodoxy, friends or family. You want to find out the cause of that suffering, you want to find out the significance of the environment which creates that conflict; then in that there is no personality, no limited thought of the "I". But it is only when you cling to that limited thought of the "I" that you have to consider how far you shall wander and how far you shall not wander. Surely truth, or that Godhead of understanding, is not to be found by clinging either to family or tradition or habit. It is to be found only when you are completely naked, stripped of your longings, hopes, securities; and in that direct simplicity there is the richness of life. Question: Can you explain why environment started being false instead of true? What is the origin of all this mess and trouble? Krishnamurti: Who do you think created environment? Some mysterious God? Please, just a minute; who created environment, the social structure, the economic, the religious structure? We. Each one has contributed individually, until it has become collective, and the individual who has helped to create the collective, now is lost in the collective, for it has become his mould, his environment. Through the desire for security, financial, moral and spiritual, you have created a capitalistic environment in which there is nationality, class distinction and exploitation. We have created it, you and I. This thing hasn't miraculously come into being. You will again create another capitalistic, acquisitive system of a different kind, with a different nuance, with a different colour, so long as you are seeking security. You may abolish this present pattern, but so long as there is possessiveness, you will create another capitalistic state, with a new phraseology, a new jargon. And the same thing applies to religions, with all their absurd ceremonies, exploitations, fears. Who has created them? You and I. Throughout the centuries we have created these things and yielded to them through fear. It is the individual who has created false environment everywhere. And he has become a slave, and that false condition has resulted in a false search for the security of that self-consciousness which you call the "I", and hence the constant battle between the "I" and the false environment. You want to know who has created this environment and all this appalling mess and trouble, because you want a redeemer to lift you out of that trouble and set you in a new heaven. Clinging to all your particular prejudices, hopes, fears and preferences, you have individually created this environment, so individually you must break it down and not wait for a system to come and sweep it away. A system will probably come and sweep it away and then you will merely become slaves to that system. The communistic system may come in, and then probably you will be using new words, but having the same reactions, only in a different manner, with a different tempo. That is why I said the other day that if environment is driving you to a certain action, it is no longer righteous. It is only when there is action born out of the understanding of that environment that there is righteousness. So individually we must become conscious. I assure you, you will then individually create something immense, not a society which is merely holding to an ideal and therefore decaying, but a society that is constantly in movement, not coming to a culmination and dying. Individuals establish a goal, strive after its attainment, and after attaining, collapse. They try all the time to reach some goal and stay at that stage which they have attained. As the individual so the state - the state is trying all the time to reach an ideal, a goal. Whereas to me the individual must be in constant movement, must ever be becoming, not seeking a culmination, not pursuing a goal. Then self-expression, which is society, will be ever in constant movement. Question: Do you consider that karma is the interaction between the false environment and the false "I"? Krishnamurti: You know karma is a Sanskrit word which means to act, to do, to work, and also it implies cause and effect. Now karma is the bondage, the reaction born out of the environment which the mind has not understood. As I tried to explain yesterday, if we do not understand a particular condition, naturally the mind is burdened with that condition, with that lack of understanding; and with that lack of understanding we function and act, and therefore create further burdens, greater limitations. So one has to find out what creates this lack of understanding, what prevents the individual from gathering the full significance of the environment, whether it be the past environment or the present. And to discover that significance, mind must really be free of prejudice. It is one of the most difficult things to be really free of a bias, of a temperament, of a twist; and to approach environment with a fresh openness, a directness, demands a great deal of perception. Most minds are biased through vanity, through the desire to impress others by being somebody, or through the desire to attain truth, or to escape from their environment, or expand their own consciousness - only they call this by a special spiritual name - or through their national prejudices. All these desires prevent the mind from perceiving directly the full worth of the environment; and as most minds are prejudiced, the first thing that one has to become conscious of is one's own limitations. And when you begin to be conscious, there is conflict in that consciousness. When you know that you are really brutally proud or conceited, in the very consciousness of conceit it begins to dissipate, because you perceive the absurdity of it; but if you begin merely to cover it up, it creates further diseases, further false reactions. So to live each moment now without the burden of the past or of the present, without that crippling memory created by the lack of understanding, mind must ever meet things anew. It is fatal to meet life with the burden of certainty, with the conceit of knowledge, because, after all, knowledge is merely a thing of the past. So when you come to that life with a freshness, then you will know what it is to live without conflict, without this continual straining effort. Then you wander far on the floods of life. OJAI 4TH PUBLIC TALK 19TH JUNE, 1934 I shall first answer some of the questions that have been put to me, and then give a brief talk. Question: Does intuition include past experience and something else, or only past experience? Krishnamurti: To me intuition is intelligence, and intelligence is not past experience, it is the understanding of past experience. I am going to talk presently about this whole idea of past experience, memory, intelligence and mind, but I shall now answer this particular point, whether intuition is born of the past. To me, the past is a burden, the past being but gaps in understanding; and if you really base your action on the past, on so-called intuition, it is bound to lead you astray. Whereas if there is spontaneous action in the ever-moving present, in that action is intelligence and that intelligence is intuition. Intelligence is not to be separated from intuition. Most people like to separate intuition from intelligence, because intuition gives them a certain security and hope. Many people say they act"on intuition", that is, they act without reason, without depth of thought. Many people accept a theory, an idea because they say their"intuition" tells them that it is true. There is no reason behind it, they merely accept it because that theory or idea gives them some solution, some comfort. It is really not reason that is functioning, but it is merely their own hopes, their own longings which are directing their minds. Whereas intelligence is detached from environment and therefore there is reason, thought, behind it. Question: How can I act freely and without self-repression when I know that my action must hurt those that I love? In such a case, what is the test of right action? Krishnamurti: I think I answered this question the other day, but probably the questioner wasn't here, so I will answer it again. The test of right action is in its spontaneity, but to act spontaneously is to be greatly intelligent. The majority of people have merely reactions which are perverted, twisted, and stifled because of the lack of intelligence. Where intelligence is functioning, there is spontaneous action. Now the questioner wants to know how he can act freely and without self-repression when he knows his action must hurt those he loves. You know, to love is to be free - both parties are free. Where there is the possibility of pain, where there is the possibility of suffering in love, it is not love, it is merely a subtle form of possession, of acquisitiveness. If you love, really love someone, there is no possibility of giving him pain when you do something that you think is right. It is only when you want that person to do what you desire or he wants you to do what he desires, that there is pain. That is, you like to be possessed; you feel safe, secure, comfortable; though you know that comfort is but transient, you take shelter in that comfort, in that transience. So each struggle for comfort, for encouragement, really but betrays the lack of inward richness; and therefore an action separate, apart from the other individual naturally creates disturbance, pain and suffering; and one individual has to suppress what he really feels in order to adjust himself to the other. In other words, this constant repression, brought about by so-called love, destroys the two individuals. In that love there is no freedom; it is merely a subtle bondage. When you feel very ardently that you must do something, you do it, sometimes cunningly and subtly, but you do it. There is always this urge to do, to act independently. Question: Am I right in believing that all conditions and environment become right to a really intelligent mind? Is it not a question of seeing the art in the pattern? Krishnamurti: To an intelligent mind environment yields its significance; therefore that intelligent mind is the master of environment, that mind is free of environment, is not conditioned by environment. What conditions the mind? The lack of understanding. Isn't it? Not environment, environment does not limit the mind; what limits the mind is the lack of understanding of a particular condition. Where there is intelligence, mind is not conditioned by any environment, because it is all the time conscious, aware and functioning, and therefore discerning, perceiving the full worth of the environment. Mind can only become conditioned by the environment when it is lethargic and lazy, trying to escape from the condition itself. Though mind may think in that condition, it is not functioning truly, it is only thinking within that limited circle of condition, which to me is not thinking at all. So what creates intelligence, what awakens intelligence is this perception of true values, and as the mind is crippled with so many values imposed on it by tradition, one has to be free of these past experiences, past burdens in order to understand the present environment. So the battle is between the past and the present. The struggle is between the background which we have cultivated through the centuries and the ever changing circumstances in the present. Now, a mind that is clouded by the past cannot understand these swift changes of environment. In other words, to understand the present, mind must be supremely free of the past; that is, it must have a spontaneous appreciation of values in the present. I am going to talk about that later on. "Is it not a question of seeing the art in the pattern?" Surely. That is, in the pattern of circumstances, in the pattern of environment, mind must see the subtle value, so hidden, so delicate; and to perceive that subtlety, that delicacy, the mind must be alive, pliable, acute, not burdened by values of yesterday. Question: There seems to be the idea that liberation is a goal, a culmination. What is the difference in this case between striving for liberation and striving for any other culmination? Surely the idea of an end, a goal, a culmination is wrong. How then ought we to regard liberation if not in this way? Krishnamurti: I am afraid the questioner has not been hearing what I have been talking about; probably he has read some old books of mine and then has put the question. Now, mind is seeking a culmination, a goal, an end, because mind wants to be certain, assured. Take away all the assurances and certainties from the mind, which are subtle forms of self-glorification or of the craving for self-continuance. Take all that away from the mind, strip it naked, and then you will see that the mind is battling again for security, for shelter, because from that security it can judge, it can function, it can act safely like an animal tethered to a post. As I said, liberation is not an end, it is not a goal; it is the understanding of right values, eternal values. Intelligence is ever becoming, it has no end, no finality. In the desire to attain there is a subtle craving for self-continuance, glorified self-continuance; and every struggle, every effort to attain liberation indicates an escape from the present. This summation of intelligence, which is liberation, is not to be understood through effort. After all, you make an effort when you want, when you desire to acquire something. But liberation is not to be acquired, truth is not to be acquired. So where there is a craving for liberation, for a culmination, for attainment, there must be an effort to sustain, to preserve, to perpetuate that consciousness which we call the "I". The very essence of that "I" is an effort to reach a culmination, because it lives in a series of movements of memory, moving towards an end. "But then, how ought we to regard liberation if not in this way?" Why regard it at all? Why do you want liberation? Is it because I have been talking about it for the last ten years? Or is it because you want to escape from conditions, or because it will give you greater excitement, greater stimulation, greater intellectual domination? Why do you want liberation? You say, "I am not happy, and if I can find liberation there will be happiness; because I am in misery, if I find this other, then misery will disappear." If you say so, then you are merely seeking substitution. Liberation is not to be "regarded" in any way. It is born. It comes into being only when the mind is not trying to escape from the condition in which it is caught, but rather to understand the significance of that condition which creates conflict. You see, as you don't understand the condition, the environment which creates conflict, you seek an idea, a culmination, an end, a goal, saying to yourself, "If I understand that, this will disappear", or, "If I have that, I can impose that on this condition." So it is but a subtle form of continual escape from the present. All ideals, beliefs, goals and culminations are but ways out of the present. Whereas if you really come to think of it, the more you are pursuing an end, a goal, an aim, a belief, an ideal, the more you are burdening the future, because you are escaping from the present and therefore creating more and more limitation, conflict, sorrow. Question: Some people say your idea is that we should become liberated now, while we have the opportunity, and that we can become masters later on, at some other time. But if we are to become masters at all, why is it not good for us to begin to set our feet on that way now? Krishnamurti: Is there the opportunity now for you to be liberated? What do you mean by opportunity? How could you be liberated now? By some miraculous process? And later on become a master? Sir, what is a master, and what is liberation? What is masterhood? Surely if it is not liberation it cannot be masterhood? If liberation is not the summation of intelligence in the present, surely that intelligence is not going to be acquired in some far distant future. So you want liberation now and masterhood afterwards? I wonder why you want liberation now. I am afraid liberation has no meaning when you want it. And this idea of becoming a master - the questioner must think that life is like passing an examination, becoming something - I am afraid this becoming a master, becoming liberated has no meaning to you. Don't you see, when you really don't want to become anything, but live completely in one day, in the richness of a single day, you will know what masterhood or liberation is. This wanting is continually creating a future which can never be fulfilled, therefore you are living incompletely in the present. During the last three days I have been talking about mind and intelligence. Now to me there is no division between mind and intelligence. Mind stripped of all its memories and hindrances, functioning spontaneously, fully, being aware, creates understanding, and that is intelligence, that is ecstasy; that to me is immortality, timelessness. Intelligence is timelessness, and intelligence is mind itself. This intelligence is the real, is mind itself, it is not to be divided from mind; this intelligence is ecstasy, it is ever becoming, ever in movement. Now memory is but the impediment to that intelligence; memory is independent of that intelligence; memory is the perpetuation of that "I" consciousness which is the result of environment, of that environment the full significance of which the mind has not seen. So memory stupefies, thwarts the ever becoming intelligence, the ever moving, timeless intelligence. Mind is intelligence, but memory has imposed itself on mind. That is, memory being that I consciousness, identifies itself with the mind, and the "I" consciousness comes as it were between intelligence and the mind, thus dividing, stupefying, thwarting, perverting it. So memory, identifying itself with mind, tries to become intelligence, which to me is wrong - if I may use the word"wrong" here - because mind itself is intelligence, and it is memory that perverts the mind and so clouds intelligence. And hence mind seems ever to seek that timeless intelligence, which is the mind itself. So what is memory? Isn't memory incident, experience, fear, hope, longing, belief, idea, prejudice and tradition, action, deed, with their subtle and complex reactions? The moment there is hope, longing, fear, prejudice, temperament, it conditions the mind, and that conditioning creates memory, which obscures the clarity of mind which is intelligence. This memory rolls through time, coagulating and hardening itself into the self-consciousness of the "I". When you talk about the "I", it is that. It is the crystallizing, the hardening of the memory of your reactions, the reactions of experience, incidents, beliefs, ideals, and after becoming a solidified mass, that memory becomes identified and confused with the mind. If you think it over you will see this. Self-consciousness, or that consciousness of the particular, the "I", is nothing else but the bundle of memory, and time is nothing else but the field in which it can function and play. So this hardened mass of reactions cannot be resolved, cannot resolve itself backwards in time through analysis, the analysis of the past, because this very looking back, this analysis of the past is one of the tricks of memory itself. You know, taking an unhealthy pleasure in reasserting and reconditioning the past in the present is the constant activity, the metier of memory, isn't it? Please, this is not cleverness, this is not a philosophical concept. Just think it out for a minute, and you will see that this is true. There is this mass of reactions born out of condition, environment, prejudice, various longings and all these, therefore there is the thing which you call the "I". Then there is born this idea that you must dissolve the "I", because of what I have been saying. Or you yourself feel the stupidity of it, so you begin to unwind; memory begins to unwind itself backward into the past, which is the process of self-analysis. And if you really come to think of it, memory itself is taking an unhealthy pleasure in reconditioning the past in the present. And likewise, the future of memory is a greater hardening through further craving, further accumulation of experiences and reactions. In other words, time is memory or self-consciousness. You cannot resolve or dissolve self-consciousness by going into the past, The past is but the accumulation of memory, and delving into the past is not going to resolve that consciousness in the present; nor going into the future - which is but further accumulation, further craving, further reaction and hardening, which we call beliefs, ideals, hopes - the future which is still involved in time. As long as this process of memory as past and future continues, intelligence can never act with completeness or fullness in the present. Intuition as commonly understood is based on the past, the past accumulation of memory, past accumulation of experiences, which is but a warning to act carefully - or freely - in the present. As I said, this timelessness is not a philosophical concept to me, it is a reality, and you will see that it is a reality if you experiment with what I am saying. That is, you will see that it is a reality if your mind is not clogged by the past accumulation which you call memory, which functions and directs you in the present, preventing you from being fully intelligent and therefore living completely in the present. So liberation or truth or God is the release of the mind, which is itself intelligence, from the burden of memory. I have explained to you what I mean by memory, not the memory of facts or falsehoods, but the burden placed on the mind through self-consciousness which is memory, and that memory is the reaction to the environment which has not been understood. Immortality is not the perpetuation of that "I" consciousness, which is but the result of a false environment, but immortality is the freedom, the release of the mind from the burden of memory. OJAI 5TH PUBLIC TALK 22ND JUNE, 1934 This morning I want to talk about fear, which creates, which necessitates compulsion, influence. Now, we have divided mind into thought, reason, intellect; but, as I explained in my last talk, to me mind is intelligence, selfcreative but clouded over by memory; mind, which is intelligence, is clouded over by memory and is confused with that "I" consciousness, the result of environment. So mind becomes enslaved by the environment which it itself has created through craving, and therefore there is fear continually. Mind has created environment, and as long as we do not understand that environment there must be fear. We do not give our complete thought to environment and we are not fully conscious of it, so mind becomes enslaved to that environment and thereby there is fear; and compulsion is the instrument of fear. So naturally the lack of understanding of environment is brought about by that lack of intelligence, and because we do not understand environment, fear is thereby created, and fear necessitates influence, either outer or inner. And how is this continual compulsion created, which has become the instrument, this penetrating instrument of fear? Memory clouds the mind, and this, I have said over and over again, is the result of the lack of understanding of the environment which creates conflict, and memory becomes self-consciousness. This mind, clouded over, limited and confined by memory, seeks perpetuation of the result of environment which is the "I", so in perpetuating the "I", mind seeks the adjustment, alteration or modification of environment, its growth and expansion. You know, mind is continually seeking adjustment to the environment; but adjustment to environment does not bring about understanding, nor can we see the significance of that environment by merely modifying the state of mind or trying to change or expand that environment. Because mind is continually seeking its own protection, it gets clouded over by memory which has become confused, identified with self-consciousness - that self-consciousness which desires to perpetuate itself; therefore it tries to alter, adjust, modify the environment, or in other words, mind seeks to make the "I", as it thinks, immortal, universal and cosmic. Isn't it so? So mind, which seeks immortality, really desires the continuance of this "I" consciousness, the perpetuation of environment; that is, so long as mind clings to the idea of "I" consciousness, which is but the lack of understanding of environment and therefore the cause of conflict, so long will it seek, in that limitation, its own perpetuation, and this perpetuation we call immortality, or that cosmic consciousness in which the particular still remains. So long as mind, which is intelligence, is held in the bondage of memory, which is the "I" consciousness, there is the search of the false for the false. This "I", as I explained, is the false reaction to environment; there is a false cause and it is ever seeking a false solution, a false effect, a false result. So when the mind clouded by memory is seeking to perpetuate itself as self-consciousness, it is seeking false immortality, a false cosmic expansion, or whatever you like to call it. In this process of the perpetuation of the "I", that self-preserving memory, in the perpetuation of that "I" is born fear - not superficial fear, but the fundamental fear with which I shall deal presently. Remove that fear, which has as its outward expression nationality, growth, achievement, success - remove that fundamental fear, the anxiety for the perpetuation of that "I", and all fears cease. So fear exists as long as there is this desire for the perpetuation of that thing which is false; this "I" is false, therefore you must have a false reaction, which is fear itself. And where there is fear there must be discipline, compulsion, influence, domination, the search for power which the mind glorifies as virtue and as divine. If you really think of it you will see that where there is intelligence there cannot be the hunt for power. Now all life is moulded by fear and conflict, and hence by compulsion, by the enforcing of decrees and fetters which some consider virtuous and worthy, and others baneful and evil. Isn't that so? These are the restraints you have established in your search for perpetuation, free from fear; in that search you have created disciplines, codes and authorities, and your life is moulded, controlled and shaped by compulsion of various forms and degrees. Some call that compulsion virtuous, others evil. We have first of all, outward compulsion which is the restraint of environment upon the individual. The ordinary person whom you call unevolved, unspiritual, is controlled by environment, outward environment, that is, by religion, codes of conduct, moral standards, political and social authority; he is a slave to all these because all these are rooted in the economic needs of the individual. Aren't they? Remove entirely the economic needs upon which the individual depends, then codes of conduct, moral standards, political, economic and social values disappear. So in these restraints of the outer environment which create conflict between the individual and the outer environment, in which the individual is crushed, warped, twisted, he becomes increasingly unintelligent. The individual who is merely conditioned all the time by outward environment, shaped by certain rules, laws, reactions, edicts, moral standards - the more and more you crush him, the less and less intelligent he becomes. But intelligence is the understanding of environment, seeing its subtle significance freed from compulsion. These restraints imposed on the individual, which he calls outer environment, have as their exponents the quacks and the exploiters in religion, in popular morality, and in the political and economic life of man. The exploiter is the individual who uses you consciously or unconsciously, and you yield to him consciously or unconsciously, because you do not understand; you become the exploited economically, socially, politically, religiously, and he becomes your exploiter. So in that way life becomes a school, a frame, a steel frame, in which the individual is beaten into shape, in which he becomes merely a machine - the individual becomes merely a cog in a machine, thoughtless and rigidly limited. Life becomes a continual struggle, a battle, and therefore he has established this false idea that life is a series of lessons to be learned, to be acquired, so that he may be forewarned, so that he may meet life anew tomorrow, but with his preconceived ideas. Life becomes merely a school, not a thing to be lived, to be enjoyed, to be lived ecstatically, fully, without fear. The outer environment forces the individual, crushes him into this steel frame of standards, of morality, of religious ideas, of moral edicts, and as the individual is crushed from the outside, he seeks and escapes into a world which he calls the inner. Naturally, when the mind is being twisted, shaped, perverted by outer environment, and there is constant conflict outside, constant battle, constant false adjustments, the mind hopes for tranquillity, for happiness, for a different world; so the individual builds up a romantic haven of escape in which he seeks compensation for the loss and suffering in the outer world. Please, as I said, you are here to find out, to criticize, not to oppose. You can oppose after you have thought over very carefully what I have been saying. You can put up barriers if you wish to, but first find out fully what it is that I want to convey; and to do that you must be super-critical, aware, intelligent. As I have said, being crushed by outward circumstances which create suffering, and in an effort to escape from those outward circumstances, the individual creates an inner world, begins to develop an inner law and creates his own individual restraints, which he calls self-discipline, or co-operation with that which he has learned to call his high self. Most people - the so-called spiritual people - have rejected the outer force of environment and its influence, but have developed an inner law, an inner standard, an inner discipline, which they call bringing the high self down to the low; that is in other words, merely substitution. So there is self-discipline. Then there is that which is called the inner voice, whose power and control is far greater even than the outward environment. But what is after all the difference between the one and the other, the outer and the inner? They are both controlling, perverting the mind which is intelligence, through this desire for self-perpetuation. And also you have what you call intuition, which is merely the unfettered fulfillment of your own secret hopes and desires. So you have filled the inner world, what you call the inner world, with all these - self-discipline, the inner voice, intuition. All, if you come to think of it, are subtle forms of that same conflict, carried into a different world in which there is no understanding, but merely a moulding, an adjusting to a more subtle, what you call a more spiritual, environment. You know in the outer world some have sought and found social distinctions, and likewise the so-called spiritual people merely seek in this inner world, and generally find, their spiritual peers and superiors; and again as there is conflict in the outer between individuals, so there is created in this inner world a spiritual conflict between ideals, attainment, and their own cravings. You see then what has been created. In the outer world there is no expression for the mind clouded by memory, for that "I" consciousness there is no expression, because the environment is too strong, too powerful, too crushing; there you fit into the mould, or if you don't, you are broken. So you develop an inner or more subtle form of environment, in which exactly the same process takes place. That environment which you have created is an escape from the outer, and there again you have standards, moral laws, intuitions, the high self, inner voice, and to them you are constantly adjusting. This is a fact. In essence these restraints which we call the outer and inner, are born of craving, and so there is fear; and from fear there comes restraint, compulsion, influence, and the desire for power, which are but the outward expressions of fear. Where there is fear there cannot be intelligence, and as long as we have not understood that, there must be this division in life as the outer and the inner, and therefore our actions must always be influenced, either compelled by the outer, and therefore false, or compelled by the inner, which is equally false, because in the inner also you are trying merely to adjust to certain other standards. Fear is created when the false seeks a perpetuation of itself in the false environment. And so what happens to our action, which is our daily conduct, to our thought and emotion, what is happening to these? Mind and heart are shaping themselves to environment, external environment, but when they find that they cannot, for the compulsion becomes too strong, they then turn to an inner condition in which the mind and heart seek perfect ease and satisfaction. Or they have thoroughly satisfied themselves through economic, social, religious or political achievements, and then they turn to the inner, there also to succeed, to be successful, to attain; and to attain, they must have always a culmination, a goal, which but becomes the condition to which the mind and heart are continually adjusting themselves. So in the meantime what happens to our feelings, to our emotions, to our thoughts, to our love, to our reason? What happens when you are merely adjusting, when you are merely modifying, altering? What happens to anything - what happens to a house whose walls you are merely decorating though its foundations are rotten? So likewise our thoughts and our emotions are merely taking shape, altering themselves, modifying themselves after a pattern, either the external or the inward pattern; or according to an external compulsion or an inward direction. So greatly are our actions being limited through influence, that all reason merely becomes the imitation of a pattern, an adjustment to a condition, and love becomes but another form of fear. Our whole life - after all our life is our thoughts and our emotions, our joys and our pains - our whole life remains incomplete, our whole process of thought or the expression of that life is merely an adjustment, a modification, never a fullness, a completeness. And hence there arises problem after problem, the adjustment to environment which must be constantly changing, and conformity to patterns, which also must vary. So you go on with this battle, and this battle you call evolution, the growth of self, the expansion of that consciousness which is but memory. You have invented words to pacify your mind, but continue with this struggle. Now, if you really ponder over this - and I think you have an opportunity during these days, those of you who stay quietly here -if you recognize this and without the desire to alter, without the desire to modify, become aware of this outward environment, of these circumstances, conditions, and the inner world in which there are the same conditions, the same environments, which you have called merely by more subtle, more lovely names; if you really become aware of this, then you will begin to understand the true significance of the outer and the inner; there is an immediate perception, the release of life, then mind becomes intelligence and it can function naturally, creatively, without this constant battle. Then mind - intelligence - recognizes the obstacles, and because of its understanding of these obstacles, it penetrates; there is no adjustment, there is no modification, there is only understanding. Hence intelligence does not depend on the outer or the inner, and in that awareness there is no desire, no craving, but the perception of what is true. To perceive what is true, there cannot be craving. You know, when there is a craving, your mind is already clouded, is already perverted, because mind identifies itself with one and rejects the other - where there is craving there is no understanding; but when mind does not identify itself with the "I" but becomes aware of both the outer and the inner, of the subtle divisions, of the various emotions, of the delicate nuances of mind dividing itself as memory and intelligence - then in that awareness you will see the full significance of the environment which we have created throughout the centuries, that environment which we call the outer, and that which we call the inner, both of which are continually changing, adjusting themselves to each other. All that you are now concerned with is modification, alteration, adjustment, and therefore there must be fear. Fear has its instruments in compulsion, and compulsion exists only when there is no understanding, when intelligence is not functioning normally. OJAI 6TH PUBLIC TALK 23RD JUNE, 1934 I will give a brief talk first and then answer some of the questions that have been put to me. I dealt yesterday with the whole idea of fear and how it necessitates compulsion; this morning I am going to deal again, briefly, with the way incompleteness creates compulsion. Where there is incompleteness there is the desire for guidance, for authority, for that moulding influence which has become tradition, tradition which is no longer thought but which acts merely as a guide. Whereas to me tradition should be a means of awakening thought, not dampening, killing thought. Where there is insufficiency, there must be compulsion; and out of this compulsion is born a particular mode of life or a method of action, and therefore further conflict, further struggle, further pain. That is, where one, consciously or unconsciously, feels the poignancy of insufficiency, there must be conflict, there must be misery and a sense of shallowness and emptiness and of the utter futility of life. One may not be conscious of this insufficiency, or one may be conscious of it. So where there is insufficiency, what is the process of the mind? What happens when one becomes conscious of this emptiness, this shallowness within one's self? What do we do when we feel, when we become conscious of this emptiness, of this void in ourselves? We desire to fill that emptiness, and we look for a pattern, for a mould created by another; we imitate, follow that pattern, we discipline ourselves in that mould which another has established, hoping that we may thereby fill this emptiness, this shallowness of which we have become more or less conscious. That pattern, that mould begins to influence our lives, compelling us to adjust ourselves, our minds, hearts and actions to that particular pattern. So we begin to live, not within our own experience, within our own understanding, but within the expression, the ideas, the limitations of another's experience. That is what is happening. If you really think about it for a while, you will see that we begin to reject our own particular experiences and the understanding of these experiences, because we feel that insufficiency, and we turn to imitate, to copy and to live through another's experience. And when we look to another's experience and do not live by our own understanding, there naturally comes more and more insufficiency, more and more conflict; but also if we say to ourselves that we must live by our own experience, our own understanding, we again turn that into an ideal, into another pattern, and after that pattern we shape our lives. Suppose that you say to yourself, "I am not going to depend on another's experience, but will live by my own", then surely you have already created a mould for your adjustment. When you say, "I shall live by my own experience", you are already placing a limitation on your thought, for this idea that you must live by your own understanding creates complacency, which is only an ineffectual adjustment leading to stagnation. You know most people say that they will reject the outward pattern which they are constantly imitating, and will try to live within their own understanding. They say, "We will do only what we understand; and thereby they create another pattern which they weave into their lives. And then what happens? They become more and more satisfied; hence they slowly decay. We look, for the dissipation of this insufficiency, to mere action, because where there is insufficiency and emptiness our one desire is to fill that emptiness and so we look to action merely to fill that. Again, what do we do when we look to an action to complete that insufficiency? We are merely trying through accumulation to fill that void and so we are not trying to find out what the cause of insufficiency is. Please, when you feel that you are insufficient, what happens? You try to fill that insufficiency, you try to become rich, and you say that to become rich, to become complete, you must look to another, so you begin to adjust your own thoughts and feelings to the ideas and experiences of another. But this does not give you richness, this does not bring about completeness or fulfillment. And then you say to yourself, "I will try to live by my own understanding", which has its dangers, as I pointed out, leading to complacency; and if you merely look to action, saying, "I shall go out into the world and act so as to become rich, complete", you are again, by substitution, trying to fill that void. Whereas if you become aware through action, then you will find out the cause of insufficiency. That is, instead of seeking completeness, you create action, through intelligence. Now what is action? It is after all what we think and feel. And as long as you are not aware of your own thinking, of your own feeling, there must be insufficiency, and no amount of outward activity is going to replenish you. That is, only intelligence can dispel this emptiness, and not accumulation; and intelligence is, as I have pointed out, perfect harmony of mind and heart. So if you understand the functioning of your own thought and your own emotion, and thereby in that action become aware, then there is intelligence, which dispels insufficiency and which does not try to replace it by sufficiency, completeness, because intelligence itself is completeness. So when there is completeness there cannot be compulsion. But disharmony, incompleteness, creates separation between mind and heart. Isn't that so? What is disharmony? It is the consciousness of the division between what you think and what you feel, and thereby in that distinction there is conflict. Whereas to me, to think and to feel is the same. So having conflict and disharmony, and having divided the mind from feelings, we then further separate and divide mind and heart from intelligence - intelligence which to me is truth, beauty and love. That is, conflict, which as I have explained is the struggle between the result of environment, which is the "I" consciousness, and the environment itself - that conflict between the result of environment and environment itself, brings about struggle which produces disharmony. We divide mind from emotion, and having divided mind from emotion, we proceed still further to divide intelligence from mind and heart; whereas to me they are one. Intelligence is thought and emotion in perfect harmony, and therefore intelligence is beauty itself, inherently, not a thing to be sought after. When there is great conflict, great disharmony, when there is the full consciousness of emptiness, then there arises the search for beauty, truth and love to influence and to direct our lives. That is, being aware of that emptiness, you externalize beauty in nature, in art, in music, and begin to surround yourself artificially with these expressions in order that they may become in your life, influences for refinement, culture and harmony. Isn't that the process the mind goes through? As I said, through conflict we have divided intelligence from mind and emotion, and then there comes the consciousness of that insufficiency, that void. Then we begin to seek happiness, completeness, in art, in music, in nature, in religious ideals, and these begin to influence our lives, to control, to dominate and to guide us, and we think that in this way we shall arrive at that completeness; we hope through the accumulation of positive influences and experiences that we can overcome disharmony and conflict. This is merely going further and further away from that which is intelligence, and therefore from truth, beauty and love, which is completeness itself. That is, in our feeling of insufficiency, incompleteness, we begin to accumulate, hoping to become complete through this gathering of experiences and the enjoyment of other people's ideas and patterns. Whereas to me incompleteness disappears when there is intelligence, and intelligence itself is beauty and truth. We cannot see this so long as mind and heart are divided, and they divide themselves through conflict. We separate intelligence itself from mind and heart, and this process goes on continually, this process of separation and the search for fulfillment. But fulfillment lies in intelligence itself, and to awaken that intelligence is to find out what creates disharmony and therefore division. What creates disharmony in our lives? The lack of understanding of environment, of our surroundings. When you begin to question and understand environment, its full worth and significance, not try to imitate or follow it or adjust yourselves to it or escape from it, then there is born intelligence, which is beauty, truth and love. Question: In your opinion, would it be better for me to become a deaconess of the Protestant Episcopal Church, or could I be of greater service to the world by remaining as I am? Krishnamurti: I suppose the questioner wants to know how to help the world, not whether she should join some church or other, which is of little importance. How is one to help the world? Surely by not creating more sectarian divisions, by not creating more nationalism. Nationalism is, after all, the growth, the fulfillment of economic exploitation, and religions are the crystallized outcome of certain sets of beliefs and creeds. If one wants really to help the world, it cannot be, from my point of view, through any organized religion, whether it be Christianity with its innumerable sects, or Hinduism with its innumerable sects, or any other religion. These are in reality pernicious divisions of mind, of humanity. And yet we think that if all the world became Christian, then there would be the brotherhood of religions, and the unity of life. To me religion is the false result of a false cause, the cause being conflict, and religion merely a means of escape from that conflict. So the more you develop and strengthen the sectarian divisions of religion, the less true brotherhood there will be; and the more you strengthen nationalism, the less will be the unity of man. Question: Is greed the product of environment or of human nature? Krishnamurti: What is human nature? Isn't it itself the product of environment? Why divide them? Is there such a thing as human nature apart from environment? Some believe that the distinction between human nature and environment is artificial, for by altering the environment they say that human nature can be changed and moulded. After all, greed is merely the result of false environment, therefore of human nature itself. When the individual tries to understand his environment, the conditions in which he lives, then because there is intelligence there can be no greed. Then greed would not be a vice or a sin to be overcome. You do not understand and alter the environment which produces greed, but you fear the result and call it sin. But the mere search for perfect environment, therefore perfect human nature, cannot produce intelligence; but where there is intelligence there is the understanding of the environment, therefore freedom from its reactions. Now environment or society forces you, urges you to be self-protective. But if you begin to understand the environment which produces greed, then in seeing the significance of environment, greed vanishes altogether, and you do not then replace it by its opposite. Question: I understand you to say that conflict ceases when it is faced without the desire to escape. I love someone who doesn't love me, and I am lonely and miserable. I honestly think I am facing my conflict, and I am not seeking an escape; but I am still lonely and miserable. So what you say has not worked. Can you tell me why? Krishnamurti: Perhaps you are merely trying to use my words as a means of escape; perhaps you are using my words, my ideas to fill your own emptiness. Now you say you have faced the conflict. I wonder if you really have. You say you love someone; but you really want to possess that person, therefore there is conflict. And why do you want to possess? Because you have the idea that through possession you will find happiness, completeness. So the questioner has not really faced the problem, he desires to possess the other and hence is limiting his own affection. Because after all, when you really love someone, in that love there is freedom from possession. We have occasionally, rarely, that sense of intense affection in which there is no possessiveness, acquisitiveness. And this leads us back to what I just now said in my talk, that possessiveness exists so long as there is insufficiency, the lack of inward richness; and that inward richness exists not in accumulations but in intelligence, in the awareness of action in conflict, caused by the lack of understanding of environment. Question: Does not the very fact that people come to hear you make of you a teacher? And yet you say we should not have teachers. Should we then stay away? Krishnamurti: You should stay away if you make of me a teacher, if you make of me your guide. If I am creating in your lives an influence, if by my words and actions I am compelling you towards a certain action, then you should stay away, then what I say is to you worthless, it has no meaning, then you will make of me a teacher who exploits you. And in that there can be no understanding, no richness, no ecstasy, nothing but sorrow and emptiness. But if you come to listen so that you can find out how to awaken intelligence, then I am not your exploiter, then I am merely an incident, an experience which enables you to penetrate the environment that is holding you in bondage. But most people want teachers, most people want guides, masters, either here on the physical plane or on some other plane; they want to be guided, to be compelled, to be influenced to do right, to act rightly, because in themselves they have no understanding. They do not understand environment, they do not understand the various subtleties of their own thoughts and emotions; therefore they feel that if they follow another they will come to fulfillment; which, as I explained yesterday, is another form of compulsion. As there is compulsion here forcing you into a certain groove because there is no intelligence, so you seek teachers in order to be influenced, to be guided, to be moulded, and again in that there is no intelligence. Intelligence is truth, completeness, beauty and love itself. And no teacher, no discipline can lead you to it; because they are all forms of compulsion, modifications of environment. It is only when you fully understand the significance of environment and see its value, only then is there intelligence. Question: How can one determine what shall fill the vacuum created in the process of eliminating self-consciousness? Krishnamurti: Sir, why do you want to eliminate self-consciousness? Why do you think it is important to dissolve self-consciousness, or that "I", that egotistic limitation? Why do you think it is necessary? If you say it is necessary because you seek happiness, then that self-consciousness, that limited particularity of the ego will still continue. But if you say, "I see conflict, my mind and heart are caught up in disharmony, but I see the cause of this disharmony, which is the lack of understanding of environment which has created that self-consciousness", then there is no void to be filled. I am afraid the questioner has not understood this at all. Please let me explain this once again. What we call self-consciousness, or that "I" consciousness, is nothing else but the result of environment; that is, when the mind and heart do not understand environment, the surroundings, the conditions in which an individual finds himself, then through the lack of that understanding, conflict is created. Mind is clouded by this conflict, and this continual conflict creates memory and becomes identified with mind and thus this idea of "I", of ego consciousness, becomes hardened. Hence further conflict, suffering and pain. But the understanding of the circumstances, the surroundings, the conditions which create this conflict does not come through substitution but through intelligence, which is mind and love; that intelligence which is ever self-creating, ever in movement. And that to me is eternity, a timeless reality. Whereas, you are seeking the perpetuation of that consciousness which is the result of environment, which you call the "I", and that "I" can disappear only when there is the understanding of environment. Intelligence then functions normally, without restraint or compulsion. Then there is not this frightful struggle, this search for beauty, search for truth, and the constant battle of possessive love, because intelligence itself is complete. OJAI 7TH PUBLIC TALK 24TH JUNE, 1934 Let us for a moment, imaginatively at least, look over the world from a point of view which will reveal the inner workings and the outer workings of man, his creations and his battles; and if you can do that imaginatively for a moment, what do you see spread before you? You see man imprisoned by innumerable walls, walls of religion, of social, political and national limitations, walls created by his own ambitions, aspirations, fears, hopes, security, prejudices, hate and love. Within these barriers and prisons he is held, limited by the coloured maps of national boundaries, racial antagonisms, class struggles and cultural group distinctions. You see man throughout the world imprisoned, enclosed by the limitations, the walls of his own creation. Through these walls and through these enclosures he is trying to express what he feels and what he thinks, and within these he functions with joy and with sorrow. So you see man throughout the world as a prisoner, imprisoned within the walls of his own creation, within the walls of his own making; and through these enclosures, through these walls of environment, through the limitation of his ideas, ambitions and aspirations - through these he is trying to function, sometimes successfully, and sometimes with hideous struggle. And the man who succeeds in making himself comfortable in the prison we call successful, whereas the man who succumbs in the prison we call a failure. But both success and failure are within the walls of the prison. Now when you look at the world in that way you see man in that limitation, in that enclosure. And what is that man, what is that individuality? What is his environment, and what are his actions? That is what I want to talk about this morning. First of all, what is individuality? When you say, "I am an individual", what do you mean by it? I think you mean by that -without giving subtle philosophical or metaphysical explanations -you mean by individuality, the consciousness of separation, and the expression of that separate consciousness which you call self-expression. That is, individuality is that full recognition, full consciousness of separate thought, separate emotion, limited and held in the bondage of environment; and the expression of that limited thought and of that limited feeling, which are the same essentially, he calls his self-expression. This self-expression of the individual, which is but the consciousness of separation. is either forced and compelled by circumstances to take some particular channel of action; or, in spite of circumstances, expresses intelligence, which is creative living. That is, as an individual he has become conscious of his separative action, is compelled, forced, circumscribed, urged to function along some particular channel which he does not choose at all. Most people are forced into work, activities, vocations for which they are not at all suited. They spend the rest of their existence in battling against these circumstances and so waste all their energies in struggle, pain, suffering, and occasionally in pleasure. Or a man pierces through the limitations of environment because he understands its full significance, and lives intelligently, creatively, whether in the world of art, music, science, or of professions, without the sense of separation through expression. This expression of creative intelligence is very rare, and though it has the appearance of individuality or separativeness, to me it is not individuality but intelligence. Where there is true intelligence functioning, there is not the consciousness of individuality; but where there is frustration, effort and struggle against circumstances, there is the consciousness of individuality which is not intelligence. The man who is functioning intelligently and who is therefore free of circumstances we call creative, divine. To a man who is in prison, the liberated man, the intelligent man is as a god. So we need not discuss that man who is free, because we are not concerned with him; the majority of people are not concerned with him, and I am not going to deal with that freedom because liberation, divinity, can be understood, realized, only when you have left the prison. You cannot understand divinity in prison. So it is utterly futile, merely metaphysical or philosophical, to discuss what is liberation, what is divinity, what is God; because what you can now discern as God must be limited, since your mind is circumscribed, held in bondage; therefore I will not describe that. As long as this spontaneous, intelligent expression which we call life, which is that exquisite reality, is thwarted, there is merely the accentuation of the consciousness of the individual. The more you battle against environment without understanding, the more you struggle against circumstances, the more you become conscious, in that effort, of your limitation. Please, do not suppose the opposite of that limited consciousness to be complete annihilation, or mechanical functioning, or group activity. I am showing you the cause of individuality, how individuality arises; but with the dissipation, the disappearance of that limited consciousness, it does not follow that you become mechanical, or that there will be a collective functioning through the focus of a single dominating individual. Because intelligence is free of the particular which is the individual, as well as of the collective (for after all, the collective is but the multiplicity of individuals), and there is the disappearance of this limited consciousness which we call individuality, it does not follow that you become mechanical, collective; but rather that there is intelligence, and that intelligence is co-operative, not destructive, not individualistic or collective. Every man then is thwarted, and conscious of his own separateness he functions and acts in and through environment, battling against it and making colossal efforts to adjust, modify and alter circumstances. Isn't this what you are all doing? You are thwarted in your love, in your vocation, in your actions; and in the struggle against your limitations you become acute in your consciousness, and you begin to modify and alter circumstances, environment. Then what happens? You merely increase the walls of resistance, for modification or alteration is but the result of the lack of understanding; when you understand you don't seek to modify, to alter, to reform. So in modification, adjustment, alteration, in your efforts to break through the limitations, the walls, there is what you call activity. For the vast majority of people action is nothing but the modification of environment, and this action leads to the enlarging of the walls of prison, or the limitation of environment. If you don't understand something and merely try to modify it, your action must increase the barriers, must build up new sets of barriers; your efforts merely enlarge the prison. And these barriers, these walls man calls environment; and the functioning within them he calls action. I wonder if I have explained this. Without understanding the significance of environment, man struggles to alter, modify that environment, and thereby but heightens the walls of his prison, though he thinks he has removed them. These walls are environment, ever changing, and action to him is but the modification of this environment. So there is never a release, never a completeness, a richness in this action; there is but increasing fear, and never fulfillment. The multiplication of problems is the whole process of the existence of the individual, of yourself. You think you have solved one problem, and in its place there grows another, and so you continue to the very end of life, and when there is no problem at all, then you call that death. When there is no possibility of a further problem, naturally that to you is annihilation and death. And again is not your affection, love, born of fear and hedged about by jealousy, suspicion, and oppressed by possessiveness and sorrow? For this love is born out of the desire to possess, born of insufficiency, born of incompleteness. And thought is merely the reaction to limitation, to environment. Isn't it? When you say, "I think", "I feel", you are reacting to environment and not trying to pierce through that environment. But intelligence is the process of piercing through environment, not the reaction to environment. That is, when you say, "I think", you mean you have certain sets of ideas, beliefs, dogmas and creeds. And as an animal that is tethered to a post wanders within the length of its rope, so you wander within the limitation of these beliefs, dogmas and creeds. Surely that is not thinking. That is merely having reactions to bondage, to beliefs, dogmas and creeds; these reactions produce an effort, a conflict, and that conflict you call thinking, but it is merely like walking round and round within the walls of a prison. Your action is but reaction to this prison, producing further fear, further limitation; isn't that so? When we talk about action what do we mean? Movement within the limitation of environment, that movement confined to a fixed idea, a fixed prejudice, a fixed belief, dogma or creed; such movement within that limitation you call action. So the more you act, the less intelligent and free you become, because you have always this fixed point of safety, of security, this dogma or creed; and as you begin to act from that, naturally you are only creating further limitations, further walls of restriction. Then your action is not creative, your action is not born of intelligence, which is completeness itself. Therefore there is no joy, no ecstasy, no fullness of life, no love. So, not having that creative intelligence which is the comprehension of environment, man begins to play within the walls of his prison, he begins to embellish and decorate the prison and he makes himself comfortable within its walls; and he thinks and hopes to bring beauty into that ugly prison. Therefore he begins to reform, he searches out societies which talk about brotherhood, but which are also within the prison; he tries to become free while remaining possessive. So this beautifying, reforming, playing, seeking comfort within the walls of that prison, he calls living, functioning, acting. And as there is no intelligence, no creative ecstasy of living, he must ever be crushed down by the false structure which he has raised. Thus he begins to resign himself to the prison because he sees he cannot alter, he cannot break down these limitations; because he has not the desire or the intensity of suffering which demands the breaking down of that prison, he resigns himself to it and takes flight into romanticism or escapes through the glorification of his own self. Now this glorification of his own self he calls religion, spiritualism, occultism, either scientific or spurious. Isn't that what each one does? Please, is this not applicable to you? Don't say this applies to the individual whom we are observing from the top of the world. This individual is yourself, your neighbour, every one of you. So as I talk of these things, don't look at your neighbour or think of some distant friend, which is but an immediate escape. Rather, as I am talking, let the mirror of intelligence be created in front of you, so that you can see the picture of yourself, without a twist, without bias, and with clarity. Out of that clarity will be born action, not lethargic thought or the mere modification of environment. Again, if you are not imaginative or romantic, if you do not seek what is called God or religion, you create about you a whirlpool of bustle, you become inventors of schemes, you begin to reform your environment, to alter your prison walls, and you increase further the activities in that prison. You begin, if you are not imaginative or romantic or mystic, to create greater and greater activity within that prison, calling yourselves reformers, and so create greater and greater limitation, restriction and chaos in the prison. Hence you have unnatural divisions called religions and nationalities, caused or created by exploiters and perpetuated for their own profession and benefit. Now what is religion? What is the function of religion as it is? Don't imagine some marvellous, true and perfect religion; we are discussing what exists, not what should exist. What is this religion to which man has become a slave, to which he has succumbed unintelligently, hopelessly, to be slaughtered on the altar by the exploiter? How has it been created? It is the individual who has created it through the desire for his own security, which naturally creates fear. When you begin the search for your own security through what you call spirituality, which is spurious, you must have fear. When mind seeks security, what does it expect? To be assured of a condition in which it can be at ease, a point of certainty from which it can think and act, and to live perpetually in that condition. But a mind that seeks certainty is never assured. It is the mind that does not seek certainty that can become assured. It is the mind which has no fear, which sees the futility of an aim, of a culmination, of an achievement, that lives intelligently, therefore with surety, and so is immortal. Thus the search for security must create fear, and from fear is born the desire for creeds and beliefs in order to ward off that fear. With your beliefs, your creeds, dogmas and authorities, you push fear into the background. To ward off fear you seek guides, masters, systems, because you hope that by following them, by obeying them, by imitating them you will have peace, you will have comfort. They are the tricksters who become priests, exploiters, preachers, mediators, swamis and yogis. Don't nod your head in approval, because you are all in this chaos. You are all caught up in it. You can only nod your head in approval when you are free of it. In listening to me and nodding your head you show mere intellectual approval of an idea which I am expressing. And what value has that? Where there is the craving for security there must be fear, so mind and heart seek out spiritual trainers to learn from them ways of escape. As in a circus the animals are trained to function for the amusement of spectators, so the individual through fear seeks out these spiritual trainers whom he calls priests and swamis, who are the defenders of spurious spirituality and the inanities of religion. Naturally the function of spiritual trainers is to create amusements for you, and so they invent ceremonies, disciplines and worship; all these pretend to be beautiful in expression, but degenerate into superstition. This is but knavery under the cloak of service. Discipline is merely a form of adjustment to an environment of a different kind, and yet the battle continues constantly within you even though through discipline you are stifling that creative intelligence. And worship, which in reality is most lovely, which is affection, love itself, becomes objectified, exploited, worthless, without any significance or value. Naturally out of all this fear is born the search for security, the search for God or truth. Can you ever find God? Can you ever find truth? But truth exists; God is. You cannot find truth, you cannot find God, because your search is but an escape from fear, your search is but a desire for a culmination. Therefore when you seek out God, you are merely seeking a comfortable resting place. Surely that is not God, that is not truth; that is merely a place, an abode of stagnation from which all intelligence is banished, in which all creative life is extinct. To me the very search for God or truth is the very denial of it. The mind that is not seeking a culmination, a goal, an end, shall discover truth. Then divinity is not an externalized, unfulfilled desire, but that intelligence which is itself God, which is beauty, truth, completeness. As I said, we have created unnatural divisions which we cal] religions and social organizations for human life. After all, these social organizations are essentially based on our needs, our needs of shelter, food and sex. The whole structure of our civilization is based on that. But this structure has become so monstrous, and we have glorified our needs so fearfully that our needs for shelter, food and sex, which are simple, natural and clean, have become complicated and made hideous, cruel, appalling, by this colossal and ever-crumbling structure which we call society, and which man has created. After all, to discover our needs in their simplicity, in their naturalness, in their cleanliness, in their spontaneity, demands tremendous intelligence. The man who has discovered his needs is no longer caught by environment. But because there is so much exploitation, so much unintelligence, so much ruthlessness in glorifying these needs, this structure which we call nationalism, economic independence, political and social organizations, class divisions, prestige of peoples and their racial cultures - this structure exists for the exploitation of man by man and leads him to conflict, disharmony, war and destruction. After all, this is the purpose of all class distinctions, this is the function of all nationalities, sovereign governments, racial prejudices, this utter spoilation and exploitation of man by man, leading to war. Now this is how things are, this whole structure, the creation of our human mind which we have individually built up. These monstrous, cruel, appalling social and religious distinctions, dividing, separating, disuniting human beings, have created havoc in the world. You as individuals have created them; they haven't come into being naturally, mysteriously, spontaneously. Some miraculous god has not created them. It is the individual who has created them, and you alone as individuals can destroy them. If we wait for some other monstrous system to come into being to create a new condition for you to live in, then you will become only a slave again to that new condition. In that there can be no intelligence, no spontaneous, creative living. As an individual you must begin to perceive the true significance of environment, whether it is of the past or of the present, that is, perceive the true significance of continually changing circumstances; and in the perception of that which is true in environment, there must be great conflict. But you do not desire conflict, you want reforms, you want someone to reform the environment. As most people are in conflict and try to escape from that conflict by seeking a solution, which can be but a modification of environment, as most people are caught up in conflict, I say: Become intensely conscious of that conflict, don't try to escape it, don't try to seek out solutions for it. Then in that acuteness of suffering you will discern the true significance of environment. In that clarity of thought there is no deception, no security, no withholding, and no limitation. This is intelligence, and this intelligence is pure action. When action is born of that intelligence, when action is itself intelligence, then you do not seek that intelligence or buy it through action. There is then completeness, sufficiency, richness, the realization of that eternity which is God. And that completeness, that intelligence prevents forever the creation of barriers and prisons. OJAI 8TH PUBLIC TALK 25TH JUNE, 1934 This morning I am going to answer questions. Question: Do I understand you to mean that the ego, made from the effects of environment, is the visible shell, surrounding a unique and immortal nut? Does that nut grow or shrivel or change? Krishnamurti: You know some of you bring the spirit of speculation, the spirit of gambling into your inquiry as to what is truth. Just as you speculate in the stock market to get rich quickly, and thus exploit others, cheat others, through this pernicious habit of gambling, so does a philosophical mind indulge in its habit of speculation. With that attitude of mind you begin to inquire if there is an immortal and enduring soul, entity or being which is complete in itself, or an ever increasing, growing, expanding individuality. Now why do you want to know? What lies behind this inquiry, this spirit of speculation? Wouldn't it be better not to inquire, not to speculate, but rather to ascertain if the environment creates that conflict resulting in that individual consciousness, of which I spoke yesterday? Would that not be better than merely to speculate, because all speculation about these matters must be utterly false, since one cannot possibly conceive, in that state of limitation, in that state of conflict between the result of environment and environment itself, one cannot conceive that reality, that eternal life which is truth. If you say that it is consciousness ever increasing, ever expanding, or that it is complete in itself, eternal, I think it is incorrect, because it is neither of these two things from the point of view of that which is intelligence. If you are merely speculating to discover whether that being grows, or eternally is, then the result will be a pattern, a metaphysical or philosophical concept according to which you will, consciously or unconsciously, mould your lives. Therefore such a pattern will be merely an escape, an escape from that conflict which alone can free man from his speculation, from his gambling. So if you become conscious of the conflict, then you will see in its intensity the meaning of eternity; that is, when you begin to free the mind and heart from all conflict there is intelligence, and then timelessness has a different significance altogether. It is a fulfillment, not a growth. It is ever becoming, not towards an end, but inherently. You can understand this intellectually, superficially, but you cannot understand it fundamentally in all its depth, richness, if the mind and heart are merely seeking a metaphysical refuge, or taking delight in philosophical speculations. Question: If the eternal is intelligence and therefore truth, then it is not bothered by the false which is the "I" and the environment. Similarly, there is no inducement to the false, the "I", the environment, to be troubled about the eternal, truth, intelligence; for, as you have said repeatedly, the one cannot be reached by the other, no matter how great is the effort. And it also appears that throughout the thousands of years of human life, the eternal has not made much headway in dissipating the false and creating truth. As they seem to be unrelated according to you, why not let the eternal be the eternal, and let the false get worse if it pleases? In a word, why bother about anything at all? Krishnamurti: Why bother about it? Why do you bother about anything in life? Because there is conflict, because man is caught in sorrow, in pain, transient joys, innumerable struggles, vain gropings, subtle fancies and romanticisms which are always collapsing; because there is continual strife in the mind, you begin to inquire why this struggle exists. If there is not a struggle, why bother about it? I quite agree with the questioner, why bother about anything if there is not this struggle, the struggle of earning money and keeping that money, the struggle of adjusting yourself to your neighbours, environment and conditions and demands, the struggle to be yourself, to express what you feel. If you don't feel that there is a struggle, then don't bother, let it alone. But I do not think there is a single human being in the world - except perhaps the savages in remote places away from civilization - who is not in the struggle, in the ceaseless search for security, for comfort, driven by fear. In that struggle man begins to create ideas concerning truth as ways of escape. I say there is a mode of life in which conflict ceases altogether, a way to live spontaneously, naturally, ecstatically. This to me is a fact, not a theory. And I would like to help those who are in sorrow, who are not seeking an end, who are trying to discover the cause of this conflict; those who are not seeking a solution -because there is no solution - to awaken in themselves that intelligence which dissipates, through understanding, the cause of conflict. But if you are not in conflict then there is nothing more to be said. Then you have ceased to think, then you have ceased to live, because you have merely found a security, a shelter away from this constant movement of life, which without understanding becomes a conflict, but when understood becomes a delight, an ecstasy, a continual movement, timeless; and that is eternity. So what is this conflict? Conflict, as I said, can only exist between two false things, conflict cannot exist between understanding and ignorance, conflict cannot exist between truth and that which is false. So man's whole conflict, his pain and his suffering, lies between two false things, between what he considers the essential and the inessential. Let us consider what these two false things are; not what was created first, not the old question: which came first - the chicken or the egg? That is again a metaphysical laziness of the speculative mind which is not really thinking. So long as we do not understand the true worth of the environment which creates the individual who battles against it, there must be struggle, there must be conflict, there must be ever increasing restraint and limitation. Therefore action, as I said yesterday, creates further barriers. And mind and heart - which to me are the same, I divide them for convenience of speech - are impaired and clouded over by memory, and memory is the result born of the search for security, it is the outcome of adjustment to environment, and that memory is continually clouding the mind that is intelligence itself, and therefore dividing it from intelligence; that memory creates the lack of understanding, that memory creates the conflict between the mind and environment. But if you can approach environment anew and not burdened by this memory of the past which is but a careful adjustment and therefore merely a warning; if you are that intelligence, that mind which is continually renewing itself, not adjusting, modifying itself to a condition, but meeting everything anew, like the sun on a fresh morning, like the evening stars, then in that freshness, in that alertness, there comes the comprehension of all things. Therefore conflict ceases altogether, because intelligence and conflict cannot exist to- gether. Disharmony ceases when intelligence is functioning in its plenitude. Question: When a person I love, without attachment or longing, comes into my thoughts and I dwell on them pleasantly for a moment, is this what you decry as not living fully in the present? Krishnamurti: What is living fully in the present? I will try again to explain what I mean. A mind that is in conflict, in struggle, is continually seeking an escape; either the memory of the past unconsciously precipitates itself in the mind, or the mind deliberately turns back into the past and lives in the delight of that past, which is one form of escape. Or else the mind in conflict, in struggle, which is without understanding, seeks a future, a future that you call a belief, a goal, a culmination, an achievement, a success, and escapes to that. It is the function of memory to be cunning and to escape from the present. This process of looking back is but one of the tricks of memory which you call self-analysis, which but perpetuates memory, and therefore limits and confines the mind, banishing intelligence. So there are these various forms of escape, and when mind has ceased to escape through memory, when memory no longer clouds the mind and heart, there is then that ecstasy of living in the present. This can only be when mind is no longer taking delight in the past or the future, when mind does not create division; in other words, when that supreme intelligence which is truth, which is beauty, which is love itself, is functioning normally, without effort - then in that state intelligence is timeless, and then there is not this fear of not living in the present. Question: When love is freed of all possessiveness, does this not necessarily result in asceticism and hence abnormality? Krishnamurti: If you were free of possessiveness, you would not ask this question. Before you have come to that immense thing, you are already afraid, and are therefore building a protective wall which you call asceticism. So let us consider first, not whether it will be asceticism and therefore abnormality, when you are free of possessiveness, but whether that possessiveness itself creates the struggle and produces the abnormal. Why is there this idea of possession? Is it not born out of insufficiency, out of incompleteness? And because of that insufficiency, sex and other problems assume great importance, and hence possessiveness plays a tremendous part in the lives of people. In completeness, which is intelligence itself, there is no abnormality. But being insufficient, incomplete, knowing poverty, emptiness, utter loneliness and shallowness of thought and emotion, we depend on other people, on books, on literature, on ideas, on philosophy to enrich our lives, and thus we begin to acquire, store up. This process of storing up for guidance in the present is but the functioning of memory which depends on knowledge which is of the past and therefore dead. As a man of many possessions looks for comfort in his things, so the man of poverty, of shallowness, of incompleteness, looks to the possession of his friend, of his wife or of his love; and out of this possessiveness comes the battle and the constant gnawings of mind and heart. And when there is freedom from these conflicts, which can come only through awareness, through the understanding of environment, and not through effort - when there is this freedom, this understanding, then there is no possessiveness and hence there is no abnormality. After all, the ascetic is one who eschews life because he does not understand it. He runs away from life, from life with all its expressions; whereas intelligence does not seek to escape from anything, because there is nothing to be put away; intelligence is complete, and in that completeness there is no division. Question: If priests are exploiters, why did Christ found the apostolic succession and Buddha his sangha? Krishnamurti: First of all, how do you know? You have been told, you have read of it in books. How do you know they are not the fabrications of priests for their own profession, for their own benefit? An authority seasoned through the mists of time becomes invulnerable, and then man accepts that authority as being final. Why accept the Christ or the Buddha, or anyone, including myself? Let us rather ascertain whether priests are exploiters, not merely accept that they are not, simply because Christ is supposed to have established the apostolic succession. That is only the habit of a lazy mind that wants to settle everything by authority, by precedent, saying that because someone has said it, therefore it must be true, it does not matter whether that someone is great or small. So let us find out. As I tried to explain yesterday, religions are the outcome of man's search for security. And therefore when a mind is seeking shelter, certainty, a place where it can rest, an assurance of immortality, when a mind seeks these, then there must be those to comfort and satisfy that mind. You may call them priests, exploiters, mediators, swamis; all these are of the same type. Now when you are seeking shelter, there is always the fear of losing it; when you are seeking gain, naturally with it comes the fear of loss. So the fear of loss drives you continually to this search for security, which to me is utterly false. And therefore a false cause creates a false product; and this product is the priest, the swami, the exploiter. Why do you want a priest at all? As a convenient person for marrying you or burying you, or to give you a blessing which will wash away all your so-called sins? There is no such thing as sin -there is only the lack of understanding, and that lack of understanding cannot be washed away by any priest, whether he claims apostolic succession or not. Intelligence alone can free you from that lack of understanding, not the benedictions of a priest, or going to an altar or to the grave. Do you go to a priest because he will awaken your intelligence, give you stimulation? Then treat this as you treat drink. If you are addicted to drink, it is a pity, because all dependence reveals a lack of intelligence, and then there must be suffering. And man is caught up in this suffering continually, although he does not and will not see the cause; he therefore multiplies means and ways of escape. But the cause is the very search for security, for this certainty which does not exist. The mind which is intelligent seeks no security, because there is no place, no abode where it can rest. Intelligence itself is tranquillity, creativeness, and as long as there is not that intelligence there must be suffering. Running away from the cause of suffering is not going to give you that intelligence; on the contrary, it makes you more blind, more ignorant; and more and more you will suffer. What gives you perception immediately, directly, is that full intensity of awareness in the present. To understand the environment, whatever it be, is intelligence. Then you are really beyond all priests, then you are beyond all limitations, beyond the gods themselves. Question: You refer to two forms of action: reaction to environment, which creates conflict, and penetration of environment, which brings freedom from conflict. I understand the first, but not the second. What do you mean by the penetration of environment? Krishnamurti: There is the reaction to environment when the mind does not understand the environment, and acts without understanding, thereby further increasing the limitation of environment. That is one form of action in which most people are caught up. You react to one environment which creates a conflict, and to escape from that conflict you create another environment which you hope will bring you peace, which is but acting in environment without understanding that the environment may change. That is one form of action. Then there is the other which is to understand environment and to act, which does not mean that you understand first and then act, but the very understanding itself is action; that is, it is without the calculation, modification, adjustment, which are the functions of memory. You see environment as it is, with all its significance, in the mirror of intelligence, and in that spontaneity of action there is freedom. After all, what is freedom? To move so that there are no barriers, to leave no barriers behind, or create them as you go along. Now the creation of barriers, the creation of environment is the function of memory, which is self-consciousness, which divides mind from intelligence. To put it again differently: action between two false things, the environment and the result of environment, action between these must ever create, must ever increase barriers and therefore diminish, banish intelligence. Whereas, if you recognize this - recognition is not a matter of intellect, recognition must be born of your complete being - then in that full awareness there takes place a different action, which is not burdened by memory - and I have explained what I mean by memory. Therefore every movement of thought and emotion takes a different nuance, a different significance. Then intelligence is not a division between the object which is environment and the creator which you call the self. Then intelligence does not divide, and therefore is itself the spontaneity of action. OJAI 9TH PUBLIC TALK 28TH JUNE, 1934 This morning I want to deal with the idea of values. Our whole life is merely a movement from value to value, but I think there is a way, if I may use that word with consideration and delicacy, whereby the mind can be freed from the sense of valuation. We are accustomed to values and their continual change. What we call the essential soon becomes the unessential, and in the process of this continual change of values lies conflict. As long as we do not understand the fundamental in the change of values, and the cause of that change, we shall ever be caught up in the wheel of conflicting values. I want to deal with the root idea of values, whether it is fundamental, whether mind which is intelligence, can always act spontaneously, naturally, without imparting values to environment. Now wherever there is dissatisfaction with environment, with circumstances, that discontent must lead to the desire for change, for reform. What you call reform is merely the creation of new sets of values and the destruction of the old. In other words, when you talk of reform, you really mean mere substitution. Instead of living in the old tradition with established values, you want, with the change of circumstances, to create new sets of values; that is, where there is this sense of valuation, there must be the idea of time, and therefore continual change of values. In times of stagnation, in times of settled comfort, that which is but the gradual transformation of values we call the struggle between the old generation and the new. That is, in times of peace and quietness, there takes place a gradual change of values, mostly unconscious, and this change, this gradual change, we term the struggle between the old and the young. In times of upheaval, in times of great conflict, violent and ruthless changes in values take place, which we call revolution. The swift change of values, which we call revolution, is violent, ruthless. The slow, gradual change of values is the continual battle that takes place between the settled, comfortable, stagnating mind and the circumstances that are forcing that stagnating mind into new conditions so that it has to create a new set of values. So then, these circumstances change slowly or rapidly, and the creation of new values is merely the result of adjustments to ever changing environment. Therefore values are merely the pattern of conformity. Why should you have values at all? Please don't say: "What will happen to us if we do not have values?" I haven't come to that, I haven't said that yet. So please follow this. Why should you have values? What is this whole idea of searching for values but a conflict between the new and the old, the ancient and the modern? Aren't values merely a mould, established by yourself or by society, to which mind, in its laziness, in its lack of perception desires to conform? Mind seeks a certainty, a conclusion, and in that search it acts; or it has trained itself to develop a background, and from that background it functions; or it has a belief, and from that belief it begins to colour its activities. Mind demands values so that it will not be at a loss, so that it will always have a guide to follow, to imitate. Hence values become merely the moulds in which the mind stagnates, and even the purpose of education seems to be to compel mind and heart to accept new conformities. So all reforms in religion, in moral standards, in social life and political organizations are merely the dictates of desire for adjustment to ever changing environment. That is what you call reform. Environments are constantly changing; circumstances are continually in movement, and reforms are made only because of the need for adjustment between the mind and the environment, not because the mind pierces through the environment, and therefore understands it. These new values are glorified as being fundamental, original and true. To me they are nothing else but subtle forms of coercion and conformity, subtle forms of modification; and these new values help, futilely, to bring about a scrappy reformation, a deceitful transformation of cloaks which we call change. So through this ever increasing conflict, divisions and sects are created. Each mind creates a new set of values according to its own reactions to the environment, and then begins the division of peoples; there come into being class distinctions and fierce antagonisms between creeds, between doctrines. And out of the immensity of this conflict, experts come into activity and call themselves reformers in religion and healers of social and economic ills. Being experts, so blinded are they by their own expertism, that they merely increase division and struggle. These are the religious reformers, social reformers, and economic and political reformers, all experts in their own limitations, and all dividing our life and human functioning into compartments and conflict. Now to me life cannot be divided that way at all. You can't think you are going to change your soul and yet be a nationalist; you can't be class conscious and yet talk about brotherhood, or create tariff walls around your own particular country and talk about the unity of life. If you observe, this is what you are doing all the time. You may have plenty of money, well established conditions about you, and be possessive, nationalistic and class conscious, and yet divide that separative consciousness from your spiritual consciousness in which you try to be brotherly, follow ethics, morality and try to realize God. In other words, you have divided life into various compartments and each compartment has its own special values, and you thereby only create further conflict. This division, this reliance on experts, is nothing else but the laziness of the mind, so that it need not think, but merely conform. Conformity, which is but the creation and destruction of values, is environment to which mind is constantly adjusting itself, and so mind becomes increasingly bound and enslaved. But conformity must exist so long as mind is bound by environment. So long as mind has not understood the significance of environment, circumstances, conditions, there must be conformity. Tradition is but the mould for the mind, and a mind that imagines itself free from tradition merely creates its own mould. A man who says, "I am free of tradition", has probably another mould of his own to which he is a slave. So freedom is not in going from an old mould into a new one, from an old stupidity into a new stupidity, or from restraint of tradition to the license of mindlessness, of lack of mind. And yet you will observe that those people who talk a great deal about freedom, liberation, are doing that; that is, they have put away their old tradition and have now a pattern of their own to which they conform, and naturally this conformity is but mindlessness, the absence of intelligence. What you call tradition is merely outer environment with its values, and what you call freedom from tradition is but enslavement to some inner environment and its values. One is imposed, and the other self-created; isn't it? That is, circumstances, environment, conditions, are imposing certain values and making you conform to those values, or you develop your own values to which you are again conforming. In both cases there is merely adjustment, not comprehension of environ- ment. From this there arises, naturally, the question whether mind can ever discover lasting values, so that there will not be this constant change, this constant conflict created by values which one has established for oneself, or which have been imposed on one externally. What is it that we call changing values? To me these changing values are but cultivated fears. There must be the change of values so long as there are essentials and unessentials, so long as there are opposites, and the whole idea and the great worship of success, in which we include gain and loss and achievement - as long as these exist and the mind is pursuing these as its aim, its goal, there must be the changing of values, and therefore conflict. Now what is it that creates the changing of values? Mind which is also heart, is befogged and clouded by memory, and is ever undergoing a change, modifying or altering itself, is depending ever on the movement of circumstances, the lack of understanding of which creates memory. That is, as long as mind is clouded by memory, which is the outcome of adjustment to environment, and not the understanding of environment, that memory must come between intelligence and environment, and therefore there cannot be the full comprehension of environment. This memory, which you call mind, is giving and imparting values, isn't it? That is the whole function of memory, which you call mind. That is, mind, instead of being itself intelligence which is direct perception, mind clouded by memory is giving values as true and false, essential and unessential, according to its cunning, according to its calculating fears and its search for security. Isn't that so? That is the whole function of memory, which you call the mind, but which is not mind at all. To the majority of people, except perhaps here and there to one rare, happy person, mind is merely a machine, a storehouse of memory which is continually giving values to the things it meets, to experiences. And the imparting of values depends on its subtle calculations, cunning and deceitfulness, based on fear and the search for security. Though there is no such thing as fundamental security - it is obvious, the moment you begin to think, observe awhile, that there is no such thing as security - memory seeks security after security, certainty after certainty, essential after essential, achievement after achievement. As the mind is constantly seeking security, the moment it has that security, it regards as unessential what it has left behind. Again, it is only imparting values, and thus in this process of movement from goal to goal, from essential to essential, in the process of this constant movement, its values are changing, always coloured by its own security and anxiety for its perpetuation. So mind-heart, or memory, is caught up in the struggle of changing values, and this battle is called progress, the evolutionary path of choice leading to truth. That is, mind, seeking security and reaching its goal, is not satisfied with it, therefore again moves on and again begins to give new values to all things in its path. This process of movement you call growth, the evolutionary path of choice between the essential and the unessentials. This growth is to me nothing else but memory conforming and adjusting itself to its own creation which is the environment; and fundamentally there is no difference between that memory and the environment. Naturally, action is always the result of calculation when it is born of this conformity and adjustment. Isn't it? When mind is clouded over by memory, which is but the result of the lack of understanding of environment, such a mind, befogged by memory, must in its action seek an escape, a culmination, a motive, and therefore that action is never free, it is always limited, and is always creating further bondages, further conflict. So this vicious circle of memory, burdened by its conflict, becomes the creator of values. Values are environment, and mind and heart become its slaves. I wonder if you have understood all this. No, I see someone shaking his head. Let me put the same idea differently and perhaps make it clear, if I can. As long as mind does not understand environment, that environment must create memory, and the movement of memory is the changing of values. Memory must exist so long as the mind is seeking a culmination, a goal; and its action must ever be calculated, can never be spontaneous - by action I mean thought and emotion - and therefore that action must ever lead to greater and greater burdens, greater and greater limitation. The growth of this limitation, the extension of this prison, is called evolution, the path of choice towards truth. That is how mind functions for most people, and so the more it functions, the greater becomes the suffering, the greater the intensity of struggle. The mind creates ever new and greater barriers, and then seeks further escapes from that conflict. So how is one to free the mind from giving values at all? When the mind imparts values, it can only impart them through the fog of memory, and therefore cannot understand the full significance of environment. If I examine or try to understand circumstances through the various deep-rooted prejudices - national, racial, social or religious prejudices - how can I understand environment? Yet that is what mind attempts, the mind which is befogged by memory. Now intelligence imparts no values, which are but the measures, standards or calculations, born out of self-protectiveness. So how is there to be this intelligence, this mirror of truth, in which there are only absolute reflections and no perversions? After all, the intelligent man is the summation of intelligence; his is an absolute, direct perception without twists and perversions which result when memory functions. What I am saying can only apply to those who are really in conflict, not to those who want to reform, who want to do patchwork. I have explained what I mean by reform, by patchwork - it is an adjustment to an environment, born out of the lack of understanding. How is one to have this intelligence which destroys struggle and conflict and the ceaseless effort which wears out mind itself? You know, when you make an effort, you are as a piece of wood that is being whittled away continually until there is no wood left at all. So if there is this continual effort, this constant wear, mind ceases to be itself; and effort only exists so long as there is conformity or adjustment to environment. Whereas if there is immediate perception, immediate, spontaneous understanding of environment, there is no effort to adjust oneself. There is an immediate action. So how is one to awaken this intelligence? Now, what happens in moments of great crisis? In that rich moment when memory is not escaping, in that acute, intense awareness of the circumstance, of the environment, there is the perception of what is true. You do this in moments of crisis. You are fully conscious of all circumstances, of the condition about you, and also you are aware that mind cannot escape. In that intensity which is not relative, in that intensity of acute crisis, intelligence is functioning and there is spontaneous understanding. After all, what is it that we call a crisis, a sorrow? When the mind is lethargic, when it has gone to sleep, when it has conditioned itself in contentment, in stagnation, there comes an experience to awaken you, and that awakening, that shock, you call crisis, sorrow. Now if that crisis or conflict is really intense, then you will see in that state of acuteness of mind and heart, that there is an immediate perception. That intensity becomes relative only when memory comes in with its calculations, modifications, and clouds. Please, I hope you will experiment with what I am saying. Each one has moments of crisis. They occur very often; if one is aware they occur every minute. Now in that crisis, in that conflict, observe, without the desire for a solution, without the desire for escape, without the desire to overcome it. Then you will see that mind has understood instantaneously the cause of conflict, and in understanding the cause, there is the dissolution of the cause. But we have so trained the mind to escape, to let memory cloud the mind, that it is very difficult to become intensely aware. Hence we seek means and ways of escape or of awakening that intelligence, which to me is again false. Intelligence functions spontaneously if the mind ceases to escape, ceases to seek solutions. So when the mind is not imparting values, which is mere conformity, when there is spontaneous understanding of the prison, which is environment, then there is the action of intelligence, which is freedom. As long as the mind, clouded by memory, imparts values, action must create further walls of prison; but in the spontaneous understanding of the walls of the prison, which is environment, in that understanding there is the action of intelligence, which is freedom; because that action, that intelligence, is not creating or imparting values. Values must exist - values which are circumstances and therefore bondage, conformity to environment -these values of conformity, of circumstances, must exist so long as there is fear, which is born of the search for security. And when the mind, which is intelligence, sees the full significance of environment and therefore understands environment, there is spontaneous action which is intelligence itself, and therefore that intelligence is not imparting values, but is completely understanding the circumstances in which it exists. OJAI 10TH PUBLIC TALK 29TH JUNE, 1934 From the questions that have been put to me, my talks seem to have created some confusion, I think because we are caught up in the words themselves and do not go deeply into their meaning or use them as a means of comprehension. To me there is a reality, an immense living truth; and to comprehend that, there must be utter simplicity of thought. What is simple is infinitely subtle, what is simple is greatly delicate. There is a great subtlety, an infinite subtlety and delicacy, and if you use words merely as a means of getting to that delicacy, to that simplicity of thought, then I am afraid you will not comprehend what I want to convey. But if you would use the significance of words as a bridge to cross, then words will not become an illusion in which the mind is lost. I say there is this living reality, call it God, truth, or what you like, and it cannot be found or realized through search. Where there is the implication of search, there must be contrast and duality; whenever mind is seeking, it must inevitably imply a division, a distinction, a contrast, which does not mean that mind must be contented, mind must be stagnant. There is that delicate poise, which is neither contentment, nor this ceaseless effort born of search, of this desire to attain, to achieve; and in that delicacy of poise lies simplicity, not the simplicity of having but few clothes or few possessions. I am not talking of such simplicity, which is merely a crude form, but of simplicity born of this delicacy of thought, in which there is neither search nor contentment. As I said, search implies duality, contrast. Now where there is contrast, duality, there must be identification with one of the opposites, and from this there arises compulsion. When we say we search, our mind is rejecting something and seeking a substitute that will satisfy it, and thereby it creates duality, and from this there arises compulsion. That is, the choice of the one is the overcoming of the other, isn't it? When we say we seek out or cultivate a new value, it is but the overcoming of that in which the mind is already caught up, which is its opposite. This choice is based on attraction to one or fear of the other, and this clinging through attraction, or rejection through fear, creates influence over the mind. Influence then is the negation of understanding, and can exist only where there is division, the psychological division from which there arise distinctions such as class, national, religious, sex. That is, when the mind is trying to overcome, it must create duality, and that very duality negates understanding, and creates the distinctions which we call class, religion, sex. That duality influences the mind, and hence a mind influenced by duality cannot understand the significance of environment or the significance of the cause of conflict. These psychological influences are merely reactions to environment from that centre of "I" consciousness, of like and dislike, of antitheses, and naturally where there are antitheses, opposites, there can be no comprehension. From this distinction there arises the classification of influences as beneficial and evil. So as long as mind is influenced - and influence is born of attraction, opposites, antitheses - there must be the domination or compulsion of love, of intellect, of society, and this influence must be a hindrance to that understanding which is beauty, truth and love itself. Now if you can become aware of this influence, then you can discern its cause. Most people seem to be aware superficially, not at the greatest depth. It is only when there is awareness at the greatest depth of consciousness, of thought and emotion, that you can discern the division that is created through influence, which negates understanding. Question: After listening to your talk about memory, I have completely lost mine, and I find I cannot remember my huge debts. I feel blissful. Is this liberation? Krishnamurti: Ask the person to whom you owe the money. I am afraid that there is some confusion with regard to what I have been trying to say concerning memory. If you rely on memory as a guide to conduct, as a means of activity in life, then that memory must impede your action, your conduct, because then that action or conduct is merely the result of calculation, and therefore it has no spontaneity, no richness, no fullness of life. It does not mean that you must forget your debts. You cannot forget the past. You cannot blot it out of your mind. That is an impossibility. Subconsciously it will exist, but if that subconscious, dormant memory is influencing you unconsciously, is moulding your action, your conduct, your whole outlook on life, then that influence must ever be creating further limitations, imposing further burdens on the functioning of intelligence. For example, I have recently come from India; I have been to Australia and New Zealand where I met various people, had many ideas and saw many sights. I can't forget these, though the memory of them may fade. But the reaction to the past may impede my full comprehension in the present, it may hinder the intelligent functioning of my mind. That is, if my experiences and remembrances of the past are becoming hindrances in the present through their reaction, then I cannot comprehend or live fully, intensely, in the present. You react to the past because the present has lost its significance, or because you want to avoid the present; so you go back to the past and live in that emotional thrill, in that reaction of surging memory, because the present has little value. So when you say, "I have completely lost my memory", I am afraid you are fit for only one place. You cannot lose memory, but by living completely in the present, in the fullness of the moment, you become conscious of all the subconscious entanglements of memory, the dormant hopes and longings which surge forward and prevent you from functioning intelligently in the present. If you are aware of that, if you are aware of that hindrance, aware of it at its depth, not superficially, then the dormant subconscious memory, which is but the lack of understanding and incompleteness of living, disappears, and therefore you meet each movement of environment, each swiftness of thought anew. Question: You say that the complete understanding of the outer and inner environment of the individual releases him from bondage and sorrow. Now, even in that state, how can one free himself from the indescribable sorrow which in the nature of things is caused by the death of someone he really loves? Krishnamurti: What is the cause of suffering in this case? And what is it that we call suffering? Isn't suffering merely a shock to the mind to awaken it to its own insufficiency? The recogni- tion of that insufficiency creates what we call sorrow. Suppose that you have been relying on your son or your husband or your wife to satisfy that insufficiency, that incompleteness; by the loss of that person whom you love, there is created the full consciousness of that emptiness, of that void, and out of that consciousness comes sorrow, and you say, "I have lost somebody." So through death there is, first of all, the full consciousness of emptiness, which you have been carefully evading. Hence where there is dependence there must be emptiness, shallowness, insufficiency, and therefore sorrow and pain. We don't want to recognize that; we don't see that that is the fundamental cause. So we begin to say, "I miss my friend, my husband, my wife, my child. How am I to overcome this loss? How am I to overcome this sorrow?" Now all overcoming is but substitution. In that there is no understanding and therefore there can only be further sorrow, though momentarily you may find a substitution that will completely put the mind to sleep. If you don't seek an overcoming, then you turn to seances, mediums, or take shelter in the scientific proof that life continues after death. So you begin to discover various means of escape and substitution, which momentarily relieve you from suffering. Whereas, if there were the cessation of this desire to overcome and if there were really the desire to understand, to find out, fundamentally, what causes pain and sorrow, then you would discover that so long as there is loneliness, shallowness, emptiness, insufficiency, which in its outer expression is dependence, there must be pain. And you cannot fill that insufficiency by overcoming obstacles, by substitutions, by escaping or by accumulating, which is merely the cunning of the mind lost in the pursuit of gain. Suffering is merely that high, intense clarity of thought and emotion which forces you to recognize things as they are. But this does not mean acceptance, resignation. When you see things as they are in the mirror of truth, which is intelligence, then there is a joy, an ecstasy; in that there is no duality, no sense of loss, no division. I assure you this is not theoretical. If you consider what I am now saying, with my answer to the first question about memory, you will see how memory creates greater and greater dependence, the continual looking back to an event emotionally, to get a reaction from it, which prevents the full expression of intelligence in the present. Question: What suggestion or advice would you give to one who is hindered by strong sexual desire? Krishnamurti: After all, where there is no creative expression of life, we give undue importance to sex, which becomes an acute problem. So the question is not what advice or suggestion I would give, or how one can overcome passion, sexual desire, but how to release that creative living, and not merely tackle one part of it, which is sex; that is, how to understand the wholeness, the completeness of life. Now, through modern education, through circumstances and environment, you are driven to do something which you hate. You are repelled, but you are forced to do it because of your lack of proper equipment, proper training. In your work you are being prevented by circumstances, by conditions, from expressing yourself fundamentally, creatively, and so there must be an outlet; and this outlet becomes the sex problem or the drink problem or some idiotic, inane problem. All these outlets become problems. Or you are artistically inclined. There are very few artists, but you may be inclined, and that inclination is continually being perverted, twisted, thwarted, so that you have no means of real self-expression, and thus undue importance comes to be given either to sex or to some religious mania. Or your ambitions are thwarted, curtailed, hindered, and so again undue importance is given to those things that should be normal. So, until you understand comprehensively your religious, political, economic and social desires, and their hindrances, the natural functions of life will take an immense importance, and the first place in your life. Hence all the innumerable problems of greed, of possessiveness, of sex, of social and racial distinctions have their false measure and false value. But if you were to deal with life, not in parts but as a whole, comprehensively, creatively, with intelligence, then you would see that these problems, which are enervating the mind and destroying creative living, disappear, and then intelligence functions normally, and in that there is an ecstasy. Question: I have been under the impression that I have been putting your ideas into action; but I have no joy in life, no enthusiasm for any pursuit. My attempts at awareness have not cleared my confusion, nor have they brought any change or vitality into my life. My living has no more meaning for me now than it had when I started to listen to you seven years ago. What is wrong with me? Krishnamurti: I wonder if the questioner has, first of all, understood what I have been saying before trying to put my ideas into action. And why should he put my ideas into action? And what are my ideas? And why are they my ideas? I am not giving you a mould or a code by which you can live, or a system which you can follow. All that I am saying is, that to live creatively, enthusiastically, intelligently, vitally, intelligence must function. That intelligence is perverted, hindered, by what one calls memory, and I have explained what I mean by that, so I won't go into it again. So long as there is this constant battle to achieve, so long as mind is influenced, there must be duality, and hence pain, struggle; and our search for truth or for reality is but an escape from that pain. And so I say, become aware that your effort, your struggle, your impinging memories are destroying your intelligence. To become aware is not to be superficially conscious, but to go into the full depth of consciousness so as not to leave undiscovered one unconscious reaction. All this demands thought; all this demands an alertness of mind and heart, not a mind that is cluttered up with beliefs, creeds and ideals. Most minds are burdened with these and with the desire to follow. As you become conscious of your burden, don't say you mustn't have ideals, you mustn't have creeds, and repeat all the rest of the jargon. The very"must" creates another doctrine, another creed; merely become conscious, and in the intensity of that consciousness, in the intensity of awareness, in that flame you will create such crisis, such conflict, that that very conflict itself will dissolve the hindrance. I know some people come here year after year, and I try to explain these ideas in different ways each year, but I am afraid there is very little thought among the people who say, "We have been listening to you for seven years." I mean by thought, not mere intellectual reasoning, which is but ashes, but that poise between emotion and reason, between affection and thought; and that poise is not influenced, is not affected by the conflict of the opposites. But if there is neither the capacity to think clearly, nor the intensity of feeling, how can you awaken, how can there be poise, how can there be this alertness, awareness? So life becomes futile, inane, worthless. Hence the very first thing to do, if I may suggest it, is to find out why you are thinking in a certain way, and why you are feeling in a certain manner. Don't try to alter it, don't try to analyze your thoughts and your emotions; but become conscious of why you are thinking in a particular groove and from what motive you act. Although you can discover the motive through analysis, although you may find out something through analysis, it will not be real; it will be real only when you are intensely aware at the moment of the functioning of your thought and emotion; then you will see their extraordinary subtlety, their fine delicacy. So long as you have a "must" and a "must not", in this compulsion you will never discover that swift wandering of thought and emotion. And I am sure you have been brought up in the school of "must" and "must not" and hence you have destroyed thought and feeling. You have been bound and crippled by systems, methods, by your teachers. So leave all those "must" and "must nots". This does not mean that there shall be licentiousness, but become aware of a mind that is ever saying, "I must", and "I must not." Then as a flower blossoms forth of a morning, so intelligence happens, is there, functioning, creating comprehension. Question: The artist is sometimes mentioned as one who has this understanding of which you speak, at least while working creatively. But if someone disturbs or crosses him, he may react violently, excusing his reaction as a manifestation of temperament. Obviously he is not living completely at the moment. Does he really understand if he so easily slips back into self-consciousness? Krishnamurti: Who is the person that you call an artist? A man who is momentarily creative? To me he is not an artist. The man who merely at rare moments has this creative impulse and expresses that creativeness through perfection of technique, surely you would not call him an artist. To me, the true artist is one who lives completely, harmoniously, who does not divide his art from living, whose very life is that expression, whether it be a picture, music, or his behaviour; who has not divorced his expression on a canvas or in music or in stone from his daily conduct, daily living. That demands the highest intelligence, highest harmony. To me the true artist is the man who has that harmony. He may express it on canvas, or he may talk, or he may paint; or he may not express it at all, he may feel it. But all this demands that exquisite poise, that intensity of awareness, and therefore his expression is not divorced from the daily continuity of living. OJAI 11TH PUBLIC TALK 30TH JUNE, 1934 What we call happiness or ecstasy is to me creative thinking. And creative thinking is the infinite movement of thought, emotion and action. That is, when thought, which is emotion, which is action itself, is unimpeded in its movement, is not compelled or influenced or bound by an idea, and does not proceed from the background of tradition or habit, then that movement is creative. So long as thought - and I won't repeat each time emotion and action - so long as thought is circumscribed, held by a fixed idea, or merely adjusts itself to a background or condition and therefore becomes limited, such thought is not creative. So the question which every thoughtful person puts to himself is how can he awaken this creative thinking; because when there is this creative thinking, which is infinite movement, then there can be no idea of a limitation, a conflict. Now this movement of creative thinking does not seek in its expression a result, an achievement; its results and expressions are not its culmination. It has no culmination or goal, for it is eternally in movement. Most minds are seeking a culmination, a goal, an achievement, and are moulding themselves upon the idea of success, and such thought, such thinking is continually limiting itself. Whereas if there is no idea of achievement but only the continual movement of thought as understanding, as intelligence, then that movement of thought is creative. That is, creative thinking ceases when mind is crippled by adjustment through influence, or when it functions with the background of a tradition which it has not understood, or from a fixed point, like an animal tied to a post. So long as this limitation, adjustment exists, there cannot be creative thinking, intelligence, which alone is freedom. This creative movement of thought never seeks a result or comes to a culmination, because result or culmination is always the outcome of alternate cessation and movement, whereas if there is no search for a result, but only continual movement of thought, then that is creative thinking. Again, creative thinking is free of division which creates conflict between thought, emotion and action. And division exists only when there is the search for a goal, when there is adjustment and the complacency of certainty. Action is this movement which is itself thought and emotion, as I explained. This action is the relationship between the individual and society. It is conduct, work, co-operation, which we call fulfillment. That is, when mind is functioning without seeking a culmination, a goal, and therefore thinking creatively, that thinking is action, which is the relationship between the individual and society. Now if this movement of thought is clear, simple, direct, spontaneous, profound, then there is no conflict in the individual against society, for action then is the very expression of this living, creative movement. So to me there is no art of thinking, there is only creative thinking. There is no technique of thinking, but only spontaneous creative functioning of intelligence, which is the harmony of reason, emotion and action, not divided or divorced from each other. Now this thinking and feeling, without a search for a reward, a result, is true experiment, isn't it? In real experiencing, real experimenting, there cannot be the search for result, because this experimenting is the movement of creative thought. To experiment, mind must be continually freeing itself from the environment with which it conflicts in its movement, the environment which we call the past. There can be no creative thinking if mind is hindered by the search for a reward, by the pursuit of a goal. When the mind and heart are seeking a result or a gain, thereby complacency and stagnation, there must be practice, an overcoming, a discipline, out of which comes conflict. Most people think that by practicing a certain idea, they will release creative thinking. Now, practice, if you come to observe it, ponder over it, is nothing but the result of duality. And an action born of this duality must perpetuate that distinction between mind and heart, and such action becomes merely the expression of a calculated, logical, self-protective conclusion. If there is this practice of self discipline, or this continual domination or influence by circumstances, then practice is merely an alteration, a change towards an end; it is merely action within the confines of the limited thought which you call self-consciousness. So practice does not bring about creative thinking. To think creatively is to bring about harmony between mind, emotion and action. That is, if you are convinced of an action, without the search of a reward at the end, then that action, being the result of intelligence, releases all hindrances that have been placed on the mind through the lack of understanding. I am afraid you are not getting this. When I put forward a new idea for the first time, and you are not accustomed to it, naturally you find it very difficult to understand; but if you will think over it, you will see its significance. Where the mind and heart are held by fear, by lack of understanding, by compulsion, such a mind, though it can think within the confines, within the limitations of that fear, is not really thinking, and its action must ever throw up new barriers. Therefore its capacity to think is ever being limited. But if the mind frees itself through the understanding of circumstances, and therefore acts, then that very action is creative thinking. Question: Will you please give an example of the practical exercise of constant awareness and choice in everyday life. Krishnamurti: Would you ask that question if there were a poisonous snake in your room? Then you wouldn't ask, "How am I to keep awake? How am I to be intensely aware?" You ask that question only when you are not sure that there is a poisonous snake in your room. Either you are wholly unconscious of it, or you want to play with that snake, you want to enjoy its pain and its delights. Please follow this. There cannot be awareness, that alertness of mind and emotion, so long as mind is still caught up in both pain and pleasure. That is, when an experience gives you pain and at the same time gives you pleasure, you do nothing about it. You act only when the pain is greater than the pleasure, but if the pleasure is greater, you do nothing at all about it, because there is no acute conflict. It is only when pain overbalances pleasure, is more acute than pleasure, that you demand an action. Most people wait for the increase of pain before they act, and during this waiting period, they want to know how to be aware. No one can tell them. They are waiting for the increase of pain before they act, that is, they wait for pain through its compulsion to force them to act, and in that compulsion there is no intelligence. It is merely environment which forces them to act in a particular way, not intelligence. Therefore when a mind is caught up in this stagnation, in this lack of tenseness, there will naturally be more pain, more conflict. By the look of things political, war may break out again. It may break out in two years, in five years, in ten years. An intelligent man can see this and intelligently act. But the man who is stagnating, who is waiting for pain to force him to action, looks to greater chaos, greater suffering to give him impetus to act, and hence his intelligence is not functioning. There is awareness only when the mind and heart are taut, are in great tenseness. For example, when you see that possessiveness must lead to incompleteness, when you see that insufficiency, lack of richness, shallowness must ever produce dependence, when you recognize that, what happens to your mind and heart? The immediate craving is to fill that shallowness; but apart from that, when you see the futility of continual accumulation, you begin to be aware how your mind is functioning. You see that in mere accumulation there cannot be creative thinking; and yet mind is pursuing accumulation. Therefore in becoming aware of that, you create a conflict, and that very conflict will dissolve the cause of accumulation. Question: In what way could a statesman who understood what you are saying, give it expression in public affairs? Or is it not more likely that he would retire from politics when he understood their false bases and objectives? Krishnamurti: If he understood what I am saying, he would not separate politics from life in its completeness; and I don't see why he should retire. After all, politics now are merely instruments of exploitation; but if he considered life as a whole, not politics only -and by politics he means only his country, his people, and the exploitation of others - and regarded human problems not as national but as world problems, not as American, Hindu or German problems, then, if he understood what I am talking about, he would be a true human being, not a politician And to me, that is the most important thing, to be a human being, not an exploiter, or merely an expert in one particular line. I tried to explain that yesterday in my talk. I think that is where the mischief lies. The politician deals with politics only; the moralist with morals, the so-called spiritual teacher with the spirit, each thinking that he is the expert, and excluding all others. Our whole structure of society is based on that, and so these leaders of the various departments create greater havoc and greater misery. Whereas if we as human beings saw the intimate connection between all these, between politics, religion, the economic and social life, if we saw the connection, then we would not think and act separatively, individualistically. In India, for example, there are millions starving. The Hindu who is a nationalist says, "Let us first become intensely national; then we shall be able to solve this problem of starvation." Whereas to me, the way to solve the problem of starvation is not to become nationalistic, but the contrary; starvation is a world problem, and this process of isolation but further increases starvation. So if the politician deals with the problems of human life merely as a politician, then such a man creates greater havoc, greater mischief, greater misery; but if he considers the whole of life without differentiation between races, nationalities, and classes, then he is truly a human being, though he may be a politician. Question: You have said that with two or three others who understand, you could change the world. Many believe that they themselves understand, and that there are others likewise, such as artists and men of science, and yet the world is not changed. Please speak of the way in which you would change the world. Are you not now changing the world, perhaps slowly and subtly, but nevertheless definitely, through your speaking, your living, and the influence you will undoubtedly have on human thought in the years to come? Is this the change you had in mind, or was it something immediately affecting the political, economic and racial structure? Krishnamurti: I am afraid I have never thought of the immediacy of action and its effect. To have a lasting, true result, there must be behind action, great observation, thought, and intelligence, and very few people are willing to think creatively, or be free from influence and bias. If you begin to think individually, you will then be able to co-operate intelligently; and as long as there is no intelligence there cannot be co-operation, but only compulsion and hence chaos. Question: To what extent can a person control his own actions? If we are, at any one time, the sum of our previous experience, and there is no spiritual self, is it possible for a person to act in any other way than that which is determined by his original inheritance, the sum of his past training, and the stimuli which play upon him at the time? If so, what causes the changes in the physical processes, and how? Krishnamurti: "To what extent can a person control his own actions?" A person does not control his own actions if he has not understood environment. Then he is only acting under the compulsion, the influence of environment; such an action is not action at all, but is merely reaction or self-protectiveness. But when a person begins to understand environment, sees its full significance and worth, then he is master of his own actions, then he is intelligent; and therefore no matter what the condition he will function intelligently. "If we are, at any one time, the sum of our previous experience, and there is no spiritual self, is it possible for a person to act in any other way than that which is determined by his original inheritance, the sum of his past training, and the stimuli which play upon him at the time?" Again, what I have said applies to this. That is, if he is merely acting from the burden of the past, whether it be his individual or racial inheritance, such action is merely the reaction of fear; but if he understands the subconscious, that is, his past accumulations, then he is free of the past, and therefore he is free of the compulsion of the environment. After all, environment is of the present as well as of the past. One does not understand the present because of the clouding of the mind by the past; and to free the mind from the subconscious, the unconscious hindrances of the past, is not to roll memory back into the past, but to be fully conscious in the present. In that consciousness, in that full consciousness of the present, all the past hindrances come into activity, surge forward, and in that surging forward, if you are aware, you will see the full significance of the past, and therefore understand the present. "If so, what causes the changes in the physical processes, and how?" As far as I understand the questioner, he wants to know what produces this action, this action which is forced upon him by environment. He acts in a particular manner, compelled by environment, but if he understood environment intelligently, there would be no compulsion whatever; there would be understanding, which is action itself. Question: I live in a world of chaos, politically, economically, and socially, bound by laws and conventions which restrict my freedom. When my desires conflict with these impositions, I must break the law and take the consequences, or repress my desires. Where then, in such a world, is there any escape from self-discipline? Krishnamurti: I have spoken about this often, but I will try again to explain it. Self-discipline is merely an adjustment to environment, brought about through conflict. That is what I call self-discipline. You have established a pattern, an ideal, which acts as a compulsion, and you are forcing the mind to adjust itself to that environment, forcing it, modifying it, controlling it. What happens when you do that? You are really destroying creativeness; you are perverting, suppressing creative affection. But if you begin to understand environment, then there is no longer repression or mere adjustment to environment, which you call self-discipline. How then can you understand environment? How can you understand its full worth, significance? What prevents you from seeing its significance? First of all, fear. Fear is the cause of the search for protection or security, security which is either physical, spiritual, religious or emotional. So long as there is that search there must be fear, which then creates a barrier between your mind and your environment, and thereby creates conflict; and that conflict you cannot dissolve as long as you are only concerned with adjustment, modification, and never with the discovery of the fundamental cause of fear. So where there is this search for security, for a certainty, for a goal, preventing creative thinking, there must be adjustment, called self-discipline, which is but compulsion, the imitation of a pattern. Whereas when the mind sees that there is no such thing as security in the piling up of things or of knowledge, then mind is released from fear, and therefore mind is intelligence, and that which is intelligence does not discipline itself. There is self-discipline only where there is no intelligence. Where there is intelligence, there is understanding, free from influence, from control and domination. Question: How is it possible to awaken thought in an organism wherein the mechanism requisite for the apprehension of abstract ideas is absent? Krishnamurti: By the simple process of suffering; by the process of continual experience. But you see, we have taken such shelter behind false values that we have ceased to think at all, and then we ask, "What are we to do? How are we to awaken thought?" We have cultivated fears which have become glorified as virtues and ideals, behind which mind takes shelter, and all action proceeds from that shelter, from that mould. Therefore there is no thinking. You have conventions, and the adjusting of oneself to these conventions is called thought and action, which is not at all thought or action, because it is born of fear, and therefore cripples the mind. How can you awaken thought? Circumstances, or the death of someone you love, or a catastrophe, or depression, force you into conflict. Circumstances, outer circumstances, force you to act, and in that compulsion there cannot be the awakening of thought, because you are acting through fear. And if you begin to see that you cannot wait for circumstances to force you to act, then you begin to observe the very circumstances themselves; then you begin to penetrate and understand the circumstances, the environment, You don't wait for depression to make you into a virtuous person, but you free your mind from possessiveness, from compulsion. The acquisitive system is based on the idea that you can possess, and that it is legal to possess. Possession glorifies you. The more you have, the better, the nobler you are considered. You have created that system, and you have become a slave to that system. You can create another society, not based on acquisitiveness, and that society can compel you as individuals to conform to its conventions, just as this society compels you to conform to its acquisitiveness. What is the difference? None whatever. You as individuals are merely being forced by circumstances or law to act in a particular direction, and therefore there is no creative thinking at all; whereas if intelligence is beginning to function, then you are not a slave to either society, the acquisitive or the non-acquisitive. But to free the mind, there must be great intensity; there must be this continual alertness, observation, which itself creates conflict. This alertness itself produces a disturbance, and when there is that crisis, that intensity of conflict, then mind, if it is not escaping, begins to think anew, to think creatively, and that very thinking is eternity. OJAI 12TH PUBLIC TALK 1ST JULY, 1934 I think most people have lost the art of listening. They come with their particular problems, and think that by listening to my talk their problems will be solved. I am afraid this will not happen; but if you know how to listen, then you will begin to understand the whole, and your mind will not be entangled by the particular. So, if I may suggest it, don't try to seek from this talk a solution for your particular problem, or an alleviation of your suffering. I can help you, or rather you will help yourself only if you think anew, creatively. Regard life, not as several isolated problems, but comprehensively, as a whole, with a mind that is not suffocated by the search for solutions. If you will listen without the burden of problems, and take a comprehensive outlook, then you will see that your particular problem has a different significance; and although it may not be solved at once, you will begin to see the true cause of it. In thinking anew, in relearning how to think, there will come the dissolution of the problems and conflicts with which one's mind and heart are burdened, and from which arise all disharmony, pain and suffering. Now, each one, more or less, is consumed by desires whose objects vary according to environment, temperament and inheritance. According to your particular condition, to your particular education and upbringing, religious, social, and economic, you have established certain objectives whose attainment you are ceaselessly pursuing, and this pursuit has become paramount in your lives. Once you have established these objectives, there naturally arise the specialists who act as your guides towards the attainment of your desires. Hence the perfection of technique, specialization, becomes the means to gain your end; and in order to gain this end, which you have established through your religious, economic, and social conditioning, you must have specialists. So your action loses its significance, its value, because you are concerned with the attainment of an objective, not with the fulfillment of intelligence which is action; you are concerned with the arrival, not with that which is fulfillment itself. Living becomes merely the means to an end, and life a school in which you learn to attain an end. Action therefore becomes but a medium through which you can come to that objective which you have established through your various environments and conditions. So life becomes a school of great conflict and struggle, never a thing of fulfillment, of richness, of completeness. Then you begin to ask, what is the end, the purpose of living. This is what most people ask; this is what is in the minds of most people here. Why are we living? What is the end? What is the goal? What is the purpose? You are concerned with the purpose, with the end, rather than with living in the present; whereas a man who fulfills never inquires into the end because fulfilment itself is sufficient. But as you do not know how to fulfil, how to live completely, richly, sufficiently, you begin to inquire into the purpose, the goal, the end, because you think you can then meet life, knowing the end - at least you think you can know the end -then, knowing the end, you hope to use experience as a means towards that end; hence life becomes a medium, a measure, a value to come to that attainment. Consciously or unconsciously, surreptitiously or openly, one begins to inquire into the purpose of life, and each one receives an answer from the so-called specialists. The artist, if you ask him what is the purpose of life, will tell you that it is self-expression through painting, sculpture, music, or poetry; the economist, if you ask him, will tell you that it is work, production, co-operation, living together, functioning as a group, as society; and if you ask the religionist he will tell you the purpose of life is to seek and to realize God, to live according to the laws laid down by teachers, prophets, saviours, and that by living according to their laws and edicts you may realize that truth which is God. Each specialist gives you his answer about the purpose of life, and according to your temperament, fancies and imagination you begin to establish these purposes, these ends, as your ideals. Such ideals and ends have become merely a haven of refuge because you use them to guide and protect yourself in this turmoil. So you begin to use these ideals to measure your experiences, to inquire into the conditions of your environment. You begin, without the desire to understand or to fulfil, merely to inquire into the purpose of environment; and in discovering that purpose, according to your conditioning, your preconceptions, you merely avoid the conflict of living without understanding. So mind has divided life into ideals, purposes, culminations, attainments, ends; and turmoil, conflict, disturbance, disharmony; and you, yourself, the self-consciousness. That is, mind has separated life into these three divisions. You are caught up in turmoil and so through this turmoil, this conflict, this disturbance which is but sorrow, you work towards an end, a purpose. You wade through, plough through this turmoil to the goal, to the end, to the haven of refuge, to the attainment of the ideal; and these ideals, ends, refuges have been designed by economic, religious and spiritual experts. Thus you are, at one end, wading through conditions and environment, and creating conflict while trying to realize ideals, purposes and attainments which have become refuges and shelters at the other. The very inquiry into the purpose of life indicates the lack of intelligence in the present; and the man who is fully active -not lost in activities, as most Americans are, but fully active, intelligently, emotionally, fully alive - has fulfilled himself. Therefore the inquiry into an end is futile, because there is no such thing as an end and a beginning; there is but the continual movement of creative thinking, and what you call problems are the results of your ploughing through this turmoil towards a culmination. That is, you are concerned with how to overcome this turmoil, how to adjust yourselves to environment in order to arrive at an end. With that your whole life is concerned, not with yourself and the goal. You are not concerned with that, you are concerned with the turmoil, how to go through it, how to dominate it, how to overcome it, and therefore how to evade it. You want to arrive at that perfect evasion which you call ideals, at that perfect refuge which you call the purpose of life, which is but an escape from the present turmoil. Naturally, when you seek to overcome, to dominate, to evade, and to arrive at that ultimate goal, there arises the search for systems and their leaders, guides, teachers, and experts; to me all these are exploiters. The systems, the methods, and their teachers, and all the complications of their rivalries, enticements, promises and deceits, create divisions in life known as sects and cults. That is what is happening. When you are seeking an attainment, a result, an overcoming of the turmoil, and not considering the "you", the "I" consciousness, and the end which you are ceaselessly and consciously, or unconsciously, pursuing, naturally you must create exploiters, either of the past or the present; and you are caught up in their pettinesses, their jealousies, their disciplines, their disharmonies and their divisions. So the mere desire to go through this turmoil ever creates further problems, for there is no consideration of the actor or the manner of his action, but merely the consideration of the scene of turmoil as a means to get to an end. Now to me, the turmoil, the end, and the "you" are the same; there is no division. This division is artificial, and it is created by the desire to gain, by the pursuit of acquisitive accumulation, which is born of insufficiency. In becoming conscious of emptiness, of shallowness, one begins to realize the utter insufficiency of one's own thinking and feeling, and so in one's thought there arises the idea of accumulation, and from that is born this division between "you", the self-consciousness, and the end. To me, as I said, there can be no such distinction, because the moment you fulfil there can no longer be the actor and the act, but only that creative movement of thought which does not seek a result, and so there is a continual living, which is immortality. But you have divided life. Let us consider what this "I", this actor, this observer, this centre of conflict is. It is but a long, continuous scroll of memory. I have discussed memory very carefully in my previous talks, and I cannot go into details now. If you are interested, you will read what I have said. This "I" is a scroll of memory in which there are accentuations. These accentuations or depressions we call complexes, and from these we act. That is, mind, being conscious of insufficiency, pursues a gain and therefore creates a distinction, a division. Such a mind cannot understand environment, and as it cannot understand it, it must rely on the accumulation of memory for guidance; for memory is but a series of accumulations which act as a guide towards an end. That is the purpose of memory. Memory is the lack of comprehension; that lack of comprehension is your background, and from that proceeds your action. This memory is acting as a guide towards an end, and that end, being pre-established, is merely a self-protective refuge which you call ideals, attainment, truth, God or perfection. The beginning and the end, the "you" and the goal, are the results of this self-protective mind. I have explained how a self-protective mind comes into being; it comes into being as the result of the consciousness or awareness of emptiness, of void. Therefore it begins to think in terms of achievement, acquisition, and from that it begins to function, dividing life and restricting its actions. So the end and the "you" are the result of this self-protective mind; and turmoil, conflict and disharmony are but the process of self-protection, and are born out of this self-protection, spiritual and economic. Spiritually and economically you are seeking security, because you rely on accumulation for your richness, for your comprehension, for your fullness, for your fulfillment. And so the cunning, in the spiritual as well as in the economic world, exploit you, for both seek power by glorifying self-protection. So each mind is making a tremendous effort to protect itself, and the end, the means, and the"you" are nothing else but the process of self-protection. What happens when there is this process of self-protection? There must be conflict with circumstances, which we call society; there is the "you" trying to protect itself against the collective, the group, the society. Now, the reverse of that isn't true. That is, don't think that if you cease to protect yourself you will be lost. On the contrary, you will be lost if you are protecting yourself due to the insufficiency, due to shallowness of thought and affection. But if you merely cease to protect yourself because you think through that you are going to find truth, again it will be but another form of protection. So, as we have built up through centuries, generation after generation, this wheel of self-protection, spiritual and economic, let us find out if spiritual or economic self-protection is real. Perhaps economically you may assert self-protection for awhile. The man who has money and many possessions, and who has secured comforts and pleasures for his body, is generally, if you will observe, most insufficient and unintelligent, and is groping after so-called spiritual protection. Let us inquire however if there really is spiritual self-protection, because economically we see there is no security. The illusion of economic security is shown throughout the world by these depressions, crises, wars, calamities, and chaos. We recognize this, and so turn to spiritual security. But to me there is no security, there is no self-protection, and there never can be any. I say there is only wisdom, which is understanding, not protection. That is, security, self-protection, is the outcome of insufficiency, in which there is no intelligence, in which there is no creative thinking, in which there is constant battle between the"you" and society, and in which the cunning exploit you ruthlessly. As long as there is the pursuit of self-protection there must be conflict, and so there can be no understanding, no wisdom. And as long as this attitude exists, your search for spirituality, for truth, or for God is vain, useless, because it is merely the search for greater power, greater security. It is only when the mind, which has taken shelter behind the walls of self-protection, frees itself from its own creations that there can be that exquisite reality. After all, these walls of self-protection are the creations of the mind which, conscious of its insufficiency, builds these walls of protection, and behind them takes shelter. One has built up these barriers unconsciously or consciously, and one's mind is so crippled, bound, held, that action brings greater conflict, further disturbances. So the mere search for the solution of your problems is not going to free the mind from creating further problems. As long as this centre of self-protectiveness, born of insufficiency, exists, there must be disturbances, tremendous sorrow and pain; and you cannot free the mind of sorrow by disciplining it not to be insufficient. That is, you cannot discipline yourself, or be influenced by conditions and environment, in order not to be shallow. You say to yourself, "I am shallow; I recognize the fact, and how am I going to get rid of it?" I say, do not seek to get rid of it, which is merely a process of substitution, but become conscious, become aware of what is causing this insufficiency. You cannot compel it; you cannot force it; it cannot be influenced by an ideal, by a fear, by the pursuit of enjoyment and powers. You can find out the cause of insufficiency only through awareness. That is, by looking into environment and piercing into its significance there will be revealed the cunning subtleties of self-protection. After all, self-protection is the result of insufficiency, and as the mind has been trained, caught up in its bondage for centuries, you cannot discipline it, you cannot overcome it. If you do, you lose the significance of the deceits and subtleties of thought and emotion behind which mind has taken shelter; and to discover these subtleties you must become conscious, aware. Now to be aware is not to alter. Our mind is accustomed to alteration which is merely modification, adjustment, becoming disciplined to a condition; whereas if you are aware, you will discover the full significance of the environment. Therefore there is no modification, but entire freedom from that environment. Only when all these walls of protection are destroyed in the flame of awareness, in which there is no modification or alteration or adjustment, but complete understanding of the significance of environment with all its delicacies and subtleties - only through that understanding is there the eternal; because in that there is no "you" functioning as a self-protective focus. But as long as that self-protecting focus which you call the "I" exists, there must be confusion, there must be disturbance, disharmony and conflict. You cannot destroy these hindrances by disciplining yourself or by following a system or by imitating a pattern; you can understand them with all their complications only through the full awareness of mind and heart. Then there is an ecstasy, there is that living movement of truth, which is not an end, not a culmination, but an ever creative living, an ecstasy which cannot be described, because all description must destroy it. So long as you are not vulnerable to truth, there is no ecstasy, there is no immortality. NEW YORK CITY 1ST PUBLIC TALK 11TH MARCH, 1935 Friends, Most of us are trying to solve our many difficulties and problems within the artificial distinction which we have created between the group and the individual. Now, to me, such a distinction as the individual, opposed to the group, perverts and destroys clarity of thought, and such perversion will lead, naturally, to many repressions and exaggerations between the individual and the group. As we search for ways and means out of this chaos, clever and complicated methods and solutions are offered, and each individual chooses the solution according to his particular idiosyncrasy, depending on his social upbringing and religious fancies. I do not want to add, to those already existing, any new theories or explanations. To me, the real solution of our problems is through intelligence, which must be direct, simple; when there is such intelligence we can then understand life as a whole. Now, this intelligence is not to be awakened by following any group or any system or by obeying one's own particular idiosyncrasies and fancies. To awaken true intelligence we must first inquire into the many stupidities which cripple the mind and heart, and not seek a definition of intelligence; because, when we find out what the stupidities are and free the mind from them through constant awareness, we shall then be able to know for ourselves what true intelligence is. In finding out for ourselves the limitations environment has placed about us and in discerning its true significance and thus sloughing off the stupidities, we shall begin to realize what is true intelligence. The expression of that intelligence in action is immortality; it is the blessedness of living in the present. You have many ideas concerning completeness of life and immortality. But, to me, this immortality, this richness, this completeness of life can only be understood and lived when the mind is wholly free from the limitations, the stupidities, that environment, past and present, inherited or acquired, is continually placing about us. So please do not, if I may suggest, look to me for new explanations during this talk, or for a set of formulas, or definitions. Such explanations and formulas offer only means of escape from conflict. Most minds desire to copy, imitate, follow, because they cannot think for themselves, or else the conflict is so intense that they would rather escape through systems, through definitions, through explanations. It is only by continually being aware of the environment and the imposition of its ever increasing stupidities, it is only by constantly questioning these, that we stop the escapes, and come face to face with conflict, which gives us the capacity to understand environment intelligently. What I want to explain during this talk is how we create stupidities; without understanding this continual, unconscious creation, the mere inquiry into what is intelligence gives us but another escape. So, our whole inquiry should be directed towards what is stupidity and its cause, rather than towards what is intelligence. As I said, until we try to free the mind from those stupidities which environment, past and present, has created about us, and by which it is crippling our action, until we perceive them and understand their true significance, until then our inquiry into intelligence is but futile. The purpose of my talk is to help you to find out what are the stupidities and how you can be free of them. Now, each expert, each authority, each sect, each party, offers a way out of this increasing conflict which we know exists. Each puts forward an idea, a theory, a method for the solution of this terrifying tangle. We can divide, I think, these theorists, or the people who give explanations, into two kinds: those who are turned outward, and those turned inward. The man who is turned outward says that all human problems can be solved by controlling environment. That is, he says human thought can be changed, altered, controlled, through organization, whether of work or of the means of production and distribution, and so forth. He regards man as clay, to be conditioned by environment, and so by the controlling of that environment and in the perfecting of the group, the individual will have an opportunity to express himself. That is, he will no longer be antisocial because, being mere clay to be conditioned, his environment can be controlled and so his ambitions, his outlook, his desires will never be opposed to the group and be antisocial. Man then will be conditioned according to a new set of ideas and theories so that he can never come, as an individual, into conflict with the group or with society. If you think that man is nothing else than matter to be conditioned, to be shaped, to be controlled, then there is nothing more to be said. Then life is very simple. Let us all, then, work for the mere perfection of environment, following a certain set of theories and ideas, and be conditioned by them. Now, I am not against or for this point of view. I want to go into it more fully. If man is merely a social entity and if altering circumstances and environment and creating in him the habit of seeking the well-being of the group alone so that he shall not be antisocial - if that is all, then, it seems to me, life becomes very shallow, a series of unfulfilled, superficial actions. Also, you have the man turned inward, who says that life is nothing but spirit. Leave it, he says, to the highest in man and let him follow that highest, as shown by the teachers, by the various philosophical systems; let him become more religious, let him follow the great leaders, let him have discipline, enter spiritual organizations and obey spiritual authority, and be guided through fear, so that he will eventually conquer circumstances, environment. Thus you have the exaggerations of the man who is turned outward and the exaggerations of the man who is turned inward: the person who says that man is nothing more than clay and therefore to be ever conditioned; and the other, the man turned inward, the so-called spiritual man who insists first on the change of heart. So you have these two types. Emphasis or exaggeration of the one or the other destroys its own end. The man who says environment first and the man who says spirit first, each through his exaggerations and his false emphasis, will destroy his own ends. Whereas to me the solution, or rather the manner of thought, the true awakening of intelligence which alone can resolve the innumerable conflicts and problems, social and individual, lies in the perfect equilibrium between the two, beyond and above the two, and that equilibrium is the simple and the direct way. To study the various systems, philosophic as well as economic, to study them all thoroughly so as to be able to compare, requires great effort, and few have the time, the capacity, or the inclination, to penetrate through their complicated reasoning and theories. And what happens when you haven't time to inquire into the explanations of innumerable competing experts? You choose one whom you like, who you think is reasonable; and as you haven't the time to go into his system thoroughly, you merely accept his authority. Greater the expert, greater the authority, greater the following. So, gradually the followers became blind and merely accept dogmas, and the leaders destroy the followers and the followers in turn destroy the leaders. Gradually we create another set of stupidities based on a new set of dogmas which were originally theories and we become slaves to them. Now, to me, theories are of very little value; because a man who is constantly in conflict with environment, both the past and the present, is continually discerning, penetrating, trying to understand, and therefore he is living completely in the present. To such a man there is no need for theories or explanations. But that requires great persistency of thought, great awareness, great penetration into the true significance of ever changing environment. As the majority of people cannot do that, they accept theories which become their masters, facts, realities. Naturally, this also applies to religious experts whom we regard as our spiritual guides. Now take religion, that is, religion as an organized belief, and you will see that the authority of the expert is supreme. The pattern is set out and you are forced through the pressure of public opinion, through fear, and so forth, to follow. This worship of authority, this worship of the expert without knowing his limitations is, to me, the very root of exploitation. So, the whole process of living, which should be a continual fulfillment and therefore a continual penetration into reality, into what is true, is completely destroyed through this worship of authority, of specialists, of creeds, of theories. The whole process is to make the individual subservient, to make him obey and follow. Thus he gradually becomes unconscious of everything but the pattern, and he exists as much as he can within the edicts of that pattern, and he calls that living. Environment becomes only the mould to shape him. So, then, the individual, as he is now, is nothing else than the exaggerated expression of environ- ment, environment being the past and the present, the inherited and the acquired. To me, this is not true individuality. Through the understanding of the significance of environment, past and present, and therefore being free from it, intelligence is awakened, and the expression of that intelligence is true individuality. Now, you are conditioned by environment. You are the result of your past and present environment, and what you express, calling it individuality or self-expression, is nothing but the expression of that conditioning environment. To me, the true expression of individuality is that intelligence which is awakened through freeing the mind from the conditioning environment of the past and the present. The next thing we have to find out is whether any system can help to awaken this intelligence. Or does it merely impose another set of stupidities, further limitations? Because, if we can find a perfect system, then we can give ourselves over to it and become intelligent. To me, systems are but the crystallization of thought, and the group is but the expression of that thought. Can they, these crystallized thoughts, by your following them, awaken intelligence? Or have you to begin, not considering yourself as an individual, or as a group, to discern for yourself the stupidities created through the false division of the group and the individual; that is, not considering yourself as an individual, or as a group, to think anew, to think from the very beginning so as to be able to grasp the true significance of each environment, each limitation? Because, if we cannot be so active emotionally and mentally, apart from a system, the mere following of a system and being active in it does not awaken intelligence. Now, such intelligence, when it is awakened, can truly cooperate, not with stupidities but with other intelligences. Take, for instance, what is happening with regard to war. To understand the whole question of war we must think from the very beginning, not from the nationalistic, racial, class point of view. Inherently, war is wrong. There is no excuse for war as long as there is intelligence functioning. But, as we are mostly ruled by politicians, exploiters, and by such kind, we are forced into one war after another, and many reasons are given for the unavoidability and the necessity of wars. As long as you do not think clearly, fundamentally, from the very beginning, with regard to this question, one day you will be for peace and the next day you will be for war, because you have not discovered for yourself fundamentally the appalling cruelties, the racial hatreds, the exploitations which create war. Only when there is an awakened intelligence, not only on your part but on the part of politicians, the rulers, will there be peace. To discover what is true one requires great intelligence. Intelligence, to me, is not book knowledge. You may be very learned and yet be stupid. You may read many philosophies and yet not know the bliss of creative thinking, which can exist only when the mind and heart begin to free themselves through conflict, through constant awareness, from the stupidities of the past and from those that are being built up. Then only is there the ecstasy of that which is true. Can anyone else tell you what is true? Can anyone tell you what is God? No one can; you have to discover it for yourself. So, to find out what is true, what is the significance of life, what is immortality, without which life becomes a chaotic triviality, a senseless, blind suffering, you must have intelligence; and to awaken that intelligence you must strip the mind and heart of stupidities. The first cause of stupidity is that consciousness which clings to the particular and therefore creates the distinction between the group and itself, that consciousness whose very essence is the thought of acquisitiveness, of "mine". This limited consciousness is the very root and cause of stupidity, suffering. One of its manifestations is the constant craving for security, security in the realm of one's entire being, physically, emotionally, and mentally. In search of that security there is bound to be conflict between what we call the individual and the group, the exaggerations of the individual as against the group, leading to constant friction, struggle, and suffering. You can see that this search for physical security expresses itself in possessions, with all its cruelties, exploitations, and the rather terrifying stupidities such as nationalism, class wars, racial hatred. Also, emotionally, love has become but possessiveness. It has lost its creative ecstasy. It is a series of possessive conflicts. Its tenderness, its great depths, its eternal quality, its profound ecstasy are destroyed through this desire to hold. Then there is the mental craving for certainty. That is why there is the worship of authority, the worship of teachers. That is why the incessant demand for the ultimate, so that your mind can cling to it. That is why your constant inquiry into truth, into God; and the man who assures you of the certainty of God, of truth, of immortality, you worship, as it gives you comfort, security. Gradually this demand for security destroys intelligence. Mind, through experience, accumulates carefully guarded and self-defensive securities, memories, which prevent constant adjustment to the eternal movement of life. Experience is most of the time creating securities, self-defensive memories, and with this barrier you meet life, which must inevitably bring conflict and suffering. This does not mean that you must forget the past. What I want to explain is that, as physically we seek security, so mentally we seek to move from uncertainty to certainty, which in turn becomes uncertain, in which there is never a moment of complete, inescapable aloneness. I assure you, when there is complete nakedness, utter hopelessness, then in that moment of vital insecurity there is born the flame of supreme intelligence, the bliss of truth. In the search for security there arises fear, which begets many illusions, false disciplines, repressions, perversions, the fear of death and the inquiry into the hereafter. Why are so many interested in the hereafter? Because life here is so superficial, so conditioned by environment, so conflicting, chaotic, unreasonable, without joy, without ecstasy; hence they look to the future, and from this arises the inquiry into the hereafter. Immortality is a continual becoming, not of that consciousness which we call the "I", but of that intelligence which is freed from the particular as well as from the group, from that consciousness which creates distinctions. That is, when the mind is stripped of all illusion or ignorance it is able to discern the infinite present. It is a thing which you cannot explain, you cannot reason about. It is beyond all argument. It has to be experienced. It has to be lived. It demands great persistency and constant purposefulness. Now this seems to me to be the state of the world. The chaos caused by the conflict of many theories leads to stupid practices and divisions; and, as time passes, we are merely accumulating knowledge of theories, increasing bitter divisions, creating mass movements for conflicting experiments, and in this conflict in which we are immersed, intelligence, which is the true expression and mode of life, is wholly forgotten. This is the state of the world about us. What should be our action? What should be our attitude, our thought? Are you going to wait for the perfection of environment through revolution, through economic changes, through political upheaval? This waiting is but an escape, this looking to the future is but another escape through hope, it is but a postponement. Or, will you, not considering yourselves as individuals or as groups, begin to think anew, from the very beginning, thus shaking off the many stupidities that have become virtues, the many things you have taken for granted, accepted, so that in the true simplicity and directness of thought, which is supreme intelligence, there may come the fruition of action? Which are you going to do: wait for the future, hoping that environment will be perfected through some miracle, through someone else's action; or become so intensely aware, through your own conflict with environment in which there is no possibility of escape, that there is completeness of action? For most people this is the problem: merely to wait, marking time; or to be able to discern the true significance of life with its conflicts and sorrows, and not create a new set of stupidities, a new set of illusions, and therefore to live directly and simply. The one leads to utter disorder, superficiality, boredom, to such superficial lives as most people lead, whether in the intensity of work or in the lack of work. The other, to the ecstasy of immortality. Everywhere there is a despair, waiting for some action, waiting for governments to change conditions. And, in the meantime, your own lives are becoming more and more superficial, shallow, with all the inanities of modern society and the inanities of the so-called spiritual people. As I said in the very beginning of my talk, intelligence is the only solution that will bring about harmony in this world of conflict, harmony between mind and heart in action. No system, the mere alteration of environment, is ever going to free man from ignorance and illusion, which are the cause of suffering. You yourself, through your own awareness, in your own completeness, can discern the true significance of these many limiting barriers. This alone will bring about lasting intelligence, which shall reveal immortality. NEW YORK CITY 2ND PUBLIC TALK 13TH MARCH, 1935 Friends, Before answering some of the questions that have been sent to me, I should like to say that what I have been saying and what I am going to say is not a new intellectual toy, not a new set of theories over which we can wrangle for mere mental stimulation; nor is it meant to give a new sensation to an already jaded emotion. The true significance and depth of its meaning is to be discovered only when you experiment with it; otherwise it will have no value in a world where there is constant conflict. To make an experiment, one has to begin with oneself. After all, you cannot begin experimenting with somebody else. You won't know either the result or the significance of that experiment if you do not test it out for yourself. So instead of considering your neighbour, you should begin to find out how to experiment truly with yourself. To help the world one must begin with oneself. If one can truly experiment with oneself so that there is a continual adjustment, not the adjustment to a stereotyped self-discipline, not the blind following of a pattern, not the ceaseless practice of an idea, then such an experiment in living will bring about a significant change in action, in conduct, in one's whole being. I would suggest that instead of considering superficially the ideas that I put forward, you experiment with them to see whether they have any practical value in your daily life. Most of us are nurtured in certain prejudices, traditions, and fears, forced by environment to follow and to obey, and through that background we think and act. This background has become an unconscious part of us, and from this unconscious centre we start thinking, feeling and acting. All our actions, springing from that limitation of the mind and heart, naturally become more and more limited, more and more narrow, more and more conditioned. Thus the unconscious being, those habitual thoughts and feelings which we haven't questioned or understood, is continually perverting, interfering with and darkening the conscious actions. If we do not understand and so become free from that background with which we have grown up, naturally those preju- dices, those fears will be continually interfering with and conditioning the conscious. Consciousness is action, is discernment. So our action is continually being limited, being conditioned through fear, through tradition. Instead of liberating us, freeing us, action but increases our conflict, our problems, and so living becomes but a series of conflicts, a series of struggles. To escape from these struggles, we have created certain illusions, as releases, which have become realities to us. That is, we have innumerable problems and conflicts, and in order to escape from them we have established certain regular, acknowledged releases. These releases are organized religion, acquisitiveness, establishing and following a tradition, and the many escapes through sensation. If you are aware of your actions, you will notice that this is what is happening to most of you, that you are functioning through an established background of tradition, or of fear, and therefore increasing your conflict, your struggles. Instead of freeing yourselves, through action, you establish various releases or escapes, and these become so real, so demanding, that the mind finds it immensely difficult to free itself from them. To free yourselves from the cause of increasingly limited action, that is, from the unconscious, is not to dig into the past, but to become aware in action in the present. Instead of looking to see if you are slaves to tradition, to fear, to prejudice, become fully aware in your action, and in that flame of awareness the cause of limitation, such as fear, will reveal itself. That is, if you are fully awakened, fully aware in an action which demands your complete being, then you will perceive that all these hidden, unconscious perversions spring forth and prevent your acting fully, completely. Then is the time to deal with them, and if the flame of awareness is intense, that flame consumes these limiting causes. Instead of following a pattern, a well-laid line of action, which, again, is bound to cripple thought and emotion, if one can be fully aware in the moment of action, and this can only be when thought and feeling are intense, then the hidden and unexplored depths of one's consciousness reveal themselves; whereas if you merely examine the unconscious through self-analysis, you will find that your actions become more and more restricted, more and more superficial, therefore losing their significance, their depth, and so life becomes shallow and empty. If you begin to be aware, to deal with a question integrally, as a whole, completely, then you will see how into your mind will creep all the various conditioning, defensive thoughts, inherited or acquired. Then you will discover -if you really experiment with it - that the mind and heart are not in conflict, do not contradict each other, but are the very fountain, the source of that which you are seeking, that creative ecstasy, truth. Instead of seeking peace, happiness, or trying to find out what truth or immortality is, or if there is a God, if, in the flame of awareness, the mind and heart can free themselves from fear, prejudice, perversions, conditioning causes, then that consciousness is the real ecstasy of life, of truth. Question: What should one do to get rid of loneliness and fear? Krishnamurti: First let us discover what we now do, and then we can inquire what we should do. If we are lonely, what do we do? We try to escape from loneliness through companionship, through work, amusement, worship, prayer, all the well known and cunningly well established escapes. Why do we do that? We think that we can cover up loneliness by these escapes, through these releases. Can we ever cover up a thing that is inherently diseased? We may momentarily cover up loneliness, but it continues all the time. So, where there is escape, there must be the continuance of loneliness. For loneliness there is no substitution. If we can understand this with all our being, completely, if we can understand that there is no possibility of escape from loneliness, from fear, then what happens? Most of you will not be able to answer, because you have never completely faced the problem. You don't know what would happen if all the avenues of escape had been completely blocked up and there were not the least possibility of escape. I suggest that you experiment with it. When you are lonely, be fully aware and you will see that your mind wants to run away, wants to escape. When the mind is aware that it is escaping and at the same time perceives the absurdity of escape, in that understanding loneliness truly disappears. Please, when you are confronted with a problem and there is no possibility of a way out, then the problem ceases, which does not mean an acceptance of it. Now, you are seeking a remedy for loneliness, a substitution, and therefore the problem is not the significance of loneliness but, what is the remedy for loneliness, what is the best way to escape from it or to cover it up. But when the mind is no longer seeking an escape, then loneliness or fear has a very different significance. Now, you cannot accept my word for it: all you can say is that you do not know. You do not know whether loneliness and fear will disappear, but by experimenting you will understand the whole significance of loneliness. If we merely seek a remedy for loneliness or fear, we become very superficial, don't we? To the man who has everything he wants, or the man who wants everything, life becomes very shallow. In merely seeking remedies, life becomes meaningless, empty; whereas, if you are really confronted with a burning problem and there is no possible way of escape, then you will see that that problem does a miraculous thing to you. It is no longer merely a problem; it is intensely vital, it is to be examined, to be lived with, to be understood. Question: Do you think one should compromise in everyday life? Krishnamurti: Do you think there is a possibility of a compromise between war and peace? That is, if you really think that war, killing for any patriotic reason or for any other reason, is fundamentally wrong, do you think you could compromise with regard to creating or taking part in a war? In the same way, between acquisitiveness and non-acquisitiveness, do you think there can be any compromise? There is compromise if at one moment you are acquisitive and the next moment you are non-acquisitive. If one is not acquisitive, if one is not really pursuing acquisitiveness, if one is not driven by it, then there is no compromise. But, when you are possessive and are being driven by circumstances, by ideas and ideals, to be non-acquisitive, then you begin to compromise, then you begin to search out the best and least harmful way to compromise. If you are truly free from acquisitiveness, though you may live in this world of possessions, there is no compromise. You have to find out whether you are acquisitive. This is very simple. To do this, do not begin to analyze your actions, which only leads to the limitation of action, but be fully aware in the moment of action itself. Time will not give you freedom from acquisitiveness. That is, you cannot learn non-acquisitiveness through postponement into a future; you can become free from acquisitiveness only in the present, and not eventually. You can only discern its significance now, instantly. But, as we do not want to discern this immediately, we say, deceiving ourselves, that we shall learn non-acquisitiveness later on, through the years to come. In the present only can we understand the stupidity of acquisitiveness, and not in the future. The freedom from acquisitiveness is not the result of slow evolutionary growth of the mind and heart. A friend of mine became a priest some ten years ago. He said to me the other day that it had taken him ten years to see the foolishness of his act. I wondered whether it had; or was it that he was so carried away by his desires, by his emotions, by his fears, by traditions, that he was not able to think clearly then, and he began to think clearly only when he was disillusioned? What happened was that he was emotionally carried away and influenced by fear, by authority, by tradition. Had he been fully aware at the moment of his decision, he would not have taken ten years to discover the foolishness of that act. The question is: Should there be compromise? Naturally there is compromise when you are acquisitive and at the same time do not want to be acquisitive. In that conflict of the opposites there must be compromise. There is no solution to that, and when life becomes a continual conflict between the opposites, then it is a meaningless and a stupid struggle. But if you truly discern the whole significance of acquisitiveness, then in that freedom there is richness, the enduring beauty of life. Question: You say that memory is a barrier. Why? Krishnamurti: Anything that we perceive directly, understand completely, leaves no scar on the mind. If you live in an experience wholly, although you may recall the incident, it will not produce those reactions which you use for your self-defense. If I have an experience whose significance I do not completely understand, then mind but becomes a centre of conflict and this conflict continues till I understand that experience wholly. As long as the mind is burdened with these conflicts, it is but a storehouse of defensive reactions, called memories, and with such protective memories we approach life, thus creating a barrier between life and ourselves, from which ensues all conflict, fear and suffering. This is what we are doing most of the time. Instead of being in that state of creative emptiness, mind becomes merely a storehouse of defensive memories. This bundle of defensive reactions we call the "I", that limited consciousness. With that limited consciousness, which is but a series of self-protective, invulnerable layers of memories, you approach life and all its experiences. Experiences, instead of dissipating these many layers and so releasing the creative force of life, merely create and add further defensive memories, and so life becomes a continued conflict, confusion and suffering. Instead of being completely vulnerable to life, being completely empty - not in the negative sense of the word - being wholly without self-defense, mind has become a machine of warning, of guiding, to protect and defend itself. To me, such self-protective, defensive memories are fundamental barriers, for they prevent the complete fruition of life, which alone is truth. Consider for yourself how your mind is not vulnerable. Complete vulnerability is wisdom. When you have an experience, observe what happens. All your prejudices, your memories, your defensive responses come forward and tell you how to act, how to conduct yourself. So already you have made up your mind how to deal with the new, the fresh. After all, to understand truth, God, the unknown, or whatever name you care to give to it, mind and heart must come unprepared, insecure. In the vitality of insecurity, there is the eternal. In protecting yourselves, you have built up cunning securities, certainties, subtle memories, and it requires great intelligence to free yourselves from them. You cannot brush them aside or try to forget them. You can discover these barriers only, in the full awareness of action itself. Your listening to me must also be an experience. If you are at all interested and alive to what I am saying, you will see that you are meeting it with all kinds of objections. You do not approach openly, with a desire to find out, to experiment. It is only when the mind and heart are pliable, alert, and are not slaves to theories, certainties, assurances, that you begin to discover the barriers of memories as self-protective, defensive reaction. These scars which we call memories continually come between the movement of life, which is eternal, and ourselves, causing conflict, suffering. Question: How can I awaken intelligence? Krishnamurti: Why do you want to awaken intelligence? Can you really awaken intelligence, or does the mind strip itself of the many stupidities and thus find itself to be intelligence? Please see the significance of the question. The questioner wants to know what he should do to awaken intelligence. He wants to know the method, the manner, the technique. When the mind desires to know how, it is really seeking a definite system, and then it becomes a slave to that system. Whereas, if you begin to discover for yourself what are stupidities, then the mind becomes exquisitely, delicately alert. It is in discovering and understanding what are the stupidities and in eschewing them that there is the awakening of true intelligence. When you ask, how is one to awaken intelligence, you are really demanding rules and regulations, so that you can force your mind along a particular groove. This you would call a positive way of dealing with life, to tell you exactly what to do. It is really a negation of thought, making you a slave to a certain system. Whereas, if you truly were beginning to be aware of your environment, past and present, of your own thought, your own actions, then in discovering what is stupid, you would awaken true intelligence. Definitions of intelligence tend to enslave the mind and heart. We can find out for ourselves what are stupidities. One need not give a whole list of them. We must discover for ourselves the true cause of stupidity. If we can do that, then we need not take an inventory of stupidities. What is the cause of stupidity? All thought, emotion and action springing from the limited consciousness, the "I", gives rise to stupidity. So long as mind is merely a self-defensive, acquisitive entity, any action springing from that must lead to confusion and suffering. Question: What exactly do you mean by environment? Krishnamurti: There is an outer environment, as the country, the place, the class and so on; then there is the inward environment of tradition, of ideas inherited and acquired. So we can divide environment as external and inward, but there is not really such a definite division, as the two are closely interwoven. Take for example a person born in India. He is brought up in a certain religious system, with many beliefs, with caste prejudices, with social and economic advantages and disabilities, and so on. With this inherited background, he develops further conditioning of mind and heart. He not only has inherited from his parents, from his religion, from his country and from his race, a certain conditioning, but also he is adding to that his own reactions, his own memories, prejudices, based on his inherited background. There is with him all the time the background of prejudices, inherited and acquired, thoughts, inherited and acquired, fears, desires, cravings, hopes, memories. All that constitutes environment. With that background, with that conditioned mind, he approaches life, he tries to understand this constant movement of life. That is, from a fixed point he attempts to meet life, that is eternally beckoning. Naturally then there must be conflict between that fixed point and that thing which is ever living, moving. Where there is conflict, there is the desire for release, escape; and religion becomes but one of the defensive reactions against intelligence. Religions, class consciousness, acquisitiveness, all these but become the avenues of escape, the shelters from the conflict which ensues between that fixed point of prejudice, memories, fears, the limited consciousness, the "I", and the movement of life. There can be true understanding, real joy of living, only when there is complete unity, or when there is no longer the fixed point, that is, when mind and heart can follow freely and swiftly the wanderings of life, of truth. In that there is ecstasy. That is immortality. As long as one has not discerned the true significance of environment, mind and heart are held to that fixed point of limited consciousness. From this there arises conflict and sorrow, the constant battle between that fixed point and the eternal movement of life. From this there is born a defensive reaction against life, against intelligence. Life becomes a series of conflicts and releases; you have so com- pletely surrounded yourself with these illusions, with these escapes, that to you they have become realities from which you hope to have happiness and peace, but they can never give this. Through continual awareness, through penetration, through constant alertness of mind, questioning, doubting, the walls of that fixed point of consciousness, that centre with its illusions, must be worn down. Then only is there immortality. To understand immortality, life, requires great intelligence, not some stupid mysticism. It requires ceaseless discernment, which can exist only when there is constant penetration, wearing away the walls of tradition, acquisitiveness, self-protective reactions. You may escape into some illusion which you call peace, immortality, God, but it will have no reality, for there will still be doubt, suffering. But what will free the mind and heart from sorrow, from illusions, is the full awareness of that eternal movement of life. This is to be discerned only when the mind is free from that centre, from that fixed centre of limited consciousness. NEW YORK CITY 3RD PUBLIC TALK 15TH MARCH, 1935 Friends, I want to give a brief talk before answering the questions, to explain something which perhaps may be difficult to understand. I will try to make it as simple and clear as possible. I think most of us are trying to find out what is true happiness, for without being intelligently happy, life becomes very superficial, futile, and rather dreary. And so, in search of what we call happiness, we go from one experience to another, from one belief to another, from one theory to another, until we find such beliefs, such ideas, as give us satisfaction. Now these satisfactions are but escapes. The very search for happiness must result in a series of escapes: it may be, as I said, through authority. through sensation, through the mere multiplication of experiences, and the increase of power. These escapes become standards or values by which we cover up conflict. After all, when you are conscious of conflict, there is disturbance which creates unhappiness; and to escape from that unhappiness you seek various experiences and develop certain values, standards, measures, which become your escape. So gradually you become unconscious of all except those standards, those patterns, and your life is nothing else man a living imitation of these values which you have established in your search for happiness. If you examine, you will see that your mind and heart are held in a series of standards or values. Being so bound, mind is always giving further values, establishing further standards, and is ever sitting in judgment. Until the mind frees itself from this continual process of attributing values, it is never fresh, new; never creatively empty, if I may use that word without being misunderstood. For in creative emptiness alone is there the birth of truth. Conflict, suffering, is the process of breaking up this habit of attributing values. You have a set of values established through experience, through tradition, and these values have become your guides; with these past standards and values you approach a fresh experience, which must naturally create a conflict. This suffering is nothing else than the breaking up of old values to which the mind clings. Now it is the very essence of stupidity to escape from conflict through a series of established values, or through forming a new set of values. The very essence of intelligence is to understand life or experience with an unburdened mind and heart, anew, afresh. Instead of meeting life without any preconceived demands, you come to it with a mind and heart already prejudiced, almost incapable of swift adjustment, quick pliability. The lack of this instantaneous discernment of the movement of life creates sorrow. Conflict is the indication of bondage, which cannot be conquered, but whose significance must be understood. All conquering of obstacles through a new set of values is but another form of escape. You might say that a mind which does not give values is really the mind of a primitive. It is true in one sense; the primitive meets life unconsciously, incompletely, without understanding its significance fully. But to meet life completely and to understand its significance fully, requires a mind that is unconditioned by the past, and this can come about only through intense awareness, through discernment. This demands, unlike the mind of the primitive, integrate action in the present without the urge of fear or the search for a reward. It is the intelligence of complete aloneness. It is only when the unburdened and vulnerable mind and heart meet life, the unknown, the immeasurable, that there is the ecstasy of truth. When the mind is not burdened with values, with memories, with preconceived beliefs, and is able to meet the unknown, in that meeting there is born wisdom, the bliss of the present. So conflict is the very process of awakening man to full consciousness; and if we are not continually aware, we create a series of escapes which we call values, though they may be changing, and through those values we try to find happiness. Values become the medium of escape. A mind that is in conflict and meets it without trying to interpret that conflict according to certain values becomes fully, completely aware. Then that mind and that heart shall awaken to the reality of life, the bliss of the present. Question: Do you advocate renunciation and self-abnegation as a means of finding personal happiness? Krishnamurti: Personal happiness does not exist. So there are no means to it. There is only the creative ecstasy of life, whose expressions are many. This idea of sacrifice, renunciation, self-abnegation, is false. You think that happiness is to be found through giving up certain things, following certain actions. So you are really trading in, exchanging your sacrifice, your abnegation, for happiness. There is no abnegation or renunciation, but only understanding; and in that there is creative happiness which is not personal, individualistic. Let me put it differently. I begin to accumulate because I think happiness lies through accumulation, but I find at the end of a certain time that possession does not bring me happiness. Therefore I begin to renounce possessions and try to possess and pursue abnegation; which is only another form of acquisitiveness. But if I discern the inherent significance of possessiveness, then in that there is creative happiness. Question: Isn't it true that the essential can be found in all the phases of life, in everything? Krishnamurti: I do not think that there is the essential or the unessential. What is the essential? What is the unessential? One day I want a thing and that becomes the most essential, the most important, and in the very possession of it, it has become the un, essential. Then I want some other thing; and so I go on, moving from one essential which becomes the unessential, to another essential which in its turn becomes the unessential. In other words, where there is a craving there can never be lasting discernment. As most people are slaves to craving, they are in constant conflict of the essential and the unessential. From possessiveness merely of things, which no longer gives satisfaction, you move to mental and emotional possession of virtues, of truth, of God. From things, which were once essential, you have moved "forward" to abstraction. This abstraction becomes the essential. Can't we look at life, not from this point of view of the essential and the unessential, but from that which is intelligent, comprehensive? Why have we this division of the essential and the unessential, the important and the unimportant? Because we are always thinking in terms of acquisition, gain; but if we look at it from the point of view of understanding, then this division ceases, then we are meeting life continually as a whole. This is one of the most difficult things to do, because we have been and are being trained in religious and economic systems which impose certain sets of values. To a mind that is really not attributing values but is trying to live completely, without the desire of gain, to such a mind there are no degrees of changing values, and therefore there is no conflict between the impermanent and the permanent, between the stationary, and the constant movement of life. Question: It is all right for you to talk about fundamental things of life, but what about the ordinary man? Krishnamurti: What are we discussing? We are discussing, as far as I am concerned, how to live intelligently, and therefore divinely, humanly; not with this competitive, ruthless brutality of acquisitiveness, of exploitation, whether by a class or by a teacher, economic or religious. All this applies, naturally, to us all, that is to the ordinary man. I do not segregate myself from the average, from the ordinary man. People who are concerned about the ordinary man have separated themselves from him. They are concerned about the average man. Why? They say, "I can give up tradition, but what about the man in the street? If he gives it up, there will be chaos." So he must have a tradition, while the people who are concerned about him need not. Now if you are not thinking in terms of distinctions, either of class or of needs, if you discern the significance of a thing in itself, then you will help that man in the street to free himself without imposition from, let us say, tradition. That is, if you are convinced of the futility of tradition, if you see the significance of it, then you will naturally help the other without imposition, without exploitation. In understanding the fundamental things of life intelligently, you will help the other to extricate himself from this cruel chaos. If we, all of us here, really felt deeply about these things, really understood, we should act with intelligence. First, surely, one must begin with oneself. One must deal with the fundamental things because they are the simplest; and in a civilization that is becoming more and more complex, if we don't understand for ourselves these simple and fundamental things, we shall but add to the confusion, exploitation and ignorance. So what we are discussing applies to everyone, and as you have the opportunity, which, unfortunately, not everyone has, if you become conscious, aware, and begin to understand and therefore act, such action will help to dispel ignorance, the cause of suffering. Question: How can one cope with memory and the obsession of its pictures? Krishnamurti: First of all, by understanding how memory is formed, how it is created. Now, as I tried to explain the other day, memory is nothing else than incompleted action. I am not including in that the capacity to recall incidents. But memory is the residue, the scar of action which has not been completely lived or completely understood. Till that action is wholly understood, the memory of it or scar on the mind continues. The mind is mostly the residue or the scars of many incompleted, unfulfilled actions. If one is class conscious or if one is religiously prejudiced, naturally one cannot meet experience wholly, completely; one approaches it with this bias, which creates inevitably a conflict. As long as one does not understand the cause and the significance of that conflict, completely, wholly, there must be further scars or barriers as memories. In that conflict, if one merely escapes or seeks substitutions, then memory as a barrier must be continually perverting the completeness of understanding, which alone is the fulfillment of action. I hope I am not explaining it in very complicated language. For instance, suppose a man born in India has certain religious prejudices. With these perversions of thought, he approaches life. Naturally he does not discern its full significance, because he is always looking at life through these perversions, and therefore there must be conflict. From this he develops a series of self-defensive memories, barriers, which he calls values. Such defensive reactions must further pervert the comprehension of experience or of life. When one fully realizes that prejudice or any other perversion is continually corrupting, twisting, the fullness of understanding, then one begins to be aware; in that awareness one discovers the hindrances. It is only through the flame of awareness, through full consciousness, not through self-analysis, that one can discern the prejudices, the escapes, the self-defensive values which are continually twisting experience. In the very fullness of experience itself are the barriers against discernment to be discovered and understood, and not through intellectual self-analysis or self-dissection. If you are intensely aware in the fullness of experience, then you will see how the perversions, impediments, limitations, spring forth. If the mind and heart can free themselves from these values, which are but memories stored up for self-defensive purposes, that you have inherited or acquired, then life is an eternal becoming. But that requires, as I said, great purposefulness, an incessant inquiry into the cause and significance of suffering, conflict. If you are sitting at ease with life, or merely seeking satisfaction, the bliss of the eternal present is not for you. It is only in moments of great crisis, great conflict, that the mind frees itself from all these self-protective accumulations and accretions. Then only is there the ecstasy of life, truth. Question: If everyone gave up all possessions, as you suggest, what would happen to all business and the ordinary pursuits of life? Are not business and possessions necessary if we are to live in the world? Krishnamurti: I have never said give up. I have said that acquisitiveness is the cause of competition, of exploitation, of class distinctions, of wars and so on. Now if one discerns the real significance of possessiveness, whether of things or of people or of ideas, which is ultimately the craving for power in different forms, if the mind can free itself from that, then there can be intelligent happiness and well-being in the world. We have through many centuries built up a system of acquisitiveness, of possessiveness, seeking personal power and authority. Now as long as that exists in our hearts and minds, we may change the system momentarily through revolution, through crisis, through wars, but as long as that craving exists, it will inevitably lead, in another form, to the old system. And, as I said, the freedom from acquisitiveness is not to be learned eventually, through postponement; it must be discerned immediately, and that is where the difficulty lies. If we cannot see the falseness of possessiveness immediately, we shall then not be able individually, and therefore collectively, to have a different civilization, a different way of living. So my whole attack, if I may use that word, is not on any system, but on that desire for possessiveness, acquisitiveness, leading finally to power. You think now possessiveness gives happiness. But if you think about it deeply, you will see that this craving for power has no end. It is a continual struggle in which there is no cessation of conflict, suffering. But it is one of the most difficult things, to free the mind and heart from acquisitiveness. You know, in India we have certain people called sannyasis, who leave the world in search of truth. They have generally two loin cloths, the one they put on, and one for the next day. A sannyasi in search of truth, sought various teachers. In his wanderings he was told that a certain king was enlightened, that he was teaching wisdom. So this sannyasi went to the king. You can see the contrast between the king and the sannyasi: the king who had everything, palaces, jewels, courtiers, power; and the sannyasi who had only two loin cloths. The king instructed him concerning truth. One day, while the king was teaching him, the palace caught fire. Serenely the king continued with his teaching, while the sannyasi, that holy man, was greatly disturbed because his other loin cloth was burning. You know, you are all in that position. You may not be possessive with regard to clothes, houses, friends, but there is some hidden pursuit of gain to which you are attached, to which you cling, which is eating your hearts and minds away. As long as these unexplored, hidden poisons exist, there must be continual conflict, suffering. Question: You say that you are affiliated with no organization, yet obviously you are trying to make people think along certain lines. Can the world thought be changed without an organization whose purpose it is to bring your ideas constantly before the public? Krishnamurti: I wonder if I am making you think along a certain definite line. I hope not. I am trying to show that thinking is necessary, being in love is necessary; and to think deeply and to be greatly in love, you cannot have a storehouse of self-defensive reactions or memories. Surely when you are in love, you are vulnerable. If I am only making you think along certain lines, then please beware of me, because then I will force you and thus exploit you, and you will exploit me for your own various ends. What I am saying is that to live greatly, to think creatively, one must be completely open to life, without any self-protective reaction, as you are when you are in love. So you must be in love with life. This requires great intelligence, not information or knowledge, but that great intelligence which is awakened when you meet life openly, completely, when the mind and heart are utterly vulnerable to life, You ask, "Can the world thought be changed without an organization whose purpose it is to bring your ideas constantly before the public?" Naturally not, you must have an organization; that is obvious. So we need not discuss it. But when you talk about organization, I think you mean quite a different thing. To convert people to certain beliefs, to force them, to urge them through opinion, through pressure, to adopt a certain method, certain ideas -for that purpose most organizations are formed, not merely for printing books and distributing them. That is how all religions are formed. That is how the followers destroy the teachers, by making their teachings into absolute dogmas which become the authority for exploitation. For that purpose, organization of the wrong kind is necessary. Whereas, if you are interested in these ideas which I am explaining, you will naturally help to print and to distribute books, but without the desire to convert, to exploit. Question: Even after they have passed beyond the need of organized authority, most people are troubled with the inner conflict of choice between desire and fear. Can you explain how to distinguish, or what you consider true desire? Krishnamurti: Is there such a thing as true desire? The essential desire and the unessential desire? One day you want a hat, another day a car, and so on, satisfying your cravings. Yet another day you want to attain the highest truth or God. You pass through a whole series of desires. What is the essential in all this? Things are essential; love is essential; the understanding of truth is essential. So why separate desire into false and true, important and unimportant? Can't you look at it differently, meet desire intelligently? Your minds are so crippled with contradictory values that you cannot discern truly. I wonder if I am explaining this. Suppose you are possessive. Don't say to yourself, "Well, I have heard this afternoon that I mustn't be possessive, so I will get rid of that desire." Don't develop a contradictory resistance. If you are possessive, be completely and wholly aware of it; then you will see what happens. The mind must free itself from this contradictory desire, the comparative desire which is really a self-protective reaction against suffering; then you will discern the whole significance of acquisitiveness. You can only understand acquisitiveness, or any other problem, in its isolation, not by bringing it into comparison, into opposition. When there is no contradictory or opposite desire, then only is there the discernment of the true significance of desire. The continual contradiction in desire creates fear, and where there is fear, there must be escape. And so there ensues a ceaseless battle between desire, reason, the urge for fulfillment, and their opposites. In this battle, intelligence, true fulfillment, is wholly lost. As long as mind is caught up in the conflict of opposites, there can be only an escape, a substitution as the essential and the unessential, the false and the true. In this there is no creative happiness. Question: Are there not times when one needs to separate oneself from outward confusion to aid in the realization of true self? Krishnamurti: If you put needs first, then they become your masters and intelligence is destroyed. To find out your needs requires intelligence, for needs are constantly changing, constantly renewing themselves. But if you set out to find exactly what your needs are, and having discovered them you limit yourself to those needs, then your life will become very superficial, narrow, small. So in the same way, if you are seeking solitude merely in order to find out what truth is, then solitude becomes only a means of escape. But in your search during your active life there come naturally periods of solitude. These moments of solitude then are not false; they are natural, spontaneous. Question: You said on Monday that to have true intelligence, one must have passed through a state of great aloneness. Is this the only way of arriving at true intelligence? Krishnamurti: Let us consider what we do now. We are seeking security, constantly hedging ourselves in with certainties. Whenever there comes a state of utter uncertainty, doubt, we take immediate flight from it. So we have established comforting securities, certainties. Please think it over and you will see that this is so. And it is only when you are stripped of all hope, in the sense of security, certainty, only when you are completely naked, stripped of all protective measures and reactions, that there is the ecstasy of truth. In those moments of complete aloneness, which only comes when all escapes and their significance have been truly discerned, is there the blessedness of the present. RIO DE JANEIRO 1ST PUBLIC TALK 13TH APRIL, 1935 Friends, As there have been so many misconceptions and misunderstandings; in the newspapers and magazines concerning me, I think it would be best if I made a statement to clarify the position. People generally desire to be saved by another, or by some miracle, or by philosophical ideas; and I am afraid that many come here with this desire, hoping that by merely listening to me they will find an immediate solution to their many problems. Neither the solution to their problems nor their so-called salvation can come through any person or any system of philosophy. The understanding of truth or of life lies through one's own discernment, through one's own perseverance and clarity of thought. Because most of us are too lazy to think for ourselves, we blindly accept and follow persons or cling to ideas which become our means of escape in times of conflict and suffering. First of all, I want to explain that I do not belong to any society. I am not a Theosophist nor a Theosophical missionary, nor have I come here to convert you to any particular form of belief. I do not think it is possible to follow anyone, or to adhere to a certain belief, and at the same time have the capacity for clear thought. That is why most parties, societies, sects, religious bodies, become means of exploitation. Nor do I bring an oriental philosophy, urging you to accept it. When I speak in India I am told there that what I say is a western philosophy, and when I come to the western countries, they tell me that I bring an oriental mysticism which is impractical and useless in the world of action. But if you really come to think of it, thought has no nationality, nor is it limited by any country, climate or people. So please do not consider that what I am going to say is the result of some peculiar racial prejudice, idiosyncrasy, or personal peculiarity. What I have to say is actual, actual in the sense that it can be applied to the present life of man; it is not a theory based on some beliefs and hopes, but it is practicable and applicable to man. Now the full significance of what I am going to say can be understood only through experimenting and so through action. Most of us like to discuss philosophical questions in which our daily actions have no part; whereas, that of which I speak is not a philosophy or a system of thought, and its deep significance can be understood only through experiment, through action. What I say is not a theory. an intellectual belief to be merely discussed, to be argued over; it demands a great deal of thought; and only in action, not by intellectual disputation, can you find out whether it be true and practical. It is not a system to be memorized, nor is it a set of conclusions which can be learnt and automatically carried out. It must be understood critically. Now criticism is different from opposition. If you are really critical, you will not merely oppose, but you will try to find out whether what I say has any intrinsic merit in itself. This demands clarity of thinking on your part, so that you can pierce through the illusion of words, not allowing your prejudices, either religious or economic, to prevent you from thinking fundamentally. That is, you have to think from the very beginning, simply and directly. All of us have been brought up with many prejudices and preconceptions, we have been nurtured in festering traditions and limited by environment, and so our thought is continually perverted and twisted, thus preventing the simplicity of action. Take, for example, the question of war. You know, so many discuss the rightness and the wrongness of war. Surely there cannot be two ways of looking at that question. War, defensive or offensive, is fundamentally wrong. Now to think from the very beginning with regard to that question, mind must be entirely free of the disease of nationalism. We are prevented from thinking fundamentally, directly, simply, because of the prejudices which have been exploited through ages under the guise of patriotism, with its absurdities. So we have created through the centuries many habits, traditions, prejudices, which prevent the individual from thinking completely, fundamentally. about vital human questions. Now to understand the many problems of life, with its varieties of suffering, we must discover for ourselves the fundamental motives and causes, with their results and effects. Unless we are fully conscious of our actions, their cause and effect, we shall exploit and be exploited, we shall become slaves to systems and our actions will be merely mechanical and automatic. Until we can consciously free our actions from their limiting effect, through the understanding of the significance of their cause, unless we consciously free ourselves from the old forms of thought which we have built about us, we shall not be able to penetrate the innumerable illusions which we have created around us and in which we are entrammelled. Each one has to ask himself what he is seeking, or whether he is merely being driven by circumstances and conditions, and is therefore irresponsible, thoughtless. Those of you who are really discontented, critical, must have asked yourselves what it is that each individual is seeking. Are you seeking comfort, security, or the understanding of life? Many will say that they are seeking truth; but if they were to analyze their longing, their search, it would be seen that they are really looking for comfort, security, an escape from conflict and suffering. Now if you are seeking comfort, security, it must be based on acquisition and so on exploitation and cruelty. If you say you are seeking truth, you will become a prisoner to illusion, for truth can not be run after, searched out; it must happen. That is, its ecstasy is to be known only when the mind is utterly stripped of all the illusions which it has created in the search for its own security and comfort. Then only is there the dawning of that which is truth. To put it differently, we have to ask ourselves on what are our life, thought and action based. If we can answer this completely, truthfully, then we can find out for ourselves who is the creator of illusions, of these supposed realities to which we have become prisoners. If you really think about it, you will see that your whole life is based on the pursuit of individual security, safety and comfort. In this search for security, naturally there is born fear. When you are seeking comfort, when the mind is trying to evade struggle, conflict, sorrow, it must create various avenues of escape, and these avenues of escape become our illusions. So fear, which is the outcome of individual search for security, is the breeder of illusions. This drives you from one religious sect to another, from one philosophy to another, from one teacher to another, to seek that security, that comfort. This you call the search for truth, for happiness. Now, there is no security, no comfort, but only clarity of thought which brings about the understanding of the fundamental cause of suffering, which alone will liberate man. In this liberation lies the blessedness of the present. I say that there is an eternal reality which can be discovered only when the mind is free from all illusion. So beware of the person who offers you comfort, for in this there must be exploitation; he creates a snare in which you are caught like a fish in a net. In the search for comfort, security, life has come to be divided into the religious or the spiritual, and the economic or the material. Material security is sought through possessions which give power and through that power you hope to realize happiness. To attain this material security, power, there must be exploitation, the exploitation of your neighbour through a system deliberately set up and which has become hideous in its many cruelties. This search for individual security, in which is included one's own family as well, has created class distinctions, racial hatreds, nationalism, ending eventually in wars. And curiously, if you consider it, religion which should denounce war, helps its furtherance. The priests, who are supposed to be the educators of the people, encourage all the inanities that nationalism creates and which blind people in moments of national hatred. And you create the system, based on individual security and comfort, which you call religion. You have created the religious organizations which are merely crystallized forms of thought and which assure personal immortality. I will go into this question of immortality in one of my later talks. So through the search for individual security, through the demand for individual continuance, you have created a religion that exploits you through priestcraft, through ceremonies, through so-called ideals. The system which you call religion and which has been created through your own demand for security has become so powerful, so realistic, that very few free themselves from its weight of crushing tradition and authority. The very beginning of true criticism lies in questioning the values that religion has set about us. Now in this frame each one is held; and as long as one is a slave to unexplored, unquestioned environment and values, both past and present, they must pervert the completeness of action. This perversion is the cause of conflict between the individual who is seeking security, and the many; between the individual and the continual movement of experience. As individually we have created this system of exploitation and crushing limitation, we have individually and consciously to break it down by understanding the foundation of this structure and not by merely creating new sets of values, which will only be another series of escapes. Thus we shall begin to penetrate into the true significance of the living. I maintain that there is a reality, give it what name you will, which can be understood and lived only when the mind and heart have penetrated into the illusions and are free from their false values. Then only is there the eternal. RIO DE JANEIRO 2ND PUBLIC TALK 17TH APRIL, 1935 Friends, In this brief introductory talk, before answering some of the questions that have been put to me, I want to express some ideas which should be thought over with critical intelligence. I do not want to go into details, but when you think over what I say and carry it out in action, you will see its practical importance in this world of cruel and terrifying chaos. The first thing we have to understand is that as long as there is a distinction between the individual and the group there must be conflict, there must be exploitation, there must be suffering. The conflict in the world is really between the individual who is seeking fulfillment, and the group. In the expression of his unique force as an individual, he must inevitably come into conflict with the many, and this conflict only increases the division between the two. The mere superficial imposition of the one upon the other or the extermination of the one by the other, cannot rid the world of exploitation and repressive cruelties. So long as we do not understand the true relationship between the individual and the group, and his true function among the many, there will be a continual warfare. To me, this distinction between the individual and the group is artificial and untrue, though it has assumed a reality. So long as we do not truly understand how the consciousness of the group has come into being and what is the individual and his function, there must be a continual friction. Before answering the questions this evening, I want to try to explain what I mean by the individual. The group consciousness is but the expansion of that of the individual, so let us concern ourselves with the thought and action of the individual. Though what I say may appear new to you, please examine it without prejudice. The individual is the result of the past, expressing himself through the present environment; the past being the inherited, the incomplete, and the present, that which is created by incompleteness. The past is nothing but incompleted thought, emotion and action; that is, thought, emotion or action conditioned and limited by ignorance. To put it differently, if a person has developed a certain background through traditions, through economic environment, through heredity, through religious training, and is trying to express himself through the limitation of that background, naturally then his actions, thoughts and feelings must be limited, conditioned. That is, his mind is perverted, twisted by his past, and with that limitation he is trying to meet life and understand its experiences. So ignorance is the accumulation of the results of action through the many hindrances whose significance the individual has not wholly understood. These hindrances have been built up by the mind for its self-protection. Each one is constantly seeking and creating security for himself, and therefore his whole reaction to life is one of continual self-defence. As long as the mind and heart are seeking measures to protect themselves through defensive ideals and values, there must be ignorance, which prevents the mind from acting fully, completely, and so it develops its own particularity which we call individuality, and which must inevitably come into conflict with the many other individualities. This is the fundamental cause of suffering. Now, to me, the true significance of individuality consists in freeing the mind from this past, from this ignorance with its limiting environment. In this process of liberation, there is born true intelligence, which alone will free man from suffering, from cruelties and exploitation. So when the mind is free from the habit and the tradition of seeking and creating values for its self-protection, through accumulation, which is ignorance, and meets life completely, utterly naked, free, then only is there the lasting discernment of that which is true. Question: Is it possible to live without exploitation, individual and commercial? Krishnamurti: Most of us are carried away by the mere sensation of possession. We desire to acquire, and therefore we begin to accumulate more and more, thinking that through accumulation we shall find happiness, security. As long as there is accumulative and acquisitive desire, there must be exploitation; and we can be free from that exploitation only when we begin to awaken intelligence through the destruction of self-protective values. But if we try merely to discover what our needs are and limit ourselves to those needs, then our life will become small, shallow and petty. Whereas, if we lived intelligently, without self-protective accumulations, then there would be no exploitation, with its many cruelties. To try to solve this problem by problem by merely controlling man's economic conditions or by mere renunciation, seems to me a wrong approach to this complicated problem. It is only through the voluntary and intelligent understanding of the futility and ignorance of self-protectiveness, that there can come the freedom from exploitation. To awaken intelligence is to discover, through doubt and questioning, the true significance of the values which we have acquired, of the traditions, whether religious, social, or economic, which we have inherited or have consciously built up. In such questioning, if it is real and vital, there is the intelligent discovery of needs. This intelligence is the assurance of happiness. Question: Should we break our swords and turn them into plough shares, even though our country is attacked by an enemy? Is it not our moral duty to defend our country? Krishnamurti: To me war is fundamentally wrong, either defensive or aggressive. The system of acquisitiveness on which this whole civilization is based must naturally create class, racial, and national distinctions, leading inevitably to war, which you may call offensive or defensive according to the dictates of commercial leaders and politicians. As long as this exploiting economic system exists, there must be war; and the individual who is faced with the problem of whether he shall fight or not, will decide according to his acquisitiveness, which he sometimes calls patriotism, ideals, and so on. Or, understanding that this whole system must inevitably lead to war, he, as an individual, will begin to free himself intelligently from this system. And this alone is to me the true solution. By our acquisitiveness we have built up through the many centuries this crushing system of exploitation which is destroying all our sensibilities, our love for one another. And when we ask, "Should we not fight for our country, is it not our moral duty?" there is something inherently wrong, something fundamentally cruel in the very question itself. To be free from this extreme stupidity - warman has to relearn to think from the very beginning. As long as humanity is divided by religion, by sects, by creeds, by classes, by nationalities, there must be war, there must be exploitation, there must be suffering. It is only when the mind begins to free itself from these limitations, only when the mind pours itself into the heart, that there is true intelligence, which alone is the lasting solution to the barbaric cruelties of this civilization. Question: How can we best help humanity to understand and live your teachings? Krishnamurti: It is very simple: by living them yourself. What is it that I am teaching? I am not giving you a new system, or a new set of beliefs; but I say, look to the cause that has created this exploitation, lack of love, fear, continual wars, hatred, class distinctions, division of man against man. The cause is, fundamentally the desire on the part of each one to protect himself through acquisitiveness, through power. We all desire to help the world, but we never begin with ourselves. We want to reform the world, but the fundamental change must first take place within ourselves. So, begin to free the mind and heart from this sense of possessiveness. This demands, not mere renunciation, but discernment, intelligence. Question: What is your attitude towards the problem of sex, which plays such a dominant part in our daily life? Krishnamurti: It has become a problem because there is no love. Isn't that so? When we really love, there is no problem, there is an adjustment, there is an understanding. It is only when we have lost the sense of true affection, that profound love in which there is no sense of possessiveness, that there arises the problem of sex. It is only when we have completely yielded ourselves to mere sensation, that there are many problems concerning sex. As the majority of people have lost the joy of creative thinking, naturally they turn to the mere sensation of sex, which becomes a problem eating their minds and hearts away. As long as you do not begin to question and understand the significance of environment, of the many values which you have built up about you in self-protection and which are crushing out fundamental, creative thinking, naturally you must resort to many forms of stimulation. From this arise innumerable problems for which there is no solution except the fundamental and intelligent understanding of life itself. Please experiment with what I am saying. Begin to find out the true significance of religion, of habit, of tradition, of this whole system of morality that is continually forcing, urging you in a particular direction; begin to question its whole significance without prejudice. Then you will awaken that creative thought which dissolves the many problems, born of ignorance. Question: Do you believe in reincarnation? Is it a fact? Can you give us proofs from your personal experience? Krishnamurti: The idea of reincarnation is as old as the hills; the idea that man, through many rebirths, going through innumerable experiences, will come at last to perfection, to truth, to God. Now what is it that is reborn, what is it that continues? To me, that thing which is supposed to continue is nothing but a series of layers of memory, of certain qualities, certain incompleted actions which have been conditioned, hindered by fear born of self-protection. Now that incomplete consciousness is what we call the ego, the "I". As I explained at the beginning in my brief introductory talk, individuality is the accumulation of the results of various actions which have been impeded, hindered by certain inherited and acquired values, limitations. I hope I am not making it very complicated and philosophical, I will try to make it simple. When you talk of the "I", you mean by that a name, a form, certain ideas, certain prejudices, certain class distinctions, qualities, religious prejudices, and so on, which have been developed through the desire for self-protection, security, comfort. So, to me, the "I", based on an illusion, has no reality. Therefore the question is not whether there is reincarnation, whether there is a possibility of future growth, but whether the mind and heart can free themselves from this limitation of the "I", the "mine". You ask me whether I believe in reincarnation or not because you hope that through my assurance you can postpone understanding and action in the present, and that you will eventually come to realize the ecstasy of life or immortality. You want to know whether, being forced to live in a conditioned environment with limited opportunities, you will through this misery and conflict ever come to realize that ecstasy of life, immortality. As it is getting late I have to put it briefly, and I hope you will think it over. Now I say there is immortality, to me it is a personal experience; but it can be realized only when the mind is not looking to a future in which it shall live more perfectly, more completely, more richly. Immortality is the infinite present. To understand the present with its full, rich significance, mind must free itself from the habit of self-protective acquisition; when it is utterly naked, then only is there immortality. Question: In order that we may grasp truth, shall we work alone or collectively? Krishnamurti: If I may suggest, leave the question of truth aside; rather let us consider whether it is intelligent to work for individual gain or for the collective. For centuries each one has sought his own security, and so he has been ruthless, aggressive, exploiting, thus creating confusion and chaos. Considering all this, you, the individual, will voluntarily begin to work for the welfare of the whole. In this voluntary act, the individual will never become mechanical, automatic, a mere instrument in the hands of the group; therefore, there can never be a conflict between the group and the individual. The question of individual creative expression as opposed to and in conflict with the group will disappear only when each one acts integrally in the fullness of understanding. This alone will bring about intelligent co-operation in which compulsion, either through fear or greed, has no place. Do not wait to be driven to act collectively, but begin to awaken that intelligence, stripping away all acquisitive stupidities. and then there will be the joy of collective work. April 17, 1935 SAO PAULO 2ND PUBLIC TALK 24TH APRIL, 1935 Friends, Many questions have been put to me concerning the personal future of individuals and their hopes, whether they will succeed in certain business, whether they should leave this country and establish themselves in North America, who is the right person to marry, and so on. I cannot answer such questions as I am not a fortune-teller. I know these are questions which are real and disturbing, but they have to be solved by each one for himself. I have chosen from among the innumerable questions that have been put to me, those that are representative; but I feel it would be futile and a waste of time for you and for me if what I am going to say, and have said, were accepted by you as some philosophical theory with which the mind can amuse itself. I have something vital to say which is applicable to life, something which, when understood, will help you to solve the many problems in your daily life. I am not answering these questions from any particular point of view, for I feel that all problems should be dealt with, not separately, but as a whole. If we can do this, our thoughts and actions will become sane and balanced. Please do not dismiss some of these questions as being bourgeois or as asked by the leisured class. They are human questions and should be considered as such, not as belonging to any particular class. Question: How do you regard mediumship and communication with the spirits of the dead? Krishnamurti: You can laugh it off or take it seriously. In the first place, do not let us discuss whether the spirits exist or not, but let us consider the desire which prompts us to communicate with them, for that is the most important part in the question. With the majority of people who go in for that kind of thing, in their communication with the dead there is the desire to be guided, to be told what to do, as they are in constant uncertainty with regard to their actions, and they hope that by communicating with those who are dead they shall find guidance, thus sparing themselves the trouble of thinking. So the desire is for guidance, for direction, in order that they may not make mistakes and suffer. It is the same attitude that some have with regard to the masters, those beings who are considered more advanced, and so able to direct man through their messengers and so forth and so on. The worship of authority is the denial of understanding. The desire not to suffer breeds exploitation. So this search for authority destroys fullness of action, and guidance brings about irresponsibility, for there is strong desire to sail through life without conflict, without suffering. For this reason one has beliefs, ideals, systems, in the hope that struggle and suffering can be avoided. But these beliefs, ideals, which have become escapes, are the very cause of conflict, creating greater illusions, greater suffering. So long as the mind seeks comfort through guidance, through authority, the cause of suffering, ignorance, can never be dissolved. Question: In order to attain truth, must one abstain from marriage and procreation? Krishnamurti: Now, truth is not an end, a finality that can be attained through certain actions. It is that understanding born of continual adjustment to life, which demands great intelligence; and because most people are not capable of this self-defenseless adjustment to the movement of life, they create certain theories and ideals which they hope will guide them. So man is held in the frame of traditions, prejudices and binding moralities, dictated by fear and the desire for self-preservation. This has come about because he is unable to discern continuously the significance of life in constant movement, and so he has developed certain "musts" and "must nots". A complete and a rich living, by which I mean a most intelligent life, not a self-protective, defensive existence, demands that the mind shall be free of all taboos, fears and superstitions, without "must" and "must not", and this can only be when the mind wholly understands the significance and the cause of fear. For most people there is conflict, suffering and a ceaseless adjustment in marriage; and for many the desire to attain truth is but an escape from this struggle. Question: You deny religion, God and immortality. How can humanity become more perfect, and so happier, without believing in these fundamental things? Krishnamurti: It is because with you it is only a belief in God, in immortality, it is because you merely believe in these things, that there is so much misery, suffering and exploitation. You can discover whether there is truth, immortality, only in the completeness of action itself not through any belief whatsoever, not through the authoritative assertion of another. Only in the fullness of action itself is reality concealed. Now to most people, religion, God and immortality are simply a means of escape. Religion has merely helped man to escape from the conflict, the suffering of life, and therefore from understanding it. When you are in conflict with life, with its problems of sex, exploitation, jealousy. cruelty, and so on, as you do not fundamentally desire to understand them - for to understand them demands action, intelligent action - and as you are unwilling to make the effort, you unconsciously try to escape to those ideals, values, beliefs which have been handed down. So immortality, God and religion have merely become shelters for a mind that is in conflict. To me, both the believer and the non-believer in God and immortality are wrong, because the mind cannot comprehend reality until it is completely free of all illusions. Then only can you affirm, not believe or deny, the reality of God and immortality. When the mind is utterly free from the many hindrances and limitations created through self-protectiveness, when it is open, wholly naked, vulnerable in the understanding of the cause of self-created illusion, only then all beliefs disappear, yielding place to reality. Question: Are you against the institution of the family? Krishnamurti: I am, if the family is the centre of exploitation, if it is based on exploitation. (Applause) Please, what is the good of merely agreeing with me? You must act to alter this. The desire for perpetuation creates a family which becomes the centre of exploitation. So the question is really, can one ever live without exploiting? Not whether family life is right or wrong, not whether having children is right or wrong, but whether family, possessions, power, are not the result of the desire for security, self- perpetuation. As long as there is this desire, family becomes the centre of exploitation. Can we ever live without exploitation? I say we can. There must be exploitation as long as there is the struggle for self-protection; as long as the mind is seeking security, comfort, through family, religion, authority or tradition, there must be exploitation. And exploitation ceases only when the mind discerns the falseness of security and is no longer ensnared by its own power of creating illusions. If you will experiment with what I say, you will then understand that I am not destroying desire. but that you can live in this world, richly, sanely, a life without limitations, without suffering. You can discover this only by experimenting, not by denying, not through resignation nor by merely imitating. Where intelligence is functioning - and intelligence ceases to function when there is fear and the desire for security - there can be no exploitation. Most people are waiting for a change to take place that will miraculously alter this system of exploitation. They are waiting for revolutions to realize their hopes, their unfulfilled longings; but in so waiting they are slowly dying. For I think that mere revolutions do not change the fundamental desires of man. But if the individual begins to act with intelligence, without compulsion, irrespective of present conditions or of what revolutions promise in the future, then there is a richness, a completeness whose ecstasy cannot be destroyed. April 24, 1935 RIO DE JANEIRO 3RD PUBLIC TALK 4TH MAY, 1935 Friends, Throughout the ages and in the present civilization also, one sees how the clever individual exploits the group, and the group in its turn exploits the individual. There is this constant interaction between the individual and the group as society, religions, the ideas of leaders and of dictators. There is also the exploitation of women by men in certain countries, and in others, women exploit men. There is a subtle or a gross form of exploitation taking place where there is vested interest whether in private property or in religion or in politics. It is always difficult to penetrate through to the real significance beyond the words, and not be misled by them. By fully understanding the present significance of morality, we shall discover for ourselves the new morality and its details in action. Most people, after hearing me, say that I have only given them vague ideas which are not at all practical. But I am not here to give you a new set of rules or a new mode of action, which would be but another form of exploitation, another cage to imprison you. You would merely be leaving an old prison for a new one, which would be utterly futile. Whereas, if you begin to examine and discover the basis of the present code of conduct, of the whole structure of morality, then in the very process of discovery of the true cause of what we call morality, you will begin to discern the manner of true individual action, which will then be moral. This action of intelligence, freed from enticement or compulsion, is true morality. Our present day morality is based on the protection of the individual; it is a closed system which acts as a covering to hold the individual within the group. The individual is treated like some vicious animal that must be kept in the cage of morality. We have become slaves to a group morality which each of us has helped to build up out of his own individual desire for security and comfort. Each one of us has contributed to this system of morality, which is based on acquisition and cunning self-protection. In the closed system of this so-called morality, we have created static religions with their static gods, dead images, petrified thoughts. This closed prison of morality has become so powerful, so compulsive, that most individuals live in fear of breaking away from it, and merely imitate the rules and conduct of the prison. Now through this closed morality we cannot find truth, nor through mere escape from it. If we merely escape from this morality by the destruction of the old code without understanding, we shall but create another form of self-protection, another prison. As long as the mind is seeking safety, searching out ways and means of assuring its own security, it must inevitably create laws and systems for its own protection. This search for self-protection denies the understanding of reality. Reality can be discerned only when the mind is utterly naked, wholly denuded of this idea of self-protection. So you have to become intensely aware of the cause of this prison, of this continual building up of securities, comforts and escapes, in which the mind is engaged. When you are fully aware of the cause, then the mind itself begins to discern the true manner of acting in the very moment of experience, and so morality becomes purely individual. It cannot be made a means of exploitation. Knowing the cause and being continually aware of it, the mind itself begins to break through the covering of this self-protective morality, which has become so crushing, so destructive of intelligence. In that awareness, which is the awakening of intelligence, the mind breaks through to the flow of reality, which cannot become a static religion, a means of exploitation. nor can it be petrified in a prayer book of the priests. Question: Would mere economic and social revolution solve all human problems, or must this be preceded by an inner, spiritual revolution? Krishnamurti: Revolution may come, and instead of a capitalistic system suppose you establish a communistic form of government; but do you think that mere external revolution will solve the many human problems? Under the present system you are forced to adjust yourself to a certain method of thought, of morality, of earning money. If a different system is established through revolution, there will be another form of compulsion, perhaps for the better; but how can mere compulsion ever bring about understanding? Are you satisfied to continue living unintelligently in the present system, hoping and waiting for some miraculous external change to take place which will also alter your mind and heart? Surely there is only one way, which is to see that this present system is based on selfish exploitation in which each individual is ruthlessly seeking his own security, and so fighting to preserve his own distinctions and acquisitions. Understand- ing this, the intelligent man will not wait for a revolution to come, but will begin to alter fundamentally his action, his morality, and will begin to free his mind and heart of all acquisitiveness. Such a man is free of the burden of any system, and so can live intelligently in the present. If you really desire to find out the true way of action, try to live in the present, with the comprehension of the inevitable. Question: I belong to no religion, but I am a member of two societies which give me knowledge and spiritual wisdom. If I give these up, how can I ever reach perfection? Krishnamurti: If you understand the futility of all organized religious bodies, with their vested interests, with their exploitation, the utter stupidity of their beliefs based on authority, superstition and fear, if you truly grasp the significance of this, then you will not belong to any religious sect or society. Do you think that any society or any book can give you wisdom? Books and societies can give you information; but if you say that a society can give you wisdom, then you merely rely on it, and it becomes your exploiter. If wisdom could be acquired through a religious society or sect, we should all be wise, for we have had religions with us for thousands of years. But wisdom is not to be acquired in that manner. Wisdom is the understanding of the continual flow of life or reality, which is to be discerned only when the mind is open and vulnerable, that is, when the mind is no longer hindered through its own self-protective desires, reactions and illusions. No society, no religion, no priest, no leader is ever going to give you wisdom. It is only through our own suffering, from which we try to escape by joining religious bodies and by immersing ourselves in philosophical theories, it is only through being aware of the cause of suffering and in freedom from it that wisdom is born naturally and sweetly. Question: I desire many things from life which I do not have. Can you tell me how to get them? Krishnamurti: Why do you want many things? We all must have clothes, food, shelter. But what is behind the desire for many things? We want things because we think that through possessions we shall be happy, that through acquisition we shall obtain power. Behind this question lies the desire for power. In the pursuit of power there is suffering and through suffering, there is the awakening of intelligence which reveals the utter futility of power. Then there is the understanding of needs. You may not want many physical things; perhaps you may see the absurdity of many possessions, but you may want spiritual power. Between this and the desire for many things there is no difference. They are alike; the one you call materialistic, and to the other you give a more refined name, spiritual, but in essence they are only ways of seeking your own security, and in that there can never be happiness or intelligence. Question: You seem to deny the value of discipline and moral standards. Will not life be a chaos without discipline and morality? Krishnamurti: As I said at the beginning of my talk this evening, we have turned morality and discipline into a shelter for our own protection, without any deep significance, without any reality. Are there not wars, ruthless exploitation, utter chaos in the world, in spite of your disciplines, your religions, your rigid frames of morality? So let us look into this structure of morality and discipline that we have built up and which has exploited us, which is destroying human intelligence. In the very examination of this closed structure of morality and discipline, with great care and without prejudice, you will begin to understand and develop that true morality which cannot be systematized, petrified. The morality, the discipline that you have now is based on the individual's search for his own safety, security, through religion and economic exploitation. You may talk about love and brotherhood on Sundays, but on Mondays you exploit others in your various occupations. Religion, morality, discipline, merely act as a cover for hypocrisy. Such a morality, from my point of view, is immoral. As you ruthlessly seek economic security, out of which is born a morality suited for that purpose, so you have created religions all over the world which promise you immortality through their closed and peculiar disciplines and moralities. As long as this closed morality exists, there must be wars and exploitation, there cannot be the real love of man. This morality, this discipline, is really based on egotism and the ruthless search for individual security. When the mind frees itself from this centre of limited consciousness which is based on self-aggrandizement, then there comes the exquisite and delicate adjustment to life which does not demand rules and regulations, but which is consummately intelligent, expressing itself in the integrated action of true discernment. Question: I do not care what happens after death, but I am afraid of dying. Must I fight this fear, and how can I overcome it? Krishnamurti: By living in the present. Eternity is not in the future, it is ever in the present. There is no remedy or substitution for fear, except the understanding of the cause of fear itself. The mind is being continually limited by the memories of the past, and these memories are hindering the fulfillment of action in the present. So there is no completeness of action in the present, which creates fear of death. This is not an intellectual feat, living in the present. It demands understanding of action and freeing the mind from illusion. The mind has the power to create illusion, and with that we are mostly occupied - creating illusions, escapes, covering over things we do not want to understand. The mind is creating illusions as a means of escape, and these illusions, with their power, prevent the completeness of action and the full comprehension of the present. Thus the old illusions are creating new and further hindrances, limitations. That is why we begin to think in terms of time as a means of understanding, growing. Understanding is ever in the present, not in the future. And the mind refuses to discern immediately because this involves an intelligent revolt against all that it has built up in its search for its own security Question: I allow my imagination to wander fearlessly. Is this right? Krishnamurti: Actually you may be afraid of many things. This imaginative flight is another escape from the problems of life. If it is an escape, it is utterly wasteful of mental energy. That energy can become creative and effective only when it has liberated itself from fears and illusions which tradition and self-protective desires have imposed upon it. Question: Are you preaching individualism? Krishnamurti: I am afraid the questioner has not quite understood what I have said. I am not advocating individualism at all. Unfortunately, the vast majority have hardly an opportunity for individual expression; they may think they are acting voluntarily, freely; but sadly they are merely machines, functioning in a particular groove under the compulsion of circumstances and environment. So how can there be individual fulfillment, which is the highest form of intelligence? What we call individual expression, in the case of the vast majority of people, is nothing but a reaction in which there is very little intelligence. But there is a different kind of individuality, that of uniqueness, which is the result of voluntary and comprehending action. That is, if one understands environment and acts with discerning intelligence, then there is true individuality. This uniqueness is not separative, for it is intelligence itself. Intelligence is alone, unique. But if you merely act through the compulsion of circumstances, then, though you may think you are an individual, your actions are but reaction in which there is no true intelligence. Because the present individual is merely a reaction in which there can be no intelligence, there is chaos in the world, each individual seeking his own security and thoughtless fulfillment. Intelligence is unique; it cannot be divided as yours and mine. It is only the absence of intelligence that can be separated into units as yours and mine, and this is the ugliness of distinction out of which is come exploitation, cruelty and sorrow. May 4, 1935. RIO DE JANEIRO 4TH PUBLIC TALK 10TH MAY, 1935 Friends, Each one is trying to find happiness, truth or God, giving to the object of his search a different name according to his intellectual capacities, religious upbringing and environment. You have come here hoping to discover a certainty around which you can build your whole life and action. Now why are you seeking the ultimate certainty, that reality which you hope will give you happiness, explain the cruelty and the suffering of man? What is the cause of your search? Fundamentally, the reason for this search - the human reason, not some intellectual reason - is that, as there is so much suffering in you and about you, you want to escape from the present to some idealistic utopia of the future, to an intellectual system of thought, or to an authority of faith and assurance. A man who is profoundly in love is not in search of love or happiness; but the man who is not in love, who is not happy, who is suffering, seeks the opposite of that in which he is caught. Finding yourself in misery, in great emptiness, despair, you begin to seek a way out, an escape. This escape is called the search for reality, truth, or by whatever name you like to give to it. Most people who say they are seeking happiness, are really trying to escape, trying to run away from the conflict, the misery, the nothingness in which they are caught. Being uncertain of love, of thought, one's whole search is directed towards certainties and satisfactions; for love and thought are constantly seeking certainties to which they can anchor themselves. These are called realities, happiness and inquiries after immortality. You want to be assured that there is something enduring, something more than this confusion and misery. If you really consider - and please don't merely listen intellectually to what I am saying - if you really consider your own search and examine it, then you will see that you are trying to escape from this confusion and misery to what you imagine to be a reality, a happiness. You want a drug, a dope which will satisfy you, which will put you peacefully to sleep. The only actuality, the only reality that we can fully comprehend, is this confusion, this misery, this conflict, and to escape from this is but to create illusion. If you escape from actuality, you can only go to illusions, to hopes, to longings, which have no reality. So the way out of actuality must inevitably lead to illusion, though this illusion may have assumed a reality through time and tradition. Now please don't say, "Is there nothing beyond confusion, nothing beyond misery?" I want to explain how our minds act, what our reactions are; and in properly and thoroughly understanding this, we can then proceed with care to something which can be understood only through actuality, not through illusions. Please let me repeat that the search for happiness, truth or reality is born out of the desire to escape from the prison of suffering, and is therefore fundamentally false; and unless you discern this clearly, understand it fully, what I say further on in my talk will not be completely understood. So I will go into it thoroughly. When we suffer through the loss of someone we love, or there is in our lives the emptiness of unfulfillment or the despair of utter uncertainty, we begin to create the opposite and pursue that image, hoping that it will lead us to peace, fulfillment, completeness. So we are drawn, consciously or unconsciously, subtly or grossly, further and further away from actuality, from the suffering of the present. Suppose that you have lost someone by death. You suffer and you begin to ask about the hereafter, whether it is a fact or not. Then you begin to investigate the theory of reincarnation. What is it that you are really doing? You are trying to get away from suffering. So explanations and so-called facts merely act as drugs to dull the acuteness of suffering. Where there is the desire to escape there must be the creation of illusion. As we do suffer constantly, we have created innumerable illusions, and our present search for reality is nothing but the search for a greater and more magnificent illusion. If you understand this completely, then you will perceive the utter futility of the search for happiness, for certainty, for truth, or whatever you may call it. You will no longer be concerned with the measuring of the immeasurable. Once and for all, the mind must rid itself of this desire to escape, and only then is it prepared to discover the fundamental cause of suffering; for suffering is the main reality with which each one of us is acquainted. Now to understand fundamentally the cause of suffering, the mind must be free from ideals, because ideals are nothing but forms of escape from actuality. When the mind becomes aware of itself, it will perceive that it is merely imitating patterns, following objectives, beliefs, ideals, which it has established for itself as a means of running away from confusion. Mind thus superimposes those beliefs and ideals on confusion and suffering. In other words, ideals are merely illusions which give you hope and encouragement to avoid the present. In case you don't completely understand this, I will take an example. There is the ideal of brotherhood and of brotherly love, Now what is happening in actuality? There are wars. nationalities, divisions of classes, of man against man, exploitations, the grouping of men into religions which separate them by dogmas. In actuality, that is what is happening. So what is the good of your ideal? You will say, "We are going to work up to that ideal eventually." But of what value is that in the present? Why do you want ideals when you know definitely that there cannot be brotherhood so long as there are the distinctions created by religion, acquisitiveness and exploitation in which you are living? Your ideals are only sentimental soporifics for people who do not want to act in the present. Whereas, if you had no ideals at all, but saw the actuality of confusion and cruelty, without being blinded by hopes that have become ideals, then in solving these problems there would naturally be brotherhood, there would be true unity between all men. So ideals really give you the opportunity not to face the present corruption and exploitation, in which you are taking part. Most minds are pursuing the authority of beliefs and ideals, because they do not want to comprehend the present; and that is one of the main reasons why they never find out and therefore dissipate for themselves the cause of suffering. Now we have built up through many centuries an environment of such illusions as authority, imitativeness, beliefs, ideals, which give us the opportunity of subtle escape. People suffer within that prison of limitation and they try to find solutions for their suffering within it, within the illusions they have built around themselves. But there are others who truly discern the illusory nature of this structure, and because they suffer much more intensely and intelligently and are not willing to escape into the future, in that very acuteness of suffering they discover the true freedom from suffering itself. So you have to ask yourself whether you are seeking a solution for your suffering within the circle of illusion, within the environment of centuries, and thus creating further illusions and entrenching yourself more within that prison; or whether you are seeking to break through the many illusions that you have built about yourself through the centuries. For in the process of discernment, the cause of suffering is known and dissolved. It is only then, and not till then, that the mind is able to discern truth. The very search for reality is an illusion, because it is but an escape. When all escapes and illusions have been cleared away by understanding, then only can the mind perceive that which is enduring, the immeasurable. Question: What do you think of charity and social philanthropy? Krishnamurti: Social philanthropy is giving hack to the victim a little of what the philanthropist has ruthlessly got out of him. You first exploit him, make him work innumerable hours and all the rest of it, and amass a great deal of wealth by cunning, cheating, and then come around magnanimously and give a little to the poor victim. (Laughter) I don't know why you are laughing, because you are doing the same thing, only differently. You may not be cunning, clever, ruthless enough to amass wealth and become a philanthropist; but you are spiritually, idealistically amassing what you call knowledge, in order to protect yourself. Charity is unconscious of itself; there is no accumulation first and then distribution. It is like the flower, natural, open, spontaneous. Question: Should the Ten Commandments be destroyed? Krishnamurti: Aren't they already destroyed? Do they exist now? Perhaps in the prayer book, petrified, to be worshipped as ideals, but in actuality they do not exist. For many centuries man has been guided through fear, forced, compelled to act according to certain standards; but the highest form of morality is to do a thing for its own sake, not for a motive or for a reward. Now, instead of being coerced to follow a pattern, we have to find out individually what is true morality. This is one of the most difficult things to do, to find out for oneself how to act truly; it demands intelligence, a continual adjustment, not the following of a law or a system, but an intense awareness, discernment in the moment of action itself. And this can be only when the mind is liberating itself, with understanding, from fear and compulsions. Question: Is there God? Krishnamurti: I wonder what value it would have if I said yes or no. To deny or assert would not reveal the reality. One has to discover for oneself. Therefore you cannot accept or deny. If I said yes, what would happen? It would be another belief to be added to your museum of beliefs. If I said no, that also would belong to a museum, of another type. One way or the other, it is of no importance to you. If I said yes, I would become an authority, and you might perhaps mould your life on that pattern; if I said no, that would also lay down a pattern. You cannot approach this problem. whether there is God or not, with any prejudice either for or against. What you can do is, prepare the soil of the mind and see what happens. That is, let the mind free itself from all illusions, from all fears, prejudices and longings and be without any expectation whatsoever; then such a mind can discern whether there be God or not. One has a speculative mind, and for intellectual amusement one tries to solve this question; but such a mind cannot find a true answer. All that you can do is to break through the falseness, the illusions that you have created about yourselves. And this demands, not an inquiry into the existence of God, but the action of completeness, of your whole being, in the present. Question: Are not priests necessary to lead the ignorant to righteousness? Krishnamurti: Certainly not. But who are the ignorant? This question can be put only to each one of you and not to a vague mass called the ignorant. The mass is you. Do you need priests? Who is to say who are the ignorant? No one. So being ignorant, do you need a priest, and can a priest ever lead you out of that ignorance to righteousness? If you merely consider that an ignorant man, vaguely existing somewhere whom you don't know, needs a priest, then you perpetuate exploitation and all the tricks of religion. No one can lead you to righteousness except you yourself, through your own understanding, through your own suffering. Question: Is it possible to reach perfection among the imperfect? Krishnamurti: Where else can you realize perfection, where else can you understand perfection, except among the imperfect? But this whole idea of gaining perfection is so fundamentally wrong. Please, you have to think about this carefully. When you talk of perfection, you mean gaining an end, a certainty, a power which can give you security, from which there can never arise conflict, sorrow. Perfection is not an end, an absolute, fixed point, but a continual becoming. When the mind is free from the opposites, then there is a continual movement, a continual flow of reality. Perfection is the action, the continual flow of reality. not an absolute objective to which you are progressing through innumerable experiences, memories, lessons, suffering. To understand this flow of life, mind must be free entirely from finalities. from certainties, which are but the outcome of the desire for self-protection. If you consider what I have been saying this evening, you will discern the enclosure which we have created through the many centuries, in which we have become prisoners, thus destroying our creative intelligence. If the mind can begin to break down the walls of that prison, through comprehension. then there is action without sorrow, normal and true. Question: Is not egotism the root of religious and economic exploitation? Krishnamurti: Sir, that is obvious. it is egotism that has created the cages of religion; it is egotism that creates the exploitation of people. The questioner knows this, but what does he do about it? We know that there is ruthless exploitation by the clever and the cunning, that there is poverty amidst plenty. But has the questioner asked himself whether he is not also taking part in this cruel and stupid acquisitive battle? If he really felt the appalling cruelty of all this and acted intelligently, he would be as a flame, consuming the stupidities around him. May 10, 1935 RIO DE JANEIRO 5TH PUBLIC TALK 18TH MAY, 1935 Friends, I have been told that what I say is too complicated, too impracticable and impossible for daily life in which each one has to fight for his own living. Some reject without thought what I say, and others, equally thoughtlessly, accept it without further examination, hoping that it will fit into their already existing system. So the renewing power of action is denied. Now we are concerned with living. and living implies, not only bread, shelter, clothes and work, but also love and thought. We cannot understand the full significance of living if we deal separately and singly with the problem of work, of love or of thought. As they are interrelated and inseparable, they must be understood comprehensively, as a whole. It is only the people who are comfortably settled in life, who are following the traditional pattern or system, that try to separate work from living, and they hope to overcome the conflict which arises from this division by considering each problem exclusively. There are many so-called spiritual people who consider work, occupation, as something materialistic and merely to be tolerated. They are concerned only with truth and God. And there are others who concern themselves solely with reorganizing society for the welfare of the whole. If we want to understand action, which is living, we have to take it as a whole, not divide it into watertight compartments, as most people do. living is the harmonious action of thought, emotion and work; and when these are in contradiction with each other, then there is suffering, conflict, disharmony. We are seeking - aren't we? - to live harmoniously, to live completely in our actions, to fulfil. To do so there must be the highest intelligence, which is to be without fear, exploitation, without seeking reward. From this there arises the renewing freedom of action. Each one is fundamentally seeking, trying to live in this action; but in seeking to discover that harmonious movement of living, he is very often led astray by some unimportant question, such as what system he should follow, whether there are Masters, whether there is truth, God. Why don't we live this intelligent, harmonious action? If we accomplish this, then life becomes simple, supremely purposeful and creative. So why don't we who are seeking this harmonious living - at least there are many who constantly assert that they are seeking - realize it? One of the main reasons is that we consider the many problems of life separately and exclusively, as I have tried to explain. From this division there arises false thinking, which creates exploitation in work and the complications and confusion which inhibit love. These can be understood and solved only by right thinking. To find out what right thinking is, let us discover first what is false in our thought. If we can know for ourselves that which is false in our thinking, then we shall know naturally, without imposition, what is the true. Through the mass of false ideas, through the screen of many illusions, there cannot be the perception of the true. So we have to concern ourselves with trying to discover what is false. Now, our thought is based on habit, the habit of centuries to which it has become accustomed. It is following a pattern, a system; it is shaping itself after an ideal which it has established as a means of escape from the present conflict. As long as thought is following a system, a habit. or merely conforming to an established tradition, an ideal, there must be false thinking. You follow a system or mould yourself after a pattern because there is fear, the fear of right and wrong which has been established according to the tradition of a system. If thought is merely functioning in the groove of a pattern without understanding the significance of environment, there must be conscious or unconscious fear, and such thought must inevitably lead to confusion, to illusion and false action The traditional habit of thought with regard to work is the pursuit of individual economic security, safety and comfort. So we have developed a system throughout the world in which exploitation has become righteous and acquisitiveness is honoured. Out of this there naturally arise the conflict of classes, nationalism and wars. The very foundation of our love is possessiveness, out of which arise jealousy and the complexities and problems of sex. Now, to try to solve any one of these problems exclusively, not as a part of the whole, is to create and perpetuate conflict and suffering, from which arise further illusions and false thinking. So long as thought is seeking and following a pattern, conforming to an environment which it has not understood and merely acting from habit, there must be conflict and disharmony. So the first thing, if you really want to understand the beauty of living and its richness, is to become aware of the environment, both of the past and of the present, to which the mind has become attached; and in understanding the illusions which it has created for its own protection, there comes naturally, without the mind having to search after it, that spontaneous, intelligent action which is the highest consummation of life. All this applies to those who desire to understand and to live supremely, but not to those who merely seek comfort, nor to those who are satisfied with explanations, for explanations are so much dust in the eyes. So if you would find such a life, there must be the purification of the mind through doubt, and that means the deep understanding of traditions and ideals, the dissipation of the many illusions which the mind has created in the search for its own protection. Thus when there is true discernment there is the ecstasy of the immeasurable, which cannot be imagined or preconceived, but only experienced. Question: Can we not be guided in our daily life by the wise advice given to us by the voices and spirits of the dead? Krishnamurti: Some of you, I see, are impatient with this question; you may think that it is stupid to seek advice from the spirits. To make this question applicable to others as well, let us simplify it. Some of you may not go to seances, may not indulge in automatic writing, but you do not mind seeking Masters, who perhaps may live in a far-off country, and accepting their messages through their messengers. Fundamentally, what is the difference? None whatever. Both are seeking guidance from others. Some try to get into touch with those who are dead, through mediums, automatic writing, and other childish means; and there are others who seek guidance from those whom they call Masters, through their representatives, which is equally childish. So please do not condemn those who go to mediums and attend seances, when you yourselves diligently seek messages and systems given by those whom you call the representatives of Masters. There are others who depend upon priests and ceremonies, traditions and conventionalities for their guidance. They are all in the same category. Now behind this question, whether one should seek advice and guidance from spirits, from Masters through their representatives, from saviours through their priests, is the desire to take shelter under the cover of authority. We are not concerned, for the moment, with the question of whether the Masters and the so-called spirits exist or not. Why do you search out guidance and advice, why do you desire direction? That is the problem. You give far greater value to the dead, to the hidden to the past than to the living and the present, because out of the dead, the hidden and the past, your mind can carve its own pleasant images, and live with these illusions completely satisfied; but the present and the living will not let you sleep with contentment. So to escape from this conflict, which is but to evade the present, you seek guidance, advice. A man who seeks guidance, a man who is creating idols to worship, will live in fear; he will be exploited and his intelligence slowly destroyed, as is being done all over the world. The desire to seek guidance from spirits and Masters through their representatives arises from the fear of sorrow. Can anyone, no matter who, save you from sorrow? If you can be saved by another, then the problem of authority ceases. You have merely to search out the most convenient and suitable authority and worship it. But I say no one can save you from sorrow except you yourself, through your own understanding. It is only your own discernment of the cause of suffering, not the explanations of another, that can open the doors to the greatest bliss, to the ecstasy of understanding. So long as you are seeking advice and guidance, which are but a means of escape from conflict, so long as you do not discern for yourself the cause of suffering but merely get confused by explanations, none can save you from sorrow - no priest, no book, no theory, no system, no spirit, no Master. Because that reality, that freedom from sorrow is in yourself, and through yourself alone can you go to it. Question: Have the teachings attributed to the Great Teachers Christ, Buddha, Hermes and others - any value for the attainment of the direct path to truth? Krishnamurti: If you will not misunderstand, I would say that their teachings become valueless because the human mind, being so subtle, so cunning in its desire for self-protection, twists the teachings to suit its own purposes and creates systems and ideals as a means of escape, out of which grow petrified churches and exploiting priests. Religions throughout the world, through their systems and the trickery of their organized exploitation, seek to teach man to love, to think, to live sanely, intelligently; but how can a system create love or teach you to think selflessly? As you do not want to do this, as you are unwilling to live completely, integrally, with vulnerable mind and heart, you have created a system which has become your master, a system that is contrary to and destructive of thought and love. So it is utterly useless to multiply systems. If the mind frees itself from the illusion of its own self-protective demands and cravings, then there will be love, intelligence; then there will not be this division created by religions and beliefs; man will not be against man. Question: If it is a fact that your future as a World Teacher was foretold, then is not predestination a fact in nature, and are we not therefore merely slaves of our appointed destiny? Krishnamurti: If your action is conditioned by the past, by fear or by environment and is thus made incomplete, there must be tomorrow to complete that action. That is, if your thought is limited, hindered by tradition, by class consciousness or by fear, or by religious prejudice, then it cannot complete itself in action; therefore it creates its own destiny, its own limitation. That is, your own incomplete action brings forth its own limited future. Where there is incomplete action there is suffering, which creates its own bondage. True action is choiceless, but if action is hindered by the prejudice of choice, then all further actions must inevitably create greater and narrower limitations. So instead of merely inquiring whether there is predestination or not, begin to act completely. in perceiving the necessity for complete action you will discern in action itself the prejudices of centuries which begin to impede that action, curtailing its fulfillment. When there is the flow of action which is intelligence, then life is a continual becoming without the conflict of choice. Question: What is human will power? Krishnamurti: it is nothing but a reaction against resistance. The mind has created, through its desire for self-protection and comfort, many hindrances and barriers, thus bringing about its own incompleteness, its own sorrow. To free itself from this sorrow, the mind begins to battle against these self-created resistances and limitations. In this conflict there is born and developed will, with which the mind identifies itself, thus giving birth to the "I" consciousness. If these barriers did not exist, there would be continual fulfillment in action, not an overcoming of a conflict. You are trying to kill out, to conquer these self-imposed limitations, which only give birth to resistance which we call will. But if we understood why these barriers were created, then there would not be an overcoming, a conquering, which but creates further resistance. These barriers, these hindrances have come into being through the desire for self-protection, and hence there is a conflict between the movement of eternal life and that desire. From this conflict arise sorrow and the many carefully cultivated escapes. Where there is escape there must be illusion, there must be the erection of barriers. Will is but another of the illusions which have been created in search of self-protection; and it is only when the mind liberates itself from its own centre of illusions and is creatively empty that there is discernment of that which is true. Discernment is not the result of will, as will springs from resistance. Will is the outcome of the conflict of choice, but discernment is choiceless. Question: What is action? Krishnamurti: Action is that unimpeded movement of intelligence, unhindered by fear, by compulsion, by the conflict of self-protective choice. Such pure action is the very expression of life itself. Now, this is not a philosophical answer to be treated merely as a theory, impracticable in daily life. We are concerned with action every moment of the day; and we shall know the ecstasy of this unimpeded action when the mind is renewing itself through fulfillment. We shall understand the full significance of action when thought is free and unhindered. That is, when you have pierced through the false illusions, false values, which you have created, which have become your environment. your burden, then there is the flow of reality, of life, which is action itself. You have individually to begin to discern the significance of acquisitiveness upon which our whole structure of thought and action is based. In disentangling yourself from it, there arises suffering only when there is no comprehension, only when there is compulsion. But to realize the ecstasy of this unimpeded action, thought must free itself from the moulds of ideals, awakening that unique uncertainty, the uncertainty of non-accumulation. When the mind is capable of discernment without the conflict of choice, then there is the ecstasy of action. May 18, 1935 NICHTEROY PUBLIC TALK 28TH MAY, 1935 Friends, Most people throughout the world, it does not matter where they are, are discontented, disturbed by the existing conditions, and they are trying to find a lasting way out of this misery and chaos. Each expert offers his own particular form of solution, and, as it generally happens, he contradicts the other experts. So each specialist forms a group around his theory, and soon the purpose of helping humanity is forgotten, while discussions and wrangles take place between various parties and experts. Not being an expert, I am not putting forward a new system or a new theory for the solution of the many problems; but what I should like to do is to awaken individual intelligence, so that each one, instead of becoming a slave to a system or to an expert, begins to act intelligently, for out of that alone can come a co-operative and constructive action. If each one of us is able under all circumstances to discern for himself what is true action, then there will not be exploitation, then each one will fulfil truly and live an harmonious and complete life. Naturally, what I say will apply to those people who are discontented, who are in revolt, who are trying to find an intelligent way of action. This applies to those who are in sorrow and desire to free themselves from all exploitation. Everyone is concerned with that awakening, through conflict and struggle between himself and the group, between himself and another individual. There is established authority, whether ancient or modern, which is continually urging, twisting the individual to function in one particular way. We have a whole system of thought, cultivated through the ages, to which each one of us has contributed, in whose ruthless movement each one, consciously or unconsciously, is caught up. So there is a collective and an individual consciousness, some times running parallel, often diametrically opposed. This opposition is the awakening of sorrow. Our conflict, dissatisfaction and struggle is between that which is the established authority, and the individual; between that which is centuries old, tradition, and the eager desire on the part of the individual not to be suffocated by tradition, by authority, but to fulfil; for in fulfillment alone is there creative happiness. In the world of action, which we call the material world, the economic world, the world of sociology, there is a system which prevents the true fulfillment of the individual. Even though each one thinks that he is acting individually in this present system, if you really examine it, you will see that he is but acting as a slave, as an automaton of the established order. That system has within it class distinction, based on acquisitive exploitation, leading to nationalism and wars; it has placed the means of accumulating wealth in the hands of the few. If the individual is at all able to express, to fulfil, he will be in constant revolt against this system; because, if you examine it, you will see that it is fundamentally unintelligent, cruel. If the individual wants to understand this external system? he must first become aware of the prison in which he is held, the prison which he has created through his own aggressive acquisitiveness, and begin to break it down through his own individual suffering and intelligence. Then there is an inner system, equally cruel and exploiting, which we call religion. I mean by religion the organized system of thought which holds the individual in the groove of a particular pattern. After all, Christianity, Hinduism, Buddhism, are so many sets of beliefs, ideas, precepts, which have become seasoned in fear and tradition, which force the individual through faith and illusory hope to think and to act along one particular line, blindly and unintelligently, with the help of exploiting priests. Each religion throughout the world, with its vested interests, with its beliefs, dogmas and traditions, is separating man from man, as nationalism and classes are doing. it is utterly futile to hope that there will be one religion throughout the world, either Hinduism, or Buddhism, or Christianity, although it is the dream of the missionaries. But we can approach this whole idea of religion from a totally different point of view. Please listen patiently and without prejudice to what I have to say, because religion, like politics, is a very touchy subject. If a person is religious, he usually becomes so dogmatic, so violent when one begins to question the whole structure of religion, that he is incapable of thinking clearly and straightly. So I would beg those of you who are listening to me, perhaps for the first time, to listen without any antagonism and with a desire to find out the significance of what I am saying. If we can understand life and live here in this world with love, supremely and intelligently in the present, then religion becomes vain and useless. Because we have been constantly told by exploiters that we cannot do this ourselves, we have come to believe that we must have a system to follow. So without being helped to free himself, man is encouraged to follow a system and is held, through fear, a prisoner to authority which he hopes will guide him through the various conflicts and perplexities of life. To get rid of the idea of religion merely, without deep understanding, will naturally lead to superficial activities, reaction and thought. If we are really able to live with profound intelligence, then we shall not create an escape from our miseries and struggles; which is what religion has become. That is, because we find life so difficult, with so many problems and apparently unending miseries, we want an escape; and religions offer a very convenient method of escape. Every Sunday people go to church to pray and to practise brotherly love, but the rest of the week they are engaged in ruthless exploitation and cruelty, each one seeking his own security. So people are living a hypocritical life: Sunday for God, and the rest of the week for self security. Thus we use religion as a convenient escape to which we resort in moments of difficulty and misery. So, through this system which is called religion, with its beliefs and ideals, you have found an authorized escape from the incessant battle of the present. After all, ideals, which religions and religious bodies offer, are nothing but escapes from the present. Now why do we want ideals? It is because, as we cannot understand the present, the everyday existence with its cruelties, sorrows and ugliness, we want to steer ourselves across this life by some ideal. Hence ideals themselves become, fundamentally, an escape from the present. Our mind is caught up in creating many escapes from the present which alone is the eternal, Being imprisoned in those, mind must naturally be in constant battle with the present. So, instead of seeking new methods, new prisons, we ought to understand for ourselves how the mind is creating for itself these avenues of escape. Hence the question is: Are you satisfied to live in this prison of illusion, in this prison of make-believe with its stupidities and suffering? Or are you as individuals dissatisfied, in revolt? Are you willing to disentangle yourselves from this system, thus discovering for yourselves what is true? If you are merely satisfied to remain in the prison, then the only thing that will awaken you is sorrow; but when that sorrow comes, you seek an escape from it, and so you create yet another prison. So you go on from one suffering to another, only to enter into greater bondage. But if you realize the utter futility of escape of any kind, either of ideals or beliefs, then you will, with intense awareness, perceive the true significance of beliefs, traditions and ideals. In understanding their deep significance, the mind, free from all illusion is able to discern truth, the everlasting. So instead of merely seeking new systems, new methods to replace the present mode of thought, of exploitation, of subtle escapes, take the actuality as it is, with all its exploitations, cruelties, bestialities, and understand the whole significance of this system; and this can be done only when there is great suffering. Out of this intense questioning and inquiry you will realize for yourself that consummation of all human existence which is intelligence. Without that realization life becomes shallow, empty, and suffering merely a constant recurrence without an end. So if those who are suffering try to understand the full depth of the present, without any fear or any desire for escape, then without the need of priests and saviours, there is the realization of that which is the lasting, of that which cannot be measured by words. Question: If the intelligence of most people is so limited that they cannot find truth for themselves, are not Masters and teachers necessary to show them the way? Krishnamurti: If we merely consider that the unintelligent need the intelligent, we shall keep the unintelligent ever as unintelligent. If you think that a stupid man needs a guide, a Master, then you will create circumstances to hold him in stupidity. If the intelligent perceive the necessity to help the stupid, not towards any particular system or belief or dogma, but to be intelligent, then the unintelligent will not be exploited. But the question is not whether the stupid man needs Masters, saviours, but whether you need them. In truly questioning this need, you will discover that no one can save you, that no one can give you understanding; for understanding lies through your own discernment. Intelligence is not the gift of Masters and teachers, but it is of your own creative perception and action. Question: Cannot man be liberated through science? Krishnamurti: It may save man from many sorrows, but there is a great deal of suffering, misery and exploitation, even though science is far advanced. Each one knows the bestiality and ugliness of war, the result of vested interest and nationalism. in what way has science prevented this suffering, this disease? It is the heart of man that must be changed, but why wait for some future day when it is now in your power to bring about a sane and intelligent alteration? Question: I should like to know if we need to pray, and how to pray. Krishnamurti: Sir, isn't it the fundamental idea of prayer to seek aid and understanding beyond ourselves? If that is so, we are depending on something, which makes us weaker in our own intelligence. Question: Is the soul a reality? Krishnamurti: Again I would ask the audience to listen without prejudice, without bigotry, to this point. When you talk about the "soul", you mean a something between the material and the spiritual, between body and God. So you have divided life into matter, spirit, and God. Isn't that so? If I may say this, you who talk about "soul", know nothing about it, you are accepting it merely on authority, or it is based on some hope, on some unfulfilled longing. You have accepted on authority many fundamental ideas, as you have accepted "soul" to be a reality. Please consider what I am going to say, without any prejudice either in favour of or against the idea of soul, and without any preconceived ideas, in order to discover what is true. The only actuality of which we are fully cognizant, with which we have to concern ourselves, is suffering; we are conscious of that constant unfulfillment, limitation, incompleteness which causes conflict and suffering. This consciousness of sorrow is the only actuality from which you can start, and it is only in understanding the cause of suffering and being intelligently free from it, that there comes the ecstasy of reality. When the mind has disentangled itself from all illusions and hopes, then there is the bliss of reality Through all this conflict and misery, one feels that there must be a reality, a God, an infinite intelligence, or whatever one may call it. That feeling may be merely a reaction from this agony, and therefore unreal, and so its pursuit must lead to ever increasing illusions; or it may be the intrinsic desire to discover truth which cannot be measured or systematized. If we can discover what creates conflict and who is the creator of sorrow, then in uprooting the cause of this there can be the true felicity of man. This almost ceaseless battle, this seemingly unending sorrow, is created by that limited consciousness which we call the "I". We have created about ourselves many false values, false ideals, to which the mind has become a slave. There is a constant struggle taking place between these illusions and the present, and there must ever be conflict as long as these self-protective illusions exist. This conflict creates in our minds the idea of the particular, the "I". So from this limited consciousness arises division as the "I", the impermanent, and the "I", the permanent, the eternal. When the mind is wholly free from the self-protective illusions and false values which are the cause of limited consciousness and of its many stupidities, then each one shall realize for himself whether there is truth or not. If I merely said there is a soul, I should but add another belief to your many beliefs. So of what value would it be? Whereas, the only actuality of which we are conscious is this struggle, this suffering, this exploitation to which we have become slaves; and in intelligently freeing ourselves, not escaping from it, we shall discern the lasting in the transient, the real in the illusion. May 28, 1935 MONTEVIDEO 1ST PUBLIC TALK 21ST JUNE, 1935 Friends, There is a distinct art of listening, especially to those ideas to which, perhaps, you are not quite accustomed. So I would beg of you to listen without prejudice to what I am going to say, which does not mean that you must have a negative mind. Some of you here may think that you possess already a definite mode of life and therefore it is not very important to listen carefully; and to those who have come out of curiosity, there is very little to be said. To listen properly, there must be neither opposition nor antagonism. Most people have a certain background of tradition, prejudice, hope and fear which they put forward as a defence; and this, which is but opposition, they call criticism. If, for instance, you are a Christian or you belong to some other religion or to some political party, you will try, with your particular prejudices, to oppose what I am going to say. This is not true criticism. But there is an active form of criticism which demands a clear and an open mind - being conscious of one's prejudices, one's limitations, and at the same time trying to find out the intrinsic value of what the speaker has to say. So, putting aside the background of tradition and habit of thought in which mind constantly dwells, pursue critically, without accepting what I am going to say. What I have to say is fundamentally simple, and not very philosophical, metaphysical or complicated. As I happen to come from India, people are apt to think that what I say is metaphysical and impractical, and so often brush aside the ideas which I try to put forward. Now to understand the present chaos with all its miseries, conflicts and difficulties, real criticism is required; not acceptance, but an active form of critical examination. If you merely accept a new set of ideas or a new system of thought, you are only substituting the new in place of the old, and so do not fundamentally understand the cause of suffering and the many problems that confront each one of you. My intention is not to put forward a new theory or a new system of thought, or a new practice of discipline, but to awaken that understanding of the present; for in understanding the existing chaos and suffering in which man is caught, he will know for himself how to live completely, intelligently and divinely. In your suffering, you are apt to turn to the established authority or create a new one, which will not in any way help you to understand and free yourself from the cause of suffering. But if you truly understood the significance of the present, then you would not turn to any authority whatsoever, but being intelligent, actively conscious, you would be able to adjust yourself constantly to the movement of life. So, if each one can understand the present, then he will discover for himself how to live intelligently and supremely. That is, by discovering and eradicating the cause of existing chaos, of human suffering, of spiritual and economic exploitation, each one will truly fulfil. In his search for security and comfort, man has consciously or unconsciously separated life into two divisions: we might call these divisions, for the moment, the material and the spiritual. The material - the economic or the social world - is based entirely on acquisitiveness, which has developed, naturally, class distinctions. That is, each one in his individual search for his own security, his own comfort, has created an economic and social system of ruthless exploitation. Out of this is born the disease of nationalism, with all its absurdities and cruelties, which must engender wars and the divisions of people. The means of acquiring wealth, the machine, in the hands of the few, has led to immense suffering; and to maintain this vested interest, separate political parties have been formed which disregard man entirely, using him only to further their own power and importance. In fact, this system is based wholly on individual and family security, which must inevitably create ruthless exploitation, the distinction of classes, nationalism and wars. In this complicated tradition of false values which he has so sedulously built up through the centuries, the individual is caught. Briefly, without going into many details which you can think out for yourself, this system of thought and habit is influencing, dominating, coercing the individual to conform to this civilization of acquisition. Then, in the world of the spiritual there is also acquisitiveness, only in a different form. Perhaps to some of you this may appear strange, while you may be familiar with the ordinary material form of acquisitiveness. As this may be new to you, please listen advisedly and carefully. In the world of the spiritual, the search for security is expressed through the desire for immortality. In each one there is the desire to remain permanent, eternal. This is what all religions promise, an immortality in the hereafter, which is but a subtle form of egotistic security. Now, anyone that promises this selfish continuance, which you call immortality, consciously or unconsciously become your authority. Look at the various religions in the world and you will see that out of your own desire for security, for salvation, for continuance, you have created a subtle and cruel authority to which you have become utterly enslaved, which is constantly crippling your thought, your love. Now, to interpret this authority, you must have mediators whom you call priests, who become in fact your exploiters. (Applause) Perhaps you applaud rather too quickly - because you are the creators of these exploiters. (Laughter, applause) Some of you may not consciously create these spiritual authorities, but subtly, unknowingly, you are creating other kinds of exploiters. You may not go to a priest, but this does not mean that you are not exploiting or exploited. Where there is the desire for security, certainty, there must be authority, and you give yourself over entirely to those people who promise to guide you, to help you to realize that security. So religions have become throughout the world the receptacle of vested interest, and of organized, closed belief. (Applause) Sirs, may I suggest something? Please don't bother to applaud, as it is a waste of time. As religions promise immortality, so they have created ideals, which have become merely a means of escape from the present. After all, what are all your ideals? They but offer a subtle means of flight from actuality. Let me take an example which perhaps will make this clear. You profess the ideal of brotherly love, and that is the ideal with which the majority of you have been brought up. But what is taking place in actuality? There is the distinction of classes, of religions with their beliefs, dogmas and divisions, and of nationalism with its exploitation and wars. So what is the good of your ideals? Ideals but become drugs which prevent you from thinking clearly and understanding fully the present. Religions, with their beliefs, dogmas and creeds, have become tremendous barriers between human beings, dividing man against man, limiting him and destroying his intelligence. Please understand what I mean by religion. I mean by religion organized thought and belief which have become receptacles of vested interest and in which authority is firmly rooted. So, having created these two divisions in life, the material and the spiritual, we turn in moments of great crisis, great suffering and misery, to experts along these two lines. In moments of intense suffering, we seek comfort from these authorities and experts. And what happens when you look up to another? Gradually and unconsciously you create authority, you give yourself over to it entirely and become merely a part of that system of thought; and, as there are innumerable experts along these two lines, you become tools in their hands to fight other experts and their groups. What is your answer to all this? On the one hand you can say that man is nothing but clay, matter to be moulded, and that he is but the result of environment, to be controlled and shaped. If this is so, then the whole question of his creative expression and fulfillment, his intelligent happiness and moral action, is of no great importance and of no special consequence. If you think fundamentally that man is nothing but clay to be fashioned by circumstances, then you must create circumstances, laws, authorities that will ruthlessly control, dominate individual expression and action. Or, if man is not mere clay to be conditioned, to be moulded into a particular shape, then there must be a complete revolution in your ideas and actions. That is, sirs, there are only two possibilities: one of complete domination and control; and the other, the voluntary creation of right environment for the fulfillment of man. You must belong to one or the other of these; you cannot play with both. Either you consider man as merely a social entity, and therefore you ruthlessly shape and control his whole social and creative action; or, if he is not merely that, but something much more, then there must be a fundamental revolution in your thought and action. If you voluntarily discern this, then your acquisitive action, your thought based on security, must undergo a complete change. If you consider that man has within himself the greatest capacity for intelligence, then you must remove the innumerable fears, punishments and rewards with which you guide and dominate him. But if you think that man is merely clay to be shaped, then you will increase all the fears and punishments which will dominate and coerce him So you, as individuals, will have to discover for yourselves upon what your action is based, whether upon compulsion or upon voluntary understanding. We see so much exploitation, so much misery and suffering, and we don't seem to find a comprehensive answer. We are satisfied by one day's remedy. But if we can really, fundamentally understand this problem of compulsion, domination, then we shall find a true and lasting answer to the many aches and agonies of life. This means that as each one has been so twisted, perverted, limited by past and present environment he must now begin to question the true significance of the innumerable values to which he has become a slave. To do this there must be a continual awakened interest and alertness to free the mind from all pressure and influence, to make it clear, simple, so that there is direct discernment of what is true. We have three kinds, if I may so divide it, of individual, egotistic expression. One is the search for immortality, the desire for selfish continuance, which prevents the complete understanding of the present, the only eternity. As long as the mind is pursuing its own egotistic continuance. thinking that this is immortality, there cannot be the flow of reality, that unique intelligence which is not yours or mine. To understand and realize this, mind must be free from that consciousness which has been created through many hindrances, through authority, through values based on acquisitive and self-protective fears. When the mind is free from its own egotistic limitation and impediments, when it is creatively empty, there is born that reality which is immeasurable, not to be discussed but to be experienced, lived. Then there is that selfish acquisitiveness of things, that possessiveness, with all its subtle cruelties and exploitations, by which the mind seeks to establish its own security and comfort. Finally. there is the pursuit of sensation. Now if you desire to understand truth, mind must be free from these impediments and limitations. As individuals you must become conscious, fully conscious of your actions. You cannot give yourself over to authority, to experts, but you must be continually aware of your action and its cause; then the mind will discern the bondage, the hindrance in which thought is caught. So gradually the mind, which is now crippled, unconscious, becomes conscious and thereby discovers the limitations which it has created for itself in search of its own security. And when the mind is utterly naked, then there is that creative intelligence, that continual becoming. Question: What is your truth? Krishnamurti: There cannot be your truth and my truth. There is only truth, and you can understand its unique quality only when the mind is free of "yours" and "mine". The "you" and the "me" are only memories, based on self-protective and accumulative reaction against intelligence. When the mind is free from that sense of "mind", then there is life, there is truth. There is only love, but when you imprison it within the walls of possessiveness, then it becomes "yours", and its beauty fast withers away. Question: If you live in an eternal now, having annihilated the idea of time and broken the ties that bind you to the past, how can you speak about your past and about your previous experiences? Are not these memories ties? Krishnamurti: If action is born out of a prejudice, a hindrance, then it creates further limitation and brings sorrow. But if it is the outcome of discernment, then action is ever renewing itself and is never limiting. This liberation of action does not mean that you cannot remember incidents, but those past incidents will no longer control action. If one acts through the background of many prejudices, surely that action, being impeded, must inevitably create a further limitation of the mind. If one has a background of religious prejudices, action must create conflict in the present. But if one begins to question and thus understand the significance of values, traditions, ideals, past accumulations which make up the background, then the mind shall know the beauty of action without sorrow. Experiment with what I am saying and you will know. We have many prejudices, fears, accumulative values, which are continually thwarting fulfillment in action, and so there is an ever increasing incompleteness and the burden of tomorrow. June 21, 1935 MONTEVIDEO 2ND PUBLIC TALK 26TH JUNE, 1935 Friends, Many questions have been put to me, and before I answer some of them I will say a few words by way of introduction. I think it would be rather vain and absurd if you merely dismissed what I say as being communistic or anarchistic, or by saying that it is nothing new. To find out whether it is of any significant value, and to test whether it has any essential quality of truth, one must experiment with it and not merely dismiss it. To find out the quality of any idea that I put forward, you must carry it into action, with deliberate and conscious thought. Only then can you know the renewing quality of action in daily life - for we are concerned most with that intelligent action which shall reveal the richness, the fullness of life. To discover for ourselves the manner of this action, there must not be mere rejection or blind acceptance of the ideas which I have been trying to explain, but there must be true and conscious experiment. Then you will know the ever renewing quality of action. To live supremely, intelligently, we must find out for ourselves what are the hindrances or the prejudices that impede the free flow of reality. In understanding the significance of their cause and their existence, we shall voluntarily, without any compulsion, abandon them. Then only can there be the movement of reality. There is, amongst other hindrances, one that does incalculable damage to the mind. Before I explain what that impediment is, please do not jump to conclusions or think in terms of opposites. To understand its deep significance, mind must be very pliable and not merely conclusive, as this prevents the continuous penetration of reality. One of the greatest hindrances to the flow of reality, is authority. It is one of the most destructive barriers which we have created in our desire for self-protection and security. For convenience, let us divide authority into the inner and the outer. The outer authority is environment, tradition, habit, the closed morality of religion, the authority of experts, and the authority of vested interests. There is this outward environment which is continually impressing and forcing itself upon the individual, conditioning and perverting him. As long as we do not understand this limiting pressure of environment with its corroding influence, compelling us to act according to a particular pattern which is often considered as voluntary action, as long as we do not discern its true significance, there must be a continual conflict and suffering, thus ever increasing the limitation of action. By reacting to this outward compulsion, we begin to develop an inner authority, an inner law based on fear, on the self-protective memory of security and comfort, according to which we are continually adjusting and paralleling our conduct, and which in its own subtle way controls and limits thought and action and thus creates its own conflict and suffering. So we have the compulsion from without, and from within, which has been developed through our own desire for security, certainty, and which is continually perverting and twisting discernment. If the mind would understand reality, it must become wholly unburdened, fresh and uninfluenced. That is, you must become fully conscious, fully aware of the subtle influence of vested interests on the one hand, which I have explained as environmental, and on the other of that inward compulsion based on acquisitive and self-protective fear and memory. When you begin to be aware, when you begin to perceive that influence or authority in any form, gross or subtle. must pervert thought, then the mind, in freeing itself from its limitations, is capable of true discernment. For the action of authority, based fundamentally on self-protective desire, must ever increase stupidity and its illusions, destroying creative action, till gradually the individual is nothing but automatic reactions. When the individual consciously understands the deep significance of authority, when the mind is completely naked, creatively empty, then there is bliss. Many questions have been put to me, and I have chosen some which I think are representative. If your particular question is not chosen, please listen to the questions which I shall answer, and I think you will see that I am answering your question also. Question: You gave us the impression in your first talk that you were destroying the old values and clearing the way. In the following talks, are you going to build anew, giving us the essence of your teaching? Krishnamurti: Now, I cannot destroy values which have been created by each individual, and which have become the means of exploitation either by society or by religion. You, by your own effort, by your own understanding of the true significance of existing values, can begin to destroy those that are essentially false. If I merely destroy the old and establish a new set of values, you are none the freer, you will only become prisoners to the new. There is no fundamental difference, only a change of prisons. So please understand the purpose of these talks. Truth cannot be handed to you. You, through your own creative understanding, have to discover for yourself the true in the false. If I merely built a new system or structure of thought, it would become another kind of authority and prison, whereas if you, through your own discernment, begin to discover what is true, you are then releasing that creative energy of intelligence which is truth. Truth is unique; it is not many-sided; it is complete. Each one must come to it without any compulsion, without following anyone, without any adjustment to a system or pattern. You have to battle against the false values that man has created through centuries, which are now being imposed on him ruthlessly, those values which you as individuals have established for yourselves in the desire for self-protection and security. It does not much matter what name you give to me; and it cannot matter very much to you what I am. What matters is whether you in your suffering are truly destroying the false values that enclose you, or creating further barriers that shall imprison man. The questioner asks, "In the following talks, are you going to build anew, giving us the essence of your teaching?" Most of us are seeking explanations. Explanations are merely so much dust in the eyes. If you take even one of the ideas which I have put forward, and become aware of its full significance, you are then beginning to release creative intelligence. You will find fulfillment through your own action, and not through any particular system of thought. Question: Do you believe that a man of low culture, oppressed, earning a miserable wage, with a wife and children to support, can save himself spiritually and economically without help and guidance? Krishnamurti: Economically, man certainly cannot be individualistic which he has been through these many centuries, causing chaos, exploitation and misery. But spiritually, if I may use that much abused word, he must be a complete individual. That is, when he begins to discover for himself and discard the false values which he has established through his search for protection and security, he awakens in himself true intelligence. At present he is being driven ruthlessly in this false, individualistic system. When you begin voluntarily to question, to investigate and discard the false values which religions and society have established, you awaken that unique intelligence which is creative co-operation, and not compulsory, slavish adjustment. Without this intelligence you act merely like so many machines. For the fundamental change which shall bring about collective co-operation there must be complete, true and individual freedom of thought; but it is one of the most difficult things to realize, for we have been trained through centuries to obey and to adjust ourselves to a standard. The desire to create authority and to follow it is subtly ingrained in us. When there is a problem, we seek help, which we too easily find. Thus gradually and almost unconsciously we establish authority, to which we give ourselves over completely, till there is no thought apart from the system, apart from the established tradition and ideas. Now the questioner wants to know whether a man of low state, low education, can realize that spiritual and true intelligence, that uniqueness. He can if he begins vigorously to question and to discover the significance of established values, and thus release creative thought. Unfortunately, such people have very little time to themselves, they are overworked, they are exhausted at the end of the day. But you who are supposed to be educated, who have leisure, can see to it that these others have also the right environment in which to live and think, and are not ceaselessly imposed upon and exploited. The deep quality of intelligence is not found through mere education; it is not the result of slavish obedience to authority, or of the imposition of social morality, but it happens through the diligent discovery of right values. When there is such unique intelligence, then there will not he exploitation, domination and the cruel pursuit of selfish success. Question: How can we be certain that happiness will result from the destruction of scientific, religious, moral and psychological prejudices? Krishnamurti: You want a guarantee from me that by giving up something you will get something else in return. (Laughter) We approach life with the mentality of a merchant, and do not see that prejudice is inherently false. We want, before we renounce what we possess, to be assured that we shall receive something in return. And this is true of the whole pursuit of virtue. But the mentality that renounces in order to attain something else can never find happiness; such a mentality can never understand the pure quality of truth, which is to be understood only for its own beauty, not as a recompense. Now if you think seriously about it, you will see that our whole system of thought is based on this idea of recompense. After all, the cultured man acts without seeking a reward. This requires, not only the recognition of the falseness of reward, but the understanding, the discernment of intrinsic values. If you are a true artist or a man who really loves his work, then you are not seeking a reward. It is only the person who is not in love with life that is constantly seeking, in a gross or subtle manner, a recompense or reward, for his actions are born out of fear; and how can such a person understand the swiftness, the subtle quality of truth? Question: Are you trying to free the individual, or awaken in him the desire for freedom? Krishnamurti: If you are not suffering, if you are not in conflict, if there is no problem, no crisis in your life, then there is very little to be said. That is, if you are asleep, then the action of life must first awaken you. But what happens generally when you begin to suffer? You immediately seek a remedy that will ease your suffering. So gradually in your search for comfort, you again put yourself to sleep through your own effort; and what another can do is merely to point out how you are doing this. You put yourself to sleep by seeking comfort, which you call the search for God, for truth. When the mind is awakened through a shock, which you call suffering, that is the true moment to inquire into the cause of suffering, without seeking comfort. If you observe, you will see that when there is acute suffering, your thought is searching out a remedy, a comfort. And you do find a remedy, which dulls the mind and turns it away from the cause of suffering, thus creating an illusion. To put it differently, when the mind dwells in an accustomed groove of thought, then there is no conflict, then there is no suffering, no awakened interest in life. But when you have an experience of some kind that gives you a shock, which is called suffering and which awakens you from habit, then your immediate reaction is to seek another comfort to which thought can again become accustomed. The mind is searching constantly for certainties so that it shall be secure and not be disturbed, and hence life becomes full of fears and defensive reactions. But experience is continually destroying our certainties, and yet subtly we seek to create others. So life becomes a continual process of struggle and suffering, creation and destruction. But if the mind did not seek finalities, conclusions and securities, then it would find that there is constant adjustment, an understanding of the significance of the movement of life; and in that alone is there lasting reality, in that alone is there happiness. Question: What do you mean by "religion"? I feel myself reunited to God through Christ. And through whom are you reunited to God? Krishnamurti: I mean by religion, organized belief, creed, dogma and authority. That is one form of religion. Then there is the religion of ceremonies, which is but sensation and pageantry. Then there is the religion of personal experience. The first forces the individual to conform to a certain pattern for his own good through fear, through faith, dogma and creed. The second impresses divinity on the worshipper through show and pageantry. With the third, personal experience, we shall deal presently. Now, organized religion must inevitably create divisions and conflict between men. You see this throughout the world. Hinduism, like Christianity, Buddhism and other organized religions, has its own peculiar beliefs and dogmas, which are almost impenetrable barriers between men, destroying their love. And what value, what significance have these religions, when they are fundamentally based on fear? If you discern the falseness of organized belief, that through any particular belief you cannot understand reality, nor through any authority whatsoever can intelligence be awakened, then you as individuals, not as an organized group, will free yourselves from this destructive imposition. This means that you must question from the very beginning the whole idea of belief; but this involves great suffering, for it is not a mere intellectual process. A man who only inquires intellectually into the question of belief shall find nothing but dust. If a man who is deeply suffering, questions this whole structure based on fear and authority, then he shall find those waters of life which shall quench his thirst. Then there is that personal experience which is also called religious experience. It requires greater frankness, greater effort on our part to unravel the illusions that are connected with this. When there is so much confusion, misery and uncertainty, we want to find stabil- ity, peace and happiness. That is, instead of discerning the cause of this suffering, we want to run away from conflict to something that will give us contentment and constant hope. So with this craving we create and develop illusions that give us intense satisfaction, encouragement and happiness, whose sensation and thrill we generally call religious experience. If you really examine impersonally, without any prejudice, these so-called religious experiences, you will see that they are nothing but self- evolved compensations for suffering. So what people call religious experience is merely an escape into an illusion which they call a reality, in which they live, thinking that it is God, truth and so on. If you are suffering, instead of seeking happiness, the opposite, discern the fundamental cause of suffering, and begin to free yourself from that cause; then there is that reality which cannot be measured by words. A mind that desires to understand truth must be free from these three illusions: from organized belief, with its authority and dogmas; from ceremonies, with their pageantry and sensation; and from those self-created illusions with their satisfactions and destructive happiness. When the mind is really without any prejudice, is not seeking a reward or cultivating a deity or hoping for immortality, then in that clear discernment there is the birth of reality. Question: I am a priest, and I think I am fairly representative of the priesthood in general. I have had no revelation or mystic experience whatever; but what I preach from the pulpit I sincerely believe, because I have read it in sacred books. My words give consolation to those who listen to me. Should I give up helping them and leave my ministry because I have no such direct experience? Krishnamurti: Sir, what is it that you call helping people? If you want to pacify them, drug them to sleep, then you must have revelation and authority. Because there is so much suffering, we think that by giving comfort to people we are helping them. This giving of comfort is nothing but putting them to sleep; thus the comforter becomes the exploiter. Don't merely laugh at the question and pass it by, saying that it does not apply to you. What is it that you are seeking? If you are seeking comfort, then you will find comforters and be drugged into contentment. But what can anyone truly teach you? What another can help you to do is to discern for yourself whether you are escaping from actuality into an illusion. This means that the person who talks, who preaches, must himself be free from illusions. Then he will be able to help people even without reading sacred books. He will help the individual to keep awake, alive to the actualities of life, freed from all illusion. In discerning an illusion the mind frees itself from it, through deep understanding, and destroys the creator of illusion, which is that centre of limited consciousness, the "I", the ego. If you want really to help man because you yourself perceive the utter chaos and suffering that exists, you will not give him any drug that will put him to sleep, but will help him to discover for himself those causes which impede the birth of intelligence. It is difficult to teach truly without dominating, asserting; and both the teacher and the pupil must be free from the subtle influence of authority, for all authority perverts and destroys all understanding. Question: Do you believe in God? Krishnamurti: What is important is to find out why you seek God; for when you are happy or when you are in love, you do not seek love, happiness. Then you don't believe in love, you are love. It is only when there is no joy, no happiness, that you try to seek it. You are seeking God because you say to yourself, "I cannot understand this life, with its misery, injustice, with its exploitations and cruelties, with its changing love and its constant uncertainties. If I can understand the reality which is God, then all these things will pass away." To a man in a prison, freedom can be only in imaginative flight. Your search for reality, for God, is but an escape from actuality. If you begin to free yourself from the cause of suffering, free the mind from the brutalities of personal ambition and success, from the craving for individual security, then there is truth, reality. Then you will not ask another if there is God. The search for God to the vast majority of people is but an escape from conflict, suffering. They call this escape religion, the search for eternity; but what they are really seeking is merely a drug to put them to sleep. The fundamental cause of man's suffering is his egotism, expressing itself in many ways, essentially in his search for security through immortality, possessiveness and authority. When the mind is free from these causes which create conflict, then you will understand, without beliefs, that which is immeasurable, that which is reality. A mind weighed down with belief, with prejudice, a mind that is prepared, cannot discover the unknown. The mind must be wholly naked, without any support, without any longing or hope. Then there is reality, which cannot be measured by words. So do not seek vainly for that which is, but discover the impediments, the hindrances that prevent the mind from perceiving truth. When the mind is creatively empty there is the immeasurable. Question: What is immortality? Krishnamurti: To understand immortality and its real significance, your mind must be free of all religious prejudice. That is, you have already an idea of what immortality must be, which is the outcome of intense desire to continue as a limited consciousness. All the religions throughout the world promise this egotistic immortality. If you would understand immortality, mind must be free of this craving for individual continuance. Now, when you say that "I" must continue, what is this "I"? The "I" is nothing but the form, the name, certain qualities and memories, certain fears and prejudices, certain limited desires and unfulfilled actions. All these compose the "I", which becomes that limited consciousness, the ego. You desire that this limited consciousness shall continue. That is, when you ask if there is immortality, you are inquiring whether the "I" will continue, that "I" which is inherently a frustrated consciousness. To put it differently, in truly creative moments of thought or of expression, there is no consciousness as the "I". It is only in moments of conflict, suffering, that the mind becomes conscious of its own limitation, which is called the "I; and we have become so accustomed to limitation that we crave for its continuance, thinking that this is immortality. Thus anyone who guarantees to you this immortality, becomes your authority. Grossly or subtly, that authority begins to exploit you through fear. So you who are seeking this selfish, illusory immortality, are creating exploiters with all their cruelties. But if you are really free of that limited consciousness with its illusions, hopes and fears, then there is the eternal movement, the continual becoming, not of the "I", but of life itself Question: Don't you think that any movement or social upheaval that succeeds in educating the younger generation without any religious ideas or thought of the hereafter, is a positive step in human progress? Krishnamurti: Religious ideas do not merely limit themselves to the hereafter. It is much more profound. The desire to be secure gives birth to the thought about the hereafter and to many other subtleties which create fear, and to be free from it needs great discernment. Only a mind that is insecure will understand truth; a mind that is not prepared, that is not conditioned by fear, shall be open to the unknown. So let us concern ourselves with limitations and their cause. The question is this: Can we train children not to seek security? Now, to educate another, you must begin with yourself. Are you fundamentally free of this idea of security? Are you entirely vulnerable to life, without any self-protective wall? To discover this, begin to be aware, begin to question all the values that now enclose the mind. Then you will discover, through your own intelligent awakening, the true significance of security. June 26, 1935 MONTEVIDEO 3RD PUBLIC TALK 28TH JUNE, 1935 Friends, Many questions have been sent to me regarding the present social conditions, alcoholism. prostitution, civilization, and so on. I have been asked also, why I do not join certain societies and political parties in order to help the world. In reply to all these many questions, I feel that if we can really grasp the fundamental principle underlying our human struggle, then we shall understand these problems and truly solve them. We must understand the fundamental causes of struggle and suffering and then our action will inevitably bring a complete change. Our whole interest should be turned, not towards solving any one particular problem, not towards any particular end or definite objective, but towards understanding life as an integrated whole. To do this, limitations that have been placed on the mind, crippling thought and action, must be discerned and dissolved. If thought is really free from the innumerable impediments we have imposed upon it in our search for security, then we will meet life as a whole, and in this lies great bliss. Now, the mind creates and becomes a slave to authority, and hence action is being constantly impeded, crippled, which is the cause of suffering. If you observe your own thought, you will see how it is caught between the past and the present. Thought is continually paralleling, guiding itself by the past, and adjusting itself to the future; thus action becomes incomplete in the present, which creates in our minds the idea of non-fulfillment, out of which comes the fear of death, the consideration of the hereafter, and the many limitations born of incompleteness. If the mind can completely understand the significance of the present, then action becomes fulfillment without creating further conflict and suffering, which is but the result of limited action, of impediments placed on thought through fear. To release thought in order that action may flow without creating for itself limitations and barriers, mind must be free from this continual imposition of the past, and also free from the future pattern which is but an escape from the present. Please, this is not as complicated as it sounds. Watch your own mind functioning and you will see that it guides itself by the past, or it is adjusting itself to a future ideal or pattern, so the significance of the present is completely covered over. In this way, action is creating its own limitation, instead of liberating thought and emotion; action is being constantly influenced by the past and the future. The past is tradition, those values which we have accepted and the significance of which we have not deeply understood. Then there are moral values against which you are constantly measuring your action. If you deeply examine these values, you will discern that they are based on self-protection and security, and merely adjusting action to such values is not fulfillment, nor is it moral. Again, observe yourself and you will see how memory is ever placing a limitation on your thought and so on action. This memory is really a self-protective adjustment to life, which is often called self-discipline. Such discipline is nothing but a defensive system against sorrow, a cunning protection and guard against experience, life itself. So the past, which is tradition, values, habits, memories, is conditioning thought, and thus action is incomplete. The future is nothing but an escape from actuality, through an ideal to which we try to adjust the present, the immediate action. These ideals are merely safeguards, hopes, illusions born of incompleteness and frustration. So the future is placing a hindrance in the way of action and fulfillment. Thought, which should be in constant movement, is attaching itself either to the past or the future, and out of this comes that limited consciousness, the "I", which is but incompleteness. Now to understand reality, the deep significance of the movement of life, which is the eternal, thought must be free from this attachment to and influence of the past and the future; mind must be completely naked, without any escape or support, without the power of creating illusion. In that clarity, in that simplicity, there is born, as the flower, truth, the ecstasy of life. Question: Intellectually I understand what you say, but how am I to put it into action? Krishnamurti: I doubt, if I may say so, that you really understand what I am saying, even intellectually; for when you talk of understanding intellectually, you mean that you theoretically grasp an idea, but not its deep significance, which can be caught only in action. Most of us want to avoid action, because that necessarily creates circum- stances and conditions which bring about conflict; and thought, being cunning, avoids disturbance, suffering. So it says to itself, "I understand intellectually, but how am I to put it into action?" You never ask how to put an idea into action if that idea is of real significance to you. The man who says, "Tell me how to act", does not wish to think deeply about the matter but merely desires to be told what to do, which creates the pernicious system of authority, following and sectarianism. I am afraid the majority of you, after hearing these talks, will say, "You have given us nothing practical." Your mind is accustomed to systematized thought and unconscious action, and you are willing to follow any new system which will give you further security. If you take one idea which I put forward and really go into it deeply through action, then you will discover the ever renewing quality of complete action, and from this alone comes the true ecstasy of life. Question: Do you believe in the existence of the soul? Does this continue to live infinitely after the death of the body? Krishnamurti: Most people believe in the existence of the soul in some form or other. Now you will not understand what I am going to say if, in defence, you merely oppose it, or quote some authority for your belief which is cultivated through tradition and fear; nor can this belief be called intuition when it is only a vague hope. Illusion divides itself infinitely. The soul is a division, born of illusion. There is first the body, then there is the soul that occupies it, and finally there is God or reality: this is how you have divided life. Now the limited consciousness of the "I", is the result of incomplete actions, and this limited consciousness is creating its own illusions and is caught in its own ignorance; and when the mind is free from its own ignorance and illusion, then there is reality, not "you" becoming that reality. Please do not accept what I say, but begin to question and understand how your own belief has come into being. Then you will see how subtly the mind has divided life. You will begin to understand the significance of this division, which is a subtle form of egotistic desire for continuance. As long as this illusion, with all its subtleties, exists, there cannot be reality. As this is one of the most controversial subjects and there exists so much prejudice with regard to it, one has to be very careful not to be swayed by opinion for or against the idea of the soul. In understanding reality, this question as to whether there is a soul or not, will be answered. To understand reality, mind must be utterly free from the limitation of fear. with its craving for egotistic continuance. Question: What have you to say about the sexual problem? Krishnamurti: Why has sex become a problem? It is a problem because we have lost that creative force which we call love. Because there is no love, sex becomes a problem. Love has become merely possession, and not that supremely intelligent adjustment to life. When we have lost that love and merely depend on sensation, then love and sex become a cruel problem. To understand this question deeply and to live greatly with love, mind must be free from the desire to possess. This requires great intelligence and discernment. There are no immediate remedies for these vital problems. If you really want to solve them intelligently, you must alter the fundamental causes which create these problems. But if you merely deal with them superficially, then action springing from them, will create greater and more complicated problems. If you deeply understand the significance of possessiveness - in which there is cruelty, oppression, indifference - and the mind frees itself from that limitation, then life is not a problem, nor a school in which to learn; it is a life to be lived completely, in the fullness of love. Question: Do you believe in free will, in determinism, or in inexorable karma? Krishnamurti: We have the capacity to choose, and as long as this exists, however conditioned and however unjust, there must be limited freedom. Now our thought is conditioned by past experiences, memories; therefore it cannot be truly free. If you want to understand the eternal present, if you want to complete your action in the present, you must understand the cause of limitation, from which arises this division between consciousness and impeded consciousness. It is this limited consciousness, with its impeded action, that creates incompleteness, causing suffering. If action is not creating further limitations, then there is the continual movement of life. Karma, or the limitation of action in the present, is created through impeded consciousness of values, ideals, hopes which each one has not wholly understood. Only through deep discernment of these hindrances, can the mind liberate itself from the limitation of action. Question: I am enthusiastic about the united Christian front in a Christ-centric religion. I accept only the value which organizations have in themselves, and lay emphasis on the individual effort to find personal salvation. Do you believe that the united Christian front is feasible? Krishnamurti: Each religion maintains that there is only one true religion, itself, and tries to bring within its fold, within its limitation, people who are suffering. Religions thus create divisions between man and man. The point is, Why do you want a religion of any kind, religion being an organized system of beliefs, dogmas and creeds? You cling to it because you hope that it will act as a guide, giving you comfort and solace in times of trouble. So organized religion becomes a shelter, an escape from the continual impact of experience and of life. Through your own desire for protection you create an artificial structure which you call religion, which is in essence a comforting dope against actuality. If the mind discerns its own process of building up shelters and so avoiding life, then it will begin to disentangle itself from all unquestioned values which now limit it. When man truly realizes this, there will not be the spectacle of one religion competing with others for him, but he will be free from his own self-created illusions, and so awaken in himself that true intelligence which alone can destroy all the artificial distinctions and the many cruelties of intolerance. Question: Your observations upon authority were greeted in some quarters as an attack upon the churches. Don't you think you should make it clear to your listeners that this word "attack" is misapplied? Should not your words be better understood and be regarded as a means of enlightenment? For do not attacks lead to conflict, and is not harmony your objective? Krishnamurti: Should not traditions, beliefs, dogmas be questioned? Should not the social, moral values which we have built up for centuries be doubted and their significance discovered? By questioning deeply there will be individual conflict, which will awaken intelligence and not mere stupid revolt. This intelligence is true harmony. Harmony is not the blind acceptance of authority nor the easy satisfaction in unquestioned value. Sir, what I am saying is very simple. We have now about us many values, traditions, ideals, which we accept unquestioningly; for when we begin to question, there must be action, and being afraid of the result of such action, we go on meekly accepting, subjugating, adjusting ourselves to these false values, which will remain false as long as we merely accept them and do not voluntarily discern their significance. But when we begin to question and try to understand their deep significance, conflict must inevitably arise. Now, you cannot understand the true significance of values intellectually. You begin to discern it only when there is conflict, when there is suffering. But unless you are greatly aware, suffering will merely lead to the search for comfort. And the man who gives you comfort becomes your authority, and so you acquire other values which you again accept unquestioningly, thoughtlessly. In this vicious circle thought is held, and our suffering goes on day after day until we die, and so we come to hope that in the hereafter there will be happiness. Such an existence, with fear and bondage to authority, is a wasted life without fulfillment. If you begin to discern for yourself the deep significance of values that have been established, then you will discover for yourself how to live intelligently, supremely. This action of intelligence is true harmony. So do not seek mere harmony, but awaken intelligence. Do not try to cover up the existing disharmony and chaos, but fully understand its cause, which is our egoistic desires, pursuits and ambitions. Question: How can you talk about human suffering when you yourself have never experienced it? Krishnamurti: We want to judge others. Instead of basing your understanding of what I say on whether I have suffered or not, become aware of your own suffering, and then see if what I say has any value. If it has not, then whether I have suffered or not has no significance whatsoever. When the mind discerns and frees itself from the cause of its own suffering, then a life without exploitation, a life of deep love, is possible. Question: Do you believe that there is some truth in spiritualistic phenomena, or are they only auto-suggestions? Krishnamurti: Even after you have examined spiritualistic phenomena under very strict conditions - for there is so much charlatanism and deception about all this - of what value is it? What lies behind this question? Most of us want to know because we desire to be guided, or because we want to get into touch with those whom we have lost, hoping thus to free ourselves from loneliness, or cover up our agony with explanations. So, with most of us, the desire behind this question is, "How can I escape from suffering?" You want to be guided through life in order to avoid suffering, in order not to come into conflict with actuality. Hence you abandon the authority of a church, a sect or an idea, and rely on this new spiritualistic authority. But authority still guides and dominates you as before. Your life, through control, through escape, becomes more and more shallow, more and more incomplete. Why give more authority, more understanding to the dead than to the living? Where there is a desire to be guided, to seek security in authority, life must inevitably become a great sorrow and a great emptiness. The richness of life, the depth of understanding, the bliss of love can come only through the discernment of the false, of that which is illusory. Question: Should we destroy desire? Krishnamurti: We want to destroy desire because desire creates conflict and suffering. You cannot destroy desire; if you could, you would become but an empty shell. But let us discover what causes suffering, what prompts us to destroy our desire. Desire is continually trying to fulfil, and in its fulfillment there is pain, suffering and joy. Thus mind becomes merely the storehouse of memories, to guide, to warn. In order that desire, in its fulfillment, may not create suffering, mind begins to limit and protect itself with values and impositions based on fear. Thus gradually desire becomes more and more limited, narrow, and out of this limitation comes suffering which urges us to conquer and destroy desire, or forces us to find a new objective for desire. If we destroy desire, there is death; and if we merely change the objective of desire, find new ideals for desire, then it is only an escape from conflict, and so there can be no richness, no completeness. If there is no pursuit of limited, egoistic objectives or ideals, then desire is itself the continual movement of life. Question: If, as you say, immortality exists, we assume that, without desiring it, we shall inevitably realize it in the natural course of experience, thus not creating exploiters. But if we desire it, then we shall make of those who offer us immortality our conscious or unconscious exploiters. Is this what you wish to convey? Krishnamurti: I tried to explain how we create authority which necessitates exploitation. You create authorities in your desire for egotistic continuance, which you call immortality. If you crave for that limited consciousness, the "I", to continue, then he who gives you the promise of its endurance becomes your authority, which brings about the formation of a sect, and so on. Now immortality is not egotistic continuance at all. The realization of that which is immeasurable can only be when the mind is no longer bound to its own limited consciousness, when it is no longer pursuing its own security. As long as the mind is seeking its own protection, comfort, creating its own particular limitation, there cannot be eternal becoming. Question: Is man in any sense superior to woman? Krishnamurti: The question is surely put by a woman! Intelligence is neither superior nor inferior; it is unique. So don't let us discuss who is superior or who is inferior, but rather discover how to awaken that divinity. You can do it only by constant awareness. Where there is fear there is the submission to the many stupidities and compulsions of religion, of society, or to your wife, your husband or your neighbour. But when the mind, in its own awareness and suffering, deeply penetrates into the illusion of security with its many false values, then there is intelligence, an eternal becoming. June 28, 1935 UNIVERSITY OF MONTEVIDEO PUBLIC TALK 6TH JULY, 1935 Friends, To bring about a mass action there must be individual awakening; otherwise, the mass merely becomes an instrument in the hands of the few for the purpose of exploitation. So either you lend yourself to be exploited, or you begin to awaken true intelligence. which is to live completely. fully, with out exploitation. Now, what is it that will awaken the individual from his self satisfied, egotistic accumulations? The continual process of awakening the mind from its own limitations is true experience. When there is this action of experience on a limited mind, the awakening is called suffering. For most of us, the desire to cling to certainties, securities, to habits of thought, to traditions, is so great that anything which comes to shake us out of that groove of safety, out of those established values, thus creating insecurity, we call suffering. When there is suffering. there is an intense craving to escape from it, and so the mind creates further illusory values that are satisfying and consoling. These values are established through defensive reaction against intelligence. What we call values, moralities, are really based on this self-defensive reaction against the movement of life. To these values mind has become an unconscious slave. We have ideals, values, traditions, in which we are constantly taking shelter where there is conflict or suffering. intelligence, which is perception of the false and which is awakened through suffering, is again put to sleep by establishing other sets of values which will live in an illusory comfort. So we move from one illusion to another. There must be constant conflict and suffering till the mind is free from all illusions, till there is creative intelligence. Question: Is it one of the duties of teachers to show children that war in any of its forms is inherently wrong? Krishnamurti: What would happen to a teacher who really taught the whole significance and stupidity of war? He would soon be without a job. So, knowing that, he begins to compromise. (Laughter) You all laugh, you say it is perfectly true, but you are the very people who are maintaining this whole system of thought. If you really humanly felt the ugliness and cruelty of war, you as individuals would not contribute to all the steps leading up to nationalism and eventually to war. After all, war is merely the result of a system based on exploitation, on acquisitiveness. We hope by some miracle that this whole system will change. We do not want to act individually, voluntarily, freely, but we are waiting for a system to be created by others in which individually we will have no responsibility. If that happens, we shall merely become slaves to another system. If a teacher really feels that he must not teach war, because he understands the full significance of it, then he will act. A man who deeply and intelligently feels the cruelty of a thing in itself will act and not consider what will happen to him. (Applause) Question: What should be the real purpose of education? Krishnamurti: If you think that man is nothing but a machine, clay to be moulded, to be shaped according to a particular pattern, then you must have ruthless compulsion, rigorous discipline; for then you do not want to awaken individual intelligence, creative thinking, but you merely want the individual to be conditioned for a particular system. That is what is happening throughout the world, in some cases subtly, in others in a gross form. You see compulsion in various forms exercised over human beings, thus gradually destroying their intelligence, their fulfillment. Most of you who are religiously inclined, and who talk about God and immortality, do not fundamentally believe in individual fulfillment, for in the very structure of religious thought, through fear, you allow compulsion and imposition. Either there must be individual fulfillment, or the complete mechanization of man. There cannot be compromise between the two. You cannot say that man must fit into a pattern, must comply, follow, obey, have authority, and at the same time think that he is a spiritual entity. Once you begin to understand the deep significance of human life, then there will be true education. But to understand this, mind must free itself from authority and tradition by discerning their true significance. The superficial questions concerning this will be answered when you delve profoundly into all the subtleties of authority. there must inevitably be the subtle and gross form of compulsion when the mind is seeking security, safety. So a mind that would liberate itself from compulsion must not seek the limitation of security, certainty. To understand the deep significance of authority and compulsion. you need very delicate and careful thought. Question: You deny authority, but are you not creating authority too, by all you have to say or teach to the world, even if you insist that people must not recognize any authority? How can you prevent people from following you as their authority? Can you help it? Krishnamurti: If a man desires to obey and to follow someone, no one can prevent him; but it is most unintelligent, leading to great unhappiness and frustration. If those of you who are listening to me really begin to think deeply about authority, you will not follow anyone, including myself. But as I said, it is much easier to follow and to imitate than to really free thought from the limitation of fear and so from compulsion and authority. The one is an easy giving over of oneself to another, in which there is always the idea of getting something in return, whereas in the other there is absolute insecurity; and as people prefer the illusion of comfort, security, they follow authority with its frustration. But if the mind discerns the illusory nature of comfort or security, there is born intelligence, the new, the vital life. Question: A person who is religiously minded but who has the power to think deeply may lose his religious faith after listening to you. but if his fear remains, what advantage will that be for him? Krishnamurti: What creates faith in man? Fundamentally, fear. You say, "If I get rid of faith, then I shall be left with fear, and so have gained nothing." So you prefer to live in an illusion, clinging to its phantasies. in order to escape from fear, you create faith. Now when through deep thinking you dissolve faith, then you are face to face with fear. Then only can you resolve the cause of fear. When all the avenues of escape have been thoroughly understood and destroyed, then you are face to face with the root of fear: only then can the mind liberate itself from the clutch of fear. When there is fear, then religions and authorities, which you have created in your search for security, offer you the opiate which you call faith, or the love of God. Thus you merely cover up fear, which expresses itself in hidden and subtle ways. So you continue rejecting old faiths and accepting new ones; but the real poison, the root of fear, is never dissolved. As long as there is that limited consciousness, the "I", there must be fear. Until the mind liberates itself from this limited consciousness, fear must remain in one form or another. Question: Do you think it is possible to solve social problems by transforming the state into an all-powerful machine in every field of human endeavour, having one man rule supreme over the state and the nation? In other words, has Fascism any useful feature in it? Or is it rather to be fought against, as war must be, as an enemy of man's highest welfare? Krishnamurti: If in any organization there exist class or hierarchical distinctions based on acquisitiveness, then such an organization will be an impediment to man. How can there be the well-being of man if your attitude towards life is nationalistic, class-conscious or acquisitive? Because of this, people are divided into nations ruled by sovereign governments which create wars. As possessiveness and nationalism divide, so religions with their beliefs and dogmas separate people. So long as these exist, there must be divisions, wars. disputes and conflicts. To understand any of these problems. we must think anew, which demands great suffering; and as very few are willing to go through that, we accept political parties, with their jargon, and think that thereby we are dissolving the fundamental problems. July 6, 1935 BUENOS AIRES 1ST PUBLIC TALK 12TH JULY, 1935 Friends, Most of us are aware of the many forms of conflict, of sorrow and of exploitation that exist about us. We see men exploiting their fellow men, men exploiting women and women exploiting men; we see the division of classes, nationalities, wars and other great cruelties. Each one must have asked himself what shall be his individual action in all this chaotic and stupid condition. One is either entirely unconscious of all this or, being conscious, must often have had the thought not to add or submit to the impositions and cruelties in the world. In the hope of finding a way out of this suffering, most of you come to listen to these talks. You will be disappointed if you are merely seeking a new system of action or a new method to overcome suffering. I am not going to give a new system or a pattern after which to mould yourselves, for that would in no way solve the many difficulties and sorrows. The mere adjustment to a plan, without deep thought and understanding, will only lead to greater confusion and emptiness. But if you are able to discern for yourselves how to act truly, then your own intelligence will always guide you under all circumstances. If you look to an expert, you become merely one of the many cogs in the machinery of his system of thought. Besides. among the experts and specialists themselves there is much contradiction and dissension. Each expert or specialist forms a party around his system of thought, and then these parties become the cause of further confusion and exploitation. Now, as I said. I am not offering a new mould into which you can fit yourself; but if you are able to discover and understand profoundly the cause of suffering, then you will find for yourself the true method of action which cannot be systematized. For life is in continual movement, and a mind that is incapable of adjustment must inevitably suffer. To understand and to discern the deep significance of life, you must come to it with a pliable and an eager mind. The mind must be critical and aware. The opposition of cultivated prejudices and of the traditional background of defensive reactions becomes a great impediment to clear understanding. That is, if you are Christians, you have been brought up in a certain tradition, with prejudices, hopes and ideals, and through that background, through those prejudices, you look at life with its ever changing expressions. Often this is thought to be the critical understanding of life, but it is only the creation of further defensive opposition. If I may suggest it, during this evening try to put away your prejudices, try to forget that you are a Christian, a Communist, a Socialist, an Anarchist, or a Capitalist; and examine what I am going to say. Do not merely dismiss what I say as being communistic, anarchistic, or as nothing new. To understand life, with which, after all, we are concerned, we must not confuse theory with actuality; theories and ideals are merely expressions of hopes, longings, which offer an escape from actuality. If we can face actuality and discern its true value, then we shall find out what is of lasting significance and what is utterly vain and destructive. So I am not going to discuss any theory. Theories are utterly useless. If we can discern the significance of actuality, through questioning, we shall begin to awaken that intelligence which shall be a constant, active and directing principle in life. Now we have certain established values, religious and economic, according to which we are guiding our life. We have to inquire whether these values are crippling, perverting our thought and action. in deeply understanding what we have created about us, which has become our prison, we shall not fall into another set of false values and illusions. This does not mean that you must accept my values, or accept my interpretation, or belong to any particular group that you may think I represent. I do not belong to any society, to any religion, or to any organization or party. Man is almost suffocated in the prison of false values, of which he is unconscious. Through deep questioning and suffering he becomes aware of that which he has built about himself, and not through mere acceptance of what another says; if he merely accepted, he would fall into another prison, into another cage. If you individually and intelligently inquired into the system to which each one has contributed, then, through the understanding born of suffering, you would know for yourself the true manner of action. What are these values, seasoned in tradition and illusion, based on? If you discern deeply, you will see that these values and ideals are based on fear, which is the outcome of individual search for security. in search of this security, we have divided life as material and spiritual, economic and religious. Now such an artificial division is entirely false, for life is an integrated whole. We have created this artificial distinction; and in understanding the cause of this separation between the spiritual and material, we shall know the integrated action of life as a whole. So let us first understand this structure which we call religion. There is in each one of you, in one form or another, a desire for continuance, a search for spiritual security which you call immortality. He who offers or promises this security, this egotistic continuance, this selfish immortality, becomes your authority, to be worshipped. to be prayed to, to be followed. Thus you slowly give yourself over to that authority, and so fear is cunningly and subtly cultivated. To lead you to that promised immortality, a system, called religion, becomes a vital necessity. To maintain this artificial structure, beliefs, ideals, dogmas and creeds are required. And to interpret, to administer and to uphold this self-created prison of man, you must have priests. Thus priests throughout the world become exploiters. in search of your individual security, which you call immortality you begin to create many illusions and ideals, which become the means of gross or subtle exploitation. To assure you and to interpret the craving for your own security in the hereafter and in the present, there must be mediators, messengers, who, through your fear, become your exploiters. So it is you yourselves who are fundamentally the creators of exploiters, whether economic or spiritual. To understand this religious structure which has become a means of exploiting man throughout the world, you must understand your own desire and the ways of its subtle and cunning action. Religion, which is an organized form of stupidity, has become your destroyer. it has become an instrument of power, of vested interest, of exploitation. You as individuals must awaken to this structure or opposition to intelligence, which is the result of your own fears, desires, cravings and secret pursuits. Religion, to most people, is nothing but a reaction against intelligence. You may not be religious, you may not believe in immortality, but you have secret desires prompting you to exploit, to be cruel, to dominate, which must inevitably create conditions forcing and stimulating man to seek comfort, security, in an illusion. Whether you are inclined to be religious or not, fear permeates human beings and their actions, and must create illusion of some kind: the religious illusion, or the illusion of power, or the intellectual conceit of ideals. Throughout the world man is in search of this immortal security. Fear makes him seek comfort in an organized belief, which is called religion, with its creeds and dogmas, with its pageantry and superstition. These organized beliefs, religions, fundamentally separate man. And if you examine their ideals, their moralities, you will see that they are based on fear and egotism. From organized belief there follows vested interest, which subtly becomes the cruel authority for exploiting man through his fear. So you see how man through his own fear, through self-created authority, through closed and egotistic morality, has allowed himself to be slavishly bound; he has lost the capacity to think and so to live creatively, happily. His action, born out of this suffocation and limitation, must ever be incomplete, ever destructive of intelligence. The individual, through search for his own security, has created through many centuries a system based on acquisitiveness, fear and exploitation. To this system of his own making he has become an utter slave. The selfish conditioning of family, and its own security, has created an environment which forces the individual to become ruthless. Into the hands of the most cunning and the ruthless, the few, has come the machine, which affords the means of exploitation. Out of all this there is born the absurd division of classes, nationalities and wars. Every sovereign government, with its particular nationality, must inevitably create war, for its acts are based on vested interest. Thus you have on the one side religion, and on the other material conditions, which are continually twisting, perverting man's thought and action. Almost all people are unconscious both of the intelligence and of the stupidity about them. But how can each one realize what is stupidity and what is intelligence, if his thought and action are based on fear and authority? So individually we have to become aware, conscious of these limiting conditions. Most of us are waiting for some miracle to take place which will bring order out of this chaos and suffering. Every one of us will have to become individually conscious, aware, in order to discover what is limiting and stupid. Out of this deep discernment there is born intelligence; but it is impossible to understand what this intelligence is if the mind is limited and stupid. To try intellectually to grasp the meaning of intelligence is utterly vain and arid. in discovering for ourselves and being free from the many stupidities and limitations, each one will realize a life of love and understanding. Through fear we have created certain hindrances which are continually impeding the full movement of life. Take the stupidity of nationalism, with all its absurdities, cruelties and exploitations. What, as individuals, is your attitude, your action towards it? Do not say that it is not important, that you are not concerned with it, that you don't touch politics; if you examine it fundamentally, you will see that you are part of this machine of exploitation. You as an individual will have to become conscious of this stupidity and limitation. Equally you have to become aware of the stupidity and limitation of authority in religion. When you once become conscious of it, then you will see the deep significance of the hold it has on you. How can you think clearly, feel fully, completely, when unquestioned authoritative values cripple the mind and the heart? So we have many stupidities and limitations which are slowly destroying intelligence. such as ideals, beliefs, dogmas, nationalism and the possessive idea of family; and of these we are almost unconscious. And yet each one is trying to live fully, happily, trying to find out intelligently what is God, what is truth. But how can a limited mind, how can a mind that is enclosed by innumerable barriers, understand what is supremely intelligent, beautiful? To understand the supreme, mind must be free of the impediments and illusions created through fear and acquisitiveness. How are you to become conscious, aware of these shelters and illusions? Only through conflict, through suffering; not by discussing intellectually, for that is dealing with this question but partially. Let me explain what I mean by conflict. Suppose you begin to realize that organized belief, religion, is fundamentally separating man from man, preventing him from living fully, deeply, and by not yielding to its demands and stupidities, you begin to create vital conflict. Then you will find that your family, your friends and public opinion are against you, which will create great suffering in you. it is only when you suffer and do not try to escape from suffering, when you see that explanations are futile, when all escapes have been stopped, it is only then that you will begin to discern truly, fundamentally, deeply in your mind and heart what are the limitations that prevent the free flow of reality, of life. If you merely accept what I say and repeat after me that nationalism, beliefs, authorities are hindrances, then you will create only another authority and take transient and illusory shelter under it. If you as individuals truly understand this whole structure of fear and exploitation, then only can there be fulfillment, an everbecoming of life, immortality. But this demands intelligence, not knowledge; a deep understanding born of action, not of acceptance, not of following a particular person or pattern, nor of trying to adjust yourself to a system or to an authority. If you would understand the beauty of life, with its deep movement and its happiness, then the mind and heart must become aware of those values and impediments that are preventing fulfillment in action. it is limitation, egotism, that prevents discernment, that causes suffering, and so there is no fulfillment. July 12, 1935 BUENOS AIRES 2ND PUBLIC TALK 15TH JULY, 1935 Friends, Many questions have been handed in, and before I answer some of them I should like to give a brief introductory talk. I do not think that any human problem can be solved isolatedly, by itself. Each one of us has many problems, many difficulties, and we try to deal with them exclusively, not as a part of an integral whole. If we have a political problem, we try to solve it apart, let us say, from religion. Or if there is an individual religious problem, we try to solve it apart from the social problem, and so on. That is, there are individual and at the same time collective problems, which we try to deal with separately. Because we do this, we only create further confusion and further misery. By merely solving one problem isolatedly, we create others, and so the mind becomes entangled in a net of unsolved problems. Now let us understand the problem which must be in the minds of most people: that of individual fulfillment and collective work. If collective work becomes compulsory, as it is becoming, and each individual is forcibly pulled into it, then individual fulfillment disappears and each one becomes merely a slave to a collective idea or a collective system of authority. So the point is, how can we bring about collective work and at the same time realize individual fulfillment? Otherwise, as I said, we become mere machines, cogs that automatically function. If we can understand the deep significance of individual fulfillment, then collective work will not be a destructive force or an impediment to intelligence. Each one must discover intelligence for himself, whose expression will then be true fulfillment. If he does not, if he merely follows a plan laid down, then it will not be a fulfillment, but only a conformity through fear. If I laid down a plan or gave you a system whereby you could, by imitating, arrive at fulfillment, it would not be a fulfillment at all; it would be merely an adjustment to a particular pattern. Please see this point very clearly, for otherwise you will think I am but destroying. If you merely imitate, there cannot be fulfillment. The constant conformity to a particular mould is the basis of our religious thought and moral action; and living is no longer a complete and deep fulfillment, an integrated understanding of life, but merely conformity to a certain system, through fear and compulsion. This is the very beginning of authority. To fulfil, there must be the greatest intelligence. This intelligence is different from knowledge. You may read many books, but it will not give you intelligence. Intelligence can be awakened only through action, through the understanding of action as an integrated whole. To discuss and intellectually discover what is intelligence would be, I feel, a waste of time and energy, for that would not lift the burden of ignorance and illusion. Instead of inquiring what is intelligence, let us discover for ourselves what are the hindrances placed upon the mind which prevent the full awakening of intelligence. If I were to give an explanation of what is intelligence, and you agreed with my explanation, your mind would make of it a well-defined system, and through fear would twist itself to fit into that system. But if each one can discover for himself the many impediments placed on the mind, then, through awareness, not through self-analysis, the mind will begin to liberate itself, thus awakening true intelligence which is life itself. Now one of the greatest impediments placed on the mind is authority. Please understand the whole significance of that word, and don't jump to the opposite conclusion. Please don't say, "Must we be free of law; can we do what we like; bow can we be free of morality. authority?" Authority is very subtle; its ways are many; its permeating influence is so delicate, so cunning, that it needs great discernment, not hasty and thoughtless conclusions, to realize its significance. When there is deep understanding there is no division of authority as the outer and the inner, as applicable to the mass or to the few, as the externally imposed or the inwardly cultivated. But unfortunately there exists this division of external and inward authority. The external is the imposition of standards, traditions, ideals, which merely act as an enclosure to restrain the individual, treating him as an animal to be trained according to certain demands and conditions. You see this happening all the time in the closed morality of religions, in the standards of systems and parties. As a reaction against this imposition of authority we develop an inner guide, a system, a discipline according to which we try to act, and thus force experience to fit itself into this groove of protected desires and hopes. Where there is authority and a mere adjustment to it, there cannot be fulfillment. Each individual has created this authority, through fear and the desire for security. You have to understand your own desire, which is creating authority and to which you are a slave; you cannot merely disregard it. When the mind discerns the deep significance of authority, and frees itself from fear with its subtle influences, then there is the dawning of intelligence, which is true fulfillment. Where there is intelligence there is true cooperation, and not compulsion; but where there is no intelligence, collective work becomes mere slavery. True collective work is the natural outcome of fulfillment, which is intelligence. in awakening intelligence, each one helps to create the opportunity, the environment for others also to fulfil. Question: It is being said in some newspapers and elsewhere that you have led a gay and useless life: that you have no real message, but are merely repeating the gibberish of the Theosophists who educated you; that you are attacking all religions except your own; that you are destroying without building anything new: that your purpose is to create doubt, disturbance and confusion in the minds of the people. What have you to say to all this? Krishnamurti: I think I had better answer this question point by point. (Shouts from the audience: "It is an infamy! The question is libellous!") Sirs, just a minute. Please don't feel that I am insulted, and that you have to defend me. (Applause) Someone has said that I have led a gay and useless life. I am afraid he cannot judge. To judge another is entirely false, for to judge means that your mind is a slave to a particular standard. As a matter of fact, I have not led a so-called gay life, fortunately or unfortunately; but that doesn't make me an object of worship. I say that the tendency in people to worship another, no matter who it is, is destructive of intelligence; but to understand and love another cannot be included in worship which is born of subtle fear. Only a limited mind will judge another, and such a mind cannot understand the living quality of life. It is said that I have no real message, but am merely repeating "the gibberish of the Theosophists who educated me". As a matter of fact, I do not belong to the Theosophical Society, or to any other society. To belong to any religious organization is detrimental to intelligence. (Objections from the audience) Sirs, that is my opinion. You need not agree with it. But you have to find out whether or not what I say is true, and not merely object. it happens that when I talk in India, they tell me that I am teaching Hinduism, and when I talk in the Buddhist countries, they tell me that what I say is Buddhism, and the Theosophists and others say that I am explaining anew their own special doctrines. What matters is that you who are listening understand the significance of what I am saying, and not whether someone thinks that I am repeating; the gibberish of a particular society. Out of your own suffering. through your own understanding of action, comes true intelligence, which is true fulfillment. So what is of great importance is not whether I belong to any society or am merely rehashing old ideas, but that you deeply understand the significance of the ideas which I have put forward, thus completing them in action. Then you will discover for yourself whether what I am saying is true or false, whether it has any essential value in life. Unfortunately, we are very apt to believe anything that appears in print. If you can really think through one idea completely, then you will find the real beauty of action, of life. It is said that I am attacking all religions except my own. I do not belong to any religion. For me, all religions are but defensive reactions against life, against intelligence. The questioner suggests that my purpose is to create doubt, disturbance and confusion in the minds of the people. Now, you must have the purifying balm of doubt in order to understand; otherwise you merely become slaves of vested interest, whether it be of organized religion or of money and social tradition. If you begin to question truly the values which now enclose and hold you, though it may cause confusion and disturbance, if you persist in deeply understanding them in action, there will be clarity and happiness. But clarity or comprehension does not come about superficially, artificially; there must be deep questioning. Doubt is the awakener of intelligence, born of suffering. But the man whose mind is held in the vice of vested interest, of power and exploitation, declares doubt to be pernicious, a fetter which causes confusion and brings about destruction. If you would truly awaken intelligence, you must begin to understand the significance of values through doubt and suffering. If you would realize the movement of life, of reality, mind must be denuded of all self-defensive values. Question: It is clear to me that you are determined to destroy all our cherished ideals. If these are destroyed, will not civilization collapse and man return to savagery? Krishnamurti: First of all, I cannot destroy your ideals which you have created. If I could destroy them, you would create others in their place and so be prisoners to these. What we have to find out is, not whether by destruction of ideals there is going to be savagery, but whether ideals really help man to live completely, intelligently. Is there not savagery, chaos, misery, exploitation, war, in spite of your ideals, religions and closed morality? So let us find out whether ideals are a help or a hindrance. To understand this, your mind must not be prejudiced or on the defensive. When we talk about ideals, we mean those points of light by which we seek to guide ourselves across the confusion and mystery of life. That is what we mean by ideals: those future conceptions which will help man to direct himself across the chaos of present existence. The subtle desire for ideals and their permanence indicates that you want to cross the ocean of life without suffering. As you do not fully comprehend the present, you desire to have guides in the form of ideals. So you say, "As life is such a conflict, as there is so much misery and suffering in it, ideals will give me encouragement, hope." Thus ideals become an escape from the present. Your mind and heart are crippled and burdened by them, giving you a subtle means of escape from the ever living present, thus covering up and dodging the conflict and the suffering of the now. So gradually you come to live in theories and cannot understand the actuality. Let me take an example which I hope will make my meaning clear. As Christians you profess to love your neighbours: that is the ideal. Now what is happening in actuality? Love doesn't exist, but we have fear, domination, cruelty, and all the horrors and absurdities of nationalism and war. In theory it is one thing, and in fact it is quite the opposite. But if you put aside for the moment your ideals and really confront the actual; if instead of living in a romantic future you face without illusion that which is ever taking place, giving your whole mind and heart to it, then you will act and know the movement of reality. Now, you are confusing actuality with theories. You have to separate the actual from the theoretical, from hopes and longings. When you are confronted with the actual, there is action; but if you escape into ideals, into the security of illusion, then you will not act. The greater the ideal, the greater is its power to hold man in an illusion, in a prison. it is only in understanding life, with all its suffering, joy and deep movement that the mind can free itself from illusions and ideals. When the mind is crippled with hopes and longings which become ideals, it cannot understand the present. But when the mind begins to free itself from these future hopes and illusions, then action will awaken that intelligence which is life itself, the everbecoming. Question: I am deeply interested in your ideas, but I am opposed by my family and the priest. What should be my attitude towards them? Krishnamurti: If you desire to understand truth, life, then family as an influence, as a shelter, doesn't exist; and the priest, as an imposition with subtle exploitation, ceases to be a determining factor in life. So it is you yourself who have to answer this question. If you would understand the beauty of life and live deeply and ecstatically, without this continual creation of limitation, then you must be free from organized beliefs, as in religion with its exploitation, and from the possessiveness of family with its cunning and self-defensive shelters - which does not mean throwing away all things and becoming a licentious person. If you desire to understand profoundly and live intelligently with fulfillment, then family, priest or public opinion cannot stand in the way. What is public opinion, what are priests, what is family, when you really come to consider it? To discern, has not each one to stand alone, without support? This in no way means that you cannot love, that you cannot marry and have children. Because of your own desire for security and comfort you begin to create an environment which influences, limits and dominates your mind and heart through fear. A man who would understand truth must be free from the desire for security and comfort. Question: Some say you are the Christ, others that you are the Antichrist. What, in fact, are you? Krishnamurti: I don't think it matters very much what I am. What matters is whether you intelligently understand what I say. If you have a deep appreciation of beauty, it is of little importance to know who painted the picture or wrote the poem. (Applause and objections) Sirs, I am not evading the question, because I don't think it matters in the least who I am. For if I began to assert or deny, I should become an authority. But if you, through your own discern- ment, understand and live what is true and vital in that which I am saying, then there will be fulfillment. This, after all, is of the greatest importance: that you shall live fully, completely -not what I am. Question: Is there any difference between true religious feeling and religion as organized belief? Krishnamurti: Before I answer this question we must understand what we mean by organized belief. A structure of creeds, dogmas and beliefs based on authority, with its pageantry, sensation and exploitation - this I call organized religion, with its many vested interests And there are those personal feelings and reactions which one calls religious experiences. You may not belong to an organized religion with all its subtle influences of authority, imposition and fear, but you may have personal experiences which you call religious feeling. I need not again explain how organized belief, that is, religion, fundamentally cripples thought and love, for I have already gone into that fairly thoroughly. Those experiences which we call religious may be the outcome of an illusion; so we have to understand how they come into being. If there is conflict, suffering, the mind naturally seeks comfort. in search of comfort away from suffering, the mind creates illusions from which it derives certain experiences and feelings which it calls religious, or by some other term. In understanding and freeing itself from the cause of suffering, the mind shall realize, not an objective experience which acts on a limited and subjective mind, but that movement of life itself, of reality, from which it is not separate. As most people suffer, and as most people have religious experiences of some kind, these experiences are merely an escape from the cause of suffering into an illusion which assumes, through constant contact and habit, a reality, You have to find out for yourself whether what you call your religious experience is an escape from suffering, or whether it is the freedom from the cause of suffering, and hence the movement of reality. If you seek religious experience, then it must be false, because you are merely craving to escape from life and actuality; but when the mind frees itself from fear and its many limitations, then there is the flow of the ecstasy of life. Question: How can I be free of fear? Krishnamurti: I think the questioner wants to know how to free himself from the deep and significant cause of fear. To be truly free of fear, you must lose all sense of egotism; and that is a very difficult thing to do. Egotism is so subtle, it expresses itself in so many ways, that we are almost unconscious of it. it expresses itself through the search for security, whether in this world or in some other world which is called the hereafter. it craves to be secure, now and in the future, and thus hinders intelligence and fulfillment. As long as this desire for security exists, there must be fear. A mind that seeks immortality, the continuance of its own limited consciousness, must create fear, ignorance and illusion. If the mind can free itself from the desire for security, then fear ceases; and to discover if the mind is pursuing security, it must become aware, fully conscious. July 15, 1935 BUENOS AIRES 3RD PUBLIC TALK 19TH JULY, 1935 Friends, If our actions are merely the outcome of some superficial reactions, then they must lead to confusion, misery, and to selfish individual expressions. If we can understand the fundamental cause of our action and free it from its limitations, then action will inevitably bring about intelligence and co-operation in the world. Much of our action is born of compulsion, influence, domination or fear, but there is an action which is the outcome of voluntary understanding. Each one of us is faced with the question: Are we capable of this voluntary action of intelligence, or must we be forced, directed and controlled? To fulfil, to understand life completely, there must be voluntary action. Action born out of some superficial reaction inevitably makes the mind shallow and limited. Take jealousy. By dealing superficially with it we hope to end it, be free of it. We try to control, sublimate or forget it. This action is only dealing with a superficial symptom, without understanding the fundamental cause from which the reaction of jealousy is born. The cause is possessiveness. Action born of a reaction, of a symptom, without understanding the cause, must lead to greater conflict and suffering. When the mind is free from the cause, which is possessiveness, then the symptom, which is jealousy, disappears. it is utterly futile to deal with a symptom, with a reaction. Again, we have to discover and understand for ourselves how we act towards the established system of exploitation; whether we are merely dealing with it superficially, and so increasing its problems; or whether our action is born out of freedom from acquisitiveness which causes exploitation. If we deeply consider the cause of exploitation, we shall discern it to be the outcome of acquisitiveness; and though we may sometimes solve superficial problems, until we are truly free of the cause other problems and conflicts will continually arise. To take an example. We go from one puzzling sect to another, large or small, with their dogmas, creeds, and with their organized authority and exploitation. We go from one teacher to another; from one cage of organized belief we fall into another. The fundamental cause of the existence of organized belief, which controls and dominates man, is fear; and until he is really free from it, his action must be limited, thus creating further suffering. Each one of us is confronted with this problem: Are we to act superficially through reaction, or, through understanding the cause of exploitation, awaken intelligence? If we merely act through superficial reactions, we shall inevitably create greater divisions. conflicts and miseries; but if we truly understand the fundamental cause of all this chaos and act from that comprehension, then there will be true intelligence which alone can create the right environment for each individual to fulfil. Question: If you have renounced possessions, money, properties, as you say you have, what do you think of the Commission that organized your tour and is selling your books in the very theatre where you give your lectures? Are you not also exploiting and exploited? Krishnamurti: Neither the Commission nor I make any money out of these sales. The expense of hiring this theatre is borne by some friends. Whatever money is received from the sale of these books is used to print further books and pamphlets. As some of us think that these ideas will be of great help to man, we desire to spread them, and to me this desire is not exploitation. You needn't buy the books, nor need you come to these talks. (Applause) You are not going to miss a spiritual opportunity by not coming here. Exploitation exists where a person, or some unquestioned value or idea, dominates and urges you, subtly or grossly, towards a particular action. What we are trying to do is to help you to awaken your own intelligence so that you will discern for yourself the fundamental cause which creates suffering. If you do not discern for yourself and free yourself from all those limitations that crush your mind and heart, there cannot be true happiness or intelligence. Question: To give up all authority, discipline, creed and dogma, may be right for the educated man, but would it not be pernicious for the uneducated? Krishnamurti: Who is the uneducated and who is the educated is very difficult to determine. But what we can do is to find out for ourselves, individually, whether authority, with all its significance, is really beneficial. Please understand the deep significance of authority. One creates one's own authority when there is the desire to protect oneself or take shelter in a hope or in an ideal or in a certain set of values. This authority, this self-defensive system of thought, prevents one from living completely, from fulfilling. Out of the desire to be secure arise disciplines, beliefs, ideals and dogmas. If you who are supposed to be educated are truly free from authority, with all its significance, then you will naturally create the right environment for those who are still held down by authority, by tradition, by fear. So the question is, not what will happen to the unfortunate man who is not educated, but whether you, as individuals, have understood the deep significance of authority, discipline, belief and creed, and are truly free from all these. To consider what will happen to the uneducated man if he is not controlled is fundamentally a false way of seeking to help him. This attitude is the very spirit of exploitation. If you gave the opportunity for the so-called uneducated man to awaken his own intelligence and not be dominated by you or forced to follow your particular system or pattern of thought, then there would be fulfillment for all. Question: Do you think that the exploited and unemployed should organize themselves and destroy capitalism? Krishnamurti: If you think that the capitalistic system is crushing and destroying individual intelligence and fulfillment, then you as individuals must free yourselves from it by truly understanding the causes which created it. it is, as I said, based on acquisitiveness, on individual security, both religious and economic. Now if you as individuals fully discern this and are free from it, then a true organization of intelligent co-operation will naturally come into existence. But if you merely create an organization without discernment, then you will become slaves to it. If each individual really tries to free himself from egotistic desires, ambitions and success, then, whatever may be the expressions of that intelligence, they will not dominate and oppress man. Question: What do you mean by morality and love? Krishnamurti: Let us examine the present-day morality in order to find out what should be the true morality. What is our whole system of morality, both the religious and the economic, based on? It is based on individual security, the search for one's own safety. The present-day morality is based on utter selfishness. There are happily few who are outside this closed morality. To find out what is true morality, we must individually begin to free ourselves, through comprehension, from this closed morality, which means that you must begin to doubt, to question the values of the present-day morality. You must discover according to what moral standards you are acting; whether your action is the result of compulsion, of tradition, or of your own desire to be safe, secure. Now if you are merely conforming to a morality of individual security, then there cannot be intelligence, nor can there be true human happiness. As individuals you must come intelligently into conflict with this selfish system of morality, because it is only through intelligent conflict, through suffering, that you discern the true significance of these moral standards. You cannot discover merely intellectually their true worth. Now most of us are afraid to question, to doubt, because such questioning will bring about definite action, demanding definite alteration in our daily life. So we prefer to discuss merely intellectually what is true morality. The questioner also wants to know what is love. To understand what true love is, we must understand our present attitude, thought and action towards love. If you truly thought about it you would see that our love is based on possessiveness, and our laws and ethics are founded on this desire to hold and to control. How can there be deep love when there is this desire to possess, to hold? When the mind is free from possessiveness, then there is that loveliness, the bliss of love, Question: Should we give in to those who are against us, or avoid them? Krishnamurti: Neither. If you merely give in, surely in that there is no comprehension; and if you merely avoid them, in that there is fear. If your action is based, not on a reaction, but on the full understanding of fundamental causes, then there is no question of giving in or of running away. Then you are acting intelligently, truly. Question: You are giving us chaotic theories and inciting us to useless revolt. I should like to have your answer to this statement. Krishnamurti: I am not giving you any theories or inciting you to revolt. If I am capable of urging you towards rebellion, and if you yield to it, then another will come and put you to sleep again. (Laughter) So the important thing is to find out whether you are suffering. Now, a man who is suffering doesn't need to be urged towards rebellion; but he must keep awake to understand the cause of suffering, and not be put to sleep by explanations and ideals. If you consider very carefully you will see that, when there is suffering, there is a desire to be comforted, to be put to sleep. When you suffer, your immediate reaction is to seek comfort; and those who give you comfort, consolation, become for you an authority whom you blindly follow. Through that authority your suffering is explained away. The function of real suffering, which is to awaken intelligence, is denied through the search for comfort. Now you have to ask yourself whether you as an individual are satisfied with the religious, social and economic conditions as they are, and if not, what your action is towards them. Not as a group or a mass, but as individuals. When you ask yourself this question, you must inevitably come into conflict with all those religious authorities and dogmas, with all those moralities based on selfish desires, and with that system which exploits the individual for the few. I am not inciting you to rebellion, or giving you new theories. I say that you can live with plenitude and intelligence when the mind frees itself from the stupidities of selfish, limited desires. When you begin to discover the true significance of the values that you have built about yourself, when the mind and heart free themselves from fear which has created doctrines, beliefs, ideals, which are continually impeding you, then there is fulfilment. the flow of reality. Question: Is it natural that men should kill each other in war? Krishnamurti: To discover whether it is natural or not, you must find out whether war is essential, whether war is the most intelligent way of solving political or economic problems. You must question the whole system that leads up to war. Now, as I said, nationalism is a disease. Nationalism is used as a means of exploiting the mass. it is the outcome of vested interest. please think this over and act individually. Nationalism, with its separative, sovereign governments which do not consider humanity as a whole, and which are based on class distinctions and vested interests - do you think that this nationalism is natural, human, intelligent? Is it not the outcome of exploitation and the instrument for inciting people to fight in order that a few may benefit? Also, we have built up a psychological necessity for wars. which is the grossest form of stupidity. As long as we are capable of being incited through patriotism, we shall inevitably yield to a false reaction; and from that arise innumerable problems. If you deeply question the whole idea of nationalism and acquisitiveness, you will never ask whether war is natural. There are some who are against what I am saying because they think that their vested interest is being disturbed; and others are delighted when I speak against nationalism, only because they have vested interests in other countries. To live intelligently, without the distinctions of nationalities, classes, without the divisions that religions create between man and man, you as individuals must free yourselves from acquisitiveness. This demands great awareness, interest and action on your part. As long as the individual is not free from the search for self-security there will be suffering, wars and confusion. Question: You promise us a new paradise on earth, but it is unreachable. Do you not think that we need immediate solutions, and not some far-off hopes? Would not universal Communism be the immediate solution? Krishnamurti: I am not promising you a future paradise on earth, but I am telling you that you can make of this world a paradise by your own intelligent awakening and action, by your own questioning of those things about you that are false. No system is ever going to save man, but only his own voluntary intelligence. If you merely accept a system, you become a slave to it; but if, out of your own suffering, out of your own questioning of those values and traditions, you begin to awaken true intelligence, then you will create that which cannot exploit man. Sirs, what is preventing each one of us from living intelligently, humanly, sacredly? Each one of us is seeking immortality, security in another world; so religions become a necessity, with all their exploitations, dominations and fears. And, here in this world, we are seeking security of a different kind, so we have built a ruthless, competitive system of wars, class distinctions, and all the rest of it. You as individuals have created this agony of distinction and suffering, and you as individuals will have to alter it. But if you merely look to a group to alter the present conditions, then you will not realize that ecstasy of deep fulfilment. So what will bring about in the world a happy, intelligent condition is your own awakening, your intense questioning of values, from which alone comes action. When you as individuals, through action, begin to understand the true significance of life, then there will be paradise on earth. Question: Do you believe in the immortality of the soul? Krishnamurti: The idea of the soul is based on authority and hope. Please, before I go further into this, don't be on the defensive. We are trying to find out what is true, not what is traditional, not what you believe; so we must first inquire if there is such a thing as the soul. To discern, you must come without prejudice, either for or against it. We have created through our desire for immortality, the idea of the soul. As we think that we cannot understand this world, with all its agonies, miseries and exploitations, we want to live in another world more fully, more completely. We think that there must be some other entity which is more spiritual than this. The idea of the soul is based fundamentally on egotistic continuance. Now reality or truth or God, or whatever name you like to give to it, is not egotistic, personal consciousness. When you seek security, continuance, you think of the soul as different from reality. Having created this separation you ask, "is it immortal?" When the mind is free from its limited consciousness, with its desire for continuance, then there is immortality, not of personal, individual continuance, but of life. Illusion can divide itself into many, but truth cannot. As the mind creates illusion, it divides itself into the permanent, which it calls the soul, and the impermanent, the transient existence. This division merely creates further illusion. When the mind is free from all limitation, there is immortality. But you have to discern what are the limitations that prevent the mind from living completely. The very desire for continuance is the greatest of limitations. This desire is the outcome of memory which acts as a guide, as a warning of self-protection against life, experience. Out of this is born the force that makes you imitate, conform, submit yourself to authority, and so there is constant fear. All this goes to make up the idea of the `I' which craves for continuance. When the mind is free from this egotism, which expresses itself in many ways, then there is reality, or call it what you will. When there is that sense of Godhood, you do not belong to any religion, to any set of people, to any family. it is only when you have lost that sense of Godhood that you become religious, and submit yourself to all the absurdities and cruelties, to exploitation and suffering. As long as mind is not vulnerable to the movement, to the swift current of life. there cannot be reality. Mind must be utterly naked, unprotected, to follow the wanderings of truth. July 19, 1935 BUENOS AIRES 4TH PUBLIC TALK 22ND JULY, 1935 Friends, I have not come to Argentina to convert you to any particular creed or to urge you to join any particular society: but in understanding, through action, what I am going to say, you will realize that happiness which is born of intelligence, of fulfilment. If each one of you can live supremely, in deep fulfilment, then the world as a whole will be the richer, the happier; but the difficulty is to live profoundly. To live profoundly, you have to discover for yourself your own uniqueness, for in that alone is there fulfilment. It is only through our true fulfilment that we shall solve the innumerable social and economic problems. To rely on environment or on a religion to guide us is to create a dangerous hindrance to fulfilment. During this brief talk before answering the questions, I want to speak of individuality and true fulfilment, and see whether existing social, moral and religious conditions are a true help or a dangerous impediment. Before examining whether the conditions are dangerous or beneficial, we must understand what is individuality, what is the uniqueness of the individual, and in what manner he can fulfil. Now I am going to put very succinctly what to me is individuality. I am not going to use psychological phrases or a complicated jargon. I shall use ordinary words with their ordinary meaning. Individuality is the accumulated and conditioned memories of both the past and the present. That is, each individual is nothing but a series of conditioned memories, which impede complete and intelligent adjustment to the living, moving present. These memories give to each one the quality of separateness, and this is what you call the uniqueness of individuality. Now, what are these memories based on, what are the conditioning causes that limit consciousness? If you examine you will see that these memories spring from defensive reactions against life, against suffering, against pain. Having cultivated these self-protective reactions, and calling them by high and pleasant-sounding names such as morality, virtues, ideals, the mind lives within this enclosure of safety, within this limited consciousness of self-created security. These memories, through the impact of experience, increase in their strength and resistance and thus create division from the living reality, till there is utter incompleteness; this causes fear with its many illusions, the fear of death and of the hereafter. To put it differently, each one has the desire to be certain, secure, and with that desire approaches life, with that intention seeks experience. Thus one does not understand experience, life itself, completely. Whatever action is born of the desire for security must create incompleteness. Being incomplete, one is always guided by memories, which again further increase the emptiness, the isolation of our being. So this continued action of incompleteness prevents fulfilment, which is the full expression of life without the hindrance of conditioned memories, egotism. That is, when you approach life with all the memories; based on security and the desire for safety, then whatever action proceeds from that must create an emptiness, an incompleteness; so there is no fulfilment, no comprehension. The significance of individuality is that the mind, through itself alone, through its own conditioned separateness, through deep comprehension of its own self-created limitation, must dissolve the impediments and barriers which create limited consciousness. Please. you will have to think over this very deeply and not merely accept or reject it. The mind, being conditioned by memory based on security, by so-called virtues, self-protective moralities, is impeded in its fulfilment. Having understood this, we can find out whether society, morality, religion, help the individual to liberate himself and wholly fulfil. Either the existing society, with morality and religion, is fundamentally true and so help the individual to fulfil; or, if it is true, that we must completely revolutionize our thought and action. So the change depends on individual thought and action. You have to inquire whether your religions, moralities, are true. I say they are not; because society is based on acquisitiveness, moral values on self-protective security, and religion, which is organized belief, fundamentally on fear, though we try to cover this up by calling it love of God, love of truth. If there is to be true fulfilment, there cannot be this sense of possessiveness or acquisitiveness, nor these moral values based on defensive, egoistic security, nor these religions, with their promises of immortality which is but another form of selfishness and fear. So you, the individual, will have to awaken to the prison in which you are held; and by becoming conscious, aware, you will begin to discover what is stupidity and what is intelligence. It is through your own intelligence that there can be fulfilment, not through acceptance of authority. So what is of importance is the individual, for only through his own intelligence is there fulfilment, the ecstasy of life. This does not mean that I am preaching individualism. Quite the contrary; it is the individualistic system of religious faith and belief, of moral values and acquisitive conduct, that is hindering true fulfilment. So you who are listening, you have to understand, you have to break away from this prison through your own intelligent discernment; and this demands continual alertness of mind. There cannot be the following of another, nor can there be the acceptance of authority, for in this there is fear; and fear destroys all discernment. Question: I believe that I have no attachments whatsoever, and still I don't feel myself free. That is this painful feeling of being imprisoned, and what am I to do about it? Krishnamurti: One seeks detachment rather than the understanding of the cause of suffering. Now, when one suffers through possessiveness, one tries to develop the opposite, which is detachment. in other words, one becomes detached in order not to be hurt, and this opposite, one calls virtue. If one really discovered what is the cause of suffering, then in understanding it deeply, with one's whole being, the mind would be free to live fully and completely, and not fall into another prison, the prison of the opposite. Question: Are you also against such organizations as railways, etc? Krishnamurti: I have been referring to those organizations which we have created through self-protective fears. Now, most organizations in the world are based on exploitation, but I was referring especially to the organizations of religious belief throughout the world. I maintain that these religious, sectarian organizations are real impediments to man. Those of you who belong to religious organizations, please don't be on the defensive when I say this, but try to find out if it is so or not. If you discover it is not so, then it is right to have them. But before saying that religious organizations are necessary, you must really impartially examine them. How are you going to examine them. To examine anything objectively, your mind must be completely impersonal. That means you must doubt every belief, every ideal that you have held so far or that these organizations offer. Through that questioning there comes a distinct conflict; and only when there is conflict can you begin to understand the right significance of organized beliefs. If you merely examine them intellectually, you will never understand their true significance. That is why most religions forbid their followers to doubt. Doubt has become a religious fetter, an impediment. You have, through your own fear, developed certain beliefs, ideals, illusions to which you have become enslaved, and it is only through your own suffering that you will understand their true significance. Question: There are people who on the one hand exploit thousands of human beings. and on the other donate millions of dollars to religious institutions, Why? (Laughter) Krishnamurti: You laugh at this question, but you, also, are involved in it. We exploit, we amass wealth, and then we become philanthropists. Perhaps some of you have not the ruthless cleverness to amass wealth, but you do the same thing in another way, in pursuing virtue. So what is behind this false charity of the philanthropist, and this false eagerness to accumulate virtue? The philanthropist, through fear, through many defensive reactions, wants to repay a little to the victim whom he has exploited. (Laughter) And you honour him, you say how wonderful he is. That is not charity. It is merely egotism. And why do you pursue virtue and try to store it up? It is a defensive protection. It is a safeguard against suffering. Your virtue, if you really examine it, is based on the egotistic idea of warding off suffering. This self-protection is not virtue. By knowing what you are and not escaping from it, through so-called virtue, you will discover the beauty, the richness of life. The philanthropist, through his desire for security, entrenches himself in the power that possessions give; and the man who pursues virtue builds about himself walls of protection against the movement of life. The virtuous man and the philanthropist are alike. Both are afraid of life. They are not in love with life. Question: We are happy with our beliefs and traditions based on the doctrines of Jesus; whereas in your country, India, there are millions who are far from being happy. All that you are telling us, the Christ taught two thousand years ago. What is the use of your preaching to us instead of to your own countrymen? Krishnamurti: Thought does not belong to any nation or to any race. (Applause) Reality is not conditioned by religious or racial distinctions; and because the questioner has divided the world into Christian and Hindu, into India and Argentina, he has helped to create misery and suffering in the world. (Applause) When I talk in India about nationalism, they say to me, "Go to England and tell the people there that nationalism is stupid, because England is preventing us from living." (Laughter) And when I come here, you tell me, "Go somewhere else and leave us with our own belief and religion. Do not disturb us." (Laughter) If our own beliefs and traditions satisfy you, then you will not listen to what I say because your traditions and your beliefs are shelters under which you take cover in time of trouble. You don't want to face life, therefore you say, "I am satisfied; don't disturb me." If you would really understand truth, if you would know love, you must be free from beliefs and organized religions. There can not be "our religion" and " the religion of another", your beliefs and doctrines as against another's. The world will be happy when there need be no preacher, when each individual is really fulfilling; and as he is not, I feel I can help him in his fulfilment. If you feel that I am disturbing, creating sorrow, then you will naturally remain in the religion to which you belong, with its exploitations and illusions; but life will not leave you alone. In that lies the beauty of life. However much you have protected and enclosed yourself within certainties, securities and beliefs, the wave of life breaks down all your structure. But the man who has no support, no security, shall know the bliss of life. Question: What is that memory, created by incomplete action in the present, from which you say we must liberate ourselves? Krishnamurti: In the brief introduction to this talk, I tried to explain how memories as self-defences are crippling our thought and action. Let me take an example. If you have been brought up as a Christian, with certain beliefs, you approach life, experience, with that limited mentality. Naturally those prejudices and limitations prevent you from understanding ex- perience fully. So there is incompleteness in your thought and action. Now this barrier which creates incompleteness is what I call memory. These memories act as a self-defensive warning, as a guide against life to help you avoid suffering. So most of our memories are self protective reactions against intelligence, against life. When a mind is free from all these self-protective reactions, memories, then there is the full movement of life, of reality. Or take another example: suppose you have been brought up in a certain social class, with all its snobbishness, restrictions and traditions. With that hindrance, with that burden, you cannot understand or live the fullness of life. So these self-protective memories are the real cause of suffering; and if you would be free from suffering, there cannot be these self-protective values by which you seek to guide yourself. If you will think over this, if your mind is aware of its own creations, then you will discern how you have established for yourself guides, values, which are but memories, as a protection against the incessant movement of life. A man that is enslaved to self-protective memories cannot understand life, nor be in love with life. His action towards life is the action of self-defence. His mind is so enclosed that the swift movements of life cannot enter it. He searches out eternity, immortality, away from life, the eternal, the immortal, and so he lives in a continual series of illusions. To such a man, whose consciousness is bound by memories, there can never be the eternal becoming of life. Question: Is there no danger in seeking divinity or immortality? Cannot this become a limitation? Krishnamurti: It is a cruel limitation if you seek it, for your search is merely an escape from life; but if you do not escape from life, if through action you deeply understand its conflicts. agonies and suffering, then the mind frees itself from its own limitations and there is immortality. Life itself is immortal. You are trying to find immortality. you do not let it happen. A man who is trying to fall in love shall never know love. This is what is happening to all those people who are seeking immortality. for to them immortality is a security, an egotistic continuance. If the mind is free of the search for security, which is very subtle, then there is the bliss of that life which is immortal. Question: Why do you disregard the sexual problem? Krishnamurti: I do not; but if you would understand this question, do not try to solve it separately, away from the rest of the human problems. They are all one. Sex becomes a problem when there is frustration. When work, which should be the true expression of our being, becomes merely mechanical, stupid and useless, then there is frustration; when our emotional lives, which should be rich and complete, are thwarted through fear, then there is frustration; when the mind, which should be alert, pliable, limitless, is weighted down by tradition, self-protective memories, ideals, beliefs, then there is frustration. So sex becomes an over-emphasized and unnatural problem. Where there is fulfilment, there are no problems. When you are in love, vulnerably, sex is not a problem. For the man to whom sex is mere sensation, it becomes an urgent problem, eating away his mind and heart. You will be free from this problem only when, through action, the mind frees itself from all self-imposed limitations, illusions and fears. There are questions dealing with reincarnation, with death and with life hereafter, with spiritualism, mediumship, and with various other matters, which it would be impossible to answer, as my time is limited. But if you are interested, you can read some of the things I have already said. You seek explanations, but explanations are as dust to a man who is hungry. It is only action that awakens the mind, so that it begins to discern. Where there is discernment. explanations have no value. Take this question, for example: "What is your conception of God?" If you are merely satisfied by an explanation, then it shows the poverty of your being; and I fear most people are thus satisfied. Your religions are based on explanations, on revelations, on the experiences of other people. So what is the use of my giving you another explanation, or giving you another belief to add to your museum of dead beliefs? If you deeply thought over this whole idea of seeking God, then you would see that you are subtly, cunningly escaping from the conflict of life. If you understand life, if you grasp the deep significance of living, then life itself is God, not some super-intelligence away from your life. But this demands great penetration of thought, not seeking satisfaction or explanation. In the very understanding of conflict and suffering, when all security and support have become useless, when you are face to face with life without any hindrances. there is God. July 22, 1935 NATIONAL COLLEGE, LA PLATA, ARGENTINA PUBLIC TALK 2ND AUGUST, 1935 Friends, To most of us, profession is apart from our personal life. There is the world of profession and technique, and the life of subtle feelings, ideas, fears and love. We are trained for a world of profession, and only occasionally across this training and compulsion, we hear the vague whisperings of reality. The world of profession has become gradually overpowering and exacting, taking almost all our time, so that there is little chance for deep thought and emotion. And so the life of reality, the life of happiness, becomes more and more vague and recedes into the distance. Thus we lead a double life: the life of profession, of work, and the life of subtle desires, feelings and hopes. This division into the world of profession and the world of sympathy, love and deep wanderings of thought, is a fatal impediment to the fulfilment of man. As in the lives of most people this separation exists, let us inquire if we cannot bridge over this destructive gulf. With rare exceptions, following any particular profession is not the natural expression of an individual. It is not the fulfilment or complete expression of one's whole being. If you examine this, you will see that it is but a careful training of the individual to adjust himself to a rigid, inflexible system. This system is based on fear, acquisitiveness and exploitation. We have to discover by questioning deeply and sincerely, not superficially, whether this system to which individuals are forced to adjust themselves is really capable of liberating man's intelligence, and so bringing about his fulfilment. If this system is capable of truly freeing the individual to deep fulfilment, which is not mere egotistic self-expression, then we must give our entire support to it. So we must look at the whole basis of this system and not be carried away by its superficial effects. For a man who is trained in a particular profession, it is very difficult to discern that this system is based on fear, acquisitiveness and exploitation. His mind is already vested in self-interest, so he is incapable of true action with regard to this system of fear. Take, for example, a man who is trained for the army or the navy; he is incapable of perceiving that armies must inevitably create wars. Or take a man whose mind is twisted by a particular religious belief; he is incapable of discerning that religion as organized belief must poison his whole being. So each profession creates a particular mentality, which prevents the complete understanding of the integrated man. As most of us are being trained or have already been trained to twist and fit ourselves to a particular mould, we cannot see the tremendous importance of taking the many human problems as a whole and not dividing them up into various categories. As we have been trained and twisted, we must free ourselves from the mould and reconsider, act anew, in order to understand life as a whole. This demands of each individual that he shall, through suffering, liberate himself from fear. Though there are many forms of fear, social economic and religious, there is only one cause, which is the search for security. When we individually destroy the walls and forms that the mind has created in order to protect itself, thus engendering fear, then there comes true intelligence which will bring about order and happiness in this world of chaos and suffering. On one side there is the mould of religion, impeding and frustrating the awakening of individual intelligence, and on the other the vested interest of society and profession. In these moulds of vested interest the individual is being forcibly and cruelly trained, without regard for his individual fulfilment. Thus the individual is compelled to divide life into profession as a means of livelihood, with all its stupidities and exploitations; and subjective hopes, fears, and illusions, with all their complexities and frustrations. Out of this separation is born conflict, ever preventing individual fulfilment. The present chaotic condition is the result and expression of this continual conflict and compulsion of the individual. The mind must disentangle itself from the various compulsions, authorities, which it has created for itself through fear, and thus awaken that intelligence which is unique and not individualistic. Only this intelligence can bring about the true fulfilment of man. This intelligence is awakened through the continual questioning of those values to which the mind has become accustomed, to which it is constantly adjusting itself. For the awakening of this intelligence, individuality is of the greatest importance. If you blindly follow a pattern laid down, then you are no longer awakening intelligence, but merely conforming, adjusting yourself, through fear, to an ideal, to a system. The awakening of this intelligence is a most difficult and arduous task, for the mind is so timorous that it is ever creating shelters to protect itself. A man who would awaken this intelligence must be supremely alert, ever aware, not to escape into an illusion; for when you begin to question these standards and values, there is conflict and suffering. To escape from that suffering, the mind begins to create another set of values, entering into the limitation of a new, enclosure. So it moves from one prison to another, thinking that it is living, evolving. The awakening of this intelligence destroys the false division of life into profession or outward necessity, and the inward retreat from frustration into illusion, and brings about the completeness of action. Thus through intelligence alone can there be true fulfilment and bliss for man. Question: What is your attitude towards the university and official, organized teaching? Krishnamurti: For what is the individual being trained by the university? What does it call education? He is being trained to fight for himself, and thus fit himself into a system of exploitation. Such a training must inevitably create confusion and misery in the world. You are being trained for certain professions within a system of exploitation, whether you like the system or not. Now this system is fundamentally based on acquisitive fear, and so there must be the creation in each individual of those barriers which will separate and protect him from others. Take, for example, the history of any country. In it you will find that the heroes, the warriors of that particular country, are praised. There you will find the stimulation of racial egotism, power, honour and prestige; which but indicates stupid narrowness and limitation. So gradually the spirit of nationalism is instilled; through papers, through books, through waving of flags, we are being trained to accept nationalism as a reality, so that we can be exploited. (Applause) Then again, take religion. Because it is based on fear, it is destroying love, creating illusions, separating men. And to cover up that fear, you say that it is the love of God. (Applause) So education has come to be merely conformity to a particular system; instead of awakening the individual's intelligence, it is merely compelling him to conform and so hinders his true morality and fulfilment. Question: Do you think that the present laws and the present sys- tem, which are based on egotism and the desire for individual security, can ever help people towards a better and happier life? Krishnamurti: I wonder why I am asked this question? Does not the questioner himself realize that these things prevent human beings from living completely? If he does, what is his individual action towards this whole structure? To be merely in revolt is comparatively useless, but individually to free oneself through one's own action, releases creative intelligence and so the bliss of life. This means that you yourself must be responsible, and not wait for some collective group to change the environment. If each one of you truly felt the necessity for individual fulfilment, you would be continually destroying the crystallization of authority and compulsion which man ever seeks and clings to for his comfort and security. Question: It is said that you are against all kinds of authority. Do you mean to say that there is no need for some kind of authority in the family or at school? Krishnamurti: Whether authority should exist or not in a school or family will be answered when you yourself understand the whole significance of authority. Now, what I mean by authority is conformity, through fear, to a particular pattern, whether of environment, of tradition and ideal or of memory. Take religion as it is. There you will see that, through faith and belief, man is being held in the prison of authority, because each one is seeking his own security through what he calls immortality. This is nothing but a craving for egotistic continuance; and a man who says there is immortality. gives a guarantee to his security. (Laughter) So gradually, through fear, he comes to accept authority, the authority of religious threats. fears. superstitions, hopes and beliefs. Or he rejects the outer authorities and develops his own personal ideals, which become his authorities, clinging to them in the hope of not being hurt by life. So authority becomes the means of self-defence against life, against intelligence. When you understand this deep significance of authority, there is not chaos but the awakening of intelligence. As long as there is fear, there must be subtle forms of authority and ideals to which each one submits, to avoid suffering. Thus, through fear, each one creates exploiters. Where there is authority, compulsion, there cannot be intelligence, which alone can bring about true cooperation. Question: How could the liberty of the occidental world be organized according to the sensibility of the oriental? Krishnamurti: I am afraid I don't quite understand the question. To most people, the Orient is something mysterious and spiritual. But the orientals are people just like yourselves; like yourselves they suffer, they exploit, they have fears, they have spiritual longings and many illusions. The Orient has different superficial customs and habits, but fundamentally we are all alike, whether of the West or of the East. Some rare people of the East have given thought to self-culture, to the discovery of the true significance of life and death, to illusion and reality. Most people have a romantic idea of India, but I am not going to give a talk about that country. Don't, please, seek to adjust yourselves to a supposedly spiritual land, like the East, but become aware of the prison in which you are held. In understanding how it is created, and in discerning its true significance, the mind will liberate itself from fear and illusion. Question: What should be the attitude of society towards criminals? Krishnamurti: It all depends on whom you call criminals. (Laughter, applause) A man who steals because he cannot help it, must be looked after and treated as a kleptomaniac. The man who steals because he is hungry, we also call a criminal, because he is taking something away from those who have. It is the system that makes him go hungry, to be in want, and it is the system that turns him into a criminal. Instead of altering the system, we force the so-called criminal into a prison. Then there is the man who, with his ideas, disturbs the vested interest of religion or of worldly power. You call him also a dangerous criminal and get rid of him. Now, it depends on the way you look at life, as to whom you call a criminal. If you are acquisitive, possessive, and another says that acquisition leads to exploitation, to sorrow and cruelty, you call that person a criminal, or an idealist. Because you cannot see the greatness and the practicality of non-acquisition, of not being attached, you think he is a disturber of the peace. I say you can live in the world, where there is this continual acquisitiveness and exploitation, without being attached, possessive. Question: Many of us are conscious of and take part in this corrupt life around us. What can we do to free ourselves from its suffocating effects? Krishnamurti: You can be intellectually aware, and so there will be no action; but if you are aware with your whole being, then there is action, which alone will free the mind from corruption. If you are merely aware intellectually, then you ask such a question as this. Then you say, "Tell me how to act", which means, "Give me a system, a method to follow, so that I can escape from that action which may necessitate suffering." Because of this demand, people have created exploiters throughout the world. If you are really conscious with your whole being that a particular thing is a hindrance, a poison, then you will be completely free from it. If you are conscious of a snake in the room - and that consciousness is generally acute, for there is fear involved in it - you never ask another how to get rid of the snake. (Laughter) In the same way, if you are completely, deeply aware, for example, of nationalism, or any other limitation, you will then not ask how to get rid of it; you discern for yourself its utter stupidity. If you are wholly conscious that the acceptance of authority in religion and politics is destructive of intelligence, then you, the individual, will disentangle the mind from all the stupidities and pageantry of religion and politics. (Applause) If you truly felt all this, then you would not merely applaud, but individually you would act. The mind has imposed upon itself many hindrances, through its own desire for security. These hindrances are preventing intelligence and hence the complete fulfilment of man. Were I to offer a new system, it would merely be a substitution, which would not make you think anew, from the beginning. But if you become aware of how through fear you are creating many limitations, and free yourself from them, then there will be for you the life of rich beauty, the life of eternal becoming. It is very good of you, sirs, to have invited me. and I thank you for listening to me. August 2, 1935 ROSARIO AND MENDOZA PUBLIC TALKS 27TH AND 28TH JULY, 25TH AND 27TH AUGUST, 1935 Friends, When one hears something new, one is apt to brush it aside without thought; and as I come from India, people are inclined to imagine that I bring to them an oriental mysticism which is of no value in daily life. Please listen to this talk without prejudice, and do not brush it aside by calling me a mystic, an anarchist, a communist, or by any other name. If you will kindly listen without prejudice but critically, you will see that what I have to say has a fundamental value. It is most difficult to be truly critical, because one is so accustomed to examine ideas and experiences through the veil of opposition and prejudice, that one perverts the clarity of understanding. If you are Christians, as most of you are, you are bound to examine what I say through the particular bias that your religion has given you. Or if you happen to belong to some political party, you will naturally consider what I am going to say, through the bias of that particular party. We cannot solve human problems through any bias, whether of a system, party or religion. Everywhere in the world there is constant suffering which seems to have no end. There is the exploitation of one class by another. We see imperialism with all its stupidities, with its wars, and the cruelties of vested interest, whether in ideas, beliefs or power. Then there is the problem of death and the search for happiness and certainty in another world. One of the fundamental reasons why you belong to a religion or to a religious sect is that it promises you a safe abode in the hereafter. We see all this, those of us who are actively, intelligently interested in life; and desirous of a fundamental change, we think that there ought to be a mass movement. Now to create a truly collective movement, there must be the awakening of the individual. I am concerned with that awakening. If each individual awakens in himself that true intelligence, then he will bring about collective welfare, without exploitation and cruelty. As long as the intelligent fulfilment of the individual is hindered, there must be chaos, sorrow and cruelty. If you are driven to co-operate through fear, there can never be individual fulfilment. So I am not concerned with creating a new organi- zation or party, or offering a new substitution, but with awakening that intelligence which alone can solve the many human miseries and sorrows. Now most of us are not individuals, but merely the expression of a collective system of traditions, fears and ideals. There can be true individuality only when each one, through conflict and suffering, discerns the deep significance of the environment in which he is held. If you are merely the expression of the collective, you are no longer an individual; but if you understand the whole significance of the collective consciousness which now dominates the world, then you will begin to awaken that intelligence which becomes the true expression and fulfilment of the individual. We are now but the expression, the result of past and present environment. We are the result of compulsion and imposition, moulded into a particular pattern, the pattern of tradition, of certain values and beliefs, of fear and authority. For convenience we will divide this mouId that is holding us, as the inner and the outer, the religious and the economic, but in reality such a division does not exist. Religion is but an organized system of belief, based on fear and on the desire for security. Where there is self-interest, the desire for security, there must be fear; and through religion you seek what is called immortality, a security in the hereafter, and those who assure and promise you that immortality become your guides, your teachers and authorities. So out of your own desire for egotistic continuance. you create exploiters. When the mind seeks security through immortality, it must create authority, and that authority becomes the constant cause of fear and of oppression. So to guide and to hold you, there are ideals. beliefs, dogmas and creeds, out of which is born what is called religion. To minister to your illusory needs, brought about through fear, there are priests, who become your exploiters. So you have religions with their vested interest, fear, oppression and exploitation, holding man and thwarting the true, intelligent awakening and fulfilment of the individual. Religions also separate man from man. In that mould each individual is held consciously or unconsciously, subtly or crudely. Outwardly we have created a system of individual security based on exploitation. Through acquisitiveness and the system of family, we have created the distinction of classes, cultivated the disease of nationalism, imperialism, and that great stupidity, war. You have this mould, this environment of which almost all of us are unconscious, for it is part of us; it is the very expression of our desires, fears and hopes. While you conform consciously or thoughtlessly to this system, you are not individuals. True individuality can come into being only when you begin to question this mould of tradition, values, ideals. You can understand its true significance only when you are in conflict, not otherwise. With your whole being you must turn upon the environment, which then creates conflict, suffering, and from that there comes the clarity of understanding. How can there be individual fulfilment if you are unconscious of this machine, this mould that is holding you, shaping you, guiding you? How can there be completeness, bliss, when these unquestioned values are continually thwarting, perverting your full comprehension? When you as individuals become fully conscious of this prison and are free from it, only then can there be true fulfilment. Intelligence alone can solve human misery and sorrow. Question: Is it possible to live without some kind of prejudice? Are you yourself not prejudiced against religious and spiritual organizations? Krishnamurti: I do not think I am prejudiced against religious or spiritual organizations. I have belonged to them, and I have seen their utter stupidity and their ways of exploitation. There is no illusion with regard to them, and so there is no prejudice. Now that leads us to a further point, which is, Can man live without any illusion? In a world where there is so much suffering, so much mental and emotional anguish, where there is such ruthless cruelty and exploitation, can one live without some means of escape from this horror? Where there is a desire to escape, there must be the creation of illusion in which one takes shelter. If in your work, in your life, there is no fulfilment, then there must be an escape into some romantic idea or into an illusion. So where there is conflict between yourself and life, there must be prejudice and illusion which offer you an escape. It may be an escape through religion, through mere activity, or through sensation. If you deeply understand the hindrances that cause conflict between yourself and life, and thus are free from them, then the mind does not need illusions. Your concern is with finding out for yourself whether you are escaping from life, not with judging me or another. Escape destroys the intelligent functioning of the mind. Illusion, prejudice, ceases when through conflict the mind frees itself from all the subtle escapes it has established in search of self-defence. Question: Most of the discussions around your ideas are being provoked by your frequent use of the word "exploitation". Can you tell us exactly what you mean by exploitation? Krishnamurti: Where there is fear, which is the result of seeking security, there must be exploitation. Now to free the mind of fear is one of the most difficult things to do. People say so very readily that they are not afraid; but if they really want to find out whether they are free from fear, they have to test themselves in action. They have to understand the whole structure of tradition and values and in separating themselves from these they will create conflict, and in that conflict they will discover whether they are free. Now most of us are acting in conformity with certain established values. We do not know their true significance. If you want to discover the consistency of your being, step out of that rut and you will then discern the many subtle fears that enslave your mind. When the mind liberates itself from fear, then there will not be exploitation, cruelty and sorrow. Question: What advice can you give to those of us who are eager to understand your teachings? Krishnamurti: If you begin to live and so understand life, then you cannot help grasping the significance of what I am teaching. Don't you see, sirs, if you follow anybody, it does not matter who it is, you are creating further compulsion, further limitation, and so destroying intelligence, true fulfilment. Truth is of no person. If in action the mind frees itself from the limitation of fear and so of authority. compulsion, then there is the understanding of that which is truth. Question: You say that ideals are a barrier to the understanding of life. How is this possible? Surely a man without ideals is little more than a savage. Krishnamurti: Let us not consider who is and who is not a savage, for in this world that is difficult to determine. (Laughter) Rather let us consider whether ideals are necessary for plenitude and rich understanding. I say that ideals, beliefs, fundamentally prevent man from living fully. Ideals seem necessary when life is chaotic, sorrow-laden and cruel. Caught in this turmoil you cling to ideals as a way of escape, as a necessity for crossing the sea of confusion. and so they are false and deceptive. When you do not understand the present suffering and agony, you escape into an ideal. When you do not love your neighbour, you talk about the ideal of brotherhood. In the same way, when you talk about the ideal of peace, then you are not truly discerning the cause that creates separation, war, with all its brutalities and stupidities. Our minds are so crippled, so burdened with ideals, that we cannot see clearly the actual. So free the mind from your ideals, which are but frustrated hopes; then only will it be capable of discerning the present with all its significance. Instead of escaping, act in the present. That action uncovers beauty which no ideal can reveal. Question: What do you mean exactly by "incomplete action"? Can you give us examples of such action? Krishnamurti: Each one of us is brought up with a certain background. That background is but memory. These memories are continually impeding the completeness of action. That is, if you have been brought up in a certain tradition, that memory prevents the complete understanding of experience or of action; it grows and becomes an increasing limitation, hindrance, separating itself from the movement of life. Where there is incompleteness of action, there is no fulfilment, which engenders fear. From this there arises the search for security in the hereafter. Completeness of action is the continual movement or the flow of life, reality, without the limitation of self protective memory. Question: Occasionally, some wealthy individual who loses his money commits suicide. Since wealth does not seem to confer lasting happiness, what must one do in order to be really happy? Krishnamurti: The people who accumulate wealth depend for their happiness on the power which money gives. When that power is removed, they come face to face with their own utter emptiness. As long as one is looking for power, either through money or through virtue, there must be emptiness, and for that emptiness there is no remedy, because power in itself is an illusion, born of egotistic limitation, fear. Understanding can come only in discerning the falseness of power itself, and this demands a constant alertness of mind, not a renunciation after accumulation. If there is that sense of acquisitiveness which destroys love, charity, then there is an emptiness, a shallowness, a frustration of life. In that there is no fulfilment. Question: Some of your followers say that you are the New Messiah. I should like to know whether you are an impostor, living on the reputation established for you by others, or whether you really have the interest of humanity at heart and are capable of making a constructive contribution to human thought. Krishnamurti: I don't think it matters very much what others say or do not say concerning me. If you are merely followers, you cannot know the rich plenitude of life. What matters is that you, without being imposed upon by authority, by opinion, discover for yourself whether what I say has any deep significance. Some, by merely saying that it has, help to create the empty cage of opinion which limits the thoughtless; and others can easily create an opposite opinion by declaring that what I say is false, impractical, and so catch the unconscious in a net of words. The questioner asks whether I am living on the reputation established for me by others. Please be assured that I am not. This idea of living on the past is destructive of intelligence. Most people, after achieving a certain height, rest on their laurels and thus slowly decay; and as they have that fatal habit, they try to draw me into their own illusion. To me, living is completeness of action, which is its own beauty, and which neither seeks rewards nor avoids suffering. To find out the truth of what I say, you, as an individual, will have to experiment and discover for yourself, and not rely on opinion. Whether I am an impostor or not is for me to find out, not for you to judge. How can you judge whether I am an impostor or not? You can measure only by a standard, and all standards are limiting. To judge another is fundamentally wrong. I know, without any fear, illusion or self-deception, that what I am saying and living is born of life. Not through the desire to judge but only through conflict can you awaken intelligence. It is only in the state of conflict and suffering that you can understand what is true. But when you begin to suffer, you must keep intensely aware, otherwise you will create an escape into an illusion. Now the vicious circle of suffering and escape will continue until you begin to realize the futility of escape. Only then will there be intelligence, which alone can solve the many human problems. Question: You say that all those who belong to a religion or who hold a belief are enslaved by fear. Is one free of fear by the mere fact of belonging to no religion? Are you yourself, who belong to no religion, really free of fear, or are you preaching a theory? Krishnamurti: I am not preaching mere theory. I am talking out of the fullness of understanding. Not belonging to any religion certainly does not indicate that one is free from fear. Fear is so subtle. so swift, so cunning, that it hides itself in many places. To trace fear down the lane of its own retreat there must be the intense and burning desire to uncover fear, which means that you must be willing to lose completely all self-interest. But you want to be secure, both here and in the hereafter. So, desiring security you cultivate fear; and being afraid, you try to escape through the illusion of religion, ideals, sensation and activity. As long as there is fear, which is born of self-protective desires, mind will be caught in the net of many illusions. A man who really desires to discover the root of fear and so liberate himself from it, must become aware of the motive and purpose of his action. This awareness, if it is intense, will destroy the cause of fear. Question: What are the characteristics of nationalism, which you call stupidity? Are all forms of nationalism bad, or only some? Isn't it wonderful that your country is striving to free itself from the yoke of England? Why are you not fighting for the independence of your country? Krishnamurti: To love anything beautiful in a country is normal and natural, but when that love is used by exploiters in their own interest, it is called nationalism. Nationalism is fanned into imperialism, and then the stronger people divide and exploit the weaker, with the Bible in one hand and a bayonet in the other. The world is dominated by the spirit of cunning, ruthless exploitation, from which war must ensue. This spirit of nationalism is the greatest stupidity. Every individual should be free to live fully. completely. As long as one tries to liberate one's own particular country and not man, there must be racial hatreds, the divisions of people and classes. The problems of man must be solved as a whole, not as confined to countries or people. Question: What do you think of your enemies, the priests, and the vested interests which in Argentina have prevented the broadcasting of your lectures? Krishnamurti: To regard anyone as an enemy is a great folly. Either one understands and so helps, or one does not understand and so hinders. The diffusion of that which is intelligent can only be hindered by stupidity. Each one of you has vested interests to which you are clinging, and which by continual thought and action you are increasing. If one attacks your particular vested interest, your immediate response is to be on the defensive and to retaliate. A man who has something to guard. something to protect, is ever in fear, and so acts most cruelly and thoughtlessly; but a man who has really nothing to lose, because he has accumulated nothing, has no fear; he lives completely, truly fulfilling. Question: Has experience any value? Krishnamurti: What happens when there is experience? It leaves a mark on the mind, which we call memory. With that scar, with that memory, we meet the next experience, and from that experience we gather further memory, increasing the scar. Each experience leaves its mark on the mind. Now these collective layers of memories are essentially based on the desire to protect yourself against suffering. That is, you come to experience already prepared, already protected by your past memories. You are not really living completely in that experience, but you are merely learning how to protect yourself against it, against life. Experience becomes valueless to a man who merely uses it as a means of further self-defence against life. But if you live in an experience wholly, integrally, without this desire for self-protection, then it does not destroy discernment; then it reveals the great heights and depths of life. Now, to use experience as a means of advancing, that is, increasing the walls of self-protection, is generally called evolution. You think that through time this memory, this self-protective record, can reach truth or perfection or God. It cannot. True experience is the breaking down of those self-protective walls and freeing the mind, consciousness, from those scars that prevent discernment, fulfilment. Question: What kind of action do you think would be most useful for the world? Krishnamurti: An action that is born without fear, and therefore of intelligence, is inherently true. If your action is based on fear, on authority, then such action must create chaos and confusion. In freeing action of all fear, there is love. intelligence. Question: Isn't the sexual problem a real slavery for man? Krishnamurti: If we merely deal with this problem superficially, we cannot find a solution for it. Emotionally and mentally we are most of the time being frustrated by authority and fear. Our work, which should be the expression of our fulfilment, has become mechanical and weary. We are merely trained to fit into a system, and so there is frustration, emptiness. We are forced to take up a particular profession because of economic necessity, so we are thwarted in our true expression. Through fear we force ourselves to accept the many superstitions and illusions of religion. Our desires, thwarted and limited, try to express themselves through sex, which thus becomes a consuming problem. Because we try to solve it exclusively, apart from the rest of the human problems, we can find no solution for it. Because we have destroyed love through possessiveness, through mere sensation, sex has become a problem. Where there is love, without the sense of possessiveness or attachment, sex cannot become a problem. Question: Why are there oppressors and oppressed, rich and poor, good people and bad? Krishnamurti: They exist because you allow them. The oppressor exists because you are willing to submit yourself to oppression, and because you also are eager to oppress another. You think that by becoming rich you will be happy, and so you create the poor. By your action you are creating the oppressor and the oppressed, the rich and the poor, and supporting those conditions which produce the so-called bad, the criminal. If you as individuals are tormented by all this hideous suffering in you and about you, then you will know how to act voluntarily, without fear, without seeking reward. Question: Which has to be assured first, collective or individual well being? Krishnamurti: We have to consider, not which of these shall come first, but what is the true fulfilment of man. I say you will know what this is when the mind is free from those limitations which it has placed about itself in its search for security. Following a system or imitating another does not lead to fulfilment. What are the impediments? The desire to protect oneself, both here and in the hereafter. Where there is the desire to protect oneself, there must be fear which creates many illusions. One of the illusions is the authority or compulsion of an ideal, belief or tradition, the authority of self-protective memories against the movement of life. Fear creates many limitations. When the mind becomes aware of one of its limitations, then in freeing itself from that, the real creator of illusions and limitations is revealed to be those self-protective memories called the "I". The liberation from this limited consciousness is true fulfilment. The awakening of intelligence is the assurance of the well-being of the individual, and therefore of the whole. Question: I have heard that you are against love. Are you? Krishnamurti: If I were, it would be very stupid. Possessiveness destroys love, and against that I am. To help you to possess, you have laws which are called moral, and which the state and religion support. Love is hedged about by fear which destroys its beauty. Question: Are we responsible for our actions? Krishnamurti: The majority of people would prefer not to be responsible for their actions. After all, who is responsible if you are not? The chaos in the world is brought about by the irresponsible action of the individual; but it is through individual conscious action alone that the oppression, exploitation and suffering can be swept away. We do not desire to act deeply, for that would involve conflict and suffering for ourselves, and so we try to evade full responsibility. Those who are in sorrow must awaken to the fullness of their own action. Question: Your ideas, although destructive, greatly appeal to me, and I accept them and have been practising them for some time. I have abandoned the ideas of religion, nationalism and possession; but I must frankly confess that I am tormented with doubt and feel that I may merely have exchanged one cage for another. Can you help me? Krishnamurti: Anyone who tells you exactly what to do, and gives you a method to follow, seems to you to be positive. He is but helping you to imitate, to follow, and so he is really destructive to intelligence and brings about negation. If you have merely given up religion, nationalism and possession, without understanding their deep and intrinsic significance, then you will surely fall into another cage, because you hope to gain something in return. You are really looking for an exchange, and so there is no deep understanding which alone can destroy all cages and limitations. If you truly understood that religion, nationalism, possessiveness, with their full significance, are poisons in themselves, then there would be intelligence, which is ever free from all sense of reward. Question: Are you the Founder of a new Universal Religion? Krishnamurti: If by religion you mean new dogmas, creeds, another prison to hold man and create further fear in him, then certainly I am not. When you lose the sense of Godhood, the sense of beauty, then you become religious or join a religious sect. I desire to awaken that intelligence which alone can help man to fulfil, to live happily, without sorrow. But it depends on you whether there shall be mere followers and so destroyers, or whether there shall be love and human unity. Question: Can you give us your idea of God and the immortality of the soul, or are these things merely stupidities invented by clever men in order to exploit millions of human beings? Krishnamurti: Millions are exploited because they seek in the hereafter their own egotistic continuance, which they call immortality. They want security in the hereafter, and so they create the exploiter. You are used to the idea that the ego, the "I", is something that endures and lasts forever. The ego is nothing but a series of memories. What are you? A form, a name, with certain prejudices. qualities, hopes and fears. (Laughter) And through it all, through these limitations, there is a something which is not yours and mine, which is eternal. That is ever becoming, that is true. You cannot measure it by words or know it through explanations. That is to be realized through the liberating process of action. The mere inquiry into God, life, truth or whatever name you may give to it, indicates the desire to escape from the present, from the conflict of ignorance. Ignorance exists when the mind is but the storehouse of accumulative, self-protective memories, which is the "I" consciousness. This limited consciousness hinders the perception, the realization of that eternal becoming, the movement of life. SANTIAGO 1ST PUBLIC TALK 1ST SEPTEMBER, 1935 Friends, Our human problems demand clear, simple and direct thinking. Some of you may imagine that by merely listening to a few of the talks which I am going to give, your problems will be solved. You desire immediate remedies for the many aches and sorrows, and superficial alterations which will revolutionize your thought, your whole being. There is only one way to find intelligent happiness, and that is through your own perception, discernment; and through action alone you can dissolve the many impediments that stand in the way of fulfilment. If you can perceive for yourself simply and directly the limitations that prevent deep and complete living. and how they have been created. then you yourself will be able to dissolve them. I would beg of you, in listening to me, to pass beyond the convenient and satisfactory illusion which has divided thought as oriental and occidental. Truth is beyond all climes, peoples and systems. Though I come from India, what I say is not conditioned by the thought of that country. I am concerned with human suffering which exists all over the world. And please do not put aside what I say by thinking that it is not practical but merely some form of oriental mysticism. I would beg of you not to think in terms of formulae, systems, catch-phrases, but to free the mind from the background of many generations, and think anew, directly and simply. Please do not think that by calling me an anarchist or communist, or by giving to me some other convenient name, you have understood what I have said. We must think anew and understand the human problem as a whole, and then only can we live harmoniously and intelligently. Where there is true individual fulfilment, there will also be the true well-being of the whole, the collective. If each one of you can fulfil, live in complete harmony - which demands great intelligence and not the pursuit of egotistic desires -then there will be the well-being of the whole. Though we must have a complete revolution of thought and desire, it must be the outcome of voluntary comprehension on the part of the individual, and not of compulsion. As most of you are deeply interested in happiness and in fulfilment, and have not come here merely out of curiosity, if you will carefully understand what I say, and act, then there will be the true ecstasy of life. There is intense suffering throughout the world. There is hunger amidst plenty. There is exploitation of class by class, of women by men, and of men by women. There is the absurdity of nationalism which is only the collective expression of egotistic search for security. This chaos is the objective expression of that inward suffering of man. Subjectively there is uncertainty, the agonizing fear of death, of incompleteness, of emptiness. Our action in the subjective and objective world is but the expression of egotistic desire for security. So the mind has created many impediments, limitations, and till we completely and thoroughly understand these impediments and voluntarily liberate ourselves from them, there cannot be fulfilment. By individually understanding and liberating ourselves from these limitations, we can create true and necessary action, and thereby change the environment. A great many people think that there must be a mass movement in order to bring about individual fulfilment. But to create a true mass movement, there must first be a complete revolution of thought and desire in the individual, in you. That, to me, is true revolution, this individual and voluntary change. It must begin with you, with the individual, and not with a vague, collective mass. Don't be hypnotized by the phrase "mass movement". Each individual who is caught up in suffering must change, he must understand the cause of his own sorrow and the hindrances he has created around himself. It is no use merely seeking a substitution, for that will in no way solve our human problems and agonies. That is merely a false adjustment to a false condition. Most of us in searching for a substitution are merely clinging to our own egotistic pursuits. Do not, please, at the end of the talk, say that I have not given you a positive system. I am going to try to explain how our sorrows have been created; and when you discern the cause for yourself, then there will be a direct action which alone will be positive. This action born of comprehension, of intelligence, is not the imitation of a system. Each individual is seeking security, both subjectively and objectively. His subjective search is for certainty, so that the mind can cling to it, undisturbed. And his objective search is for security, power and well-being. Now what happens when you seek security, certainty? There must be fear; and if you are conscious of your thought, you will discern that it has its root in fear. Morality, religion and objective conditions are based fundamentally on fear, for they are the outcome of the desire on the part of the individual to be secure. Though you may not have any religious belief, yet you have the desire to be subjectively secure, which is but the religious spirit. Let us understand the structure of what we call religion. As I said, when one seeks security there must be fear; to be subjectively certain, you seek what you call immortality. In search of that security, you accept teachers who promise this immortality, and you come to regard them as authorities, to be feared, to be worshipped. And where there is this fear, there must be dogmas, creeds, beliefs, ideals and traditions to hold the mind. What you call religion is nothing but an organized form of individual self-protection for subjective security. To administer this authority based on fear, there must be priests, who become your exploiters. You are the creators of exploiters, for through fear you have created the cause for exploitation. Religion has become an organized belief, a crystallized form of thought, of morality, of oppression, domination. Religion, whose God is fear - though we use words as love, kindliness, brotherhood to cover up that deep fear-is nothing but a subjective submission to a system which assures us security. I am not talking of an ideal religion. I am talking of religion as it is throughout the world, the religion of exploitation, of vested interest. Then there is the objective search for security through egotistic power essentially based on fear and so on exploitation. If you look at our present system, you will see that it is nothing but a series of cunning exploitations of man by man. Family becomes the very centre of exploitation. Please do not misunderstand what I mean by family. I mean the centre which makes you feel secure, which demands the exploitation of your neighbour. Family, which should be the true expression of love, not of exclusiveness, becomes the means of egotistic self-perpetuation. From this there develop classes, the superior and the inferior; and the means of acquiring wealth accumulate in the hands of the few. Then there follows the disease of nationalism, nationalism as a means of exploitation, of oppression. This dangerous disease of nationalism is dividing people, as religions are doing. From this there arise sovereign governments, whose business it is to prepare for war. Wars are not a necessity; to kill another human being is not a necessity. Thus, seeking your own security, you have created many impedi- ments of which you are entirely unconscious; and these impediments are not only turning you into a machine, but are preventing you from being a true individual. In becoming conscious of these limitations there arises conflict. You do not want conflict, you merely desire satisfaction, security, and so these hindrances continue to create sorrow and turmoil. But you will find true happiness, fulfilment, reality, only when you come into conflict with the values that now oppress and limit the mind. Examining these values intellectually does not reveal their true significance. Mere intellectual examination will not create conflict, and only through suffering do you begin to understand their deep, concealed meaning. Most people are acting mechanically in a system; so it is essential that they come face to face with those values and impediments of which they are unconscious. In this there is the awakening of true intelligence, which alone can bring about fulfilment. This intelligence, which is unique, will reveal the eternal. As the sun comes out clear and bright through the dark clouds, so through your own discernment and in the purity of your own action comes the realization of that life which is ever renewing. Question: You are preaching revolutionary ideas, but how can any real good come from it unless you organize a group of followers who will bring about a revolution in fact? If you are against organization, how can you ever achieve any result? Krishnamurti: You cannot follow anyone, including myself. Out of your own voluntary comprehension you will create whatever organization is necessary. But if an organization were imposed on you, you would become merely slaves of that organization and be exploited. As there are so many organizations which are already exploiting you, what is the good of adding another to them? But what is important is that each one of you fundamentally understands, and out of that comprehension will come the true organization which will not impede individual fulfilment. I am not against all organizations. I am against those organizations which prevent individual fulfilment, and especially that organization which is called religion, with its fears, beliefs and vested interests. It is supposed to help man, but in fact it deeply hinders his fulfilment. Question: Would there not be trouble, chaos and immorality in society if there were not priests to uphold and preach morality? Krishnamurti: Surely there is now in the world utter chaos, exploitation and misery. Can you add more to it? We must consider what we mean by priests; and what we mean by immorality. I mean by a priest, one whose action is based on vested interest and so further fear. He may not be of any religious organization, but may belong to a particular system of thought and so create dogmas, creeds and fears. A priest is one who forces another, subtly or crudely, to fit himself into a particular mould. To understand what is true morality, one must first understand what morality is now. If we can discern how it has grown about us and liberate ourselves from its many stupidities and cruelties, then there will be intelligence, whose action will be truly moral, for it will not be based on fear. If you observe dispassionately, you will see that our present day morality is based on deep egotism, the search for security, not only here, but in the hereafter. Out of acquisitiveness, the desire to possess, you have established certain laws, certain opinions which you call moral. If you are voluntarily free from possessiveness, acquisitiveness, which needs deep discernment, then there is intelligence, which is the guardian of true morality. You will say. "It is all right for us, who are educated, we need no one to support us in this morality; but what about the people. the mass?" When you regard others as not being cultured, then you yourself are not; for out of this so-called consideration for others exploitation is born. What you are really concerned with when you ask about another is your own fear of conflict and disturbance. If you understood the present false morality, with its subtle cruelty, then there would be true intelligence. That alone is the assurance of kindly morality. inclusive and without fear. Question: Is character another name for limitation? Krishnamurti: Character becomes a limitation if it is merely egotistic defence against life. This development of resistance against the movement of life becomes the means of self-protection. In this there can be no intelligence. and action then only creates further limitation and sorrow. We have developed a system in which, to live at all, we must possess what is known as character, which is but a carefully cultivated resistance, a self-defence against life. A man who would live, fulfil, must have intelligence. Character is in opposition to intelligence. Character is merely a hindrance, a limitation, and in its development there cannot be fulfilment. Question: Do you really believe everything you say? Krishnamurti: Now I am telling you what to me is truth, not belief. It is the fruition of my own living. It is not the pursuit of some ideal, which is but imitation. Where there is imitation, there is belief. But if you are fulfilling, which is not to achieve something or to become something, then there is the living reality. Belief is born of illusion, and reality is free from all illusions. You cannot judge whether I am living what I am saying. I am the only person who can know about that, but you have to discover for yourself whether what I say has any deep significance for you. To judge, you must have a measure, a standard. Now that standard, as it generally happens, is the result of some prejudice or frustration. Please examine what I have to say, for in the very examination you will begin to understand the true significance of living. When there is judgment, there is either condemnation or approval, and this division, this breaking up of thought and emotion does not bring about comprehension. September 1, 1935 VALPARAISO PUBLIC TALK 4TH SEPTEMBER, 1935 Friends, Before I enter into the subject of my talk, I should like to say that I belong to no organization, and that I have come to Chile at the invitation of some kind friends. To belong to any particular organization is not very helpful to clear thinking; and as in the newspapers and elsewhere it has been said that I am a Theosophist, and as I have also been called by other labels, I think it would be well to state that I do not belong to any sect or society. and that I hold it is detrimental to force thought into a particular groove. Thought does not belong to any nationality; it is neither of the orient nor of the occident. What is true does not exclusively belong to any particular type or race. Please do not brush aside what I say as being communistic or anarchistic, or by saying that it has no particular significance for present-day problems. What I say has to be understood for its own intrinsic value, and not regarded as a new system. Also, please do not think that I am merely destructive. What one generally calls constructive is the offer of a system, so that you can follow it mechanically, without much thought. We all say that there must be a complete change in the world. We see so much exploitation of one race by another, of one class by another, of followers by their religions; so much poverty, misery, and at the same time abundance. We see the disease of nationalism, imperialism, spreading everywhere with its wars, destroying human life, your life, life which should be sacred. So we see all about us utter chaos and intense suffering. There must be a dynamic, universal change in human thought and feeling. Some say, "Leave it to the experts, let them think out a suitable system, and we will follow." Others say that there must be a mass movement to change the environment completely. Now if you merely leave the whole of the human problem to the expert. then you, the individual. will become a machine, shallow. empty. When you speak of a mass movement, what is meant by the mass? How can there be a mass movement miraculously born? It can come only through careful understanding and action on the part of the individual. To grasp this human problem, without superficial reactions, we must think directly and simply. In understanding truth, our problems will be solved. Individuals must fundamentally change. To bring about a true mass movement, which does not exploit the individual, each one of you must be responsible for your actions. You cannot be thoughtless and machine-like. Most of us are afraid to think deeply, because it involves a great effort, and also we sense in it a vague danger. But we must understand the limitations in which our minds are held, and in liberating ourselves from them. there will be true fulfilment. Each individual, subtly or grossly, is seeking constantly his own security. Where there is the objective or subjective search for security, there must be fear. Through fear he has developed objectively one kind of system, and through fear, objectively, he has submitted himself to another. So let us understand the significance of the systems which he has created. This objective system is based essentially on exploitation. As the individual is seeking his own security. family, becomes the very beginning and centre of exploitation. Family has come to mean self-perpetuation. Though we may say that we love our family, that word is misused, for such love is but the expression of possessiveness. From that possessive attachment are developed class distinctions, and the means of acquiring wealth is protected in the minds of the few. From that there arise different nationalities, again dividing people. Think how absurd it is to divide the world into classes, nationalities, religions and sects. The love of country is turned into a means of exploitation leading to imperialism; and the next step is war, killing man. Objectively. the individual's mind is held in a system of exploitation. which creates constant conflict, suffering and war. This objective expression is but the outcome of the desire and search for one's own security. Subjectively, man has created a system which he calls religion. Now religions, though they profess love, are fundamentally based on fear. Where there is fear, there must be authority. Authority creates dogmas, creeds, and ideals. Religions are but crystallized, dead forms of belief. To administer these there exist priests, who become your exploiters. (Applause) I fear you agree too easily, but you are the creators of exploiters; you crave to be secure and cling to the assurance of your own continuance. Merely escaping from this desire into some activity does not mean that you are liberated from this subtle, egotistic longing. So you have, in the objective world, a system which is ruthlessly preventing the fulfilment of each individual, and in the subjective world, an organized system which, through authority, dogmas, belief and fear, is destroying the individual discernment of reality, truth. Action born of this subjective and objective search for security is continually creating limitation, bringing about frustration. There is no completeness, fulfilment. There can be the welfare of mankind only when each individual truly fulfils. To realize individual fulfilment, you who are now but so many repetitive reactions, cogs in a social and religious machine, have to become individuals by questioning all the values, moral, social, religious, and discover for yourselves, without following any particular person or system, their true significance. Then you will discern that these values are fundamentally based on egotism, selfishness. The mere imitation of values, whose deep significance you have not understood, must lead to frustration. Instead of waiting for a miraculous change, a mass movement, you the individual must awaken; you have to come into conflict with those values which you have established through your craving for security. You do this only when there is suffering. Now most of you desire to avoid conflict, suffering; so you would rather examine values intellectually, sitting at ease. You say there must be a mass awakening, a mass movement in order to change the environment. So you throw the responsibility of action on this vague thing called the mass, and man goes on suffering. You secure for yourself a safe corner, deceitfully, cunningly call it moral, and thus add to the chaos and suffering. In this there is no happiness, intelligence or fulfilment, but only fear and sorrow. Awaken to all this, each one of you, and change the course of your thought and action. Question: Do you think the League of Nations will succeed in preventing a new world war? Krishnamurti: How can there be the cessation of war so long as there are the divisions of nationalities and sovereign governments? How can war be prevented when there are class divisions, when there is exploitation, when each one is seeking his own individual security and creating fear? There cannot be peace in the world if subjectively each one of you is at war. To bring about true peace in the world so that man is not slaughtered for an ideal called national prestige, honour, which is nothing but vested interest, you the individual must liberate yourself from acquisitiveness. As long as this exists, there must be conflict and misery. So do not merely look to a system to solve human sorrow, but become intelligent. Throw away all the stupidities that now crush the mind, and think anew, simply and directly, about war, exploitation and acquisitiveness. Then you do not have to wait for governments which at present are but the expressions of vested interest, to alter the absurd, cruel conditions in the world. Question: May divorce be a solution for the sex problem? Krishnamurti: To understand this problem, we must not deal with it by itself. If we desire to understand any problem, we must consider it comprehensively, as a whole, not apart, exclusively. Why should there be this problem at all? If you deeply examine it, you will see that your creative energy, through fear, is frustrated, limited by authority, compulsion. The mind and heart are hindered from living deeply, through fear, through what one calls morality, which is based on egotistic security. So sex has become a consuming problem, because it is only sensation, without love. If you would release the creative energy of thought and emotion and so solve this problem of sex, then the mind must disentangle itself from self. imposed hindrances and illusions. To live happily, intelligently, mind must be free of fear. Out of this awakening there comes the bliss of love, in which there is no possessiveness. This problem of sex comes into being when love is destroyed through fear, jealousy, possessiveness. Question: Are not churches useful for the moral uplift of man? Krishnamurti: Now what is the present-day morality? When you deeply understand the significance of existing morality and liberate yourself from its selfish, egotistic limitations, then there is intelligence which is truly moral. True morality is not based on fear, and so is free of compulsion. Existing morality, though it professes love and noble sentiment, is based on selfish security and acquisitiveness. Do you want that morality to be maintained? Churches are built through your own fear, through the desire for your own egotistic continuance. The morality of religion and of business is born out of deep egotistic security and so it is not moral. You must radically change your own attitude towards morality. Churches and other organizations can not help you, for they themselves are founded on man's stupidity and acquisitiveness. How can there be true morality if the governments throughout the world, and also the churches, honour those people who are the supreme expressions of acquisitiveness? This whole structure of morality is supported by you, and so by your own thought and action you alone can radically alter it and bring about true morality, true intelligence. Question: Is there life beyond the grave? What significance has death for you? Krishnamurti: Why are you concerned about the hereafter? Because living here has lost its deep significance; there is no fulfilment in this world, no lasting love, but only conflict and sorrow. So you hope for a world, the hereafter, in which to live happily, fully. Because you have not had an opportunity of fulfilment here, you hope that in another life you can realize. Or you want to meet again those whom you have lost by death, which but indicates your own emptiness. If I say there is life in the hereafter, and another says there is not, you will choose the one that gives you the greater satisfaction, and thus become a slave to authority. So the problem is not whether there is an hereafter, but to understand here the fullness of life which is eternal, to liberate action from creating limitation. For the man who fulfils, who has not separated himself from the movement of reality, for him there is no death. How can one live so that action is fulfilment? How can one be in love with life? To be in love with life, to fulfil, mind must be free, through deep understanding, from those limitations that thwart and frustrate it; you must become aware, conscious of all the impediments that dwell in the background of the mind. There is within each one the unconscious, which is continually hindering, perverting intelligence; that unconscious is making life incomplete. Through action, through living, through suffering, you must drag out all those things that are hidden, concealed. When the mind is not occupied, through fear, with the hereafter, but is fully conscious, aware of the present with its deep significance, then there is the movement of reality, of life which is not yours or mine. Question: What you say may be useful for the educated man, but will it not lead the uneducated to chaos? Krishnamurti: Now it is very difficult to decide who is the educated and who is the uneducated. (Laughter) You may read many books, have many companions, belong to different clubs, have plenty of money, and yet be the most ignorant. When you are concerned about the uneducated, it usually indicates that there is fear, that you do not wish to be disturbed or dislodged from your achievements. So you say there will be disorder and chaos. As though there were not chaos and suffering in the world now. Do not concern yourself about the uneducated, but see whether your actions are intelligent and fearless, which alone will create right environment. But if, without understanding, you merely concern yourself about the uneducated, you become a priest and an exploiter. If you who are supposed to be educated, who have leisure, do not take the full responsibility of your actions, then there will be greater chaos, misery and suffering. Question: In moments of great emptiness, when one thinks of the uselessness of one's own existence, one looks for the opposite, that is, being serviceable to others. Isn't that an escape from conflict? What must I do in such moments? They generally occur after hearing your talks, and come as a feeling of remorse. What do you think of all this? Krishnamurti: If you merely react to my talk and do not deeply understand what I say through action, through life, then you are conscious only of your own emptiness, shallowness, and so you think that you ought to develop the opposite, which is but an escape. Through action, which is not escape through activity, this emptiness gives way to fulfilment. Do not be concerned about this unhappiness, shallowness, but when the mind liberates itself from its self-imposed limitations, then there is rich completeness. September 4, 1935 SANTIAGO 2ND PUBLIC TALK 7TH SEPTEMBER, 1935 Friends, I want to talk briefly this afternoon about action and fulfilment. We realize the frustration and limitation which appear through our action. By one act we seem to create many problems, and our life becomes one endless series of them, with their conflict and misery. The mind in its movement seems to increase its own limitation, and action which should be liberating, merely intensifies its own frustration. To understand this question of action and fulfilment, mind must be free from the idea of vested interest. Where there is vested interest, whether in an ideal, in a belief, in a hope or in any other thing, there must be fear; and any action born of fear must bring about frustration, limitation. I will try to explain what are the hindrances that really stand in the way of fulfilment. I am not going to describe what is fulfilment, because the mere explanation of that cannot indicate to us the limitations and the manner of liberating the mind from them. Please see why it is necessary to understand what are the hindrances, and how they are created, and not what is fulfilment. If I were to define what it is, the mind would make of that a rigid system and merely imitate it. The very desire for fulfilment becomes a great hindrance. Instead of imitating, if we can discover for ourselves what are the limitations that cripple the mind and free it from them, then in that very freedom is fulfilment. Fulfilment, then, is not the search for security. Where there is a search for certainty, safety, comfort, that very search must engender fear. Most people, subtly or grossly, are craving for this security and by their acts create fear. So where there is fear, there is a deep longing for certainty. This desire creates its own limitations, and authority or compulsion is one of them. There are many subtle expressions of authority. It is expressed through the desire to follow an ideal, a person, or a system. Why do we want to follow an ideal? Life is chaotic, conflicting, full of pain, and we think that, if we can find an ideal, then we shall be able to guide ourselves across this aching turmoil. But in reality what is it that we are doing? We are creating what we call an ideal as a means of escape from conflict, from suffering. By following and submitting ourselves to an ideal, we think we shall be able to understand our contradictory and sorrowful life. Instead of liberating ourselves from those causes which are preventing us from living humanly, with love, with consideration, we try to escape into the illusion of an ideal. We hope by moulding our minds and hearts through discipline, through the imitation of certain ideals and beliefs, to achieve that intelligent human state. This imitation creates a hypocritical attitude towards life. With a desire to escape from the movement of life, which is ever of the present, we seek to know the purpose of life. With a desire to escape from actuality, the mind submits itself to the compulsion of ideals which are but self-protective memories against life. There is, then, this compulsion which is imposed through self defensive memories. Most of us think that through a continual series of experiences, the mind can free itself from all its many limitations. But this is not so. What happens is that each experience leaves on the mind certain scars, memories of self-protection which are used as a means of defence against a new experience. That is, you have an experience, and you think you have learned something from it. What you have learned is to be careful, not to be caught in sorrow again. So through each experience you develop certain layers of memories which act as barriers between the mind and the movement of life. Ideals and memories, with all their significance, prevent each one from living completely in action, in experience. Instead of living with experience completely, with your whole being, you bring forward all your prejudices of ideals, self-protective moralities and memories, and these prevent fulfilment. There is no fulfilment, there is ever the fear of death, and the thought of the hereafter. So gradually the present, the living movement of life, loses all its beauty and significance, and there is only emptiness and fear. If there is to be true fulfilment, mind must be free from ideals and memories, with all their significance. Through the desire for security, these memories and ideals become the means of compulsion. Where there is security there cannot he fulfilment. Question: You have often said, "Perceive and understand the full significance of environment." Does this necessarily mean action coming into conflict with environment? Or is it mere perception, without any dynamic expression in action? Krishnamurti: How can one truly discern if there is not action? There cannot be an intellectual discernment. There is either deep understanding or the creation of mere theory. If you desire to understand environment, not only the objective but the subjective which is so infinitely subtle, then you must individually come into conflict with it. It is only in conflict, in suffering, that you, the individual, begin to discern the true significance of values; and as most people are afraid to come into contact with suffering, they would rather intellectually perceive their significance. So they leave the responsibility of action to the mass, that vague and unreal entity, which they hope will miraculously alter their environment. and so bring happiness to them. To understand deeply the subtle significance of environment, you, the individual, must become conscious and break away from those limiting conditions, whether they are social, religious or traditional. Truth, the beauty of reality, can be discerned only when the mind is fearless; not with the fearlessness of intellectuality, but of utter insecurity. You can know, of this only through action. Question: Is it of any value to pray to the Great Intelligences for help in our daily life? Krishnamurti: None whatever. I will explain what I mean. What causes misery, conflict, suffering in our daily life? Traditions, selfish moral values, impositions of vested interest, attachment, acquisitiveness: these create conditions which prevent human happiness. And what is the use of praying to someone when you, through your own intelligence, can alter all this awful mess? Being unwilling to face suffering, we try to escape through prayer. You may escape momentarily, but the strength of your desire asserts itself again, plunging the mind into misery and confusion. So what matters is, not whether it is of value to pray, but to awaken that intelligence which alone will solve our human miseries. A mind and a heart that are hardened, that have limited themselves through their egotistic fears, pray. But if there were love, then you would free the mind from its own egotistic fears, and this alone can bring about intelligence and happy order. Question: Doesn't love freed from possessiveness lead to the cessation of reproduction and therefore to the extinction of mankind? As this seems to be unintelligent, is it not the outcome of a belief? Krishnamurti: Before we can say it is the outcome of belief and so unintelligent, we must understand what our present love is. It is nothing but possessiveness, except in those rare moments when the perfume of love is known. To control, to possess, we have certain laws which we call moral. To me, where there is possessiveness there cannot be love. Without being aware of all its subtle impositions and cruelties, you say, "If we freed ourselves from possessiveness, wouldn't we get rid altogether of love?" To find out if you would, you must experiment, you cannot merely assert. Let the mind wholly free itself from attachment, possessiveness; then you will know. It is when we have lost love through possessiveness that we have sexual problems; we want to solve them separately, apart from the rest of man's problems and difficulties. You cannot isolate a human problem and solve it singly, exclusively. To understand deeply the problem of sex and dissolve its difficulties, we must know where we are being frustrated, dominated. Through economic conditions the individual is turned into a machine, and his work is not fulfilment but compulsion. Where there should he the release of self-expression through work, there is frustration; and where there should be deep, complete thought, there is fear, imposition, imitation. So the problem of sex becomes all consuming and intricate. We think we can solve it exclusively, but this is not possible. When work becomes true expression and when there is no longer the desire, through fear, to cling to beliefs, traditions, ideals and religions, then there is the exquisite reality of love. Where there is love there is no sense of possession; attachment indicates deep frustration. Question: Have we to better the order of things created by God himself? Krishnamurti: That is the attitude of an exploiter. He wants to let things remain as they are, finding himself on the safe side. But ask the man who is in suffering, ask the man who lives in tattered clothes in a hovel; then you will know whether things should be left as they are. Both the poor and the rich want things to remain as they are; the poor are afraid of losing the little that they have, and the rich of losing all that they have. So when there is the fear of loss, of being made uncertain, there comes the desire not to interfere with the order of things which God or nature has created. To bring about happy, human order, there must be within each one of you a deep, fundamental change. Where there is a continual adaptation to the movement of life, truth, there is never fear. Each one of you must feel the poison of compulsion, authority and imitation. Each one must feel the immense necessity, through his own suffering, for a complete and radical change of thought and desire, free from the subtle search for substitution. Then there will be the true fulfilment of man. Question: If sorrow is necessary for the purification of our souls, why do away with sorrow through the understanding of its cause? Krishnamurti: Sorrow does not purify. Why is there sorrow? When the mind is stagnant, drugged to sleep by beliefs, crippled by limitations, and is awakened by the movement of life, that awakening we call suffering. Where there is the disturbance of our security through the action of life, that we call suffering. Instead of seeing that suffering is a hindrance, we try to utilize it to get some other result. Through an illusion you cannot come to reality. Now sorrow is but the indication of limitation, of incompleteness. When one discerns the impediment of sorrow, one cannot make of it a means of purification. You must be rid of its limitation. You must understand the cause and its effects. If you use it as a means of purification, you are subtly deriving from it security, comfort. This only creates further hindrances, impeding the awakening of intelligence. Out of these many hindrances, these self-defensive memories is born the limited consciousness, the "I", which is the true cause of suffering. Question: Don't you think it is practically impossible for your lofty ideas and conceptions to germinate in brains degenerated by vices and disease? Krishnamurti: Of course, that is obvious. But vice is a cultivated habit, a means of escape, generally, from life, from intelligence. Take the question of drink. The vested interest sells liquor, and the governments support it. Then you form temperance societies and religious organizations to awaken man to the cruelty and stupidity of alcoholism. On one side you have the vested interest, and on the other the reformer; and the victim becomes the plaything of both. If you want to help man, which is yourself, then you will see to it that you are not exploited through your own stupidity. This demands discernment of existing values and perceiving their true significance. Because of illusion, stupidity, man is exploited by man. After surrounding ourselves with so many limitations which prevent human happiness, kindliness, love, we think that we are going to be rid of them by seeking further substitutions. Through your acquisitiveness, through your fear, you are creating illusions. and in that net you are entangling your neighbour also. Question: What is to be understood by God? Is he a personal Being who guides the universe, or is God a cosmic Principle? Krishnamurti: May I ask why you want to know? Either you desire to be strengthened further in your beliefs, or you are seeking from me a means of escape from sorrow and conflict. If you are asking for confirmation, then there is doubt, which must not be allayed, You never ask another whether you are in love. And if anyone were to describe reality, it would no longer be real. How can you describe to one who has not known it, what it is to be in love? Now I say there is a reality; it cannot be measured by words. You cannot be aware of that reality if there is fear, if there are limitations that destroy the delicate pliability of the mind and heart. So instead of inquiring what God is, find out whether your mind and heart are enslaved by fear which creates illusion and limitation. When the mind and heart free themselves from those self-imposed projections, then in fulfilment there is the understanding of that which is. Question: In some of your earlier talks, you have said that conflict exists only between the false and the false, never between the real and the false. Will you please explain this. Krishnamurti: There cannot be a struggle between light and darkness. Illusion gives rise to conflict, not between itself and reality, but with its own creations. There is never conflict between intelligence and stupidity. Question: Please explain the meaning of pure action. Does it come about when life expresses itself through the liberated individual? Krishnamurti: Let us for the moment leave aside the liberated individual, and understand what we call action. With certain limitations and prejudices the mind-heart meets life or experience. In this contact between the dead and the living, there is action. Desire is seeking fulfilment. In its realization, in its action there is pain and pleasure, and the mind records them. In the expression of other desires there is again pain and pleasure, and again the mind stores them. Thus the mind becomes the storehouse of memories. These memories are acting as warnings. So action becomes more and more controlled and directed by these memories, based on pain and pleasure, on self-defence. Action, because it is born out of self-protective memories and desires, is continually creating restrictions, limitations. There is the action of self-defensive memories, and an action which is free from this centre of self-imposed limitation. Question: Do you hold back from the public something of what you know? Krishnamurti: There is in most people a desire to be exclusive, to separate themselves from others through knowledge, through titles, through possessions. This form of seclusion gives strength to their self-importance, to their small vanities. Our society, both the temporal and the so-called spiritual, is based on this hierarchical exclusiveness. To yield to this separativeness creates the many gross and subtle forms of exploitation. I have no secret teachings for the few. Naturally there are those who desire to go more deeply into what I say; but if they become exclusive and create a secret body, they are being encouraged to do so by their own desire to be exclusive. Question: Do you believe in God? Krishnamurti: Either you put this question out of curiosity to find out what I think, or you want to discover if there is God. If you are merely curious, naturally there is no answer; but if you want to find out for yourself if there is God, then you must approach this inquiry without prejudice; you must come to it with a fresh mind, neither believing nor disbelieving. If I said there is, you would accept it as a belief, and you would add that belief to the already existing dead beliefs. Or, if I said no, it would merely become a convenient support to the unbeliever. If a man is truly desirous to know, let him not seek reality, life, God, which will only be an escape from sorrow, from conflict; but let him understand the very cause of sorrow, conflict, and when the mind is liberated from it, he shall know. When the mind is vulnerable, when it has lost all support, explanations. when it is naked, then it shall know the bliss of truth. September 7, 1935 SANTIAGO 3RD PUBLIC TALK 8TH SEPTEMBER, 1935 Question: What have you to say about the treatment of criminals? Krishnamurti: Now it all depends upon whom you call a criminal. A pathological person is not a criminal, and it is folly to put him in a prison. He needs medical attention and care. A person who deliberately steals is generally called a criminal. Unless he is a pathological case, he steals because there is for him an insufficiency of the necessities of life. So what is the sense of turning him into a criminal by throwing him into prison? He is the result of cruel absurd and exploiting economic conditions. He is not the real culprit, but the whole system of acquisitiveness which creates the exploiter. There is yet another type of man who also is called a criminal; his ideas, being true, become dangerous, and you get rid of him by sending him to prison or by killing him. Through one's own action one either creates conditions which produce the so-called criminal, or destroys those limitations which create sorrow. Question: It is being said that you are an Agent of the British Government, and that your talk against nationalism is part of a vast plan of propaganda directed towards keeping India within and subject to the British Empire. Is this true? Krishnamurti: I am afraid this is not true. It is rather absurd to be told, when one says what one thinks, that one is an agent for some cause or country. (Laughter) To me, nationalism, whether in Chile, England or India, is destructive. It separates human beings, causes many evils. Nationalism is an ugly disease; and when I say this, those people from other countries who have vested interests here or in any country not their own are very much in agreement with it; and those for whom nationalism is a means of exploiting their own people are very much opposed to it. Nationalism is, after all, a false sentiment, stimulated by vested interests and used for imperialism and war. Question: Is not what you say against nationalism detrimental to the welfare of the smaller nations? How can we in Chile hope to uphold our national integrity and wellbeing unless we feel intensely nationalistic and defend ourselves against the larger nations who seek to control and dominate us? Krishnamurti: When you talk about upholding your national integrity and well-being, you mean developing your own particular class of exploiters. (Laughter) Do not think in terms of Chile or any other country, but think of humanity as a whole. Yesterday I was walking in the country, and there was a lovely sunset. The mountains and the snow were aglow, clear, beautiful. A labourer, literally in rags, passed by. Some have money to live comfortably and enjoy the luxury and the beauty of life; others have to work from morning till night, from a tender age until they die, without leisure, without hope. We allow in every country all this cruelty and horror. We have lost our delicate feelings, we are frustrated and are destroying ourselves through fear and acquisitiveness. Surely, to abolish poverty, you must think as human beings, not as nationals. There can only be humanity, and not the cruel division of races and the childish absurdity of nationalism. Why cannot this happy and intelligent state be brought about? Who is preventing it? Each one of you, because you think in terms of Chile, England, India or some other country. As beliefs divide people, so you have let frontiers destroy the unity of man. It rests with you, not with a vague thing called the mass, to bring about human unity and happiness. Question: You apparently believe that all priests are scoundrels. (Laughter) In the Catholic Church there are many great and saintly men. Do you call these also exploiters? Krishnamurti: Through fear one creates authority; and yielding to it must bring about exploitation. So each one, through fear, creates exploiters. By your own desires and fears you have created religions, with their dogmas, creeds, and all their pageantry and show. Religions as organized beliefs, with their vested interest, do not lead man to reality. They have become engines of exploitation. (Applause) But you are responsible for their existence. Mind must be free from those illusions which fear has created, those illusions that now appear as reality; and when the mind is simple, direct, capable of thinking truly, then it will not create exploiters. Question: Your teaching concerning the family seems to be heartless and cold. Is not the family a most natural outcome of affection between human beings? Why then are you against it? Krishnamurti: What is the family now? It is based on possessiveness, which destroys love. Where there is a sense of possession, there must be exploitation. Where there is love, there is no imposition or possessiveness. But if you consider our present morality, you will see that it is based on maintaining this possessive attitude towards life. By our egotistic craving we are destroying the perfume and the beauty of life. Where there is love, family does not become a centre of exploitation. Question: If one lives free of such vices as the use of alcohol and tobacco and follows a strictly vegetarian diet, can this not be a great factor in helping one to understand your teachings? Krishnamurti: Please. it is not what you put into your mouth that gives you understanding. (Laughter) What gives you understanding is facing life directly, simply and truly. But by merely giving up meat, alcohol or tobacco you are not going to understand reality. A great many people have given up these things, hoping for happiness. Fulfilment lies not in giving up but in understanding. Mind cannot be a slave to fear and to illusions. Discover first the impediments, the limitations which cripple the mind and heart, and when you liberate yourself from them, then there will be intelligent and natural existence. Question: How can there possibly be individual well-being until there is a mass movement to remove the capitalistic exploiters from power? Surely the mass movement must come first in order to clear the way for the underdog, and only then will there be an equal opportunity for all. Krishnamurti: Now, to put one or the other first, individual well- being or collective action, must ultimately hinder man's fulfilment, True fulfilment brings about the welfare of the whole as well as of the individual. What is it that we call the mass? It is you. There cannot be true collective action without individual comprehension. The mass movement is really the result of clear thought and action on the part of every individual. If each one of you merely says that there ought to be collective action, then such action will never take place, because you are merely avoiding your individual responsibility of action. When a man relies on the action of the mass, he himself is truly afraid to act. If there is to be a radical, complete change, you, the individual, must awaken to the limitations that now cripple your mind and heart. In liberating yourself from those egotistic, illusory hopes, ambitions and cruelties, there will be intelligent co-operation and not compulsion and exploitation. Question: I have a friend who is mediumistic. When she goes into a trance, many great spirits talk through her, including Napoleon, Plato and Jesus, and their advice is very helpful in the spiritual life. Why do you not speak about the value of spiritualism and mediumship? Krishnamurti: I have been talking about authority and its destructive influence upon intelligence, whether it be the authority of the living or of the dead. It does not become any the holier because it is of the past or of the dead. Authority, compulsion, destroys fulfilment, whether it is exercised by religion, by society or by mediums. What is behind this desire for guidance? One is afraid that by one's own act one will be caught up in suffering; so, in order to avoid it - in fact, not to live - one says, "I must follow, I must be guided." There is the movement of truth only when the mind is no longer held by fear, with all its illusions, when it is no longer seeking guidance or being guided. This aloneness is not exclusiveness; it comes into being when there is the discernment of the false. Question: You say that spiritual organizations are useless. Is this true for all people, or only for those persons who have gone beyond the spiritual level of mankind in general? Krishnamurti: When you think that what I say is applicable only to the few, you make of me an exploiter. You think that another needs the falseness, the illusions of organized belief. If it is false, if it is unspiritual for you, then it is unspiritual and false for all. There is no relative stupidity. Because we do not desire to think directly and clearly, we pacify ourselves by saying that intelligence is a matter of slow growth. For example, acquisitiveness, if you really think about it profoundly, is a poison in itself. But if you thought about it deeply, it would involve action and suffering, so you say that freedom from acquisitiveness is progressive, relative, to be realized by degrees. In other words, you are not at all sure that acquisitiveness is a poison. In the same way, you are not at all sure that religions, sects are inherently stupid. If a thing is false, it is false for everyone, under all circumstances. Question: If the idea of individual immortality is false, what is the purpose of individual existence? Krishnamurti: To understand this problem of individual immortality you must come to it without any bias. The very craving for immortality prevents its deep comprehension. To understand this deeply, mind must have the power of complete discernment, not choice based on identification. Our cravings are so strong, our egotistic self-protective impulses are so vital, that our very want blinds us. Where there is craving there cannot be discernment. True culture is action for its own beauty, without seeking reward. When you say "I", what do you mean by that? You mean the form, the name, certain unfulfilled desires, qualities and defensive reactions which you call virtue; all these make up that limited consciousness which we call the "I". The mind has enclosed itself within the many walls of illusion and limitation, and the many layers of memories cause frustration. What you are trying to do is to immortalize this frustration which is the "I". There cannot be immortality for illusion. Life is eternal, ever becoming. To discern this deeply, mind must liberate itself from all the impediments that cause frustration. By being fully aware, all the hidden, secret desires, fears and pursuits come into consciousness; then only can there be true freedom from them. Then there is reality. Question: I have a daughter who was formerly very studious and loved her music, but now she does nothing but read your books. What do you advise her mother to do? (Laughter) Krishnamurti: I wonder why your daughter has given up her music? It may be because she has discovered that it was not her deep fulfilment, and she is trying to find her true expression. But if she merely reads what I have said, without the fullness of action, then my words will become a hindrance. We often think that living according to a certain idea will awaken intelligence. What really awakens intelligence is action without the fear of not adjusting oneself to a standard or an ideal. This demands great awareness and pliability of mind. Question: Have you attained to what you are in this life, through a series of past lives? Krishnamurti: You are asking me if one can understand truth, life or God through accumulation of experience. Experience has merely taught us to be cunningly self-protective, to create defences against the movement of life. In this enclosure the mind takes shelter, guarding itself more and more against the continual becoming of life, These defensive barriers divide the movement of life into the past, the present and the future. It is this division that destroys the continuity of life as a whole. From this there arises fear, which is covered over by illusions, hopes. So long as the mind-heart is caught up in this division there cannot be the understanding of truth; for then experience merely becomes a source of conflict and sorrow, whereas it should wear down these self-protective barriers and so liberate the mind and heart to the movement of life. September 8, 1935 MEXICO CITY 1ST PUBLIC TALK 20TH OCTOBER, 1935 Friends, As many incorrect statements have been made in the newspapers concerning me, I wish to correct them before I proceed with my talk. I am not a Theosophist. I do not belong to any sect or party or to any particular religion, for religion is a distinct hindrance to man's fulfilment. Nor do I desire to convert you to some fantastic theories and conclusions. Now you may ask, "What is it that you want to do? If you don't want us to join any society or accept certain theories, what is it then that you want to do?" What I want to do is to help you, the individual, to cross the stream of suffering, confusion and conflict, through deep and complete fulfilment. This fulfilment does not lie through egotistic self-expression, nor through compulsion and imitation. Not through some fantastic sentiment and conclusions, but through clear thinking, through intelligent action, we shall cross this stream of pain and sorrow. There is a reality which can be understood only through deep and true fulfilment. Before we can understand the richness and the beauty of fulfilment, mind must free itself from the background of tradition, habit and prejudice. For example, if you belong to a particular political party, you naturally regard all your political considerations from the narrow, limited point of view of that party. If you have been brought up, nursed, conditioned in a certain religion, you look at life through its veil of prejudice and darkness. That background of tradition prevents the complete understanding of life, and so causes confusion and suffering. I would beg of you to listen to what I have to say, freeing yourself for this hour at least from the background in which you have been brought up, with its traditions and prejudices, and think simply and directly about the many human problems. To be truly critical is not to be in opposition. Most of us have been trained to oppose and not to criticize. When a man merely opposes, it generally indicates that he has some vested interest which he desires to protect, and that is not deep penetration through critical examination. True criticism lies in trying to understand the full significance of values without the hindrance of defensive reactions. We see throughout the world extremes of poverty and riches, abundance and at the same time starvation; we have class distinction and racial hatred, the stupidity of nationalism and the appalling cruelty of war. There is exploitation of man by man; religions with their vested interests have become the means of exploitation, also dividing man from man. There is anxiety, confusion, hopelessness, frustration. We see all this. It is part of our daily life. Caught up in the wheel of suffering, if you are at all thoughtful you must have asked yourself how these human problems can be solved. Either you are conscious of the chaotic state of the world, or you are completely asleep, living in a fantastic world, in an illusion. If you are aware, you must be grappling with these problems. In trying to solve them, some turn to experts for their solution, and follow their ideas and theories. Gradually they form themselves into an exclusive body, and thus they come into conflict with other experts and their parties; and the individual merely becomes a tool in the hands of the group or of the expert. Or you try to solve these problems by following a particular system, which, if you carefully examine it, becomes merely another means of exploiting the individual. Or you think that to change all this cruelty and horror, there must be a mass movement, a collective action. Now the idea of a mass movement becomes merely a catchword if you, the individual, who are part of the mass, do not understand your true function. True collective action can take place only when you, the individual, who are also the mass, are awake and take the full responsibility for your action without compulsion. Please bear in mind that I am not giving you a system of philosophy which you can follow blindly, but I am trying to awaken the desire for true and intelligent fulfilment, which alone can bring about happy order and peace in the world. There can be fundamental and lasting change in the world, there can be love and intelligent fulfilment, only when you wake up and begin to free yourself from the net of illusions, the many illusions which you have created about yourself through fear. When the mind frees itself from these hindrances, when there is that deep, inward, voluntary change, then only can there be true, lasting, collective action, in which there can be no compulsion. Please understand that I am talking to you as an individual, not to a collective group or to a particular party. If you do not awaken to your full responsibility, to your fulfilment, then your function as a human being in society must be frustrated, limited, and in that lies sorrow. So the question is, How can there be this profound individual revolution? If there is this true, voluntary revolution on the part of the individual, then you will create the right environment for all without the distinction of class or race. Then the world will be a single human unit. How are you going to awaken as individuals to this profound revolution? Now what I am going to say is not complicated, it is simple; and because of its very simplicity, I am afraid you will reject it as not being positive. What you call positive is to be given a definite plan, to be told exactly what to do. But if you can understand for yourself what are the hindrances that are preventing your deep and true fulfilment, then you will not become a mere follower and be exploited. All following is detrimental to completeness. To have this profound revolution, you must become fully conscious of the structure which you have created about yourself and in which you are now caught. That is, we have now certain values, ideals, beliefs, which act as a net to hold the mind, and by questioning and understanding all their significance, we shall realize how they have come into existence. Before you can act fully and truly, you must know the prison in which you are living, how it has been created; and in examining it without any self-defence. you will find out for yourself its true significance, which no other can convey to you. Through your own awakening of intelligence, through your own suffering you will discover the manner of true fulfilment. Each one of us is seeking security, certainty, through egotistic thought and action, objectively and subjectively. If you are conscious of your own thought, you will see that you are pursuing your own egotistic certainty and security, both outwardly and inwardly. In reality, there is no such absolute division of life as the objective and the subjective world. I make this division only for convenience. Objectively, this search for egotistic security and certainty expresses itself through family, which becomes a centre of exploitation, based on acquisitiveness. If you examine it, you will see that what you call the love of family is nothing but possessiveness. That search for security again expresses itself through class divisions which develop into the stupidity of nationalism and imperialism, breeding hatred, racial antagonism and the ultimate cruelty of war. So through our own egotistic desires we have created a world of nationalities and conflicting sovereign governments, whose function is to prepare for war and force man against man. Then there is the search for egotistic security, certainty, through what we call religion. You like fondly to believe that divine beings have created these organized forms of belief which we call religions. You yourself have created them for your own convenience; through ages they have become sanctified, and you have now become enslaved to them. There can never be ideal religions, so let us not waste our time discussing them. They can exist only in theory, not in reality. Let us examine how we have created religions and in what manner we are enslaved to them. If you deeply examine them as they are, you will see that they are nothing but the vested interest of organized belief, holding, separating and exploiting man. As you are objectively seeking security, so also you are seeking subjectively a different kind of security, certainty. which you call immortality. You crave for egotistic continuance in the hereafter. calling it immortality. Later in my talks I will explain what to me is true immortality. In your search for that security, fear is born, and so you submit yourself to another who promises you that immortality. Through fear you create a spiritual authority, and to administer that authority there are priests who exploit you through belief, dogma and creed, through show, pomp and pageantry, which throughout the world is called religion. It is essentially based on fear, though you may call it the love of God or truth; it is, if you examine it intelligently, nothing but the result of fear, and therefore it must become one of the means of exploiting man. Through your own desire for immortality, for selfish continuance, you have built this illusion which you call religion, and you are unconsciously or consciously caught in it. Or you may not belong to any particular religion, but you may belong to some sect which subtly promises a reward, a subtle inflation of the ego in the hereafter. Or you may not belong to any society or sect, but there may be an inward desire, hidden and concealed, to seek your own immortality. So long as there is a desire for self-continuance in any form, there must be fear, which but creates authority, and from this there comes the subtle cruelty and stupidity of submitting oneself to exploitation. This exploitation is so subtle, so refined that one becomes enamoured of it, calling it spiritual progress and advancement toward perfection. Now you, the individual, must become conscious of all this intricate structure, conscious of the source of fear, and be willing to eradicate it, whatever be the consequence. This means coming into conflict individually with the existing ideals and values; and when the mind frees itself from the false, there can be the creation of right environment for the whole. Your first concern is to become conscious of the prison; then you will see that your own thought is continually trying to avoid coming into conflict with the values of the prison. This escape creates ideals which, however beautiful, are but illusions. It is one of the tricks of the mind to escape into an ideal, because if it does not escape, it must come directly into conflict with the prison, with the environment. That is, the mind wants to escape into an illusion rather than face the suffering which will inevitably arise when it begins to question the values, the morality, the religion of the prison. So what matters is to come into conflict with the traditions and values of the society and religion in which you are caught, and not intellectually escape through an ideal. When you begin to question these values, you begin to awaken that true intelligence which alone can solve the many human problems. As long as the mind is caught up in false values, there cannot be fulfilment. Completeness alone will reveal truth, the movement of eternal life. October 20, 1935 MEXICO CITY 2ND PUBLIC TALK 27TH OCTOBER, 1935 Friends, Everyone desires to be happy, to be complete and to fulfil; to fulfil in order that there may be no emptiness, no void, but a deep richness of continual sufficiency. One calls this the search for truth or God, or gives some other name to it to convey the deep desire for reality. Now this desire, for most people, becomes merely an escape, a flight from the actuality of conflict. There is so much suffering and confusion in and about us that we seek a supposed reality as a means of flight from the present. For most people, what they call reality or God or happiness is merely an escape from suffering, from this continual tension between action and understanding. Each one tries to find an escape from this conflict through some kind of illusion which is offered by religions or by various so-called spiritual societies and sects; or he seeks to lose himself in some kind of activity. Now if you carefully examine what these societies offer -organized, as they are, around a belief, as are all religions and sects - you will find that they give security, comfort, through a saviour or a Master, through guides, through following certain systems of thought, ideals and modes of conduct. All these modes of conduct, systems, assure a subtle form of egotistic security, self-defence against life, against the confusion created by thoughtlessness. As we cannot understand life with its swift movement, we look to systems to help us out, and these we call modes of conduct or patterns of behaviour. So, being afraid of confusion and sorrow, you create for yourselves an authority that assures you of safety and security against the flow of reality. Take, for example, the desire to follow an ideal or a mode of conduct. Now why is there the need to follow an ideal, a principle or a pattern of behaviour? You say that you need an ideal because there is so much confusion in and about you; that this ideal will act as a guide, as a directive force to help you across this confusion, uncertainty and turmoil. In order not to be caught in this suffering, you subtly escape through an ideal, which you call living nobly. That is, you do not want to confront and understand the confusion itself, and you do not desire to comprehend the causes of conflict; your only concern is to avoid sorrow. So ideals, modes of conduct, offer a convenient escape from actuality. In the same way, if you examine your search for guides and saviours, there is in it a subtle and hidden desire to run away from suffering. When you talk about seeking truth, reality, you are really seeking complete self-protection, either here or in the hereafter. You are moulding yourself after a pattern that guarantees you against suffering. This pattern, this mould, you call morality, creed, belief. Now all this indicates that there is a deep, hidden fear of life, which must naturally create authority. So where there is authority in the form of an ideal, a mode of conduct, or a person, there must be egotistic craving for protection and security. In this there is not a spark of reality. Thus your actions, shaped and controlled by ideals, are always made incomplete, for they are based upon defensive reaction against intelligence, life. In following an ideal or a mode of conduct, or submitting oneself to a particular authority. either of religion, of a sect or of society, there cannot be true fulfilment; and only through fulfilment is there the bliss of truth. As what we call our morality and ideals is based on self-defensive reactions against life, we are unconscious of them as impediments, as barriers which separate us from the movement of life. Complete fulfilment exists only when these self-protective barriers have been wholly dissipated by our own effort and intelligence. If you would know the bliss of truth, you must become fully aware of these self-defensive barriers, and dissipate them through your own voluntary decision. This demands steady and continuous effort. Most people are not willing to make that effort. They would rather be told exactly what to do. they would rather be like machines, acting in the grooves of religious superstition and habit. You must examine these defensive barriers of ideals and morality and come directly into conflict with them. Until you as an individual voluntarily free yourself from these illusions, there cannot be the comprehension of truth. In dissolving these illusions of self-protection, the mind awakens to reality and its ecstasy. Question: Is it possible to know Cod? Krishnamurti: To speculate and intellectually draw conclusions as to whether God exists or not has to me no deep significance. You can know whether there is God or not, only with your whole being, not with one part of your being, the intellect. You have already a fixed belief either that there is God, or that there is not. If you approach this question either with a belief or with non-belief, you cannot discover reality, for your mind is already prejudiced. You can discover whether there is or there is not God only by destroying these self-protective barriers and being completely vulnerable to life, wholly naked. This involves suffering, which alone can awaken intelligence from which is born true discernment. So what value has it if I tell you that there is or that there is not God? The various religions and sects throughout the world are filled with dead beliefs; and when you ask me whether I believe in God or not, you only want me to add another dead belief to the museum. To discover. you must come into conflict with the various illusions of which you are now unconscious; and in that conflict, without any escape through an ideal, through authority or the worship of another, there will be born the discernment of reality. Question: Are you or are you not a member of the Theosophical Society? Krishnamurti: I do not belong to any society or sect or party. I do not belong to any religion, for organized belief is a great impediment, dividing man against man and destroying his intelligence. These societies and religions are fundamentally based on vested interests and exploitation. Question: How can I be free of sexual desire, which prevents me from leading the spiritual life? Krishnamurti: For most people. life is not fulfilment but continued frustration. Our occupation is merely a means of earning a livelihood. In it there is no love, but only compulsion and frustration. So your work, which should be your true expression, is merely an adjustment to a pattern, and in this there is incompleteness. Your thoughts and emotions are limited and thwarted by fear, and so action brings about its own frustration. If you really observe your own life, you will see that society on the one hand, and the whole religious structure on the other, is forcing, compelling you to shape your thoughts and actions after a pattern based on self-protection and fear. So where there is continual frustration, naturally the problem of sex becomes overwhelming. Until the mind and heart are no longer slaves to environment, that is, until they have discerned the false in it through action, sex will be an increasing and overpowering problem. To treat it as unspiritual is absurd. Most people are caught up in this problem, and to solve it truly, you must disentangle your creative thought and emotion from the impositions of religion and the stupid morality of society. (Applause) Through its own effort the mind must disentangle itself from the net of false values which society and religion have imposed upon it. Then there is true fulfilment, in which there are no problems. Question: Will you tell us how to communicate with the spirits of the dead? How can we be sure that we are not deceived? Krishnamurti: You know, it is becoming throughout the world a craze to communicate with the dead. It is a new kind of sensation, a new toy. Why do you want to communicate with the dead? Is it not because you want to be guided? Again you want to defend yourself against life, and you think a person being dead has become more wise and so able to guide you. To you the dead are more important than the living. What matters is, not whether you can communicate with the dead, but that you shall fulfil, without fear, completely and intelligently. To understand life deeply and fully, there must be no fear either of the present or of the hereafter. If you do not penetrate the present environment through your own capacity and intelligence, you will naturally escape into the hereafter or seek guidance and so avoid the beauty of life. Because this environment is restrictive, exploiting, cruel, you find a release in the hereafter, in the search for guides, Masters and saviours. Until you act completely with regard to all the human problems, you will have various fears and subtle escapes. Where there is fear there must be illusion and ignorance. Fear can be eradicated only through your own effort and intelligence. Question: I gather that you are preaching the exaltation of the individual and that you are against the mass. How can individualism be conducive to co-operation and brotherhood? Krishnamurti: I am not doing anything of the kind. I am not preaching individualism at all. I am saying that there can be true cooperation only when there is intelligence; but to awaken that intelligence, every individual must be responsible for his effort and action. There cannot be a true mass movement if each one of you is still held in the prison of selfish defences. How can there be collective action for the welfare of the whole if each one of you is secretly acquisitive, defending himself and so fearing his neighbour, classifying himself as belonging to a particular religion or belief, or smitten with the disease of nationalism? How can there be intelligent co-operation when you have these secret prejudices and desires? To bring about intelligent action, it must begin with you, individually. Merely to create a mass movement involves exploitation and cruelty. When you, the individual, realize the stupidity and the cruelty of the interrelated social and religious environment, then through your intelligence will it be possible to create collective action without exploitation. So the important thing is not the exaltation of the individual or the mass, but the awakening of that intelligence which alone can bring about the true welfare of man. Question: Will I reincarnate on earth in a future life? Krishnamurti: I will explain briefly what is generally meant by reincarnation. The idea is that there is a gap, a division between man and reality, and this division is one of time and of understanding. To arrive at perfection, God or truth, you must go through various experiences till you have accumulated sufficient knowledge, equivalent to reality. This division between ignorance and wisdom is to be bridged only through constant accumulation, learning, which goes on life after life till you arrive at perfection. You who are imperfect now, shall become perfect; for that you must have time and opportunity, which necessitates rebirth. This, briefly, is the theory of reincarnation. When you talk about the "I", what do you mean by it? You mean the name, the form, certain virtues, idiosyncrasies, prejudices, memories. In other words, the "I" is nothing but many layers of memories, the result of frustration, the limitation of action by environment, which cause incompleteness and sorrow. These many layers of memories, frustrations, become the limited consciousness which you call the "I". So you think that the "I" is to go on through time, becoming more and more perfect. But since that "I" is merely the result of frustration, how can it become perfect? The "I", being a limitation, cannot become perfect. It must ever remain a limitation. The mind must free itself from the cause of frustration now, for wisdom lies ever in the present. Understanding is not to be gained in a future. Please, this needs careful thought. You want me to give you an assurance that you will live another life, but in that there is no happiness or wisdom. The search for immortality through reincarnation is essentially egotistic, and therefore not true. Your search for immortality is only another form of the desire for the continuance of self-defensive reactions against life and intelligence. Such a craving can only lead to illusion. So what matters is, not whether there is reincarnation, but to realize complete fulfilment in the present. And you can do that only when your mind and heart are no longer protecting themselves against life. The mind is cunning and subtle in its self-defence, and it must discern for itself the illusory nature of self-protection. This means that you must think and act completely anew. You must liberate yourself from the net of false values which environment has imposed upon you. There must be utter nakedness. Then there is immortality, reality. October 27, 1935 MEXICO CITY 3RD PUBLIC TALK 30TH OCTOBER, 1935 Friends, Most people have accepted the idea that man is something more than the mere result of environment. I mean by environment, not only the social and religious background, but also the past. That man is something more than this is especially accepted by those who call themselves religious, spiritual people. The majority of you have accepted this idea. if you carefully examine it, on the authority of another; or it is dictated to you by your own hope or longing, which you call intuition. You have not discovered for yourselves whether you are something more than merely social entities. Seeing that life around you is stifling, sorrowful, you crave for happiness and submit yourselves to a particular mode of conduct which is based on self protection. You believe that man is more than mere matter because teachers have proclaimed it and many religions and sects have maintained it throughout the ages. But if you strip your mind of these authorities and illusions created through hope, you will inevitably come to the conclusion that there is no deep certainty within you concerning this matter. Then there are those who say that man is nothing but the result of environment. They say that to change man, environment must be wholly controlled and man must be subjugated to it, so that there can be the certainty of his happiness. There is the religious idea which conceives of lasting happiness only in the hereafter, which says that you can never find happiness here. From this there are developed beliefs, creeds, dogmas, saviours and Masters, to lead you to that lasting happiness. Thus we have innumerable escapes through which man is exploited. So you have two diametrically opposed ideas concerning man, at least they seem to be, but fundamentally they are not. One maintains that man is mere clay to be conditioned by intelligent environment, and the other, that he can be truly intelligent only in the hereafter by conditioning himself through certain beliefs. Some maintain that man can be made intelligent through law, by controlling environment; and religions, through threat and fear, promise divine happiness in the hereafter if man conditions himself to certain beliefs and dogmas. If you examine both ideas, they have a common attitude towards man: one says that he must be controlled by the law of the state, and the other that he must be dominated through punishment and reward in the hereafter. The religious and the non-religious, though they hate each other, are fundamentally alike, for they both believe in conditioning and controlling man. This is what has happened and what is now taking place. In both there is this fundamental idea of dominating, compelling, forcing man to a certain pattern. With this compulsion there can be no true fulfilment. There can be creative intelligence and happiness only when there is no compulsion, when you act voluntarily, without fear. To know creative action, without this continual, limiting compulsion, you must become conscious of the innumerable impositions that are placed upon you, and which you have created in search of your own egotistic security through society and religion. In voluntarily freeing yourself from these egotistic compulsions, there is fulfilment. How can there be fulfilment if there is compulsion and so fear? Fear and compulsion will exist as long as action is based on egotistic expression. When your mind and heart free themselves from those values based on exploitation and religious egotism, then there can be true and intelligent fulfilment. It is only voluntary action that will ever keep society pure and man intelligent. Question: If man is life and life is eternally perfect, why must man pass through experience and sorrow? Krishnamurti: Again this is one of our religious prejudices, that life is eternally perfect. You know nothing about it. All that you know is that life is a continual struggle and pain, and occasionally there is a spark of happiness, beauty and love. The real question is, Must there be continual suffering and what significance has experience? Sorrow is but the indication of a mind and heart held in limitation; the mere escape from sorrow and the search for a remedy does not liberate the mind, does not awaken it to intelligence. Experience becomes limitation and hindrance if the mind uses it as a means of further self-protection. We learn from experiences to protect ourselves, be more cunning, so as not to suffer. The avoidance of sorrow is called knowledge gained from experience. We learn from experiences to guard ourselves against the movement of life. So each experience leaves a self-defensive memory, and with that limitation we live through another perience, adding further walls of self-protection. Thus there is an ever increasing barrier and limitation, and when this comes into contact with the movement of life, there is suffering. When the mind voluntarily frees itself, through understanding, from these self-protective barriers, then there is the flow of reality Question: What should be the ultimate goal of the individual? Krishnamurti: There can never be a goal, a finality, because life is a continual becoming, and that becoming is immortality. But the desire of man is to have something definite and certain to which he can cling and by which he can guide himself. He is continually seeking this through many subtle forms, for be is afraid of being insecure. So he says, "There must be an ultimate objective or goal." There cannot be. You want an ideal to follow because life is so confusing, conflicting, sorrowful, and you say, "I must have something by which I can guide myself, so as not to suffer." If you examine it, this is only a deep desire to escape into an illusion. So your ideal, your goal, your perfection, is simply a means of escape from this turmoil and pain. Question: Is the law of karma, or cause and effect, a fact in nature? Krishnamurti: The Sanskrit word karma signifies action. You can act deeply, fully, only when the mind and heart are not held in limitation. Where there is fear, there must be the creation of illusion, limitation. This limitation creates incompleteness of action and causes suffering. From this suffering the mind seeks an escape through some illusion, ideal, belief, which only creates greater limitation in action and so further sorrow. In this vicious circle the mind is caught. As long as action springs from fear, born of egotism, there must be incompleteness. All action born of a closed mind and heart must create conflict and suffering. As our minds are filled with many frustrations, caused through fear, it is necessary to awaken to those limitations, and the mind must voluntarily free itself from them, through action. Then there is completeness of action, fulfilment. Question: What is your opinion of spiritualism? Krishnamurti: There are many things involved in this desire to know if there is life in the hereafter. Because we have lost someone whom we love greatly, in our sorrow we desire to find out if that person continues to live. But suppose you know that life continues in the hereafter, the question of sorrow is in no way solved. The emptiness, the void is still there, but the momentary happiness of some assurance cannot lastingly cover up our agony. This constant search for consolation makes our life more and more empty, shallow, worthless. Also there is a desire to find what is called a guide, an authority. You want to be guided because you are afraid of life, and so you create exploiters, as in organized religions. So in your search for comfort, consolation, you are destroying yourself, creating emptiness in your mind and heart. Where there is a desire to follow, there is an indication of fear and the creation of self-defences against intelligence, against life, reality. MEXICO CITY 4TH PUBLIC TALK 3RD NOVEMBER, 1935 Question: How can we educate a child to best fit him to attain the fulfilment of which you speak? Krishnamurti: Education is given either to make a child fit into a particular system, pattern, or to awaken intelligence in him so that his life shall be full and complete. If you desire to mould him to a definite system, you must first inquire into its real nature. Boys and girls are being trained to conform to a particular form of thought and action, essentially based on acquisitiveness and fear. Now do you desire your child to fit into this particular mould? If you do not, then you must look at this problem quite differently. That is, you must consider whether a human being is to be forever shaped, controlled, dominated by environment, whether he is to be forever conditioned, limited by fear; or whether, by awakening his intelligence, he is to be helped to break through this environmental limitation to deep fulfilment. If human beings are to fulfil, there must be intense, steady thought and action on your part, because your minds are so influenced, so dominated by authority, that you think children must be imposed upon, must be shaped to fit into a particular pattern of society. When you desire a person to fit into a particular mode of conduct it indicates fear, on which your religions and social morality are based. In this frame there is no fulfilment. Please understand what I mean by individual fulfilment. I do not mean egotistic expression in any form. True fulfilment comes when the mind and heart voluntarily free themselves from those self- defensive values imposed by religion and society. So if you would really help the child to fulfil, you must understand individual fulfilment in society. I cannot now go into details or explain the many subtle ideas that are connected with it; but as long as the mind and heart are forcing themselves to conform to a particular mode of conduct, to a pattern of egotistic self-defence, there must ever be fear, which denies true fulfilment and makes of man an imitative machine. You who are grown up, you have to awaken to the limitations of these self-defensive values, and create the true revolution, not the mere antithesis of authority. Question: Is it your intention to create a world revolution against the existing order? Krishnamurti: Where there is the exercise of authority, there cannot be intelligence. Where there is compulsion, imposition, there must be revolt. Revolution is the result of oppression and of authority. Where there is compulsion, domination in any form, there must be revolt, revolution. After revolution has taken place, there is again established authority, the crystallization of thought and morality. From the imposition of authority to revolution, and from revolution to compulsion once again - this is the vicious circle in which the mind is continually caught. What will break this circle is the understanding of the deep significance of authority itself. We create authority through the desire for comfort and security, for enrichment and protection, not only here but also in the hereafter. Based on this desire there is established a social and religious structure which must oppress and exploit others; and against this, there is the reaction of revolt. If you who are creating compulsion and hence misery for others and for yourself became deeply aware of its poison, then there would not be fear expressing itself through attachment to an ideal, to a belief, to a family, as a means of security. There would then be that constant becoming, that living movement of life, the everlasting. Mere revolution, without the fundamental inquiry into authority, creates a new prison in which your mind and heart will again be caught. A revolution is created by a group. and that group has come into being through individual thought and action. But if the individual is only seeking, consciously or unconsciously, his own security, then there will arise but another group of compulsions and impositions. What truly matters is this constant awareness to free the mind and heart from their own desire to be secure. When the mind is truly free from craving for security, when the mind is truly insecure, then there is the ecstasy of the movement of life, which cannot be known through a mere revolt, a reaction against authority. Question: What is the significance of death? Krishnamurti: We will discover the significance of death by understanding the unhappiness and the agony caused by death. When there is a death, there is an intense shock which we call suffering. You have lost someone whom you love greatly, on whom you have relied, who enriched you. When there is suffering, the indication of poverty of being, we seek a remedy, the remedy which religions offer, the final unity of all human beings, with the many theories concerning it. Then there is the spiritualistic drug, and the comfortable remedy in the idea of reincarnation. We seek innumerable escapes from the agony caused by the death of someone whom we love greatly. These escapes are but subtle ways to lose and forget ourselves. Our concern is not with the dead, but with our own suffering. Only we call it the love of the dead. Now if you do not seek consolation, however subtle it may be, then that very suffering will awaken your true intelligence, which alone will reveal the flow of reality. I am not theorizing; I am telling you what really does take place. Through death you become conscious of your own emptiness, void, loneliness, and this causes pain; and to be free of this agony, you seek remedies, consolations. You are merely seeking opiates to drug your mind. So the mind becomes a slave to ideals, beliefs, and the inquiry into the idea of reincarnation, into the spirit world, only leads to further enslavement. All this indicates poverty of being. To cover it up you seek guides, modes of conduct, systems of thought. But you can never cover it up. However much the mind may try to avoid it or try to escape from that shallowness, it continues to express itself in many ways. It is important that the mind does not escape through any remedy, that it faces wholly its own emptiness. As most of you have not faced it completely, you cannot say that there will be nothingness, further emptiness. You will find out what takes place only after experimenting, living in this manner. In becoming fully conscious you will observe how the mind is ever trying to avoid the deep understanding of the cause of sorrow, and in that full awareness you will truly dissolve the cause. In carefully covering up the cause of emptiness, the subtle and deep egotism, you think that you have solved the problem of death. Suffering is but the indication of a stagnant and attached mind, and instead of realizing this you merely seek another form of drug to put it to sleep again. So our life is a continual awakening, called sorrow, and being put to sleep again. When there is suffering, beware of being put to sleep by comforters with their remedies. When the mind has lost its own egotistic limitation, then there is that movement of life, ever becoming, in which there is no shadow of death. Question: It is clear that organized religion cannot make man perfect, but does it not bring him nearer to God through encouraging a life of virtue and unselfishness? Krishnamurti: Let us be very clear what we mean by religion. For me, organized religions have nothing to do with the sayings of the great teachers. The teachers have said do not kill, love your neighbour, but religions of vested interest encourage and support the slaughter of humanity. (Applause) By encouraging nationalism, supporting a special class, with all its organized belief, religion participates in the killing of man. Religions throughout the world not only exploit through fear, but also separate man from man. Such organized religions cannot in any way aid man in the realization of truth. Now this organized belief which we call religion has been created by us, it hasn't miraculously come into being. We have created it through our desire for security and as a means of self-defence. As we have brought it into being, through our fear, we must through our thought and action free ourselves from its false ideals and values; but if we merely seek further security, it will become another prison to hold the mind and heart. Where there is a search for security, self-protection, here or in the hereafter, there can never be the understanding of truth, which alone shall set man free. When you say that you must be unselfish in order to realize God, you are really being egotistic in a subtle form. That is, you say, "I shall love my neighbour in order to find happiness, God." Then you do not know love; you are merely looking for a reward; the mentality of one seeking an exchange cannot understand truth. You do not perceive beauty in action itself, but you are really interested in what reward action will bring you. You develop virtue as a means of self-protection. The so-called virtuous shall not know the beauty of truth. Man can understand it only when his mind and heart are completely naked and vulnerable. Most people are afraid of being vulnerable to life, so they develop protective walls which they call virtue. When there is no longer the desire nor the necessity to protect oneself, then there is bliss. Question: Is God just and good? If so, why does he permit evil in the world? Krishnamurti: Let us leave God out of this questions because you don't know, really, whether God is good or evil. You have been told that God is love, that he is just and good, and if you really, profoundly believed it, your whole life would be different. As it is not, do not concern yourself about God. You want to know how and why evils, miserable conditions, exploitation exist in the world. We have created them. Each individual, through his intense desire to be secure, to be safe, to be certain, has created a society, a religion, in whose shelter he takes comfort. So we as individuals have created this system, and as individuals we will have to awaken to our creation and destroy all the things that are false in it; then in that freedom there will be love, truth. Instead of escaping from the objective world of confusion and misery into the subjective, in which you hope to find God, let there be harmony between the subjective and the objective. Begin to discover this harmony; do not crave for it, but become aware of the cause of disharmony. By understanding how this disharmony comes into being through the many forms of egotistic expression, you will naturally come to that harmony which is enduring, living. Question: Does consciousness evolve? Krishnamurti: Many people think that there is a universal or cosmic consciousness, or whatever they call it, and a particular, individualistic consciousness. What we intimately know is the individualistic, limited consciousness, and you are asking me if this consciousness is progressive, evolving. Now what do you mean by individual consciousness? This limited consciousness is the result of conflict between desire and environment, that is, the present and the past; this consciousness is the result of the various impositions, compulsions, to which the mind has submitted itself in its search for security; it is also the many scars of incomplete action. The "I", or egotistic consciousness is made up of these conflicts, compulsions, and the many layers of self-defensive memories. With this background the mind lives through an experience and learns from it only further means of self-protection. When you say you are learning through experience, you fundamentally mean that you are erecting greater and more cunning walls of self-defence. So each experience is creating further defences, barriers against life. You ask me if this limited consciousness, having its roots in self- protection, evolves and perfects itself. How can it? It cannot. However much it may seem to evolve, it must ever remain a centre of limitation and frustration. A consciousness based on self-protective memories must lead to illusion, not to reality. Question: You speak of a truth which is at present beyond the reach of our minds and hearts. Since we know of its existence only through you, how can we strive for it unless we accept it on your authority? Krishnamurti: As I explained, we accept authority when we seek security, comfort, certainty. If you seek truth in order to shelter yourself against the storm and confusion of life, then you will find authorities that will give you comfort. But I am not offering you comfort. I say that there is the bliss of reality when the mind is free from compulsion and illusion. Where there is a search for comfort there must be egotism, which in its subtlest form is sometimes called the search for truth. The following of another cannot awaken your mind to reality. Instead of escaping to an ideal, to the truth of another, discover how confusion and sorrow have been created in and about you. In piercing through the false values in which the mind takes shelter there comes the perception of reality. We think that intelligent fulfilment lies in following a method, a discipline, and so we look to another, which makes our action incomplete and limited. We try to escape from this shallowness, frustration, by creating new authorities, and so increase our limitations. They are caused by our own actions based on reward, recompense, on fear and compulsion. Instead of trying to become complete, discover the cause of frustration, which is egotism in its many subtle forms. As long as you are living in a set of false values, there must be incompleteness and suffering. None can lead you out of it except you yourself through your own effort and understanding. November 3, 1935 Colombo Ceylon 1st Radio talk 28th December 1949 'action' Colombo Ceylon 2nd Radio talk 22nd January 1950 'relationship' COLOMBO CEYLON 1ST RADIO TALK 28TH DECEMBER, 1949 `ACTION' The problems that confront each one of us, and so the world, cannot be solved by politicians or by specialists. These problems are not the result of superficial causes and cannot be so considered. No problem, specially a human problem, can be solved at any one particular level. Our problems are complex; they can be solved only as a total process of man's response to life. The experts may give blue prints for planned action and it is not the planned actions that are going to save us but the understanding of the total process of man, which is yourself. The experts can only deal with problems on a single level, and so increase our conflicts and confusion. It is disastrous to consider our complex human problem on a single particular level and allow the specialists to dominate our lives. Our life is a complex process which requires deep understanding of ourselves as thought and feeling. Without understanding ourselves, no problem, however superficial or however complex, can be understood. our relationship must inevitably lead to conflict and confusion. Without understanding ourselves there can be no new social order. A revolution without self-knowledge is merely a modified continuation of the present state. Self-knowledge is not a thing to be bought in books, nor is it the outcome of a long painful practice and discipline; but it is awareness, from moment to moment, of every thought and feeling as it arises in relationship. Relationship is not on an abstract ideological level, but an actuality, the relationship with property, with people and with ideas. Relationship implies existence; and as nothing can live in isolation, to be is to be related. Our conflict is in relationship, at all the levels of our existence; and the understanding of this relationship, completely and extensively, is the only real problem that each one has. This problem cannot be postponed nor be evaded. The avoidance of it only creates further conflict and misery. The escape from it only brings about thoughtlessness which is exploited by the crafty and the ambitious. Religion then is not belief, nor dogma, but the understanding of truth that is to be discovered in relationship, from moment to moment. Religion that is belief and dogma is only an escape from the reality of relationship. The man who seeks God, or what you will, through belief which he calls religion, only creates opposition, bringing about separation which is disintegration. Any form of ideology, whether of the right or of the left, of this particular religion or of that, sets man against man - which is what is happening in the world. The replacement of one ideology by another is not the solution to our problems. The problem is not which is the better ideology, but the understanding of ourselves as a total process. You might say that the understanding of ourselves takes infinite time and in the meanwhile the world is going to pieces. You think that if you have a planned action according to an ideology, then there is a possibility of bringing about, soon, a transformation in the world. If we look a little more closely into this, we will see that ideas do not bring people together at all. An idea may help to form a group, but that group is against another with a different idea and so on till ideas become more important than action. Ideologies, beliefs, organized religions, separate people. Humanity cannot be integrated by an idea, however noble and extensive that idea may be. For idea is merely a conditioned response; and a conditioned response, in meeting the challenge of life, must be inadequate, bringing with it conflict and confusion. Religion that is based on idea, cannot bring man together. Religion as the experience of some authority may bind a few people together but it will breed inevitably antagonism; the experience of another is not true, however great the experiencer may be. Truth can never be the product of self-projected authority. The experience of a guru, of a teacher, of a saint, of a saviour, is not the truth which you have to discover. The truth of another is not truth. You may repeat the verbal expression of truth to another; but, that becomes a lie in the process of repetition. The experience of another is not valid in understanding reality. But, the organized religions throughout the world are based on the experience of another and, therefore, are not liberating man but only binding him to a particular pattern which sets man against man. Each one of us has to start anew, afresh; for what we are, the world is. The world is not different from you and me. This little world of our problems, extended, becomes the world and the problems of the world. We despair of our understanding in relation to the vast problems of the world. We do not see that it is not a problem of mass action, but of the awakening of the individual to the world in which he lives, and to resolve the problems of his world, however limited. The mass is an abstraction which is exploited by the politician, by one who has an ideology. The mass is actually you and I and another. When you and I and another are hypnotized by a word, then we become the mass, which is still an abstraction, for the word is an abstraction. The mass action is an illusion. This action is really the idea about an action of the few which we accept in our confusion and despair. Out of our confusion and despair, we choose our guide whether political or religious; and they must inevitably, because of our choice, be also in confusion and despair. They may put on an air of certainty and all-knowingness; but, actually, as they are the guides of the confused, they must be equally confused; or, they will not be the guides. In the world, where the leader (guide) and the led (guided) are confused, to follow the pattern or an ideology, knowingly or unknowingly, is to breed further conflict and misery. The individual then is important, not his idea or whom he follows, his country or his belief. You are important, not to what ideology or nation you belong, to what colour and creed; the ideology is only a projection of our own conditioning. These conditionings may, at one level, be useful as knowledge; but at another level, at the deeper levels of existence, they become extremely harmful and destructive. As these are your own projections - the religious and the ideologies, the nationalism and the patterns - any action based on them must be the activity of the dog chasing its tail. For all ideals are homemade. They are the result of your own projection and they do not reveal truth. It is only when each one of us realizes the present structure of existence, the structure of self-projected ideals and conclusions, then only is there a possibility of freeing ourselves and looking at the problem anew. The crisis, the impending disasters, cannot be dissolved by another set of self-projected ideologies, but only when you, as an individual, realize the truth of this and so begin to understand the total process of your thought and feeling. The individual is important only in this sense and not in the isolated ruthless response to the problem. After all, the problem throughout the world is the inadequate response to the new, changing challenge of life. This inadequacy creates conflict that brings about the problem. Until the response is adequate we must have multiplicity of problems. The adequacy does not demand a new conditioning but the freedom from all conditioning. That is, as long as you are a Buddhist, a Christian, a Muslim, a Hindu, or belonging to the left or to the right, you cannot respond adequately to the problems which are your own creation and so of the world. It is not the strengthening of the conditioning, religious or social, that is going to bring peace to you and to the world. The world is your problem; and to comprehend it, you must understand yourself. This understanding of yourself is not a matter of time. You exist only in relationship; otherwise you are not. Your relationship is the problem - your relationship to property, to people, and to ideas, or to beliefs. This relationship is now friction, conflict; and so long as you do not understand your relationship, do what you will, hypnotize yourself by any ideology or dogma, there can be no rest for you. This understanding of yourself is action in relationship. You discover yourself as you are, directly in relationship. Relationship is the mirror in which you can see yourself as you are. You cannot see yourself as you are in this mirror, if you approach it with a conclusion and an explanation, or with condemnation, or with justification. The very perception of what you are, as you are, in the moment of action of relationship, brings a freedom from what is. Only in freedom can there be discovery. A conditioned mind cannot discover truth. Freedom is not an abstraction, but it comes into being with virtue. For, the very nature of virtue is to bring liberation from the causes of confusion. After all, non-virtue is disorder, conflict. But virtue is freedom, the clarity of perception that understanding brings. You cannot become virtuous. The becoming is the illusion of greed, or acquisitiveness. Virtue is the immediate perception of what is. So, self-knowledge is the beginning of wisdom; and it is wisdom that will resolve your problems and so the problems of the world. December 28, 1950 COLOMBO CEYLON 2ND RADIO TALK 22ND JANUARY, 1950 `RELATIONSHIP' Relationship is action, is it not? Action has meaning only in relationship; without understanding relationship, action on any level will only breed conflict. The understanding of relationship is infinitely more important than the search for any plan of action. The ideology, the pattern for action, prevents action. Action based on ideology hinders the understanding of relationship between man and man. Ideology may be of the right or of the left, religious or secular; but it is invariably destructive of relationship. The understanding of relationship is true action. Without understanding relationship, strife and antagonism, war and confusion are inevitable. Relationship means contact, communion. There cannot be communion where people are divided by ideas. A belief may gather a group of people around itself. Such a group will inevitably breed opposition and so form another group with a different belief. Ideals postpone direct relationship with the problem. It is only when there is direct relationship with the problem, is there action. But unfortunately, all of us approach the problem with conclusions, with explanations, which we call ideals. They are the means of postponing action. Idea is thought verbalized. Without the word, the symbol, the image, thought is not. Thought is response of memory, of experience, which are the conditioning influences. These influences are not only of the past but of the past in conjunction with the present. So, the past is always shadowing the present. Idea is the response of the past to the present; and so, idea is always limited, however extensive it may be. So, idea must always separate people. The world is always close to catastrophe. But it seems to be closer now. Seeing this approaching catastrophe, most of us take shelter in idea. We think that this catastrophe, this crisis, can be solved by an ideology. Ideology is always an impediment to direct relationship which prevents action. We want peace only as an idea, but not as an actuality. We want peace on the verbal level which is only on the thinking level, though we proudly call it the intellectual level. But the word "peace" is not peace. Peace can only be when the confusion which you and another make, ceases. We are attached to the world of ideas and not to peace. We search for new social and political patterns and not for peace; we are concerned with the reconciliation of effects and not in putting aside the cause of war. This search will bring only answers conditioned by the past. This conditioning is what we call knowledge, experience; and the new changing facts are translated, interpreted, according to this knowledge. So, there is conflict between what is and the experience that has been. The past which is knowledge, must ever be in conflict with the fact which is ever in the present. So, this will not solve the problem but will perpetuate the conditions which have created the problem. We come to the problem with ideas about it, with conclusions and answers according to our prejudices. We interpose between ourselves and the problem the screen of ideology. Naturally the answer to the problem is according to the ideology, which only creates another problem without resolving that with which we began. Relationship is our problem, and not the idea about relationship not at any one particular level but at all the levels of our existence. This is the only problem we have. To understand relationship, we must come to it with freedom from all ideology, from all prejudice, not merely from the prejudice of the un-educated but also from the prejudice of knowledge. There is no such thing as understanding of the problem from past experience. Each problem is new. There is no such thing as an old problem. When we approach a problem which is always new, with an idea which is invariably the outcome of the past, our response is also of the past which prevents understanding the problem. The search for an answer to the problem only intensifies it. The answer is not away from it but only in the problem itself. We must see the problem afresh and not through the screen of the past. The inadequacy of response to challenge creates the problem. This inadequacy has to be understood and not the challenge. We are eager to see the new and we cannot see it, as the image of the past prevents the clear perception of it. We respond to challenge only as Sinhalese or Tamilians, as Buddhists or as of the left or of the right; this invariably produces further conflict. So, what is important is not seeing the new but the removal of the old. When the response is adequate to the challenge then only is there no conflict, no problem. This has to be seen in our daily life and not in the issues of newspapers. Relationship is the challenge of everyday life. If you and I and another do not know how to meet each other, we are creating conditions that breed war. So, the world problem is your problem. You are not different from the world. The world is you. What you are the world is. You can save the world, which is yourself, only in understanding the relationship of your daily life and not through belief, called religion, of the left or of the right, or through any reform however extensive. The hope is not in the expert, in the ideology, or in the new leader; but it lies in you. You might ask how you, living an ordinary life in a limited circle, could affect the present world-crisis. I do not think you will be able to. The present struggle is the outcome of the past which you and another have created. Until you and another radically alter the present relationship, you will only contribute to further misery. This is not oversimplification. If you go into it fully, you will see how your relationship with another, when extended, brings about world conflict and antagonism. The world is you. Without the transformation of the individual which is you, there can be no radical revolution in the world. The revolution in social order without the individual transformation will only lead to further conflict and disaster. For, society is the relationship of you and me and another. Without radical revolution in this relationship, all effort to bring peace is only a reformation, however revolutionary, which is retrogression. Relationship based on mutual need brings only conflict. However interdependent we are on each other, we are using each other for a purpose, for an end. With an end in view, relationship is not. You may use me and I may use you. In this usage, we lose contact. A society based on mutual usage is the foundation of violence. When we use another, we have only the picture of the end to be gained. The end, the gain, prevents relationship, communion. In the usage of another, however gratifying and comforting it may be, there is always fear. To avoid this fear, we must possess. From this possession there arises envy, suspicion and constant conflict. Such a relationship can never bring about happiness. A society whose structure is based on mere need, whether physiological or psychological, must breed conflict, confusion and misery. Society is the projection of yourself in relation with another, in which the need and the use are predominant. When you use another for your need, physically or psychologically, in actuality there is no relationship at all; you really have no contact with the other, no communion with the other. How can you have communion with the other, when the other is used as a piece of furniture, for your convenience and comfort? So, it is essential to understand the significance of relationship in daily life. We do not understand relationship; the total process of our being, our thought, our activity, makes for isolation - which prevents relationship. The ambitious, the crafty, the believer, can have no relationship with another. He can only use another which makes for confusion and enmity. This confusion and enmity exist in our present social structure; they will exist also in any reformed society as long as there is no fundamental revolution in our attitude towards another human being. As long as we use another as a means towards an end, however noble, there will be inevitably violence and disorder. If you and I bring about fundamental revolution in ourselves, not based on mutual need - either physical or psychological - then, has not our relationship to the other undergone a fundamental transformation? Our difficulty is that we have a pic- ture of what the new organized society should be and we try to fit ourselves into that pattern. The pattern is obviously fictitious. ut what is real is that which we are actually. In the understanding of what you are, which is seen clearly in the mirror of daily relationship, to follow the pattern only brings about further conflict and confusion. The present social disorder and misery must work itself out. But you and I and another can and must see the truth of relationship and so start a new action which is not based on mutual need and gratification. Mere reformation of the present structure of society without altering fundamentally our relationship is retrogression. A revolution which maintains the usage of man towards an end however promising is productive of further wars and untold sorrow. The end is always the projection of our own conditioning. However promising and utopian it might be, the end can only be a means of further confusion and pain. What is important in all this is not the new patterns, the new superficial changes, but the understanding of the total process of man, which is yourself. In the process of understanding yourself, not in isolation but in relationship, you will find that there is a deep, lasting transformation in which the usage of another as a means for your own psychological gratification has come to an end. What is important is not how to act, what pattern to follow, or which ideology is the best, but the understanding of your relationship with another. This understanding is the only revolution, and not the revolution based on idea. Any revolution based on an ideology maintains man as a means only. As the inner always overcomes the outer, without understanding the total psychological process, which is yourself, there is no basis for thinking at all. Any thought which produces a pattern of action, will only lead to further ignorance and confusion. There is only one fundamental revolution. This revolution is not of idea; it is not based on any pattern of action. This revolution comes into being when the need for using another ceases. This transformation is not an abstraction, a thing to be wished for, but an actuality which can be experienced, as we begin to understand the way of our relationship. This fundamental revolution may be called love; it is the only creative factor in bringing about transformation in ourselves and so in society. January 22, 1950 - Ojai 1936 - 1st Public Talk 2nd Public Talk 3rd Public Talk 4th Public Talk 5th Public Talk 6th Public Talk 7th Public Talk 8th Public Talk - New York 1936 - 1st Public Talk 2nd Public Talk Edsington, Pennsylvania 1936 - 1st Public Talk 2nd Public Talk 3rd Public Talk Ommen, Holland 1936 - 1st Public Talk 2nd Public Talk 3rd Public Talk 4th Public Talk 5th Public Talk 6th Public Talk 7th Public Talk 8th Public Talk - Madras 1936 - 1st Public Talk 2nd Public Talk 3rd Public Talk 4th Public Talk Ommen, Holland 1937 - 1st Public Talk 2nd Public Talk 3rd Public Talk 4th Public Talk 5th Public Talk 6th Public Talk 7th Public Talk 8th Public Talk Ommen, Holland 1938 - 1st Public Talk 2nd Public Talk 3rd Public Talk 4th Public Talk 5th Public Talk 6th Public Talk - Ojai 1940 - 1st Public Talk 2nd Public Talk 3rd Public Talk 4th Public Talk 5th Public Talk 6th Public Talk 7th Public Talk 8th Public Talk - Sarobia Discussions, 1940 - Notes - Ojai, 1944 - 1st Public Talk 2nd Public Talk 3rd Public Talk 4th Public Talk 5th Public Talk 6th Public Talk 7th Public Talk 8th Public Talk 9th Public Talk 10th Public Talk OJAI 1ST TALK IN THE OAK GROVE 5TH APRIL, 1936 People come to these talks with many expectations and hopes, and with many peculiar ideas; and for the sake of clarification, let us examine these and see their true worth. Perhaps there are a few of us here whose minds are not burdened with jargons which are but wearisome verbal repetitions. There may also be others who, having freed themselves from beliefs and superstitions, are eager to understand the significance of what I say. Seeing the illusory nature of imitativeness, they can no longer seek patterns and moulds for their conduct. They come in the hope of awakening their innate creativeness, so that they may live profoundly in the movement of life. They are not seeking a new jargon or mode of conduct, smartness of ideas or emotional assertiveness. Now, I am talking to those who desire to awaken to the reality of life and create for themselves the true way of thinking and living. By this I do not mean that my words are restricted to the few, or to some imaginary clique of self-chosen intellectuals. What I say may not seem vital to those who are merely curious, for I have no empty phrases or bold assertions with which to excite them. The curious, who merely desire emotional stimulation, will not find satisfaction in my words. Then there are those who come here to compare what I have to say with the many schools of thoughtlessness. (Laughter) No, please, this is not a smart remark. From letters I have received and from people who have talked to me, I know there are many who think that by belonging to special schools of thought they will advance and be of service to the world. But what they call schools of thought are nothing but imitative jargons which merely create divisions and encourage exclusiveness and vanity of mind. These systems of thought have really no validity, being founded on illusion. Though their followers may become very erudite and defend themselves with their learning, they are in reality thoughtless. Again, there are many whose minds have become complicated by the search for systems of human salvation. They seek, now through economics, now through religion, now through science, to bring about order and true harmony in human life. Fanaticism becomes the impulse for many who try, through dogmatic assertions, to impose on others their own imaginings and illusions, which they choose to call truth or God. So you have to find out for yourself why you are here, and under what impulse you came to listen to this talk. I hope we are here to dis- cover together whether we can live sanely, intelligently, and in the fullness of understanding. I feel that this should be the labour of both the speaker and the audience. We are going to start on a journey of deep inquiry and individual experiment, not on a journey of dogmatic assertions, creating new sets of beliefs and ideals. To discover the reality of what I say, you must experiment with it. Most of us are held by the idea that by discovering some single cause for man's suffering, conflict and confusion, we shall be able to solve the many problems of life. It has become the fashion to say: Cure the economic evils, then man's happiness and fulfilment are assured. Or: Accept some religious or philosophical idea, then peace and happiness can be made universal. In search of single causes we not only encourage specialists but also develop experts who are ever ready to create and expound logical systems, in which the thoughtless man is entrapped. You see exclusive systems or ideas for the salvation of man taking form everywhere throughout the world. We are so easily entrapped in them, thinking that this seemingly logical simplicity of single causes will help us to remove misery and confusion. A man who gives himself over to these specialists and to the single cause finds only greater confusion and misery. He becomes a tool in the hands of experts or a willing slave of those who can readily expound the logical simplicity of a single cause. If you deeply examine man's suffering and confusion, you will see without any doubt whatsoever that there are many causes, some complex, some simple, which we must understand thoroughly before we can free ourselves from conflict and suffering. If we desire to understand the many causes and their disturbances, we must treat life as a whole, not split it up into the mental and emotional, the economic and religious, or into heredity and environment. For this reason we cannot hand ourselves over to specialists, who naturally are trained to be exclusive and to be concentrated in their narrow divisions. It is essential not to do this; nevertheless, unconsciously we give ourselves over to another to be guided, to be told what to do, thinking that the religious or economic expert, because of his special knowledge and achievements, can direct our individual lives. Most specialists are so trained that they cannot take a comprehensive view of life; and because we adjust our lives, our actions, to the dictates of experts, we merely create greater confusion and sorrow. So, realizing that we cannot be slaves to experts, to teachers, to philosophers, to those people who say they have found God and who seemingly make life very simple, we should beware of them. We should seek simplicity, but in that very search we should be aware of the many illusions and delusions. Being conscious of all this, what should we, as individuals, do? We have to realize profoundly, not casually or superficially, that no one particular person or system is wholly going to solve for us our agonizing problems and clarify our complex and subtle reactions. If we can realize that there is no one outside of ourselves who is going to clear up the chaos and confusion that exist within and without us, then we shall not be imitative, we shall not crave for identification. We shall then begin to release the creative power within us. This signifies that we are beginning to be conscious of individual uniqueness. Each individual is unique, different, not similar to another; but by this I do not mean the expression of egotistic desires. We must begin to be self-conscious, which most of us are not; in bringing the hidden into the open, into the light, we discover the various causes of disharmony, of suffering. This alone will help to bring about a life of fulfilment and intelligent happiness. Without this liberation from the hidden, the concealed, our efforts must lead us to delusions. Until we discover, through experiment, our subtle and deep limitations, with their reactions, and so free ourselves from them, we shall lead a life of confusion and strife. For these limitations prevent the pliability of mind-emotion, making it incapable of true adjustment to the movement of life. This lack of pliability is the source of our egotistic competition, fear and the pursuit of security, leading to many comforting illusions. Though we may think we have found truth, bliss, and objectify the abstract idea of God, yet, while we remain unconscious of the hidden springs of our whole being, there cannot be the realization of truth. The mouthing of such words as truth, God, perfection, can have no deep significance and import. True search can begin only when we do not separate mind from emotion. As we have been trained to regard life, not as a complete whole, but as broken up into body, mind and spirit, we shall find it very difficult to orient ourselves to this new conception and reaction towards life. To educate ourselves to this way of regarding life, and not to slip back into the old habit of separative thought, requires persistence, constant alertness. When we begin to free ourselves, through experiment, from these false divisions with their special significances, pursuits and ideals, which have caused so much harm and falsely complicated our lives, then we shall release creative energy and discover the endless movement of life. Can the mind-heart know and profoundly appreciate this state of endlessness, this ceaseless becoming? Infinity has a profound significance, only when there is liberation from the limitations which we have created through our false conceptions and divisions, as body, mind and spirit, each with its own distinctive ideals and pursuits. When the mind- heart detaches itself from harmful and limiting reactions and begins to live intensely, with deep awareness, then only is there the possibility of knowing profoundly this ceaseless becoming. Mind-emotion must be wholly free from identification and imitation, to know this blessedness. The awakening of this creative intelligence will alone bring about man's humanity, his balance and deep fulfilment. Until you become conscious both of your environment and of your past, and understand their significance - not as two contrasted elements, which would only produce false reactions, but as a coordinated whole - and until you are able to react to this whole, profoundly, there cannot be the perception of the endless movement of life. True search begins only when there is a release from those reactions which are the result of division. Without the understanding of life's wholeness, the search for truth or happiness must lead to illusion. In pursuit of an illusion, one often feels an exhilaration, an emotionalism; but when one examines this emotional structure, it is nothing but a limitation, the building up of walls of refuge. It is a prison, though one may live in it and even enjoy it. It is an escape from the conflict of life into limitation; and there are many who will help and encourage you in this flight. If these talks are to have any significance for you, you must begin to experiment with what I am saying, and live anew by becoming conscious of all your reactions. Be conscious of them, but do not at once discard some as being bad, and accept others as being good; for the mind, being limited, is unable to discern truly. What is important is to be aware of them. Then through that constant awareness, in which there is no sense of opposites, no division as mind and emotion, there comes the harmony of action which alone will bring about fulfilment. Question: Are there not many expounders of truth besides yourself? Must one leave them all and listen only to you? Krishnamurti: There can never be expounders of truth. Truth cannot be explained, any more than you can explain love to a man who has never been in love. Such a phrase as "expounders of truth" has no meaning. What are we trying to do here? I am not asking you to believe what I say, nor am I subtly making you follow me in order that you may be exploited. Independently of me, you can experiment with what I say. I am trying to show you how one can live sanely and deeply, with creative richness, so that one's life is a fulfilment and not a continual frustration. This can be done when the mind-heart liberates itself from those false reactions, conceptions and ideas which it has inherited and acquired, the reactions born of egotistic fears and limitations, the reactions born of division and the conflict of the opposites. Those limitations and narrow reactions prevent the mind-heart from adjusting itself to the movement of life. From this lack of pliability arise confusion, delusion and sorrow. Only through your own awareness and endeavour, and not through authority or imitation, can these limitations be swept away. Question: What is your idea of infinity? Krishnamurti: There is a movement, a process of life, without end, which may be called infinity. Through authority, imitation, born of fear, mind creates for itself many false reactions and thereby limits itself. Identifying itself with this limitation, it is incapable of following the swift movement of life. Because the mind, prompted by fear and in its desire for security and comfort, seeks an end, an absolute with which it can identify itself, it becomes incapable of following the never ending movement of life. Until the mind-heart can free itself from these limitations, in full consciousness, there cannot be the comprehension of this endless process of becoming. So do not ask what is infinity, but discover for yourself the limitations which hold the mind-heart in bondage, preventing it from living in this movement of life. April 5, 1936 OJAI 2ND TALK IN THE OAK GROVE 12TH APRIL, 1936 Most thoughtful people have the desire to help the world. They think of themselves as apart from the mass. They see so much exploitation, so much misery; they see scientific and technical achievements far in advance of human conduct, comprehension and intelligence. Seeing all this about them and desiring to change the conditions, they consider that the mass must first be awakened. Often this question is put to me: Why do you emphasize the individual and not consider the mass? From my point of view, there can be no such division as the mass and the individual. Though there is mass psychology, mass intention, action or purpose, there is no such entity as the mass, apart from the individual. When you analyze the term, the mass, what is it? You will see that it is composed of many separate units, that is, ourselves, with extraordinary beliefs, ideals, illusions, superstitions, hatreds, prejudices, ambitions and pursuits. These perversions and pursuits compose that nebulous and uncertain phenomenon which we call the mass. So the mass is ourselves. You are the mass and I am the mass, and in each one of us there is the one and the many, the one being the conscious, and the many the unconscious. The conscious can be said to be the individual. So in each one of us we have the one and the many. The many, the unconscious, is composed of unquestioned values, values that are false to facts, values which through time and usage have become pleasant and acceptable; it is composed of ideals which give us security and comfort, without deep significance; of standards of conformity, which are preventing clear perception and action; of thoughts and emotions which have their origin in fear and primitive reactions. This I call the unconscious, the mass, of which each one of us is a part, whether we know it or not, whether we acknowledge it or not. If there is to be a clear reflection, the mirror must not be distorted, its surface must be even and clean. So must the mind-heart, which is an integrated whole, not two distinct and separate parts, be free from its self-created perversions before there can be discernment, comprehension, balance or intelligence. To live completely, experience must continually be brought into the conscious. Most of us are unconscious of the background, of the perversions, the twists that prevent discernment, making us incapable of adjusting ourselves to the movement of life. Some of you may say: All this is quite obvious; we know this, and there is nothing new in it. I fear that if you merely dismiss what I say, without deep thought, you will not awaken your creative intelligence. If we are to understand life wholly, completely, we must bring the unconscious, through experience, through experiment, into the conscious. Then there will be balance and deep intelligence. Only then can there be true search. So long as the mind-heart is bound by beliefs, ideals, or vain and illusory pursuits, what we call the search for truth or reality will inevitably lead to escapes. No psychologist or teacher can free the mind; its freedom can come only through its own inherent necessity. The search for truth or God - the very naming of it helps to create a barrier - can truly begin only when there is this harmonious intelligence. As the mind-heart is perverted, limited by the reactions of ignorance, it is incapable of discerning that which is. How can one understand what is true if one`s mind-heart is prejudiced? These prejudices are so deep-rooted and stretch so far into the past that one cannot discover their beginning. With a mind so prejudiced, how can we truly discern, how can there be happiness or intelligence? The mind-heart must become aware of its own process of creating illusions and limitations. No teacher can free it from this process. Until the mind-heart is deeply, profoundly conscious of its own process, its own power to create illusions, there cannot be discernment. To bring about this harmonious intelligence, there must be a fundamental change in our habits of thought-emotion, and this requires patient perseverance, persistent thoughtfulness. Until now it has been said that there is God, that there is truth, that there is something absolute, final, eternal, and on that assertion we have built our thought and emotion, our life, our morality. It has been said: Act in this manner, follow that, do not do this. Most people consider such teachings to be positive. If you examine these teachings, which are called positive instructions, you will discover that they are destructive of intelligence; for they become the frame within which the mind limits itself, to imitate and copy, thus making itself incapable of adjustment to the movement of life, twisting life to the pattern of an ideal, which only creates further sorrow and confusion. To understand and awaken this harmonious intelligence, one must begin, not with assumptions and authoritative assertions, but negatively. When the mind is free of these ignorant responses, there is then the deep harmony born of intelligence. Then begins the joy of penetration into reality. No one can tell you of reality, and any description of it must ever be false. To understand truth, there must be silent observation, and description of it but confuses and limits it. To comprehend the infinite process of life, we must begin negatively, without assertions and assumptions, and from that build the structure of our thought-emotion, our action and conduct. If this is not deeply understood, what I say will merely become mechanical beliefs and ideals, and create new absurdities based on faith and authority. We shall unconsciously revert to primitive attitudes and reactions born of fear, with its many delusions, though these may be clothed in new words. When you are really able to think without any craving, without any desire to choose - for choice implies opposites - there is discernment. What makes up this background? It is the result of a process without a beginning. It is composed of many layers, and a few words cannot describe them. You can take one or two layers and examine them - not objectively, for the mind itself is their creator and is part of them - and in analyzing and experimenting with them, the mind itself begins to perceive its own make-up, and the process of creating its own prison. This deep understanding not only brings into consciousness the many layers, but also brings about the cessation of creating further limitations and barriers. One of the layers or sections of this background is ignorance. Ignorance is not to be confounded with the mere lack of information. Ignorance is the lack of comprehension of oneself. The "oneself" is not of a given period, and no words can cover the whole process of individuality. Ignorance will exist so long as the mind does not uncover the process of creating its own limitations, and also the process of self-induced action. To do this, there must be great perseverance, experimentation, and comprehension. The deep understanding of oneself, the "oneself" without a beginning, is prevented through accumulative processes. I call accumulative processes the craving for identification with truth, the imitation of an ideal, the desire for conformity, all of which creates authority and engenders fear, leading to many delusions. The accumulative process continues while thought is caught up in and pursues the opposites, good and bad, positive and negative, love and hate, virtue and sin. The accumulative process gives to the mind-heart comfort and shelter against the movement of life. If the mind-heart perceives itself in action, then it will observe that it is creating those accumulative illusions for its own limited continuance and security. This process brings about pain, misery and conflict. How can the mind disentangle itself from its own fears, ignorant reactions and the many delusions? All influences which force the mind to free itself from these limitations will only create further escapes and illusions. When the mind relies on outer circumstances to bring about these fundamental changes, it is not acting as a whole, it is separating and dividing itself as the past and the present, the outer and the inner. If such a division exists, the mind-heart must create for itself further illusions and sorrow. Please try to understand all this carefully. If the mind tries to free itself from these limitations because of compulsion, reward or punishment, or because it is sorrow-laden and so seeks happiness, or for any superficial reason, its attempt must inevitably lead to frustration and confusion. It is important to understand this, for there is freedom from these limitations only when the mind itself comprehends the utter necessity for it. This necessity cannot be self-induced or self-imposed. Question: How may we help the hopelessly insane? Krishnamurti: Now, insanity is a problem of subtle varieties, for one may think that one is sane, and yet appear completely insane to others. There is the insanity which is brought about through organic, physical defect, and there is the lack of balance induced through the mind-heart being incapable of adjustment to life. Of course there is no such clear division and distinction between the purely physical and the purely mental causes leading to the many disturbances and maladjustments in life. I should think in most cases this lack of cohesion and balance begins when the individual, brought up and trained in ignorant, narrow and egotistic responses, is incapable of adjusting himself to the ever changing movement of life. Most of us are not balanced, as most of us are unconscious of the many layers of limited values which bind the mind-heart. These limited values cripple thought and prevent us from understanding the infinite values which alone can bring about sanity and intelligence. We accept certain attitudes and actions as being in accord with human values. Take, for example, competition and war. If we examine competition, with its many implications, we see that it springs from the ignorant reaction of strife against another, whereas in fulfilment there cannot be this competitive spirit. We have accepted this competitive spirit as being a part of human nature, from which arises not only individual combativeness but also racial and national strife, thus contributing one of the many causes of war. A mind caught up in this primitive reaction must be considered incapable of deep adjustment to the realities of life. A man whose thought-emotion is based on faith, and so on belief, must of necessity be unbalanced, for his belief is merely a wish-fulfilment. When people say that they believe in reincarnation, in immortality, in God, these are but emotional cravings which to them become objectified concepts and facts. They can discover actuality only when they have understood and dissolved the process of ignorance. When one says, "I believe", one limits thought, and turns belief into a pattern according to which one guides and conducts one's life, thus allowing the mind-heart to become narrow, crystallized, and incapable of adjustment to life and reality. With most people, belief becomes merely an escape from the conflict and confusion of life. Belief must not be confused with intuition, and intuition is not wishfulfilment. Belief, as I have tried to point out, is based on escape, on frustration, on limitation, and this very belief prevents the mind-heart from dissolving its own self-created ignorance. So each one has the capacity, the power, to be either sane, balanced, or otherwise. To discover whether one is balanced, one must start negatively, not with assertions, dogmas and beliefs. If one can think profoundly, then one will become aware of the extraordinary beauty of intelligent completeness. Question: You said last Sunday that most people are not self-conscious. It seems to me that quite the contrary is true, and that most people are very self-conscious. What do you mean by self-conscious? Krishnamurti: This is a difficult and subtle question to answer in a few words, but I will try to explain it as well as I can, and please remember that words do not convey all the subtle implications involved in the answer. Every living thing is force, energy, unique to itself. This force or energy creates its own materials which can be called the body, sensation, thought or consciousness. This force or energy in its self-acting development becomes consciousness. From this there arises the "I" process, the "I" movement. Then begins the round of creating its own ignorance. The "I" process begins and continues in identification with its own self-created limitations. The "I" is not a separate entity, as most of us think; it is both the form of energy and energy itself. But that force, in its development, creates its own material, and consciousness is a part of it; and through the senses, consciousness becomes known as the individual. This "I" process is not of the moment, it is without a beginning. But through constant awareness and comprehension, this "I" process can be ended. April 12, 1936 OJAI 3RD TALK IN THE OAK GROVE 19TH APRIL, 1936 To have united thought, and so action, there must be agreement, accord, and to have agreement seems to be very difficult. Agreement does not mean thoughtless acceptance or tolerance, for tolerance is superficial. Agreement demands deep intelligence and requires a mind that is very pliable. In this world, apparently, one is more easily convinced by foolishness than by thought that is integral and intelligent. There is an emotional agreement which is not agreement at all. It is merely an excitement which carries one on to certain activities, attitudes and assertions, but does not lead to the full, intelligent awakening of individual fulfilment. Now, if you agree - as apparently most people agree - with foolishness, there must be confusion. You may feel for the moment that you are supremely happy, contented, and thus think that you have understood life; but if you allow your mind to consider your assumed happiness, you will see that what you have is really a superficial emotional excitement induced by the repeated assertions of another. Any action born of this superficiality must inevitably lead to confusion, whereas agreement, with intelligent thought, leads to true happiness and complete well-being. I am emphasizing this point because I feel it is very important and necessary that one should not have within oneself any barriers which create division, disagreement. These barriers create confusion and struggle in the individual, and also prevent united and intelligent action in the world. Intelligent agreement is essential for concerted action; but it is not agreement when there is any kind of compulsion or authority, whether subtle or gross. Please see why such deep understanding is necessary, and also please find out whether you are profoundly in agreement with what I say. By agreement, I do not mean a superficial and tolerant acceptance of certain ideas which I express. You should consider the whole implication of what I say and discover whether you are deeply in agreement with it. This needs thought and careful analysis, and then only can you accept or reject. As the majority of us seem to yield to emphatically repeated assertions, I feel it would be a waste of time if you merely allowed yourself to be convinced by certain statements which I often repeat. Such surrender on your part would be utterly useless and even harmful. In this world there are so many contradictory opinions, theories, grotesque assertions and emotional claims, that it is difficult to discern what is true, what is really helpful for individual comprehension and fulfilment. These affirmations - some fantastic, some true, some violent, some absurdly confusing - are thrown and shouted at us. Through books, magazines, lecturers, we become their victims. They promise rewards, and at the same time subtly threaten and compel. Gradually we allow ourselves to take sides, to attack and defend. So we accept this or that theory, insist on this or that dogma, and unconsciously the repeated assertions of others become our beliefs, on which we try to mould our whole lives. This is not an exaggeration; it is happening in us and about us. We are constantly being bombarded with claims and oft repeated ideas, and unfortunately we tend to take sides because our own unconscious desire is for comfort and security, emotional or intellectual, which leads us to accept these affirmations. Under such conditions, though we may think that we examine these assertions and intuitively know them to be true, our minds are incapable of examination or of any intuition. Hardly anyone escapes this constant attack through propaganda; and unfortunately, through one's own craving for security and for permanence, one helps to create and encourage fantastic declarations. When the mind-heart is burdened with many barriers, prejudices, national and class distinctions, it is impossible to come to an intelligent agreement. What is happening is not intelligent and sane agreement among people, but it is a war of belief against belief, doctrine against doctrine, group against group, vested interest against vested interest. In this battle, intelligence, comprehension, is denied. It would really be a calamity if out of these meetings you developed dogmas, beliefs and instruments of compulsion. My talks are not intended to engender beliefs or ideals, which can only offer you an escape. To understand what I say, mind must be free from beliefs and from the prejudice of "I know." When you say, "I know", you are already dead. This is not a harsh statement. It is a very serious undertaking to try to discover what is true, why we are here, and where we are going. This discovery cannot be made by the superficial solution of our immediate problems. The mind-heart must free itself from those dogmas, beliefs and ideals of which most of us are unconscious. We are here to discover intelligently what is true; and if you understand this, you will discern something which is real, not something which is self-imposed or invented by another. Please believe that I am really not concerned with particular views, but with individual understanding, happiness and fulfilment. There are many teachers who maintain various systems, meditations, disciplines, which they claim will lead to the ultimate reality; there are many intermediaries who insist on obedience in the name of the Masters; and individuals who assert that there is God, that there is truth - unfortunately I myself have made these assertions in the past. Knowing all this, I have realized that the moment there is an assertion, its very significance is lost. How then shall we comprehend this world of contradictions, confusions, beliefs, dogmas and claims? From where shall we start? If we attempt to understand these from any other point of view than through the comprehension of ourselves, we shall but increase dissension, struggle and hatred. There are many causes, many processes at work in this world of becoming and decaying, and when we try to investigate each process, each cause, we inevitably come up against a blank wall, against something which has no explanation, for each process is unique in itself. Now, when you face the inexplicable, faith comes to your aid and asserts that there is a God, that he has created us and we are his instruments, that we are transcendent beings, with a permanent identity. Or if you are not religiously inclined, you try to solve this problem through science. There again you try to follow cause after cause, reaction after reaction; and though there are scientists who maintain that there is a deep intelligence at work, or who employ different symbols to convey to us the inexplicable, yet there comes a point beyond which even science cannot go, for it deals only with the perception and reaction of the senses. I think there is a way of understanding the whole process of birth and death, becoming and decaying, sorrow and happiness. When I say I think, I am being purposely suggestive, rather than dogmatic. This process can be truly understood and fundamentally grasped only through ourselves, for it is focussed in each individual. We see around us this continual becoming and decaying, this agony and transient pleasure, but we cannot possibly understand this process outside of ourselves. We can comprehend this only in our own consciousness, through our own "I" process; and if we do this, then there is a possibility of perceiving the significance of all existence. Please see the importance of this; otherwise we shall be entangled in the intricate question of environment and heredity. We shall understand this question when we do not divide our life into the past and the present, the subjective and the objective, the centre and the circumference; when we realize the working of the "I" process, the "I" consciousness as I have often said, if we merely accept the "I" as a living principle, a divine entity in isolation, created by God, we shall but create and encourage authority, with its fears and exploitations; and this cannot lead to man's fulfilment. Please do not translate what I say about the "I" process into your particular phraseology of belief. That would be of no help to you at all; on the contrary, it would be confusing; but please listen with an unprejudiced mind and heart. The "I" process is the result of ignorance, and that ignorance, like the flame that is fed by oil, sustains itself through its own activities. That is, the "I" process, the "I" energy, the "I" consciousness, is the outcome of ignorance, and ignorance maintains itself through its own self-created activities; it is encouraged and sustained through its own actions of craving and want. This ignorance has no beginning, and the energy that created it is unique to each individual. This uniqueness becomes individuality to consciousness. The "I" process is the result of that force, unique to each individual, which creates, in its self-development, its own materials, as body, discernment, consciousness, which become identified as the "I". This is really very simple, but it appears complicated when put into words. If, for example, one is brought up in the tradition of nationalism, that attitude must inevitably create barriers in action. A mind-heart narrowed and limited in action by prejudices must create increasing limitations. This is obvious. If you have beliefs, you are translating and moulding your experiences according to them, and so you are continuously forcing and limiting thought-emotion, and these limitations become the "I" process. Action, instead of liberating, freeing the mind-heart from its own self-imposed bondages, is creating further and deeper limitations, and these accumulated limitations can be called ignorance. This ignorance is encouraged, fed by its own activities, born of its own self-created desires. Unless you realize that ignorance is the result of its own self-created, self-sustained activities, the mind-heart must ever dwell in this vicious circle. When you deeply comprehend this, you will discern that life is no longer a series of conflicts and conquests, struggles and attainments, all leading to frustration. When you truly have an insight into this process of ignorance, living is no longer an accumulation of pain, but becomes the ecstasy of deep bliss and harmony. Most of us have an idea that the "I" is a separate being, divine, something that is enduring, becoming more and more perfect. I do not hold with any of this. Consciousness itself is the "I." You cannot separate the "I" process from consciousness. There is no "I" that is accumulating experience, which is apart from experience itself. There is only this process, this energy which is creating its own limitations, through its own self-sustained wants. When you discern that there is no "I" apart from action, that the actor is action itself, then gradually there comes a completeness, an unfathomable bliss. When you grasp this, there can be no method to free you from your own limitations, from the prison in which you are held. The "I" process must dissolve itself. It must wean itself away from itself. No saviour nor the worship of another can liberate you; your self-imposed disciplines and self-created authorities are of no avail. They but lead to further ignorance and sorrow. If you can understand this, you will not make of life a terrible, ugly struggle of exploitation and cruelty. Question: Last Sunday you seemed very uncertain in what you said, and some of us could make nothing of it. Several of my friends say they are not coming any more to hear you, because you are becoming vague and undecided about your own ideas. Is this impression due to lack of understanding in us, or are you not as sure of yourself as you used to be? Krishnamurti: You know, certain things cannot be put into words definitely, precisely. I try to express my comprehension of life as clearly as possible, and it is difficult. Sometimes I may succeed, but often I seem not to be able to convey what I think and feel. If one thinks deeply about what I have been saying, it will become clear and simple; but it will remain merely an intellectual conception if there is no comprehension in action. Some of you come repeatedly to these meetings, and I wonder what happens to you in the intervals between these talks. It is during these intervals that you can discover whether action is liberating, or creating further prisons and limitations. It is in your hands to fashion your own life, either to comprehend or to increase ignorance. Question: How can one be free of the primitive reactions of which you speak? Krishnamurti: The very desire to be free creates its own limitation. These primitive or ignorant reactions create conflicts, disturbances and sorrow in your life, and by getting rid of them you hope to acquire something else, happiness, bliss, peace, and so on. So you put to me the question: How am I to get rid of these reactions? That is, you want me to give you a method, lay down a system, a discipline, a mode of conduct. If you understand that there is no separate consciousness, apart from the "I" process; that the "I" is consciousness itself; that ignorance creates its own limitations, and that the "I" is but the result of its own action, then you will not think in terms of denudation and acquisition. Take, for example, the reaction towards nationalism. If you think about it, you will see that this reaction is ignorant and very harmful, not only to yourself but to the world. Then you will ask me: How is one to get rid of it? Now, why do you want to get rid of it? When you perceive why you want to get rid of it, you will then discern how it has come into being, artificially, with its many cruel implications; and when you deeply comprehend it, then there is not a conscious effort to get rid of this ignorant reaction; it disappears of itself. In the same way, if mind-heart is bound by fears, beliefs, which are so dominant, potent, overwhelming that they pervert clear perception, it is no good making great efforts to get rid of them. First you have to be conscious of them; and instead of wanting to get rid of them, find out why they exist. If you try to free yourself from them, you will unconsciously create or accept other and perhaps more subtle fears and beliefs. But when you perceive how they have come into being, through the desire for security, comfort, then that very perception will dissolve them. This requires great alertness of mind-heart. The struggle exists between those established values and the ever changing, indefinite values, between the fixed and the free movement of life, between standards, conventionalities, accumulated memories, and that which has no fixed abode. Instead of trying to pursue the unknown, examine what you have, the known, the established prejudices, limitations. Comprehend their significance; then they disappear like the mists of a morning. When you perceive that what you thought was a snake in the grass is only a rope, you are no longer afraid, there is no longer a struggle, an overcoming. And when, through deep discernment, we perceive that these limitations are self-created, then our attitude towards life is no longer one of conquering, of wanting to be freed through some method or miracle, of seeking comprehension through another. Then we will realize for ourselves that, though this process of ignorance appears to have no beginning, it has an end. April 19, 1936 OJAI 4TH TALK IN THE OAK GROVE 26TH APRIL, 1936 Many of you come to these meetings with the hope that by some miracle I am going to solve your difficulties, whether economic, religious or social. And if I cannot solve them, or if you are incapable of solving them for yourselves, you hope that some miraculous event or circumstance will dissolve them; or else you lose yourselves in some philosophic system, or hope that by joining a particular church or society your difficulties will of themselves disappear. As I have often tried to point out, these problems, whether social, religious or economic, are not going to be solved by depending on any particular system. They must be solved as a whole, and one must deeply comprehend one's own process of creating ignorance and being caught up in it. If one can understand this process of accumulating ignorance, with its self-sustaining action, and discern consciousness as the combination of these two -ignorance and action - one will then profoundly comprehend this conflicting and sorrowful existence. But unfortunately most of us are indifferent. We wait for outward circumstances to force us to think, and this compulsion can only bring about greater suffering and confusion. You can test this out for yourself. Then there are those who depend on faith for their understanding and comfort. They think that there is a supreme being who has made them, who will guide them, who will protect and save them. They fervently believe that by following a certain creed or a certain system of thought, and by forcing themselves into a certain mould of conduct and discipline, they will attain to the highest. As I tried to explain last Sunday, faith or acceptance is a hindrance to the deep comprehension of life. Most of us, unfortunately, are incapable of experimenting for ourselves or we are disinclined to make the effort; we are unwilling to think deeply and go through the real agony of being uncertain. So we depend on faith for our understanding and comfort. We often think that we are changing radically, and that our attitude is being fundamentally altered; but unfortunately we are merely changing the outward forms of our expression, and we still cling to the inner demands and cravings for support and comfort. Most of us belong to the category of those who depend on faith for the explanation of their being. I include in that word faith the many subtle demands, prayers and supplications to an external being, whether he be a Master or saint; or the appeal to the authority of beliefs, ideals and self-imposed disciplines. Having such a faith, with all its implications, we are bound to create duality in our life; that is, there is the actor ever trying to approximate himself and his actions to a concept, to a standard, to a belief, to an ideal. So there is a constant duality. If you examine your own attitude and action in life, you will see that there seems to be a separate entity who is looking at action, who is trying to mould, to shape the process of life according to a certain pattern, with the result that there is an ever increasing conflict and sorrow. If you observe, you will perceive that this duality in action is the cause of friction, conflict and misery, for one's effort is spent in making one's life conform to a particular pattern or concept. And we think that a man is happy and intelligent who is able to live in complete union with his ideal, with his preconceived beliefs. A person who can completely shape his actions to a principle, to an ideal, is considered sincere, wise and noble. It is but a form of rigidity, a lack of deep pliability, and hence a decay. So in one's life there is the abstract and the actual; the actual being the conflict, and the abstract, the unconscious, made up of those beliefs and ideals, those concepts and memories that one has so sedulously built up as a means of self-protection. There is taking place in each one a conflict between the abstract and the actual, the unconscious and the conscious. Each one is trying to bridge over the gap that exists between the unconscious and the conscious, and this attempt must lead to rigidity of mind-heart and hence to a gradual withering, a contraction, which prevents the complete understanding of oneself and so of the world. One often thinks this attempt to unify the actual with the abstract will bring about deep fulfilment; but if one discerns, it is but a subtle form of escape from the conflict of life, a self-protection against the movement of life. Before we can attempt to bring about this unity, we must know what is our unconscious, who has created it, and what is its significance. If we can deeply comprehend this, that is, if we can become aware of our own subtle motives, concepts, conceits, actions and reactions, we will then discern that there is only consciousness, the "I" process, which becomes perceptible to sense as individuality. This process must ever create a duality in action and bring about the artificial division of the conscious and the unconscious. From this process there arises the conception of a supreme deity, an ideal, an objective towards which there is a constant striving. Until we comprehend this process, there must be ignorance and hence sorrow. The lack of comprehension of oneself is ignorance. That is, one must discern how one has come into being, what one is, all the tendencies, the reactions, the hidden motives, the self-imposed beliefs and pursuits. Until each one deeply understands this, there can be no cessation of sorrow, and the confusion of divided action, as economic and religious, public and private, will continue. The human problems that now disturb us will disappear only when each one is able to discern the self-sustaining process of ignorance. To discern needs patience and constant awareness. As I have explained, there is no beginning to ignorance; it is sustained by its own cravings, through its own acquisitive demands and pursuits, and action merely becomes the means of maintaining it. This interacting process of ignorance and action brings about consciousness and the identity of the "I." As long as you do not know what you are and do not discern the various causes that result in the continued "I" process, there must be illusion and sorrow. Each one of us is unique in the sense that each one is continually creating his own ignorance, which is without a beginning and is self-sustained through its own actions. This ignorance, though it has no beginning, can come to an end when there is a deep discernment of this vicious circle. Then there is no longer the "I" attempting to get outside of the circle to a greater reality, but the "I" itself perceives its own illusory nature and so weans itself away from itself. This demands alertness and constant awareness. We are now making an effort to acquire virtues, pleasures, possessions, and are developing many tendencies towards greater accumulation and security; or, if we are not doing this, we go about it negatively by denying these things and trying to develop another series of subtle self-protections. If you examine this process carefully, you will perceive that consciousness, the mind, is ever isolating itself through acquisitive and self-protective desires. In this separative process duality is created, which brings conflict, suffering and confusion. The "I" process itself creates its own illusions, sorrows, through its self-created ignorance. To understand this process, there must be awareness, without the desire to choose between opposites. Choice in action creates duality, and this affirms the process of consciousness as individuality. If the mind-heart, not cognizant of its own secret demands, pursuits, of its hopes and fears, chooses, there must be the further creation of limitation and frustration. Thus, through the lack of understanding of ourselves, there is choice, which creates circumstances necessitating a further series of choices, and so mind-heart is caught over and over again in its own self-created circle of limitation. Those of you who want to experiment with what I am saying will soon discover that there is no such thing as an external entity or environment guiding you, and that you are entirely responsible for yourself, for your own limitations and sorrows. If you see this, then environment does not become a separate force in itself, controlling, dominating, twisting the fulfilment of the individual. Then you begin to realize that there is only consciousness, perceived as individuality, and that it does not conceal or cover any reality. The "I" process is not proceeding to reality, to greater happiness, intelligence, but it is itself creating its own sorrow and confusion. Take a very simple example and you can test this out for yourself. Many of you have very strong beliefs, which you make out to be the result of intuition; but they are not. These beliefs are the outcome of secret fears, longings and hopes. Such beliefs are unconsciously guiding you, forcing you into certain activities, and all experience is translated according to your ideals and beliefs. Hence there is no comprehension of life, but only the storing up of self-protective memories which increase in their intensity and limitation through further experience. If you are aware, you will observe that this process is taking place in you, and that your activities are being approximated to a standard, to an ideal. The complete approximation to an ideal is called success, fulfilment, happiness; but what one has really achieved is a rigidity, a complete isolation, a self-protection through escape into security, and so there is no comprehension of life, nor is there the cessation of ignorance with its sorrow and confusion. Question: What is the purpose of suffering? Is it to teach us not to repeat the same mistake? Krishnamurti: There is no purpose in suffering. Suffering exists because of the lack of comprehension. Most of us suffer economically, spiritually, or in our relationships with each other. Why is there this suffering? Economically, we have a system based on acquisitiveness, exploitation, fear; this system is being encouraged and maintained by our cravings and pursuits, and so it is self-sustaining. Acquisitiveness and a system of exploitation must go together, and they are ever present where there is ignorance of oneself. It is again a vicious circle; our craving has produced a system, and that system maintains itself by exploiting us. There is suffering in our relationships with others. It is created by an inner craving for comfort, security, possession. Then there is that suffering caused by profound uncertainty, which prompts us to find peace, security, reality, God. Craving certainty, we invent many theories, create many beliefs, and the mind becomes limited and enmeshed in them, overheated with them, and so it is incapable of adjusting itself to the movement of life. There are many kinds of suffering, and if you begin to discern their cause, you will perceive that suffering must coexist with the demand on the part of each individual to be secure, whether financially, spiritually, or in human relationship. Where there is a search for security, gross or subtle, there must be fear, exploitation and sorrow. Instead of comprehending the cause of sorrow, you ask what is its purpose. You want to utilize sorrow to gain something further. So you begin to invent the purpose; you say that sorrow is the result of a past life, it is the result of environment, and so on. These explanations satisfy you, so you continue in your ignorance, with the constant recurrence of sorrow. Suffering exists where there is ignorance of oneself. It is but an indication of limitation, of incompleteness. There is no remedy for suffering itself. In the discernment of the process of ignorance, suffering disappears. Question: Is it not true that good deeds are rewarded, and that by leading a kind and an upright life we will attain to happiness? Krishnamurti: Who rewards you? Reward in this world is called making a success of life, getting on the top, by exploiting people, being decorated by the government or by your party, and so on. And if you are denied this kind of reward, you want another kind, a spiritual reward - either discipleship from a Master, initiation, or a recognition for having done good in your past life. Do you seriously think that such a thing exists, except as a childish encouragement and impetus; that it has any validity? Are you kind and do you love because you are going to get a reward now or in a future life? You may laugh at this, but if you deeply examine and understand your motives and actions, you will perceive that they are tinged with this idea of reward and punishment. So our actions are never integral, complete and full. From this arise sorrow and conflict, and our lives become small, petty, and without any deep significance. If there is no reward or punishment, and so the utter freedom from fear, then what is the purpose of living? This would be the natural question you would ask, because you have been trained to think in terms of reward and punishment, achievement, competition, and all those quali- ties that make up what you consider to be human nature. When we understand profoundly, the significance of our existence, of the process of ignorance and action, we will see that what we call purpose has no significance. The mere search for the purpose of life covers up, detracts from the comprehension of oneself. Reward has no significance; it is merely a compensation for the effort you have put forth. All effort put forth in order to gain a reward, here or in the hereafter, leads to frustration, and reward becomes so much dust in your mouth. Question: Do you not consider philanthropy an important element in creating a new environment leading to human welfare? Krishnamurti: If we understand philanthropy to be the love of man and the effort to promote his happiness, then it will have value only in so far as we consider him as a unique individual and help him to realize that in his own hands lie his happiness and the welfare of the whole. But, I fear, this would not be considered as philanthropy; for most of us do not realize that we are unique, that the process of creating ignorance and sorrow lies within our own power, and that only through the comprehension of ourselves can there be freedom from them. If this is fully and deeply comprehended, then philanthropy will have significance. Charity merely becomes a compensation, and with it go all the subtle and gross exploitations to which man has become so accustomed. April 26, 1936 OJAI 5TH TALK IN THE OAK GROVE 3RD MAY, 1936 I wish to explain this morning one idea, and if we can grasp it, not so much as a fact, but deeply and significantly, I think then it will have a profound value in our lives. So please help me by thinking with me. Most of us have created a concept of reality, of immortality, of a constant, eternal something. We have a vague inclination to seek what we call God, truth, perfection, and we are constantly striving to realize these ideals, these conceptions. To help us to attain these objectives, we have systems, modes of conduct, disciplines, meditations and various aids. These include the paraphernalia of churches, ceremonies, and other forms of worship, and all these are supposed to help us to realize those conceptions of reality that we have created for ourselves. So we have set in motion the process of want. Now, there is in us a perpetual want, a continual striving after satisfaction which we call reality. We try to mould ourselves after a pattern, according to a particular system of conduct, of behaviour, which promises to give us the satisfying understanding of what we call reality, happiness. This want is quite different from search. Wanting indicates an emptiness, a trying to become something, whereas true search leads to deep comprehension. Before we can understand what is truth, reality, or know if there be such a thing, we must discern what it is that is constantly seeking. What is it that is ever in the movement of want? What is it that is ever craving, pursuing attainment? Until we have understood this, want is an endless process which prevents true discernment; it is a constant striving without understanding, a blind following, a ceaseless fear with its many illusions. So the question is not what is reality, God, immortality, and whether one should believe in it or not, but what is the thing that is striving, wanting, fearing and longing. What is it and why does it want? What is the centre in which this want has its being? What is the consciousness, the conception from which we start and in which we have our being? From this we must begin our inquiry. I am going to try to explain this process of want, which creates its own prison of ignorance; and please cross over the bridge of words, for the mere repetition of my phrases can have no lasting significance. This thing that is continually wanting is the consciousness which has become perceptible as the individual. That is, there is an "I" that is wanting. What is the "I"? There is a self-sustaining energy, a force which, through its development, becomes consciousness. This energy or force is unique to each living being. This consciousness becomes perceptible to the individual through the senses. It is at once both self-maintaining and self-energizing, if I may use those words. That is, it is not only maintaining, supporting itself through its own ignorance, tendencies, reactions, wants, but also by this process it is storing up its own potential energies; and this process can be fully comprehended by the individual only in his awakened discernment. You see something that is attractive, you want it, and you possess it. Thus there is set up this process of perception, want and acquisition. This process is ever self-sustaining. There is a voluntary perception, an attraction or repulsion, a clinging or a rejecting. The "I" process is thus self-active. That is, it is not only expanding itself by its own voluntary desires and actions, but it is maintaining itself through its own ignorance, tendencies, wants and cravings. The flame maintains itself through its own heat, and the heat itself is the flame. Now, exactly in the same way, the "I" maintains itself through want, tendencies and ignorance. And yet the "I" itself is want. The material for the flame may be a candle or a piece of wood, and the material for the "I" process is sensation, consciousness. This process is without a beginning, and is unique to each individual. Experiment with this and you will discern for yourself how real, how actual it is. There is no other thing but the "I", that "I" does not conceal anything, any reality. It is itself and maintains itself continually through its own voluntary demands and activities. So this process, this continual process of want, creates its own confusion, sorrows and ignorance. Where there is a want there cannot be discernment. That is very simple if one thinks it out. You crave for happiness. You look to the means of getting it. Someone offers you the means. Now, your mind-heart is so blinded by the intense desire for happiness that it is incapable of discernment. Though you may think that you are examining and analyzing the means that is offered to you, yet this deep craving for satisfaction, happiness, security, prevents clarity of comprehension. So where there is a want there cannot be true discernment. Through want we create confusion, ignorance and suffering, and then we set in movement the process of escape. This escape we call the search for reality. You say: I want to find God, I want to attain truth, liberation; I seek immortality. You never ask yourself what is the "I" that is seeking. You have taken for granted that the "I" is something enduring, a something in itself, and that it is created by some supreme entity. If you examine profoundly you will discern that the "I" is nothing but self- accumulated ignorance, tendencies, wants, and that it does not conceal anything in itself. Once you deeply grasp this, you will never ask: Must I get rid of all my wants? Must I have no beliefs? Must I have no ideals? Must I be without desires? Is it wrong to have any craving? To understand this whole process of the "I", requires on your part real thinking and deep penetration through discernment. If you comprehend the arising, the coming into being of consciousness through sensation, through want, and see that from consciousness there is born the unit called the "I", which in itself does not conceal any reality, then you will awaken to the nature of this vicious circle. When there is an understanding of its significance, then there is a new comprehension, a new something that is not entrammelled by want, by craving, by ignorance. Then you can live in this world intelligently, sanely, in deep fulfilment, and yet not be of the world. Confusion arises only when you are made incapable of adjustment by your fantastic and harmful conceptions, ideals and beliefs. If you can deeply comprehend this self-sustaining process of ignorance which gives a solidity to the "I", from which arise all confusion and suffering, then life can be lived fully, without the various subtle escapes and pursuits that, unknowingly, you have created for yourself. Then there comes into being that extraordinary something, a fullness, a bliss. But before this can take place, there must be a profound understanding of the "I" process; unless there is this comprehension, the "I" process is ever creating a duality in itself through want. When there is discernment, then the pursuit of virtue, the attempt to unify yourself with a reality, with God, loses its significance. To discern this process, there cannot be the acceptance of any belief, there cannot be the pursuit of any ideal or the moulding of yourself after a pattern of conduct. You must discern for yourself, deeply and significantly, the cause of this misery, confusion and ignorance, through the arising of the "I" process. Then there comes into being a bliss that has no words for its measure. Question: In ties of relationship, one may be compelled to do something which one does not care to do, by the very nature of the relationship. Do you think one can live completely in such ties? Krishnamurti: Before we can understand what it is to live fully, let us discover what we mean by relationship. Relationship is morality. Relationship implies a living contact, whether it be with the one or with the many. This relationship, this morality, becomes impossible when we, as individuals, are incapable of pliability. That is, if one is limited, limited through ignorance, tendencies, various forms of acquisition and want, there is a barrier, a hindrance which prevents living contact with another. As the other also has the same limitations, true relationship becomes almost impossible. Since there is not this living contact, we create a mode of conduct which we call morality, and try to force our behaviour to that morality, to that standard. If we understand relationship to be the true, profound comprehension of oneself, then we give to morality, to relationship, quite a different meaning. Most of us think there should be codes, systems, disciplines for morality. They may be necessary for those who are incapable of deep thought; but no one can judge who is incapable. Do not say such and such a one needs a code of discipline; one has to discover for oneself this active morality, this living relationship, and that demands deep, creative pliability, which can be experienced only when individual limitations are deeply discerned and their causes understood. When your life is one of acquisitiveness and of want, then there must be a continual tension with the other, who is also acquisitive, and this prevents true relationship, whether it be between individuals or nations. And this tension leads to conflicts, wars and the many gross and subtle forms of exploitation. If you are aware of your own particular demands, the many forms of acquisitiveness, and so comprehend the process of self-active ignorance, then there is no longer a choosing, a withholding, a rejecting, but these very cravings and wants wear themselves out, they drop off as leaves in the autumn. Then there can be true relationship, in which there is no longer the constant struggle to adjust oneself to another. Question: By meditating on the Master one may realize the bliss of conscious union with him. In that state, all sense of self disappears. Is this not of great value in breaking down the limitations of the ego? Krishnamurti: Certainly not. It can never be. The question is wrongly put. Let us go into it. First, let us understand what you mean by a Master. Unfortunately, a great many books have been written about Masters, initiations and discipleship, and many supposed spiritual societies have been formed around all this. There exist many swamis and yogis, who encourage and cultivate all these conceptions. You who are seeking satisfaction, which you call happiness, truth, become their tools and are exploited by these teachers, leaders, and their societies. A Master can be either a concept or an actuality. If it is a concept, a theory, it can never become dogmatic. Then it is open to speculation, to be discussed from the point of view of what is called evolution. So it must remain abstract and can never be used as an actuality for furthering certain activities, action, modes of conduct. Being an abstraction, it has not the stimulation of fear as reward and punishment. But this is not so with those who talk about the Masters and their work. They confuse the two, the abstract and the actual. One moment they talk about the abstract idea of Masters, and the next they make of them an actuality by telling you, the followers, what the Masters desire you to think and to do. So you are caught up in confusion, and curiously enough, it is your own wants that create this confusion. This process of making the Masters into actual entities comes slowly, through hints and messages, till you believe that your leaders have actually met the Masters, and that these beings have told them how to save humanity; and you, through so-called devotion, which is really fear, follow the leaders and are exploited. So there is a constant mingling of the conceptual and the concrete. Who is to judge what a Master is? To some, a Master is a person who possesses extraordinary powers, and to others he may be one who reveals some special knowledge. But wisdom is not realized through another, either through a Master or through a scientist. You are judging someone to be a Master according to your own particular idiosyncrasies, prejudices and tendencies. This must be so, even with those who are supposed to represent the Masters. People are always judging others, whether called Masters or neighbours, according to their own peculiar background. You never question the background of the person who says that he represents the Masters, that he is their messenger, because you are seeking happiness, and you merely want to be guided, to be told exactly what to do. So you obey through fear, which you call love, intuition, voluntary choice or loyalty. You think that you have examined, analyzed, understood, and that you intuitively agree with what your particular leaders say. But you cannot truly discern, for you are being carried away by your own intense wants. So, unfortunately, people in this country, and elsewhere, fall into this trap of exploitation. I do not want you to agree with me; but if, without any want, you examine this whole idea of a Master leading you to truth, then you will see how foolish it is. If you have somewhat grasped what I have explained about the process of the "I", then you will not meditate on a Master, either in the form of what you call a high ideal or a higher self, or as an image, graven in your mind through pictures and propaganda. Such forms of meditation become merely subtle escapes. Though you may have some kind of sensation out of it and marvel at it and be thrilled by it, you will find that it has no validity, but only leads to a rigidity of mind-heart. Meditation is constant awareness and pliability, not an adjustment to any standard or mode of conduct. Try to be aware of your own idiosyncrasies, fancies, reactions and wants in your daily life, and understand them; out of that comes the reality of fulfilment. For this deep comprehension there cannot be any system. No Master can ever give it to you or lead you to it. If one claims he can, he is not a Master. The process of self-active ignorance and its discernment is unique to yourself. Another cannot free you from it. Beware of him who offers to destroy for you the walls of your limitation. If you really comprehend this, you will see what a significant change takes place in your life. Being free of fear, of want, which is so often called love, devotion, you are no longer exploited by churches, by societies supposed to be religious and spiritual, by priests, by the so-called messengers of the Masters, and by the swamis and yogis. True meditation is the discernment of one's own unique process of creating and being caught in ignorance, and being aware of this process. Question: The economic system cannot change until human nature changes, and human nature will not change so long as the system exists and encourages human nature to remain as it is. How, then, will the break come? Krishnamurti: Do you think that this system has come into being spontaneously, of its own accord? It is created by human nature, as it is called. Human nature must first change and not the system. A system may help or hinder, but fundamentally the individual must begin to transform himself. Surely, if all of you really thought profoundly about the whole question of war, for example, this murder on a grand scale, this murder in uniform, with decorations, shouts of joy and praise, with trumpets and banners, with blessings from priests, if you thought and felt deeply about this and perceived its cruelty and infantile absurdities, its appalling maltreatment of man, forcing him to become a military machine through the many exploiting means of nationalism and so on - if you, as individuals, really perceived this horror, surely you would refuse to be used for furthering war and exploitation. You, as individuals, would not be used, exploited through propaganda. You, as individuals, would lose all sense of nationality. How are we going to change any exploiting system, economic, religious or social, unless we begin with ourselves, unless we see profoundly the necessity for such a change - not just for a moment, during this meeting, but continually in our daily lives? But when you feel the pressure of a system being exerted by your neighbour, by your bosses, by your employees, then it becomes very difficult for you to maintain this profound comprehension. So the mind-heart must perceive the utter necessity of freeing itself from its own apparently ceaseless wants. As this needs individual effort, which we dislike, we look to a system to help us out of this misery; we hope that a system will force us to behave decently and intelligently. That way leads to regimentation and greater misery, not to deep fulfilment. Unless you profoundly feel all this, and are making an effort to be free from your self-imposed limitations, the system will imprison you, the system will become a self-sustaining process. Though it is lifeless, it will be maintained by your unique individual energies. Here again there is a vicious circle. Want creates the system of exploitation, and the system maintains that want. So the individual is caught up in this machine, and he says: How am I to get out of it? He looks to others to lead him out of it, but he will be led only to another prison, to another system of exploitation. He himself, through his ignorance and its self-active process, has created the machine that holds him, and it is only through himself, through his own discernment of the process of the "I", that there can ever be true freedom and fulfilment. Question: In rare moments one is not conscious of oneself as a separate, thinking entity. However, most of the time one is conscious of oneself, and of presenting a resistance toward life. Please explain why there is this resistance. Krishnamurti: Isn't prejudice a resistance? Prejudice is so deep-rooted - the prejudice of class, nationality, religious and other forms of belief. Such tendencies are forms of the "I" process. Until we discern this process of creating beliefs, prejudices, tendencies, there must ever be resistance to life. For example, if you are a religious person and have a strong belief that there is immortality, this belief acts as a resistance to life and hinders the very understanding of immortality. This belief is continually strengthening the barrier, the resistance, because it has its foundation in want. You think that for you, the individual, there is a continuity, an abode where you will be safe forever. This belief may be subtle or gross, but in essence it is a craving for personal continuity. As the vast majority of people have this belief, when reality begins to show itself they are bound to reject it and therefore resist it, and such resistance creates conflict, misery and confusion. But you will not relinquish this idea of immortality, because it gives you hope, encouragement, the deep satisfaction of security. We have many prejudices, subtle and gross, and each individual, being unique, sustains his own ignorance through his volitional activities. If you do not comprehend fully, in all its entirety, this self-active ignorance, you are constantly creating barriers, resistances, and so increasing misery. So you must become aware of this process, and with that discernment there comes, not the development of an opposite, but the comprehension of reality. May 3, 1936 OJAI 6TH TALK IN THE OAK GROVE 10TH MAY, 1936 Some of you may think that I am repetitive, and I may be so, for the questions that have been sent in, the interviews and general conversations I have had with people, have given me the impression that there is little understanding of what I have been saying; and so I have to repeat the same thing in different words. I hope those of you who have more or less grasped the fundamental ideas will have the patience to listen again to what I have to say. There is so much suffering, in such a variety of ways, that one agonizes over it. This is not an empty phrase. One perceives so much exploitation and cruelty around one, that one is constantly asking oneself what is the cause of sorrow and by what means can it be dissipated. There are some who firmly believe that the misery of the world is the result of some evil misfortune beyond the control of man, and that happiness and freedom from sorrow can exist only in another world, when man returns to God. This attitude towards life is completely erroneous, from my point of view, for this chaos is of man's own making. To discern the process of suffering, each one must comprehend himself. To understand oneself is one of the most difficult tasks and demands the most strenuous effort and constant alertness, and very few have the inclination or the desire to comprehend deeply this process of suffering and sorrow. We have more opportunities to dissipate our energies through absurd amusements, futile conversations and vain pursuits, than to search out, to penetrate deeply into our own psychological demands, needs, beliefs and ideals. But this involves strenuous effort on our part, and as we do not wish to exert ourselves, we would rather escape into all manner of easy satisfactions. If we do not escape through diversions, we escape through beliefs, through the activities of organizations with their loyalties and commitments. These beliefs become a shield, preventing us from comprehending ourselves. Religious societies promise to help us to understand ourselves, but unfortunately we are exploited and we merely repeat their phrases and succumb to the authority of their leaders. So these organizations, with their increasing restrictions and secret promises, lead us away into further complications which make us incapable of understanding ourselves. Once we have committed ourselves to a particular society, to its leaders and their friends, we begin to develop those loyalties and responsibilities which prevent us from being wholly honest with ourselves. There are of course other forms of escape, through various superficial activities. To understand oneself profoundly, one needs balance. That is, one cannot abandon the world, hoping to understand oneself, or be so entangled in the world that there is no occasion to comprehend oneself. There must be balance, neither renunciation nor acquiescence. This demands alertness and deep awareness. We must learn to observe our actions, thoughts, ideals, beliefs, silently and without judgment, without interpreting them, so as to be able to discern their true significance. We must first be cognizant of our own ideals, pursuits, wants, without accepting or condemning them as being right or wrong. At present we cannot discern what is true and what is false, what is lasting and what is transient, because the mind is so crippled with its own self-created wants, ideals and escapes that it is incapable of true perception. So we must first learn to be silent and balanced observers of our limitations and frictions which cause sorrow. If you begin to observe, you will see that you are seeking new explanations, definitions, satisfactions, ideals, graphic images and pictures, as substitutes for the old. You accepted the old beliefs, explanations and pictures because they satisfied you; and now, through friction with life, you are finding out that they no longer give you what you crave. So you seek new explanations, new hopes, new ideals and escapes, but with the same background of want and satisfaction. Then you begin to compare the old explanations with the new, and choose those which give you the greatest security and contentment. You think that by accepting these new explanations and ideals, you will find happiness and peace. As your demand is for contentment and satisfaction, you help to create and accept beliefs and explanations that fulfil your want, and then you begin to shape your thought and conduct according to these new moulds. If you observe, you will perceive that this is so. As there is so much suffering, both within and without, you desire to know the cause, but you are easily satisfied with explanations and you continue to suffer. Explanations are as so much dust to a discerning mind. Some of you believe in the idea of reincarnation. You come and ask me what I believe, whether reincarnation is a fact or not, whether I remember my past lives, and so on. Now, why do you ask me? Why do you want to know what I think about it? You want a further confirmation of your own belief, which you call a fact, a law, because it gives you a hope, a purpose in life. Thus belief becomes to you a fact, a law, and you go about seeking confirmation of your hope. Even though I may confirm it, it cannot be of vital importance to you. Whatever it may be to me, real or false, what is important for you is that you should discern for yourself these conceptions, through action, through living, and not accept any assertions. There are three conditions of mind: "I know", "I believe", and "I do not know." When you say, "I know", you mean you know through experience, and through that experience you become certain and convinced of an idea, a belief. But that certainty, that conviction may be based on imagination, on a wish-fulfilment, which to you gradually becomes a fact, and so you say, "I know." Some say reincarnation is a fact, and to them perhaps it is so, as they say they can see their past lives; but to you who crave for continuity, reincarnation gives hope and purpose, and so you cling to the idea, saying that it is your intuition that prompts you to accept it as a fact, as a law. You accept the idea of rebirth on the assertion of another, without ever questioning his knowledge, which may be imagination, hallucination, or the projection of a wish. Craving self-perpetuation, immortality, you become incapable of true discernment. If you do not say, "I know", you then say, "I believe in reincarnation because it explains the inequalities of life." Again, this belief, which you say is prompted by intuition, is the outcome of a hidden hope and craving for continuity. Thus both the "I know" and "I believe" are insecure, uncertain and not to be relied on. But if you can say, "I do not know", fully comprehending its significance, then there is a possibility of perceiving that which is. To be in a state of not knowing demands great denudation and strenuous effort, but it is not a negative state; it is a most vital and earnest state for the mind-heart that does not grasp at explanations and assertions. One can casually and easily say that one does not know, and most people say it. One hears and reads so much about the cause of suffering, that unconsciously one begins to accept this explanation and reject that, according to the dictates of satisfaction and hope. As most people have minds cluttered up with beliefs, prejudices, hidden hopes and demands, it is almost impossible for them to say, "I do not know." They are so bound to certain beliefs by their inner longings, that they are never in a state of complete bankruptcy. They are never in that state of utter denudation when all the supports, explanations, hopes, influences have completely ceased. We begin to discern what is true only when all want has ceased, for want creates beliefs, ideals, hopes, which are mere escapes. When the mind is no longer seeking security in any form, or demanding explanations, or relying on subtle influences, then, in that state of nakedness, there is the real, the permanent. If the mind is able to discern that it is creating its own ignorance through craving and perpetuating itself through its own action of want, then consciousness changes to reality. Then there is permanency, then there is the ending of the transiency of consciousness. Consciousness is the action or friction between ignorance and the external provocations of life, of the world, and this consciousness, this strife and sorrow, is self-perpetuating through want, through craving, which creates its own ignorance. Question: Please explain more clearly what you mean by pliability of mind. Krishnamurti: Is it not necessary to have a supple, alert mind? Must not one have a mind that is supremely pliable? Must not the mind be like a tree, that has its roots deep in the earth, yet yields to passing winds? It is itself, and so it can be pliable. Now, with what are we occupied? We are trying to become something, and we glory in that becoming. That becoming is not fulfilment but imitation, the copying of a pattern of what is called perfection; it is a following, obeying, in order to achieve, to succeed. That is not fulfilment. A rose or a violet that is lovely is a perfect flower, and that in itself is fulfilment; it would be vain to wish that a violet could be as the rose. We are making constant effort to be something, and so the mind-heart becomes more and more rigid, limited, narrow, and incapable of deep pliability. So it creates further resistances for self-protection against the movement of life. Those self-created resistances prevent the mind-heart from comprehending its own activities which engender and increase ignorance. Pliability of mind is not in becoming something, in worshipping success, but it is known when the mind denudes itself of those resistances which it has brought into being through craving. This is true fulfilment. In that fulfilment there is the eternal, the permanent, the ever pliable. Question: I know all my limitations, but they stay with me still. So what do you mean by bringing the subconscious into the conscious? Krishnamurti: Sir, merely to know one's limitations is surely not enough, is it? Haven't you to discern their significance? I have said for many years that certain things are limitations, and you may perhaps be repeating my words without deeply understanding them, and then you say, "I know all my limitations." The strenuous awareness of your own limitations brings about their dissipation. Ceremonies, as other perversions of thought, are to me limitations. Suppose you agree, and you want to discover if your mind is held in these limitations. Begin to be aware of them, not by judging, but by silently observing and discerning whether certain reactions are harmful, limited. That very discernment, that awareness itself, without creating an opposite quality, dislodges from the mind those resistances and harmful restrictions. When you ask, "How am I to get rid of my limitations?" it indicates that you are not aware of them, that there is not a strenuous effort to discern. There is a joy in this strenuous awareness, in the struggle itself. Awareness has no reward. Question: I have listened to your talks for several years, but to be frank, I have not yet grasped what you are trying to convey. Your words have always seemed vague to me, whereas the writings of H. P. Blavatsky, Rudolf Steiner, Annie Besant, and a few others, have greatly helped me. Is it not that there are different ways of presenting truth, and that your way is the way of the mystic as distinct from that of the occultist? Krishnamurti: I have answered this question I do not know how often, but if you wish I shall answer it again. Any explanation, any measure of truth must be erroneous. Truth is to be comprehended, to be discerned, not to be explained. It is, but is not to be sought after. So there cannot be one way or many ways of presenting truth. That which is presented as truth is not truth. But then you can ask me: What are you trying to do? If you are not giving us a graphic picture of truth, measuring for us the immeasurable, then what are you doing? All that I am trying to do is to help you to discern for yourself that there is no salvation outside of yourself, that no Master, no society, can save you; that no church, no ceremony, no prayer can break down your self-created limitations and restrictions; that only through your own strenuous awareness is there the comprehension of the real, the permanent; and that your mind is so cluttered up, so overheated with beliefs, ideals, wants and hopes, that it is incapable of perception. Surely this is simple, clear and definite; it is not vague. Each one, through his own want, is creating ignorance, and that ignorance, through its volitional activities, is perpetuating itself as individuality, as the "I" process. I say that the "I" is ignorance, it has no reality, nor does it conceal anything permanent. I have said this often and explained it in many ways, but some of you do not want to think clearly, and so you cling to your hopes and satisfactions. You want to avoid deep strenuousness; you hope that through the effort of another your conflicts, miseries and sorrows will be dissipated, and you wish that the exploiting organizations, whether religious or social, would be miraculously changed. If you make an effort you want a result, which excludes comprehension. Then you say: What is the point of making an effort if I don't get something out of it? Your effort, through want, creates further limitations which destroy comprehension. The mind is caught up in this vicious circle, effort through want, which maintains ignorance; and so the "I" process becomes self-sustaining. The people who have gathered money, properties, qualities, are rigid in their acquisition and are incapable of deep comprehension. They are slaves to their own want, which creates a system of exploitation. If you give thought to it, it is not difficult to understand this, but to comprehend it through action demands strenuous effort. To some of you, what I say is empty and meaningless; to others, coming to these meetings is a habit; and a few are vitally concerned. Some of you take one or two statements of mine, separate them from their contexts, and try to work them into your own particular system. In this there is no comprehension, and it will only lead to further confusion. Question: Since the Masters founded the Theosophical Society, how can you say that spiritual societies are a hindrance to man's understanding? Or does this not apply to the Theosophical Society? Krishnamurti: That is what every society, sect, or religious body declares. Roman Catholics have maintained for centuries that they are the direct representatives of the Christ. And other religious sects have similar assertions, only they use different names. Either their teaching is inherently true in itself, and so does not need the support of any authority, however great it is; or it can stand only because of authority. If it stands on any authority, whether of the Buddha, the Christ, or the Masters, then it has no significance. Then it merely becomes the means of exploiting people through their fears. This is constantly happening the world over: the use of authority to coerce people through their fear - which is called love or respect for a particular form of activity - or to found a religious organization. And you who want happiness, security, follow without thought and are exploited. You do not question the whole conception of authority. You submit yourself to authority, to exploitation, thinking that it will lead you to reality; but only greater confusion and misery await you. This question of authority is so subtle that the individual deceives himself by saying that it is his own voluntary choice to submit himself to a particular form of belief or action. Where there is want, there must be fear and the creation of authority with its cruelties and exploitation. I have repeated this in different words very often. Some have come and told me that they have resigned from this or that organization. Surely that is not the most important thing, though resignation must necessarily follow if there is comprehension. What is important is: Why did they join at all? If they can discover the impulse that drives them to join these religious sects, groups, and discern the deep significance of that impulse, then they will themselves abstain from joining any religious organization. If you analyze that urge, you will perceive fundamentally that where there is a promise of security and happiness, the desire for these is so great that it blinds comprehension, discernment; and authority is worshipped as a means to the satisfaction of the many cravings. Question: Are you, or are you not, a member of the Great White Lodge of Adepts and Initiates? Krishnamurti: Sir, what does it matter? I am afraid this country, and especially this Coast, is inundated with this kind of mystery, which is used to exploit people through their credulity and fear. There are so many swamis, both white and brown, who tell you about these things. What does it seriously matter whether there is a White Lodge or not? And who talks or writes about these mysteries except those who, consciously or unconsciously, wish to exploit man in the name of brotherhood, love and truth? Beware of such people. They have set going incredible and harmful superstitions. Often I have heard people say that they are guided by Masters who send out forces, and so on. Don't you know, cannot you perceive for yourself that you are your own master, that you create your own ignorance, your own sorrow, that no other can by any means free you from suffering, now or ever? If you discern this fundamental fact, truth, law, that you create your own limitation and sorrow, that you yourself help to bring about a system which exploits man ruthlessly, and that out of your own inner demands, fears and wants, are created religious and other organizations for cunning exploitation, then you will no longer encourage or help to create these systems. Then authority ceases to have any significant position in life; then only can man come to his own true fulfilment. This demands a tremendous self-reliance. But you say: We are weak and must be led; we must have nurses. Thus you continue the whole process of superstition and exploitation. If you will discern deeply that ignorance is perpetuating itself through its own action, then there will be a profound change in your relationship to life. But I assure you, this demands a deep comprehension of yourself. May 10, 1936 OJAI 7TH TALK IN THE OAK GROVE 17TH MAY, 1936 One must have often asked oneself if there is a something within us that has continuance, a living principle that has a permanency, a quality that is enduring, a reality that persists through all this transiency. In my talk this morning I shall try to explain what lies behind this desire for continuance, and consider whether there is really anything that has a permanency. I would suggest that you kindly listen to what I say, with critical thought and discernment. Life is every moment in a state of being born, arising, coming into being. In this arising, coming into being, in this itself there is no continuity, nothing that can be identified as permanent. Life is in constant movement, action; each moment of this action has never been before, and will never be again. But each new moment forms a continuity of movement. Now, consciousness forms its own continuity as an individuality, through the action of ignorance, and clings, with desperate craving, to this identification. What is that something to which each one clings, hoping that it may be immortal, or that it may conceal the permanent, or that beyond it may lie the eternal? This something that each one clings to is the consciousness of individuality. This consciousness is composed of many layers of memories, which come into being, or remain present, where there is ignorance, craving, want. Craving, want, tendency in any form, must create conflict between itself and that which provokes it, that is, the object of want; this conflict between craving and the object craved appears in consciousness as individuality. So it is this friction, really, that seeks to perpetuate itself. What we intensely desire to have continue is nothing but this friction, this tension between the various forms of craving and their provoking agents. This friction, this tension, is that consciousness which sustains individuality. The movement of life has no continuity. It is at every moment arising, coming into being, and so is in a state of perpetual action, flow. When one craves for one's own immortality, one must discern what is the deep significance of this craving and what it is that one desires to continue. Continuity is the self-maintaining process of consciousness, from which arises individuality, through ignorance, which is the outcome of want, craving; from this there is friction and conflict in relationship, morality and action. The "I" process that seeks to perpetuate itself is nothing but accumulated craving. This accumulation and its memories make up individuality, to which we cling and which we crave to immortalize. The many layers of accumulated memories, tendencies and wants make up the "I" process; and we demand to know whether that "I" can live forever, whether it can be made immortal. Can these self-protective memories become or be made permanent? Or, running through them like a solid cord, is there the permanent? Or, beyond this "I" process of friction, limitation, is there the eternal? We desire to make the accumulated limitations permanent, or we think that through these layers of memories, of consciousness, there exists a something that is everlasting. Or else we imagine that beyond these limitations of individuality there must be the eternal. Again, can the memories of accumulated ignorance, wants, tendencies, from which arise friction and sorrow, be made to last? That is the question. We cannot deeply accept that there is running through individuality something which is eternal, or that beyond this limitation there is something permanent, for this conception can only be based on belief, faith, or on what is called intuition, which is almost always a wishfulfilment. From our inclinations, hopes and cravings for self-perpetuation, we accept theories, dogmas, beliefs, which give us the assurance of self-continuity. Nevertheless, deep uncertainty continues, and from this we try to escape by searching for certainty, by piling belief upon belief, by going from one system to another, by following one teacher after another, thereby merely increasing confusion and conflict. Now, I do not want to create further beliefs or systems: I want to help you to discern for yourself whether there is continuity and understand its significance. So, the important question is: Can the "I" process be made permanent? Can the consciousness of tendencies, wants and accumulated memories, from which arises individuality, be made permanent? In other words, can these limitations become the eternal? Life, energy, is in a perpetual state of action, movement, in which there can be no individual continuity. But, as individuals, we crave to perpetuate ourselves; and when you deeply discern what is individuality, you will perceive that it is nothing but the result of ignorance, maintaining itself through the many layers of memories, tendencies and wants. These limitations must inevitably cause sorrow and confusion. Can these limitations, which we can call individuality, be made permanent? This is really what most people are seeking when they desire immortality, reality, God. They are deeply concerned with the perpetuation of their own individuality. Can limitation be made eternal? The answer is obvious. If one deeply discerns its obvious transiency, then there is a possibility of realizing the permanent, and in this alone there is true relationship, morality. Now, if one can deeply discern the arising of the "I" process and become strenuously aware of the building up of limitations and their transiency, then that very awareness brings about their dissolution; and in that there is the permanent. The quality of this permanency cannot be described, nor can one search it out. It comes into being with the discernment of the transient process of the "I." The reality of the permanent can only happen, take place, and is not to be cultivated. One is either seeking the permanent, something that is enduring, beyond oneself, or one is trying to make oneself into the permanent. Both these conceptions are erroneous. If you are seeking the eternal beyond yourself, then you are bound to create and be caught up in illusions, which will only offer you means of escape from actuality, and in this there cannot be the comprehension of what is. The individual must be cognizant of himself, and in knowing himself, he will then be able to discern whether there is permanency or not. Our search for the eternal must lead us to illusion; but if, through strenuous effort and experiment, we can comprehend ourselves deeply and discern what we are, then only can there be the arising of the permanent - not the permanency of something outside of ourselves, but that reality which comes into being when the transient process of the "I" no longer perpetuates itself. To many, what I say will remain a theory, it will be vague and uncertain; but if you will discern its validity or accept it as an hypothesis, not as a law or as a dogma, then you can comprehend its active significance in daily life. Our morality, conduct, concepts and longings are based fundamentally on the desire for self-perpetuation. The self is but the result of accumulated memories, which causes friction between itself and the movement of life, between the definite and the indefinite values. This friction itself is the "I" process, and it cannot be made into the eternal. If we can grasp this fundamentally, fully, then our whole attitude and effort will have a different significance and purpose. There are two kinds of will - the will that is born out of desire, want, craving, and the will that is of discernment, comprehension. The will that is the outcome of desire is based on the conscious effort of acquisition, whether the acquisition of want or the acquisition of non-want. This conscious or unconscious effort of wanting, craving, creates the whole process of the "I", and from that arise friction, sorrow, and the consideration of the hereafter. From this process arises also the conflict between the opposites, and so the constant battle between the essential and the inessential, choice and choicelessness. And from this process there arise the various self-protective walls of limitation, which prevent the real comprehension of indefinite values. Now if we are aware of this process, aware that we have developed a will through the desire to acquire, to possess, and that that will is creating a continual conflict, suffering, pain, then there takes place, without conscious effort, the comprehension of reality which may be called the permanent. To discern that want is present where there is ignorance and so brings about suffering, and yet not to let the mind train itself not to want, is a most strenuous and difficult task. We can discern that to possess, to acquire, creates suffering and perpetuates ignorance, that the movement of craving prevents clear discernment. If you think about it, you will perceive that this is so. When there is neither want nor non-want, there is then the comprehension of what is the permanent. This is a most difficult and subtle state to comprehend; it requires strenuous and right effort not to be caught between the opposites, renouncing and accepting. If we are able to discern that opposites are erroneous, that they must lead to conflict, then that very discernment, that very awareness, brings about enlightenment. To talk about this is very difficult, as whatever symbol one may use must awaken in the mind a concept, which has in it the opposite. But if we can discern fully that we, through our own ignorance, create sorrow, then there is not the setting up of the process of the opposite. To discern demands right effort, and only in this right effort is there the comprehension of the permanent. Question: All intelligent people are against war, but are you against defensive war, as when a nation is attacked? Krishnamurti: To consider war as defensive and offensive will lead us only to further confusion and misery. What we should question is killing, whether in war or through exploitation. What is, after all, a defensive war? Why does one nation attack another? Probably the nation that is attacked has provoked that attack through economic exploitation and greed. If we deal with the question of war as defensive or offensive, we shall never come to any satisfactory and true solution. We shall be dealing only with acquisitive prejudices. There is such a thing as voluntarily dying for a cause; but that a group of people should send out other human beings to be trained to kill and be killed, is most barbarous and inhuman. You will never ask this question about war - in which there is the regimentation of hatred, mechanizing man through military discipline - and whether it is right to kill in defence or in aggression, if you can discern for yourself the true nature of man. From my point of view, to kill is fundamentally evil, as it is evil to exploit another. Most of you are horrified at the idea of killing; but when there is the provocation, you are up in arms. This provocation comes through propaganda, through the appeal to your false emotions of nationalism, family, honour and prestige, which are words without deep significance. They are but absurdities to which you have become accustomed, and through which you exploit and are exploited. If you think about this deeply and truly, then you will help to break down all these causes that create hatred, exploitation, and ultimately lead to war, whether called offensive or defensive. You seem to feel no vital response to all this. Some of you, being trained in religion, probably often repeat the phrase that one must love one's neighbour. But against others you have such deep rooted prejudices of nationalism and of racial distinctions that you have lost the human and affectionate response. One is so proud of being an American or belonging to some particular race, the class and racial distinction is so falsely and ruthlessly stimulated in each one of us, that one despises foreigners, Jews, Negroes, or Asiatics. Until we are free of these absurd and childish prejudices, wars of various kinds will exist. If you who listen with discernment to these talks, feel and act with comprehension and so free yourselves from those limiting, harmful and mischievous ideas, then there is a possibility of having a peaceful and happy world. That is not mere sentiment; but as this question of exploitation and killing concerns each one of you, you have to make strenuous efforts to free your mind from these self-imposed ideas of security and individual perpetuation, which create confusion and misery. Question: Must we not have some idea of what is pure action? Merely becoming aware, even profoundly aware, seems to be a negative state of consciousness. Is not positive consciousness essential for pure action? Krishnamurti: You want me to describe to you what is pure action; such a description you would call a positive teaching. Pure action is to be discerned by each one, individually, and there cannot be a substitution of the true in place of the false. Discernment of the false brings about true action. Mere substitution or having a notion of pure action must inevitably lead to imitation, frustration, and to the many practices that destroy true intelligence. But if you discern your own limitations, then out of that comprehension will come positive action. If you experiment with this, you will see that it is not a negative attitude towards life; on the contrary, the only positive way of living, fulfilling, is to discern the process of ignorance, which must be present where there is craving, and from which arise sorrow and confusion. The mind seeks a definition with which to make a mould for itself in order to escape from those reactions which cause friction and pain. In this there is no comprehension. I have said this very often. Inwardly the "I" process, with its demands, cravings, vanities and cruelties, persists and continues. Through the comprehension of this process - not that it may bring you reward, happiness, but for itself - lies true and clear action. Question: You have said that so-called spiritual organizations are obstacles to one's attainment of spirituality. But, after all, do not all obstacles that prevent the attainment of spiritual life lie within oneself, and not in outward circumstances? Krishnamurti: Most of us turn to so-called spiritual organizations because they promise rewards; and as most of us are seeking spiritual, emotional or mental security and comfort, in one form or another, we succumb to their promises and become instruments of exploitation and are exploited. To discover for yourself whether you are caught in this self-created prison, and to be free of its subtle influences, demands great discernment and right effort. These organizations come into being and exist because of our craving for our own egotistic spiritual well-being, and our continuity and comfort. Such organizations have nothing spiritual about them, nor can they free man from his own ignorance, confusion and sorrow. Question: If we are not to have ideals, if we must be rid of the desire to improve ourselves, to serve God and our less fortunate fellow-beings, what then is the purpose of living? Why not just die and be done with it? Krishnamurti: What I have said concerning ideals is this: that they become a convenient means of escape from the conflict of life, and thus they prevent the comprehension of oneself. I have never said that you must not help your less fortunate fellow-beings. Now, ideals act merely as standards of measure; and as life defies measurement, mind must free itself from ideals so that it may comprehend the movement of life. Ideals are impediments, hindrances. Instead of merely accepting what I say and therefore saying to yourself that you must not have ideals, discern for yourself whether they do not cloud your comprehension. When the mind frees itself from preconceptions, explanations and definitions, then it is able to confront the cause of its own suffering, its own ignorance and its own limited existence. So the mind must be concerned with suffering itself, and not with what it can get out of life. The mere pursuit of ideals, the craving for happiness, the search for truth, God, is an indication of escape from the movement of life. Do not concern yourself with what is the object of living, but become aware and discern the cause of suffering; and in the dissolution of that cause there is the comprehension of what is. Question: Will you please explain what you mean by the statement that even keeping accounts can be creative? Most of us think that only constructive work is creative. Krishnamurti: Isn't it a matter of how you regard work, whether it is bookkeeping, tilling the ground, writing books, or painting pictures? To a man who is lazy and uninterested, all work becomes uncreative. Why ask what is and what is not creative work, whether painting a picture is more creative than typewriting? To fulfil is to be intelligent; and to awaken intelligence, there must be right effort. This strenuousness cannot be artificial; living must not be divided into work and inward realization. Working and inward life must be united. The very joy of right effort opens the door to intelligence. The discernment of the "I" process is the beginning of fulfilment. May 17, 1936 OJAI 8TH TALK IN THE OAK GROVE 24TH MAY, 1936 Question: Can we stop war by praying for peace? Krishnamurti: I do not think that war can be stopped by prayer. Isn't praying for peace merely a particular form of emotional release? We think that we are incapable of preventing war and so we find in prayer a release from this horror. Do you think that by merely praying for peace you are going to stop violence in the world? Prayer only becomes an escape from actuality. That emotional state which results in prayer can also be worked upon by propagandists for the purposes of war, hatred. As one eagerly prays for peace, so, equally enthusiastically, one is persuaded about the beauties of nationalism and the necessity of war. Prayer for peace is utterly useless. The causes of war are manufactured by man, and it is of no value to appeal to some outside force for peace. War exists because of psychological and economic reasons. Until those causes are fundamentally altered, war will exist, and praying for peace is of no value. Question: How can I live simply and fully if I have to analyze myself and make conscious effort to think deeply? Krishnamurti: To live simply is the greatest of arts. It is most difficult, as it demands deep intelligence and not the superficial comprehension of life. To live intelligently and simply, one must be free of all those restrictions, resistances, limitations, which each individual has developed for his own self-protection and which have hindered his true relationship with society. Because he is enclosed within these restrictions, these walls of ignorance, for him there can be no true simplicity. To bring about a life of intelligence, and so of simplicity, there must be the tearing down of those resistances and limitations. The process of dissolution implies great thought, activity and effort. A man who is prejudiced, nationalistic, bound by the authority of traditions and concepts, and in whose heart there is fear, surely cannot live simply. A man who is ambitious, narrow, worshipping success, cannot live intelligently. In such a person there is no possibility of deep spontaneity. Spontaneity is not mere superficial reaction; it is deep fulfilment, which is intelligent simplicity of action. Now, most of us have walls of self-protective resistance against the movement of life; of some we are conscious, of others we are not. We think that we can live simply by merely avoiding or neglecting the undiscovered ones; or we think that we can live fully by training our minds to certain standards of life. It is not simplicity to live by oneself, apart from society, or to possess little, or to adjust oneself to particular principles. This is merely an escape from life. True simplicity of intelligence, that is, the deep adjustment to the movement of life, comes only when, through comprehensive awareness and right effort, we begin to wear down the many layers of self-protective resistance. Then only is there a possibility of living spontaneously and intelligently. Question: What is your idea of ambition? Is it ego-inflation? Is not ambition essential for action and achievement? Krishnamurti: Ambition is not fulfilment. Ambition is ego-inflation. In ambition there is the idea of personal achievement ever in opposition to the achievement of another; there is the worship of success, ruthless competition, the exploitation of another. In the wake of ambition there is constant dissatisfaction, destruction and emptiness; for in the very moment of success there is a withering, and so a renewed urge for further achievements. When you deeply discern that ambition has within it this constant struggle and strife, then you comprehend what is fulfilment. Fulfilment is the fundamental expression of what is true. But often a superficial reaction is mistaken for fulfilment. Fulfilment is not for the few alone, but it demands deep intelligence. In ambition there is an objective and the drive towards its achievement, but fulfilment is the intelligent process of completeness. The comprehension of fulfilment involves continual adjustment, and the re-education of our whole social being. Where there is ambition, there is also the search after rewards from governments, churches or society, or there is the desire for the rewards of virtue with its consolations. In fulfilment the idea of reward and punishment has utterly disappeared, for all fear has wholly ceased. Experiment with what I am saying and discern for yourself. Your present life is involved with ambition, not with fulfilment. You are trying to become something instead of being aware of those limitations which prevent true fulfilment. Ambition holds within it deep frustration, but in fulfilment there is bliss. Question: I belong to one of the religious societies and I want to withdraw from it, but I have been warned by one of its leaders that if I left it, the Master would no longer help me. Do you think that the Master would really do this to me? Krishnamurti: You know, this is the whip of fear which all religious societies use to control man. They first promise a reward, here or in heaven, and when the individual begins to comprehend the foolishness of the idea of reward and punishment, he is grossly or subtly threatened. Because you crave for happiness, security, and for what is called truth - and this is really an escape from actuality - you create and play into the hands of exploiters. The churches and other religious bodies have throughout the ages threatened man for his independent thought and fulfilment. It is not principally the fault of the exploiters. The organizations and their leaders are created by their followers, and so long as you want those mysterious aids and depend on authority for your own righteous effort, conduct, and inward richness, these and other forms of threats will be used, and you will be exploited. Some people, I see, laugh easily at this question, but I am afraid they too are involved in this process of reward and punishment. They may not belong to any religious society, but they perhaps seek their rewards from governments, from their neighbours, or from the immediate circle of their friends and relatives. Thus, through their craving, subtly or unconsciously, they are engendering fear and illusions which create an easy path to exploitation. You know, this idea of following a Master is utterly erroneous and wholly unintelligent. I have recently and very often explained the folly of this idea of being guided, of worshipping authority, but apparently the questioner and others do not understand its deep significance. If they would try to discern, without prejudice, they would perceive the great harm that lies in this conception. Discernment alone can free them from the bondage of their habitual thought. Romanticism and escapes are offered by churches and religious bodies, and you get caught up in them. But when you discover their utter valuelessness, you find that you have involved and committed yourself financially and psychologically, and instead of giving up these absurdities, you try to find excuses for your beliefs and commitments. Thus you encourage and maintain a whole system of exploitation, with its cruel stupidities. Unless you discern fundamentally that no one can truly free you from your own ignorance and its self-sustaining activities, you become entrammelled in these organizations, and fear, with its many illusions and sorrows, continues. Where there is fear, there must be subtle and gross forms of exploitation and suffering. Question: You have many interpreters, and associates of your youth, who are creating confusion in our minds by saying that you have a purpose - well known to them but not disclosed by you to the public. These individuals claim to know special facts about you, your ideas and work. I sometimes have a feeling from their words that they are really antagonistic to you and to your ideas, but they profess a warm friendship towards you. Am I mistaken in this, or are they exploiting you to justify their own actions, and the organizations to which they belong? Krishnamurti: Why do these interpreters exist? What is it that is so difficult in what I am saying that you cannot understand it for yourself? You turn to interpreters and commentators because you do not want to think fully, deeply. As you look to others to lead you out of your trouble, out of your confusion, you are bound to create authorities, interpreters, who only further confuse your own thought. Then after being confounded, you put this question to me. You yourself are creating these interpreters and allowing yourself to become confused. Now, with regard to past associates, I am afraid they and I have parted company long ago. There are some immediate friends who are working with me and helping me, but the associates of my youth, as they call themselves, are of the past. Deep friendship and co-operation can exist only where there is true comprehension. How can there be true co-operation and the action of friendship between a man who thinks authority is necessary, and a man who considers authority to be pernicious? How can there be companionship between a man who thinks that exploitation is a part of human nature, and another who maintains that it is ugly and wicked; between a man who is bound by beliefs, theories and dogmas, and a man who discerns their fallacy? How can there be any work common to a man who is creating and encouraging neuroticism, and a man who is attempting to destroy its cause? I have no private teaching; I have no private classes. What I say here to the public, I repeat in my conversations and interviews with individuals. But these self-styled associates and interpreters have their own axes to grind, and you like to be ground. You may laugh, but this is just what is happening. You listen to me, and then you go back to your leaders to interpret for you what I have said. You don't consider what I say and think it out fully by yourself. Surely, to think about what I am saying, for yourself, would be more direct and clear. But when you begin to think for yourself clearly, directly, action must follow; and to avoid drastic action, you turn to your leaders, who help you not to act. And so, through your own desire, by not acting clearly, you maintain these interpreters with their positions, authorities, and their systems of exploitation. What profoundly matters is that you free yourself from beliefs and dogmas and limitations, so that you can live without conflict with another individual, with society. True relationship, morality, is possible only when barriers and resistances are entirely dissolved. Question: If the whole process of life is self-acting energy, as I understand from your previous talk, that energy, judging from its creations, must be super-intelligent, far beyond human comprehension. What part, then, does the human intellect play in life's process? Would it not be better to let that creative energy work in us and through us, and not interfere with it by means of our human intellect? In other words, "Let go and let God", as Father Divine says. Krishnamurti: I am afraid the questioner has not understood what I have been saying. I have said that there is energy, force, unique to each individual. I have not qualified it; I have not said that it is superintelligent or divine. I have said that through its own self-acting development, it creates its own substance. Through its own ignorance it is creating for itself limitation and sorrow. There is no question of letting something super-intelligent act through its creation, the individual. There is only consciousness, as the individual, and consciousness is created through that friction between ignorance, craving, and the object of its want. When you consider this, you will discern that you are wholly responsible for your thoughts and actions, and that there is not something else acting through you. If you regard yourself and other human beings as merely instruments in the hands of other energies and forces unknown to you, then I fear you will be a plaything of illusions and deceptions, confusion and sorrow. How can a superior force or intelligence act through a man whose mind-heart is limited, crooked? You know, this is a most fallacious idea that we have developed in order not to delve into ourselves and discover our own being. To know ourselves needs constant thought and effort, but few of us are eager to discern, so we vainly try to make ourselves into convenient instruments for some super-intelligence, God. This conception in various forms exists throughout the world. If you really think about it fundamentally you will see that, if it were true, the world would not be in this unintelligent, chaotic condition of hatred and misery. We have created this confusion and sorrow through ignorance of ourselves, through craving, and through the resistances of self-protection, and we alone can break down these limitations and barriers which cause misery, hatred, and the lack of adjustment to the action of life. As this is my last talk here, I should like to make a brief resume of what I have been saying during the past few weeks. Those of you who are really interested can think about it and experiment with it and prove its truth for yourselves, so that you do not follow anyone, any dogma, any explanation, any theory. Out of discernment will come comprehension and bliss. There is contradiction of ideas, of theories, there is confusion created through constant assertions by leaders, of what is and what is not. Some say there is God, some say there is not; some maintain that the individual lives after death; the spiritists claim to have proved for themselves that there is a continuance of the individual mind; others say that there is only annihilation. Some believe in reincarnation, and others deny it. There is the piling up of theory upon theory, uncertainty upon uncertainty, assertion upon assertion. The result of all this is that one is wholly uncertain; or else one is so hedged about, bound by particular concepts and forms of belief, that one refuses to consider what is really true. Either you are uncertain, confused, or you are certain in your own belief, in your own particular form of thought. Now, for a man who is truly uncertain, there is hope; but for a man who is entrenched in belief, in what he calls intuition, there is very little hope, for he has closed the door upon uncertainty, doubt, and takes rest and consolation in security. Most of you who come here are, I think, uncertain, confused, and so deeply desire to comprehend what is actuality, what is truth. Uncertainty engenders fear, which gives rise to depression and anxiety. Then, consciously or unconsciously, one sets about escaping from these fears and their consequences. Observe your own thoughts, and you will perceive this process at work. As you crave to be certain of the purpose of life, of the hereafter, of God, you begin to be aware of your desires, and through this inquiry there comes doubt, uncertainty. Then that very uncertainty, doubt, creates fear, loneliness, emptiness about you and in you. This is a necessary state for the mind to be in, for then it is willing to face and comprehend actuality. But the suffering involved in this process is so great that the mind seeks shelter and creates for itself what it calls intuitions, concepts, beliefs, and clings to them desperately, hoping for certainty. This process of escape from actuality, from uncertainty, must lead to illusion, abnormality, neurosis and unbalance. Even though you accept these intuitions, beliefs, and take shelter in them, yet if you examine yourself deeply you will see that there is still fear, for uncertainty continues. This vital state of uncertainty, without the desire to escape from it, is the beginning of all true search for reality. What is it that you are really seeking? There can be only a state of comprehension, a direct perception of what is, of actuality; for comprehension is not an end, an objective to be gained. Discernment of the actual process of the "I", of its coming into being and its true dissolution, is the beginning and the end of search. To understand what is, comprehension must begin with oneself. The world is a series of indefinite, varied processes which cannot be fully comprehended, for each force is unique to itself, and cannot be truly perceptible, in its completeness. The whole process of life, of existence in the world, is entirely dependent on unique forces, and you can understand it only through that process which is focussed in the individual as consciousness. You may superficially gather the significance of other processes, but to comprehend life fully, you must understand this process working in you as consciousness. If each one deeply and significantly understands this process as consciousness, then each one will not fight for himself, exist for himself, be concerned about himself. Now, each one is concerned about himself, fighting for himself, acting antisocially because he does not understand himself fully; and it is only through the comprehension of his own unique force as consciousness that there is the possibility of understanding the whole. In completely discerning the "I" process, you cease to be a victim who struggles alone in an emptiness. Now, this force is unique, and in its self-development becomes consciousness, from which arises individuality. Please do not learn the phrase by heart, but think about it, and you will see that this force is unique to each one, and through its self-acting development becomes consciousness. What is this consciousness? It cannot have any location, nor can it divide itself as high and low. Consciousness is composed of many layers of memories, ignorance, limitations, tendencies, cravings. It is discernment and has the power of comprehending ultimate values. It is what we call individuality. Don't ask: Is there nothing else beyond this? That will be discernible when this "I" process comes to an end. What is important is to know oneself, and not what is beyond oneself. You are only seeking reward for your efforts, a something to which you can cling in your present despair, uncertainty and fear, when you ask: Is there something else beyond this "I"? Now, action is that friction, tension, between ignorance, craving, and the object of its want. This action is self-maintaining, which gives a continuity to the "I" process. So ignorance, through its self-sustaining activities, perpetuates itself as consciousness, the "I" process. These self-created limitations prevent true relationship with other individuals, with society. These limitations isolate one, and hence there is constant arising of fear. This ignorance with regard to oneself ever creates fear, with its many illusions, and hence the search for unity with the higher, with some superhuman intelligence, God, and so on. From this isolation comes the pursuit of systems, methods of conduct and disciplines. In the dissolution of these limitations you begin to discern that ignorance is without a beginning, that it is self-maintaining through its own activities, and that this process can come to an end through right effort and comprehension. You can test this out by experimenting, and discern for yourself the beginningless process of ignorance and its end. If the mind-heart is bound by any particular prejudice, its own action must create further limitations and so bring about greater sorrow and confusion. Thus it perpetuates its own ignorance, its own sorrows. If you become fully cognizant of this actuality, through experiment, then there is the comprehension of what the "I" is, and through right effort it can be brought to an end. This effort is awareness, in which there is not the choice or conflict of opposites, one part of consciousness conquering the other part, one prejudice overcoming another. This needs strenuous thought, which will free the mind of fears and limitations. Then only is there the permanent, the real. May 24, 1936 NEW YORK CITY 1ST PUBLIC TALK 1ST JUNE, 1936 In the world today, there are those who maintain that the individual is nothing but a social entity, that he is merely the product of conflicting environment. There are others who assert that man is divine, and this idea is expressed and interpreted in various forms to be found in religions. The implications in the idea that man is a social entity are many, and seemingly logical. If you deeply accept the idea that man is essentially a social entity, then you will favour the regimentation of thought and expression in every department of life. If you maintain that man is merely the result of environment, then system naturally becomes supremely important and on that all emphasis should be laid; then moulds by which man must be shaped acquire great value. You have then discipline, coercion, and ultimately the final authority of society calling itself government, or the authority of groups or of ideal concepts. Then social morality is merely for convenience; and our existence, a matter of brief span, is followed by annihilation. I need not go into the many implications in the idea that man is merely a social entity. If you are interested you can see for yourself its significance, and if you accept the idea that individuality is merely the product of environment, then your moral, social and religious conceptions must necessarily undergo a complete change. If, however, you accept the religious idea that there is some unseen, divine power which controls your destiny, and so compels obedience, reverence and worship, then you must also recognize the implications in this conception. From the deep acceptance of this divine power, there must follow a complete social and moral reorganization. This acceptance is based on faith, which must give birth to fear, though you cover up this fear by asserting that it is love. You accept this religious idea because in it there is the promise of personal immortality. Its morality is subtly based on self-perpetuation, on reward and punishment. In this conception there is also the idea of achievement, of egotistic pursuit and success. And, if you accept it, then you must seek guides, masters, paths, disciplines, and perpetuate the many subtle forms of authority. There are these two categories of thought, and they must inevitably come into acute conflict. Each one of us has to discover for himself if either of these seemingly contradictory conceptions of man is true; whether the individual is merely the result of environmental influences and of heredity, which develop certain peculiarities and characteristics, or whether there is some hidden power which is guiding, controlling, forcing man's destiny and fulfilment. Either you accept simultaneously both these conceptions though they are diametrically opposed to each other, or you make a choice between them, that is, a choice between regimentation of thought and expression of the individual, and the religious conception that some unseen intelligence is creating, guiding and shaping man's future and his happiness, an idea based on faith, on craving for self-perpetuation which prevents true discernment. Now if you are indifferent to this idea, again your very indifference is but an indication of thoughtlessness, therefore a prejudice, preventing true comprehension. Choice is based on like and dislike, on prejudice and tendencies, and so it loses all validity. Instead of belonging to either of these two groups, or being forced to make a choice, I say that there is a different approach to the comprehension of individuality, of man. This approach lies through direct discernment, through the proof of action, without violation of sanity and intelligence. How are you, as individuals, going to discover whether man is divine in limitation, or merely a plaything of social events? This problem loses its mere intellectual significance and becomes tremendously vital when you test it in action. Then, how is one to act? How is one to live? If you accept the idea that you are merely a social entity, then action becomes seemingly simple; you are then trained through education, through subtle compulsion, and through the constant instilling of certain ideas, to conform to a certain pattern of conduct, relationship. On the other hand, if you truly accepted the religious conception of some unseen power controlling and guiding your life, then your action would have a totally different significance from what it has now. Then you would have a different relationship, which is morality, with other individuals, with society; and it would imply the cessation of wars, class distinction, exploitation. But as this true relationship does not exist in the world, it is obvious that you are wholly uncertain about the real significance of individuality and of action. For, if you truly accepted the religious idea that you are guided by some supreme entity, then, perhaps, your moral and social action would be sane, balanced and intelligent; but as it is not, you obviously do not accept this idea, although you profess to accept it. Hence the many churches, with their various forms of exploitation. If you maintain that you are nothing but a social entity, then likewise there must be a complete change in your attitude and in your action. And this change has not taken place. All this indicates that you are in a state of lethargy and are only pursuing your own idiosyncrasies. To be completely and vitally uncertain is essential in order to understand the process of individuality, to find out what is permanent, to discover that which is true. You have to find out for yourself whether you are in this state of complete uncertainty, neither accepting the individual as a social entity, with all its implications, nor accepting the individual as something supreme, as being divinely guided, with all the implications in this idea. Then alone there is a possibility of true discernment and comprehension. If you are in this state, as most thoughtful people must be, not following any dogma, belief, or ideal, then you will perceive that to understand what is, you must know what you are. You cannot understand any other process - the world as society is a series of processes which are in a state of being born, of becoming - except the one which is focussed in the individual as consciousness. If you can understand the process of consciousness, of individuality, then there is a possibility of comprehending the world and its events. Reality is to be discerned only in knowing and in understanding the transient process of the "I". If I can comprehend myself, what I am, how I have come into being, whether the "I" is an identity in itself and what is the nature of its existence, then there is a possibility of comprehending the real, the true. I will explain this process of the "I" of individuality. There is energy which is unique to each individual, and which is without a beginning. This energy - please do not attribute to it any divinity or give to it a particular quality - in its process of self-acting development, creates its own substance or material, which is sensation, discernment and consciousness. This is the abstract as consciousness. The actual is action. Of course, there is no such absolute division. Action proceeds from ignorance, which exists where there are prejudices, tendencies, cravings, that must result in sorrow. So existence becomes a conflict, a friction. That is, consciousness is both discernment and action. Through the constant interaction between those cravings, prejudices, tendencies, and the limitations which this action is creating, there arises friction, the "I" process. If you examine deeply, you will perceive that individuality is only a series of limitations, a series of accumulative actions, of hindrances, which give to consciousness the identity called the "I". The "I" is only a series of memories, tendencies, which are born of craving, and action is that friction between craving and its object. If action is the result of a prejudice, of fear, of some belief, then that action produces further limitation. If you have been raised in a particular religious belief or if you have developed a particular tendency, it must create a resistance against the movement of life. These resistances, these self-protective, egotistic walls of security, give birth to the "I" process, which is maintaining itself through its own activities. To understand yourself, you must become conscious of this process of the building up of the "I". You will then discern that this process has no beginning, and yet by constant awareness and by right effort it can be brought to an end. The art of living is to bring this "I" process to an end. It is an art that needs great discernment and right effort. We cannot understand any other process except that process which is consciousness, upon which depends individuality. By right effort, there is the discernment of the coming into being of the "I" process, and by right effort there is the ending of that process. From this arises the bliss of reality, the beauty of life as eternal movement. This you can prove to yourself, it does not demand any faith, nor does it depend upon any system of thought or of belief. Only, it demands an integrated awareness and right effort, which will dissolve the self-created illusions and limitations and thus bring about the bliss of reality. Question: A genuine desire to spread happiness around and help to make of this world a nobler place for all to live in is guiding me in life and dictating my actions. This attitude makes me use the wealth and prestige I possess, not as a means of self-gratification, but merely as a sacred trust, and supplies an urge to life. What, fundamentally, is wrong in such an attitude, and am I guilty of exploiting my friends and fellow beings? Krishnamurti: Whether you are exploiting or not depends on what you mean by helping and spreading happiness. You can help another and so enslave him, or you can help another to comprehend himself and so to fulfil deeply. You can spread happiness by encouraging illusion, giving superficial comfort and security which appear to be lasting. Or you can help another to discern the many illusions in which he is caught; if you are capable of doing this, then you are not exploiting. But, in order not to exploit fundamentally, you must be free yourself from those illusions and comforts in which you or another is held. You must discern your own limitations before you can truly help another. Many people throughout the world earnestly desire to aid others, but this help generally consists in converting others to their own particular belief, system or religion. It is but the substitution of one kind of prison for another. This exchange does not bring about comprehension but only creates greater confusion. In deeply comprehending oneself lies the bliss for which each individual is struggling and groping. Question: Don't you think that it is necessary to go through the experience of exploitation in order to learn not to exploit, to acquire in order not to be acquisitive, and so on? Krishnamurti: It is a very comforting idea that you must first possess, and then learn not to acquire! Acquisition is a form of pleasure, and during its process, that is, while acquiring, gathering, there comes suffering, and in order to avoid it you begin to say to yourself, "I must not acquire". Not to be acquisitive becomes a new virtue, a new pleasure. But if you examine the desire that prompts you not to acquire, you will see that it is based on a deeper desire to protect yourself from pain. So you are really seeking pleasure, both in acquisitiveness and in non-acquisitiveness. Fundamentally, acquisitiveness and non-acquisitiveness are the same, as they both spring from the desire not to be involved in pain. Developing a particular quality merely creates a wall of self-protection, of resistance against the movement of life. In this resistance, within these prison walls of self-protection, lies sorrow, confusion. Now there is a different way of looking at this problem of opposites. It is to discern directly, to perceive integrally, that all tendencies and virtues hold within themselves their own opposites, and that to develop an opposite is to escape from actuality. Would it be true to say that you must hate in order to love? This never happens in actuality. You love, and then because in your love there is possessiveness, there arise frustration, jealousy and fear. This process awakens hatred. Then begins the conflict of opposites. If acquisitiveness in itself is ugly and evil, then why develop its opposite? Because you do not discern that it,is ugly and evil, but you want to avoid the pain involved in it, you develop its opposite. All opposites must create conflict, because they are essentially unintelligent. A man who is afraid develops bravery. This process of developing bravery is really an escape from fear, but if he discerns the cause of fear, fear will naturally cease. Why is he not capable of direct discernment? Because, if there is direct perception, there must be action, and in order to avoid action one develops the opposite and so establishes a series of subtle escapes. Question: As social entities we have various responsibilities, as workers, voters, and executive heads. At present the basis of most of these activities is class division, which has fostered a class consciousness. If we are to break down these barriers which are responsible for so much social and economic chaos, we at once become antisocial. What contribution have you to make toward the solution of this modern worldwide problem? Krishnamurti: Do you really think that it is antisocial to break away from this system of exploitation, of class consciousness, of competition? Surely not. One is afraid of creating chaos - as though there were not confusion now - in breaking away from this system of division and exploitation; but if there is discernment that exploitation is inherently wrong, then there is the awakening of true intelligence which alone can create order and the well-being of man. Now the existing system is based on individual security, the security and comfort that are implied in immortality and economic well-being. Surely it is this acquisitive existence that is antisocial and not the breaking away from a conception and a system that are essentially false and stupid. This system is creating great chaos, confusion, and is bringing about wars. Now we are antisocial through our acquisitive pursuits, whether it is the acquisitive pursuit of God or of wealth. Since we are caught up in this process of acquisition, whether it is of virtue or of power in society, since we are caught up in this machine which we have created, we must intelligently break away from it. Such an act of intelligence is not antisocial, it is an act of sanity and balance. Question: Have you no use for public opinion? Is not mass psychology important for leaders of men? Krishnamurti: Public opinion is generally moulded by the bias of leaders, and to allow oneself to be moulded by that opinion is surely not intelligent. It is not spiritual, if you like to use that word. Take, for example, war. It is one thing to die for a cause, voluntarily, and it is quite another thing that a group of people or a set of leaders should send you to kill or be killed. Mob psychology is developed and is deliberately used for various purposes. In that there is no intelligence. Question: All I gather from your writings and utterances is an insistence on self-denudation, the necessity of removing every emotional comfort and solace. As this leaves me no happier, in fact less happy than before, to me your teaching only carries a destructive note. What is its constructive side, if it has one? Krishnamurti: What do you mean by constructive help? To be told what to do? To be given a system? To have someone direct and guide you? To be told how to meditate, or what kind of discipline you should follow? Is this really constructive, or is it destructive of intelligence? What is the motive which prompted this question? If you examine it, you will see that it is based on fear, fear of not realizing what is called happiness, truth; fear and distrust of one's own effort and of uncertainty. What you would call positive teaching is utterly destructive of intelligence, making you thoughtless and automatic. You want to be told what to think and how to act; but a teaching that insists that through your own ignorant action - ignorance being the lack of comprehension of oneself - you are increasing and perpetuating limitation and sorrow, such a teaching you call destructive. If you truly understand what I am saying, you will discern that it is not negative. On the contrary, you will see that it brings about tremendous self-reliance, and so gives you the strength of direct perception. Question: What relation has memory to living? Krishnamurti: Memory acts as a resistance against the movement of life. Memory is but the many layers of self-protective responses against life. Thus action or experience, instead of liberating, creates further limitation and sorrow. These memories with their tendencies and cravings form consciousness, on which individuality is based. From this there arise division, conflict and sorrow. The present chaos, conflict and misery can be understood and solved only when each individual discerns the process of ignorance which he is engendering through his own action. To bring about order and the well-being of man, each one, through his own right endeavour, has to discern this process and bring about its end. This demands an alertness of mind and right effort, not the following of a particular system of thought, nor the disciplining of the mind and heart, in order to gain that reality which cannot be described or conceived. Only when the cause of sorrow is dissolved is there the bliss of reality. June 1, 1936 NEW YORK CITY 2ND PUBLIC TALK 4TH JUNE, 1936 In the midst of great confusion and strain we are caught up in the struggle for success and security, and so have lost the deep feeling for life, the true sensibility which is the essence of understanding. We admit intellectually that there is exploitation, cruelty, but somehow there is not that comprehension which leads to drastic action and change. True and vital action can spring only from a comprehensive and intelligent view of life. There is every conceivable form of exploitation in man's social, religious, and creative activities. We see man living on man, making others work for his own personal gain and advantage, buying and selling for his own benefit and ruthlessly seeking and establishing his own personal security. There are class distinctions with their antagonisms and hatreds. There are distinctions in work. One kind is regarded as superior and another inferior, one type is despised and another is praised. It is a system of competition and ruthless elimination of those who are, perhaps, less cunning, less aggressive, and who have not had the fortunate opportunities of life. We have racial pride and national prejudices which often lead us to war, with all its horrors and cruelties. And even the animals do not escape from the cruelties of man. Then we have the exploitation by religions, with their cruelties, the competition between faiths, with their churches, gods and temples. Each system of belief and faith is maintaining its own divine right, its own certainty to lead man to the highest, and the individual loses that true religious experience which is not encumbered with beliefs and dogmas of organized religion. There is systematized superstition in the name of reality, the instilling and maintaining of fear with its assertions and doctrines. Thus there is confusion of beliefs, ideals and doctrines. And, in the field of creative work, there is an immense gap between creative expression and the art of living. In that creative work there is personal ambition, self-conceit and competition, producing a superficial reaction which is often mistaken for creative expression and fulfilment. In this civilization we are forced, whether we like it or not, by a system which each individual has helped to create, to live without deep fulfilment, and few escape from its cruelties. In every avenue of life there is confusion, misery, and every one as a social and religious entity is caught up in this machine of exploitation and cruelty. Some are conscious of this process, with its sorrow, and although they recognize its ugliness, they continue in the old habits of thought and action, saying to themselves that they must perforce live in this world. There are others who are wholly unconscious of this system of misery. When you begin to examine the various ideas that are put forth for the solution of man's misery, you will perceive that they divide themselves into two groups: one which maintains that there must be complete social reorganization of man, so that exploitation, acquisitiveness and wars may cease; the other which asserts and lays emphasis on the volitional activities of man. To lay emphasis on either is erroneous. Social reorganization is obviously necessary. But if you critically examine this idea of organizing man and his expression, you will perceive, if you are not carried away by its superficial assurances of immediate results of security and comfort, that in it there are many grave dangers. The mere creation of a new system can again become a prison in which man will be held, only by different dogmas, ideas and creeds. There are those who maintain that we must put bread first, and other things vital to man will then rightly follow. That is, they maintain that there must be control of environment and through this man will come to his true fulfilment. This exclusive emphasis on bread frustrates its own purpose, for man does not live by bread alone. So then, which shall we emphasize, the inner or the outer? Shall we begin first from the outer, by controlling, directing, and dominating; or shall we lay the emphasis on the inner process of man? To emphasize the one or the other destroys its own end. To divide man into the outer and the inner is to prevent the true comprehension of man. To understand the problem of class distinction, wars, exploitation, cruelties, hatreds, acquisitiveness, we must discern man as a whole, and from that point of view consider his activities, desires, and fulfilment. To regard man as merely the result of environment or of heredity, to lay emphasis only on bread and discard the inner process, or to concern oneself entirely with the inner and discard the outer, is wholly erroneous, and this must ever lead to confusion and misery. We have to comprehend man as an integral whole, not as an entity with separative functions, as those of a worker, a citizen or a spiritual being, but as an interdependent and interacting, complete being. We must have the insight to know that ignorance of our own being is the previous condition of all sorrow and conflict. As long as we do not comprehend ourselves - the hidden and the conscious - then whatever we may do, in whatever field of activity, we must inevitably create sorrow. This comprehension of oneself - that is, of the process of the building up of the "I", with its ignorance, tendencies and cravings -must become actual and not remain theoretical. It can only become actual, real to you, if you discern and comprehend through experimentation that the process of ignorance can be brought to an end. With the cessation of ignorance - ignorance ever being the lack of comprehension of oneself and the "I" process - there is reality and the bliss of enlightenment. There are two kinds of experience, that of wish and that of actuality. But to experience the actual, the real, the experiences of wish must cease. The experience of wish is the mere continuance of separative self-consciousness and this prevents the comprehension of actuality. Although you may think that you are experiencing the actual, you are really experiencing your own wishes, and these wishes become so real, so concrete, so definite, that you take them for actuality. The experience of wish continues to create division and conflict. What are the results of the experiences of wish? They are the coverings or masks that we have developed through our own volitional activities, based on fear and the search for security, the security of the here with its acquisitiveness or of the hereafter with its hopes and longings, the security of opinion, beliefs and ideals. These masks and coverings, the product of the volitional activity of craving, continue the beginningless process of the "I", that consciousness which we call individuality. As long as these masks exist there cannot be the comprehension of the real, the actual. You will ask: How can I live, exist, without any craving or wish? You ask this question because for you this conception is only theoretical, and as you have not experimented, you have not proved to yourself its validity, its actuality. If you experiment, you will perceive that you can live without craving, integrally, completely, actually, and so comprehend reality, the beauty and the fullness of life. Whether you can live, work and create without craving, wishing, can be discovered not by another for you but only by yourself. So long as the process of reforming the "I" continues through the experiences of wish, there must be confusion, sorrow and friction from which the mind tries to escape into the search after immortality or other comfort and security, thus engendering the process of exploitation. With the cessation of all experiences of wish, which sustains separative individuality, there is the nameless, immeasurable reality, bliss. To be able to experience reality, you must be free of all the masks which you have developed in the struggle for acquisition, born of craving. These masks do not conceal reality. We are apt to think that by getting rid of these masks we will find reality, or that by uncovering the many layers of want we will discover that which is hidden. Thus we are assuming that behind this ignorance, or in the depths of con- sciousness, or beyond this friction of will, of craving, lies reality. This consciousness of many masks, of many layers, does not conceal within itself reality. But as we begin to comprehend the process of development of these masks, these layers of consciousness, and as consciousness frees itself from its volitional growth, there is reality. Our conception that man is divine but limited, that beauty is concealed by ugliness, wisdom buried under ignorance, supreme intelligence hiding in darkness, is utterly erroneous. In discerning how through this beginningless ignorance and its activities there has arisen the "I" process and in bringing that process to an end, there is enlightenment. It is an experience of that which is immeasurable; which cannot be described, but is. How is one to discern this beginningless ignorance with its volitional activities? How is one to bring about its end? How can one become deeply thoughtful, integrally aware of the process of consciousness with its many layers of tendencies, cravings, hatreds and desires? Can any discipline or system help one to recognize and end this process of ignorance and sorrow? By experiment you will perceive that no system, no guide and no discipline can ever help you to discern this process or bring ignorance to an end. You need an eager, pliable mind, capable of direct discernment in which there is no choice. But as your mind is prejudiced, divided in itself, it is incapable of true discernment. As you are prejudiced you have to become aware of that fact before you can begin to discern what is actual and what is illusory. To discern, there must be awareness. You must become aware of the movement of your thought and its activity. Whatever you do, do it with the fullness of mind and you will perceive that in this awakening process, many hidden and subtle thoughts and cravings are revealed. When the mind is no longer bound by choice there is the experience of actuality. For choice is based on wish, and where there is wish there cannot be discernment. By right effort of awakened interest, the beginningless process of ignorance, with its self-sustaining activities, is brought to an end. It is by right endeavour that the mind, freeing itself from its own self-created fears, tendencies and cravings, is able to discern the real, the immeasurable. Question: I have lost all the enthusiasm and zest in life that I once had. I have sufficient for my material needs, yet life is now to me a purposeless and empty shell, an aching existence which drags on and on. Would you put forward some thoughts which might possibly aid me in breaking through this sphere of apparently hopeless void? Krishnamurti: One loses enthusiasm or the zest for life when there is no fulfilment. As long as one is merely a slave to a system, or trained merely to fit into a particular social mould or to adjust oneself thoughtlessly to an established mode of conduct, there cannot be fulfilment. In merely responding to a reaction and thinking that it is the full expression of one's being, there must be frustration; and where there is frustration, there must be emptiness and suffering. If one is deeply conscious of frustration, then there is some hope, for it creates such misery and discontent that one is forced to strip oneself of the many tendencies which one has developed through craving, and free oneself from the illusions and impositions of opinion. This demands right effort, for it is necessary to break away from the old, established custom of thought and action. Where there is frustration, there must be emptiness, an aching void and suffering; but to fulfil is arduous, it needs deep comprehension and an alert mind-heart. Question: Is not desire for security rather a natural instinct, like that of self-protection in the presence of danger? How then can we get over it, and why should we try to? Krishnamurti: The search after security indicates frustration and the gnawing of constant fear. Intelligence, which has no concern with the conception of security, arranges the well-being of the whole and not merely of the particular. Now, each one is individually seeking his own security and is thus creating confusion and misery. Each one is concerned about himself, seeking his own individual security here and in the hereafter, and is thus ever coming into conflict with another who is also pursuing his own end. So there is constant friction, antagonism, hatred and strife. Intelligence alone can arrange humanely the necessities of life for all. This is actuality, and to experience it you must discern the true significance of security. If you consider it deeply, you will perceive that this idea of seeking security has no lasting value, here or in the hereafter. This has been proved over and over again during upheavals. But in spite of it, each one pursues his own security and so continues to live in constant fear and confusion. Where there is no search for security, there alone can be the bliss of the real. Question: Example is said to be better than precept. Cannot the value of personal example to another be considerable, like your own? Krishnamurti: What is the motive that lies behind this question? Is it not that the questioner desires to follow an example, thinking that it may lead him to fulfilment? The following of another never leads to fulfilment. A violet can never become a rose, but the violet in itself can be a perfect flower. Being uncertain, one seeks certainty in the imitation of another. This produces fear, from which arise the delusion of shelter and comfort in another, and the many false ideas of discipline, meditation and the subjugation of oneself to an ideal. All this merely indicates the lack of comprehension of oneself, the perpetuating of ignorance. It is the root of sorrow, and instead of discerning the cause, you think that you can comprehend yourself through another. This looking to the example of another only leads to illusion and suffering. As long as there is not the comprehension of oneself, there can be no fulfilment. Fulfilment is not a process of rationalization, nor the mere gathering of information, nor does it lie through another, however great. It is the fruition of deep comprehension of your own existence and actions. Question: If reincarnation is a fact in nature, and also the idea that the ego reincarnates until it attains perfection, then doesn't the attainment of perfection or truth involve time? Krishnamurti: We often ask if reincarnation is a reality, because we can find no intelligent happiness, no fulfilment of the individual in the present. If we are in conflict and misery, and have no opportunity and hope in this life, we crave for a future life of fulfilment free from struggle and pain. This future state of bliss we like to call perfection. To understand this question we must discover what the ego is. The ego is not something real in itself which, like the worm that goes from leaf to leaf, wanders from one existence to another, gathering experience and learning wisdom, till it reaches the highest, which we imagine to be perfection. That conception is erroneous, it is merely an opinion and not an actuality. The actual process of the "I", the ego, can be discerned in perceiving how through ignorance, tendencies, cravings, it is reformed and its continuity re-established at each moment. The will of craving is perpetuating itself through its own volitional activities. Through this action of ignorance and its self-sustaining process, limitation as consciousness creates its own further limitation and sorrow. In this vicious circle all existence is caught. Can this limitation, friction, this resistance against the movement of life known as the ego, ever be made perfect? Can craving become perfect? Surely selfishness cannot become nobler, purer selfishness; it must ever remain that which it is. This idea that through time the ego will become perfect is utterly false and erroneous. Time is the result of those volitional activities of craving which bind and give a sense of continuity to life which is in reality ever in a state of being born, a state that has never been nor ever will be, but one that is ever becoming anew, ever in movement. The point of vital importance is for each one to discover whether, through ignorance with its volitional activities, the process of the "I" is perpetuating itself or not. If this self-sustained process continues, there cannot be that which is real, true. Only with the cessation of the will of craving with its experiences of wish, is there reality. This beginningless process of the "I" with its self-active limitations cannot be proved. It must be discerned. It is not of faith but of deep comprehension, of integral awareness, of right effort to discern how craving creates its own limitation, and how any action born of craving must further engender friction, resistance and sorrow. Question: How does the psycho-analytic technique of dealing with fixations, inhibitions and complexes strike you, and how would you deal with such cases? Krishnamurti: Can another free you from these limitations, or is it merely a process of substitution? The pursuit of the psychoanalyst has become a hobby of the well-to-do. (Laughter) Don't laugh, please. You may not go to a psychoanalyst but you go through the same process in a different way, when you look to a religious organization, to a leader or to some discipline to free you from fixations, inhibitions and complexes. These methods may succeed in creating superficial effects, but they must inevitably develop new resistances against the movement of life. No person and no technique can really free one from these limitations. To experience that freedom one must comprehend life deeply, and discern for oneself the process of creating and maintaining ignorance and illusion. This demands alertness and keen perception, not the mere acceptance of a technique. But as one is slothful, one depends on another for comprehension and thereby increases sorrow and confusion. The comprehension of this process of ignorance and its self-sustaining activities, of this consciousness focussed in and perceptible only to the individual, can alone bring about deep, abiding bliss to man. June 4, 1936 EDDINGTON, PENNSYLVANIA 1ST PUBLIC TALK 12TH JUNE, 1936 It is important to ask yourself why you come to these meetings, and what it is that you are seeking. Unless you know that for yourself, you are apt to be greatly confused in trying to solve the many problems and issues which confront us all. To comprehend the motive and the object of your search, if you are seeking anything at all, you must know whether you regard life from the mechanistic point of view, or from the point of view of belief in the other world, which is called religious. Most people will tell you that they are working for a world in which exploitation of man by man, with its cruelties, wars and appalling miseries, will cease. While they will all agree as to this ultimate object, some will accept the mechanistic, and others the religious view of life. The mechanistic view of life is that as man is merely the product of environment and of various reactions, perceptible only to the senses, the environment and reactions should be controlled by a rationalized system which will allow the individual to function only within its frame. Please comprehend the full significance of this mechanistic point of view of life. It conceives no supreme, transcendental entity, nothing that has a continuity; this view of life admits no survival of any kind after death; life is but a brief span leading to annihilation. As man is nothing but the result of environmental reactions, concerned with the pursuit of his own egotistic security, he has helped to create a system of exploitation, cruelty and war. So his activities must be shaped and guided by changing and controlling the environment. The mechanistic view of life deprives man of the true experience of reality. This is not some fantastic, imaginative experience, but that which comes into being when the mind is free of all the encumbrances of fear, dogma, belief, and those psychological diseases resulting from restrictions and limitations, which we accept in our search for self-protection, security and comfort. Then there are those who accept the view that man is essentially divine, that his destiny is controlled and guided by some supreme intelligence. These assert that they are seeking God, perfection, liberation, happiness, a state of being in which all subjective conflict has ceased. Their belief in a supreme entity, who is guiding man's destiny, is based on faith. They will say this transcendental entity or supreme intelligence has created the world and that the "I", the ego, the individual, is something permanent in itself and has an eternal quality. If you think critically about this, you will perceive that this concep- tion, based on faith, has led man away from this world into a world of conjectures, hopes and idealism, thus aiding him to escape from conflict and confusion. This attitude of otherworldliness, based on faith and so on fear, has developed beliefs, dogmas, ceremonies, and has encouraged a morality of individual security, resulting in a system of escapes from this world of pain and conflict; it has brought about a division between the actual and the ideal, the here and the hereafter, earth and heaven, the inner and the outer. And out of this conception there has developed a morality based on fear, on acquisitiveness, on individual security and comfort here and in the hereafter, and on a series of immoral, hypocritical and unhealthy values that are utterly at variance with life. This conception of life with its escapes, based on faith, also deprives man of the true experience of reality. So, either one is bound to faith, with its fears, organized beliefs and disciplines; or, rejecting faith, one accepts the mechanistic view of life with its doctrines, its rationalized beliefs and conformity to a pattern of thought and conduct. Most people belong to one of these two groups, to one of these opposites. Opposites can never be true; and if neither of them is true, how is one to understand life, its values, its morality and the deep significance which one feels it has? There is a different way of looking at life, not from the point of view of the opposites, of faith and of science, of fear and of the mechanical; and that is to comprehend life, not as manifested in the universe, but as a process focussed in each individual. That is, each one has to discern the process of becoming and the process of apparently ceasing, of being born and of dying. This process alone is wholly perceptible to the individual as consciousness. Please see this point clearly. The process that is at work in the universe or in another individual cannot be discerned except as it is focussed in you, the individual. The inclination to accept the mechanistic view of life, or to embrace the security and comfort that faith offers, does not lead to true discernment of what is. Reality is to be comprehended only through the "I" process, as consciousness, from which arises individuality. That is, one has to understand the process of one's own becoming, which involves intelligence, an acute discernment, a constant awareness. In understanding oneself integrally there comes the possibility of having true life values, of true relationship with other individuals, with society. To belong to either of the two opposing groups of thought I have mentioned, will only lead ultimately to greater confusion and misery. All opposites impede discernment. To discern what is, one must comprehend oneself, and to do this, one must pierce through all those encumbrances and limitations produced by the mechanistic view of life or by faith; then only is it possible to discern sanely, without violence, the "I" process as consciousness from which arises individuality. All things come into being through the process of energy, which is unique to each individual. You and I are the results of that energy which in the course of its development creates those prejudices, tendencies and cravings that make each individual unique. Now, this process which is without a beginning, in its movement, in its action, becomes consciousness through sensation, perception, and discernment. This consciousness is perceptible to the senses as individuality. Its action is born of ignorance which is friction. The energy which is unique to each individual, is not to be glorified. Of this process of perpetuating ignorance as consciousness, perceptible to sense as individuality, you must become aware, so that to you it becomes an actuality and no longer a theory. Then only will there be a fundamental change of values which alone will bring about true relationship of the individual to his environment, to society. If you are able to discern this process of ignorance which is without a beginning, and comprehend also that it can be brought to an end through the cessation of its own volitional activity, then you will perceive that you are entirely master of your destiny, utterly self-reliant and not dependent on circumstances or on faith for conduct and relationship. To bring about this profound change of values, and to establish the right relationship of the individual with society, you, the individual, must consciously free yourself from the mechanistic view of life, with its many implications and its structures of superficial adjustment. You must also be free from the encumbrances of faith with its fears, beliefs, and creeds. Sometimes you think life is mechanical, and at other times when there is sorrow and confusion, you revert to faith, looking to a supreme being for guidance and help. You vacillate between the opposites, whereas only through comprehension of the illusion of the opposites can you free yourself from their limitations and encumbrances. You often imagine that you are free from them, but you can be radically free only when you fully comprehend the process of the building up of these limitations and of bringing them to an end. You cannot possibly have the comprehension of the real, of what is, as long as this beginningless process of ignorance is perpetuated. When this process, sustaining itself through its own volitional activities of craving, ceases, there is that which may be called reality, truth, bliss. To understand life and to have true values, you must perceive how you are held by the opposites, and before rejecting them, you must discern their deep significance. And in the very process of freeing yourself from them, there is born the comprehension of beginningless ignorance, which creates false values and so establishes false relationship between the individual and his environment, bringing about confusion, fear and sorrow. To comprehend confusion and sorrow, you, the individual, must discern your own process of becoming, through intensity of thought and integral awareness. This does not mean that you must withdraw from the world: on the contrary, it involves the comprehension of the numerous false values of the world, and being free from them. You yourself have created these values, and only through constant alertness and discernment can this process of ignorance be brought to an end. Question: Is there not the possibility that awareness, which demands constant occupation with one's own thoughts and feelings, might produce an indifferent attitude towards others? Will it teach one sympathy, which is a sensibility to the suffering of others? Krishnamurti: Awareness is not occupation with one's own thoughts and feelings. Such occupation, which is introspection, objectifies action and calculates the results of an act. In that there can be no sympathy, nor the fullness of being. Each one is so occupied with himself, with his own psychological needs, his own security, that he becomes incapable of sympathy. Now awareness is not this. Awareness is discernment, without judgment, of the process of creating self-protecting walls and limitations behind which the mind takes shelter and comfort. Take, for example, the question of faith, with its fear and hope. Faith gives you comfort, a solace in misfortune or sorrow. On faith you have built up a system of compulsion, discipline, a set of false values. Behind the protective wall of faith you take shelter, and that wall has prevented love, sympathy, and kindliness; because your occupation has been with yourselves, with your own salvation, with your own well-being here and in the hereafter. If you begin to be aware, to discern how you have created this process through fear, how you are constantly taking shelter, whenever there is any reaction, behind these ideals, concepts and values, then you will perceive that awareness is not occupation with your own thoughts and feelings, but the deep comprehension of the folly of creating these values behind which the mind takes shelter. Most of us are unconscious that we are following a pattern, an ideal, and that it is guiding us through life. We accept and follow an ideal because we think that it will help us to wade through the confusion of existence. With that we are occupied rather than in comprehending the whole process of life itself. We are therefore unconscious of this constant adjustment to an ideal, and never question why it exists; but if we were to examine critically, we should see that an ideal is but a means of escape from actuality, and that in conforming ourselves to an ideal we are allowing ourselves to become more and more restricted, confused and sorrow laden. In comprehending the actual, with its sufferings, acquisitiveness, cruelties, and in eliminating them, there is true sympathy, affection. This awareness is not occupation with one's own thoughts and feelings, but a constant discernment, freed from choice, of what is true. All choice is based on tendency, craving and ignorance, which prevents true discernment. If choice exists, there cannot be awareness. Question: By intelligent observation of the lives of other people, one can often draw valuable conclusions for oneself. What value do you think such vicarious experience has? Krishnamurti: Fundamentally, vicarious experience cannot have integral value. There is only that process of perpetuating ignorance as focussed in each one, and it is only through the comprehension of this process that one can understand life, not through a bypath -the experience of another. Through the bypath, that is, the following of another or accepting the wisdom of another, there cannot be fulfilment. Question: Assuming that we usually act in response to some mental bias or some emotional stress, is there any technique by which we may become conscious of such bias or stress at the moment of action, before we have actually performed the action? Krishnamurti: In other words, you are seeking a method, a system, which will enable you to keep awake at the moment of action. System and action cannot exist together, they kill each other. You are asking me: Can I take a sedative and yet be awake at the moment of action? How can a system keep you awake, or anything else except your own intensity of interest, the necessity of keeping awake? Please see the significance of this question. If you are aware that your mind is biased, then you do not want any discipline or system or mode of conduct. Your very discernment of a prejudice burns away that prejudice, and you are able to act sanely and clearly. But because you do not perceive a bias, which causes suffering, you hope to rid yourself of sorrow by following a system, which is but the development of another bias, and this new bias you call the process of keeping awake, becoming conscious. The search for a system merely indicates a sluggish mind, and the following of a system encourages you to act automatically, destroying intelligence. The so-called religious teachers have given you systems. You think that by following a new system, you will train the mind to discern and accept new values. When you succeed in doing this, what you have really done is to deaden the mind, put it to sleep, and this you mistake for happiness, peace. One listens to all this, and yet there remains a gap between everyday life and the pursuit of the real. This gap exists because change involves not only physical discomfort but mental uncertainty, and we dislike to be uncertain. Because this uncertainty creates disturbance, we postpone change, thus exaggerating the gap. So we go on creating conflict and misery, from which we desire to escape. We then accept either the mechanistic view of life or that of faith, and so escape from actuality. The gap between ourselves and the real is bridged only when we see the absolute necessity for cessation from all escapes and hence the necessity for integral action, out of which is born true human relationship with individuals, with society. June 12, 1936 EDDINGTON, PENNSYLVANIA 2ND PUBLIC TALK 14TH JUNE, 1936 Question: What is wrong with one's relationship to another when that which is free living to oneself seems to be false living to another, and causes the other deep suffering while one is oneself serene? Is this a lack of true understanding on one's own part, and therefore a lack of sympathy? Krishnamurti: It all depends on what you call free living. If you are obsessed by an ideal and follow it ruthlessly without deeply considering its integral significance, you are not fulfilling, and you are therefore creating suffering for another and for yourself. Through your own lack of balance, you create disharmony. But if you are truly fulfilling, that is, living in true values, then although that fulfilment may bring about antagonism and conflict, you will truly help the world. But one has to be aware, extremely alert, to see whether one is merely living according to an ideal, principle, or standard, which indicates the lack of real understanding of the present, and an escape from actuality. This escape, this imitation leading to frustration, is the true cause of conflict and suffering. Question: How can I prevent interference with what I think is right action without causing unhappiness to others? Krishnamurti: If you merely consider not causing unhappiness to others and try to mould your life according to that idea, then you are not acting truly. But if you are freeing yourself from the many subtle layers of egotism, then your action, though it may cause unhappiness, is that of fulfilment. Question: Morality and ethics, though variable factors, have throughout the ages supplied the motives for conduct, as for instance, the ideal of Christian charity, or Hindu renunciation. Devoid of this basis, how can we live useful and happy lives? Krishnamurti: There is the morality of the ideal and that of the actual. The ideal is to love one another, not to kill, not to exploit, and so on. But in actuality, our conduct is based on a different conception. The ethic of our everyday existence, the morality of our social contacts, is based fundamentally on egotism, on acquisitiveness, on fear, on self-protectiveness. As long as these exist, how can there be true morality, true relationship of the individual with his environment, with society? As long as each one is isolating himself through fear, acquisitiveness, egotistic cravings, beliefs and ideals, how can there be true relationship with another? The everyday morality is really immorality, and the world is caught up in this immorality. Various forms of acquisitiveness, exploitation and killing are honoured by governments and by religious organizations, and are the basis of accepted morality. In all this there is no love but only fear, which is covered over by the constant repetition of idealistic words that hinder discernment. To be truly moral, that is, to have true relationship with another, with society, the immorality of the world must cease. This immorality has been created through the self-protective cravings and efforts of each individual. Now, you will ask how one can live without craving, without acquisitiveness. If you deeply think out the significance of freedom from acquisitiveness, if you experiment with it, then you will see for yourself that you can live in the world without being of the world. Question: In the book entitled "The Initiate in the Dark Cycle" it is stated that what you are teaching is Advaitism, which is a philosophy only for yogis and chelas, and dangerous for the average individual. What have you to say about this? Krishnamurti: Surely, if I considered that what I am saying is dangerous for the average person, I wouldn't talk. So, it is for you to consider if what I say is dangerous. People who write books of this kind are consciously or unconsciously exploiting others. They have axes of their own to grind, and having committed themselves to a certain system, they bring in the authority of a Master, of tradition, of superstition, of churches, which generally controls the activities of an individual. What is there in what I am saying that is so difficult or dangerous for the average man? I say that to know love, kindliness, considerateness, there cannot be egotism. There must not be subtle escapes from the actual, through idealism. I say that authority is pernicious, not only the authority imposed by another, but also that which is unconsciously developed through the accumulation of self-protective memories, the authority of the ego. I say that you cannot follow another to comprehend reality. Surely, all this is not dangerous to the individual, but it is dangerous to the man who is committed to an organization and desires to maintain it, to the man who desires adulation, popularity and power. What I say about nationalism and class distinction is dangerous to the man who benefits by their cruelties and degradation. Comprehension, enlightenment, is dangerous to the man who subtly or grossly enjoys the benefits of exploitation, authority, fear. Question: Do you discard every system of philosophy, even the Vedanta which teaches renunciation? Krishnamurti: You must ask yourself why you need a system, not why I discard it. You think that systems help the individual to unfold, to fulfil, to comprehend. How can a system or a technique ever give you enlightenment? Enlightenment comes about through one's own right effort, through one's own discernment of the process of ignorance. To discern, the mind must be unprejudiced; but now, as the mind is prejudiced and cannot discern, surely no system can free it from prejudice. All that a system can tell you is to have no prejudices, or it can indicate various kinds of prejudices, but it is you who have to make the effort to be free from them. There is no such thing as renunciation. When you comprehend right values of life, the idea of renunciation has no meaning. When you do not comprehend right values there is fear, and then there is the hope of freeing yourself from it through renunciation. Enlightenment does not come through renunciation. You think that by going away from actuality, from everyday existence, you are going to find truth. On the contrary, you will find reality only through everyday life, through human contacts, through social relationships, and through the way of thought and love. Question: What is your idea of meditation? Krishnamurti: What is called meditation, as practised by most people, is concentration on an idea and self-control. This concentration helps to develop a strong memory of some principle that guides and controls everyday thought and conduct. This conformity to a principle, to an ideal, is but an escape from actuality, the lack of discernment of the adequate cause of suffering. The man who seeks reality through renunciation, through meditation, through any system, is caught in the process of acquisition, and that which can be acquired is not true. Meditation is not a withdrawal from life. It is not concentration. Meditation is the constant discernment of what is true in the actions, reactions and provocations of life. To discern the true cause of struggle, cruelty and misery, is true meditation. This needs alertness, deep awareness. In this awareness, in the course of deep discernment of right values, there comes the comprehension of reality, bliss. June 14, 1936 EDDINGTON, PENNSYLVANIA 3RD PUBLIC TALK 16TH JUNE, 1936 I am going to sum up what I have been saying during the talks and discussions that we have had here. I need not go into details, or point out the many implications, but these ideas when thought over deeply, will reveal to you their detailed significance. We are all seeking to live without confusion and sorrow and to free ourselves from the struggle, not only with our neighbours, family and friends, but especially with ourselves, with the conceptions of right and wrong, false and true, good and evil. There is not only the conflict of our relationship with environment, but also the conflict within us which inevitably reflects itself in social morality. Of course, there are those brutal and stupid exceptions, who are wholly at ease; or, fearful of their own personal safety, live without thought and consideration their minds are so padded, so invulnerable, that they refuse to be shaken by doubt or inquiry. They do not allow themselves to think; or if they do, their thoughts run along traditional lines. They have their own reward. We are concerned, however, with those who are seriously attempting to comprehend life, with its miseries and apparently ceaseless conflict. We are concerned with those who, deeply realizing their environment, seek its true significance, and the cause of their suffering, of their transient joys. In their search they have become entangled, either in the mechanistic explanation of life, or in the explanations of faith, of belief. In these opposite explanations, mind has become involved and entrammelled. The mechanistic view of life, rejecting everything that is not perceptible to the senses, maintains that man is a mere creature of reactions; that the mechanism of his being is kept going, as it were, by a series of reactions, not by force or energy capable in itself of bringing about action; that his development, his ideas and conceptions and his emotions are merely the result of outward impacts; that the adequate cause of each happening is simply a series of antecedent happenings. And from this it is argued that by controlling the happenings and man's reactions to these through the regimentation of his thought and action and through propaganda, he will be enabled to establish right relationship with his environment. That is, the regimentation and control of his various reactions will bring about events that will give man happiness. Opposed to this stands faith. This view maintains that the adequate cause of man's existence is universal force, a force in itself divine, imperceptible to the senses. This transcendental force, this superintelli- gence, is ever guiding, watching, and it decrees that nothing shall ever take place without its being cognizant of the happening. From this, naturally, there arises the idea of predestination. If there is super-intelligence watching over you and guiding your actions, then you, the individual, have no great responsibility in life. Your destiny is predetermined, and so there can be no free will. If there is no free will, the idea of the soul and its immortality has no meaning. If that is so, then there is no reality or God or universal force. Faith destroys its own end. Between these two opposites, the mechanistic view of life and that of faith, one vacillates, according to the personal inclination of the moment. Dependence on faith at one moment and at another on its opposite, has added to our confusion and sorrow. Now, I say that there is another way of regarding our existence, and of truly comprehending it. Actuality is that which one experiences oneself. It has nothing to do with opposites, either with faith or with the rejection of that which is imperceptible to the senses. All existence is a process of energy which is both conditioned and conditioning. This energy in its self-acting, self-sustaining development, creates its own substance-material, sensation, perception, choice, and consciousness, from which arises individuality. This energy is unique to each individual, to each process which is beginningless. Individuality or consciousness is the result of the process of this unique energy. With consciousness are compounded, ignorance and craving. This consciousness maintains itself by its own volitional activities born of ignorance, tendencies, craving. This self-sustaining process of individuality, which is unique, which has no beginning, is not, as it were, given an impetus, pushed forward, by another force or energy. It is a process which, at all times, is self-active through its own volitional demands, cravings, activities. If you think this out very carefully and deeply, you will see that this has a totally different significance from the mechanistic view of life or that of faith. Those are theories based on the opposites, whereas that which I have explained is not of the opposites. You, as an individual, have to discover for yourself what is the true cause of existence, of suffering and its apparent continuance. As I said, actuality is that which one experiences oneself; one cannot experience a theory, an explanation. By allowing the mind to accept a theory, and to be trained according to that conception, one may have a series of experiences, but they will not be experiences of actuality. Belief or faith has given a certain training to the mind, and experiences based on it are not of actuality, being the product of presuppositions and convictions. Such experiences are merely the result of wish-fulfilment. To comprehend actuality, or to experience reality, there must be discernment. Discernment is that state of integrated thought-emotion in which all craving, choice has ceased; it is not a state induced through mere denial and suppression. All want, craving, perverts discernment, even the craving for reality. Want conditions thought-emotion and so makes it incapable of direct discernment. Hence, if the mind is prejudiced by any theory or explanation, or if it is caught in any belief, such as that of any religion or philosophy, it is utterly incapable of discernment. So, one has to consider first, what are those tendencies and cravings which continue and perpetuate the "I" process. This deep consideration of the process of want and its results, this constant awareness in action, liberates the mind-heart from want, from those self-protective resistances that it has created for itself as security and comfort. For all want acts as an impediment to discernment; all craving distorts perception. All craving, and any experience born from it, makes up the self-sustaining process of the "I". This "I" process with its wants and tendencies creates fear, and from this there arises the acceptance of comfort and security which authority offers. There are various kinds of authority. There is the authority of the outer, the authority of an ideal, and the authority of experience or memory. The authority of the outer is born of fear which makes the mind- heart accept the compulsion of opinion, whether of the neighbour or of the leader, and the assertions of organized belief, called religion, with its systems and dogmas. These assertions and beliefs become part of one's being and consciously or otherwise one's thoughts and actions are adjusting themselves to the pattern established by authority. Then there is the authority of an ideal, which prevents true self-reliance, born of comprehension of actuality. As you cannot understand this struggle and misery, you look to an ideal, to a concept, to guide you across this sea of confusion and suffering. If you carefully examine this want you will see that it is only an escape from actuality, from the conflict of the present. To escape from reality, from the now, you have the authority of an ideal, which becomes sacred through time and tradition. The authority of an ideal prevents the comprehension of the actual. Then there is the authority of experience and memory. We are but the result of the process of time. Each one draws inspiration, guidance and comprehension from the past; the past acts as a background, the past is the storehouse of experience, and the mind has become merely a record of the various lessons of experience. These experiences, with their lessons, have become memories and these memories have become self-protective warnings. If you deeply examine the so-called lessons gained from experiences, you will see that they are merely the cunning desire for self-protection which guides you in the present. This cunning self-protective guidance prevents the comprehension of the living present. Thus experience adds to the storehouse more lessons, more memories, cunning knowledge by which to guide yourself in times of tribulation. But if you examine this so-called knowledge, you will see that it is nothing but self-protective memories stored up for the future and which become the authority that guides and directs action. So, through craving, through want, there is engendered fear, and from this there arises the search for comfort and security, found in the authority of the outer, the authority of the ideal, and the authority of experience. This authority, in its various forms, maintains the "I" process, which is based on fear. Consider your thoughts and activities, and the way of your morality, and you will see that they are based on self-protective fear, with its subtle, comforting authorities. Thus, action born of fear is ever limiting itself, and so the "I" process is self-sustaining, through its own volitional activities. To put it differently, there is the will of want, which is effort, and the will of comprehension, which is discernment. The will of want is ever in search of reward, of gain, and so it creates its own fears. On this is based social morality, and spiritual aspiration is but the attempt to establish protective relationship with the highest. The individual is the expression of the will of want and in the process of its activity, want is creating its own conflict and sorrow. From this the individual tries to escape into idealism, into illusions, into explanations, and so still maintains the process of the "I". The will of comprehension comes into being when there is the cessation of want with its ever recurring experiences. If there is right comprehension of the fact that there cannot be true discernment as long as the will of want continues, this very comprehension brings the "I" process to an end. There is not another or higher "I" to bring this "I" process to an end; no environment and no divinity can bring this "I" process to an end. But the very perception of the "I" process itself, the very discernment of its folly, of its transient nature, brings it to an end. The "I" process is self-sustaining, self-active through its own ignorance, tendencies, cravings. It has to bring itself to an end through the cessation of its own volitional wants. If you deeply understand the significance of this whole conception of the "I", then you will see that you are not the mere environment, opinion or chance, but the creator, the originator of action. You create your own prison of sorrow and conflict. Through the cessation of your own volitional activities, there is reality, bliss. Question: You have said that to comprehend the process of the "I" strenuous effort is required. How are we to understand your repeated statement to the effect that effort defeats awareness? Krishnamurti: Where there is the effort of want, there is choice, which must be based on prejudice, on bias. Awareness is not born of choice, it comes into being when there is the perception of the transiency of the will of choice or the will of want. By constant thoughtfulness and eager interest, the will of want is comprehended and there comes into being the will of comprehension. Where there is the will of want, there must be wrong effort, that effort which must ever produce confusion, limitation, and increase sorrow. Awareness is constant discernment of what is true. Sorrow, and the inquiry into its true cause, not the theoretical but the actual inquiry through experimentation and action, will bring about this awakened pliability of mind-heart. There is no one who does not suffer. He who suffers makes an effort to escape from actuality, and that escape only increases sorrow. But if through silent observation and patience, he discerns the true cause of suffering, that perception itself dissolves the very cause of suffering. Question: Are you still as uncompromising as ever in your attitude towards ceremonies and the Theosophical Society? Krishnamurti: Once you see an act to be wholly foolish, you do not revert to it. If you perceive deeply, as I did, the utter folly of ceremonies, then it can never again have any sway over you. No opinion, though it be of the many, no authority, though it be of tradition or of circumstances, can persuade differently one who has discerned its valuelessness. But as long as one does not see its significance completely, there is a going back to it. It is the same with regard to the Theosophical Society. The idea of organized belief, with its authorities, with its propaganda, with its conversion and exploitation, is to me fundamentally evil. It is not important what I think about the Theosophical Society. What is important is that you shall find out for yourself what is true, what is the actual, not what you want the actual to be; and to comprehend the actual, the real, the true, without any doubt, you must come to it completely denuded of all want, of all desire for security or comfort. Then only is there a possibility of discerning that which is. But as most people are conditioned by want, by craving for security, for comfort, here and in the hereafter, they are utterly incapable of true perception. Before you can understand what is true, either in the teachings of the Theosophical Society or of any other organization, you must first consider whether you are free from want. If you are not, these organizations, with their beliefs, will become the means of exploiting you. If you merely consider their teachings, then you will be lost in opinions, in explanations. So first begin to discern for yourself the process of craving which distorts perception and maintains the "I" process, and nourishes fear. Then these systems, these organizations, with their beliefs, threats and ceremonies, will have no significance at all. Unfortunately we do not begin fundamentally. We think that systems and organizations are going to aid us in getting rid of our prejudices, sorrows and conflicts. We think that they will free us from our limitations, and so, through them, we hope to understand reality. This has never happened, nor ever will. No belief or organization can ever set man free from want, with its fears and agonies. Question: What do you think will become of your soul after the body dies? Krishnamurti: If the questioner examines the motive which prompted his question, he will see that it is fear. There is no fulfilment, no happiness, in the present, so he demands a future life of happiness and opportunity. In other words, the "I" is asking itself whether it will continue. To understand the significance of its desire for continuance, you must understand what the "I" is. As I have tried to explain, faith destroys its own idea of soul. Faith maintains that there is a universal force, a supreme entity outside of man, directing, guiding man's existence, and determining his future. This conception, if you think it out fully, banishes the idea of the soul. If there is no soul, then you turn to the mechanistic view of life and thereby you are merely caught up in the opposites. Truth does not exist in the opposites. If you fully comprehended the significance of the opposites, with their implications, you would then discern the true process of the "I". Then you would see that it is a process of want, conceiving itself in fear, thus sustaining itself through itself. This fear prompts the "I" to ask itself if it has a continuance, if it shall live after the death of the body. The real question then is whether this limitation, the "I", the ego, passing through many experiences and gathering their lessons, finally becomes perfect. Can selfishness ever become perfect through time, through experience? The "I" can become bigger, more expanded, more rich in selfishness, in limitation, taking to itself other units of limitation and selfishness. But surely, this process must ever remain the "I" process, however expanded and glorified. Whether this process continues or comes to an end depends on the comprehension of each individual. When you deeply discern that the "I" process is maintaining itself through its own limitations, its own volitional activities of craving, then your action, your morality, your whole attitude towards life undergoes a fundamental change. In that there is reality, bliss. I can give explanations of the cause of existence and of sorrow. But a man who seeks an explanation will not discern reality. Definitions and explanations act merely as a cloud that darkens perception. This "I" process, about which I have spoken, can be to you but a theory. To discern its actuality you must experience it. To experience this, you must consider it critically, analyze it and experiment with it. The intelligent comprehension of it will alone bring about right action. June 16, 1936 OMMEN CAMP, HOLLAND 1ST PUBLIC TALK 25TH JULY, 1936 Friends, I am very glad to see you all here after many years, and I hope this Camp will be of some definite help to each one of you. I hope too that you will make every possible effort to understand what I shall try to explain, and carry that comprehension into action. I should like you to consider what I say without prejudice, without those instinctive reactions that hinder clear and true thinking. We are not as yet a select body of people who are outside this conflicting world. We are part of it, with its confusion, misery, uncertainty, with its opposing political groups, with its racial and national hatreds, with its wars and cruelties. We are not, as yet, a separate group, nor are we definitely active individuals who, with deep comprehension, are against this present civilization. We are here to understand for ourselves that process of consciousness focussed in each individual, and, in so doing, we shall inevitably put away the false values that have become guiding principles throughout the world. Though you as an individual belonging to a certain class or nation and holding certain beliefs may not be involved in these hatreds and conflicts - you may have by some misfortune protected yourself with different forms of security - yet you must have a definite attitude towards this civilization with its political, social, aesthetic and religious activities. This attitude leading to action must be the comprehension of the process of individual consciousness. The emphasis on the comprehension of individual consciousness is not to be taken as a further encouragement of self-centredness and the narrowing down of comprehensive action. It is only through understanding the process of individual consciousness that there can be spontaneous and true action, without creating or further increasing sorrow and conflict. Please try to understand this point fully. When I talk about individual consciousness I do not mean that process of introspection and self-analysis which gradually limits all activity. To bring about the plenitude of action there must be the comprehension of the process of individuality. I am not concerned with individual or collective progress or with mass activity, but only with right comprehension which will bring about right attitude and action towards work, towards the neighbour, towards the whole of society. So we must deeply comprehend the process of individuality with its consciousness. We must be able to discern in ourselves comprehensively the influence of the mass through traditions, racial prejudices, ideals and beliefs to which we have sur- rendered ourselves, consciously or unconsciously. As long as these dominate us, we, as individuals, are not capable of clear, direct, simple and comprehensive action. So my emphasis on individuality is not to be mistaken as an encouragement to selfish self-expression, nor is it to be understood as a collective acquiescence in an idea or a principle. It is not to be used as an excuse for subjugating oneself to a group of people or to a set of leaders. It is to bring about the right comprehension of the process of individual consciousness, which alone can give rise to spontaneous and true action. To understand this process of individuality there must be the urge to know, not to speculate, not to dream. This comprehension of the process of individuality is not to be confounded with the acceptance of beliefs or of faith, or the giving of oneself over to logical conclusions and definitions. To know really, there must be no inclination to be satisfied by the immediate superficial solution of problems. Many people think that by mere economic rearrangement, most human problems will be solved. Or again, many are easily satisfied with the explanations concerning the hereafter, or with the belief in reincarnation, and so on. But this is not knowledge, this is not comprehension, this is merely a dope that satisfies and dulls the sorrowing mind-heart. To know, to comprehend, there must be will, there must be persistence, there must be a continual and essential curiosity. So, then, what is individuality? Please understand that I am not laying emphasis on egotism, or on your getting rid of it. But when you understand for yourself the process of the "I", then there is a possibility of bringing it to an end. To comprehend this process you must begin fundamentally. Is the so-called soul real or an illusion, is it unique? Does it exist apart and exert its influence over the physiological or psychological being? Shall we, by studying the tissues and organic fluids, know what is thought, what is mind, what is that consciousness which is hidden in living matter? By studying his sociological behaviour shall we know what man is? Economists and physicists have left all this aside, and we, as individuals, we who are suffering, must go into this question deeply and sincerely. As we are dealing with ourselves we need great persistence, right effort and patience to comprehend ourselves. Physicists, economists, sociologists may give us theories, systems and techniques, but we ourselves have to make the right effort to understand the process of our consciousness, to penetrate through the many illusions to reality. Philosophers have given out certain theories and concepts regarding consciousness and individuality. There are many conflicting views, beliefs and assertions concerning reality. Each one of us through introspection and observation realizes that there is a living reality concealed in matter, but it plays very little part in our daily life. It is denied in our activities, in our everyday conduct. Because we have built up a series of walls of self-protective memories, it has become almost impossible to know what is the real. As I said, there are many beliefs, many theories, many assertions about individuality, its processes, its consciousness and its continuity, and the choice of what is true among these varied opinions and beliefs is left to you. Choice is left to those who are not utterly in subjugation to the authority of tradition, belief, or ideal, and to those who have not committed themselves intellectually or emotionally to faith. How can you choose what is true among these contradictions? Is the comprehension of truth a question of choice involving the study of various theories, arguments and logical conclusions which demand only intellectual effort? Will this way lead us anywhere? perhaps to intellectual argumentation; but a man who is suffering desires to know, and to him concepts and theories are utterly useless. Or is there another way, a choiceless perception? It is absolutely essential for our well-being, for our action and fulfilment, to understand what is individuality. You go to religious leaders, psychologists, and perhaps to scientists, and study and experiment with their theories and conclusions. You may go from one specialist to another, trying, according to your pleasure, their methods, but suffering still continues. What is one to do? Action is vital, but not opinions and logical conclusions. You as individuals have to comprehend the process of consciousness through direct, choiceless discernment. The authority of ideal and of desire prevents and perverts true discernment. When there is want, when the mind is caught up in opposites, there cannot be discernment. Psychological reactions prevent true discernment. If we depend on choice, on the conflict of opposites, we shall ever create a duality in our actions, thus engendering sorrow. So we have to discern for ourselves truth, through choiceless life or action. Discernment alone can end this self-poisoning process of suffering that is going on through the action of limitation. Now to discern truth thought must be unbiased, mind must be without want, choiceless. If you observe yourself in action you will see that your want, through the background of tradition, false values and self-protective memories, renews each moment the "I" process which impedes true discernment. So there must be deep, choiceless perception to comprehend the process of consciousness. Such a necessity arises only when there is suffering. To discover the cause of suffering, mind must be acute, pliable, choiceless, not dulled by want nor subdued by theories. If there is no discernment of the process of individual consciousness, then action will ever create confusion, limitation, and so bring about suffering and conflict. As long as we are in this process, our inquiry should be concerned with the cause. But unfortunately most of us are seeking remedies. The comprehension of the cause of suffering brings about a choiceless change of will in the plenitude of our being. Then experience without its accumulative memories which impede comprehension and action, has deep significance. So true experience leads to the discernment of the process of consciousness which is individuality, and cannot intensify the individual consciousness. To discern deeply the cause of suffering you cannot separate yourself from the world, from life, and contemplate consciousness apart, for only in the very process of living can you comprehend consciousness. This deep discernment of choiceless life implies great alertness and right effort. I am going to explain what to me is consciousness from which arises individuality, but please bear this in mind, that it is not an actuality to you, it can only be a theory. To know its actuality your mind must be capable of discernment, of choiceless perception, free from the craving for comfort and security. It is not enough to be merely logical. You will know whether what I say is true only through your own experience, and to experience, the mind must be free of self-created barriers. It is most difficult to be vulnerable, so that the movement of life can be comprehended with a sensitive mind, able to discern that which is enduring and true. To understand the process of individuality you require great intelligence and not the intervention of intellect. To awaken that intelligence there must be the deep urge to know but not to speculate. Please bear in mind that what to me is a certainty, a fact, must be to you a theory, and the mere repetition of my words does not constitute your knowledge and actuality; it can be but an hypothesis, nothing more. Only through experimentation and action can you discern for yourself its reality. Then it is of no person, neither yours nor mine. Now, all life is energy; it is conditioning and conditioned, and this energy in its self-acting development creates its own material, the body with its cells and sensation, perception, discrimination and consciousness. Both energy and forms of energy are ever intermingling, and this makes consciousness appear conceptual as well as actual. Individual consciousness is the result of ignorance, tendency, want, craving. This ignorance is without a beginning, and is compounded with energy, which in its self-acting development is unique, and this is what gives uniqueness to individuality. Ignorance has no beginning but it can be brought to an end. The very comprehension that ignorance is self-sustaining brings that process to an end. That is, you observe how through your own activities you are sustaining ignorance, how through craving, which engenders fear, ignorance is maintained, and how this gives continuity to the "I" process, to consciousness. This ignorance, this "I" process, is maintaining itself through its own volitional activities born of want, craving. With the cessation of self-nourishment the "I" process comes to an end. You will ask me: Can I live at all without want? In the lives of most people, want, craving, plays a tremendous part; their whole existence is the vigorous process of want, and so they cannot imagine life, its richness and beauty, its relationship and conduct, without want. When you begin to discern, through experimentation, how action born of want creates its own limitation, then there is a change of will. Till then there is only a change in will. It is the self-sustaining activity of ignorance that gives to consciousness continuity, ever reforming itself. The fundamental change of will is intelligence. July 25, 1936 OMMEN CAMP, HOLLAND 2ND PUBLIC TALK 27TH JULY, 1936 All of us are in some measure caught up in suffering, whether economic, physical, psychological or spiritual. To understand the cause of suffering and to be free from that cause is our constant problem. To understand the fundamental cause of suffering, we cannot divide man into different parts. Man is indivisible, though he expresses himself through many aspects, and assumes many forms of expression which give him great complexity. There are specialists who study these various divisions and aspects of man and try to discover along their special lines the cause of suffering, but we cannot leave the comprehension of ourselves to another. We must understand ourselves as a whole and examine our own desires and activities. We must discern the "I" process, which seeks ever to perpetuate and maintain itself separately through its own activities. When we fully comprehend this process, there will be the awakening of that intelligence which alone can free us from sorrow. This "I" process is consciousness which is individuality, and the cause of suffering is the ignorance of this self-active process. If we do not comprehend this process, which engenders sorrow, there cannot be intelligence. Intelligence is not a gift but can be cultivated, awakened, through alertness of mind and choiceless life. So action can either create sorrow, or destroy ignorance with its tendencies and cravings and thus end sorrow. You can see for yourself in your life how this process, with its fears, illusions and escapes, diminishes creative intelligence which alone can bring about the well-being of man. The comprehension of reality, truth, comes with the cessation of sorrow. Our consideration of the hereafter, of immortality, is vain pursuit for there can be the bliss of reality only with the cessation of sorrow. To understand suffering we must begin with ourselves, not with the idea of suffering, which is only the arid emptiness of the intellect. We must begin with ourselves, with the agonies, miseries and conflicts which seem to have no end. Happiness is not to be sought after, but with the cessation of sorrow there is intelligence, the bliss of reality. From what source do our daily activities spring? What is the basis of our moral and religious thought? If we examine ourselves deeply, comprehensively, we will see that many of our activities and relationships have their origin in fear and illusion. They are the outcome of craving, of a ceaseless search for both outward and inward security and comfort. This search has produced a civilization in which each individual, subtly or grossly, is fighting for himself, thus engendering hatred, cruelty and oppression. This process has fostered a civilization of exploitation, wars, and organized religious superstition, the results of a false conception of individuality and fulfilment. The external conflict of races and religions, the division of peoples, the economic struggles, have their roots in false ideas of culture. Our lives are in continual conflict because of fear, belief, choice and subjugation. Our environment stimulates the process of ignorance, and our memories and wants renew and give continuity and individuality to consciousness. When you examine this process you will discern that the "I" is reforming itself each moment by its own volitional activities based on ignorance, want and fear. When you begin to realize that the "I" therefore has no permanency, there will be a vital change in your conduct and morality. Then there can be no subservience, acquiescence, but only the action of awakened intelligence which creates ever new conditions, without being enslaved by them. This intelligence alone can bring about true co-operation without frustration. Each one of you must become aware of the process of ignorance. This awareness is not that directive power of a higher comprehension over a lower, which is but a trick of the mind, but that choiceless comprehension which is the outcome of persistent action without fear and want. From this choiceless perception there arise right morality, relationship and action. Conduct is not then the mere imitation of a pattern or ideal, or a discipline, but it is the outcome of true comprehension of the "I" process. This discernment is awakened intelligence which, not being hierarchical or personal, helps to create a new culture of fulfilment and cooperation. Question: Is effort consistent with awareness? Krishnamurti: Please understand what I mean by awareness. Awareness is not the result of choice. Choice implies opposites, a discrimination between the essential and the unessential, between right and wrong. Choice must create conflict for it is based on self-protective prompting, calculation and prejudice. Choice is ever based on memories. Discernment is direct perception, without choice, of what is, and to perceive directly is to be free from the background of want. This can take place only when effort which is now being exerted between opposites ceases. Opposites are the result of want, of craving, and so of fear. With the cessation of fear there is direct perception of what is. We are at present making effort to achieve, to succeed, to conquer one habit by another, to subjugate one fear by another, one longing by another, one ideal by another. So there is constant effort to substitute, to overcome. Such effort is utterly futile, vain; it leads to confusion and not to the awakening of intelligence. If you begin to be aware of this process of choice, of conflict between the opposites, then there is a change of will, and this will is the result of choicelessness. When I talk about right effort, I mean that one should become conscious of the false effort one is making now. Become aware of the background, perceive how each moment thought is modifying itself in limitation through its own volitional activities born of ignorance and fear, which give a continuity to the "I" process, to consciousness. We suffer and we want to escape from that suffering, so we make an effort to seek a remedy, a substitution, but thereby we do not eradicate the cause of suffering. As mind is burdened with many substitutions, many escapes which prevent the birth of choiceless discernment, so effort merely creates further sorrow and frustration. This is false effort. Right effort is the spontaneous discernment of false effort which seeks substitution or escape through the many forms of security. Question: How can one come to an agreement with people who have objectives in life radically different from one's own? Krishnamurti: There cannot be agreement between a false objective and a true objective. There may be agreement between two false objectives. In trying to bring about agreement between the false and the true, we attempt to develop what is called tolerance, with its many false pretences. There can be real agreement only when the objectives are intelligent and true. When two individuals perceive the fundamental illusion of security, there is agreement, co-operation. But if one comprehends the cruelty of acquisitive security and another does not, then there is conflict, and to overcome this friction the false virtue of tolerance is developed, but this does not mean that he who understands is intolerant. Instead of trying to agree, instead of trying to find out the common factor between two absurdities, let us see if we can be intelligent. A man who has fear cannot be intelligent - for fear impedes choiceless discernment. So long as there is acquisitiveness, there cannot be intelligence, for it indicates that the mind is entangled in the process of ignorance and want. The cultivation of virtue is not intelligence. As long as there is the volitional activity of ignorance there must be fear, delusion and conflict. Instead of cultivating tolerance which is but a trick of the mind, there must be the awakening of intelligence which has no self-protective memories and fears. Question: Those who possess - whether land or machinery or labour - do not willingly share with those who are less fortunate. Have not the latter, therefore, the right and, in the last resort, the duty, to take away from those who possess, for the common benefit of all? Are you not rather inclined to waste your teachings on the more fortunate who are the least likely to want to alter the existing economic and social structure? Krishnamurti: I know this is a vital problem for many people. I am not evading it, when I say that I want to deal with all the problems of life comprehensively, integrally, not separately. Where intelligence is functioning freely, these separative problems will not exist. Where there is no intelligence, though you may take over the machinery, the land, the labour, you will again create division with its cruel acquisitiveness and wars. So, from my point of view, what is important is the cultivation of true intelligence which alone can bring about order. There must be that inward revolution, which to me is much more important than the outward upheaval. This inward revolution is not to be postponed. It is much more vital, much more immediate than the outward one. This complete change of will is in your own power. The inward, vital revolution is the result of comprehension and not of compulsion. Intelligence does not recognize riches or poverty. I am not talking either to the rich or to the poor, to the fortunate or to the less fortunate. I am talking to individuals, to whom I say that it is necessary for them to comprehend the process of life because they as individuals are caught up in suffering. They as individuals are the creators of social environment, morality, relationship. So we must deal with man comprehensively and not merely with one of his aspects. As long as there is not that deep comprehension of the process of individuality, mere change will not awaken intelligence. If we discern this truly, we shall not as individuals seek happiness through the various cruelties and absurdities which we call modern civilization. If you comprehend the utter necessity for this inward revolution, this change of will, then you will help naturally, spontaneously, to bring about right order, right action and conduct. Question: Is not the theosophical conception of the Masters of Wisdom and evolution of the soul as sound as the scientific conception of biological growth of life in organic matter? Krishnamurti: That which is capable of growth is not eternal. The theosophic or the religious conception is one of individual growth - the process of the "I" becoming greater and greater by acquiring more and more virtue and comprehension. That is, the "I" is capable of indefinite growth, reaching greater and greater heights of perfection, and to help it onwards Masters, disciplines and religious organizations are necessary. So long as one does not understand what the "I" is, then Masters of some kind or other become an illusory necessity. It may not be a Master in the theosophical sense, it may be a saint of a church or a spiritual authority of an organization. What we have to understand is not whether the Masters exist or not, whether they are necessary or not, but whether the "I" in its growth, in its expansion, can become eternal or lead to the comprehension of truth. The problem is not whether Masterhood is a perfectly natural process, but whether discernment of truth can come to a mind which is held in the "I" process. If you consider the "I" to be eternal, then it cannot grow, it must be timeless, spaceless. So the idea that the "I" becomes a Master through growth, experience, is an illusion. Or, the "I" process is transient. To bring this process to an end, no outside agency however great can ever be of help, for the "I" process is self-active, sustaining itself through its volitional activities. You have to consider whether the "I" is eternal or transient. But it is not a question of choice, for all choice is based on ignorance, prejudice, want. Some of you may not be concerned with the belief in the Masters of the Theosophists, yet when sorrow comes to you, you may seek some other spiritual authority or guidance, and it is this dependence on another that perpetuates the "I" process, with its subtle exploitation and sorrow. Question: Many persons find it very hard to be fully concentrated in their actions. In order to train the capacity for concentration, cannot certain exercises be of great help or do you regard them as hindrances? Krishnamurti: When you are deeply interested there is no necessity for exercises which help you to develop concentration. When you are enjoying beautiful scenery, there is a spontaneity of delight and interest which is beyond all the artificial aids to concentration. It is only when you are not interested that there is a division in consciousness. Instead of trying to find exercises for developing the capacity for concentration, find out if you have deep interest in the things of life. To understand life, you need comprehensive interest, not only in bread and butter but in the processes of thought, of love, in experiences, in relationship. Where there is deep interest there is concentration. Is not the questioner trying to stimulate concentration artificially? Such artificial stimulation becomes a barrier to the rich comprehension of life. Disciplined meditations are artificial stimulations and become barriers which create a division between living actuality and illusory longings and desires. Do not seek the bliss of reality, for the mere search for reality only leads to illusion, but comprehend that process of thought, consciousness, focussed in yourself. This demands not mere concentration but pliability of mind and self-sustained interest. Question: The idea of leadership is, to many, a great inspiration. Also it leads to the cultivation of respect and a spirit of self-sacrifice. In you we recognize a great spiritual leader, and feel profound reverence towards you. Should we not therefore encourage, in others as well as in ourselves, these great qualities of respect and self-sacrifice? Krishnamurti: The show of respect is personally distasteful to me. (Laughter) Please do not laugh. If there were true respect you would not only show it to me but to all. Your show of respect to me only indicates a mentality of barter. You think I am going to give you something, or help you in some way, and so you show respect. What you are really doing is showing respect to an idea that you should display consideration to a person who may help you, but out of this false respect there is born contempt for others. There is no consideration of the ideas in themselves, but unfortunately only of the person who gives forth these ideas. In this lies grave danger, leading to reciprocal exploitation. The mere respect of authority indicates fear which breeds many illusions. From this false respect, there arises the artificial distinction between leaders and followers, with its many obvious and subtle forms of exploitation. Where there is no intelligence there is respect for the few and disdain for the rest. July 27, 1936 OMMEN CAMP, HOLLAND 3RD PUBLIC TALK 28TH JULY, 1936 How is one to awaken that intelligence, that creative intuition which comprehends the significance of reality, without the process of analysis and logic? By intuition I do not mean wish-fulfilment, which it is for most people. If morality, which is relationship, is based upon intelligence and intuition, then there is richness, fullness and an abiding beauty in life. But if we base our conduct and relationship on industrial and biological necessities, then action must inevitably make our life shallow, uncertain and sorrowful. We have the possibility of this intelligence or intuition, but how can it be awakened? What is it that we must do or not do, to awaken this intelligence? All craving with its fears must cease before there can be this creative intuition. The cessation of want is not the result of denial, nor through careful analysis can want be rationalized away. The freedom from want, from its fears and illusions, comes through persistent and silent perception, without the deliberate choice of volition. By this deep observation you will perceive how want engenders fear and illusion, and breaks up consciousness into the past, present and future, into the higher and the lower, into accumulated memories and those to be acquired. So ignorance, with its wants, prejudices and fear, is creating duality in consciousness, and from this duality arise the many problems of control and conflict. From this duality there arises the process of self-discipline through the authority of ideal and memory, which controls and limits action and thus brings about frustration. This limitation of action creates, naturally, further limitations, and so brings about friction and suffering. Thus the wheel of ignorance, fear, prejudice, is set going and prevents complete adjustment to life. Where there is want, there must also be accumulative memories, self-protective calculations, which give to consciousness continuity and identification. This consciousness with its division and conflict creates for itself limitation through its own volitional activities and so maintains its own individuality. It is imprisoned in its own creation, in its own environment, of dark confusion, incessant struggle and frustration. If you silently observe without the interference of choice you will discern this process of ignorance and fear. When the mind perceives that it is engendering its own ignorance and so its own fear, then there is the beginning of choiceless awareness. Through silent observation and deep discernment in which there is no choice and so no conflict, there comes the cessation of ignorance. It cannot be brought about through denial or through mere rationalization. This is the true process of awakening intelligence and intuition. Limited consciousness is the conflict of innumerable wants. Become aware of this conflict, this ceaseless battle of division, but do not try to dominate one part of consciousness with its wants, by the other. When the mind identifies itself with want or with opposites, there is conflict; then the mind tries to escape through illusion and false values and thus merely intensifies the whole process of want. With deep discernment there comes the cessation of want, the awakening of intelligence, of creative intuition. That intelligence is reality itself. Question: I have lost all enthusiasm, all urge in life, which at one time I remember I had. Now, life to me is colourless, a hopeless void, a burden that somehow I must bear. Could you indicate the possible causes which might have brought about this condition, and explain how I might break through this hard shell in which I seem to be? Krishnamurti: Through false values we force ourselves into certain grooves of action, and adjust our thoughts and feelings to certain conditions. So, through our own conditioning we lose our enthusiasm, and consequently life becomes dull and burdensome. To break through this shell of hopelessness we must be conscious of our limited thought and action. When we have become aware of this state, and instead of battling against this hopeless void we deeply consider the causes of frustration, then, without any conflict of antitheses there takes place that vital change which is fulfilment, the rich comprehension of life. If one has merely disciplined the mind without understanding the process of consciousness, or subjugated mental activities and conduct to the authority of an ideal without discerning the stupidity of authority, then life becomes arid, shallow and vain. Unless one fully comprehends the process of consciousness, illusion may momentarily give the necessary impetus to action, but such action must inevitably lead to misery and frustration. The conflict between illusions, though seemingly purposeful and satisfying, must inevitably lead to confusion and sorrow. We have to become aware of the many fears and illusions, and when mind frees itself from them, there is the rich plenitude of life. When you begin to realize the utter futility of want itself, there will be the awakening of that intelligence which brings about right relation- ship with environment. Then only can there be richness and beauty of life. Question: It may sound impertinent to say it, but it is easy for you to advise others to experiment with intelligent action; you will never lack bread. Of what use is your advice to the vast numbers of men and women in the world for whom intelligent action will only mean more hunger? Krishnamurti: Why do you lay so much emphasis on bread? Bread is essential, but by merely laying emphasis on bread you are going to deprive man of it. By laying emphasis on any one need of man, who is indivisible, you are going to deprive him of that very thing which you emphasize. It is fear that leads to unintelligent action and consequently to suffering, and as individuals are held in this fear I am trying to awaken in them the perception of their self-created barrier of ignorance and prejudice. Because each individual is seeking self-security in many forms, there can be no intelligent co-operation with his environment, and there ensue many problems which cannot be superficially solved. If each one of us were fearless, not craving security in any form whatsoever, whether here or in the hereafter, then in this fearless state intelligence could function and bring about order and happiness. By merely considering one part, an artificial division of man who is indivisible, we cannot comprehend the whole of him, and it is only through the comprehension of the whole that the part can be understood. There has always been this problem, whether emphasis should be laid on bread, environment, or on mind and heart. In the past, too, this division has existed, this dualism in man of the soul and the body, each division insisting on its own set of values and thus creating much confusion and misery. And we continue to perpetuate, perhaps in new forms, this artificial and false division of man. One group considers only the importance of bread, and another lays emphasis on the soul. This division of man is utterly false and it must ever lead to unintelligent action. Intelligent action is the outcome of understanding man as a complete being. Question: My sorrows have brought it home to me that I must no longer seek comfort of any kind. I feel convinced that another cannot heal the ache which is in me. And yet, since my sorrow continues, is there something wrong in the way I have taken my suffering? Krishnamurti: You say you no longer seek comfort, but surely has not that search been brought to an end deliberately, through decision, resolve? It is not the spontaneous result of comprehension. It is merely the outcome of a decision not to seek comfort because the search for comfort has brought you disappointment. So you say to yourself: I must no longer seek comfort. When a man who has been deeply hurt through attachment begins to cultivate detachment, praising it as a noble quality, what he is really doing is protecting himself from further hurt - and this process he calls detachment. So in the same way, fear of suffering has made you see that comfort, dependence, involves further suffering, and so you say to yourself: I must not seek comfort, I must be self-reliant. Yet want with its many subtle forms of fear continues. Want creates duality in thought, and when one want creates suffering the mind seeks the opposite of that want. Whether it is a craving for comfort or the denial of comfort, it is the same, it is still want. So the mind maintains the conflict of opposites. When you begin to suffer, do not say, I must get rid of this or that want or cause, but silently observe, without denial or acceptance, and out of this choiceless awareness, want with its fears and illusions begins to yield place to intelligence. This intelligence is life itself and is not conditioned by the compulsion of want. Question: It is said that occult initiations, such as those described by Theosophy and other ancient rites and mysteries, form the various stages of life's spiritual journey. Is this so? Do you remember any sudden change in consciousness in yourself? Krishnamurti: Consciousness is undergoing constant change within its own restrictions and limitations. Within its own circle it is fluctuating, expanding and contracting, and this expanding is called by some, spiritual advancement. But it is still within the confines of its own limitation, and this expanding is not a change of consciousness but only a change in consciousness. This change of consciousness is not the outcome of mysterious rites, or initiations. He who discerns the futility of the change in consciousness, alone can bring about the change of consciousness. To discern and to change fundamentally needs persistent awareness. What is important is whether we can individually bring about this vital change. Let us concern ourselves not with the immediacy of change but only with the fundamental change of consciousness, and for this the "I" process with its ignorance, tendencies, wants, fears, must of itself come to an end. July 28, 1936 OMMEN CAMP, HOLLAND 4TH PUBLIC TALK 29TH JULY, 1936 Action which springs from the self-preserving process of consciousness with its many layers of ignorance, tendencies, wants, fears, cannot liberate the mind from its own self-created limitation, but merely intensifies sorrow and frustration. As long as this process continues, as long as there is no comprehension of this "I" process, not only in its obvious form and expression, but also in its prodigious subtleties, there must be suffering and confusion. Yet this very suffering, from which we are ever trying to escape, can lead us to the comprehension of the "I" process, to the profound knowledge of oneself, but all escapes into illusion must cease. The greater the suffering, the stronger is the indication of limitation. But if you do not suffer it does not necessarily mean that you are free of limitations. On the contrary, it may be that your mind is stagnant within self-protective walls so that no provocations of life, no experiences, can stir it into activity and so awaken it to sorrow. Such a mind is incapable of discerning reality. Suffering can bring about the comprehension of oneself, if you do not try to avoid it or to escape from it. How can we bring to an end the "I" process, so that our action does not create further limitation and sorrow? To bring this "I" process to an end, there must be the consciousness of suffering, not the mere conception of suffering. Unless there is the vital provocation of life, most of us are apt to comfort ourselves to sleep and so allow unconsciously the "I" process to continue. The essential requirement for the discernment of the "I" process is to be fully conscious of suffering. Then there must be the utter certainty that there are no escapes whatsoever from suffering. All search for comfort and superficial remedies then wholly ceases. All ritualistic palliatives cease to have any significance. We then begin to perceive that no external agency can help us to bring this self-sustaining process of ignorance to an end. When the mind is in this state of openness, when it is wholly able to confront itself, then it becomes its own mirror, then there is undivided consciousness; it does not judge its actions by standards, nor is it controlled by the authority of ideal. It is then its own creator and destroyer. Environment with its conditioning influences, and heredity with its limiting characteristics, yield to the comprehension of the "I" process. When the mind discerns this process integrally, it sees itself as the process, utilizing all action, all relationship to sustain itself. In the renewal of itself from moment to moment, through its own volitional activities, the "I" process is perpetuating itself and merely engendering sorrow. The majority of us try to escape from suffering through illusions, logical definitions and conclusions, and so gradually the mind becomes dull, incapable of perceiving itself. Only when the mind perceives itself as it is, as the will of itself, with its many layers of ignorance, fear, want, illusion, when it discerns how through its own volitional activities the "I" process is perpetuating itself, only then is there the possibility of this process bringing itself to an end. When the mind discerns that it is itself creating sorrow, perpetuating the "I" process, and that it is the "I" process itself, then there is a change of will, change of consciousness. The ending of the "I" process is the beginning of wisdom, bliss. We have sedulously developed the idea of a superior and an inferior will in consciousness. This division merely creates conflict, which we seek to end by discipline. Where there is want or fear, its action is as the fuel to a flame, it merely sustains the "I" process. The comprehension of this process demands great awareness and not the effort of choice or of discipline. Question: Is fear a fundamental part of life, so that the understanding of it merely enables us the better to accept it; or is it something that can be transmuted into something else; or again, something that can be wholly eliminated? One often seems able to trace the cause of a particular fear, and yet in other forms fear continues. Why should it be so? Krishnamurti: Fear will exist in different forms, grossly or subtly, as long as there is the self-active process of ignorance engendered by the activities of want. One can wholly eliminate fear, it is not a fundamental part of life. If there is fear there cannot be intelligence, and to awaken intelligence one must fully comprehend the process of the "I" in action. Fear cannot be transmuted into love. It must ever remain as fear even though we try to reason it away, even though we try to cover it up by calling it love. Nor can fear be understood as a fundamental part of life in order to enable us to put up with it. You will not discover the deep cause of fear by merely analyzing each fear as it arises. There is only one fundamental cause of fear, though it may express itself in different forms. By mere dissection of the various forms of fear, thought cannot free itself from the root cause of fear. When the mind neither accepts nor rejects fear, neither escapes from it nor tries to transmute it, then only can there be a possibility of its cessation. When the mind is not caught in the conflict of opposites, then it is able to discern, without choice, the whole of the "I" process. As long as this process continues there must be fear and the attempt to escape from it only increases and strengthens the process. If you would be free of fear, you must fully comprehend action born of want. Question: I am beginning to think that material possessions tend to foster vanity and in addition are a burden; and now I have decided to limit my own material requirements. However, I find it difficult to come to a decision as regards leaving inheritance to my children. Must I, as their parent, take a decision in the matter? I know that I would not consciously pass on a contagious disease if I could possibly avoid it. Would I be right in taking a similar view regarding inheritance and so depriving my children of it? Krishnamurti: The questioner himself says he would not willingly pass on a contagious disease. Now, is inheritance such a disease? To possess or acquire money without working for it breeds a form of mental illness. If you agree with this statement and act by it then you must be willing to face the consequences of your action. You will help to upset the present social system with its exploitation, its cruel and stupid power through the accumulation of money and the privileges of vested interest. Whether possessing or acquiring money without working for it is a disease or not, you must discover for yourself. When you as individuals begin to free yourselves from the disease of fear, you will not ask another whether you should leave your wealth to your children or not. Your action then will have a profound and different significance. Then your attitude with regard to family, class, work, wealth or poverty will undergo a deep change. If there is not this significant change, which is brought about through comprehension and not through compulsion, then artificial problems can only be answered superficially, without any consequence or value. Question: You have talked about the vital urge, the ceaseless awakened state, which, if I understand rightly, would be possible only after one had been through utter loneliness. Do you think it is possible for one to have that great urge and yet be married? To me it seems that however free the husband and wife may be, there will always be invisible threads between the two which must inevitably prevent each from being wholly responsible to himself or herself. Will not the awakened state, therefore, lead to utter and complete detachment from each and all? Krishnamurti: You cannot exist except in relationship with persons, with environment, with tradition, with the background of the past. To be, is to exist in relationship. Either you can make relationship vital, strong, expressive, harmonious, or you can turn it into conflict and pain. It is suffering which forces you to withdraw from relationship, and as you cannot exist without being in relation with something, you begin to cultivate detachment, a self-protective reaction against sorrow. If you love, you are in right relationship with environment; but if love turns into hatred, into jealousy, and creates conflict, then relationship becomes burdensome and painful, and you begin the artificial process of detaching yourself from that which gives you pain. You can intellectually create a self-protective barrier of detachment and live in this self created prison, which slowly destroys the fullness of mind-heart. To live, is to be in relationship. There cannot be harmonious and vital relationship if there are any self-protective desires and reactions which bring about sorrow and conflict. Question: If I understand you rightly, awareness alone and by itself is sufficient to dissolve both the conflict and the source of it. I am perfectly aware, and have been for a long time, that I am "snobbish". What prevents my getting rid of snobbishness? Krishnamurti: The questioner has not understood what I mean by awareness. If you have a habit, the habit of snobbishness for instance, it is no good merely to overcome this habit by another, its opposite. It is futile to fight one habit by another habit. What rids the mind of habit is intelligence. Awareness is the process of awakening intelligence, not creating new habits to fight the old ones. So you must become conscious of your habits of thought, but do not try to develop opposite qualities or habits. If you are fully aware, if you are in that state of choiceless observation, then you will perceive the whole process of creating a habit and also the opposite process of overcoming it. This discernment awakens intelligence which does away with all habits of thought. We are eager to get rid of those habits which give us pain or which we have found to be worthless, by creating other habits of thought and assertions. This process of substitution is wholly unintelligent. If you will observe you will find that mind is nothing but a mass of habits of thought and memories. By merely overcoming these habits by others, the mind still remains in prison, confused and suffering. It is only when we deeply comprehend the process of self-protective reactions, which become habits of thought, limiting all action, that there is a possibility of awakening intelligence which alone can dissolve the conflict of opposites. Question: Will you kindly explain the difference between change in will and change of will? Krishnamurti: Change in will is merely the result of duality in consciousness, and change of will takes place in the plenitude of one's whole being. One is a change in degree and the other is a change in kind. The conflict of want, or the change in the object of want, is merely a change in will, but with the cessation of all want there is a change of will. The change in will is submission to the authority of ideal and conduct. The change of will is discernment, intelligence, in which there is not the conflict of antitheses. In the latter there is deep and spontaneous adjustment; in the former there is compulsion through ignorance, want and fear. Question: Is the renewal of the individual sufficient for the solution of the problems of the world? Does intelligence comprise action for the liberation of all? Krishnamurti: What are the problems of the world? Bread, unemployment, wars, conflicts, opposing political groups, the enjoyment by the few of the riches of the world, class divisions, starvation, death, immortality - these are the problems of the world. Are not these also individual problems? The problems of the world can be understood only through that process which is focussed in each one, the "I" process. Why create this artificial division of the individual and the world? We are the world, we are the mass. If you, as an individual, comprehend the process of division as nationalism, class conflict and racial antagonisms, if you are no longer Dutch, French, German, or English, with all the absurdities of separativeness, then surely you become a centre of intelligence. You are then fighting stupidity wherever you are, though it may lead you to hunger and struggle. If we fully comprehend this through action we can be as oases in the midst of deserts. The process of hatred and division is as old as the centuries. You cannot withdraw from it, but in the midst of it you can be clear, simple, true, without all the encrustations of past stupidities. Then you will see what great understanding and joy you can bring to life. But unfortunately in the moment of great upheavals and wars, you are swept off your feet. Your own potential hatreds and fears are aroused and carry you away. You are not the tranquil oasis, to which suffering humanity can come. So it is of the utmost importance to comprehend the process which engenders these limitations, hatreds, sorrows. Action born of integral understanding will be a liberating force, though the effects of such action may not show themselves in your lifetime or within a set period. Time is of no consequence. A bloody revolution does not bring about lasting peace or happiness for all. Instead of merely desiring immediate peace in this world of confusion and agony, consider how you, the individual, can be a centre, not of peace, but of intelligence. Intelligence is essential for order, harmony and man's well-being. There are many organizations for peace, but there are very few individuals who are free, who are intelligent in the true sense of the word. You must begin as individuals to comprehend reality; then the flame of understanding will spread over the face of the earth. July 29, 1936 OMMEN CAMP, HOLLAND 5TH PUBLIC TALK 1ST AUGUST, 1936 Our minds have become the battleground of ideals, fears and illusions, desires and denials, hopes and frustrations, regimentation and spontaneity. Can we bring the conflict in the mind to an end without creating at the same time emptiness, aridity and frustration? You can suppress conflict for a while by forcing the mind into a certain mould, but this merely creates illusions and maladjustments in life. Most of us try to subjugate our desires, or give them full freedom, but conflict is not thereby ended. Is there a way by which we can end conflict and sorrow without destroying creative intelligence and integral completeness? Can there ever be choiceless living, that is, can there ever be action without denial or aggressive want? Can there be action which is spontaneous and thus free of the conflict of opposites? Can there ever be a life of fullness without the withering process of discipline, denial, fear and frustration? Is such a state of deep comprehension ever possible? I wonder how many of you are vitally conscious of this conflict in the battlefield of the mind. A life of fullness, a life of choiceless action, a life free from the withering process of subjugation and substitution, is possible. How is this state to be realized? Systems and methods cannot produce this happy state of mind. This condition of choiceless life must come about naturally, spontaneously; it cannot be sought after. It is not to be understood or realized or conquered through a discipline, through a system. One can condition the mind through training, discipline, and compulsion, but such conditioning cannot nourish thought or awaken deep intelligence. Such a trained mind is as the soil that is barren. Few of us are deeply conscious of conflict, with its suffering, its subtle, evasive uncertainties, and at the same time of that struggle for certainties on which the mind relies for its security and comfort. The deep and vital consciousness of conflict is as the tilling of the soil. There must only be the process of tilling the soil, there must only be the choiceless awareness of conflict. Now, when there is conflict there is either the desire to escape from it or there is the desire to utilize it for future achievement. But there must be only the deep consciousness of suffering, of conflict, which is but the tilling of the soil, and the mind must not allow itself to search for remedies, substitutions and escapes. There must be the tilling of the soil, the upheaval, the revolution of the mind, and yet, at the same time, there must be stillness, silent perception, without denial, acceptance or resignation. Mind, when it is in conflict, immediately seeks a remedy, and thereby creates artificially an escape for itself, thus hindering the full comprehension of suffering; but through spontaneous discernment alone can there be that direct comprehension, which brings about choiceless adjustment to life. Where there is imitation there must also be fear, and action which is imitative is unintelligent. The discipline of compulsion, of fear, leads to the slow withering of the mind, and there cannot be that choiceless and spontaneous relationship to environment, which alone is right action. There can be right action only when there is the comprehension of the whole process of the "I", which is but the process of ignorance. As long as there is not the discernment of the process of consciousness, of this vast complex of ignorance, memories, wants, tendencies, conflicts, the mere imitation of conduct cannot possibly bring about intelligent and harmonious order in the world, and happiness to man. Such imitation may produce a superficial order of economic industrialism, but it cannot create intelligence. To comprehend the full significance of the "I" process, intelligent persistency is essential, not casual awareness at odd moments. Action born of want or fear can only intensify ignorance and increase limitation and thereby maintain the "I" process. Through the voluntary cessation of want and fear, intelligence is awakened. The awakening of intelligence is the beginning of true action. This intelligence alone can bring about spontaneous adjustment in life without the compulsion of choice. Question: How can I awaken intelligence? Krishnamurti: Where there is no intelligence, there must be suffering. Intelligence can be awakened through choiceless perception of the mind that it is creating for itself escapes by dividing itself into different parts, into different wants. If the mind is aware of these illusory divisions with their values, then there is the awakening of intelligence. The process of choice is merely one want overcoming another, one illusion dispelling another, one set of values substituting itself for another. This duality in consciousness perpetuates conflict and sorrow, and conflict is the lack of integral action. Question: I realize that the liberation of the individual is essential, but how can lasting social order be established without mass effort? Krishnamurti: In all my talks I have been pointing out the utter necessity of individual comprehension. Social order is the outcome of individual comprehension. The emphasis on individual liberation is not an encouragement to selfish activities or narrow self-expression. Only by liberating thought from the limitations which now cripple the mind, can intelligence be awakened, and intelligence alone can bring about true social order. To be responsible for one's actions and to be integral in one's thought implies completeness of being, especially in a world where mass movement seems to be of the greatest importance. It is comparatively easy to create mass enthusiasm for concerted action, but it is very difficult to comprehend oneself and to act rightly. Out of deep comprehension alone can there be co-operation and lasting social order. These talks are not meant to induce mass effort or concerted action; they can only help to create individual comprehension and effort and so free the individual from the prison of self-created limitation. The awakening of integral comprehension of oneself, which is choiceless discernment, will alone bring about true social order, in a world free of exploitation and hatred. Question: Does art belong to the world of illusion or to reality? What relation has art to life? Krishnamurti: Art divorced from life has no reality. Art should not be a superficial expression of man's dual life, but it should be an integral expression of indivisible man. At the present time, art expresses but one aspect of man and so merely emphasizes division. Thus there is a strange separation between actual life and art. When art is the true integral expression of man, his life and activities, then it is of reality, then it has direct relationship with us and our environment. Question: When faced with the agony of the death of someone we love greatly, it is difficult to maintain that life is the most essential thing, and that the consideration of the hereafter is futile. On the other hand, one wonders whether life is, after all, anything more than the physiological and biological processes conditioned by heredity and environment, as some scientists maintain. In this confusion what is one to do? How should one think and act to know what is true? Krishnamurti: As the questioner himself points out, some scientists maintain that heredity explains man's individual tendencies and peculiarities, and others assert that he is the result of environment, merely a social entity. From these confusing assertions, what are we to choose? What is man? How can we understand the significance of death and the deep agony that comes with it? By merely accepting the various assertions, can we solve the sorrow and the mystery of death? Are we capable of choosing, among these explanations, the one that is true? Is it a matter of choice? What is chosen cannot be true. In opposites, the real cannot be found, for opposites are merely the interplay of reactions. If what is true is not to be found in opposites and that which is chosen does not lead to the comprehension of truth, then what is one to do? You must comprehend for yourself the process of your own being, and not merely accept the investigation of scientists or the assertions of religions. In fully discerning the process of your own being, you will be able to comprehend suffering and the agony of loneliness that comes with the shadow of death. Until you perceive the process of yourself, profoundly, the consideration of the hereafter, the theory of reincarnation, the explanations of the spiritists, must remain superficial, giving temporary consolation which only prevents the awakening of intelligence. Discernment is essential for the comprehension of the "I" process. Through discernment alone can be solved the many problems which the "I" process is ever creating for itself. You try to get rid of suffering by explanations, drugs, drink, amusement, or resignation, and yet suffering continues. If you would bring sorrow to an end you must understand the process of division in consciousness which creates conflict and makes the mind a battlefield of many wants. Through choiceless discernment, there is awakened that creative intuition, intelligence, which alone can free the mind-heart from the many subtle processes of ignorance, want and fear. August 1, 1936 OMMEN CAMP, HOLLAND 6TH PUBLIC TALK 2ND AUGUST, 1936 Question: What, according to you, are the basic principles on which to bring up and educate children? Should we always be justified in assuming that children are capable of knowing what is good and what is right for them, and that the less interference and guidance from adults, the better? Krishnamurti: The many problems concerning the education of children can only be solved comprehensively, integrally. Humanity is being educated and regimented according to certain industrial philosophy and religious ideas. If man is nothing but the result of environment and heredity, if he is merely a social entity, then surely the more there is of regimentation, guidance, imposition and compulsion, the better. If this be so, then from a very tender age, the child must be controlled, and its innermost reactions to life must be corrected and disciplined according to industrial necessity and biological morality. Opposed to this conception stands faith, which maintains that there is only one transcendental, universal force, which is God, and everything is part of it, and nothing is unknown to it. Then man is not free and his destiny is predetermined. In faith also there is regimentation of thought through belief and ideal. What we call religious education is merely the forcing of the individual to adapt himself to certain ideas, moralities and conclusions laid down by religious organizations. If you examine both these opposites, the assertions of faith and of science, you will see that though they are in opposition, they both shape man, grossly or subtly, each according to its own pattern. Before we can know how to bring up children, or ourselves, we must comprehend the significance of these opposites. We have created through faith, fear, and compulsion a system of thought and conduct which we call religion and to which we are constantly adjusting ourselves; or, by continual assertion that man is merely a social entity, a product of environment and heredity, we have created a superficial morality which is hollow and barren. So before we can educate children or ourselves, we have to comprehend what man is. Our thought and action spring sometimes from faith and at other times from the reactions of biological or industrial necessity. When there is burning anxiety, fear, uncertainty, we turn to God, we assert that there is a transcendental force which is guiding us, and with the morality of faith we try to live in a world of opportunism, hatred and cruelties. So inevitably there is conflict between the system of faith and the system of egotistic morality. Through either of these systems which are opposed to each other, what man is cannot be discerned. How, then, are we going to discover what man is? We must first become aware of our thought and action, and free them from faith, fear and compulsion. We must disentangle them from the reaction and conflict of opposites in which they are at present held. By being alert and constantly aware, we shall discover for ourselves the true process of consciousness. I have tried to explain this process in my various talks. Instead of belonging to either of the opposite systems of thought - faith and science - we must go above and beyond them, and then only shall we discern that which is true. Then we shall see that there are many energies whose processes are unique, and that there is not one, universal force which puts into motion these separate energies. Man is this unique, self-active energy which has no beginning. In its self-active development there is consciousness, from which arises individuality. This process is self-sustaining through its own activities of ignorance, prejudice, want, fear. So long as the process of ignorance and want exists there must be fear with its many illusions and escapes; from this process arise conflict and suffering. If we truly discern this self-sustaining process of ignorance, then we shall have a wholly different attitude towards man and his education. Then there will not be the compulsion of faith or of superficial morality, but the awakening of intelligence which will adjust itself to all the provocations of life. Until we really understand the significance of all this, mere search for another system of education is utterly futile. To awaken creative intelligence so that each human being is capable of spontaneous adjustment to life, there must be the deep discernment of the process of oneself. No philosophical system can aid one to understand oneself. Comprehension comes only through the discernment of the "I" process with its ignorance, tendencies and fears. Where there is deep and creative intelligence, there will be right education, right action, and right relationship with environment. Question: Does not experience lead to the fullness of life? Krishnamurti: We see many people going through experience after experience, multiplying sensation, living in past memories with future anticipation. Do such people live a life of plenitude? Do accumulative memories bring about the fullness of life? Or is there the plenitude of life only when the mind is open, vulnerable, utterly denuded of all self-protective memories? When there is integral action without the division of many wants, there is fullness, intelligence, the depth of reality. Mere accumulation of experience, or living in the sensation of experience, is but a superficial enrichment of memory, which gives an artificial sensation of fullness, through stimulation. Mere enrichment of memory is not fullness of life; it only builds further self-protective walls against the movement of life, against suffering. Self-protective walls of memory prevent the spontaneity of life and increase resistance and thereby intensify sorrow and conflict. Accumulative memories of experience do not bring about comprehension or the strength of deep pliability. Memory guides us through experiences. We approach each new experience with a conditioned mind, a mind that is already burdened with self-protective memories of fears, prejudices, tendencies. Memory is ever conditioning the mind and creating for it an environment of values in which it becomes a prisoner. As long as self-protective memories exist and give continuity to the "I" process, there cannot be the plenitude of life. So we must understand the process of experience and perceive how the mind is ever gathering lessons out of experience, which become its guide. These lessons, these ideals and guides, which are but self-protective memories, constantly help the mind to escape from actuality. Though the mind seeks to escape from suffering, aided by these memories, it thereby only accentuates fear, illusion and conflict. Plenitude of life is possible only when the mind-heart is wholly vulnerable to the movement of life, without any self-created and artificial hindrances. Richness of life comes when want, with its illusions and values, has ceased. Question: Please speak to us about the beauty and ecstasy of freedom. Is it possible to attain that happy state without the use of meditation or other methods suitable to our stage? Krishnamurti: Why do you want me to speak to you about the beauty and ecstasy of freedom? Is it in order to have a new sensation, a new imaginative picture, a new ideal, or is it because you hope to create in yourself through my description an assurance, a certainty? You desire to be stimulated. As when you read a poem you are carried away by the momentary vision of the poet's fancy, so you want the stimulation of my description. When you look at a beautiful painting you are transported for a while, by its loveliness, from your daily conflict, misery and fear. You escape, but soon you return to your sorrow. Of what avail is my describing to you the indescribable? No words can measure it. So let us not ask what is truth, what is freedom. You will know what is freedom when you are deeply conscious of the walls of your prison, for that very awareness dissolves the self-created limitations. When you ask what is truth, what is the ecstasy of freedom, you are only demanding a new escape from the weary burden of everyday struggle, passion, hatred. Occasionally we are aware of the loveliness of the indescribable, but these moments are so rare that we cling to them in memory and try to live in the past, with actuality ever present. This but creates and perpetuates conflict and illusion. Do not let us live through imagination in an anticipated future, but let us be conscious of our everyday struggles and fears. There are the few who, comprehending the self-sustaining process of ignorance, have brought it voluntarily to an end. And there are the many who have almost escaped from the actual; they cannot discern the real, the everbecoming. No system, philosophical or scientific, can lead them to the ecstasy of truth. No system of meditation can free them from self-engendered, self-active illusions, conflicts and miseries, which are so insistent that they help to create those conditions which prevent the fruition of intelligence. You mean by meditation a set of rules, a discipline, which, if followed, you hope will help you to awaken intelligence. Can compulsion, either of reward or of punishment, bring about creative intuition of reality? Must you not be conscious, deeply aware of the process of ignorance, want, which is creating further want and so ever engendering fear and illusion? When you really begin to be aware of this process, that very awareness is meditation, not the artificial meditation for a few minutes of the day in which you withdraw from life to contemplate life. We think that by withdrawing from life, even for a minute, we shall understand life. To understand life we must be in the flow of life, in the movement of life. We must be cognizant of the process of ignorance, want and fear, for we are that very process itself. I am afraid that many of you who hear me often but do not experiment with what I say, will merely acquire a new terminology, without that fundamental change of will which alone can free the mind-heart from conflict and sorrow. Instead of asking for a method of meditation, which is but an indication of wanting an escape from actuality, discern for yourself the process of ignorance and fear. This deep discernment is meditation. Question: You say that discipline is futile, whether external or self-imposed. Nevertheless, when one takes life seriously, one submits oneself inevitably to a kind of voluntary self-discipline. Is there anything wrong in this? Krishnamurti: I have tried to explain that conduct born of compulsion, whether it be the compulsion of reward or of punishment, of fear or of love, is not right conduct. It is merely an imitation, a forcing and training of the mind according to certain ideas, in order to avoid conflict. This kind of discipline, imposed or voluntary, does not lead to right conduct. Right conduct is possible only when we understand the full significance of the self-active process of ignorance and the reforming of limitation through the action of want. In deeply discerning the process of fear there is the awakening of that intelligence which brings about right conduct. Can intelligence be awakened through discipline, imposed or voluntary? Is it a question of training thought according to a particular pattern? Is intelligence awakened through fear which makes you subjugate yourself to a standard of morality? Compulsion of any kind, whether externally or voluntarily imposed, cannot awaken intelligence, for imposition is the outcome of fear. Where there is fear there cannot be intelligence. Where intelligence is functioning there is spontaneous adjustment without the process of discipline. So the question is not whether discipline is right or wrong, or whether it is necessary, but how the mind can be free from self-created fear. For when there is freedom from fear there is not the sense of discipline, but only the plenitude of life. What is the cause of fear? How is fear engendered? What is its process and expression? There must be fear so long as there is the "I" process, the consciousness of want, which limits action. All action born of the limitation of want only creates further limitation. This constant change of want, with its many activities, does not free the mind from fear; it but gives to the "I" process an identity and a continuity. Action springing from want must ever create fear and thereby hinder intelligence and the spontaneous adjustment to life. Instead of asking me if it is right or wrong to discipline yourself, be conscious of your own want, and then you will see how fear comes into being and perpetuates itself. Instead of wanting to get rid of fear, be deeply conscious of want, without compulsion of any kind. Then there will be the cessation of fear, the awakening of intelligence and the deep plenitude of life. August 2, 1936 OMMEN CAMP, HOLLAND 7TH PUBLIC TALK 3RD AUGUST, 1936 To discern reality mind must be infinitely pliable. Most of us imagine that beyond and above the mind there is reality, that beyond and above this consciousness of conflict and limitation, pleasure and sorrow, there is truth. But to understand reality mind must comprehend its own creations, its own limitations. To discern the process of consciousness, which is conceptual as well as actual, to go deeply into its tremendous subtleties, mind must be exquisitely pliable and there must be integral thought. Integral thought is not the result of training, control or imitation. A mind that is not divided into opposites, that is able to perceive directly, cannot be the result of training. It is not the outcome of one will dominating another will, one want overcoming another want. All antithesis in thought must be false. Mind consciously or unconsciously plays a trick on itself by dividing itself. Training and control indicate a process of duality in want, which brings about conflict in consciousness. Where there is conflict, subjugation, overcoming, a battle of antitheses, there cannot be pliability, mind cannot be subtle, penetrating, discerning. Through the conflict of opposites mind becomes conditioned; and conditioned thought creates further limitations and thus the process of conditioning is continued. This process prevents pliability. How is one to bring about that state which is not the result of the conflict of opposites? We must become aware of the conflict of opposites taking place in each one of us, without identifying ourselves with one of the opposites or interfering with the conflict. Conflict stirs up the mind, and as the mind dislikes being agitated it seeks an artificial way out of that disturbed condition. Such a way must be an escape or an opposite, which but creates for the mind further limitation. To be in conflict and at the same time to be vibrantly still, neither accepting nor denying it, is not easy. Being in a state of conflict and at the same time seeking no remedy or escape, brings about integral thought. This is right effort. To free the mind from the conflict of the opposites, you must become cognizant of the process of overcoming one part of consciousness by another, one division by another. This process you call training the mind; but it is nothing more than the formation of a habit born of the opposites. Let us consider the mind caught up in authority. There is the authority of outward compulsion, of groups, leaders, opinions, traditions. You may yield to this authority without fully comprehending it, and assert that it is from voluntary choice; but if you really examine yourself you will see that in that choice there is a deep desire for security, which creates fear, and to overcome that fear you submit yourself to authority. Then there is the subtle, subjective authority of accumulative memories, prejudices, fears, antipathies, wants, which have become values, ideals, standards. If you deeply examine it you will see that the mind is constantly accepting and rejecting authority and conditioning itself by new values and standards born of craving for self-protection and security. You may say to yourself that you are not in any way seeking security which creates the many subtle forms of authority, but if you observe you will see that you are seeking insecurity in order that you may become convinced of the falseness of security. So the idea of insecurity becomes only another form of security and authority. When you reject authority and seek freedom from it, you are but seeking the antithesis; whereas true freedom, the intelligent and awakened state of mind, is beyond opposites. It is that vibrant stillness of deep thought, of choiceless awareness, that creative intuition, which is the plenitude of life. Question: If I am in conflict with family, friends, employers, and state laws, in fact, with the various forms of exploitation, will not seeking liberation from all bondage make life practically impossible? Krishnamurti: I am afraid it would, if you were merely seeking liberation as an opposite of conflict and so an escape from actuality. If you desire to make life practical, vital, then you must understand the whole process of exploitation, both the obvious and the insidious. Mere escape from conflict with family, friends, and environment will not free you from exploitation. It is only in comprehending the significance of the whole process of exploitation that there is intelligence. Intelligence makes life possible, practical and vital. I mean by intelligence, not the superficial, intellectual process, but that change of will which is brought about by the integral completeness of one's whole being. We are well acquainted with the obvious forms of exploitation but there are the many subtle forms of which we are unconscious. If you would really comprehend exploitation in its obvious and subtle forms, you must discern the "I" process, that process which is born of ignorance, want, fear. All action born of this process must entail exploitation. Many people withdraw from the world to contemplate reality, and hope to bring the "I" process to an end. You should not withdraw from life to consider life. This escape does not bring the "I" process of igno- ance, want, and fear to an end. To live is to be in relationship, and when that relationship begins to be irksome, limited, it creates conflict, suffering. Then there is the desire for the opposite, an escape from relationship. One does very often escape, but only into a shallow, arid life of fear and illusion, which intensify conflict and bring about slow decay. It is this escape which is impractical and confusing. If you would strip life of all its ugliness and cruelty you must, through right effort, bring the self-sustaining process of ignorance to an end. Question: If truth is beyond and above all limitations it must be cosmic, and hence embrace within it every expression of life. Should not such cosmic consciousness, therefore, include the understanding of every aspect and activity of life, and exclude none? Krishnamurti: Do not let us concern ourselves about what is cosmic consciousness, truth, and so on. That which is real will be known when the various forms of illusions have ceased. As the mind is capable of such subtle deceptions and has the power to create for itself many illusions, our concern should not be about the state of reality, but to dispel the many delusions that are consciously or unconsciously springing up. By belonging to a religious organization with its dogmas, beliefs, creeds, or by being one of these new dogmatic nationalists, you hope to realize God, truth, or human happiness. But how can the mind comprehend reality if it is twisted by beliefs, prejudices,dogmas and fears? Only when these limitations are dissolved can there be truth. Do not preconceive what is and then adjust to that conception your wants. To love man you think you must belong to some nationality; to love reality you think it is necessary to belong to some organized religion. As we have not the capacity to discern truth among the many illusions that crowd our mind, we deceive ourselves by thinking that the false as well as the true, hate as well as love, are essential parts of life. Where there is love, hatred cannot exist. To comprehend reality you need not go through all the experiences of illusion. Question: How can we solve the problems of sex? Krishnamurti: Where there is love the problem of sex does not exist. It becomes a problem only when love has been displaced by sensation. So the question really is how to control sensation. If there were the vital flame of love, the problem of sex would cease. Now sex has become a problem through sensation, habit and stimulation, through the many absurdities of modern civilization. Literature, cinemas, advertisements, talk, dress - all these stimulate sensation and intensify the conflict. The problem of sex cannot be solved separately, by itself. It is futile to try to understand it through behaviouristic or scientific morality. Artificial restrictions may be necessary but they can only produce an arid and shallow life. We all have the capacity for deep and inclusive love, but through conflict and false relationship, sensation and habit, we destroy its beauty. Through possessiveness with its many cruelties, through all the ugliness of reciprocal exploitation, we slowly extinguish the flame of love. We cannot artificially keep the flame alive, but we can awaken intelligence, love, through constant discernment of the many illusions and limitations which now dominate our mind-heart, our whole being. So what we have to understand is, not what kind of restrictions, scientific or religious, should be placed on wants and sensations, but how to bring about deep and enduring fulfilment. We are frustrated on every side; fear dominates our spiritual and moral life, forcing us to imitate, conform to false values and illusions. There is no creative expression of our whole being, either in work or in thought. So sensation becomes monstrously important and its problems overwhelming. Sensation is artificial, superficial, and if we do not penetrate deeply into want and comprehend its process our life will be shallow and utterly vain and miserable. The mere satisfaction of want or the continual change in want destroys intelligence, love. Love alone can free you from the problems of sex. Question: You say that we can become fully aware of that"I" process which is focussed in each one of us individually. Does that mean that no experience can be of any value except to the person who has it? Krishnamurti: If you are conditioning thought by your own experience, how can the experience of another liberate it? If you have conditioned your mind through your own volitional activities, how can the comprehension of another free you? It may stimulate you superficially but such help is not lasting. If you comprehend this, then the whole system of what is called spiritual help, through worship and discipline or through messages from the hereafter, has very little significance. If you discern that the "I" process is maintaining itself through its own volitional activities, born of ignorance, want, and fear, then the experience of another can have very little significance. Great religious teachers have declared what is moral and true. Their followers have merely imitated them and so have not fulfilled. If you say that we must have ideals by which to live, this but indicates that there is fear in your mind-heart. Ideals create duality in consciousness, and so merely continue the process of conflict. If you perceive that the awakening of intelligence is the ending of the "I" process, then there is spontaneous adjustment to life, harmonious relationship with environment, instead of the compulsion of fear, or the imitation of an example, which but increases the "I" process of ignorance, want, fear. Now if each one of you really perceived this, I assure you, there would be a vital change in your will and attitude towards life. People often ask me: Should we not have authority? Should we not follow Masters? Should we not have discipline? There are others who say: Do not talk to us about authority, because we have gone beyond it. So long as the "I" process continues there must be the many subtle forms of authority, of want, with its fears, illusions and compulsion. Authority of example implies that there is fear, and as long as we do not understand the "I" process mere examples will only become hindrances. Question: Is there any such being as God, apart from man? Has the idea of God any value to you? Krishnamurti: Why are you asking me this question? Do you want me to encourage you in your faith or support you in your disbelief? Either there is God or there is not. Some assert that there is, and some deny. Man is perplexed by these contradictions. To discern the actual, the real, mind must be free of opposites. I have explained that the world is made up of unique forces without a beginning, which are not propelled by one supreme force or by one transcendental, unique energy. You cannot understand any other process of energy except that which is focussed in you, which is you. This unique energy in its self-active development becomes consciousness creating its own limitations and environment, both conceptual and actual. The "I" process is self-sustaining through its own volitional activities of ignorance, want. So long as the "I" process continues there must be conflict, fear, and duality in action. In bringing the volitional activities to an end, there is bliss, the love of the true. When you suffer, you do not consider the cause of the whole process of suffering, but only desire to escape into an illusion which you call happiness, reality, God. If all illusion is perceived and there is deep discernment of the cause of suffering, which awakens right effort, then there is the immeasurable, the unknowable. Question: Has the idea of predestination any actual validity? Krishnamurti: Action arising each moment from limitation, ignorance, modifies and renews the "I" process, giving to it continuity and identity. This continuity of action through limitation is predestination. By your own acts you are being conditioned, but at any moment you can break the chain of limitation. So you are a free agent at all times, but you are conditioning yourself through ignorance, fear. You are not the plaything of some entity, of some mysterious force, good or evil. You are not at the mercy of some erratic forces in the world. You are not merely controlled by heredity or environment. When we think about destiny, we imagine that our present and future are determined by some external force and so we yield to faith. We accept, on the authority of faith, that some unique energy, intelligence, God, has already settled our destiny. In opposition to faith we have science, with its mechanistic explanations of life. What I say cannot be understood through the opposites. Thought is conditioned by ignorance and fear, and through its own volitional activities, consciousness sustains itself and maintains its identity. Action born of limitation must create further conditioning of the mind; that is, ignorance of oneself forms a chain of self-limiting actions. This process of self-determining and self-limiting thought-action gives identity and continuity to consciousness as the "I". The past is the background of conditioned thought-action which is dominating and controlling the present and thereby creating a predetermined future. An act born of fear creates certain memories or self-protective resistances which determine future action. Thus the past controlling the present is overshadowing the future. So there is a chain formed which holds thought in bondage. The choiceless awareness of this process is the beginning of true freedom. If the mind is cognizant of the process of ignorance, it can liberate itself from it at any moment. If you deeply comprehend this you will see that thought need not ever be conditioned by cause and effect. If this is understood, lived, there is vital freedom, without fear, without the superficiality of antithesis. August 3, 1936 OMMEN CAMP, HOLLAND 8TH PUBLIC TALK 4TH AUGUST, 1936 I hope you have spent these ten days in purposeful thought, for now you have to return to face the daily routine of conflicts and problems in a world gone mad with hatred. We have been trying during these few days to understand in what way we can deal with the many complex problems of man. Without deep penetration into the whole process of human struggle, mere superficial response to reactions can only lead to greater conflict and suffering. This Camp, I hope, has given each one of us an opportunity to think integrally, fully and truly. Going out into the world again, each one of us has to cope with the many problems of his religious, social and economic environment, with its conflicting and sorrowful divisions. By tracing each problem back to its cause, shall we be free from conflicts? By studying reactions, can we perceive the cause of all action? Science and religion with their conflicting assertions have only created division in the mind. How are we with our intricate, subtle human problems to know what is the true centre or cause of all action with its conflict and suffering? Until we discover for ourselves this centre of action, and discern it comprehensively, integrally, the mere analysis of reactions, or the reliance on faith, will not free the mind from ignorance and sorrow. If we fully discern the centre of all action we will bring about a tremendous change in our outlook and activities. Without understanding the process of action, mere tinkering with social reforms or economic changes is utterly useless; it may produce results, but they can only be superficial remedies. There are many unique separative forces or energies at work in the world, which we cannot wholly understand. We can only understand fundamentally and integrally the unique energy which is focussed in each one of us, which is the "I". It is the only process we can understand. To understand the process of this unique energy, the "I", you need deep discernment, not the study of intellectual deductions and analysis. You must have a mind that is capable of great pliability. A mind that is burdened with want and fear, which creates opposites and from which arises choice, is incapable of discerning the subtle process of the "I", the centre of all action. As I have explained, this energy is unique; it is conditioning and conditioned at the same time. It is creating its own limitation through its own action born of ignorance. This unique energy, without a beginning, has in its self-active development become consciousness, the "I" process. This consciousness, which is conditioning itself through its own volitional activities, this "I" process of ignorance, wants, fears, illusions, is the centre of action. This centre is continually reforming itself, and creating anew its own limitation through its own volitional activities, and so there is always conflict, pain, sorrow. There must be a fundamental change in consciousness, in this very centre of action; mere discipline and the authority of ideals cannot bring about the cessation of suffering and sorrow. You have to discern that the "I" process, with its fear and illusion, is transient, and so can be dissolved. Many of you subtly believe that the "I" is eternal, divine, and that without the "I" there cannot be activity, there cannot be love, and that with the cessation of the "I" process there can only be annihilation. So you must first discern profoundly for yourselves if the "I" process is everenduring, or if it is transient. You must know what is its nature, its being. This is a very difficult task, for most of you have been brought up through faith in the religious tradition which makes you cling to the "I" and prevents you from perceiving its true essence. Some of you, who have cast aside religious beliefs, only to accept scientific dogmas, will equally find it difficult to know the true nature of the centre of action. Superficial inquiry into the nature of the "I", or casual assertion of its divinity, merely indicates an essential lack of understanding of the true nature of the "I" process. You can discern for yourself what it is, as I know for myself its real nature. When I say this, it is not to encourage a belief in my comprehension of the "I" process. Only when you know for yourself what it is, can this process be brought to an end. With the cessation of the "I" process there is a change of will, which alone can end suffering. No system, no discipline, can bring about the change of will. Become aware of the "I" process. In choiceless awareness, duality which exists only in the action of want, fear and ignorance, ceases. There is simply the perception of the actor, with his memories, wants and fears, and his actions; the one centre perceiving itself without objectifying itself. Mere control or compulsion, one want overcoming another want, mere substitution, is but a change in will, which can never bring suffering to an end. The change in want is a change in limitation, further conditioning thought, which results in superficial reformation. If there is change of will through the comprehension of the "I" process, then there is intelligence, creative intuition, from which alone can come harmonious relationship with individuals, with environment. Through discernment of the "I" process of ignorance there comes awareness. It is choiceless spontaneity of action, not action born of discrimination which is weighing one act against another, one reaction against another, one habit of thought against another. When there is the full comprehension and so the cessation of the "I" process there comes a choiceless life, a life of plenitude, a life of bliss. Question: When one encounters those who are caught up in the collective thought and mass psychology which are responsible for much of the chaos and strife around us, how can one extricate them from their mass mentality and show them the necessity of individual thought? Krishnamurti: First extricate yourself from mass psychology, from collective thoughtlessness. This extrication of thought from the stupidities of ages is a very difficult task. Thoughtlessness and stupidity of the mass exist in us. We are the mass, conscious of some of its stupidities and cruelties but mostly unconscious of its overpowering prejudices, false values and ideals. Before you can extricate another you must free yourself from the great power of those wants and fears. That is, you must know for yourself what are the stupidities, what are those values which condition life and action. Some of you are conscious of the obviously false values of hatred, national divisions and exploitation, but you have not discerned the process of these limitations and freed yourselves from them. When you begin to perceive the false values that hold you, and discern their significance, then you will know what a tremendous change takes place in you. Then only can you truly help another. Though you may not become a leader of great multitudes, though you may not accomplish spectacular reforms, if you really grasp the significance of what I am saying, you will become as an oasis in a burning desert, as a flame in darkness. The ending of the "I" process is the beginning of wisdom which alone can bring intelligent order and happiness to this chaotic world. Question: Some of us have listened to you for ten years, and while, as you encouragingly remark, we may have changed a little, we have not changed radically. Why is this? Must we wait for the urge of suffering? Krishnamurti: I do not think you need to wait for the urge of suffering to change you radically. You are suffering now. You may be unconscious of conflict and sorrow, but you are suffering. What brings about superficial change is thought that is seeking superficial remedies, escapes and security. Profound change of will can come about only when there is the deep comprehension of the "I" process. In that alone is there the plenitude of intelligence and love. Question: What is your idea of evolution? Krishnamurti: Obviously there is simplicity and there is great complexity; simplicity and great complexity of form; simplicity and great subtlety of thought; the simple wheel of many thousands of years ago and the complex machinery of today. Is the simple becoming complex, evolution? When you talk about evolution you are not thinking merely about the evolution of form. You are thinking about the subtle evolution of consciousness which you call the "I". From this there arises the question: Is there growth, a future continuance, for individual consciousness? Can the "I" become all-comprehensive, permanent, enduring? That which is capable of growth is not eternal. That which is enduring, true, is ever becoming. It is choiceless movement. You ask me if the "I" will evolve, become glorious, divine. You are looking to time to destroy and diminish sorrow. So long as the mind is bound to time there will be conflict and sorrow. So long as consciousness is identifying itself, renewing and reforming itself through its own activities of fear, which are time-binding, there must be suffering. It is not time that will free you from suffering. Craving for experience, for opportunity, comparing memories, cannot bring about the plenitude of life, the ecstasy of truth. Ignorance seeks the perpetuation of the "I" process; and wisdom comes into being with the cessation of the self-active renewal of limited consciousness. Mere complexity of accumulation is not wisdom, intelligence. Mere accumulation, growth, time, does not bring about the plenitude of life. To be without fear is the beginning of understanding, and fear is ever in the present. Question: As a living example of one who has attained liberation, you are a tremendous source of encouragement to us who are still involved in suffering. Is there not a danger that in spite of ourselves this very encouragement might become a hindrance to us? Krishnamurti: I hope I am not becoming an example for you to follow because I speak of the process of suffering and ignorance, the illusion of the mind, the false values created by fear, the freedom of truth. An example is a hindrance; it is born of fear which leads to compulsion and imitation. Imitation of another is not the comprehension of oneself. To know oneself there can be no following of another; there cannot be compulsive memories which prevent the "I" process from revealing itself. When the mind has ceased to escape from suffering into illusions and false values, then that very suffering brings understanding, without the false motives of reward and punishment. The centre of action is ignorance and its result is suffering. The following of another or the disciplining of the mind according to the authority of an ideal will not bring about plenitude of life nor the bliss of reality. Question: Is there any way in the world by which we can end the stupid horror which again we see perpetrated in Spain? Krishnamurti: War is the problem of humanity. How are we going to end mass and individual barbarities? To arouse mass action against the horrors, cruelties and absurdities of the present civilization there must be individual comprehension. Begin with yourself. Root out the appallingly cruel prejudices and wants, and you will know a happy world. Root out your personal ambitions and subtle exploitations, acquisitiveness and the craving for power. Then you will have an intelligent and orderly world. As long as there is cruelty and violence in the individual, collective hatred, patriotism and strife must continue. When you realize your individual responsibility in action, then there will be the possibility of peace and love and harmonious relationship with your neighbour. Then there will be the possibility of ending the horror of strife, the horror of man killing man. August 4 1936 MADRAS 1ST PUBLIC TALK 6TH DECEMBER, 1936 In this world of conflict and suffering, right comprehension alone can bring about intelligent order and lasting happiness. To awaken intelligent thought there must be right effort on the part of each individual, effort which is not induced by personal reactions and fancies, by beliefs and ideals. Such thought alone can produce right organization of life and true relationship between the individual and society. I shall try to help you, the individual, to think directly and simply, but you must have the intense desire for comprehension. You must free yourself from the prejudice of loyalty to particular beliefs and dogmas, from the prejudices of habitual conduct moulded by traditions of thoughtlessness. You must have the burning desire for experimentation and action, for only through action can you truly perceive that authority, beliefs, ideals, are definite hindrances to intelligence, to love. But I am afraid most of you come merely by habit to listen to these talks. This is not a political meeting. Nor do I wish to incite you to some economic, social or religious action. I do not want a following nor do I seek your worship. I do not want to become a leader or create a new ideology. I desire only that we should attempt to think together clearly, sanely, intelligently; and from this process of true thinking, action will inevitably follow; thought is not to be separated from action. Right comprehension of life cannot come about if, in any form, there is fear, compulsion. Creative understanding of life is prevented when thought and action are constantly impeded by authority, the authority of discipline, of reward and punishment. By the directness of creative action you will discern that the ruthless search for individual security must inevitably lead to exploitation and suffering. Only through dynamic thought-action can there come about that complete inward revolution with its possibility of true human relationship between the individual and society. What, then, is our individual answer to the present complex problem of living? Do we meet life with the particular point of view of religion, science, or economics? Do we cling to tradition, whether old or new, without thought? Can this prodigiously subtle, complex thing called life be understood by dividing it into different parts, as political, social, religious, scientific; by laying emphasis on one part and disregarding the others? It is the fashion nowadays to say: Solve the economic problem first, and then all other problems will be solved. If we regard life merely as an economic process, then living becomes mechanical, superficial and destructive. How can we grasp the subtle, unknown, psychological process of life by merely saying that we must solve first the question of bread? The mere repetition of slogans does not demand much thought. I do not mean to say that bread is not a problem; it is an immense problem. But by laying emphasis on it, and by making it our chief interest, we approach the complexity of life with narrowness of mind and thereby only further complicate the problem. If we are religious, that is, if our minds are conditioned by beliefs and dogmas, then we merely add further complexity to life. We must view life comprehensively with deep intelligence, but most of us try to solve life's problems with conditioned minds burdened with tradition. If you are a Hindu you seek to understand life through the particular beliefs, prejudices and traditions of Hinduism. If you are a Buddhist, a socialist, or an atheist, you try to comprehend life only through your special creed. A conditioned, limited mind cannot understand the movement of life. Please do not look to me for a panacea, a system, or a mode of conduct; because I regard systems, modes of conduct, and panaceas as hindrances to the intelligent comprehension of life. To understand the complexity of life, mind must be extremely pliable and simple. Simplicity of mind is not the emptiness of negation, renunciation or acceptance; it is the fullness of comprehension. It is the directness of perception, of integral thought, unhindered by prejudice, fear, tradition, and authority. To free the mind from these limitations is arduous. Experiment with yourself and you will see how difficult it is to have integral thought, unconditioned by provocative memory with its authority and discipline. And yet with such thought alone can we comprehend the significance of life. Please see the importance of a pliable mind, a mind that knows the intricacies of fear with its illusions and is wholly free from them, a mind that is not controlled by environmental influences. Before we can comprehend the full significance of life, its vital processes, thought unconditioned by fear is necessary; and to awaken that creative thought, we must become conscious of the complex, the actual. What do I mean by "being conscious"? I mean not only the objective perception of the interrelated complexity of life, but also the complete awareness of the hidden, subtle, psychological processes from which arise confusion, joy, struggle, and pain. Most of us think that we are conscious of the objective complexity of life. We are conscious of our jobs, of our bosses, of ourselves as employers or as the employed. We are conscious of friction in relationship. This perception of the mere objective complexity of life is not, to me, full consciousness. We become fully conscious only when we deeply relate the psychological to the objective complexity. When we are able to relate through action the hidden with the known, then we are beginning to be conscious. Before we can awaken in ourselves this full consciousness from which alone can come true creative expression, we must become aware of the actual, that is, of the prejudices, fears, tendencies, wants, with their many illusions and expressions. When we are thus aware, we shall know the relationship of the actual to our action which limits and conditions thought-emotion with its reactions, hopes and escapes. When we are conscious of the actual there is the immediate perception of the false. That very perception of the false is truth. Then there is no problem of choice, of good and evil, false and true, the essential and unessential. In perceiving what is, the false and the true are known, without the conflict of choice. Now, you think you are able to choose between the false and the true. That choice is based on prejudice; it is induced by preconceived ideals, by tradition, hope, and so the choice is only a modification of the false. But, if you are able to perceive the actual without any desire or identification, then in that very perception of the false there is the beginning of the true. That is intelligence, which is not based on prejudice, tradition, want, and that alone can dissolve the subtle essence of all problems, spontaneously, richly, and without the compulsion of fear. Let us find out, if we can, what is the actual, without interpretation, without identification. When I speak of your beliefs and theories, your worships, your Gods, your ideals and leaders, when I speak of the disease of nationalism, of systems of gurus and masters, do not project defensive reactions. All that I am trying to do is to point out what I consider to be the cause of conflict and suffering. Action from integral thought, without identification and interpretation, will awaken creative intelligence. If you are deeply observant you will begin to see what is true; then you will awaken intelligence, without the continual conflict of choice. Mere conduct according to a standard is imitative, not creative. Intelligent action is not imitation. Only the conditioned mind is always adjusting itself to standards, because it is afraid to know what is. If you perceive the actual in all its clarity, as it is, without interpretation and identification, then at the very instant of perception there is the dawning of new intelligence. This intelligence alone can solve the tremendously complicated, conflicting and painful problems of life. What is the picture of ourselves and of the world? The division as ourselves and the world seems actual, though such division disappears when we deeply examine the individual and the mass. The actual is the conflict between the individual and the mass, but the individual is the mass and the mass is the individual. Individuality or the mass ceases when the characteristics of the individual or the mass disappear. The mass is ignorance, want, fear, in the individual. All the unexplored regions of consciousness, the half-awakened states of the individual, form the mass. It is only when the individual and the mass, as conflicting forces, cease to exist that there can be creative intelligence. It is this division of the mass and the individual, which is but an illusion, that is creating confusion and misery. You are not a complete individual nor are you wholly the mass; you are both the individual and the mass. In the minds of most people there is this unfortunate division, as the individual and the mass; there is the idea that by organizing the mass you will bring about creative, individual freedom and expression. If you are thinking of organizing the mass in order to help the creative release of the individual, then such organizing becomes the means of subtle exploitation. There are two forms of exploitation, the obvious and the subtle. The obvious has become habitual, which we know and pass by, but it requires deep perception to recognize the subtle forms of exploitation. One class, which has the wealth, exploits the mass. The few who control industry exploit the many who work. Wealth concentrated in the hands of the few creates social distinctions and divisions; and through these divisions we have economic and sentimental nationalism, the constant threat of war with all its terrors and cruelties, the division of peoples into races and nations with their fierce struggle for self-sufficiency, the hierarchical systems of graded cunning and privilege. All this is obvious, and as it is obvious, you have become accustomed to it. You say nationalism is inevitable; so each nation asserts, and prepares for war and slaughter. As individuals you are unconsciously helping war by emphasizing your national separativeness. Nationalism is a disease, whether in this country, in Europe or America. Separative individual or national search for security only intensifies conflict and human suffering. The subtle form of exploitation is not easily perceived, because it is an intimate process of our individual existence. It is the result of the search for certainty, for comfort in the present and in the hereafter. Now this search, which we call the search for truth, for God, has led to the creating of systems of exploitation which we call beliefs, ideals, dogmas, and to their perpetuation by priests, gurus and guides. Because you as individuals are in confusion and doubt, you hope that another will bring enlightenment to you. You hope to overcome suffering and confusion by following another, by following a system of discipline or some ideal. This attempt to conquer misery and pain by submitting yourself to another, by regulating your conduct according to a standard, is merely a flight from actuality. So, in your search for escape from the actual, you go to another to be enriched and comforted and thereby you engender the process of subtle exploitation. Religion, as it is, thrives on fear and exploitation. How many of you are conscious that you are seeking security, an escape from the constant gnawing of fear, from confusion and sorrow? The desire for security, for psychological certainty, has encouraged a subtle form of exploitation, through discipline, compulsion, authority, tradition. So, you must discern for yourself the process of your own thought-action, born of ignorance and fear, which brings about cruel exploitation, confusion and sorrow. When there is the comprehension of the actual, without the struggle of choice, there is love, the ecstasy of truth. December 6, 1936 MADRAS 2ND PUBLIC TALK 13TH DECEMBER, 1936 Amongst the many conflicting remedies, theories, ideals, what is the true cure for our social complexities and cruelties, for the deep misunderstandings that are creating confusion and chaos in the world? There are many teachers with their methods, many philosophers with their systems. How is one to choose what is true? Each system, each teacher, lays emphasis on some part of the whole existence of man. How is one, then, to comprehend the whole process of life, and how is one to free the mind, so that there can be the perception of what is true? Each leader has his own group of people, in conflict with another group, with another leader. There is disagreement, confusion, chaos. Some groups become ruthless, and others try to become tolerant, liberal, for their leaders say to them: Cultivate tolerance, for all paths lead to reality. So, in trying to develop the spirit of tolerance, brotherliness, they gradually become indifferent, sluggish, even brutal. In a world of confusion, disagreement, when people take their beliefs and ideals seriously, vitally, can there be true co-operation between groups that believe differently, and work for varying ideals? If you believed firmly in an idea, and another through his ardent faith worked in opposition to you, could there be tolerance, friendship between you and the other? Or is the conception of each one going his own way, false? Is the idea of cultivating brotherliness and tolerance in the midst of conflict, impossible and hypocritical? In spite of your strong beliefs, convictions and hopes, can you establish a superficial relationship of friendliness and tolerance with another who is diametrically opposed to your conception of life? If you can, there must be compromise, a lessening of that which is true to you, and so you yield to another who is circumstantially more powerful than you. This but creates more confusion. The cultivation of tolerance is only an intellectual feat and so is without any deep significance, leading to thoughtlessness and poverty of being. If you examine the propaganda that is being made throughout the world by nations, classes, groups, sects, individuals, you will see that in various ways they are all determined to convert you to their particular point of view or belief. Can rival propagandists be friendly and tolerant, deeply, truly? If you are a Hindu and another is a Mohammedan, you a capitalist and another a socialist, can there be deep relationship between you? Is this possible? It is impossible. The cultivation of tolerance is an intellectual and so an artificial process which has no reality. This does not mean that I am advocating persecution or some cruel act for the sake of beliefs. Please follow what I am saying. While there is conversion, incitement, the subtle forcing of another to join a particular group or subscribe to a particular set of beliefs; while there are opposite, contradictory ideas, there cannot be harmony and peace, though we may pretend intellectually to be tolerant and brotherly. For each one is so interested, so enthusiastic about his own ideas and methods that he desires urgently that another shall accept them, and so creates a condition of conflict and confusion. This is obvious. If you are thoughtful and not a propagandist, you are bound to see the superficiality of this jargon of tolerance and brotherliness and face the fierce battle of contradictory ideas, hopes, and faiths. In other words, you must perceive the actual, the disagreement, the confusion that is now about us. If we can put aside this easy jargon of tolerance and brotherhood we may then see the way to comprehend disagreement. There is a way out of the chaos, but it does not lie through artificial brotherhood or intellectual tolerance. Only through right thinking and action can the conflict of opposing groups and ideas be ended. What do I mean by right thinking? Thought must be vital, dynamic, not mechanical or imitative. A system of disciplining the mind according to a particular mode is considered to be positive thinking. You first create or accept an intellectual image, an ideal, and to accord with that you twist your thought. This conformity, imitation, is mistaken for comprehension, but in reality it is only the craving for security born of fear. The prompting of fear only leads to conformity, and discipline born of fear is not right thinking. To awaken intelligence you must perceive what impedes the creative movement of thought. That is, if you can perceive for yourself that ideals, beliefs, traditions, values, are constantly twisting your thought-action, then by becoming aware of these distortions intelligence is awakened. There can be no creative thinking so long as there are conscious or unconscious hindrances, values, prejudices, that pervert thought. Instead of pursuing imitativeness, systems and gurus, you must become conscious of your impediments, your own prejudices and standards, and in discerning their significance there will be that creative intelligence which alone can destroy confusion and bring about deep agreement of comprehension. The most stubborn of all impediments is tradition. You may ask: What will happen to the world if tradition is destroyed? Will there not be chaos? Will there not be immorality? Confusion, conflict, pain, exist now, in spite of your honoured traditions and moral doctrines. What is the process by which the mind is ever accumulating values, memories, habits, which we call tradition? We cannot discern this process so long as mind is conditioned by fear and want which are constantly creating anchorages in consciousness that become tradition. Can the mind ever be free of these anchorages of values, traditions, memories? What you call thinking is merely moving from one anchorage or centre of bias to another, and from this centre judging, choosing, and creating substitutions. Anchored in limitation, you contact other ideas and values, which superficially modify your own conditioned beliefs. You then form another centre of new values, new memories, which again condition future thought and action. So always from these anchorages you judge, calculate and react. As long as this movement from anchorage to anchorage continues, there must be conflict and suffering, there cannot be love. Superficial cultivation of brotherhood and tolerance only encourages this movement and intensifies illusion. Can the mind-heart ever free itself from the centres of conditioned thought-emotion? If the mind-heart does not create for itself these anchorages of self-protection, then there can be clear thought, love, which alone will solve the many problems that now create confusion and misery. If you begin to be conscious of these centres you will discern what a tremendous power they are for disagreement, for confusion. When you are not conscious of them you are exploited by organizations, by leaders, who promise you new substitutions. You learn to talk easily of brotherhood, kindliness, love - words that can have no significance at all as long as you merely move from one bias to another. Either you discern the process of ignorance with its tradition, and so there is immediate action, or you are so accustomed to the drug of substitution that perception becomes impossible, and so you begin to seek a method of escape. Perception is action, they are not divisible. What you call intellectual perception creates an artificial separation between thought and action. You then struggle to bridge this division, an effort that has no significance, for it is the lack of comprehension that has created this illusory division. Either you are aware of the process or you are not. If you are not, let us consider this process deeply, enthusiastically, but do not let us seek a method. This eagerness to comprehend becomes the flame of awareness which burns away the desire for substitution. Question: Can I for ever be rid of sorrow, and by what method? Krishnamurti: Sorrow is the companion of all, the rich and the poor, the believer and the non-believer. In spite of all your beliefs and doctrines, in spite of your temples and Gods, suffering is your constant companion. Let us understand it and not merely think of being rid of it. When you have fully comprehended sorrow, then you will not seek a way to overcome it. Do you want to be rid of joy, ecstasy, bliss? No. Then why do you say you must be rid of sorrow? The one gives pleasure, the other pain, and the mind clings to that which is pleasurable and nourishes it. All interference on the part of the mind to stimulate joy and overcome sorrow must be artificial, ineffective. You are seeking a way out of your misery, and there are those who will help you to forget sorrow by offering you the dope of belief, doctrine, and future happiness. If mind does not interfere either with joy or pain, then that very joy, that very sorrow, awakens the creative flame of awareness. Sorrow is but an indication of conditioned thought, of mind limited by beliefs, fears, illusions, but you do not heed the incessant warning. To forget sorrow, to overcome it, to modify it, you seek refuge in beliefs, in the anchorage of self-protection and security. It is very difficult not to interfere with the process of sorrow, which does not mean that you must be resigned to it or that you must accept it as inevitable, as karma, as punishment. As you do not wish to change a lovely form, the glow after sunset, the vision of a tree in a field, so also do not obstruct the movement of sorrow. Let it ripen, for in its own process of fulfilment there is comprehension. When you are aware of the wound of sorrow, without acceptance, resignation or denial, without artificially inviting it, then suffering awakens the flame of creative intelligence. The very search for an escape from sorrow creates the exploiter, and the mind yields to exploitation. So long as the artificial process of interference with sorrow continues, sorrow must be your constant companion. But if there is vital awareness, without choice, without detachment, then there is intelligence which alone can dispel all confusion. Question: With what special significance do you use the word "intelligence"? Is it graded and therefore capable of constant evolution and variation? Krishnamurti: I am using the word intelligence to convey the vital completeness of thought-action. Intelligence is not the outcome of intellectual effort, nor of emotional fervour. It is not the product of theories, beliefs and information. It is the completeness of action arising from the undivided comprehension of thought-emotion. In rare moments of deep love we know completeness. Creative intelligence cannot be invited or measured, but the mind seeks definition, description, and is ever caught in the illusion of words. Awareness without choice reveals, in the very moment of action, the concealed distortions of thought and emotion and their hidden significance. "Is it graded, and therefore capable of constant evolution and variation?" What is discerned completely cannot be variable, cannot evolve, grow. The comprehension of the process of the "I", with its many centres of self-protection, the discernment of the significance of anchorages, cannot be changeable, cannot be modified through growth. Ignorance can vary, develop, change, grow. The various self-protective centres of the mind are capable of growth, change and modification. The process of substitution is not intelligence, it is but a movement within the circle of ignorance. The flame of intelligence, love, can be awakened only when the mind is vitally aware of its own conditioned thought, with its fears, values, wants. December 13, 1936 MADRAS 3RD PUBLIC TALK 20TH DECEMBER 1936 I have tried to explain what is clear, creative thinking, and how tradition, anchorages, fear and security constantly impede the free movement of thought. If you would awaken intelligence, your mind must not escape into ideals and beliefs nor can it be caught in the accumulative process of self-protective memories. You must be conscious of the escape from the actual, and of living in the present with the values of the past or of the future. If you observe yourself you will see that the mind is building up for itself security, certainty, in order to be free from fear, from apprehension, danger. The mind is ever seeking anchorages from which its choice and action may spring. Mind is ever seeking and developing various forms of security, with its values and illusions: the security of wealth with its personal advantages and power; the security of belief and ideal; and the security which the mind seeks in love. A mind that is secure develops its own peculiar stupidities, puerilities, which cause much confusion and suffering. When the mind is bewildered and fearful, it seeks impregnable certainties which become ideals, beliefs. Why does the mind create and cling to these anchorages of beliefs and traditions? Is it not because, perplexed by conflict and constant change, it seeks a finality, a deep assurance, a changeless state? And yet, in spite of these anchorages, suffering and sorrow continue. So mind begins to seek new substitutes, other ideals and beliefs, hoping again for security and happiness. The mind goes from one hope of certainty to another, from one illusion to another. This wandering is called growth. When the conditioned mind becomes conscious of sorrow and uncertainty, it soon begins to stagnate by escaping into beliefs, theories, hopes. This process of substitution, of escape, only leads to frustration. The search for security is but the expression of fear which distorts the mind-heart. When you see the significance of your search for security through belief and ideal, you become conscious of its falseness. Then the mind seeks through reaction against belief and ideal an antithesis in which it hopes again to find certainty and happiness, which is but another form of escape from actuality. Mind has to become aware of its habit of developing antitheses. Why is the mind guarding itself strongly against the movement of life? Can a mind that is not vulnerable, that is looking to its own advantages through its self-created values, ever know the ecstasy of life and the completeness of love? The mind is making itself impregnable so as not to suffer, and yet this very protection is the cause of sorrow. Question: I can see that intelligence must be independent of intellect and also of any form of discipline. Is there a way by which we can quicken the process of awakening intelligence and making it permanent? Krishnamurti: There cannot be love, creative intelligence, so long as there is fear in any form. If you are fully aware of fear with its many activities and illusions, that very awareness becomes the flame of intelligence. When the mind discerns for itself the hindrances that are preventing clear thought, then no artificial impetus is necessary for the awakening of intelligence. A mind that seeks a method is not aware of itself, of its ignorance, fears. It merely hopes that perhaps a method, a system of discipline, will dissipate its fears and sorrows. Discipline can only create habit, and so deaden the mind. To be aware without choice, to be conscious of the many activities of the mind, its richness, its subtleties, its deceptions, its illusions, is to be intelligent. This awareness itself dispels ignorance, fear. If you make an effort to be aware, then that effort creates a habit, impelled by the hope of escape from sorrow. Where there is deep and choiceless awareness, there is self-revelation which alone can prevent the mind from creating illusions for itself and thereby putting itself to sleep. If there is constant alertness of mind without the duality of the observer and the observed, if mind can know itself as it is, without denial, assertion, acceptance or resignation, then out of that very actuality there comes love, creative intelligence. Question: Why are there many paths to truth? Is this idea an illusion, cleverly conceived to explain and justify differences? Krishnamurti: To clear thinking can there be many paths? Can any system lead to creative intelligence? There is only creative intelligence, not systems to awaken it. There is only truth, not paths leading to truth. It is only ignorance which divides itself into many paths and systems. Each religion maintains that it alone has the truth and that through it alone God can be realized; various organizations assert or imply that through their special methods truth can be known; each sect maintains that it has the special message, that it is the special vehicle of truth. Individual prophets and spiritual messengers offer their panaceas as direct revelations of God. Why do they claim such authority, such efficacy for their assertions? Is it not obvious? Vested interest, in the present or in the hereafter. They have to maintain their delusions of prestige and power, or else what will happen to all the creations of their terrestrial glory? Others, because they have impoverished themselves by denial and sacrifice, imagine themselves grown in grandeur and so assume the spiritual right of guiding the worldly. It is one of the facile explanations of spiritual interests to say that there are many paths to truth, thus justifying their own organized activities and attempting at the same time to be tolerant to those who maintain similar systems. Also, we are so entrenched in prejudice, in tradition with its special beliefs and dogmas, that we repeat dogmatically, readily, that there are many paths to truth. To bring about tolerance between the many divisions of antagonistic and conditioned thought, the leaders of organized interests try to cover up, in weighty phrases, the inherent brutality of division. The very assertion of paths to truth is the denial of truth. How can anyone point out a way to truth - which has no abode, which is not to be measured, or sought after? That which is fixed is dead, and to that there may be paths. Ignorance creates the illusion of many ways and methods. Through your own conditioned thought, through your own desire for certainty, finality, through your own fears which are constantly creating safety, you fabricate mechanical, artificial conceptions of truth, of perfection. And having invented these you seek ways and means to maintain them. Each organization, group, sect, knowing that divisions deny friendship, tries to bring about artificial unity and brotherhood. Each says: You follow your religion and I will follow mine; you have your truth and I will have mine; but let us cultivate tolerance. Such tolerance will only lead to illusion and confusion. A mind that is conditioned by ignorance, fear, cannot comprehend truth, for out of its own limitation it creates for itself further limitations. Truth is not to be invited. Mind cannot create it. If you comprehend this fully, then you will discern the utter futility of systems, practices, and disciplines. Now you are so much a part of the intellectual and mechanical process of living that you cannot perceive its artificiality; or you refuse to see it, for perception would mean action. Hence the poverty of your own being. When you begin to be aware of the process of thought and become conscious that it is creating for itself its own emptiness and frustration, then that very awareness will dispel fear. Then there is love, completeness of life. Question: Do you not see, sir, that your ideas can lead us but to one result - the blankness of negation and ineffectiveness in our struggle with the problems of life? Krishnamurti: What are the problems of life? To earn a living, to love, to have no fear, no sorrow, to live happily, sanely, completely. These are problems of our life. Am I saying anything that can lead you to negation, to emptiness, that can prevent you from comprehending your own misery and struggle? Do you not ask me this question because your mind is accustomed to seek what is called positive instruction? That is, you want to be told what to do, advised to practise certain disciplines, so that you may lead a life of happiness and realize God. You are accustomed to conform, in the hope of greater and fuller life. I say, on the contrary, conformity is born of fear, and this imitation is not the positive way of life. To point out the process in which you are caught, to help you to become aware of the prison of limitation which the mind has created for itself, is not negation. On the contrary, if you are aware of the process that has brought you to this present condition of sorrow and confusion and if you understand the full significance of it, then that very comprehension dispels ignorance, fear, want. Then only can there be a life of fullness and true relationship between the individual and society. How can this lead you to a life of negation and ineffectiveness? What have you now? A few beliefs and ideals, some possessions, a leader or two to follow, an occasional whisper of love, constant struggle and pain. Is this richness of life, fulfilment and ecstasy? How can the bliss of reality exist when the mind-heart is caught up in fear? How can there be enlightenment when the mind-heart is creating its own limitation and confusion? I say, consider what you have, become aware of these limitations, and that very awareness will awaken creative intelligence. Question: Is freedom from conflict possible for anyone at any time, regardless of evolution? Have you come across another instance, besides yourself, in which the possibility had become an actuality? Krishnamurti: Do not let us inquire whether someone else has freed himself from ignorance and conflict. Can you, burdened with illusion and fear, free yourself from sorrow at any time? Can you, with many beliefs and values, free yourself from ignorance and want? The idea of eventual perfection is but an illusion. A slothful mind clings to the satisfying idea of gradual growth and has accumulated for itself many comforting theories. Can the movement from experience to experience bring about creative intelligence? You have had many experiences. What is the result? From such experiences you have only accumulated self-protective memories, which guard the mind from the movement of life. Can the mind become aware, at any moment, of its own conditioning and begin to free itself from its own limitation? Surely, this is possible. You may intellectually admit this, but it will have no significance whatsoever so long as it does not result in action. But action entails friction, trouble. Your neighbour, your family, your leader, your values, all these create opposition. So the mind begins to evade the actual and develop clever, cunning theories for its own protection. The conditioned mind, fearing the result of its effort, subtly escapes into the illusion of postponement, of growth. December 20, 1936 MADRAS 4TH PUBLIC TALK 28TH DECEMBER, 1936 In my talks I use words without the special significance which has been given to them by philosophers or psychologists. What comprehension have these talks brought to you? Are you still asserting that there is a divinity, a love that is beyond human life? Are you still groping for partial remedies, superficial cures? What is the state of your mind and heart? To bring about intelligent order there must be right thinking, right action. When the mind is capable of comprehending its own process of struggle limitation, when thought is capable of revealing itself without the conflict of division, then there is the completeness of action. If the mind prepares itself for action, then such preparation must be based on the past, on self-protective memories, and must therefore prevent the fullness of action. Mere analysis of past action cannot yield its full significance. Mind that is consciously or unconsciously conforming to an ideal, which is but the projection of personal security and satisfaction, must limit action and so become conditioned. It is merely developing self-protective memories and habits, to resist life. So there is constant frustration. From the accumulation of self-protective memories there arises identity, the conception of the "I" and its continuance, its evolution towards perfection, towards reality. This "I" seeks to perpetuate itself through its own volitional activities of ignorance, fear, want. As long as the mind is not aware of these limitations, the effort to evolve, to succeed, only creates further suffering and increases the unconscious. Effort thus becomes a practice, a discipline, a mechanical adjustment and conformity. Most of us think that time and evolutionary progress are necessary for our fulfilment. We think that experiences are essential for our growth and unfoldment. Many accept this idea readily, as it comforts them to think that they have many lives through which they can perfect themselves; they hold that time is essential for their fulfilment. Is this so? Does experience truly liberate or merely limit thought? Can experience free the mind with its self-protective memories, from ignorance, fear, want? Self-protective memories and desires use experiences for their perpetuation. So we are time-bound. What do we mean by experience? Is it not the accumulation of values, based on self-protective memories, which give us a mode of behaviour prompted by personal advantage? It is the process of like and dislike, of choice. The accumulation of self-protective memories is the process of experience, and relationship is the contact between two individualized and self-protective memories, whose morality is the agreement to guard what they possess. You are your own way and your own life. Out of your own right effort will be awakened creative intelligence. Till there is this creative intelligence, born of choiceless awareness, there must be chaos, there must be contention, hatred, conflict, sorrow. Question: You have said that the comprehension of truth is possible only through experimentation. Now experimentation means action, which if it is to have any value must be born of mature thought. But if, to start with, my thinking is itself conditioned by memories and reactions, how can I act or experiment rightly? Krishnamurti: To experiment rightly, mind must first be aware that its thought is conditioned. One may think one is experimenting; but, if one is not aware of the limitation, then one is still acting within the bondage of ignorance, fear. Conditioned thought cannot know itself as conditioned; the desire to escape from this limitation, through analysis, through the artificial process of compulsion, denial or assertion, will not bring you comprehension, freedom. No system or compulsion of will can reveal to the mind its own limitation, its own bondage. When there is suffering, mind seeks an escape and therefore only creates for itself further illusions. But if the mind is fully aware of suffering and does not seek an escape, then that very awareness destroys illusion; that awareness is comprehension. So instead of inquiring how to free thought from fear, from want, be conscious of sorrow. Sorrow is the indication of conditioned mind, and mere escape from it only increases limitation. In the moment of suffering, begin to be aware; then mind itself will perceive the illusory nature of escape, of self-protective memories and personal advantages. Question: Should one be dutiful? Krishnamurti: Who asks this question? Not a man who is seeking comprehension, truth, but the man whose mind is burdened with fear, tradition, ideals and racial loyalties. Such a mind coming into contact with the movement of life only creates friction and suffering for itself. Question: Are elders guilty of exploitation when they expect respect and obedience from the young? Krishnamurti: The showing of respect to the aged is generally a habit. Fear can assume the form of veneration. Love cannot become a habit, a practice. There is no respect in the aged for the young nor in the young for the aged, but only the show of authority and the habit of fear. The organization of phrases, the cultivation of respect, is not culture, but a trap to hold the thoughtless. Our minds have become so slavish to habitual values that we have lost all affection and deep respect for human life. Where there is exploitation there can be no respect for human dignity. If you demand respect just because you are aged and have authority, it is exploitation. Question: If a man is in ignorance or at a loss to know what to do, is there no need of a guru to guide him? Krishnamurti: Can anyone help you to cross this aching void of daily life? Can any person, however great, help you out of this confusion? No one can. This confusion is self-created; this turmoil is the result of one will in conflict with another will. Will is ignorance. I know the pursuit of gurus, teachers, guides, masters, is the indoor sport of many, the sport of the thoughtless all over the world. People say: How can we prevent this chaotic misery and cruelty, unless those who are free, the enlightened, come to our aid and save us from our sorrow? Or they create a mental image of a favoured saint and hang all their troubles round his neck. Or they believe that some super-physical guide watches over them and tells them what to do, how to act. The search for a guru, a master, indicates an avoidance of life. Conformity is death. It is but the formation of habit, the strengthening of the unconscious. How often we see some ugly, cruel scene and recoil from it. We see poverty, cruelty, degradation of every kind; at first we are appalled by it, but we soon become unconscious of it. We become used to our environment, we shrug our shoulders and say: What can we do? it is life. Thus we destroy our sensitive reactions to ugliness, to exploitation, cruelty and suffering, also our appreciation and deep enjoyment of beauty. Thus there comes a slow withering of perception. Habit gradually overcomes thinking. Observe the activity of your own thought and you will see how it is forming itself into one habit after another. The conscious is thus becoming the unconscious and habit hardens the mind through will and discipline. Forcing the mind to discipline itself, through fear which is often mistaken for love, brings about frustration. The problem of gurus exists when you seek comfort, when you desire satisfaction. There is no comfort, but understanding; there is no satisfaction, but fulfilment. Question: You seem to give a new significance to the idea of will, that divine quality in man. I understand you to regard it as a hindrance. Is this so? Krishnamurti: What do you mean by will? Is it not an overcoming, a conquering, a determining effort? What have you to conquer? Your habits, resistances developed by fear, the conflict of your desires, the struggle of the opposites, the frustration of your environment. So you develop will. The will to be, in all its significance, is but a process of resistance, a process of overcoming, prompted by self-protective craving. Will is really an illusory necessity of fear, not a divine quality. It is but the perpetuation of self-protective memories. Out of fear you make yourself invulnerable to love, to truth; and the development of the process of self-protection is called will. Will has its roots in egotism. The will to exist, the will to become perfect, the will to succeed, the will to acquire, the will to find God, is the urge of egotism. When the action of fear, ambition, security, personal virtue and character, yields to intelligence, then you will know how to live completely, integrally, without the battle of will. Will is only the insistent prompting of self-protective memories, the result of individualized ignorance and fear. The cessation of will is not death, it is only the cessation of illusion, born of ignorance. Action, devoid of fear and personal advantage, will alone bring about harmonious, creative relationship with another, with society. December 28, 1936 OMMEN 1ST PUBLIC TALK 1ST AUGUST, 1937 Amidst the changing circumstances of life, is there anything permanent? Is there any relation between ourselves and the constant change about us? If we accepted that everything is change, including ourselves, then there would never be the idea of permanency. If we thought of ourselves as in a state of continual movement, then there would be no conflict between the changing circumstances of life and the thing we now think of as being permanent. There is a deep, abiding hope or a certainty in us that there is something permanent in the midst of continual change, and this gives rise to conflict. We see that change exists about us. We see everything decaying, withering. We see cataclysms, wars, famines, death, insecurity, disillusionment. Everything about us is in constant change, becoming and decaying. All things are worn out by use. There is nothing permanent about us. In our institutions, our morals, our theories of government, of economics, of social relationship - in all things there is a flux, there is a change. And yet in the midst of this impermanency we feel that there is permanency; being dissatisfied with this impermanency, we have created a state of permanency, thereby giving rise to conflict between that which is supposed to be permanent and that which is changing, the transient. But if we realized that everything, including ourselves, the "I", is transient and the environmental things of life are also impermanent, surely then there would not be this aching conflict. What is it that demands permanency, security, that longs for continuity? It is on this demand that our social, moral relationship is based. If you really believed or deeply felt for yourself the incessant change of life, then there would never be a craving for security, for permanency. But because there is a deep craving for permanency, we create an enclosing wall against the movement of life. So conflict exists between the changing values of life, and the desire which is seeking permanency. If we deeply felt and understood the impermanency of ourselves and of the things of this world, then there would be a cessation of bitter conflict, aches and fears. Then there would be no attachment from which arises the social and individual struggle. What then is this thing that has assumed permanency and is ever seeking further continuity? We cannot intelligently examine this until we analyze and understand the critical capacity itself. Our critical capacity springs from prejudices, beliefs, theories, hopes, and so on, or from what we call experience. Experience is based on tradition, on accumulated memories. Our experience is ever tinged by the past. If you believe in God, perhaps you may have what you call an experience of Godhood. Surely this is not a true experience. It has been impressed upon our minds through centuries that there is God, and according to that conditioning we have an experience. This is not a true, firsthand experience. A conditioned mind acting in a conditioned way cannot experience completely. Such a mind is incapable of fully experiencing the reality or the non-reality of God. Likewise a mind that is already prejudiced by a conscious or an unconscious desire for the permanent cannot fully comprehend reality. To such a prejudiced mind all inquiry is merely a further strengthening of that prejudice. The search and the longing for immortality is the urge of accumulated memories of individual consciousness, the "I", with its fears and hopes, loves and hates. This "I" breaks itself up into many conflicting parts: the higher and the lower, the permanent and the transient, and so on. This "I", in its desire to perpetuate itself, seeks and uses ways and means to entrench itself. Perhaps some of you may say to yourselves, "Surely with the disappearance of these cravings, there must be reality". The very desire to know if there is something beyond the conflicting consciousness of existence is an indication that the mind is seeking an assurance, a certainty, a reward for its efforts. We see how resistance against each other is created, and that resistance through accumulative memories, through experience, is more and more strengthened, becoming more and more conscious of itself. Thus there is your personal resistance and that of your neighbour, society. Adjustment between two or more resistances is called relationship, upon which morality is built. Where there is love, there is not the consciousness of relationship. It is only in a state of resistance that there can be this consciousness of relationship, which is merely an adjustment between opposing conflicts. Conflict is not only between various resistances, but also within itself, within the permanent and the impermanent quality of resistance itself. Is there anything permanent within this resistance? We see that resistance can perpetuate itself through acquisitiveness, through ignorance, through conscious or unconscious craving for experience. But surely this continuance is not the eternal; it is merely the perpetuation of conflict. What we call the permanent in resistance is only part of resistance itself, and so part of conflict. Thus in itself it is not the eternal, the permanent. Where there is incompleteness, unfulfilment, there is the craving for continuance which creates resistance, and this resistance gives to itself the quality of permanency. The thing that the mind clings to as the permanent is in its very essence the transient. It is the outcome of ignorance, fear and craving. If we understand this, then we see the problem is not that of one resistance in conflict with another, but how this resistance comes into being and how it is to be dissolved. When we face this problem deeply there is a new awakening, a state which may be called love. August 1, 1937 OMMEN 2ND PUBLIC TALK 3RD AUGUST, 1937 Conflict invariably must arise when there is a static centre within one, and about one there are changing values. This static centre must be in battle with the living quality of life. Change implies that there is nothing permanent to which the mind can attach itself, but it constantly desires to cling to some form of security. The form of attachment is undergoing a constant change, and this change is considered progress, but attachment still continues. Now this change implies that there can be no personal centre which is accumulating, storing up memories, as safeguards and virtues; no centre which is constantly gathering to itself experiences, lessons for the future. Though intellectually we may grasp this, emotionally each one clings to a personal, static centre, identifying himself with it. In reality there is no centre as the "I" with its permanent qualities. We must understand this integrally, not merely intellectually, if we are to alter fundamentally our relationship with our neighbour, which is based on ignorance, fear, wants. Now do we, each one of us, think that this centre, from which most of our action takes place, do we think that this centre is impermanent? What does thinking mean to you? Are you merely stimulated by my word-picture, by an explanation which you will examine intellectually at your leisure and make into a pattern, into a principle to be followed and to be lived? Does such a method bring about an integral living? Mere explanation of suffering does not cause it to disappear, nor following a principle or a pattern, but what does destroy it is integral thought and emotion. If you are not suffering, then the word-picture of another about suffering, his explanation concerning it, may for the moment be stimu- lating and might make you think that you should suffer. But such suffering has no significance. There are two ways of thinking. One is through mere intellectual stimulation, without any emotional content; but when the emotions are deeply stirred, there is an integral thought process which is not superficial, intellectual. This integral thought-emotion alone can bring about lasting comprehension and action. If what I am saying acts merely as a stimulation, then there arises the question of how to apply it to your daily life with its pains and conflicts. The how, the method, becomes all important only when explanations and stimulations are urging you to a particular action. The how, the method, ceases to be important only when you are aware, integrally. When the mind reveals to itself its own efforts of fears and wants, then there arises integral awareness of its own impermanency which alone can set the mind free from its binding labours. Unless this is taking place, all stimulation becomes further bondage. All artificially cultivated qualities divide: all intellectual cultivation of morality, ethics, is cruel, born of fear, only creating further resistance of man against man. The quality of resistance is ignorance. To be acquainted with many intellectual theories is not freedom from ignorance. A man who is not integrally aware of the process of his own mind is ignorant. To free thought from acquisitiveness, through discipline, through will, is not a release from ignorance, for it is still held in the conflict of opposites. When thought integrally perceives that the effort to rid itself of acquisitiveness is also part of acquisitiveness, then there is a beginning of enlightenment. Whatever effort the mind makes to rid itself of certain qualities, it is still caught up in ignorance; but when the mind discerns that all effort it makes to free itself is still within the process of ignorance, then there is a possibility of breaking through the vicious circle of ignorance. The will of satisfaction breaks up the mind into many parts, each in conflict with the other, and this will cannot be destroyed by a superior will, which is but another form of the will of satisfaction. This circle of ignorance breaks, as it were, from within only when the mind ceases to be acquisitive. The will of satisfaction destroys love. Questioner: How are we to distinguish between revelation, which is true thought, and experience? To me, experience, because of our untruthful methods of living, becomes limited and so is not pure revelation. They should be one. Questioner: You mean experience is a memory, a memory of something done? Krishnamurti: Experience may further condition thought or it may release it from limitations. We experience according to our conditioning, but that conditioning may be broken through, which may give to one's whole being an integral freedom. Morality, which should be spontaneous, has been made to follow a pattern, a principle which becomes right or wrong according to the beliefs that one holds. To alter this pattern some resort to violence, hoping to create a "true" pattern, and others turn to law to reshape it. Doth hope to create "right" morality through force and conformity. But such enforcement is no longer morality. Violence in some form is considered as a necessary means to a pacific end. We do not see that the end is controlled and shaped by the means we employ. Truth is an experience disassociated with the past. The attachment to the past with its memories, traditions, is the continuance of a static centre which prevents the experience of truth. When the mind is not burdened with belief, with want, with attachment, when it is creatively empty, then there is a possibility of experiencing reality. August 3, 1937 OMMEN 3RD PUBLIC TALK 4TH AUGUST, 1937 All strife is one of relationship, an adjustment between two resistances, two individuals Resistance is a conditioning, limiting or conditioning that energy which may be called life, thought, emotion. This conditioning, this resistance, has had no beginning. It has always been, and we can see that it can be continued. There are many and complex causes for this conditioning. This conditioning is ignorance, which can be brought to an end. Ignorance is the unawareness of the process of conditioning, which consists of the many wants, fears, acquisitive memories, and so on. Belief is part of ignorance. Whatever action springs from belief only further strengthens ignorance. The craving for understanding, for happiness, the attempt to get rid of this particular quality and acquire that particular virtue, all such effort is born of ignorance, which is the result of this constant want. So in relationship strife and conflict continue. As long as there is want, all experience further conditions thought and emotion, thus continuing conflict. Where there is want, experience cannot be complete, thus strengthening resistance. A belief, the result of want, is a conditioning force; experience based on any belief is limiting, however wide and large it may be. Whatever effort the mind makes to break down its own vicious circle of ignorance must further aid the continuance of ignorance. If one does not understand the whole process of ignorance, and merely makes an effort to get rid of it, thought is still acting within the circle of ignorance. So what is one to do, discerning that whatever action, whatever effort one makes only strengthens ignorance? The very desire to break through the circle of ignorance is still part of ignorance. Then what is one to do? Now, is this an all-important, vital question to you? If it is, then you will see that there is no direct, positive answer. For positive answers can only bring about further effort, which but strengthens the process of ignorance. So there is only a negative approach, which is to be integrally aware of the process of fear or ignorance. This awareness is not an effort to overcome, to destroy or to find a substitute, but is a stillness of neither acceptance nor denial, an integral quietness of no choice. This awareness breaks the circle of ignorance from within, as it were, without strengthening it. Questioner: How can one know for certain whether the mind is unconditioned, because there is a possibility of illusion there? Krishnamurti: Do not let us be concerned about the certainty of an unconditioned mind, but rather be aware of the limitations of thought-emotion. Questioner: There is a real difference between being unaware of our conditioning and imagining that we are unconditioned. Krishnamurti: Surely that is obvious. To inquire into the unconditioned state when one's mind is limited is so utterly futile. We have to be concerned with those causes which hold thought-emotion in bondage. Questioner: We know there is reality and unreality, and from the unreal we must move to the real. Krishnamurti: Surely that is another form of conditioning. How do you know that there is the real? Questioner: Because it is there. Krishnamurti: You have stopped thinking, if I may say so, when you assert that it is there. Questioner: I think we realize continually that we are conditioned, because we are always suffering and in conflict. Krishnamurti: So conflict, suffering, the strain of relationship, indicates a conditioning. There may be many causes for conditioning, but are you aware of at least one of them? Questioner: Fear and desire are the causes of limiting. Krishnamurti: When you make that statement are you conscious that, in your life, fear and desire cause strife, misery? When you say that fear is conditioning your life, are you aware of that fear? Or is it because you have read of it, or heard me talk about it, that you repeat, "Fear is conditioning"? Fear cannot exist by itself, but only in relation to something. Now when you say you are conscious of fear, is it caused by something outside of yourself, or is it within you? One is afraid of an accident, or of the neighbour, or of some immediate relation, or of some psychological reaction, and so on. In some cases it is the outward things of life which are making us afraid, and if we can free ourselves from them, we think that we shall be without fear. Can you free yourself from your neighbour? You may be able to escape from a particular neighbour, but wherever you are, you are always in relation with someone. You may be able to create an illusion into which you can withdraw, or build a wall between your neighbour and yourself, and thereby protect yourself. You may separate yourself through social division, through virtues, beliefs, acquisitions, and so free yourself from your neighbour. But this is not freedom. Then there is the fear of contagious diseases, accidents, and so forth, against which one takes natural precautions, without unduly exaggerating them. The will to survive, the will to be satisfied, the will to continue -this is the very root cause of fear. Do you know this to be so? If you do, then what do you mean by "knowing"? Do you know this merely intellectually, as a word-picture, or are you aware of it integrally, emotionally? You know of fear as a reaction when your resistance is weakened; when the walls of your self-protection have been broken into, then you are conscious of fear and your immediate reaction is to patch up again those walls, to strengthen them so as to be secure. Questioner: Will you tell us what fear is? Krishnamurti: Will I tell you what fear is! Don't you know what it is? If in your house there is nothing of value to which you are attached, then you are not afraid of your neighbour, your windows and doors are open. But fear is in your heart when you are attached; then you bar your windows, then you lock your doors. You isolate yourself. The mind has gathered certain values, treasures, and it intends to guard them. If the worth of these possessions is questioned, there is an awakening of fear. Through fear we guard them more closely, or sell out the old and acquire the new which we protect more cunningly. This isolation we call by various names. I am asking you if you have anything precious in your mind, in your heart, that you are guarding. If you have, then you are bound to create walls against fear, and this resistance is called by many names - love, will, virtue, character. Have you anything precious? Have you anything that may be taken away from you, your position, your ambitions, desires, hopes? What is it that you have, actually? You may have worldly possessions which you try to safeguard. To protect them you have imperialism, nationalism, class distinctions. Each individual, each nation is doing that, breeding hate and war. Can the fear of loss be utterly removed? Every sign indicates this fear cannot be taken away by greater protection, greater nationalism, greater imperialism. Where there is attachment, there is fear. Questioner: Is it by letting the objects go, or by setting up a different relationship between ourselves and them, that fear is dissipated? Krishnamurti: Surely we have not yet come to the question of how to rid ourselves of fear. We are trying to find out what are the precious things that each one of us holds so cunningly, and then only can we discover the means of getting rid of fear. Questioner: It is very difficult to know. I do not know what I am holding on to. Krishnamurti: Yes, that is one of the difficulties, but unless you know that, fear must continue, though you may desire to get rid of it. Are you conscious with your whole being that you are protecting yourself in some form or other through belief, acquisitions, virtue, ambition? When you begin to consider deeply, you will perceive how belief or any other form of exclusion is segregating you either as a group, or as an individual, and that belief acts as a resistance against the movement of life. Some of you may say that the mind is not guarding a belief, but that it is part of the mind itself, that without some form of belief mind, thought, cannot exist. Or you may say that belief is not really a belief, but intuition, to be guarded, to be encouraged. Questioner: With me it seems that belief is there, and I do not know what to do about it. I do not know whether I am guarding it or not. Krishnamurti: That is just it. It is part of you, you say. Why is it there? Why is it part of you? You have been conditioned through tradition, education; you have acquired belief consciously or unconsciously as a protection against various forms of fear, or through propaganda you have accepted a belief as a cure-all. You may not have a belief in a particular theory, but you may have in a person. There are various forms of belief. The desire for comfort, for security, forces one to some kind of belief, which one guards, for without it one feels utterly lost. So there is the constant attempt to justify one's belief or to find a substitute in the place of the old. Where there is attachment there is fear, but the freedom from fear is not a reward of non-attachment. Suffering makes one decide to be utterly detached, but this detachment is really a form of protection against suffering. Now as the majority of us have something - love, possessions, ideals, beliefs, conceptions - to protect, which go to make up that resistance which is the "I", the "me", it is futile to ask how to get rid of the "I", the "me", with its many layers of wants, fears, without fully comprehending the process of resistance. The very desire to free oneself from them is another and safer form of self-protection. If you are aware of this process of protection, of building up walls to guard that which you are and have, if you are conscious of this, then you will never ask what is the way, the method, to free yourself from fear, from craving. Then you will find in the stillness of awareness the spontaneous breaking up of the various causes that condition thought-emotion. You are not going to be aware by merely listening to one or two talks. It is as a fire which must be built, and you must build it. You must begin, however little, to be conscious, to be aware, and this you can be when you talk, when you laugh, when you come into contact with people, or when you are still. This awareness becomes a flame, and this flame consumes all fear which causes isolation. The mind must reveal itself spontaneously to itself. And this is not given only to a few, nor is it an impossibility. August 4, 1937 OMMEN 4TH PUBLIC TALK 5TH AUGUST, 1937 Ignorance is the unawareness of the process of one's own thought and emotion. I have tried to explain what I mean by awareness. Will experience dissolve this ignorance? What do we mean by experience? Action and reaction according to conditioned thought and emotion. The mind-heart is conditioned through conclusions, habits of thought, preconceptions, beliefs, fears, wants. This mass of ignorance cannot be dissolved merely by experience. Experience can give to ignorance new meaning, new values, new illusions; but it is still ignorance. Mere experience cannot dissolve ignorance; it can only reform it. Can the mere control and change of environment dissolve ignorance? What do we mean by environment? Economic habits and values, social divisions, the morality of conformity, and so on. Will the creation of a new environment, brought about through compulsion, violence, through propaganda and threat, dissolve this ignorance? Or merely reshape it, again in a different way? Through external domination, can this ignorance be dissolved? I say it cannot. This does not mean that the present barbarity of wars, of exploitation, cruelties, class dominations, should not be changed. But mere change of society will not alter the fundamental nature of ignorance. We have looked to two different processes of dissolving ignorance: the one to control the environment, and the other to destroy ignorance through experience. Before you accept or deny the impossibility of doing away with ignorance through these methods, you must know the reality of each process. Do you know it? If not, you must experiment and find out. No artificial stimulation can yield reality. Ignorance cannot be dissolved either through experience or through the mere control of environment, but it spontaneously, voluntarily withers away if there is that awareness in which there is no desire, no choice. Questioner: I am conscious that I love, and that death will take away the one I love, and the suffering is a difficult thing for me to comprehend. I know it is a limitation and I know that I want something else, but I do not know what. Krishnamurti: Death brings great sorrow to most of us, and we want to find a way out of that suffering. We either turn to belief in immortality, taking comfort in this, or try to forget sorrow by various means, or cultivate a superior form of indifference, through rationalization. All things decay, everything is worn away by usage, all comes to an end. Perceiving this, some rationalize away their sorrow. By an intellectual process they deaden their suffering. Others seek to overcome this suffering through postponement, through a belief in the hereafter, through a concept of immortality. This also deadens suffering, for belief gives shelter, comfort. One may not be afraid of the hereafter or the death of oneself, but most of us do not want to bear the agony of the loss of someone we love. So we set about to discover ways and means of frustrating sorrow. The intellectual explanations of how to do away with suffering make one indifferent to it. In the disturbance caused by becoming aware of one's own impoverishment through the death of someone whom one loves, there comes the shock of suffering. Again the mind objects to sorrow, so it seeks ways and means to escape from it: it is satisfied with the many explanations of the hereafter, of continuity, of reincarnation, and so forth. One man rationalizes away suffering, so as to live as undisturbed as possible, and another in his belief, in his postponement, takes shelter and comfort so as not to suffer in the present. These two are fundamentally the same; neither wants to suffer, it is only their explanations that differ. The former scoffs at all belief, and the latter is deeply immersed either in bolstering up his belief in reincarnation, in immortality, and so on, or in finding out "facts", "reality" about them. Questioner: I do not see why the refuge itself is false. I think taking refuge is silly. Reincarnation may be a fact. Krishnamurti: If one is suffering and there is the supposed fact of reincarnation, what fundamental value has this fact if it ceases to be a refuge, a comfort? If one is starving, what good is it to know that there is over-production in the world? One wants to be fed, not facts, but much more nourishing substance. We are not disputing as to whether reincarnation is a fact or not. To me this is utterly irrelevant. When you are diseased, hungry, facts do not relieve suffering, do not satisfy hunger. One can take hope in a future ideal state, but hunger will still continue. The fear of death and the sorrow it brings will continue even in spite of the supposed fact of reincarnation; unless, of course, one lives in complete illusion. Why do you take shelter in a supposed fact, in a belief? I am not asking you how you know that it is a fact. You think that it is, and for the moment let us leave it at that. What prompts you to take shelter? As a man takes refuge in the rationalized conclusion that all things must decay, and thereby softens his suffering, so by taking refuge in a belief, in a supposed fact, you also deaden the action of sorrow. Because of the sharpness of misery, you desire comfort, an alleviation, and so you seek a refuge, hoping that it is enduring and real. Is it not for this fundamental reason that we seek refuge, shelter? Questioner: Because we are not able to face life, we seek a substitute. Krishnamurti: Merely asserting that you are seeking substitutions, does not solve the problem of suffering. They prevent us from thinking and feeling deeply. Those of you who have suffered and are suffering, what has been your experience? Questioner: Nothing. Krishnamurti: Some of you do nothing, bearing it indifferently. Some try to escape from it through drink, amusement, forgetting themselves in action, or taking shelter in a belief. What is the actual reaction in the case of death? You have lost the person whom you love and you would like to have him back; you do not want to face loneliness. Realizing the impossibility of having him back, you turn, in your emptiness and sorrow, to fill your mind and heart with explanations, with beliefs, with secondhand information, knowledge and experiences. Questioner: There is a third possibility. You show us only those two possibilities, but I feel quite distinctly that there is another way to meet sorrow. Krishnamurti: There may be many ways of meeting sorrow, but if there is a fundamental desire to seek comfort, all the methods resolve themselves into these two definite approaches, either to rationalize, or to seek refuge. Both these methods only assuage sorrow; they offer an escape. Questioner: What if a man re-marries? Krishnamurti: Even if he does, the problem of suffering still remains unsolved. This is also a postponement, a forgetting. One gives himself intellectual, rational explanations because he does not want to suffer. Another takes shelter in a belief, also to avoid suffering. Another takes refuge in the idea that if he can find truth there will be at last a cessation of suffering. Another, through cultivation of irresponsibility, avoids suffering. All are attempting to escape from suffering. Do not object to the words "shelter", "refuge". Substitute your own word - belief, God, truth, re-marriage, rationalization, and so on. But as long as there is a conscious or unconscious craving to escape from sorrow, illusion in many forms must exist. Now, why should you not suffer? When you are happy, when you are joyous, you do not say you must not be happy. You do not run away from joy, you do not seek a refuge from it. When you are in a state of ecstasy, you do not resort to beliefs, to substitutions. On the contrary, you destroy all things which stand in its way, your gods, your moralities, your values, your beliefs, everything, to maintain this ecstasy. Now why don't you do the same thing when you are suffering? Why don't you destroy all things that interfere with sorrow, the mind's many explanations, escapes, fears and illusions? If you sincerely and deeply put this question to yourself you will see that beliefs, gods, hopes, no longer matter. Then your life has a new and fundamental meaning. In the flame of love, all fear is consumed. August 5, 1937 OMMEN 5TH PUBLIC TALK 6TH AUGUST, 1937 Though intellectually we may perceive the cause of suffering, it has but little influence on our lives. Though we may intellectually agree that so long as there is attachment there is fear and sorrow, yet our desire is so strongly possessive that it overcomes all reasoning. Even though we may know the cause of suffering, suffering will continue, for mere intellectual knowledge is not sufficient to destroy the cause. So when the mind through analysis discovers the cause of suffering, that very discovery itself may become a refuge. The hope that by discovering the cause of sorrow, suffering will cease, is an illusion. Why does the mind seek the cause of sorrow? Obviously to overcome it. Yet in the moments of ecstasy there is no search for its cause; if there were, ecstasy would cease. In craving for ecstasy, we grope after those causes that stand in the way. This very craving for ecstasy and the intense desire to overcome sorrow prevent their fulfilment. A mind that is burdened with the desire for reality, for happiness, for love, cannot free itself from fear. Fear deadens sorrow as also it distorts joy. Is our whole being in direct contact with sorrow as it is with happiness, with joy? We are aware that we are not integral with sorrow; that there is a part of us which is trying to run away from it. In this process the mind has accumulated many treasures to which it clings desperately. When we realize this process of accumulation, then there is an urge to put a stop to it. Then we begin to seek methods, the way to get rid of these burdens. The very search for a method is another form of escape. The choice of methods, of a way to rid yourself of those accumulated burdens, which cause resistance, this very choice is born of a desire not to suffer and is therefore prejudicial. This prejudice is the outcome of the desire for refuge, comfort. Questioner: I think that nobody has thought what you have said just now. It is too complicated. Krishnamurti: We are trying to perceive, to feel truth which shall liberate man, not merely to find out what are the causes of sorrow. If what I have said, which may sound complicated, is the truth, then it is liberating. The discovery of truth is a complex process, for the mind has enveloped itself in many illusions. The dawning of truth does not lie in the choice of the essential as against the unessential. But when you begin to perceive the illusion of choice itself, then that revelation is liberating, spontaneously destroying the illusion upon which the mind nourishes itself. Is it love that, when it is thwarted, suffers, and there is bitterness, there is emptiness? It is the exposure of one's own smallness of love that is hurting. Whenever the mind chooses, its choice must be based on self-protective prejudice, and as we desire not to suffer, its acts are based on fear. Fear and reality cannot exist together. One destroys the other. But it is one of the illusions of the mind that creates the hope of something beyond its own darkness. This something, this hoped-for reality, is another form of refuge, another escape from sorrow. The mind perpetuates its own conditioned state through fear. Questioner: What you say leads to a very materialistic form of life. Krishnamurti: What do you mean by a materialistic form of life? That there is only this life, that there is no reality, no God, that morality must be based on social and economic convenience, and so on. Now, what is the non-materialistic attitude towards life? That there is God, that there is a soul which continues, that there is a hereafter, that the individual holds within himself the spark of the eternal. What is the difference between the two, the materialistic and the religious? Questioner: Both are beliefs. Krishnamurti: But why then do you despise the materialistic form of life? Questioner: Because it denies persistence. Krishnamurti: You are merely reacting to prejudice. Your religious life is fundamentally an irreligious one. Though you may cover it up by talking about God, love, the hereafter, in your heart it means nothing, just so many phrases which you have learnt as the materialistic man has learnt his ideas and phrases. Both the religious and the materialistic mind are conditioned by their own prejudices which prevent the integral comprehension of truth and the communion with it. Questioner: Yesterday you asked us to say why we tried to escape from suffering, and suddenly I saw the whole significance of it. If we give ourselves over to suffering instead of trying to escape from it, we break up the resistance within us. Krishnamurti: Yes, if it is not the effort of the will. But is not this giving oneself over to sorrow artificial, an effort of the intellect to gain something? Surely you do not give yourself over to ecstasy? If you do, it is not ecstasy. Questioner: I did not mean that. I meant that instead of trying to escape, you just suffer. Krishnamurti: Why do you feel that you must suffer? When you say to yourself that you must not escape, you are hoping that out of suffering you will achieve something. But when you are integrally aware of the illusion of all escape, then there is no will to resist the desire to escape, nor the will to achieve something through suffering. Questioner: Yes, I see that. Questioner: Will you please repeat what you have just now said. Krishnamurti: One does not give oneself over to joy. There is no duality in ecstasy. It is a state which spontaneously comes into being without our willing it. Suffering is an indication of duality. Without understanding this, we perpetuate duality through the many intellectual efforts and processes of overcoming it, giving oneself over to its opposite, developing virtues, and so forth. All such attempts only strengthen duality. Questioner: Do not the resistances which we put up against suffering also act as resistances against ecstasy? Krishnamurti: Of course. If there is a lack of sensibility to ugliness, to sorrow, there must also be deep insensitiveness to beauty, to joy. Resistance against sorrow is also a barrier to happiness. What is ecstasy? That state of being when the mind and heart are in complete union, when fear does not tear them asunder, when the mind is not withholding. Questioner: Is there a better way of suffering? A better way of living? Krishnamurti: There is, and this is what I have been trying to explain. If each one becomes aware of his own conditioned state, then he will begin to free himself from hate, ambition, attachment, from those fears which cripple life. If the mind destroys one conditioned state, only to enter into another, life becomes utterly vain and hopeless. This is what is happening to most of us, wandering from cage to cage, thinking that each is more free than the one before, while in reality each is but a different kind of limitation. That which is free cannot grow from the less to the more. Questioner: I accept the conditioned state in the same manner as that the globe is revolving, as a necessary part of development. Krishnamurti: Then we are not using intelligence. By merely asserting that all existence is conditioned, we shall never find out if there is a state that may not be conditioned. By becoming integrally aware of the conditioned state, each one will then begin to comprehend the freedom that comes through the cessation of fear. August 6, 1937 OMMEN 6TH PUBLIC TALK 8TH AUGUST, 1937 Relationship may be limited, between two individuals, or it may be with many, in an ever widening sphere. Limited or wide, the importance lies in the character of relationship. What do we mean by relationship? It is an adjustment between two individualistic desires. In this relationship there is strife of opposing ambitions, attachments, hopes, wants. Thus almost all relationship becomes one of strain and conflict. There is relationship not only with people and external values, but also with those values and conceptions within us. We are aware of this strife between friends, between neighbours, between ourselves and society. Must this conflict ever continue? We may adjust our relationship with another so cunningly that we never come into contact with each other vitally; or adjustment being impossible, two people may be forced to separate. But as long as there is any kind of activity there must be relationship between the individual and society, which may be one or many. Isolation is possible only in a complete state of neurosis. Unless one acts mechanically, unthinking and unfeeling, or is so conditioned that there is only one pattern of thought and feeling, all relationship is one of adjustment either of strife and resistance, or of yielding. Love is not of relationship, nor of adjustment; it is of a wholly different quality. Can this strife in relationship ever cease? We cannot, through mere experience, bring about a relationship without strife. Experience is a reaction to previous conditioning which in relationship produces conflict. The mere domination of environment with its social values, habits and thoughts, cannot bring about a relationship which is free from strife. There is conflict between the conditioning influences of desire and the swift, lively current of relationship. It is not, as most people think, relationship that is limiting, but it is desire that conditions. It is desire, conscious or unconscious, that is ever causing friction in relationship. Desire springs from ignorance. Desire cannot exist independently; it must feed on previous conditioning, which is ignorance. Ignorance can be dissipated. It is possible. Ignorance consists of the many forms of fear, of belief, of want, of attachment. These create conflict in relationship. When we are integrally aware of the process of ignorance, voluntarily, spontaneously, there is the beginning of that intelligence which meets all conditioning influences. We are concerned with the awakening of this intelligence, of this love, which alone can free the mind and heart from strife. The awakening of this intelligence, this love, is not the result of a disciplined, systematized morality, nor is it an achievement to be sought after, but it is a process of constant awareness. Questioner: Relationship is also a contact between habits, and through habit there is the continuity of activity. Krishnamurti: In most cases action is the result of habit, habit based on tradition, on thought and desire pattern, and this gives to action an apparent continuity. Generally, then, habit rules our action and relationship. Is action merely habit? If action is the outcome of mere mechanical habit, then it must lead to confusion and sorrow. In the same way, if relationship is merely the contact of two individualized habits, then all such relationship is suffering. But unfortunately we reduce all contact with each other to a dull and weary pattern through incapacity of adjustment, through fear, through lack of love. Habit is conscious or unconscious repetition of action which is guided by memory of past incidents, of tradition, of thought-desire patterns, and so forth. One often realizes that one is living in a narrow groove of thought and, breaking away from it, slips into another. This change from habit to habit is often called progress, experience or growth. Action, which may once have followed full awareness, often becomes habitual, without thought, without any depth of feeling. Can true relationship exist when the mind is merely following a pattern? Questioner: But there is a spontaneous response, which is not habit at all. Krishnamurti: Yes, we know of this, but such occasions are rare, and we would like to establish a relationship of spontaneity. Between what we would like to be and what we are there is a wide gap. What we would like to be is a form of ambitious attachment which has no significance to one who is searching out reality. If we can understand what we are, then perhaps we shall know what is. Can true relationship exist when the mind is merely following a pattern? When one is aware of that state called love, there is a dynamic relationship that is not of a pattern, that is beyond all mental definitions and calculations. But, through the conditioning influence of fear and desire, such relationship is reduced to mere gratification, to habit, to routine. Such a state is not true relationship but a form of death and decay. How can there be true relationship between two individualized patterns, though there may be mechanical response from each? Questioner: There is a continual adjustment between these two habits. Krishnamurti: Yes, but such adjustment is merely mechanical, which conflict and suffering enforce; such enforcement does not break down the fundamental desire to form habit patterns. Outside influences and inward determinations do not break down the formation of habit, but only aid in superficial and intellectual adjustment which is not conducive to true relationship. Is this state of patterns, of ideals, of conformity, conducive to fulfilment, to creative and intelligent life and action? Before we can answer this question, do we realize or are we aware of this state? If we are not aware of it there is no conflict, but if we are, then there is anxiety and suffering. From this we try to escape or try to break down old habits and patterns. In overcoming them, one merely creates others; the desire for mere change is stronger than the desire to be aware of the whole process of the formation of habit, of patterns. Hence we move from habit to habit. Questioner: Yes, I know habit is foolish, but can I break away from it? Krishnamurti: Before you ask me how to overcome a particular habit, let us find out what is the thing that is creating habit, because you may break away from one habit, one pattern, but in that very process you may be forming another. This is what we generally do, go from one habit to another. We will go on doing this indefinitely unless we find out why it is that the mind ever seeks to form habits, follow thought-desire patterns. All true relationship requires constant alertness and adjustment not according to pattern. Where there is habit, the following of patterns, ideals, this state of pliability is impossible. To be pliable demands constant thought and affection, and as the mind finds it is easier to establish behaviour patterns than to be aware, it proceeds to form habits; and when it is shaken from a particular one, through affliction and uncertainty, it moves on to another. Fear for its own security and comfort compels the mind to follow thought-desire patterns. Society thus becomes the maker of habit, patterns, ideals, for society is the neighbour, the immediate relation with which one is ever in contact. August 8, 1937 OMMEN 7TH PUBLIC TALK 9TH AUGUST, 1937 Suffering is the indication of the process of thought and desire patterns. This suffering the mind seeks to overcome by putting itself to sleep again through the development of other patterns and other illusions. From this self-imposed limitation the mind is again shaken, and again it induces itself to thoughtlessness, till it so identifies itself with some thought-desire pattern or belief that it can no longer be shaken or allow itself to suffer. This state many realize and consider as the highest achievement. Once you develop the will that merely overcomes all habit, conditioning, that very will itself becomes thoughtless and repetitive. We must understand both the habitual action and the ideal or conceptual action, before we can comprehend action without illusion. For reality lies in actuality. Awareness is not the development of an introspective will, but it is the spontaneous unification of all the separative forces of desire. Questioner: Is awareness a matter of slow growth? Krishnamurti: Where there is intense interest there is full awareness. As one is mentally lazy and emotionally crippled with fear, awareness becomes a matter of slow growth. Then it is not really awareness but a process of carefully building up walls of resistance. As most of us have built up these self-protecting walls, awareness appears to be a slow process, a growth, thus satisfying our slothfulness. Out of this laziness we carve theories of postponement - eventually but not now, enlightenment is a process of slow growth, of life after life, and so on. We proceed to rationalize this slothfulness and satisfactorily arrange our lives according to it. Questioner: This process seems inevitable. But how is one to awaken quickly? Krishnamurti: Is it a slow process for individuals to change from violence to peace? I think not. If one really perceives the whole significance of hate, affection spontaneously comes into being; what prevents this immediate and deep perception is our unconscious fear of intellectual and desire commitments and patterns. For such a perception might involve a drastic change in our daily life: the withering away of ambition, the putting away of all nationalistic, class distinctions, attachments, and so on. This fear is prompting us, warning us, and we consciously or unconsciously yield to it and thereby increase our safeguards, which only engenders further fear. So long as we do not comprehend this process we shall ever be thinking in terms of postponement, of growth, of overcoming. Fear cannot be dissolved in the future; only in constant awareness can it cease to be. Questioner: I think we must come quickly to peace. Krishnamurti: If you hate because your intellectual and emotional well-being is threatened in many ways and if you merely resort to further violence, though you may successfully, for the moment at least, ward off fear, hate will continue. It is only by constantly being aware, that fear and hate can disappear. Do not think in terms of postponement. Begin to be aware, and if there is interest, that itself will bring about, spontaneously, a state of peace, of affection. War, the war in you, the hate of your neighbour, of other peoples, cannot be overcome by violence in any form. If you begin to see the utter necessity of deeply thinking-feeling about it now, your prejudices, your conditioning, which are the cause of hate and fear, will be revealed. In this revelation there is an awakening of affection, love. Questioner: I think that it will take all our life to overcome fear, hate. Krishnamurti: You are again thinking in terms of postponement. Does each one feel the appallingness of hate and perceive its consequences? If you deeply feel this, then you are not concerned with when hate will cease, for it has already yielded to something in which alone there can be deep human contact and cooperation. If one is conscious of hate or violence in different forms, can that violence be done away with through the process of time? Questioner: No, not by the mere passing of time. One would have to have a method to get rid of it. Krishnamurti: No, the mere passage of time cannot resolve hate; it may be covered over heavily or carefully watched over and guarded. But fear, hate, will still continue. Can a system help you to get rid of hate? It may help you to subjugate it, control it, strengthen your will to combat it, but it will not bring about that affection which alone can give man abiding freedom. If you do not feel deeply that hate is inherently poisonous, no system, no authority, can destroy it for you. Questioner: You may intellectually see that hate is poison, but still you feel hate. Krishnamurti: Why does this happen? Is it not because intellectually you are overdeveloped and still primitive in your desires? There cannot be harmony between the beautiful and the ugly. The cessation of hate cannot be brought about through any method, but only through constant awareness of the conditionings that have brought about this division between love and hate. Why does this division exist? Questioner: Lack of love. Questioner: Ignorance. Krishnamurti: Don't you see, by merely repeating that if one really lived rightly this division would not exist, that by not being ignorant it would disappear, that habit is the cause of this division, that if we were not conditioned there would be perfect love - don't you see that you are merely intoning certain phrases that you have learnt? Of what value is this? None. Is each one of you conscious of this division? Please, don't answer. Consider what is taking place in yourself. We see that we are in conflict, that there is hate and yet at the same time a disgust for it. There is this division. We can see how this division has come into being, through various conditioning causes. The mere consideration of the causes is not going to bring freedom from hate, fear. The problem of starvation is not solved by merely discovering its causes - the bad economic system, over-production, maldistribution, and so on. If you, personally, are hungry, your hunger will not be satisfied merely by your knowing the causes of it. In the same way, merely knowing the causes of hate, fear, with its various conflicts, will not dissolve it. What will put an end to hate is choiceless awareness, the cessation of all intellectual effort to overcome hate. Questioner: We are not conscious enough of this hate. Krishnamurti: When we are conscious, we object to the conflict, to the suffering involved in this conflict, and proceed to act, hoping to overcome all conflict. This only further strengthens the intellect. You have to be aware of all this process, silently, spontaneously, and in this awareness there comes a new element which is not the result of any violence, any effort, and which alone can free you from hate and those conditionings that cripple. August 9, 1937 OMMEN 8TH PUBLIC TALK 10TH AUGUST, 1937 Hate is not dissolved through experience nor through any accumulation of virtue, nor can it be overcome by the practice of love. All these merely cover up fear hate. Be aware of this and then there will be a tremendous transformation in your life. Questioner: What relationship has the illusion of this psychological growth to the growth which we see around us? Krishnamurti: We see that which is capable of growth is not enduring. But to our psychological growth each one of us clings, as something permanent. If we felt deeply and so were aware that all things are in continual change, a constant becoming, then perhaps we should be able to free ourselves from the conflict which exists in ourselves and so with the neighbour, with society. Questioner: It seems to me I cannot jump from hate to love, but I can transform my antipathy slowly into a feeling of understanding and like. Krishnamurti: We cannot wipe the mind clean of past conditioning and start anew. But we can be aware what it is that maintains fear, hate. We can be aware of the psychological causes and reactions that prevent us from acting integrally. The past is dominating us, with its beliefs, hopes, fears, conclusions, memories; this prevents us from integral action. We cannot wipe out the past, for in its essence the mind is of the past. But by being aware of the accumulations of the past and their effect on the present, we shall begin to free ourselves without violence from those values which cripple the mind and heart. Is this, the past with its dominating influences, fears, an acute problem to you, personally? Life as it is, breeding wars, hatreds, divisions, despoiling unity -is this a problem to you? If it is, then, as you are a part of it, you will comprehend it only through your own sufferings, ambitions, fears. The world is you and its problem is your intimate problem. If it is an acute problem, as I hope it is with each one of you, then you will never escape into any theories, explanations, "facts", illusions. But that requires great alertness, one has to be intensely aware; so we prefer the easier way, the way of escape. How can you solve this problem if your mind and heart are being diverted from it? I do not say that this problem is simple. It is complex. So you must give your mind and heart to it. But how can you give your whole being to it if you are running away from it, if you are being diverted through various escapes which the mind has established for itself? Questioner: But we do not see it at the moment of escape. Krishnamurti: We are attempting to understand ourselves, to open up the hidden corners of the mind, to see the various escapes, so that spontaneously we shall face life, deeply and fully. Any form of overcoming one habit by another, overcoming hate by virtues, is a substitution, and the cultivation of opposites does not do away with those qualities from which we desire to free ourselves. We have to perceive hate, not as an antithesis of love, but as in itself poisonous, an evil. Questioner: Don't you think that we can see the different escapes? We can know that hatred is poisonous, and at the same time we know that we are going on with it. But I think that if we would comprehend it fully, then we must be willing to leave everything - home, wife, everything; we must shake hands and say goodbye and go to a concentration camp. Krishnamurti: Do not think of the consequences of being without hate, but consider if you can free yourself from it. Do you say to yourself that you are incapable of getting rid of hate? Questioner: We can only try; we do not know. Krishnamurti: Why do you say you do not know? Questioner: Because it is not our actual problem. Krishnamurti: Though hate exists in the world, in you and about you, yet you say that it is not an acute problem to you. You are not conscious of it. Why are you not conscious of it? Either because you are free from it, or you have so entrenched yourself, so cunningly protected yourself, that you have no fear, no hate, for you are certain of your own security. Questioner: We do not feel hate at this moment. Krishnamurti: When you are not here, then you do feel it, then it is a problem to you. Here you have momentarily escaped from it, but the problem still exists. You cannot escape from it, either here or in any other place. It is a problem to you, whether you want it or not. Though it is a problem, you have put it away, you have become unconscious of it. And therefore you say that you do not know how you will act with regard to it. Questioner: We often wish that life itself would directly act, and take away from us those things we cherish though we know their worthlessness. Is this also an escape? Krishnamurti: Some people seem relieved in time of war. They have no responsibilities; their life is directed by the War Office. In this lies one of the main reasons why authority temporal or spiritual, flourishes and is worshipped. Death is preferable to life. We have been trained to think that hate is inevitable, that we must go through this stage, that it is part of human heritage, instinct. We are used to thinking that hate cannot be got rid of immediately; that we must go through some kind of discipline to overcome hate. Thus there is a dual process going on within us, violence and peace, hate and affection, anger and kindliness. Our effort goes towards bridging these two separate forces, or overcoming one by the other, or concentrating on one so that its opposite shall disappear. Whatever effort you make to destroy hate by love, is in vain, for violence, fear, reveal themselves in another form. We have to go much deeper than mere discipline; we have to find out why this duality of hate and affection exists within us. Until this dual process ceases, the conflict of opposites must continue. Questioner: Perhaps hate does not really belong to me? Questioner: Is our love too poor then? Krishnamurti: These questions are very revealing, they show how the mind is conditioned. Whatever effort the mind makes must be part of that from which it is trying to get away. The mind finds that it does not pay to hate, for it has discovered that there is too much suffering involved in it, and so it makes an effort to discipline itself, to overcome hate by love, to subdue violence and fear by peace. All this indicates the fundamental desire merely to escape from suffering; that is, to guard itself in those virtues and qualities that will not give it pain, that will not cause disturbance. Until this desire, this craving for self-protective security, ceases, fear must continue, with all its consequences. Mind cannot get rid of fear. In its attempt to do so it cultivates the opposites, which is part of fear itself. Thus the mind divides itself, creates within itself a dual process. All effort on the part of the mind must maintain this duality, though it may develop tendencies, characteristics, virtues, to overcome that very duality. Questioner: I do not quite see how the mind has divided itself into love and hate. Krishnamurti: There is good and evil, the light and the dark. Light and darkness cannot exist together. One destroys the other. If light is light, then darkness, evil, ceases to exist. Effort is not necessary, it is then non-existent. But we are in a state of continual effort, because that which to us is light, is not light, it is only the light, the good of the intellect. We are making constant effort to overcome, to acquire, to possess, to be detached, to expand. There are moments of clarity amidst the enveloping confusion. We desire this clarity and cling to it, hoping that it will dissolve the conflicting wants. This desire for clarity, this desire to overcome one quality by another, is waste of energy; for the will that craves, the will that overcomes, is the will of success, satisfaction, the will of security. This will must ever continue creating and maintaining fear, even though it is asserting that it is seeking truth, God. Its clarity is the clarity of escape, of illusion, but not the clarity of reality. When the will destroys itself, spontaneously, then there is that truth which is beyond all effort. Effort is violence; love and violence cannot exist together. The conflict in which we exist is not a struggle between good and evil, between the self and the not-self. The struggle is in our own self-created duality, between our various self-protective desires. There cannot be a conflict between light and darkness; where light is, darkness is not. As long as fear exists, there must continue conflict, though that fear may disguise itself under different names. And as fear cannot free itself through any means, for all its efforts spring from its own source, there must be the cessation of all intellectual safeguards. This cessation comes, spontaneously, when the mind reveals to itself its own process. This takes place only when there is integral awareness, which is not the result of a discipline, or of a moral or economic system, or of enforcement. Each one has to become aware of the process of ignorance, the illusions that one has created. Intellect cannot lead you out of this present chaos, confusion and suffering. Reason must exhaust itself, not by retreating, but through integral comprehension and love of life. When reason no longer has the capacity to protect you, through explanations, escapes, logical conclusions, then when there is complete vulnerability, utter nakedness of your whole being, there is the flame of love. Truth alone can free each one from the sorrow and confusion of ignorance. Truth is not the end of experience it is life itself. It is not of tomorrow, it is of no time. It is not a result, an achievement, but the cessation of fear, want. August 10, 1937 OMMEN 1ST PUBLIC TALK 4TH AUGUST, 1938 Have you ever tried to communicate to a friend something which you feel very deeply? You must have found it very difficult, however intimate that friendship may be. You can imagine how difficult it is for us here to understand each other, for our relationship is peculiar. There is not that friendship which is essential for deep communication and understanding. Most of us have the attitude either of a disciple towards a teacher, or of a follower, or of one who tries to force himself to a particular point of view, and communication becomes very difficult. It is further complicated if you have a propagandist attitude, if you come merely in order to propagate certain ideas of a particular society or sect, or an ideology that is popular at the moment. Free communication is possible only when both the listener and the talker are thinking together on the same point. During these days of the Camp there should not be this attitude of a teacher and a disciple, of a leader and a follower, but rather, a friendly communication with each other, which is impossible if the mind is held in any belief or in any ideology. There is never a friendship between a leader and a follower, and hence deep communication between them is impossible. I am talking about something which to me is real, in which I take joy, and it will be of very little significance to you if you are thinking of something quite different. If we can somehow go beyond this absurd relationship that we have established through tradition and legend, through superstition and all kinds of fantasies, then perhaps we shall be able to understand each other more naturally. What I want to say seems, to me at least, very simple, but when these thoughts and feelings are put into words they become complicated. Communication becomes more difficult when you, with your particular prejudices, superstitions and barriers, try to perceive what I am trying to say, instead of attempting to clear your own mind of those perversions that prevent full understanding - which alone can bring about a critical and affectionate attitude. As you know, this Camp is not meant for propaganda purposes, for either Right or Left, or for any particular society or ideology. I know there are many here who regularly come to the Camp to do propaganda for their societies, for their nationality, for their church, and so on. So I would seriously ask you not to indulge in this kind of pastime. We are here for more serious purposes. Those who have an itch for this kind of pastime have plenty of opportunity elsewhere. Here, at least, let us try to find out what we individually think and feel, and then, perhaps, we will begin to understand the chaos, the hate that exists in and about us. Each one of us has many problems: whether one should become a pacifist, or how far one should go towards pacifism; whether one should fight for one's country; social and economic problems, and the problems of belief, conduct and affection. I am not going to give an answer which will immediately solve these problems. But what I should like to do is to point out a new approach to them, so that when you are face to face with these problems of nationalism, war, peace, exploitation, belief, love, you will be able to meet them integrally and from a point of view which is real. So please do not at the beginning of these talks expect an immediate solution for your various problems. I know Europe is a perfect madhouse, in which there is talk of peace and at the same time preparation for war; in which frontiers and nationalism are being strengthened while at the same time there is talk of human unity; there is talk of God, of love, and at the same time hate is rampant. This is not only the problem of the world, but your own problem, for the world is you. To face these problems you must be unconditionally free. If you are in any way bound, that is, if in any way you have fear, you cannot solve any of these problems. Only in unconditioned freedom is there truth; that is, in that freedom alone can you be truly yourself. To be integral in one's whole being is to be unconditioned. If in any way, in any manner, you have doubt, craving, fear, these create a conditioned mind which prevents the ultimate solution of the many problems. I want to explain in what manner to approach the freedom from conditioning fear, so that you can be yourself at all times and under all circumstances. This state without fear is possible, in which alone can there be ecstasy, reality, God. Unless one is fully, integrally free from fear, problems merely increase and become suffocating, without any meaning and purpose. This is what I want to say: that only in unconditioned freedom is there truth, and to be utterly oneself, integral in one's whole being, is to be unconditioned, which reveals reality. So what is it - to be oneself? And can we be ourselves at all times? One can be oneself at all times only if one is doing something that one really loves; and if one loves completely. When you are doing something which you cannot help doing with your whole being, you are being yourself. Or when you love another completely, in that state you are yourself, without any fear, without any hindrance. In these two states one is completely oneself. So one has to find out what it is that one loves to do. I am using the word "love" deliberately. What is it that with your whole being you love to do? You do not know. We do not know what it is wise to do, and what is foolish, and the discovery of what is wise and what is foolish is the whole process of living. You are not going to discover this in the twinkling of an eye. But how is one to discover it? Is it to be discovered - what is wise and what is foolish - mechanically, or spontaneously? When you do something with your whole being, in which there is no sense of frustration or fear, no limitation, in this state of action you are yourself, irrespective of any outward condition. I say, if you can come to that state, when you are yourself in action, then you will find out the ecstasy of reality, God. Is this state to be mechanically achieved, cultivated, or does it come into being spontaneously? I will explain what I mean by the mechanical process. All action imposed from without must be habit-forming, must be mechanical, and therefore not spontaneous. Can you discover what it is to be yourself through tradition? Let me here digress a little and say that we will try, as we did last year, to talk over these ideas during the following meetings. We will try to take up the various points; not arguing with each other, but in a friendly manner finding out what we individually think about these things. In my first talk I want to give a brief outline of what, to me, is the real process of living. Can you be yourself if your being is in any way touched by tradition? Or can you find yourself through example, through precept? Questioner: What is precept? Krishnamurti: Through a precept, through a saying - that evil is all that which divides and good all that which unites - by merely following a principle, can you be yourself? Will living according to a pattern, an ideal, following it ruthlessly, meditating upon it, bring you to the discovery of yourself? Can that which is real be perceived through discipline or will? That is, by exertion, by an effort of the intellect, curbing, controlling, disciplining, guiding, forcing thought in a particular direction, can you know yourself? And can you know yourself through behaviour patterns; that is, by preconceiving a mode of life, of what is good, the ideal, and following it constantly, twisting your thought and feeling to its dictates, putting aside what you consider evil and ruthlessly following what you consider to be good? Will this process reveal to you that which you are, whatever that is? Can you discover yourself through compulsion? It is a form of compulsion, this ruthless overcoming of difficulties through will, discipline - this subduing and resisting, a withholding and a yielding. All this is the exertion of will, which I consider to be mechanical, a process of the intellect. Can you know yourself through these means - through these mechanical means? All effort, mechanical or of the will, is habit-forming. Through the forming of habit you may be able to create a certain state, achieve a certain ideal which you may consider to be yourself, but as it is the result of an intellectual effort or the effort of the will, it is wholly mechanical and hence not true. Can this process yield the comprehension of yourself, of what you are? Then there is the other state, which is spontaneous. You can know yourself only when you are unaware, when you are not calculating, not protecting, not constantly watching to guide, to transform, to subdue, to control; when you see yourself unexpectedly, that is, when the mind has no preconceptions with regard to itself, when the mind is open, unprepared to meet the unknown. If your mind is prepared, surely you cannot know the unknown, for you are the unknown. If you say to yourself, "I am God", or "I am nothing but a mass of social influences or a bundle of qualities" - if you have any preconception of yourself, you cannot comprehend the unknown, that which is spontaneous. So spontaneity can come only when the intellect is unguarded, when it is not protecting itself, when it is no longer afraid for itself; and this can happen only from within. That is, the spontaneous must be the new, the unknown, the incalculable, the creative, that which must be expressed, loved, in which the will as the process of intellect, controlling, directing, has no part. Observe your own emotional states and you will see that the moments of great joy, great ecstasy, are unpremeditated; they happen, mysteriously, darkly, unknowingly. When they are gone, the mind desires to recreate those moments, to recapture them, and so you say to yourself: "If I can follow certain laws, form certain habits, act in this way but not in that, then I shall have those moments of ecstasy again". There is always a war between the spontaneous and the mechanical. Please do not adapt this to suit your own religious, philosophic terms. To me, what I am saying is vitally new and cannot be twisted to suit your particular prejudices of the higher and the lower self, the transient and the permanent, the self and the not-self, and so on. Most of us have, unfortunately, almost destroyed this spontaneity, this creative joy of the unknown from which alone there can be wise action. We have sedulously cultivated through generations of tradition, of morality based on will, of compulsion, the mechanical attitude of life, calling it by sweet-sounding words; in essence it is purely mechanical, intellectual. The process of discipline, of violence, of subjugation, of resistance, of imitation - all this is the outcome of the development of the mere intellect, which has its root in fear. The mechanical is overwhelmingly dominant in our lives. On this is based our civilization and morality - and at rare moments, when the will is dormant, forgotten, there is the joy of the spontaneous, the unknown. I say that in this state of spontaneity alone can you perceive that which is truth. In this state alone can there be wise action, not the action of calculated morality or of will. The various forms of moral and religious disciplines, the many impositions of social and ethical institutions, are but the outcome of a carefully cultivated mechanical attitude towards life, which destroys spontaneity and brings about the destruction of truth. Through no method - and all methods must inevitably be mechanical - can you unravel the truth of your own being. One cannot force spontaneity by any means. No method will give you spontaneity. All methods can but create mechanical reactions. No discipline will bring about the spontaneous joy of the unknown. The more you force yourself to be spontaneous, the more spontaneity retreats, the more hidden and obscure it becomes and the less it can be understood. And yet that is what you are trying to do when you follow disciplines, patterns, ideals, leaders, examples, and so forth. You must approach it negatively, not with the intention of capturing the unknown, the real. Is each one aware of the mechanical process of the intellect, of the will, which destroys the spontaneous, the real? You cannot answer immediately, but you can begin to think about the intellect, the will, and specially feel its destructive quality. You can perceive the illusory nature of the will, not through any compulsion, not through any desire to achieve, to attain, to understand, but only when the intellect allows itself to be denuded of all its protective sheaths. You can know yourself only when you love completely. This, again, is the whole process of life, not to be gathered in a few moments, from a few words of mine. You cannot be yourself when love is dependent. It is not love when it is merely self-gratification, though it may be mutual. It is not love when there is a withholding; it is not love when it is merely a means to an end; when it is merely sensation. You cannot be yourself when love is at the behest of fear; it is then fear, not love, that is expressing itself in many ways, though you may cover it up by calling it love. Fear cannot allow you to be yourself. Intellect merely guides fear, controls it, but can never destroy it, for intellect is the very cause of fear. As fear cannot allow you to be yourself, how then is one to overcome this fear - fear of all kinds, not of one particular type? How is one to free oneself from this fear, of which one may be conscious or unconscious? If you are unconscious of fear, become conscious of it; become aware of your thoughts and actions, and soon you will be conscious of fear. And if you are conscious of it, how are you going to be free from it? Are you going to free yourself from fear mechanically, through will; or will it begin to dissolve of its own accord, spontaneously? The mechanical or the will process can but hide away fear more and more, guard it and carefully withhold it, allowing only the reactions of controlled morality. Below this controlled behaviour pattern, fear must ever continue. This is the inevitable result of the mechanical process of the will, with its disciplines, desires, controls, and so on. Until one frees oneself from the mechanical, there cannot be the spontaneous, the real. Craving for the real, for that flame which bursts from within, cannot bring it about. What will free you from the mechanical is the deep observation of the process of the will, being one with it, without any desire to be free from it. Now you observe the mechanical attitude towards life with a desire to get rid of it, to alter it, transform it. How can you transform will when desire is of the will itself? You must be aware of the whole process of will, of the mechanical, of its struggles, its escapes, its miseries; and as the farmer allows the soil to lie fallow after a harvest, so must you allow yourself to be silent, negative, without any expectation. It is not easy. If in the hope of gaining the real, you mechanically allow yourself to be silent, force yourself to be negative, then fear is the reward. As I have said, this creative emptiness is not to be run after or sought by devious ways. It must happen. Truth is. It is not the result of organized morality, for morality based on will is not moral. We have many problems, individual as well as social, and for these problems there is no solution through the intellect, through the will. As long as the process of will continues in any form, there must be confusion and sorrow. Through will you cannot know yourself, nor can there be the real. August 4, 1938 OMMEN 2ND PUBLIC TALK 6TH AUGUST, 1938 You may remember that I was trying to explain the difference between spontaneity and mechanical action, the mechanical being the morality of the will, and the spontaneous that which is born out of the depth of one's own being. This morning I will talk about one or two things concerning this, and then let us discuss them. I was saying that fear in any form creates habit, which prevents unconditioned freedom in which alone there is reality, in which alone there can be the integrity of oneself. Fear prevents spontaneity. Now it would be rather ridiculous, and impossible, to consider what it is to be spontaneous, or to judge who is spontaneous and who is not, and to consider also the qualities, the characteristics of spontaneity. Each one will know what it is to be spontaneous, to be real, when there is the right inward condition. You will know for yourself when you are truly spontaneous, when you are really yourself. To judge another to see if he is spontaneous means, really, that you have a standard of spontaneity, which is absurd. The judgment of what is spontaneous reveals a mind that is merely reacting mechanically to its own habit and moral patterns. So it is futile and a waste of time, leading to mere opinion, to consider what it is to be real, spontaneous, to be oneself. Such consideration leads to illusion. Let us concern ourselves with what is the necessary condition that will reveal the real. Now what is the right condition? There is no division as the inner and the outer condition; I am dividing it as the inner and the outer only for purposes of observation, to understand it more clearly. This division does not exist in reality. From the right inward state alone can the outer conditions be changed, ameliorated and fundamentally transformed. The approach from the merely superficial, that is, from the outer, in creating right conditions, will have little significance in understanding truth, God. One has to understand what is the right inner condition, but not from any superficial compulsion or authority. The deep inward change will always intelligently deal with the outward conditions. Once and for all, let us fully perceive the importance of this necessary inward change and not merely rely on the change of outer circumstances. It is ever the inward motive and intentions that change and control the outer. Motives, desires, are not fundamentally altered by merely controlling the outer. If a man is inwardly peaceful and is affectionate, without greed, surely such a man does not need laws imposing peace on him, police to regulate his conduct, institutions to maintain his morality. Now we have given great significance to the outer, to maintain peace; through institutions, laws, police, armies, churches, and so on, we seek to maintain a peace which does not exist. By imposition and domination, opposing violence by violence, we hope to create a peaceful state. If you really comprehend this, deeply, honestly, then you will see the importance of not approaching the many problems of life as the outer and the inner, but only from the comprehensive and the integral. So what is the inward condition necessary to be oneself, to be spontaneous? The first necessary inward condition is that the habit-forming mechanism must cease. What is the motive power behind this mechanism? Before we answer this we must first find out whether our thoughts and feelings are the result of mere habit, tradition, and are following ideals and principles. Most of us, if we really think about it intelligently, honestly, will see that our thoughts and feelings usually spring from various standardized patterns, whether they be ideals or principles. The continuation of this mechanical habit and its motive power, is the desire to be certain. The whole mechanism of tradition, of imitation, of example, the building up of a future, of the ideal, of the perfect and its achievement, is the desire to be secure; and the development of various supposedly necessary qualities is for its assurance, for its success. Desire gives a false continuity to our thinking, and mind clings to that continuity whose actions are the mere following of patterns, ideals, principles, and the establishment of habit. Thus experience is never new, never fresh, never joyous, never creative; and hence the extraordinary vitality of dead things, of the past. Now let us take a few examples and see what I mean. Take the habit of nationalism, which is now becoming more and more strong and cruel. Is not nationalism really a false love of man? One who is at heart a nationalist can never be a complete human being. To a nationalist, internationalism is a lie. Many insist that one can be a nationalist and at the same time be of no nation: this is an impossibility and only a trick of the mind. To be attached to one particular piece of earth prevents the love of the whole. Having created a false and unnatural problem of nationalism, we proceed to solve it through clever and complex arguments for the necessity of nationalism and its maintenance through armaments, hate and division. All such answers must be utterly stupid and false, for the problem itself is an illusion and a perversion. Let us understand this question of nationalism, and in this respect at least let us remain sane in a world of brutal regimentation and insanity. Is not the organized love of one's country, with its regimented hate and affection, cultivated and imposed through propaganda, through leaders, merely a vested interest? Does not this so-called love of one's. country exist because it feeds one's own egotism through devious ways? All enforcement and gratification must inevitably create mechanical habits which must constantly come into conflict with one's own integrity and affections. Prejudice, hate, fear, must create division, which inevitably breeds war; war not only within oneself, but also between peoples. If nationalism is merely a habit, what is one to do? Not having a passport does not make you free of the nationalistic habit. Mere super- ficial action does not liberate you from the brutal inner conviction of a particular racial superiority. When you are confronted with the feelings of nationalism, what is your reaction? Do you feel that they are inevitable, that you must go through nationalism to come to internationalism, that you must pass through the brutal to become pacific? What is your reasoning? Or do you not reason at all, but merely follow the flag because there are millions doing this absurd thing? Why are you all so silent? But how eager you will be to discuss with me about God, reincarnation or ceremonies! This question of nationalism is knocking at your door whether you will or not, and what is your answer? Questioner: Is it not possible to look upon nationalism as an improvement on provincialism? And therefore the first step towards internationalism? Questioner: It is the same thing, surely. Questioner: I find nationalism an extended provincialism. Questioner: It does seem to me, sir, that you perhaps overemphasize the nationalist position. It seems to me that there is less national feeling today in some quarters of the globe than there was fifty years ago, and that as time goes on the national feeling may become less amongst more and more people, and that internationalism may therefore have more chance. I think it is most important to have time for the moderate elements in the population to increase their international thoughts and feelings, and to prevent, if possible, some explosion which would sweep away the good in the present civilization along with the bad. Krishnamurti: The point is this, is it not: Can you at any time come to peace through violence - whether you call it provincialism, nationalism or internationalism? Is peace to be achieved through slow stages? Love is not a matter of education or of time. The last war was fought for democracy, I believe, and look, we are more prepared for war than ever before, and people are less free. Please do not indulge in mere intellectual argumentations. Either you take your feelings and thoughts seriously, and consider them deeply, or you are satisfied by superficial intellectual answers. If you think you are seeking truth, or creating in the world a true human relationship, nationalism is not the way; nor can this human relationship of affection, of friendship, be established by means of guns. if you love deeply there is neither the one nor the many. There is only that state of being which is love, in which there may be the one, but it is not the exclusion of the many. But if you say to yourself that through the love of the one there will be the love of the many, then you are not considering love at all but merely the result of love, which is a form of fear. Now let us take another example of the process of the habit-forming. mechanism which destroys creative living. You must be made new to understand reality. Take the question of the way we treat people. Have you noticed how you yourself treat people - one whom you think to be superior, with great consideration, and the inferior with offensive contempt and indifference? Have you noticed it? (Yes) It is obvious in this Camp; the way you treat me and the way you treat one of your fellow campers or those who help in running the Camp; the way you behave to a titled person, and to a commoner; the respect you pay to money, and the respect you do not pay to the poor, and so on. Is not this the result of mere habit, of tradition, of imitation, of the desire to succeed, the habit of gratifying one's own vanity? Please just think about this and perceive how the mind lives and continues in habit, though it is asserting that it must be spontaneous, free. What is the good of your listening to me if the obvious thing is escaping your consideration? Again you are silent, because this is a common event in your lives, and so you are a bit nervous of approaching it for you do not want to be exposed too radically. If this habit exists - and it is merely a habit and not a deliberate, conscious action except in the case of a few - when you become conscious of it, it will disappear, if you really love this whole process of living. But if you are not interested, you will listen to me, and you may be intellectually excited for a few minutes, but you will continue in the same old manner. But those of you who are deeply interested, who love to understand truth, to you I say, observe how this or any other habit creates a chain of memories which becomes more and more strong, till there is only the "I", the "me". This mechanism is the "I", and as long as this process exists there cannot be the ecstasy of love, of truth. Let us take another example, that of meditation. Now I see you are beginning to take interest. Nationalism, the way we treat people, love, meditation - all these are part of the same process; they all spring from the one source, but we are examining each separately to understand them better. Perhaps you will talk over with me this question of meditation, for most of you, in one way or another, practise this thing called meditation, don't you? (Yes and No) Some do; some do not. Those of you who do, why do you do it? And those of you who do not, why don't you? Those who do not meditate, what is their motive? Either their attitude is one of complete thoughtlessness, indifference, or they are afraid of becoming involved in all this rubbish, or they fear to reveal themselves to themselves, or there is the fear of acquiring new and inconvenient habits, and so on. Those who do meditate, what is their motive? Questioner: Egotism. Krishnamurti: Are you putting forward this word as an explanation? I can give you also a very good explanation, but we are trying to go beyond mere explanations. Mere explanations usually put a stop to thinking. What are we trying to do in talking this matter over? We are exposing ourselves. We are helping each other to see what we are. You are acting as a mirror to me, and I as a mirror to you, without distortion. But if you merely give an explanation, just throw off a few words, you cloud the mirror, which prevents clear perception. We are trying to find out why we meditate, and what it means. Those of you who meditate, you do it presumably because you feel that you need a certain poise and clarity, through self-recollectedness, to deal with the problems of life. So you set aside some time for this purpose and you hope during this period to come into contact with something real, which will help to guide you during the day. Is this not so? (Yes) During this period you begin to discipline yourself, or during the whole day you discipline your thoughts and feelings, and so your actions, according to the established pattern of those few moments of so-called meditation. Questioner: No, I consider it a step on the pathway to the liberation of the self, a footstep only. Krishnamurti: Surely you are saying the same thing as I am pointing out, only you put it in your own words. Through discipline can you liberate thought, liberate emotion? This is the point which the questioner raises. Can one discipline oneself in order to become spontaneous, to comprehend the unknown, the real? Discipline implies a pattern, a mould which is shaping, and that which is truth must be the unknown and cannot be approached by the known. Questioner: I think I meditate because I want to know myself, because I am afraid of myself, because I hate myself as I hate my neighbour, and I want to know myself to protect myself. I hate my neighbour, and I love him. I hate him because he threatens my habits, my well-being. I love him because I want him. And I am a nationalist because I am afraid of those across the frontier. I protect myself in every way possible. Krishnamurti: You are saying that you meditate in order to protect yourself. (Yes) That is so, but we should go more deeply into this question of discipline, not only the discipline imposed by the outside world through various institutions of organized morality, through particular social systems, but also the discipline that desire develops. Discipline imposed from without, by society, by leaders, and so on, must inevitably destroy individual fulfilment; I think this is fairly obvious. For such discipline, compulsion, conformity, merely postpones the inevitable problem of the individual fear with its many illusions. Now there are many reasons for disciplining oneself; there is the desire to protect oneself in various ways, by achievement, by trying to become wiser, nobler, by finding the Master, by becoming more virtuous, by following principles, ideals, by wanting and craving for truth, for love, and so on. All this indicates the working of fear, and the noble reasons are but the coverings of this innate fear. You say to yourself: "In order to reach God, to find out reality, to put myself in communion with the Absolute, with the Cosmic" -you know all the phrases - "I must begin to discipline myself. I must learn to be more concentrated. I must practise awareness, develop certain virtues". When you are asserting these things and disciplining yourself, what is happening to your thoughts and emotions? Questioner: Do you mean it is a form of self-glorification? Questioner: We are forming habits. Krishnamurti: Suppose one conceives a pattern of what is good, or it has been imposed through tradition, education, or one has learnt that evil is that which divides; and if this is the ideal, the pattern for life's conduct that one pursues through meditation, through self-imposed discipline, then what is happening to one's own thoughts and emotions? One is forcing them, violently or lovingly, to conform, and thereby establishing a new habit instead of the old. Is this not so? (Yes) Thus intellect, will, is controlling and shaping morality; will based on the desire to protect oneself. The desire to protect oneself is born of fear, which denies reality. The way of discipline is the process of fear, and the habit created by so-called meditation destroys spontaneity, the revelation of the unknown. Questioner: Is it not possible to form a habit of love without losing spontaneity? Krishnamurti: Habit is of the mind, of the will, which merely overcomes fear without doing away with it. Emotions are creative, vital, new, and therefore cannot be made into a habit however much the will tries to dominate and control them. It is the mind, the will, with its attachments, desires, fears, that creates conflict between itself and emotion. Love is not the cause of misery; it is the fears, desires, habits of the mind that create pain, the agony of jealousy, disillusionment. Having created conflict and suffering, the mind with its will for satisfaction finds reasons, excuses, escapes, which are called by various names - detachment, impersonal love, and so on. We must understand the whole process of the habit-forming mechanism, and not ask which discipline, pattern or ideal is best. If discipline is coordination, then it is not to be realized through enforcement, through any system. The individual must comprehend his own profound complexity and not merely look to a pattern for fulfilment. Do not practise discipline, follow patterns and mere ideals, but be aware of the process of forming habits. Be conscious of the old grooves along which the mind has run and also of the desire to create new ones. Seriously experiment with this; perhaps there will be greater confusion and suffering, for discipline, moral laws, have merely acted to hold down the hidden desires and purposes. When you are aware integrally, with your whole being, of this confusion and suffering, without any hope of escape, then there will arise spontaneously that which is real. But you must love, be enthused by that very confusion and suffering. You must love with your own heart, not with another's. If you begin to experiment with yourself, you will see a curious transformation taking place. In the moment of highest confusion there is clarity; in the moment of greatest fear there is love. You must come to it spontaneously, without the exertion of will. I suggest seriously that you experiment with what I have been saying and then you will begin to see in what manner habit destroys creative perception. But it is not a thing to be wished for and cultivated. There cannot be a groping after it. August 6, 1938 OMMEN 3RD PUBLIC TALK 8TH AUGUST, 1938 I have been trying to explain what is the right inward condition in which one can truly be oneself; that so long as the habit-forming mechanism exists one cannot truly be oneself, even if it is considered good. All habit must prevent clarity of perception and must conceal one's own integrity. This mechanism has been developed as a means of escape, a process of concealment, of covering up one's own confusion and uncertainties; it has been developed to cover up the futility of one's own actions and the routine of work, of occupation; or to escape from emptiness, sorrow, disappointment, and so on. We are trying to escape, run away from ignorance and fear, through forming habits that will counteract them, that will resist them - habits of ideals and morality. When there is discontentment, sorrow, the intellect mechanically comes forward with solutions, explanations, tentative suggestions, which gradually crystallize and become habits of thought. Thus suffering and doubt are covered over. So fear is the root of this habit-forming mechanism. We must understand its process. By understanding I do not mean the mere intellectual grasp of it, but the becoming aware of it as an actual process that is taking place, not superficially, but as something that is happening every day of one's life. Understanding is a process of self-revelation, of being aware not merely objectively, mechanically, but as a part of our very existence. To understand this mechanism of escape through habit, we must first find out the concealed motive - the motive that drives us to certain actions, which brings in its wake what we call experience. As long as we do not understand the motive power of this mechanism that creates escape, merely to consider the escapes is of little value. Experience is a process of accumulation and denudation, of revelation and a strengthening of old habits, a breaking down and building up of that which we call the will. Experience either strengthens the will or at moments destroys it; either builds up purposive desires, or breaks those desires we have stored up, only to create new ones. In this process of experiencing, living, there is the gradual formation of will. Now there is no divine will, but only the plain, ordinary will of desire: the will to succeed, to be satisfied, to be. This will is a resistance, and it is the fruit of fear which guides, chooses, justifies, disciplines. This will is not divine. It is not in conflict with the so-called divine will, but because of its very existence it is a source of sorrow and conflict, for it is the will of fear. There cannot be conflict between light and darkness; where the one is, the other is not. However much we may like to clothe this will with divinity, with high-sounding principles and names, will in its essence is the result of fear, of desire. Some are aware of this will of fear, with all its permutations and combinations. Perhaps some realize this will as fear and attempt to break it down by pursuing it along its many expressions, thus only creating another form of will, breaking down one resistance only to create another. So before we begin to inquire into the ways and means of breaking down fear through discipline, through forming new habits, and so on, we must first understand the motive power that lies behind the will. I have explained what I mean by understanding. This understanding is not an intellectual, analytical process. It is not of the drawing room or of the specialist, but has to be understood in everyday actions, in our daily relationships. That is, the process of living will reveal to us, if we are awake at all, the functioning of this will, of this habit, the vicious circle of creating one resistance after another, which we can call by different names -ideals, love, God, truth, and so forth. The motive power behind the will is fear, and when we begin to realize this, the mechanism of habit intervenes, offering new escapes, new hopes, new gods. Now it is at this precise moment, when the mind begins to interfere with the realization of fear, that there must be great awareness not to be drawn off, not to be distracted by the offerings of the intellect, for the mind is subtle and cunning. When there is only fear without any hope of escape, in its darkest moments, in the utter solitude of fear, there comes from within itself, as it were, the light which shall dispel it. Whatever attempts we make superficially, intellectually, to destroy fear through various forms of discipline, behaviour patterns, only create other forms of resistances; and it is in this habit that we are caught. When you ask how to get rid of fear, how to break down habits, you are really approaching it from outside, intellectually, and so your question has no significance. You cannot dissolve fear through will, for will is the child of fear; nor can it be destroyed through "love", for if love is used for the purposes of destruction it is no longer love but another name for will. Questioner: please, what is samadhi? Those who have reached it maintain that it is a true realization. Is it not, on the contrary, only a kind of suicide, the final result of an artificial way? Is there not an absolute lack of all creative activity? You point out the necessity of being oneself, whereas this is a mere killing of oneself, is it not? Krishnamurti: Any process that leads to limitation, to resistance, to cutting oneself off, as it were, in an intellectual or an ideal state, is destructive of creative living. Surely this is obvious. That is, if one has an ideal of love - and all ideals must be intellectual and therefore mechanical - and one tries to practise it, make love into a habit, one reaches certainly a definite state. But it is not that of love, it is only a state of an intellectual achievement. This pursuit of the ideal is attempted by all peoples; the Hindus do it in their way, and the Christians and other religious bodies also do it. Fear creates the ideal, the pattern, the principle, for the mind is pursuing satisfaction. When this satisfaction is threatened the mind escapes to the ideal. Fear, having created the pattern, moulds thought and desire, gradually destroying spontaneity, the unknown, the creative. Questioner: The greatest fear I have is that the life of another, or my own, should be spoilt. Krishnamurti: Is not each one, in his own way, spoiling his own life? Are we not destroying our own integrity? By our own desires, by our own conditionings, we are spoiling our own individual lives. Having control of another, and having the capacity to spoil our own life, we proceed to twist the life of another, whether it is a child, a dependent, or a neighbour. There are institutions, governmental and religious, to which we are willingly or unwillingly forced to conform. So to which kind of spoiling does the questioner refer? The deliberate perversion of one's own life, or the twisting of one's life by powerful institutions? Our natural reaction is to say that institutions, great and small, are corrupting our lives. One's reaction is to put the blame on the outer, on circumstances. To put it in a different way, here we are in a world of regimentation, of compulsion, of the clever technique of governments and organized religions to wear down the individual -and what is one to do? How is an individual to act? I wonder how many of you have seriously put this question to yourselves. Some may have realized the brutality of all this and joined societies or groups which promise to alter certain conditions. But in the process of alteration, the organization of the party, of the society, has grown to vast proportions and has become of the greatest importance. So the individual is again caught in its machinery. How are we to approach this question? From the outside or from within? There is no division as the outer and the inner, but merely changing the outer cannot fundamentally alter the inner. If you are aware that you are spoiling your own life, how can you look to an institution, or to an outward pattern to help you? If you deeply feel that violence in any form can only lead to violence, though you may not stop wars you will at least be a centre of sanity, as a doctor in the midst of disease. So in the same way, if you integrally perceive in what manner you are spoiling your life, that very perception begins to straighten out those things that are crooked. Such an action is not an escape. Questioner: Must we return to the past? Must I be aware of what I have been? Must I know my karma? Krishnamurti: By being aware, both the past and the present are revealed, which is not some mysterious process, but in trying to understand the present, the past fears and limitations are revealed. Karma is a Sanskrit word whose verb means to act. A philosophy of action has been created around the central idea "As you sow, so shall you reap", but we need not go into all that now. We see that any action born of the idea of reward or of punishment must be limiting, for such action springs from fear. Action brings either clarity or confusion, depending on one's conditioning. If one is brought up to worship success, either here or in the so-called spiritual sphere, there must be the pursuit of reward with its fears and hopes, which conditions all action, all living. Living becomes then a process of learning, of the constant accumulation of knowledge. Why do we lay up this so-called knowledge? Questioner: Are we not to have in ourselves some standard for action? Krishnamurti: Now we come to the fundamental question: Must one live by standards, whether outer or inner? We easily recognize the outer standard as one of compulsion and therefore preventing individual fulfilment. We look to an inner standard which each one has created through action and reaction, through judgment of values, desires, experiences, fears, and so on. What is this inner standard based upon, though it is constantly varying? Is it not based upon self-protective desire and its many fears? These desires and fears create a pattern of behaviour, of morality, and fear is the constant standard, assuming different forms under different conditions. There are those who take shelter in the intellectual formula "Life is one", and others in the love of God, which is also an intellectual formula, and they make these into patterns, principles, for their daily life. Morality of will is not moral but the expression of fear. August 8, 1938 OMMEN 4TH PUBLIC TALK 10TH AUGUST, 1938 Each one of us has a peculiar and particular problem of his own. Some are concerned with death and the fear of death and what is to happen in the hereafter; some are so lonely in their occupations that they are seeking a way to overcome this emptiness; some are sorrow-laden; some have the routine and boredom of work, and others the problem of love with its complexities. How can all these problems or the particular problem of each one be solved? Is there only one problem or are there many separate problems? Is each one to be solved separately, disconnected from the others, or are we to trace each problem and so come to the one problem? Is there, then, only one problem, and by tracing each difficulty, shall we come to the one problem through which, if we understand it, we can solve all others? There is only one fundamental problem, which expresses itself in many different ways. Each one of us is conscious of a particular difficulty and desires to grapple with that difficulty by itself. In solving one's peculiar difficulty, one may eventually come upon the central problem, but during the process of getting there the mind becomes weary and has acquired knowledge, formulas, standards, which really stand in the way of its understanding the one central problem. Some of us try to trace each problem to its source, and in the process of examination and analysis we are learning, we are accumulating so-called knowledge. This knowledge gradually becomes formulas, patterns. Experience has given us memories and values which guide and discipline and which must inevitably condition. Now it is these self-protective standards and memories, this stored up knowledge, these formulas, that prevent us from grasping the fundamental problem and solving it. If we are confronted with a vital experience and try to understand it with dead memories, values, we merely pervert it, absorbing it into the dead accumulation of the past. To solve this problem of living you must have a fresh, new mind. A new birth must take place. Life, love, reality are ever new, and a fresh mind and heart are needed to understand them. Love is ever new, but this freshness is spoilt by the mechanical intellect with its complexities, anxieties, jealousies, and so on. Are we made anew, is there a new birth each day? Or are we merely developing the capacity of resistance through will, through habit, through values? We are merely strengthening the will of resistance in different and subtle forms. So experience, instead of liberating us, giving us freedom to be reborn, to be made anew, is further conditioning us, further binding us to the dead accumulations of the past, to the stored up knowledge, which is really ignorance and fear. This perverts and destroys the liberating force of experience. This is the fundamental problem - how to be reborn or made anew. Now can you be made anew through formulas, through beliefs? Is it not absurd, the very idea that you can be made anew by patterns, ideals, standards? Can discipline, enforced or self-imposed, bring about a rebirth of the mind? This also is an impossibility, is it not? Through slogans, repetitive words, institutions, through the worship of another, can you be made anew? Perhaps momentarily, while you are listening to me, you feel the impossibility of being made anew through a method, through a person, and so on. Then what will make us anew? Do you perceive the vital necessity of being renewed, of being reborn? To understand life with all its complex problems, and reality, the unknown, there must be a constant death and a new birth. Otherwise you meet new problems, new experiences, with dead accumulations, which only bind, causing confusion and suffering. We are, then, confronted with these accumulated memories and formulas, beliefs and values, which are constantly acting as a shield, as a resistance. Now if we try to remove these resistances, these safeguards, merely through will, discipline, the mind is not being made anew. And yet we have the power, the only force which can liberate and which can make anew, and that is love - the love, not of the ideal, not of the formula, but the love of man and man. But we have hedged this love about with the morality of the will because there is the desire for satisfaction, and its fear. So love becomes destructive, binding, instead of liberating, renewing. We see this process of bondage and pain in our daily life. It is only in daily life, with its relationships and its conflicts, its fears and its ambitions, that you begin to perceive the renewing force of love. This love is not sentiment. Sentiment, after all, is merely the incapacity to feel deeply, integrally, and therefore to alter fundamentally. Questioner: I should like to know why I am sometimes too lazy to be fresh and new? Krishnamurti: You may be lazy because of the lack of proper diet, but possessing a healthy body, does that ensure a rebirth of the mind? You may be quiet, apparently lazy, and yet be extraordinarily alive. Questioner: To be made anew we must exert ourselves. Krishnamurti: You cannot be made anew with the dead weight of the past, and perceiving this you think you must make an effort to get rid of it. Being caught in confusion, you feel that to become disentangled from it you must discipline yourself, you must make an effort to overcome it, or otherwise confusion will increase and continue. This is what you mean, isn't it? Either you make an effort to keep still and observe in order to find ways and means of overcoming this confusion and conflict, or you make an effort to see its causes so that you may overcome them; or you are intellectually interested only to observe - but we need not be concerned with the so-called intellectuals. Either you accept the chaos, the struggle, or you try to overcome suffering; both involve effort. If you examine the motive for this exertion you will perceive that there is the desire not to suffer, the desire to escape, to be satisfied,to protect oneself, and so on. Effort is being made to overcome, to understand, to transform that which we are into that which we want to be or think we ought to be. Does not all such effort really produce a series of new habits instead of the old? The old habits, the old values have not given you the ideal, the satisfaction, and so you make an effort to establish new ideals, a new series of habits and values and satisfactions. Such effort is considered worthy and noble. You are making an effort to be or not to be something, according to a preconceived formula, pattern. So there cannot be a rebirth, but only a continuation of the old desire in a new form which soon creates confusion and sorrow. Again there is the exertion of the will to overcome this conflict and pain; one is again caught up in the vicious circle of effort, whether it is the effort to find the cause of suffering or the effort to overcome it. Effort is made to overcome fear through discovering its causes. Why do you want to discover the cause? Is it not because you do not want to suffer, you are afraid to suffer? So you hope that, through fear yielding to fear, all fear will be overcome. This is an impossibility. Now do you make an effort to discover the cause of joy? If you do, then joy ceases to be and only its memories and habits exist. Questioner: So by analyzing, fear should also disappear in the same way that pleasure does when examined. But why does it not? Krishnamurti: Joy is spontaneous, unsought and uninvited, and when the mind analyzes it to cultivate or to recapture it, then it is no longer joy. Whereas fear is not spontaneous except in sudden, unforeseen incidents, but it is sedulously cultivated by the mind in its desire for satisfaction, for certainty. So if you make an effort to get rid of fear by discovering its causes, and so on, you are merely covering up fear, for effort is of the will, which is resistance created by fear. If you integrally, with your whole being, understand this process, then in the midst of this flame of suffering, when there is no desire to escape, to overcome, out of this very confusion there arises a new comprehension spontaneously springing up out of the soil of fear itself. August 10, 1938 OMMEN 5TH PUBLIC TALK 12TH AUGUST, 1938 I have tried to explain that renewal, rebirth, must be spontaneous and not the result of effort. Before finding out if effort is moral or immoral, important or unimportant, we must first consider desire. In understanding desire, each one will discover for himself whether effort is moral or immoral with regard to the renewal, the rebirth of the mind. If one had no desire, there would be no effort. So we must know its process, the motive power behind effort, which is always desire; by whatever name you like to call it, righteousness, the good, the God in us, the higher self, and so on, nevertheless it is still desire. Now desire is always for something; it is always dependent and therefore always productive of fear. In being dependent there is always uncertainty which breeds fear. Desire cannot exist by itself, it must always be in relation to something. You can observe this in your daily, psychological reactions. Desire is always dependent, related to something. It is only love which is not dependent. There is the desire to be something, to become, to succeed, not to suffer, to find happiness, to love and to be loved, to find truth, reality, God. There is the positive desire to be something, and the negative desire not to be something. If we are attached there is agony, suffering, and from that we learn - what we call learn - that attachment gives pain. So we desire not to be attached, and cultivate that negative quality, detachment. Desire is prompting us to be this and not that. We are familiar with the positive and the negative desire, to be and not to be, to become and not to become. Now desire is not emotion; desire is the result of a mind that is ever seeking satisfaction, whose values are based on satisfaction. To be satisfied is the motive behind all desire. The mind is ever seeking satisfaction at any cost, and if it is thwarted in one direction it seeks to achieve its purpose in another. All effort, all directive power of the mind, is that it may be satisfied. So satisfaction becomes a mechanical habit of the mind. In moments of great emotion, of deep love, there is no dependency of desire, nor its search for satisfaction. To be satisfied, the mind develops its own technique of resistance and non-resistance, which is the will. And when the mind discovers that in the process of satisfaction there is suffering, then it begins to develop desirelessness, detachment. Thus there is the positive and the negative will ever exerting, ever seeking satisfaction. The desire to be satisfied creates will, which maintains itself by its own continual effort. And where will is, there must always follow fear - fear of not being satisfied of not achieving, of not becoming. Will and fear always go together. And again to overcome this fear, effort is made, and in this vicious circle of uncertainty the mind is caught. Will and fear go always hand in hand, and will maintains its continuity from satisfaction to satisfaction, through memory which gives to consciousness its continuity, as the "I". Will and effort, then, is merely the mechanism of the mind to be satisfied. Thus desire is wholly of the mind. Mind is the very essence of desire. Habit is established by constant search for satisfaction, and the sensation which the mind stimulates is not emotion. All effort then, springing from the will either to be satisfied or not to be satisfied, must ever be mechanical, habit-forming, and so cannot bring about rebirth, renewal. Even when the mind inquires into the cause of suffering, it is doing so primarily because it desires to escape, to do away with that which is not satisfactory and to gain that which is. Now this whole process in which the mind is caught up is the way of ignorance. Will, that is maintaining itself through effort to be satisfied, to be gratified, through various ways and methods -this will of satisfaction must of its own accord cease, for any effort to put an end to satisfaction is only another way of being satisfied. So this process of satisfaction, of gratification, is continually going on and all effort can only give strength to it. Perceiving that all effort is the desire for satisfaction and therefore of fear itself, how is one to bring this process to an end? Even this very desire for its cessation is born of the will to be satisfied. This very question of how to be free of desire is prompted by desire itself. If you feel integrally this whole process as ignorance, then you will not ask for a way to be free from desire, fear. Then you will not seek any method, however promising, however hopeful. There is no method, no system, no path to truth. When you understand the full inward significance of all methods, that very comprehension is beginning spontaneously to dissolve desire, fear, which is seeking satisfaction. Only in deep emotion is there no craving for satisfaction. Love is not dependent on satisfaction and habit. But the will of desire ever seeks to make of love a mechanical habit, or tries to control it through moral laws, through compulsion, and so on. Hence there is a constant battle by the mind, with its will of satisfaction, to control, dominate love; and the battle is almost always won by the mind, for love has no conflict within itself and so with another. Only when desire, with its will of fear, ceases of its own spontaneous accord - not through compulsion or the promise of reward - is there a renewal, a rebirth of one's whole being. Questioner: Can I trust or have faith in this love, or is this also a way of self-protection? Krishnamurti: Is not faith another refuge in which mind takes satisfaction and shelter? You may have faith in love, another in God, and so on. All such faith is an anchorage for the mind. Any refuge, any attachment, whatever its name, must be one of self-protection, satisfaction, and therefore the result of fear. One perceives appalling cruelty about one, utter chaos and barbarity, and one takes refuge in an ideal, in belief, or in some form of consolation. Thus one escapes into an illusion; but the conflict between the actual and the illusory must continue till either the unreal overcomes the actual or the actual breaks through all safeguards, all escapes, and begins to reveal its deep significance. Questioner: By merely insisting on individual fulfilment are you not putting aside the social question? How can the individual who is ever in relation with society, be the only important factor? Why do you emphasize the individual? Krishnamurti: Without the individual, society cannot exist; this social entity is not independent of the individual. Society is the relationship of one individual with another. Society is personal but it has become an independent machine with a life of its own which merely uses the individual. Society has become merely an institution which controls and dominates the individual through opinion, moral laws, vested interests, and so on. As institutions are never important but only the individual, we must consider his fulfilment, which cannot be brought about by mere change of environment, however drastic the change may be. The mere alteration of the superficial will not bring about the deep fulfilment of man, but only mechanical reactions. This division as the individual and the environment is mechanical and false; when fundamentally each one understands this to be so, then the individual will act integrally, not as an individual nor as merely the mechanical product of a society, but as an integrate human being. Questioner: This surely will take many centuries, will it not? So must we not make new social laws and conditions now? Krishnamurti: How are we going to bring about this change which we all desire? Either through force, or each individual beginning to awaken to the necessity of fundamental change. Either through enforcement, revolution, domination, or through the awakening of the individual to reality. If we want to produce a merely mechanical world of moral systems, laws, impositions, then violence may be sufficient, force of every description; but if we want peace and brotherhood, relationship based on love, then violence in any form cannot be the way. Through violence you cannot come to peace, to love, but only to further violence. Violence is complex and subtle, and until the individual is free from its obvious and its hidden domination, there cannot be peace nor lasting brotherhood. Questioner: Then must we let cruel people go on being cruel? Krishnamurti: To save humanity must you first destroy the human? Is that what you are asking me? Because you have certain ideologies, certain beliefs, must the individual be sacrificed to them? No, my friends, we do not want to help the world, we only want to impose on others a certain ideology, a certain faith, a certain belief. We want the tyranny of ideas to prevail, and not love. Each one is pursuing his own particular problem, or his own ideal of man, or his own conception of the State, or his belief in God, and so on. But if you who are listening to me fundamentally grasp what I am saying, then you will be concerned with the root problem, that of desire with its fears and efforts, which prevents individual fulfilment, rebirth. August 12, 1938 OMMEN 6TH PUBLIC TALK 13TH AUGUST, 1938 I have been trying to explain the habit-forming mechanism of fear, which destroys renewal, rebirth, in which alone there can be reality. The desire for satisfaction creates fear and habit. As I explained, desire and emotion are two different and distinct processes; desire being entirely of the mind, and emotion the integral expression of one's whole being. Desire, the process of the mind, is ever accompanied by fear, and emotion is devoid of fear. Desire must ever produce fear, and emotion has no fear at any time for it is of one's whole being. Emotion cannot conquer desire, for emotion is a state of fearlessness which can be experienced only when desire, with its fear and will of satisfaction, ceases. Emotion cannot overcome fear; for fear, as desire, is of the mind. Emotions are wholly of a different character, quality and dimension. Now what we are trying to do, the majority of us, is to overcome fear either by desire or by what we call "emotion" -which is really another form of desire. You cannot overcome fear by love. To overcome fear through another force which we call emotion, love, is not possible, for the desire to overcome fear is born of desire itself, of the mind itself, and is not of love. That is, fear is the result of desire, satisfaction, and the desire to overcome fear is of the nature of satisfaction itself. It is not possible to overcome fear by love, as most people find out for themselves. Mind, which is of desire, cannot destroy part of itself. This is what you try to do when you talk of "getting rid" of fear. When you ask, "How am I to get rid of fear, what am I to do about the various forms of fear?" you are merely wanting to know how to overcome one set of desires by another - which only perpetuates fear. For all desire creates fear. Desire breeds fear, and in trying to overcome one desire by another you are only yielding to fear. Desire can only recondition itself, reshape itself to a new pattern, but it will still be desire, giving birth to fear. We know that our present habits of thought and morality are based on individual security and gain and that thus we have created a society which is maintained through our own desire. Realizing this, there are those who try to create new habits, new virtues, in the hope of creating a new society based on non-gain, and so on. But desire still persists in different forms, and, until we realize the whole process of desire itself, the mere transformation of outside conditions, values, will have little significance. To change the form of desire from the old to the new is merely to recondition the mind, for it will still be of desire and thus it will always be a source of fear. So we must understand the process of the mind itself. Is not the mind, as we know it, an instrument developed for survival, for satisfaction, for self-protection, for resistance, and therefore the instrument of fear? Let us put aside the consideration that the mind is the instrument of God, the highest moral guide, and so on, for all such assumptions are merely traditional or are mere hopes. Mind is essentially an instrument of fear. From desire spring reason, conclusion, action - whose values and moralities are based on the will to survive, to be satisfied. Thus the mind, thought, breaks itself up into many parts, as the conscious and the unconscious, the high and the low, the real and the false, the good and the evil. That is, the mind, seeking satisfaction, has broken itself up into many parts, each part being in conflict with the other, but the central and essential pursuit of each part and of the whole is one of self.satisfaction, under different forms. So the mind is ever engendering its own fear. There are various forms of fear: fear of one's own future, fear of death, of life, of responsibility, and so forth. So the mind is ever trying to make itself secure through beliefs, hopes, illusions, knowledge, ideals, patterns. There is a constant struggle between the known and the unknown. The known is the past, the accumulated, habit, and the unknown is that which is the uncertain, the unconquerable, the spontaneous, the creative. The past is ever trying to overcome the future; habit proceeds to make the unknown into the habitual so that fear may cease. Thus there is the constant conflict of desire, and fear is ever present. The process is to absorb, to be certain, to be satisfied, and when this is not possible, the mind resorts to satisfying explanations, theories, beliefs. Thus death, the unknown, is made into the known; truth, the unconquerable, is made into the attainable. So the mind is a battlefield of its own desires, fears, values, and whatever effort it makes to destroy fear - that is, to destroy itself -is utterly vain. That part which desires to get rid of fear is ever seeking satisfaction; and that from which it craves to free itself has been in the past a means of satisfaction. Thus satisfaction is trying to get rid of that which has satisfied; fear is trying to overcome that which has been the instrument of fear. Desire, creating fear in its search for satisfaction, tries to conquer that fear, but desire itself is the cause of fear. Mere desire cannot destroy itself, nor fear overcome itself, and all effort of the mind to rid itself of them is born of desire. Thus the mind is caught in its own vicious circle of effort. We must understand deeply the inward nature of the mind itself, and this understanding is not born of a day; it needs immense awareness of our whole being. The mind, as I said, is a battlefield of various desires, values, hopes, and any effort on its part to free itself from them can only accentuate the conflict. Struggle exists so long as desire in any form continues; when one desire discriminates against another, one series of values against another, one ideal against another, this conflict must continue. This discriminative power of desire, choice, must cease, and this can happen only when one understands, inwardly feels the blind effort of the intellect. The deep observation of this process, without want, without judgment, without prejudice, and so without desire, is the beginning of that awareness which alone can free the mind of its own destructive fears, habits, illusions. But with the majority of us the difficulty is to pierce through those forms of emotion which are really the stimulations of desire, fear, for such emotions are destructive of love. They prevent integral awareness. Questioner: Are desire and interest, as we know them now, the same? Krishnamurti: If interest is merely the result of desire, to gain, to be satisfied, to succeed, then interest is the same as desire and therefore destructive of creative life. Questioner: How can I attain the quality of desirelessness without having the desire to attain it? Krishnamurti: Sir, this is exactly what I have been talking about this morning. Why do you want to attain desirelessness? Is it not because you have found through experience that desire is painful, desire brings fear, desire creates conflict or a success that is cruel? So you crave to be in a state of desirelessness, which can be achieved, but it is of death, for it is merely the result of fear. You want to be free from all fear, and so you make desirelessness the ideal, the pattern to be pursued. But the motive behind that ideal is still desire and so still of fear. Questioner: Is mind life itself? Because one cannot divide up life as mind and emotion? Krishnamurti: As I have explained, the mind has merely become an instrument of self-protection of various forms, and it has divided itself into emotion and thought - not that life has divided it nor that emotions have separated themselves from the mind, but the mind, through its own desires, has broken up itself into different parts. The mind has discovered that by being desireless it will be less prone to suffering. It has learnt through experience, through knowledge, that desirelessness might bring the ultimate comfort, which it hopes is truth, God, and so on. So it makes an effort to be without desire and therefore divides itself into different parts. Questioner: Is it possible to be without desire when one has a body? Krishnamurti: What do you say, sir? This is a problem that you have to face, that we all have to face. Mind, as I said, is ever seeking satisfaction through various forms. Necessity has thus become a means of gratification. This expresses itself in many ways - greed, power, position, and so forth. Can one not exist in this world without desire? You will find this out in your daily life. Do not separate needs from desire, which would be a false approach to the understanding of desire. When needs are glorified as a means for self-importance, then desire starts the complex process of ignorance. If you merely emphasize needs, and make a principle of it, you are again approaching the question of desire from a most unintelligent point of view, but if you begin to consider the process of desire itself, which breeds fear and ignorance, then needs will have their significant value. Questioner: Please give us your views or anything you care to say on the subject of how to bring up children. Questioner: It is not the child that is the problem; we are the problem. Krishnamurti: Are you saying that we must first resolve our own problems and then we shall be able to deal with the child? Is this not a very one sided conception? Is not child education a very complex problem? You want to help the child to grow to its own fullest integral capacity, but as there are not adequate teachers and schools for this purpose, education becomes a problem. You as a parent may have certain definite ideas that will help the child to be intelligently critical and to be spontaneously himself at all times, but unfortunately at school, nationalism, race hatred, leadership, tradition, example, and so on, are inculcated in the child, thus counteracting all that you may be doing at home. So either you have to start a school of your own where prejudices of race, country, examples, religious superstitions, beliefs, are not inculcated in the children - which means that an intelligent human being as a teacher is necessary; and one is rarely found. Or you must send the child to the schools that already exist, hoping for the best, and counteracting at home all the stupid and pernicious things he learns at school, by helping him to be intelligent and critical. But generally you have not the time to do this, or you have too much money, so you employ nurses to look after your children. It is a complex problem which each parent must deal with according to his capacity, but unfortunately this is paralysed by his own fears, superstitions, beliefs. Questioner: At least we can give the child a right environment at home. Krishnamurti: Even that is not enough, is it? For the pressure of opinion is very great. A child feels out of it if he does not put on some kind of uniform or carry a wooden gun when the majority of them are doing it. There is the demand of the so-called nation whose government, with its colossal power, forces the individual to a certain pattern, to carry arms, to kill, to die. Then there is the other institution, organized religion, which, through belief, dogma, and so on, equally tries to destroy the individual. Thus the individual is being continually thwarted of his fulfilment. This is a problem of our whole life, not to be solved through mere explanations and assertions. OJAI 1ST PUBLIC TALK 26TH MAY, 1940 The world is ever in pain, in confusion; it has ever this problem of struggle and sorrow. We become conscious of this conflict, this pain, when it affects us personally or when it is immediately about us, as now. The problems of war have existed before, but most of us have not been concerned with them as they were remote, and not affecting us personally and deeply; but now war is at our door and that seems to dominate the minds of most people. Now I am not going to answer the questions that must inevitably arise when one is immediately concerned with the problems of war, what attitude and action one should take with regard to it, and so on. But perhaps we shall talk over together a much deeper problem, for war is only an outward manifestation of inward confusion and struggle of hate and antagonism. The problem that we should discuss, which is ever present, is that of the individual and his relationship with another, which is society. If we can understand this complex problem then perhaps we shall be able to avoid the many causes that ultimately lead to war. War is a symptom, however brutal and diseased, and to deal with the outer manifestation without regard to the deeper causes of it, is futile and purposeless; in changing fundamentally the causes, perhaps we can bring about a peace that is not destroyed by outer circumstances. Most of us are apt to think that through legislation, through mere organization or through leadership, the problems of war and peace and other human problems can be solved. As we do not want to be responsible, individually, for this inner and outer turmoil in our lives, we look to authorities, groups and mass action. Through these outward methods one may have temporary peace, but one can have that abiding, lasting peace only when the individual understands himself and his relationship with another, which makes society. Peace is within and not without; there can only be peace and happiness in the world when the individual - who is the world - sets about definitely to alter the causes within himself which produce confusion, sorrow, hate, and so on. I want to deal with these causes and how to change them, deeply and lastingly. The world about us is in constant flux, constant change; there is incessant sorrow and pain. Amidst this mutation and conflict can there be lasting peace and happiness, independent of all circumstances? This peace and happiness can be discovered, hewn out of whatever circumstances the individual finds himself in. During these talks, I shall try to explain how to experiment with ourselves and thus free thought from its self-imposed limitations. But each one must experiment and live strenuously and not merely live on superficial action and phrases. This earnest experiment must begin with ourselves, with each one of us, and it is vain merely to alter the outward conditions without deep, inward change. For what the individual is, society is; what his relationship is with another is the social structure of society. We cannot create a peaceful, intelligent society if the individual is intolerant, brutal, and competitive. If the individual lacks kindliness, affection, thoughtfulness, in his relationship with another he must inevitably produce conflict, antagonism, and confusion. Society is the extension of the individual; society is the projection of ourselves. Until we grasp this and understand ourselves profoundly and alter ourselves radically, the mere change of the outer will not create peace in the world, nor bring to it that tranquillity that is necessary for happy social relationship. So let us not think of only altering the environment; this will and must take place if our whole attention is directed to the transformation of the individual, of ourselves, and our relationship with another. How can we have brotherhood in the world if we are intolerant, if we hate, if we are greedy? Surely this is obvious, isn't it? If each of us is driven by a consuming ambition, striving for success, seeking happiness in things, surely we must create a society, that is chaotic, ruthless, and destructive. If all of us here understand and agree deeply on this point, that the world is ourselves and what we are the world is, then we can proceed to think how to bring about the necessary change in ourselves. So long as we do not agree on this fundamental thing, but merely look to the environment for our peace and happiness, it assumes that immense importance which it has not, for we have created the environment, and without radical change in ourselves, it becomes an intolerable prison. We cling to the environment, hoping to find security and self-identified continuity in it, and thus resist all change of thought and values. But life is in continual flux and so there is constant conflict between desire which must ever become static and that reality which has no abode. Man is the measure of all things, and if his vision is perverted, then what he thinks and creates must inevitably lead to disaster and sorrow. Out of what he thinks and feels, the individual builds the society. I personally feel that the world is myself, that what I do creates either peace or sorrow in the world that is myself, and as long as I do not understand myself, I cannot bring peace to the world; so my immediate concern is myself, not selfishly, not merely to alter myself in order to gain greater happiness, greater sensations, greater successes, for, as long as I do not understand myself, I must live in pain and sorrow and cannot discover an enduring peace and happiness. To understand ourselves, we must first be interested in the discovery of ourselves, we must become alert about our own process of thought and feeling. With what are our thoughts and feelings mostly concerned? They are concerned with things, with people, and with ideas. These are the fundamental things in which we are interested-things, people, ideas. Now why is it that things have assumed such an immense importance in our lives? Why is it that things, property, houses, clothes, and so on, take such a dominant place in our lives? Is it because we merely need them, or is it that we depend upon them for our psychological happiness? We all need clothes, food, and shelter. This is obvious. But why is it that they have assumed such tremendous importance, significance? Things assume such disproportionate value and significance because we psychologically depend on them for our well being. They feed our vanity; they give us social prestige; they give us the means for procuring power. We use them in order to achieve purposes other than what they in themselves signify. We need food, clothes, shelter, which is natural and not perverting, but when we depend upon things for our gratification, when things become psychological necessities, they assume an altogether disproportionate value and importance, and hence the struggle and conflict to possess, and the various means to hold those things upon which we depend. Ask yourself this question: Am I dependent on things for my psychological happiness, satisfaction? If you earnestly seek to answer this apparently simple question you will discover the complex process of your thought and feeling. If things are a physical necessity, then you put an intelligent limitation on them, then they do not assume that overwhelming importance which they have when they become a psychological necessity. In this way you begin to understand the nature of sensation and gratification; for the mind that would understand truth must be free of such bondages. To free the mind from sensation and satisfaction, you must begin with those sensations with which you are familiar, and there lay the right foundation for understanding. Sensation has its place, and by comprehending it, it does not assume the stupid distortion which it has now. Many think that if the things of the world were well-organized so that all have enough of them, then it will be a happy and peaceful world, but I am afraid this will not be so if individually we have not understood their true significance. We depend on things because inwardly we are poor and we cover up that poverty of being with things, and these outward accumulations, these superficial possessions, become so vitally important that for them we are willing to lie, cheat, battle, and destroy each other. For things are a means to power, to self-glory. Without understanding the nature of this inward poverty of being, mere change of organization for fair distribution of things, however necessary, will create other ways and means of gaining power and self-glory. Most of us are concerned with things and to understand our right relationship to them requires intelligence. It is not asceticism nor acquisitiveness, it is not renunciation nor accumulation, but a free, intelligent awareness of needs without the clawing dependence upon things. When you understand this there is not the sorrow of giving up nor the pain of competitive struggle. Is one capable of critically examining and understanding the difference between one's needs and the psychological dependence on things? You are not going to answer this question within this hour. You will answer it only if you are persistently earnest, if your purpose is unwavering and clear. Surely we can begin to discover what is our relationship to things. It is based on greed, is it not? But when does need become greed? Is it not greed when thought, perceiving its own emptiness, its own worthlessness, proceeds to invest things with an importance greater than their own intrinsic worth and thereby create a dependence on them? This dependence may produce a sort of social cohesion but in it there is always conflict, pain, disintegration. We must make our thought process clear, and we can do this if in our daily life we become aware of this greed with its appalling results. This awareness of need and greed will help to lay the right foundation to our thinking. Greed in one form or another is ever the cause of antagonism, ruthless national hatred, and subtle brutalities. If we do not understand and grapple with greed, how can we understand, then, reality which transcends all these forms of struggle and sorrow? We must begin with ourselves, with our relationship to things and to people. I took things first because most of us are concerned with them. To us they are of tremendous importance. Wars are about things and our social and moral values are based on them. Without understanding the complex process of greed we shall not understand reality. Questioner: We are in imminent danger of being involved in the war. Why not give us some concrete suggestions of how to fight against it? Krishnamurti: There is really only one war, the war within ourselves, which produces external wars. I am only concerned with the war that is within ourselves. If we can understand and transcend intelligently that war within us, then perhaps there will be a peace in the world. I say perhaps, because there can be peace in the world only when each one of us is integrally peaceful. One can have this integrated peace within oneself if one is earnest and intelligently aware. The conflict that creates this hate is within yourself, and that is your first problem. If you are in the process of solving it, you will know what that tranquillity is, but merely to have suggestions or instructions given by another, what you should do under this or that circumstance, does not bring about peace. Great intelligence and deep understanding, not mere assertions, not blind acceptance of any theory, but continual awareness, strenuous questioning with delicacy and care, will create within us abiding peace. So our first task is with ourselves, for the world is ourselves in extension. We try to alter the circumference without fundamentally altering the centre; we are concerned with the periphery without understanding the core. When there is peace at the centre then there is a possibility of it in the world. Questioner: Would you please explain more fully in what sense you use the word "sensation". Krishnamurti: The process of living is partly sensation; seeing, tasting, touching, thinking, and so on. If we seek pleasure through sensation or use sensation for increasing gratification, then thought becomes a slave of desire. There is a sort of psychological satisfaction in possessing and in being possessed. When the sensation of possession is satisfied, then thought seeks other types of sensation and pleasure, so desire is continually changing its object of gratification until reality is assumed to be a form of pleasure which is hoped to be permeate. The constant desire for greater and greater sensation must inevitably lead to pain and sorrow; one does not often realize this and one craves for an enduring satisfaction, a final security in an idea, person, or things. This craving for a finality is the result of a series of satisfactions and disappointments but the desire for permanency is still a form of sensation and gratification. If each one of us can understand the process of sensation and pleasure with regard, let us say, to things, then we shall begin to be aware when needs become the means of greater satisfaction, and the pursuit of this greater satisfaction, we shall perceive, is greed. This intelligent perception or awareness places a natural limit to sensation, without the conflict of control. So without deeply and fully understanding the process of sensation and outgoing desires, if we try to seek reality, peace, happiness, then what we may find, though we may call it the eternal and so on, will only be the result of pleasure and craving and therefore not real. Questioner: What is the wisest step to take to understand oneself most unselfishly? Krishnamurti: Do you think there are two ways of understanding oneself, selfishly and unselfishly? You just understand yourself, not selfishly or unselfishly. If you try to understand yourself selfishly, you don't understand yourself at all, because your being is of the self. If you say to yourself, I must unselfishly understand myself, you are presupposing a condition; you are establishing a concept which may be utterly false. So, to understand yourself, you must see yourself as you are, not biased by the selfish or the unselfish thought. To understand yourself you must create a mirror that reflects accurately what you are. We do not like to create for ourselves such a faculty that reflects purely, without bias, for we are concerned with judgment and alteration. Alteration depends on the background in which we have been brought up. If we are religious persons we will change ourselves according to our religious concepts and dogmas. If we think in social terms we will alter ourselves according to social morality. But to understand ourselves clearly and fully, we must perceive ourselves as we are, without prejudice, without condemnation. To perceive so clearly, without bias, requires constant alertness, a peculiar, alert passivity that needs patience and care. But this is difficult, as most of us are carried away by our sensations and desires; we want to keep, store up, that which is pleasant in us and reject that which is unpleasant. The desire to hold on and the desire to deny is not conducive to the understanding of yourself, but when you see, yourself clearly, without any distortion, then you begin to find out why distortion has taken place. Then you begin to discover the cause, and that, again, requires keen alertness, serious purpose. In the process of understanding yourself, mind must not be burdened with craving, however subtle, for a result. If you are seeking a result, then you are not concerned with the process of understanding yourself; you are after gain, achievement, success, which has its own sorrow and reward. To understand yourself, you must have a mind-heart that is clear, without fear, without the entanglements of hope. Questioner: How can one alter oneself without creating resistance? Krishnamurti: In the very idea of altering oneself there is implied a preconceived pattern which prevents critical understanding. If you have a preconception of what you want to be, of what you should be, then surely your awareness of what you are is not critical, as you are then only concerned with conforming or with denying. We want to be this or that, and hence we are incapable of real critical examination of what we are, and therefore when we alter in relationship with what we want to be, we are bound to create resistances and so fundamental change does not take place at all. Instead of being concerned with the change that must take place in ourselves, let us see if we have preconceived ideas of what we should be. As we have them our attention should be turned to the inquiry of how and why they have come into being. If we seriously inquire, we shall find that fear creates various patterns, preconceived ideas of ourselves and what we should be. Without these preconceptions, what are you? And so, having concepts and images of what you should be, you are striving after them, which only distorts your critical comprehension of yourself, thus building up resistances. But if you are capable of looking at yourself as you are, then there is a possibility of radical change which is not brought about through comparison. All comparative change is a change only in resistance. Questioner: What about a school for children? This is a present need. Krishnamurti: This is not only a present need but a need of all times. It becomes important and immediate when we have our own children and circumstances are critical. Circumstances are ever critical to the thoughtful. If the parents, the guardians, are themselves in confusion, how can they establish schools in which children shall be brought up without confusion, without hate and ignorance? Surely this again is the same old problem, is it not, that you must begin with yourself, and because of your interest, you create or help to create schools in which there may grow up a generation which is not bound by fear and hate. May 26, 1940 OJAI 2ND PUBLIC TALK 2ND JUNE, 1940 To those who have come here today for the first time I shall briefly explain what we talked about last Sunday. Those of you who are earnestly following these talks should not become impatient, for we are trying to paint in words as complete a picture of life as possible. We must understand the whole picture, the complete attitude towards life, and not merely a part of it. I was saying last week that there cannot be peace or happiness in the world unless we as individuals cultivate that wisdom which brings forth tranquillity. There are many who think that without considering their own inward nature, their own clarity of purpose, their own creative understanding, by somewhat altering the outer conditions they can bring about peace in the world. That is, they hope to have brotherhood in the world though inwardly they are racked with hatred, envy, ambition, and so on. That this peace cannot be unless the individual, who is the world, brings about a radical change within himself, is pretty obvious to those who think deeply. We see chaos about us, and extraordinary brutality after centuries of preaching of kindliness, brotherhood, love; we are easily caught up in this whirlpool of hatred and antagonism, and we think that by altering the outward symptoms we shall have human unity. Peace is not a thing to be brought from the outside, it can only come from within; this requires great earnestness and concentration, not on some single purpose, but on the understanding of the complex problem of living. I took greed as one of the principal causes of conflict in ourselves and so in the world, greed, with its fear, with its craving for power and domination, social as well as intellectual and emotional. We tried to differentiate between need and greed. We need food, clothes, and shelter, but that need becomes greed, a driving psychological force in our lives when we, through craving for power, social prestige, and so on, give to things disproportionate value. Until we dissolve this fundamental cause of conflict or clash in our consciousness, mere search for peace is vain. Though through legislation we may have superficial order, the craving for power, success, and so on, will constantly disturb the cement that holds society together and destroy this social order. To bring about peace within ourselves and so within society, this central clash in consciousness caused by craving must be understood. To understand there must be action. There are those who see that the conflict in the world is caused by greed, by individual assertion for power and domination, through property, and so they propose that individuals shall not hold the means of acquiring power; they propose to bring this about through revolution, through state control of property - state being those few individuals whose hands hold the reins of power. You cannot destroy greed through legislation. You may be able to destroy one form of greed through compulsion but it will take inevitably another form which will again create social chaos. Then there are those who think greed or craving can be destroyed through intellectual or emotional ideals, through religious dogmas and creeds; this again cannot be, for it is not to be overcome through imitation, service, or love. Self-forgetfulness is not a lasting remedy for the conflict of greed. Religions have offered compensation for greed but reality is not a compensation. The pursuit of compensation is to remove the cause of conflict which is greed, craving, to another level, to another plane, but the clash and sorrow are still there. Individuals are caught up in the desire to create social order or friendly human relationship between people through legislation, and to find reality which religions promise as a compensation for the giving up of greed. But, as I pointed out, greed is not to be destroyed through legislation or through compensation. To grapple anew with the problem of greed, we must be fully aware of the fallacy of mere social legislation against it and of the religious compensatory attitude that we have developed. If you are no longer seeking religious compensation for greed, or if you are not caught up in the false hope of legislation against it, then you will begin to understand a different process of dissolving this craving wholly but this requires strenuous earnestness without emotionalism, without the deceits of the cunning intellect. Every human being in the world needs food, clothes, and shelter, but why is it that this need has become such a complex, painful problem? Is it not because we use things for psychological purposes rather then for mere needs? Greed is the demand for gratification, pleasure, and we use needs as a means to achieve it and thereby give them far greater importance and worth than they have. So long as one uses things because one needs them, without being psychologically involved in them, there can be an intelligent limitation to needs, not based on mere gratification. The psychological dependence on things manifests itself as social misery and conflict. Being poor inwardly, psychologically, spiritually, one thinks of enriching oneself through possessions, with ever increasing complex demands and problems. Without fundamentally solving the psychological poverty of being, mere social legislation or asceticism cannot solve the problem of greed, craving. How is this to be overcome, fundamentally, not merely in its outward manifestation, on the periphery? How is thought to be liberated from craving? We perceive the cause of greed - desire for satisfaction, gratification - but how is it to be dissolved? Through the exertion of will? Then what type of will? Will to overcome, the will to refrain, the will to renounce? The problem is, is it not, being greedy, avaricious, worldly, how to disentangle thought from greed? For thought is now the product of greed, and therefore transitory, and so cannot understand the eternal. That which can understand the immortal must also be immortal. The permanent can be understood only through the transitory. That is, thought born of greed is transient and whatever it creates must surely be transient, so long as the mind is held within the transient, within the circle of greed, it cannot transcend nor overcome itself. In its effort to overcome, it creates further resistances and gets more and more entangled in them. How is greed to be dissolved without creating further conflict if the product of conflict is ever within the realm of desire which is transitory? You may be able to overcome greed through the mere exertion of the will of denial, but that does not lead to understanding, to love, for such a will is the product of conflict and therefore cannot free itself from greed. We recognize that we are greedy. There is satisfaction in possession. It fills one's being, expands it. Now why do you need to struggle against it? If you are satisfied with this expansion, then you have no conscious problem. Can satisfaction ever be complete, is it not ever in a state of constant flux, craving one gratification after another? Thus thought becomes entangled in its own net of ignorance and sorrow. We see we are caught up in greed and also we perceive, at least intellectually, the effect of greed; how then is thought to extricate itself from its own self-created cravings? Only through constant alertness, through the understanding of the process of greed itself. Understanding is not brought about through the mere exertion of a one-sided will but through that experimental approach which has that peculiar quality of wholeness. This experimental approach lies in the actions of our daily life; in becoming keenly aware of the process of craving and gratification there comes into being that integral approach to life, that concentration which is not the result of choice but which is completeness. If you are alert, you will observe keenly the process of craving; you will see that in this observation there is a desire for choice, a desire to rationalize, but this desire is still part of craving. You have to be sharply aware of the subtlety of craving and through experiment there comes into being the wholeness of understanding which alone radically frees thought from craving. If you are so aware, there is a different type of will or understanding which is not the will of conflict or of renunciation, but of wholeness, of completeness that is holy. This understanding is the approach to reality which is not the product of the will to achieve, the will of craving and conflict. Peace is of this wholeness, of this understanding. Questioner: Since it is as true that the individual is a product of society as that society is a product of the individual who composes it, and since the change in social organization affects large numbers of individuals, is it not as important to stress the need for changing society as it is to emphasize the need for changing individuals, and since the major causes of catastrophe in the world arise from malfunctioning social organization, is there not danger in over-emphasizing the need for the individuals to change themselves, even though the change is ultimately necessary? Krishnamurti: What is society? Is it not the relationship of one individual with another? If individuals in themselves are ignorant, cruel, ambitious, and so on, their society will reflect all that they are in themselves. The questioner seems to suggest that the conflicting relationship of individuals which is society, with its many organizations, should be changed. We all see the necessity, the importance of social change. Wars, starvation, ruthless pursuit of power, and so on, with these we are all familiar, and some earnestly desire to change these conditions. How are you going to change them? By destroying the many or the few who create the disharmony in the world? Who are the many or the few? You and I, aren't we? Each one is involved in it, because we are greedy, we are possessive, we crave for power. We want to bring order within society, but how are we to do it? Do you seriously think there are only a few who are responsible for this social disorganization, these wars and hatreds? How are you going to get rid of them? If you destroy them, you use the very means they have employed and so make of yourself also an instrument of hatred and brutality. Hate cannot be destroyed by hate, however much you may like to hide your hate under pleasant sounding words. Methods determine the ends. You cannot kill in order to have peace and order; to have peace you must create peace within yourself and thereby in your relationship with others, which is society. You say that more emphasis should be laid on changing the social organization. Superficial reforms can, perhaps, be made, but surely radical change of lasting peace can be brought about only when the individual himself changes. You may say that this will take a long time. Why are you concerned about time? In your eagerness you want immediate results, you are concerned with results and not with the ways and means; thus in your haste you become a plaything of empty promises. Do you think that the present human nature which has been the product of centuries of maltreatment, ignorance, fear, can be altered over night? A few individuals may be able to change themselves over night, but not a crystallized society. This does not mean a postponing, but the man who thinks clearly, directly, is not concerned with time. Social organization may be an independent mechanism but it has to be run by us. We have created it and we are responsible for it, and we can be independent of it only when we, as individuals, do not contribute to the general hate, greed, ambition, and so on. In our desire to change the world we always meet with opposition, groups are formed for and against, which only further engender antagonism, suspicion, and competition in conversion. Agreement is almost impossible, except when there is common hate or fear; all actions born of fear and hate must further increase fear and hate. Lasting order and peace can be brought about only when the individual voluntarily and intelligently consents to think without hate, greed, ambition, and so on. Only in this way can there be creative peace within you and therefore in your relationship with another, which is called society. This requires strenuous and directed attention, without emotionalism, but as most of us are lazy, we hope that through some miraculous happenings, social organization will be changed. Thus we yield to sentiment and not to clear thought. We consider self-assertion, aggressiveness as manly, for we have made of religion a thing of sentiment; we have denied critical, experimental thought in the most serious thing that matters, religion and reality, and then naturally we become brutal, destructive with regard to the things of this world. Questioner: How is emotion to be controlled? Krishnamurti: Let us understand this problem of control. What do we mean by control? What is involved in control? We see in our thinking process a dual force at work, the desire to hold, to grasp, and also the desire not to grasp, not to hold. Isn't that so? There is in thought that which is and also that which it wants to be; the pleasant, called the good, and the unpleasant, the evil. So there is continual conflict between these dual processes, the one trying to overcome the other, through discipline, assertion, denial, and so on. So in the idea of control there is always duality. Thought, having divided itself into two processes, that which is pleasurable, and that which is not pleasurable, creates conflict in itself, and it tries to overcome this conflict, through various means, ideals, denials, concentration, and so on. So the central point is not how to control, but why do we create and cling to this dual process. What makes one angry first and later discover the pain of anger which induces one to learn to control oneself? What makes one brutal, and then try to cultivate compassion? In becoming aware of the process of duality, we shall awaken that understanding, wholeness, completeness, which will eliminate the conflict of resistance. What makes our life, thought, so disjointed, so uncoordinated? Why have we in our thought process created this duality, not that there is not duality? At the precise moment of anger there is no reaction of its opposite we are merely angry. Then later on come all our reactions to it, depending on our previous conditioning, and according to this, we control ourselves, training ourselves not to he angry, and by exerting will, we throw up resistances against anger, which is not the dissolution of anger; we cover it up and thus duality still exists. Now why are we angry? For many reasons. It may be that our social or financial security is threatened, or it may be due to some physiological reason. Now without understanding fully the physiological and psychological reasons for anger, and thereby intelligently and wholly becoming aware of them, we are only concerned deeply with the idea of getting rid of anger. Merely to get rid of anger is comparatively easy, but this does not completely dissolve its causes; but if you are fully aware of the causes, physiological as well as psychological, aware without the desire to be free from anger, then in this fullness of understanding not only the effect, anger, but also the causes fade away, giving place to a quality that only experience can reveal. All overcoming is a form of ignorance and violence; only understanding can free thought from bondage. Questioner: Will you please explain more fully: "The world is the extension of the individual, you are the world." Krishnamurti: Through experimental approach one discovers that man is the measure of all things; or, accepting authority, there is another measure, beyond man, God or whatever you choose to call it. The world of the past is the world of today, of the "I" and the future "I" of tomorrow. The past is the world of our ancestors, the previous generations, with their ignorance, fears, and so on, which limit the present, the "I" of today and gives birth to the "I" of tomorrow, the future. Each one of us is this accumulated past, with which is incorporated the present with its reactions and experiences. Individuals are the result of varied forms of influence and limitation and the relationship of one individual with another creates the world - the world of values. The world is the social, moral, spiritual structure based on values created by us, isn't it? The social world, as well as the so-called spiritual world, is created by us individuals through our fears, hopes, cravings, and so on. We see the world of hate taking its harvest at the present. This world of hate has been created by our fathers and their forefathers and by us. Thus ignorance stretches indefinitely into the past. It has not come into being by itself. It is the outcome of human ignorance, a historical process, isn't it? We as individuals have co-operated with our ancestors, who, with their forefathers, set going this process of hate, fear, greed, and so on. Now, as individuals, we partake of this world of hate so long as we, individually, indulge in it. The world, then, is an extension of yourself. If you as an individual desire to destroy hate, then you as an individual must cease hating. To destroy hate, you must dissociate yourself from hate in all its gross and subtle forms, and so long as you are caught up in it you are part of that world of ignorance and fear. Then the world is an extension of yourself, yourself duplicated and multiplied. The world does not exist apart from the individual. It may exist as an idea, as a state, as a social organization, but to carry out that idea, to make that social or religious organization function, there must be the individual. His ignorance, his greed, his fear, maintain the structure of ignorance, greed, and hate. If the individual changes, can he affect the world, the world of hate, greed, and so on? First make sure, doubly sure, that you, the individual, do not hate. Those who hate have no time for thought; they are consumed with their own intense excitement and with its results. They won't listen to calm, deliberate thought; they are carried away by their own fear; and you cannot help these people, can you, unless you follow their method, which is to force them to listen, but such force is of no avail. Ignorance has its own sorrow. After all, you are listening to me because you are not immediately threatened, but if you were, probably you would not be; you would not be thoughtful. The world is an extension of yourself so long as you are thoughtless, caught up in ignorance, hate, greed, but when you are earnest, thoughtful and aware, there is not only a dissociation from those ugly causes which create pain and sorrow, but also in that understanding there is a completeness, a wholeness. June 2, 1940 OJAI 3RD PUBLIC TALK 9TH JUNE, 1940 I was trying to explain last week the difference between greed and need. If we don't understand the difference between them there will be a constant conflict of choice. There is a different approach to the problem of craving and need instead of the usual control, denial, and choice; it is to understand the process of greed, to become aware of craving. Psychologically, inwardly, being impoverished, we want to enrich ourselves through accumulations and possessions, and thereby give to things a disproportionate value. In being aware, there is a deep understanding of the causes of this psychological poverty, of this lack of creative enrichment, and so there is a freedom from greed and its conflicts. In this process of awareness, in this inward search to understand the dependence upon things for one's satisfactions, pleasures, you will perceive, if you will experiment, that there is a different kind of will, not the will of conflicting resistances, but the will of understanding which is whole, complete. To experiment one must become aware of craving, greed, not theoretically, but in our daily life of relationship and action. It is only when we are really inwardly free from greed, not merely in our outward relationship and action, that there can be peace and disinterested action. We have been trying to understand our craving for things, and now let us go into the question of our relationship with people, and through understanding this complex problem, the richness of life is revealed. Is not all existence a question of relationship? To be is to be related. In our relationship there is conflict, not only between individuals, but also between the individual and society. Society is, after all, the relationship of the individual with the many; it is the extension, the projection, of the individual. If the individual does not understand his relationship with regard to things or with people he is immediately concerned with, his actions will produce conflict, personal as well as social. There is conflict in relationship and also there is the desire to isolate oneself, to withdraw from a relationship that causes pain. This isolation takes the form of either accepting new and pleasant relationships instead of the old, or withdrawing oneself into the world of ideas. If life is a series of events that will ultimately produce an isolation of the individual, then relationship is a means towards that end. But one cannot withdraw, for all existence is a form of relationship. So until one understands and is free from the causes of conflict within oneself, wherever one is, whatever the circumstances are, there must always be conflict. The idea of progressive isolation which man in his conflict longs for, calling it reality, unity, love, and so on, is an escape from reality which is to be understood only in relationship. There is in relationship conflict, and at the same time thought is seeking to withdraw from that conflict. One finds many ways of escape, but the cause of conflict is still there. Why is there conflict between people? What is the reason of this conflict even among those who say they love each other? Now, is not all relationship a process of self-revelation? That is, in this process of relationship, you are being revealed to yourself, you are discovering yourself, all the conditions of your being, the ugly and the pleasant. If you are aware, relationship acts as a mirror, reflecting more and more the various states of your thoughts and feelings. If we deeply understand that relationship is a process of self-revelation, then it has a different significance. But we don't accept relationship to be a revealing process, for we are not willing to be shown what we are, and hence there is constant conflict. In relationship we are seeking gratification, pleasure, comfort, and if there is any deep opposition to it we try to change our relationship. So relationship instead of being a progressive action of constant awareness, tends to become a process of self-isolation. The way of desire leads to self-isolation and limitation. When we are seeking merely gratification in relationship, critical awareness becomes impossible, yet it is only in this alert awareness any adjustment or understanding is possible. Responsibility in relationship, then, is not based on satisfaction, but on understanding and love. Not finding satisfaction in human relationship we often try to establish it in the realm of theories, beliefs, concepts. Love, then becomes merely an emotion, a sensation, an ideal conception, and not a reality, to be understood in human relationship. Because in human relationship there is friction, pain, we try to idealize love and call it cosmic, universal, which is but an escape from reality. To love wholly without fear, without possessiveness, demands an intense awareness and understanding which can only be realized in human relationship when thought is freed from craving and possessiveness. Then only can there be the love of the whole. If we understand the cause of conflict and sorrow in our relationship, without fear, there comes into being a quality of completeness which is not mere expansiveness nor the aggregation of many virtues. We hope to love man through the love of God, but if we do not know how to love man, how can we love reality? To love man is to love reality. We find that to love another is so painful, so many complex problems are involved in it, that we think it is easier and more satisfying to love an ideal, which is an intellectual emotionalism, not love. We depend on sensation for the continuance of so-called love, and when that gratification is withheld we try to find it in another. So what most often we are seeking is satisfaction of desire in our human relationship. Without understanding craving, there cannot be completeness of love. This again requires constant and intense awareness. To understand this completeness, this wholeness, we must begin to be aware of desire as greed and possessiveness. Then we shall understand the complex nature of desire and thus there will not only be a freedom from greed but also completeness that transcends intellect and its resistances. If we are able to do this with regard to things, then perhaps we shall be able to grasp a much more complex form of craving, which exists in human relationship. We must begin not from the heights of aspiration, hope and vision, but with things and people with whom we are in daily contact. If we are incapable of deep understanding of things and of people, we shall not understand reality, for reality lies in the understanding of the environment, things, and people. This environment is the product of our relationship to things and people; if the result is based on craving and its gratification, as it is now, to escape from it and seek reality is to create other forms of gratification and illusion. Reality is not the product of craving; that which is created through craving is transient; that which is eternal can be understood only through the lasting. Questioner: Is it not sometimes very difficult to differentiate between natural human needs and the psychological desires for satisfaction? Krishnamurti: it is very difficult to differentiate. To do this, there must be clarity of perception. To be aware of the process of all outgoing desires, and in fully understanding them, natural human needs will intelligently be regulated, without undue emphasis. But you see, individually we are not interested in understanding the process of desire. We are not eager enough to find out if we can differentiate between human needs and psychological desires. One can discover this through critical awareness, through patient probing, but another's understanding of this problem is of little value to you; you will have to understand it for yourself. If you say that you will limit yourself to the minimum of things, you are not understanding the complex problem of desire; you are then merely interested in achieving certain results, which is to seek gratification on another level; but this does not solve the problem which desire creates. What we are trying to do here is to understand the process of desire, not to put a boundary to craving. In understanding craving there comes a natural limitation of things, not a predetermined limitation brought about by the exertion of will. it is craving that gives to things their disproportionate values. Those values are based on psychological demands. If one is psychologically poor, one seeks satisfaction in things; therefore, property, name, family, become urgent and important, resulting in social chaos. As long as one has not solved this conflict of greed, mere limitation of things cannot bring about either social order or that tranquillity of freedom from craving. Through social legislation, greed cannot be destroyed; you may limit its expression in certain directions but even those limitations are overcome if craving is still the motive for man's action. Compensations that are offered by religions for giving up worldly things are still forms of craving. To be free from craving, one must patiently, tactfully, without prejudice, understand its complex process. Questioner: last Sunday you said that if we could find out why we are angry instead of trying to control anger we would free ourselves from it. I find I am angry when my comfort, my opinions, my security, and so forth, are threatened; and why am I angry when I hear of injustice that concerns someone I don't know? Krishnamurti: We have all, I am sure, tried to subdue anger but somehow that does not seem to dissolve it. Is there a different approach to dissipate anger? As I said last Sunday anger may spring from physical or psychological causes. One is angry, perhaps, because one is thwarted, one's defensive reactions are being broken down, one's security which has been carefully built up is being threatened, and so on. We are all familiar with anger. How is one to understand and dissolve anger? If you consider that your beliefs, concepts, opinions, are of the greatest importance, then you are bound to react violently when questioned. Instead of clinging to beliefs, opinions, if you begin to question whether they are essential to one's comprehension of life, then through the understanding of its causes there is the cessation of anger. Thus one begins to dissolve one's own resistances which cause conflict and pain. This again requires earnestness. We are used to controlling ourselves for sociological or religious reasons or for convenience but to uproot anger requires deep awareness a constancy of intention. You say you are angry when you hear of injustice. Is it because you love humanity, because you are compassionate? Do compassion and anger dwell together? Can there be justice when there is anger, hatred? You are perhaps angry at the thought of general injustice, cruelty, but your anger does not alter injustice or cruelty; it can only do harm. To bring about order, you yourself have to be thoughtful, compassionate. Action born of hatred can only create further hatred. There can be no righteousness where there is anger. Righteousness and anger cannot dwell together. Anger under all circumstances is the lack of understanding and love. It is always cruel and ugly. What can you do if someone else acts unjustly, with hatred and prejudice? That act is not wiped away by your anger, by your hatred. You are really not concerned with injustice, if you were you would never be angry; you are angry because there is an emotional satisfaction in hatred and anger; you feel masterful through hating and being angry. If in our human relationship there is compassion and forgiveness, generosity and kindliness, how can there also be brutality and hatred? If we have no love, how can there be order and peace? We desire to reform another when we ourselves are in need of it most. It is not another that is cruel, unjust, but ourselves. To understand this we have to be aware constantly. The problem is ourselves, and not another. And I tell you that when you look at anger in yourself and are beginning to be aware of its causes and expressions, then in that understanding there is compassion, forgiveness. Questioner: In being completely dissociated from violence is it possible that my action can be dissociated? For example, if I am attacked, I kill for self-preservation as a part of violence. If I refuse to kill and let myself be killed, am I not still a part of violence? Is dissociation a matter of attitude rather than action? Krishnamurti: Questions about violence in all its various forms will be understood if we can grasp the central cause of hatred, of the desire to hurt, of vengeance, of fear, and so on. If we can understand this then we shall know, spontaneously, how to deal with those who hate us, who wish to do violence to us. Our whole attention should be directed not to what we should do with regard to violence aimed at us, but to understand the cause of our own fear, hate, arrogance, or partisanship. In understanding this, in our daily life, the problem created by another cease to have much significance. You will solve the outward problem of violence by understanding the central problem of craving, envy, through constant critical awareness of your thought, of your relationship with another. Questioner: To be fully aware, to be pliable, there must always be a great feeling of love. Not by effort can one feel love, nor become fully aware, so what should one do? Krishnamurti: Now what is the effort involved in understanding, for example, our psychological cravings and natural needs? To understand deeply that all psychological dependence whether on things or on people creates not only social but personal conflict and sorrow, to understand the complex causes of conflict and the desire to be free from it, requires not the mere will to be free, but constant awareness in our daily life. If that awareness is the outcome of the desire to achieve a certain result, then the effort to be aware only produces further resistance and conflict. Awareness comes into being when there is the interest to understand but interest cannot be created through mere will and control. If you give true value to things only in order not to have conflict, you are living in a state of illusion, for then you do not understand the process of craving which creates conflict and pain. June 9, 1940 OJAI 4TH PUBLIC TALK 16TH JUNE, 1940 In the last three talks I tried to explain the experimental approach to the problem of greed, an approach that is neither denial nor control but an understanding of the process of greed, which alone can bring lasting freedom from it. So long as one depends on things for one's psychological satisfaction and enrichment, greed will continue, creating social and individual conflict and disorder. Understanding alone will free us from greed and craving which have created such havoc in the world. We shall now consider the problem of relationship between individuals. If we understand the cause of friction between individuals and therefore with society, that understanding will help to bring about freedom from possessiveness. Relationship is now based on dependence, that is, one depends on another for one's psychological satisfaction, happiness and well-being. Generally we do not realize this but if we do, we pretend that we are not dependent on another or try to disengage ourselves artificially from dependence. Here again let us approach this problem experimentally. Now for most of us relationship with another is based on dependence, economic or psychological. This dependence creates fear, breeds in us possessiveness, results in friction, suspicion, frustration. Economic dependence on another can perhaps be eliminated through legislation and proper organization but I am referring especially to that psychological dependence on another which is the outcome of craving for personal satisfaction, happiness, and so on. One feels, in this possessive relationship, enriched, creative and active; one feels one's own little flame of being is increased by another and so in order not to lose this source of completeness, one fears the loss of the other and so possessive fears come into being with all their resulting problems. Thus in this relationship of psychological dependence, there must always be conscious or unconscious fear, suspicion, which often lies hidden in pleasant sounding words. The reaction of this fear leads one ever to search for security and enrichment through various channels, or to isolate oneself in ideas and ideals, or to seek substitutes for satisfaction. Though one is dependent on another, there is yet the desire to be inviolate, to be whole. The complex problem in relationship is how to love without dependence, without friction and conflict; how to conquer, the desire to isolate oneself, to withdraw from the cause of conflict. If we depend for our happiness on another, on society or on environment, they become essential to us; we cling to them and any alteration of these we violently oppose because we depend upon them for our psychological security and comfort. Though, intellectually, we may perceive that life is a continual process of flux, mutation, necessitating constant change, yet emotionally or sentimentally we cling to the established and comforting values; hence there is a constant battle between change and the desire for permanency. Is it possible to put an end to this conflict? Life cannot be without relationship, but we have made it so agonizing and hideous by basing it on personal and possessive love. Can one love and yet not possess? You will find the true answer not in escape, ideals, beliefs, but through the understanding of the causes of dependence and possessiveness. If one can deeply understand this problem of relationship between oneself and another then perhaps we shall understand and solve the problems of our relationship with society, for society is but the extension of ourselves. The environment which we call society is created by past generations; we accept it, as it helps us to maintain our greed, possessiveness, illusion. In this illusion there cannot be unity or peace. Mere economic unity brought about through compulsion and legislation cannot end war. As long as we do not understand individual relationship, we cannot have a peaceful society. Since our relationship is based on possessive love, we have to become aware, in ourselves, of its birth, its causes, its action. In becoming deeply aware of the process of possessiveness with its violence, fears, its reactions, there comes an understanding, that is whole, complete. This understanding alone frees thought from dependence and possessiveness. it is within oneself that harmony in relationship can be found, not in another, nor in environment. In relationship, the primary cause of friction is oneself, the self that is the centre of unified craving. If we can but realize that it is not how another acts that is of primary importance, but how each one of us acts and reacts and if that reaction and action can be fundamentally, deeply understood, then relationship will undergo a deep and radical change. in this relationship with another, there is not only the physical problem but also that of thought and feeling on all levels, and one can be harmonious with another only when one is harmonious integrally in oneself. In relationship the important thing to bear in mind is not the other but oneself, which does not mean that one must isolate oneself but understand deeply in oneself the cause of conflict and sorrow. So long as we depend on another for our psychological well-being, intellectually or emotionally, that dependence must inevitably create fear from which arises sorrow. To understand the complexity of relationship there must be thoughtful patience and earnestness. Relationship is a process of self-revelation in which one discovers the hidden causes of sorrow. This self-revelation is only possible in relationship. I am laying emphasis on relationship because in comprehending deeply its complexity we are creating understanding, an understanding that transcends reason and emotion. If we base our understanding merely on reason then in it there is isolation, pride, and lack of love, and if we base our understanding merely on emotion, then in it there is no depth, there is only a sentimentality which soon evaporates, and no love. From this understanding only can there be completeness of action. This understanding is impersonal and cannot be destroyed. It is no longer at the behest of time. If we cannot bring forth understanding from the everyday problems of greed and of our relationship, then to seek such understanding and love in other realms of consciousness is to live in ignorance and illusion. Without fully understanding the process of greed, merely to cultivate kindliness, generosity, is to perpetuate ignorance and cruelty; without integrally understanding relationship, merely to cultivate compassion, forgiveness, is to bring about self-isolation and to indulge in subtle forms of pride. In understanding craving fully, there is compassion, forgiveness. Cultivated virtues are not virtues. This understanding requires constant and alert awareness, a strenuousness that is pliable; mere control with its peculiar training has its dangers, as it is one-sided, incomplete, and therefore shallow. Interest brings its own natural, spontaneous concentration in which there is the flowering of understanding. This interest is awakened by observing, questioning the actions and reactions of everyday existence. To grasp the complex problem of life with its conflicts and sorrows one must bring about integral understanding. This can be done only when we deeply comprehend the process of craving which is now the central force in our life. Questioner: In speaking of self-revelation, do you mean revealing oneself to oneself or to others? Krishnamurti: One often does reveal oneself to others but what is important, to see yourself as you are or to reveal yourself to another? I have been trying to explain, that if we allow it, all relationship acts as a mirror in which to perceive clearly that which is crooked and that which is straight. It gives the necessary focus to see sharply, but as I explained, if we are blinded by prejudice, opinions, beliefs, we cannot, however poignant relationship is, see clearly, without bias. Then relationship is not a process of self-revelation. Our primary consideration is: What prevents us from perceiving truly? We are not able to perceive because our opinions about ourselves, our fears, ideals, beliefs, hopes, traditions, all these act as veils. Without understanding the causes of these perversions we try to alter or hold on to what is perceived and this creates further resistances and further sorrow. Our chief consideration should be, not the alteration or the acceptance of what is perceived, but to become aware of the many causes that bring about this perversion. Some may say that they have not the time to be aware, they are so occupied, and so on, but it is not a question of time but rather of interest. Then in whatever they are occupied with there is the beginning of awareness. To seek immediate results is to destroy the possibility of complete understanding. Questioner: You have used several times the word "training" in the past talks. As the idea of training with many of us is associated with control leading eventually to the possibility of rigidity and lifelessness, could you give a definition of this term? Is it to be understood in the sense of unflagging will, of alertness, adaptability and constant pliability? Krishnamurti: Do we control ourselves out of fear? Do we control in order not to be hurt, to gain certain results and rewards? Is control the outcome of the search for greater and more lasting satisfaction and power? If it is, then it must lead to rigidity and lifelessness. Mere self-control does ultimately result in the sterility of understanding and love. Those who have merely by the exertion of will brought about self-control, will know of its dire results. I am talking of understanding which transcends reason and emotion. In this understanding there is a natural and creative adaptability, an alert awareness and infinite pliability, but mere control does not create understanding. If we try to cultivate virtue, it is no longer virtue. Virtue is a by-product of understanding and love. Those who are greedy may train themselves not to be greedy through the mere exertion of will, but thereby they have not deeply understood the process of greed and so are not free from greed. They think by the aggregation of many virtues they will come to the whole. They seek to confine the whole vast expanse of life in virtues. To understand, there must be the clarity of purpose not established by another but which comes into being when one comprehends one's relationship to things and people. This experimental approach brings about that understanding which is not the result of mere control. If this inquiry is earnest and constant, then there will be a natural restraint without fear, without the will of expansive desires. This understanding is not partial but complete. Through constant awareness of the many obvious and subtle problems of greed there comes a definite and delicate pliability which, as I said, is a by-product of understanding and love. Questioner: How does one cultivate virtues? Krishnamurti: All cultivated virtues are no longer virtues. Understanding and love are of primary importance and virtues are of secondary importance. Duty, courage, charity, as virtues, are in the likeness of their own opposites and therefore, without understanding and love, they may be misused and become a source of grave danger. Take for example duty, as a virtue. This can be and is being brutally and tragically misused. Without understanding and love, virtues can become the instruments of barbarity and cruelty. Most of us have been conditioned by virtues, and as they are not of deep thought and understanding, those of us who are so limited are exploited by cunning and ambitious people. Without understanding the nature of greed, merely to cultivate its opposite does not free us from greed. What frees us from greed is to understand the process of craving and in doing this we will find that virtues naturally come into being. What is of primary importance then is understanding, in whose wake follows compassion. Questioner: What do you mean by self-reliance? Krishnamurti: Organized religions have not made us self-reliant for they have taught us to look for our salvation through another, through saviours, masters, deified personalities, through ceremonies, priests, and so on. Modern tendencies also encourage us to be psychologically non-self reliant, by insisting that collective action is of greater importance. Psychological regeneration cannot be brought about through the authority of tradition, group, or of another, however great; there cannot be self-reliance which alone can help us to understand reality, if we retain mass psychology. But there is a grave danger of this self-reliance turning into individualistic action, each for himself. Because the present social structure has been the result of this individualistic, aggressive action, we have its reaction in collectivism, the worship of the state. True collective and co-operative action can come into being only when psychologically the individual is self-reliant. As long as the individual is greedy, possessive in his relationship and depends for his psychological enrichment on beliefs, dogmas, and so forth, co-operative action, urged through economic necessity, only makes him more cunning, more subtle in his individualistic appetites for power and achievement. We think that self-expression is a form of creativeness; we have intense longing to express ourselves, and so self-expression has assumed a great importance. I am trying to explain some of the problems involved in self-reliance and we must understand fully, if we can, the underlying significance in all this. When we rely psychologically on another, on a group, or on a leader for our understanding, for our hope, what takes place in us? Does it not create fear? Or being afraid do we not depend on others for our well-being? So fear is engendered or continues in both cases. But where there is fear, conscious or unconscious, intelligent understanding of life becomes impossible. Fear can only breed fear and so ignorance continues. This fear cannot be understood and dissolved except through one's own strenuous awareness. If you think that understanding, love, can be given to you by another, then authority and belief become most important. Then dogma takes the place of self-reliant understanding. Where there is dogma there must be narrowness of mind and heart. The clash of dogma, belief, creates intolerance, cruelty. Self-reliance, in the deep psychological sense, is denied when you are pursuing compensatory religious or worldly promises and rewards. It is only when you are completely self-reliant, wholly independent of any saviour, master, is there serenity, wisdom, reality. Likewise when you merely rely for your social well-being on a particular group or organization, then you will become mere instruments in cunning and ambitious hands. This does not mean that social organizations should not exist, which would be absurd, but true co-operative social organizations of intelligent consent can exist only when there is deep, psychological self-reliance. We are the result of the past, and without the critical comprehension of it, if we merely express it, then such self-expression or action can only continue ignorance and conflict. The ideas which we now have partly came from others who thought them and partly arise through present action and reaction. They are the result of craving, fear, possessiveness, and greed. As we are concerned with self-expression, we must ask ourselves what it is that is expressing itself. If I am a Hindu, I have certain beliefs, dogmas, social restrictions, a certain heritage, the result of my father's and my forefathers' craving, acquisitiveness, fear, and success, to which I have added my own conditioned experiences and knowledge. If I try to express myself as originally and fully as possible, what am I expressing? surely, am I not repeating, perhaps with modification and variations, essentially the limited thoughts and feelings of the past which I consider to be myself? The expression of the self seems so vitally important to most of us. We are trying to express ourselves, according to space and time, and as we do not deeply understand what it is that is expressing itself, we are bound to create confusion, sorrow, antagonism, and competition. in other words, ignorance is expressing itself, creating further ignorance; and if thwarted in one of its expressions, we try to overcome that resistance through violence, anger, or other impetuous action. In its fullest scope and expression, the self, which is born of ignorance, must, when it acts from itself create its own bondages and sorrow. Without understanding the full implication of self-expression, self-reliance becomes merely the means to greater and greater expression of narrow individualistic and ignorant action. Until we begin to break down this vicious circle of ignorance which only creates further ignorance, self-reliance cannot bring about release from sorrow. Yet to understand this continuity of ignorance and sorrow, each one must become utterly self-reliant to be able to probe into craving, fear, tendencies, memories, and so on. Mere self-expression is not creativeness and to be truly creative, one must understand the process of the self and so be free from it. Through earnest awareness as to what it is that is expressing itself, we begin to understand the limited causes of the past which control the present and in this strenuous understanding there comes a freedom from the cause of ignorance. True self-reliance, not the self-reliance for the purpose of mere aggressive expression of the self, can come about only through understanding the process of craving, with its limiting values, fears, and hopes; then self-reliance has great significance, for through one's own strenuous awareness there is a wholeness, a completeness. June 16, 1940 OJAI 5TH PUBLIC TALK 23RD JUNE, 1940 During the last four Sundays we have been trying to understand what we mean by greed and some of the problems involved in relationship. We divided craving into greed, possessive love, and dependence on beliefs, but in fact, there is no such division; we did it to understand craving more fully. There is only a complex unity of craving and its artificial division is for convenience only. We said that craving expresses itself in three ways, through worldliness, through possessive love, and through the desire for personal immortality. Perhaps some of you have thought over it and have seen the significance of what I have been saying and have become aware of how it expresses itself in relationship. Of course, there are many problems involved in it, such, for instance, as earning a living. To earn a livelihood in a human and intelligent way seems almost impossible, as social organization is based on personal gain, but we cannot hope to bring about a complete change in the system until there is a complete change in our own consciousness. To bring about that necessary change, we, as individuals, have to abandon our interest in ourselves. For, as I tried to explain, the individual is the world; his activities, his thoughts, his affections and conflicts, produce the environment which is but his own reflection. As it seems almost impossible under existing conditions to earn a livelihood humanely and honestly, the primary thing is to understand the process of greed and thereby free thought from those psychological cravings which distort our lives. To transcend the conditions that limit thought and hold it in constant conflict, we must understand craving, expressed in our relationship with another, with society. I explained in what manner this is to be done, not through mere control, not through mere discipline or denial, but through constant awareness of the process of craving. This demands strenuous application, patience, and constant alertness. In becoming actively aware of the process of craving, you will perceive that craving as possessiveness of things and people, undergoes a fundamental change. Also, I tried to explain that the expression of greed has created a society in which great importance is placed on things, on property, on material and otherworldliness, which is partly the cause for separative conflicts, racial antagonisms, and wars. Also, we saw how craving expresses itself in relationship as sensation, gratification, possessiveness. Possessiveness cannot be love, it is the result of fear. Fear and sorrow permeate our being through our unawareness of the process of craving. Craving for pleasure and gratification necessitates the possessing of the other, thus creating and continuing fear and sorrow. Where there is fear there cannot be understanding, compassion. Until we solve this individual problem of relationship, we cannot solve our social problem, for society is but the extension of the individual, his thoughts and activities. So, craving expresses itself through worldliness and through possessive love. When thought is limited by greed, by that possessive desire which we call love, surely there must be sorrow and conflict; and in order to escape from this conflict and sorrow we invent various beliefs and hopes which we imagine will endure and so be satisfying, unaware that they are still the creation of craving and therefore transient. Our ideas, beliefs, hopes, are so deeply imbedded in us that they escape our critical observation. Yet, without the knowledge of their cause and origin there cannot be true understanding. If our ideas and beliefs spring from ignorance and fear, then our life and action must be limited and ever in conflict and sorrow. But ignorance is difficult to eradicate. What is the basis of our thought? What is the origin of the mind? Those of you who have experimented with greed will have become aware of its process and the various expressions of craving; also you will have become aware of the origin of possessive love. Now in the same way, perhaps we can discover for ourselves from what source the process of our daily thought begins. Mere control of the many expressions of thought will not reveal its true source. What is the basis, the root, of our thought process? It is important to discover this, is it not? If the root of a tree is diseased or decayed what value is there in trimming its branches? Likewise, should we not first discern the origin of our thinking before concerning ourselves with its varied expressions and alterations? In understanding truly the source, through deep awareness, our human thought will become free of illusion and fear. Each one has to discover this source for himself, and with vital awareness transform radically the process of thinking. Has not our thought its source in craving? Is not what we call the mind the result of craving? Through perception, contact, sensation, and reflection, thought divides itself into like and dislike, hate and affection, pain and pleasure, merit and demerit - the series of opposites, the process of conflict. It is this process which is the content of our consciousness, the unconscious as well as the conscious, and which we call the mind. Being caught up in this process and fearing uncertainty, cessation, death, each one craves after permanency and continuity. We seek to establish this continuity through property, name, family, race, and dubiously perceiving their insecurity, again we seek this continuity and permanency through beliefs and hopes, through the concepts of God and soul and immortality. Having accumulated various experiences, many memories, and achievements, we identify ourselves with them, but there is ever within us the gnawing of uncertainty and the apprehension of death, for everything decays, passes away, and is in a continual flux. So, some begin to justify to themselves their complete abandonment to the pleasures of this world, and their ruthless self-expansion; others believing in continuity, become watchful, anxious, and live their lives dreading a future punishment or hoping for a reward in the hereafter, perhaps in heaven or perhaps in another life on earth. There are various forms of subtle craving for immortality, reward, and success. Thought is deeply and actively concerned with the idea of continuity of itself in different forms, gross and subtle. Is this not our main preoccupation in life, the continuity of the self in possessions, in relationship, in ideas? We crave for certainty, but craving ever creates ignorance and illusion and establishes instruments of faith and authorities who will reward and punish. The pursuit of self is death. The basis of our thinking is craving, which creates the self, and thought expresses itself in worldliness, in possessive love, and in the belief of self-continuity. What happens to a mind that is occupied with itself and its expressions, consciously or unconsciously? It will limit itself and so give importance to itself. Thought, thus occupied, must engender confusion, conflict, sorrow. Being caught in its own net, it tries to escape into the future or into those activities that assure immediate forgetfulness, the so-called social service, worship of state or person, racial and social antagonism, and so on. Thus thought gets more and more entangled in the net of its own desires and escapes. As long as thought is preoccupied with its own personal importance and continuity, it is incapable of becoming aware of its own process. How are we to become aware? Alertly and disinterestedly observe the working of the mind, without immediate correction, without controlling, denying, or judging it. The present eagerness to judge, to correct, is not from understanding; it springs from craving, fear. There is a deep and fundamental transformation of the self when there is understanding of the process of craving. Understanding transcends mere reason or emotion. Mind-intellect is now the instrument of craving, with its rationalization and expansive outgoing desires; to rely solely on either for understanding and love is to continue in ignorance and suffering. Questioner: What do you mean by experimenting? Krishnamurti: If consciously or unconsciously we are merely seeking results, we are not experimenting. Experimentation with one's own thought and feeling becomes impossible if we are merely adjusting ourselves to a pattern, ancient or modern. We may think we are experimenting, but if our thought is influenced and limited, say by a belief, then experimentation is not possible and most of us are blind to our own limitations. True experimenting consists in understanding through our own alert watchfulness, awareness, the causes that condition thought. Why is thought conditioned? Being uncertain, fearful, it clings to certainties, definite results, and achievements, either those of someone whom it considers great or of its own assured memories. That is, thought moves from the known to the known, from one certainty to another, from one assurance to another, from one substitute to another. Reality is not the known. What is conceived cannot be the real, when the mind is the instrument of craving. Craving always breeds ignorance and sorrow follows. True experimenting consists not in trying to discover the unknown but rather in understanding the forces, the causes, that make thought cling to the known. in the understanding of this process, ever deeply, patiently, there comes a new element which has transcended mere reason and emotion. Questioner: What should my attitude be towards violence? Krishnamurti: Does violence cease through violence, hate through hate? If you hate me and I hate you in return, if you act violently towards me and I act likewise towards you, what is the result - more violence, more hatred, more bitterness, is it not? Is there any other consequence than this? Hate begets hate, ill will begets ill will. Very often in our relationship, individual or social, this spirit of retaliation breeds only more violence and more antagonism. The spirit of vengeance is rampant in the world. Can you have any other attitude towards violence? We feel powerful in being violent. To use a commercial phrase, there are larger and quicker dividends in hate. The individual has created the existing social structure because of hatred within him, because of his desire to retaliate and to act violently. The world about us is in this feverish condition of hate and violence; because of its cunning and purposive strength, unless we, ourselves, are free of hate, we are easily carried away by the brutal current. If you are free of it, then the question of what attitude one should have towards the many expressions of hate does not arise. If you were deeply aware of hate itself and not merely of its cunning expressions, you would see that hate only begets hate. If you have hatred within you, you will respond to the hate of another, and since the world is you, you are bound to react to its fears, ignorance, and greed. Surely, you are bound to hate, to act vengefully, if your thought is confined to the self. Greed and possessive love must breed ill will and if thought does not free itself from them, there must be the constant action of hate and violence. As I pointed out, our beliefs and hopes are the result of craving, and when doubt is cast on them, resentment and anger arise. In understanding the cause of hate, there comes into being forgiveness, kindliness. Love and understanding come through being constantly aware. Questioner: Is it not natural to love the Masters, knowing instinctively without analyzing it that there response to us vivifies our love because we are one? This is not an effort to expand, for love is life itself. Krishnamurti: There are two types of gurus, masters, or teachers: those with whom the pupil is directly in contact on this plane of existence, and those with whom the pupil is supposed to be in contact indirectly. The teacher with whom the pupil is in contact directly, physically, observes the pupil while helping and guiding him. This is exacting and difficult enough for the pupil. Now the "Masters" are not in direct, physical contact with the pupil except apparently with those who claim that they are intermediaries. in this relationship, which has its own rewards and anxieties, the mind can deceive itself limitlessly. Now, the questioner wants to know if our love for a Master does not vivify, our love? Why do you seek a Master to love when you don't know how to love human beings? Why do you claim unity with Masters, and not with human beings? To love an ideal, a Master, a God, a State, is easier, is it not? For they can be created in our image, according to our hopes, fears, illusions. It is more convenient, though perhaps exacting in a different way, to have an ideal, a far-off image to love, for between that and ourselves there can be no unpleasant, personal reaction, which causes such sorrow in human relationship. Such love is not love but an intellectual creation called love. Not being directly in contact with a Master one must depend on either an intermediary, or on one's own so-called intuition. Dependence on an intermediary destroys understanding and love and further conditions the mind; and so-called intuition has its grave dangers for it may be only a self-deceiving wish. Now, why do you want to depend on a mediator or on an intuition? To learn not to be greedy, to have no ill will, to be compassionate? Why do you want to look at a distant ideal when understanding and love can be awakened only through human relationship? When we love another, our passions, our possessive love, and jealousies are aroused; we find sorrow and conflict in this relationship, and because we cannot resolve this ache here, we try to run away from it. Because we do not know how to love human beings we love Masters, ideals, Gods. But you might say that to love a Master is also to love humanity, to love the highest is to love also the lowly. but this generally does not happen. Is this not odd, complicated, and artificial? If we cannot love another without possessiveness, without constant conflict and pain, with which we are all so familiar, if we don't understand this, how can we hope to understand and love something else, especially, when in this something there is a great possibility of self-deception? Where is love to begin, with Gods and Masters and ideals, or with human beings? How can there be love when we take pride in our individual prejudices, racial antagonisms, national hatreds, and economic conflicts? How can we love another when we are mainly concerned with our own security, with our own growth, with our own well-being? This so-called love of ideals, Masters, Gods, is romantic and false; I do not think one sees the brutality of this. The worship of Masters, ideals, is idolatry and destructive of understanding and love. Love and understanding are not the products of the intellect. Love is not to be divided artificially as the love of God and the love of man. If it can be so divided, it is no longer love. Love completely, wholly, without the thought of self, and thereby free yourself truly from fear which necessitates various forms of escape and forgetfulness. Questioner: What would you do if your child were attacked? Krishnamurti: I have no answer to hypothetical problems. How one will react instantly to violence will depend upon the conditioning of one's mind. If you have been conditioned to meet violence with violence, then you will act violently, but, if you have become aware of the cause and the process of violence, then you will depend upon the depth of your awareness and the fullness of your understanding and love. Our problem is: Can thought dissipate the centre of violence which is in oneself? It can, through constant awareness and understanding. Then if violence comes upon you unexpectedly you will know how to act, but mere speculation of how one should act in a future is vain. The problem is not how we shall act when violence is upon us but how can we now be free of violence in our thoughts and feelings? most of us are unaware of our own state of being; we act thoughtlessly and sorrow overtakes us. Questioner: Can one be self-reliant in spite of frustrated self expression? Is not the process of self-revelation part of the necessary self-reliance. Krishnamurti: We must discover for ourselves what it is in us that is expressing itself before we give such importance to self-expression. There can be no frustration if we understand the nature of the self that is craving to express itself. Giving importance to self-expression causes frustration. The individual expresses himself through his conditioning, and that limitation which he insists is his self-expression, is but sorrow and frustration. What is it that is constantly seeking expression in our daily action? Craving, is it not, in different forms, as power, success, satisfaction? I said relationship is a process of self-revelation. If thought allows itself, without any hindrance, to perceive its own process in the action and interaction of relationship, then there is the beginning of understanding of the causes of conflict and sorrow; this understanding is true self-reliance. Until one fully understands the process of craving with its self-protective fear which is very often revealed in relationship with another or with society, self-expression only becomes a barrier between man and man. This comprehensive awareness demands strenuous interest and discernment, which is true meditation. June 23, 1940 OJAI 6TH PUBLIC TALK 30TH JUNE, 1940 Those of you who have been to these meetings regularly will have to have a little patience as I am going to make a short resume of what I have been saying, to the newcomers. During the last five weeks we have been trying to understand the problem of greed and relationship. I tried to explain that as long as one depends psychologically on things, on property, there must be greed, which creates many individual and social problems. The natural need of man is not greed, but it is greed when things assume a psycho- logical significance and importance. Being caught up in greed how can thought free itself from it? This freedom does not come from mere renunciation or denial but from fully understanding the process of craving. Understanding is not control or restraint but a process that transcends both reason and emotion through discerning awareness. After dealing with greed and its complexities, I went into the question of human, personal relationship, in which, as most of us are aware, there is constant conflict. I tried to explain that relationship is a process of self-revelation, revelation of oneself through contact with others. That is, if we allow it, others can help us to see ourselves as we are, but this revelation is denied to us if we depend upon them or use them for our gratification and happiness, whether physiological or psychological. For, the condition of dependence is caused by fear which gives rise to possessive love. In this state of fear there cannot be self revelation or the understanding of oneself. Relationship is deep; it needs constant adjustment which becomes impossible if one is always seeking satisfaction and certainty. If the individual does not understand his relationship with another and the causes of conflict involved in it, then his relationship with society will inevitably lead to friction and antisocial action. The extension of the individual is society. Last Sunday we saw how dependence upon ideas creates beliefs, dogmas, creeds, and cults, which divide man against man. Can thought ever be free from all dependence, either of the past or the future? Dependence is an indication of fear which prevents the understanding of the real. When thought depends for its well-being on things, on people, there must be fear which creates illusion and sorrow dependence on various beliefs and ideals which one has created for oneself, prevents the understanding of human relationship and unity of man. We see this process ever at work in the world through social and religious divisions; each group is anxious to preserve at all costs its own separative identity and seeks to convert other groups, or to overcome their resistance to its own security. Thus the world is torn apart by beliefs, ideals, dogmas, and creeds. As I explained last week, thought ever seeking security, moves from one anchorage to another; but in each anchorage there is uncertainty, yet it hopes for ultimate certainty. So it creates an ideal reality, a god that is of ultimate satisfaction. Against the background of the known, mind tries to find the unknown, thus creating duality. The mind has become a storehouse of experiences and memories, it is the past with its traditions and accumulative certainties, limiting the present and so the future. With this burden, thought tries to understand the unknown. What is known is not reality. From what source does our thought spring? It begins, surely, does it not, from craving, from expansive and outgoing desire? Perception, contact, sensation, give rise to reflection; then craving generates these outgoing desires in which thought becomes entangled. Then begins the conflict of the opposites, the pleasurable and the painful, the transient and the permanent. Our consciousness is held in the conflict of the opposites, of pain and pleasure, of denials and identification, of the self and the not-self. The content of our consciousness which we regard as our whole being, is made up of these dual and contradictory values, both mental and emotional. Observe your own process of thinking and you will see that it springs from some fear or other, from craving, affection, hope, from the sensation of what is mine and not mine. In other words, thought is enslaved by craving. This dependent thought divides itself into the high and the low, the conscious and the subconscious, and there is conflict between the two. The conscious influenced by the subconscious, creates that faculty which we call the intellect, the faculty to discern, to discriminate, to choose. Memory, tradition, value imposed by society, religion, and personal experience, influence our discernment. Thought, in our daily life, is occupied with the creation of tradition, the continuance of tradition, and the modification of tradition. To do away with the conflict that is there, to prevent it from arising, and to create a state in which there will be no conflict; to overcome any sorrow that is there, to prevent any future sorrow from arising, and to find peace that is enduring; this is the desire of most of us, is it not? The will of outgoing desires, with its conflict and pain; the will to refrain or to deny, and the will to renounce; all these forms of will are still within the limitation of craving. If one can grasp the full significance of all these forms of will, and how they arise in life, in action, then through intense and discerning awareness there is an understanding which is not the result of mere control, denial, or renunciation. This understanding is the natural outcome of deep awareness of the process of craving in its different forms. This demands keen interest out of which comes spontaneous concentration. Understanding is not a reward; in the very moment of awareness it is born. The outgoing desires with their various layers of memories, the divisions of the high and the low, and the different types of will, form the content of our consciousness. The intellect, the faculty to discern, to choose, is influenced by the past, and if we merely rely on that faculty to understand, to love, then our understanding, our love, will be limited. Reality, or whatever one may choose to call it, for most of us, is the product of the intellect or of the emotion and so must inevitably be illusion. But if we can become keenly aware of the process of crav- ing, understanding will naturally come into being. This awareness is not morbid self-introspection, but a keen, joyous perception, in which conflict of choice is no longer taking place. The conflict of choice arises when the intellect, with its fears, and limitations of mine and another's of merit and demerit, of failure and success, begins to project itself into the solution of our human problems. What we have to become aware of is craving in its different forms; this craving is not to be denied or renounced, but to be understood. Through mere denial or renunciation thought does not free itself from fear and its limitations. Questioner: How do we keep intelligence awakened? Krishnamurti: Surely, this is a wrong way of putting the question, is it not? Either you are awake or you are not. Is there not the subtle thought implied in this question that you are fundamentally intelligent, that deep within you is reality or God and that this abiding intelligence in you is guiding, shaping your life? And, at the same time, being caught up in ignorance and sorrow, how are you to keep awake to its beauty and its promptings? Now, where there is darkness there cannot be light, where there is ignorance there cannot be understanding or love. If you are God then you are not suffering, you are not afraid, brutal, covetous; but you are suffering, you are afraid, so that cannot be false, and to assert that you are not suffering because you are truth or God is to deceive yourself and be in illusion. Alert and discerning awareness alone can awaken intelligence. In becoming aware of your environment, you begin to perceive the creator of that environment, which is yourself; you see how you have separated yourself from it and thereby started a dual process of conflict between the I and the not-I. But through this awareness you begin to understand the cause of your own prejudices, your fears, your national and racial antagonisms, your craving. In trying to understand the environment you come upon yourself, the investigator, and you find that you yourself are limited. Then how is thought to free itself from its own limitations? it can do so only by becoming intensely aware of its own process of greed, possessive love, and its craving for its own continuity. This strenuous awareness creates its own understanding. Questioner: What may I hope. Krishnamurti: Does not the questioner mean: What is there for me in the future? One is seeking blessedness in the future and thereby creates imaginatively, ideally, or romantically, a state after which one constantly aspires, with a nostalgic feeling of otherness. Hope indicates a future. That is, having been frustrated in one's desires and ambitions and being caught up in this world of brutal struggle and sorrow, one hopes for a happy, peaceful future state. Is there a blessedness in the future beyond all these transitory states? Time is the continuous past, present, and future. Hope, the outcome of the present influenced by the past, is concerned with the future. Future hope implies the postponement of the present. Looking to the future is a denial of the present. When you are concerned with the future, you must have satisfying theories about it, what you will be, will not be, and so on. You must create theories that will help you to overcome the present, with its aches and fears. So one begins to procrastinate; but looking to the future is an avoidance of the present. Or if you do not look to the future, then you look to the immediate alteration of the present. When you are concerned with gaining blessedness in the present, there must be haste, a restlessness, a quick, eager, thoughtless acceptance of assurances to gain what you crave for. Both these aspects of time, postponement and haste, bring about illusion. To look to the future for hope or to the present for immediate fulfilment is to create delusion from which sorrow arises. Blessedness is ever in the present. It can never be in the future. Even in the future there is always the present. If you cannot understand the present you will not understand it in the future. If we don't understand now, how can we understand in the future? If we are not keenly aware now, how can we realize it in the future? Blessedness is ever in the present, and to understand it requires constant interest and awareness. Peace is ever in the present, but to understand it one must not be concerned with time. Thought must free itself from the continuous past, present, and future; in that freedom, what is, is immortal, timeless. Blessedness is not a reward. One has to be alert, aware, in a state of continual understanding, never letting one thought or one word pass by without seeing its significance. This state of awareness which is happiness, is not to be confused with self-introspective, morbid analysis. Blessedness is ever in the present, and to know it one must be free of the bondage of time. Questioner: Do you believe in karma and reincarnation? Krishnamurti: I hear some of you groaning. Why? Do you understand the problem of karma and reincarnation so well or are you bored with it, or are you tired? Audience: No. Krishnamurti: Now let us go into this question fairly thoroughly because I think it is important to understand it, for consciously or unconsciously most of us think in terms of rebirth, continuity, and personal immortality. Let us take first the idea of karma. It is a Sanskrit word, its basic meaning is to act, to do, to work. If thought is fettered, limited, then all action springing from it is also fettered, limited, An acorn will produce an oak tree; the seed holds the future tree. A cause must produce a certain effect, a certain result. We experience this in our daily life. We do something without understanding, either greedily or viciously. It brings its own result. If you hate, the result of this is further hate and violence. If thought is narrow, personal, it must always create, with modification and variation, further ignorance, further limitation, and it cannot escape from its results. The result can always be changed or modified according to our understanding and the integrity of our thought. A cause may not necessarily produce a definite, expected result, for there are always factors and influences tending to modify or change the effect. Thought cannot escape from its limited action and reaction until it understands deeply and fully the cause and the process of its own bondage. Suppose one is a Hindu, the thought that is expressed by him is limited by the beliefs and traditions of a Hindu, which are the results of accumulated craving, ignorance, fear, and convenience. When this thought expresses itself in action, then that action creates further limitation of thought. Into this very drastic and simple reality, reward and punishment have been introduced, to deter so-called wrong action. If one is good - the good depending upon the limitation of thought, not upon understanding - then in the future or in the next life one will be suitably rewarded, and if one is not, one will be suitably punished. This element of fear, as reward and punishment, destroys understanding and love. If thought is influenced by reward and punishment, gain and loss, achievement and failure, then it cannot understand the craving that seeks reward and avoids punishment. Thought can only understand its own process if it does not identify itself with and cling to any of its own creations, any of its outgoing desires. To dissociate our thought from the idea of reward and punishment requires earnest awareness and in this process each one will discover his own particular form of conditioning. Mere discovery of the cause is not understanding; action, born of understanding alone, frees thought from limitation. The idea of reincarnation involves the rebirth of the I which is regarded as a spiritual essence, the soul - and this implies a timeless state - or as the various sheaths which cover up the reality in man. This I is supposed to continue being born over and over again till it reaches perfection, reality, liberation. We are trying to understand the idea; we are not condemning the theory, so please do not be on the defensive. If you think that you are a spiritual entity or reality, what does it mean? Does it not imply a timeless, deathless state? If it is the eternal, then it has no growth; for that which is capable of growth is not eternal. If the soul is spiritual essence, above and beyond all physical condi- tioning, apart from this thing called the I, then the I is of no importance. Then why do we cling to it so desperately? Why are we caught up in its perpetuity, in its activities, in its ambitions and achievements, in its expansive desires? So when we say there is a spiritual entity, independent of all influence and conditioning, surely such an idea is an illusion, is it not? And also, if that spiritual entity is beyond and above and yet in us, if it cannot be contaminated, if nothing can be added to it, then why do we exert ourselves to understand, why do we struggle to make ourselves more perfect? If this spiritual essence is supposed to be love, intelligence, truth, then how can it be surrounded by this confusing darkness, by this violence and hate, by this feverish pursuit of the demands of the self? Yet it is. This does not mean that I am denying reality which can only be comprehended through understanding illusion and not by inventing illusions. We have accepted this idea of a spiritual entity, apart from the I, for such an idea is very gratifying, comforting. Now what is this I? We see continuation of character, the I being different from another I. As I explained, conditioned thought must continue to create further limitations for itself. The I is not only a particular, physical form with its name, but beyond its outer appearance, there is the psychological I. What is this I? A representative of previous influences and limitations, being. born in a certain family, belonging to a certain group, a particular race, with its prejudices, its hates and superstitions, fears, and so on. These fears and conditioning originate in ignorance, in craving. These limitations have been transmitted from father to son right through till I am also that father, that past. Audience: This is interesting. Krishnamurti: You say that this is interesting; if you saw the implication in it, you would understand its real significance and not merely be intellectually interested. My father is also myself. The ideas and the beliefs, which my forefathers had and which have come down to me, combine with the present action and reaction and become the I of the present. Thus character is preserved and continued myself as today being reborn as another in the future. Without sentimentality and false emotion and prejudice, one can perceive the deep significance and reality of what I am saying: that our ancestors, through their desires, fears, and hopes, created a certain pattern of thought and this thought is partly continuing in us; these ideas, in combination with the present, have created that narrow and limited thought which is the I. This I, this ignorance, this myself, will go on in the future as another. So the world, mankind, is myself. If I, being the world, the you, act thoughtlessly, I must increase and perpetuate ignorance with all its effects, fears, and hates. So what I do matters greatly; not in terms of reward and punishment. But when I am deeply concerned about my rebirth, my immortality, the continuance of my experiences of achievement and sorrow, such concern must lead to wrong and thoughtless conclusions. The I is a conditioned, limited state, and so it is unreal. Reality is that state which is free from the self. Now, most of us are apt to think that cause and effect are cyclic. If it were thus in the past it must be so in the present, and so in the future. But this is not so, for there is always a continuous change taking place and thus modifying the effect. Understanding the past influences and limitations, and discerning their effect, thought can transform itself in the present; and need not be bound by the past. Thought can free itself in the present from the bondages of the past through intense awareness. Take, for example, a Hindu or a Christian with his social and religious background; thoughtlessly he lives in a limited state and so in sorrow, and he attributes this sorrow to karma, to the past and not to his thoughtlessness. It is indolence, a form of conceit, that makes us cling to our past. Blessedness is not in the past or in the future but in the present for those who through joyous awareness understand and so are free from the cause of ignorance, which is craving. If you will seriously reflect upon what I have been saying, then understanding will come out of your own earnestness. Knowledge is utterly valueless if you do not relate it to your daily life. If we are worldly, psychologically depending on things for our personal happiness, if our love is possessive and our thought crippled by beliefs and fears, then life becomes an increasing sorrow. In joyous and strenuous awareness thought frees itself from its limitations; out of self-reliant, exercised understanding, there comes peace. June 30, 1940 OJAI 7TH PUBLIC TALK 7TH JULY, 1940 The world, especially at the present time, is in a state of confusion and conflict and in deep sorrow. One can create a theoretical conception of what the world should be and try to adjust oneself to that idea but in the long run that would not contribute to our understanding of the complex problem of life, though momentarily it might alleviate our suffering. Intellect is the faculty to discern and when it is limited, as it is now, theoretical hopes are of little use. When so many people are caught up in hate, in ruthless ambition, which is creating such havoc and misery, you, at least as an individual, can liberate yourself from these causes and help to bring about a happier and a saner world. If you have a desire to help the world, you must begin with yourself for the world is yourself. The present condition of the world has been brought about consciously or unconsciously by each one of us, and in order to alter it fundamentally, we must deliberately and intelligently direct our minds and hearts to bring about a complete change in ourselves. If we do not deeply understand this and try to organize merely a better economic or social system, our efforts will not, I feel, create a saner and happier world. Unless the individual is harmonious in himself, he is bound to be antisocial in his relationship with another, which is after all society. We have been trying to understand what it is that creates in us and so about us confusion and misery. The disproportionate value we give to things when we psychologically depend upon them creates greed. Human needs do not corrupt our thoughts and feelings, if psychologically we do not become dependent upon things, possessions. As long as our relationship with another is possessive there must be conflict, for conflict arises when there is physiological and psychological dependence. I explained how the world is broken up and divided, through individuals and groups depending upon beliefs, dogmas, theories, whether they be political, social, or religious. These beliefs and dogmas have their origin in the craving of each individual for security, not only economic, but also psychological and spiritual. Thus we are in a world divided in itself, racially, socially, economically, nationally, and religiously. We are aware of this. Then what are we to do? How are we to break through this vicious circle of greed, possessive love, and personal immortality? Is it possible to break through completely and not fall into other subtle forms of avarice, power, and possessiveness? How are we to set about removing the cause of so much suffering and illusion? We must become aware, thoughtful. I am going to explain what I mean by awareness. We have to become conscious of what we are. How do we become conscious of what we are? By being interested. That is, in being interested, there is a natural concentration which produces will. Concentration is the focussing of all energies on something in which we are interested. For instance, when our interest is in making money, and in the power money gives, or when we are absorbed in a book or in some creative activity, there is a natural concentration. Will is created when there is interest. When there is no interest, there is diffusion of thought, contradiction of desire. The beginning of awareness is the natural concentration of interest in which there is no conflict of desires and choice, and therefore there is a possibility of understanding different and opposing desires. If thought is seeking a certain definite result, then there is exclusion or aggregation, which leads to incompleteness and is not the awareness of which I speak. You cannot understand the whole complex process of your being if you are seeking results or trying to achieve a state which you think is peace or reality or liberation. Awareness is the understanding of the whole process of the conscious and the unconscious desire. In the very beginning of awareness there is the perception of what is true; truth is not a result or an achievement, but it is to be understood. In the very process of understanding, say for example, greed, there is the realization of what is true. This understanding is not born of mere reason or emotion but is the outcome of awareness, the completeness of thought-action. When we are conscious, we are aware of a dual process at work in us, want and non-want, expansive desires and refraining desires. The outgoing desires have their own form of will. The concentration on outgoing desires, and their action, create a world of competition and division in worldliness, of possessive love and the craving for personal continuity. perceiving the consequences of these outgoing desires, which cause pain and sorrow, there is the desire to refrain, with its own type of will. So there is conflict between the outgoing will and the will to refrain. This conflict creates either understanding or confusion and ignorance. The outgoing will and the will to refrain are the cause of duality, which is not to be denied. Though opposites have a similar common cause, we cannot slur over them or put them aside; we have to understand them and so be free from the conflict of opposites. Being envious and therefore conscious of conflict and pain, we try to cultivate its opposite but there is no freedom from envy. The motive for cultivating the opposite matters greatly; if it is a desire to escape from the struggle and pain of envy, then its opposite becomes identical with itself and so there is no freedom from envy. Whereas, if you consider deeply the intrinsic cause of envy and become aware of its various forms, with their urges, then in that understanding there is a freedom from envy, without creating its opposite. The concentration that comes into being in the process of awareness is not the result of self-interest or of morbid self-introspection. As I said, to be interested is to be creative which is happiness. This concentration of interest comes naturally when there is awareness. When there is an understanding of the process of outgoing desires, with its so-called positive will and the will of restraint, then there comes a completeness, a wholeness which is not the creation of the intellect. Intellect, the faculty to discern, is the instrument of understanding and not an end in itself. Understanding transcends reason and emotion. Questioner: What is best attitude towards this terrible war in Europe? Can we do anything by thought? I feel the horror and suffering of this war. Can I escape from it? Can I escape from it if I dissociate myself from it? Will you consider the present world conditions in your talk? Krishnamurti: We often mistakenly think that the world's chaos and misery arise from a single cause and by overcoming it we shall bring order and happiness to the world. Life is a complex process and we must have wide and deep understanding to grasp its vastness. War is the result of our daily life, of our acquisitiveness, of our general attitude towards our fellow men in so-called peacetime. In our daily life we are competitive, aggressive, nationalistic, vengeful, self-seeking, which inevitably culminates in war; intellectually and emotionally we are influenced and limited by the past which produces the present reaction of hate, antagonism, and conflict. Intellectually we are incapable of clear discernment, and so we are confused; we are incapable of critical discernment because our faculty to think has become dulled by previous influences and limitations. Until thought is freed from them, struggle and war, pain and sorrow, will continue. Until our own lives are no longer aggressive and greedy, and psychologically we cease seeking security, and so breaking up the world into different classes, races, nationalities, religions, there cannot be peace. Though, superficially, there might he a cessation of this carnage, yet until we direct our minds and hearts earnestly and strenuously to understand and so free ourselves from those psychological causes of acquisitiveness, possessive love, and continuity of self, struggle and misery must ever be. Peace is from within, not from without. This understanding of peace requires deep thought and earnestness. You ask if you can escape from war if you dissociate yourself from it. How can you dissociate yourself from war? For you are the cause of war. Why are you associated with this war that is going on? Either because your relations are involved in it or you are emotionally caught up in it. If your relations are involved in it, such a sorrow is understandable, but merely to be emotionally involved in it is thoughtless. If you merely dissociate yourself from this form of excitement you will undoubtedly turn to other forms. So unless you understand why you depend upon sensation, upon this constant search for excitement, which becomes vulgar and degrading, you will ever find new forms of excitement, satisfaction. The cause is deep and you have to understand it to be free from its superficialities. Do not think by merely wishing for peace, you will have peace, when in your daily life of relationship you are aggressive, acquisitive, seeking psychological security here or in the hereafter. You have to understand the central cause of conflict and sorrow and then dissolve it and not merely look to the outside for peace. But you see, most of us are indolent. We are too lazy to take hold of ourselves and understand ourselves, and being lazy, which is really a form of conceit, we think others will solve this problem for us and give us peace, or that we should destroy the apparently few people that are causing wars. When the individual is in conflict within himself he must inevitably create conflict without, and only he can bring about peace within himself and so in the world, for he is the world. Questioner: Should we refrain from taking on new responsibilities in order not to have cause for new desires? Krishnamurti: Surely that depends on how one has acquitted oneself with regard to the old responsibilities. If one has not understood the past responsibilities fully and has merely broken away from them taking on new ones is merely the continuation of the old in a different form. Must I explain this further? Audience: Yes, please. Krishnamurti: What we consider new responsibilities are really the continuation of the old under different conditions. So, before one takes on new responsibilities, one must consider how one has fulfilled the old; if one has not, but has merely broken away through anger, through thoughtlessness or obstinacy, then one has to consider why one takes on the new. The assumption of the new may only be the continuation of craving for sensation, for comfort, for the old desire has not been fully understood and solved. Desire is ever seeking further expression and expansion and merely taking on new responsibilities will not fulfil desire, for there is no end to desire, to craving. But in understanding the process of desire, through becoming aware of its implications and causes, you will know for yourself whether to take on new responsibilities or not. I cannot naturally tell you what you should do, but you can find out for yourself definitely. Questioner: Please tell us what is your conception of God. Krishnamurti: Now, why do we want to know if there is God? If we can understand deeply the intention of this question we shall comprehend a great deal. Belief and non-belief are definite hindrances to the understanding of reality; belief and ideals are the result of fear; fear limits thought and to escape from conflict we turn to various forms of hopes, stimulation, illusions. Reality is authentic, direct, experience. If we depend on the description of another, reality ceases, for what is described is not the real. If we have never tasted salt, no description of its taste is of any value. We have to taste it for ourselves to know it. Now, most of us want to know what God is because we are indolent, because it is easier to depend upon the experience of another than upon our own understanding: it also cultivates in us an irresponsible attitude, and then all we have to do is to imitate another, mould our life after the pattern, or the experience of another, and by following the example we think we have arrived, attained, realized. To understand the highest, there must be liberation from time, the continuous past, present, and future; from the fears of the unknown, of failure, and success. You are asking this question because you want either to compare your image of God with mine and so bolster up yourself or to condemn, which only leads to contention and wallowing in opinions. This way does not lead to understanding. God, Truth, or whatever you may choose to call reality, cannot be described. That which can be described is not the real. It is vain to inquire if there is God, for reality comes into being when thought frees itself from its limitations, its cravings. If we are brought up in the belief of God, or in opposition to that, thought is influenced, a habit is formed, from generation to generation. Both belief and non-belief in God prevent the understanding of God. Being anchored in belief, any experience that you may have in accordance with your belief can only strengthen your previous conditioning. Mere continuation of limited thought is not an understanding of reality. When we assert that through our own experience there is or there is no God, we are continuing and repeating experiences influenced by the past. Experiences, without our understanding the causes of bondage, do not give us wisdom. If we continue to repeat a certain influence which we call experience, such experience only strengthens our limitations and so does not bring about freedom from them. The mind, as I pointed out in my talk, is the result of craving and therefore transient, and when the mind conceives a theory of God or of truth it is bound to be the product of its own conceit and so it is not real. One has to become aware of the various forms of craving, fear, and so on, and through constant inquiry and discernment, a new understanding comes into being which is not the result of the intellect or of the emotion. To understand reality, there must be constant and earnest awareness. Questioner: What is the significance of Christ or the problem of Christianity in our present age? Krishnamurti: What is happening in our present age? There is confusion, hate, fear, greed, war. Now, what is the answer to all this? Is there a Christian or a Hindu or a Buddhist answer to this, or is there only one true solution? Each religion and each dogmatic group thinks that it alone has the key to the solution of the present chaos. There is competition between religions, with their systems and priests. The solution of the present chaos lies in yourself and not in another. Through self-reliance you can bring about peace within yourself, and so in the world, which is an extension of yourself. No leader can give you peace. The important thing is to understand how your own thought and action create the present chaos and misery and only through your own self-reliant and discerning awareness can there be freedom from this ever recurring agony and confusion. Questioner: Is there any relationship between reality and myself? Krishnamurti: You hopefully imply, do you not, that there should be a relationship between reality and yourself? You believe that reality or God or whatever you like to call it, is in you, but is covered over by ignorance; then you ask what is the relationship between this ignorance and reality. Can there be any relationship between ignorance and understanding? Now what are these coverings, these sheaths, that are supposed to hide reality? What is the I that is asking this question? Is not the I a certain form, a name, a certain bundle of qualities, memories, that have divided themselves into the high and the low, into the spiritual and non-spiritual, and so on? All of this is the I. Now you want to know if there is any relationship between this I and reality. What is reality? You don't know, but you have a hope, a longing for it. Can there be any relationship between the known, the I, and the unknown? You can find out if there is any relationship only by understanding what you are, not by supposing or asserting that there is a relationship between the I and reality. Surely, if the I is transient, and it is transient, as we can observe it from day to day, then what is the relationship between the transient and something which is not? None whatsoever. In thoroughly comprehending the process of the I and its transiency and being unattached to it, there is an understanding of reality. The I is this bundle of desires, of greed, of possessive love, of craving for immortality, here or in the hereafter, and through earnest awareness the process of craving can be transformed into peace which is not a theoretical hope but a reality. Questioner: You say we must be alert and watchful every moment and that this watchfulness isn't the same as introspection. Will you please explain how they differ? Krishnamurti: Between awareness and introspection there is a difference. Introspection is a kind of self-analysis in which thought is measuring its own action and its results, according to pleasure and pain, reward and punishment, thus forming a judgment, a pattern. That is, having examined the action of the past, thought tries to carry out what it has learned through the present action and so determines how it shall act in the future. Observe what takes place as you try to analyze yourself. You are always analyzing a past action; you cannot analyze an action that is being lived. If you have done something which has caused pain or conflict you want to understand it in order not to act again in the same manner. So when you do this you are trying to understand a past action, a dead action, with present intention, hoping to produce a future result. That is, thought is occupied, in this introspective process, with the result, with how it should act. Now, awareness is different. In awareness there is only the present, that is, being aware, you see the past process of influence which controls the present and modifies the future. Awareness is an integral process, not a process of division. For example, if I ask the question, do I believe in God, in the very process of asking, I can observe, if I am aware, what it is that is making me ask that question; if I am aware I can perceive what has been and what are the forces at work which are compelling me to ask that question. Then, I am aware of various forms of fear, those of my ancestors who have created a certain idea of God and have handed it down to me, and combining their idea with my present reactions, I have modified or changed the concept of God. If I am aware I perceive this entire process of the past, its effect in the present and in the future, integrally, as a whole. If one is aware, one sees how through fear one's concept of God arose; or perhaps there was a person who had an original experience of reality or of God and communicated it to another who in his greediness made it his own, and gave impetus to the process of imitation. Awareness is the process of completeness, and introspection is incomplete. The result of introspection is morbid, painful, whereas awareness is enthusiasm and joy. Questioner: Do you advise meditation? Krishnamurti: It all depends on what you call meditation. There is a great deal involved in this question. Have you ever done any so-called meditation? Perhaps some of you have in one form or another. Perhaps you have reflected deeply when there was a pressing human problem that demanded an answer; this can be considered to be a form of meditation. Through continual dwelling upon a certain idea which helps to eliminate other intruding ideas, you will learn con- centration; this also is considered to be a form of meditation. You want to awaken certain powers, the so-called occult powers, because you hope by having these powers you will find greater understanding. These practices are also considered a form of meditation. To be constantly alert and aware, to be thoughtful, is the beginning of meditation, for without the true foundation of discernment, mere concentration and other forms of so-called meditation become dangerous and are without any deep significance. As I pointed out, when you are aware you will find that the mind is seeking a result, a conclusion, desiring achievement, security. To pursue a predetermined conclusion is no longer meditation for thought then is caught in its own net of images. Let us consider the process of meditation a little more fully. It is very difficult to steady the wandering and trembling thought; it moves from one object of sensation to another, from one interest to another. In this process one becomes aware of the extreme sensitiveness of thought. Thought wanders from one set of ideas to another, either because of interest or merely because it is sluggish and indifferent. If thought merely controls itself from wandering, it becomes narrow, limited, and destructive. If thought is interested in wandering, then merely controlling itself is useless because that will not reveal why it is interested in the dissipation of its own energy. But if you are interested to find out why it is wandering then you are beginning to discern and be aware and there is then a natural, spontaneous concentration. So, first you must observe that thought is wandering, then discern why it wanders. When thought perceives that it is indolent, lazy, it is already beginning to be active, but merely controlling thought does not bring about creative action. When there is a natural concentration of interest, not mere control, you begin to discover that thought is in a process of constant imitation and that it is ever wandering through its many layers of memories, precepts, examples; or, having had a stimulating sensation or experience during moments of concentration it re-creates it and tries to vivify the past sensation, but thereby it only stultifies its own creative process; or, apart from daily life, thought tries to develop various qualities in order to control its daily actions, and living loses its inherent significance, and standard becomes most important. All this then is merely a form of approximation and not creative meditation. If you are aware in your daily activities - when you are talking, when you are walking, when you are making money or seeking pleasure - in that awareness, depending on your earnestness, there begins an understanding, a love, which is not at the behest of intellect or of emotion. So, meditation is a process of awareness in action. From the reality of life must spring meditation, and then meditation is a process of self-liberation. Meditation is not the approximation of a pattern. The stilling of the mind through will, choice, may achieve certain calmness but this calmness is of death, producing languor. This is not meditation. But the understanding of choice, which is a very delicate and strenuous process, is meditation in which there is calmness without a trace of languor or contentment. There must be alert and strenuous discernment in meditation. Meditation is a process of completeness, wholeness, not a series of achievements culminating in reality. Questioner: What has diet to do with the mental process or intelligence? Krishnamurti: Certainly, a great deal. Understanding reality does not necessarily depend on the kind of food one eats; one may be a vegetarian and be vicious and dull, or a meat-eater and be intelligent in the widest sense. If one overeats, it is an indication of thoughtlessness; moderate and rational diet is necessary to alert thought. Too much fasting also dulls the mind. Not to be angry, not to be disparaging in our talk, not to be ruthless, obstinate, not to flatter, not to receive flattery, these are more important than the consideration of what we eat. Of primary importance are your thoughts and feelings. Cleanliness of food is not cleanliness of thought. Again we begin at the wrong end, with the external, hoping to grasp that state of inward peace, which cannot be realized through the mere alteration of environment. We hope to have psychological peace through discipline and denial, through imitation and isolation; we begin at the periphery, hoping to create inward peace and compassion but we must begin from the centre, the centre from which arise conflict and sorrow. We must become aware of the process of craving and its outward expressions; in discerning these, there is a natural restraint, not imposed through fear. July 7, 1940 OJAI 8TH PUBLIC TALK 14TH JULY, 1940 We are all well aware of the appalling chaos and misery that exist at the present time, not only in the world about us but also in ourselves. To this problem there must be a complete solution. Certain groups and systems of thought maintain that only their particular panacea will solve the problem. Any partial remedy to the complexity of life, however facile and logical, must inevitably bring in its wake other complications. Let us see if we cannot find a complete solution to this problem, which is economic, psychological, and spiritual. We must understand this struggle, this suffering, as comprehensively as possible not partially through the limitation of any particular system; we must have a free mind that is capable of facing the problem as a whole. There must be some cause for this confusion and misery not only in ourselves but also in our relationship with mankind which we call society. If we can understand the fundamental cause, then perhaps this problem will be forever solved. We will consider two different approaches to the problem of conflict and sorrow. This division is artificial, for convenience only. The one is the approach from the outside, and the other from within. If we attempt to solve this problem of struggle and pain entirely from the outside, we shall not understand it, nor shall we understand it if we deal with it only from within. For the sake of clarity only, do we divide life as the outer and the inner, but to understand the complex problem of life we must have an integrated understanding. In all my talks I have been trying to explain this integrated approach to our daily problems of relationship, not only with another but also with our work and our ideas. When we try to solve the problem of existence from the outside as it were, we soon realize that there must be a complete social and economic change; we see that there must be the elimination of barriers, racial, national, economic. We perceive also that we must be free of religious barriers, with their separative dogmas and beliefs, which cause different groups to be formed in antagonistic competition with one another. Organized religions have separated man from man, they have not united mankind. If we approach this problem of existence from the outside, emphasis must be laid on institution, on legislation, on the importance of the state, with its resultant dangers. Though the action of the state may momentarily give satisfactory results, there is inherent in it great possibilities of corruption and brutality; for the sake of an ideology man will sacrifice man. In this external approach there is a possibility of losing oneself in an ideology, in service, in the state, and so on; one hopes unconsciously that through this forgetfulness, one's own sorrows, anxieties, responsibilities, and conflicts, will disappear. And yet, in spite of the attempt to sacrifice oneself to the outer, there still remains the I with its personal, limited ambitions, hopes, fears, passions, and greed. One may forget oneself in the state, but as long as the I remains, the state becomes the new means for its expansion, for its glory, and cunning thought will again bring about new chaos and misery. Competition for property is primarily for the power it gives, and power will ever be sought as long as the I exists. Competition is the outward manifestation of the inner conflict of ambition, envy, and the worship of success. The other approach to the problem of suffering and conflict is from within; to overcome the many causes that create conflict in relationship between individuals, and so with society. We try to overcome one cause by another cause, one substitution-by another substitution, and so thought gets entangled in its own vicious net. We try to remove the cause of conflict and misery by mere assertions, by logical and rational conclusions. We worship God or an idea or a pattern in order to forget ourselves and be free of our-daily struggles through our sacrifice and love. There is the idea that the individual is a spiritual essence, and if through constant assertion and control he can discipline thought and emotion according to a particular idea, he will be able to identify himself with that spiritual essence and thus escape his daily conflict in relationship and action. Thus the pattern, the belief, becomes more important than the understanding of life. There is ever competition between religious groups; their leaders are thinking in terms of conversion and so cannot coalesce. Behind the weight of tradition, escape, and worship, there is ever the I, with its worldliness, possessive love, and craving for its own immortality. Though we may try to lose or forget ourselves in beliefs and dogmas, yet behind this effort there is an intense craving for completeness, wholeness. Without thoroughly understanding this craving, merely to multiply or change beliefs and dogmas is utterly in vain. There is a complete answer to our problem of suffering and conflict, which is not based on dogmatism or on theories. This answer is to be found when we approach the problem integrally from the centre; that is, we must understand the process of the I in its relationship with another, with action, with belief. In the voluntary transformation of the process of the I, intelligently and sanely and without compulsion, lies the complete solution of our conflict and sorrow. As most of us are unwilling to concentrate thought on the fundamental alteration in the centre, legislation and institutions force us to adjust ourselves to an outward pattern in the hope of achieving social harmony, but this does not eradicate the cause of conflict and suffering. Compulsion does not create understanding, whether it is from outside or from within. The complete answer to this problem of conflict and suffering lies in understanding the process of craving, not through mere control and introspection, but through becoming aware of its expression in our daily thought and action. That is, by becoming aware of greed, possessive love, and the desire for personal continuity, there comes into being a comprehensive understanding without the conflict of choice. This needs experimental approach and earnest application. As most of us are slothful, environmental influences and external impositions, as values, traditions, opinions, control our lives and so keep our thought in bondage. Unless we thoroughly understand and so transcend the process of craving, however well the outer is planned and made orderly, this inward process will ever overcome the outer and bring about disorder and confusion. However carefully and sanely the social and economic conditions are arranged, as long as individual thought is acquisitive, possessive, seeking security for itself either here or in the hereafter, these well-arranged social orders will constantly be disintegrated. The inner is ever overcoming the outer and until we transcend craving, the superficially well-arranged social order is in vain. We as individuals must direct our thought to that freedom in which there is no sense of the I, the freedom from the self. This freedom from the self can only come about when we understand the process of craving as acquisitiveness, possessive love, and personal immortality. For, the world is the extension or projection of the individual, and if the individual looks to authority and legislation to bring about a drastic change within himself, he will be caught in a vicious circle of thoughtlessness from which there is no release. Through constant and alert awareness, thought must free itself from worldliness and discern greed from need; thought must free itself from possessive love, and love completely, without fear without the thought of self; thought must free itself from the craving for personal immortality through property, family, or race, or through the continuation of the individual I. As long as craving, expressing itself in these three complex ways, is the motive of action, peace and human unity cannot be realized. When thought is not conditioned by acquisitiveness, possessive love, and the desire for personal continuation, there is true disinterestedness which alone can bring about a sane and happy social order. This depends on each one of us, and each one of us has to become actively and discerningly aware of the expressions of the self and so free thought from its bondage. Questioner: Can continued effort in meditation lead to full awareness? Krishnamurti: Without true discernment mere concentration on an idea, image, or virtue, leads to barrenness of thought and to the destruction of love. Discernment comes through constant awareness of our daily thought, speech, and action; without this true corrective element, meditation becomes an escape, a source of delusion. Without understanding and love, any form of meditation must lead to illusion: without true awareness, any form of meditation is an escape from reality. When there is awareness we observe that thought is ever approximating itself to a pattern, to a memory, to a past experience; it is measuring itself against an opinion or a standard. Though mind may reject outward patterns, standards, values, yet it may cling to its own so-called experience; this experience without true discernment may be the continuation of narrow and prejudiced thought, and unless mind frees itself from its bondages, meditation only strengthens its own limitation. So through alert awareness of daily thought, speech, and action, thought must free itself from its fetters; this freedom is the true beginning of meditation. When thought is occupied with approximation then it is concerned with achievement, with success, and so it is no longer capable of true discernment, for the desire to gain, to attain, springs from fear which prevents true perception. Fear cannot yield understanding but in becoming intensely aware of the causes of fear in our daily life, interest and discernment are born. Interest is natural concentration without the conflict of opposing desires. We force ourselves to concentrate without this interest, and so it becomes artificial, painful, and has no deep significance. Understanding does not come through compulsion or through mere control but through constant and earnest awareness of our daily thoughts and activities, of our speech and work. Meditation must spring from this awareness. The cultivation of so-called occult powers, trances, and so forth, is of very little importance. Without true discernment mere concentration on images, standards, and ideals, does not lead to comprehension. Creative stillness of the mind is necessary for the understanding of reality. Questioner: You are in a happy position, all you need is given to you by friends. We have to earn money for ourselves and our families, we have to contend with the world. How can you understand us and help us? Krishnamurti: Each one of us has to contend with some particular environment. Each has his own limitations and tendencies wherever his sphere of existence may lie. Being envious of another does not help us to comprehend the aches and sorrows of our own life; to be envious is part of our heritage, part of our social structure. If we succumb to our limitation, then there is no possibility of understanding another; but if we, wherever we find ourselves, try earnestly to understand our environment and free thought from our particular tendencies and limited experiences, then we will comprehend life as a whole, and not be bound by the prejudices, the traditions, and values of our particular environment. Whatever the circumstances of our life may be, we have to understand and so transcend them. Thought must dig deep into its own conscious and subconscious states and liberate itself from those influences and bondages that make it personal, greedy, possessive, and cruel. Truth is to be understood in our daily thoughts, conduct, and activities. It is foolish to be envious of another, for the other is ourselves. Questioner: In one of your recent talks you stressed the importance of action. Is what I do of tremendous importance? Krishnamurti: I said that if thought is limited by memories, traditions, prejudices, by the past, then any action springing from it can only create further ignorance and sorrow. If one thinks in terms of a particular race or religion, then such thinking must be limited, separative. Sanely and deliberately, as individuals we can set about to free thought from those causes that bring about limitation. Then what one thinks and does greatly matters. If one acts thoughtlessly then one increases and perpetuates limitation and sorrow. But by becoming aware of the past and the causes of conditioning, if one is interested and therefore concentrated, one can free thought from its bondages. This demands earnestness and integral awareness. Also you are the world, and by your particular action or inaction, you can increase or help to diminish ignorance. Questioner: By being ambitious do I destroy my purpose? Krishnamurti: If our purpose is the outcome of the desire for self-aggrandizement, conscious or unconscious, to achieve it, ambition is necessary. Such ambition, being the expression of craving for personal success, must produce antisocial action and sorrow in relationship. One must grasp the underlying significance of ambition; ambition is an ardent desire for personal distinction and achievement, which in action becomes competitive and ruthless. We give such importance to self-expression, without fully and deeply understanding what it is that is being expressed. In modern society to be ambitiously self-expressive is considered not to be antisocial and is even honoured. This form of ambition is condemned by those who are spiritually ambitious; that is, they condemn worldliness but yet they crave for achievement, success, in other spheres. Both forms of ambition are the same, both imply the expansion of the I, the self. So unless we grasp the meaning of self-expression, its purpose, and its action, merely to aspire towards an ideal becomes a subtle form of self-aggrandizement. Unless we see the inward significance of craving, mere outward legislation and religious promises cannot curb the desire for dominance, for personal power, and success. In becoming intensely aware of the process of craving, with its many ambitions and pursuits, there is born not only the will to refrain, but also understanding whose creative expression is not of the self. Questioner: I would like to devote my life to awakening men to a desire for freedom. Your dissertations - writings - seem to be the best instrumentality, or should each develop his own technique? Krishnamurti: Before we awaken another, we must be sure that we ourselves are awake and alert. This does not mean that we must wait until we are free. We are free insofar as we begin to understand and transcend the limitations of thought. Before one begins to preach awareness and freedom to another, which is fairly easy, one must begin with oneself. Instead of converting others to our particular form of limitation we must begin to free ourselves from the pettiness and narrowness of our own thoughts. Questioner: You said, if I remember rightly, that we must tackle the problem of inner insufficiency. How can one tackle that problem? Krishnamurti: Why does one accumulate things, property, and so on? In oneself there is poverty and so one tries to enrich oneself through worldly things; this enrichment of oneself brings social disorder and misery. Observing this, certain states and religious sects prohibit individuals from possessing property and being worldly, but this inner poverty, this aching insufficiency still continues, and it must be filled. So thought seeks and craves for enrichment in other directions. If we do not find enrichment through possessions, we try to seek it in relationship or in ideas, which leads-to many kinds of delusion. So long as there is craving, there must be this painful insufficiency; without understanding the process of craving, the cause, we try to deal with the effect, insufficiency, and get lost in its intricacies. By becoming aware of the fallacy of accumulative sufficiency, thought begins to free itself of those possessions which it has accumulated for itself through fear of incompleteness. Completeness, wholeness, is not the aggregation of many parts or the expansion of the self; it is to be realized through understanding and love. Questioner: Will you explain again the relationship between awareness and self-analysis? Krishnamurti: I thought I explained this last Sunday, but that was a week ago. For most people it is difficult to concentrate with interest, for more than half an hour or so. Added to this difficulty many are anxious to take notes. Unless they are experts they cannot listen with attention and at the same time take notes. These talks will be printed, so it is more important to listen now than to take notes. You would not be taking notes if you were interested, listening to a friend. The purpose of these talks has been, not to give a system of thought, but to help each one of us to become aware of ourselves, of our daily action and relationship, and thus naturally discern our prejudices, fears, cravings; through this awareness, there is a natural concentration, induced by interest, which brings about the will to refrain; this will is not the result of mere fear and control but of understanding. July 14, 1940 SAROBIA NOTES ON SAROBIA DISCUSSIONS 1940 Opinions, ideologies, and theories, are dividing the world; no agreement is possible as long as we cling to them in any form whatsoever, for they breed thoughtlessness and obstinacy. Agreement is only possible when we have disentangled thought from them, and experience for ourselves. We cannot agree if our thought is perverted; genuine, direct experience, cannot create contention. To be capable of an original experience we must slough off the many bondages, the limiting influences, on our thoughts and feelings, and we shall attempt to do this during this gathering. This is essential and it is only possible if each one of us becomes aware, and understands the component parts that go to create our background, the I. We must have knowledge about the material before we can transform it. The material is the intellectual, emotional state of our being, also the religious, artistic, scientific, physical. Any form of limitation must be a hindrance to completeness. For this attempt, deep and wide intelligence is necessary. Intelligence is the discovery, by each one, of what is of primary importance and the capacity to pursue it. If one pursues the path of knowledge - what must I know - one has to submit to authority, which must engender fear and various forms of idolatry; then masters, guides, intermediaries, priests, in different forms, become necessary. This path is the way of the intellect and any action that comes from the mere pursuit of knowledge must be imitative and not liberating. For then action must conform to a preconceived pattern or knowledge which hinders direct experience. But if we put to ourselves this question, what can I do, then direct experience is knowledge and this knowledge is not a limiting process. With action comes knowledge which is not imitative, and so is liberating. The pursuit of what can I know destroys self-reliance, but the pursuit of what can I do creates self-reliance which is essential for the comprehension of reality, what can I do with regard to life - things, people, and ideas. Greed in its many forms puts man against man, bringing disunion and contention. Balance, co-ordination, is necessary for completeness; mere control or denial of the objects of craving does not free thought from greed, envy. Only through understanding the process of craving, by becoming aware of it, is there a possibility of thought freeing itself from it. Awareness is not mere analysis or self-examination. Meditation is interested concentration, the awareness in which the conflict of opposites ceases. Greed breeds envy and hate. Imitation is the result of envy. Our social structure is based on envy and imitation. One of the main causes of division in society is envy and the craving for success; each is imitating the one above him. Many of us desire to belong to the socially elect. This imitative process keeps the social division going from generation to generation. This same attitude and action exist in the so-called spiritual realm. There too we think in terms of progressive hierarchical achievement. Such attitude is born of greed and envy, which produces imitation and fosters fear; the idea that one day you will become a Master or a higher Being is similar to your becoming one day a Knight or a Duke. It is repulsive and not ennobling to a man of thought. There is expansion, growth, in greed and envy but not in freedom from them. There may be growth or evolution of the outer, of the periphery, but not of what is true. The freedom from greed and envy is not progressive; you are either free or not free from them. This freedom is not the result of evolution, growth. If we understand need, utterly dissociated from greed, craving, and envy, then social and personal conflicts cease, then thought is free from worldliness. What can I do about my needs? The answer will be found when we put to ourselves the question: How is thought to free itself of greed, from the very centre and not merely from the outside? First one must be conscious or aware of being greedy or envious or imitative; then be aware also of its opposite reactions. That is, be aware of the very strong will of outgoing desires, cultivated through generations, which has a very strong momentum; and also become aware of the will to refrain, to deny, which has also been cultivated through moral and religious injunctions. Our mind is the battleground of these two opposing forces, of want and non-want. We hope by pursuing and cultivating an opposite we shall transcend all opposites; that which is achieved through the cultivation of the opposites is still within the opposite, though one may think that the state one has achieved has transcended the opposites. There is duality, good and evil, greed and non-greed. Being greedy, to cultivate its opposite is not freedom from greed, nor does thought transcend an opposite by the cultivation of its opposite. Thought can only free itself from the opposites, duality, when it is not caught up in them and is capable of understanding what is, without the reaction of the opposite. That is, being envious, to cultivate its opposite does not free thought from envy, but if we do not react in opposition to it, but are capable of understanding the process of envy itself, then there is a lasting freedom from it. In the very centre there is a freedom from greed and not merely from the outside.... This experience is truly religious and all experiences of opposites are non-religious. All comparative change is a change in resistance; all comparative thinking and acting do not free thought from its limiting influences. Freedom from greed, envy, imitation, lies not in the mere change of the outside, but in understanding and transcending the will of outgoing desires, which brings lasting transformation in the very centre itself.... Relationship with people divides itself - though there is no such real division - as superficial and deep; as superficial contact and contact of interest and affection. Love is hedged about with fear, possessiveness, jealousy, and with peculiar tendencies inherited and acquired. We have to become aware of these barriers and we can become aware of them most poignantly and significantly in relationship, whether superficial or deep. In relationship the I generally forms the centre and from this, action radiates. There cannot be compassion if thought is perverted by partisanship, by hate, by prejudices of class, of religion, of race, and so on. All relationship, if allowed, becomes a process of self-revelation; but most of us do not allow ourselves to discover what we are, as this involves pain. In all relationship there is the I and the other; the other may be one or the many, the society, the world. Can there be individuality in the widest and deepest sense, if one belongs to society? What is society? The many, cemented together through necessity, convenience, affection, greed, envy, fear, standards, values, imitation, that is, essentially through craving; the many with their peculiar organizations and institutions, religions and moralities. If one is born a Hindu one is brought up in a certain social and religious environment, with its special dogmas and prejudices. As long as one remains conditioned as a Hindu, one has consciously identified oneself with a particular race, a class, a set of ideas, and so one is really not an individual. Though within that limited conditioning, called Hinduism, one may struggle to achieve, to create; though one may have a func- tional purpose which gives a sense of independence, utility, importance, yet within the circle of its conditioned influence there can be no true individuality. The world is broken up into these different forms of restricting groups, Hindu, English, German, Chinese, and so on, each fighting and killing or coercing the other. It is possible to be a true individual in the highest sense, only if one is not identified with any special conditioning. The conflict of society is between those who are liberating themselves from the mass, from a particular identification, and those who are still part of a particular group. Those who escape from particular influences and limitations are soon deified or put in prison or neglected. Relationship is a process of self-revelation and liberation. To inquire within the circle of limitation about the soul, reality, God, immortality, is vain, for these words, images, and ideas, belong to the world of hate, greed, fear, craving. When one has liberated oneself from society, group, race, family, and from all separative conditioning, and has become an undivided, integral being the problems which now torment the citizens of various particularized states will have utterly lost their significance. As long as man belongs to particular groups, classes, creeds, there cannot be love, there must be antagonism, war. Individual thought is influenced, limited, by society, by inherited and acquired tendencies. These tendencies are revealed in relationship, superficial and intimate. By becoming aware of them and not through mere self-analysis does thought free itself without falling into other forms of narrowness, pettiness. This requires interested watchfulness and clear discernment. This discernment is not comparative, nor is it the result of choice. Intellect, the instrument of craving, is itself narrow, conditioned, and therefore what it chooses is bound to be also limited. We need things for our physical existence, this need is natural and not harmful, but when things become psychological necessities, then begin greed, envy, imitation, from which conflict and other unnatural desires ensue. If we "need" people, then there is a dependence upon them. This dependence shows itself in possessiveness, fear, domination. When we use people, as we use inanimate things, consciously or unconsciously, to satisfy our craving for comfort or security, true human relationship ceases. Then relationship, superficial or deep, is no longer a process of self-revelation or of liberation. Love is the only lasting answer to our human problems. Do not divide love artificially as the love of God and the love of man. There is only love, but love is hedged about by various barriers. Compassion, forgiveness, generosity, and kindliness cannot exist if there is no love. Without love, all virtues become cruel and destructive. Hate, envy, ill will, prevent completeness of thought-emotion, and in this completeness alone can there be compassion, forgiveness. Relationship acts as a mirror to reflect all the states of our being, if we allow it; but we do not allow it as we want to conceal ourselves; revelation is painful. In relationship, if we become aware, both the unconscious and the conscious states are revealed. This self-revelation ceases when we "use" people as needs, when we "depend" upon them, when we "possess" them. Mostly relationship is used to cover our inner poverty; we try to enrich this psychological poverty by clinging to each other, flattering each other, limiting love to each other, and so on. There is conflict in relationship, but instead of understanding its cause and so transcending it, we try to escape from it and seek gratification elsewhere. We use our relationship with people, with society, as we use things, to cover up shallowness. How is one to overcome this shallowness? All overcoming is never transcending, for that which is overcome, only takes another form. Poverty of being is revealed when we try to overcome it by covering it up with possessions, with the worship of success, and even with virtues. Then things, property, come to have great significance; then class, social position, country, pride of race, assume great importance, and have to be maintained at all costs; then name, family, and their continuance, become vital. Or we try to cover up this emptiness with ideas, beliefs, creeds, fancies; then opinion, goodwill, and experience of others, take on powerful import; then ceremonies, priests, masters, saviours, become essential, and destroy self-reliance; then authority is worshipped. Thus the fear of what one is creates illusion, and poverty of being continues. But if one becomes intensely aware of these indications in oneself, both in the conscious and the unconscious, then through strenuous discernment there comes about a different state which has no relation to the poverty of being. To overcome shallowness is to continue to be shallow. Self-analysis and awareness are two different things; the one is morbid. but awareness is joyous. Self-analysis takes place after action is past: out of that analysis mind creates a pattern to which a future action is forced to conform. Thus there comes about a rigidity of thought and action. Self-analysis is death and awareness is life. Self-analysis only leads to the creation of pattern and imitation, and so there is no release from bondage, from frustration. Awareness is at the moment of action; if one is aware, then one understands comprehensively, as a whole, the cause and effect of action, the imitative process of fear, its reactions, and so on. This awareness frees thought from those causes and influences which limit and hold it, without creating further bondages, and so thought become deeply pliable which is to be deathless. Self-analysis or introspection takes place before or after action, thus preparing for the future and limiting it. Awareness is a constant process of liberation. We should approach life, not from the point of what can I know but what can I do. The path of what can I know leads to the worship of authority, fear, and illusion; but in understanding what can I do, there is self-reliance which alone brings forth wisdom. From what source does our thought process come? Why do I think that I am separate? Am I really separate? Before we can transcend what we are, we must first understand ourselves. So what am I? Can I know this for myself or must I rely for this knowledge on others? To rely on others is to wallow in opinion; the acceptance of opinion, information, is based on like and dislike which lead to illusion. Am I really separate? Or is there only a variation, a modification of a central craving or fear, expressing itself in different ways? Does the expression of the same fundamental craving, ignorance, hate, fear, affection, in different ways make us truly different, truly individuals? As long as we are expressing ignorance, however differently, we are essentially the same. Then why do we separate ourselves into nations, classes, families, and why do we concern ourselves with our soul, our immortality, our unity? As long as we cling to the separateness of the expression of ignorance, of fear, there can never be the lasting unity of mankind. Separateness is an illusion and a vanity. To think of myself as separate, different in consciousness, is to identify myself with fundamental ignorance; to cling to my achievement, my work, my soul, is to continue in illusion. What are we? We are the result of our parents, who were, like their parents, influenced and limited by climatic, social, and psychological values based on ignorance, fear, and craving. Our parents passed on to us those values. We are the result of the past; our forefathers' beliefs, ideas, hopes, in combination with the present action and reaction, are our thoughts. We cherish illusion and try to find unity, hope, love, in it. Illusion can never create human unity nor awaken that love which alone can bring peace. Love cannot be transmitted, but we can experience its immensity if we can become free of our prejudices, fears, greed, and craving. We are concerned with things, people, and personal continuity. Continuity in different forms; continuity through things, property, family, race, nationality; continuity through ideals, beliefs, dogmas. The craving for personal immortality breeds fear, illusion, and the worship of authority. When the craving for personal immortality ceases, in all its forms, there is a state of deathlessness. What is our mind? What is our thought process? What are the contents of our consciousness and how have they been created? perception, contact, sensation, and reflection, lead to the process of like and dislike, attachment and non-attachment, self and not-self. Mind is the outcome of craving; and intellect, the power to discern, to choose, is influenced and limited by the past in combination with the present action and reaction. Thus the instrument of discernment itself is cunningly perverted. Thought must free itself from the past, from the accumulations of self-protective instincts; intellect must make straight its own wanton crookedness. What is the origin of our thinking? Seeing, contacting, sensing, reflecting. Like and dislike, pleasure and pain, the many pairs of opposites are the outcome of reflection; the desire for the continuance of the one and the denial of the other is part of reflection. Sensation, craving, dominates most of our thinking. Our thought is influenced and limited by the past generations of people who in their suffering, in their joys, in their aspirations, in their escapes, in their fear of death in their longing for continuity, created ideas, images, symbols, which gave them hope, assurance. These they have passed on to us. When we use the word soul, it is their word to convey that intense longing for continuity, for something permanent, enduring beyond the transiency of the physical, of the material. Because we also crave for certainty, security, continuity, we cling to that word and all that it represents. So our consciousness - both the conscious and the sub-conscious -is the repository of ideas, values, images, symbols of the race, of the past generations. Our daily thought and action are controlled by the past, by the concealed motives, memories, and hidden cravings. In all this there is no freedom but only continued imitation caused by fear. Within consciousness, there are two opposing forces at work which create duality - want and non-want, pain and pleasure, outgoing desires and refraining desires. Instincts, motives, values, prejudices, passions, control and direct the conscious. Is there, in consciousness, any part that is not contaminated by the past? Is there anything original, uncorrupted, in our consciousness? Have we not to free thought from the past, from instincts, from symbols, images, in order to understand that which is incorruptible, untrammelled? The known cannot understand the unknown; death cannot understand life. Light and darkness cannot exist together. God, reality, is not to be realized through the known. What we are is of the past in combination with the present action and reaction according to various forms of influence, which narrows down thought, and through this limitation we try to understand that which is beyond all transiency. Can thought free itself from the personal, from the I? Can thought make itself anew, original, capable of direct experience? If it can, then there is the realization of the eternal. What is the content of consciousness? Both the conscious and the subconscious tendencies, values, memories, fears, and so on. The past, the hidden causes, control the present. Is there not in us, in spite of this limited consciousness, a force, a something, that is unconditioned? To assume that there is, is a part of our past influence; we have been brought up, through many generations, to think and believe and hope that there is. This tradition, this memory, is part of our racial heredity, part of our ignorance, but also merely to deny it, is not to discover for ourselves if there is. To assert or to deny, to believe or not to believe, that there is an uncontaminated, spiritual essence, unconditioned in us, is to place a barrier to our discovery of what is true. There is suffering, conflict, between want and non-want, between the will of outgoing desires and the will to restrain. Of this conflict we are all conscious. When we do not understand the makeup of our background, the cause of our tendencies and limitations, experience only further strengthens them; but in becoming aware of them in our daily thought and action, experience acts as a liberating force. Neither postponement nor trying to seek an immediate solution to our human problems can free thought from bondage. Postponement implies thoughtlessness and this sluggishness produces comforting theories, beliefs, and further complication and suffering; and if thought is concerned with the immediate now, with the idea that we live but once, then there is restlessness, haste, and a shallowness, that destroys understanding. But without imagining a future or clinging to the past, we can understand the fullness of each flowing moment. Then what is, is immortal. Masters, gurus, teachers, cannot help to free thought from its own self-imposed bondage and suffering; neither ceremonies, nor priests, nor organizations, can liberate thought from its attachments, fears, cravings; these may force it into a new mould and shape it, but thought can free itself only through its own critical awareness and self-reliance. Extrasensory perception, clairvoyance, occult powers, cannot free thought from confusion and misery; sensitive awareness of our thoughts and motives, from which spring our speech and action, is the beginning of lasting understanding and love. Mere self-control, discipline, self-punishment, or renunciation, cannot liberate thought; but constant awareness and pliability give clarity and strength. Only in becoming aware of the cause of ignorance, in understanding the process of craving and its dual and opposing values, is there freedom from suffering. This discerning awareness must begin in our life of relationship with things, people, and ideas, with our own hidden thoughts and daily action. The way we think makes our life either complete or contradictory and unbalanced. Through awareness of craving, with its complex process, there comes an understanding; which brings detachment and serenity. Detachment or serenity is not an end in itself. In this world of frenzied buying and selling, whose economy is based on craving, unless thought is persistently aware, greed and envy bring the confusing and conflicting problems of possessions, attachment, and competition. Our private thoughts and motives can bring either harmony in our relationship or disturbance and pain. It depends on each one what he makes of relationship with another or with society. There can never be self-isolation, however much one may crave for it; relationship is ever continuous; to be is to be related. The trembling and wavering thought is difficult to steady; mere control does not lead to understanding. Interest alone creates natural, spontaneous adjustment and control. If thought becomes aware of itself, it will perceive that it goes from one superficial interest to another, and merely to withdraw from one and try to concentrate on another does not lead to understanding and love. Thought must become aware of the causes of its various interests, and by understanding them there comes a natural concentrated interest in that which is most intelligent and true. Thought moves from certainty to certainty, from the known to the known, from one substitution to another, and thus it is never still, it is ever pursuing, ever wandering; this chattering of the mind destroys creative understanding and love, but these cannot be craved for. They come into being when thought becomes aware of its own process, of its cravings, fears, substitutions, justifications, and illusions. Through constant, discerning awareness, thought naturally becomes creative and still. In that stillness there is immeasurable bliss. We have all many and peculiar problems of our own; our craving to solve them only hinders the comprehension of the problems. We must have that rare disinterested awareness which alone brings understanding. When death causes us great sorrow, in our eagerness to overcome that sorrow, we accept theories, beliefs, in the hope of finding comfort which only becomes a bondage. This comfort, though satisfying for a passing moment, does not free thought from sorrow, it is only covered up and its cause continues. Likewise when one feels frustrated, instead of craving for fulfilment, one must understand what it is that feels itself frustrated. There will be frustration as long as there is craving; instead of understanding what is deeply implied in craving, we struggle anxiously to fulfil ourselves, and so the ache of frustration continues. These discussions are not meant to be for intellectual amusement. We have discussed together in order to clear our thought so as to be able to apply ourselves more acutely and disinterestedly to the problems of our everyday life. It is only through disinterested application, through strenuous and discerning awareness, and not through following this or that belief, ideology, leader or group, that thought can liberate itself from those self-imposed bondages and influences. Being incomplete, one craves for completeness, which is only a substitution, but if one understood the causes of incompleteness, then there comes a freedom through that understanding, the ecstasy of which is not to be described or compared. We must begin low to climb high, we must begin now to go far. We all have to live in this world; we cannot escape from it. We must understand it and not run away from it into illusory comforts, hopeful theories, and fascinating dreams. We are the world and we must intelligently and creatively understand it. We have created this world of devastating hate, this world that is torn apart by beliefs and ideologies, by religions and gnawing cults, by leaders and their followers, by economic barriers and nationalities. We have created this world through our individual craving and fear, through our ambition and ignorance. We ourselves must change radically, free ourselves of these bondages, so that we can help to create a truly sane and happy world. Then let us live happily without attachment and envy; let us love without possessiveness and be without ill will towards anyone; do not let us separate ourselves into narrow and conflicting groups. Thus though our own strenuous and constant awareness, will our thought be transformed from the limited into the complete. OJAI 1ST PUBLIC TALK 14TH MAY, 1944 Amidst so much confusion and sorrow it is essential to find creative understanding of ourselves, for without it no relationship is possible. Only through right thinking can there be understanding. Neither leaders nor a new set of values nor a blue print can bring about this creative understanding; only through our own right effort can there be right understanding. How is it possible then to find this essential understanding? From where shall we start to discover what is real, what is true, in all this conflagration, confusion and misery? Is it not important to find out for ourselves how to think rightly about war and peace, about economic and social conditions, about our relationship to our fellowmen? Surely there is a difference between right thinking and right or conditioned thought. We may be able to produce in ourselves imitatively right thought, but such thought is not right thinking. Right or conditioned thought is uncreative. But when we know how to think rightly for ourselves, which is to be living, dynamic, then it is possible to bring about a new and happier culture. I would like during these talks to develop what seems to me to be the process of right thinking so that each one of us is truly creative, and not merely enclosed in a series of ideas or prejudices. How shall we then begin to discover for ourselves what is right thinking? Without right thinking there is no possibility of happiness. Without right thinking our actions, our behaviour, our affections have no basis. Right thinking is not to be discovered through books, through attending a few talks, or by merely listening to some people's ideas of what right thinking is. Right thinking is to be discovered for ourselves through ourselves. Right thinking comes with self-knowledge. Without self-knowledge there is no right thinking. Without knowing yourself, what you think and what you feel cannot be true. The root of all understanding lies in understanding yourself. If you can find out what are the causes of your thought-feeling, and from that discovery know how to think-feel, then there is the beginning of understanding. Without knowing yourself, the accumulation of ideas, the acceptance of beliefs and theories have no basis. Without knowing yourself you will ever be caught in uncertainty, depending on moods, on circumstances. Without knowing yourself fully you cannot think rightly. Surely this is obvious. If I do not know what my motives, my intentions, my background, my private thoughts feelings are how can I agree or disagree with another? How can I estimate or establish my relationship with another? How can I discover anything of life if I do not know myself? And to know myself is an enormous task requiring constant observation, meditative awareness. This is our first task even before the problem of war and peace, of economic and social conflicts, of death and immortality. These questions will arise, they are bound to arise, but in discovering ourselves, in understanding ourselves these questions will be rightly answered. So those who are really serious in these matters must begin with themselves in understanding yourself you cannot understand the whole. Self-knowledge is the beginning of wisdom. Self-knowledge is cultivated through the individual's search of himself. I am not putting the individual in opposition to the mass. They are not antithetical. You, the individual, are the mass, the result of the mass. In us, as you will discover if you go into it deeply, are both the many and the particular. It is as a stream that is constantly flowing, leaving little eddies and these eddies we call individuality but they are the result of this constant flow of water. Your thoughts-feelings, those mental-emotional activities, are they not the result of the past, of what we call the many? Have you not similar thoughts-feelings as your neighbour? So when I talk of the individual I am not putting him in opposition to the mass. On the contrary, I want to remove this antagonism This opposing antagonism between the mass and the you, the individual, creates confusion and conflict, ruthlessness and misery. But if we can understand how the individual, the you, is part of the whole, not only mystically but actually, then we shall free ourselves happily and spontaneously from the greater part of the desire to compete, to succeed, to deceive, to oppress, to be ruthless, or to become a follower or a leader. Then we will regard the problem of existence quite differently. And it is important to understand this deeply. As long as we regard ourselves as individuals apart from the whole, competing, obstructing, opposing, sacrificing the many for the particular or the particular for the many, all those problems that arise out of this conflicting antagonism will have no happy and enduring solution; for they are the result of wrong thinking-feeling. Now, when I talk about the individual I am not putting him in opposition to the mass. What am I? I am a result; I am the result of the past, of innumerable layers of the past, of a series of causes- effects. And how can I be opposed to the whole, the past, when I am the result of all that? If I, who am the mass, the whole, if I do not understand myself, not only what is outside my skin, objectively, but subjectively, inside the skin, how can I understand another, the world? To understand oneself requires kindly and tolerant detachment. If you do not understand yourself you will not understand anything else; you may have great ideals, beliefs and formulations but they will have no reality. They will be delusions. So you must know yourself to understand the present and through the present the past. From the known present the hidden layers of the past are discovered and this discovery is liberating and creative. To understand ourselves requires objective, kindly, dispassionate study of ourselves, ourselves being the organism as a whole: our body, our feelings, our thoughts. They are not separate, they are interrelated. It is only when we understand the organism as a whole that we can go beyond and discover still further, greater, vaster things. But with out this primary understanding, without laying right foundation for right thinking, we cannot proceed to greater heights. To bring about in each one of us the capacity to discover what is true becomes essential, for what is discovered is liberating, creative. For what is discovered is true. That is, if we merely conform to a pattern of what we ought to be or yield to a craving, it does produce certain results which are conflicting, confusing, but in the process of our study of ourselves we are on a voyage of self-discovery, which brings joy. There is a surety in negative rather than positive thinking-feeling. We have assumed in a positive manner what we are, or we have cultivated positively our ideas on other people's or on our own formulations. And hence we depend on authority, on circumstances, hoping thereby to establish a series of positive ideas and actions. Whereas if you examine you will see there is agreement in negation; there is surety in negative thinking which is the highest form of thinking. When once you have found true negation and agreement in negation then you can build further in positiveness. The discovery that lies in self-knowledge is arduous, for the beginning and the end is in us. To seek happiness, love, hope, outside of us leads to illusion, to sorrow; to find happiness, peace, joy within, requires self-knowledge. We are slaves to the immediate pressures and demands of the world and we are drawn away by all that and dissipate our energies in all that and so we have little time to study ourselves. To be deeply cognizant of our motives, of our desires to achieve, to become, demands constant, inward awareness. Without understanding ourselves superficial devices of economic and social reform, however necessary and beneficial, will not produce unity in the world but only greater confusion and misery. Many of us think that economic reform of one kind or another will bring peace to the world; or social reform or one specialized religion conquering all others will bring happiness to man. I believe there are something like eight hundred or more religious sects in this country, each competing, proselytizing. Do you think competitive religion will bring peace, unity and happiness to mankind? Do you think any specialized religion, whether it be Hinduism, Buddhism or Christianity will bring peace? Or must we set aside all specialized religions and discover reality for ourselves? When we see the world blasted by bombs and feel the horrors that are going on in it; when the world is broken up by separate religions, nationalities, races, ideologies, what is the answer to all this?We may not just go on living briefly and dying and hope some good will come out of it. We cannot leave it to others to bring happiness and peace to mankind; for mankind is ourselves, each one of us. Where does the solution lie, except in ourselves? To discover the real answer requires deep thought-feeling and few of us are willing to solve this misery. If each one of us considers this problem as springing from within and is not merely driven helplessly along in this appalling confusion and misery, then we shall find a simple and direct answer. In studying and so in understanding ourselves there will come clarity and order. And there can be clarity only in self-knowledge which nurtures right thinking. Right thinking comes before right action. If we become self-aware and so cultivate self-knowledge from which springs right thinking, then we shall create a mirror in ourselves which will reflect, without distortion, all our thoughts-feelings. To be so self-aware is extremely difficult as our mind is used to wandering and being distracted. Its wanderings, its distractions are of its own interests and creations. In understanding these - not merely pushing them aside - comes self-knowledge and right thinking. it is only through inclusion and not by exclusion, not through approbation or condemnation or comparison, that understanding comes. Questioner: What is my right in my relationship to the world? Krishnamurti: It is an interesting and instructive question. The questioner seems to put himself in opposition to the world and then asks himself what are his rights in relationship to it. Is he separate from the world? Is he not part of the world? Has he any right apart from the whole? Will he by setting himself apart understand the world? By giving importance to and strengthening the part will he comprehend the whole? The part is not the whole but to understand the whole the part must not set itself in opposition to it. In understanding the part the whole is comprehended. When the individual is in opposition to the world then he claims his rights; but why should he put himself in opposition to it? The attitude of opposition, of the I and the not I, prevents comprehension. Is he not part of the whole? Are not his problems the problems of the world? Are not his conflicts, confusions and miseries those of his neighbour, near or far? When he becomes aware of himself he will know that he is part of the whole. He is the result of the past with its fears, hopes, greeds, aspirations and so on. This result seeks a right in its relationship to the whole. Has it any right so long as it is envious, greedy, ruthless? It is only when he does not regard himself as an individual but as a result and a part of the whole that he will know that freedom in which there is no opposition, duality. But as long as he is of the world with its ignorance, cruelty, sensuality, then he has no relationship apart from it. We should not use the word individual at all, nor the words mine and yours because they have no meaning, fundamentally. I am the result of my father and my mother and the environmental influence of the country and society. If I put myself in opposition there is no understanding; the combination of opposites does not produce understanding. But if I become aware and observe the ways of duality then I will begin to feel the new freedom from opposites. The world is divided into the opposites, the white and the dark, the good and the bad, mine and yours and so on. In duality there is no understanding, each antithesis contains its own opposite. Our difficulty lies in thinking of these problems anew, to think of the world and yourself from a different point of view altogether, observing silently, without identifying and comparing. The ideas which you think are the result of what others have thought in combination with the present. Real uniqueness lies in the discovery of what is true and being in that discovery. This uniqueness, joy and liberation which comes from this discovery is not to be found in the pride of possessions, of name, physical attributes and tendencies. True freedom comes through self-knowledge which brings about right thinking; through self-knowledge there is the discovery of the true which alone puts an end to our ignorance and sorrow. Through self-awareness and self-knowledge peace is found and in that serenity there is immortality. OJAI 2ND PUBLIC TALK 21ST MAY, 1944 Last Sunday I was trying to explain what is right thinking and how to set about it. I said that unless there is self-awareness, self-knowledge of all the motives, intentions and instincts, thought-feeling has no true foundation and that without this foundation there is no right thinking. Self-knowledge is the beginning of understanding. And as we are - the world is. That is, if we are greedy, envious, competitive, our society will be competitive, envious, greedy, which brings misery and war. The State is what we are. To bring about order and peace, we must begin with ourselves and not with society, not with the State, for the world is ourselves. And it is not selfish to think that each one must first understand and change himself to help the world. You cannot help another unless you know yourself. Through self-awareness one will find that in oneself is the whole. If we would bring about a sane and happy society we must begin with ourselves and not with another, not outside of ourselves, but with ourselves. Instead of giving importance to names, labels, terms - which bring confusion - we ought to rid the mind of these and look at ourselves dispassionately. Until we understand ourselves and go beyond ourselves, exclusiveness in every form will exist. We see about us and in ourselves exclusive desires and actions which result in narrow relationship. Before we can understand what kind of effort to make in order to know ourselves, we must become aware of the kind of effort we are now making. Our effort now consists, does it not, in constant becoming, in escaping from one opposite to another? We live in a series of conflicts of action and response, of wanting and not wanting. Our effort is spent in becoming and not becoming. We live in a state of duality. How does this duality arise? If we can understand this then perhaps we can transcend it and discover a different state of being. How does this painful conflict arise within us between good and bad, hope and fear, love and hate, the I and the not I? Are they not created by our craving to become? This craving expresses itself in sensuality, in worldliness or in seeking personal fame or immortality. In trying to become do we not create the opposite? Unless we understand this conflict of the opposites, all effort will bring about only different and changing sorrowful conditions. So we must use right means to transcend this conflict. Wrong means will produce wrong ends; only right means will produce right ends. If we want peace in the world we must use peaceful methods and yet we seem invariably to use wrong methods hoping to produce right ends. Unless we understand this problem of opposites with its conflicts and miseries, our efforts will be in vain. Through self -awareness, craving to become, the cause of conflict, must be observed and understood; but understanding ceases if there is identification, if there is acceptance or denial or comparison. With kindly dispassion craving must be deeply understood and so transcended. For a mind that is caught in craving, individuality, cannot comprehend reality. Mind must be extremely still and this stillness cannot be induced, disciplined, compelled through any technique. This stillness comes about only through the understanding of conflict. And you cannot compel conflict to cease. You cannot by will bring it to an end. You may cover it up, hide it away, but it will come up again and again. A disease must be cured but to treat merely the symptom is of little use. Only when we become aware of the cause of conflict, understand and transcend it, can we experience that which is. To become aware is to think out, feel out the opposites as much as you can, as widely and deeply as possible, without acceptance or denial, with choiceless awareness. In this extensional awareness you will find there comes a new kind of will or a new feeling, a new understanding which is not begotten out of the opposites. Right thinking ceases when thought-feeling is bound, held in the opposites. If you become aware of your thoughts and feelings, your actions and responses, you will find that they are caught in the conflict of opposites. As each thought-feeling arises think it out, feel it out, fully, without identification. This extensional awareness can take place only when you are not denying, when you are not rejecting nor accepting nor comparing. Through this extensional awareness there will be discovered a state of being which is free from the conflict of all opposites. This creative understanding is to be discovered and it is this understanding which frees the mind from craving. And it is this extensional awareness in which there is no becoming, with its hope and fear, achievement and failure, with its self-enclosing pain and pleasure, that will free thought-feeling from ignorance and sorrow. Questioner: How is it possible to learn real concentration? Krishnamurti: In this question many things are involved so one must be patient and listen to the whole of it. What is real meditation?Is it not the beginning of self-knowledge? Without self-knowledge can there be true concentration, right meditation? Meditation is not possible unless you begin to know yourself. To know yourself you must become meditatively aware which requires a peculiar kind of concentration; not the concentration of exclusiveness which most of us indulge in when we think we are meditating. Right meditation is the understanding of oneself, with all one's problems of uncertainty and conflict, misery and affection. I suppose some of us have meditated or have tried to concentrate. What happens when we are trying to concentrate? Many thoughts come, one after the other, crowding, uninvited. We try to fix our thought upon one object or idea or feeling and try to exclude all other thoughts and feelings. This process of concentration or one-pointedness is generally considered necessary for meditation. This exclusive method will inevitably fail for it maintains the conflict of the opposites; it may momentarily succeed but as long as duality exists in thought-feeling concentration must lead to narrowness, obstinacy and illusion. Control of thought does not bring about right thinking; mere control of thought is not right meditation. Surely we must first find out why the mind wanders at all. It wanders or is repetitive either because of interest or of habit or of laziness or because thought-feeling has not completed itself. If it is of interest then you will not be able to subdue it; though you may succeed momentarily, thought will return to its interests and hence its wanderings. So you must pursue that interest, thinking it out, feeling it out, fully, and thus understand the whole content of that interest however trivial and stupid. If this wandering is the result of habit then it is very indicative; it indicates, does it not, that your mind is caught up in mere habit, in mere patterns of thought and so is not thinking at all? A mind that is caught up in habit or in laziness indicates that it is functioning mechanically, thoughtlessly, and of what value is thoughtlessness, though well under control? When thought is repetitive then it indicates that thought-feeling has not fulfilled itself and till it has it will go on recurring. Through becoming aware of your thoughts-feelings you will find there is a general disturbance, a stirring up; from the awareness of the causes of disturbance there comes a self-knowledge and right thinking which are the basis for true meditation. Without self-knowledge, self-awareness, there is no meditation, and without meditation there is no self-knowledge. True concentration comes with self-knowledge. You can create noble fixations and wholly be absorbed in them but this does not bring about understanding. This does not lead to the discovery of the real. It may produce kindliness or certain desirable qualities but noble fixations only further strengthen illusion, and a mind that is caught in the opposites cannot understand the whole. Instead of developing the exclusive, contracting process let your thought-feeling flow, understand every flutter, every movement of it. Think it out, feel it out as widely and deeply as possible. Then you will discover that out of this awareness there comes extensional concentration, a meditation which is no longer a becoming but a being. But this extensional awareness is strenuous, to be carried on throughout the day and not only during a set period. You must become strenuous and experiment for it is not to be picked out of books or through attending meetings or following a technique. It comes through self-awareness, through self-knowledge. The real significance of what meditation is becomes of enormous importance. This process of self-awareness is not to be limited to certain periods of the day but to be continuous. Out of this meditative awareness comes deep stillness in which alone there is the real. This stillness of the mind is not the result of exclusiveness, of contraction, of setting aside every thought and feeling and concentrating on making the mind still. You can enforce stillness on the mind but it is the stillness of death, uncreative, stagnant and in that state it is not possible to discover that which is. Questioner: How is one to be free from any problem which is disturbing? Krishnamurti: To understand any problem we must give our undivided attention to it. Both the conscious and the unconscious or the inner mind must take part in solving it, but most of us unfortunately try to dissolve it superficially, that is, with that little part of the mind which we call the conscious mind, with the intellect only. Now our consciousness or our mind-feeling is like an iceberg, the greater part of it hidden deep down, only a fraction of it showing outside. We are acquainted with that superficial layer but it is a confused acquaintance; of the greater, the deep unconscious, the inner part, we are hardly aware. Or, if we are, it becomes conscious through dreams, through occasional intimations but those dreams and hints we translate, interpreting according to our prejudices and to our ever limited intellectual capacities. And so those intimations lose their deep, pure significance. If we wish to really understand our problem then we must first clear up the confusion in the conscious, in the superficial mind, by thinking and feeling it out as widely and intelligently as possible, comprehensively and dispassionately. Then into this conscious clearing, open and alert, the inner mind can project itself. When the contents of the many layers of consciousness have been thus gathered and assimilated, only then does the problem cease to be. Let us take an example. Most of us are educated in nationalistic spirit. We are brought up to love our country in opposition to another; to regard our people as superior to another and so on. This superiority or pride is implanted in the mind from childhood and we accept it, live with it and condone it. With that thin layer which we call the conscious mind let us understand this problem and its deeper significance. We accept it first of all through environmental influences and are conditioned by it. Also this nationalistic spirit feeds our vanity. The assertion that we are of this or that race or country feeds our petty, small, poor egos, puffs them out like sails and we are ready to defend, to kill or be maimed for our country, race and ideology. In identifying ourselves with what we consider to be the greater we hope to become greater. But we still remain poor, it is only the label that looms large and powerful. This nationalistic spirit is used for economic purposes and is used, also, through hatred and fear, to unite one people against another. Thus when we become aware of this problem and its implications we perceive its effects: war, misery, starvation, confusion. In worshipping the part, which is idolatrous, we deny the whole. This denial of human unity breeds endless wars and brutalities, economic and social division and tyranny. We understand all this intellectually, with that thin layer which we call the conscious mind, but we are still caught up in tradition, opinion, convenience, fear and so on. Until the deep layers are exposed and understood we are not free from the disease of nationalism, patriotism. Thus in examining this problem we have cleared the superficial layer of the conscious into which the deeper layers can flow. This flow is made stronger through constant awareness: by watching every response, every stimulation of nationalism or of any other hindrance. Each response however small must be thought out, felt out, widely and deeply. Thus you will soon perceive that the problem is dissolved and the nationalistic spirit has withered away. All conflicts and miseries can be understood and dissolved in this manner: to clear the thin layer of the conscious by thinking out and feeling out the problem as comprehensively as possible; into this clarity, into this comparative quietness, the deeper motives, intentions, fears and so on can project themselves; as they appear examine them, study them and so understand them. Thus the hindrance, the conflict, the sorrow is deeply and wholly understood and dissolved. Questioner: Please elucidate the "surety in negation" idea. You spoke of negative and positive thought. Do you mean when we are positive we make statements that are valueless, because they are tight bound and smug; while when we are negative we are open to thought because we are bankrupt of traditions and able to inquire into the new? Or do you mean we must be positive in that there is no choice between the true and the false and that negation means becoming part of compromise? Krishnamurti: I said that in negation there is surety. Let us expand this idea. When we become aware of ourselves we find that we are in a state of self-contradiction, of wanting and not wanting, of loving and hating and so on. Thoughts and actions born of this self-contradiction are considered to be positive, but is it positive when thought contradicts itself? Because of our religious training we are certain that we must not kill but we find ourselves supporting or finding reasons for killing when the State demands; one thought denies the other and so there is no thinking at all. In a state of self-contradiction thought ceases and there is only ignorance. So let us discover if we think at all or exist in a state of self-contradiction in which thinking ceases to be. If we look into ourselves we realize that we live in a state of contradiction and how can such a state be positive? For that which contradicts itself ceases to be. Not knowing ourselves profoundly how can there be agreement or disagreement, assertion or denial? In this self-contradictory state how can there be surety? How can we in this state assume that we are right or wrong? We cannot assume anything, can we? But our morality, our positive action is based on this self-contradiction and so we are incessantly active, craving for peace and yet creating war, longing for happiness and yet causing sorrow, loving and yet hating. If our thinking is self-contradictory and therefore non-existent there is only one possible approach for understanding, which is the state of non-becoming, a state which may seem to be negation but in which there is the highest possibility. Humility is born of negation and without humility there is no understanding. In negative comprehension we begin to perceive the possibility of surety of agreement and so of greater relationship and of highest thinking. When the mind is creatively empty - not when it is positively directing - there is reality. All great discoveries are born in this creative emptiness and there can only be creative emptiness when self-contradiction ceases. As long as craving exists there will be self-contradiction. Therefore instead of approaching life positively, as most of us do, giving rise to the many miseries, brutalities, conflicts of which we know so well, why not approach it negatively which is not really negation? When I use the terms positive and negative I am not using them in opposition to each other. When we begin to understand what we call the positive, which is the outcome of ignorance, then we shall find that from this is there comes a surety in negation. In trying to understand the ever contradictory nature of the self, of the me and the mine, with its positive craving and denial, pursuit and death, there comes into being the still, creative emptiness. It is not the result of positive or negative action but a state of non-duality. When the mind-heart is still, creatively empty, then only is there reality. Questioner: You said a man who meets anger with anger becomes anger. Do you mean that when we fight cruelty with the weapons of cruelty we too become the enemy; yet if we do not protect ourselves the bandit fells us. Krishnamurti: Surely that thing which you fight you become. (Must we explain this too? All right.) If I am angry and you meet me with anger what is the result - more anger. You have become that which I am. If I am evil and you fight me with evil means then you also become evil, however righteous you may feel. If I am brutal and you use brutal methods to overcome me, then you become brutal like me. And this we have done thousands of years. Surely there is a different approach than to meet hate by hate? If I use violent methods to quell anger in myself then I am using wrong means for a right end and thereby the right end ceases to be. In this there is no understanding; there is no transcending anger. Anger is to be studied tolerantly and understood; it is not to be overcome through violent means. Anger may be the result of many causes and without comprehending them there is no escape from anger. We have created the enemy, the bandit, and through becoming ourselves the enemy in no way brings about an end to enmity. We have to understand the cause of enmity and cease to feed it by our thought, feeling and action. This is an arduous task demanding constant self-awareness and intelligent pliability, for what we are the society, the State is. The enemy and the friend are the outcome of our thought and action. We are responsible for creating enmity and so it is more important to be aware of our own thought and action than to be concerned with the foe and the friend, for right thinking puts an end to division. Love transcends the friend and the enemy. OJAI 3RD PUBLIC TALK 28TH MAY, 1944 In my first talk I tried to explain that right thinking can come only with self-knowledge. Without right thinking you cannot know what is true. Without knowing yourself, your relationship, your action, your every day existence has no true basis. Our existence is a state of opposition and contradiction, and any thought and action that spring from them can never be true. And before we can understand the world, our conduct and relationship with another, we must know ourselves. When the individual puts himself in opposition to the mass he is acting in ignorance, in fear, for he is the result of the mass, he is the result of the past. We cannot separate ourselves or put ourselves in opposition to anything if we wish to understand it. In the second talk we some what touched upon thought putting itself in opposition, thereby creating duality. We should understand this before we begin to be concerned with our every day thought and activity. If we do not understand what it is that brings about this dualism, this instinctive opposition as yours and mine, we shall not understand the meaning of our conflict. We are aware, in our life, of dualism and its constant conflict; wanting and not wanting, heaven and hell, the State and the citizen, light and darkness. Does not dualism arise from craving? In the will to become, to be, is there not also the will of not becoming? In positive craving there is also negation and so thought-feeling is caught up in the conflict of opposites. Through the opposites there is no escape from conflict, from sorrow. The desire to become, without understanding duality, is a vain struggle; the conflict of the opposites ceases if we can grapple with the problem of craving. Craving is the root of all ignorance and sorrow and there is no freedom from ignorance and sorrow save in the abandonment of craving. It is not to be set aside through mere will for will is part of craving; it is not to be set aside through denial for such denial is the outcome of opposites. Craving can be dissolved only through becoming aware of its many ways and expressions; through tolerant observation and understanding it is transcended. In the flame of understanding craving is consumed. Let us examine the desire to become virtuous. Is there virtue when there is consciousness of vice? Do you become virtuous by putting yourself in opposition to vice or is virtue a state which is not anchored in the opposites? Virtue comes into being when there is freedom from opposites. Is generosity, kindliness, love, opposite to greed, envy, hate or is love something that is beyond and above all contradictions? By putting ourselves in opposition to violence, will there be peace? Or is peace something that is beyond, transcending both the opposites? is not true virtue a negation of becoming? Virtue is the freedom from craving. We must become aware of this complex problem of duality through constant watchfulness, not to correct but to understand; for if we do not understand how to cultivate right thinking, from which comes right endeavour, then we shall be continually developing opposites with their endless conflicts. Does right thinking come through the conflict of opposites or does it come into being when the cause of opposites, craving, is thought out, felt out and so understood? Freedom from the opposites is only possible when thought-feeling is able to observe without acceptance, denial or comparison its actions and responses; out of this awareness comes a new feeling, a new understanding which is not anchored in the opposites. Thought-feeling that is caught in duality is not capable of understanding the timeless. So, from the very beginning of our thinking we must lay the right foundation for true endeavour, for right means lead to right ends and wrong means will produce wrong ends. Wrong means will not at any time take us to right ends, only in right means lie right ends. Questioner: I find it extremely difficult to understand myself. How am I to begin? Krishnamurti: Is it not very important that one must understand oneself above everything else? For if we do not understand ourselves we shall not understand anything else for the root of understanding lies in ourselves. In understanding myself, I shall understand my relationship with another, with the world; for in me, as in each one, is the whole; I am the result of the whole, of the past. This concern to understand oneself may appear superficially to be egocentric, selfish, but if you consider it you will see that what each one of us is, the world, the State, society is; and to bring a vital change in the environment, which is essential, each one must begin with himself. In understanding himself and so transforming himself, he will inevitably bring about the necessary and vital change in the State, in the environment. The recognition and understanding of this fact will bring a revolution in our thinking-feeling. The world is a projection of yourself, your problem is the world's problem. With out you, the world is not. What you are the world is; if you are envious, greedy, inimical, competitive, brutal, exclusive, so is society, so is the State. The study of yourself is extremely difficult for you are very complex. You must have immense patience, not lethargic acceptance, but alert, passive capacity for observation and study. To objectify and study that which you are subjectively, inwardly, is very difficult. Most of us are in a whirl of activity, inwardly confused and wandering, torn by many conflicting desires, denying and asserting. How can this enormously complex machine be studied and understood? A machine which is moving very rapidly, revolving at a tremendous speed cannot be studied in detail. It is only when it can be slowed down that you can begin to study it. If you can slow down your thinking-feeling, then you can observe it, just as in a slow motion picture you can study the movement of a horse as it runs or jumps a hurdle. If you stop the machine you cannot understand it, then it becomes merely a dead matter, if it goes too fast you cannot follow it; but to examine it in detail, to understand it thoroughly, it must go slowly, revolve gently. Just so must the mind work to follow each movement of thought-feeling. To observe itself without friction it must slow down. To merely control thought- feeling, to apply a brake to it, is to waste the necessary energy required to understand it; then thought-feeling is more concerned in controlling, dominating, than in thinking out, feeling out, understanding each thought-feeling. Have you ever tried to think out, feel out each thought-feeling? How extremely difficult it is! For the mind wanders all over the place, one thought is never finished, one feeling never concluded. It flutters from one subject to another, a slave driven hither and thither. If the mind cannot slow itself down the implication, the inward significance of its thoughts-feelings cannot be discovered. To control its wanderings is to make it narrow and petty and then thought-feeling is expended in checking, restraining, rather than in studying, examining and understanding. The mind has to slow itself down and how is this to be done? If it forces itself to be slow then opposition is brought into being which creates further conflict, further complication. Compulsion of any kind will nullify its effort. To be aware of each thought - feeling is extremely arduous and difficult; to recognize that which is trivial and to let go, to be aware of that which is significant and to follow it, penetratingly and deeply, is strenuous, requiring extensional concentration. I would like to suggest a way but don't make of it into a hard and fast system, a tyrannical technique or the only way, a boring routine or duty. We know how to keep a diary, writing down all the events of the day in the evening. I do not suggest that we should keep a retrospective diary but try to write down every thought-feeling, whenever you have a little time. If you try it, you will see how extremely difficult even this is. When you do write you can only put down one or two thoughts because your thinking is too rapid, disconnected and wandering. And as you cannot write down everything, because you have other things to do, you will find after a while that another layer of your consciousness is taking note. When again you have leisure to write, all those thoughts-feelings to which you have not given conscious attention will be "remembered." So at the end of the day you will have written down as much of your thoughts and feelings as possible. Of course only those who are earnest will do this. At the end of the day look at what you have written down during the day. This study is an art, for out of it comes understanding. What is important is how you study what you have written, rather than the mere writing down. If you put yourself in opposition to what you have written you will not understand it. That is, if you accept or deny, judge or compare, you will not grasp the significance of all that is written, for identification prevents the flowering of thought-feeling. But if you examine it, suspending judgment, it will reveal its inward contents. To examine with choiceless awareness, without fear or favour, is extremely difficult. Thus you learn to slow down your thoughts and feelings but also, which is enormously important, to observe with tolerant dispassion every thought - feeling, free from judgment and perverted criticism. Out of this comes deep understanding which is cultivated not only during the waking hours but during sleep. From this you will find there comes candor, honesty. But then you will be able to follow each movement of thought -feeling. For in this is involved not only the comprehension of the superficial layer but also of the many hidden layers of consciousness. Thus through constant self-awareness there is deeper and wider self-knowledge. It is a book of many volumes; in its beginning is its ending. You cannot skip a paragraph, a page, in order to reach the end quickly and greedily. For wisdom is not bought by the coin of greed or impatience. It comes as the volume of self-knowledge is read diligently, that which you are from moment to moment, not at a particular, given moment. Surely this means incessant work, an alertness which is not only passive but of constant inquiry, without the greed for an end. This passivity is in itself active. With stillness comes highest wisdom and bliss. Questioner: I am very depressed and how am I to get over it? Krishnamurti: It is natural, is it not, to be depressed at this present time when there is so much killing, confusion and sorrow? Now, do we learn when we are up or down, at the heights or in the shadows, in the valleys? Our lives are lived in undulation, up and down, in great heights and in great depths. When we are at the heights we are so exhilarated, so consumed with happiness or joy, with that sense of completeness, that the depths, the shadows are forgotten. Joy is not a problem, happiness does not seek a solution, in that state of completeness there is no striving after understanding. It is. But it does not last and we grope after it, remembering, grasping, comparing. Only when we are in the depths, in the valley, conflict, confusion, sorrow arise. From this we want to run away, craving to reach the heights once again. But we will not attain through want, for joy comes uninvited. Happiness is not an end in itself; it is an incident in wider and deeper understanding. But if we try to comprehend conflict and sorrow we shall begin to understand ourselves in relation to that conflict and sorrow: how we meet it or evade it, how we condemn it or justify it, how we rationalize it or compare it. In this process we get to know ourselves, our deceits, escapes, excuses; you may escape from depression but it will catch you up again and again. But if we try to understand it, and to understand we must observe all the reactions in relation to it, how we try to escape from it, to find substitutions for it, we will find that the very desire to get over it indicates the lack of its comprehension. Through becoming aware of the causes and significance of depression wider and deeper understanding comes into being, in which there is no place for depression, for self pity, for fear. Questioner: You talked about the State. Will you please explain more about it. Krishnamurti: What you are, that your State will be. If you are envious and passionate, seeking power and wealth, then you will create the State, the government that will represent you. If you are seeking power and dominance as most are, in the family, in the town or in the group, you will create a government of oppression and ruthlessness. If you are competitive, worldly, you bring about a society that is organized for violence, whose values are sensate, which will give rise ultimately to wars, to disasters, to tyrannies. Having helped to create a society, a State, according to your cravings, it runs away with you; it becomes an independent entity, dominating, commanding. But it is we, you and I, who have produced it through our ill will, greed and worldliness. What you are the State is. Organized religion, to exist at all, must and does become a partner of the State and thereby loses its true function: to guide, to teach, to uphold at all times what is true. In this partnership religion becomes another means of oppression and division. If you who are responsible for the creation of the State do not understand yourself, how can you bring about the necessary change in the machinery of the State? You cannot affect a deep, radical change in the State unless you understand yourself, and thereby free yourself from sensuality, from worldliness and the craving for fame. Unless you become religious in the fundamental sense of the word, not of any particular organized religion, your State will be irreligious and therefore responsible for war and economic disaster, for starvation and oppression. If you are nationalistic, separative, racially prejudiced, then you will produce a State that will be the cause of antagonism, oppression and misery. Such a State can never be religious; it becomes evil the larger and more powerful it becomes. I am using the word religious not in any specialized sense, not according to any doctrine, creed or belief but living the life of non-sensuality, non-worldliness, not seeking personal fame or immortality. Do not let us be clouded by words, names or labels which only bring confusion as Hindus, Buddhists, Christians and Mohammedans, or as Americans, Germans, English, Chinese. Religion is above all names, creeds, doctrines. It is the way of the realization of the supreme, and virtue is not of any country, race or of any specialized religion. We must free ourselves from names and labels, from their confusion and antagonism, and try to seek through highest morality that which is. Thus you will become truly religious and so will your State. Then only will there be peace and light in the world. If each one of us can understand that there can be unity only in right thinking, not in mere superficial, economic devices, when we become religious, transcending craving for personal immortality and power, for worldliness and sensuality, only then shall we realize the deep inward wisdom of peace and love. Questioner: Are you merely teaching a more subtle form of psychology? Krishnamurti: What do we mean by psychology? Do we not mean the study of the human mind, of oneself? If we do not understand our own make up, our own psyche, our own thought-feeling, then how can we understand anything else? How can you know what you think is true if you have no knowledge of yourself? If you do not know yourself, you will not know reality. Psychology is not an end in itself. It is but a beginning. In the study of oneself, right foundation is laid for the structure of reality. You must have the foundation but it is not an end in itself, it is not the structure. If you have not laid the right foundation, ignorance, illusion, superstition will come into being, as they exist in the world today. You must lay the right foundation with right means. You cannot have the right with wrong means. The study of oneself is an extremely difficult task and without self-knowledge and right thinking, ultimate reality is not comprehensible. If you are not aware of and so do not understand the self-contradiction, the confusion and the different layers of consciousness, then on what are you to build? Without self-knowledge that which you build, your formulations, beliefs, hopes will have little significance. To understand oneself requires a great deal of detachment and subtlety, perseverance and penetration; not dogmatism, not assertion, not denial, not comparison which lead to dualism and confusion. You must be your own psychologist, you must be aware of yourself, for out of yourself is all knowledge and wisdom. Nobody can be an expert about you. You have to discover for yourself and so liberate yourself; not another can help you in freeing yourself from ignorance and sorrow. You create your own sorrow and there is no saviour but yourself. Questioner: Do I understand you to say that through the constant practice of instantaneously discerning the cause of every thought that enters the mind, the true self will begin to be revealed? Krishnamurti: If we assume that there is a true and a false self then we shall not understand what is true. Don't you see it is like this: we are out on a voyage of discovery. To discover, thought-feeling must not be clogged by any hypothesis or belief; they hinder. To discover there must be freedom, there must be alert passivity. The knowledge of others is of little value in the discovery of truth. It must be found by yourself, not another can give it to you, not another can bring you wisdom. Truth is not a reward, it is not the result of a practice, nor is it to be assumed nor formulated. If you formulate it you will miss it, your hypothesis will only cloud it. Through constant awareness you will discover what is true of the self. It is this discovery that matters for it will liberate thought from ignorance and sorrow; what you discover on this journey, that will liberate, not your assertions and denials of the true and the false. To discover how one's thought-feeling is entrenched in creed, in belief, to discover the significance of the conflict of the opposites, to become aware of lust, of worldliness, of craving for self-continuity, is to be liberated from ignorance and sorrow. Through self-awareness comes self-knowledge and right thinking. There is no right thinking without self-knowledge. Questioner: Do you mean that right thinking is a continual process of awareness while right thought is merely static? Why is right thought not right thinking? Krishnamurti: Right thinking is a continual process born of self-discovery, of self-awareness. There is no beginning and no end to this process so right thinking is eternal. Right thinking is timeless; it is not bound by the past, by memory, not limited by formulation. It is born of freedom from fear and hope. Without the living quality of self-knowledge, right thinking is not possible. Right thinking is creative for it is a constant process of self-discovery. Right thought is thought conditioned; it is a result, is made up, is put together; it is the outcome of a pattern, of memory, of habit, of practice. It is imitative, accumulative, traditional. It shapes itself through fear and hope, through greed and becoming, through authority and copy. Right thinking-feeling goes above and beyond the opposites, whereas right or conditioned thought is oppressed by the opposites. The conflict of the opposites is static. Right thinking is the outcome of how to think, not what to think. But most of us have been trained or are training ourselves what to think, which is to think in terms of conditioning. Our civilization is based on what to think which is given to us through organized religions, through political parties and their ideologies and so on. Propaganda is not conducive to right thinking; it tells you what to think. Through self-awareness the pattern, the copy, the habit, the conditioned thought is discovered; this perception begins to free thought-feeling from bondage, from ignorance; through constant awareness and self-knowledge, which bring about right thinking, there is that creative stillness of reality. The craving for security brings about conditioned thought; to seek certainty is to find it but it is not the real. Highest wisdom comes with that creative stillness of the mind-heart. OJAI 4TH PUBLIC TALK 4TH JUNE, 1944 In the last three talks I have been trying to explain that right thinking, which comes from self-knowledge, is not to be acquired through another, however great, nor through any book; but rather through the experience of self-discovery, through that discovery which is creative and liberating. I tried to explain that as our life is a series of struggles and conflicts, unless we understand right endeavour we will be creating not clarity and peace but more conflict and more pain; that without self-knowledge, to make a choice between the opposites must inevitably lead to further ignorance and sorrow. I do not know how clearly I explained this problem of conflict between the opposites; for till we deeply understand its cause and effect our endeavour, however earnest and strenuous, will not liberate us from our confusion and misery. However much we may formulate or try to understand that which we call God or Truth, we cannot comprehend the unknown until the mind itself becomes as vast, as immeasurable as the thing it is trying to feel, to experience. To experience the immeasurable, the unknowable, mind must go beyond and above itself. Thought-feeling is limited through its own cause, the craving to become, which is time binding. Craving, through identifying memory, creates the self, the me and the mine. It is the actor taking different roles to suit different occasions but inwardly ever the same. Till this craving, We cause of our ignorance and sorrow, is understood and dissolved, the conflict of duality will continue and effort to disentangle from it will only plunge us more into it. This craving expresses itself through sensuality, through worldliness, through personal immortality, through authority, mystery, miracle. Just as long as the mind is the instrument of the self, of craving, so long will there be duality and conflict. Such a mind cannot comprehend the immeasurable. The self, the consciousness of the me and the mine, is built up through craving, by a series of thoughts and feelings not only in the past but by the influence of that past in the present. We are the result of the past; our being is founded in it. The many interrelated layers of our consciousness are the out come of the past. This past is to be studied and understood through the living present; through the data of the present the past is uncovered. In studying the self and its cause, craving, we shall begin to understand the way of ignorance and sorrow. To merely deny craving, to merely oppose its many expressions is not to transcend it but to continue in it. To deny worldliness is still to be worldly; but if you understand the ways of craving then the tyranny of the opposites, possession and non-possession, merit and demerit, ceases. If we deeply inquire into craving, meditating upon it, becoming aware of its deeper and wider significance and so begin to transcend it, we shall awaken to a new, different faculty which is not begotten of craving nor of the conflict of the opposites. Through constant self-awareness there comes unidentifying observation, the study of the self without judgment. Through this awareness the many layers of self-consciousness are discovered and understood. Self-knowledge brings right thinking which alone will free thought-feeling from craving and its many conflicting sorrows. Questioner: Does the understanding of oneself lead to a change of the problem and idea? One can understand how nationalism comes into being: education, persecution, vanity et cetera, but the nationalist remains still a nationalist. The will to change, to understand the problem, does not bring the real dissipation of that problem. So what is the next step after knowing the causes in this thought process? Krishnamurti: To identify oneself with a particular race, with a particular country or with certain ideologies yields security, satisfaction and flattering self-importance. This worship of the part, instead of the whole, cultivates antagonism, conflict and confusion. If you think this out, feel this out clearly and intelligently, not examining the mere ideas but your response to them, in comprehending the full implication of nationalism, order and clarity will come into that thin layer of consciousness with which we function every day. It is important to do this; to become conscious of the full significance of nationalism, how it divides humanity which is one; how it breeds antagonism and oppression; how it encourages the ownership of property and of family; how it conditions thought-feeling through organizations; how it cultivates economic barriers and poverty, wars, miseries and so on. In deeply understanding the implication of nationalism, order and clarity are brought into the conscious mind and into this clarity the hidden, the stored up responses project themselves. Through studying these projections, diligently and intelligently, the whole consciousness is freed from the disease of nationalism. Then you do not become an internationalist, which still maintains separatism and the worship of the part; but there is an awareness of unity and non-nationality, a freedom from labels and names, from racial and class prejudice. The same process can be applied to all our problems; to think -feel over the problem as widely and freely as possible, thus bringing order and clarity to the conscious mind which then can respond with understanding to the projections of the hidden, inner impulses and injunctions; thus wholly resolving the problem. Till the many layers of memory are searched out, exposed and their responses fully understood, the problem will continue; but this search, this inquiry, is not possible if the conscious mind has not cleared itself of the problem. Not to be completely identified with the problem is our difficulty for identification prevents the flow of thought-feeling; identification implies acceptance or denial, judgment or comparison, which distort our understanding. Thought-feeling, to free itself from any problem, from any hindrance, is not the work of a moment. Freedom demands outer and inner awareness, the outer ready to receive the inner responses; this constant awareness brings deeper and wider self-knowledge. In self-knowledge there is the freedom of right thinking and only in self-knowledge are problems, bondages, understood and dissolved. Questioner: I am a very active person physically. A time is coming when I shall not be. How shall I then occupy my time? Krishnamurti: Most of us are caught up in sensate values, and the world around us is organized to increase and maintain them. We become more and more involved in them and unthinkingly grow old, worn out by outward activity but inwardly inactive and poor. Soon the outward, noisy activity comes to an inevitable end and then we become aware of loneliness, poverty of being. In order not to face this pain and fear, some continue ceaselessly to be active socially, in organized religion, politically and in the business world, giving justifications for their activity and noisy bustle. For those who cannot continue outward activity the question of what to do in old age arises. They cannot become suddenly inwardly active, they do not know what it means, their whole life has been against it. How are they to become inwardly aware? It would be wise if after a certain age, perhaps let us say forty or forty-five, or younger still, you retired from the world, before you are too old. What would happen if you did retire not merely to enjoy the fruit of sensate gatherings but retired in order to find yourself, in order to think feel profoundly, to meditate, to discover reality? Perhaps you may save mankind from the sensate, worldly path it is following, with all its brutality, deception and sorrow. Thus there may be a group of people, being disassociated from worldliness, from its identifications and demands, able to guide it, to teach it. Being free from worldliness they will have no authority, no importance and so will not be drawn into its stupidities and calamities. For a man who is not free from authority, from position, is not able to guide, to teach another. A man who is in authority is identified with his position, with his importance, with his work and so is in bondage. To understand the freedom of truth there must be freedom to experience. If such a group came into being then they could produce a new world, a new culture. It is sad for him who, with old age approaching, begins to question his empty life; at least he has begun to wake up... A couple came to see me the other day. They were working in a factory earning large sums. They were old. In the course of conversation a suggestion naturally arose that they withdraw, considering their age, to think, to live anew. They looked surprised and said: "What about?" You may laugh but I am afraid most of us are in the same position. For most of us thinking, searching, is along a clear cut groove of a particular dogma or belief, and to follow that groove is considered religious, intelligent. Right thinking begins only with self-knowledge and not in the knowledge of ideas and facts which is only an extension of ignorance. But if you, whether you are old or young, begin to understand yourself, you will discover great and imperishable treasures. But to discover, demands persistent awareness, adjustment and application; awareness of every thought-feeling and out of this the treasure of life is discovered. Questioner: How can we truly understand ourselves, our infinite riches, without developing a whole complete perception first; other wise with our comparative perception of thought, we get only a partial understanding of that infinite flow of cause in whose order we move and have our true conscious being. Krishnamurti: How can you understand the whole when you are worshipping the part! Being petty, partial, limited, how can you understand that which is boundless, infinite? The small cannot grasp the great but the small can cease to be. In understanding what makes for limitation, for partiality, and transcending it, you will then be able to comprehend the whole, the limitless. From the known the unknown is realized but to speculate about the unknowable is merely to deny the limited, the trivial; and so all speculation becomes a hindrance for the understanding of reality. Begin to understand yourself and in that there will be discovered immeasurable riches. Begin with the known, with the trivial, the limited, the confused; the small that is bound by fear, by belief, by lust, by ill will. It is petty, partial because it is the product of ignorance. How can such a mind understand the whole? It cannot. If thought-feeling frees itself from craving, and so from ignorance and sorrow, then only is there a possibility of understanding the whole. How can there be understanding of the causeless when our thought-feeling is a result, when it is bound to time? This seems so obvious that it does not require much explanation, but yet so many are caught up in the illusion that we must first have the vision, the perception of the whole, a working hypothesis of it as a beginning, before there is understanding of the part. To have a perception of that completeness, the realization of that infinite reality, the singularistic, the limited mind must break down the barriers that confine it. From a small, narrow opening the wide heavens are not to be perceived. We try to perceive the whole through the small aperture of our thought-feeling and what we see must inevitably be small, partial, incomplete. We say we want to understand the whole, yet we cling to the petty, to the me and the mine. Through self-awareness, which brings self-knowledge, right thinking is nurtured, which alone will free us from our triviality and sorrow. When the mind ceases to chatter, when it is not playing any part, when it is not grasping or becoming, when it is utterly still, in that creative emptiness is the whole, the uncrated. Questioner: Do you believe there is evil in the world? Krishnamurti: Why do you ask me that question? Are you not aware of it? Are not its actions obvious, its sorrow crushing? Who has created it but each one of us? Who is responsible for it but each one of us? As we have created good, however little, so we have create devil, however vast. Good and evil are part of us and are also independent of us. When we think-feel narrowly, enviously, with greed and hate, we are adding to the evil which turns and rends us. This problem of good and evil, this conflicting problem, is always with us as we are creating it. It has become part of us, this wanting and not wanting, loving and hating, craving and renouncing. We are continually creating this duality in which thought-feeling is caught up. Thought-feeling can go beyond and above good and its opposite, only when it understands its cause -craving. In understanding merit and demerit there is freedom from both. Opposites cannot be fused and they are to be transcended through the dissolution of craving. Each opposite must be thought out, felt out, as extensively and deeply as possible, through all the layers of consciousness; through this thinking out, feeling out, a new comprehension is awakened which is not the product of craving, or of time. There is evil in the world to which we are contributing as we contribute to the good. Man seems to unite more in hate, than in good. A wise man realizes the cause of evil and good, and through understanding frees thought-feeling from it. Questioner: Last Sunday I understood from what you said that we do not take time from our jobs, family, activities, to study ourselves. This seems a contradiction of your former statement that one can be aware in everything one does. Krishnamurti: Surely you begin by being aware in every thing that you do. But what happens when you are so aware? If you pursue this awareness more and more you come to be alone but not isolated. No object is ever in isolation; to be is to be related whether alone or with many. But when you begin to be aware in everything you do, you are beginning to study yourself, you are beginning to be more and more aware of your inward private thoughts-feelings, motives, fears and so on. The more there is self-awareness the more self-recollected you become; you become more silent, more purely aware. We are too much occupied with family, job, friends, social affairs and we are little aware; old age and death creep upon us and our life is empty. If you are aware in your daily relationship and activity, you will begin to disentangle thought - feeling from the cause of ignorance and sorrow. Through becoming aware of the inward as well as the superficial actions and responses, distractions will naturally cease and a simple life will inevitably follow. Questioner: Do you think you will ever come back to the Masters? Krishnamurti: The questioner believing and hoping in the Masters wishes to bring me back to his fold; perhaps he thinks that having once accepted his belief I will return to it. Let us examine this belief in the Masters intelligently, without identifying ourselves with it. For some it will be difficult as they are greatly taken up with it but let us try to think-feel as openly and freely as possible concerning it. Why do you need Masters? Those supposed living beings with whom you are not directly in contact? You will say probably that they act as sign posts to reality. If they are sign posts why do you stop and worship them? Why do you accept the sign posts, the mediators, the messengers, the in-between authorities? Then why do you form organizations, groups round about them? If you are seeking truth why all this bother about them, why the exclusive organizations and secret conclaves? Is it not because it is easier and pleasanter to linger, to worship at a wayside shrine, taking comfort in it, rather than to go on the long journey of search and discovery? No one can lead you to truth, neither the Masters nor the gods nor their messengers. You alone have to toil, search out and discover. A teacher with whom you are directly in contact is one thing, though it has its own dangers; but to be supposedly in contact with those whom you are not directly in touch with, or in touch with through their supposed representatives or messengers, is to invite superstition, oppression and other grave hindrances. The worship of authority is the very denial of truth. Authority blinds and the flowering of intelligence is destroyed; arrogance and stupidity increase, intolerance and division grow and multiply. Fundamentally what can the Masters tell you? To know yourself, to cease to hate, to be compassionate, to seek reality. Any other teaching would be of little importance. None can give you a technique, a set formula to know yourself. If you had one and you followed it, you would not know yourself; you would know the result of a formula but not yourself. To know, you will have to search and discover within yourself. The result of a technique, of a practice, of a habit is uncreative, mechanical. Not another can help you to understand yourself and with out understanding yourself there is no comprehension of reality. This search for the Masters is the prompting of worldliness. A super sensate value is still of this world and so the cause of ignorance and sorrow. Then one might ask what are you doing, are you not a sign post? If I am and you gather round it to put flowers, to build a shrine and all the stupidities that go with it, then it is utterly foolish and unworthy of grown up people. What we are trying to do is to learn how to cultivate right thinking - which comes only through self-knowledge. On the foundation of right thinking is the Highest. This knowledge none can give you, but you yourself have to become aware of all your thoughts-feelings. For in yourself is the beginning and the end, the whole of life. The Highest is to be discovered, not formulated. To read the pages of the past, you must know yourself as in the present for through the present the past is revealed. With you is the key that opens the door to reality; none can offer it for it is yours. Through your own awareness you can open the door; through your own self-awareness only can you read the rich volume of self-knowledge, for in it are the hints and the openings, the hindrances and the blockages that prevent and yet lead to the Timeless, to the Eternal. OJAI 5TH PUBLIC TALK 11TH JUNE, 1944 Till we understand the problems involved in craving, as I was explaining last Sunday, the conflict and sorrow of our daily life cannot be dissolved. There are three principal forms craving takes: sensuality, worldliness and personal immortality; the gratification of the senses, the desire for prosperity, personal power and fame. In analyzing the craving for the gratification of the senses we realize its insatiability, its torments, its ever increasing demands; its end is misery and conflict. When we examine worldliness it too reveals incessant strife, confusion and sorrow. The craving for personal immortality is born of illusion for the self is a result, is made up, and that which is put together a result can never comprehend that which is causeless, that which is immortal. The way of craving is very complex and difficult to dissolve; it is the cause of our misery, of our confusion and conflict. Without putting an end to it there is no peace; without its complete extinction, thought-feeling is in torment and life becomes an ugly struggle. It is the root of all selfishness and of all ignorance. It is the cause of frustration and hopelessness. Without transcending it there is no happiness, no creative peace. Craving for sensuality indicates inward poverty; the desire to accumulate creates a competitive, brutal world; sensate values and craving for personal immortality or personal power must bring about authority, mystery, miracle, which prevent the discovery of the real. Violence and wars are the outcome of worldly desires and there can be peace only when craving, in all its different forms, is understood and transcended. If we do not understand this primary motive but merely develop virtue we are only strengthening the self, the cause of ignorance and sorrow, the self which takes different roles and cultivates different virtues to gratify itself. We have to understand this changeable quality of craving, its cunning adaptability and its self-gratifying protective ways. The development of virtue becomes the stronghold of the self but to free thought-feeling from craving is true virtue. This freedom from craving which is virtue is as a ladder; it is not an end in itself. Without virtue, the freedom from craving, there can be no understanding, no peace. To develop virtue as an opposite is still to give strength to the self. For all craving, all desire is singular is, limited; being singularistic, however much you may try to make it noble, virtuous, it will always remain limited, small and therefore the cause of conflict, antagonism and sorrow. It will ever know death. So, as long as the seed of craving remains in any form there will be torment, poverty, death. If we develop virtue without understanding craving we are not bringing about that creative stillness of the mind-heart in which alone there is the real. Without understanding the subtleties of craving, merely to adjust ourselves to our environment, to bring peace in our relationship with the family, with the neighbour, with the world, will be in vain; for the self, the instrument of craving, is still the chief actor. How is it possible to free thought-feeling from craving? By becoming aware; by studying and understanding the self and its actions is there freedom from craving. To understand, all denial or acceptance, judgment or comparison must be set aside. In becoming aware we shall discover what is honesty, what is love, what is fear, what is simple life and the complex problem of memory. A mind that is uncertain, self-contradictory, cannot know what is candor, honesty. Honesty demands humility and there can be humility only when you are aware of your own state of self-contradiction, of your own uncertainty. Self-contradiction and uncertainty will ever exist if there is craving, uncertainty of value, of action, of relationship. He who is certain is obstinate, thoughtless. He who knows does not know. In becoming aware of this uncertainty surely you are cultivating detachment, dispassion. The beginning of humility is detachment. And surely this is the first step of the ladder. This step of the ladder must be worn away for you have trodden on it so often. A man who is conscious of detachment ceases to be detached; but he who has concerned himself with craving and its ways is becoming virtuous without striving after virtue; he is dispassionate without seeking it. Without candid awareness, understanding and peace are not possible. Questioner: Besides wasting so much paper, do you seriously intend that we should put down every thought and feeling? Krishnamurti: I suggested the other day that in order to understand ourselves we must become aware and to study ourselves thought-feeling must slow itself down. If you become aware of your own thinking-feeling, you will perceive how rapid it is, one disconnected thought-feeling following another, wandering and distracted; and it is impossible to observe, examine such confusion. To bring order and so clarity, I suggested that every thought-feeling be written down. This whirling machinery must slow itself down to be observed, so writing every thought-feeling may be of help. As in a slow motion picture you are able to see every movement, so in slowing down the rapidity of the mind you are then able to observe every thought, trivial and important. The trivial leads to the important and do not brush it aside as being petty. Since it is there it is an indication of the pettiness of the mind and to brush it aside does not make the mind any the less trivial, stupid. To brush it aside helps to keep the mind small, narrow, but to be aware of it, to understand it leads to great riches. If any of you have tried to write as I suggested a couple of weeks ago, you will know how difficult it is to put down every thought and feeling. You will not only use a lot of paper but you will not be able to write down all your thoughts-feelings for your mind is too rapid in its distractions. But if you have the intention of putting down every thought-feeling, however trivial and stupid, the shameful and the pleasant, however little you may succeed at first you will soon discover a peculiar thing happening. As you have not the time to write every thought-feeling, for you have to give your attention to other matters, you will find that one of the layers of consciousness is recording every thought-feeling. Though you do not give your attention directly to write down nevertheless you are inwardly aware and when you have time to write again, you will find that the recordings of inward awareness will come to the surface. If you will look over what you have written you will find yourself either condemning or approving, justifying or comparing. This approbation or denial prevents the flowering of thought-feeling and so stops understanding. If you do not condemn, justify or compare but ponder over, try to understand, then you will discover that these thoughts-feelings are indications of something much deeper. So you are beginning to develop that mirror which reflects your thoughts-feelings without any distortion. And by observing them you are comprehending your actions and responses and so self-knowledge becomes wider and deeper. You not only comprehend the present momentary action and reaction but also the past that has produced the present. And for this you must have quiet and solitude. But society does not allow you to have them. You must be with people, outwardly active at all costs. If you are alone you are considered antisocial or peculiar, or you are afraid of your own loneliness. But in this process of self-awareness you will discover many things about yourself and so of the world. Do not treat this writing down as a new method, a new technique. Try it. But what is important is to become aware of every thought-feeling, from which arises self-knowledge. You must start out on the journey of self-discovery; what you find does not depend on any technique - technique prevents discovery - and it is the discovery that is liberating and creative. What is important is not your determination, conclusion, choice, but what you discover, for that will bring understanding. If you do not wish to write down then become aware of every thought-feeling, which is much more difficult. Become aware, for example, of your resentment if you have any. To be aware of it is to be aware of what caused it, why and how it has been stored up, how it is shaping your actions and responses and how it is your constant companion. Surely to be aware of resentment, antagonism, involves all this and more, and it is very difficult to be aware of it so completely, comprehensively as in a flash; but if you are, you will find that it soon transforms itself. If you cannot be so aware, put down your thoughts-feelings, learn to study them with tolerant dispassion and little by little the whole content of your thoughts-feelings is discovered. It is this discovery, this understanding, that is the liberating and transforming factor. Questioner: Did you seriously mean what you said when you suggested last week that one should retire from the world when one is around forty-five or so? Krishnamurti: I suggested this seriously. Almost all of us, till death overtakes us, are so caught up in worldliness that we have no time to search out deeply, to discover the real. To retire from the world necessitates a complete change in educational and economic systems, does it not? If you did retire, you would be unprepared, you would be lost, you would be lonely, you would not know what to do with yourself. You would not know how to think. You would probably form new groups, new organizations with new beliefs, badges and labels, and once again be active outwardly, doing reforms which will need further reform. But this is not what I mean. To retire from the world you must be prepared: by right kind of occupation, by creating right kind of environment, by setting up the right State, by right education and so on. If you have been so prepared then to withdraw from worldliness at any age is the natural not abnormal sequence; you withdraw to flow into deep and pure awareness, you withdraw not into isolation but to find the real; to help to transform the ever congealing, conflicting society and State. All this would involve a wholly different kind of education, an upheaval in our social and economic order. Such a group of people would be completely disassociated from authority, from politics, from all those causes which produce war and antagonism between man and man. A stone may direct the course of a river; so a small number may direct the course of a culture. Surely any great thing is done in this manner. You will probably say most of us cannot retire however much we may want to. Naturally all cannot but some of you can. To live alone or in a small group requires great intelligence. But if you really thought it worthwhile then you would set about it, not as a wonderful act of renunciation but as a natural and intelligent thing for a thoughtful man to do. How extraordinarily important it is that there should be at least some who do not belong to any particular group or race or to any specialized religion or society! They will create the true brotherhood of man for they will be seeking truth. To be free from outward riches there must be the awareness of inward poverty, which brings untold riches. The stream of culture may change its course through a few awakened people. These are not strangers but you and me. Questioner: Are there not times when issues are so important that they need to be approached from without as well as through individual comprehension? For instance, the pouring of deadly narcotics into China by Japan? This is only one of the many forms of exploitation for which we are really responsible. Is there any way without violence in which we can contribute towards the stopping of this awful procedure, or must we wait for individual awareness to take its course? Krishnamurti: Periodically one group exploits another group and the exploitation brings on a violent crisis. This has been happening throughout the ages, one race dominating, exploiting, murdering another race and in turn oppressed, cheated, poverty stricken. How is this to be solved? Is it to be adjusted only through outward legislation, outward organization, outward education, or by understanding the inner conflicting causes that have produced the outer chaos and misery? You cannot grasp the inner without understanding the outer. If you merely try to put down one race exploiting or oppressing another, then you will become the exploiter, the oppressor. If you adopt evil methods for a righteous end, the end is transformed by the means. So until we grasp this deeply, lastingly, mere reformation of evil by evil methods is productive of further evil; thus reform ever needs further reform. We think we see its obviousness and yet we allow ourselves to be persuaded to the contrary, through fear, propaganda and so on, which means really that we do not grasp its truth. As the individual, so the nation, so the State; you may not be able to transform another but you can be certain of your own transformation. You may stop one country exploiting another by violent methods, by economic sanctions and so on but what guarantee is there that the very nation that is putting an end to the ruthlessness of another is not going to be also oppressive, ruthless? There is no guarantee, no guarantee whatsoever. On the contrary, in fighting evil by evil means, the nation, the individual becomes that which he is fighting. You may build an outer, superficial structure of excellent legislation to control, to check, but if there is no good will and brotherly love, the inward conflict and poverty explode and produce chaos. Mere legislation does not prevent the West from exploiting the East or perhaps the East from exploiting the West in its turn, but just as long as we, individually or in groups, identify ourselves with this or that race, nation or religion, so long will there be wars and exploitation, oppression and starvation. Just as long as you admit to yourself division, the long list of absurd divisions as an American, Englishman, German, Hindu and so on, just as long as you are not aware of human unity and relationship, so long will there be mass murder and sorrow. A people that is guided, checked by mere legislation is as an artificial flower, beautiful to look upon but empty within. You will probably say that the world will not wait for individual awakening or for the awakening of a few to alter its course. Yes, it will go on in its blind, set course. But it will awaken through each individual who can throw off his bondage to division, to worldliness, to personal ambition and power; through his understanding, through his compassion can brutality and ignorance be brought to an end. In his awakening only is there hope. Questioner: I want to help people, serve them. What is the best way? Krishnamurti: The best way is to begin to understand yourself and change yourself. In this desire to help another, to serve another, there is hidden pride, conceit. If you love you serve. The clamour to help is born of vanity. If you want to help another, you must know yourself for you are the other. Outwardly we may be different, yellow, black, brown or white, but we are all driven by craving, by fear, by greed or by ambition; inwardly we are very much alike. Without self-knowledge, how can you have knowledge of another's needs. Without understanding yourself, you cannot understand another, serve another. Without self-knowledge you are acting in ignorance, and so creating sorrow. Let us consider this. Industrialization is spreading rapidly through out the world, urged on by greed and war. Industrialization may give employment, feed more people but what is the larger result? What happens to a people highly developed in technique? They will be richer, there will be more cars, more airplanes, more gadgets, more cinema shows, bigger and better houses; but what happens to them as human beings? They become more and more ruthless, more and more mechanical, less and less creative. Violence must spread and government then is the organization of violence. lndustrialization may bring about better economic conditions, but with what appalling results! Slums, antagonism of the worker against the nonworker, the boss and the slave, capitalism and communism, the whole chaotic business that is spreading in different parts of the world. Happily we say that it will raise the standard of living, poverty will be stamped out, there will be work, there will be freedom, dignity and so on. The division of the rich and the poor, the man of power and the seeker after power, this endless division and conflict will go on. What is the end of it? What has happened in the West? Wars, revolutions, continual threat of destruction, utter despair. Who is bringing help to whom and who is saving whom? When everything is being destroyed about you the thoughtful must inquire as to the deeper causes, which so few seem to do. A man who is blasted out of his house by a bomb must envy the primitive man. You certainly are bringing civilization to the so-called backward people but at what price! You may be serving but consider what comes in its wake. But few realize the deeper causes of disaster. You cannot destroy industry, you cannot do away with the airplane but you can eradicate utterly the causes that produce its misuse. The causes of its appalling use lie in you. You can eradicate them which is a difficult task; since you will not face that task you try to legalize war; you have covenants, leagues, international security and so on, but greed, ambition over rule them and war and catastrophe inevitably follow. To help another, you must know yourself; like you, he is the result of the past. We are all interrelated. If you are inwardly diseased by ignorance, ill will and passion, you will inevitably spread disease and darkness. If you are inwardly healthy and integrated, you spread light and peace; otherwise you help to produce greater chaos, greater misery. To understand oneself requires patience, tolerant awareness; the self is a book of many volumes which you cannot read in a day, but when once you begin to read, you must read every word, every sentence, every paragraph for in them are the intimations of the whole. The beginning of it is the ending of it. If you know how to read, supreme wisdom is to be found. Questioner: Is awareness only possible during waking hours? Krishnamurti: The more you are conscious of your thoughts-emotions, the more you are aware of your whole being. Then the sleeping hours become an intensification of the waking hours. Consciousness functions even in so-called sleep, of which we are well aware. You think over a problem pretty thoroughly and yet you cannot solve it; you sleep over it, which phrase we often use. In the morning we find its issues are clearer and we seem to know what to do; or we perceive a new aspect of it which helps to clear up the problem. How does this happen? We can attribute a lot of mystery and nonsense to it, but what does take place? In that so-called sleep the conscious mind, that thin layer is quiet, perhaps receptive; it has worried over the problem and now being weary is still, the tension removed. Then the promptings of the deeper layers of consciousness are discernible and when you wake up, the problem seems to have become clearer and easier to solve. So the more you are aware of your thoughts-feelings during the day, not for a few seconds or during a set period, the mind becomes quieter, alertly passive and so capable of responding and comprehending the deeper intimations. But it is difficult to be so aware; the conscious mind is not used to such intensity. The more aware the conscious mind is the more the inner mind cooperates with it and so there is deeper and wider understanding. The more you are aware during the waking hours, the less dreams there are. Dreams are indications of thoughts-feelings, actions not completed, not understood, that need fresh interpretation, or frustrated thought-hope that needs to be fully comprehended. Some dreams are of no importance. Those that have significance have to be interpreted and that interpretation depends on your capacity of non-identification, of keen intelligence. If you are deeply aware, interpretation is not necessary but you are too lazy and so, if you can afford it, you go to a dream specialist; he interprets your dreams according to his understanding. You gradually become dependent upon him; he becomes the new priest and so you have another problem added to you. But if you are aware even for a brief period you will see that that short, sharp awareness, however fleeting it be, begins to awaken a new feeling which is not the result of craving, but a faculty which is free from all personal limitations and tendencies. This faculty, this feeling, will gather momentum as you become more deeply and widely aware so that you are aware even in spite of your attention being given to other matters. Though you are occupied with necessary duties and give your attention to daily existence, inward awareness continues; it is as a sensitive Photographic plate on which every impression, every thought-feeling is being imprinted to be studied, assimilated and understood. This faculty, this new feeling is of the utmost importance for it will reveal that which is eternal. OJAI 6TH PUBLIC TALK 18TH JUNE, 1944 I have been saying in my talks that self-knowledge is the beginning of right thinking and without self-knowledge true thinking is not possible. With self-knowledge comes understanding, in it is the root of all understanding. Without self-knowledge there is no comprehension of the world about us. To bring about this understanding there must be right endeavour for without it, as I explained, thought-feeling will ever be in the conflict of duality, of merit and demerit, the me and the mine as opposed to the not-me and the not-mine, which causes deep anguish and sorrow. This conflict of the opposites will ever exist if craving is not observed and understood and so transcended; craving for worldliness and for personal immortality is the cause of sorrow. Craving for these in different forms creates ignorance, antagonism and sorrow. The desire for personal immortality is not only the continuation of the self in the hereafter, but also in the present which expresses itself in the pride off family, of name, of position, in the desire for possessions, for fame, authority, mystery and miracle. The craving for these is the beginning of sorrow and in yielding to them there is no end to sorrow. So freeing thought-feeling from craving is the beginning of virtue. Virtue is a negation of the self rather than the positive becoming of the self, for negative understanding is the highest form of thinking-feeling. The so-called positive becoming or the qualities of the self are self-enclosing, self-binding and so there is never freedom from conflict and sorrow. The desire to become, however noble and virtuous, is still within the narrow sphere of the self and so such a desire is the means of producing conflict and confusion. This process of constant becoming, supposedly positive, brings death with its fears and hopes. Freeing thought from craving, though it may appear as negation, is the essence of virtue for it is not building up the process of the self, the me and the mine. As I said in my previous talks, in freeing thought-feeling from craving, in becoming aware of its ways, we begin to perceive the significance of candor, love, fear, simple life and so on. It is not that one must become candid, honest, but in thinking-feeling about it, in becoming extensively aware of it, its deeper implications are perceived rather than the self becoming honest. Virtue is not a structure upon which the self can build for in it there is no becoming. The self can never become candid, open, clear for its very nature is dark, enclosing, confusing, contradicting. To become aware of ignorance is the beginning of candor, of honesty. To be unaware of ignorance breeds obstinacy and credulity. Without being aware of ignorance, to try to become honest only leads to further confusion. Without self-knowledge mere sincerity is narrowness and gullibility. If one begins to be self-aware and observes what is candor, then confusion yields to clarity. It is the lack of clarity that leads to dishonesty, to pretension. To be aware of escapes, distortions, hindrances, brings order and clarity. Ignorance, which is the lack of self - knowledge, leads to confusion, to dishonesty. Without understanding the contradictory nature of the self, to be candid is to be hard and to produce more and more confusion. Through self-awareness and self-knowledge there is order, clarity and right thinking. The highest form of thinking is negative comprehension. To think-feel positively, without understanding craving, is to raise values that are separative, disruptive and uncreative. Now, love is sorrowful; we are aware that there is in love sorrow, bitterness, disillusionment; the pain of love is a torment; in it we know fear and resentment. There is no escape from love but yet in it there is torture. The foolish blame love, without understanding the cause of pain; without knowing its conflict there is no transcending anguish. Without becoming aware of the source of conflict, craving, love brings pain. It is craving, not love, that creates dependence and all the sorrowful issues that arise out of it. it is craving in relationship that gives rise to uncertainty, not love; and this uncertainty breeds possessiveness, jealousy, fear. In this possessiveness, in this dependence, there is a false sense of unity which sustains and nourishes the temporary feeling of well being; but it is not love, for in it there is inward fear and suspicion. This outward stimulation of seeming oneness is parasitical, the living of the one on the other; it is not love for inwardly there is emptiness, loneliness and the need for dependence. Dependence breeds fear, not love. Without understanding craving is there not domination, oppression, taking the form of love? In relationship with the one or with the many, such love of power and dominance, with its submissiveness and acceptance, brings conflict, antagonism and sorrow. Having the seed of violence within oneself how can there be love? Having the seed of contradiction and uncertainty within oneself how can there be love? Love is beyond and above all these; it transcends sensuousness. Love is in itself eternal not dependent, not a result. In it there is mercy and generosity, forgiveness and compassion. With love, humility and gentleness come into being; without love they have no existence. Questioner: I am already an introvert and it seems to me that from what you have been saying, is there not a danger of my becoming more and more self-centred, more of an introvert? Krishnamurti: If you are an introvert in opposition to an extrovert then there is a danger of self-centredness. If you put yourself in opposition then there is no understanding; then your thoughts, feelings and actions are self-enclosing, isolating. In intelligently comprehending the outer you will come inevitably to the inner, and thereby the division of the outer and inner ceases. If you oppose the outer and cling to the inner or if you deny the inner and assert the outer, then there is the conflict of the opposites, in which there is no understanding. To understand the outer, the world, you must begin with yourself for you, your thoughts-feelings and actions, are the result of both the outer and the inner. You are the centre of all objective and subjective existence and to comprehend it, where are you to begin save with yourself? This does not encourage unbalance, on the contrary it will bring creative understanding, inward peace. But if you deny the outer, the world, if you try to escape from it, if you distort it, shaping it to your fancies, then your inner world is an illusion, isolating and hindering. Then it is a state of delusion which brings misery. To be is to be related but you can block, distort this relationship, thus becoming more and more isolated and self-centred which leads to mental disorder. The root of understanding is within yourself, in self-knowledge. Questioner: You, like so many Orientals, seem to be against industrialization. Why are you? Krishnamurti: I do not know if many Orientals are against industrialization and if they are I do not know what reasons they would give, but I thought I explained why I consider that mere industrialization is not a solution for our human problem with its conflicts and sorrows. Mere industrialization encourages sensate value, bigger and better bathrooms, bigger and better cars, distractions, amusements and all the rest of it. External and temporal values take precedence over eternal value. Happiness, peace is sought in possessions, made by the hand or by the mind; in addiction to things or to mere knowledge. Walk down any principal street and you will see shop after shop selling the same thing in different colours, shapes; innumerable magazines and thousands of books. We want to be distracted, amused, taken away from ourselves for we are so wretched and poor, empty and sorrowful. And so where there is demand there is production and the tyranny of the machine. And we think by mere industrialization we shall solve the economic and social problem. Does it? You may temporarily, but with it come wars, revolutions, oppression, exploitation, bringing so-called civilization - industrialization with all its implications - to the uncivilized. Industrialization and the machine are here, you cannot do away with them; they take their right place only when man is not dependent for his happiness on things, only when he cultivates inner riches, the imperishable treasures of reality. Without these mere industrialization brings untold horrors; with inner treasures industrialization has a meaning. This problem is not of any country or race; it is a human issue. Without the balancing power of compassion and unworldliness you will have, through the mere increase of the production of things, of facts and of technique, bigger and better wars, economic oppression and frontiers of power, more subtle ways of deception, disunity and tyranny. A stone may change the course of a river, so a few who understand may perhaps divert this terrible course of man. But it is difficult to with stand the constant pressure of modern civilization unless one is constantly aware and so is discovering the treasures that are imperishable. Questioner: Do you think that group meditation is helpful? Krishnamurti: What is the purpose of meditation? Is not right thinking the foundation for the discovery of the Supreme? With right thinking the unknowable, the immeasurable comes into being. You must discover it, and to discover, your mind must be utterly uninfluenced. Your mind must be completely silent, still, and creatively empty. The mind must free itself from the past, from conditioning influences, cease creating value. You are the one and the many, the group and the single; you are the result of the past. There is no understanding of this whole process save through the result; you must study and examine the result which is yourself. To observe you must be detached, uninfluenced; cease to be a slave to propaganda, the subtle and the gross. The influence of environment shapes thought-feeling and from this too there must be freedom to discover the real which alone liberates. How easily we are persuaded to believe or not to believe, to act or not to act; magazines, newspapers, cinemas, radios, daily shape our thought-feeling and how few can escape from their limiting influence! One religious group believes this and another that; their thoughts-feelings are imitative, influenced, fashioned. In this imitative confusion and assertion what hope is there of finding the real! To understand this mad confusion, thought-feeling must extricate itself from it and so become clear, unbiased and simple. To discover the real, mind-heart must free itself from the tyranny of the past; it must become purely alone. How easily the collective, the congregation is used, persuaded and drugged! The discovery of the real is not to be organized; it must be sought out by each one, un-coerced, not urged by reward or punishment. When the mind ceases to create, there is creation. Questioner: Is not belief in God necessary in this terrible and ruthless world? Krishnamurti: We have had belief in God for centuries upon centuries but yet we have created a terrible world. The savage and the highly civilized priest believe in God. The primitive kills with bows and arrows and dances wildly, the civilized priest blesses the warships and the bombers and rationalizes. I am not saying this in any cynical, sneering spirit, so please do not smile. It is a grave matter. Both of them believe, and also there is the other who is nonbeliever but he also resorts to liquidating those who stand in his way. Clinging to a belief or to an ideology does not do away with killing, with oppression and exploitation. On the contrary, there have been and continue to be terrible, ruthless wars and destruction and persecution in the name of peace, in the name of God. If we can put aside these contending beliefs and ideologies and bring about a deep change in our daily life there will be a chance for a better world. It is our every day life that has brought this and previous catastrophes, horrors; our thoughtlessness, our exclusive national and economic privileges and barriers, our lack of good will and compassion have brought these wars and other disasters. Worldliness will constantly erupt in chaos and in sorrow. We are the result of the past and without understanding it, to build upon it is to invite disaster. The mind which is a result, which is put together, cannot hope to understand that which is not made up, that which is causeless, timeless. To comprehend the uncrated, the mind must cease to create. A belief is ever of the past, of the created, and such a belief becomes a hindrance to the experiencing of the real. When thought-feeling is anchored, made dependent, understanding of the real is not possible. There must be open, still freedom from the past, a spontaneous overflow of silence in which alone the real can flower. When you see a sunset, in that moment of beauty there is a spontaneous, creative joy. When you wish to repeat that experience again, there is no joy in the sunset; you try to receive that same creative happiness but it is not there. Your mind, not expecting, not wanting was capable of receiving, but having received it is greedy for more and it is this greed that blinds. Greed is accumulative and burdens the mind-heart; it is ever gathering, storing up. Thought-feeling is corrupted by greed, by the corroding waves of memory. Only through deep awareness is this engulfing process of the past brought to an end. Greed, like pleasure, is ever singularistic, limiting, and how can thought born of greed comprehend that which is immeasurable! Instead of strengthening beliefs and ideologies become aware of your thoughts-feelings, for out of them spring the issues of life. What you are the world is; if you are cruel, lustful, ignorant, greedy, so is the world. Your belief or your disbelief in God is of little significance for by your thoughts-feelings-actions, you make the world terrible and ruthless, peaceful and compassionate, barbarous or wise. Questioner: What is the source of desire? Krishnamurti: Perception, contact, sensation, want and identification cause desire. The source of desire is sensation in its lowest and highest forms. And the more you demand to be satisfied sensually the more of worldliness which seeks continuity in the hereafter. Since existence is sensation we can but understand it, not become slaves to it, and so free thought to transcend into pure awareness. The desire to be satisfied must produce the means for satisfaction, at whatever cost. Such demand, such craving can be observed, studied, intelligently understood and transcended. To be enslaved to craving is to be ignorant and sorrow is its end. Questioner: Don't you think that there is in man a principle of destruction, independent of his will to destroy and of his desire at the same time for life? Life in itself seems to be a process of destruction. Krishnamurti: In all of us there is the dormant will to destroy like anger, ill will, which extended leads to world catastrophes; and also within us there is the desire to be thoughtful and compassionate. So there is at work within us this dual process, a seemingly endless conflict. The questioner wants to know if life itself does not seem to be a destructive process. Yes, it is, if we understand it to mean that in negation is the highest comprehension. This negation is the destruction of those values that are based on the positive, on the me and the mine. As long as life is self-becoming, enclosed by the thought-feeling of me and mine, it becomes a destructive process, cruel and uncreative. The positive, assertive becoming is ultimately death dealing, which is so obviously manifest in the world at the present time. Life pursued positively as theme and the mine is conflicting and destructive. When this positive, aggressive wanting or not wanting is put an end to, there is the awareness of fear, of death, of nothingness. But if thought can go above and beyond this fear then there is ultimate reality. OJAI 7TH PUBLIC TALK 25TH JUNE, 1944 I have been trying to explain in my last few talks how to cultivate right thinking; how right thinking comes with self-knowledge. The more you are aware of your thoughts-feelings the more you are detached, and the less you identify, the greater the self-knowledge; and it is this self-knowledge that dissolves ignorance and sorrow. In understanding the self, right thinking comes into being. Virtue, as I explained, lies in freeing thought-feeling from craving; also to liberate thought there must be candor. Dependence destroys love. Craving must ever create attachment, possessiveness, from which arise jealousy, envy and those conflicts with which we are all too familiar. Where there is dependence and attachment, there love is not. In understanding relationship we will find that the cause of disturbance and pain lies in depending on another for our inward sustenance and happiness. Relationship then becomes merely a means for self-gratification which breeds attachment and fear. Relationship is a process of self-revelation; relationship is as a mirror in which you begin to discover yourself, your tendencies, pretensions, selfish and limited motives, fears and so on. In relationship, if you are aware, you will find that you are being exposed which causes conflict and pain. The thoughtful man welcomes this self-exposure to bring about order and clarity, to free his thought-feeling from isolating, self-enclosing tendencies. But most of us try to seek comfort and gratification in relationship; we do not desire to be revealed to ourselves, we do not wish to study ourselves as we are, so relationship becomes wearisome and we seek to escape. We seek peace in relationship and if we do not find it then we bring about gratifying changes till we find what we seek, dull comfort or some distraction to cover up our hollow emptiness and aching fears. But relationship will ever be painful, a constant struggle, till out of it comes deep and extensional self-knowledge. With deep self-knowledge there is inexhaustible love. If we understand relationship and the cause of dependence we do not bring about enmity and this is of primary importance. The cause of enmity in all relationship is not to be discovered if relationship is not a self-revealing process. If there is no cause for enmity, then there is neither the friend nor the enemy, the forgiver nor the forgiven. We cause enmity through pride of position, knowledge, family, capacity and so awaken in another ill will and envy. The craving to become causes fear; to be, to achieve, and so to depend engenders fear. The state of non-fear is not negation, it is not the opposite of fear nor is it courage. In understanding the cause of fear there is its cessation, not the becoming courageous, for in all becoming there is the seed of fear. Dependence on things, on people or on ideas breeds fear; dependence arises from ignorance, from the lack of self-knowledge, from inward poverty; fear causes uncertainty of mind-heart, preventing communication and understanding. Through self-awareness we begin to discover and so comprehend the cause of fear, not only the superficial but the deep causal and accumulative fears. Fear is both inborn and acquired; it is related to the past and to free thought-feeling from it the past must be comprehended through the present. The past is ever awaiting to give birth to the present which becomes the identifying memory of the me and the mine, the I. The self is the root of all fear. To inhibit or suppress fear is not to transcend it; its cause must be self-discovered and so understood and dissolved. In becoming aware of craving and its dependence, in observing with kindly detachment its ways and actions, fear yields to understanding. There are, surely, three states of awareness of every problem: first to become aware of it; then to be deeply aware of its cause and effect and of its dual process; and to transcend it the thinker and his thought must be experienced as one. Most of us are unconscious, let us say, of fear and if we are conscious of it we become apprehensive, we run away from it, suppress or cover it up. If we do none of these things then through constant awareness the cause and its processes begin to unfold themselves; if we are not impatient, if we are not greedy for a result, then this flame of awareness, which brings understanding, dissolves the cause and its ever developing processes. There is only one cause but its ways and expressions are many. Inhibiting, prohibiting fear does not create the cause of fear but only produces further factors of disturbance and suffering. Through tolerant observation of fear, through being aware of every happening of fear, it is allowed to unfold itself; by following it through, without identification, with kindly detachment, there comes creative understanding which alone dissolves the cause of fear, without developing its opposite which is another form of fear. Questioner: Why don't you face the economic and social evils instead of escaping into some dark, mystical affair? Krishnamurti: I have been trying to point out that only by giving importance to those things that are primary can the secondary issues be understood and solved. Economic and social evils are not to be adjusted without understanding what causes them. To understand them and so bring about a fundamental change, we have first to comprehend ourselves who are the cause of these evils. We have, individually and so as a group, created social and economic strife and confusion. We alone are responsible for them and thus we, individually and so perhaps collectively, can bring order and clarity. To act collectively we must begin individually; to act as a group each one must understand and change radically those causes within himself which produce the outer conflict and misery. Through legislation you may gain certain beneficial results, but without altering the inner, fundamental causes of conflict and antagonism they will be overturned and confusion will rise again; outer reforms will ever need further reform and this way leads to oppression and violence. Lasting outer order and creative peace can come about only if each one brings order and peace within himself. Each one of us, whatever his position, is seeking power, is greedy, lustful or violent; without putting an end to these in himself, by himself, mere outward reform may produce superficial results, but these will be destroyed by those who are ever seeking position, fame and so on. To bring about the necessary and fundamental change in the outer world with its wars, competition and tyrannies, surely you must begin with yourself and deeply transform yourself. You will say no doubt that in this way it will take a very long time to reform the world. What of it? Will a short, drastic superficial revolution change the inward fact? Through the sacrifice of the present will a happy future be created? Through wrong means will the right ends come into being? We have not been shown this and yet we pursue blindly, not thinking, with the result that there is utter destruction and misery. You can have peace, order, only through peaceful and orderly means. What is the purpose of outward economic and social revolutions: to liberate man, to help him think-feel fully, to live completely? But those who want immediate and quick change in the economic and social order, do they not also create the pattern of behaviour and thought; not how to think but what to think? So it cheats its own purpose and man is again a plaything of the environment. I have been trying to explain in these talks that ignorance, ill will and lust cause sorrow, and without self-purification of these hindrances we must inevitably produce outer conflict, confusion and misery. Ignorance, the lack of self-knowledge, is the greatest "evil." Ignorance prevents right thinking and gives primary emphasis to things that are secondary and so life is made empty, dull and a mechanical routine from which we seek various escapes: explosion into dogma, speculation and delusion and so on which is not mysticism. In trying to comprehend the outer world one comes to the inner and that inner, when properly pursued and rightly understood leads to the Supreme. This realization is not the fruit of escape. This realization alone will bring peace and order to the world. The world is in a chaos because we have pursued wrong values-We have given importance to sensuality, to worldliness, to personal fame or immortality which produce conflict and sorrow. True value is found in right thinking; there is no right thinking without self-knowledge and self-knowledge comes with self- awareness. Questioner: Don't you think there are peace-loving nations and aggressive nations? Krishnamurti: No. The term, nation, is separative, exclusive and so the cause of contention and wars. There is no peace loving nation; all are aggressive, dominant, tyrannical. As long as it remains a separate unit, apart from others, taking pride in segregation, in patriotism, in the race, it breeds untold misery for itself and for others. You may not have peace and yet be exclusive. You may not have economic and social, national and racial frontiers, without inviting enmity and jealousy, fear and suspicion. You may not have plenty while others starve, without inviting violence. We are not separate, we are human beings in common relationship. Your sorrow is the sorrow of another, by killing another you are destroying yourself, by hating another you suffer. For you are the other. Good will and brotherliness are not achieved through separate and exclusive nationalities and frontiers; they must be set aside to bring peace and hope for man. And besides, why do you identify yourself with any nation, with any group or with any ideology? Is it not to protect your small self, to feed your petty and death dealing vanities, sustain your own glory? What pride is there in the self which brings wars and misery, conflict and confusion? A nation is the glorification of the self and so the breeder of strife and sorrow. Questioner: I am greatly attracted and yet afraid of sex. It has become a torturing problem and how is one to solve it? Krishnamurti: It has become a consuming problem because we have ceased to be creative. Intellectually and morally we have become merely imitative machines; religiously we merely copy, accept authority and are drugged. Our education narrows us; our society, being competitive, wastes us; the cinemas, radios, newspapers are continually telling us what to think, sensually and falsely stimulating us. We seek and are fed by incessant noise. So we find a release in sex which becomes a torturing problem. Through self-awareness the repetitive habit of thought which we consider as thinking is brought into the light of understanding; by observing it, examining it with kindly detachment, suspending judgment, we shall begin to awaken creative understanding. This is the process of disengaging thought-feeling from all hindrances, limitations; when once we become aware of this process all our problems, trivial and complex, can be exposed to it and creative understanding extracted from it. So this is essential to grasp. Denial or acceptance, judgment or comparison, which mean identification, prevent the full flowering of thought-feeling. If you do not identify, then as thought-feeling flows, follow it through, think it out, feel it out as extensively and deeply as possible and so become aware of its wide and profound implications. Thus the narrow, small self-enclosed mind breaks through its self-imposed limitations and blockages. In this process of clarification there is inward, creative joy. In this manner solve the problem of lust. And as I said, mere inhibition or suppression does not solve the problem but only acts as a further factor of excitation, disturbance, only strengthening the self-enclosing process of the me and the mine. Become aware of the problem as extensively and deeply as possible and thereby discover its cause. Do not identify with the cause by judging or comparing it, condemning or accepting it, but watch that cause expressing itself in many ways; follow it through, think it out, feel it out intelligently, with tolerant detachment. In this extensional awareness the problem is resolved and transcended. There is a difference between conquering sensuality and the state of non-sensuality. In non-sensuality thought-feeling is no longer a slave to the senses and merely to conquer is to be conquered again. Awareness, find substitutions for lust is still to be lustful. There is no escape from conflict and sorrow save in right thinking. Without self-knowledge there is no right thinking. Through awareness the ways of the self are discovered and it is this discovery that liberates, that is creative. Love is chaste but a mind that plots to be is not. Questioner: Don't you think that there is a principle of destruction in life, a blind will, quite independent of man, always dormant, ready to spring into action, which can never be transcended? Krishnamurti: Surely we know that within us there are these two opposing capacities: to destroy and to create, to be good and to be harmful. Now, are they independent of each other? Is the will to destroy separate from the will to live, or is the will to live, to become, in itself a process of destruction? What makes us destroy? What makes us angry, ignorant, brutal; what urges us to kill, to seek vengeance, to deceive? is it a blind will, a thing over which we have no control whatever - let us call it the devil - an independent force of evil, or an uncontrollable ignorance? Is the urge to destroy inane or is it the response to a deeper demand to live, to be, to become? Is this reaction never to be transcended, or can it slow down to be examined and so understood? To slow down a response is possible. Or is there a blind spot which can never be examined, a result of heredity, an inborn result which has so conditioned our thinking that we are incapable of looking into it? And so we think that there is a power of destruction, of evil, which cannot be transcended. Surely anything that has been created, that has been made up, can be understood by those who have created it. This dual process of good and evil is in us to create and to destroy. We have created it and so we can understand it; but to understand it we must have the faculty of dispassionate observation of ourselves which requires great alertness and pliable awareness. Or we can say that in all of us potentially there is a dormant evil, a power that is in itself destructive. Though we may be loving, generous, merciful, this power - like an earthquake - completely impersonal, seeks an occasional outburst. And as over an earthquake, over acts of nature we have no control, so over this power we have no influence whatever. Now is this so? Can we not, in understanding ourselves, understand the causes that exist in us to destroy and to create? If first we can clear the confusion that exists in the superficial layer of our conscious mind, then into it because it is open, clear, the deeper layers of consciousness, with their contents, can project themselves. This clarification of the superficial layer comes when thought-feeling is not identifying but detached and so capable of observing without comparison and judgment. Then only can it, the conscious mind, discover what is true. Thus you can test for yourself whether there is in you an element which is absolutely beyond your control, an element which is destructive. Then you can find out whether it is the result of conditioning or whether it is ignorance or whether it is a blind spot or an independent, uncontrollable evil force. Only then can you discover whether or not you are capable of transcending it. The more you comprehend yourself and so bring about right thinking the less you will find that there is any tendency, any ignorance, any force within you that cannot be transcended. And out of this you will discover an ecstasy that comes with understanding, with wisdom. It is not the faith and the hope of the foolish. In understanding ourselves completely and thus creating the faculty to delve deeply within, we will find there is nothing that cannot be examined or understood. Out of this self-knowledge comes creative understanding; but because we do not understand ourselves there is ignorance. What thought has created thought can transcend. Questioner: Why are there so many insane, unbalanced people in the world? Krishnamurti: What is this civilization that we have built up? A civilization which is the result of craving, the dominant factor of sensory gratification. And having produced a world in which sensate value dominates, naturally the creative sensibilities are either destroyed or warped or blocked. Through the value of the senses there is no release and so individuals resort to the fabrication of delusion, consciously or unconsciously, which eventually isolates them. Unless sensate value yields to eternal value we will have delusions and strife, confusion and war. To bring a fundamental change in value you must become thoughtful and discard those values of the self, of craving, through constant awareness and self-knowledge. Questioner: I am intensely lonely. I cannot seem to go beyond this misery. What am I to do? Krishnamurti: This is not an individual problem only; the whole human thought feels lonely. If we could think this out, feel this out deeply we would be able to transcend it. As I explained, we create through craving a dual process in ourselves, and thus there arises the I, the me, the self and the not-self, my work, my achievement and so on. Having created through craving this conflicting process of the I and not I, its natural outcome is isolation, utter loneliness. In relationship, in action, if there is any self-enclosing thought-feeling it is bound to buildup isolating walls which cause intense loneliness. Craving engenders fear, fear nourishes dependence, dependence on things, people or ideas. The greater the dependence the greater the inward poverty. Becoming aware of this poverty, loneliness, you try to enrich it, try to fill it with knowledge or activity, with amusement or mystery. The more you try to fill it, to cover it up, the more deeply does the real cause of loneliness get buried. The self is insatiable and there is no satisfying it. It is as a broken vessel, a bottomless pit which can never be filled. By becoming aware of thought-feeling creating its own bondage and dependence and thus bringing about isolation; by becoming aware of the cultivation of sensate values which must inevitably bring inward poverty; out of this very awareness, out of this extensional, meditative understanding there is discovered the imperishable treasure. Through this constant awareness, if rightly unfolded, ever deeper and wider, there comes into being the serenity and joy of highest wisdom. OJAI 8TH PUBLIC TALK 2ND JULY, 1944 In the last few talks we have been discussing how to develop the faculty with which to discover what is true, in which alone is serenity and creative peace. This faculty is to be developed, as I explained, through right thinking - right thinking which is different from right, conditioned thought. In becoming aware we come upon the conflict of duality which if we do not deeply comprehend will lead to wrong kinds of effort. Right effort consists in thought-feeling freeing itself from this conflict of merit and demerit, the becoming and the not-becoming. To develop the perception of truth there must be candor, integrity of understanding, which can come only with humility. As I explained, virtue does not lie in developing qualities, which is to cultivate the opposites and so engender wrong effort; but in freeing thought-feeling from craving virtue comes into being. And we somewhat discussed relationship, dependence, fear and love; how to set about freeing thought-feeling from dependence and fear which corrupt love. I said that this morning we would try to understand what makes for a simple life. Simple life is freedom from acquisitiveness, freedom from addiction and freedom from distraction. Freedom from acquisitiveness surely lies in understanding the cause that breeds in us the conflict of greed and envy. The more we acquire the greater the demand for possessions and to deny, to say, "I will not acquire" in no way solves the problem of greed and envy. But in watching it, in becoming aware of the process of acquisition and envy on all the different levels of our consciousness, we begin to understand their deeper significance, with all the economic, social and inward implications. This state of acquisitive conflict, competitive possessiveness is not conducive to simple life which is essential to understand the real. So if you become aware of acquisitiveness with its problems - not putting yourself in opposition to it and therefore developing the quality of non-acquisitiveness, which is only another form of greed - you will begin to be aware of its deeper and wider implications. Then you will begin to understand that a mind caught up in greed and envy cannot experience the bliss of truth. A mind which is competitive, held in the conflict of becoming, thinking in terms of comparison, is not capable of discovering the real. Thought-feeling which is intensely aware is in the process of constant self-discovery which discovery, being true, is liberating and creative. Such self-discovery brings about freedom from acquisitiveness and from the complex life of the intellect. It is this complex life of the intellect that finds gratification in addictions: destructive curiosity, speculation, mere knowledge, capacity, gossip and so on; and these hindrances prevent simplicity of life. An addiction, a specialization gives sharpness to the mind, a means of focussing thought, but it is not the flowering of thought-feeling into reality. The freedom from distraction is more difficult as we do not fully understand the process of thinking-feeling which in itself has become the means of distraction. Being ever incomplete, capable of speculative curiosity and formulation, it has the power to create its own hindrances, illusions, which prevent the awareness of the real. So it becomes its own distraction, its own enemy. As the mind is capable of creating illusion this power must be understood before it can be wholly free from its own self-created distractions. Mind must be utterly still, silent, for all thought becomes a distraction. Craving is the distorting factor and how can the mind that is capable of delusion know the simple, the real? Till craving in its multiple forms is understood and transcended, there is no joy of the inward, simple, full life. If you begin to be aware of the outward distractions and so trace them to the cause which is inner, then thought-feeling, which in itself has become the means of its own escape, its own cause of ignorance, will disentangle itself from the jungle of distractions. Through becoming aware of the outward distractions - possessions, relationships, amusements, pleasures, addictions - and by thinking-feeling them out, the inner distractions - escapes, knowledge, speculations, self-protective beliefs, memories and so on - are discovered. When there is an awareness of the outer and inner distractions there comes deep understanding, and only then is there a natural and easy withdrawal from them. For thought-feeling to discipline itself not to be distracted, prevents the understanding of the nature and cause of distraction, and so discipline itself becomes an escape, a means of distraction. Simple life does not consist in the mere possession of a few things but in the freedom from possession and non-possession, in the indifference to things that comes with deep understanding. Merely to renounce things in order to reach greater happiness, greater joy that is promised, is to seek reward which limits thought and prevents it from flowering and discovering reality. To control thought-feeling for a greater reward, for a greater result, is to make it petty, ignorant and sorrowful. Simplicity of life comes with inner richness, with inward freedom from craving, with freedom from acquisitiveness, from addiction, from distraction. From this simple life there comes that necessary one-pointedness which is not the outcome of self-enclosing concentration but of extensional awareness and meditative understanding. Simple life is not the result of outward circumstances; contentment with little comes with the riches of inward understanding. If you depend on circumstances to make you satisfied with life then you will create misery and chaos, for then you are a plaything of environment, and it is only when circumstances are transcended through understanding that there is order and clarity. To be constantly aware of the process of acquisitiveness, of addiction, of distraction, brings freedom from them and so there is a true and simple life. Questioner: My son was killed in this war. I have another son twelve years old and I do not want to lose him too, in another war. How is another war to be prevented? Krishnamurti: I am sure this same question must be put by every mother and father throughout the world. it is a universal problem. And I wonder what price the parents are willing to pay to prevent another war, to prevent their sons from being killed, to prevent this appalling human slaughter; how much they really mean when they say that they love their children, that war must be prevented, that they must have brotherhood, that a way must be found to stop all wars. To create a new way of life you must have a new revolutionary way of thinking-feeling. You will have another war, you are bound to have another war, if you are thinking in terms of nationalities, of racial prejudices, of economic and social frontiers. If each one really considers in his heart how to prevent another war he must put aside his nationality, his particular specialized religion, his greed and ambition. If you do not you will have another war for these prejudices and the adherence to specialized religions are merely the outward expressions of your selfishness, ignorance, ill will, lust. But you will answer that it will take a very long time for each one of us to change and so to convince others of this point of view; society is not prepared to receive this idea; politicians are not interested in it; the leaders are incapable of this conception of one universal government or State without separate sovereignties. You might say that it is an evolutionary process which will gradually bring about this necessary change. If you replied in this manner to the parent whose son is going to be killed in another war and if he really loved his son, do you think he would find hope in this gradual evolutionary process? He wants to save his son, and he wants to know what is the surest way to stop all wars. He will not be satisfied with your gradual evolutionary theory. Is this evolutionary theory of gradual peace true or invented by us to rationalize our lazy and egotistic thought-feeling? Is it not incomplete and so not true? We think that we must go through the various states, the family, the group, the nation and the internation and then only will we have peace. It is but a justification of our egotism and narrowness, bigotry and prejudice; instead of sweeping away these dangers we invent a theory of progressive growth and sacrifice to it the happiness of others and ourselves. If we apply our mind and heart to the disease of ignorance and selfishness, then we shall create a sane and happy world. We must not think and feel horizontally but vertically. That is, instead of following the course of lazy, selfish, ignorant thought-feeling of gradualism, of slow enlightenment through the process of time, of following this stream of continual conflict and misery, of constant mass murder and a period of rest from it - called peace - and an eventual paradise on earth; instead of thinking-feeling along these horizontal lines, can we not think - feel vertically? Is it not possible to pull ourselves out of the horizontal continuance of confusion and strife and to think-feel away from it, anew, without the sense of time, vertically? Without thinking in terms of evolution which helps to rationalize our laziness and postponement, can we not think-feel directly, simply? The love of the mother thinks-feels directly and simply but her egotism, her national pride and so on help her to think - feel in terms of gradualism, horizontally. The present is the eternal, neither the past nor the future can reveal it; through the present only the time less is realized. If You really desire to save your son and so mankind from another war, then you must pay the price for it: not to be greedy, not to have ill will and not to be worldly; for lust, ill will and ignorance breed conflict, confusion and antagonism; they breed nationalism, pride and the tyranny of the machine. If you are willing to free yourself from lust, ill will and ignorance, then only will you save your son from another war. To bring happiness to the world, to put an end to this mass murder, there must be complete inward revolution of thought- feeling which brings about new morality, a morality not of the sensate but based on freedom from sensuality, worldliness and the craving for personal immortality. Questioner: You talk of meditative awareness but you never talk of prayer. Are you opposed to prayer? Krishnamurti: In opposition there is no understanding. Most of us indulge in petitionary prayer and this form of prayer cultivates, strengthens duality, the observer and the observed, which are a joint phenomenon. Only when this duality ceases is there the whole. However much you may petition your answer will be according to your demand, but it will not be of the real. The answer to a desire is in the desire itself. When the mind-heart is utterly still, utterly silent, then only is there the whole, the eternal. Some time ago I saw a person who said he had been praying to God and one of his petitions was for a refrigerator. Please do not laugh. And he had acquired not only a refrigerator but also a house, so his prayers were answered and God was a reality, he asserted. When you ask you will receive but you will have to pay for it; according to your demands you are answered but there is a price for it. Greed replies to greed. When you ask out of greed, out of fear, out of want, you will have an answer but you must pay for it and you pay for it through wars, strife and misery. The centuries of greed, cruelty, ill will, ignorance manifest themselves when you call upon them. So to indulge in prayer without self-knowledge, without understanding, is disastrous. The meditative awareness of which I have been speaking is the outcome of self-knowledge in which alone there is right thinking, and it is this that frees the mind-heart from the dual process of the observer and the observed, for they are a joint phenomenon, a joint occurrence. The observer is ever conditioning the observed and it is extremely difficult to go beyond the observer and the observed, to go beyond and above the created. The thinker and his thought must cease for the Eternal to be. I have been trying to explain in my talks how to clarify the confusion that exists between the observer and the observed, the thinker and his thought, through self-knowledge and right thinking. For without self-clarification, the observer is ever conditioning the observed and so can not go beyond himself and becomes imprisoned. He is caught in his own delusion. For the realization of that which is not created, not made up, thought-feeling must transcend the created, the result, the self; thought-feeling must cease to demand, cease to acquire, cease to be distracted by any form of ritualism and memory. If you will experiment you will discover how extremely difficult it is for thought to be wholly free from its own chattering and creation. Only when it is so free, only when the observer and the observed have ceased, is there the Immeasurable. Questioner: I have been writing down as you suggested. I find that I cannot get beyond the trivial thoughts. Is it because the conscious mind refuses to acknowledge the subconscious cravings and demands, and so escapes into an empty blockade? Krishnamurti: I suggested that to slow down the mind in order to examine the thought-feeling process, you should write down every thought-feeling. If one wishes to understand, for example, a machine of high revolution one has to slow it down, not stop it for then it becomes merely a dead matter; but make it turn gently, slowly, to study its structure, its movement. Likewise if we wish to understand our mind, we must slow down our thinking - not put a stop to it - slow it down in order to study it, to follow it to its fullest extent. And to do this I suggested that you should write down every thought-feeling. It is not possible to write down every thought and feeling for there are too many of them, but if you attempted to write a little every day you would soon begin to know yourself; you would begin to be aware of the many layers of your consciousness, of their interrelation and inter-response. This awareness is difficult but if you would go far you must begin near. Now, the questioner finds his thoughts are trivial and that he cannot get beyond them. He wants to know if this triviality is the result of an escape from the deeper cravings and demands. Partly it is and also our thoughts and feelings are in themselves petty, trivial, small. The root of understanding lies through the small, the trivial. Without understanding the small, thought-feeling cannot go beyond itself. You must become aware of your trivialities, your narrowness, your prejudices to understand them, and you can understand only when there is humility, when there is neither judgment nor comparison, acceptance nor denial. Thus there is the beginning of wisdom. Most of our thought-feeling is trivial. Why not recognize and understand its cause: the self, the result of vast and petty ignorance? Just as in following a thin vein you may come upon riches so if you follow, think - out, feel-out the trivial you will discover deep treasures. The small may hide the deep but you must follow it. The trivial if you study it gives promise of something beyond. Do not brush it aside but become aware of every thought-feeling for it has a significance. The blockages may occur either because the conscious mind does not want to respond to deeper demands, which may necessitate a different course of action and so bring about trouble and pain, or it is incapable of wider and deeper thought-feeling. If it is the lack of capacity, you can create it only through persistent and constant awareness, through searching, observing, studying. I only suggested writing down every thought-feeling as a means of cultivating this comprehensive, extensional awareness which is not the concentration of exclusion, not the concentration of self-enclosing isolation. This extensional awareness comes through understanding, not through mere judgment or comparison, denial or acceptance. Questioner: What guarantee have I that the new faculty of which you speak will come into being? Krishnamurti: I am afraid none what ever! This is not an investment, surely. If you are seeking surety then you will meet death but if you are uncertain, therefore adventuring, seeking, the real will be discovered. We want to be guaranteed, we want to be sure of the result before we even try for we are lazy and thoughtless and do not wish to set out on the long journey of self-discovery. We do not apply ourselves; we want enlightenment to be given to us in exchange for our effort which indicates possessive security. In security there is no discovery of the real; this search for security is self-protectiveness and in the self there is ignorance and sorrow. To understand, to discover the real, there must be the abandonment of the self; there must be negative comprehension for that which lies beyond all the cunning schemes of the self. What is discovered in the search of self-knowledge is true and it is this truth that is liberating and creative - not my guarantee that you will be liberated which would be utter folly. We are in conflict, in confusion, in sorrow and it is this suffering, not any promise of reward, that must be the compelling force to seek, to search out and to discover the real. This search must be made by each one of us and self-knowledge is to be cultivated through constant self-awareness; right thinking comes with self-knowledge which alone brings peace and understanding. The end is made distant through greed. Questioner: Is it wrong to have a Master, a spiritual teacher on another plane of existence? Krishnamurti: I have tried to answer the same question put indifferent ways at different times but apparently few wish to understand. Superstition is difficult to throw off for the mind creates it and becomes its prisoner. How difficult it is to find what is true in what one reads, in one's daily relationship and thought! Prejudice, tendency, conditioning dictate our choice; to discover what is true these must be set aside; mind must discard its own self-restricting, narrow thoughts-feelings. To discover what is true in our thoughts, feelings and actions is extremely difficult and how much more difficult it is to discern the true in a supposedly spiritual world! If we want a teacher, a guru, it is sufficiently difficult to find a physical one and how much more complex, deceptive, confusing it must be to search out a teacher in a so-called spiritual world, in another plane of existence. Even if a supposedly spiritual teacher chooses you, you are really the chooser - not the supposed teacher. If you do not understand yourself in this world of action and interaction, of lust, ill will and ignorance, how can you trust your judgment, your capacity to discern, in a supposedly spiritual world! If you do not know yourself, how can you discern what is true? How do you know that your own mind which has the power to create illusion has not created the Master, the teacher? Is it not vanity that persuades you to seek the Master and be chosen? There is a story of a pupil going to a teacher and requesting him to lead him to the Master; the teacher said that he would only if he, the pupil, did exactly as he was told. The pupil was delighted. For seven years he was told he must live in the nearby cave and there follow the teacher's instruction. He was told that first he must sit quietly, peacefully, in concentrated thought; then in the second year he was to invite the Master into the cave; the third he was to make the Master sit with him; in the fourth he was to talk with him; in the fifth year he was to make the Master move about in the cave; in the sixth to make him leave the cave. After the sixth year the teacher asked the pupil to come out and said to him, "Now you know who the Master is." The mind has the power to create ignorance or to discern what is true. In this search for the Master, there is always in it the desire to gain and so there arises fear; and a mind that is seeking a reward and so inviting fear, cannot understand what is true. It is the height of ignorance to think in terms of reward and punishment, of the superior and the inferior. Besides can anyone help you to discover what is true in your own thoughts-feelings? Others may point out but you yourself have to search out and discover what is true. If you look to another to be saved from suffering and ignorance, from this chaotic and barbarous world, you will only create further confusion and ill will, further ignorance and sorrow. You are responsible for your own thoughts-feelings-actions; you alone can bring clarity and order; you alone can save yourself from yourself; by your understanding alone can you transcend greed, ill will and ignorance. Each one of us, here, I hope, is trying to seek the real, the imperishable, and is not to be distracted by the beauty of wayside shrines, by the trimmings of the sign post, by ritualism. There is no authority that can lead you to the ultimate reality and that reality lies in the beginning as in the end. Do not stop at the sign posts nor be caught up in the pettiness of groups, nor become enamoured of the chanting, of the incense, of the ritual. The reliance on another for self-knowledge adds more ignorance, for the other is yourself. The root of understanding is hidden in yourself. The perception of the true lies in right thinking, in humility, in compassion, in simple life, not in the authority of another. The authority of another, however great, leads to further ignorance and sorrow. OJAI 9TH PUBLIC TALK 9TH JULY, 1944 It is important at all times and especially in times of much suffering and confusion to find for ourselves that inward creative joy and understanding. We have to discover it for ourselves but sensuousness, prosperity and personal power, in all their different forms, prevent creative peace and happiness. If we use our energies for the gratification of the senses we will inevitably create values which will bring prosperity, worldliness, but with these come war, confusion and sorrow. If we seek personal immortality we will nourish the greed for power which expresses itself in many ways: national, racial, economic and so on, from which flow great disasters with which we are all familiar. We have been discussing during the last eight talks these matters. It is necessary to understand ourselves, for in understanding ourselves we will begin to think rightly and in the process of right thinking we will discover what it means to live deeply and creatively and to realize that which is beyond all measure. To live fully and creatively there must be self-knowledge; and to know, there must be candor and humility, love and thought freed from fear. Virtue lies in the freedom from craving and craving brings multiplicity and repetition and makes life complex, tormenting and sorrowful. A simple life, as I explained, does not merely consist in the possession of few things, but in right livelihood and in the freedom from distractions, addictions and possessiveness. Freedom from acquisitiveness will create the means of right livelihood but there are certain obvious wrong means. Greed, tradition and the desire for power will bring about the wrong means of livelihood. Even in these times when everybody is harnessed to a particular kind of work, it is possible to find right occupation. Each one must become aware of the issues of wrong occupation with its disasters and miseries, weary routine and death dealing ways. Is it not necessary for each one to know for himself what is the right means of livelihood? If we are avaricious, envious, seeking power, then our means of livelihood will correspond to our inward demands and so produce a world of competition, ruthlessness, oppression, ultimately ending in war. So surely it is imperative that each one should think over his problem; perhaps you will not be able to do anything immediately but at least you can think-feel seriously about it, which will bring its own action. Talent and capacity have their own dangers and if we are not aware we become slaves to them. This slavery produces antisocial action, bringing misery and destruction to man. Without right understanding talent and capacity become an end in themselves and so disaster follows, for him who has it and for his fellowman. Without the discovery and the understanding of the real, there is no creative joy, no peace; our life will be a constant struggle and pain; our actions and relationships will have no significance; outward legislation and compulsion will never produce inward riches, treasures that are imperishable. To understand the real, we must become aware of the process of our thinking, of the way of our memory and of the interrelated layers of our consciousness. Our thought is the result of the past. Our being is founded on the past. Organically and in thought we are copies. Organically we can understand the copies that we are and we can, by understanding them, comprehend their reactions, imitative actions and responses. But if our thought-feeling is merely imitative, the result of mere tradition and environment, there is little hope of going beyond itself. But if we recognize and understand the limits of environmental influences and are capable of going beyond their imitative restrictions, then we shall find that there is a freedom from copy in which is the real. A copy, a thing that is put together, the self, can never understand that which is not made up, the uncrated. It is only when the copy, the self, the me and the mine ceases that there is the ecstasy of the imperishable. The self thinks-feels in terms of gathering, accumulating, experiencing; it thinks-feels in terms of the past, of the future or of continuing the present. This accumulative process of memory strengthens the self which is the cause of ignorance and sorrow. Without understanding the ways of the self, those of us who are politically and socially inclined are apt to sacrifice the present with the hope of creating a better world in the future; or there are some who wish to continue the present; or there are those who look to the past. Without understanding the self and transcending it, all such actions must end in calamity. In becoming aware of the process of the self with its accumulative memory, we shall begin to understand its time-binding quality, the craving for continued identification. Till we understand the nature of the self and transcend its time-binding quality, there can be no peace, no happiness. As the self is, so is the environment, political and social. It is the time-binding quality of the self with its identifying memory that must be studied, understood and so transcended. Desire, especially pleasurable desire, is singularistic; and it is memory that gives identified continuity to the me and the mine. Thought-feeling which is ever in movement, ever in flux, when it identifies itself with the me and the mine becomes time-binding, giving identified continuity to memory, to the self. It is this memory which is ever increasing and multiplying that must be abandoned. It is this memory that is the cause of copy, of the movement of thought from the known to the known, thus preventing the realization of truth, the uncrated. Memory must become as a shell without a living organism in it. To discover the unknowable reality, we have to transcend the time - binding quality of the self, the identifying memory. This is an arduous task. Through meditative awareness the binding process of memory is to be understood; through constant awareness of every thought-feeling craving for identity is observed and understood. Thus through alert and passive awareness, thought-feeling frees itself from the time-binding quality of memory of the me and the mine. It is only when the self ceases to create that there is the uncrated. Questioner: In the Bhagavad Gita, Krishna urges Arjuna to enter into battle. You say right means to right ends. Are you opposed to the teachings of Krishna? Krishnamurti: Perhaps some of you have not heard of this book; it is the sacred book of the Hindus in which Krishna, supposed to be the manifestation of God, urges Arjuna, the warrior, to enter into battle. Now, the questioner wants to know if I am opposed to this teaching which urges Arjuna to fight. This teaching can be interpreted in many ways, each interpretation creating contention. We can think of many interpretations but I do not want to indulge in speculation which would be futile. Let us think-feel without the crippling burden of spiritual authority. This is of primary importance to understand the real. To accept authority, especially in matters that concern right thinking is utterly foolish. To accept authority is binding, hindering and the worship of authority is self-worship. It is a form of laziness, thoughtlessness, leading to ignorance and sorrow. Most of us desire to have a world in which there is peace and brotherhood, in which ruthlessness and war have no place, in which there is kindliness and tolerance. How are we to achieve it? To bring about right ends surely right means must be employed. If you would have tolerance, you must be tolerant, you must put away intolerance from you. If you would have peace, you must use right means for it, not wrong methods, brutality and violence. This is obvious is it not? If you would be friends with another, you must show courtesy and kindliness; there must be no anger, no cause for enmity. So you must use right means to create right ends, for in the very means is the end. They are not separate; they do not lie distant. So if you would have peace in this world, you must use peaceful methods. You may have right ends but wrong means will not achieve them. Surely this is an obvious fact but unfortunately we are carried away by repetitive authority, by propaganda, by ignorance. The thing in itself is simple and clear. If you would have a brotherly, unified world, then you must put away the causes of disruption: enmity, jealousy, acquisitiveness, nationality, racial difference, pride and so on. But very few of us are willing to put aside our craving for power, our specialized religion, our ill will and so on; we are unwilling to abandon these and yet we want peace, a non-competitive and sane world! You cannot have peace in the world except through peaceful means. You must eradicate in yourself the causes of enmity by right and intelligent means, by right thinking. Self-knowledge cultivates right thinking. But as most of us are ignorant of ourselves and as our thinking-feeling is self-contradictory our thought is non-existent. So we are led, driven and made to accept. Through constant awareness of every thought-feeling the ways of the self are known, and out of self-knowledge comes right thinking. Right thinking will create the right means for a sane and peaceful world. Questioner: How am I to get rid of hate? Krishnamurti: There are similar questions with regard to ignorance, anger, jealousy. In answering this particular question, I hope to answer the others also. A problem cannot be solved on its own plane, on its own level. It must be understood and so dissolved from a different and deeper level of abstraction. If we wish merely to get rid of hate by suppressing it or treating it as a tiresome and interfering thing then we shall not dissolve it; it will reoccur again and again in different forms for we are dealing with it on its own limited, petty level. But if we begin to understand its inner causes and its outer effects, and so make our thought-feeling wider and deeper, sharper and clearer, then hate will disappear naturally, for we are concerned with deeper and more important levels of thoughts-feelings. If we are angry and if we are able to suppress it, or so control ourselves that it does not rise up again, our mind is still as small and insensitive as before. What has been gained by this effort not to be angry if our thought-feeling is still envious and fearful, narrow and enclosed? We may get rid of hate or anger, but if the mind-heart is still stupid and petty it will create again other problems and other antagonisms and so there is no end to conflict. But if we begin to be aware and so understand the causes of anger and their effects, then surely we are widening and freeing thought-feeling from ignorance and conflict. In becoming aware we shall begin to discover the causes of anger or of hate which are self-protective fears in different forms. Through awareness we discover we are angry, perhaps, because our particular belief is being attacked; on examining it further we question if belief, creed, are necessary at all. We become more aware of its wider significance; we perceive how dogmas, ideologies divide people, giving cause to antagonism, to various forms of cruel and stupid absurdities. So through this extensional awareness, through comprehension of its inward significance, anger soon fades away; through this process of self-awareness the mind has become deeper, quieter, wiser and so the causes of hate and anger have no place in it. In freeing thought-feeling from anger and hate, from greed and ill will, there comes a gentleness, the only cure. This gentleness, compassion, is not the result of suppression or substitution but is the outcome of self-knowledge and right thinking. Questioner: Though you have talked about it, I find concentration extremely difficult. Would you kindly go into it again? Krishnamurti: Is not interested attention necessary if we would understand? Especially is it necessary if we would understand ourselves, for our thoughts and feelings are so vagrant, quick and apparently disconnected. To understand ourselves an extensional awareness is essential, not an exclusive mind with its rejections and judgments, not a narrowing concentration. From extensional awareness comes one pointedness, true concentration. Now why is it that we find concentration so difficult? Is it not because most of our thinking is a distraction, a dissipation? Either through habit, laziness or through interests, or because our thought-feeling has not completed itself, thought wanders or is repetitive. If it wanders because of interest merely to suppress or control thought is of little use, for such suppression and control is another additional factor for further disturbance. Thought will revert to that interest, however trivial, over and over again till all its value ceases. So if thought wanders because of interest why not think it through instead of resisting it? Go with it, become aware of all its implications, study it disinterestedly till that particular thought, however stupid and petty, is understood and so dissolved. Thus you will discover through this process of extensional awareness that repetitive thoughts of trivial interest cease; and they cease only when you consciously think-feel them out, not suppress them. If thought wanders because of habit it is indicative and to become aware of it is important. If thought-feeling is caught in habit it is merely mechanical repetition and copy, and so is not thinking at all. If you examine such habit of thought you will perceive that it might be caused by education, through fear of opinion, through religious upbringing, through environmental influence and so on. So your thought follows a groove, a pattern which reveals your own state of being. It might be through laziness that thought wanders. Again this is also very indicative, is it not? To be aware of laziness is to become alert but to be unaware of it is to be truly lazy. We allow ourselves to become lazy through wrong diet, not paying sufficient attention to health or through circumstances or relationships that put us to sleep and so on. Thus when we become aware of the causes of our laziness we may produce inward disturbances which have outward effect, and so we may prefer to be lazy. Or thought is repetitive because it is never allowed to complete itself. Just as an unfinished letter becomes a source of irritation so unfinished thought-feeling becomes repetitive. Through constant awareness you will begin to find out for yourself why your thought-feeling wanders or is repetitive, whether because of interest or habit or laziness, or because it is not completed. If you pursue your thoughts-feelings diligently, alertly, with passive disinterested watchfulness, there comes an extensional concentration which is essential for the understanding of the real. A mind that is formulating, creating, cannot understand creation, the uncrated. How can a chattering, noisy mind comprehend the immeasurable? Of what value is a beautiful piece of art to a child? It will play with it and is soon tired of it. So it is with most of us. We believe or disbelieve; we have other people's experiences and knowledge. Our minds are petty, cruel, ignorant. Our minds are broken up, there is no integration and stillness. How can such a mind understand that which is beyond all measure, beyond all formulation! To be truly concentrated all valuation must cease. Awareness flows into deep and quiet pools of meditation. Questioner: Do I not owe something to my race, to my nation, to my group? Krishnamurti: What is your nation, your race? Each people say its nation, its group, its race. Out of this thoughtless assertion there is confusion and conflict, untold sorrow and degradation. You and I are one; there is neither the East nor the West. We are human beings, not labels. We have artificially created nations, races, groups in opposition to other nations; races and groups. We have created them, you and I, in our search for power and fame; in our desire to be exclusive; in our delight in those singularistic, self-enclosing cravings; through greed, ill will and ignorance we have created national, racial and economic barriers. We have artificially separated ourselves from our fellow men. Does a thoughtful man owe something to that which is the out come of ill will and ignorance? If you are still part of the nation, the group, the race, the result of fear and greed, then being of it you are responsible for sorrow and cruelty. Then what you are your race, your nation, your group is. Then how can you owe something to that of which you are a part? Only when you put yourself in opposition to the mass, then in your individualistic, exclusive response debt is incurred. But surely such a reaction is false for you are the group, the nation, the race; out of you it has come into being; without you it is not. So the question is not whether you are indebted to it but how to transcend it; how to go beyond the causes that have produced this separative, exclusive existence. By asking yourself what is your duty, your karma, your relationship with the mass, with the nation, you are putting to yourself a wrong question which will have only a wrong answer. You have created the nation in your desire for self-worship, for self-glory and any answer to that will still be conditioned by your craving. An answer to a desire is in the desire itself. So the question is how to transcend the responses of individuality, of the mass or of the nation. You can go above and beyond them only through self-awareness in which the self, the cause of conflict, antagonism and ignorance, is observed disinterestedly and so understood and dissolved. The price of right thinking is its own reward. Questioner: Are there different paths to Reality? Krishnamurti: Would you not put the question differently? Each one of us has several tendencies, each tendency creating its own difficulties. in each one of us there is a dominant tendency, intellectual, emotional or sensuous; a tendency towards knowledge, devotion or action. Each has its own complexity and trial. If you pursue one exclusively, rejecting the others, you will not discover completeness, reality; but by becoming aware of the difficulties of each tendency, thus understanding them, the whole is realized. When we ask if there are not different paths to reality, do we not mean the difficulties and hindrances which each tendency meets with and how they are transcended so as to discover the real? To transcend them you have to become aware of each tendency and watch it with disinterested passive alertness; and through understanding its conflicts and trials go beyond and above it. Through constant meditative awareness these various tendencies with their hindrances and joys are understood and made whole. OJAI 10TH PUBLIC TALK 16TH JULY, 1944 I have been saying that to lay emphasis on the immediate does not solve the very complex human problem. I mean by the immediate, the urgent consideration of the senses and their gratification. That is, to lay emphasis on the economic and social values instead of on the primary and eternal, leads to distorted and terrible actions. The immediate becomes the future when sensate values and their gratifications are promised by sacrificing the present; when the present is sacrificed in the hope of a future happiness or of a future economic well being, then is the beginning of cruel thoughtlessness and disaster. Such emphasis must inevitably lead to further chaos for in giving importance to that which is secondary, we miss the whole, the real, and so bring about confusion and misery. Each one must become aware, must think out and feel out for himself what is involved in giving primary importance to the gratification of sensory desires. To yield to the values of the senses is to ultimately bring about war, economic and social catastrophes. To seek enrichment in things, made by hand or by mind, is to create inward poverty which brings untold misery. Accumulation and its importance deprives thought-feeling of the realization of the real which alone will bring order, clarity and happiness. If one seeks first to cultivate the inner, the real, then the secondary, the economic and social order will come wisely into being; otherwise there will be constant economic and social upheavals, wars and confusion. In seeking the Eternal we will be able to bring order and clarity. The part is never the whole and the cultivation of the part brings ceaseless confusion, conflict and antagonism. To comprehend the whole we must first understand ourselves. The root of understanding lies in oneself and without the understanding of oneself there is no comprehension of the world; for the world is oneself. The other, the friend, the relation, the enemy, the neighbour, near or far, is yourself. Self-knowledge is the beginning of right thinking and in the process of self-knowledge the Infinite is discovered. The book of self-knowledge has no beginning and no end. It is a constant process of discovery and what is discovered is true and truth is liberating, creative. If in that process of self-understanding we seek a result, such a result is binding, enclosing and hindering and so the Immeasurable, the Timeless is not discovered. To seek a result is to search out value which is to cultivate craving and so to engender ignorance, conflict and sorrow. If we are seeking to understand, to read this complex rich book, then we will discover its infinite riches. To read this book of self-knowledge is to become aware. Through self-awareness each thought-feeling is examined with out judgment and thus allowed to flower which brings understanding; for in following each thought-feeling fully we will find that in it all thinking is contained. We can think - feel completely only when we are not seeking a result, an end. In this process of self-knowledge right thinking comes into being; and right thinking frees the mind from craving. The freedom from craving is virtue. Mind must free itself from craving, the cause of ignorance and sorrow. For the mind to be virtuous, to be free from craving, complete candor, honesty, which comes with humility, is essential. And such integrity is not a virtue, not an end in itself but is a byproduct of thought freeing itself from the process of craving, which principally expresses itself in sensuality, in prosperity or worldliness, impersonal immortality or fame. Thought in freeing itself from craving will comprehend the nature of fear and so in transcending it there will be love which is in itself eternal. Simple life does not consist merely with the contentment of a few things but rather in the freedom from acquisitiveness, dependence and distraction, inner and outer. Through constant awareness the time-binder, the identifying process of memory which builds up the self, is thus dissolved. Only then can the ultimate reality come into being. To understand oneself, this complex entity, is most difficult. A mind that is burdened with value and prejudice, judgment and comparison cannot comprehend itself. Self-knowledge comes with choiceless awareness and when craving no longer distorts thought-feeling then in that fullness, when the mind is utterly still, creatively empty, the Highest is. Questioner: I had son who was killed in this war. He did not want to die. He wanted to live and Prevent this horror being repeated. Was it my fault that he was killed? Krishnamurti: It is the fault of every one of us that this present horror is going on. It is the outward result of our every day inner life of greed, ill will and lust, of competition, acquisitiveness and specialized religion. It is the fault of everyone who, indulging in these, has created this terrible calamity. Because we are nationalistic, singularistic, passionate, each one of us is contributing to this mass murder. You have been taught how to kill and how to die, but not how to live. If you wholeheartedly abhorred killing and violence in any form then you would find ways and means to live peacefully and creatively. If that were your chief and primary interest then you would search out every cause, every instinct that makes for violence, for hatred, for mass murder. Are you so wholeheartedly interested in stopping war? If you are then you must eradicate in yourself the causes of violence and killing for any reason whatsoever. If you wish to stop wars then there must take place a deep, inner revolution of tolerance and compassion; then thought-feeling must free itself from patriotism, from its identification with any group, from greed and those causes that breed enmity. A mother told me that to give up these things would not only be extremely difficult but also would mean great loneliness and utter isolation which she could not face. So was she not responsible for untold misery? You might agree with her and so by your laziness, thoughtlessness, add fuel to the ever increasing flames of war. If, on the contrary, you attempted seriously to eradicate the causes of enmity and violence in yourself, there would be peace and joy in your heart which would have immediate effect about you. We must re-educate ourselves not to murder, not to liquidate each other for any cause however righteous it may appear to be for the future happiness of mankind, for an ideology however promising; not merely be educated technically, which inevitably makes for ruthlessness; but to be content with little, to be compassionate and to seek the Supreme. The prevention of this ever increasing destruction and horror depends on each one of us, not on any organization or planning, not on any ideology, not on the inventions of greater instruments of destruction, not on any leader but on each one of us. Do not think that wars cannot be stopped by so humble and lowly a beginning -a stone may alter the course of a river - to go far you must begin near. To understand the world chaos and misery you must comprehend your own confusion and sorrow, for out of these come the magnified issues of the world. To understand yourself there must be constant meditative awareness which will bring to the surface the causes of violence and hate, greed and ambition, and by studying them without identification, thought will transcend them. For none can lead you to peace save yourself; there is no leader, no system that can bring war, exploitation, oppression to an end save yourself. Only by your thoughtfulness, by your compassion, by your awakened understanding can there be established good will and peace. Questioner: Though you explained last week how to get rid of hate, would you mind going into it again as I feel that what you said was of great importance. Krishnamurti: Hate is the result of a petty mind, of a small mind. A narrow mind is intolerant. A mind that is in bondage is capable of resentment. Now, a little mind saying to itself that it must not hate still remains little. An ignorant mind is the cause of enmity and of conflict. So the problem then is not how to get rid of hate but rather how to destroy ignorance, the self, that causes narrow thought-feeling. If you merely overcome hate without understanding the ways of ignorance then that ignorance will produce other forms of antagonism, and so thought-feeling will be violent and ever in conflict. How then are you to free the mind from ignorance, from stupidity? Through constant awareness; by becoming aware that your thought-feeling is small, petty and narrow and not being ashamed of it, by understanding the causes that have made it little and self-enclosed. in understanding the deep and extensional causes, intelligence, disinterested generosity and kindliness come into being and hate yields to compassion. Through constant awareness the cause of ignorance, the process of the self, with its burden of the me and the mine, my achievement, my country, my possessions, my god, is being discovered, understood and dissolved. To understand there must be no judgment or comparison, no acceptance or denial, for all identification prevents that passive awareness in which alone the discovery of what is true is made. And it is this discovery that is creative and liberating. If the mind is aware negatively, passively, then being open it is able to discover the bondage, the limiting influence or idea, and so free itself from them. So no problem can be solved on its own level; it is to be solved on a different level of abstraction. Thinking is a process of expansion, of inclusive inquiry, not a concentrated denial or assertion. In trying to understand hate and its causes, in trying to free thought-feeling from hindrances, from delusions, mind becomes deeper and more extensive. In the greater the lesser ceases to be. Questioner: Is there anything after death or is it the end? Some say there is continuation, others annihilation. What do you say? Krishnamurti: In this question many things are involved; and as it is complex we will have to go into it, if you wish, deeply and openly. First of all, what do we mean by individuality? For we are not considering death abstractly but the death of an individual, of the particular. Will the individual self with name and form continue, or will he cease to exist? Will he take birth again? Before we can answer this question we must find what makes up individuality. A wrong question has no right answer; only a right question may have an answer. And all questions concerning the deep problems of life have no categorical answer for each one must discover what is true for himself. Truth alone gives freedom. Is not individuality, though it may have a different form and name, the result of a series of accumulated responses and memories from the past, from yesterday? Each one of us is the result of the past and the past contains the you and the many, the you and the other. You are the result of your father and mother, of all the fathers and mothers; you are the father, the maker of the past, the father of the future. Thus through identifying memory the self is created, the me and the mine; so the self becomes the time-binder. From this arises the question of whether the self continues or is annihilated after death. Only when the self, the becomer and the non-becomer, the creator of the past, the present and the future, the time-binder, is transcended, then only is there that which is deathless, timeless. In this there is also the question of cause and effect. Are cause and effect separate or is effect within the cause? They flow together, they exist together and they are a joint phenomenon, not to be separated. Though effect may take "time" to come into being, the seed of effect is in the cause, it coexists with the cause. It is no longer cause and effect but a much more subtle, delicate problem to be thought out, to be experienced. Cause-effect becomes the means of restricting, conditioning consciousness and these restrictions produce conflict and sorrow. These restrictions, subtle and inward, must be self-discovered and understood which will ultimately free thought from ignorance and pain. In this question of birth and death, of continuity and annihilation, is there not implied progress, gradualism? Do not some of us think that gradually, through repeated birth and death, through time, the self-becoming more and more perfect, will ultimately realize supreme bliss? Is the self a permanent entity, a spiritual essence? Is the self not made up, put together and so impermanent? Is not the self a result and so, in itself, not a spiritual essence? Has not the self a continuity through identifying memory, subject to time, and therefore impermanent and transitory? That which is in itself impermanent, put together, a result, how can it reach the causeless, the eternal? That which is the cause of ignorance and sorrow, how can it attain supreme bliss? That which is the product of time, how can it know the timeless? Realizing the impermanency of the self, there are those who say the permanent is to be found by throwing off the many layers of the self which requires time and so to reincarnate is necessary. The self, the result of craving, the cause of ignorance and sorrow, continues, as we observe; but to understand it and to transcend it we must not think in terms of time. Through time the timeless is not realized. Is not this approach to reality through gradualism, through slow evolutionary process, through birth and death, erroneous? Is it not the rationalization of conditioned thought, of postponement, of laziness and ignorance? This idea of gradualism exists, does it not, because we do not think-feel directly and simply? We choose a satisfactory explanation, a rationalization of our confused and lazy effort. Through conditioned thinking, through postponement can the real be discovered? The self, the cause of ignorance and sorrow, can it gradually through time become perfect? Or through time can the self dissolve itself? That which is in its very nature the cause of ignorance, can it become enlightened? Must it not cease to be before there can be light? Is its cessation a matter of time, a horizontal process, or is enlightenment only possible when thought-feeling abandons this horizontal process of time and so can think-feel vertically, directly? Along this horizontal path of time, of postponement, of ignorance, truth is not; it is to be found vertically at any point along the horizontal process if thought-feeling can step out of it, freeing itself from craving and time. This freedom is not dependent on time but on the intensity of awareness and the fullness of self-knowledge. Must thought go through the stages of the family, the group, the nation, the internation to come to the realization of human unity? Is it not possible to think-feel directly the human unity, without going through these stages? We are prevented, are we not, by our conditioning? If we rationalize our conditioning and so accept it then we shall never realize human unity so shall have ceaseless wars and terrible disasters. We rationalize our conditioning because it is easier to accept what is, to be lazy, to be thoughtless than vigorously to examine it, to discover what is true. We are afraid to examine for it might reveal hidden fears bring greater conflicts and suffering, force us to pursue actions that might bring uncertainty, insecurity, isolation and so on. So we accept our conditioning, inventing a theory of gradual growth towards ultimate human unity, and force all thought-feeling-action to conform to our gratifying theory. Similarly do we not gratifyingly accept this theory of gradualism, of evolutionary growth toward perfection? Do we not accept it because it soothes our anxious fear of death, of insecurity, of the unknown? In accepting it conditioning takes place and we become slaves to wrong ideas, to false hopes. We must break through these conditionings not in time, not in the future, but in the ever present. In the present is the Eternal. Only right thinking can free our thought-feeling from ignorance and sorrow; right thinking is not the result of time but of becoming intensely aware in the present of all conditioning which prevents clarity and understanding. The realization of that which is immortal, deathless, does not lie along the path of self-continuity, nor is it in its opposite. In the opposites there is conflict but not truth. Through self-awareness and in the clarity of self-knowledge there comes right thinking. The capacity to realize truth is with us. in cultivating right thinking which comes with self-knowledge, thought-feeling unfolds into the real, into the timeless. I shall be told that I have not answered the question, that I have evaded it, gone round about it. What would you have me say - that there is or that there is not? Is it not more important to know how to discover for yourself what is true than to be told what is? The one will be merely verbal and so of little significance while the other will bring true experience and so is of great importance. But if I assert merely that there is continuity or that there is not, such a statement will only strengthen belief and that is the very thing that stands in the way of the real. What is necessary is to go beyond our narrow beliefs and formulations, our cravings and hopes to experience that which is deathless and timeless. Questioner: Will not the scientists save the world? Krishnamurti: What do we mean by the scientists? Those who work in the laboratories and outside of them are human beings like us, with national and racial prejudices, greedy, ambitious, cruel. Will they save? Are they saving the world? Are they not using their technical knowledge to destroy more than to heal? In their laboratories they maybe seeking knowledge and understanding but are they not driven by the self, by competitive spirit, by passions like other human beings? One has to be on guard, alertly watchful of an organized group; the more you are organized, controlled, shaped the more you are incapable of thinking wholly, completely. You are thinking then in part which brings calamity and misery. One has to be watchful of the professionals; they have their vested interests, their narrow demands. One has to be on guard with the specialists along any line. Through the specialization of the part the whole is not understood. The more you rely on them and leave the deliverance of the world from misery and chaos to them the more confusion and catastrophes there will be. For who is to save you except your self? For the leader, the party, the system is created in your being and what you are, they are; if you are ignorant and violent, competitive and acquisitive, they will represent what you are. The scientists and the laymen are ourselves; we think in part, rejecting the whole; thoughtlessly we allow ourselves to be fashioned by lust, by ill will and ignorance. Through fear and dependence we allow ourselves to be regimented, oppressed. What can save us except our own capacity to free ourselves from those bondages which bring about conflict and misery? None can re-educate us save ourselves and this re-education is an arduous task. In ourselves is the whole, the beginning and the end. We find the book of self-knowledge difficult to read and being impatient and greedy for results we turn to the scientists, to the organized groups, to the professionals, to the leaders. So we are never saved, none can deliver us, for deliverance from ignorance and sorrow comes through our own understanding. To re-educate ourselves is a strenuous task demanding constant awareness and great pliability, not opinion and dogma but understanding. To understand the world each one must understand himself, for he is the world; out of self-knowledge comes right thinking. It is right thinking alone that will bring order, clarity and creative peace. To think-feel anew of the pain of existence each one must become aware so as to think out, feel out each thought-feeling and this is prevented if there is identification or judgment. Questioner: I am not particular interested in nationality nor in virtue. But I am greatly impressed by what you say about the uncrated. Will you please go into it a little more, though it is difficult. Krishnamurti: You cannot pick and choose; for nationality, virtue and the uncrated are interrelated. You may not accept what pleases and reject what is unpleasant; the pleasant and the unpleasant, ritualism and sorrow, virtue and evil are interrelated; to choose the one and reject the other is to be caught in the net of ignorance. To think about the uncrated without the mind truly freeing itself from craving is to indulge in superstition and speculation. To experience the uncrated, the immeasurable, mind must cease to create. It must cease to be acquisitive, must free itself from ill will, from copy. Mind must cease to be the storehouse of accumulated memories. That which we worship is our creation and so it is not the real. The thinker and his thought must come to an end for the uncrated to be. The uncreated can only be when the mind is capable of utter stillness. A mind that is riven, burning with craving, is never tranquil. There is no virtue if thought is not free from craving. When thought begins to free itself from craving there is right thinking. It is right thinking that will ultimately bring about clarity of perception. Surely there is a difference between that which is thinkable and that which is experienceable. Out of formulation, out of imagination, out of the known we experience, but few are capable of experiencing without symbols, without imagination, without formulations. Negative understanding frees the mind from copy, from the created. Our minds are filled with memories, with knowledge, with action and response to relationship and things. There is no inward rich stillness without pretension and desire and so there is no creative emptiness. A mind rich in activity, rich in possession, rich in memory is not aware of its own poverty. Such a mind is incapable of negative comprehension; such a mind is incapable of experiencing the uncrated. Supreme wisdom is denied to it. Questioner: Is not the practice of a regular discipline necessary? Krishnamurti: A dancer or a violinist practices many hours a day so as to keep his fingers supple, his muscles flexible. Now, do you keep your mind pliable, thoughtful, compassionate, by practicing any particular system of discipline? Or do you keep it alert, keen by constant awareness of thought-feeling? To think, to feel is not to belong to any system. We cease to think if we think in terms of systems and because we think within systems our thought needs strengthening. A system will only produce a specialized form of thought but it is not thinking, is it? Mere practice of a discipline to gain a result only strengthens thought to function in a groove and thereby limits it; but if we become aware and realize that we are thinking in terms of systems, formulas and patterns then thought-feeling, in freeing itself from them, is beginning to become pliable, alert and keen. If we can think every thought through, go with it as far as we can, then we shall be capable of understanding and experiencing widely and deeply. This expansive and deep awareness brings its own discipline, a discipline not imposed outwardly or inwardly according to any system or pattern but the outcome of self-knowledge and therefore of right thinking and understanding. Such discipline is creative without forming habit and encouraging laziness. If you become aware of every thought-feeling, however trivial, and think it out, feel it out as deeply and extensively as possible, thought then breaks down the limitations it has imposed upon itself. Thus there comes an understanding adjustment, a discipline far more effective and pliable than the imposed discipline of any pattern. Without awakening the highest intelligence through awareness practice of a discipline merely creates habit, thoughtlessness. Awareness itself through self-knowledge and right thought brings its own discipline. Habit, thoughtlessness as a means to an end makes of the end into ignorance. Right means create right ends for the end exists in the means. Questioner: How am I to still the mind in which it may be possible to realize something which will affect daily problems? How am I also to retain the still mind? Krishnamurti: Just as a lake is calm when the breezes stop so when the mind has understood and thus transcended the conflicting problems it has created, great stillness comes into being. This tranquillity is not to be induced by will, by desire; it is the outcome of the freedom from craving. Most of our so-called meditation consists in stilling the mind by various methods which only further strengthens self-enclosing, exclusive concentration; such narrowing concentration brings its own result but it is not extensional understanding, not the highest intelligence and wisdom which bring naturally, without compulsion, tranquillity. This understanding is to be awakened, cultivated through constant awareness of every thought-feeling-action, of every disturbance whether small or great. In understanding and so dissolving the conflicts and the disturbances which are in the conscious mind, in the external layer, and thus bringing clarity, it is able then to be passive and so understand the deeper, the interrelated layers of consciousness with their accumulations, impressions, memories. Thus through constant awareness the deep process of craving, the cause of self and so of conflict and pain, is observed and understood. Without self-knowledge and right thinking there is no meditation and without meditative awareness there is no self-knowledge. July 16, 1944 Foreword - Ojai 1945 - 1st Public Talk 2nd Public Talk 3rd Public Talk 4th Public Talk 5th Public Talk 6th Public Talk 7th Public Talk 8th Public Talk 9th Public Talk 10th Public Talk - Ojai 1946 - 1st Public Talk 2nd Public Talk 3rd Public Talk 4th Public Talk 5th Public Talk 6th Public Talk - Madras 1947 - 1st Public Talk 2nd Public Talk 3rd Public Talk 4th Public Talk 5th Public Talk 6th Public Talk 7th Public Talk 8th Public Talk 9th Public Talk 10th Public Talk 11th Public Talk 1st Group Discussion 2nd Group Discussion 3rd Group Discussion 4th Group Discussion 5th Group Discussion 6th Group Discussion 7th Group Discussion 8th Group Discussion 9th Group Discussion 10th Group Discussion 11th Group Discussion 12th Group Discussion 13th Group Discussion 14th Group Discussion 15th Group Discussion 16th Group Discussion 17th Group Discussion 18th Group Discussion 19th Group Discussion 20th Group Discussion 21st Group Discussion 22nd Group Discussion 23rd Group Discussion 24th Group Discussion 25th Group Discussion 26th Group Discussion 27th Group Discussion 28th Group Discussion 29th Group Discussion 30th Group Discussion 31st Group Discussion Note For Further Group Discussions 32nd Group Discussion 33rd Group Discussion 34th Group Discussion 35th Group Discussion 36th Group Discussion 37th Group Discussion 38th Group Discussion 39th Group Discussion 40th Group Discussion 41st Group Discussion 42nd Group Discussion 43rd Group Discussion 44th Group Discussion 45th Group Discussion 46th Group Discussion 47th Group Discussion 48th Group Discussion 49th Group Discussion 50th Group Discussion 51st Group Discussion Bombay 1948 - 1st Public Talk 2nd Public Talk 3rd Public Talk 4th Public Talk 5th Public Talk 6th Public Talk 7th Public Talk 8th Public Talk 9th Public Talk 10th Public Talk 11th Public Talk 12th Public Talk Madras 1948 - Foreword 1st Group Discussion 2nd Group Discussion 3rd Group Discussion 4th Group Discussion 5th Group Discussion 6th Group Discussion 7th Group Discussion 8th Group Discussion 9th Group Discussion OJAI FOREWORD 1945 This book of Talks, like our previous publications, contains reports of spontaneous discourses about life and reality, given at different times, and is not intended, therefore, to be read through consecutively or hurriedly as a novel or as a systematized philosophical treatise. These Talks were written down by me immediately after they were given and later I carefully revised them for publication. Unfortunately, a few individuals, unasked, circulated their own notes of some of these Talks but those reports should in no way be considered authentic or correct. To prevent misrepresentation and maintain the accuracy of these teachings we inform those who may be seriously interested that only the publications of Krishnamurti Writings, Inc., are reliable and authentic. J. Krishnamurti OJAI 1ST PUBLIC TALK 1945 To understand the confusion and misery that exist in ourselves, and so in the world, we must first find clarity within ourselves and this clarity comes about through right thinking. This clarity is not to be organized for it cannot be exchanged with another. Organized group thought becomes dangerous however good it may appear; organized group thought can be used, exploited; group thought ceases to be right thinking, it is merely repetitive. Clarity is essential for without it change and reform merely lead to further confusion. Clarity is not the result of verbal assertion but of intense self-awareness and right thinking. Right thinking is not the outcome of mere cultivation of the intellect, nor is it conformity to pattern, however worthy and noble. Right thinking comes with self-knowledge. Without understanding yourself, you have no basis for thought; without self-knowledge what you think is not true. You and the world are not two different entities with separate problems; you and the world are one. Your problem is the world's problem. You may be the result of certain tendencies, of environmental influences, but you are not different fundamentally from another. Inwardly we are very much alike; we are all driven by greed, ill will, fear, ambition and so on. Our beliefs, hopes, aspirations have a common basis. We are one; we are one humanity, though the artificial frontiers of economics and politics and prejudice divide us. If you kill another, you are destroying yourself. You are the centre of the whole and without understanding yourself you cannot understand Reality. We have an intellectual knowledge of this unity but we keep knowledge and feeling in different compartments and hence we never experience the extraordinary unity of man. When knowledge and feeling meet there is experience. These talks will be utterly useless if you do not experience as you are listening. Do not say, I will understand later, but experience now. Do not keep your knowledge and your feeling separate for out of this separation grow confusion and misery. You must experience this living unity of man. You are not separate from the Japanese, the Hindu, the Negro or the German. To experience this immense unity be open, become conscious of this division between knowledge and feeling; do not be a slave to compartmental philosophy. Without self-knowledge understanding is not possible. Self-knowledge is extremely arduous and difficult, for you are a complex entity. You must approach the understanding of the self simply, without any pretensions, without any theories. If I would understand you I must have no preconceived formulations about you, there must be no prejudice; I must be open, without judgment, without comparison. This is very difficult for, with most of us, thought is the result of comparison, of judgment. Through approximation we think we are understanding, but is understanding born of comparison, judgment? Or is it the outcome of non-comparative thought? If you would understand something do you compare it with something else or do you study it for itself? Thought born of comparison is not right thinking. Yet in studying ourselves we are comparing, approximating. It is this that prevents the understanding of ourselves. Why do we judge ourselves? Is not our judgment the outcome of our desire to become something, to gain, to conform, to protect ourselves? This very urge prevents understanding. As I said, you are a complex entity, and to understand it you must examine it. You cannot understand it if you are comparing it with the yesterday or with the tomorrow. You are an intricate mechanism but comparison, judgment, identification prevent comprehension. Do not be afraid that you will become sluggish, smug, self-contented if you do not compete in comparison. Once you have perceived the futility of comparison there is a great freedom. Then you are no longer striving to become but there is freedom to understand. Be aware of this comparative process of your thinking - experience all this as I am explaining - and feel its futility, its fundamental thoughtlessness; you will then experience a great freedom, as though you had laid down a wearisome burden. In this freedom from approximation and so from identification, you will be able to discover and understand the realities of yourself. If you do not compare, judge, then you will be confronted with yourself and this will give clarity and strength to uncover great depths. This is essential for the understanding of Reality. When there is no self-approximation then thought is liberated from duality; the problem and the conflict with the opposites fall away. In this freedom there is a revolutionary, creative understanding. There is not one of us who is not confronted with the problem of killing and non-killing, violence and non-violence. Some of you may feel that as your sons, brothers or husbands are not involved in this mass murder, called war, you are not immediately concerned with this problem, but if you will look a little more closely you will see how deeply you are involved. You cannot escape it. You must, as an individual, have a definite, attitude towards killing and non- killing. If you have not been aware of it you are being confronted with it now; you must face the issue, the dualistic problem of capitalism and communism, love and hate, killing and non-killing and so on. How are you to find the truth of the matter? Is there any release from conflict in the endless corridor of duality? Many believe that in the very struggle of the opposites there is creativeness, that this conflict is life, and to escape from it is to be in illusion. Is this so? Does not an opposite contain an element of its own opposite and so produce endless conflict and pain? Is conflict necessary for creation? Are the moments of creativeness the outcome of strife and pain? Does not the state of creative being come into existence when all pain and struggle have utterly ceased? You can experience this for yourself. This freedom from opposites is not an illusion; in it alone is the answer to all of our confusion and conflicting problems. You are faced with the problem of killing your brother in the name of religion, of peace, of country and so on. How shall you find the answer in which further conflicting, further opposing problems are not inherent? To find a true, lasting answer, must you not go outside of the dualistic pattern of thought. You kill because your property, your safety, your prestige are threatened; as with the individual so with the group, with the nation. To be free from violence and non-violence there must be freedom from acquisitiveness, ill will, lust and so on. But most of us do not go into the problem deeply and are satisfied with reform, with alteration within the pattern of duality. We accept as inevitable this conflict of duality and within that pattern try to bring about modification, change; within it we maneuver to a better position, to a more advantageous point for ourselves. Change or reform merely within the pattern of duality produces only further confusion and pain and hence is retrogression. You must go beyond the pattern of duality to solve permanently the problem of opposites. Within the pattern there is no truth, however much we may be caught in it; if we seek truth in it we will be led to many delusions. We must go beyond the dualistic pattern of the I and the not I, the possessor and the possessed. Beyond and above the endless corridor of duality lies Truth. Beyond and above the conflicting and painful problem of opposites lies creative understanding. This is to be experienced, not to be speculated upon; not to be formulated but to be realized through deep awareness of the dualistic hindrances. Questioner: I am sure most of us have seen authentic pictures in movies and in magazines of the horrors and the barbarities of the concentration camps. What should be done, in your opinion, with those who have perpetrated these monstrous atrocities? Should they not be punished? Krishnamurti: Who is to punish them? Is not the judge often as guilty as the accused? Each one of us has built up this civilization, each one has contributed towards its misery; each one is responsible for its actions. We are the outcome of each other's actions and reactions; this civilization is a collective result. No country or people is separate from another; we are all interrelated; we are one. Whether we acknowledge it or not, when a misfortune happens to a people, we share in it as in its good fortune. You may not separate yourself to condemn or to praise. The power to oppress is evil and every group that is large and well organized becomes a potential source of evil. By shouting loudly the cruelties of another country you think you can overlook those of your own. It is not only the vanquished but every country that is responsible for the horrors of war. War is one of the greatest catastrophes; the greatest evil is to kill another. Once you admit such an evil into your heart then you let loose countless minor disasters. You do not condemn war itself but him who is cruel in war. You are responsible for war; you have brought it about by your everyday action of greed, ill will, passion. Each one of us has built up this competitive, ruthless civilization, in which man is against man. You want to root out the causes of war, of barbarity in others, while you yourself indulge in them. This leads to hypocrisy and to further wars. You have to root out the causes of war, of violence, in yourself, which demands patience and gentleness, not bloody condemnation of others. Humanity does not need more suffering to make it understand but what is needed is that you should be aware of your own actions, that you should awaken to your own ignorance and sorrow and so bring about in yourself compassion and tolerance. You should not be concerned with punishments and rewards but with the eradication in yourself of those causes that manifest themselves in violence and in hate, in antagonism and ill will. In murdering the murderer you become like him; you become the criminal. A wrong is not righted through wrong means; only through right means can a right end be accomplished. If you would have peace you must employ peaceful means, and mass murder, war, can only lead to further murder, further suffering. There can be no love through bloodshed; an army is not an instrument of peace. Only good will and compassion can bring peace to the world, not might and cunning nor mere legislation. You are responsible for the misery and disaster that exist, you who in your daily life are cruel, oppressive, greedy, ambitious. Suffering will continue till you eradicate in yourself those causes that breed passion, greed and ruthlessness. Have peace and compassion in your heart and you will find the right answer to your questions. Questioner: At this time and in our present way of life our feelings become blunted and hard. Can you suggest a way of life that will make us more sensitive? Can we become so in spite of noise, haste, all the competitive professions and pursuits? Can we become so without dedication to a higher source of life? Krishnamurti: Is it not necessary for clear and right thinking to be sensitive? To feel deeply must not the heart be open? Must not the body be healthy to respond eagerly? We blunt our minds, our feelings, our bodies, with beliefs and ill will, with strong and hardening stimulants. It is essential to be sensitive, to respond keenly and rightly but we become blunted, hard, through our appetites. There is no separate entity such as the mind, apart from the organism as a whole, and when the organism as a whole is ill-treated, wasted, distracted, then insensitivity sets in. Our environment, our present way of life blunts us, wastes us. How can you be sensitive when every day you indulge in reading or seeing pictures of the slaughter of thousands - this mass murder reported as though it were a successful game. First time you read the reports you may feel sick at heart but the constant repetition of brutal ruthlessness dulls your mind-heart, immunizing you to the utter barbarism of modern society. The radios, magazines, cinemas are ever wasting your sensitive pliabilities; you are forced, threatened, regimented and how can you, in the midst of this noise, haste and false pursuits remain sensitive for the cultivation of right thinking? If you would not have your feelings blunted and hard, you must pay the price for it; you must abandon haste, distraction, wrong professions and pursuits. You must become aware of your appetites, your limiting environment, and by rightly understanding them you begin to reawaken your sensitivity. Through constant awareness of your thoughts-feelings, the causes of self-enclosure and narrowness fall away. If you would be highly sensitive and clear, you must deliberately work for it; you cannot be worldly and yet be pure in the pursuit of Reality. Our difficulty is we want both, the burning appetites and the serenity of Reality. You must abandon the one or the other; you cannot have both. You cannot indulge and yet be alert; to be keenly aware there must be freedom from those influences that are crystallizing, blunting. We have over developed the intellect at the cost of our deeper and clearer feelings and a civilization that is based on the cultivation of the intellect must bring about ruthlessness and the worship of success. The emphasis on intellect or on emotion leads to unbalance, and intellect is ever seeking to safeguard itself. Mere determination only strengthens the intellect and blunts and hardens it; it is ever self-aggressive in becoming or not-becoming. The ways of the intellect must be understood through constant awareness and its re-education must transcend its own reasoning. Questioner: I find there is conflict between my occupation and my relationship. They go in different directions. How can I make them meet? Krishnamurti: Most of our occupations are dictated by tradition, or by greed, or by ambition. In our occupation we are ruthless, competitive, deceitful, cunning and highly self-protective. If we weaken at any time we may go under, so we must keep up with the high efficiency of the greedy machine of business. It is a constant struggle to maintain a hold, to become sharper and cleverer. Ambition can never find lasting satisfaction; it is ever seeking wider fields for self-assertiveness. But in relationship quite a different process is involved. In it there must be affection, consideration, adjustment, self-denial, yielding; not to conquer but to live happily. In it there must be self-effacing tenderness, freedom from domination, from possessiveness; but emptiness and fear breed jealousy and pain in relationship. Relationship is a process of self-discovery, in which there is wider and deeper understanding; relationship is a constant adjustment in self-discovery. It demands patience, infinite pliability and a simple heart. But how can the two meet together, self-assertiveness and love, occupation and relationship? The one is ruthless, competitive, ambitious, the other is self-denying, considerate, gentle; they cannot come together. With one hand people deal in blood and money, and with the other they try to be kind, affectionate, thoughtful. As a relief from their thoughtless and dull occupations they seek comfort and ease in relationship. But relationship does not yield comfort for it is a distinctive process of self-discovery and understanding. The man of occupation tries to seek through his life of relationship comfort and pleasure as a compensation for his wearisome business. His daily occupation of ambition, greed and ruthlessness lead step by step to war and to the barbarities of modern civilization. Right occupation is not dictated by tradition, greed or ambition. If each one is seriously concerned in establishing right relationship, not only with one but with all, then he will find right occupation. Right occupation comes with regeneration, with the change of heart, not with the mere intellectual determination to find it. Integration is only possible if there is clarity of understanding on all the different levels of our consciousness. There can be no integration of love and ambition, deception and clarity, compassion and war. So long as occupation and relationship are kept apart, so long will there be endless conflict and misery. All reformation within the pattern of duality is retrogression; only beyond it, is there creative peace. OJAI 2ND PUBLIC TALK 1945 We are confronted every day, are we not, with dualistic problems, problems which are not theoretical or philosophical but actual? Verbally, emotionally, intellectually, we face them every day; good and bad, mine and yours, collectivism and individualism, becoming and non-becoming, worldliness and non-worldliness, and so on; an endless corridor of opposites in which thought-feeling shuffles back and forth. Are these problems of greed and non-greed, war and peace to be solved within the dualistic pattern or must thought-feeling go above and beyond to find a permanent answer? Within the pattern of duality there is no lasting answer. Each opposite has an element of its own opposite and so there can never be a permanent answer within the conflict of the opposites. There is a permanent, unique answer only outside of the pattern. It is important to understand this problem of duality as deeply as possible. I am not dealing with it as an abstract, theoretical subject, but as an actual problem of our everyday life and conduct. We are aware, are we not, that our thought is a constant struggle within the pattern of duality, of good and bad, of being and not-being, of yours and mine? In it there is conflict and pain; in it all relationship is a process of sorrow; in it there is no hope but travail. Now, is the problem of love and hate to be solved within the field of its own conflict or must thought-feeling go above and beyond its known pattern? To find the lasting solution to the conflict of duality and to the pain involved in choice, we must be intensely aware, in silent observation of the full implication of conflict. Only then will we discover that there is a state in which the conflict of duality has ceased. There can be no integration of the opposites, greed and non-greed. He who is greedy, when he attempts to become non-greedy, is still greedy. Must he not abandon both greed and non-greed to be above and beyond the influence of both? Any becoming involves non-becoming and as long as there is becoming there must be duality with its endless conflict. The cause of duality is desire, craving; through perception and sensation and contact there arise desire, pleasure, pain, want, non-want which in turn cause identification as mine and yours, and thus the dualistic process is set going. Is not this conflict worldliness? As long as the thinker separates himself from this thought, so long the vain conflict of the opposites will continue. As long as the thinker is concerned only with the modification of his thoughts and not with the fundamental transformation of himself, so long conflict and sorrow will continue. Is the thinker separate from his thought? Are not the thinker and his thought an inseparable phenomenon? Why do we separate the thought from the thinker? Is it not one of the cunning tricks of the mind so that the thinker can change his garb according to circumstances, yet remain the same? Outwardly there is the appearance of change but inwardly the thinker continues to be as he is. The craving for continuity, for permanency, creates this division between the thinker and his thoughts. When the thinker and his thought become inseparable then only is duality transcended. Only then is there the true religious experience. Only when the thinker ceases is there Reality. This inseparable unity of the thinker and his thought is to be experienced but not to be speculated upon. This experience is liberation; in it there is inexpressible joy. Right thinking alone can bring about the understanding and the transcending of cause-effect and the dualistic process; when the thinker and his thought are integrated through right meditation, then there is the ecstasy of the Real. Questioner: These monstrous wars cry for a durable peace. Every one is speaking already of a Third World War. Do you see a possibility of averting the new catastrophe? Krishnamurti: How can we expect to avert it when the elements and values that cause war continue? Has the war that is just over produced a deep fundamental change in man? Imperialism and oppression are still rampant, perhaps cleverly veiled; separate sovereign states continue; nations are maneuvering themselves into new positions of power; the powerful still oppress the weak; the ruling elite still exploit the ruled; social and class conflicts have not ceased; prejudice and hatred are burning everywhere. As long as professional priests with their organized prejudices justify intolerance and the liquidation of another being for the good of your country and the protection of your interests and ideologies, there will be war. As long as sensory values predominate over eternal value there will be war. What you are the world is. If you are nationalistic, patriotic, aggressive, ambitious, greedy, then you are the cause of conflict and war. If you belong to any particular ideology, to a specialized prejudice, even if you call it religion, then you will be the cause of strife and misery. If you are enmeshed in sensory values then there will be ignorance and confusion. For what you are the world is; your problem is the world's problem. Have you fundamentally changed because of this present catastrophe? Do you not still call yourself an American, an Englishman, an Indian, a German and so on? Are you not still greedy for position and power, for possessions and riches? Worship becomes hypocrisy when you are cultivating the causes of war; your prayers lead you to illusion if you allow yourself to indulge in hate and in worldliness. If you do not eradicate in yourself the causes of enmity, of ambition, of greed, then your gods are false gods who will lead you to misery. Only goodwill and compassion can bring order and peace to the world and not political blueprints and conferences. You must pay the price for peace. You must pay it voluntarily and happily and the price is the freedom from lust and ill will, worldliness and ignorance, prejudice and hate. If there were such a fundamental change in you, you could help to bring about a peaceful and sane world. To have peace you must be compassionate and thoughtful. You may not be able to avert the Third World War but you can free your heart and mind from violence and from those causes that bring about enmity and prevent love. Then in this dark world there will be some who are pure of heart and mind, and from them perhaps the seed of a true culture might come into being. Make pure your heart and mind for by your life and action only can there be peace and order. Do not be lost and confused in organizations but remain wholly alone and simple. Do not seek merely to prevent catastrophe but rather let each one deeply eradicate those causes that breed antagonism and strife. Questioner: I have written down, as you suggested last year, my thoughts and feelings for several months, but I don't seem to get much further with it. Why? What more am I to do? Krishnamurti: I suggested last year, as a means to self-knowledge and right thinking, that one should write down every thought-feeling, the pleasant as well as the unpleasant. Thus one becomes aware of the whole content of consciousness, the private thoughts and secret motives, intentions and bondages. Thus through constant self-awareness there comes self-knowledge which brings about right thinking. For without self-knowledge there can be no understanding. The source of understanding is within oneself and there is no comprehension of the world and your relationship to it without deep self-knowledge. The questioner wants to know why he is not able to penetrate within himself deeply and discover the hidden treasure that lies beyond the superficial attempts at self-knowledge. To dig deeply you must have the right instrument, not merely the desire to dig. To cultivate self-knowledge there must be capacity and not a vague wish for it. Being and wishing are two different things. To cultivate the right instrument of perception thought must cease to condemn, to deny, to compare and judge or to seek comfort and security. If you condemn or are gratified with what you have written down then you will put an end to the flow of thought- feeling and to understanding. If you wish to understand what another is saying surely you must listen without any bias, without being distracted by irrelevancies. Similarly, if you wish to understand your own thoughts-feelings, you must observe them with kindly dispassion and not with an attitude of condemnation or approval. Identification prevents and perverts the flow of thought-feeling; tolerant disinterestedness is essential for self-knowledge; self-knowledge opens the door to deep and wide understanding. But it is difficult to be calm with regard to oneself, to one's reactions and so on, for we have set up a habit of self-condemnation, of self-justification and it is of this habit that one must be aware. Through constant and alert awareness, not through denial, does thought free itself from habit. This freedom is not of time but of understanding. Understanding is ever in the immediate present. To cultivate the right instrument of perception there must be no comparison for when you compare you cease to understand. If you compare, approximate, you are being merely competitive, ambitious and your end then is success in which inherently is failure. Comparison implies a pattern of authority according to which you are measuring and guiding yourself. The oppression of authority cripples understanding. Comparison may produce a desired result but it is an impediment to self-knowledge. Comparison implies time and times does not yield understanding. You are a complex living organism; understand yourself not through comparison but through perception of what is, for the present is the doorway to the past and to the future. When thought is free of comparison and identification and their uncreative burden, it is then able to be calm and clear. This habit of comparison, as also the habit of condemnation and approval, leads to conformity and in conformity there is no understanding. The self is not a static entity but very active, alertly capable in its demands and pursuits; to follow and to understand the endless movement of the self a keen, pliable mind-heart is necessary, a mind capable of intense self-awareness. To understand, mind must delve deeply and yet it must know when to be alertly passive. It would be foolish and unbalanced to keep on digging without the recuperative and healing power of passivity. We search, analyze, look into ourselves, but it is a process of conflict and pain; there is no joy in it for we are judging or justifying or comparing. There are no moments of silent awareness, of choiceness passivity. It is this choiceless awareness, this creative passivity that is even more essential than self-observation and investigation. As the fields are cultivated, sown, harvested and allowed to lie fallow so must we live the four seasons in a day. If you cultivate, sow and harvest without giving rest to the soil it would soon become unproductive. The period of fallowness is as essential as tilling; when the earth lies fallow the winds, the rains, the sunshine bring to it creative productivity and it renews itself. So must the mind-heart be silent, alertly passive after travail, to renew itself. Thus through self-awareness of every thought-feeling the ways of the self are known and understood. This self-awareness with its self-observation and alert passivity brings deep and wide self-knowledge. From self-knowledge there comes right thinking; with out right thinking there is no meditation. Questioner: The problem of earning a decent living is predominant with most of us. Since economic currents of the world are hopelessly interdependent I find that almost anything I do either exploits others or contributes to the cause of war. How is one who honestly wishes to achieve right means of livelihood to withdraw from the wheels of exploitation and war? Krishnamurti: For him who truly wishes to find a right means of livelihood economic life, as at present organized, is certainly difficult. As the questioner says, economic currents are interrelated and so it is a complex problem, and as with all complex human problems it must be approached with simplicity. As society is becoming more and more complex and organized, regimentation of thought and action is being enforced for the sake of efficiency. Efficiency becomes ruthlessness when sensory values predominate, when eternal value is set aside. Obviously there are wrong means of livelihood. He who helps in manufacturing arms and other methods to kill his fellowman is surely occupied with furthering violence which never brings about peace in the world; the politician who, either for the benefit of his nation or of himself or of an ideology, is occupied in ruling and exploiting others, is surely employing wrong means of livelihood which lead to war, to the misery and sorrow of man; the priest who holds to a specialized prejudice, dogma or belief, to a particular form of worship and prayer is also using wrong means of livelihood, for he is only spreading ignorance and intolerance which set man against man. Any profession that leads to and maintains the divisions and conflict between man and man is obviously a wrong means of livelihood. Such occupations lead to exploitation and strife. Our means of livelihood are dictated, are they not, through tradition or through greed and ambition? Generally we do not deliberately set about choosing the right means of livelihood. We are only too thankful to get what we can and blindly follow the economic system that is about us. But the questioner wants to know how to withdraw from exploitation and war. To withdraw from them he must not allow himself to be influenced, nor follow traditional occupation, nor must he be envious and ambitious. Many of us choose some profession because of tradition or because we are of a family of lawyers or soldiers or politicians or traders; or our greed for power and position dictates our occupation; ambition drives us to compete and be ruthless in our desire to succeed. So he who would not exploit or contribute to the cause of war must cease to follow tradition, cease to be greedy, ambitious, self-seeking. If he abstains from these he will naturally find right occupation. But though it is important and beneficial, right occupation is not an end in itself. You may have a right means of livelihood but if you are inwardly insufficient and poor you will be a source of misery to yourself and so to others; you will be thoughtless, violent, self-assertive. Without that inward freedom of Reality you will have no joy, no peace. In the search and discovery of that inward Reality alone can we be not only content with little, but aware of something that is beyond all measure. It is this which must be first sought out; then other things will come into being in its wake. This inward freedom of creative Reality is not a gift; it is to be discovered and experienced. It is not an acquisition to be gathered to yourself to glorify yourself. It is a state of being, as silence, in which there is no becoming, in which there is completeness. This creativeness may not necessarily seek expression; it is not a talent that demands an outward manifestation. You need not be a great artist nor have an audience; if you seek these you will miss that inward Reality. It is neither a gift, nor is it the outcome of talent; it is to be found, this imperishable treasure, when thought frees itself from lust, ill will and ignorance; when thought frees itself from worldliness and personal craving to be; it is to be experienced through right thinking and meditation. Without this inward freedom of Reality existence is pain. As a thirsty man seeks water, so must we seek. Reality alone can quench the thirst of impermanency. Questioner: I am an inveterate smoker. I have tried several times to give it up but failed each time. How am I to give it up once and for all? Krishnamurti: Do not strive to give it up; as with so many habits mere struggle against them only strengthens them. Understand the whole problem of habit, the mental, emotional and physical. Habit is thoughtlessness and to struggle against thoughtlessness by determined ignorance is vain, stupid. You must understand the process of habit through constant awareness of the grooves of the mind and of the habitual emotional responses. In understanding the deeper issues of habit the superficial ones fall away. Without understanding the deeper causes of habit, suppose you are able to master the habit of smoking or any other habit, you still will be as you are, thoughtless, empty, a plaything of environment. How to give up a particular habit is surely not the primary question for much deeper things are involved. No problem can be solved on its own level. Is any problem solved within the pattern of opposites? Obviously there is conflict within the pattern but does this conflict resolve the problem? Must you not go outside the pattern of conflict to find a lasting answer? The struggle against a habit does not necessarily result in its abandonment; other habits may be developed or substituted. The struggle merely to overcome habits, without uncovering their deeper significance, makes the mind-heart thoughtless, superficial, insensitive. As with anger, as with armies, conflict exhausts, and no major issue is solved. Similarly conflict between opposites only blunts the Mind-heart and it is this dullness that prevents the understanding of the problem. Please see the importance of this. Conflict between two opposing desires must end in weariness, in thoughtlessness. It is this thoughtlessness that must be considered, not the mere giving up of a habit or conflict. The abandonment of a habit will naturally follow if there is thoughtfulness, if there is sensitivity. This sensitivity is blunted, hardened, by the constant struggle of opposing desires. So if you want to smoke, smoke; but be intensely aware of all the implications of habit: thoughtlessness, dependency, loneliness, fear and so on. Do not merely struggle against habit but be aware of its full significance. It is considered intelligent to be in the conflict of the opposites; the struggle between good and evil, between collectivism and individualism, is thought to be necessary for the growth of man; the conflict between God and Devil is accepted as an inevitable process. Does this conflict between the opposites lead to Reality? Does it not lead to ignorance and illusion? Is evil to be transcended by its opposite? Must not thought go above and beyond the conflict of both? This conflict of the opposites does not lead to righteousness, to understanding; it leads to weariness, thoughtlessness, insensitivity. Perhaps the criminal, the sinner may be nearer comprehension than the man who is self-righteous in his smug struggle of opposing desires. The criminal could be aware of his crime so there is hope for him, whereas the man in self- righteous conflict of the opposites is merely lost in his own petty ambition to become. The one is vulnerable while the other is enclosed, hardened by his conflict; the one is still susceptible while the other is made insensitive through the conflict and pain of constant struggle to become. Do not lose yourself in the conflict and pain of the opposites. Do not compare and strive to become the opposite of that which you are. Be wholly, choicelessly aware of what is, of your habit, of your fear, of your tendency and in this single flame of awareness that which is, is transformed. This transformation is not within the pattern of duality; it is fundamental, creative, with the breath of reality. In this flame of awareness all problems are finally resolved. Without this transformation life is a struggle and pain and there is no joy, no peace. OJAI 3RD PUBLIC TALK 1945 Is it not important to understand and so transcend conflict? Most of us live in a state of inner conflict which produces outer turmoil and confusion; many escape from conflict into illusion, into various activities, into knowledge and ideation, or become cynical and depressed. There are some who, understanding conflict, go beyond its limitations. Without understanding the inward nature of conflict, the warring field which we are, there can be no peace, no joy. Most of us are caught up in an endless series of inward conflicts and without resolving them life is utterly wasteful and empty. We are aware of two opposing poles of desire, the wanting and the not-wanting. The conflict between comprehension and ignorance we accept as part of our nature; we do not see that it is impossible to resolve this conflict within the pattern of duality and so we accept it, making a virtue of conflict. We have come to regard it as essential for growth, for the perfecting of man. Do we not say that through conflict we shall learn, we shall understand? We give a religious significance to this conflict of opposites but does it lead to virtue, to clarification, or does it lead to ignorance, to insensitivity, to death? Have you never noticed that in the midst of conflict there is no understanding at all, only a blind struggle? Conflict is not productive of understanding. Conflict leads, as we have said, to apathy, to delusion. We must go outside the pattern of duality for creative, revolutionary understanding. Does not conflict, the struggle to become and not to become, make for a self-enclosing process? Does it not create self-consciousness? Is not the very nature of the self one of conflict and pain? When are you conscious of yourself? When there is opposition, when there is friction, when there is antagonism. In the moment of joy, self-consciousness is non-existent; when there is happiness you do not say I am happy; only when it is absent, when there is conflict, do you become self-conscious. Conflict is a recall to oneself, an awareness of one's own limitation; it is this which causes self-consciousness. This constant struggle leads to many forms of escape, to illusion; without understanding the nature of conflict, the acceptance of authority, belief or ideology only leads to ignorance and further sorrow. With the understanding of conflict these become impotent and worthless. Choice between opposing desires merely continues conflict; choice implies duality; through choice there is no freedom, for will is still productive of conflict. Then how is it possible for thought to go beyond and above the pattern of duality? Only when we understand the ways of craving and of self-gratification is it possible to transcend the endless conflict of opposites. We are ever seeking pleasure and avoiding sorrow; the constant desire to become hardens the mind-heart, causing strife and pain. Have you not noticed how ruthless a man is in his desire to become? To become something in this world is relatively the same as becoming something in what is considered the spiritual world; in each, man is driven by the desire to become and this craving leads to incessant conflict, to peculiar ruthlessness and antagonism. Then to renounce is to acquire and acquisition is the seed of conflict. This process of renouncing and acquiring, of becoming and not becoming is an endless chain of sorrow. How to go beyond and above this conflict is our problem. This is not a theoretical question but one that confronts us almost all of the time. We can escape into some fancy which can be rationalized and made to seem real but nevertheless it is delusion; it is not made real by cunning explanations nor by the number of its adherents. To transcend conflict the craving to become must be experienced and understood. The desire to become is complex and subtle but as with all complex things it must be approached simply. Be intensely aware of the desire to become. Be aware of the feeling of becoming; with feeling there comes sensitivity which begins to reveal the many implications of becoming. Feeling is hardened by the intellect and by its many cunning rationalizations, and however much the intellect may unravel the complexity of becoming it is incapable of experiencing. You may verbally grasp all this but it will be of little consequence; only experience and feeling can bring the creative flame of understanding. Do not condemn becoming but be aware of its cause and effect in yourself. Condemnation, judgment and comparison do not bring the experience of understanding; on the contrary they will stop experience. Be aware of identification and condemnation, justification and comparison; be aware of them and they will come to an end. Be silently aware of becoming; experience this silent awareness. Being still and becoming still are two different states. The becoming still can never experience the state of being still. It is only in being still that all conflict is transcended. Questioner: Will you please talk about death? I do not mean the fear of death but rather the promise and hope which the thought of death must always hold for those who are aware throughout life that they do not belong. Krishnamurti: Why are we concerned more with death than with living? Why do we look to death as a release, as a promise of hope? Why should there be more happiness, more joy in death, than in life? Why need we look to death as a renewal, rather than to life? We want to escape from the pain of existence into a promise and hope that the unknown holds. Living is conflict and misery and as we educate ourselves to inevitable death, we look to death for reward. Death is glorified or shunned depending on the travail of life; life is a thing to be endured and death to be welcomed. Again we are caught in the conflict of the opposites. There is no truth in the opposites. We do not understand life, the present, so we look to the future, to death. Will tomorrow, the future, death, bring understanding? Will time open the door to Reality? We are ever concerned with time, the past weaving itself into the present and into the future, we are the product of time, the past; we escape into the future, into death. The present is the Eternal. Through time the Timeless is not experienced. The now is ever existent; even if you escape into the future, the now is ever present. The present is the doorway to the past. If you do not understand the present now, will you understand it in the future? What you are now you will be, if the present is not understood. Understanding comes only through the present; postponement does not yield comprehension. Time is transcended only in the stillness of the present. This tranquillity is not to be gained through time, through becoming tranquil; there must be stillness, not the becoming still. We look to time as a means to become; this becoming is endless, it is not the Eternal, the Timeless. The becoming is endless conflict, leading to illusion. In the stillness of the present is the Eternal. But thought-feeling is weaving back and forth, like a shuttle, between the past, the present and the future; it is ever rearranging its memories; ever maneuvering itself into a better position, more advantageous and comforting to itself. It is forever dissipating and formulating and how can such a mind be still, creatively empty? It is continually causing its own becoming by endless effort, and how can such a mind understand the still being of the present? Right thinking and meditation only can bring about the clarity of understanding and in this alone is there tranquillity. The death of someone whom you love brings sorrow. The shock of that sorrow is benumbing, paralysing, and as you come out of it you seek an escape from that sorrow. The lack of companionship, the habits that are revealed, the void and the loneliness that are uncovered through death cause pain, and you instinctively want to run away from it. You want comfort, a palliative to ease the suffering. Suffering is an indication of ignorance, but in seeking an escape from suffering you are only nourishing ignorance. Instead of blunting the mind-heart in sorrow through escapes, comforts, rationalizations, beliefs, be intensely aware of its cunning defence and comforting demands and then there will be the transformation of that emptiness and sorrow. Because you seek to escape sorrow pursues, because you seek comfort and dependence, loneliness is intensified. Not to escape, not to seek comfort, is extremely difficult and only intense self-awareness can eradicate the cause of sorrow. In death we seek immortality; in the movement of birth and death we long for permanency; caught in the flux of time we crave for the Timeless; being in shadow we believe in light. Death does not lead to immortality; there is immortality only in life without death. In life we know death for we cling to life. We gather, we become; because we gather death comes, and knowing death we cling to life. The hope and belief in immortality is not the experiencing of immortality. Belief and hope must cease for the immortal to be. You the believer, the maker of desire, must cease for the immortal to be. Your very belief and hope strengthen the self and you will know only birth and death. With the cessation of craving, the cause of conflict, there comes creative stillness and in this silence there is that which is birth-less and deathless. Then life and death are one. Questioner: It is easier to be free from sexual cravings than from subtle ambitions; for individuality wants self-expression with every breath. To be free from one's egotism means complete revolution in thinking. how can one remain in the world with such a reversal of mind? Krishnamurti: Why do we want to remain in the world, the world that is so ruthless, ignorant and lustful? We may have to live in it but existence becomes painful only when we are of it. When we are ambitious, when there is enmity, when sensory values become all important, then we are lost and then the world holds us. Can we not live without greed among the greedy, content with little? Among the unhealthy can we not live in health? The world is not apart from us, we are the world; we have made it what it is. It has acquired its worldliness because of us and to leave it we must put away from us worldliness. Then only can we live with the world and not be of it. Freedom from sex and ambition has no meaning without love. Chastity is not the product of the intellect; if the mind plans and plots to be chaste, it is no longer chaste. Love alone is chaste. Without love, the mere freedom from lust is barren and so the cause of endless strife and sorrow. Once again the desire to be free from ambition is a conflict within the pattern of duality. If in this pattern you have trained yourself not to be ambitious you are still in the opposites, and so there is no freedom. You have only substituted one label for another and so conflict continues. Cannot we experience directly that state beyond the pattern of duality? Do not let us think in terms of becoming which indicate, do they not, the conflict of opposites? I am this and I want to become that only strengthens conflict and so blunts the mind-heart. We are accustomed to think in terms of the future, to be or to become. Is it not possible to be aware of what is? When we think-feel what is, without comparison, without judgment, with that complete integration of the thinker with his thought, then that which is, is utterly transformed; but this transformation can never take place within the field of duality. So let us be aware, not become aware, of ambition. When we are so aware we are conscious of all its implications; this feeling is important, not the mere intellectual analysis of the cause and effect of ambition. When you are aware of ambition you are conscious of its assertiveness, of its competitive ruthlessness, of its pleasures and pain; you are also conscious of its effect on society and relationship; of its social and business moralities which are immoral; of its cunning and hidden ways which ultimately lead to strife. Ambition breeds envy and ill will, the power to dominate and to oppress. Be aware of yourself as you are and of the world which you have created, and without condemnation or justification be silently aware of your feeling ambitious. If you are silently aware, as we explained, then the thinker and his thought are one, they are not separate but indivisible; then only is there complete transformation of ambition. But most of us, if we are aware at all, are conscious of the cause and effect of ambition and unfortunately we stop there; but if we looked more closely into this process of choice we would abandon it, for conflict is not productive of understanding. In abandoning it we would come upon the thinker and his thought. just as the qualities cannot be separated from the self, so the thinker cannot be separated from his thought. When such integration takes place there is complete transformation of the thinker. This is an arduous task demanding alert pliability and choiceless awareness. Meditation comes from right thinking and right thinking from self-knowledge. Without self-knowledge there is no understanding. Questioner: I understand you to say that creativeness is an intoxication from which it is hard to free oneself. Yet you often speak of the creative person. Who is he if he is not the artist, the poet, the builder? Krishnamurti: Is the artist, the poet, the builder necessarily the creative person? Is he not also lustful, worldly, seeking personal success? So is he not contributing to the chaos and misery in the world? Is he not responsible for its catastrophes and sorrows? He is responsible when he is seeking fame, is envious, when he is worldly, when his values are sensate; when he is passionate. Because he has a certain talent does that make the artist a creative person? Creativeness is something infinitely greater than the mere capacity to express; mere successful expression and its recognition surely does not constitute creativeness. Success in this world implies, does it not, being of this world, the world of oppression and cruelty, ignorance and ill will? Ambition does produce results, but does it not bring with it misery and confusion for him who is successful and for his fellowman? The scientist, the builder, may have brought certain benefits but have they not brought also destruction and untold misery? Is this creativeness? Is it creativeness to set man against man as the politicians, the rulers, the priests are doing? Creativeness comes into being when there is freedom from the bondage of craving with its conflict and sorrow. With the abandonment of the self with its assertiveness and ruthlessness and its endless struggles to become, there comes creative reality. In the beauty of a sunset or a still night, have you not felt intense, creative joy? At that moment, the self being temporarily absent, you are vulnerable, open to reality. This is a rare and unsought event, out of your control, but having once felt its intensity the self demands further enjoyment of it, and so conflict begins. We all have experienced the temporary absence of the self and have felt at that moment the extraordinary creative ecstasy, but instead of its being rare and accidental is it not possible to bring about the right state in which Reality is eternal being? If you seek that ecstasy then it will be the activity of the self, which will produce certain results, but it will not be that state which comes through right thinking and right meditation. The subtle ways of the self must be known and understood for with self-knowledge comes right thinking and meditation. Right thinking comes with the constant flow of self-awareness, awareness of worldly actions as well as of the activities in meditation. Creativeness with its ecstasy comes with the freedom from craving, which is virtue. Questioner: During the last few years you seem to have concentrated in your talks, more and more, on the development of right thinking. Formerly you used to speak more about mystic experiences. Are you deliberately avoiding this aspect now? Krishnamurti: Is it not necessary to lay right foundation for right experience? Without right thinking is not experience illusory? If you would have a well built and lasting house, must you not lay it on a firm and right foundation? To experience is comparatively easy and depending on our conditioning, we experience. We experience according to our beliefs and ideals but do all such experiences bring freedom? Have you not noticed that according to one's tradition and belief experience comes? Tradition and creed mould experience, but to experience Reality which is not of any tradition or ideology, must not thought go above and beyond its own conditioning? Is not Reality ever the un-created? And must not the mind cease to create, to formulate, if it would experience the Uncreated? Must not the mind-heart be utterly still and silent for the being of the Real? As any experience can be misinterpreted so any experience can be made to appear as the Real. On the interpreter depends the translation and if the translator is biased, ignorant, moulded in a pattern of thought, then his understanding will conform to his conditioning. If he is so-called religious, his experiences will be according to his tradition and belief; if he is non-religious then his experiences will shape themselves according to his background. On the instrument depends its capacity; the mind-heart must make itself capable. It is capable of either experiencing the Real or creating for itself illusion. To experience the Real is arduous for it demands infinite pliability and deep, basic stillness. This pliability, this stillness is not the result of desire or of an act of will, for desire and will are the outcome of craving, the dual drive to be and not to be. Pliability and tranquillity are not the outcome of conflict; they come into being with understanding and understanding comes with self-knowledge. Without self-knowledge you merely live in a state of contradiction and uncertainty; without self-knowledge what you think-feel has no basis; without self-knowledge enlightenment is not possible. You are the world, the neighbour, the friend, the so-called enemy. If you would understand you must first understand yourself, for in you is the root of all understanding. In you is the beginning and the end. To understand this vast complex entity mind-heart must be simple. To understand the past, mind-heart must be aware of its activities in the present for through the present alone the past may be understood, but you will not understand the present if there is self-identification. So through the present the past is revealed; through the immediate consciousness the many hidden layers are discovered and understood. Thus through constant awareness there comes deep and wide self-knowledge. OJAI 4TH PUBLIC TALK 1945 Can each one who is responsible for the conflict and misery in himself and so in the world allow his mind-heart to be dulled by erroneous philosophies and ideas? If you who have created this struggle and suffering do not change fundamentally, will systems, conferences, blue prints bring about order and good will? Is it not imperative that you transform yourself, for, what you are the world is? Your inward conflicts express themselves in outward disasters. Your problem is the world's problem and you alone can solve it, not another; you cannot leave it to others. The politician, the economist, the reformer, is like yourself an opportunist, a cunning deviser of plans; but our problem, this human conflict and misery, this empty existence which produces such agonizing disasters, needs more than cunning device, more than superficial reforms of the politician and the propagandist. It needs a radical change of the human mind and no one can bring about this transformation save yourself. For what you are your group, your society, your leader is. Without you the world is not; in you is the beginning and end of all things. No group, no leader can establish eternal value save yourself. Catastrophes and misery come when temporary sensate values dominate over eternal value. The permanent, eternal value is not the result of belief; your belief in God does not mean that you are experiencing eternal value, the way of your life alone will show its reality. Oppression and exploitation, aggressiveness and economic ruthlessness inevitably follow when we have lost Reality. You have lost it when professing the love of God you condone and justify the murdering of your fellowman, when you justify mass murder in the name of peace and freedom. As long as you give supreme importance to sensory values there will be conflict, confusion and sorrow. Killing another can never be justified and we lose man's immense significance when sensate values remain predominant. We will have misery and tribulation so long as religion is organized to be part of the State, the hand maiden of the State. It helps to condone organized force as policy of the State; and so encourages oppression, ignorance and intolerance. How then can religion allied with the State fulfil its only true function, that of revealing and maintaining eternal value? When Reality is lost and not sought after there is disunity and man will be against man. Confusion and misery cannot be banished by the forgetful process of time, by the comforting idea of evolution which only engenders slothfulness, smug acceptance and the continuous drift towards catastrophe; we must not let the course of our lives be directed by others,for others, or for the sake of the future. We are responsible for our life, not another; we are responsible for our conduct, not another; not another can transform us. Each one must discover and experience Reality and in that alone is there joy, serenity and highest wisdom. How then can we come to this experience, through the change of outward circumstances or through transformation from within? Outer change implies the control of environment through legislation, through economic and social reform, through knowledge of facts and through fluctuating improvement, either violent or gradual. But does modification of the outer circumstances ever bring about fundamental inner transformation? Is not inner transformation first necessary to bring about an outward result? You may, through legislation, forbid ambition as ambition breeds ruthlessness, self-assertiveness, competition and conflict, but can ambition be rooted out from without? Will it not, suppressed in one way, assert itself in another? Does not the inner motive, private thought-feeling always determine the outer? To bring about an outward peaceful transformation should there not take place first a deep psychological change? Can the outer, however pleasant, bring about lasting contentment? The inner craving ever modifies the outer. Psychologically what you are your society, you State, your religion is; if you are lustful, envious, ignorant, then your environment is what you are. We create the world in which we live. To bring about a radical and peaceful change there must be voluntary and intelligent inner transformation; this psychological change is surely not to be brought about through compulsion and if it is, then there will be such inner conflict and confusion as will again precipitate society into disaster. The inner regeneration must be voluntary, intelligent, not compelled. We must first seek Reality and then only can there be peace and order about us. When you approach the problem of existence from without there is at once the dual process set going; in duality there is endless conflict and such conflict only dulls the mind-heart. When you approach the problem of existence from within there is no division between the inner and the outer; the division ceases because the inner is the outer, the thinker and his thoughts are one, inseparable. But we falsely separate the thought from the thinker and so try to deal only with the part, to educate and modify the part, thereby hoping to transform the whole. The part ever becomes more and more divided and thus there is more and more conflict. So we must be concerned with the thinker from within and not with the modification of the part, his thought. But unfortunately most of us are caught between the uncertainty of the outer and the uncertainty of the inner. It is this uncertainty that must be understood. It is the uncertainty of value that brings about conflict, confusion and sorrow and prevents our following a clear course of action either of the outer or of the inner. If we followed the outer with full awareness, perceiving its full significance, then such a course would inevitably lead to the inner, but unfortunately we get lost in the outer for we are not sufficiently pliable in our self-inquiry. As you examine sensory values by which our thoughts-feelings are dominated, and become aware of them without choice, you will perceive that the inner becomes clear. This discovery will bring freedom and creative joy. But this discovery and its experience cannot be made for you by another. Will your hunger be satisfied through watching another eat? Through your own self-awareness you must awaken to false values and so discover eternal value. There can be fundamental change within and without only when thought-feeling disentangles itself from those sensate values that cause conflict and sorrow. Questioner: In truly great works of art, poetry, music there is expressed and conveyed something indescribable which seems to mirror Reality or Truth or God. Yet it is a fact that in their private lives most of those who created such works have never succeeded in extricating themselves from the vicious circle of conflict. How can it be explained that an individual who has not liberated himself is able to create something in which the conflict of the opposites is transcended? Or to put the question in reverse, don't you have to conclude that creativeness is born out of conflict? Krishnamurti: Is conflict necessary for creativeness? What do we mean by conflict? We crave to be, positively or negatively. This constant craving breeds conflict. We consider this conflict inevitable, almost virtuous; we consider it essential for human growth. What happens when you are in conflict? Through conflict mind-heart is made weary, dull, insensitive. Conflict strengthens self-protective capacities, conflict is the substance on which the self thrives. In its very nature the self is the cause of all conflict, and where the self is, creation is not. Is conflict necessary for creative being? When do you feel that creative overpowering ecstasy? Only when all conflict has ceased, only when the self is absent, only when there is complete tranquillity. This stillness cannot take place when the mind-heart is agitated, when it is in conflict; this only strengthens the self-enclosing process. As most of us are in a state of constant struggle within ourselves, we rarely have such moments of high sensibility or stillness, and when they do occur they are accidental. So we try to recapture those accidental moments, and only further burden our mind-heart with the dead past. Does not the poet, the artist, go through the same process that we do? Perhaps he may be more sensitive, more alert and so more vulnerable, open, but surely he, too, experiences creation in moments of self-abnegation, self-forgetfulness, in moments of complete stillness. This experience he tries to express in marble or in music; but does not conflict come into being in expressing the experience, in perfecting the word, and not at the moment of experience itself? Creation can only take place when the mind-heart is still, and not caught in the net of becoming. The open passivity to Reality is not the result of craving with its will and conflict. Like us the artist has moments of stillness in which creation is experienced; then he puts it down in paint, in music, in form. His expression assumes great value for he has painted it, it is his work. Ambition, fame become important and in an endless, stupid struggle he is caught. He thus contributes to the world's misery, envy and bloodshed, passion and ill will. He gets lost in this struggle and the more he is lost the further recedes his sensibility, his vulnerability to truth. His worldly conflicts dim the joyous clarity even though his technical capacity helps him to carry on with his empty and hardening visions. But we are not great artists, musicians or poets; we have no special gifts or talents; we have no release through marble, painting or through the garland of words. We are in conflict and sorrow but we, too, have occasional moments of the immensity of Truth. Then momentarily we forget ourselves but soon we are back into our daily turmoil, blunting and hardening our mind-heart. The mind-heart is never still; if it is, it is the silence of weariness, but such a state is not the silence of understanding, of wisdom. This creative, expectant emptiness is not brought about by will or by desire; it comes into being when conflict of the self ceases. Conflict ceases only when there is complete revolution in value, not mere substitution. Through self-awareness alone can the mind-heart free itself from all values; this transcending of all values is not easy, it comes not with practice but with the deepening of awareness. It is not a gift, a talent of the few, but all who are strenuous and eager can experience creative Reality. Questioner: The present is an unmitigated tragic horror. Why do you insist that in the present is the Eternal? Krishnamurti: The present is conflict and sorrow, with an occasional flash of passing joy. The present weaves back and forth into the past and into the future, and so the present is restless. The present is the result of the past, our being is founded upon it. How can you understand the past save through its result, the present? You cannot dig into the past by any other instrument than the one you have, which is the present. The present is the doorway to the past and if you wish, to the future. What you are is the result of the past, of yesterday, and to understand yesterday you must begin with today. To understand yourself, you must begin with yourself as you are today. Without comprehending the present which is rooted in the past, you will have no understanding. The present misery of man is understood when through the door of the present he is able to be aware of the causes that have produced it. You cannot brush aside the present in trying to understand the past but only through awareness of the present does the past begin to unfold itself. The present is tragic and bloody; surely not by denying it, not by justifying it will we understand it. We have to face it as it is and uncover the causes that have brought about the present. How you regard the present, how your mind is conditioned to it, will reveal the process of the past; if you are prejudiced, nationalistic, if you hate, what you are now will pervert your understanding of the past; your passion, ill will and ignorance, what you are now, will corrupt your understanding of the causes that have led to the present. In understanding yourself, as you are now, the roll of the past unfolds itself. The present is of the highest importance; the present, however tragic and painful, is the only door to Reality. The future is the continuance of the past through the present; through understanding the present is the future transformed. The present is the only time for understanding for it extends into yesterday and into tomorrow. The present is the whole of time; in the seed of the present is the past and the future; the past is the present and the future is the present. The present is the Eternal, the Timeless. But we regard the present, the now, as a passage to the past or to the future; in the process of becoming, the present is a means to an end and thereby loses its immense significance. The becoming creates continuity, everlastingness, but it is not the Timeless, the Eternal. Craving to become weaves the pattern of time. Have you not experienced in moments of great ecstasy the cessation of time; there is no past, no future but an intense awareness, a timeless present? Having experienced such a state greed begins its activities and re-creates time, recalling, reviving, looking to the future for further experience, rearranging the pattern of time to capture the Timeless. Thus greed, the becoming, holds thought-feeling in the bondage of time. So be aware of the present, however sorrowful or pleasant; then it will unfold itself as a time process and if thought-feeling can follow its subtle and devious ways and transcend them, then that very extensional awareness is the timeless present. Look only to the present, neither to the past nor to the future, for love is the present, the Timeless. Questioner: You decry war and yet are you not supporting it? Krishnamurti: Are we not all of us maintaining this terrible mass murder? We are responsible, each one, for war; war is an end result of our daily life; it is brought into being through our daily thought-feeling-action. What we are in our occupational, social, religious relationships, that we project; what we are the world is. Unless we understand the primary and secondary issues involved in the responsibility for war, we shall be confused and unable to extricate ourselves from its disaster. We must know where to lay the emphasis and then only shall we understand the problem. The inevitable end of this society is war; it is geared to war, its industrialization leads to war; its values promote war. Whatever we do within its borders contributes to war. When we buy something, the tax goes towards war; the postage stamps help to support war. We cannot escape from war go where we will, especially now, as society is organized for total war. The most simple and harmless work contributes to war in one way or another. Whether we like it or not, by our very existence we are helping to maintain war. So what are we to do? We cannot withdraw to an island or to a primitive community, for the present culture is everywhere. So what can we do? Shall we refuse to support war by not paying taxes, not buying stamps? Is that the primary issue? If it is not, and if it is only the secondary, then do not let us be distracted by it. Is not the primary issue much deeper, that of the cause of war itself? If we can understand the cause of war then the secondary issue can be approached from a different point of view altogether; if we do not understand, then we shall be lost in it. If we can free ourselves from the causes of war then perhaps the secondary problem may not arise at all. So emphasis must be laid upon the discovery within oneself of the cause of war; this discovery must be made by each one and not by an organized group, for group activities tend to make for thoughtlessness, mere propaganda and slogan, which only breed further intolerance and strife. The cause must be self-discovered and thus each one through direct experience liberates himself from it. If we consider deeply we are well aware of the causes of war: passion, ill will and ignorance; sensuality, worldliness and the craving for personal fame and continuity; greed, envy and ambition; nationalism with its separate sovereignties, economic frontiers, social divisions, racial prejudices and organized religion. Cannot each one be aware of his greed, ill will, ignorance, and so free himself from them? We hold to nationalism for it is an outlet to our cruel, criminal instincts; in the name of our country or ideology we can murder or liquidate with impunity, become heroes, and the more we kill our fellowmen the more honor we receive from our country. Now is not liberation from the cause of conflict and sorrow the primary issue? If we do not lay emphasis upon this how will the solution of the secondary problems stop war? If we do not root out the causes of war in ourselves, of what value is it to tinker with the outward results of our inner state? We must, each one, dig deeply and clear away lust, ill will and ignorance; we must utterly abandon nationalism, racialism and those causes that breed enmity. We must concern ourselves wholly with that which is of primary importance and not be confused with secondary issues. Questioner: You are very depressing. I seek inspiration to carry on. you do not cheer us with words of courage and hope. Is it wrong to seek inspiration? Krishnamurti: Why do you want to be inspired? Is it not because in yourself you are empty, uncreative, lonely? You want to fill this loneliness, this aching void; you must have tried different ways of filling it and you hope to escape from it again by coming here. This process of covering up the arid loneliness is called inspiration. Inspiration then becomes a mere stimulation and as with all stimulation it soon brings its own boredom and insensitivity. So we go from one inspiration, stimulation, to another, each bringing its own disappointment and weariness; thus the mind-heart loses its pliability, its sensitivity; the inner capacity of tension is lost through this constant process of stretching and relaxing. Tension is necessary to discover but a tension that demands relaxation or a stimulation soon loses its capacity to renew itself, to be pliable, to be alert. This alert pliability cannot be induced from the outside; it comes when it is not dependent upon stimulation, upon inspiration. Is not all stimulation similar in effect? Whether you take a drink or are stimulated by a picture or an idea, whether you go to a concert or to a religious ceremony, or work yourself up over an act however noble or ignoble, does not all this blunt the mind-heart? A righteous anger, which is an absurdity, however stimulating and inspiring it may be, makes for insensitivity; and is not the highest form of intelligence, sensitivity, receptivity, necessary to experience Reality? Stimulation breeds dependence and dependence whether worthy or unworthy causes fear. It is relatively unimportant how one is stimulated or inspired, whether through organized church or politics or through distraction for the result will be the same - insensitivity caused through fear and dependence. Distractions become stimulations. Our society primarily encourages distraction, distraction in every form. Our thinking-feeling itself has become a process of wandering away from the centre, from Reality. So it is extremely difficult to withdraw from all distractions for we have become almost incapable of being choicelessly aware of what is. So conflict arises which further distracts our thought-feeling, and it is only through constant awareness that thought-feeling is able to extricate itself from the net of distractions. Besides, who can give you cheer, courage and hope? If we rely on another, however great and noble, we are utterly lost for dependence breeds possessiveness in which there is endless struggle and pain. Cheer and happiness are not ends in themselves; they are, as courage and hope, incidents in the search of something that is an end in itself. It is this end that must be sought after patiently and diligently, and only through its discovery will our turmoil and pain cease. The journey towards its discovery lies through oneself; every other journey is a distraction leading to ignorance and illusion. The journey within oneself must be undertaken not for a result, not to solve conflict and sorrow; for the search itself is devotion, inspiration. Then the journeying itself is a revealing process, an experience which is constantly liberating and creative. Have you not noticed that inspiration comes when you are not seeking it? It comes when all expectation has ceased, when the mind-heart is still. What is sought after is self-created and so is not the Real. Questioner: You say that life and death are one and the same thing. Please elaborate this startling statement. Krishnamurti: We know birth and death, existence and non-existence; we are aware of this conflict between the opposites, the desire to live, to continue, and the fear of death, of noncontinuance. Our life is held in the pattern of becoming and non-becoming. We may have theories, beliefs and accordingly experience, but they are still within the field of duality, of birth and death. We think-feel in terms of time, of living, of becoming, or of not becoming, or of death, or of extending this becoming beyond death. The pattern of our thought-feeling moves from the known to the known, from the past to the present, to the future; if there is fear of the future, it clings to the past or to the present. We are held in time and how can we, who think-feel in terms of time, experience the reality of Timelessness, in which life and death are one! Have you not experienced in moments of great intensity the cessation of time? Such a cessation is generally forced upon one; it is accidental but depending upon our pleasure in it we desire to repeat the experience again. So we become once more prisoners of time. Is it not possible for the mind-heart to stop formulating, to be utterly still and not forced into stillness by an act of will? Will and determination are still self-continuation and so within the field of time. Does not the determination to be, the will to become, imply self-growth, time, which makes for the fear of death? As the stump of a dead tree in the middle of a stream gathers the floating wreckage so we gather, we cling to our accumulation; thus we and the deathless stream of life are separate. We sit on the dead stump of our accumulation and consider life and death; we do not let go the ever accumulating process and be of the living waters. To be free from accumulation there must be deep self-knowledge, not the superficial knowledge of the few layers of our consciousness. The discovery and the experience of all the layers of consciousness is the beginning of true meditation. In the tranquillity of mind-heart is wisdom and Reality. Reality is to be experienced, not speculated upon. This experience can only be when the mind-heart ceases to accumulate. Mind-heart does not cease to accumulate through denial or through determination, but only through self-awareness; through self-knowledge the cause of accumulation is discovered. It is experienced only when the conflict of the opposites ceases. Only right thinking, which comes with self-knowledge and right meditation, can bring about the unity of life and death. It is only by dying each day that there can be eternal renewal. It is difficult to so die if you are in the process of becoming, if you are gathering, sitting on the stump of dead accumulation. You must abandon it, plunge into the ever living waters; you must die each day to the day's gathering, die both to the pleasant and the unpleasant. We cling to the pleasant and let the unpleasant go; so we strengthen in gratification and know death. Without seeking reward, let us abandon our gatherings and then only can there be the immortal. Then life is not opposed to death nor is death a darkening of life. OJAI 5TH PUBLIC TALK 1945 This morning I am going to answer questions only. These answers and talks will be of little significance if they remain merely on the verbal level. Most of us seek stimulation and find it in various ways but it soon wears out. Only experience keeps the mind-heart pliable and alert but experience is beyond and above intellectual and emotional gratification and stimulation. Feeling makes reason pliable and it is this pliability of reason with the vulnerability of feeling that brings experience. It is experience, when rightly understood, that transforms. At all times, and especially now, there is need for transformation through vital experience; this transformation is essential in a world that has become utterly ruthless, a world whose values are predominantly sensate, a world that is corrupt in its own degradation. Without deeply and widely experiencing eternal value we shall not find any solution to our problems; any answer other than that of the Real will only increase our burden and sorrow. To so experience each one must stand alone, not dependent on any authority, on any organization, religious or secular, for dependence of any kind creates uncertainty and fear thus preventing the experiencing of the Real. In the outer world there is no hope, no clarity, no creative and renewing understanding, there is only bloodshed and confusion and mounting disaster. Only within is there understanding and this understanding is to be discovered, not through example, not through authority. Through self-awareness and self-knowledge only can come tranquillity and wisdom. There is no tranquillity if you are following another; there is no peace if you are worldly; there is no understanding if there is self-ignorance. Through silent awareness of the outer and in being objectively aware of the events of life you are inevitably forced to be aware of the inner, the subjective; in comprehending the self the outer becomes clear and significant. The outer has no significance in itself; it has significance only in relation to the inner. To experience and understand the inner you must be prepared to be alone; you must withstand the persuasive weight of the outer, its logical and cunning deceits. Questioner: You said last Sunday that each one of us is responsible for these terrible wars. Are we also responsible for the abominable tortures in the concentration camps and for the deliberate extermination of a people in Central Europe? Krishnamurti: Is it not very evident that each one of us is responsible for war? Wars do not come into being out of unknown causes, they have definite sources and those who wish to extricate themselves from this periodical madness called war must search out these causes and free themselves. War is one of the greatest calamities that could happen to man who is capable of experiencing the Real. He must be concerned with eliminating the cause of war within himself, not with who is less or more degraded and terrible in war. We must not be carried away with secondary issues but be aware of the primary issue which is organized killing itself. The secondary issues may cause fear and the desire for vengeance, but without understanding the essential reasons for war conflict and sorrow will not cease. To kill another is the greatest crime.for man is capable of realizing the Highest. War, the deliberate organization of murder, is the greatest catastrophe that man can bring upon himself for with it comes untold misery and destruction, degradation and corruption; when once you admit such a vast "evil" as the organized murder of others, then you open the door to a host of minor disasters. Each one of us is responsible for war for each one has brought about the present condition, consciously or unconsciously by his attitude towards life, by the false values he has given to existence. Having lost the eternal value the passing sensory values become all important. There is no end to ever expanding desire. Things are necessary but have no eternal value and the mad desire for possessions ever leads to strife and misery. When acquisitiveness in every form is encouraged, when nationalism and separate sovereign states exist, when religion separates, when there is intolerance and ignorance then killing your fellowman is inevitable. War is the result of our every day life. Passion, ill will and oppression are justified when they are national; to kill for the State, for the country, for an ideology, is considered necessary, noble. Each one indulges in this degrading ruthlessness for there is in each one the desire to do harm. War becomes a means of releasing one's own brutal instincts and encourages irresponsibility. Such a state is only possible when sensate values predominate. As each one is responsible for the shaping of this culture, if each one does not radically transform himself then how can there be an end to this brutal world and its ways? Each one is responsible for these tragedies and disasters, for tortures and bestialities, if he thinks-feels in terms of nations, groups, or thinks of himself as Hindu or Buddhist, Christian or Moslem. If a so-called "foreigner" in India is killed by a nationalist, then I am responsible for that murder if I am a nationalist; but I am not responsible if I do not think-feel in terms of nations, groups or classes, if I am not lustful, if I have no ill will, if I am not worldly. Then only is there freedom from responsibility for killing, torturing, oppressing. We have lost the feeling of humanity; we feel responsible only to the class or group to which we belong; we feel responsible to a name, to a label. We have lost compassion, the love of the whole, and without this quickening flame of life we look to politicians, to priests, to some economic planning for peace and happiness. In these there is no hope. In each one alone is there creative understanding, that compassion which is necessary for the wellbeing of man. Right means create right ends, wrong means will bring only emptiness and death, not peace and joy. Questioner: I feel I cannot reach the other shore without help, without the Grace of God. If I can say Thy Will be Done and dissolve myself in it, do I not dissolve my limitations? If I can relinquish myself unconditionally is there not Grace to help me bridge the gulf which separates God and me? Krishnamurti: This abandonment of the self is not an act of will; this crossing over to the other shore is not an activity of purpose or of gain. Reality comes in the fullness of silence and wisdom. You may not invite Reality, it must come to you; you may not choose Reality, it must choose you. We must understand effort, unconditional stillness, self-abandonment; for through right awareness alone comes meditative tranquillity. What is right effort? There is an understanding of right effort when there is an awareness of the process of becoming. just as long as effort is made to become, so long will duality exist, the thinker separating himself from his thought. This conflict of opposites is considered inevitable and necessary for freedom and growth. When one who is greedy makes an effort to become non-greedy, this effort we consider righteous and spiritual. But is it right effort? Is effort spent in overcoming the opposite productive of understanding? Is one not still greedy in trying to become non-greedy? He may take on a new, gratifying verbal garb, but the maker of the effort is still the same, he is still greedy. The effort made to become, not only creates the conflict of opposites but also is directed along wrong channels, for, to become is still to be in conflict and sorrow; so there is no freedom for experiencing Truth in the long corridor of opposites. Our effort is spent in denying or accepting and thus thought-feeling is made blunt in this endless conflict. This surely is wrong effort for it is not productive of creative understanding. Right endeavour consists in being choicelessly aware of this conflict, in being silently observant without identification. It is this silent, choiceless awareness of conflict that brings freedom. In this passive awareness that is tranquil, Reality comes into being. Be aware of your conflict, of how you deny, justify, compare or identify; of how you try to become; be aware of the deep, full significance of the pain of the opposites. Then will come the experience of the inseparability of the thinker and his thought, the stillness of understanding through which alone there can be radical transformation, the crossing over to the other shore without the action of will. There is a vast difference between becoming still and being still. We must die each day to all experiences and accumulations, fears and hopes, and we can only do this by actively being aware of our conflicts, and then being passively still. We must live each day the four seasons, the spring, summer, autumn and winter of passivity. As in winter the fields lie fallow, open to the heavens, to revitalize themselves, so the mind-heart must allow itself to be open, creatively empty. Then only can there be the breath of Reality. This creative emptiness, this ardent passivity, is not brought about through an act of will. It is extremely difficult for those who are slaves to distraction, who are incessantly active, who are ever striving to become, to be alertly passive. If you would understand, the mind-heart must be still; there must be heightened sensitivity to receive and there can be tranquillity only in understanding. This silent awareness is not an act of determination but it comes in`to being when thought-feeling is not caught in the net of becoming. You never say to a child become still, but be still. We say to ourselves we will become and for this becoming we have various excuses and interminable reasons and so we are never still. The becoming still can never be the being still; only with the death of becoming is there being. In moments of great creativity, in moments of great beauty, there is utter tranquillity; in these moments there is complete absence of the self with all its conflicts; it is this negation, the highest form of thinking-feeling, that is essential for creative being. But these moments are rare with most of us, the moments when the thinker and his thought are transcended; these occasions happen unexpectedly, but the self soon returns. Having once experienced this living stillness thought-feeling clings to its memory thus preventing the further experience of Reality. This cultivation of memory is effort directed along wrong channels, resulting in the strengthening of the self with its conflict and pain; but if we are deeply aware of our problems and conflicts and understand them, then this very cultivation of self-knowledge brings about alert passivity and tranquillity. In this living silence is Reality. Only in utter simplicity, when all craving has ceased, is the bliss of Reality. Questioner: I am an inventor and I happen to have invented several things which have been used in this war. I think I am opposed to killing but what am I to do with my capacity? I cannot suppress it as the power to invent drives me on. Krishnamurti: Which do you think-feel is the more urgently important problem to understand, the power to kill or the capacity to invent? If you are concerned only with inventing, with the mere expression of your talent, then you must find out why you give so much emphasis to it. Does not your capacity give you a means of escape from life, from reality? Then is not your talent a barrier to relationship? To be is to be related and nothing can exist in isolation. So without self-knowledge your capacity to invent becomes dangerous to your neighbour and to yourself. Does your occupation aid in destroying your fellowman? Your inventions and activities may temporarily help but if they lead him to ultimate destruction then of what use are they? If the end result of this culture is mass murder then of what significance is your talent? What is the purpose of inventing, improving, rearranging if it all leads to the destruction of man? If you are only interested in fulfilling your particular capacity, disregarding the wider issues of life and the ultimate end of existence, then your talent is meaningless and worthless. Only in relation to the ultimate Reality is your capacity significant. I feel that all of you are not vitally interested in this question. Is this not also your problem? You may be an artist, a carpenter or have some other occupation and this question is as vital to you as to the inventor. If you are an artist or a doctor your occupation or the expression of your talent must have its foundation in reality, otherwise it becomes merely a form of self-expression and mere expression of the self leads inevitably to sorrow. If you are interested only in self-expression then you are contributing to the conflict, confusion and antagonism of man. Without first searching out the meaning of life mere self-expression, however gratifying, will only bring misery and disaster. Beware of mere talent. With self-knowledge the craving for self-fulfilment is transformed. The craving for fulfillment brings its own frustration and disillusionment, for the desire for self-fulfilment arises from ignorance. Questioner: Can I find God in a foxhole? Krishnamurti: A man who is seeking God will not be in a foxhole. How false are the ways of our thinking We create a false situation and in that hope to find truth; in the false we try to find the real. Happy is he who sees the false as the false and that which is true as true. We have become perverted in the ways of our thinking-feeling. In sorrow we wish to find happiness; only in abandoning the cause of sorrow is there joy. You and the soldier have created a culture which forces you to murder and to be murdered, and in the midst of this cruelty you desire to find love. If you are seeking God you will not be in a foxhole but if you are there and seek Him you will know how to act. We justify murder and in the very act of murdering we try to find love. We create a society essentially based on sensate value, on worldliness, which necessitates the foxhole. We justify and condone the foxhole and then, in the foxhole or in the bomber, we hope to find God, love. Without fundamentally altering the structure of our thought-feeling, the Real is not to be found. Being envious, greedy and ignorant we want to be peaceful, tolerant and wise; with one hand we murder and with the other we pacify. It is this contradiction that must be understood; you cannot have both greed and peace, the foxhole and God; you cannot justify ignorance and yet hope for enlightenment. The very nature of the self is to be in contradiction; and only when thought-feeling frees itself from its own opposing desires can there be tranquillity and joy. This freedom with its joy comes with deep awareness of the conflict of craving. When you become aware of the dual process of desire and are passively alert there is the joy of the Real, joy which is not the product of will or of time. You cannot escape from ignorance at any time, it must be dispelled through your own awakening; none can awaken you save yourself. Through your own self-awareness does the problem of your making cease to be. Questioner: What is a lasting way to solve a psychological problem? Krishnamurti: There are three stages of awareness, are there not, in any human problem? First, being aware of the cause and effect of the problem; second, being aware of its dual or contradictory process; and third, being aware of self and experiencing the thinker and his thought as one. Take any problem that you have: for example, anger. Be aware of its cause, physiological and psychological. Anger may arise from nervous tiredness and tension; it may arise from certain conditioning of thought-feeling, from fear, from dependence or from craving for security, and so on; it may arise through bodily and emotional pain. Many of us are aware of the conflict of the opposites; but because of pain or disturbance due to conflict, we instinctively seek to be rid of it violently or in varieties of subtle ways; we are concerned with escaping from the struggle rather than with understanding it. It is this desire to be rid of the conflict that gives strength to its continuity, and so maintains contradiction; it is this desire that must be watched and understood. Yet it is difficult to be alertly passive in the conflict of duality; we condemn or justify, compare or identify; so we are ever choosing sides and thus maintaining the cause of conflict. To be choicelessly aware of the conflict of duality is arduous but it is essential if you would transcend the problem. The modification of the outer, of the thought, is a self-protective device of the thinker; he sets his thought in a new frame which safeguards him from radical transformation. It is one of the many cunning ways of the self. Because the thinker sets himself apart from his thought, problems and conflicts continue, and the constant modification of his thought alone, without radically transforming himself merely continues illusion. The complete integration of the thinker with his thought cannot be experienced if there is no understanding of the process of becoming and the conflict of opposites. This conflict cannot be transcended through an act of will, it can only be transcended when choice has ceased. No problem can be solved on its own plane; it can be resolved lastingly only when the thinker has ceased to become. OJAI 6TH PUBLIC TALK 1945 This morning I shall answer as many questions as possible. Questioner: If we had not destroyed the evil that was in Central Europe it would have conquered us. Do you mean to say that we should not have defended ourselves? Aggression must be met. How would you meet it? Krishnamurti: This wave of aggression, of blood, of organized criminality, seems to arise periodically in one group and pass over to another. This is recurrent in history. No country is free from this aggression. We are all, each in his way, responsible for this wave of Is it possible to live without aggression and so without defence? Is all effort a series of attacks and defences? Can life be lived without this destructive effort? Each one should be aware of his responses to this problem. Does not all effort to become necessitate the self-assertiveness and self-expansion of the individual and so of the group or nation, and lead to conflict, antagonism and war? Is it possible to solve this problem of aggression along the lines of defence? Defence implies self-protection, opposition and conflict, and is antagonism to be dissolved by opposition? Is it possible to live in this world and yet be free from this constant battle between yours and mine, with its ruthless attack and defence? Because we desire to protect our name, our property, our nationality, our religion, our ideals, we cultivate the spirit of attack and defence. We are possessive, acquisitive and so we have created a social structure which necessitates progressively ruthless exploitation and aggression. This acquisitive becoming breeds its own opposition and so defence and attack become part of our daily existence. No solution can be found as long as we are thinking-feeling in terms of defence and attack, which only maintain confusion and strife. Is it possible to think-feel without defence and attack? It is possible only when there is love, when each one abandons greed, ill will and ignorance which express themselves through nationalism, craving for power and other forms of criminality and cruelty. If one wishes to solve this problem permanently surely thought-feeling must free itself from all acquisitiveness and fear. This attitude of attack and defence is cultivated in our daily life and ends ultimately in war and other catastrophes. The difficulty lies in our own contradictory nature; we want peace and yet we cultivate those causes that bring about war and destruction. We want happiness and freedom and yet we indulge in lust, ill will and thoughtlessness; we pray for understanding and yet deny it in our daily life; we want to enjoy both opposites and so we are confused and lost. If you want to put an end to this wave of ruthlessness, of appalling destruction and misery, if you wish to save your son, your husband, your neighbour, you must pay the price. This misery is not the creation of one group or race but of each one of us; each one must thoughtfully abandon the causes that produce these calamities and untold misery. You must completely set aside your nationalism, your greed and ill will, your craving for power and wealth and your adherence to organized religious prejudices which, while asserting the unity of man, set man against man. Only then will there be peace and joy. Why is it that we seem to be incapable of living creatively and happily without destroying each other? Is it not because we so condition ourselves through our own passion, ill will and stupidity that we are incapable of living joyously and serenely? We must break through our own conditioning and be as nothing. We arc afraid of being nothing so we escape and thus feed our fear with greed, hate, ambition. The problem is not how to defend but how to transcend the desire for self-expansion, the craving to become. Only those individuals who abandon their passions, their craving for fame and personal immortality, can help to bring about creative peace and joy. Questioner: In one's growth is there not a continuous and recurring process of the death of one's cherished hopes and desires; of cruel disillusionment in regard to the past; of transmutation of those negative phenomena into a more positive and vitalizing life -until the same stage is reached again on a higher spiral? Are not conflict and pain therefore indispensable to all growth and at all stages? Krishnamurti: Are conflict and pain necessary for creative being? Is sorrow necessary for understanding? Is not conflict inevitable in becoming, in self-expanding? Is not the creative state of being the freedom from conflict, from accumulated existence? Does accumulation at any stage on the spiral of becoming bring about the creative being? There is becoming and growth along the horizontal path of existence, but does it lead to the Timeless? It is to be experienced only when the horizontal is abandoned. Is the experience of being, related to the conflict of the horizontal, the conflict of becoming? Through time the Timeless cannot be realized. What happens when we are in conflict? In the struggle to overcome conflict we become disillusioned, we enter into darkness or, being in conflict, we try to find escapes in various forms. If thought-feeling is caught neither in disillusionment nor in comforting refuge then conflict will find the means of its own ending. Conflict produces disillusionment or the desire to escape, for we are unwilling to think out, feel out all the implications involved in it; we are lazy, too conditioned to change, accepting authority and the easy way of life. To understand conflict and to be able to examine it with freedom, there must be a certain disinterested tranquillity. But when we are in conflict or in sorrow our instinctive response is to escape from it, to run away from its cause, not to face its hidden significance; so we seek various channels of escape: activity, amusement, gods, war. So distractions multiply; they become more important than the cause of sorrow itself; we then become intolerant of the means of escape of others and try to modify or reform them, but conflict and sorrow continue. Now is conflict necessary for understanding? Is understanding the result of growth? Do we not mean by growth the constant becoming of the self, accumulating and renouncing, being greedy and becoming non-greedy, the endless process of becoming? The very nature of the self is to create contradiction. Is conflict between the opposites growth bringing with it understanding? Does the struggle in the endless corridor of the opposites lead anywhere except to further conflict and sorrow? There is no end to conflict and sorrow in becoming. This becoming leads to the conflict of contradiction in which most of us are caught; being caught in it, we think struggle and pain are inevitable, a necessary and evolutionary process. So time becomes an indispensable factor for growth, for further becoming. In this spiral of becoming there is no end to strife and pain. So our problem is how to put an end to them. Thought-feeling must go beyond and above the pattern of duality; that is, when there is conflict and pain, live with it unconditionally without escaping; to escape is to compare, to justify, to condemn; to be aware of sorrow is not to seek a refuge, an alleviation, but to be aware of the ways of thought-feeling. So when there is understanding of the futility of refuge, of escape, then that very sorrow creates the necessary flame that will consume it. Tranquillity of understanding is needed to transcend sorrow, not the conflict and pain of becoming. When the self is not occupied with its own becoming there is an unpremeditated clarity, a deep ecstasy. This intensity of joy is the outcome of the abandonment of the self. Questioner: I have struggled for many, many years with a personal problem. I am still struggling. What am I to do? Krishnamurti: What is the process of understanding a problem? To understand, mind-heart must unburden itself of its accumulation so that it is capable of right perception. If you would understand a modern painting you must, if you can, put aside your classical training, your prejudices, your trained responses. Similarly if we want to understand a complex psychological problem we must be capable of examining it without any condemnatory or favourable bias; we must be capable of approaching it with dispassion and freshness. The questioner says that he has been struggling for many years with his problem. In his struggle he has accumulated what he would call experience, knowledge, and with this increasing burden he tries to solve the problem; thus he has never come face to face with it openly, anew, but has always approached it with the accumulation of many years. It is the accumulated memory that confronts the problem and so there is no understanding of it. The dead past darkens the ever living present. Most of us are driven by some passion and are unaware of it, but if we are, we generally justify or condone it. But if it is a passion which we desire to transcend, we generally struggle with it, try to conquer or suppress it. In trying to overcome it we have not understood it, in trying to suppress it we have not transcended it. The passion still remains or it has taken another form which is still the cause of conflict and sorrow. This constant and continuous struggle does not bring understanding but only strengthens conflict, burdening the mind-heart with accumulated memory. But if we can delve deeply into it and die to it or come anew to it without the burden of yesterday, then we can comprehend it. Because our mind-heart is alert and keen, deeply aware and still, the problem is transcended. If we can approach our problem without judging, without identifying, then the causes that lie behind it are revealed. If we would understand a problem we must set aside our desires, our accumulated experiences, our patterns of thought. The difficulty is not in the problem itself but in our approach to it. The scars of yesterday prevent the right approach. Conditioning translates the problem according to its own pattern, which in no way liberates thought-feeling from the struggle and pain of the problem. To translate the problem is not to understand it; to understand it and so transcend it interpretation must cease. What is fully, completely understood leaves no trace as memory. Questioner: I am intensely lonely. I seem to be in constant conflict in my relationships on account of this loneliness. It is a disease and must be healed. Can you help me, please, to heal it? Krishnamurti: The present chaos, misery, is a product of this aching loneliness, void, for thought itself has become empty, without significance. Wars and increasing confusion are the outcome of our empty lives and activities. Whether we are conscious of it or not, most of us are lonely; the more we are aware of it the more intense, burning and painful it becomes. The immature are easily satisfied in their emptiness but the more one is aware the greater is this problem. There is no escape from aching loneliness, nor is it to be overcome by thoughtlessness, by ignorance; ignorance, like superstition, yields a certain gratification but this only furthers conflict and sorrow. Most of us are intensely lonely and the anguish is penetrating and dulls the mind-heart. Its engulfing sorrow seems to spread endlessly and we seek constantly to escape from it, to cover it up, to fill this aching void consciously or unconsciously with hope and faith, with amusement and distraction. We try to cover up its anguish through activity, through the pleasure of knowledge, of belief, and of every form of addiction, religious and worldly. Our search for a refuge, for a comfort from this pain is endless; things, relationships and knowledge are,means of escape from the persistent anguish of loneliness. The movement from one escape to another is considered advancement; we condemn the man who fills this void with drink and amusement but the man who seeks a permanent escape, calling it noble, we consider worthy, spiritual. Is there any enduring escape from this emptiness? We try various ways to fill the void but again and again we become aware of it. Do not all remedies however noble and gratifying merely avoid the problem? You may find temporary relief but anguish soon returns. To find the right and lasting answer to loneliness we must first cease to run away from it, and this is very difficult for thought is ever seeking a refuge, an escape. It is only when the mind-heart can accept this void unconditionally, yielding to it without any motive, without any hope or fear, that there can be its transformation. If you would truly understand the problem of loneliness and its greatness the values of the world must be set aside for they are distractions from the Real. These distractions and their values are the outcome of your desire to escape from your own emptiness and so they, too, are empty. Only when the mind-heart is stripped of all its pretensions and formulations can this aching emptiness be transcended. Questioner: I have had what might be called a spiritual experience, a guidance, or a certain realization. how am I to deal with it? Krishnamurti: Most of us have had deep experiences, call them by what name you will; we have had experiences of great ecstasy, of great vision, of great love. The experience fills our being with its light, with its breath; but it is not abiding, it passes away, leaving its perfume. With most of us the mind-heart is not capable of being open to that ecstasy. The experience was accidental, uninvited, too great for the mind-heart. The experience is greater than the experiencer and so the experiencer sets about to reduce it to his own level, to his sphere of comprehension. His mind is not still; it is active, noisy, rearranging; it must "deal" with the experience; it must organize it; it must spread it; it must tell others of its beauty. So the mind reduces the inexpressible into a pattern of authority or a direction for conduct. It interprets and translates the experience and so enmeshes it in its own triviality. Because the mind-heart does not know how to sing it pursues instead the singer. The interpreter, the translator of the experience, must be as deep and wide as the experience itself if he would understand it; since he is not, he must cease to interpret it; to cease, he must be mature, wise in his understanding. You may have a significant experience but how you understand it, how you interpret it depends on you the interpreter; if your mind-heart is small, limited, then you translate the experience according to your own conditioning. It is this conditioning that must be understood and broken down before you can hope to grasp the full significance of the experience. The maturity of mind-heart comes as it frees itself from its own limitations and not through clinging to the memory of a spiritual experience. If it clings to memory it abides with death, not with life. Deep experience may open the door to understanding, to self-knowledge and right thinking, but with many it becomes only a stirring stimulation, a memory, and soon loses its vital significance, preventing further experience. We translate all experience in terms of our own conditioning, the deeper it is the more alertly aware must we be not to misread it. Deep and spiritual experiences are rare and if we have such experiences we reduce them to the petty level of our own mind and heart. If you are a Christian or a Hindu or a non-believer you accordingly translate such experiences, reducing them to the level of your own conditioning. If your mind-heart is given over to nationalism and greed, to passion and ill will, then such experiences will be used to further the slaughter of your neighbour; then you seek guidance to bomb your brother; then to worship is to destroy or torture those who are not of your country, of your faith. It is essential to be aware of your conditioning rather than to try to "do something" about the experience itself, but mind-heart clings to the experiences of yesterday and so becomes incapable of understanding the living present. OJAI 7TH PUBLIC TALK 1945 Existence is painful and complex. To understand the sorrow of our existence we must think-feel anew, we must approach life simply and directly; if we can, we must begin each day anew. We must be able each day to revalue the ideals and patterns that we have brought into being. Life can be deeply and truly understood only as it exists in each one; you are that life and without comprehending it there can be no enduring joy and tranquillity. Our conflict within and without arises, does it not, from the changing and contradictory values based on pleasure and pain? Our struggle lies in trying to find a value that is wholly satisfying, unvarying and un-disturbing; we are seeking permanent value that will ever gratify without any shadow of doubt or pain. Our constant struggle is based on this demand for lasting security; we crave security in things, in relationship, in thought. Without understanding the problem of insecurity there is no security. If we seek security we shall not find it; the search for security brings its own destruction. There must be insecurity for the comprehension of Reality, the insecurity that is not the opposite of security. A mind that is well anchored, which feels safe in some refuge, can never understand Reality. The craving for security breeds slothfulness; it makes the mind-heart unliable and insensitive, fearful and dull; it hinders the vulnerability to Reality. In deep insecurity is Truth realized. But we need a certain security to live; we need food, clothes and shelter, without which existence is not possible. It would be a comparatively simple matter to organize and distribute effectively if we were satisfied with our daily fundamental needs only. Then there would be no individual, no national assertiveness, competitive expansion and ruthlessness; there would be no need for separate sovereign governments; there would be no wars if we were wholly satisfied with our daily needs. But we are not. Yet why is it not possible to organize our needs? It is not possible because of the incessant conflict of our daily life with its greed, cruelty, hatred. It is not possible because we use our needs as a means of gratifying our psychological demands. Being inwardly uncreative, empty, destructive, we use our needs as a means of escape; so needs assume far greater significance than they really have. Psychologically they become all important; so sensate values assume great significance; property, name, talent, become the means for position, power, domination. Over things made by hand or by mind we are ever in conflict; hence economic planning for existence becomes the dominating problem. We crave for things which create the illusion of security and comfort but which bring us only conflict, confusion and antagonism. We lose in the security of things made by the mind that joy of creative Reality, the very nature of which is insecurity. A mind that is seeking security is ever in fear; it can never be joyous, it can never know creative being. The highest form of thinking-feeling is negative comprehension and its very basis is insecurity. The more we consider the world without understanding our psychological cravings, demands and conflicts, the more complex and insoluble the problem of existence becomes. The more we plan and organize our economic existence without understanding and transcending the inner passions, fears, envies, the more conflict and confusion will come into being. Contentment with little comes with the understanding of our psychological problems, not through legislation or the determined effort to possess little. We must eliminate intelligently those psychological demands which find gratification in things, in position, in capacity. If we do not seek power and domination, if we are not self-assertive, there will be peace; but as long as we are using things, relationship or ideas as means to gratify our ever increasing psychological cravings, so long will there be contention and misery. With the freedom from craving there comes right thinking and right thinking alone can bring tranquillity. Questioner: I come from a part of the world which has suffered terribly in this war. I see around me widespread hunger, disease, and a great danger of civil war and bloodshed unless these problems are tackled immediately. I feel it my duty to make my contribution to their solution. On the other hand I see in the world of today the need for a point of view like yours. Is it possible for me to pursue my first objective without neglecting the second? In other words, how can I continue the two? Krishnamurti: Only in the search of the Real can there be an enduring solution to our problems. To separate existence from the Real is to continue in ignorance and sorrow. To grapple with the problems of hunger, mass murder and destruction on their own planes, is to further misery and catastrophe. In the search of the Real the world's problem which is the individual problem will find a lasting answer. But if you are only concerned with the reorganization of greed, ill will and ignorance there will be no end to confusion and antagonism. If the reformer, the contributor to the solution of the world's problems, has not radically transformed himself, if he has had no inner revolution of values then what he contributes will only add further to conflict and misery. He who is eager to reform the world must first understand himself for he is the world. The present misery and degradation of man is brought on by man himself and if he merely plans to reform the pattern of conflict without fundamentally understanding himself he will only increase ignorance and sorrow. If each one seeks eternal value then there will be an end to the conflict within and so peace will come into the world; then only will those causes that perpetuate antagonism, confusion and misery cease. If you want to put an end to the conflict, confusion and misery with which we are confronted everywhere, from where are you to begin? Are you to begin with the world, with the outer, and try to rearrange its values while maintaining your own nationalism, acquisitiveness and hatred, religious dogma and superstition? Or must you begin with yourself to eliminate drastically those causes that produce conflict and sorrow? If you are able to set aside the passion and worldliness on which present culture is built, then you will discover and experience eternal value which is never within any framework; then you might be able to help others free themselves from bondage. We desire, unfortunately, to combine the eternal with a whole series of values which lead to antagonism, conflict and misery. If you would seek Truth you must abandon those values that are based on sensation and gratification, on passion and ill will, possessiveness and greed. You need not let your lives be guided by economists, by politicians and priests with their endless plans for peace; they have led you to death and destruction. You have made them your leaders but now, with deep awareness, you must become responsible for yourself for within you is the cause and the solution of all conflict and sorrow. You created it and you alone can free yourself, not another can save you. Therefore our first duty, if one may use that word, is to search out the Real which alone can bring peace and joy. In it alone is there enduring unity of man; in it alone can conflict and sorrow cease; in it alone is there creative being. Without this inward treasure the outward organization of law and economic planning have little significance. With the awareness of the Real the outer and inner cease to be separate. Questioner: I have tried to meditate along the lines you suggested last year. I have gone into it fairly deeply. I feel that meditation and dreams have a relationship. What do you think? Krishnamurti: For those who practice meditation, it is a process of becoming, of building up, of denying or of imitating, of concentration, of narrowing down thought-feeling. They either cultivate virtue as a means towards a formulated end, or try to focus their wandering attention on a saint, a teacher, or an idea. Many use various techniques to go beyond the reach of the means, but the means shape the mind-heart, and so in the end they become slaves to the means. The means and the end are not different, they are not separate. If you are seeking an end you will find the means for it, but such an end is not the Real. The Real comes into being, you cannot seek it; it must come, you cannot induce it. But meditation as generally practised is craving to become or not to become; it is a subtle form of self-expansion, self-assertiveness; and so it becomes merely a series of struggles within the pattern of duality. The effort of becoming, positively or negatively, on different levels does not put an end to conflict; only with the cessation of craving is there tranquillity. If the meditator does not know himself his meditation is of little value and becomes even a hindrance to comprehension. Without self-knowledge meditation is not possible, and without meditative awareness there is no self-knowledge. If I do not understand myself, my cravings, my motives, my contradictions, how can I comprehend truth? If I am not aware of my contradictory states, if I am passionate, ignorant, greedy, envious, meditation only strengthens the self-enclosing process; without self-knowledge there is no foundation for right thinking; without right thinking thought-feeling cannot transcend itself. A lady once said that she had practised meditation for a number of years and presently went on to explain that a certain group of people must be destroyed for they were bringing misery and destruction to man. Yet she practised brotherhood, love and peace, which she said had guided her life. Do not many of you who practice meditation talk of love and brotherhood, yet condone or participate in war which is organized murder? What significance then has your meditation? Your meditation only strengthens your own narrowness, ill will and ignorance. Those who would understand the deep significance of meditation must begin first with themselves, for self-knowledge is the foundation of right thinking. Without right thinking how can thought go far? You must begin near to go far. Self-awareness is arduous; to think-out, feel-out every thought-feeling is strenuous; but this awareness of every thought-feeling will bring to an end the wandering of the mind. When you try to meditate do you not find that your mind wanders and chatters ceaselessly? It is of little use to brush aside every thought but one and try to concentrate upon that one thought which you have chosen. Instead of trying to control these wandering thoughts become aware of them, think-out, feel-out every thought, comprehend its significance, however pleasant or unpleasant; try to understand each thought-feeling. Each thought-feeling so pursued will yield its meaning and thus the mind, as it comprehends its own repetitive and wandering thoughts, becomes emptied of its own formulations. The mind is the result of the past, it is a storehouse of many interests, of contradictory values; it is ever gathering, ever becoming. We must be aware of these accumulations and understand them as they arise. Suppose you have collected letters for many years; now you look into the drawer and read letter after letter, keeping some and discarding others; what you keep you reread and again you discard till the drawer is empty. Similarly, be aware of every thought-feeling, comprehend its significance, and should it return reconsider it for it has not been fully understood. As a drawer is useful only when empty so the mind must be free of all its accumulations for only then can there be that openness to wisdom and the ecstasy of the Real. Tranquillity of wisdom is not the result of an act of will, it is not a conclusion, a state to be achieved. It comes into being in the awareness of understanding. Meditation becomes significant when the mind-heart is aware, thinking-out, feeling-out every thought-feeling that arises without comparison or identification. For identification and comparison maintain the conflict of duality and there is no solution within its pattern. I wonder how many of you have really practised meditation? If you have, you will have noticed how difficult it is to be extensively aware without the narrowing down of thought-feeling. In trying to concentrate, the conflicting thoughts-feelings are suppressed or pushed aside or overcome and through this process there can be no understanding. Concentration is gained at the expense of deep awareness. If the mind is petty and limited, concentration will not make it any the less small and trivial; on the contrary it will strengthen its own nature. Such narrow concentration does not make the mind-heart vulnerable to Reality; it only hardens the mind-heart in its own obstinacy and ignorance and perpetuates the self-enclosing process. When the mind-heart is extensive, deep and tranquil there is the Real. If the mind is seeking a result, however noble and worthy, if it is concerned with becoming it ceases to be extensive and infinitely pliable. It must be as the unknown to receive the Unknowable. It must be utterly tranquil for the being of the Eternal. So the mind must understand every value it has accumulated and in this process the many layers of consciousness, both the open and the hidden, are uncovered and understood. The more there is an awareness of the conscious layers the more the hidden layers come to the surface; if the conscious layers are confused and disturbed then the deeper layers of consciousness cannot project themselves into the conscious, save through dreams. Awareness is the process of freeing the conscious mind from the bondages which cause conflict and pain and thus making it open and receptive to the hidden. The hidden layers of consciousness convey their significance through dreams and symbols. If every thought-feeling is thought-out, felt-out, as fully and deeply as possible, without condemnation or comparison, acceptance or identification, then all the hidden layers of consciousness will reveal themselves. Through constant awareness the dreamer ceases to dream, for through alert and passive awareness every movement of thought-feeling of the open and hidden layers of consciousness is being understood. But if one is incapable of thinking-out, feeling-out every thought completely and fully then one begins to dream. Dreams need interpretation and to interpret there must be free and open intelligence; instead, the dreamer goes to a dream specialist, thus creating for himself other problems. Only in deep extensive awareness can there be an end to dreams and their anxious interpretation. Right meditation is very effective in freeing the mind-heart from its self-enclosing process. The open and hidden layers of consciousness are the result of the past, of accumulation, of centuries of education, and surely such an educated, conditioned mind cannot be vulnerable to the Real. Occasionally, in the still silence after the storm of conflict and pain, there comes inexpressible beauty and joy; it is not the result of the storm but of the cessation of conflict. The mind-heart must be passively still for the creative being of the Real. Questioner: Will you please explain the idea that one must die each day, or that one must live the four seasons in a day? Krishnamurti: Is it not essential that there should be a constant renewal, a rebirth? If the present is burdened with the experience of yesterday there can be no renewal. Renewal is not the action of birth. and death; it is beyond the opposites; only freedom from the accumulation of memory brings renewal and there is no understanding save in the present. Mind can understand the present only if it does not compare, judge; the desire to alter or condemn the present without understanding it gives continuance to the past. Only in comprehending the reflection of the past in the mirror of the present, without distortion, is there renewal. The accumulation of memory is called knowledge; with this burden, with the scars of experience, thought is ever interpreting the present and so giving continuity to its own scars and conditioning. This continuity is time-binding and so there is no rebirth, no renewal. If you have lived an experience fully, completely, have you not found that it leaves no traces behind? It is only the incomplete experiences that leave their mark, giving continuity to self-identified memory. We consider the present as a means to an end, so the present loses its immense significance. The present is the Eternal. But how can a mind that is made up, put together, understand that which is not put together, which is beyond all value, the Eternal? As each experience arises live it out as fully and deeply as possible; think it out, feel it out extensively and profoundly; be aware of its pain and pleasure, of your judgments and identifications. Only when experience is completed is there a renewal. We must be capable of living the four seasons in a day; to be keenly aware, to experience, to understand and be free of the gatherings of each day. With the end of each day the mind- heart must empty itself of the accumulation of its pleasures and pains. We gather consciously and unconsciously; it is comparatively easy to discard what has been consciously acquired but it is more difficult for thought to free itself from the unconscious accumulations, the past, the incompleted experiences with their recurring memories. Thought-feeling clings so tenaciously to what it has gathered because it is afraid to be insecure. Meditation is renewal, the dying each day to the past; it is an intense passive awareness, the burning away of the desire to continue, to become. As long as mind-heart is self-protecting there will be continuity without renewal. Only when the mind ceases to create is there creation. Questioner: How would you cope with an incurable disease? Krishnamurti: Most of us do not understand ourselves, our various tensions and conflicts, our hopes and fears, which often produce mental and physical disorders. Of primary importance is psychological understanding and well being of the mind-heart, which then can deal with the accidents of disease. As a tool wears out so does the body, but those who cling to sensory values find this wasting away to be a sorrow beyond measure; they live for sensation and gratification and the fear of death and pain drives them to delusion. As long as thought-feeling is predominantly sensate there will be no end to delusion and fear; the world in its very nature being a distraction it is essential that the problem of delusion and health be approached patiently and wisely. If we are organically diseased then let us cope with this condition as with all mechanism, in the best way possible. The psychological delusions, tensions, conflicts, maladjustments produce greater misery than organic disease. We try to eradicate symptoms rather than cause; the cause itself may be sensate value. There is no end to the gratification of the senses which only creates greater and greater turmoil, tension, fear and so on; such a living must culminate in mental and physical disorder or in war. Unless there is a radical change in value there will and must be ever increasing disharmony within, and so, without. This radical change in value must be brought about through understanding the psychological being; if you do not change, your delusions and ill health will inevitably increase; you will become unbalanced, depressed, giving continuous employment to physicians. If there is no deep revolution of values then disease and delusion become a distraction, an escape, giving opportunity for self-indulgence. We can unconditionally accept an incurable disease only when thought-feeling is able to transcend the value of time. The predominance of sensory values cannot bring sanity and health. There must be a cleansing of the mind-heart which cannot be done by any outer agency. There must be self-awareness, a psychological tension. Tension is not necessarily harmful; there must be right exertion of the mind. It is only when tension is not properly utilized that it leads to psychological difficulties and delusions, to ill health and perversions. Tension of the right kind is essential for understanding; to be alertly and passively aware is to give full attention without the conflict of opposition. Only when this tension is not properly understood does it lead to difficulty; living, relationship, thought demand heightened sensitivity, a right tension. We are conscious of this tension and generally misread or avoid it thus preventing the understanding that it would bring. Tension or sensitivity can heal or destroy. Life is complex and painful, a series of inner and outer conflicts. There must be an awareness of the mental and emotional attitudes which cause outward and physical disturbances. To understand them you must have time for quiet reflection; to bc aware of your psychological states there must be periods of quiet solitude, a withdrawal from the noise and bustle of daily life and its routine. This active stillness is essential not only for the well being of the mind-heart but for the discovery of the Real without which physical or moral well being is of little significance. Unfortunately most of us give little time to serious and quiet self-recollectedness. We allow ourselves to become mechanical, thoughtlessly following routine, accepting and being driven by authority; we become mere cogs in the vast machine of the present culture. We have lost creativeness; there is no inward joy. What we are inwardly that we project outwardly. Mere cultivation of the outer does not bring about inward well being; only through constant self-awareness and self-knowledge can there be inward tranquillity. Without the Real, existence is conflict and pain. OJAI 8TH PUBLIC TALK 1945 The problem of relationship is not easily comprehended, it requires patience and pliability of mind-heart; mere adjustment or conformity to a system of conduct does not bring about the understanding of relationship; such adjustment and conformity cloud and intensify the struggle. If we would deeply comprehend relationship it must be approached afresh each day, without the scars or memories of yesterday's experiences. These conflicts in relationship build a wall of continuous resistance and instead of bringing wider and deeper unity create insurmountable differences and disunity. As you would read an interesting book without skipping a page, so relationship must be studied and understood; the solution to the problem of relationship is not to be found outside of it but in it; the answer is not at the end of the book but is to be found in the manner of our approach to relationship. How you read the book of relationship is of far greater importance than the answer, or the overcoming of the struggle that exists in it. It must be approached every day anew without the burden of yesterday; it is this liberation from yesterday, from time, that brings creative understanding. To be is to be related; there is no such thing as isolated being. Relationship is a conflict within and without; the inward conflict extended becomes world conflict. You and the world are not separate; your problem is the world's problem; you bear the world in you; without you it is not. There is no isolation and there is no object that is not related. This conflict must be understood not as a problem of the part but of the whole. You are aware, are you not, of conflict in relationship, of the constant struggle between you and another, between you and the world? Why is there conflict in relationship? Does it not arise because of the interaction of dependency and conformity, of domination and possessiveness? We conform, we depend, we possess because of inward insufficiency which gives rise to fear. Do we not know this fear in intimate, close relationship? Relationship is a tension, and deep awareness is necessary to understand it. Why do we crave to possess or dominate? Is it not because of the fear of insufficiency? Being fearful we long to be secure; emotionally and mentally we desire to be safe and well anchored in things, n people, in ideas. Inwardly we crave security which express outwardly in dependency, conformity, possessiveness and so on. It is the burning and seemingly ceaseless void that drives us to find a refuge, a hope, in relationship, and we confuse the urge to avoid our anguish of loneliness with love, duty, responsibility. But what is the true significance of relationship? Is it not a process of self-revelation? Is not relationship a mirror in which, if we are aware, we can observe without distortion our private thoughts and motives, our inward state? In relationship the subtle process of the self, of the ego, is revealed and through choiceless awareness alone can inward insufficiency be transcended. Conflict ceases in the aloneness of Reality. This transcending is love. Love has no motive; it is its own eternity. Questioner: How can I become integrated? Krishnamurti: What do we mean by integration? Does it not mean to be made whole, to be without conflict and sorrow? Most of us try to be integrated within the superficial layers of our consciousness; we try to integrate ourselves so as to function normally within the pattern of society; we desire to fit into an environment which we accept as being normal; but we do not question the significance or the value of the social structure about us. Conformity to a pattern is considered integration; education and organized religion aid us towards this conformity. Has not integration a deeper significance than mere adjustment to society and its patterns? Is conformity integration? Is not integration pure being and not just the satisfaction of our desire to be made whole, to become normal? The motive behind the urge for integration is surely of great significance. The urge for integration may arise from ambition, from the desire for power, from the fear of insufficiency and so on. Coordination is necessary to achieve a result, but consider what is involved in the idea of attainment of desire; self-assertiveness, envy, enmity, the pettiness of success, strife and pain. Some people suppress the craving for worldly success but indulge in the craving to become virtuous, to be a Master, to attain spiritual glory, but the craving to become ever leads to conflict, confusion and antagonism. This again is not true integration. True integration comes when there is awareness and so understanding through all layers of consciousness. Our superficial consciousness is the result of education, of influence and only when thought transcends its own self-created limitation can there be true integration. The many opposing and contradictory parts of our consciousness can be integrated only when the creator of these divisions ceases to be; within the pattern of the self there can be only conflict, there can never be integration, completeness. Integration comes with the freedom from craving. It is not an end in itself but if you seek self-knowledge, ever deeply, then integration becomes the way to Reality. Questioner: You may be wise about some things but why are you, as it has been represented to me, against organization? Would you please explain why you consider it a hindrance in our search for Reality? Krishnamurti: Why do we organize? Is it not for efficiency? We organize our existence in order to live; we can organize our thought-feeling so as to make it efficient but efficient for what? For killing, oppressing, gaining power? If certain ideas, beliefs, doctrines appeal to you, you join with others to spread effectively what you believe and for this you create an organization. But is the understanding of Reality the result of propaganda, organized belief, enforced or subtle conformity? Is Reality discovered through the doctrines of churches, cults or sects? Is Reality to be found through compulsion, through imitation? We think, do we not, that through conformity, through formulation of beliefs we shall know the Real? Must not thought-feeling transcend all conditioning to discover the Real? Thought-feeling now experiences that in which it is educated, in which it believes, but such experience is limited and narrow; such a mind cannot experience the Real. Conformity can be organized efficiently; adherence to a formula, to a doctrine can be effectively manipulated but will that lead to Reality? Does not Reality come into being when there is complete liberation from all authority, from all compulsion and imitation? This state of being we experience only when thought is utterly still. Only in freedom is there the experience of the Real. Regimentation of thought-feeling in the name of religion, peace and freedom is made attractive and acceptable; your tendency is to accept authority; you desire to be led; you look to others to direct your conduct. The radio, movies, newspapers, governments, churches are moulding your thought and feeling, and because you desire to conform their task becomes easy. Your craving for security creates fear and it is fear that yields to the oppression of authority; fear forces you not how to think but what to think. Only in freedom from fear is there the discovery of the Real. Group effort, without conforming to authority, could be very significant through the revelation of inward individual motives and purposes; the group could mirror the activities of the self and through relationship awaken self-awareness. But if the group is used for self-assertiveness through propaganda or as a means of escape then it can become a hindrance to the discovery of Truth. Creativeness comes into being when thought-feeling is not held within any pattern, within any formulation. The self is the result of conformity, of conditioning, of accumulated memory; so the self is never free to discover; it can only expand in its own conditioning and organize itself to be efficient and subtle in its assertiveness, pursuits and demands, but it can never be free. Only when the self ceases to become is there the Real. To be free to discover, the memory of yesterday must cease; it is the burden of the past that gives continuity and continuity is conformity. Do not conform in order to be free for this does not bring freedom and in freedom alone is there creative being. Freedom cannot be organized and when it is it ceases to be freedom. We try to enclose the living Truth in gratifying patterns of thought-feeling and thereby destroy it. Questioner: I would like to ask you if the Masters are not a great source of inspiration to us. As life is unequal there must be Master and pupil, surely? Krishnamurti: Is not this inequality the result of ignorance? Does not this division of man into the high and low deny the Real? Is not this domination and submission of man the outcome of ignorance and thoughtlessness? Our social structure is built upon division and difference of levels of the clerk and the executive, the general and the soldier, the bishop and the priest, the one who knows and the one who does not know. This division is based on sensate value, which sets man against man. This social pattern breeds endless opposition and antagonism and there can be an end to conflict within this pattern only when thought-feeling transcends greed, ill will and ignorance. With our acquisitive and competitive mentality we try to grasp Reality and build a ladder for achievement; we create the high and the low, the Master and the pupil. We think of Reality as an end to be achieved, as a reward for righteousness; we think it is to be attained through time, and so maintain the constant division between Master and pupil, the successful and the ignorant. The wise, the compassionate do not think of man in terms of division; the foolish are caught up in the social and religious division of man. Those who are conscious of this division and know it to be false and stupid overcome it but yet they persist in division with regard to those they call Masters. If you perceive the misery in this sensate world caused by the division of man into the high and the low, why then are you not aware of it on all planes of existence? In the sensate world the division of man against man is the result of greed and ignorance and it is also greed and ignorance that create the follower and the leader, the Master and the pupil, the liberated and the unenlightened. The questioner asks if a Master or a saint is not a source of inspiration. When you draw inspiration from another it is only a distraction, hence uncreative and illusory. Inspiration is sought in many ways but invariably it breeds dependence and fear. Fear prevents understanding, it puts an end to communion, it is a living death. Is not the creative being of Reality the norm? You look to others for hope and guidance because you are empty and poor; you turn to books, to pictures, to teachers, to gurus, to saviours to inspire and strengthen you, you are ever in hunger, ever seeking but never finding. In the creative being of Reality alone is there the cessation of conflict and sorrow. But separation and inequality will be maintained as long as there is a becoming; as long as the pupil craves to become a Master. This craving to become is born of ignorance for the present is the Eternal. Only in the aloneness of Reality is there completeness; in that flame of creative being there is no other but the One. Through right means only can Reality be discovered for the means is the end; the means and the end are inseparable; through self-awareness and self-knowledge there is the flame of Reality. It does not lie through another but through your own awakened thought. None can lead you to it; none can deliver you from your own sorrow. The authority of another is blinding; only in utter freedom is the Supreme to be found. Let us live in time timelessly. Questioner: Do you believe in progress? Krishnamurti: There is the movement of so-called progression, is there not, from the simple to the complex? There is the process of constant adjustment to environment which brings about modification or change, taking on new forms. There is constant interaction between the outer and the inner, each aiding in modifying and transforming the other. This does not demand belief; we can observe society becoming more and more complex, more and more efficiently organized to survive, to exploit, to oppress and to kill. Existence which was simple and primitive has become very complex, highly organized and civilized. We have "progressed; we have radios, movies, quick means of transportation and all the rest of it. We can kill, instead of a few, thousands upon thousands in a moment; we can wipe out, as the phrase goes, whole cities and their people in a few burning seconds. We are well aware of all this and some call it progress; bigger and better houses, more luxury,more amusements, more distractions. Can this be considered progress? Is the expansion of sensate desire progress? Or does progress lie in compassion? We mean by progress also, do we not, the constant expanding of desire, of the self? Now in this process of expansion and becoming can there ever be an end to conflict and sorrow? If not, what is the purpose of becoming? If it is for the continuation of struggle and pain, of what value is progress, the evolution of desire, the expansion of the self? If in the expansion of desire there is the cessation of sorrow then becoming could have significance, but is it not the very nature of craving to create and continue conflict and sorrow? The self, the I, this bundle of memories, is the result of the past, the product of time, and will this self, however much it may evolve, experience the Timeless? Can the I, becoming greater, nobler through time, experience the Real? Can the I, the accumulated memory, know freedom? Can the self which is craving, and so the cause of ignorance and conflict, know enlightenment? Only in freedom can there be enlightenment, not in the bondage and pain of craving. As long as the I thinks of itself as gaining and losing, becoming and not becoming, thought is time-bound. Thought held in the bondage of yesterday, of time, can never experience the Timeless. We think in terms of yesterday, today and tomorrow; I was, I am and I will become. We think-feel in terms of accumulation; we are constantly creating and maintaining the idea of time, of continual becoming. Is not being wholly different from becoming? We can only be when we understand the process and significance of becoming. If we would deeply understand we must be silent, must we not? The very greatness of a problem calls for silence as does beauty. But, you will be asking, how am I to become silent, how am I to stop this incessant chattering of the mind? There is no becoming silent; there is or there is not silence. If you are aware of the immensity of being then there is silence; its very intensity brings tranquillity. Character can be modified, changed, made harmonious, but character is not Reality. Thought must transcend itself to comprehend the Timeless. When we think of progress, growth, are we not thinking-feeling within the pattern of time? There is a becoming, modifying or changing in the horizontal process; this becoming knows pain and sorrow but will this lead to Reality? It cannot for becoming is ever time-binding. It is only when thought frees itself from becoming, liberates itself from the past through diligent self-awareness, is utterly tranquil, that there is the Timeless. This tranquillity of understanding is not produced by an act of will for will is still a part of becoming, of craving. Mind-heart can be tranquil only when the storm and the conflict of craving have ceased. As a lake is calm when the winds stop, so the mind is tranquil in wisdom when it understands and transcends its own craving and distraction. This craving is to be understood as it is disclosed in every day thought-feeling-action; through constant self-awareness are the ways of craving, self-becoming, understood and transcended. Do not depend on time but be arduous in the search of self-knowledge. Questioner: In answering the question of how to solve a psychological problem lastingly, you spoke about the three consecutive phases in the process of solving such a problem, the first one being the consideration of its cause and effect; secondly, the understanding of that particular problem as part of the dualistic conflict; and then the discovery that the thinker and the thought are one. It seems to me that the first and second steps are comparatively easy, while the third level cannot be attained in a similar simple, logical progression. Krishnamurti: I wonder if you have observed for yourself the three phases I suggested in trying to solve a psychological problem? Most of us can be aware of the cause and effect of a problem and also be aware of its dualistic conflict, but the questioner feels that the last step, the discovery that the thinker and the thought are one, is not so easy nor can it be understood logically. These three states or steps I suggested only for the convenience of verbal communication; they flow from one to the other; they are not fixed within a framework of different levels. It is really important to understand they are not different stages, one superior to the other; they hang on the same thread of understanding. There is an interrelationship between cause and effect and the dualistic conflict and the discovery that the thinker and his thought are one. Cause and effect are inseparable; in the cause is the effect. To be aware of the cause-effect of a problem needs certain swift pliability of mind-heart for the cause-effect is constantly being modified, undergoing continual change. What once was cause-effect may have become modified now and to be aware of this modification or change is surely necessary for true understanding. To follow the ever changing cause-effect is strenuous for the mind clings and takes shelter in what was the cause-effect; it holds to conclusions and so conditions itself to the past. There must be an awareness of this cause-effect conditioning; it is not static but the mind is when it holds fast to a cause-effect that is immediately past. Karma is this bondage to cause-effect. As thought itself is the result of my causeseffects it must extricate itself from its own bondages. The problem of cause-effect is not to be superficially observed and passed by. It is the continuous chain of conditioning memory that must be observed and understood; to be aware of this chain being created and to follow it though all the layers of consciousness is arduous; yet it must be deeply searched out and understood. So long as the thinker is concerned with his thought there must be dualism; as long as he struggles with his thoughts dualistic conflict will continue. Is there a solution for a problem in the conflict of opposites? Is not the maker of the problem more important than the problem itself? Thought can go above and beyond its dualistic conflict only when the thinker is not separate from his thought. If the thinker is acting upon his thought he will maintain himself apart and so ever be the cause of opposing conflict. In the conflict of dualism there is no answer to any problem for in that state the thinker is ever separate from his thought. Craving remains and yet the object of craving is constantly being changed; what is important is to understand craving itself, not the object of craving. Is the thinker different from his thought? Are they not a joint phenomenon? Why does the thinker separate himself from his thought? Is it not for his own continuity? He is ever seeking security, permanency, and as thoughts are impermanent the thinker thinks of himself as the permanent. The thinker hides behind his thoughts and without transforming himself tries to change the frame of his thought. He conceals himself behind the activity of his thoughts to safeguard himself. He is ever the observer manipulating the observed, but he is the problem and not his thoughts. It is one of the subtle ways of the thinker to be troubled about his thoughts and thereby avoid his own transformation. If the thinker separates his thought from himself and tries to modify it without radically transforming himself conflict and delusion inevitably will follow. There is no way out of this conflict and illusion save through the transformation of the thinker himself. This complete integration of the thinker with his thought is not on the verbal level but is a profound experience which comes only when cause-effect is understood and the thinker is no longer caught in dualistic opposition. Through self-knowledge and right meditation the integration of the thinker with his thought takes place and then only can the thinker go above and beyond himself. Then only the thinker ceases to be. In right meditation the concentrator is the concentration; as generally practised the thinker is the concentrator, concentrating upon something or becoming something. In right meditation the thinker is not separate from his thought. On rare occasions we experience this integration in which the thinker has wholly ceased; then only is there creation, eternal being. Till the thinker is silent he is the maker of problems, of conflict and sorrow. OJAI 9TH PUBLIC TALK 1945 The desire to be secure in things and in relationship only brings about conflict and sorrow, dependence and fear; the search for happiness in relationship without understanding the cause of conflict leads to misery. When thought lays emphasis on sensate value and is dominated by it there can be only strife and pain. Without self-knowledge relationship becomes a source of struggle and antagonism, a device for covering up inward insufficiency, inward poverty. Does not craving for security in any form indicate inward insufficiency? Does not this inner poverty make us seek, accept and cling to formulations, hopes, dogmas, beliefs, possessions; is not our action then merely imitative and compulsive? So anchored to ideology, belief, our thinking becomes merely a process of enchainment. Our thought is conditioned by the past; the I, the me and the mine, is the result of stored up experience, ever incomplete. The memory of the past is always absorbing the present; the self which is memory of pleasure and pain is ever gathering and discarding, ever forging anew the chains of its own conditioning. It is building and destroying but always within its own self-created prison. To the pleasant memory it clings and the unpleasant it discards. Thought must transcend this conditioning for the being of the Real. Is evaluating right thinking? Choice is conditioned thinking; right thinking comes through understanding the chooser, the censor. As long as thought is anchored in belief, in ideology, it can only function within its own limitation; it can only feel-act within the boundaries of its own prejudices; it can only experience according to its own memories which give continuity to the self and its bondage. Conditioned thought prevents right thinking which is non-evaluation, non-identification. There must be alert self-observation without choice; choice is evaluation and evaluation strengthens the self-identifying memory. If we wish to understand deeply there must be passive and choiceless awareness which allows experience to unfold itself and reveal its own significance. The mind that seeks security through the Real creates only illusion. The Real is not a refuge; it is not the reward for righteous action; it is not an end to be gained. Questioner: Should we not doubt your experience and what you say? Though certain religions condemn doubt as a fetter is it not, as you have expressed it, a precious ointment a necessity? Krishnamurti: Is it not important to find out why doubt ever arises at all? What is the cause of doubt? Does it not arise when there is the following of another? So the problem is not doubt but the cause of acceptance. Why do we accept, why do we follow? We follow another's authority, another's experience and then doubt it; this search for authority and its sequel, disillusionment, is a painful process for most of us. We blame or criticize the once accepted authority, the leader, the teacher, but we do not examine our own craving for an authority who can direct our conduct. Once we understand this craving we shall comprehend the significance of doubt. Is there not in us a deep rooted tendency to seek direction, to accept authority? Wherefrom does this urge in us come? Does it not arise from our own uncertainty, from our own incapacity to know what is true at all times? We want another to chart for us the sea of self-knowledge; we desire to be secure, we desire to find a safe refuge and so we follow anyone who will direct us. Uncertainty and fear seek guidance and compel obedience and worship of authority; tradition, education create for us many patterns of obedience. If sometimes we do not accept and obey symbols of outward authority we create our own inner authority, the subtle voice of our self. But through obedience freedom cannot be known; freedom comes with understanding, not through acceptance of authority nor through imitation. The desire for self-expansion creates obedience and acceptance which in turn give rise to doubt. We conform and obey for we crave self-expansion and thus we become thoughtless. Acceptance leads to thoughtlessness and doubt. Experience, especially that called religious, gives us great joy and we use it as a guide, a reference; but when that experience ceases to sustain and inspire us we begin to doubt it. Doubt arises only when we accept. But is it not foolish, thoughtless to accept an experience of another? It is you who must think-out, feel-out and be vulnerable to the Real, but you cannot be open if you cover yourself with the cloak of authority, whether that of another or of your own creation. It is far more essential to understand the craving for authority, for direction, than to praise or dispel doubt. In comprehending the craving for direction doubt ceases. Doubt has no place in creative being. He who clings to the past, to memory, is ever in conflict. Doubt does not put an end to conflict; only when craving is understood can there be the bliss of the Real. Beware of the man who says he knows. Questioner: I want to understand myself, I want to put an end to my stupid struggles and make a definite effort to live fully and truly. Krishnamurti: What do you mean when you use the term myself? As you are many and ever changing is there an enduring moment when you can say that this is the ever me? It is the multiple entity, the bundle of memories that must be understood and not seemingly the one entity that calls itself the me. We are everchanging contradictory thoughts-feelings: love and hate, peace and passion, intelligence and ignorance. Now which is the me in all of this? Shall I choose what is most pleasing and discard the rest? Who is it that must understand these contradictory and conflicting selves? Is there a permanent self, a spiritual entity apart from these? Is not that self also the continuing result of the conflict of many entities? Is there a self that is above and beyond all contradictory selves? The truth of it can be experienced only when the contradictory selves are understood and transcended. All the conflicting entities which make up the me have also brought into being the other me, the observer, the analyser. To understand myself I must understand the many parts of myself including the I who has become the watcher, the I who understands. The thinker must not only understand his many contradictory thoughts but he must understand himself as the creator of these many entities. The I, the thinker, the observer watches his opposing and conflicting thoughts-feelings as though he were not part of them, as though he were above and beyond them, controlling, guiding, shaping. But is not the I, the thinker, also these conflicts? Has he not created them? Whatever the level, is the thinker separate from his thoughts? The thinker is the creator of opposing urges, assuming different roles at different times according to his pleasure and pain. To comprehend himself the thinker must come upon himself through his many aspects. A tree is not just the flower and the fruit but is the total process. Similarly to understand myself I must without identification and choice be aware of the total process that is the me. How can there be understanding when one part is used as a means of comprehending the other? Is it possible to understand one contradiction by another? There is understanding only when contradiction as a whole ceases, when thought is not identifying itself with the part. So it is important to understand the desire to condemn or approve, to justify or compare for it is this desire that prevents the full comprehension of the whole being. Who is the judge, who is the entity that is comparing, analysing? Is he not an aspect only of the total process, an aspect of the self that is ever maintaining conflict? Conflict is not dissolved by introducing another entity who may represent condemnation, justification or love. In freedom alone can there be understanding but freedom is denied when the observer through identification condemns or justifies. Only in understanding the process as a whole can right thinking open the door to the Eternal. Questioner: As you are so much against authority are there any unmistakable signs by which the liberation of another can be objectively recognized, apart from the personal affirmation of the individual regarding his own attainment? Krishnamurti: It is again the problem of acceptance differently stated, is it not? Suppose one does assert that one is liberated, of what great significance is it to another? Suppose you are free from sorrow, of what importance is it to another? It becomes significant only if one seeks to free oneself from ignorance, for it is ignorance that causes sorrow. So the primary point is not who has attained but how to free thought from its self-enchaining sorrow. Most of us are not concerned with this essential issue but rather with outward signs by which we may recognize one who is liberated in order that he may heal our sorrows. We desire gain rather than understanding; our craving for guidance, for comfort, makes us accept authority and so we are ever seeking the expert. You are the cause of your sorrow and you alone can understand and transcend it, none can give you deliverance from ignorance save yourself. It is not important who has attained but it is important to be aware of your attitude and how you listen to what is being said. We listen with hope and fear; we seek the light of another but are not alertly passive to be able to understand. If the liberated seems to fulfil our desires we accept him; if not, we continue our search for the one who will; what most of us desire is gratification at different levels. What is important is not how to recognize one who is liberated but how to understand yourself. No authority here or hereafter can give you knowledge of yourself; without self-knowledge there is no liberation from ignorance, from sorrow. You are the creator of misery as you are the creator of ignorance and authority; you bring the leader into being and follow him; your craving fashions the pattern of your religious and worldly life so it is essential to understand yourself and so transform the way of your life. Be aware of why you follow another, why you search out authority, why you crave direction in conduct; be aware of the ways of craving. The mind-heart has become insensitive through fear and gratification of authority but through deep awareness of thought-feeling comes the quickening of life. Through choiceless awareness the total process of your being is understood; through passive awareness comes enlightenment. Questioner: Though you have answered several questions on meditation I find that you have not said anything about group meditation. Should one meditate with others or alone? Krishnamurti: What is meditation? Is it not the understanding of the ways of the self, is it not self-knowledge? Without self-knowledge, without awareness of the total process that which you build into character, that which you strive for, has no reality. Self-knowledge is the very beginning of true meditation. Now will you understand yourself through being alone or with many? The many can be a hindrance to meditation as can also the being alone. The very weight of ignorance of the many who do not understand themselves can overpower one who is attempting to understand himself through meditation. The group can stimulate one but is stimulation meditation? Dependence on the group creates conformity; congregational worship or prayer is susceptible to suggestion, to influence, to thoughtlessness. To meditate in isolation can also create hindrances and strengthen one's prejudices and conformities. If there is no pliability, eager awareness, mere living alone strengthens one's tendencies and idiosyncrasies, hardens the habits and deepens the grooves of thought-feeling. Without understanding the significance of meditation, meditating alone can become a self-enclosing process, the narrowing of mind-heart in self-delusion and the strengthening of So whether you meditate with a group or by yourself will have little meaning if the significance of meditation is not rightly understood. Meditation is not concentration, it is the creative process of self-discovery and understanding; meditation is not a process of self-becoming; beginning with self-knowledge it brings tranquillity and supreme wisdom, it opens the door to the Eternal. The purpose of meditation is to be aware of the total process of the self. The self is the result of the past and does not exist in isolation; it is made up. The many causes that have brought it into being must be understood and transcended; only through deep awareness and meditation can there be liberation from craving, from self. Then only is there true aloneness. But when you meditate by yourself you are not alone for you are the result of innumerable influences, of conflicting forces. You are a result, a product, and that which is made up, selected, put together, cannot understand that which is not. When the thinker and his thought are one, having gone above and beyond all formulation, there is that tranquillity in which alone is the Real. To meditate is to penetrate the many conditioned, educated layers of consciousness. Since we are self-enclosed, in conflict and pain, it is essential to be keenly aware for through self-knowledge thought-feeling frees itself from its own self-created impediments of ill will and ignorance, worldliness and craving. It is this meditative understanding that is creative; this understanding brings about not withdrawal, not exclusion, but spontaneous solitude. The more we are meditatively aware during the so-called waking hours the less there are dreams, and less is the anxious fear of their interpretation; for if there is self-awareness during waking hours the different layers of consciousness are being uncovered and understood and in sleep there is the continuation of awareness. Meditation is not for a set period only but is to be continued during the waking hours and hours of sleep as well. In sleep, because of right meditative awareness during waking hours, thought can penetrate depths that have great significance. Even in sleep meditation continues. Meditation is not a practice; it is not the cultivation of habit; meditation is heightened awareness. Mere practice dulls the mind. heart for habit denotes thoughtlessness and causes insensitivity. Right meditation is a liberative process, a creative self-discover which frees thought-feeling from bondage. In freedom alone is there the Real. Questioner: In discussing the problem of illness you introduced the concept of psychological tension. If I remember correctly you stated that the non-use or abuse of psychological tension is the ca use of illness. Modern psychology on the other hand mostly stresses relaxation, release from nervous tension and so forth. What do you think? Krishnamurti: Must we not be strenuous if we would understand? As you are listening to this talk is there not attention, a tension? Is not all awareness an intensity of right tension? Awareness is necessary for comprehension; a strenuous attention is needed if we would grasp the full significance of a problem. Relaxation is necessary, sometimes beneficial; but is not awareness, right tension, necessary for deep understanding? Must not the strings of a violin be tuned or stretched to produce the right tone? If they are stretched too much they break and if they are not stretched or tuned just rightly they do not give the correct tone. Likewise we break down when our nerves are strained too much; tension beyond endurance causes various forms of mental and physical disorders. But is not awareness, the widening and stretching of the mind-heart, necessary for understanding? Is understanding the result of relaxation, inattention, or does it come with awareness in which there is not that tension caused by the desire to grasp, to gain? Is not alert stillness necessary for deep understanding? Tension can either mend or mar. In all relationship is there not tension? This tension becomes harmful when relationship becomes an escape from one's own insufficiency, a self-protective shelter from painful self-discovery. Tension becomes harmful when relationship hardens and is no longer a self-revealing process. Most of us use relationship for self-gratification, self-aggrandizement, but when it fails us a harmful tension is created which leads to frustration, jealously, delusion and conflict. As long as the craving of the self continues there will be the harmful psychological tension of inner insufficiency that causes varieties of delusion and misery. But to understand emptiness, aching loneliness, there must be right awareness, right tension. The tension of greed, fear, ambition, hate, is destructive, is productive of psychological and physical ailments, and to transcend that tension there must be choiceless awareness. Craving which expresses itself in many ways, in the material and so-called spiritual world, is the cause of conflict in all the different layers of consciousness. The tension of becoming is endless conflict and pain. In being aware of craving and so understanding it thought liberates itself from ignorance and sorrow. OJAI 10TH PUBLIC TALK 1945 Is there an enduring state of creative tranquillity? Is there an end to the seemingly endless struggle of the opposites? Is there an imperishable ecstasy? The end to conflict and sorrow is through understanding and transcending the ways of the self and in discovering that imperishable Reality which is not the creation of the mind. Self-knowledge is arduous but without it ignorance and pain continue; without self-knowledge there can be no end to strife. The world is splintered into many fragments, each in contention with the other; it is torn apart by antagonism, greed and passion; it is broken up by warring ideologies, beliefs and fears; neither organized religion nor politics can bring peace to man. Man is against man and the many explanations of his sorrow do not take away his pain. We have tried to escape from ourselves in many cunning ways but escape only dulls and hardens the mind and heart. The outer world is but an expression of our own inner state; as we are inwardly broken up and torn by burning desires, so is the world about us; as there is incessant turmoil within us so is there endless conflict in the world; as there is no inward tranquillity the world has become a battlefield. What we are the world is. Is there a possibility of finding enduring joy? There is, but to experience it there must be freedom. Without freedom truth cannot be discovered, without freedom there can be no experience of the Real. Freedom must be sought out; freedom from saviours, teachers, leaders; freedom from the self-enclosing walls of good and bad; freedom from authority and imitation; freedom from self, the cause of conflict and pain. Just as long as craving in its different forms is not understood there will be conflict and pain. Conflict is not to be ended through superficial restatement of values nor by change of teachers and leaders. The ultimate solution lies in freedom from craving; not in another but in yourself is the way. The incessant battle within us all which we call existence cannot be brought to an end save through understanding and so transcending craving. The conflict of acquisitiveness appears in knowledge, in relationship, in possessions; acquisitiveness in any form creates inequality and brutality. This division and conflict between man and man is not to be abolished through mere reform of the outer effects and values. Equality in possessions is not the way out of our extended and enveloping misery and stupidity; no revolution can free man from this spirit of exclusiveness. You may dislodge him from possessions through legislation, through revolution, but he will cling to exclusive relationship or belief. This spirit of exclusiveness at different levels cannot be abolished through any outward reform or through compulsion or regimentation. Yet it is this spirit of exclusiveness that breeds inequality and contention. Does not acquisitiveness set man against man? Can equality and compassion be established through any means of the mind? Must not they be sought elsewhere; does not this separativeness cease only in Love, in Truth? The unity of man is to be found only in Love, in the illumination that Truth brings. This oneness of man is not to be established through mere economic and social readjustment. The world is ever occupied with this superficial adjustment; it is ever trying to rearrange values within the pattern of acquisitiveness; it tries to establish security on the insecurity of craving and so brings disaster upon itself. We hope that outward revolution, outward change of values will transform man; they do affect him but acquisitiveness, finding gratification at other levels continues. This endless and purposeless movement of acquisitiveness cannot at any time bring peace to man, and only when he is free of it can there be creative being. Acquisitiveness creates division of those ahead and those behind. You must be both pupil and Master in search of Truth; you must make the approach directly without the conflict of example and following. There must be persistent self-awareness, and the more earnest and strenuous you are the more thought will free itself from its own self-created bondages. In the bliss of the Real the experiencer and the experience cease. A mind-heart that is burdened with the memory of yesterday cannot live in the eternal present. Mind-heart must die each day for eternal being. Questioner: I feel that at least to me what you are saying is something new and very vitalizing but the old intrudes and distorts. It seems that the new is overpowered by the past. What is one to do? Krishnamurti: Thought is the result of the past acting in the present; the past is constantly sweeping over the present. The present, the new, is ever being absorbed by the past, by the known. To live in the eternal present there must be death to the past, to memory; in this death there is timeless renewal. The present extends into the past and into the future; without the understanding of the present the door to the past is closed. The perception of the new is so fleeting; no sooner is it felt than the swift current of the past sweeps over it and the new ceases to be. To die to the many yesterdays, to renew each day is only possible if we are capable of being passively aware. In this passive awareness there is no gathering to oneself; in it there is intense stillness in which the new is ever unfolding, in which silence is ever extending with measure. We try to use the new as a means of breaking down or strengthening the past and so corrupt the living present. The renewing present brings comprehension of the past. It is the new that gives understanding and in that light the past has a fresh, life-giving significance. When we listen to or experience something new our instinctive response is to compare it with the old, with a past experience, with a fading memory. This comparing gives strength to the past, distorting the present and so the new is ever becoming the past, the dead. If thought-feeling were capable of living in the now without distorting it then the past would be transformed into the eternal present. To some of you these talks and discussions may have brought a new and vitalizing understanding; what is important is not to put the new into old patterns of thought or phrase. Let it remain new, uncontaminated. If it is true it will cast out the old, the past by its, very abundant and creative light. The desire to make the creative present enduring, practical or useful makes it worthless. Let the new live without anchorage in the past, without the distorting influence of fears and hopes. Die to your experience, to your memory. Die to your prejudice, pleasant or unpleasant. As you die there is the incorruptible; this is not a state of nothingness but of creative being. It is this renewal that will, if allowed, dissolve our problems and sorrows however intricate and painful. Only in death of the self is there life. Questioner: Do you believe in karma? Krishnamurti: The desire to believe should be understood and put away for it does not bring enlightenment. He who is seeking Truth does not believe; he who is approaching Truth has no dogma or creed; he who is seeking the Timeless must be free of formulation and the time-binding quality of memory. When we believe we do not seek and belief brings doubt and pain. Search to understand, not to know; for in understanding, the dual process of the knower and the known ceases. In the mere search for knowledge the knower is ever becoming and so is ever in conflict and sorrow. He who asserts he knows does not know. The root of the Sanskrit word karma means to act to do Action is the result of a cause. War is the result of our everyday life of stupidity and ill will and greed; conflict and sorrow are the outcome of the inward turmoil of our craving. Is not our existence the product of enchaining conditioning? Cause is ever undergoing a modification and alert awareness is necessary to follow and understand it. Silent and choiceless awareness not only reveals the cause but also frees thought-feeling from it. Can effect be separated from cause? Is not effect ever present in the cause? We desire to reform, to rearrange the effects without radically altering the cause. This occupation with effect is a form of escape from the basic cause. As the end is in the means, so the effect is in the cause. It is comparatively easy to discover the superficial cause but to discover and transcend craving, which is the deep cause of all conditioning, is arduous and demands constant awareness. Questioner: Not only is there the fear of life but great is the fear of death. How am I to conquer it? Krishnamurti: What is conquerable has to be conquered again and again. Fear comes to an end only through understanding. Fear of death is in the craving for self-fulfilment; we are empty and we crave completeness, so there is fear; we desire to achieve and so we are afraid lest death should call us. We desire time for understanding, the fulfillment of ambition needs time, and so we are afraid of death. We are in the bondage of time; death is the unknown and of the unknown we are afraid. Fear and death are the companions of life. We crave the assurance of self-continuity. Thought-feeling is moving from the known to the known and is always afraid of the unknown. Thought-feeling proceeds from accumulation to accumulation, from memory to memory, and the fear of death is the fear of frustration. Because we are as the dead we fear death; the living do not. The dead are burdened by the past, by memory, by time, but for the living the present is the eternal. Time is not a means to the end, the Timeless, for the end is in the beginning. The self weaves the net of time and thought is caught in it. The insufficiency of the self, its aching emptiness, causes the fear of death and of life. This fear is with us always: in our activities, our pleasures and pain. Being dead we seek life but life is not found through the continuity of the self. The self, the maker of time, must yield itself to the Timeless. If death is truly a great problem for you, not merely a verbal or emotional issue nor a matter of curiosity which can be appeased by explanations, then in you there is deep silence. In active stillness fear ceases; silence has its own creative quickening. You do not transcend fear through rationalization, through the study of explanations; the fear of death does not come to an end through some belief for belief is still within the net of the self. The very noise of the self prevents its own dissolution. We consult, analyze, pray, exchange explanations; this incessant activity and noise of the self hinders the bliss of the Real. Noise can produce only more noise and in it there is no understanding. Understanding comes when your whole being is deeply and silently aware. Silent awareness is not to be compelled or induced; in this tranquillity death yields to creation. Questioner: It has never occurred to me myself as being able to attain liberation. The ultimate I can conceive of is that perhaps I might be able to hold and strengthen that entirely incomprehensible relation to God which is the only thing I live by. and I really do not even know what that is. You talk about being and becoming. I realize that these words mean fundamentally different attitudes and mine ha been definitely one of becoming. I now want to transform what has been becoming all along into being. Am I fooling myself? I do not #ant simply to change words. Krishnamurti: We must first understand the process of becoming and all its implications before we can comprehend what is being. Is not the structure of our thought-feeling based on time? Do we not think-feel in terms of gain and loss, of becoming and not becoming? We think Reality or God is to be reached through time, through becoming. We think that life is an endless ladder for us to climb ever to greater and greater insights. Our thinking-feeling is caught in the horizontal process of becoming; the becomer is ever accumulating, ever gaining, ever expanding. The self, the becomer, the creator of time, can never experience the Timeless. The self, the becomer, is the cause of conflict and sorrow. Does becoming lead to being? Through time can there be the Timeless? Through conflict can there be tranquillity? Through war, hate, can there be love? Only when becoming ceases is there being; through the horizontal process of time the Eternal is not; conflict does not lead to tranquillity; hate cannot be changed to love. The becomer can never be tranquil. Craving can never lead to that which is beyond and above all craving. The chain of sorrow is broken only when the becomer ceases to become, positively or negative Now the becomer desires to translate his becoming into being. He sees perhaps the futility of becoming and desires to transform that process into being; instead of becoming, now he must be. He sees the pain of greed and now he desires to transform greed into non-greed which is still a becoming; he has assumed a new attitude, a new garb called non-greed; but still the becomer continues to become. Does not this desire to translate the becoming into being lead to illusion? The becomer perhaps now perceives the endless conflict and sorrow involved in becoming and so craves a different state which he calls being; but craving continues under a new name. The ways of becoming are very subtle and till the becomer is aware of them he will continue to become, to be in conflict and sorrow. By changing terms we think we understand and how easily we pacify ourselves ! Being is only when there is no effort, positive or negative, to become; only when the becomer is self-aware and understands the enchaining sorrow and wasted effort of becoming and no longer uses will, then only can he be silent. His desire and his will have subsided; then only is there the tranquillity of supreme wisdom. To become non-greedy is one thing and being without greed is another; to become implies a process but being does not. Process implies time; the state of being is not a result, not a product of education, discipline, conditioning. You cannot transform noise into silence; silence can only come into being when noise ceases. Result is a time process, a determined end through a determined means; but through a process, through time, the Timeless is not. Self-awareness and right meditation will reveal the process of becoming. Meditation is not the cultivation of the becomer but through self-knowledge the meditator, the becomer ceases. Questioner: If we only consider the obvious meaning of your words, memory constitutes one of the mechanisms against which you have warned time and again. And yet you yourself, for instance, sometimes use written notes to aid your memory in reconstructing the introductory remarks which you obviously have thought out previously. Does there exist one necessary and even indispensable kind of memory related to the outside world of facts and figures, and an entirely different kind of memory which might be called psychological memory, which is detrimental because it interferes with the creative attitude which you have hinted at in expressions like "lying fallow" - "dying each day" etc? Krishnamurti: Memory is accumulated experience and what is accumulated is the known and what is know is ever the past. With the burden of the known can that which is Timeless be discovered? Is not freedom from the past necessary to experience that which is Immeasurable? That which is made up, that is, memory, cannot comprehend that which is not. Wisdom is not accumulated memory but is supreme vulnerability to the Real. Should we not, as the questioner points out, be aware of the two kinds of memories: the indispensable, relating to facts and figures, and the psychological memory? Without this indispensable memory we could not communicate with each other. We accumulate and cling to psychological memories and so give continuity to the self; thus the self, the past, is ever increasing, ever adding to itself. It is this accumulating memory, the self, that must come to an end; as long as thought-feeling is identifying itself with the memories of yesterday it will be ever in conflict and sorrow; as long as thought-feeling is ever becoming it cannot experience the bliss of the Real. That which is Real is not the continuation of identifying memory. According to what has been stored up one experiences; according to one's conditioning and psychological memories and tendencies are the experiences, but such experiences are ever enclosing, limiting. It is to this accumulation that one must die. Is the experience of the Real based on memory, on accumulation? Is it not possible for thought-feeling to go above and beyond these interrelated layers of memory? Continuance is memory and is it possible for this memory to cease and a new state come into being? Can the educated and conditioned consciousness comprehend that which is not a result? It cannot and so it must die to itself. Psychological memory, ever striving to become, is creating results, barriers, and so is ever enslaving itself. It is to this becoming that thought-feeling must die; only through constant self-awareness does this self-identifying memory come to an end; it cannot come to an end through an act of will for will is craving and craving is the accumulation of identifying memory. Truth is not to be formulated nor can it be discovered through any formulation or any belief; only when there is freedom from becoming, from self-identifying memory, does it come into being. Our thought is the result of the past and without understanding its conditioning it cannot go beyond itself. Thought-feeling become a slave to its own creation, to its own power of illusion if it is unaware of its own ways. Only when thought ceases to formulate can there be creation. Questioner: Do not the images of saints, Masters, help us to meditate rightly? Krishnamurti: If you would go north why look towards the south? If you would be free why become slaves? Must you know sobriety through drunkenness? Must you have tyranny to know freedom? As meditation is of the highest importance we ought to approach it rightly from the very beginning. Right means create right ends; the end is in the means. Wrong means produce wrong ends and at no time will wrong means bring about right ends. By killing another will you bring about tolerance and compassion? Only right meditation can bring about right understanding. It is essential for the meditator to understand himself, not the objects of his meditation, for the meditator and his meditation are one, not separate. Without understanding oneself meditation becomes a process of self-hypnosis inducing experiences according to one's conditioning, one's belief. The dreamer must understand himself, not his dreams; he must awaken and put an end to them. If the meditator is seeking an end, a result, then he will hypnotize himself by his desire. Meditation is often a self-hypnotic process; it may produce certain desired results but such meditation does not bring enlightenment. The questioner wants to know if examples help one to meditate rightly. They may help to concentrate, to focus attention, but such concentration is not meditation. Mere concentration though troublesome is comparatively easy, but what then? The concentrator is still what he is, only he has acquired a new faculty, a new means through which he can function, enjoy and do harm. Of what value is concentration if he who concentrates is lustful, worldly and stupid? He will still do harm; he will still create enmity and confusion. Mere concentration narrows the mind-heart which only strengthens its conditioning, thus causing credulity and obstinacy. Before you learn to concentrate, understand the structure of your whole being, not just one part of it. With self-awareness there comes self-knowledge, right thinking. This self-awareness or understanding creates its own discipline and concentration; such pliable discipline is enduring, effective, not the self-imposed discipline of greed and envy. Understanding ever widens and deepens into extensional awareness; this awareness is essential for right meditation. Meditation of the heart is understanding. We use examples as a means of inspiration. Why do we seek inspiration? As our lives are empty, dull and mechanical we seek inspiration outside of ourselves. The Master, the saint, the saviour then becomes a necessity, a necessity which enslaves us. Being enslaved you then have to free yourself from your enchainment to discover the Real, for the Real can only be experienced in freedom. Because you are not interested in self-knowledge you seek from others inspiration which is another form of distraction. Self-knowledge is a process of creative discovery which is hindered when thought-feeling is concerned with gain. Greed for a result prevents the flowering of self-knowledge. Search itself is devotion, it is in itself inspiration. A mind that is identifying, comparing, judging, soon wearies and needs distraction, so-called inspiration. All distraction, noble or otherwise, is idolatrous. But if the meditator begins to understand himself then his meditation has great significance. Through self-awareness and self-knowledge there comes right thinking; only then can thought go above and beyond the conditioned layers of consciousness. Meditation then is being, which has its own eternal movement; it is creation itself for the meditator has ceased to be. OJAI 1ST PUBLIC TALK 1946 Though this is not a small group we will try to have a free and serious discussion instead of turning these gatherings into question and answer meetings. Some no doubt would prefer uninterrupted talks but it seems to me to be more advantageous for all of us to join in a purposeful discussion which requires earnestness and sustained interest. For what are we striving? What is it that each one is seeking? Till we are aware of our separate pursuits it is not possible to establish right relationship between us. One might be seeking fulfillment and success, another wealth and power, another fame and popularity; some may wish to accumulate and some to renounce; there might be some who are earnestly seeking to dissolve the ego while others may wish merely to talk about it. Is it not important for us to find out what it is we are seeking? To extricate ourselves from the confusion and misery in and about us we must be aware of our instinctive and cultivated desires and tendencies. We think and feel in terms of achievement, of gain and loss, and so there is constant strife; but there is a way of living, a state of being, in which conflict and sorrow have no place. So to make these discussions fruitful it is necessary, is it not, first to understand our own intentions? When we observe what is taking place in our lives and in the world we perceive that most of us, in subtle or crude ways, are occupied with the expansion of the self. We crave self-expansion now or in the future; for us life is a process of the continuous expansion of the ego through power, wealth, asceticism or the cultivation of virtue and so on. Not only for the individual but for the group, for the nation this process signifies fulfilling, becoming, growing and has ever led to great disasters and miseries. We are ever striving within the framework of the self, however much it may be enlarged and glorified. If this be your aim and mine wholly different then we will have no relationship though we may meet; then our discussions will be purposeless and confused. So first we must be very clear in our intention. We must be clear and definite as to what we are seeking. Are we craving self-expansion, the constant nourishment of the ego, the me and the mine, or are we seeking to understand and so transcend the process of the self? Will self-expansion bring about understanding, enlightenment; or is there illumination, liberation only when the process of self-expansion has ceased? Can we reveal ourselves sufficiently to discern in which direction our interest lies? You must have come here with serious intent; therefore we will discuss in order to clarify that intent, and consider if our daily life indicates what our pursuits are and whether we are nourishing the ego or not. So these discussions can be a means of self-exposure to each one of us. In this self-exposure we will discover the true significance of life. Must we not first have freedom to discover? There can be no freedom if our action is ever enclosing. Is not the action of the ego, the sense of the me and the mine, ever a process of limitation? We are trying to find out, are we not, if the process of self-expansion leads to Reality or if Reality comes into being only when the self ceases? Questioner: Must one not go through the self-expansive process in order to realize the Immeasurable? Krishnamurti: May I put the same question differently? Must one go through drunkenness to know sobriety? Must one go through the various states of craving only to renounce them? Questioner: Can one do anything with regard to this self-expansive process? Krishnamurti: May I elaborate this question? We are, are we not, positively encouraging through many actions the expansion of the ego? Our tradition, our education, our social conditioning sustain positively the activities of the ego. This positive activity may take a negative form - not to be something. So our action is still a positive or negative activity of the self. Through centuries of tradition and education thought accepts as natural and inevitable the self-expansive life, positively or negatively. How can thought free itself from this conditioning? How can it be tranquil, silent? If there is that stillness, that is, if it is not caught in self-expansive processes, then there is Reality. Questioner: If I rightly understand, surely you are reaching way out into the abstract, are you not? You are speaking about reincarnation, I presume? Krishnamurti: I am not, sir, nor am I reaching out into the abstract. Our social and religious structure is based on the urge to become something, positively or negatively. Such a process is the very nourishment of the ego, through name, family, achievement, through identification of the me and mine which is ever causing conflict and sorrow. We perceive the results of this way of life: strife, confusion and antagonism, ever spreading, ever engulfing. How is one to transcend strife and sorrow? This is what we are attempting to understand during these discussions. Is not craving the very root of the self? How is thought which has become the means of self-expansion to act without giving sustenance to the ego, the cause of conflict and sorrow? Is this not an important question? Do not let me make it important to you. Is this not a vital question to each one? If it is, must we not find the true answer? We are nourishing the ego in many ways and before we condemn or encourage we must understand its significance, must we not? We use religion and philosophy as a means of self-expansion; our social structure is based on the aggrandizement of the self; the clerk will become the manager and later the owner, the pupil will become the Master and so on. In this process there is ever conflict, antagonism, sorrow. Is this an intelligent and inevitable process? We can discover Truth for ourselves only when we do not depend on another; no specialist can give us the right answer. Each one has to find the right answer directly for himself. For this reason it is important to be earnest. We vary in our earnestness according to circumstances, our moods and fancies. Earnestness must be independent of circumstances and moods, of persuasion and hope. We often think that perhaps through shock we shall be made earnest but dependence is never productive of earnestness. Earnestness comes into being with inquiring awareness and are we so alertly aware? If you are aware you will realize that your mind is constantly engaged in the activities of the ego and its identification; if you pursue this activity further you will find the deep seated self-interest. These thoughts of self-interest arise from the needs of daily life, things you do from moment to moment, your role in society and so on, all of which build up the structure of the ego. This seems so strangely inevitable but before we accept this inevitability must we not be aware of our purposive intention, whether we desire to nourish the ego or not? For according to our hidden intentions we will act. We know how the self is built up and strengthened through the pleasure and pain principle, through memory, through identification and so on. This process is the cause of conflict and sorrow. Do we earnestly seek to put an end to the cause of sorrow? Questioner: How do we know our intention is right before we understand the truth of the matter? If we do not first comprehend truth then we shall go off the beam, founding communities, forming groups, having half baked ideas. Is it not necessary, as you have suggested, to know oneself first? I have tried to write down my thoughts-feelings as has been suggested but I find myself blocked and unable to follow my thoughts right through. Krishnamurti: Through being choicelessly aware of your intentions the truth of the matter is known. We are often blocked because unconsciously we are afraid to take action which might lead to further trouble and suffering. But no clear and definite action can take place if we have not uncovered our deep and hidden intention with regard to nourishing and maintaining the self. Is not this fear which hinders understanding the result of projection, speculation? You imagine that freedom from self-expansion is a state of nothingness, an emptiness and this creates fear, thus preventing any actual experience. Through speculation, through imagination you prevent the discovery of what is. As the self is in constant flux we seek, through identification, permanency. Identification brings about the illusion of permanency and it is the loss of this which causes fear. We recognize that the self is in constant flux yet we cling to something which we call the permanent in the self, an enduring self which we fabricate out of the impermanent self. If we deeply experienced and understood that the self is ever impermanent then there would be no identification with any particular form of craving, with any particular country, nation or with any organized system of thought or religion, for with identification comes the horror of war, the ruthlessness of so-called civilization. Questioner: Is the fact of this constant flux not enough to make us identify? It seems to me that we cling to something called the me, the self, for it is a pleasant habit of sound. We know a river even when it is dry; similarly we cling to something that is me, even though we know its impermanency. The me is shallow or deep, in full flood or dry, but it is always the me to be encouraged, nourished, maintained at any cost. Why must the I process be eliminated? Krishnamurti: Now why do you ask this question? If the process is pleasurable you will continue in it and not ask such a question; when it is disagreeable, painful, then only will you desire to put an end to it. According to pleasure and pain thought is shaped, controlled, guided and upon such a weak, changing foundation we make an attempt to understand Truth! Whether the self should be maintained or not is a very vital issue for on it depends the whole course of our action, and so how we approach this problem is all important. On our approach depends the answer. If we are not earnest then the answer will be according to our prejudices and passing fancies. So the approach matters more than the problem itself. Upon the seeker depends what he finds; if he is prejudiced, limited, then he will find according to his conditioning. What then is important is for the seeker first to understand himself. Questioner: How do we know if there is an abstract truth? Krishnamurti: Surely, sir, we are not considering now an abstract truth. We are attempting to discover the true and lasting answer to our problem of sorrow, for on that depends the whole course of life. Questioner: Can the conditioned mind observe its conditioning? Krishnamurti: Is it not possible to be aware of our prejudices? Cannot we know when we are dishonest, when we are intolerant, when we are greedy? Questioner: Is not the nourishment of the body equally wrong? Krishnamurti: We are considering the psychological nourishment, the expansion of the self, which causes such strife and misery. One can accept the activity of the self as inevitable and follow that course or there may be another way of life. If it is an intense problem to each one of us then we shall find the right answer. Questioner: Shall we not know the true answer when the desire for it is greater than for any other thing? Questioner: Is the ego always harmful? Is selfishness ever beneficial? Krishnamurti: Self-centred attention and activity, positively or negatively, is the cause of strife and pain. How seriously is each one considering this problem? How earnest are we about discovering the truth of the nature and activity of the ego, the self? Our meditation and spiritual discipline have no meaning if first we are not clear upon this point. True meditation is not self-expansion in any form. So till we can have a common understanding of our purpose there will be confusion, and right relationship between us will not be possible. Questioner: Is there not a way straight to the problem, to find out the truth? Krishnamurti: There is, but this demands utter stillness, open receptivity. This requires right understanding; otherwise effort to be open, to be tranquil becomes another means of self-expansion. I am saying that there is a different way of life, a way that is not of self-expansion, in which there is ecstasy, but it has no validity if you merely accept my statement; such acceptance will become another form of egotistic activity. You must know for yourself, directly, the truth of yourself and you cannot realize it through another, however great. There is no authority that can reveal it. Truth can be uncovered only through your own understanding and understanding comes only through self-knowledge. We have a common problem to which we are trying to find the right answer. Questioner: Writing a book could be a self-expansive action, could it not? Questioner: Should we not establish a purpose in our lives? Krishnamurti: The ego can choose a noble purpose and so utilize it as a means for its own expansion. Questioner: If there is no self-expansion is there a purpose, as we know it now? Krishnamurti: A man who is asleep dreams that he has a purpose or must choose a purpose but does he who is awake have a purpose? He is simply awake. Our frames of reference, our purposes are a means, negatively or positively, of measuring the growth of the self. Questioner: Is fulfillment self-expansion? Krishnamurti: If fulfillment is prevented is there not the pain of frustration of the self? Questions of similar kind will find their answer in discovering the truth concerning the self-expansive process; this depends on earnestness and on the open receptivity of the mind-heart. Questioner: Must we not know what is the other way of life before we can relinquish self-aggrandizement? Krishnamurti: How can we know or be aware of another way of life till we can perceive the falseness, the futility of acquisition and self-expansion? In understanding the ways of self-aggrandizement we shall become aware. To speculate about the way becomes a hindrance to the very understanding of that life which is not one of self-perpetuation. So must we not discover the truth concerning the habitual activities of the self? It is knowledge of the hindrance that is the liberating factor, not the attempt to be free from the hindrance. Effort made to be free without the liberating action of Truth is still within the enclosing walls of the self. You can discover Truth only if you are willing to give your whole mind and heart to it, not a few moments of your easily spared time. If we are earnest we will find Truth; but this earnestness cannot depend on stimulation of any kind. We must give our full and deep attention to the discovery of the truth of our problem, not for a few grudging moments but constantly. It is Truth alone that liberates thought from its own enclosing process. OJAI 2ND PUBLIC TALK 1946 We have been saying there can be no right relationship between us if we do not understand each other's intentions. The way of self-expansion is the way of strife and sorrow and is not the way of Reality. The ecstasy of Reality is to be found through awakened, highest intelligence. Intelligence is not the cultivation of memory or reason but an awareness in which identification and choice have ceased. To think out a thought fully is difficult for it needs patience and extensional awareness. We have been educated in a way of life which furthers the self, through achievement, through identification, through organized religion; this way of thought and action has led us to fearful catastrophes and untold misery. Questioner: You have said that illumination could never come through self-expansion but does it not come through the expansion of consciousness? Krishnamurti: Illumination, understanding of the Real, can never come through the expansion of the self, through the I making an effort to grow, to become, to achieve and there is no effort apart from the will of the I. How can there be understanding if the self is ever filtering experience, identifying, accumulating memory? Consciousness is the product of the mind and the mind is the result of conditioning, of craving, and so it is the seat of the self. Only when the activity of the self, of memory, ceases is there a wholly different consciousness, about which any speculation is a hindrance. The effort to expand is still the activity of the self whose consciousness is to grow, to become. Such consciousness however expanded is time-binding and so the Timeless is not. If one desires to understand a vital problem should not one put aside one's tendencies, prejudices, fears and hopes, one's conditioning, and be aware simply and directly? In thinking over our problems together we are exposing ourselves to ourselves. This self-exposure is of great importance for it will reveal to us the process of our own thoughts-feelings. We have to dig deeply into ourselves to find truth. We are conditioned and is it possible for thought to go beyond its own limitation? It is possible only through being aware of our conditioning. We have developed a certain kind of intelligence in the process of self-expansion; through greed, through acquisitiveness, through conflict and pain we have developed a self-protective, self-expansive intelligence. Can this intelligence comprehend the Real which alone can resolve all our problems? Questioner: Is intelligence the right word to use? Krishnamurti: If we all understand the meaning of that term as I am using it here, it is applicable. The main point is, can this intelligence which has been cultivated through the expansion of the self experience or discover truth; or must there be another kind of activity, another kind of awareness to receive truth? To discover truth there must be freedom from the self-expansive intelligence for it is ever enclosing, ever limiting. Questioner: Must we not look at this problem of self-expansion from the point of view of what is true? Krishnamurti: To see the false as the false and the true as the true is difficult. If you saw the truth about self-expansion problems would begin to fade away. To see the truth in the false is to understand yourself first. It is the truth in the false that is liberating. Questioner: Do you imply that there is a greater intelligence than ours? Krishnamurti: We are not trying to discover whether there is a greater intelligence but what we are considering is whether the particular intelligence we have so sedulously cultivated can experience or understand Reality. Questioner: Is there a Reality? Krishnamurti: To discover that, there must be a tranquil mind, a mind that is not fabricating thoughts, images, hopes. As the mind is ever seeking to expand through its own creations it cannot experience Reality. If the mind, the instrument, is blurred, it is of little use in the search of truth. It must first cleanse itself and then only will it be possible to know if there is Reality. So each one must be aware, recognize the state of his intelligence. By its very limitation is not the mind a hindrance to the discovery of the Real? Before thought can free itself it first must recognize its own limitations. Questioner: Can you tell us how to go through this process without impairing ourselves? Krishnamurti: I am afraid we are talking at cross purposes and so we are getting confused. What is it that each one of us is seeking? Are we not aware of a common search? Questioner: I am trying to solve my problem. I am seeking God. I want love. I want security. Krishnamurti: Are we not all seeking to transcend conflict and sorrow? Conflict and sorrow come to us in different ways but the cause common to us all is self-expansion. The cause of conflict and sorrow is craving, the self. Through understanding and so dissolving the cause our psychological problems will come to an end. Questioner: Will the solution of the central problem end for me all problems? Krishnamurti: Only if you dissolve the cause of all problems, the self; till then each day brings new strife and pain. Questioner: My intelligence says that by solving my individual problem I can fit harmoniously into the whole. Are there different purposes for each one of us? Krishnamurti: Out of our self-contradiction and confusion have we not invented purposes according to our tendencies and desires? Are not our purposes and problems fabricated by the self? Being in sorrow we seek to be happy. If this is our chief concern, as it surely is for most of us, then we must know what the causes are that prevent us from being happy, or that make us sorrowful. Questioner: How am I to eradicate the causes? Krishnamurti: Before you put that question you must be aware of the causes of sorrow. Being in sorrow you say you are seeking happiness; so the search for happiness is an escape from sorrow. There can be happiness only when the cause of sorrow ceases; so happiness is a byproduct and not an end in itself. The cause of sorrow is the self with its craving to expand, to become, to be other than what it is; with its craving for sensation, for power, for happiness and so on. Questioner: If there were no discontent there would be no progress, there would be stagnation. Krishnamurti: You want both "progress" and happiness and that is your difficulty, is it not? You desire self-expansion but not the conflict and sorrow that inevitably come with it. We are afraid to look at ourselves as we are, we want to run away from the actual and this flight we call "progress" or the search for happiness. We say that we will decay if we do not "progress; we will become lazy, thoughtless, if we do not struggle to run away from what is. Our education and the world that we have created help us to run away; yet to be happy we must know the cause of sorrow. To know the cause of sorrow and transcend it is to face it, not to seek escape through illusory ideals or through further activities of the self. The cause of sorrow is the activity of the expanding self. Even to crave to be rid of the self is negative action of the self and hence delusive. Questioner:Could we take a positive rather than a negative point of view, saying to ourselves that we are the whole? Krishnamurti: Is not a positive or negative action of the self still the movement of the self? If the self asserts that it is the whole is not that an activity of the self seeking to enclose the whole within its own walls? We think that by constantly asserting we are the whole, we will become the whole; such repetition is self-hypnosis and to be drugged is not to be illumined. We are not yet aware of the cunning deceptions of our minds, of the subtle ways of the self. Without self-knowledge there can be no happiness, no wisdom. Questioner: I do not desire self-expansion. Krishnamurti: Can it bc so easily thought and said? The desire for self-expansion is complex and subtle. The structure of our thought is based on this expansion, to grow, to become, to fulfil. Questioner: The cause of sorrow is incompleteness. Expansion stimulates and so we crave for it. Krishnamurti: Can we not experience here and now directly for ourselves the cause of sorrow? If we can experience and understand this urge to expand, to be, then we shall go beyond the verbal state to the root of sorrow. Questioner: I want to find truth and that is one of my reasons for self-expansion. Krishnamurti: Why are you seeking truth? Do you seek it because you are unhappy and so through its discovery you hope to be happy? Truth is not compensation; it is not a reward for your suffering, for your struggles. Do you hope that it will set you free? The activity of the self is ever binding and does not lead to truth. Without self-awareness and self-knowledge how can there be the understanding of truth? We think we are seeking truth; but perhaps we are only seeking gratifying remedies, comforting answers. We verbally assert the need for brotherhood, for unity, without eradicating in ourselves the causes of conflict and antagonism. We must be aware of the cause of self-expansion and directly experience its full implications. Questioner: Self-expansion is a natural instinct and what is wrong with it? Questioner: We want to be loved and if we are frustrated we seek another form of gratification. We are continually seeking satisfaction. Krishnamurti: The seemingly natural instinct for self-expansion is the cause of discontent and pain; it is the cause of our recurrent disasters, civilized ruthlessness and mounting misery. It may be "natural" but surely it must be transcended for the Timeless to be. The craving for gratification is without end. Questioner: Why is there the urge to be superior? Questioner: I do not know why but there is in me the urge to be superior. I cannot observe it without being amused or appalled, yet I want to be superior. I know it is wrong to feel superior. It leads to misery, it is antisocial, it is immoral. Krishnamurti: You are merely condemning the desire to bc superior; you are not trying to understand it. To condemn or accept is to create resistance which hinders understanding. Do not all of us desire to be superior in some way or another? If we deny it, if we condemn it or are blind to it we shall not understand the causes that sustain this desire. Questioner: I want to be superior because I want to be loved by people for it is necessary to be loved. Krishnamurti: Being inferior there is the urge to feel superior; not being loved we desire to be loved. That is, in myself I am insignificant, empty, shallow, so I desire to put on masks for different occasions, the mask of superiority and of nobility, the mask of earnestness, the mask that asserts it is seeking God and so on. Being inwardly poor we desire to identify ourselves with the great, with the nation, with the Master, with an ideology and so on, the form of identification varying with circumstances and moods. You may pursue virtue and practice spiritual exercises but by covering up this incompleteness. in denying it consciously or unconsciously, it is not transcended. Till it is transcended all activity is of the self which is the cause of conflict and sorrow. Being inwardly insufficient we have developed the cunning art of escape; this escape we call by various pleasant sounding names. How can this process of the mind comprehend the Real? How can it comprehend something not of its own fabrication? The desire to be superior, to become the Master, to accumulate knowledge, to lose oneself in activities offers hopeful and gratifying escape from inward poverty, insufficiency. Being incomplete, empty, any activity, however noble, can only be the expansive movement of the self. Questioner: Can we not occasionally realize that we are escaping? Krishnamurti: We may, but our self-expansive urge is so cunning, subtle, that it avoids coming directly in conflict with this aching insufficiency. How to approach this problem is our difficulty, is it not? Questioner: When you are free what is the purpose of activity? Krishnamurti: How can mind that is the outcome of insufficiency and fear experience an activity which is not of the self? How can a mind that is acquisitive and fearful, bound by dogma and its limitation is only a postponement of the realization of its bondage. If I may suggest, can we try during the coming week to be aware of this bondage that has been developed by the process of self-expansion, for this limitation, this expanding self can never experience or discover the Real? OJAI 3RD PUBLIC TALK 1946 Without the experience of the Real there con never be freedom from conflict and sorrow; the Real alone can transform our life, not mere resolution. All activity of the self with its resolutions and negations must cease for the Real to be. To understand the activities of the self there must be earnest endeavour, sustained alertness and interest. Many of us hold to our beliefs or to our experiences and this only breeds obstinacy. Earnestness is not dependent on moods, on circumstances nor on stimulation. Some who are attempting to live an earnest life are strenuous along some particular groove of thought, belief or discipline and thus become intolerant and rigid. Such strenuous effort prevents deep understanding and close the door upon Reality. If you will consider this closely you will see that what is necessary is natural effortless discernment, the freedom to discover and understand. These ideas, if allowed, will take root and bring about a radical transformation of our daily life. The unforced receptivity is much more significant than the effort made to understand. Questioner: I am afraid it is not very clear. Krishnamurti: Most of us here are making an effort to understand; such effort is the activity of will which only creates resistance and resistance is not overcome by another resistance, by another act of will; such effort actually prevents understanding; whereas if we were alertly pliable and aware we would understand deeply. All effort we now make issues from the desire for self-expansion; only when there is an effortless awareness can there be discovery and understanding, a perception of the true. When we see a painting we first want to know who the painter is, we then compare and criticize it, or try to interpret it according to our conditioning. We do not really see the picture or the scenery but are only concerned with our clever capacity for interpretation, criticism or admiration; we are generally so full of ourselves that we do not really see the picture or the scenery. If we could banish our judgment and clever analysis then perhaps the picture might convey its significance. Similarly these discussions will have meaning only if we are open to the experience of discovery which is prevented by our clinging obstinately to beliefs, memories and conditioned prejudices. Questioner: Is there anything that one can do to be passively aware? Can I do anything to be open? Krishnamurti: The very desire to be open can be an effort of the self which only creates resistance. We can but be aware that we are enclosed, that the activity of will is resistance and that the very desire itself to gain passive awareness is another hindrance. To make a positive effort to be open is to throw up the barrier of greed. To be aware of the self-enclosing activities is to break them down; to be unaware and yet desire to be open is to create further resistance. Passive awareness comes only when the mind-heart is tranquil. In this stillness the Real comes into being. This stillness is not to be induced nor is it the outcome of the activity of will. An intelligence which is the product of desire, of self-expansion, is ever creating resistance and it can never bring about tranquillity. Such intelligence of self-protectiveness is the product of time, of the impermanent, and so can never experience the Timeless. Questioner: Is not this intelligence useful in other ways? Krishnamurti: Its only use is in protecting itself which has caused untold misery and pain. Questioner: From the amoeba to man the intelligence to be secure, to self-expand is inevitable and natural; it is a closed and vicious circle. Krishnamurti: That may seem so but the activity to be secure has not led man to security, to happiness, to wisdom. It has led him to ever increasing confusion, conflict and misery. There is a different activity which is not of the self, which must be sought out. A different intelligence is needed to experience the Timeless, which alone will free us from incessant strife and sorrow. The intelligence that we now possess is the result of craving gratification, security, in crude or subtle form; it is the result of greed; it is the outcome of self-identification. Such an intelligence can never experience the Real. Questioner: Do you say that intelligence and self-consciousness are synonymous? Krishnamurti: Consciousness is the outcome of identified continuity. Sensation, feeling, rationalization and the continuity of identified memory make up self-consciousness, do they not? Can we say precisely where consciousness ends and intelligence begins? They flow into each other, do they not? Is there consciousness without intelligence? Questioner: Does a new intelligence come into being if we are aware of the self-expansive intelligence? Krishnamurti: We shall know, as experience, the new form of intelligence only when the self-protective and self-expansive intelligence ceases. Questioner: How can we go beyond this limited intelligence? Krishnamurti: Through being passively aware of its complex and interrelated activities. In so being aware the causes that nourish the intelligence of the self come to an end without self-conscious effort. Questioner: How can one cultivate the other intelligence? Krishnamurti: Is not that a wrong question? I wonder if we are paying interested attention to what is being said. The wrong cannot cultivate the right. We are still thinking in terms of self-expanding intelligence and that is our difficulty. We are unaware of it and so we ask, without thought, how can the other intelligence be cultivated? Surely there are certain obvious, essential requirements which will free the mind from this limited intelligence; humility which is related to humor and mercy; to be without greed which is to be without identification; to be unworldly which is to be free from sensate values; to be free from stupidity, from ignorance which is the lack of self-knowledge, and so on. We must be aware of the cunning and devious ways of the self, and in understanding them virtue comes into being, but virtue is not an end in itself. Self-interest cannot cultivate virtue, it can only perpetuate itself under the mask of virtue; under the cover of virtue there is still the activity of the self. It is as though we were attempting to see the clear, pure light through coloured glasses, which we are unaware of wearing. To see the pure light we must first be aware of our coloured glasses; this very awareness, if the urge to see the pure light is strong, helps to remove the coloured glasses. This removal is not the action of one resistance against another but is an effortless action of understanding. We must be aware of the actual and the understanding of what is will set thought free; this very understanding will bring about open receptivity, transcending the particular intelligence. Questioner: How does the intelligence with which we are all familiar come into being? Krishnamurti: It comes into being through perception, sensation, contact, desire, identification, all of which give continuity to the self through memory. The principle of pleasure, pain, identification is ever sustaining this intelligence which can never open the door to Truth. Questioner: We do have to make some kind of effort, do we not? Krishnamurti: The effort that we now make is an activity of the expansion of the self with its particular intelligence. This effort can only strengthen, positively or negatively, the self-protective intelligence or resistance. This intelligence can never experience the Real which alone brings liberation from our conflict, confusion and sorrow. Questioner: How has this intelligence come into being? Krishnamurti: Has it not been cultivated through specialization? Has it not come into being through imitation, through conditioning? The cultivation of the me and the mine is specialization; the me that is special, all important: my work, my action, my success, my virtue, my country, my saviour; this positive and negative striving to become implies specialization. Specialization is death, the lack of infinite pliability. Questioner: I see that but what am I to do? Krishnamurti: Be aware, without choice, of this process of specialization and you will discover that a deep revolutionary change is taking place within you. Do not say to yourself that you are going to be aware, or that awareness has to be cultivated, or that it is a matter of growth or craftsmanship, which is an indication of postponement, laziness. You are or you are not aware. Be aware now of this specializing process. Questioner: All this implies extensive self-study and self-knowledge, does it not? Krishnamurti: And that is the very thing we are attempting here; we are exposing to ourselves the ways of our thought-feeling, its cunning, its subtlety, its pride in its so-called intelligence and so on. This is not book knowledge but actual experience, from moment to moment, in the ways of the self. Thus we are trying to uncover the ways of the self. The desire to expand in the world or to pursue virtue is still the activity of the self; the urge to become, negatively or positively, is the factor in specialization. This desire which prevents infinite pliability must be understood through awareness of the specializing process of the me. Questioner: If I am just pliable can't I go wrong and therefore must I not be anchored in truth? Krishnamurti: Truth is discovered in the uncharted sea of self-knowledge. But why do you ask this question? Is it not because you are frightened lest you go astray? Does it not imply that you crave to achieve, to succeed, to be ever in the right? We crave security and this craving prevents the freedom of Truth. Those who are deep in self-knowledge are pliable. We see that one of the causes of resistance is specialization; and another is imitation. The desire to copy is complex and subtle. The structure of our thought is based on imitation, religious or worldly. Newspapers, radios, magazines, books, education, governments, organized religions, all these and other factors help to make thought conform. Also each one desires to conform; for it is easier to conform than to be aware. Conformity is the basis of our social existence and we are afraid to be alone. Fear and thoughtlessness bring about acceptance and conformity, the acceptance of authority. As with the individual so with the group, with the nation. Conformity is one of the many means through which the self maintains itself. Thought moves from the known to the known, ever fearful of the unknown, of the uncertain, and yet only when there is uncertainty, when the mind is not in the bondage of the known is there the ecstasy of the Real. Thought must be alone for the comprehension of the Real. Through self-knowledge the imitative process comes to an end. Questioner: Must we always face the unknown? Krishnamurti: The Eternal is ever the unknown for a mind that accumulates; what is accumulated is memory and memory is ever the past, the time-binder. That which is the result of time cannot experience the Timeless, the Unknown. We shall always be faced with the unknown till we understand the knowable, which is ourselves. This understanding cannot be given to you by the specialist, the psychologist or the priest; you must seek it for yourself, in yourself, through self-awareness. Memory, the past, is shaping the present according to the pattern of pleasure and pain. Memory becomes the guide, the path towards safety, security; it is this identifying memory that gives continuity to the self. The search for self-knowledge demands constant alertness, an awareness without choice which is difficult and arduous. Questioner: Are we worms which must turn into butterflies? Krishnamurti: Again how easily we slip into ignorant ways of thinking! Being evil we will eventually become good; being mortal we will become immortal. With these comforting thoughts we drug ourselves. Evil can never become good; hate can never become love; greed can never become non-greed. Hate must be abandoned, it cannot be changed into something which it is not. Through growth, through time evil cannot become good. Time does not make the ignoble noble. We must be aware of this ignorance and its illusions. We are educated to think that the conflict of the opposites produces a hoped for result, but this is not so. An opposite is the outcome of resistance and resistance is not overcome by opposition. Each resistance must be dissolved not by its opposite but through understanding the resistance itself. Conflict exists between various desires, not between light and darkness. There can never be struggle between light and darkness for where there is light darkness is not, where there is truth the false is not. When the self divides itself into the higher and the lower, this very contradiction begets conflict, confusion and antagonism. To be aware of what is and not escape into fanciful illusion is the beginning of understanding. We should be concerned with what is, the craving for self-expansion, and not try to transform it, for the transformer is still craving which is the action of the self; the very awareness of what is brings about understanding. To be aware from moment to moment brings its own clarification. The desire for achievement and recognition prevents awakening; the sleeper dreams that he must awaken and struggles in his dream but it is only a dream. The sleeper cannot awaken through dreams; he must cease sleeping. Thought itself must be aware of creating the structure of the self and its perpetuation. One who is earnest must discover for himself the truth about self-perpetuation. Questioner: What is there to prove that the perpetuation of the self is in itself bad? Krishnamurti: Nothing at all, if we are satisfied with it and unaware of the issues of life, but we are all in comparative strife and sorrow. Some cover up their pains or escape from them. They have not resolved their confusion and misery. Realizing our state of self-contradiction and its painful conflicts we want to find the right way of transcending it; for in incompleteness there is no peace. Is it not the very nature of the self, at all times, to be contradictory? This contradiction breeds conflict confusion and enmity. Craving, the very basis of the self, is ever unfulfilled; in trying to overcome incompleteness man is ever in conflict within and without. Those who are in earnest must discover for themselves the truth about incompleteness. This discovery does not depend on any authority or formula nor on the acquisition of knowledge. To discover truth we must be passively aware. Since we are afraid and enclosed we must be aware of the causes that create resistance, of the desire for self-perpetuation which creates conflict. Questioner: What happens to that self-perpetuating intelligence when a soldier in battle throws himself in front of a gun to save another? Krishnamurti: Probably at the moment of great tension the soldier forgets himself but is that a recommendation for war? Questioner: Do we not hear that war brings out noble, self- sacrificing qualities? Krishnamurti: Through a wrong act, the killing of another, can a right worthy end be realized? Questioner: Is not self-knowledge a difficult pursuit? Krishnamurti: It is and yet it is not. It demands effortless discernment, sensitive receptivity. Constant alertness is arduous because we are lazy; we would rather gain through others, through much reading, but information is not self-knowledge. In the meanwhile we continue with greed, wars and the vain repetition of rituals. All this indicates, does it not, the desire to run away from the real problem which is you and your inner insufficiency? Without understanding yourself mere outward activity, however worthy and satisfying, only leads to further confusion and conflict. The earnest search for truth through self-knowledge is truly religious. The truly religious individual begins with himself; his self-knowledge and understanding form the basis of all his activity. As he understands he will know what it is to serve and what it is to love. OJAI 4TH PUBLIC TALK 1946 In the last three talks we have been considering that intelligence which is developed through the activities and habits of the self; that desire which is constantly accumulating and with which thought identifies itself as the me and the mine. This accumulative, identifying habit is called intelligence; the aggressive and self-expanding desire ever seeking security, certainty, is called intelligence. This enchaining habit-memory binds thought and so intelligence is imprisoned in the self. How can this intelligence, this mind that is petty, narrow, cruel, nationalistic, envious, comprehend the Real? How can thought which is the outcome of time, of self-protective activity comprehend that which is not of time? We sometimes experience a state of tranquillity, of extraordinary clarity and joy, when the mind is serene and still. These moments come unexpectedly, without invitation. Such experiencing is not the result of calculated, disciplined thought. It occurs when thought is self-forgetful; when thought has ceased to become, when the mind is not in the conflict of its own self-created problems. So our problem is not how such a creative, joyous moment shall come and be maintained but how to bring about the cessation of self-expansive thought, which does not imply self-immolation but the transcending of the activities of the self. When a machine is revolving very fast, as a fan with several blades, the separate parts are not visible but appear as one. So the self, the me, seems to be a unified entity but if its activities can be slowed down then we shall perceive that it is not a unified entity but made up of many separate and contending desires and pursuits. These separate wants and hopes, fears and joys make up the self. The self is a term to cover craving in its different forms. To understand the self there must be an awareness of craving in its multiple aspects. The passive awareness, the choiceless discernment reveal the ways of the self, bringing freedom from bondage. Thus when the mind is tranquil and free of its own activity and chatter, there is supreme wisdom. Our problem then is how to free thought from its accumulated experiences, memories. How can this self cease to be? Deep and true experience takes place only when the activity of this intelligence ceases. We see that unless there is an experience of truth none of our problems can be solved whether sociological, religious or personal. Conflict cannot come to an end by merely rearranging frontiers or reorganizing economic values or imposing a new ideology; throughout the centuries we have tried these many ways but conflict and sorrow have continued. Till there is a comprehension of the Real, merely pruning the branches of our self-expansive activity is of little use, for the central problem remains unsolved. Till we discover Truth there is no way out of our sorrows and problems. The solution is the direct experience of Truth when the mind is still, in the tranquillity of awareness, in the openness of receptivity. Questioner: Would you please explain again what you mean? Krishnamurti: We often have religious experiences sometimes vague, sometimes definite; experiences of intense devotion or joy, of being deeply vulnerable, of fleeting unity with all things; we try to utilize these experiences in meeting our difficulties and sorrows. These experiences are numerous but our thought, caught in time, turmoil and pain, tries to use them as stimulants to overcome our conflicts. So we say God or Truth will help us in our difficulties, but these experiences do not actually resolve our sorrow and confusion. Such moments of deep experience come when thought is not active in its self-protective memories; these experiences are independent of our striving and when we try to use them as stimulants for strength in our struggles, they only further the expansion of the self and its peculiar intelligence. So we come back to our question: how can this intelligence so sedulously cultivated cease? It can cease only through passive awareness. Awareness is from moment to moment, it is not the cumulative effect of self-protective memories. Awareness is not determination nor is it the action of will. Awareness is the complete and unconditional surrender to what is, without rationalization, without the division of the observer and the observed. As awareness is non-accumulative, non-residual, it does not build up the self, positively or negatively. Awareness is ever in the present and so, non-identifying and non-repetitive; nor does it create habit. Take, for instance, the habit of smoking and experiment with it in awareness. Be aware of smoking, do not condemn, rationalize or accept, simply be aware. If you are so aware there is the cessation of the habit; if you are so aware there will be no recurrence of it but if you are not aware the habit will persist. This awareness is not the determination to cease or to indulge. Be aware; there is a fundamental difference between being and becoming. To become aware you make effort and effort implies resistance and time, and leads to conflict. If you are aware in the moment there is no effort, no continuance of the self-protective intelligence. You are aware or you are not; the desire to be aware is only the activity of the sleeper, the dreamer. Awareness reveals the problem completely, fully, without denial or acceptance, justification or identification, and it is freedom which quickens understanding. Awareness is a unitary process of the observer and the observed. Questioner: Can open, still receptivity of the mind come with the action of will or desire? Krishnamurti: You may succeed in forcibly stilling the mind but what is the outcome of such effort? Death, is it not? You may succeed in silencing the mind but thought still remains petty, envious, contradictory, does it not? Through exertion, through an act of will we think an effortless state can be achieved in which we may experience the ecstasy of the Real. The experience of inexplicable joy or intense devotion or profound understanding comes only when there is effortless being. Questioner: Are there not two kinds of intelligence, the one with which we function daily and the other which is higher, which guides, controls and is beneficial? Krishnamurti: Does not the self for the sake of its own permanency divide itself into the high and the low, the controller and the controlled? Does not this division arise from the desire for continued self-expansion? However cunningly it might divide itself, the self is still the result of craving, it is still seeking different objectives through which to fulfil itself. A petty mind cannot possibly formulate something which is not also petty. The mind is essentially limited and whatever it creates is of itself. Its gods, its values, its objectives and activities are narrow and measurable and so it cannot understand that which is not of itself, the Immeasurable. Questioner: Can a petty thought go beyond itself? Krishnamurti: How can it? Greed is still greed even if it reaches for heaven. Only when it is aware of its own limitation does the limited thought cease. The limited thought cannot become the free; when limitation ceases there is freedom. If you will experiment with awareness you will discover the truth of this. It is the petty mind that creates problems for itself and through awareness of the cause of problems, the self, they are dissolved. To be aware of narrowness and its many results implies deep understanding of it on all the different levels of consciousness; pettiness in things, in relationship, in ideas. When we are conscious of being petty or violent or envious we make an effort not to be; we condemn it for we desire to be something else. This condemnatory attitude puts an end to the understanding of what is and its process. The desire to put an end to greed is another form of self-assertion and so is the cause of continued conflict and pain. Questioner: What is wrong with purposeful thinking if it is logical? Krishnamurti: If the thinker is unaware of himself though he may be purposeful, his logic will inevitably lead him to misery; if he is in authority, in a position of power, he brings misery and destruction upon others. That is what is happening in the world, is it not? Without self-knowledge thought is not based on Reality, it is ever in contradiction and its activities are mischievous and harmful. To come back to our point: through awareness only can there be cessation of the cause of conflict. Be aware of any habit of thought or action; then you will recognize the rationalizing, condemnatory process which is preventing understanding. Through awareness -the reading of the book of habit page by page - comes self-knowledge. It is truth that frees, not your effort to be free. Awareness is the solution of our problems; we must experiment with it and discover its truth. It would be folly merely to accept; to accept is not to understand. Acceptance or non-acceptance is a positive act which hinders experimentation and understanding. Understanding that comes through experiment and self-knowledge brings confidence. This confidence may be called faith. It is not the faith of the foolish; it is not faith in something. Ignorance may have faith in wisdom, darkness in light, cruelty in love, but such faith is still ignorance. This confidence or faith of which I am speaking comes through experimentation in self-knowledge, not through acceptance and hope. The self-confidence that many have is the outcome of ignorance, of achievement, of self-glory or of capacity. The confidence of which I speak is understanding, not the understand, but understanding without self-identification. The confidence or faith in something, however noble, breeds only obstinacy and obstinacy is another term for credulity. The clever ones have destroyed blind faith but when they themselves are in serious conflict or sorrow they accept faith or become cynical. To believe is not to be religious; to have faith in something which is created by the mind is not to be open to the Real. Confidence comes into being, it cannot be manufactured by the mind; confidence comes with experiment and discovery; not the experiment with belief, theory or memory but experimentation with self-knowledge. This confidence or faith is not self-imposed nor is it identified with belief, formulation, hope. It is not the outcome of self-expanding desire. In experimenting with awareness there is a discovery which is freeing in its understanding. This self-knowledge through passive awareness is from moment to moment, without accumulation; it is endless, truly creative. Through awareness there comes vulnerability to Truth. To be open, vulnerable to the Real, thought must cease to be accumulative. It is not that thought-feeling must become non-greedy, which is still accumulative, a negative form of self-expansion, but it must be non-greedy. A greedy mind is a conflicting mind; a greedy mind is ever fearful, envious in its self-growth and fulfillment. Such a mind is ever changing the objects of its desire and this changing is considered growth; a greedy mind which renounces the world in order to seek Reality, God, is still greedy; greed is ever restless, ever seeking growth, fulfillment, and this restless activity creates self-assertive intelligence but is not capable of understanding the Real. Greed is a complex problem! To live in the world of greed without greed needs deep understanding; to live simply, earning a right livelihood in a world organized on economic aggression and expansion is possible only for those who are discovering inward riches. Questioner: In the very act of coming here are we not seeking some spark to enlighten us? Krishnamurti: What is it that you are seeking? Questioner: Wisdom and knowledge. Krishnamurti: Why do you seek? Questioner: We are seeking to fill the deep, hidden inner void. Krishnamurti: We are then seeking something to fill our emptiness; this filler we call knowledge, wisdom, truth and so on. So we are not seeking truth, wisdom, but something to fill our aching loneliness. If we can find that which can enrich our inward poverty we think our search will end. Now can anything fill this void? Some are painfully conscious of it and others are not; some have sought to escape through activity, through stimulation, through mysterious rituals, through ideologies and so on; others are conscious of this void but have not found a way of covering it up. Most of us know this fear, this panic of nothingness. We are seeking to overcome this fear, this emptiness; we are seeking something that can heal the aching agony of inner insufficiency. As long as you are convinced that you can find some escape you will go on seeking but is it not part of wisdom to see that all escape, no matter how alluring, is useless? When the truth about escape dawns on you will you persist in your search? Obviously not. Then we accept inevitably what is; this complete surrender to what is, is the liberating Truth, not the attainment of the objects of search. Our life is conflict, pain; we crave security, permanency, but are caught in the net of the impermanent. We are the impermanent. Can the impermanent find the Eternal, the Timeless? Can illusion find Reality? Can ignorance find wisdom? Only with the cessation of the impermanent is there the permanent; with the cessation of ignorance is there wisdom. We are concerned with the cessation of the impermanent, the self. Questioner: One of our great teachers has said, "Seek and ye shall find". Is it not advantageous to seek? Krishnamurti: By this question we betray ourselves and how little we are aware of the ways of our thought. We are forever thinking of what is advantageous for us and that we desire. Do you think a mind that is seeking profit can find truth? If it is seeking truth as an advantage, then it is no longer seeking truth. Truth is beyond and above all personal advantage and gain. A mind that is seeking gain, achievement, can never find Truth. The search for gain is for security, for refuge, and Truth is not a security, a refuge. Truth is the liberator, sweeping away all refuge and security. Besides, why do you seek? Is it not because you are in confusion and pain? Instead of seeking an escape through activity, through psychologists, through priests, through rituals, must you not search out the cause of conflict and sorrow in yourself? The cause is the self, craving. The deliverance from confusion and pain is in yourself and not another can free you. Questioner: If we can open our consciousness to truth is that not sufficient? Krishnamurti: We revert to this question in different ways over and over again. Can the mind, the self-consciousness, which is the product of time, understand or experience the Timeless? When the mind seeks will it find Reality, God? When the mind asserts that it must be open to Reality is it capable of being so? If thought is aware that it is the product of ignorance, of the limited self, then there is a possibility for it to cease formulating, imagining, being occupied with itself. Only through awareness can thought transcend itself, not through will, which is another form of self-expansive desire. When are we joyous? Is it the result of calculation, of an act of will? It happens when conflicting problems and demands of desire are absent. As a lake is calm when the winds stop so the mind is still when craving with its problems ceases. The mind cannot induce itself to be quiet, to be still; the lake is not calm till the winds cease. Till the problems the self creates cease there can be no tranquillity. The mind has to understand itself and not try to escape into illusion, or seek something that it is incapable of experiencing or understanding. Questioner: Is there a technique for being aware? Krishnamurti: What does this question imply? You seek a method by which you may learn to be aware. Awareness is not the result of practice, habit or time. As a tooth that causes intense pain has to be attended to immediately so sorrow, if intense, demands urgent alleviation. But instead we seek an escape or explain it away; we avoid the real issue which is the self. Because we are not facing our conflict, our sorrow, we assure ourselves lazily that we must make an effort to be aware and so we demand a technique for becoming aware. So it is not by an act of will that truth is uncovered but through tranquil vulnerability the Real comes into being. OJAI 5TH PUBLIC TALK 1946 We have been considering the problem of intelligence, that intelligence which has been developed during the course of self-assertive struggles and self-protective pursuits, of acquisitive demands and imitative conformities; we saw that with that intelligence we hoped to solve our conflicts and discover or experience Truth or God. Can that intelligence ever experience the Real? If it cannot then how can it come to an end or be transformed? We saw that this is possible only through passive awareness and that we can at any time be aware without the will to become aware. To understand what is implied in awareness we examined greed and tried to understand its activities; greed not only for the tangible but also for power, for authority; greed for affection, for knowledge, for service and so on; we saw that we either condemn or justify greed thereby identifying ourselves with it. We saw, too, that awareness is a process of discovery which becomes blocked through identification. When we are rightly aware of greed in its complexity there is no struggle against it, no negative assertion of non-greed, which is only another form of self-assertiveness; and in that awareness we will find that greed has ceased. Awareness is not the result of practice for practice implies the formation of habit; habit is the denial of awareness. Awareness is of the moment and not a cumulative result. To say to ourselves that we shall become aware is not to be aware. To say that we are going to be non-greedy is merely to continue to be greedy, to be unaware of it. How do we approach a complex problem? We do not surely meet complexity with complexity; we must approach it simply and the greater our simplicity the greater will be the clarification. To understand and experience Reality there must be utter simplicity and tranquillity. When we suddenly see a magnificent scenery or come upon a great thought, or listen to great music, we are utterly still. Our minds are not simple but to recognize complexity is to be simple. If you would understand yourself, your complexity, there must be open receptivity, the simplicity of non-identification. But we are not aware of beauty or complexity and so we chatter endlessly. Questioner: We must not criticize then if we are to be aware? Krishnamurti: Without probing deeply into oneself self- knowledge is not possible. What do we mean by self-criticism? The function of the mind is to probe and to comprehend. Without this probing into ourselves, without this deep awareness, there can be no understanding. We often indulge in the stupidity of criticizing others but few are capable of probing deeply into themselves. The function of the mind is not only to probe, to delve, but also to be silent. In silence there is comprehension. We are ever probing but we are rarely silent; in us rarely are there alert, passive intervals of tranquillity; we probe and are soon weary of it without the creative silence. But self-probing is as essential for the clarity of understanding as is stillness. As the earth is allowed to lie fallow during the winter so must thought be still after deep searching. This very fallowness is its renewal. If we delve deeply into ourselves and are still then in this stillness, in this openness, there is understanding. Questioner: This complexity is so deep that one does not seem to have an opportunity for quietness. Krishnamurti: Must there be an opportunity to be still, to be quiet? Must you create the occasion, the right environment to be peaceful? Is it then peace? With right probing there comes right stillness. When do you look into yourself? When the problem demands it, when it is urgent, surely. But if you are seeking an opportunity to be silent then you are not aware. Self-probing comes with conflict and sorrow, and there must be passive receptivity to understand. Surely self-probing, stillness and understanding are in awareness a single process and not three separate states. Questioner: Would you enlarge that point? Krishnamurti: Let us take envy. Any resolution not to be envious is neither simple nor effective, it is even stupid. To determine not to be envious is to build walls of conclusions around oneself and these walls prevent understanding. But if you are aware you will discover the ways of envy; if there is interested alertness you will find its ramifications at different levels of the self. Each probing brings with it silence and understanding; as one cannot continuously probe deeply, which would only result in exhaustion, there must be spaces of alert inactivity. This watchful stillness is not the outcome of weariness; with self-probing there come easily and naturally moments of passive alertness. The more complex the problem the more intense is the probing and the silence. There need be no specially created occasion or opportunity for silence; the very perception of the complexity of a problem brings with it deep silence. Our difficulty lies in that we have built around ourselves conclusions which we call understanding. These conclusions are hindrances to understanding. If you go into this more deeply you will see that there must be complete abandonment of all that has been accumulated for the being of understanding and wisdom. To be simple is not a conclusion, an intellectual concept for which you strive. There can be simplicity only when the self with its accumulation ceases. It is comparatively easy to renounce family, property, fame, things of the world; that is only a beginning; but it is extremely difficult to put away all knowledge, all conditioned memory. In this freedom, this aloneness, there is experience which is beyond and above all creations of the mind. Do not let us ask whether the mind ever can be free from conditioning, from influence; we shall find this out as we proceed in self-knowledge and understanding. Thought which is a result cannot understand the Causeless. The ways of accumulation are subtle; accumulation is self-assertiveness, as is imitation. To come to a conclusion is to build a wall around oneself, a protective security which prevents understanding. Accumulated conclusions do not make for wisdom but only sustain the self. Without accumulation there is no self. A mind weighed down with accumulations is incapable of following the swift movement of life, incapable of deep and pliable awareness. Questioner: Are you not encouraging separateness, individualism? Krishnamurti: He who is influenced is separate, knowing the division of the high and the low, of merit and demerit. Aloneness in the sense of being free from influence is not separative, not antagonizing. It is a state to be experienced, not speculated upon. The self is ever separative, it is the cause of division, conflict and sorrow. Do you not feel separate; are not your activities those of a self-assertive, self-expansive individual? Obviously your thoughts and activities are now individualistic, narrow; it is your work, your achievement, your country, your belief, even your God. You are separate and so your social structure is based on self-assertiveness which causes untold misery and destruction; you may assert we are all one but in actual daily life your activities are separative, individualistic, competitive, ruthless, leading ultimately to war and misery. If we are aware of this self-aggressive process in ourselves and understand its implications then there is a possibility of bring about a peaceful and happy relationship between man and man. The very awareness of what is, is a liberative process. So long as we are unaware of what we are, and are trying to become something else, so long will there be distortion and pain. The very awareness of what I am brings about transformation and the freedom of understanding. Questioner: Cannot one think about the Uncreated, about Reality, God? Krishnamurti: The created cannot think about the Uncreated. It can think only about its own projection which is not the Real. Can thought which is the result of time, of influence, of imitation, think about that which is not measurable? It can only think about that which is known. What is knowable is not the Real, what is known is ever receding into the past and what is past is not the Eternal. You may speculate upon the unknown but you cannot think about it. When you think about something you are probing into it, subjecting it to different moods and influences. But such thinking is not meditation. Creativeness is a state of being which is not the outcome of thinking. Right meditation opens the door to the Real. But let us go back to what we were considering. Are we aware that our so-called thinking is the result of influence, of conditioning, of imitation? Are you not influenced by propaganda, religious or secular, by the politician and the priest, by the economist and the advertiser? Collective worship and regimentation of thought are alike and both hinder the discovery and experience of Reality. Propaganda is not the instrument of Truth, whether of organized religion or politics or business. If we would discover Truth we must be aware of the subtleties of influence, of challenge and of our response. Learning a technique, a method, does not lead to creative being. When the past ceases to influence the present, when time ceases, there is creative being which can be experienced only in deep meditation. Questioner: Is not thinking the initial step to creativeness? Krishnamurti: The initial step is to be self-aware. Our thinking, as we said, is the result of the past; it is the result of conditioning, of imitation; that being so all effort it makes to free itself is vain. All it can do and must do is be aware of its own conditioning and cause; through the understanding of the cause there comes freedom from it. If we were aware of our stupidity, ignorance then there would be a possibility of wisdom; but to consider stupidity as a necessary beginning for intelligence is wrong thinking. If we recognize that we are stupid then that very recognition is the beginning of thoughtfulness; but recognizing it, if we try to become clever, then that very becoming is another form of stupidity. Any definite pattern of thought prevents understanding. Understanding is not substitution; mere change of patterns, of conclusions, does not yield understanding. Understanding comes with self-awareness and self-knowledge. There is no substitute for self-knowledge. Is it not important first to understand oneself, to be aware of one's own conditioning rather than seek understanding outside of oneself? Understanding comes with the awareness of what is. Questioner: Being imitative what shall we do? Krishnamurti: Be self-aware which will reveal the hidden motives of imitation, envy, fear, the craving for security, for power and so on. This awareness when free of self-identification brings understanding and tranquillity which lead to the realization of supreme wisdom. Questioner: Is not this process of awareness, of self-unfoldment another form of acquisition? Is not probing another means of self-expansive acquisitiveness? Krishnamurti: If the questioner experimented with awareness he would discover the truth about his question. Understanding is never accumulative; understanding comes only when there is stillness, when there is passive alertness. There is no stillness, no passivity when the mind is acquisitive; acquisitiveness is ever restless, envious. As we said, awareness is not cumulative; through identification accumulation is built up, giving continuity to the self through memory. To be aware without self-identification, without condemnation or justification is extremely arduous, for our response is based on pleasure and pain, reward and punishment. How few are aware of constant identification; if we were we would not ask these questions which indicate unawareness. As a sleeper dreams that he must awaken but does not, for it is only a dream, so we are asking these questions without actually experimenting with awareness. Questioner: Is there anything that one can do to be aware? Krishnamurti: Are you not in conflict, in sorrow? If you are do you not search out its cause? The cause is the self, its torturing desires. To struggle with these desires only creates resistance, further pain, but if you are choicelessly aware of your craving then there comes creative understanding. It is the truth of this understanding that liberates, not your struggle against resistance to envy, anger, pride and so on. So awareness is not an act of will for will is resistance, the effort made by the self through desire to acquire, to grow, whether positively or negatively. Be aware of acquisitiveness, passively observing its ways on different levels; you will find this rather arduous, for thought-feeling sustains itself on identification and it is this which prevents the understanding of accumulation. Be aware take the journey of self-discovery. Do not ask what is going to happen on this journey which only betrays anxiety, fear, indicating your desire for security, for certainty. This desire for refuge prevents self-knowledge, self-unfoldment and so, understanding. Be aware of this inward anxiety and directly experience it; then you will discover what this awareness reveals. But unfortunately most of you only desire to talk about the journey without undertaking it. Questioner: What happens to us at the end of the journey? Krishnamurti: Is it not important for the questioner to be aware of why he is asking this question? Is it not because of the fear of the unknown, the desire to gain an end, or the assurance of self-continuity? Being in sorrow we seek happiness; being impermanent we search after the permanent; being in darkness we look for light. But if we were aware of what is, then the truth of sorrow, of impermanency, of imprisonment would liberate thought from its own ignorance. Questioner: Is there no such thing as creative thinking? Krishnamurti: It would be rather vain to consider what is creativeness. If we were aware of our conditioning then the truth of this would bring about creative being. To speculate upon creative being is a hindrance; all speculation is a hindrance to understanding. Only when the mind is simple, purged of all self-deception and cunning, cleansed of all accumulation, is there the Real. The purgation of the mind is not an act of will nor the outcome of imitative compulsion. Awareness of what is, is liberating. OJAI 6TH PUBLIC TALK 1946 As this is the last talk of this series perhaps it might be well to make a brief summary of what we have been considering during the past five Sundays. We have been discussing whether the process of what we call intelligence can resolve any of our problems and sorrows; whether the ant-like activity which has developed self-protective intelligence can bring about enlightenment and peace. This activity on the surface, called intelligence, cannot resolve our many difficulties for within there is still confusion, turmoil and darkness. This intelligence has been developed through the expansion of the self, the ego, the me and the mine; this activity is the outcome of inner insufficiency, incompleteness. Outwardly thought is active, building and destroying, contradicting and modifying, renewing and suppressing; but within there is void and despair. The outer activity of plastic and steel, reform and counter reform, is ever lost in the inward emptiness and confusion. You may build wonderful structures or organize spaciously over a smoldering volcano but what you construct is soon smothered by ashes and destroyed. So this expansive activity of the self, this intelligence, however alert, capable and industrious, cannot penetrate through its own darkness to Reality. This intelligence cannot at any time resolve its own conflicts and miseries for they are the outcome of its own activity. This intelligence is incapable of discovering Truth and only Truth can free us from ever increasing conflicts and sorrows. We further considered how this self-expansive intelligence is to cease reshaping itself negatively. Whether positive or negative, the activity of craving is still within the framework of the self and can this activity ever come to an end? We said that only through self-awareness can this accumulative intelligence of the self cease. We saw this awareness to be from moment to moment, without cumulative power; that in this awareness self-identification-condemnation- modification cannot take place and so there is deep and full understanding. We said that this awareness is not progressive but an instantaneous perception and that the thought of progressive becoming prevents immediate clarification. This morning we shall consider meditation. In understanding it we can perhaps comprehend the full and deep significance of passive awareness. Awareness is right meditation and without meditation there can be no self-knowledge. Earnestness in the discovery of one's motives is more important than to seek out a method of meditation. The more earnest one is the more capacity one has to probe and to perceive. So it is essential to be earnest rather than to form and pursue a conclusion, to be earnest rather than arbitrarily hold to an intention. If we merely hold to an intention, a conclusion, a resolution, thought becomes narrow, obstinate, fixed, but if there is earnestness this very quality is capable of deep penetration. The difficulty is in being constantly earnest. Spiritual window shopping is not an indication of seriousness. If you have the capacity to allow thought to unroll itself fully then you will perceive that one thought contains, or is related to, all thought. There is no need to go from teacher to teacher, from guru to guru, from leader to leader, for all things are contained in you, the beginning and the end. None can help you to discover the Real; no ritual, no collective worship, no authority can help you. Another may point out the direction but to make of him an authority, a gateway to the Real, a necessity, is to be ignorant, which breeds fear and superstition. To delve deeply within oneself and discover needs earnestness. This probing we consider tedious, uninspiring, so we depend upon stimulants, Masters, saviours, leaders, to encourage us to understand ourselves. This encouragement or stimulation becomes a necessity, an addiction, and weakens the quality of earnestness. Being in contradiction and sorrow we think we are incapable of finding a solution so we look to another or try to find the answer in a book. To look within demands earnest application which is not brought about through the practice of any method. It comes through serious interest and awareness. If one is interested in something thought pursues it, consciously or unconsciously, in spite of fatigue and distraction. If you are interested in painting then every light, every shade has meaning; you do not have to exert to be interested, you do not have to force yourself to observe but through the very intensity of interest even unconsciously you are observing, discovering, experiencing. Similarly if there is an interest in the comprehension and dissolution of sorrow then that very interest turns the pages of the book of self-knowledge. To have a goal, an end to be achieved, prevents self-knowledge; earnest awareness reveals the ways of the self. Without self-knowledge there can be no understanding; self-knowledge is the beginning of wisdom. Our thought is the result of the past; our thinking is based on the past, upon conditioning. Without comprehending this past there is no understanding of the Real. The comprehension of the past lies through the present. The Real is not the reward for self-knowledge. The Real is Causeless and thought that has cause cannot experience it. Without a foundation there can be no lasting structure and the right foundation for understanding is self-knowledge. So all right thinking is the outcome of self-knowledge. If I do not know myself how can I understand anything else? For without self-knowledge all knowledge is in vain. Without self-knowledge incessant activity is of ignorance; this incessant activity, inner or outer, only causes destruction and misery. Understanding of the ways of the self leads to freedom. Virtue is freedom, orderliness; without order, freedom, there can be no experiencing of the Real. In virtue there is freedom, not in the becoming virtuous. The desire to become, negatively or positively, is self-expansive and in the expansion of the self there can be no freedom. Questioner: You said the Real should not be an incentive. It seems to me that if I try to think of the Real I am better able to understand myself and my difficulties. Krishnamurti: Is it possible to think about the Real? We may be able to formulate, imagine, speculate upon what we consider the Real to be but is it the Real? Can we think about the unknowable? Can we think, meditate upon the Timeless when our thought is the result of the past, of time? The past is ever the Mown and thought which is based on it can only create the known. So to think about Truth is to be caught in the net of ignorance. If thought is able to think about Truth then it will not be Truth. Truth is a state of being in which the so-called activity of thought has ceased. Thinking, as we know it, is the result of the self-expansive process of time, of the past; it is the result of the movement of the known to the known. Thought which is the outcome of a cause can never formulate the Causeless. It can only think about the known for it is the product of the known. What is known is not the Real. Our thought is occupied with the constant search for security, for certainty. Self-expansive intelligence by its very nature craves a refuge, either through negation or assertion. How can a mind that is ever seeking certainty, stimulation, encouragement, possibly think of that which is illimitable? You may read about it which is unfortunate, you may verbalize it which is a waste of time, but it is not the Real. When you say that by thinking about Truth you can better solve your difficulties and sorrows, you are using the supposed truth as a palliative; as with all drugs, sleep and dullness soon follow. Why seek external stimulants when the problem demands an understanding of its maker? As I was saying, virtue gives freedom but there is no freedom in becoming virtuous. There is a vast and unbridgeable difference between being and becoming. Questioner: Is there a difference between truth and virtue? Krishnamurti: Virtue gives freedom for thought to be tranquil, to experience the Real. So virtue is not an end in itself, only Truth is. To be a slave to passion is to be without freedom and in freedom alone can there be discovery and experience of the Real. Greed like anger is a disturbing factor, is it not? Envy is ever restless, never still. Craving is ever changing the object of its fulfillment, from things to passion, to virtue, to the idea of God. The greed for Reality is the same as the greed for possessions. Craving comes through perception, contact, sensation; desire seeks fulfillment so there is identification, the me and the mine. Being satiated with things desire pursues other forms of gratification, more subtle forms of fulfillment in relationship, in knowledge, in virtue, in the realization of God. Craving is the root cause of all conflict and sorrow. All forms of becoming, negative or positive, cause conflict, resistance. Questioner: Is there any difference between awareness and that of which we are aware? Is the observer different from his thoughts? Krishnamurti: The observer and the observed are one; the thinker and his thoughts are one. To experience the thinker and his thought as one is very arduous for the thinker is ever taking shelter behind his thought; he separates himself from his thoughts to safeguard himself, to give himself continuity, permanency; he modifies or changes his thoughts, but he remains. This pursuit of thought apart from himself, this changing, transforming it leads to illusion. The thinker is his thought; the thinker and his thoughts are not two separate processes. The questioner asks if awareness is different from the object of awareness. We generally regard our thoughts as being apart from ourselves; we are not aware of the thinker and his thought as one. This is precisely the difficulty. After all, the qualities of the self are not separate from the self; the self is not something apart from its thoughts, from its attributes. The self is put together, made up, and the self is not when the parts are dissolved. But in illusion the self separates itself from its qualities in order to protect itself, to give itself continuity, permanency. It takes refuge in its qualities through separating itself from them. The self asserts that it is this and it is that; the self, the I, modifies, changes, transforms its thoughts, its qualities, but this change only gives strength to the self, to its protective walls. But if you are aware deeply you will perceive that the thinker and his thoughts are one; the observer is the observed. To experience this actual integrated fact is extremely difficult and right meditation is the way to this integration. Questioner: How can I be on the defence against aggression without action? Morality demands that we should do something against evil? Krishnamurti: To defend is to be aggressive. Should you fight evil by evil? Through wrong means can right be established? Can there be peace in the world by murdering those who are murderers? As long as we divide ourselves into groups, nationals, different religions and ideologies there will be the aggressor and the defender. To be without virtue is to be without freedom, which is evil. This evil cannot be overcome by another evil, by another opposing desire. Questioner: Experiencing is not necessarily a becoming is it? Krishnamurti: Additive process prevents the experiencing of the Real. Where there is accumulation there is a becoming of the self which is the cause of conflict and pain. The accumulative desire for pleasure and the avoidance of pain is a becoming. Awareness is non-accumulative for it is ever discovering truth and truth can only be when there is no accumulation, when there is no imitation. Effort of the self can never bring about freedom for effort implies resistance and resistance can be dissolved only through choiceless awareness, effortless discernment. It is truth alone that frees, not the activity of will. The awareness of truth is liberating; the awareness of greed and of the truth about it brings liberation from greed. Meditation is the purgation from the mind of all its accumulations; the purgation of the power to gather, to identify, to become; the purgation of self-growth of self-fulfilment; meditation is the freeing of the mind from memory, from time. Thought is the product of the past, it is rooted in the past; thought is the continuation of accumulative becoming, and that which is a result cannot understand or experience that which is without a cause. What can be formulated is not the Real and the word is not the experience. Memory, the maker of time, is an impediment to the Timeless. Questioner: Why is memory an impediment? Krishnamurti: Memory, as the identifying process, gives continuity to the self. Memory then is an enclosing, hindering activity. On it the whole structure of the ego, the I, is built. We are considering psychological memory not the memory for speech, facts, for the development of technique and so on. Any activity of the self is an impediment to truth; any activity or education that conditions the mind through nationalism, through identification with a group, an ideology, a dogma, is an impediment to Truth. Conditioned knowledge is a hindrance to Reality. Understanding comes with the cessation of all activity of the mind - when the mind is utterly free, silent, tranquil. Craving is ever accumulative and time-binding; desire for a goal, knowledge, experience, growth, fulfillment and even the desire for God or Truth is an impediment. The mind must purge itself of all its self- created impediments for supreme wisdom to be. Meditation as it is generally understood and practised is a process of the expansion of the self; often meditation is a form of self-hypnosis. In so-called meditation effort very often is directed towards becoming like a Master, which is imitation. All such meditation leads to illusion. The craving for achievement demands a technique, a method, practice of which is considered meditation. Through compulsion imitation and through the formation of new habits and disciplines, there will be no freedom, no understanding; through the means of time the Timeless is not experienced. The change of the objects of desire does not bring release from conflict and sorrow. Will is self-expansive intelligence and the activity of will to be or not to be, to gather or renounce, is still of the self. To be aware of the process of craving with its accumulative memory is to experience Truth which is the only liberator. Awareness flows into meditation; in meditation, Being, the Eternal, is experienced. Becoming can never transform itself into Being. Becoming, the expansive and enclosing activity of the self, must cease; then there is Being. This Being cannot be thought about, cannot be imagined; the very thought about it is a hindrance; all that thought can do is to be aware of its own complex and subtle becoming, its own cunning intelligence and will. Through self-knowledge there comes right thinking which is the foundation for right meditation. Meditation should not be confused with prayer. Supplicatory prayer does not lead to supreme wisdom for it ever maintains the division between self and the Other. In silence, in supreme tranquillity when the restless activity of memory has ceased, there is the Immeasurable, the Eternal. MADRAS 1ST PUBLIC TALK 22ND OCTOBER, 1947 As I am going to talk every Sunday for many Sundays, I think it will be best if I very carefully and slowly develop the ideas which I have. I shall try to make my points as clear as possible during this and subsequent talks every Sunday at 5 p.m. Most of us are used to listening to talks, and I hope you will not reduce these talks to the level of mere talks to which you attend and which are of no consequence afterwards in your daily life, because I feel that at the present time the world is in such chaos, in such a mess in such an extraordinary catastrophic strain that it requires a new outlook, a revolutionary way of thinking about the problems that surround us every day. So it seems to me that it is very important that we, every one of us should understand the catastrophe that is around us. Verbally we are aware that there is a catastrophe. We read about it in the newspapers, in the magazines. Every person we talk to makes us aware of the approaching catastrophe. If you look at it more closely, you will see that there is chaos and confusion in the political world, and the leaders are themselves confused. Not only here, but everywhere. When talking about the catastrophe, I am not talking about the Indian catastrophe only. India is only a part of the whole world and therefore to regard the Indian problem as the only problem seems to me to be out of proportion and gives it a false emphasis which it does not have. So, this is a world problem and we must look at it in the large and not in the particular. We must see the whole picture and not a part of it and our difficulty will be to see the whole rather than the particular. Because we are surrounded by the national, by the immediate, it seems to me that to understand it, we must approach it not from the particular but must try to understand the catastrophe that exists around us. So, I always say that there is a crisis in every phase of our life, physically, religiously, socially and educationally. Politically we see that there is no solution through nationalism, through division of peoples and through separate Governments. But, we see that the contrary is taking place. We had our faith in the League of Nations, but that failed and we see the U. N.O. quickly failing. So we look to the political leaders to solve our difficulties. In the religious field also it is the same. We can almost say that religion has failed. The organized religions throughout the world, whether the Christian, the Hindu, or the Buddhist, have nothing real to say about this enormous catastrophe. And this catastrophe is not temporary, not a passing one, not one of those economic crises as in 1929 and various other social upheavals that took place. A catastrophe like this happens very rarely. It is a catastrophe of the highest degree and if you had talks or discussions with many people, you would discover that this catastrophe cannot be compared with any that happened before. Perhaps there have been one or two other catastrophes similar to this, but the fundamental values have been destroyed and new ones have to be created. If you are a student of history and if you look at it you will find that there have been but one or two such enormous catastrophes as the present one. We have to consider Man as a whole: psychologically, sociologically and economically. Everything is uncertain and we are all trying to solve this problem on our own special level. That is, the economist tries to solve the economic problem on his own level and his own plane and therefore he can never have a solution for it. Again, the politician tries to solve it on his own level and he will never succeed, because the economic crisis, the political crisis, the various problems that surround us every day have to be solved on a different plane and that is where I feel revolution must take place. So, as this crisis is extraordinary, most people try to solve it by formulae, by systems either of the extreme left or of the extreme right. We have a formula either of the left or of the right or something in between both and we try to apply it to solve the difficulty. It is so, is it not? If you are a socialist, you have the formula and with that formula you approach the problem and with that formula you try to solve it. But you notice it, But you notice that you can only solve a static problem by a formula and no problem is ever static because there are so many influences, so many actions upon it, that it is constantly changing. And therefore, no formula of any kind can ever solve a dynamic problem. And yet that is what we are trying to do. The left and the right are trying to solve it within the framework of certain formulae, certain set ideas. But the formulae can never solve anything. Systems have never solved anything, nor brought about a revolution. A revolution has been brought about by creative thinkers, not by mere followers. So what is required at the present time, I feel, is not a new formula, not a new system, neither of the left nor of the right, but a different approach, and that is important. If you have a problem what matters is how you approach it. If you approach it with a fixed mentality, with set ideas, you will not solve the problem, because the problem is not static. It is constantly undergoing a change and the fact that it cannot be solved by mere formulae seems to be obvious and I hope it will be obvious to you by the time I finish with these talks. What I feel important in this is that each one of us should solve this problem and not leave it to the leaders. This problem, this catastrophe requires, not static thinking but revolutionary thinking, a thinking which is not based on any ideology, whether of Hinduism, Nationalism or Capitalism. It requires a change in our thinking. And so, the approach to the problem becomes all important. The `how' is more important than `action'. So, to know how to approach this catastrophe is more important than what to do about it. That `how' can only be understood, when we are capable of looking at the problem through ourselves and not through formula. That is, as it is a world catastrophe, it requires a mind that is capable of looking at it without any prejudice. You cannot look at it as a Brahmin or as a Mussalman, as a Christian or as a Buddhist. Because we have looked at it in the past in this way we have brought about this crisis. Because of tradition and other absurdities among us, we have brought about this problem and if we approach the problem with the same mentality, we shall not clarify or understand it, but only further it. It is, as if we were standing near a precipice with our minds biased, and we have come to that bias through centuries of division, communal and social, rich and poor; divisions of formulae, organized religious divisions and so on have brought us to this appalling misery and `confusion'. If we would understand it, we must go away from the precipice and look at the problem. We cannot stand at the precipice, at the edge of the precipice and try to solve the problem. On the contrary, we must completely abandon those causes which have brought us to that stage and look at the problem from a distance and that is where our difficulty is. We know the catastrophe, we know the sociological causes of the wars that have been fought and the wars that are going to be fought. Preparations are going on with marvellous skill for the third war and you and I know that is the edge of the precipice. I do not think India is going to escape from it. Most of us realize, how comparatively serious the whole thing is. We read about it all in the papers but are distracted away by our immediate demands and pleasures and pains. But the catastrophe is enormously serious and that is why if we would salvage something out of this catastrophe, we would become very serious and feel sorry for the absurdities of class divisions and the like. If the problem were serious enough we would do something about it. If you had a toothache you would do something immediately. But this pain is much greater and more grievous than a toothache. It is more continuous, more distant and that is why we are doing nothing. We are looking to leaders, gurus, formulae, systems, etc., we look either to Moscow or to Washington. So, we are at the edge of it and we have to confront it. This catastrophe has been brought about by each one of us. We are confused within us and that confusion manifests itself in the outer. So, each one, Muslim, Hindu, Buddhist, Christian, is responsible for this misery. Neither the capitalist nor the socialist can escape from it, and each one is responsible for it. Since we have brought about this catastrophe, each one of us is responsible and must confront it. That is what is called bringing about a new way of thinking, a new way of looking and therefore it is important to realize how extraordinarily vital is an individual at the present time. Please differentiate between the individual and individualistic action. Individualistic action takes place when the individual acts as a part and not as a whole. That is, when he is thinking in terms of power, greed and position, then he is acting individualistically. This has led to this crisis, and when he acts as a whole being, that is, individually, then such an action has immense significance. We will discuss this as we go along, every Sunday. What I want to do this evening is more or less briefly and simply to put to you in resume the formulation of some of these ideas. So, as I say, since the individual is confused, you are confused. Since you as an individual are confused you are bound to spread confusion. Your State, your Government, your Religion, each one of these is bound to be confused because you are the State and you bring about your Society. The Society is the relationship between two individuals and that Society that is produced shares the greed, the lust for power and all the rest of it. So the confusion is in us and it projects itself in action into the world and we create the world crisis. After all war is only an outward and spectacular result of our daily life. So, if we do not transform our daily life and bear responsibility for it, not superficially but fundamentally, really and profoundly, we cannot escape from this chaos that is coming. And therefore, for me, the importance of the individual is supreme, but not as the individual in opposition to Society, in opposition to the whole. I think we should be very clear about this point. When we regard the individual and his function in society we have to consider the individual as a whole and not only the individual's activity which may be antisocial. It is a worldwide problem and it is exactly the same in America, in Europe and Damascus. I heard two Syrians talking about this problem in French in the same way as you and I talk here. Because you and I have brought about this catastrophe, we should be responsible for it, because no leader, no guru, no politician, no teacher is going to save us. Since the problem is vital and is constantly undergoing change, no formulae can solve it. So what is required is right thinking. Right thinking is not a formula. It is not based on any system. Right thinking can only take place when there is self-knowledge, that is, when the individual understands his total position and that is where we will find the greatest difficulty. To understand something requires an intensity, an unnatural intellectual intensity. Your approach is going to be the most difficult job as you are not used to thinking as a whole but only used to thinking compartmentally. So right thinking seems to me to be the solution for the present chaos and right thinking cannot come either through any formula or through following anybody. Right thinking can only take place through self-knowledge, that is, knowing yourself. To know yourself you have to study yourself. If one is to understand oneself he must cease to condemn. If you understand something you must not compare it with something else. You must study it by itself. If you would understand it you must not judge or condemn or identify yourself with it. If you would understand and if you condemn, surely you would put a stop to understanding altogether. If you would understand yourself the whole process being physiological as well as psychological we must approach it without condemnation which is an extraordinarily difficult task. I do not know if you have ever tried it or experimented with it yourself, to see how far you can understand yourself. The religious person will state that he is god, and the extreme left-winger that he is nothing but a set of reactions. Therefore they have reached conclusions and stopped all real thinking; their actions are not based on right thinking and therefore not resulting from self-knowledge. Self-knowledge is not possible if there is any sense of condemnation or identification. In other words, relationship with one or with the many is a process of self-revolu-tion through self-knowledge. And it is only right thinking which can create a new set of values which will completely, supersede the false set of values, not by replacing old values with new formulae, but with the values that you have discovered and which were not handed down to you by a guru, by a political leader, by a swami, by this or that person, values that you have through your self-awareness discovered. It is in the present there is right thinking and that is going to solve the world-chaos and that means you have to withdraw from the base and become a centre of right thinking. Surely this is what has happened always in those moments, in those times when the world had to face such crises. There were a few who, seeing the confusion and the impossibility of altering that catastrophe, withdrew and formed groups. Who is going to take the trouble nowadays to settle down and very seriously think of the whole problem? Those who study, study by a formula, limited by conditioning. But there are very few who study the chaos without a system, without being conditioned and it is they who are going to save, because they will be the creators and I hope that during these coming weeks it will be possible for us to be really serious, to discover this creative thinking, which is the real discovery of truth, but this creation cannot be formulated. What is creation? Deep meditation and self-abnegation, as it is to most of us? Because we create an image and live in that image that is not God. We invite Reality, but Reality cannot be invited. It must come. To let it come there must be the right feeling, that is, mind must put away all the things that it knows, which is an enormously difficult task and without that reality, whatever action we do on the precipice is futile. So it is my intention, during my talks, to consider with those who are really serious and help them to experience directly this creative reality. To do that we shall have to arrange discussions every other day here between 7:30 in the morning and 9.00. But what is important in these talks and discussions is to be really earnest, because earnestness is not a matter created, a matter of environmental cause. Then earnestness becomes merely transient. But if we realize this chaos, misery and appalling suffering, it will make us serious. And it is this seriousness and earnestness that are required, to solve this problem. I have been given two or three questions and I shall try to answer them. Question: The communist believes that on guaranteeing food, clothing and shelter to every individual and abolishing private property a state can be created in which we can live happily. What do you say about it? Krishnamurti: I wonder what you would say? I also wonder whether you have ever thought about this problem. it will be extraordinarily interesting to find out what you would think about it. it is your problem also because we do need clothes, food and shelter. We need to organize that on a world-scale not just on a communal scale, which means we need people who are not thinking in terms of nationalism etc., but thinking in terms of man. Not in terms of formulae but in terms of human happiness, and not as the people that have and the people that have not. There are millions and millions without any food, clothing and shelter not only in this country, but in Germany, in America and all over the world, and the communist says that we have the means to solve this problem and that is your responsibility to do. Those of you who believe in God, in religion, what is your response? You must have a reply? Since all of you cannot reply I have to go on. Obviously we have to organize a world-pool of food, clothing and shelter so that every human being in the world has enough, and I assure you it can be done, if scientists devote their time to it. They are at present interested only in destroying each other, in the discovery of the atomic power. So if there are means to produce enough food, enough shelter, enough clothing for al human beings, why is it not possible? Because each one wants to be at the head of distribution. Each nation wants to be at the top. Surely, it is so simple to organize for the whole of man whether American, Hindu or any other, enough clothing and shelter but that is prevented by greed and when we are capable of getting rid of greed we can organize it. But it is not so simple. Life is much more complex than distributing to the few or organizing for the many. In the organizing for the many, the psychological, the hidden factors come into being and therefore life is not dependent on `bread alone' but on a much greater factor that controls bread. `We do not live by bread alone'. We live by far deeper psychological factors which must be taken into account before we can organize and bring about a change not based upon any formula. What is required is to understand these new psychological factors which are brought into being and which transform our lives. And so man does not live by bread alone but by deeper factors and if we do not study those deeper factors and understand them it is impossible to organize the distribution of food, clothing and shelter for all. So where do we lay the emphasis? Surely that is an important question. Is it on bread or on those subtle hidden factors which dominate and are capable of organizing for bread. Where is your emphasis? Obviously in a man who is really wanting to provide food, clothes or shelter and not merely on an amazing formula or creed. it is surely the psychological factor that is more important than bread. I am not laying down anything dogmatically. We can discuss this during the coming several weeks. But if we merely adhered to the formula with all its implications, then as has been over and over again proved by history, it would be futile. After all what is the State? What is Government? it represents the relationship of individuals. If our relationship is based on greed, competition etc., we will have Government that will represent us. This is an obviously simple fact. You need not read history to find this out. And if we do not lay emphasis on the right issue but are merely carried away by issues of secondary importance, how can we succeed? To lay emphasis on something that is of secondary importance rather than on the major issues is to produce confusion and perhaps that is the interest of those who want to gain power. So in order to bring about a happy state for man, that is, for you and me, and since we do not live by bread alone, we have to understand the psychological factors, the complexities that exist in each one of us; and we must free ourselves from such conditioning as greed for power. Without understanding all this, to organize for bread becomes impossible. So without transformation of the individual there will be no happiness for man and if you are not willing to change, then surely you have vested interests in religion, in property, in ideals and so on. Since you have vested interests and since you cannot be shaken, the extreme left winger says `destroy them'. What is important in all this is, to take each problem as a whole, not as a part, and try to solve the problem. In part you can never find the solution but you can find the solution only by understanding the problem as a whole. Question: Mahatma Gandhi and others believe that the time has come when men of goodwill, the just, the wise men should join together to organize to fight the present crisis. Are you not escaping from this duty as most of our spiritual leaders are doing? Krishnamurti: It is obviously necessary that men of goodwill all over the world should come together. That goes without saying. But how can they come together. We want to do something fundamentally and also peacefully. Our function is to do something because we are good at heart. But individually the good at heart have also formulae. They want to act in a certain way and then we begin. Then we find we cannot get on. Men of goodwill should not have formulae. They should be above formulae and not be part of any system. And that is where we find the difficulty. First of all I do not believe in leadership. I think the very idea of leading somebody is antisocial, anti-spiritual, and with that idea I wish to explain my position. First of all, as I said during the talk, any action on the edge of the precipice will only create further confusion for the very reason that we are at the edge of the precipice, that we are confused. And action out of confusion cannot produce good results but will only further the confusion. So what we can do is to move away from the confusion, that is, the confusion within ourselves. And that is what I am doing; moving away from confusion, political, spiritual, psychological and helping those who want to withdraw from that confusion. But in order to understand the confusion they must look at it and it requires enormous thinking. Surely such a person is not an escapist. How can you act when you yourself are in confusion? How can you bring about clarity if you are blind and how can you lead anybody? When a man realizes that he is blind and confused he should first free himself from confusion and from those bondages which are binding and blinding him. To act without the clarification is to create further misery and the idea of following is really very important. The idea of having a leader should be really understood. We have been led, socially, economically, religiously by our leaders. You may ask negatively: but for them, what would have been our condition? Is it not an important question to ask? is it not the fact that we are being led which shows our incapacity to think for ourselves, to live rightly for ourselves. We depend on somebody to tell us how to act, how to think, in other words our system of upbringing is based on what to think and not how to think and hence we need leaders. And I assure you the present chaos does not demand new leaders. It does demand something totally different, that is, for each individual to become a light to himself and not be dependent on somebody else. And that requires great effort and understanding on the part of each one of us. So, men of goodwill are many in the world. If you really come down to facts you and I are men of goodwill at moments. We want to live peacefully in the world. But so many influences and conditions have overpowered us and it is from these we have to free ourselves. That depends naturally on each one of us and not on somebody else. So, that means that men of goodwill must also be free from conditioning, from nationalistic and communalistic ideals. They must cease to be nationalistic. They must cease to think as Brahmins, Muslims, Christians and so on. They must have no definite formula. For that is what is preventing us from coming together. If you are a Hindu you want to express your goodwill within the framework of Hinduism and where will that lead you? The same applies to the Christian, the Mussalman and so on. And therefore we are back to the whole problem which is much more difficult than it appears superficially. By all means men of goodwill should come together. But they do not unfortunately, because they all have the conditioning which society has imposed upon them and that is why I am saying that we should free ourselves from those conditionings and think in new terms. And it is for you to begin and not for the leader or the men of goodwill. It is you who have to live with your neighbour and not the leader. So in all these questions what is important, it seems to me, is the primary issue; we must not be confused with secondary problems. The primary issue is you and not somebody else. Because we have given ourselves over to the guru, to the political leader, to a theory, we have created in ourselves a state of confusion. Because one theory can be superseded by another theory and one leader can supersede another leader, we get confused. The intellectuals have failed. Their theories have also failed and if we depend on leaders we shall only plunge further into misery and drag humanity too with us. To resist the absurdities of leadership is extraordinarily difficult because we are lazy and because we hope somebody else will solve the problem. So it is important for us to realize the fact that not someone else but we are responsible for this misery and no leader can transform it. To understand this, requires extraordinary effort but we waste our energies in such absurd ways that we cannot tackle the problem fully and completely. Question: Young men have said to me again and again: We are frustrated, we do not know what we are to do in the present crisis. Our leaders are unable to lead us as they are themselves confused. We expected so much from political independence and from the settlement with the Muslim league. Krishnamurti: There are so many questions involved in this question. So one has to take them one by one. First of all: `we are frustrated'. You know the meaning of frustration. You want something and you cannot get it and you feel lost and you feel that you have been prevented from getting it. You want to get a job and cannot get it and you feel frustrated. You want to marry a woman and you cannot do that and you feel frustrated, prevented or held back. I want to have power and position and I am thwarted and I feel lost, and a wall has arisen between me and that which I want to gain. Before you say that you feel frustrated you must find out if ever you are in a position when you are not frustrated. As it is, you get all you want, yet you want something more. So there is constant frustration. It is constant because of emptiness, because you feel empty, economically, psychologically and spiritually empty. You think you can fill that emptiness by getting what you want. But if you examine very closely you will find that you can never fill that emptiness. We have tried to, by much study, by science, through various means of destruction, by pursuing gurus. But as you cannot fill that void you feel frustrated. That is a psychological fact. Now what is this emptiness? Have you ever examined it? To understand it you must cease trying to fill it. It is like a man filling a bucket with a hole in it. It is always leaking and it can never be filled and you will say that such a man is unbalanced. In this problem itself is the answer and not away from it. So, if we understood the process of frustration and its implications, the questions could be answered comparatively simply. Our leaders are unable to lead us; we expected so much from political independence, and from the settlement with the Muslim League. We come back to the same problem. Who creates the leader? You create him, because you want somebody to tell you what to do. Because we are too lazy to think out what we want, and always like to be told by another. Psychologically he becomes your master and because you are confused he is also confused. So out of our confusion we project. When the leader is confused we blame him. We do not blame ourselves but only blame somebody else. We expected so much from the settlement with the Muslim League. Do you mean to say that through separation you can find any solution? You may get better jobs. it is like this. Once you allow war, which is the major evil, minor evils will follow. Once you admit division between peoples, between groups, between Brahmins and the rest, you create further confusion, and a settlement based on divisions of people is no solution at all. This has been proved over and over again through history, and still we are doing it. So when you look at all these problems of distribution of food, of men of goodwill and of frustration, you will see that they are all closely interrelated. We have not seen the interrelationship, because we have tried to solve each problem separately on its own level. The only solution to conflict and confusion is after all Truth which liberates. To let Reality or Truth come to you, you have to be free from bondages. Not only from the subtle bondages and the obvious ones, but also from nationalism, communalism etc. If we work at this we will bring about clarity in ourselves. October 22 1947 MADRAS 2ND PUBLIC TALK 26TH OCTOBER, 1947 We have got a very difficult subject in understanding ourselves. As we have got a very difficult subject to deal with it requires a great deal of patience and we must not jump to conclusions. It requires a great deal of study and patient understanding, a careful analysis and a sense of detachment, which is not intellectual detachment, but actual observation. So, if you are willing we will undertake this journey together to understand this problem of life and while on that journey let us discover together. My interest would be to think together. But as there are many here, it is impossible to exchange ideas, to discuss them, but I will try in these coming talks every Sunday to answer as many questions as possible so that I do not leave one stone unturned, and by that means, you and I can see this whole complex problem which we call life. So, in making this journey let us not condemn or come to any definite conclusion, which you will towards the end, but not yet. Because we are too close to the problem, we do not know yet how to observe. Because we are too close to the problems such as poverty, the war that is coming, etc., we are incapable of real observation, and real study and understanding. So let us not jump to conclusions. I am only going to paint a picture, which though I paint it, is also yours, because you are dealing with life, the life which is in Europe, in Russia, in Japan, in chaotic China or in the somewhat orderly America. We deal with the whole of it and if we are to deal with it sanely, there must be no conclusion as the moment we conclude we put a stop to thinking. I am not here to give you ideas but on the contrary, I am here to discuss together with you if we can, seriously and earnestly the problem of living. We are too much accustomed to listening to leaders and to discussions, and therefore it is unfortunate that it is difficult for us to discuss without jumping to conclusions or trying to find out what are the inner motives of the speaker. I have no inner motive but I want to state something which is yours, not mine, and I want to describe something which is true. As life is not merely one phase, let us not at any time approach it through any exclusive path, either the intellectual, or the emotional. Because by emphasizing one phase or one path, we will not have the whole picture, and you and I are trying to understand the whole picture. If we have a canvas in front of us with a picture, if we merely study one corner of it, surely we will miss the whole picture. If you are an economist and view life from the economic point of view you will miss the whole picture. The same is true if you are a socialist or a communist or a capitalist, etc. So even though you are specialized in philosophy, economy or law, etc., put them aside for the moment at least because in that problem and not merely in a part of it lies the solution. The more we specialize the more we are going to destroy ourselves. It is a biological fact. Animals that have specialized have perished. So, similarly, as our problem is not a specialized problem let us look at it from every point of view. There are only very few who can look at the canvas and get the whole significance of the picture and it is they who are the real saviours and not the specialists. As I was saying, life is a very complex problem and a very complex problem must naturally be approached very simply. Take for example a child which is a very complex entity; yet to understand a child our mind should be very simple. If you see a beautiful picture or a lovely sunset if you are comparing them with other pictures or sunsets, you won't understand the picture or the sunset. Similarly life is very complex and it involves actual thinking, feeling, earning one's livelihood, relationship, search for truth, etc. So to understand life we must have an extraordinarily simple mind, not an innocent one, a very simple mind that sees directly everything as it is and not translated according to what it wants. This is one of our difficulties: to approach the complex problem of life simply. To understand and to approach simply, we have naturally to ask ourselves this question: what is our relationship to this problem, this chaos and this degradation that we see about us, where man is against man, ideas against another set of ideas, where despair is prevailing? Perhaps you do not know about this despair. In Europe they feel it vitally because they see how everything has failed: education, religion, one system after another has collapsed. So, how do you regard this chaos, this frightful confusion? How would you set about to bring order out of this chaos? Where would you begin? Obviously with yourselves because your relationship with the chaos is direct. Let us not blame a few insane leaders. Because you and I have created this chaos, to bring order we must begin with our house, with our- selves. We are not to begin with a system; we are not to begin with an idea; we are not to begin with a revolution; we are not to begin with a theory; we must begin with ourselves, because we are responsible for ourselves. Without us there is no world and so we are the world and we are the problem, which is not an intellectual theory but a fact. So do not rush to put it aside, which is usually one of our escapes, one of our clever means of getting out of it. Because when we deal with it so directly, what we feel and what we do is of vital significance and because we are unwilling to face it we say `get on'. As it is an irrefutable fact that we are the world and we have created the mess, it is through us alone that the salvation lies and not through something else and that is the basis of what I am going to say about the whole problem. Because the problem is not external to you; to understand it you have to understand yourself. Though it sounds very simple it is extremely complex. If everyone in the world would observe decently and kindly without condemnation and exploitation, there would be peace in the world. So the problem is your responsibility, a responsibility you have shirked; the moment you recognize that you are in the mess you have to act positively and vigorously but we do not want to act positively, therefore we look to a leader and to a system. So in my talks and discussions the only starting point and the only essential point is you. For several reasons we have overshadowed our responsibility, it has been put away, discharged, hidden, dispelled or submerged. This chaos is the result of systems whether the capitalistic, the socialistic, the communistic or the brahminic. That is, we have systems and formulae and they are more important to us than the individual. If we will observe still further we will find that organized society, in which we include education, religion, etc., has smothered our individual responsibility. You believe and your belief is merely a condition imposed upon you because it gratifies you and gives you security in society, factually, psychologically and abstractively. So, when you believe, your individual responsibility is taken away and you are working just like a machine. When society becomes more important the importance of bureaucracy becomes overwhelming. Take the example of a political party. When you join it you become a party-machine. You want to dominate, you want to put your ideas through. So the party, the organization, the system become much more important than you and yet you do not realize it. Again take the case of education. I do not know why we are educated. What does it all mean? What is the purpose of education? You become lawyers, mathematicians, chemical engineers and so on. You are educated to be something and therefore you cease to be the individual who is responsible, but you are specialized. The more we are educated the more conditioned we are. The more we read the more we repeat. "Teach the people how to read and then we will have no revolution" is a famous saying. With education we have the regimentation through the Army, the Navy, the Police, etc. So these are the many factors which make us unconscious of our responsibility. We all function as machines because as we are members of a party or group, we have no responsibility. So in order to transform this chaos and darkness we have to start with ourselves and not with the machine, because, psychologically you are always the master of the machine or the system. So we shall start from this point: you are the only person that matters and not the society because your relationship with one another is the society. What you think, what you feel, what you do is of the utmost importance because you create the society and the environment. I will now answer some of the questions sent to me. I do not prepare beforehand the answers to these questions. Generally I do not even like to look at them in advance as I wish to answer directly and so I am not choosing what I want to answer. The question will receive the right answer if the questioner is serious in his intentions. If you merely ask an intellectual question to trap me you may trap me but you will lose out. But if you ask really seriously, you will find that there is a serious answer. Question: What is the kind of thinking needed today to live in peace? At the same time could you show a way by which millions of unemployed people can lead a life without starvation. Krishnamurti: To have peace you must live peacefully. Property is one of the causes of contention. To own things, whether through control of property by which you gain more and more or through relationship with ideas, will create contention. So if you want peace you must live without greed, because greed leads to nationalism and it is a factor which divides people. From greed we come to envy and a desire to possess. All these create competition between man and man. Organized religion is also one of the factors that separate man from man for we say we are Christians, Hindus, etc. You believe and I do not believe and therefore there is contention. You want to convert me and I think my religion is much better than yours, nearer the supreme. So to have peace in the world, which is very essential now, we must be peaceful. You cannot have peace through communalism. You cannot have peace through intelligence whether it is the intelligence of the Brahmin or of one of another caste or of the American or of the German. To have peace in the world we must cease to be greedy. To have peace in the world we must cease to be a Brahmin, a Hindu, a Muslim or an Englishman and so on. All the divisions have to be dropped because you and I are one biologically. When this is done we can feed the starving millions. If not, we will be wrangling to find out which is the better system, or the best set of ideas. So the starving man is left out. This does not mean that we should not organize to feed the many, the one. One has to think in terms of the world. The scientist can be put to work to feed, clothe and provide shelter for everybody. But scientists are also nationalists like you and me. If you are spreading this poison of separatism you are also contributing to this disaster. Separatism not only economically but psychologically as well; the organized separatism of religion or societies, etc. If you really felt that they are wrong, would you not stop them and thereby bring about a different world tomorrow? Nobody is worried about what is going to happen five hundred years hence. I want to be fed tomorrow, immediately and you could provide food, clothing and shelter if we all acted immediately. But unfortunately the crisis is far away from most of us or at least we think it is far away and therefore we are not faced with it. Nobody is going to give you peace, certainly not God, because we are not worthy of it. We have made this mess and we have to get out of it and we cannot get out of it through any system. Question: More things are wrought by prayer than this world dreams of. Mahatma Gandhi has wonderfully exemplified its efficacy in his daily life. If individuals without distraction and materialistic aggrandizement lift their hearts to God in penitent prayer, then the mercy of God will dispel the catastrophe that has overtaken the world. Is this not the right attitude to develop? Krishnamurti: We must differentiate between prayer and meditation. What do we mean by prayer? Generally it means supplication or petition. You demand, beg, or ask from what you call God, something which you want. To put it plainly it means that you are in need and you pray. You are in suffering and you pray. You are mentally confused and you pray. That is, you petition or you supplicate somebody to tell you what to do. To whom are you praying? You say to God. But surely God or Truth is something unknown and which cannot be formulated. If you say I know God it is no longer God. God and Truth are not created. it must come to you and you cannot go to it and ask. When you ask you are creating it and therefore it ceases to be God or Truth. So before you ask, you must know whether you want peace from God, that is, Truth. When you yourself create this chaos in this world you look to another for help. So God cannot give you peace, because it is your fabrication. What is the good of praying? Is not then prayer an escape? Please do not bring personalities into it. Let us think about it directly. It does not matter who prays. Once a person in America came to see me and he said that he had prayed to God to give him a refrigerator and he said that he had the refrigerator. But you pay for it in the end. If you want peace you will have it, but it will not be peace, it will only be decay, stagnation and regimentation. Peace is something very dynamic which is creative and you cannot have something creative through supplication. But prayer is completely different from meditation. A man who prays can never understand what is meditation, because he is concerned with gain. Meditation is a process of understanding. Understanding is not a result and it is not something you gain. It is a process of self-discovery. That means meditation is an awareness of your whole process of living. Meditation is a process of understanding, the process of your whole being, not only a part of it, and that means that you have to be aware of everything that you are doing. it is not concentration. You take a picture and you focus your attention on that. That is comparatively easy. That is exclusive, you exclude all thoughts and you focus your attention on one point. Surely that is not meditation. Meditation is an awareness constantly becoming deeper and deeper as a result of clearly seeing through the many layers of consciousness. It is like a pool that is still when the process is over. When the problem ceases through awareness the solution becomes stillness. It cannot be made quiet. So prayer, concentration, meditation, are entirely different things and he who prays can never know what meditation is; neither he who concentrates can ever know what meditation is. For meditation is spontaneous and therefore it requires spontaneity and not a regimented mind. Spontaneity comes into being when there is awareness, awareness in which there is no condemnation, no judgment and no identification. If you go deeper and deeper and let it flow freely it becomes meditation, in which the thinker is the thought and there is no division between the thinker and the thought. Question: You deride the Brahmins. Have they not played an important part in the culture of India. Krishnamurti: Perhaps they have. But what of it? Surely such a question indicates hereditary pride. Does it not? It is like saying that I was something marvellous in my past incarnation but now I am a boot-black. This idea that you are the exclusive race of Brahmins, this idea that you have a master-creed which cannot be handed down, is detrimental to society. So what matters is not whether you are a Brahmin or not, but what you are now, not what you were in the past. Originally every society in the world had a group of people who were devoted to something real. You call them Brahmins, somebody else calls them Hebrews, Christians, and so on. But what they were essentially concerned with was the pursuit of the real, irrespective of what the society around was doing. By what name they are called does not matter. it is they who gave to society, culture, and not the people who were embroiled in society whether politicians, lawyers or warmongers. These do not make society, they do not make culture, but the people who really preach culture are those who are peaceful and not the politicians. So in the past there were such people who were not concerned with ambition, with power, with position, with property, with systems. Not only here but right through the world. There were few who were not concerned, here, and in China there were large groups, and practically everywhere throughout history. And here now, what has happened to the hereditary Brahmins, who are supposed to guide society, to help man to think rightly? They have become merchants, they have become lawyers, they have become politicians. Do you think culture can exist on that kind of basis? On a structure that is really destructive to men? So, what matters is, not the past, but the result of the past which is the present. To understand the past you have to look through the present, psychologically and factually. The present is the passage of the past to the future. If you do not change in the present, the future will be biased, which means chaos. So we are concerned with the present, not with the Brahmins of old times who were concerned with something far greater than merely grabbing for money, for position, and coding up systems. So since the present is of the highest importance, what are we doing? In what way are we changing ourselves and guiding culture, not Indian culture or Christian culture, but human culture. It is only by setting up peaceful thinking in daily life that we can realize Truth. There is a responsibility for those who are not themselves immediately concerned with food, clothing, and shelter. It is your responsibility to ensure food and clothing for the naked and the starving; instead you are intellectually indulging in verbiage. You must completely shed your opinions and that means revolution in your mind. Question: You have attained illumination, but what about us, the millions? Krishnamurti: So, what about you? You and I are the millions, but are we aware of it? The moment we are in despair, we are confused, but who can save us, not the illumined, I assure you, not the leader, not the church, not the temple, not the politician. You are the only person who can save yourself and none other. it is like a man who is in sorrow. If he is unaware of his sorrow, he goes to another and talks about saving the world. If he is aware of his sorrow, of his constant loneliness, emptiness, strife, pains, struggle, then he begins with himself, and he is not concerned about who is illumined, and who is not illumined. He is concerned with his own transformation, with his own regeneration, and that is what matters, not the leader, not the follower, but you; because you yourself are the mass, the life; and life is painful and you feel anxious when you do not understand it, but you can understand it only through yourself, and not through another. October 26, 1947 MADRAS 3RD PUBLIC TALK 2ND NOVEMBER, 1947 I would like to continue from where I left off last Sunday. Perhaps those of you who have followed the discussions, those who have followed what I have been saying seriously, will remember that I was trying to show the relationship between the individual and society. How society having been created by the individual smothers the individual through systems, through organizations, through religion and so on. I would like to continue from where I left off because I think it is very important to realize not only verbally but really very seriously and profoundly, the relationship between the individual and society, as well as the transformation of society and the regeneration of the individual. There is hope in man, not in society, not in systems, organized religious systems, but in you, and in me. I think this is fairly obvious. We must try to know what is happening in the world and not merely accept a formula, a system because there is no hope in them. So it is very important to realize the relationship between the individual and society. Is not society the result of one individual's relationship with another? Your relationship with another creates the society which in turn brings into being the State. The State by itself is not a separate entity. It is the outcome of your relationship with others. So it is from society that State comes into being. Though you assert that relationship is based on brotherhood, love and religious ideas and so on, if you really analyze it very carefully and deeply you will see that it is based on sensate values, that is, the relationship is the product of sensory values, values made either by the hand or by the mind. Sensory values are not eternal values. That we shall discuss presently. So the relationship based on sensory values has produced in the world, wars, catastrophes, the chaos which you see throughout the world. This relationship between you and another has bred individual enterprise, and opposed to that there has come into being collective action. If you examine both, you will see that society is based on sensory values; whether of the right or of the left it is ultimately based on sensory values; and neither the right nor the left has brought happiness to man. That is, whether it is organized society of the left or of the right, man's happiness has not come into being. Man is in despair, confused and in sorrow. So the problem is this, does man's happiness - thought, action, mind - does it lie in sensate values upon which our society, either of the left or of the right is based? Though the right produces religion, worship, etc., yet if you look at it very deeply, you will see that ultimately it denies man's happiness because it produces wars, regimentation and an education that merely shows you what to think, not how to think; yet surely the organized society of the left also denies man's happiness because it is regimented. So, does man's happiness, the happiness which is yours and mine, does it lie in things made by the hand and by the mind? And this is what we are all going to discover, through self-knowledge; it is you, and not somebody else who is going to tell you where your happiness lies. Your creative being, creative activity and your joys and your happiness are in sensory values. Through self-knowledge we can discover what is the truth and right happiness and whether our happiness lies in things made by the hand and by the mind. Now, what is self-knowledge? Surely it cannot be learned through books. Surely it is not the assertion of another. You have to know the total process of your whole being, that is, to be aware of everything that you are - thoughts, feeling and action. Being aware, not by becoming aware, of what you are, that is the very beginning of self-knowledge. Without self-knowledge I do not see how there can be any thinking at all. Since you are the world and your relationship with another is society, without a revolutionary change in you there can be no hope. How to understand yourself is of primary importance. "Transform society" is one of our catchphrases, an easy assertion, that we must do something about the world as though the world were so different from ourselves. We have created this horror, these wars, this mad chaos in the world at the present time and we cannot transform it if we do not know how to think about the problem. We cannot think about the problem unless we are aware of it. And you cannot be aware of it outside of yourself. You have created this, therefore you should become aware of yourselves and not of others. Therefore the confusion has to be cleared within your mind, which does not mean you must wait till all the confusion in yourself is cleared before you act. So the problem of which we are well aware is how to transform the world, to bring happiness, to bring order, to bring peace. It must begin with us, that is with you and me, not merely by saying `I must begin', but in action, by becoming aware of what we are doing, of all the process and the repetition of ideas, and the absurdities in which we sometimes indulge, our class and communal divisions, national and racial divisions. All that has to be altered, has it not, before there can be fundamental changes in the world? And I do not think we realize what an extraordinary crisis this is. As I have said in my previous talks, it is not an ordinary economic crisis but an extraordinary crisis. A crisis like this happens only very rarely and we are all confronted with one of the rarest of catastrophes and confusions. And we all are approaching it with formulae, with systems, which is only blind thinking, whether the system is of the right or of the left. What we need is a complete revolution in thought, that is, in values and you cannot create values except by awakening the individual, not the individual in opposition to the mass. And as the individual's awakening is limited by narrow prejudicial activities, he cannot transform or regenerate himself, that is, the mass, and that can only be done by becoming aware of yourself, of whatever you do from the least important to the most profound. If you are not aware you must find out why you are not aware. When you walk down the streets you are aware of the poverty of the people, of the ill-fed families and of the utter callousness of everyone. But we have created this, you and I have created what is about us. it has not come into being by some mysterious charm, and since we are not aware of it how can we transform it? Surely that is the obvious beginning. Is it not? It looks simple and yet the most profound beginning is to begin with ourselves, which is the most difficult. We can always reform others, but it is very difficult to transform ourselves. (Laughter). I know, Sirs, you laugh and that laughter has very little significance, it does not mean very much. I know that to most of us life has very little significance. We are all trying to solve the world's problem. What is happening in the Punjab, has happened in Germany. What is happening is a slow process of regimentation, even in England which has stood for the liberty of the individual. We are not aware of what is happening in America and China. You read about all of this because unfortunately it is one of our pet habits to read papers. We have become so dull and I think that is where our difficulty lies. We must revivify and quicken our whole sensitivity but you cannot be sensitive by merely saying that you must be sensitive. You become sensitive, when you become aware of yourself in action, in thought and in feeling. Surely hope or God, or whatever name you like to give it is to be found not in religion, not in systems but in trying to discover truth in every little thing. Truth is not far away but very near, only if we knew how to look for it, but we do not look for it because we are not aware. So what is of primary importance is to be aware, so choicelessly, so penetratingly aware of every thought, every feeling that is revealed. Question: In a recent article by a famous correspondent it was stated that wisdom and personal example do not solve the world's problem. What do you say? Krishnamurti: As there are many things involved in this particular question we must analyses it carefully. First of all we are persuaded or told what to think by famous correspondents, because correspondents, like you, have axes to grind. So, being very clever and good at words the correspondent writes and we read because we are educated, and what we read becomes the truth. We have stopped thinking but we absorb and so, famous correspondents become very important in our daily activities, also what they think and what they do. First of all we should be aware of everything; one has to be extremely alert, not to absorb other people's ideas and demands. The correspondent says that wisdom and personal examples are not enough to solve the world's problem. Neither do I think wisdom and personal example will save the world. The correspondent asks invariably for political action either of the left or of the right, based on a certain set of ideals, religious, economic or social. Now, what does personal example mean? invariably it leads to imitation. You have an ideal and you conform to it and naturally conformity, imitation, regimentation of thought can never solve the world's problems. Therefore personal example in a great crisis becomes of very little significance. Wisdom cannot be realized through personal example. Wisdom is a thing that is living, real and constantly moving. It is not in a fixed place; it is not learned through books. What is necessary at the present time is not example, but revolution in thinking, creative thinking. And that revolution cannot take place or be gained by following a few leaders. It can only be gained through you, the individual. So neither personal example, nor political action based on a system or on an authority is going to save the world. That has been tried over and over again. Man puts his faith in a system, in the party, in a leader and each one of these has invariably failed. We merely returned to the exploitation of man in a different form, in different degrees, on a different level. Whether the State exploits man or man exploits man is all the same. The problem is not solved by the State or by examples. The problem is our problem, because we no longer think creatively, but are following patterns, in a regimented way. We have brought about this world chaos and therefore personal example can never save mankind. So there must be a creative revolution in thinking and that is extremely difficult. And because it is difficult we look to somebody else, to the example, to the leader. What do I mean by creative thinking? Do we think at all or do we merely respond to a certain set of conditions? Is that thinking? Because you are a Hindu, you are conditioned in a certain manner or if a Muslim, a Buddhist, or what ever it be, your response is to that particular conditioning. Surely that is not thinking. You have a certain conditioning and you respond to that. You think that you are thinking. There can be revolution in thinking only when the man is free from conditioning, not only the conscious conditioning, but the many layers of consciousness in which conditioning exists and to become liberated from that conditioning is revolutionary thinking. And that means you have to cease to be a Brahmin or a Muslim or a Hindu or a Christian. You have to transcend all fallacies, class divisions and that is the problem now. I know you will easily agree with me in all this. You will shake your head in assent. You will probably come next Sunday and the many following Sundays and yet you will go on in the same routine because you are conditioned. If you do change, what will your neighbours say! You might even lose your job and therefore you will go on shaking your head and the world will go on more and more miserably and you will go on talking about changing the world. So the start is not in the world of which you are unaware, but in you. The world's problem can be solved if you are aware of the catastrophe and the misery in yourself, the confusion which exists in you and therefore in the world. Political action is comparatively easy. To organize the distribution of food for mankind is comparatively easy. There is a need to clothe man, shelter him and give him food. We all know that. Every school boy knows it. But what is the result? It is merely book knowledge. Because the boy is conditioned, because he cannot free himself from his conditioning, it remains merely book knowledge without action. That is why, we must break through our conditioning and all the degradations, the degenerative qualities that exist. I assure you that is the only way out, and that also means that personal examples are of very little significance in a world crisis of this kind, but what is of the highest importance is what you are, your thinking, your feeling, your action now. Question: What do you mean when you say that we use the present as a passage. Krishnamurti: Last Sunday I said that we use the present as a passage to the future. We use the present as a means of achieving some result, whether it is a psychological result or a personal result, changing oneself to become something. We use the present as a means of the past for the future, that is, to answer the question, the present is the result of the past. Surely that is obvious. What you think is based on the past, your being is founded on the past. Now thought without understanding the past, goes through the present into the future. So the future is the past continuing through the present, and it is the result of the past, it can only be understood through the present. The psycho - analysts look to the past to find difficulties, the conditioning, the complex, and so on. But to understand the past, the present which is the past must be understood. That is, through the present is the past. Past is not unrelated to the present. So to understand the past the door is the present, which is also the door to the future. That is, to understand the significance of the past the present must be understood and not sacrificed for the future. There are political groups of the left and also of the right who say: "Sacrifice the present for the future. It does not matter what happens to man in the present but we will lead him to a marvellous future." As though they knew what the future is going to be! This idea of sacrificing the present for the future has thus led man to disaster, to chaos and misery. Religious people also use the present as a passage to the future. That is, you say: "ln my next incarnation I will do something, but nothing now. Give me a chance." That is sacrificing the present, surely. Surely eternity is the present, the timeless is now and to understand the timeless you cannot approach it through time. Yet, you are using time, that is, the past, the present and the future as a means of realizing the immeasurable, the timeless. So one must be aware of what this political fallacy of sacrificing the present for the future is, and one must be aware also of this idea that the future is different from the present. If you do not change now you will never change. Because you are continuing the present, understanding, wisdom is in the present not in the future. Wisdom is being, which is the present, which is now, and the present can be understood when the mind understands the past and thus becomes psychologically aware of the whole content of our being now, of what you are now and therefore to understand the now, you must look to the past, because your thought is based on the past. Surely that is obvious, is it not? You cannot think without the past and to understand the past, examine what you are now, be aware of what you are now and becoming aware of what you are now, you will see we are using the present as a passage to get somewhere, interpreting the present and knowing its significance conditioned by the past. So if you use time as a means to the timeless you will never find the timeless because the means creates the end. If you use wrong means you will produce the wrong end. War is a wrong means to peace and while we are talking of peace, nations are preparing for war. The means is the end and the end is not dissociated from the means. So if you would understand the timeless, what is bound in time, that is, the past, the present and the future, must free itself and that is extremely arduous. It demands constant awareness of every thought and every feeling and becoming aware how it is conditioned, how it is caught up in us. Question: The communists say that the rulers of Indian states, the zamindars and the capitalists are the chief exploiters of the nation and they should be liquidated in order to secure food, clothing and shelter for all. Mahatma Gandhi says that the rulers, zamindars and the capitalists are the trustees of the persons under their control and influence and therefore they may be allowed to remain and function. What do you say? Krishnamurti: It is extremely confusing, what is happening in the world. We give more importance to what other people say, and do not mind what we think. It is really odd. Wherever you go, in America, in England, and even in Damascus and here, you are fully acquainted with what everyone is saying, and yet do you know what you think? You will repeat what this political leader, that philosopher says, but will that save mankind? What another thinks, has it any significance? So the capitalists, the leaders and others say one thing contradicting or occasionally agreeing. So it is what they think that matters but not what you and I think? Do let us find out what we think apart from all our leaders, apart from our gurus, apart from all our systems and philosophies or all our groups whether of the left or of the right, let us think of the problem as though we are facing it for the first time. Let us view it as though we had never read a book. Surely that is the only way to solve the problem. So we are not discussing what the experts, the authorities, the leaders think but what you and I think. How will you get rid of the zamindars and capitalists? How does one become a zamindar or a maharajah? By exploiting people. To gather more than what one needs, leads to exploitation. Does it not? Merely because you need a certain amount of food, clothing and shelter is no reason for becoming the means by which some men use others for their personal satisfaction either economically, socially, or psychologically. Therefore to use man to gain power, position and authority becomes exploitation. So exploitation is the problem and not the zamindars. They are like you. If you had the chance you would be zamindars. If you had the chance you would be capitalists. Because you have something, you want more. You lose your generosity, the moment you climb up the ladder. So the problem is exploitation; to stop it, is the problem, is it not? And the capitalists, zamindars, etc., are trustees! Good God, they are trustees! Do you know what `trustees' means? Trust means love, and trustees, people who love man. To seek position for oneself, does it mean love for man? How can you love and at the same time exploit people? See, please, I am not taking sides. So do not become aggressive. The problem is much more profound than merely to say that they are trustees or not. First of all the problem is how easily you are persuaded. Let us think it out together now. The problem is exploitation, can exploitation cease while there is individual enterprise or must there be collective action? We know what individual enterprise has brought into the world and we also know what State exploitation can do. Both are equally ruthless and brutal; the latter perhaps more so, because there is no appeal and the State is run by the few. They also seek power and position. They also exploit man. Perhaps they may organize collective food, clothing and shelter for everybody. But they will exploit something which is much more important, your mind, your being, which means what you are thinking. Surely that is also exploitation, to control what you say and think. So exploitation is a very complex problem and as I said the moment we stock beyond what is essential, we exploit not only physiologically, but, psychologically also. The more clothes, the more shelter, the more ideas, you are acquiring, the greater the exploitation. Let us analyse it. The moment you acquire, the moment you become important, the moment the emphasis is laid on you as an entity acquiring, there must be exploitation, which does not mean that we should not organize for the welfare of the whole. But if the organizer is concerned with acquisition, then surely organizing is a means of exploitation, which we have seen happen over and over again. Can man live in relationship with another without acquisition, without position? Surely that is the problem put in a different way. Can we live in a society without acquiring more and more property for property represents power, position and security and you are not willing to limit your needs? Individual enterprise and other causes have contributed to horrors, so people of the left say: liquidate. But liquidation is not the solution surely. Man may not exploit through means of production, but the State will. The means of securing food, clothing and shelter is denied by psychological acquisitions which again is seen in everyday life. But this desire for acquisition is a means of security. The more you have the safer you are, at least you think you are. But is there such a thing as security? Because we have sought security irrespective of anything we possess, we have created this chaos. Each person is seeking security and because each person wants to be more secure still, another group says we must have collective security. That means exploiting man not merely for physical security, but exploiting man for much more profound things. So we come back to the question whether acquisition, psychological or physical, can be voluntarily relinquished. If you do not voluntarily relinquish it, it will be taken out of your hands, that is, if you do not physically or psychologically relinquish the desire to acquire, society is going to deprive you of everything and you will be made into a tool. That is what is happening. Society now is based on industry and therefore the labour must be organized and also controlled, that is you and I will be controlled. Therefore the state will control you and tell you what you should do and should not do. This is coming whether you like it or not. And if you really relinquish this desire to possess, to acquire, then morally, we will create a new society not based on any compulsion but that requires a great deal of active intelligence. It also means that you must begin with yourselves but since you are apathetic, lazy, you will be directed and compelled and there is no solution in that way. The solution lies in understanding what exploitation is, not only physical exploitation but the psychological as well and if one does not understand psychological exploitation, one fails to realize that the more we desire security, position, the nearer we are to loneliness, to poverty, to degradation. This is an immense question and an immense problem. It is to be understood very deeply because we do not lay emphasis on sensate value only. We live for intangible things like power. This greed for power comes because we do not understand ourselves. To understand ourselves requires a great deal of work, a great deal of thought and patience, the patience to look at things as they are. Question: Are your teachings intended only for the sannyasis or for all of us with families and their responsibilities? Krishnamurti: Surely what I am saying is meant for all: for those who have renounced the world and for those who live in the world, for he who has renounced is still in the world because he is in the world of his own making, just as the worldly person is in the world of his own desires. Both are held in bondage whether the bondage of the family, of the sensate or the bondage of the mind, and what I am saying applies to both because freedom is not one's creation. God or truth does not lie either in things made by the hand or in the things made by the mind. One has to transcend them, go above and beyond the passions, the envies, the greed, the ill will, the worldliness and beyond the things that man invents and creates. Then only shall we find what is truth. And we do find it at rare moments, moments when the mind is not thinking of itself, when the mind is tranquil. This happens very rarely. When you are unconsciously wandering in the streets, when you are not thinking, spontaneously there is this extraordinary state in feeling - a fleeting revelation uninvited, unexpressed but which if you once have experienced it you want to regain. Therefore you are caught again in memory, in want. After all the man who has a family is in a terrible position, is he not? Look at yourselves. Because of confusion in the world and sadness and despair in the world you are concerned with what is going to happen to your children. You want them to be secure, safely married and settled. The greater the confusion, the more you want security. That is, you want to push your responsibility on to somebody else, and what happens? You are unwilling to face the real issues, you call it responsibilities, whether it be love or any other thing. Likewise the man who has renounced the world is caught up in the images of his own mind. For him it is not different because he is heavy with his own fancies, his own dreams made of his own creation. He is born with them as you are with yours and so what is the real issue? How to live in the world when greed, when envy, when ill will, when those passions that destroy men are rampant. Surely we can live in the world without greed. Yes sir, you may laugh, you can live in the world without greed. To live so, you require a great deal of alertness, a great deal of thought, not to follow leaders, but to become aware of yourself. Then the family has a different significance because love comes in. Without love, family has no meaning and most of us, if I may say so, have not loved when we have families. If we understood our relationship with another real transformation would come. Then there would be love which will bring into being regeneration and a new world. Question: You may have heard of the awful tragedy that has taken place and is even now taking place in the Punjab. Will the individual action based on right thinking and self-knowledge by the few who are capable of such action be significant to solve this Punjab problem? Krishnamurti: What has happened in Punjab has also happened in Germany, in Europe. It has happened all over the world. It is not a peculiar Indian problem. This tragedy has taken place because of our national and religious bigotry. We are Hindus or we are Muslims, we are not human beings. We are labels, whether Germans or English, Japanese or Chinese and that is why the tragedy has taken place. I am afraid this is going to take place all over the world because nationalistic spirit is still rampant. Surely, till that ceases you are going to have war, economic, religious, psychological and all the rest of it. So the problem is not peculiar to Punjab but it is general. You only understand it by making it particular, by making it local. You are responsible for it and you have to transform yourselves. Because you have insisted for centuries on being either a Hindu or a Muslim as though what you call yourself mattered very much. We are labelled and we are unable to understand the sensitivity of other human beings and we are slaves to nationalism, to property and therefore we are willing to kill another in the name of freedom, in the name of God. To make it direct you have to change. Have you not? You have to completely stop nationalism. We have to stop the waving of the flag. We have to cease to be a Hindu or a Mussalman or a German or an American and cease to think in those terms and think in different categories. I know you will agree with me, yet you will go home and still be a Hindu or a Christian and God knows what else. You will continue your pujas, your Brahmanic tradition, you will go to the temples and function along the same routine. Yet we talk of brotherliness, being Hindus, and the tradition says that you must love each other as brothers. So what matters is that you should break up your conditioning. Not here, you have to break it up at home, at your political meetings. And then you will find how extraordinarily difficult it is. Your mothers, your sisters will cry and to please them you will have to become a hypocrite. You do not know how serious it is. You may be insensitive to it and you do not know what is happening? Preparations are going on for the third catastrophe which will be worse than ever before, and here we are discussing whether we are Brahmins or not. Is it not too childish? When you will be in a crisis will you bother about what caste you are, what nationality you are, whether you belong to the left or to the right? When we do, we are not aware of the crisis. We are controlled by our labels and that is our difficulty. To reawaken ourselves we have to become sensitive to the whole issue. Question: You say discipline is opposed to freedom. But is not discipline necessary for freedom? Krishnamurti: As this is a difficult problem, we have to consider thoroughly the implications of this question. A wrong means will produce a wrong end. Therefore right means must be employed for right ends. If you are disciplined, regimented, you will not produce freedom but a regimentation, a disciplined conditioning. It is obvious, is it not? So the means matters much more than the end. So, if you discipline your mind according to a pattern, which is the means, then you are bound to produce an end which is patterned after the means. But you will say: I must organize my daily life otherwise I can do nothing. I must condition myself to do my daily duties. I must organize the day. Now, what do you organize for? Why do you discipline yourself at all? To get things done, is it not? That is, you arrange your day to achieve a certain result. That is one kind of discipline. You arrange it mechanically, discipline yourself mechanically to achieve a certain result. Now the same mentality is carried over. In order to achieve a result you discipline yourself more and more. You say, you must be happy, you must find God, you must know, and you employ methods in order to achieve that result. You think happiness is truth or God, that it is an end to be achieved. That it is fixed, as though happiness were fixed, something to be done mechanically, something to be gained and you say after establishing it you have the means to discipline yourself. Now, can a disciplined mind, in the sense I am using the word `disciplined', be regimented, compelled through a means to an end? The means creates the end. The end is made by you. Therefore you are conditioning the end. Can a mind which is disciplined understand freedom? For a political man you may have to discipline yourself in order to achieve a result and in that process your mind becomes dull. Because party discipline is important, you sacrifice individual thinking in order to achieve a result. So you train yourself to be disciplined in order to achieve a result. There is no real thinking but the mind is merely hitched to a van you call the political machine and you cease to be a thinker and you are disciplined to function effectively. What you say is: I will discipline, control myself according to a pattern, in order to be free. How absurd it sounds? To put it differently, need you go through drunkenness to become sober? As means is the end, you must begin by understanding why it is necessary to be disciplined, and what it implies. Freedom is not a result. Freedom begins when you are aware and that awareness does not only apply to discipline, but to the whole process of living. So freedom can only come into being when the mind is free, when it is not conditioned by a pattern, by a discipline. When do you discover anything? When you are spontaneous, when you are absolutely free, not when you are bound and blind. To discover the real God, there must be freedom and you cannot be free to discover when your mind is trained after a pattern, trained according to a desire. Which does not mean that mind must be vagrant. When you become aware of the vagrancy of the mind, of the wanderings of the mind there is already freedom. You speak of discipline, the means to establish the end. Yet the need is not the real, because it is created by the mind and what you gain is not the real. Truth must come to you and you cannot go to truth and to receive truth there must be freedom to think clearly, deeply, profoundly. There must be choiceless awareness, not condemnation nor identification, but awareness. You will find that there are different ways of looking at discipline. Discipline prevents thinking and it is only in spontaneity that any freedom can be real, that the immeasurable can be known. November 2, 1947 MADRAS 4TH PUBLIC TALK 9TH NOVEMBER, 1947 I would request you to listen to these talks, not so much with the idea of learning, but letting what I am saying take root. If it is true it will take root unconsciously and if it is not true it will fall off and so you do not have to bother. Because, what is true is absorbed instantaneously by the unconscious and what is not true, though it is implanted in the unconscious, gradually falls off. So, if I may suggest, these talks should really be extended and discussed every day. There is something new happening to all of us every Sunday and these talks are really meant to awaken, to quicken that intelligence. If I may make a resume of what we have already discussed, I think it will be possible to extend more and more what I have been saying about self-knowledge, that is, we will be able to go further by approaching it from different angles each time. The other day we were discussing with many friends why each one of us, and therefore the world, is so consumed with the sense of property and class division. Why is it that each one of us gives such significance to acquisitiveness and to social, national and racial divisions? Why is it that all our problems seem to revolve around possession and name? I do not know whether you have thought about this from this point of view. Why is it that property with all its implications, name and nationality, racial and class divisions, fills our minds? There must be some reason. Mustn't there be? And we have tried to solve our problem from that point of view; property, acquisitiveness, possessiveness, racial and class divisions and so on. This is what is happening in the world. We are trying to solve our problems in either of these two ways. Now, why is it that they fill our minds? It would be worthwhile to discuss this with each one of you and really go into it but that is impossible because there are too many persons here. So I can only point out the problem and I hope you will think about it afterwards. Now, I said that we are consumed by these two ideas. Why is it that all our civilization is based on these ideas? Why is it that we are wrangling, quarrelling, going to war about these two ideas and why is it that we are trying to solve all our problems from the point of view of these two ideas? Is it not because we are seeking security? That food, clothing and shelter are very essential is an obvious fact. Yet we seem to be incapable of solving this question. So, why have these rudimentary demands taken such a deep hold of our minds? Is it not because we have no greater value? If you are interested in something greater, the lesser would not have such predominating value. In other words, secondary values when given consuming importance bring disaster and misery as they are doing now in the world. So why is there no greater value though all the books, the sacred books, say that there is a greater value? You must seek why; have you not tried it? If we did seek why, where has it led us to? Again to class division. Though you are seeking God and all the rest of it, the result is still division, division between the Hindu, the Buddhist, the Christian, the Muslim and so on. So when the mind seeks security, certainty, there can be no greater value than the sensate. After all, acquisition and class division are psychological factors. They are not materialistic values. They are psychological demands. So psychologically when we are seeking security it only creates values that are made by the hand or by the mind and therefore there can be no greater value and so sensate values become all important. Obviously we must have legislation and some kind of control but that does not solve the problem because revolution after revolution has come and we still stay the same. We are in the same misery and in the same confusion and nothing has been solved. So, how is the greater value to be found? This is significant. If I am really interested in something greater, I will not give such significance to the secondary, to the lesser. As I have not found a greater interest, the secondary becomes all import- ant and how am I to find the greater? I can only find it by understanding the psychological demand for security. I think this is the problem which we have to face, not the problem of food, clothing and shelter, because even when we have food, clothing and shelter, we still demand security for our inner needs. So, when we seek security we will have to ask, is there any security? Is there psychological security? We are all seeking it. We want to have food, clothing, shelter, but we also want to find security in names, class divisions, property, beliefs, definite ideas. This is the way in which the mind constantly seeks to be secure, to be certain, and we have assumed that there is such a thing as security and on it we are building our whole civilization, the whole structure of our thoughts, religious thoughts as well as those of every day existence. We have never asked ourselves, is there security, is there certainty? If there is not we will have to alter our whole existence. So, the problem then is not food, clothing and shelter for it can be solved. When the mind is seeking security, it must create the lesser values which are sensate values; and then sensate values become all important. So, is there security? Is there psychological certainty? You are going to find it out. We can only find it out through self-knowledge. So, I come back to that point again with a different approach. That is, as long as the mind is seeking security, when it is seeking psychological security, it only creates sensate values, the known values, sensory values, and it is caught in these values. But, if the mind is enquiring whether there is security, then sensate values become of less significance. I may tell you there is no security or somebody else can tell you there is security; but that will have no significance. But if you can discover it for yourself, then it will become extraordinarily clear, which is not the result of our own projection. So, self-knowledge is important in the sense that while you explore your own mind you begin to discover fundamentally and basically whether such a thing as security exists, whether reality is certainty; and self-knowledge has an extraordinary creative significance, if we treat it as an experiment, and not try to achieve a result; if we experiment with ourselves and live experimentally then every relationship becomes a process of self-revelation; if I am related to you and in daily contact with you I am being revealed to myself, the way I think, the way I feel and act; if I am observant and aware of that relationship in daily life, the process of my thinking, my meditations, my demands become revealed to me. But I can only have self-knowledge if I am aware. When I am aware I can see that one of the major difficulties in relationship whether it be relationship with one or with many - is our desire to be secure, because after all can relationship exist on uncertainty? Can you feel insecure with your wife and your children? Because as soon as you feel insecure, you begin to inquire. The moment you are certain you go to sleep. Thus, self-knowledge becomes extraordinarily significant when one begins to enquire whether there is any certainty, and question the mind which is ever seeking, pursuing the known. I do not know if you have observed the process of your thinking; but if you have, you will see that your thought is always moving from the known to the known, or to an unknown of its own creation which it then pursues until it becomes the worship of God. You have created God because it is the ultimate security; and if you observe very carefully your own way of thinking, your own feeling, you will see that they are absorbed in security. Yet truly, it is in uncertainty, in freedom, that you can discover what freedom is, not in certainty, nor in possessiveness, nor in the divisions of beliefs or of names. Property, belief have become all important because we have pursued certainty through sensate values, sensory values that the mind can create or the hand can create, because in them there seems to be security. But, if you went deeply into the whole problem of security, then sensory values would be of very small importance. Question: Will you please explain further what you mean by meditation? Krishnamurti: First of all let us see exactly what takes place, what the problem is, then we can have understanding. Only then will we find the answer. What do we generally mean by meditation? Let us examine what happens when we meditate. We are not condemning it. We are not judging it. We are merely examining what we actually do when we meditate because if we understand the problem we can understand the solution, the answer to it. So what do we do when we sit down and meditate? First of all, whenever we give importance to a belief we erect a barrier. You do it because you have been told to do it. Secondly, if you sit down and meditate, your mind wanders hopelessly all over the place. Because you have been told, that your mind is subtle and that you must concentrate on one idea and exclude all other ideas, you spend your time in conflict, trying to concentrate on one idea, while all the time your mind flits all over the place. If you sit in front of a picture you try to concentrate on that picture, or else on a word or on a phrase or an a quality. Because of your desire to be secure, you concentrate on something positive, like a picture or a phrase or an idea, or a quality. The idea has generally been formulated by the mind or taken out of a book. This is what we do and this is the actual picture, is it not? I do not know if you sit down and meditate, perhaps you do not; if you do, is that not what really, actually takes place? Now, is that meditation? So far we have considered a man that can fix his mind on one thing, as if this were something remarkable. If he can fix in his mind the idea of God which is an idea created by himself, or a word, or a phrase, and be consumed by that idea, that word, that phrase, you think he is a great religious man; and then you will also say that the man knows how to create. Isn't it so? What I mean is that the mind being vagrant, wandering, disorderly, but seeking orderliness, security, pursues one exclusive idea, generally a verbal idea; and when someone can dwell completely in an idea and be identified with it, we call him a great man. Yet the idea is a mere projection. The phrase is made by the man, is it not? The word is repeated by the man. So, as long as there is repetition, you are putting yourself in a trance by means of a phrase, a word, an idea; and going far into a trance, you will call that meditation, which is only identification with a projected idea; because reality is inconceivable, unknowable and you cannot think about the unknowable, you can only think about the knowable. And what you know is not the truth and therefore when you create the known you only experience a process of self-hypnosis. Is that meditation? To go into a trance, to concentrate on a thing with which you are completely identified, which is a projection of yourself? Is that not what we are doing? Is that right? What we do restlessly when in meditation is merely moving from the known to the known and therefore it is not the discovery of the unknown. After all, man is the result of the past and when the mind thinks of something in the future, it has translated the past into the future and therefore it is not the real. So if this is not the true process, then what is the true process? How to discover the unknown is the problem. After all the purpose of meditation is to discover reality, not to hypnotize yourself about the reality. Meditation is, after all, the discovery of beauty, love. But you can discover nothing by mesmerizing yourself, or by becoming stupefied by a phrase, or by a map, or by concentrating on something which is exclusive of all else. it is a form of self-hypnosis. So, the problem is, whether it is possible to discover the unknowable, isn't it? What you seek is the unknowable. If you experience it and merely live in the experience-all experiences are of the past - then it is not the real. So, for example you feel an extraordinary clarity, a vision of beauty and truth.The mind records this experience in memory and clings to it, thus breaking away from the unknown. Memory becomes a hindrance to the unknowable. How then would you find out that which is not conceivable, that which cannot be formulated, that which is immeasurable, the real? This is the problem, in meditation, is it not? Meditation is not a prayer, it is not a problem of concentration, we have gone into that. Can meditation - which is the result of the known, of the past - discover the unknowable, the unknown? Can my mind, which is the result of the known, of the past, understand, experience the unknowable, the timeless, the eternal? What is the answer? It can only know the eternal, the timeless when it is not caught in time. The mind can know the truth only when the mind is free from time, the known. So how can the mind which is the result of the past, free itself from an idea, a phrase, from devotion to a superior entity, all of which are inventions of the mind? It is obvious that when the mind suggests a superior entity, it is already the known entity. I do not know if you will see the implication in this. So, the problem then is not how to meditate, which is really a wrong question. `How' implies method. Method is the known and the known can only lead you to the known. The means creates the end. If the means is the known the end is the known. So, the problem is the mind which moves from the known to the known. You study to find the unknowable, the eternal, the timeless. The mind cannot see the real unless it frees itself from the known. What is the known? The accumulated memory is constantly gathering ideas, possessions or distinctions. Can mind free itself from its own creations? Can mind, which is the result of time, free itself from time? Because when it is itself free from time, the timeless is. Mind is not searching for the timeless. It does not know what the timeless is. So, how can the mind free itself from time, from the past, the present and the future? It can free itself only from time, from the present, by being aware of everything, of all that we are doing now, of all thinking, of all feeling, by being aware now and not tomorrow. For, the present is the door to time, to the understanding of time and the present exists in what you are thinking, not in the time indicated by the clock, the time-table, or your routine. But in becoming aware of what you are thinking now you will discover why you are thinking and what you are thinking. That is, if you are aware, you will begin to see that you condemn, judge, identify or find excuses. But that does not help you to know what you are thinking and what is the cause of your thinking and your reaction to it. So, it is in knowing what you are thinking, in the constant awareness of what you are thinking, feeling, doing, that you will find the beginning of self-knowledge, not only knowledge of your self-conscious, but also of all the hidden activities. This is the beginning of self-knowledge and therefore self-knowledge is the beginning of meditation and there can be no meditation without self-knowledge. To meditate there must be self-knowledge. So, the question `How to meditate' is a wrong question because it merely asks for a method, the known, a technique which is the known to find the unknowable. See how ridiculous it is. The means creates the end and if the means is the known then the end also is the known and therefore it is not the unknowable, the timeless. So the beginning of meditation is the beginning of self - knowledge. That is, through awareness the mind begins to be aware of its own activities and to know the whole process of the mind is not a question of time. But, if you begin to be aware, choicelessly, that is without condemnation, without justification, without identification, which is extremely difficult, then self-knowledge becomes extremely creative. After all that which is creative is creation, the Real. Question: I am beginning to realize that I am very lonely. What am I to do? (Laughter.) Krishnamurti: I wonder why you laugh, Do you laugh because you despise loneliness or because you think that it is something which does not concern you. You must be so busy with social activities that you cannot bother about yourself, nor feel your loneliness. Is that the reason why we laugh? it will be very interesting, Sirs, to find out within yourself why you laugh because then you will open the way to self-knowledge and if you pursue self-knowledge really, ardently, it will lead you to amazing heights and depths, to extraordinary joy, tribulation, which you will never know otherwise. The questioner wants to know, why he feels loneliness? Do you know what loneliness means and are you aware of it? I doubt it very much because we have smothered ourselves in activities, in books, in relationships, in ideas which really prevent us from being aware of loneliness. So, what do we mean by loneliness? It is a sense of being empty, of having nothing, of being extraordinarily uncertain, with no anchorage anywhere. It is not despair, nor hopelessness, but a sense of void, a sense of emptiness and a sense of frustration. I am sure we have all felt it, the happy and the unhappy, the very, very active and those who are addicted to knowledge. They all know this. The sense of real inexhaustible pain, a pain that cannot be covered up though we do try to cover it up. So, let us approach again this problem to see what is actually taking place, to see what you do when you feel lonely. You try to escape from your feeling of loneliness, you try to pick up a book, you follow some leader, or you go to a cinema, or you become socially very, very active, or you go and worship and pray, or you paint, or you write a poem about loneliness. That is what is actually taking place. Becoming aware of loneliness, the pain of it, the extraordinary and fathomless fear of it, you seek an escape, and that escape becomes more important and therefore your activities, your knowledge, your gods, your radios all become important. Don't they? I said, when you give importance to secondary values, they lead you to misery and chaos; and the secondary values inevitably are the sensate values and modern civilization based on these gives you this escape - escape through your job, escape through your family, escape through your name, escape through your studies, escape through painting, etc; all our culture is based on that escape. Our civilization is founded on that and that is a fact. Have you ever tried to be alone? When you do, you will feel how extraordinarily difficult it is and how extraordinarily intelligent we must be to be alone, because the mind will not let you be alone. The mind becomes restless, it busies itself with escapes. So what is it that we are doing? We try to fill this extraordinary void with the known. We discover how to be active, how to be social, we know how to study, how to turn on the radio. So we are filling that thing which we do not know, with the things we know. We try to fill that emptiness with various kinds of knowledge, relationship or things. With these three we are trying to fill it. Is that not so? That is our process, that is our existence. Now when you realize what you are doing, do you still think you can fill that void? You have tried every means of filling this void of loneliness. Have you succeeded in filling it? You have tried cinemas and you did not succeed and therefore you go after your gurus, your books or you become socially very active. Have you succeeded in filling it or have you merely covered it up? If you have merely covered it up, it is still there. Therefore, it will come back and if you are able to escape altogether then you are locked up in an asylum or you become very, very dull. That is what is happening in the world. Can this emptiness, this void be filled? If not, can we run away from it, escape from it? And if we have experienced and found one escape to be of no value, are not therefore all other escapes of no value? Therefore it does not matter whether you fill the emptiness with this or with that. Meditation is also an escape. So it does not matter much that you change your escape. How then will you find what to do about this loneliness? You can only find what to do when you have stopped escaping. Is not that so? That is, when you are willing to face what is, which means you must not turn on the radio, which means you must turn your back to civilization, then that loneliness comes to an end because it is completely transformed. It is no longer loneliness. Because if you understand what is, then what is, is the real. Because the mind is continuously avoiding, escaping, refusing to see what is, it creates its own hindrances. Because we have ever so many hindrances that are preventing us from seeing, we do not understand what is and therefore we are getting away from reality; and all these hindrances have been created by the mind in order not to see what is. Because to see what is, not only requires a great deal of capacity and awareness of action, but it also means turning your back on everything that you have built up, your bank account, your name and everything that we call civilization. When you see what is you will find how loneliness is transformed. Question: Are you not becoming our leader? Krishnamurti: There are several ideas involved in this question; that I should enter politics; that I should help to lead India out of this present chaos and so on. Let us examine this question and see what it means. First of all, why do you want a leader; the question is not whether I am a leader and you are a follower. Why does one become a leader and why does one wish to be a follower, whether the leader be a man or a guru? We want a leader because we are uncertain. We do not know what to think; we are confused and because in our confusion we do not know what to do, we want somebody to protect us. Politically it becomes the tyranny of a dictator. That is what is happening and what is going to happen. When there is confusion, and psychologically we are confused, we want somebody to lead us. In the world there is confusion, misery, chaos, exploitation by the rich, by the capitalist, by the clever, by the intelligent, by those who have got a system and these become leaders, create a party and because we do not want anarchy we let them lead us. We do not want to be confused, we want somebody to tell us what to do. And so, we create leaders. Why do we create them? Why do we hanker after leaders; why are we looking for leaders? Is it not because we want to be secure? We do not want to be uncertain about anything. Now, what happens? You not only create a leader but you become the follower. That is, you destroy yourself by following another. When you follow a tradition blindly, or follow a leader or a party, when you discipline yourself, are you not destroying your own thinking process? Instead there is confusion but nobody is going to bring order except yourself. Here is a marvellous state of confusion and you do not want to look at it. We want somebody to take us away from it. Then what happens? What do the leaders do? They get up and talk and they become leaders. But what they promise they must fulfil in action and when they cannot they feel frustrated. So, exploitation exists not only between the worker and the owner, but also between the follower and the leader, because if the leader does not lead he feels lost. If the leader does not get up and talk on the platform what is he? You not only create the leader but because of his own frustration and confusion you are also exploiting him. Exploitation is mutual. Haven't you noticed this? As the leader depends upon you and you depend upon the leader where are we going to be led to? This desire to create a leader is a form of self-fulfilment. You fulfil yourself in a leader and he fulfills himself in you, by seeking to save you, to guide you. But he is the leader you have created and therefore it is mutual exploitation, mutual self-fulfilment and therefore it is leading nowhere. Obviously it is exploitation, when it is only a self-fulfilment through organization. If there is self-fulfilment then it must lead to frustration and as we do not want to be frustrated we are always trying to watch for the inevitable. And therefore the leader becomes very important. He has to be the leader and you have to be the follower. Now, I do not want to fulfil myself in that way. I do not believe in self-fulfilment, it leads to misery. It leads to chaos and as I do not depend on you financially or for my psychological demands, I am not your leader. It does not matter to me whether there is one or many or none to listen to me. I do not believe in mutual exploitation, it leads to such absurd indignities and intrigues and therefore I am not your leader and you are not going to make me your leader. That is very simple, because there must be the two, those who want to lead and those who want to be led. As I do not want to lead, nor to follow anybody I am out of that class. Because true reality is not found through following anybody, it is not self-fulfilment. It comes into being only when the self is absent, when there is freedom from psychological demands, when the mind is free to act in pursuing anything. The pursuit is indicative of creation and when all desires cease then there is reality. Question: What is the difference between belief and confidence? Why do you condemn belief? Krishnamurti: First of all let us see what is belief and what is confidence. What do we mean by belief? Why do we have to believe? Is it not because we have a desire to be certain, to be secure? Psychologically it is disturbing not to have a belief, is it not? If you have no belief in God, in a political party, you will be very disturbed. Would you not? Fear, belief in reincarnation, in dozens of things. So, belief is a demand to be secure made by the mind and therefore what happens? The mind seeking security, seeking belief, creates belief. Either it creates it for itself or it takes the beliefs of others and whether it has created it or has taken it over from others, the mind holds on to it, and says `I believe'. Or it projects the belief into the future and makes out of it a certainty, a security according to which it disciplines itself. As various factors are bound to lead to different beliefs, you believe in God and another believes there is no God. You are a Muslim and another is a Hindu or a Christian and then what happens? Belief divides. Does it not? The desire to be secure psychologically is bound to create division because you are creating, giving importance to various things that are secondary. See what belief is doing in the world. Politically or religiously there are innumerable schemes which you believe to be the solvent of our difficulties. There are religious beliefs of such extraordinary varieties, and each individual pursues his own belief because it brings him comfort, and becomes a means of propaganda and exploitation. Belief inevitably separates. If you have a belief or when you seek security in your particular belief you become separated from those who are seeking security in other forms of belief. Therefore, all organized beliefs are based on separatism, though they may preach brotherhood. That is exactly what is happening in the world because belief is a hidden psychological demand for self-fulfilment. That is, by fulfilling yourself by means of a belief, you think you will be happy. Therefore, belief becomes an extraordinarily important factor in religion, in politics, etc. If you feel you are a human being, do you think you would be fighting like this? Hindu and you are fighting with a Mussalman and you are killing each other; the English fought the Germans and so on. So belief is formed because of a desire for self-fulfilment, for security; and because we demand security and strive for it, we have an end and the end is a projection of ourselves. If the end were unknown we would not believe. It is a projection of the self and therefore it creates separatism and it becomes a barrier between you and another and that is exactly what is happening. I am not inventing a theory, but I am describing a fact, psychologically as well as organizationally a fact. We all believe in a pattern because we feel it to be very safe, the leader as well as the follower. If you analyse belief very carefully and look into it you will find that it is a form of self-fulfilment, of mutual exploitation, and that it does not lead to any answer. That is what belief has done for us. And what do we mean by confidence? Most of us confide in someone or feel confidence in something. If you have practised something, read books, etc., it gives you a certain confidence, because you have practiced, done it over and over again with confidence. It is a form of aggressiveness. You can do something and therefore you feel delighted with yourself - "I can do something and you cannot." Confidence in a name, in a capacity -such confidence is aggression. Is it not? Such confidence is also self-exploitation which again is akin to belief. Therefore belief and confidence are similar. They are the two sides of the same coin. Now, there is another kind of confidence which comes through self-knowledge. It should not really be called confidence, but for the lack of a better word we will call it `confidence'. When there is awareness, when the mind is aware of what it is thinking, feeling, doing, not only in the superficial layer of consciousness but in the deeper hidden layers, when we are fully aware of all the implications, then there comes a sense of freedom, a sense of assurance, because you know. When you know a cobra you are free from it, aren't you? When you know something is poisonous there is an assurance, there is a freedom that was unknown hitherto. There is an assurance, an extraordinary joy, a creative hope, a sense of aliveness when the self has been explored none of which is based on belief. When the self has been explored and all its tricks and corners are known to the mind, then the mind is assured of its creator. Therefore it ceases to create and in that cessation there is creation. Sirs, please do not be hypnotized. You may be, as I said in the beginning of the talk, in that receptive mood when the seed is set in place, takes root. I hope sincerely that the seed has been planted because it is not words, it is not listening to me which will free you. What is going to free you, to deliver each one of us from sin and suffering is that realization, that awareness of what is. To know what it is exactly; not to translate it, not to explain it away, not to condemn; to know exactly what it is and to perceive it without obstruction brings freedom. That is freedom and through that freedom alone can truth be known. November 9, 1947 MADRAS 5TH PUBLIC TALK 16TH NOVEMBER, 1947 It would be very interesting if we could take the journey together into self-exploration but unfortunately the difficulty with most of us is that we are used to watching rather than partaking; we would watch the game and be the spectators rather than the actual players. I think it would be beneficial if we could all play the game and be creative, and not only watch one person think, feel, live. The difficulty with most of us is that we have forgotten how to play in the sense of partaking, sharing and discovering for ourselves. We are accustomed to being told what to do, what to think and what the right action is. We are so unaccustomed to discover for ourselves the process of our own thinking from which alone action takes place. So, if we can, let us not be mere spectators but let us actually partake in what is being discussed; which means we must establish a fully communicable relationship between ourselves, between you and me. Most of us have relationship verbally and the difficulty is to go beyond that verbal level to a deeper level so that we can understand the identical thing instantly; because, after all communication has purpose only when both understand. You may understand but if I do not, then communication between us ceases and the difficulty always is to establish the right kind of communication on the identical level and at the same time, so that there can be instantaneous comprehension. So, it would be worthwhile I think, if we could take the journey together and not for you merely to watch me take the journey and tell you or describe to you the results of my journey. That would be utterly futile. What we have been discussing the last few Sundays can be stated in a very few words, I think; and the simpler the statement, the more clear it will be. But unfortunately if it is oversimplified, the problem itself becomes non-existent. Yet the problem is there. Our problem is about the search for happiness and the overcoming of sorrow. We want happiness and yet our constant companion is sorrow. Now let us take the journey together and find out what we think of the problem, as though it were new and not as though I was merely describing what has been taking place in you and you were merely listening to me and communicating my meaning to yourselves. Let us be aware together, at the same time, on the same level, so that we can really go into it deeper and deeper at every discussion and every talk. We seek happiness, do we not, through things, through relationship, through ideas or thought? So, things, relationship and ideas, and not happiness, become all important. That is, whenever we seek happiness through something, the thing becomes important and not happiness. When stated like that it sounds very simple, and it is very simple. Because we seek happiness in property, in family, in ideas, the property, family and ideas become all important; we expect to find happiness through something. Now, can happiness be found through anything? Things made by the hand or by the mind have assumed greater significance than happiness itself, and because, things, relationship and ideas are so obviously impermanent, we are always unhappy. That is, we seek happiness through things and we find that there is no happiness. If we examine a little bit more closely we will find that happiness does not come through things. Then again, if we shift to another level, the level of relationship between ourselves and others, whether it be the society, the family or the nation, we see the enormous difficulty of adjustment between ourselves and others. So, if you observe it very closely you will find that there is an extraordinary impermanency in relationship, though we try to anchor ourselves in relationship and make it a refuge and a security. Similarly with ideas. One system of ideas can be broken down by another system of ideas and so on. Yet we do not seem to realize the impermanency of all things - using the word not in its metaphysical but in its purely ordinary sense. Things are impermanent; they wear out. In the case of relationships, there is constant friction. The same is true for ideas and beliefs which have no stability. Yet we seek our happiness in them because we do not realize the impermanency of things, of ideas and relationships. And so after trying one set of relationships, one set of things, we move to another, from one page to another, hoping to find happiness and we never find it. So, sorrow becomes our constant companion and the overcoming of sorrow our chief problem. How can we overcome it? We have never asked ourselves whether happiness can be found through something, through knowledge, through contact or through God. Can happiness be achieved through an object, either an ideological object or a physical object? Sorrow is inevitable as long as we seek happiness through something. is it not a fact that we seek happiness through something and when we do not find it in this world we move to the next world; when we do not find it in the family, in virtue, in ideas, we try to find it through a permanent entity called God? So it is always through something, through an object. So the problem is: can happiness, which is never found through anything, be found at all? If I cannot find it through something, can it exist or am I only happy when I am not seeking, when I do not want happiness through anything? Can happiness exist by itself? To find that out we have to explore the river of self - knowledge. But, self-knowledge is not an end in itself. It is like following a stream to its source. Is there a source to a stream? Surely not. Every drop from the beginning to the end makes the river, and to imagine that we will find happiness at the source is an error. Happiness cannot be found through anything but only by following the river of self-knowledge, that is oneself. So our difficulty lies in that we have to follow not only our conscious but also our unconscious motives, demands and purposes. Those of us who have listened somewhat earnestly, must have made the experiment of following thoughts and feelings consciously. That is, by becoming aware of conscious thoughts and feelings and ideas, we clear the mind of all conflict and all tribulations and confusions and begin to receive the unconscious thoughts and intimations. So in order to begin following the stream of self-knowledge there must be a clarification of the conscious, that is one must be aware of what is consciously taking place. That is, by becoming aware of the conscious activities, which I assure you is quite difficult, the unconscious thoughts and hidden intentions and motives can be understood. So, as the conscious is the present, the now, through the present the unconscious and hidden thoughts can be understood; and the unconscious and hidden thoughts cannot be understood through any other means except by becoming intensely aware of the present and by freeing ourselves from those complications, incompleted actions and thoughts that are constantly creeping into the conscious mind. So, all of us who really want to experiment, who really want to undertake the journey must free the thoughts in our conscious mind. That is, to make it simpler, the conscious mind is surely occupied with the immediate problems, the job, the family, studies, politics, the Brahmin and the non-Brahmin and so on. So, without our understanding those problems of the conscious mind and doing away with them, how can we proceed further? And to sweep that clear, is this not our constant problem of living? With these problems we are occupied, the state, nationalism, class division, property, relationship and ideas that constantly float into the conscious mind. How are we to solve the problem of property and class division? - property that creates so much hatred and enmity and class divisions and brings such conflict and despair? With that, our conscious mind is actually occupied. And if we do not clear that up, surely we cannot go very far and follow up the stream of self-knowledge. So what we want first is that extraordinary beginning of taking a step. So those who want to make the journey across to the other shore, to see and discover where self-knowledge leads them must surely be aware consciously of what they are thinking, feeling and their habits, their traditions and their verbal expressions, the manner of their speech to their wives, to their servants, and to their immediate superiors. That will reveal how the mind is working and from there you can proceed and as you proceed you discover; and discovery of the real is happiness and it is not through something, but is in itself as love is, eternal; love is eternal not because you love somebody, love is in itself eternal. Question: I have been told that you do not read any philosophical or religious literature. I can hardly believe this as when I listen to you I realize that you must have read or have some secret source of knowledge. Please be frank. Krishnamurti: I have not read any sacred literature, neither the Bhagavad Gita nor the Upanishads. I have not read any philosophical treatise, modern or ancient; and there is no secret source of knowledge either, because you and I are the source of knowledge. We are the reservoir of everything and of all the knowledge. Because we are the result of the past, and in understanding ourselves we uncover the whole knowledge and therefore all wisdom. Therefore self-knowledge is the beginning of wisdom and we can find that ourselves without reading a book, without going to any leader or following any `yogi'. It requires enormous persistency, an alertness of mind and I assure you that when you begin to explore, there is a delight, there is an ecstasy that is incomparable. But as most of our minds are drugged with other people's ideas and books, and as our minds are constantly repeating what someone else said, we have become repeaters and not thinkers. When you quote the Bhagavad Gita or the Bible or some Chinese Sacred Books, surely you are merely repeating. Are you not? And what you are repeating is not the truth. It is a lie, for truth cannot be repeated. A lie can be extended, propounded and repeated but not truth; and when you repeat truth, it ceases to be truth and therefore sacred books are unimportant because through self-knowledge, through yourself, you can discover the eternal. It is really a most arduous task, for self-knowledge has no beginning or conclusion with a solution at the end. It has no beginning and no end. You must begin where you are, read every word, every phrase and every paragraph and you cannot read if you are condemning, if you are justifying, if you pursue verbally and deny the painful, and if you are not awake to every implication of thought. You can only be awake when there is spontaneity because a controlled mind is a disciplined mind and it can never understand itself because it is fixed in a pattern. But there are moments when even the disciplined minds, the drugged minds are spontaneous and in these spontaneous moments we can discover, we can go beyond the illusions of the mind. So, as there is no secret source and as there is no wisdom in any book you will find that the real is very near for it is in yourself and that requires extraordinary activity, constant alertness. Self-knowledge does not come by studying in a room by yourself. If the mind is alert yet passive you can follow every second of the day and even when one sleeps the mind is functioning. If during the day you are alert, extraordinarily awake, you will see that the mind has received intimations, hints which can be pursued during the night. So really a man who wants to discover truth, the real, the eternal, must abandon all books, all systems, all gurus, because that which is to be found will only be found when one understands oneself. Question: At present in this country our government is attempting to modify the system of education. May we know your ideas on education and how it can be imparted? Krishnamurti: This is an enormous subject and to try to answer it in a few minutes, is quite absurd because its implications are so vast, but we will state it as clearly and as simply as possible because there is a great joy in seeing a thing clearly without being influenced by other peoples' notions and ideas and instructions, whether they be the government, or the specialists or the very learned in education. What has happened in the world after centuries of education? We have had two catastrophic wars which have almost destroyed man, that is, man as a means of knowledge. We see that education has failed because it has resulted in the most dreadful destruction that the world has ever known. So what has happened? Seeing that education has failed, governments are stepping in to control education. Are they not? They want to control the way in which you should be educated, what you think, not how you think, but what you think. So, when the government steps in, there is regimentation as has happened throughout the world. Governments are not concerned with the happiness of the masses, but they are concerned with producing an efficient machine; and as our age is a technical age they want technicians who will create the marvellous modern machine called society. These technicians will function efficiently and therefore automatically. This is what is happening in the world, whether the government is of the left or of the right. They do not want you to think but if you do think, then you must think along a particular line or according to what religious organizations say. We have been through this process, the control by the organized religion, by the priests and by the government. It has resulted in disaster and in the exploitation of man. Whether man is exploited in the name of God or in the name of the government, it is the same thing. As man is human he eventually breaks up the system. So that is one of the problems; as long as education is the hand-maiden of the government there is no hope. This is the tendency we find everywhere in the world at the present time whether it is inspired by the right or by the left, because if you are left free to think for yourself you may revolt and therefore you will have to be liquidated. There are various methods of liquidation which we need not go into. Sirs, in considering education we will have to find out the purpose of education, the purpose of living. If that is not clear to you why educate yourself? What is significant? What are we living for? What are we struggling for? If that is not clear to you education has no significance. Has it? One period will be technical, another period will be religious, the next period will be something else again and so on. We are talking about a system and so is it not important to find out what it is all about. Are you merely being educated in order to get a job? Then you make living a means to a job and you make of yourself a man to fit into a groove. Is that the purpose? We must think of this problem in that light and not merely repeat slogans. To a life that is not free from systems whether they be modern or ancient, free of even the most advanced and progressive ideas, education will have no meaning. If you do not know why you are living, what is the purpose of being educated, then why make so much fuss about how you are educated. As it is, you are being led to the cannon. You are becoming cannon fodder. If that is what we want then certainly we must make ourselves extremely efficient to kill each other and that is what is happening. Is it not? There are more armies, more armaments, more money invested in producing bacteriological warfare and atomic destruction than ever before in history and in order to accomplish all this you must be technicians of the highest order and therefore you are becoming tools of destruction. Is not all this due to education? You are becoming fodder for cannons, regimented minds. Or else you become an industrialist, a big businessman grabbing after money and if this does not interest you, you, become addicted to knowledge, to books or you aspire to be a scientist caught in his laboratory. And if there is any higher purpose to our lives and if we do not discover it, then life has very little significance; it is as if we committed suicide and we are committing suicide when we make ourselves into machines, either religious machines or political machines. So if we do not discover what the purpose of life is, education has very little significance. Then, what is the need or the purpose of our living? I am not telling you and do not expect me to tell you. We are taking the journey together. We must turn our back against divisions and distinctions, that is, we must find what is the real, what is God, what is eternity and what is happiness; because a man who is already happy is not bothered at all. A man in love loves everybody. For him there is no class distinction. He does not want to liquidate somebody because that somebody has more. If happiness is the end, then what we are doing now has no significance. To find reality there must be freedom, freedom from conditioned thinking, so as to discover if there is not something beyond the sensate values. Not the absurd political freedom, but freedom from conditioning, from the, psychological demands that condition thought. Does freedom come through education, through any system of government whether of the left or of the right? Can parents, environment give freedom? If so, environment becomes extraordinarily important because parents must be educated as well as the educator. If the educator is confused, conditioned, narrow, limited, bound by superstitious ideas, whether modern or ancient, the child will suffer. The educator therefore is far more important, that is, to educate the educator is far more important than educating the child. That means the parents and the teachers should be educated first. Do they want to be educated, altered or revolutionized? Not in the least, for the very simple reason that they want permanency. They want `status quo', things as they are, with wars and competition and a political world in which everybody is confused, pulling at each other, destroying each other. You ask me what I should do about education. It is too vast a subject. If you want things to be continued as they are, then you must accept the present system which brings constant wars and confusion, never a moment of peace in the world. And it is much more difficult to educate the educator than the child because the educator has already grown stupid. I do not think you realize what is happening in the world, how catastrophic it all is. The educator is becoming dull and he does not know what to do. He is confused. He goes from one system to another, from one teacher to another, from the oldest to the most ancient and yet he does not find what he is looking for, for the very simple reason that he has not located the source of confusion which is himself. How can such a man awaken intelligence in another? So, that is one of the problems. What is the child? He is a product of yourself, is he not? So he is already conditioned, is he not? He is the result of the past and the present. The idea that if given freedom, the child would develop naturally seems to be fallacious because after all the child is the father and the father is the child though with certain modifications of tendencies. To give freedom to a child you must first understand yourself, the giver of freedom, the educator. If I have to educate a child but do not understand myself and so start with my conditioned response, how can I teach him? How can I awaken intelligence in him? So that is part of the problem. Then there is the question of nourishment, care and love. Most of us have no real love for our children though we talk about it. Sirs, education is something tremendous and without love I do not possibly see how there can be education. The moment you love somebody you understand the person, your heart is in it. Do we love our children? Do we love our wives or husbands? Do we love our neighbours? We do not, because if we did there would be a different world. There is no true education through a system. If we love there must be instantaneous communication, on the same level and at the same time and because we ourselves are dry, empty, governments and systems have taken over. The educator becomes important, the environment becomes significant because we do not know how to love. I am afraid you will say that I have said nothing positive about education. Is not negative thinking the highest form of thinking, for wisdom comes through negation. Do not put what I say into your old bottles and thus lose the perfume. Sirs, surely to transform the world there must be regeneration within ourselves. We find we have blueprints to educate our children but naturally blueprints have no love. Therefore you produce machines. We have brains but what has happened to them. We are becoming cannon fodder. We are not creators. We are not thinkers. We do not know how to love, we are merely drudging with our routine minds and naturally we become inefficient and the government which wants efficiency for destruction is going to make us efficient. There is an efficiency inspired by love which is greater than the efficiency of machinery. Question: The traditional method of reaching Adepts or Masters by training given by them or through their disciples is still said to be open to humanity. Are your teachings intended for those who are on that path? Krishnamurti: Sirs, let us really go into this question of various paths leading to ultimate reality. A path can only lead to that which is known and that which is the known is not the truth. When you know something it ceases to be truth because it is past, it is entirely arrested. Therefore the known, the past is caught in the net of time and therefore it is not the truth, it is not the real. So, a path leading to the known cannot lead you to truth and a path can only lead to the known and not to the unknown. You take a path to a village, to a house, because you know where the house is in the village and there are many paths to your house, to your village. But reality is the immeasurable, the unknown. If you could measure it it would not be truth. Because what you have learned through books, through the say-so of others, is not real; it is only repetition and what is repeated is not truth any longer. So, is there any path to truth? We have thought so far that all paths lead to truth. Do they? Does the path of the ignorant, the path of the man with ill will lead to truth? He must abandon all paths. Must he not? A man who is concerned with murdering people in the name of the state, can he find truth unless he abandons his occupation? So all paths do not lead to truth. A man who is addicted to the acquiring of knowledge cannot find truth because he is concerned with knowledge and not with truth. The man who accepts division, will he find truth? Obviously not, because he has chosen a particular path and not the whole. Will the man of action find reality? Obviously not, for the simple reason that by following a part we cannot find the whole. That means knowledge, division and action separately cannot lead anywhere but to destruction, to illusion, to restlessness. That is what has happened. The man who has pursued knowledge for the sake of knowledge, believing that it would lead him to reality, becomes a scientist, yet what has marvellous science done to the world? I am not decrying science. The scientist is like you and me; only in his laboratory he differs from us. He is like you and me with his narrowness, with his fears and nationalism. So a man who really seeks reality must have devotion, knowledge and action. They are not three separate paths leading to some extraordinary thing called reality. Yet, devotion to something is only another fantastic phase. Remove the object of his devotion, and the man is lost and he will fight and he will do everything to hold on to it. Therefore it is no longer devotion. It is merely an emotional outlet, centred upon something which he calls devotion, but a man who is really devoted, is devoted to the search itself and not to knowledge. To believe that there is a path to the Masters, to the Adepts or a path reached through their disciples is also rather fantastic. Is it not? Because wisdom is not found through a disciple or through a Master. Happiness is not found through any means other than by abandoning the idea that we are the chosen few, who travel along a special path. This idea merely gives us a sense of security, a sense of aggrandizement. The idea that yours is the direct path and that ours will take more time is the outcome of immature thinking. Does it not divide mankind into systematized paths? It is those that are mature who will find the truth. He who is mature never pursues, whether it be the path of the Adepts or the path of knowledge, of science, of devotion or of action. A man who is committed to any particular path is immature and such a man will never find the eternal, the timeless, because the part, the particular to which he is committed belongs to time. Through time you can never find the timeless. Through misery you can never find happiness. Misery must be set aside if happiness is to be. If you love, in that love there can be no contention and no conflict. In the midst of darkness there is no light and when you get rid of darkness, you have light. Similarly, love is when there is no possessiveness, when there is no condemnation, when there is no self-fulfilment. Those of us who are committed to paths have vested interests, mental emotional and physical, and that is why we find it extremely difficult to become mature; how can we abandon that to which we have clung for the past fifty or sixty years? How can you leave your house and become once more a beggar just as you were when you were really seeking? Now you have committed yourself to an organization of which you are the head, the secretary or a member. To the man who is seeking, the search itself is love, that itself is devotion, that itself is knowledge. The man who has committed himself to a particular path or action is caught up in systems and he will not find truth. Through the part the whole is never found. Through a little crack of the window we do not see the sky, the marvellous clear sky and the man who can see the sky clearly is the man who is in the open, away from all paths, from all traditions and in him there is hope and he will be the saviour of mankind. Question: What profession would you advise me to take? Krishnamurti: Each question is related to some other question. Each thought is related to another and is not separate. The profession, the path, education, self-knowledge are all intimately interrelated. You cannot merely choose a profession and pursue self-knowledge or choose a profession to be an educator. They are all interrelated. All actions, all feelings are interrelated and that is the beauty of it. If you take one thought you can go into the whole depth of thinking. You ask: what profession would you advise me to take? If you want a right answer we must go into it fully. What is happening in this world? Is there any choice of profession? You take what you can jolly well get. You are lucky if you can get work. This is so in all parts of the world. Because we have lost all true values we have but one aim: to get money somehow to live. Since that value is predominating in the world there is no choice. If you are a B.A., B. Sc., or an M.A., you become a clerk. The structure of society is such that it leads to destruction. The society is geared to destroy. Every action that you do is leading to war. I do not know if you are aware of it, but in the midst of this storm, and starvation, can you choose to become a lawyer, a soldier, or a policeman? When you really feel that mankind is on the brink of a catastrophe can you choose any of these three professions? By becoming a soldier can you solve the world's problem? A soldier functions to destroy and he will destroy. He is trained to destroy like the policeman whose office is to watch, to report, to spy, to intrigue; and you know what it is to be a lawyer -a cunning man without much substance behind him. You are all lawyers and you know what you have done to the world by your cleverness and yet you are still turning out thousands of lawyers. What is their profession? To divide and to keep up division and on that they live. They do not live on human relationship and kindliness and love but on cunning stupidity and intrigue. Can you join a man who makes money in the midst of this economic chaos? Can you know what starvation means? So you see how limited the professions are. Sirs, before you can ask the question, what you are to do, you must know how to think rightly, not in a sloppy manner. Right thinking brings about right profession and right action. You cannot know how to think rightly without self-knowledge. Are you willing to spend the time to know yourself, so that you can think rightly and find the right profession? Those of you who are not compelled to choose immediately a profession, surely you can do something. Therefore, those of you who have leisure have the responsibility, those who have time to know and to observe. But those who can, do not. It is immensely difficult to choose a job in a civilized world of this kind where every action leads to destruction and exploitation. Many who are not pressed to choose a profession are those who can, but they do not, and that is the tragedy. You do not, because you are afraid. When the house is already on fire you still want to hold on to a few things. So the tragedy is not for those who have to choose a profession, they are going to choose it willy-nilly, but it is for those who sit back and observe. Through right thinking alone can there be right action. Right thinking is not achieved through books, through past memories or through future hopes. November 16, 1947. MADRAS 6TH PUBLIC TALK 23RD NOVEMBER, 1947 I think we ought to spend some time considering what is right listening. I think there is an art to listening. Most of us are accustomed to translate what is being said into our own terms, interpret it according to our own understanding, our background, our tradition. Is it not possible to listen as though we had no background at all, merely listen as we would listen to a song or music? You are not interpreting music when you are listening. You are listening to the silence in between two notes; you are attentive and sufficiently relaxed, sufficiently focussed to give your whole attention without any effort, because you feel a tremendous interest. Likewise when there is right communication - right communication exists only when there is affection, love - there is immediate response. There is no translation, there is no interpretation, there is comprehension at the same time, on the same level, but it is very rare to find people who love each other so completely that there is complete understanding. Most people meet, but on different levels and at different times, whereas what we are trying to do is not only to listen, but also at the same time to be creative, which is not merely following or accepting or denying verbally, but to experiment within yourself with what is being said as though you were following your own thoughts sufficiently alertly and yet silently. But the difficulty is that we do not know how to listen, how to see, and how to hear because when a thing that is said is new, we put it into old bottles, fit it into old terminologies and therefore we spoil it, like `new wine put into old bottles'. What happens when you put new wine into old bottles? Fermentation starts and the bottles break and yet, I am afraid that is what most of us are doing. We do not approach our experience anew. We approach it anew only when there is a tremendous interest, when there is great love it is something new every second and not a continuation of the old or an interpretation according to a pattern or a system of thought. So, if I may suggest, it would be worth. while if we could listen with that peculiar quality of creative attention, as though we were meeting something anew. As I said over and over again, a truth that is repeated ceases to be a truth and by merely hearing it, it becomes a repetition, which you translate into your own terms, which you fit into particular channels with which you are familiar and so it ceases to be the truth. Whereas if you listen with that intense creative understanding, creative stillness, which is not interpretation, then it is your truth and that is what liberates you and gives you freedom, gives you happiness. We miss that happiness, that creative joy, if we merely translate or absorb the old books, or hear the words of some teacher or saint. So, there can be happiness only when the mind is capable of receiving the new, but as our mind is the result of the old, it is extremely difficult to listen as though we have never heard it before. I do not know if you have listened to the songs of the birds in the morning. You must have. You never compare it to yesterday's song. It is new, it is something very lovely because your mind is fresh, untroubled by the day's activities and so is capable of hearing it as if for the first time even though the song is as old as the hills. Similarly, please listen to whatever I am saying as though you were hearing it anew, and you will see an extraordinary thing taking place in yourself, because happiness is not something that is old, but happiness is something that is constantly renewing itself. As I said last week, what is sought through an object or material or psychological, can never yield happiness. In that case what seems happiness is merely gratification which is always impermanent. So to understand happiness or to be happy, we must understand the process of becoming happy and that is what we are all trying to do. We are trying to become happy. We are trying to become virtuous. We are trying to become cleverer than we are. So if we can understand the becoming and the being, then perhaps we shall understand what happiness is. Surely becoming and being are two wholly different states. Becoming is continuous and have you noticed that that which is continuous is always binding. Relationship is binding if it is merely continuous, if it is merely a habit. If it is merely a gratification, it is merely a habit. The moment it ceases to be continuous, there is a new quality in relationship and if you go into it further you will see that where there is continuity, habit, a thought process which is moving from continuity to continuity, there is always a bond of friction, of pain; yet if we do not understand this continuity, which is the becoming there is no being. You never say to yourself, `I will become happy'. So, being can only be understood, when becoming ceases. To put it differently, after all, virtue gives freedom. Have you ever noticed that an immoral man is stupid, because he is caught, he is miserable; while the really virtuous are free and happy and are not becoming something but being. That is, there can be freedom only in virtue, because it is orderly, clear and free but a man who is not virtuous is disorderly and unclear and his mind is confused. So virtue is not an end in itself, but it creates that freedom without which reality cannot exist; but when we translate virtue as a means of becoming, then there is friction. So becoming and being virtuous are two wholly different states. Virtue is understanding, is it not? That which you understand brings freedom. That which you do not understand creates confusion, darkness and so on. The moment you understand something there is virtue. So, is understanding to come through effort, or is there a state in which effort has ceased for understanding to be? Does understanding come through effort, or does understanding come when there is no effort? Have you tested it or tried it? If I want to understand what you are saying, must I make an effort to listen? When I make an effort there are distractions. Then, distractions become more important than listening. Not being interested in what you are saying, I have to make an effort not to be distracted, in order to listen. Whereas if there is interest, if there is communion, then there is no effort. Now, you are listening to me without effort. The moment you make an effort, you have ceased to understand. After all when you see a picture or a painting, do you make an effort? If you want to criticize, to compare, or to find out who painted it, then you have to make an effort. If you really want to understand, you sit quietly in front of it, if the picture appeals to you. In that quietness in which there is no distraction, you understand the beauty of the picture. So, surely virtue comes without any effort. But since our whole existence is based on effort, we must find out why we are making an effort, why this constant trouble, why this incessant battle to be something. To be something is what we are striving all day long, consciously or unconsciously. We strive to become something. I wonder if you have ever asked yourself why we are striving. Is striving inevitable? Is striving part of existence and what do we mean by making an effort. Essentially it is to be something other than what we are. Is it not so? You see what is and you do not like it and you want to be something else. The essential reason behind all effort is the desire to transform what is into something which is to be. I am stupid and I am striving to become clever. Can stupidity ever become cleverness or must stupidity merely cease? If we can understand that, we shall understand the whole significance of making an effort. That is, we are afraid to face what is. We are afraid to understand what is and therefore we always strive to transform, to move, to change. Surely a rose is not striving. It is what it is. In the very being there is a kind of creation. It does not desire to be other than what is. It knows no strife other than the natural strife to live. With us, there is not only the natural struggle to survive, that is, for food, clothing and shelter, but there is the struggle to transform that which is. Yet we do not understand that which is. So the difficulty is to understand what is and a mind cannot understand what is, if it is distracted, if it is seeking something other than what is, if it is trying to transform what is into something else. Is not our whole education based on that? Are not our religious conceptions and formulae rooted in that? You are this and you must become that, you are greedy and you must become non-greedy, and therefore strive, strain and struggle to become that. But, if you understood what is, there is no striving. If you are greedy and if you really understood what greed is, then there is no becoming non-greedy. But to understand what greed is you have to give your whole attention, you have to be significantly aware of its extensional values. We won't understand as long as we are striving to change what is into something which is more desirable. Take a very simple example. If one is stupid and one tries to become clever, can one become clever? You would say `yes', yet can one become clever by passing examinations, by studying and acquiring knowledge and sharpening one's mind? Surely not. That person is still stupid. Greed can never become non-greed. Only when greed, stupidity, etc., cease, is there virtue, intelligence, a state in which there is no greed, no stupidity. Only when I know that I am stupid, will I begin to have intelligence. But, merely to strive after cleverness is not intelligence. Do you need to make an effort in order to understand what is? You make an effort only when you are distracted. Our whole tendency, educationally, spiritually, socially is based on transforming what is into something other than what is. We have spent our days and our energies in transforming what is without understanding what is. Is it not extraordinary, if we look at it in that way? How can you transform anything without understanding what is? To understand what is. surely you must not suppress it, you must not control it, but merely look at it without condemnation or justification. Surely, suppression or discipline do not bring understanding. They only distract from what is. Whereas, if we spent all that energy which we now waste by striving to change what is, in understanding what is, we would find an extraordinary transformation, which is not the result of effort, but the result of understanding. Understanding comes only when there is no effort, when there is a stillness, and when there is no striving to be other than what is. Question: What is the difference between introspection and awareness? Krishnamurti: Introspection begins when there is the desire to change the self. I introspect myself in order to transform, modify, change myself into something. That is why we look into ourselves. I am unhappy and I look into myself to find the cause of unhappiness. To introspect is to look into oneself, to change oneself, to modify oneself according to environmental and religious demands. What happens in that process? In that process there is condemnation. I do not like this and I must become that. I am greedy and I must change to be non-greedy. I am angry and I must become peaceful. By that strife you begin to modify. But the effort becomes tyrannic, does it not? This introspection leads nowhere. Have you tried to become introspective? Is there not a continuity in introspection and therefore a bondage? Every experience is translated according to the pattern of the self, which is always examining, translating, interpreting, putting away things which it does not like and accepting things which it wants. So, introspection is a constant struggle to change what is, whereas awareness is the recognition of what is and therefore the understanding of what is. You cannot recognize or understand something when you condemn it. You can understand only when you are observant, when you are not dissecting or pulling apart to see what is. It is only when you are quiet that what is begins to unfold. Let us take an example and I hope I can make it clearer. When the man of introspection, is aware that he is greedy, what is his reaction? It is one of condemnation, is it not? Or it may be a denial or a justification. He wants to change it, that is, to change the quality of greed which is painful or pleasant. He either identifies himself with it and therefore pursues it or he denies it and puts it aside. Therefore the reaction is always one of justification, condemnation or identification because he is always translating what is in terms of becoming. This is what we are doing in our daily life, and we are spending our life in this constant transformation of what is, that is, we are striving to be free from greed and still we are greedy, we are confused and weary. After all, the action of a man of introspection is residual, his action springs always from the residue of yesterday, whereas for the man of awareness there is no residual response. He is simply aware, which means, he is not translating, not condemning, not justifying and not identifying himself with anything and therefore his response is non-residual, it is spontaneous. So, there is a great deal of difference between residual response and awareness, the one is a becoming and therefore a constant strife, and the other is being aware of what is and therefore understanding what is and going above and beyond what is, which the introspector can never do. So, if you really go into it very deeply you will see the extraordinary creative quality of being aware and the destructive quality of introspection. The man of introspection, the introvert, which is unfortunately, a psychoanalytical phrase, is a man who is concerned with changing what is and he can never be creative. He is only concerned with improving himself and he can never be free. He is only moving within the fortress of his own desires and therefore he can never find reality. He is never happy. Reality will shun him because he is immersed in the idea of becoming righteous. You know that a respectable man, a righteous man, is a curse, which does not mean that the sinner is not also a curse. But at least the sinner is aware and is inquiring and therefore there is a possibility that he will see more than the man who is respectable in his enclosure. Whereas a man of awareness understands directly what is, and in that understanding of what is, there is an extraordinary transformation, an instantaneous transformation, which is creation. Question: Do you believe in immortality? Krishnamurti: What do you mean by a belief? Why do you believe and what is there to believe? Do you believe that you are alive? Do you believe that you hear? Does not belief come to be when you are confused, disturbed, anxious and because you need to believe in something to give you a sense of tranquility? Belief then is not what is, and a man who is aware of what is, will never believe. What is there to believe? Surely, when a man believes, his belief is based on some authority which gives him security, certainty, such as the society which provides him with a job, or the organization which gives him a house. For that same reason a man believes in the Master or in his brother because it places him in a safe position. So, belief ensures security and a man who is secure can never find reality, and can never find what is eternal. Only the man who is inquiring, uncertain, anxiously searching, neither accepting nor denying, will find reality. But a man who is resting in his security can never find reality and because belief makes a man secure, it not only binds him but destroys his creative thinking. What do we mean by immortality? We will perhaps understand it if we can understand what is continuity. If we can understand death perhaps we shall be able to understand immortality. If we can understand the ending of things, then we shall be able to understand that which is imperishable, immortal. And therefore to understand the immortal, the imperishable, we have to understand the ending which we call death. We say we understand death because we see a dead body. Surely that is not death. Death is the unknown, is it not? As reality, the imperishable, is the unknown, so death is the unknown and you do not know it. But you have searched for years, for centuries and given all your thoughts to truth which is also the unknown but you have avoided thinking about death. Why is that? I think, there is the problem, if we can understand it. Death, the unknown, you have shunned and put away, and you have pursued reality, you have pursued and you have written volumes about God; every temple has an image of Him or inscriptions about Him. By your thoughts you have given life to things. Why have we pursued reality, God, the Truth, the unknown? You do not know it. If you knew it the world would be different and we would love one another. Why do you shun one and accept the other? You shun death because you fear the cessation of continuity and pursue immortality because you want continuity. So you invest in God, not knowing what you are investing in. Is this not very odd? And after investing in God you ask, is there immortality, because you want insurance, a further guarantee and the man who assures you of immortality, will gratify you and you will be pleased. Surely the problem is not whether there is immortality or whether there is not. If I tell you there is, what difference will it make? Will you transform your life tomorrow? Certainly not. If I tell you there is not, you will go to someone else who will assure you there is. So you are between the believer and the non-believer and it gives you pain. And to understand anxiety or fear of death, you must find out why there is this division between reality and death; why you pursue ceaselessly, generation after generation what you call God not knowing what it is and always avoiding the thought of death. Has there been a sacred book about death? No there have always been books and books on God. If you know God as an idea or as a formula it cannot be real. Surely the unknown can never be translated into things. The real cannot be explained to him who does not know it. There is immediate communication between two persons who love each other. You can write poems about love, volumes and volumes about it, but you cannot communicate it to another if he does not know it. Similarly, it seems to me futile to inquire whether there is God, because if you search rightly you will find out if there is or if there is not. Similarly if you search rightly you will find out the significance of death. We seek continuity through property, through family, or through beliefs or ideation and as long as we are assured of continuity there is no fear. So the man who is seeking psychological continuity invests in property and when he realizes its impermanency, he seeks other forms of continuity, psychological continuity in the nation, in the race and if that is denied to him, then in belief of the ultimate continuity in God, the unknown, and when that assurance is threatened he calls it death of which he is afraid. So, we are not really concerned with reality or God or death, we are concerned with continuity which we call by a lovely word `immortality.' You only want continuity in some form or another, to be given to you by a name, by the family, by the priest, by the book, by tradition, by the temple. What happens to anything that continues? It decays, or it becomes a routine and therefore merely functions as a machine. Continuity is a guarantee of decay, but the moment you think you will cease to continue you become afraid. If you are aware of that fear you will see that the fear ceases. Only then will you be able to understand that there is no division between death and life because death and reality are the unknown, but a mind that is moving, that has its being in the known can never find the unknown. The known is always the continuous and the mind clings to the known and gives life to the known, and therefore it is always moving within the house of the known and it is that known which wants to be continued. Surely that which is known is already in the net of time. It can never know the unknowable and it is only when the mind is freed from the net of time that there is the timeless. Then only there is a life that is not thought in terms of time or continuity. To understand death there must be no fear. But a man who desires continuity is frightened and the escapes that civilization has created to allay his fear have so drugged him, made him so dull, that he cannot see the significance of death. Surely death is as lovely as the real is, because both are the unknown, but a mind that is merely functioning within the known can never understand the unknown. Question: Please explain further what you mean by the clarification of the conscious? Krishnamurti: I said in my talk last Sunday that the superficial consciousness must clarify itself and be clear, for the hidden to project itself - the hidden motives, unconscious and subconscious hidden demands, pursuits, ignorance and darkness, the hidden being not the real. That is, if we would understand anything, the immediate mind must be calm. What generally happens when you have a problem is that you think about it, worry over it like a dog worries a bone, you take it, tear it, look at it from different angles and at the end of the day you are tired of the problem and you go to bed, worn out by your struggle to comprehend and to find a solution. When you go to bed and when you sleep your conscious mind is relaxed because having thought a great deal you cannot think any more. Being relaxed, when you wake up in the morning you see the answer. There is a phrase, `go and sleep over a problem for the answer.' What happens is that your conscious mind, not understanding the problem puts it aside and having detached itself from it, has become clarified; and the unconscious or the deeper layers begin to project themselves into the conscious and when you wake up, the problem has been very simply solved. So, similarly the conscious mind, the upper layers of consciousness must be clarified so that the mind can always be tranquil, so that it can receive intimations or hints from the hidden. But we are not tranquil. Our conscious mind is incessantly restless, moving from problem to problem, from one desire to another, from one demand to another, from one distraction to another and from one attraction to another. Have you not noticed that the superficial layer is never still? It is always battling and striving, being very cunning in business, in law, cunning with God, with everything, it is so alive, so alert with knowledge and with education. So, how can such a mind be receptive? Surely, Sir, a room is useful only when it is empty and a conscious mind that is not empty is really a useless mind, it is no good for anything except modern civilization which is so utterly degraded and degenerated, because it is the product of the upper layer. The upper layer is mechanical, swift and cunning, ever safeguarding itself. Is not the modern civilization only mechanical and industrial, even though the upper layer may talk about beauty and the dance, and invest a great deal of money in education, in painting, in discussing the true dance, the unknown dance, the modern dance and so on? And if the upper layer of consciousness is not still, how can it be receptive, how can it receive intimations of things hidden, of things unknown? So the problem then is how to make the upper layer of the mind, that superficial layer of consciousness, act. But is that not a wrong question to put to oneself? Because, to make the superficial consciousness act is only another form of activity. `How' immediately becomes the problem and therefore you are back again where you were. What is important is to be aware of what is, aware that the superficial mind is restless, without denying or justifying it; aware of all its destructiveness and all its cleverness and its substitutions. And you will see that by being, not becoming, aware of it, the superficial consciousness becomes free to act. When you are interested in something you listen to it. You are observing now the picture which I am painting and therefore the superficial layer is very quiet. If there is any distraction, your listening becomes merely a distraction. So the difficulty lies not in making the superficial consciousness which you call mind quiet but in being aware of all the extraordinary and rapid activities of the mind. To slow it down is very difficult and you can do it only if every thought is followed through fully, without fear and without condemnation. As long as the conscious mind, the superficial layer, is agitated, restless, demanding, seeking, striving and translating, it cannot understand and it is only in the clarity of the upper layers of consciousness that it can receive intimations of the hidden. Question: You have realized reality. Can you tell us what God is? Krishnamurti: Sirs, how do you know that I have realized? To know that I have realized, you also must have realized. This is not just a clever answer. To know something you must be of it. You must yourself have had the experience also and therefore your saying that I have realized has apparently no meaning. And what does it matter if I have realized or have not realized? Is not what I am saying the truth? Even if I am the most perfect human being if what I say is not the truth why would you even listen to me? Surely, my realization has nothing whatever to do with what I am saying and the man who worships another because that other has realized is really worshipping authority and therefore he can never find the truth. And to understand what has been realized and to know him who has realized, is not at all important. Is it? I know the whole tradition says `be with a man who has realised.' How can you know that he has realized? All that you can do is to keep company with him, which is extremely difficult nowadays. There are very few good people, in the real sense of the word `good,' who are not seeking something, who are not after something. Those who are seeking something or are after something are exploiters and therefore it is very difficult for anyone to find a companion to love. We idealize those who have realized and hope that they will give us something which is again a false relationship. How can the man who has realized, communicate, if there is no love? That is our difficulty. In all our discussions we do not really love each other and we are suspicious. You want something from me, knowledge, realization, or you want to keep company with me all of which indicates that you do not love. You want something and therefore you are out to exploit. If we really love each other then there will be instantaneous communication. Then it does not matter if you have realized and I have not, or you are the high or the low. And since our heart has withered, God has become awfully important. That is, you want to know God because you have lost the song in your heart and you pursue the singer and ask him whether he can teach you how to sing. He can teach you the technique but the technique will not lead you to creation. You cannot be a musician by merely knowing how to sing. You may know all the steps of a dance but if you have not creation in your heart you are only functioning as a machine. You cannot love if your object is merely to achieve a result. There is no such thing as an ideal because that is merely an achievement. Beauty is not an achievement, it is reality, now, not tomorrow, and if there is love you will understand the unknown, you will know what God is, and nobody need tell you and that is the beauty of love. It is eternity in itself. And because we have no love we want someone else like God to give us that. If we really loved, not an ideal, do you know what a different world this would be? We would be really happy people. Therefore we would not invest our happiness in things, in family, in ideals. We would be happy and therefore things, family and ideals will not dominate our lives. They are all secondary things. Because we do not love and because we are not happy we invest in things, thinking that they will give us happiness and one of the things in which we invest is God. Now, you want me to tell you what reality is. Can the indescribable be put in words? Can you measure something immeasurable? Can you catch the wind in your fist? If you do, is that the wind? If you measure that which is the immeasurable, is that the real? If you formulate it, is that the real? Surely not, for the moment you describe something which is indescribable, it ceases to be the real. The moment you translate the unknowable into the known it ceases to be the unknowable and yet that is what we are hankering after. Every moment we want to know because then we will be able to continue, then we will be able to have ultimate permanency and happiness. We want to know because we are not happy, because we are striving miserably, because we are worn out and degraded; yet instead of realizing the simple fact that we are degraded, that we are dull, that we are weary, that everything is in turmoil, we want to move away from what is known into the known. That which is emphasized is still the known and therefore we can never find the real. Therefore, instead of asking who has realized, or what God is, why not give your whole attention and awareness to what is? Then you will find the unknown, or rather, it will come to you. If you understood what is known, you would experience that extraordinary silence, not induced, not enforced, that silence which is extraordinarily creative, that creative emptiness in which alone reality can enter. It cannot come to that which is becoming, which is striving, it can only come to that which is being, which understands what is. Then you will see that reality is not in the distance, the unknown is not far off, it is in what is. As the answer to a problem is in the problem, so reality is in what is, and if we can understand it then we shall know truth. But it is extremely difficult to be aware of dullness, to be aware of greed, to be aware of ill will, ambition and so on. And the very fact of being aware of what is, is truth. It is truth that liberates, not your striving to be free. So, reality is not far, but we place it far away because we use it as a means to self-continuity. It is here, now, in the immediate. The eternal or the timeless is now and the now cannot be understood by a man who is caught in the net of time. To free thought from time demands action because the mind is lazy, it is slothful and therefore ever creates other hindrances. It is only possible by right meditation, which means complete action,-not a continuous action, and complete action can only be understood when the mind understands the process of continuity, which is memory, not the factual, but the psychological memory and as long as memory functions, the mind cannot understand what is. And one's mind, one's whole being, becomes extraordinarily creative, passively alert when we understand the significance of ending, because in ending there is renewal while in continuity there is death, there is decay. November 23, 1947. MADRAS 7TH PUBLIC TALK 30TH NOVEMBER, 1947 I have talked a little about right relationship between yourself and myself, but I would like to go further into that matter. It seems to me that the attitude as between a teacher and a pupil is a wrong attitude. We can well understand a pupil going to a technician to learn engineering or the art of painting, dancing or music. But is that our relationship here? Are you actually learning anything from me? Or, are we trying together to unwrap something which is life, which is our every day existence, in which there is so much pain, so much strife and so much misery? Do we learn anything at all? Apart from technical subjects, do we learn anything, or does understanding come in spontaneously and freely? Is understanding the result of accumulation? You may have read a great many books, all the sacred literature, psychological, philosophical and other kinds of books. Do you gather understanding from books? Is not knowledge different from understanding and does the mere accumulation of knowledge yield understanding? So we ought to establish between ourselves the right relationship. I talk about it at every meeting and at every discussion we have, because it seems very important to me to establish the right communication between ourselves. The moment you approach another with the attitude of getting something profitable out of him, either financially or spiritually, surely you will cut off all communication. Does the false respect that we show, indicate understanding? You show me respect sometimes but most of the time for your servants and wives and neighbours there is contempt, disrespect, indifference, or callousness. So what is important? To show respect to a man who you think has something to give you and to be contemptuous, hard and brutal to others? And does learning constitute the whole of existence? If it did, we would certainly misinterpret existence. But if we can understand from moment to moment the whole significance of existence, then perhaps there will be joy, there will be happiness. But if you are out merely to learn, to accumulate, through which accumulation you translate further experience, then life becomes a series of monotonous tragedies, despair, ugliness and darkness. Then you are concerned merely with accumulating, and acquiring a standard by which to live. Surely you do not call that living? As it is, our existence is pretty awful and merely to understand verbally what is being said and use it as a pattern to translate everyday existence will not bring about understanding. Understanding comes when there is no effort, when there is a freshness. When you suddenly see something, is that because of accumulation of learning or of acquisition? Surely not. It comes in freedom. So we ought to establish right relationship not only between ourselves but also in our daily existence. Then we will see how extraordinarily swift life is and also how painful it is, and how our existence leads us nowhere. So, to understand the whole purpose of existence we must understand effort, because life or existence is sorrowful as we know it. There is nothing joyous. We are not happy people. Look at the strain, the turmoil that we go through. We are always in strife, we are always in struggle, there is never a moment's deep happiness when we can say `we are happy'. Do we know such moments? We are in constant battle with ourselves and with our neighbours. We are hedged in and bound and our whole existence is a strife; and as it is a constant effort, a constant battle, what is it all meant for? And as we do not know happiness, except at rare intervals, we have completely forgotten it. We do have rare happy moments when our everyday strife, struggle and phenomena stop, but we do not know how to sustain it. It seems to me that until we know how, our life will have no meaning. I think we will understand the significance of life if we understood what it means to make an effort. Does happiness come through effort? Have you ever tried to be happy? It is impossible, is it not? You struggle to be happy and there is no happiness. Is there? Joy does not come through suppression, through control or indulgence. You may indulge, but there is bitterness at the end. You may suppress or control but there is always strife in the hidden. So, happiness does not come through effort, nor joy through control and suppression and still all our life is a series of suppressions, series of controls, a series of regretful indulgences. Also there is a constant overcoming, a constant struggle with our passions, our greed and our stupidity. So is not the strife, the struggle, the effort that we make, in the hope of finding happiness, finding something which will give us a feeling of peace, a sense of love? Yet, does love or understanding come by strife? So, I think it is very important to understand what we mean by struggle, strife or effort. First we must be free to see that joy and happiness do not come through effort. Is creation through effort or is there creation only with the cessation of effort? When do you write, paint or sing? When do you create? Surely when there is no effort, when you are completely open, when on all levels you are in complete communication, completely integrated. Then there is joy and then you begin to sing, or write a poem or paint or make a form. The moment of creation is not born of struggle. So, we must very clearly understand this whole problem of struggle and strife. I know there are many, many ramifications, many different sides to it. But if we can understand the core of the problem of effort and its significance, then we can translate that into our daily life. But, if you merely approach the central issue through the part, I am afraid you will not understand the significance of effort. Does not effort mean a struggle to change `what is' into what it is not, or into what it should be or should become? That is, we are constantly struggling to avoid facing `what is', or we are trying to get away from it or to transform or modify `what is'. A man who is truly content is the man who understands `what is', gives the right significance to `what is'. That is true contentment; it is not concerned with having few or many possessions, but with the understanding of the whole significance of `what is' and that can only come when you recognize what is, when you are aware of it, not when you are trying to modify it or change it. So, effort is a strife or a struggle to transform that which is into something which you wish it to be. I am only talking about psychological struggle, not the struggle with a physical problem like engineering or some discovery or transforma- tion which is purely technical. I am talking only of that struggle which is psychological and which always overcomes the technical. You may build with great care a marvellous society, using the infinite knowledge science has given us. But as long as the psychological strife and struggle and battle are not understood, and the psychological overtones and currents are not overcome, the structure of society, however marvellously built is bound to crash, as has happened over and over again. So, effort is a distraction from `what is'. Sirs, if I may suggest, think it over and you will see. The moment I accept `what is' there is no struggle. Any form of struggle or strife is an indication of distraction and distraction which is effort must exist as long as psychologically I wish to transform `what is' into something it is not. Take for example `anger'. Can anger be overcome by effort, by various methods and techniques, by meditations and various forms of transforming `what is' into what is not? Now, suppose that instead of making an effort to transform anger into non-anger, you accepted or acknowledged that you are angry, what would happen then? You would be aware that you are angry, What would happen? Would you indulge in anger? Please follow what I am talking about and you will see. If you are aware that you are angry, which is `what is', and knowing the stupidity of transforming `what is, into what is not, would you still be angry? If instead of trying to overcome anger, modifying or changing it, you accepted it and looked at it, if you were completely aware of it, without condemning or justifying it, there would be an instantaneous change. But this is extremely difficult because our whole tendency is to transform or deny. We deny ugliness thinking that we shall achieve beauty. Surely virtue is not the denial of vice; virtue is only the recognition of vice. The moment I know that I am angry and I do not try to transform my anger I cease to be angry. You try it, you experiment with yourself and you will see how extraordinary it is, how extraordinary is the creative quality of understanding `what is'. Similarly there cannot be freedom if there is no virtue. As I said last Sunday the stupid man is an unvirtuous man. He is disorderly. He creates havoc in society, not because he is unvirtuous but because he is stupid and to be virtuous requires the highest form of intelligence; to bring order within yourself requires an extraordinary capacity to see things as they are. When you recognize the false as false there is freedom. That is, freedom can only be approached negatively, not positively and to see the false is to see the true and there can only be freedom in virtue, in understanding, and not in becoming which is but the transforming of `what is' into something else. This is the process of becoming: `I will become this or that today or ten lives from now', `I will become a pupil in my next life', `I will be virtuous the day after tomorrow', and so on. Surely all such ways of thinking are indicative of real stupidity, because they imply transforming `what is' into something it is not. Surely you cannot make `anger' into `non-anger'. If you understand anger, that is, if you are aware of it fully, without condemnation, justification or identification, just aware that you are angry, that you are jealous, that you are greedy, that you are full of ill will, then you will see an extraordinary thing taking place; your anger or jealousy drops away. It drops away spontaneously. It is only when we are not aware of exactly `what is', that we make the effort to transform it. So, effort is non-awareness. The moment you are aware, which is neither to condemn nor justify, the moment you accept, look and observe what is, there is no effort; then the thing that you observe, that which is, that which you are aware of, has an extraordinary significance. If you pursue that significance through, you complete that thought and therefore the mind is freed from it. So, awareness is non-effort, awareness is to perceive the thing as it is without distortion. Distortion exists whenever there is effort. When you love completely, every thought comes with such joy, clarity and happiness. This can only happen when there is integration and when there is no effort. Maturity or integration can only come when there is complete awareness of `what is'. Many questions have been sent to me. As I said before, you can ask innumerable questions, but you will not have the right answer if the questioner himself is not in earnest. As I leave, you give me your questions in writing or ask them verbally but I am afraid most of you are not aware of what you are asking. To find the right answer to a question we must study the problem, not merely wait for an answer. Life is not a series of conclusions, of `yes' or `no'. Life is a series of responses and challenges and it depends on you how you respond. To know how to respond requires immense study; immense self-knowledge gained not through tricks, not through gurus, but by yourself in your every day action and thought. My answers are only indications towards self-revelation. If you wait for a conclusion or an assertion from me you are going to be disappointed. But if together we study the problem, we will see and understand its many implications. So, please bear in mind that in answering these questions I am not offering you any conclusions, because that which is concluded is not the truth. Life is movement, not continuity, and if we seek a conclusion or an answer, `yes' or `no' we are making life very small; and we want `yes' or `no' because our minds are small. If we recognize with our minds our smallness we can then proceed. Question: I am very seriously disturbed by the sex urge. How am I to overcome it? Krishnamurti: Sirs, this is an enormous problem. The implications are extraordinarily profound and wide. There are many, many things involved in this question, not merely sex, which is only of secondary importance. So, please bear with me if I do not tell you how to overcome the sex urge; but we are going to study the problem together, to see what is involved and as we study the problem, you will find the right answer for yourself. First, let us understand the problem of overcoming. How am I to overcome anger, jealousy? What happens when you overcome an enemy? It is always possible to overcome him. I may overcome you because I am stronger, but you may be stronger presently and you will overcome me. So, it is a game of constantly overcoming. That which can be overcome has to be overcome or conquered over and over again. Please see the significance of that simple statement. Whereas if you understand something, it is over. Take the wars that have been going on in Europe, the overcoming of one country by another; they have been doing that for the past two thousand years all over the world. But, if they had said `let us sit down and understand and not fight and kill each other', surely there would have been an understanding of peace. So, there is overcoming, but understanding is much more difficult than conquering, than controlling, because understanding requires thought, wise observation, examination and tentative approach, which means intelligence. A stupid man can always overcome something. The advice that you must strive and overcome is a real folly, which does not mean that you must give in, indulge, which is the opposite and therefore equally foolish, if there is a problem, as the questioner has, of sex, we must understand it and not merely ask: how can it be overcome? That which has been overcome has to be conquered and reconquered again and again. Have you ever conquered? Did you not have to repeat it over and over again because it reappeared in ten other ways? So, surely that is not the way to understand the problem. Where there is a justification of overcoming, where there is condemnation or identification, surely there can be no understanding. You will have understanding only when you consider the problem, when you accept it, look at it, become aware of its significance completely, and even love it. Then it will yield you its significance. Then, in it there is creativeness. Because all our pleasures are mechanical, sex has become the only pleasure which is creative. Religion has become mechanical. Authority has bound us mentally and emotionally and therefore you are blinded and blocked there. There is no creativeness in thinking about God. Is there? You do not find joy in thinking about God? It gives you emotional satisfaction. One has to be happy and joyous, which is surely the highest form of religion. But merely following authority, tradition, going to the temple, repeating mantrams, attending to the priests, surely that is not religion. That is mere repetition and what happens if you repeat? Your mind becomes dull, there is no joy in it. So emotionally and intellectually we are starved. We are merely repeating. This is a fact. I am not saying something extraordinary. Emotionally we are machines carrying out a routine and the machine is not creative. A man may have habits but thereby he is not creative. He may recite mantrams, practise japams and all the rest of that nonsense, but he is not creative. Such a repetitive man has merely destroyed his clarity, the power to think, the power to perceive, to understand. See what society has done to us - our education, our routine of business, the gathering of money, the performing of awful duties and so on. In all this, is there a sense of joy? There is only perfect boredom. So, as we are hedged all-round by uncreative thinking, there is only one thing left to us, and that is sex. As sex is the only thing that is left, it becomes an enormous problem, whereas if we understood what it means to be creative religiously and emotionally, to be creative at all moments, when you love, when you cry; when you are aware of that directly, surely then sex would become an insignificant problem. But you see the difficulties. Passion or the biological urge is so strong, that religious societies through their tradition and laws have held you in restraint, but now that tradition and laws have little significance, you merely indulge in it. Another enormous thing which we have lost through this struggle and through this regimentation, is love. Sirs, love is chaste and without love merely to overcome or indulge in sex has no meaning. Without love, we have become what we are today, mere machines. If we look at our faces in the mirror we can see how unformed they are, how immature we are. We have produced children without love. Often we are emotionally driven without love and what kind of civilization do you expect to produce in that way? I know the religious books say that you must become a Brahmacharya to find God. Do you mean to say that you can find God without love? Brahmacharya is merely an idea, an ideal to be achieved. Surely that which you achieve through will, through condemnation, through conclusion will not lead you to reality, to God. What shows us the way to reality, to God, is understanding and not suppression, not substitution. To give up sex for the love of God, is only substitution, only sublimation, it is not understanding. So, if there is love there is chastity; but to become chaste is to become ugly, vicious and immature. So, look at our lives and see what we have done. We do not know how to love. Our life is merely an aspiring for position, for the continuance of ourselves through our families, through our sons and so on. But without love what is our life? Surely, mere suppression of passion does not solve anything, neither the brutal sex passion, nor the passion to become something. Surely they are both the same. You may suppress sex, but if you are ambitious to be something it is the same urge in another direction. It is equally brutal, equally vicious, equally ugly. But a man who has real love in his heart has no sorrow and to him sex is not a problem. But since we have lost love, sex has become a great problem and a difficult one because we are caught in it, by habit, by imagination and by yesterday's memory which threatens us and holds us. And why are we held by yesterday's memory? Again, because we are not creative human beings. Creation is constant renewal. That which was yesterday will never be again. There can only be today; not memory to which you give life. Memory is not creation, memory is not life. Memory does not give understanding, yet we hold on to it, to all the excitements of sex through memory. That gives us an extraordinary exhilaration, for that is the only thing we have. We are starved, empty; and the only thing we think of is to repeat, to recollect. What happens to a thing that is repeated over and over again? It becomes mechanical. There is no joy in it, and there is no creation. We are hedged in by fear, by anxiety, by the desire for security; but in order to understand this problem we must look at it from every side, consider all its aspects through the everyday excitements in newspapers and cinemas, the search for pleasure and all the luxuries, the sins, the half - hints, the education that we receive, which stifles all thinking, which prepares us to become something, which is the height of stupidity. We become lawyers, glorified clerks, but this education does not give us the culture of integration, the joy in living. We do not know how to look at a tree, we merely talk about it. And religiously, what are you? You go to the temple, you perform all the ceremonies and rituals. What are they? They are mere repetitions, vain repetitions. And our politics are mere gossip, cunning deceptions. Our whole existence being all that, how can there be creation for a man who is blind? How can he see? Surely he could see if he would throw off all the rotten rubbish around him. It would be like a storm that comes and sweeps away things that are not firm, and from that freedom there would be creation. But not only do we not want freedom, we do not want revolution either - I am not talking about political or outward revolution - we do not want the inward revolution. We prefer to go on with this monotonous uncreative existence. We are afraid of what we might find. So, the problem can only be solved in understanding ourselves and the utterly uncreative state we live in; and it is only through self-knowledge that creation can come into being, and that creation is reality or God, or whatever you may call it. It cannot come into being through repetition, through pleasurable habits, either religious or sexual. To understand ourselves is extremely arduous. If you go into this problem and become aware of its significance you will see what it reveals and that is what I have just now shown - a series of imitations, a series of habits, a series of clouds, and memories. This is what this question reveals, whether you like it or not. It is a fact, that occasionally a break in the clouds through which you see. But most of the time we are enclosed in our own cravings, wants and fears and naturally the only outlet is sex, which degenerates, enervates and becomes a problem. So, while looking at this problem, we begin to discover our own state, that is, `what is', not how to transform it, but how to be aware of it. Do not condemn it, do not try to sublimate it or find substitutions, or overcome it. Be simply aware of it, of all it means; your going to the temple, your sacred thread, your repetition, your family and so on. See how monotonous, how uncreative all of it is; how stupid it is. These are facts and you must be aware of them. Then you will feel a new breath, a new consciousness and the moment you recognize `what is', there is an instantaneous transformation; seeing the false as false is the beginning of wisdom but we cannot see the false if we are not aware of every moment of the day, of everything we say, feel and think, and you will see that out of that awareness comes that extraordinary thing called love and a man who loves is chaste, a man who loves is pure and knows life. Question: What are your views about the implications of the belief in reincarnation? Krishnamurti: Again, this is a vast subject. Again, as a means of self-discovery we will examine the problem; not to find a `yes' or `no' answer but as a means of understanding ourselves. There is so much to say and I must be brief. I can only give hints, point out certain significances, I cannot go into the whole problem, because it is immense. I do not know whether you see it in the same way I do. First of all, let us put aside the superficial responses and reactions to this question, one of which is that the person who wants a good time does not bother about reincarnation, about life after death. The person has a good time anyway, which means that he is not afraid to act as he pleases or else he is so stupid that he feels no responsibility for his actions. After all if you have to pay for your actions you are going to be very careful. If, in the business world, you know a mistake will make you lose, whether a small or a large amount, you will be very, very careful. So, fear has been used as a means to control man; that is what religions have done, what society does through its code of morality. For the moment we are not concerned with that aspect of the question. Neither are we concerned with belief, because belief, to a man who is seeking truth, has no significance whatever, as belief is merely a security, an anchorage, a haven. A man who seeks truth must travel the uncharted seas; he has no harbours, he has no havens, he must go out to explore. So, we can put aside also this aspect of the problem. Two things are implied in this question: continuation, and cause and effect. With regard to continuation, we must consider the idea that there is in each one of us a spiritual essence which continues. Now let us examine that idea. First, it is said in books and you also feel that there is a spiritual structure which continues after death. Please do not be on the defensive; I want to find out the truth about it. To accept an authority is to stop all thinking process. So, we are not going to accept what the sacred books say nor what you feel because after all what you feel is based on your desire for security. Now, is there a spiritual essence in man? Please consider the implications. All that is spiritual is in essence timeless, it is eternal. Surely, if that is so, the timeless, the eternal is beyond birth and death it is beyond time and space. So, you need not worry about things that are beyond time. It is not your concern. If it is timeless, if it is eternal, it is birthless and deathless, it has no time. If it has no time, it means there is no continuity; then why do you hold on to it? If it is timeless, it would not be continuous. But to you it is of time, because you cling to it. Therefore, it is not timeless. Therefore it is not spiritual in essence; because you have created it, therefore you cling to it. If it were real, it would be beyond your control. If it is true, you do not know it and, as I said before, if you know it, it is not true, and yet you cling to it. You say that there is a spiritual essence, which is the I, and that it continues, and at the same time you say it is timeless. So you have to understand the problem of continuity, which implies death, in order to know whether there is a spiritual entity or not. You have to understand death, which means you have to understand the whole problem of continuity. What continues in our everyday life? Memory through your own continuity, through your family, your belief; and as we seek continuity, psychological and physiological, we are afraid of death. Therefore, we want continuity. If continuity of this physical existence is denied us, we seek continuity in what we call `God.' Therefore, when we talk of reincarnation, we actually seek continuity. Now, what is it that continues? You, that is, your thinking, your memories, your day to day experiences. I identify myself with my memories, my property, my family, my beliefs and I continue and I want to be sure that that which continues, goes on. Therefore, I do not want to die, yet I know that I am going to die. So, how can I find continuity? Therefore, my problem is not to discover the truth about reincarnation, but to ensure my continuity. What is it which we say continues? What is that to which we hold on so desperately, so fearfully, so anxiously? Are they not memories? Sirs, remove your memories, and where are you? And those memories are given life by constant accumulation and by constant recollection. Memory in itself has no substance, no vitality. The moment I say `I remember' I am identifying myself with the past. That is, as long as a man who is the result of the past, is concerned with the results of the past, there must be continuity. And what happens to that which continues. Nothing, for it is only a habit. Habit is the only thing that can continue, and to which you give life from time to time. So, the thing which continues is memory, a dead thing to which you give life, which means that through a series of habits, accumulations and idiosyncrasies, the experiences are translated to produce all that you wish to have continued. Moreover, that which continues decays. That which is continuous is non-creative. So, this is what is principally involved in the question of reincarnation and this is the truth of it; not what a man says about it that it is a fact. If we really go into it, if we are aware of its significance, we will find that, that which is spiritual is timeless and therefore beyond our reach and therefore beyond continuity; for continuity is time - yesterday, today and tomorrow. And the more we cling to that spiritual essence, the more we are really distracted from it by false action, because the timeless cannot be known by the known. You talk about the spiritual essence, which is the I, therefore you must know it, therefore it is not the truth. I am not describing something which is not. Memory by itself is a dead thing. We give it life because it gratifies us. But where there is gratification there must be continuity, and gratification soon ends, but we revive it in another form, and so we keep going. And what is continuous is not immortal, what is continuous does not renew itself. It merely continues as a habit. It is only in renewal that there is creation, there is reality; but only in ending there is renewal, not in continuity. See the trees, they drop their leaves and fresh leaves come. They do not continue. Because we are afraid, we cling to our memories and a man who is living as a continuity is a dead man and I am afraid that is what we are doing. In this question there is also the problem of cause and effect. Are cause and effect two separate things or are they interrelated? The effect becomes the cause. So, there is never a moment which is alone either effect or cause. So, cause and effect are completely interrelated. They are not two separate processes; they are one because the effect has become the cause, and what was cause has become effect; but when we view cause apart from effect, there is an illusory time interval which leads us to the wrong conclusion and on this wrong conclusion all your philosophies are based. The cause passing through time becomes modified. The moment there is an effect, the cause cannot be in the distance. They are together although you may take time to perceive it. But the effect is where the cause is, that is, the moment you are aware of `what is,' which is the cause, the effect is also there. Therefore there is transformation. Please think over the implications and the real beauty of this. It means that if you understand `what is' there is immediate transformation. Therefore, there is a timeless change, not a change in time. We have been trained to believe, and we expect to change, in time, to become something tomorrow. But if you perceive the cause becoming the effect all the time and the effect becoming the cause all the time, then there is immediate understanding, therefore immediate `cessation' of cause. That is, Sirs, to make it very simple, when you are angry, instead of saying that you will do something about it tomorrow, if you would see immediately the cause of anger and recognize it, be aware of it, there would be immediate transformation, because then you are free from this idea, this illusion, this wrong way of thinking that only in time you can produce a result. The cause is in the effect. The end is in the means and so when we consider reincarnation we can consider it from both points of view, that of the believer and that of the non-believer, for both are caught in their beliefs, in their stupidity, and are therefore incapable of finding what is true. We must regard the problem as it is to ourselves. In being aware of this problem we see how marvellous a thing is self-knowledge, which is the beginning of wisdom. Self-knowledge, or seeing what is false in the I, is the beginning of intelligence; being aware of the stupid ways of thinking, is the beginning of understanding. Question: From your talks it seems clear that reason is the chief means to acquire self-knowledge. Is this so? Krishnamurti: What do you mean by reason? Can reason be separated from feeling? You have done it, because you have developed the intellect and nothing else. it is like a three-legged object, one leg of which is much longer than the others and therefore it cannot stay balanced. That is what has happened to us. We are highly intellectual. We are trained to be such. Our education, our way of life is geared to intellectual capacity in the highest degree. And we have used intellect as a means of finding reality. The books you read, the practices you follow, everything you do helps you to develop the intellect and therefore reason has become extraordinarily important in your life, in your devices and your actions. But intellect is only a part, not the whole. To understand reality and to reason are two different things. Without reason - at least what I mean by reason - we cannot live. Reason is balance, integration. Reason must understand reason to find reality. But reason as we know it now, is intellection and it can never yield anything but disruption, as is being seen all over the world just because the world worships intellect. Intellect is producing such havoc, degradation and misery, but that is not reason, it is merely intellectuality concerned only with the superficial, responding to the immediate challenge. But there is a reason which is integration, maturity, which is completeness. Reason must go beyond itself to find reality. To put it differently, as long as there is thinking there cannot be the real, because thinking is the product of the past, thinking is of time, the response to time, therefore thinking can never be the timeless. Thinking must come to an end. Then only can the timeless be. But the thinking process cannot be violated, suppressed, disciplined; the mind must understand itself as being the result of emotions, of memory, of the past. The mind must be aware of itself and its activities. When the mind is aware of its being, you will find that there comes an extraordinary silence, a stillness, when that which is the result of the past no longer functions, in conjunction with the present. Then there is only silence, not a hypnotic silence, but the silence which is stillness. It is in this state that creativeness can take place, and it is the real. To find this stillness, reason must transcend itself. Mere intellectuality which has no significance, has nothing to do with reality and a man who is merely logical, reasonable, who uses intellect very carefully, can never find that which is. A man who is integrated has a different kind of reasoning process, which is intelligence yet even his intelligence, his reasoning must transcend itself. Then there is stillness which is happiness, which is ecstasy. November 30, 1947 MADRAS 8TH PUBLIC TALK 7TH DECEMBER, 1947 Before I answer the many questions that have been put to me I would like to make one or two remarks. First, I wish to make a very brief resume of what I have been saying, and then I would like to suggest how the answers to the questions should be received. It seems to me that it would be a really beautiful world, if there were no teachers and no disciples. I wonder if you have ever considered why there come to be teachers and disciples; why we look to another for enlightenment, for encouragement, for guidance? Would it not be a peaceful and orderly world, if there were neither the seeker nor the thing which he seeks? The thing which he seeks originates, does it not, from a desire for gain and therefore out of this desire comes conflict. As long as one desires to profit, whether spiritually or materially, there is conflict between man and man and if we can understand the significance of this idea of gain, perhaps, we shall find real peace, and thereby abolish the division between the teacher and the disciple and the extraordinary fear that exists between the disciple and the master though the disciple calls it love. We are caught in the process of acquisition and we realize its painful nature and so we wish to get out of that process and this gives birth to duality, does it not? That is, I want to gain and the desire to gain entails always fear and fear naturally creates duality and then the conflict of the opposites begins. Now, does not one opposite contain the germ of its own opposite? That is, if virtue is the opposite of vice, is it virtue? I do not know if you have thought along these lines, but if you observe you will find that any opposite always contains its own opposite, that is, if vice is the opposite of virtue, virtue contains vice and therefore virtue is not the opposite of vice and so if we can understand this conflict the opposite ceases. I think it is very important to understand this point because most of us are caught in this problem of opposites, greed and non - greed, ignorance and knowledge and so on, and being caught in it, what must one do? The problem then is how to overcome it. Now, is there a problem at all or have we merely misunderstood the conflict altogether? That is, if we can understand the fact itself, anger for instance, then the conflict of its opposite ceases; that is, if we can understand `what is', the problem of duality in which is implied the existence of evil, ceases. I think it is of the utmost importance to understand this problem of opposites as it exists in our daily life; is there ever any way out of the opposites or is the only way through the understanding of the fact itself, without any attempt to overcome it by its opposite? In other words, `what is' can only be understood through awareness, not through condemnation or justification; it is important to understand fear itself and not try to escape into its opposite and thereby create the conflict of the opposites. I am not going further into this problem now because I have many questions to answer; but, I want to point out the difficulty of understanding ourselves, of being aware through self-knowledge, of what you are thinking, what you are feeling and what you are doing. If we do not understand the dual process of our own activities, our own feelings and thoughts, we have no basis for right thinking. To be aware of ourselves is extremely arduous. It does not require book knowledge. To know ourselves is to reach the source of wisdom and this is not mere hearsay nor mere assertion. If you begin to inquire, to be aware choicelessly of yourself in everything that you do, you will soon discover what extraordinary depths thought can plumb and how free this awareness is. Question: You have often talked of relationship. What does it mean to you? Krishnamurti: First of all there is no such thing as being isolated. There is no existence in isolation. To be, is to be related and without relationship there is no existence. Now, what do we mean by relationship? It is an interconnected challenge and response between two people, between you and me, the challenge which you throw out and which I accept, or to which I respond; also the challenge I throw out to you. So, the relationship of two people creates society; society is not independent of you and me; the mass is not by itself a separate entity, but you and I in our relationship to each other create the mass, the group, the society. So, relationship is the awareness of inter-connection between two people and what is that relationship generally based on? Is it not based on so-called interdependence, mutual assistance? At least we say it is mutual help, mutual aid and so on, but, actually, apart from words, apart from the emotional screen which we throw up against each other, what is it based upon? On mutual gratification, is it not? If I do not please you, you get rid of me, if I please you, you accept me either as your wife or as your neighbour or as your friend. That is the actual fact. So, relationship is sought where there is mutual satisfaction, gratification, and when you do not find that satisfaction you change relationship, either you divorce, or you remain together but seek gratification elsewhere or else you move from one relationship to another till you find what you seek, which is satisfaction, gratification and a sense of self-protection and comfort. After all that is our relationship in the world and that is the actual fact. So, relationship is sought where there can be security, where you as an individual can live in a state of security, in a state of gratification, in a state of ignorance, all of which always creates conflict, does it not? If you do not satisfy me and I am seeking satisfaction, naturally there must be conflict, because we are both seeking security in each other and when that security becomes uncertain you become jealous, you become violent, you become possessive and so on. So, relationship invariably results in possession, in condemnation, in self-assertive demands for security, for comfort and for gratification and in that there is naturally no love. We talk about love, we talk about responsibility, duty, but there is really no love, and relationship is based on gratification, the effect of which we see in the present civilization. The way we treat our wives, children, neighbours, friends is an indication that in our relationship there is really no love at all. it is merely a mutual search for gratification and as this is so, what then is the purpose of relationship? What is its ultimate significance? Surely, if you observe yourself in relationship with others, do you not find that relationship is a process of self-revelation? Does not my contact with you reveal my own state of being if I am aware, if I am alert enough to be conscious of my own reaction in relationship? So, relationship really is a process of self-revelation which is a process of self-knowledge and in that revelation there are many unpleasant things, disquieting, uncomfortable thoughts, activities and since I do not like what I discover I run away from a relationship which is not pleasant to a relationship which is pleasant. So, relationship has very little significance when we are merely seeking mutual gratification, but relationship becomes extraordinarily significant when it is a means of self-revelation and self-knowledge. After all there is no relationship in love, is there? It is only when you love something and expect a return of your love that there is a relationship. But when you love, that is, when you give yourself over to something entirely, wholly, then there is no relationship. Is relationship a mutual gratification or is it a process of self-revelation? There is no gratification in love there is no self-revelation in love. You just love. Then what happens? If you do love, if there is such a love, then it is a marvellous thing. In such love there is no friction, there is not the one and the other there is complete unity. It is a state of integration, a complete being. There are such moments, such rare, happy, joyous moments, when there is complete love, complete communion. But what generally happens is that love is not what is important but the other, the object of love becomes important; the one to whom love is given becomes important and not love itself. Then the object of love, for various reasons either biological verbal, or because of a desire for gratification, for comfort and so on, becomes important and love recedes Then possession, jealousy and demands create conflict and love recedes further and further, and the further it recedes, the more the problem of relationship loses its significance, its worth and its meaning. So, love is one of the most difficult things to comprehend. It cannot come through an intellectual urgency, it cannot be manufactured by various methods and means an disciplines. It is a state of being when the activities of the self have ceased but they will not cease if you merely suppress them, shun them or discipline them. You must understand the activities of the self in all the different layers of consciousness. We have moments when we do love, when there is no thought, no motive but those are rare we cling to them in memory and thus create a barrier between living reality and the action of our daily existence. So, in order to understand relationship it is important to understand first of all `what is', what is actually taking place in our lives, in all the different subtle forms and also what relationship actually means. Relationship is self-revelation and it is because we do not want to be revealed to ourselves that we hide in comfort and then relationship loses its extraordinary depth, significance and beauty. There can be true relationship only when there is love but love is not the search for gratification. Love exists only when there is self forgetfulness, when there is complete communion, not between one or two, but communion with the highest, and that can only take place when the self is forgotten. Question: The Theosophical Society announced you to be the Messiah and world teacher. Why did you leave the Theosophical Society and renounce the Messiahship? Krishnamurti: I have receive several questions of the kind and I thought I would answer them. It is not frightfully important, but I will try to answer them. First of all let us examine the whole question of organizations. There is a rather lovely story of a man who was walking along the street and behind him were two strangers. As he walked along, he saw something very bright and he picked it up and looked at it and put it in his pocket and the two men behind him observed this and one said to the other: "This is a very bad business for you, is it not?" and the other who was the devil answered: "No, what he picked up is truth. But I am going to help him organize it". You see it! Can truth be organized? Can you find truth through an organization? Must you not go beyond and above all organizations to find truth? After all why do all spiritual organizations exist? They are based on different beliefs, are they not? You believe in one thing and somebody else believes in it too and around that belief you form an organization and what is the result? Beliefs and organizations are for- ever separating people, keeping people apart; you are a Hindu, I am a Muslim, you are a Christian and I am a Buddhist. Beliefs throughout history have acted as a barrier between man and man, and any organization based on a belief must inevitably bring war between man and man as it has done over and over again. We talk of brotherhood, but if you believe differently from me I am ready to cut your throat; we have seen it happen over and over again. Are organizations necessary? You understand that I am not talking about organizations formed for the mutual convenience of man in his daily existence; I am talking of the psychological and the so-called spiritual organizations. Are they necessary? They exist on the supposition that they will help man to realize truth and they are a means of propaganda: you want to tell others what you think, or what you have learned, what appears to you to be a fact. And is truth propaganda? What is truth to someone, when propagated surely ceases to be the truth for another. Does it not? Surely, reality, God or whatever you call it, is not to be propagated. It is to be experienced by every one for himself and that experience cannot be organized; the moment it is organized, propagated, it ceases to be the truth, it becomes a lie, therefore a hindrance to reality, because after all, the real, the immeasurable cannot be formulated, cannot be put into words, the unknown cannot be measured by the known, by the word, and when you measure it, it ceases to be the truth, therefore it ceases to be the real and therefore it is a lie, and therefore generally propaganda is a lie. And organizations that are supposed to be based on the search for truth, founded for the search of the real, become the propagandists' instruments, and so they cease to be of any significance; not only this particular organization in question but all spiritual organizations, become means of exploitation. They acquire property and property becomes awfully important; seeking members and all the rest of that business begins; they will not find truth for the obvious reason that the organization becomes more important than the search for reality. And no truth can be found through any organization because truth comes when there is freedom and freedom cannot exist when there is belief, for belief is merely the desire for security and a man who is caught in his need for security can never find that which is. Now, with regard to Messiahship, it is very simple. I have never denied it and I do not think it matters very much whether I have or have not. What is important to you is whether what I say is the truth. So, don't go by the label, don't give importance to a name. Whether I am the world teacher or the Messiah or something else is surely not important. If it is important to you then you will miss the truth of what I am saying because you will judge by the label and the label is so flimsy. Somebody will say that I am the Messiah and somebody else will say, that I am not and where are you? You are in the same confusion and the same misery, in the same conflict. So, surely, it is of very little significance. I am sorry to waste your time on this question. But whether I am or I am not the Messiah is of very little importance. But what is important is to find out, if you are really earnest, whether what I say is the truth and you can only find out whether what I say is truth by examining it, by being aware now, of what I am saying and finding out whether what I am saying can be worked out in daily life. What I am saying is not so very difficult to understand. The intellectual person will find it very difficult because his mind is perverted and a man of devotion also will find it extremely difficult, but the man who is really seeking will understand because of its simplicity. And what I am saying cannot be put into a few words and I am not going to attempt to say it in a few words because my answers to the questions and the various talks which I have given will reveal if you are interested in what I am saying. Question: On two or three occasions in the course of the talks I have attended, I have become conscious, if I may venture to describe the experience properly, of standing in the presence of one vast void of utter silence and solitude for a fraction of a second. It feels as though I am at the entrance but dare not step into it. What feeling is this? Is it some hallucination, self-suggested, in the present stormy turbulent condition in which our daily life is passed? Krishnamurti: There is always the danger, is there not, when one feels very strongly that one gets caught up in that feeling. That is how propaganda works, is it not? If you hear over and over again that you must destroy the Muslim or the Christian or the Buddhist or the German and when it is repeated endlessly, one is caught in that noise of repetition and swept off into certain kinds of action. But, during these talks and discussions there have been moments when we discussed and felt very deeply, when we perceived for ourselves certain states of consciousness and because we reached a point of great understanding and great depth, there was silence, there was no noise. It was absolute silence. But it becomes hallucination, if it is due to self-hypnosis; that is, if you yourself, during the discussion or talk, have not followed it and experienced it directly for yourself. Then such silences, such extraordinary states of being become escapes from the ordinary storm, from the every day conflict of existence. So, there is always the danger of being influenced by another for the good as well as for the bad. But, the fact that you have been influenced indicates that you can be influenced and therefore the question is not whether you should or should not be influenced for the good, but whether you should be influenced at all. If you can be influenced for the good, you can also be influenced for the bad; we have seen it happen over and over again and the bad wins more often than the good as indicated by the repeated wars and catastrophes that go on in the world almost constantly. So, the problem is not whether you should enter this thought, this silence, this creative state of being, but whether you have come to it through understanding or through influence, through persuasion or through your own careful, wise experience and understanding. Unless you have come to it through your own understanding, not merely intellectually and verbally, it has no meaning, for really there is no such thing as intellectual understanding; understanding is complete, whole and not partial. But if you come to that stillness through understanding, through being aware, it brings about the cessation of those conflicts and then through that understanding there is quietness and in that quietness and in that solitude, in that loneliness, there is reality. It is not that you are afraid to enter it, you cannot enter it. It must come to you, because if you go to it, you can only go to the known. If it comes to you it is the unknown, therefore the real. But, if you go to it, you have already formulated what it is and therefore that towards which you go is the known and therefore not the real. Therefore it must come to you. All greatness, like love, comes to you. If you pursue love it will never come, but if you are open, still, not demanding, it will come. So, the question of influence is really very important because we all want to be influenced, we all want to be encouraged, because in ourselves we are uncertain, we are confused. And this is where the danger lies, in looking to another for clarification, for understanding. Clarification and understanding cannot be given to you by another, no matter who he is. Understanding or clarification comes when the mind is single, free, not distracted by effort. When you are interested in something, keen about it, you give your whole being to it. You are not distracted and in that giving of yourself, in order to find out what is true there comes that quietness, that amazing creative emptiness, that absolute silence, unenforced and uninvited, and in that silence the real comes into being. Question: You have said that a mind in bondage is vagrant, restless, disorderly. Will you please explain further what you mean? Krishnamurti: To understand this question we must consider the whole problem of meditation and I hope you will not be too fatigued to follow this question and the things involved in the problem itself. I do not know if you have noticed that a mind that is in bondage, held by an idea or by a problem, is always restless, because it is always seeking an answer to the problem. Therefore it is always wandering. A mind that is in prison is always seeking freedom and therefore it is restless, but if it questions the prison itself, the bondage itself, then it is quiet because then it is pursuing the truth of that bondage and therefore not wandering away from the problem; the bondage is the problem itself. The moment you are aware of a bondage, what happens? You want to free yourself from it. You want to understand it and therefore you are striving to do something about it. That means restlessness, disorder, vagrancy, but if you are interested, not in the solution of the problem but in the problem itself, which contains its own answer, then surely the mind becomes free, concentrated, because it no longer seeks a solution, but understands the problem itself; therefore the mind becomes extremely effective, clear and capable of pursuing swiftly every movement. So, meditation then is the understanding of the problem itself which contains its own answer. Meditation is not mere repetition of words, mantrams, japams, or sitting in front of a picture or an image. Meditation is not prayer or a concentration, as I explained before. Meditation is thought freeing itself from time because through time the timeless cannot be comprehended, and as the mind is the product of time, thought must cease if the real is to be. And the whole process of meditation causes thought to come to an end and it is very important to comprehend this because thought is the product of time, the experience of yesterday, thought is caught in the net of time and that which is of time can never comprehend that which is timeless, the eternal. So, our problem then is to understand that the mind which is constantly creating time, is the product of time and therefore whatever it produces, whatever it fabricates, whatever it formulates, whatever it creates, is of time, whether it creates the Paramatman, or the Brahman or an idea or a machine. As thought is founded upon the past which is time, it cannot understand the timeless and therefore meditation is a process of freeing thought from time which means that thought must come to an end. Have you ever experimented with it? Have you not found how extraordinarily difficult it is for thought to come to an end because no sooner does one thought come into being than another pursues it, and so thought is never completed; and meditation is to carry one thought through right to the end, because that which ends knows renewal, that which is continuous is of time and therefore in that there is no renewal. How then can one complete thought? This is the problem, for that which is complete has no continuity. That which is complete has an ending and therefore a renewal. So, how is thought to come to an end? Thought can only come to an end when the thinker understands himself; the thinker and the thought are not two separate processes. The thinker is the thought, and the thinker separates himself from his thought for his self-protection, for his continuance, for his permanency and therefore the thinker is continually producing thought which is transforming, changing and gratifying. So, you have to understand the thinker, which means the thinker is not separate from the thought. Remove the thoughts, where is the thinker? Remove the qualities and where is the self, remove a man's property, his qualities, where is he? He is nonexistent. Similarly remove the thoughts of the thinker, where is the thinker? Surely there is no thinker when the thought process is removed, which means we must complete every thought that arises whether good or bad; and to complete every thought through to its end is extremely arduous because it involves a slowing down of the mind. As a fast revolving motor cannot be understood save through being slowed down, so too, a mind which is to understand itself must slow itself down. Again, it is a very arduous task to have a mind go slowly, so that you can follow every thought through. But most of our minds are not moving, they are only vagrant, they are all over the place, disjointed, disorderly, confused; and to bring order out of that confusion and vagrancy, you will have to follow each thought through. In order to follow each thought through, write it down and you will see. Experiment with it, and you will see. Write down every thought if only for a period of two minutes. As in the case of a film, the quick movements cannot be followed and only when the film is slowed down can you follow the movements. Similarly a mind that is too fast, I should not say `fast', - because most of our minds are not fast, they are disjointed, wandering, vagrant, - such a mind can only be understood by slowing it down and it can only be slowed down by pursuing every thought as it comes. As you are listening to me your mind is slowed down and not wandering because you are following my thoughts; and as I am concentrated on what I am talking about, and as it is not mere intellection or verbal assertion, but an actual experience, you are following it actually, which indicates that you can slow down your mind and follow each thought through. But since you cannot be with me all the time, I suggest, you write down every thought and experiment with it and you will see what an extraordinary thing takes place. Your condemnations, your identifications or prejudices etc., will come out before a consciousness that is empty and one that is now capable of complete silence. A consciousness that is filled with all kinds of memories, traditions, racial prejudices, national demands, can never be still. And you will see that in that process, when thought frees itself from time, it is not possible to indulge in certain activities. The other day a man came to see me and he wanted to find `peace' as he called it, peace of mind. He wanted to find God and he also stated that he was a speculator. That is what we too want. We all want peace of mind, happiness, love and tranquillity and yet we are caught in those activities that are not quite orderly, that are not peaceful; we are caught in viciousness, in professions that are destructive such as of the lawyer, the soldier, the police, and so on. So, the understanding of the process of the mind will itself create a crisis in your daily life and you do not have to invite a crisis. It will create it and if you pursue further that crisis, then when the storm ceases there comes quietness like that of the pool when the breeze stops. So, the problems that are self-created come to an end, and there is silence, a silence that is not induced or compelled, but a silence which is free from all problems and in that silence that which is unutterable comes into being. Question: Does not the belief in reincarnation explain inequality in society? Krishnamurti: What a callous way of resolving a problem! Does it resolve the problem? Does your belief in reincarnation resolve the problem? Everything goes on; has your belief altered that suffering? You have only explained it away to suit your convenience, but inequality remains. And can inequality be explained by a belief, by a theory, whether the theory is of the right or of the left whether it is an economic theory or a spiritual theory? When you believe in certain forms of socialism, either of the extreme left or of the modified left, does inequality cease because of the theory? Because you believe in reincarnation, that is in a progressive growth, which puts you a little higher than the other fellow because you are economically and socially better off, that theory comforts you; for you also believe that because you have worked and suffered in the past now you have earned the right to something, a spiritual bank account. Therefore you feel that you are a little superior and the other fellow is a little bit under you, until he in turn will come up but somebody will always be below and somebody always above. Surely, this is the most extraordinary way of regarding life, is it not, the most brutal and callous way of explaining it. You want explanations and explanations seem apparently to satisfy you whether they are political, or religious. Surely, reincarnation or the belief in reincarnation is no solution for any of the difficulties. Is it? It is merely a postponement, an explanation but the facts are `inequality', the untouchables, the Brahmin and the non-Brahmin or the vicious commissar and the poor devil who works for the commissar; the fact remains that there is division and no kind of explanation however beautiful, however callous, however scientific is going to eliminate it. I am sorry, some of you seem rather bored by this question but we will have to go into it. And how is this inequality to be overcome? Can inequality be wiped away by a system, economic social or religious? Can a system, of the left or of the right, religious or any other kind, dispel the actual fact that men like to divide themselves into superiors and inferiors? Revolutions have taken place but they have not produced equality, though in the beginning they maintained that there must be equality; and yet when the revolution has been accomplished, when the froth, when the excitement is over, there is still inequality, the boss, the tyrant dictator and all the rest of the ugly business of existence. No government, no theory can wipe that out and to look to a theory, look to a belief is to be the most stupid, callous person. You look to a belief, to a system when your hearts are dry, when you have no love; then systems become important. Surely, when you love somebody, there is no equality or inequality. There is neither the prostitute nor the righteous. To the man caught up in his righteousness, there is division. So, belief is not the solution, a system is not the way to equalize. You may equalize economically, but even then that economic equalization becomes unimportant as long as the psychological inequality exists; and this cannot be wiped out by economic systems. So, the only solution and the true one, and the lasting one, is love, affection, kindliness, and mercy. But love is extremely difficult for a man who is caught up in activities of unmercy, in competition, in ruthlessness. Being caught up in gratifying means, through acquisition, he must find an explanation and reincarnation satisfies him. He can pursue his monstrous, ugly ways and yet feel that he is all right. Sirs, belief is not a substitution for love and because we do not know love, because we do not know what love is, we indulge in theories and practices, we search for systems, economic and social or religious, that will dissolve this monstrous inequality. When you love there is neither the intellectual nor the dull, neither the sinner nor the righteous. And it is a marvellous thing to be so free, and only love can give that freedom and not a belief and love is possible only when beliefs drop away, when you are not looking to a system, when you become human and not mechanical. How little we love in our daily life! You don't love your sons, your daughters, your wives or your husbands and because you do not know them, you do not know yourselves. And, when we know ourselves more and more, we begin to understand the significance of love and love is the most extraordinary factor in life because it resolves all our difficulties. It is not a mere assertion or my say-so, but you try and drop all your aggressions, competitions, pursuits and be simple and you will find love. The man who is simple does not bother to know who is superior and who is inferior, who is the master, who is the disciple because he is content with what he is and the understanding of `what is' brings love and happiness. Question: I have made the rounds of various teachers and I would like to know from you what is the purpose of life? Krishnamurti: It is a very odd fact in life, this pursuit of gurus. You know how ladies especially do a great deal of `window-shopping; they go from window to window looking from the outside to see what dress or what else they would buy if they had the money. Similarly there are many who indulge in this peculiar game of going from guru to guru, always window shopping. What happens to such people? What happens, Sirs, when you go from guru to guru, from teacher to teacher? You get emotionally excited, stretched, and when you keep on stretching, stimulating yourself artificially, what happens? The elasticity of emotion wears out. Does it not? Keep on stretching artificially, stimulated first by one and then by another, and you lose all feeling; your elasticity, quickness, pliability are gone. Why do you go from guru to guru, from teacher to teacher? Obviously for protection, but where do you find protection always? With the teacher who gratifies you. The teacher who protects you is your own gratification. If the teacher tells you to give up and become very simple, nice, kindly, loving, you will not go to him and if he tells you to meditate, to prostrate yourself at his feet, then you will follow him, because that is a child's game. If you feel very comfortable in his presence you go, because that again is very easy. But, if he demands something beyond your miserable comforts and security, then you go and find another teacher. So, this pursuit of the guru makes the mind dull and the emotion weak, and the original strength and vitality are lost. What has happened to all of you who have followed gurus? You have lost that extraordinary sensitivity, quickness of thought and depth of emotion. It is obvious, is it not? It is the truth. That is one part of the question. The other part concerns the purpose of life. Apparently, the questioner must have been told by the various teachers what the purpose of life is and now, he wants to add my views to his collection, to see which is the best, which is the most suitable. Sirs, it is all so infantile, so immature. I know the person who wrote this question, a married man in a responsible position. See the tragedy of it. He wants to find out from someone, make a collection of purposes of life and choose one out of them. Sirs, it is tragic, not laughable. It shows the state of mind of the majority of us. We are mature in office, in bringing up children, in getting money, but immature in thought and in life. We do not know what it means to love. So, the questioner wants to know what is the purpose of life. How are you going to find out? Shall I tell you what it means, or must you not find out for yourself what the purpose of life is. To remain at the office day after day, month after month, pursuing money, position, power, ambition, is that the purpose of life? Is it the purpose of life to worship graven images, to perform rituals without significance, without meaning indulge in mere repetition? Is it the purpose of life to acquire virtue and be walled in by barren righteousness? If the purpose of life is none of these then what is it? To find what is the purpose of life, must you not go beyond all these? Then you will find out. Then you need not seek out the purpose of life. Surely the man in sorrow is not seeking the purpose of life, he wants to be free of sorrow. But you see, we do not suffer. Rather, we suffer and we escape from our suffering and therefore we do not understand suffering. So a question of this kind indicates the extraordinary inefficiency of the thinker and the questioner. But having put that question to me and through my answer, he should now find out for himself what the purpose of life is. You see about you confusion, misery and what is the outcome of it all? How can you go to another to find out? To find out the outcome of all this confusion, you should understand the one who is confused, the man who brought about this confusion, which is yourself. This chaos is the result of our own thought, own feeling, and to understand that confusion, that misery, you have to understand yourself and as you proceed deeper and deeper in understanding yourself you will find out what is the significance of life. Merely to stand at the edge of confusion and ask what is the significance of life has very little meaning. Sirs, it is like a man who has lost the song in his heart. Naturally he is always seeking for somebody who has a song, he is enchanted by the voice of others, he is always seeking a better singer because in his own heart there is no song. There can be song in his heart only when he discards everything and ceases to follow the teacher. There comes a time when you become aware of your desires, when you do not escape from them, but understand them. It requires earnestness, it requires extraordinary serious attention and he who is already in earnest has begun to understand and in him there is hope. There is hope not in performances, not in gurus, but only in yourself. December 7, 1947 MADRAS 9TH PUBLIC TALK 14TH DECEMBER, 1947 It is always difficult to communicate because the verbal expression and understanding are on different levels, are they not? We listen to words but the understanding comes only when we hear within ourselves what is being said. So, I think there is a difference between listening and hearing. Those of us who are accustomed to listening, really hardly ever understand because our understanding then is merely verbal, on the verbal level. But hearing I think is different. Hearing is more subjective, not as an opposite but in itself. Hearing is more what is taking place, you are hearing what is taking place in yourself rather than listening to some one outside. So, as I have been suggesting in all these talks and discussions, it would be a waste of time if you merely listen to words and do not hear in yourself their significance, it would be gathering from outside rather than hearing your own process of thinking and feeling. As I have said over and over again, communication can only exist, on the same level, at the same time. If you are merely listening to the words of someone else and not to their different significance and meaning, then the words become a barrier. And communion between you and me can exist only when there is pliability, a pliability of mind and heart which is love, which is affection. After all when two people love, not merely seek gratification in each other, but really love, there is communion, instantaneous, on the same level and at the same time. And that is the beauty of love when there is instantaneous comprehension in words. I feel that real understanding comes only when there is such communion between people, between you and myself, not in you listening to a talk or in my giving a talk, which as a matter of fact I am not, for I am just thinking aloud with you, and therefore I am not teaching you and you are not my pupil, but we both think aloud together so that we both might comprehend the extraordinary significance of living and suffering. So, I am not giving a discourse nor are you listening to one, but as we are trying together to find out what is true, it requires a different kind of understanding rather than merely listening to words. It demands a certain letting down of verbal barriers, a certain freedom from our usual, everyday prejudices, because we must go beyond. But, if we can, at least temporarily, put away our screen, our prejudices, our frame of references, our demands and feelings as though we were really enjoying, hearing things which we really love, which we want to inquire about and discover, then perhaps we will be able to go beyond the verbal level and therefore bring understanding into our daily life and action. If we do not do this I do not see the point of listening to any talk. If there is no integration between thinking, feeling and action, we cease to be really intelligent human beings. We merely live in compartments and compartmental living is really very destructive and distracting and that is what has happened in the world, and what is happening at the present time. We have developed the intellect so abnormally that we have lost all sense of proportion and sensitivity to existence. As I have been taking different subjects at different talks, I want to take this evening briefly and naturally, the problem of suffering. Happiness is not the denial of sorrow, but the understanding of sorrow. Most of us think that suffering will make us intelligent. At least we have been told that through suffering you will awaken understanding and intelligence, that through suffering you store up knowledge, through suffering you acquire comprehension. Whereas, if you examine a little more closely you will find that suffering like pain and conflict really dulls what is and to regard suffering as a means to understanding or intelligence is really fallacious. That is what we have been accustomed to think. Does suffering bring understanding? To find out what actually takes place we must examine, must we not, what happens to us when we suffer? What do we mean by suffering? A sense of disturbance, is it not? An inward, psychological disturbance. I am not for the moment dealing with the outward suffering, diseases and so on, but inward suffering, psychological suffering as when you lose somebody, when you feel frustrated, when your existence has no meaning, when the future becomes all important, or when you regard with yearning the past as more beautiful, more happy than the present, and so on. That implies a contradiction, a dissatisfaction with the present, pain and responsibility, the sense of emptiness, the utter emptiness of relationship which has no meaning except the merely physical, the sense of void that can never be filled. So, to understand suffering we must not take anything for granted, it seems to me, but really examine what is actually taking place in us when we suffer, what is our natural and instinctive response. Generally is it not to run away from it? To escape through explanations, through beliefs, through theories, through the priest, through the image; we know the various systems of escapes, the radio, the newspaper, the movie, drugs, gurus. We try anything to get away from the constant ache, pain and suffering. Even the very inquiry into the cause of suffering, is that not also an escape? If we examine it with a little care, we know very well what is the cause of suffering. We need not spend hours, days, we need not go to a guru to find out what is the cause of suffering. We know it. I do not think we need to be told what the cause of suffering is; it is obvious, is it not? But what happens when we inquire into the reason for suffering? We are really escaping intellectually into the cause or into the search for the cause. So, what generally happens is that we become very skilful, very clever in our escapes, but suffering continues and this becoming intelligent in escapes is called intelligent living. That is, you progress - it is called progress through the change of objects of escape, but suffering, in some way or other, continues. So, how is suffering to be understood? Merely to inquire into the cause is stupid, for obviously we know what it is; our everyday stupid existence, our prejudices, our greeds, our pettiness, our desire to continue. So, it is merely information and it is of no significance when we begin to understand what suffering is. You do not have to run away from it. The more you are familiar with it, the more you are acquainted with it, the more you love it, the more you invite it, talk with it, sleep with it, the more it gives off its perfume, its significance. But the moment you run away from it, whether through your intellect or through superstition, science or romance, suffering continues. So, suffering is really to be understood and not overcome, because any form of overcoming can be conquered again; suffering can only be understood through self-knowledge, which is right thinking. And right thinking is not possible when you condemn suffering or become identified, push away, that with which you identify, you accept, but to understand suffering you have to live with it, take it as it is. You do not deny beauty, but you accept it. Similarly if we deny suffering we also deny beauty, happiness; because happiness is not the opposite of suffering and beauty is not the denial of the ugly. When you deny the one you deny the other. Only right thinking which comes through awareness of every day feeling and action, can dissolve the cause that brings about pain and suffering. Question: I heard your last Sunday talk about duality and the pain of it, but as you did not explain how to overcome the opposite, will you please go further into it? Krishnamurti: Let us go into it very delicately. Let us find out its enormous significance. We know the conflict of the opposites. We are caught in that long corridor of pain, always overcoming the one and trying to become the other. That is our existence. I am this and I want to become that; I am not this and I would like to be that; that is the constant struggle of everyone; of the bank-clerk, the manager, the seeker after truth. Our everyday struggle in life is based on a constant battle of becoming, of transforming this into that. So, I needn't go into more details concerning the conflict and the pain of the opposites. Now, does the opposite exist? We know that what exists is only the actual. But the opposite is only the negative response to what is, is it not? It has no existence apart from `what is.' That is : I am arrogant and that is a fact and the negative response to that is humility and I accept humility as an opposite because I have been told that arrogance is wrong; or I have found it to be painful; or religiously, morally, and ethically it is taboo. So, I want to get rid of arrogance, it no longer pays me to be arrogant. So, I would like to become humble, the opposite. What actually happens is that I am arrogant and I would like to become humble. Humility is an idea, not an actuality. The actual is the arrogance, the other is not, but I would like to become that other. Therefore the desire to become what I am not creates the opposite but the opposite is nonexistent, it is only an ideal which I would like to realize. So, it seems to me an utter waste of time to meditate or try in some other way to become the opposite. Love is not the opposite of hate. If it is, it would not be love, because after all, an opposite has within it the seed of its own opposite; as humility is the outcome of arrogance, therefore it has the seed of arrogance. Whereas if we understood the whole significance of arrogance, then its opposite also would cease. What exists is arrogance and if I can understand that, I need not go into the battle of becoming something. To put it differently, the present is the result of the past and whatever the present is, it must create the future which is its opposite, yet still caught in the net of time. So, if I can understand the whole significance of the present, I see the present as the passage of the past into the future. As long as thought is caught in the conflict of the opposites, it cannot understand what is. If I want to understand what is, I must give my whole attention, my whole being to it and not be distracted by the opposites. The opposite is merely the ideal, that which is not, that which I would like to become. Therefore it is non-existent, it is merely the negative wish of what is. So, that is one point. The second is: why do we name a feeling? Why do we name a reaction as anger, as jealousy, as envy, as hate, and so on? Why do we term it? Do you term it in order to understand it or do you term it as a means of recognizing it? Is the feeling independent of the term? Or do you understand the feeling through the term? If you understand the feeling through the term, through the word, through the name, then the name becomes important and not the feeling and would it be possible not to name the feeling at all? Would it be possible not to term it but when you do term it, what happens? You bring a framework of references to a living feeling and thereby absorb the living feeling into time, which only strengthens memory, which is the I. And what happens, if you do not name a feeling, give it a term? If you do not give that feeling, that reaction, that response a name, a term, what would happen to that feeling? Does it not come to an end? You try it and you will see what happens. You have a feeling arising or a reaction, a response to a challenge and instinctively you name it, you term it, and then what do you do? The living response is put into a frame of past references which only strengthens your memory and therefore gives continuity to the I. But if you do not give it a name, what would happen? If you experiment you will see the reaction. The feeling soon withers away. Experiment with it and try it out for yourself. So, any response to a challenge comes to an end when you do not name it and put it in the frame of references. Now we have only learned that a painful reaction can be got rid of that way: don't name it, it will vanish. But, will you do the same thing with pleasurable feelings? That is, if you have a pleasure and if you do not name it, it will also wither away, will it not? It will, if you have experimented with what I have been talking about and discussing in the mornings. So, pleasurable reactions and painful reactions wither away when you do not term them, when they are not absorbed into the framework of references. You will see if you experiment with it that it is a fact. But, is love also a response, a reaction not to be named and so left to wither? It will wither if it is an opposite of hate, because then it is merely a response to a challenge; but surely it is not a response to a challenge. It is a state of being. It is its own eternity but with most of us it has an opposite. I am brutal and I must cultivate kindliness, I must become merciful, I must become generous. The becoming creates the opposite either positively or negatively. But you cannot try to cultivate love, surely. If you try to cultivate mercy, it being an opposite ceases to be mercy, also mercy contains its own opposite, hate. Love can be known surely only when the sense of becoming which creates the opposite ceases. So, the problem of duality, which your sacred books have said you must transcend, which all your life you have struggled to transcend but in which you are still caught, seems to me, fallacious. But in the understanding of what the opposite is, duality ceases to exist. Opposite exists only when you try to avoid what is, in order to become something which is not; but in understanding what is, which for instance is arrogance with all its implications, not only at a particular level but through all the layers of one's consciousness -not only the petty official arrogance of a bureaucracy, but the whole arrogance of achievement - in understanding arrogance not as an opposite, because as I have explained, arrogance when it becomes humility, is still arrogance; in understanding arrogance in all its significance and without naming the feeling, you will see it wither away. And as love is not the opposite of hate, you cannot approach it through the process of cultivation or becoming. That process of becoming must entirely cease before love can be. Question: Gandhiji says in a recent article that religion and nationalism are both equally dear to man and one cannot be bartered away in favour of the other. What do you say? Krishnamurti: I wonder what you will say. I wonder what is your response to this. Will you question your so-called leaders? Must you not criticize, question, inquire to find out the truth and not merely accept? Will you dare to criticize? Because if you dared you would lose your job, would you not? In this question is implied the acceptance of authority; some one tells and you accept. In acceptance there is blindness and total lack of thought. It does not matter who it is that speaks. If you have lost the critical ability to inquire, to find out, you will never discover what truth is. And that is the tragedy of leaders, political or religious, because you create them, and thus there is mutual exploitation. And in India, as elsewhere, it is extraordinary to watch the growth of leaders, of tyrants, in the name of religion or in the name of politics; and the more power they have the more evil they become. One of the points we have to bear in mind is, not to accept but to inquire, to find out what truth is; and to find out what truth is you must have an open heart and open mind and not be guided by any teacher or any politician. But you see, that means you have to think for yourself. You have to venture out into the open, uncharted seas; but we would rather be told what to think. I am not criticizing any individual, I am not talking about any specific leader, but about the whole idea of authority. Surely, Sirs, you cannot create in the bonds of authority. Where there is authority, creation ceases. You may invent mechanical things but creation as reality, ceases, and I think that is one of the curses of this country and other countries. When you have given yourself to somebody, whether it is your priest or a political leader or the man who says he is the Messiah or a messenger of God, you cease to feel, to think and as human beings you are non-existent. Surely that is no solution to our problems, to our catastrophes, to our miseries. Now, it is said that religion and nationalism are both dear to man and we cannot barter away one in favour of the other. Now, let us find out the truth of this, not by opposing or defending, but really find out the truth of this matter because it is truth that is going to liberate us, give us happiness, not the assertion of any one. What do you mean by religion? Surely, it is not going to church or going to the temple and worshipping images, reading the sacred books, or belonging to any religious sect or body. Surely that is not religion. Is it? And religion is not belief. Religion implies, does it not, the search for God, for Truth, or whatever name you give it. Therefore if that is so, then organized religions are an impediment because they constrict thought and feeling by their beliefs, by their images made either by the hand or the mind, by their ruthless ceremonies and all the rest of it. So, religion is the search after Reality and not the performance of ceremonies, the reading of sacred books and so on. So, that means that religion as an organized form of belief, ceases to be religion. In the inquiry after Truth, the approach must be negative and not positive because positive action always leads to a positive end which can only be that which you know. And Reality is the unknowable and you cannot imagine it or put it into words. It is the unknown. Therefore any positive approach to the unknown will make the unknown knowable and therefore that is not the Truth. Truth is when the known ceases to be. The Eternal is approached not through time. The Eternal is when time ceases, that is when thought which is the result of time comes to an end. So, religion is not the positive; it is not dogmatic, assertive or convertive; it is not the worship of images. And what is nationalism? The feeling, is it not, of belonging to a group of people or to a country? When you call yourself a Hindu, a Mussalman or a Christian, what do you do? Does it not give you a sense of well-being, to feel that you are united with something you consider greater than yourself. When I say I am an Indian there is a sense of belonging to a whole group of people, to an ancient land with all the vanity implied in it. Is it not so? I belong to my family and it also gives me a sense of continuity; property, ownership gives me a sense of continuity. The idea gives me a sense of continuity. Therefore through nationalism I continue, the `mine' continues, therefore I identify myself with what is considered the larger, the whole, the country called India. In myself I am empty, shallow, poor, I am nothing; but if I identify myself with something called India, an idea, then I am well placed, I have happiness and through that idea I can be exploited, I can butcher other countries with immunity. That is what has been happening in the world; the Germans fighting the French, Hindus fighting the Muslims and so on, all in the name of nationalism, in the name of country, in the name of God, in the name of Peace. Because I like to be identified with something which I call India, which is really myself enlarged, and when you attack that I am ready to kill you because without it I am not. Therefore I invest in nationalism all my feelings, it takes the place of religion, and that is what is happening now; Gods are disappearing and the States are taking their places. Both are ideas and therefore you have nothing to lose; that you barter one for the other is of very little importance, because you are really, fundamentally seeking continuance through a concept, and whether it is India or God or Germany or something else does not matter as long as you, as an entity, can continue in some form. So, nationalism like organized religion has brought division between man and man. Through nationalism you can never find brotherhood. If you are a nationalist and try to become brotherly you are living in deceit because you cannot be identified with one and deny the rest. The moment you identify yourself either with a belief or with a country you are the creator of wars. You may speak of brotherhood but you live in a state of suppression, therefore you are causing wars. I do not see much difference between nationalism and organized religion. Both have brought misery to man, both have created division, both have spread destruction, conflict; because through beliefs and through patriotism they separate man from man. Surely, you must go beyond these petty images created by the mind or by the hand, to find Truth, must you not? You must cease to be nationalistic however thrilling it may be, however stimulating and you must cease to belong to any particular religion in order to find Reality, must you not? As both nationalism and organized religion are inventions of the mind, of time, to understand the timeless, you must be free of time. This is extremely difficult in the modern world as the modern world is geared for war, total war, total destruction which nationalism or organized religion render inevitable; therefore a man who desires to find Truth must leave these two behind, for Truth is to be found not in an image made by the hand or by the mind, but when thought ceases; the ending of thought is the ending of time. Truth can only be understood through self - knowledge, and not by following the assertion of any leader. Question: You have talked of exploitation as being evil. Do you not also exploit? Krishnamurti: I am glad that you have still the capacity to criticize. It is through that we will find Truth and not by hiding behind the defence of words. Yet, most of us have erected walls of words which it is very difficult to penetrate. I am quite willing to expose myself, and I will, and you can have a great deal of fun. What do you mean by exploitation? Have you thought about it, I wonder, or merely read about it in books and so are able to repeat to me or to yourself assertions of the left or of the right. What does exploitation mean? Does it not mean using another for your own profit either socially or psychologically? Society, as it is established at present, makes it inevitable, unfortunately, to use others; the shirt which I put on and the kurtha I am wearing are the result of exploitation and how can anyone, in a society which is constructed in this manner, cease to exploit? You understand what I mean by exploitation; using another for your own personal benefit, personal gain, personal achievement. All that I can do is to say to myself that I will have a minimum, and I have decided what my minimum shall be. It is of very little importance to me whether I have much or little. To have much is a bothersome thing, as people who have much will tell you. The limiting of the needs can only come about when the needs are not used for psychological purposes, that is, when I do not use the essentials of life as a means to psychological contentment, or psychological gratification. The use of property as a means of self-aggrandizement, I call exploitation. But exploitation ceases when I use the essentials as essentials and no more; I hope you understand that point. Exploitation begins when needs become greed, when needs become psychological necessities. The needs which are food, clothing and shelter have very little significance in themselves except to feed one, to clothe one and shelter one. Surely exploitation ceases when the needs do not go over into the psychological field because, after all, when you examine the needs they are food, clothing and shelter and a happy man is not bothered by these, because he has other riches, he has other treasures. The man who has no other treasures, makes the sensate values predominant and this creates such havoc in the world. So, if I may be personal, as I do not use the essentials of life for psychological aggrandizement I am really not exploiting anyone. You may call me an exploiter, but in my heart I know I am not. The problem of psychological exploitation is much more difficult. Psychologically, we depend on things, on beliefs or on ideas. That is, psychologically, things, relationship and ideas become important as long as things, relationship and ideas fill our psychological emptiness; that is, being inwardly poor, insufficient, fearful, uncertain, we seek security in things, or in relationship, or in ideas. That search for security in things, in beliefs, in ideas is the beginning of real exploitation. We know the result of seeking psychological security in things; it leads to war, to destruction, to such social chaos and degradation as exist in India and elsewhere at the present time. Things have become extraordinarily important to you, because they fill your psychological emptiness. You are the things, take away the things, where are you? So, you must have a bank account, it is your bank account, you are the owner. And in relationship too, what happens? Being psychologically empty you depend on your husband, on your wife, on your friends. So, dependence becomes very important, therefore there is jealousy, fear, possessiveness and all the bother of trying to overcome possessiveness. Similarly when you are inwardly empty, ideas and beliefs become extraordinarily important, the leader, the messenger, the saviour become important. So, exploitation begins fundamentally, deeply, profoundly, only when you, the individual, the society, have that painful, psychological emptiness of which we are aware sometimes, but which generally is very carefully concealed. Such exploitation, psychological exploitation is far worse, because then the name matters, because then things matter, ideas matter, the thought as knowledge matters. Surely through knowledge you cannot find the Real. Only when knowledge ceases the Real is, for knowledge is merely the product of thought and thought is the result of time and that which is the product of time can never find the timeless. So, things, names and ideas become extraordinarily significant when through them you are expanding. And that expansive process is the beginning of real exploitation. You cease to exploit when you recognize the significance of property for what it is, for what it gives you, which is very little. When you see the significance of relationship for what it is and not for the gratification it gives you, and when you see the idea not as self-protection, as security, but as merely an idea, then they have their own significance and very little else because, after all, if in relationship, you seek self-expansion through gratification, relationship ceases, relationship becomes very painful. Relationship is a process of self-revelation, a means of discovering your own way of thinking, of feeling. If you use property as a means of self-expansion, then it leads to chaos, to an utterly sensate existence which is what the world leads at the present time. Trying to solve the problem of existence on its own level brings destruction and the same is true of ideation. When you use knowledge, idea, to gain psychological gratification you set man against man which again produces hatred, envy and misery. So, really exploitation takes place when there is self-expansion whether it is in the name of God or in the name of anything else. Exploitation is not swept away through legislation. You may establish a physically non-exploited world, but it will lead to exploitation on another level where the boss will still be all important. So, exploitation can be understood and really brought to an end only when you understand your own way of thinking, feeling and acting, that is, through self-knowledge you begin to perceive the utter emptiness of your own existence, which is a fact that has been covered over by ideation, by relationship, by things. When you realize that emptiness and do not try to escape from it through any means, then that which is, is transformed. Question: What is the difference between surrendering to the will of God and what you are saying about the acceptance of what is? Krishnamurti: Surely there is a vast difference, is there not? Surrendering to the will of God implies that you already know the will of God. You are not surrendering to something you do not know. If you know Reality, you cannot surrender to it. You cease to exist. There is no surrendering to a higher will. If you are surrendering to a higher will then that higher will is the projection of yourself, for the Real cannot be known through the known. It comes into being only when the known ceases to be. The known is a creation of the mind because thought is the result of the known, of the past and thought can only create what it knows and therefore what it knows is not the eternal. That is why when you surrender to the will of God you are surrendering to your own projection; it may be gratifying, comforting, but it is not the Real. To understand what is, demands a different process, perhaps the word process is not right but what I mean is this: to understand what is, is much more difficult, it requires greater intelligence, greater awareness, than merely to accept or give yourself over to an idea. To understand what is does not demand effort and as I pointed out in my earlier talks, effort is a distraction. To understand something, to understand what is, you cannot be distracted, can you? If I want to understand what you are saying, I cannot listen to music, to the noise of people outside, I must give my whole attention to it. So, it is extraordinarily difficult and arduous to be aware of what is, because our very thinking has become a distraction. We do not want to understand what is. We look at what is, through the spectacles of prejudices, of condemnation or of identification, and it is very arduous to remove these spectacles and to look at what is. Surely, what is, is a fact, is the Truth and all else is an escape, is not the Truth, as we said earlier this evening. To understand what is, the conflict of duality must cease, because the negative response of becoming something other than what is, is the denial of the understanding of what is. If I want to understand arrogance, I must not go into the opposite, I must not be distracted by the effort of becoming, or even by the effort of trying to understand what is. If I am arrogant, what happens? If I do not name arrogance, it ceases, which means that in the problem itself is the answer and not away from it. So, it is not a question of accepting what is, you do not accept what is, you do not accept that you are brown, because it is a fact; only when you are trying to become something else you have to accept. The moment you recognize a fact, it ceases to have any significance; but a mind that is trained to think of the past or of the future, trained to run away in multifarious directions, such a mind is incapable of understanding what is. But without understanding what is, surely you cannot find what is Real and without that understanding, life has no significance, life is a constant battle wherein pain and suffering continue. The Real can only be understood by thinking, by understanding what is. It cannot be understood if there is any condemnation or identification; the mind that is always condemning or identifying cannot understand. It can only understand that within which it is caught. The understanding of what is, being aware of what is, reveals extraordinary depths is which is Reality, happiness and joy. December 14, 1947 MADRAS 10TH PUBLIC TALK 21ST DECEMBER, 1947 There are so many problems, and especially at this time when there is so much confusion, when each one, each society, each group of people or nation, is seeking security at the expense of others, it seems to me very important to find out how to think rightly as a problem arises, how to confront the problem rightly; what is important is not what we should think about the problem, nor what our attitude should be towards the problem, but how to think about it. We are accustomed to being told what to think, in what manner to approach a problem but we do not know what thinking is. So, it seems to me very important to find out what is right thinking because the various problems that arise, the problems which confront us constantly, demand right thinking. There is a right solution for each problem but it requires right thinking and not the mere desire to solve the problem. The point is not what to think, but how to think rightly. I would like to discuss this with you if I may, this evening, for there can be right action only if there is right thinking. If we do not know how to think we do not know how to act. So, what is thinking? I wonder if you have ever asked yourself that question. What is thinking? As I have often said, you don't have to wait for an answer from me but let us think over the problem together because I do not consider this to be a lecture or a talk or a discourse in which you are merely listeners; you are participants in this discussion; let us therefore think together about each problem. So, don't merely wait to hear an answer from me. What is thinking, what is the process of thinking? As we know it, it is a response to memory, is it not? You have certain memories and they leave certain marks and to this residue you respond. Memory thus is accumulation of the residue of experience. So, thinking, which is the response to memory, is always conditioned and as we know, that is the actual fact, our daily existence. That is, you have an experience and you translate that experience according to previous memories and so the experience, which has been translated, is gathered as memory and according to that memory you respond and this is called thinking. Surely such thinking only strengthens conditioning, which only produces more conflict, more pain and more sorrow. That is, memory is constantly responding to the residue of experience which we call memory. It is responding to a challenge and this challenge and response to memory we call thinking, because life is a series of challenges and responses and the response is always conditioned by memory and that response to memory we call thinking. But the challenge is always new, it is never the old and our thinking is always old because it is the response of the past. So, believing is not thinking, believing is only conditioned thinking and conditioned experience - I am using the ordinary word conditioning and not the technical one. If you believe in something, you experience it and your experience is conditioned because it is based on a belief which is also conditioned. So belief is not thinking at all, it is only a response to a memory. So, that is what we are doing in our daily life if we examine ourselves. You have the experience which leaves a residue which is memory and according to that memory you think, and that response which we call thinking is always conditioned because belief is always conditioned memory. So, our thinking, which is the response to a challenge which is ever new, is always conditioned and therefore produces further conflict, further suffering and further pain. This is a fact, this is our daily existence. When we say we are thinking, that is what we mean. But, is that thinking? What then is thinking? When we use the word thinking in our daily life it is thinking based on memory, thinking which is a response and a reaction to memory and that response to memory comes from a challenge. You see a picture, you criticize it according to the background you have. You listen to music and you interpret it according to the traditions and according to the frame of reference you have. If you have had western training in music you will not respond to Indian music. So, this is what we call thinking, a series of responses to memory and therefore thinking is always conditioned and that is a fact. Now, I ask myself, and I hope you are doing it too, is that thinking? These responses to memory, is that thinking? So, thinking, as we know it, is it really thinking or merely responding to memory and therefore not thinking? What then is thinking? Don't tell me it is response to memory, but what is thinking? Have you ever thought about it? Have you ever sat down and said to yourself what is thinking, what do you mean by thinking? You say ordinarily it is a response to memory. But is that thinking? Surely that is not thinking. So what is thinking? Now, as it is a new problem, when you are asked a question what is thinking what do you do? It is a new question, a new problem presented to you and how do you respond to it? When you are asked what is thinking, what is your response? You have never thought about it. So, what happens? You are silent, aren't you? Please follow this very carefully. There is a new problem presented to you: what is thinking; and as you have never thought about it and since it is new there is naturally a hesitancy, a sense of quietness and a stillness of observation. Is there not? You are watching, you are not translating, you are very alert and your mind is extremely concentrated if the question is vital and interesting, which it is. If you observe yourself when this question is asked you, you will see that your mind is not asleep, but very alert and very conscious, yet passive. It is waiting to find an answer. Now, that alert yet passive state is surely thinking because that is not conditioned thinking. There is passive, alert awareness, isn't there? Because your mind is very quiet and because it is confronted with a new problem, it is not asleep, but very alert and aware yet passive; it is not active because it does not know the answer, it is not even seeking an answer because it does not know. So that state of awareness, passive awareness is really thinking, is it not? It is the highest form of thinking because there is no positive comprehension, there is no conditioned response, it is a state of negation. Would it not be possible to meet every problem in this way, anew, because then the problem gives its significance; then you meet a problem, as sorrow, for instance and it will give its significance and therefore the problem ceases. But when you try to solve the problem by what you call thinking which is only response to memory, then because memory is conditioned, you further complicate the problem. You can experiment with this for yourself very simply and you will see how remarkably it works. For instance, you are in front of a modern painting. Your instinctive response is that you don't understand it and you push it aside, or else you ask who painted it, and if it is some big name you say it is very good; or again according to your training, you translate the picture. You respond according to your background or your conditioning. But suppose you put aside, if you can, the training, the classical training you have had and remain very quiet, very passive but alert in front of the picture. Does not the picture then tell you, give you its significance? So, passive awareness is surely the highest form of thinking because you are so receptive, so alert that the picture conveys its meaning to you. So, similarly if we could meet each problem with this alert, passive awareness which you experience now, when I ask you what is thinking, you are puzzled, you are bewildered and if you can go beyond that bewilderment, that puzzle, you say, `I do not know.' That unknowingness is not a sleepy condition; on the contrary it is a very alert passive state of the mind in which there is deep silence waiting for the right significance. But, what we call thinking is generally understood as a response of memory and when you meet a problem with the response of memory the problem is not understood and therefore there's still more confusion. But, if you are able to meet each problem, with this passive awareness, which is choiceless, then the problem yields its significance and therefore the problem is transcended. Question: I dream a great deal. Have dreams any significance? Krishnamurti: This is really an extremely important and very difficult problem because many things are implied. First of all, are we awake or partly awake, or are we asleep most of the time? When are you awake? When there is a tremendous crisis, when there is interest, when there is a problem. But when there is a problem our desire is to escape from it through different ways and thereby we put ourselves to sleep. When there is a crisis what do you do? You try to solve the crisis according to the framework of references, according to religious literature or according to a guru and that again puts you to sleep. So when there is a challenge of life, if it is pleasurable you pursue it, which is also a way of putting oneself to sleep, because the more pleasure you have the more dull you become. When the challenge of life is painful what happens? You avoid it, which again dulls the mind; you avoid it through various channels. So, constantly, when there is a challenge which demands earnest attention, clear perception, a challenge which may entail pain or pleasure, either we refuse it or identify ourselves with it to such an extent that we put ourselves to sleep. That is the ordinary process and it is only at very, very rare moments that we are awake. It is in those moments that there is no dream. In those moments when you are fully awake there is neither experience nor accumulation of experience. You are just awake and therefore the dreamer is not dreaming. Now, what is the significance of dreams? Surely, it is this, is it not? The conscious mind, during the day, is actively engaged in either earning money, doing routine work, learning, or is occupied with some technical job. So, the conscious mind during the day, is actively busy with superficial things such as going to the temple, going to the office, having a quarrel with the wife or husband, thinking, reading, avoiding, enjoying; it is constantly active. When the mind goes to sleep what happens? The superficial mind is fairly quiet. But consciousness is not just the superficial layer. Consciousness has many, many layers, you don't have to be told what they are: hidden motives, pursuits, anxieties, fears, frustrations and so on. And these layers of consciousness can and do project themselves into the conscious mind and when it wakes up it says: `I have had a dream.' In others words, the conscious mind is so occupied with daily activities, daily anxieties, daily fears that it is incapable of receiving intimations and hints during the day. Each of the many layers has its own consciousness and when the superficial mind becomes quiet the layers project themselves on the superficial mind and then you dream. There are of course superficial dreams and dreams which have real significance. The superficial dreams are the dreams created by the bodily response; indigestion, overeating etc. So, we need not consider those. Other dreams are the intimations of the deeper layers of consciousness. Now, when you dream, what happens? It often happens that as you dream interpretation is taking place. I do not know if you have noticed it. That is, dreams are really, are they not, symbols, images, pictures which the conscious mind translates and says `I have dreamt this or that.' Sym- bols and hidden motives which when projected into the conscious are translated into symbols which convey a significance to you when you wake up. And when you dream, when you say on waking `I have had a dream,' immediately you want to interpret it. If you are at all aware you want to know what it means. Now there is the luxury of going to a psychoanalyst, the dream expert and he will translate your dream for you after a very difficult process taking many months and costing a great deal of money. But most of us have not the money, fortunately, and we are not near any psychoanalyst. Psychoanalysts are the new priests in the modern world. They have also their own jargon and they exploit you and you exploit them. But, surely there is a different way of understanding. When you yourself interpret the dream, who is the interpreter? You have had a dream during the night, it has some significance, it is not just a superficial dream, it is a dream which has some worth, some meaning. Now, you want to understand it, which means you want to translate it, you want to go into it. Now, how do you understand a dream? You try to pursue it and find out its significance and what happens? You try to interpret it. You are interpreting it and therefore you, being the conditioned, active superficial mind, are not able to pursue it, understand it. You can only translate it, interpret it according to your like and dislike. But the dream gives you very little of its significance, its meaning. If you pursue your dream you will see what I mean, because you, the interpreter, are very anxious to find out what it means; therefore you are agitated; therefore you cannot understand it. But if the interpreter is fully alert yet passive, then the dream reveals its significance. That is the only way of dealing with dreams. The conscious mind wants to understand the significance of the dream which is the intimation of the many layers of consciousness; so if the dreamer is passively alert, quiet, then the dream begins to yield its significance. But if you pursue it and say, `I must understand it', the conscious mind becomes agitated and translates the dream according to its conditioning. Therefore it can never understand it. So, how the dreamer, the interpreter, regards the dream is of the highest importance. Then there is another problem. The other problem is, as the interpreter, the dreamer is constantly unaware, how can it be possible to free thought from all dreams, so that there will be no interpreter. That is, why should the mind, the conscious mind, always be dreaming? Why should you have to go through these dreams and all the bother of interpretation, and the anxiety on the part of the interpreter? Is there any way of not dreaming at all? Because the moment the interpreter, the dreamer, intervenes in the understanding of the significance of the dream, he is bound to misinterpret it. He can only translate according to his own conditioning which is always pleasurable and therefore he avoids anything that is painful. Is there not a way of transcending all dreams, because dreams, as I said, are intimations given by the many, many layers of consciousness to the superficial layer, of what they want, what they desire, what their intentions are. So, the problem is then, how to transcend, how to understand fully, deeply, all the intimations of the various layers of consciousness so that you don't have to wait for the night to have a dream and then translate it and all the rest of it. Is it possible to understand the whole content of consciousness, to free it so that it need not project itself upon the superficial mind when asleep? Is it possible to empty the whole of consciousness so that the conscious mind understands fully? The superficial then is the profound. There are many layers of consciousness and when one of these layers projects upon the conscious, superficial layer, its intimations, which the conscious mind calls dreams, then the conscious mind tries to interpret them and suffers all the anxiety of interpretation. I do not know if you have gone through that. Now, my question is: is it possible for the conscious mind to be so alert, so passively aware during the day that all the intimations are translated as they arise? In other words, can you be so consciously, so choicelessly aware - the moment you choose, you become the interpreter - can you be so passively aware that all the layers of consciousness are giving you their intimations all the time, so that all of consciousness is one whole without layers? This is possible only when the conscious mind is not battling with problems, when the conscious mind is not made still, but is still. If you will experiment you will see how extraordinarily interesting this is. When the conscious mind is quiet it may be doing superficial things but its quietness is not disturbed by the superficial activities. Then you will see that the more you are aware, the more you are passively observant, negatively watchful, choicelessly alert, the more the contents of the unconscious, of the many layers, comes to the surface. You don't have to interpret them because the moment they arise they are being understood. If you experiment, you will feel an extraordinary freedom because your whole being, your consciousness, which now is broken up, becomes integrated. There is no longer any struggle in your consciousness, it is therefore love, it is completely whole, unbroken. Surely, that is freedom, and all those deep hidden layers of consciousness are out, open, free and therefore there is no necessity for dreams. When therefore there are no dreams, consciousness can penetrate deeper and deeper into itself, for dreams are an indication of disturbance. But when there is no disturbance and the body is very quiet during sleep, when the mind is still, when the conscious mind is comparatively still, you will find upon waking, you had not dreamt, but that a renewal has taken place, a renewal which is constantly going on because there is always an ending. The farmer, the toiler, tills the field in the spring time. Then he sows, then he harvests and allows the field to lie fallow during the winter months. That fallowness of the soil is regeneration because it is exposed to the sun, the snow, the storm. It renews itself. So, similarly when the conscious mind has struggled, sown, harvested, it must lie fallow. Such fallowness is its own creativeness. It renews itself and this can be done every day, not only at the end of the season. Now, when you have a problem you struggle with it and you don't end it, you carry it over to the next day. But if you end it then, that is, if you live the four seasons in one day, then when you wake up you find there has been a renewal, a freshness, a newness which you have never felt before. It is not the renewal of desire, the renewal of your problems, of property, marriage and all that kind of thing, but the renewal to face things anew. So, dreams have an extraordinary significance. But their significance is not understood if there is the interpreter and as there is the interpreter he is always translating the dream according to his conditioning. So, is it possible to remove the interpreter? It is possible only when the conscious mind is active, yet passive, when it is passively aware. Then, in that new awareness, in that passive, choiceless state, the whole content of the many layers of consciousness is understood, because that consciousness is no longer broken up but is whole and integrated; it is free; and it can renew itself constantly and face anew everything that confronts it. Question: We see the significance of what you say, but there are many important problems which demand immediate attention, such as the struggle between capital and labour. Krishnamurti: We all know that there are immediate problems which need immediate solutions and answers. That is obvious, especially in a society which is chaotic, confused, which is the result of industrialization and so on. Those problems demand immediate attention; capital, labour, transportation and all the rest of it. Now what is it that we are saying that is so impracticable, that cannot deal with the immediate problems? That is the implication in this question. That is, the questioner says `yes', I agree with what you say but how am I to solve the `immediate problems'. The implication is that he has not found in what we have been saying any application to the immediate problems. He does not know how to deal with the problems which demand immediate attention. Now, either we deal with the problems from the point of view of reform or from the point of view of right thinking. If I am dealing with problems merely from the point of view of reforming, those reforms need further reforming, but if I am dealing with problems from the point of view of right thinking, then I shall be able to deal with them directly. So, we are not concerned with reforms, are we? It is very important to decide this for yourself because you want reform, there is an urgency to remedy the lack of food, to abolish child-marriage, to permit widow remarriage; you know all the immediate problems. Are you dealing with them with the mentality of the reformer, whose attitude is entirely different from that of the man who wants to deal with the entire problem of human existence? To be concerned merely with reform, is one way of dealing with problems. Then you are not concerned with the purpose of man, you are merely concerned with the immediate problem of man, and that is all you care about. That is the attitude of the politician. So, such an attitude only leads to confusion, more confusion, more struggle, more misery which is evident in society at the present time. Or, are you looking at problems like starvation, nationalism, economic frontiers, and at our daily existence which creates innumerable problems, from the point of view of a man who is seeking for the whole meaning of existence? These two points of view are diametrically opposed. So, from which point of view did you put this question? Please don't answer, there are too many people. If you are dealing from the point of view of the reformer then there is no answer because you have to reform, you have to compromise with the left and with the right, and with corruption, which means that you are also partly corrupted and so on and so on. It is like a man who says: If I do not have an army my country will be overrun by the enemy; but I also believe in pacifism, I believe in brotherhood. He is really a reformer. He has compromised because he says, if I don't have an army somebody will come and conquer me'. So, he creates an army, he participates in war because the very existence of an army is an indication of preparation for war and all the problems connected with the results of war and so on. Now, similarly when you deal with the problem of labour and capital what is involved in it? The capitalist is a thoroughgoing exploiter. He will pay the least to get the most, which we all know, but if the labourer can get to the top, he will do exactly the same, for everything is controlled by the State and you are directed to work whether you like it or not. So, the struggle between capital and labour is a problem of power. The capitalist seeks his own security, his own safety, you know the whole business of his exploitation, and the labourer has to organize to protect himself from the ruthlessness of the man above. Therefore there are strikes, unions and so on. So, are you approaching life from the point of view of the reformer, that is doing patch work, or are you approaching it from a revolutionary point of view, which means that you have an idea you want to carry through? Then you are not concerned with human struggle, human existence, but only with the system and therefore you believe the system will benefit man. So, you are more interested in the system than in man. Or, are you approaching the whole problem of human existence, and not merely the struggle between capital and labour, which is the struggle between man and man, between wife and husband, between neighbour and neighbour, between group and group, between one organization and another organization? Are you approaching the problem in order to understand the true meaning of conflict, pain and suffering in man? If your approach is comprehensive, integrated, whole, then you will have an answer which is real. But if you are merely approaching the problem from the point of view of a theoretical revolutionary with a system and according to a pattern, then surely you will not solve the human ailment, nor will the reformer, the socially active person who wants to alter things to fit them into his pattern, into his framework. His reforms will have to be reformed because the reformer is not tackling the fundamental issues of the mind. The immediate can only be understood, if we understand the timeless. The man who is concerned with the immediate can never understand the profound, for man is not merely the immediate. If he is seeking an answer to his problems in terms of time - the question implies that the problem must be settled the day after tomorrow - then such a man is not concerned with the real issues and problems, the psychological issues and problems of man; he will say: I am not concerned with your psychological problems. All I want is to feed the millions and therefore I am going to pursue ruthlessly the feeding of the millions even if I should fail to feed any. Surely there is a different approach to this problem, - the problem of necessities which are food, clothing and shelter and other psychological factors, - one which does not relate it to any particular group or system. Taking man as a whole is what very few people want to do, because they are all concerned with the immediate: immediate desires, immediate fulfillments, immediate passions. So, most of us are really concerned with the immediate. Most of us are politicians and not real seekers wishing to find out the truth of existence. Most of us want to compromise, most of us want easy settlements. But those people are not going to be the saviours of man. The man who will save humanity is he who profoundly understands himself in relation to society, in relation to his wife, to the nation, to the group and who by transforming himself in relationship brings a new understanding which helps to clarify the significance of society and its struggles. Question: Are we not shaped by circumstances? Are we not really the creatures of our senses? Krishnamurti: Again this is an enormous problem because the implications are enormous in a question of this kind. One implication is that matter is in movement within itself and therefore control of circumstances is essential, is all important. The other conception is that idea moves upon matter and therefore shapes matter. It is the religious conception. The materialistic conception is that matter is in movement within itself and produces the idea and therefore one must control circumstances, therefore the individual is not important. Whereas according to the other, the religious conception, idea shapes matter, that is God, or what you will, controls and shapes matter and therefore there is absolute value, absolute virtue, and it is the reality. The materialist, the socialist, the extreme leftist say that there is no such thing as absolute value; man is merely the product of environment and he changes his values according to environment and therefore environment controls and shapes him according to a system. These theorists force him, put him into a straight jacket of thought so that he would function effectively as a citizen in a mechanized society and so the individual is not at all important because he is merely matter to be shaped. Don't take sides. I am not taking sides. To the rightist the individual is important only so long as there is no crisis. When there is a war, the individual is no longer important. He is brought into the war and shot. So, both the left and the right meet in moments of crisis, and the individual is sacrificed. This is what is happening in the world today. Though we believe in absolute value and that man, the individual is the sacred expression of that value, he is nevertheless sacrificed, he is regimented, he is directed in moments of crisis as a war or other national disaster. To the leftist, man is not important, the individual is not important, he may eventually become an important entity, but in the meantime he must be controlled, shaped. Now, the leftist starts with his theory, his system; and the rightist denies all that the leftist says, and believes that God has created him. He has his bible and the leftist has his bible. So, both are approaching the problem with a conditioned mind, conditioned by Marx or by the Bible, Bhagavad Gita, or what you will. If I want to find out where the truth is, how do I start? It is a fact that I am the result of my environment as you also are, obviously. You are the creature of your senses because after all you are a Hindu or a Christian or a Mussalman, you are the result of your environment. You have been told to believe in God and you believe in God. You go to the temple or not according to your conditioning. Whether left or right you are conditioned, which implies environment has shaped your mind. So you are partly, not wholly, a result of your environment; and in order to find out what is true you must go deeper and deeper into the whole problem of the senses and not categorically stop at a certain point. So, you have to experiment with yourself to find out how far your thinking, your feeling is merely sensory, your values sensate, and not accept, as the rightists do, that God is absolute, and then try to find the absolute. If you do merely accept, you are exactly like the leftist who denies, because you are then merely experiencing, living, according to your conditioning. You will not find the truth, because you have arbitrarily decided in advance that there is or there is not. Whereas if you want to find the truth you must obviously begin with the senses because that is all you know. You can speculate on all the rest but in understanding the sensate values you can go deeper and deeper into the whole problem of consciousness. You don't take anything for granted, nor accept anything in order to believe. You begin experimenting and then you will find for yourself whether you are merely the result of the environmental influences or if you are the idea moving upon matter. You will find that it is neither, but that it is something else. When you put it as matter moving upon idea or idea moving upon matter, then they are put as opposites, as antithetical. As I said before, if you approach a problem from the point of view of the opposite, then the opposite contains its own opposite. After all when the left and the right are treated as opposites the left is the continuation of the right; it is the denial of the right only at certain points but it is nevertheless the continuation of the right. So, in order to understand this problem you cannot approach it either from the left or from the right; acceptance of the left or of the right is a denial of truth. Food, clothing and shelter are sensate values; and your thinking is obviously sensate and so are your feelings. From there you can proceed and then going deeper into the psychological process you will find there comes a silence, there comes an absolute, not a relative tranquillity. It is not sensory, not sensate, it is not self-induced. In that silence you will find truth when the mind is really still, - not only when the superficial layer of consciousness, but the whole consciousness is still, when it is not inquiring, when it is not seeking, - when it is not urged by desires. Then in that real tranquillity, which is not induced, which is not invited, you will find the Truth, but when you accept either the left or the right surely you cannot find the Truth of anything. Acceptance is the very denial of Truth. December 21, 1947 MADRAS 11TH PUBLIC TALK 28TH DECEMBER, 1947 This will be the last Sunday talk. Though I have gone over many subjects and approached our human problem from different points of view I think it may be just as well if I made, not exactly a summary, but a general survey of what we have been discussing during the last ten weeks. Naturally I cannot do it in detail and, as time is limited, I will naturally have to be very concise but I hope that those of you who have followed these discussions and talks will understand their true significance rather than accept merely the words. We must have realized not only through newspapers but through our everyday contact with life, with our neighbours, our friends, our families, the increasing confusion and misery all around us, politically, socially, religiously; and the same confusion exists in our relationship with each other, that is, with society. So, how are we to understand this increasing confusion and misery and bring order and happiness? I think that is what every thoughtful man is concerned with; I am not talking of those people who are concerned with systems, for they are really not thoughtful people at all; they want to impress upon people a system by means of which happiness or order could be brought about, they are concerned with systems and not with human beings. So, we are not discussing systems or organizations, but how to bring about order in this mad chaotic world. To go far you must begin very near, mustn't you? You must begin with what is very close, which is yourself. That is, we see this chaos about us, mounting disaster, mounting wars and terrible cruelties and misery; how are we to solve these? It is a vast confused puzzle and where must we begin to bring order and happiness? Surely with yourself, mustn't you? You are the focal point of all this chaos, surely; if we understand that, we will begin with ourselves, each one of us, I with myself and you with yourself. But, somehow we fail to realize this basic fact, that we are the important keystone in the whole structure of society. What is the relationship between yourself and the misery, the confusion in and around you? Surely this confusion, this misery did not come into being by itself. You and I have created it, not a capitalist or a communist or a fascist society, but you and I have created it in our relation: ship with each other. What you are within has been projected without, onto the world; what you are, what you think and what you feel, what you do in your everyday existence, is projected outwardly and that constitutes the world. If we are miserable, confused, chaotic within, by projection that becomes the world, that becomes society, because the relationship between yourself and myself, between myself and another is society -society is the product of our relationship - and if our relationship is confused, egocentric, narrow, limited, national, we project that and bring chaos into the world. So, what you are, the world is. So your problem is the world's problem. Surely, this is a simple and basic fact, is it not? In our relationship with the one or the many we seem somehow to overlook this point all the time. We want to bring about alteration through a system or through a revolution in ideas or values, based on a system, forgetting that it is you and I who create society, who bring about confusion or order by the way in which we live. So, we must begin near, that is, we must concern ourselves, with our daily existence, with our daily thoughts and feelings and actions which are revealed in the manner of earning our livelihood and in our relationship with ideas or beliefs. This is our daily existence, is it not? We are concerned with livelihood, getting jobs, earning money, we are concerned with the relationship with our family or with our neighbours, and we are concerned with ideas and with beliefs. Now, if you examine our occupation, it is fundamentally based on envy, it is not just a means of earning a livelihood. Society is so constructed that it is a process of constant conflict, constant becoming; it is based on greed, on envy, envy of your superior; the clerk wanting to become the manager, which shows that he is not just concerned with earning a livelihood, a means of subsistence but with acquiring position and prestige. This attitude naturally creates havoc in society, in relationship, but if you and I were only concerned with livelihood we would find out the right means of earning it, a means not based on envy. Envy is one of the most destructive factors in relationship because envy indicates the desire for power, for position and it ultimately leads to politics; both are closely related; the clerk when he seeks to become a manager, becomes a factor in the creation of power politics which produce war. So, he is directly responsible for war. What is our relationship based on? The relationship between yourself and myself, between yourself and another - which is society - what is it based on? Surely not on love, though we talk about it. It is not based on love because if there were love there would be order, there would be peace, happiness between you and me. But in that relationship between you and me there is a great deal of ill will which assumes the form of respect. If we were both equal in thought, in feeling, there would be no respect, there would be no ill will, because we would be two individuals meeting, not as disciple and teacher, nor as the husband dominating the wife, nor as the wife dominating the husband. When there is ill will there is a desire to dominate which arouses jealousy, anger, passion, all of which in our relationship create constant conflict from which we try to escape, and this produces further chaos, further misery. Now as regards ideas which are part of our daily existence, beliefs and formulations, are they not distorting our minds? For, what is stupidity? Stupidity is the giving of wrong values to those things which the mind creates, or to those things which the hands produce. Most of our thoughts spring from the self-protective instinct, do they not? Our ideas, oh, so many of them, do they not receive the wrong significance which they have not in themselves? And therefore, when we believe in any form, whether religious, economic or social, when we believe in God, in ideas, in a social system which separates man from man, in nationalism and so on, surely we are giving a wrong significance to belief, which indicates stupidity, for belief divides people, doesn't unite people. So we see that by the way we live, we can produce order or chaos, peace or conflict, happiness or misery. So, what we have been discussing for the past eleven weeks is directly related to our daily life, to our daily existence and is not theoretical. To bring order out of this confusion, out of this chaos which we have projected outwardly because inwardly we are chaotic, envious and stupid, is virtue. You can only bring order and peace and happiness through self-knowledge, and not by following a particular system, either economic or religious. But to know one's self is most difficult. It is very easy to follow a system for you don't have to think very much, you give yourself over to a party, either the left or the right, and thereby close your thinking process. To be aware of the activities of your daily existence requires thoughtfulness, intelligence, awareness which very few people are willing to practice. They would rather reform society than understand their own activity, their own thought, their own feelings, yet it is they who really create misery and havoc. Self-knowledge is not the knowledge of some supreme self, which is still within the field of the mind, but the knowledge of yourself in your daily action, what you do every day, what you feel, what you think every moment. This requires extraordinary alertness, does it not? There must be constant alertness to pursue every thought, every feeling and to know all their contents. From self-knowledge comes right thinking, therefore, right action which is really extremely simple when you are aware, but extremely difficult when you talk theoretically about it. Most of us are so callous about everything, about life itself, that we would rather discuss what is self-knowledge than be aware. Yet it is only through right thinking which comes through self-knowledge, the knowledge of everything we do, think and feel, that we can bring order and peace, and not in any other way. No system of philosophy, either of the left or of the right, can bring order, peace and happiness to men because it is you and I who have created this misery, through our everyday stupidity, ill will and envy. These things cannot be eradicated until we understand them. We can only understand them as they function within us, in you and in me, and not by theoretically reading about them in any book; and through understanding them we will bring virtue into being and virtue gives freedom and that freedom is Truth. I have many questions to answer. I have chosen seven as representing the many and I am going to try to answer these seven questions as quickly and as concisely as possible. Question: Can an ignorant man with many responsibilities understand and so carry out your teachings without the aid of another, without resorting to books and to teachers? Krishnamurti: Now, can understanding be given to another? Can you be taught how to love? Can you go to a guru, a teacher, or read a book and learn how to love, how to be kind, how to be generous and how to understand? Can you follow another and be free? Can you accept authority and yet be creative? Surely creativeness comes only when there is freedom, inward freedom, when there is no fear, when there is no imitation, when there is no submission to authority whether of a sacred book or of a teacher. Now, who is the ignorant man? Surely the ignorant man is the man who does not know himself, and not the man who is not learned; The learned man is really stupid in his ignorance because he relies on knowledge, books, outward authority to give him understanding, but understanding comes only through self-knowledge which is the true state of yourself, the state of your total process and not only one part of your being, either the material or the psychological for both these act and react upon each other. The study of yourself, which is self-knowledge, is extraordinarily arduous as it demands constant awareness which is not introspection because introspection is merely the improvement of the self, the self which is functioning every day. Improvement implies condemnation and depression; that is introspection, but awareness is totally different. Awareness can only come into being when you are not condemning when you are alertly passive. So, self-knowledge is the beginning of wisdom. Now, the questioner asks: Can an ignorant man, with many responsibilities, understand and carry out your teachings without the aid of a teacher? Obviously, if you accept authority there cannot be understanding, for authority is ever blinding whether it be outward authority or inward authority; and to have many responsibilities implies relationship, does it not? And relationship is a process of self-revelation. Only in relationship can you find out. There is no such thing as living in isolation. Even the man who seeks to avoid the world and run away from the world, is in relationship with others, because to exist is to be related and in the relationship between you and me, between yourself and another, the activities of the self are revealed. Surely in order to know yourself, to know what you think, what you feel, you don't have to go to a guru. Though it is arduous no one can help you to follow out every thought, every feeling and to realize their implications and their significance. You and I can discuss it, go into it significantly, with complete concentration, with interest, but because you are not really interested, you will go to someone else to find out how to think, how to discover and that is the misfortune. The moment you are interested, the moment you recognize your responsibility in relationship then that very process begins to unwrap the ways of your own thoughts and actions. So, the problem is not whether you should read books or go to teachers but whether, very simply, you are aware of what you are doing, of what you are thinking, when you put on your sacred threads, your namams, when you talk to your servants; aware of the way you treat your wives, your children and your neighbours. Be aware every moment and see what happens. You will see that when you are aware, there will be conflict, greater conflict than before; because you then begin to see the significance of your actions, of your thoughts and feelings, and this will bring you further misery, and as we want to avoid suffering we turn to gurus, books, which are merely escapes and therefore create further misery in us and therefore in society. So, what is important is to be creative but creativeness does not come through imitation, creativeness comes into being only when there is freedom. Surely you do have ideas and feelings at moments when you are not imitating, when you are quiet and when you are silent. There is creativeness only when there is cessation of fear, when you are not concerned about your own activities, about your miseries and misfortunes. Only in that state of freedom from your daily existence, your daily worries, is there that creativeness, and that creativeness cannot be learned, it comes into being when your daily problems are understood, but you cannot understand them through a book, through a teacher but only by coming into direct contact with them, by being aware of them every minute of the day. This is very arduous, it requires swiftness of thought. But as most of us are dull, as most of us are merely imitating, copying tradition or following a system, our minds are sluggish. To break away from those things which make us dull requires direct action; but as we have committed ourselves, it is very difficult because it means more disruption and as we are unwilling to face it we turn to books, to teachers who will gratify us, who will pacify us in our dullness. So, understanding comes only through self-knowledge and not through a book or through a teacher. Question: What is the awareness that you speak of? Is it the awareness of the supreme universal consciousness? Krishnamurti: Surely, Sirs, to be aware means very simply, to be aware of yourself in relation to your neighbour, to the flower, to the bird, to the tree; to be aware of your own thoughts, feelings and actions, because you must begin very near, mustn't you, to go very far. You cannot be aware of something that you don't know; you talk about universal consciousness, but you don't know it. If you do know it, surely it is not the Real. You have learned of it in a book or you have been told about it. It is still within the field of the mind, of the memory; you want to begin with the most difficult and far away and not with the near, because it is much easier to be aware of God, for you can lose yourself in an idea, in imagination. But to be aware of your own daily acts, daily feelings, daily thoughts is much more painful and so you would rather be aware of something far away than of the things very close, such as your relationship with your wife or with your neighbour. You can be aware of love ideologically for it is the farthest and the most difficult thing. But to be aware, in our relationship how cruel we are, thoughtless, callous, self-enclosed, is very painful, and being conscious of the immediate pain which direct awareness brings, we would rather think of, or be aware of the universal consciousness, whatever that may mean, which again is a form of escape from the actual, from what is. So, the awareness I am speaking of, is the awareness of what is, what is actually, directly in front of you, because in understanding what is, which is the very nearest, you can reach great depths, great heights; then there is no deception, then there is no self-illusion, because in the understanding of what is there is transformation. You will find that awareness is not condemnation or identification but a process of understanding of what is. If you condemn, if you, identify, you stop thinking, do you not? If you want to understand your child and if you condemn him you don't understand him. Similarly if you have a feeling, which is `what is', don't condemn it, don't identify it with yourself, don't cling to it but be aware of it; and by becoming aware of it you will find that you can go deeper and deeper into it and therefore discover the whole content of what is. Awareness of what is, must be choice: less which again is very arduous. Awareness is that state of choicelessness, because if you want to understand something you must not condemn or identify, it must tell you its story. After all, if you observe a child, if you want to understand him, if you want to study him, his ways, his mannerisms, his idiosyncrasies, his moods, you can only do that if you don't condemn him or identify yourself with him, saying: this is my child. Condemnation, justification or identification prevents understanding and to be aware of the whole total process of what is, there must be choiceless observation. You do just that when you are interested in something, when you are vitally interested in pursuing something, in understanding something; you are not criticizing, you are not condemning, you give all your mind and heart to it. But, unfortunately we are trained educationally and religiously to condemn and not to understand. After all, condemnation is very easy, but to understand is very arduous, understanding requires intelligence, condemnation does not demand any intelligence at all, condemnation is a form of self-protection just as identification is. When you condemn you protect yourself, but if you want to understand what is, condemnation is a barrier. If you want to understand the state of the world as it is now, its appalling misery, surely it is no good condemning it, you must investigate it, you must observe from different points of view, from the psychological, economic, and so on. It is a total process and to understand the total process you cannot condemn it in part. We condemn because it is so easy to condemn, while to be aware and to pursue all the implications requires a great deal of patience, a capacity to penetrate and to be still. You understand only when there is stillness, when there is silent observation, passive awareness. Then the problem yields you its significance. So, the awareness of which I am speaking is awareness of what is, and not of something which is the invention of the mind. Being aware implies awareness of the mind's activities in which are included ideas, beliefs but also the tricks which the mind plays upon itself. So, be aware of what is, without condemnation, without justification or identification, then you will see that there is a deeper understanding which resolves our problems. Question: I am very interested in your teachings; I would like to spread them. What is the best way to do it? Krishnamurti: Many things are involved in this question. Let us look at it. Propaganda is a lie because mere repetition is not Truth. What you can repeat is a lie. Truth cannot be repeated for Truth can only be experienced directly; mere repetition is a lie because repetition implies imitation. That which you repeat may be Truth to someone but when you repeat it, it ceases to be Truth. Propaganda is one of the terrible things in which we are caught. You know something or you don't know. Usually you have read something in some books and you have heard some talk and you want to spread it. Have words any significance besides the verbal meaning? So what you are spreading is really words and do words or terms, resolve our problems? Say, for instance, you believe in reincarnation; you don't know why you believe but you want to spread that belief. What are you spreading in fact? Your belief, terms, words, your convictions which are still within the field, within the layer of verbal expression. We think in words, in terms, we seek explanations which are still only words and we are caught in this monstrous lie, believing that the word is the thing. Surely, the word God is not God, but you believe that the word is God and that therefore you can spread it. Please see this. To you the word has become important, and not Reality. So you are caught in the verbal level and what you want to spread is the word. That means you will catch what I am saying in the net of words and so cause a new division between man and man. Then you will create a new system based on Krishnamurti's words which you the propagandist will spread among other propagandists who are also caught in words and thereby what have you done? Whom have you helped? No, Sirs, that is not the way to spread. So don't try what is stupid, what is the height of folly - to spread someone else's experience. If you experience something directly, it would be experience not based on belief; because what you believe you experience and therefore it is not real experience but only conditioned experience; there can be experience, the right kind of experience only when thinking ceases, but that experience cannot be spread as information to clear the mess. But, if you begin to understand simple things like nationalism, surely you can discuss it with others, in order to make it known as a poison which is destroying man. Sirs, you are not aware of the enormous calamity that lies in wait for you and for the whole world because this poison is spreading. You are nationalists, you are Hindus against pakistan, against England, against Germany, against Russia, and so on. So, nationalism is a poison, is it not? You can understand that very easily, because it divides men. You cannot be a nationalist and talk of brotherhood; these terms are contradictory. That also you can understand, that you can talk about. But you don't want to talk about that because that would mean a change of heart within yourself, which means that you must cease to be a Hindu with your beliefs, ceremonies and all the rubbish that is around you. We don't talk about nationalism because we might be asked if we are free of it ourselves. Not being free, we evade it and try to discuss something else. Surely you can talk about something which you live and which you are doing every day, and that is what I have been talking about - your daily actions, your daily thoughts and feelings. My words you cannot repeat; for, if you do, they will have no meaning; but you can talk about the way you live, the way you act, the way you think, from which alone there can be understanding; all that, you can discuss; but there is no use of groups with presidents and Secretaries and organizations which are terrible things in which you are often caught. Sirs, though you all smile, yet surely you are all caught in these. I don't think you know how catastrophic the whole situation is in the world now. I don't have to frighten you. You have merely to pick up a newspaper and read about it. You are on the edge of a precipice and you still perform ceremonies, carry on in your stupid ways, blind to what is happening. You can only alter by transformation of yourself and not by the introduction of a new system whether of the left or of the right. In the transformation of yourself is the only hope but you cannot transform yourself, radically, profoundly, if you are above all a Hindu, if you perform ceremonies, if you are caught in the net of organizations. As it has always been in the past, so also at the present time the salvation of man is in his being creative. You are caught inwardly in belief, in fear and in those hindrances that prevent the coming together of man and man. That is, if I don't know how to love you, how to love my neighbour, my wife, how can there be communion between us. We need communion, not communion between systems but communion between you and me without systems, without organizations and that means we must really know how to love one another, our hearts must be opened to one another, but your hearts cannot be open if you belong to an organization, if you are bound by beliefs, if you are nationalistic, if you are a brahmin or a sudra. So, you can spread even a tiny part of what I have been talking about, only as you live it. It is by your life that you communicate profoundly, not through words. Words, Sirs, to a serious, thoughtful man have very little meaning. Terms are of very little significance when you are really seeking Truth, Truth in relationship and not an abstract Truth of valuations, of things, or of ideas. If you want to find the truth of those things verbally, it is of little importance; but words become very important when you are not seeking Truth; then the word is the thing and then the thing catches you. So, if you want to spread these teachings, live them, and by your life you will be spreading them, you will be communicating them, which is much more true and significant than verbal repetition, for repetition is imitation and imitation is not creativeness and you as an individual must awake to your own conditioning and thereby free yourself and hence give love to another. Question: Is marriage necessary for women? Krishnamurti: I don't know why it is necessary for women any more than it is for men. This is really an enormous problem. We will try to tackle it. First of all we are trying to understand the problem, we are not trying to condemn it or identify with it or justify it. We are trying to understand the problem of marriage, in which is implied sexual relationship, love, companionship, communion. Obviously if there is no love, marriage becomes a disgrace, does it not? Then it becomes mere gratification. To love is one of the most difficult things, is it not? Love can come into being, can exist only when the self is absent. Without love, relationship is a pain; however gratifying, or however superficial, it leads to boredom, to routine, to habit with all its implications. Then, sexual problems become all important. In considering marriage, whether it is necessary or not, one must first comprehend love. Surely, love is chaste, without love you cannot be chaste; you may be a celibate, whether a man or a woman, but that is not being chaste, that is not being pure, if there is no love. If you have an ideal of chastity, that is if you want to become chaste, there is no love in it either because it is merely the desire to become something which you think is noble, which you think will help you to find Reality; there is no love there at all. Licentiousness is not chaste, it leads only to degradation, to misery. So does the pursuit of an ideal. Both exclude love, both imply becoming something, indulging in something and therefore you become important and where you are important, love is not. So, that is one of the problems. Then, if you are not married, consider the difficulties, either for man or woman. Biologically, the woman `needs' to fulfil herself in a child. When she is deprived of that she is starved, as she is starved when she is deprived of love. And as most women are deprived of love they seek fulfillment in things or in their children. So, children and things become all important to women, whereas the man tries to fulfil himself in work and activity. But is there fulfillment? I hope you are following all this. If I try to fulfil myself through things, through family, through ideas, then family, names, things and ideas become very important. And therefore I give value to things, to relationship, to ideas. I give them a greater value than they have because they are important to me. I introduce wrong laws, wrong methods, wrong values instead of finding out if there is fulfillment. What do we mean by fulfillment? As long as we are seeking fulfillment there is fear, is there not? I want to fulfil myself in my family, in my name, in my continuity or in things or in ideas. So, there is always a desire for fulfillment where there is frustration. I want to fulfil myself because I am aware that I am not fulfilling myself. The fact is I am not fulfilling. I am empty, I would like to fill that emptiness. So, what happens? I merely pursue fulfillment without understanding `what is'. If I understood what is, which is my emptiness, my hollowness, my shallowness, my pettiness, then I could transform that. There is a tremendous revolution in that. But, if I merely pursue fulfillment, then there is misery because I seek fulfillment in so many ways, which is merely a continuation of my own emptiness. So, that is one of the problems. Then there is the problem of creativeness which is not merely the breeding of children. Sirs, a man who is happy inwardly, who is creative, does not bother whether he is married or unmarried, he is not seeking fulfillment, he is not escaping through passion, through lust. We cease to be creative when we are imitative, when we are merely functioning according to the response of memory. The response of memory is generally called thinking but such thinking is merely a response of the framework of references which is memory, and that is not real thinking. There is real thinking only when there is no response to memory. In that passive alert awareness, there is creativeness. When you are in that state, then life with all its passions, with all its desires, fades away which does not mean that you cease to love, on the contrary. Sirs, in order to communicate with another there must be love. It is because we have not that love that all these problems arise: whether I should or should not marry, whom should I marry, the sexual problem, creativeness and so on. But unfortunately, love is something you cannot learn, it is something which cannot be translated. It comes into being when you have no problem. Have you not found yourselves walking along the streets sometimes, looking at the stars, looking at the sky, or the sunset and feeling happy without knowing why? At such times you want to put your arm around another, you are really in communion with man. But unfortunately, we are so occupied with our own thoughts and problems and fears and our envy, that we have no time to be in communion. You don't know your wife, you don't know your husband or your children. You may have children but there is no love, because you and your wife are isolated. You are hiding behind a wall of your own making and without breaking down that wall, there cannot be communion and to commune there must be love. Without love, mere search for chastity, celibacy, is unchaste. When there is love there is chastity, purity, there is incorruptibility. Question: I have listened to what you have been saying and I feel that to carry out your teachings I must renounce the world I live in. Krishnamurti: Sir, you cannot renounce the world, can you? What is the world? The world is made up of things, relationships and ideas. How can you give up things? Even if you give up your house you will still have a `kurtha'. You may renounce your wife but you will still be in relation with someone, with the milkman, for instance, or the man who gives you food. And you cannot renounce belief, can you? I wish you would. Begin there, if you must renounce something, renounce the wrong valuations which you have given to everything. Wrong valuations create havoc and it is from these wrong valuations which cause misery that you want to escape. You don't want to understand that you are giving wrong values. You want to escape from the result of wrong values but if you understood the world, which is - ideas, relationship, things -and their true significance, then you would not be in conflict with the world. You cannot withdraw from the world, to withdraw means isolation and you cannot live in isolation. You can live in isolation only in an asylum, but not by renouncing the world. You can only live truly happily with the world when you are not of the world, which means you don't give wrong values to the things in the world. This can happen only when you understand yourself the giver of wrong values. Sirs, it is like a stupid man trying to renounce stupidity. He will still be stupid, he may try to become clever but he will remain stupid. But if he understood what stupidity is, that is, himself, surely then he would reach great heights. Then he would have wisdom. It is not by renouncing that you can find Reality. By renouncing you escape into illusion; you do not discover that which is true. So, what I have been saying is that one must give right values to things, to relationship, to ideas and not try to escape from the world. It is comparatively easy to go away into isolation, but it is extremely arduous to be aware and to give true values. Sirs, things have no value in themselves. The house has no value in itself but it has the value you give it. If psychologically you are empty, insufficient in yourself, the house becomes very important because you identify yourself with the house, and then comes the problem of attachment and renunciation. It is really stupid, and if you understood your inward nature, your inward hollowness, then the problem would have very little meaning. Everything becomes extraordinarily significant when you are trying to use it to cover up your own loneliness. Similarly with relationship, with ideas, with belief. So, there is richness only in understanding the significance of what is, and not in running away into isolation. Question: a) Life hurls at us one problem after another. Will the state of awareness of which you speak, enable us to understand and solve, once and for all, the whole question of problems or have they to be solved one after the other? Question: b) I feel certain deep urges which need to be disciplined. What is the best way of disciplining them? Krishnamurti: Sirs, it is a very difficult problem. Those of you who are really earnest must give your mind and heart to it. First of all there are problems one after the other. Life is one constant battle of problems and we want to know how to solve them, how to meet them or how to discipline ourselves in order to resist them. That is the whole problem: How are we to discipline ourselves so as not to let problems affect us, how are we to prevent this constant arising of problems? Can they be cut off at the root once and for all? So, there are several things involved in this question. You will be pursued by problems, one after the other, with their constant annoyance and pain, constant apprehensions if you don't understand who is the creator of problems. If you understand who is the creator of problems, then naturally you will not deal with the problems one by one; that would be utterly stupid. If I understand the cause and not merely the symptoms, then the symptoms cease to be. Similarly if I understand who is the creator of the problems, then the problems cease to be, then there is no question of tackling first one problem and then another. Then, there is implied the problem of the thinker and the thought, of the one who disciplines and the one who is disciplined. The thinker, the imitator, the discipliner is trying to discipline his thought. This is one of the problems, and the other is how to resist attack from the outside. So, let us begin with the resistance first. Do you resist when you understand something? Surely not. Discipline exists only as a measure of resistance; otherwise you don't need discipline at all. If through discipline you can create a certain habit, a certain isolation, a certain enclosure then you think you will no longer be afraid. So, discipline, which is resistance or a means of self-protection exists when there is no understanding. If you understand a problem, then the problem ceases. You don't have to resist it. For example, if you understand why you are arrogant then you don't have to resist arrogance. Your disciplining yourself is again arrogance, pride, the pride of achieving, the pride of becoming, the pride of being somebody, it is the search for power, position. If you understand all of that then you will never resist, and you will not discipline your mind `not to be arrogant'. So, to understand `what is', is extremely difficult because to understand what is, there must be no distraction of an opposite; for instance, of humility which is the opposite of arrogance. There must be complete concentration on `what is'. So, discipline exists only as a form of resistance. You discipline yourself in order not to be tempted, you discipline yourself against something. But, discipline as a mode of resistance, which is violence, ceases only when you understand it, when you are aware of it, when you don't reject it, when you don't condemn it. You will find that through awareness there comes a discipline which is not imposed, a discipline of extraordinary intelligence and pliability. A man who resists is really `dead,' he is `enclosed' to a man who is independent and free. So, discipline is resistance, I am using the word to include all modes and practices used for self-protection. Discipline is a form of resistance and where there is resistance, there is enclosure and where there is enclosure there is no understanding, there is no communion. A disciplined man is merely righteous and a righteous man has no love in his heart, he is enclosed within the walls of his becoming. The other point in this question is whether problems can be solved all at once, in one stroke cut off at the root. But first we must discover who is the creator of problems. If the creator is understood the problems will cease. The creator of the problem is the thinker, is he not? Problems do not exist apart from the thinker, that is obvious, is it not? The thinker is the creator of the problems whether many or one. Now, is the thinker separate from his thoughts? If he is separate, then the problem will continue because he creates the problem, separates himself from it and deals with the problem. But if the thinker is the thought, inseparably, then being the creator, he can begin to solve himself without being concerned with the problem, or with the thought. Now, you think that the thinker is separate from his thought, that is exactly what all your religious books, your philosophies are based on. Is that not so? It does not matter what the Bhagavad Gita says or what any book says. Is the thinker separate from his thought? If he is separate, problems will continue, if he is not, then he can be freed of the source of all problems. If the thinker is separate from his thoughts, how does he become separated? Remove the qualities of the thinker, remove his thoughts, where is the thinker? The thinker is not. Remove the qualities of the self which is memory, ambition and so on, where is the self? But if you say the self is not the thinker but some other entity behind the thinker, he is still the thinker, because you have only pushed the thinker further back. Now, why has the thinker separated himself from his thoughts? The thinker cannot be without thought because if there is no thought there is no thinker. Now the thinker has separated himself from the thought for the simple reason that thought can be transformed, can be modified, and so in order to give himself permanency the thinker separates himself from the thought and thereby gives himself permanency. The thought being transient, mutable, can be altered, but the thinker who creates the thought can be permanent. He is the permanent entity, whereas the thought is changeable, it can be changed according to circumstances, according to environ- mental influences but he the thinker remains. He is the thought and if thought ceases he is not, surely, although all our books say differently. Just think it out for yourself for the first time. Put your books aside, forget your authorities and look at the problem directly. Without the thought the thinker is not and the thinker creates the thought and separates himself from it in order to protect himself; thereby he gives stability, certainty to himself and continuity. Now, how does the thinker come into being? Obviously through desire. Desire is the outcome of perception, contact, sensation, identification and `me'. Perception of a car, contact, sensation, desire, identification, and `I like it', `I want it'. So, I am the product, the thinker is the product of desire, and having produced the `I', the `I' separates itself from the thought because it can then transform the thought and yet remain permanent. So, as long as the thinker is separate from his thought, there will be problems, one after the other, innumerable problems; but if there is no separation, if the thinker is the thought, then what happens? Then the thinker himself undergoes a transformation, a radical, fundamental transformation, and that, as I have said, is meditation. It is self-knowledge, it is all that I have said about the thinker; how he separates himself from the thought and how the thinker has come into being. You can test it for yourself. You don't have to read a sacred book to find out the truth of it. That is the beginning of self-knowledge and from that there comes meditation. Meditation is the ending of thought of the thinker, by not giving significance to the thinker, by not giving continuity to the thinker. The thinker is disciplining his thought, separating himself so as to give continuity to himself through property, through family, through ideas, and as long as the thinker exists there will be problems and it is when the thinker ceases thinking, that meditation begins. Meditation is self-knowledge and without self-knowledge there is no meditation. You will find that if you go into the whole question of self-knowledge which is the beginning of wisdom - not by any practice because practice is merely resistance - you can go deeper and deeper starting with the centre which is the desire creating the `I', the self; and when that self continues in the Atman or higher self it is still the thinker merely pushing further back his permanency. Till you are aware of this whole process there is no ending of the problem. But when you become aware, you will find that time has ceased - time as memory of the past and the future -and that there is the immediate present, the eternal, and in this alone is Reality. December 28, 1947 MADRAS 1ST GROUP DISCUSSION 24TH OCTOBER, 1947 Before we begin to discuss, I would like to say something about the discussion and its purpose. First of all, it is not a club for disputation and argumentation. In Europe and in America, we had groups of different types of people and we went into things that we thought were very important; we continued such clubs for a couple of months or even sometimes longer. At the end of it, some did understand. Similarly, I hope that during these months or weeks of discussion we will get somewhere. I feel that each one of us must discover or prepare the field so that Reality comes into being; because, Reality is the only solution of our problems whether economic, social, religious, or of relationship between ourselves. Without the realisation of that, I do not see how any problem in the world can be solved. My intention in holding these discussions is to help each other to realize it. It is going to be very arduous because it requires real revolution in thinking, in all the phases of our life. I feel that it is a matter of life and death. Therefore, before we begin to discuss, we must know our various intentions, that is, the relationship between yourself and myself, I may want to go north and you may want to go south; we may eventually meet because south and north do meet as the earth is round. We are going to discover what our intentions are during these discussions. So, please bear in mind the importance of relationship between ourselves so that we may both go to the same direction not compulsorily but naturally, spontaneously. Before we begin to discuss anything, we ought to know our intention, what it is that we want, or what it is that we are unconsciously, deeply, seeking. If we can find that, our problems become comparatively simple. Another point in discussion is that I will use words which have meaning to me but not to you. I am using words very carefully because they have a meaning to me, and I use very simple and straight language which I am willing to explain carefully. I do not know if you have ever thought about this. Words have the verbal meaning as well as the nervous response. Take, for example, the word God. It has a verbal as well as a nervous response. These discussions should not deteriorate into mere argumentation, nor should we indulge in verbal expression. We want to discuss together so that we can see something which is beyond words, beyond emotional, sentimental or intellectual froth. And that can only be done if each one of us is willing to expose himself. These discussions should give an opportunity to understand ourselves. As it is not questioning and answering, do not put questions and wait for my answer. We travel together on a journey. I may perhaps know a little more than you do. You are also travelling on that road. You do not have to sit on the roadside and know little of the journey. We are making the same journey and discovering together. It is like unfolding a map and seeing the various places and proceeding on the right path. Then, this is a mutual discovery. If we are willing to undertake the journey together, it will be a process of self-discovery and self- understanding, from which we begin to think rightly and, therefore, act rightly. MADRAS 2ND GROUP DISCUSSION 24TH OCTOBER, 1947 We have many problems - economic, social, religious and of relationship between one another. The reality of each problem is its own solution. The purpose of our discussions is to discover, or prepare the field, so that Reality comes into being. Words have a verbal meaning as well as a nervous response and their full significance has to be understood. There has to be self-discovery. Self-understanding alone leads to right thinking and right acting. In discussing, we should become aware of our own ways of thinking. It would then be possible to bring about almost instantaneous perception of truth and to change ourselves radically, fundamentally and immediately. What are the chief obstacles in the way of understanding? We see things with a bias, at an angle, with a prejudice, with a desire to escape from the problem; there are also subconscious blockages. Our problems are not static but ever-changing; to understand them, we should be as alert as the problems. Therefore, any intellectual, verbal or authoritarian, positive or negative conclusion - which is a picture of the past - is a hindrance to understanding; so also is a hypothesis, working or otherwise. For example, you cannot understand your son if you first discuss with professors and experts, form conclusions, and then look at your son in the light of such conclusions. To understand a living problem, one should be alert and watchful and must follow the movement of life as quickly and correctly as possible. If you have a ready-made conclusion or hypothesis, it means that you have not understood life. A conclusion is an impediment as it only remains on the verbal level; but if you see the truth of a matter or if you discover a fact by your own thinking, it is not a conclusion. MADRAS 3RD GROUP DISCUSSION 25TH OCTOBER, 1947 There are in the world as it exists today, two categories of people, each category with its own way of thinking based on study and experimentation. Both have formed systems of their own, upon which they are working. Ideologically, tremendous efforts are being made to bring you under one or the other of these two: Matter is in movement and therefore creates the idea. Man is only the product of environment and can therefore be compelled or shaped to any form of action. Therefore, any means is justified if it achieves the end in view, and It is the idea which moves upon matter and controls it. The means and the end will both be of the same kind, i.e., wrong means will mean wrong end and right means right end. Both these are conclusions and they are therefore bound to retard thinking. Any conclusion or hypothesis - Individualism or Collectivism, Capitalism or Socialism or Communism, Reincarnation, etc. - is a belief. By accepting a belief, you exclude all other forms of thinking. Belief in God does not mean understanding God. A mind tethered to a belief, hypothesis or conclusion - whether based on its own experience or the experience of others - cannot go far; it is not free but conditioned. Therefore, belief is a hindrance to understanding. When the mind seeks safety, security - i.e. something concrete on which it can anchor - it has recourse to a conclusion or to a hypothesis. Experimentation does not lead to conclusion; the experimenter keeps on watching, looking and observing. To understand what is taking place in the experiment, he is in a receptive mood, quiet and sensitive like a photographic plate, without criticising or condemning. So also should be our attitude if we would understand the full significance of a marvellous scene, a picture, or a poem. Relationship is a living thing and as a living thing it is self-revealing. Yet, as we base it on our beliefs and conclusions, it ceases to be 'living' and becomes a problem. You cannot have vested interests - economic, psychological or spiritual - and at the same time freedom. Awareness of our 'conditioning' or 'blockages' will lead to a sea of troubles. "My son, if you come to serve God, come prepared for temptation". Those who are pursuing Truth will have to meet troubles; it is they who are going to change the world. We discovered that any form of conclusion, right or wrong, immediate or ultimate, now or final, or any form of working hypothesis consciously or unconsciously held, is detrimental to full comprehension or understanding of the whole process of existence. Hindrances are not overcome or broken; but when the mind becomes aware of the hindrances, those hindrances cease to be. What is awareness? There is objective awareness. Then, there is the emotional response to each other or to truth. Then, there is awareness of ideas, of thinking, conscious or unconscious. It is a widening and deepening grasp of both the conscious and unconscious. It is a clear recognition of what is, not what should be or what, ideologically, should take place. To be aware implies to recognize and to know fully and clearly how the "I" is moving, living and functioning - physically, psychologically, consciously or unconsciously. Experience and experiencer, thinker and his thoughts, are the same. For example, at the moment of anger, the person who feels angry and his quality of anger are the same. Just afterwards the thinker separates himself from the quality and condemns the quality if unpleasant or identifies himself with the quality if pleasant. This is because the thinker seeks stability or permanency. When this is understood by the mind, this duality is dissolved. It is a realisable fact that one can change radically, fundamentally and immediately. Mere postponement or lengthen- ing of time is not going to bring about a change. It is possible to bring about almost instantaneous perception of what is Truth and Truth is the liberating factor. To start with, we should be aware of our words, our gestures and our thoughts. The sense of struggle and of not being able to do something creates frustration because there is in your mind an idea of achievement. This means you did not pursue awareness but just stopped there. When there is an idea, let not the mind just stop there, but let it pursue it till the full implications of that idea are understood. For instance, consider nationalism; when you are entrenched in a conclusion called Nationalism, you cannot understand the German or the English. Though we agree with this verbally, we yet continue as before, because our mind is conditioned, i.e., put in a mould socially, economically, and religiously, and it says that we are different from somebody else. Again, we have the desire to identify ourselves with something greater and which is gratifying. On account of a feeling of emptiness, which we dislike, we identify ourselves with a caste or a class, nation, creed or idea which affords security - prestige and position - to us. To dissolve this nationalism in us, we must be aware of the fact that we are national and also that nationalism is detrimental to us. In daily life, most of us do not act up to our intellectual convictions because of our fear to please others, to lose a position, etc.; they are therefore hypocrites to their relatives and later on to the people at large also. Most of us merely follow an old routine of habitual action and thinking. MADRAS 6TH GROUP DISCUSSION 1ST NOVEMBER, 1947 A mind which is trained in a pattern, i.e., specially moulded, conditioned, controlled, either in a creed or in a formula or in an idea, can never know itself. Any suppression or control whether right or wrong, is based on a pattern of behaviour; the mind, being thus controlled, is not free. The mind can discover itself only when it is free of control and when there is a certain spontaneity. Discovery of truth liberates us; we then transform ourselves with joy, clarity and quickness. For example, to find the truth about the need for discipline or otherwise, we must investigate the matter. Some say that if you do not discipline yourself, there will be confusion. Is there not confusion even though you are disciplined? When you have only directed your attention on a particular thing excluding everything else, you still continue to be confused all round. Discipline means education in a certain pattern, i.e., training the mind positively or negatively to a desired pattern, in order to produce a certain result. A disciplined mind is conditioned and therefore static, and a static mind cannot understand the living problem of life. Similarly, practice cannot lead to understanding. The implications of practice are to repeat over and over again, something like discipline. You cannot concentrate your faculties through any method or through any practice. When you practise, you become automatic and thoughtless; an automatic habit cannot lead to awareness. Life's problems are dynamic and living; therefore, to understand them, you must have a mind which is also dynamic and not disciplined. Again, Truth can only come to you, you cannot go to it. It is only when you can go to it that you can discipline yourself to reach it; you can only move from the known to the known and not to the unknown. If the means is 'discipline', the end is bound to be 'disciplined'. Therefore, discipline cannot lead you to freedom. No effort or practice can lead you to understanding. Similarly, freedom is not a gradual process. Understanding cannot be through any process or through gradation which means the employment of time. Time can only produce time, not the timeless. Discipline is mere time and so it cannot lead to the Unknown, the Timeless. When conditioned by a discipline, the mind is insensitive to its problems. MADRAS 7TH GROUP DISCUSSION 4TH NOVEMBER, 1947 To recognise exactly, to become aware of 'what is' is terribly difficult for most of us. There can be understanding only when there is effortless awareness which happens to every one of us at moments of real thinking. Environment is the past in conflict, in modification, or in conjunction with the present. To understand the present, some psychologists have asserted that we must go to the past; but to understand the past, you must begin with the present and observe the same without condemnation. Understanding a problem undoes the problem directly and resolves it instantaneously without any postponement. For instance, if I feel that I am responsible for the marriage of my daughter, I can resolve that problem of marriage only when I understand all the implications in it. Understanding is a total responsibility of your entire being, a perception which comes to you of the entire picture and not of a part only. Understanding cannot come through 'Will'. Will involves desire to achieve a result. In this is implied a practice, a continuity - i.e. a continued exercise, practice or discipline - to strengthen your will to become something. It is an accumulated memory which says that I must discipline myself to achieve or gain something; and accumulated memory is the multiplication of desires. Understanding is spontaneous. The grandeur of a marvellous scene impinges on your mind, and there is an immediate response without any exertion of desire on your part to look at it and enjoy it. When a mind is used in compulsory attitudes and actions, it gets worn out at the end of few years; it is made dull. When the mind is dull, it is unwilling to look at 'what is' but wants to change itself into something else, thus bringing another element into the problem. We do not see things as they are either through fear of through a desire for security, or through expectation; because, if we see, we have to break them up; because immediate action implies danger to us, disturbs us and troubles us. When we are without love, we do not say "We are without love." - which is a fact and may perhaps lead us far when realised - but we say "We must be more kind" or "We must love," which is only a hope. When you feel sorrow you try to explain it away, to comfort yourself by going to the guru or by reading some scriptures. Similarly, joy comes to us unexpectedly; at the moment of joy we have done nothing; immediately when you have felt joy or when the joy is past, you wish to recapture it and it soon goes away. To recognise that you are without love, without sensitivity, demands extreme alertness. The recognition of 'what is' - i.e. to accept and see what you actually are - is in itself a transformation. MADRAS 8TH GROUP DISCUSSION 6TH NOVEMBER, 1947 Understanding comes with freedom. It is not the result of any desire or will or exertion or accumulated memory, practice or discipline. Therefore, it involves change of will altogether and not merely change in will. Thought which seeks security cannot be transformed by compulsion, and understanding comes voluntarily. There is chaos and moral degradation in the world, in society, in our Environment because, without understanding, we have directed our will and our activities in a certain direction, seeking, though without success, security in things made either by the hand or by the mind. The world - i.e. ourselves - being in chaos, our values are all broken up and destroyed. How is this chaos to be resolved? The present-day world's tendency is to bring about order, if possible, by reorganising the two values, property and division of peoples - i.e. ownership, capitalism, socialism, communism, nationality, religious divisions and caste distinctions between man and man -without reference to the deeper significance of life. We cling to these two values and give them disproportionate value because, for us, there is not a greater value. Throughout the world, these two values have created extraordinary misery; you are not aware that these have caused misery and conflict, because you are thinking of yourself as somebody else. You do not look at the intrinsic significance of these values, and yet attempt to reorganise them. Through greed, through fear, through desire for security, you create the society, the state which organises these two values. Property and the divisions between man and man are based on the desire to be secure. Therefore, the difficulty is not in the property but in the desire to be secure. We are thinking of security always and have been moving from one to another which is considered to give us greater security. Thus, the whole process of our thinking is based on security. You want security because you do not know what you are. You are not willing to face what you are. Fundamentally, you are uncertain, insecure; therefore, you seek security. Seeking security is an indication that you do not know what you are. If you see and know what you are, perhaps you can bring order. If you are confused, you will only act in a confused manner. MADRAS 9TH GROUP DISCUSSION 8TH NOVEMBER, 1947 Awareness is not of anything abstract or being aware of Reality, God or Truth; we must be aware of what we are doing, what we are thinking and feeling. Have you ever watched you mind? One thought precipitates on another before the original one is complete. All these thoughts relate either to the past memories or to the hopes of the future. The mind wanders, ceaselessly and restlessly, back to the past or forward to the future. In longing to find out what it is which we are thinking, we find that most of us are merely accepting, not thinking, and automatically responding according to our particular profession or reacting to a particular conditioning. The world problem is your problem. To understand the world, you must understand yourself. To transform the world, you must regenerate yourself. You cannot change yourself until there is self-knowledge. The mind finds it difficult to know itself because it is full of conclusions and suppositions and because it is disciplined; without understanding the ways of itself, the mind cannot proceed further. The mind has to be aware of its own activities and its own conditioning before it can be free, and understanding can come only when the mind is free. How can the mind which is restless and going swiftly backwards and forwards, be aware of its activities? Finding itself restless, the mind, without becoming aware of the causes of this restlessness, quickly directs itself along certain channels, chosen patterns, based on gratification; for a split second it remains so, but moves off again. The mind is very active and extraordinarily complex: there are the conscious layers and the innumerable unconscious layers. To understand any- thing, there must be observation. An object in swift movement can be watched only when the movement is slowed down. The problem therefore is how to slow down the movement of the mind. Without understanding the problem in all its implications, the mind jumps to meet the problem with ready-made answers like the following - Stopping the activity of the mind by force. Then, the mind is 'dead' and not living. Our observation of the 'dead' mind will not help us to understand the mind in movement. Disciplining, controlling the mind - then, all your energy is taken up with controlling or disciplining, and you do not understand the mind in movement. Discipline implies conformity, practice, habit, which deadens the mind. Inviting a higher entity or an outside interference -Paramatman, some entity beyond the mind - to come and study the mind. This does not work because it is still the product of the mind and therefore the result of the known. It is only a trick of the mind. Repetition of particular activities of the mind to enable the mind to watch and understand such activities. Repetition makes the mind automatic, thoughtless and therefore not alert but dull. This does not therefore lead to the understanding of the mind in movement. Various points of view - Each point of view is a preconceived path and is conditioned. The problem will then be translated in terms of that particular point of view only. Therefore, it does not lead to the understanding of the whole. When any one of the above methods of approach to this problem is taken up by the mind and pursued to its completion, it is found that it does not lead to the solution of the problem and that each such approach is false. Therefore, the method of approach is more important. Without understanding the problem, the mind rushed off with a prepared answer and, after following it through, realised that it was no answer to the problem. The mind must pursue each thought that arises in it, right through till it is complete - just like following up a stream along its course right up to its source; in that very process, the restless mind is slowed down, it becomes extraordinarily quiet and receptive, and understanding comes. For example, you are listening attentively to me when I describe something which is true because I have experienced it. While listening, your mind has slowed down and remained quiet and receptive. MADRAS 10TH GROUP DISCUSSION 10TH NOVEMBER, 1947 To bring about order in this confused world, there must be right thinking which will lead to right action. There can be right thinking only when we are aware of the process of our thinking, i.e. when we know what we are thinking, the way we are feeling, etc. We all know how our mind is constantly vagrant and restless and how it is difficult for it to complete any particular thought and follow it out fully, because another thought precipitates itself upon the one which we want to think out. The mind can be understood only when it is slowed down so that each thought, as it arises, can be followed out with care and deep understanding, without effort, without compulsion, without interference and with a sense of freedom; the mind has to dedicate itself to that understanding. When discussing this problem of slowing down the mind, one suggestion or response after another was made by the mind as to how the mind can be slowed down - i.e. (i) Stopping the mind; (ii) Controlling or disciplining the mind; (iii) Invoking a higher self or an entity beyond the mind; (iv) Repeating a thought to understand it; (v) Considering it each in his own way, ie from his own point of view. By analysing each one of these suggestions carefully step by step to its completion, we found these do not lead to the slowing down of the mind in movement, but to the dulling of the mind. In order to slow down the mind to understand it, the approach is not how to slow it down, but to become aware of its restlessness. We see that, in the very process of following carefully each suggestion or response up to its completion, the mind has already slowed down. The approach is therefore much more important than the problem. It must not be through a particular spoke, form a particular point of view, from a combination of a few points of view, or through any particular channel. Through a part, the whole cannot be understood; and organised society and organised religion are only parts. Understanding leads to right action. Being afraid to act, most of us say that, eventually, we shall find Truth. But, we will never see, if we do not see it now. If we do not love now, will we love tomorrow? MADRAS 11TH GROUP DISCUSSION 13TH NOVEMBER, 1947 Without self-knowledge, order and peace cannot be brought about within oneself and so outside, ie in the world. We considered some of the hindrances to that understanding. When we are up against a hindrance, we immediately think of ways and means to overcome or conquer that hindrance; but overcoming leads us nowhere as we shall have to keep on overcoming or conquering an enemy -politically, economically or religiously, because the hindrance repeats itself. You cannot overcome a hindrance; the hindrance has to be understood by approaching it without condemnation, without judging, without a desire to alter it. Unfortunately, most of us either condemn or pursue it. So long as there is this condemnatory and identifying attitude, the hindrance is not understood. We saw that the mind has to slow itself down if its restlessness and vagrancy are to be understood. The quietening of the mind was regarded as a problem outside; in following it out, we saw that, in becoming aware of the problem and following each of its responses completely, the mind had become quiet and alert, as the mind had to be quiet to think out each response fully. Thus, the problem is 'you' and not outside you. It is a trick of the mind to pose the problem as though it was taken from outside. Therefore, the approach is very important. To understand Truth, the mind has first to free itself from the framework of organised society or religion. Most of us agree to this verbally; but, we do not abandon such framework because of the fear that, by freeing ourselves, we are going to create extraordinary disturbances in our daily life. Understanding leads to right action and to an urge to speak of that understanding. A truth, probably heard by you, ceases to be a truth when you merely repeat it; it will be a truth to you only when you, for yourself, have discovered it to be true. Propaganda is mere repetition of another's truth; it ceases to be propaganda when you yourself have discovered the truth. As fear is one of the chief impediments to right action it has to be understood. In trying to understand fear - whether physical or psychological - we shall be making a wrong approach if we discuss fear as a problem outside us. Physical fear: - Physical body is alert and the instinct of self-preservation makes the body act even without any conscious effort of the person who experiences fear - e.g., nearness to a snake. Psychological fears: - Fear of losing (i) things, (ii) relationship, i.e., people connected to us and (iii) ideas - i.e., beliefs etc. At the moment of fear, the person who experiences fear and the quality of fear are one, i.e. a joint phenomenon. Immediately afterwards, there is a separation and you say that you do not like it and that you must do something about it. The moment of fear is unexpected and you meet it unprepared; and at that moment, there is only a state which contains no quality, a state of most heightened sensitivity. As it is physically impossible to continue in that state without collapse or without getting mad, the instinct of self-protection leads to the separation of the thinker and the quality; if pleasant, the thinker identifies himself with it; if unpleasant the thinker condemns the quality and sets about to do something about it. In the case of fear, the thinker wants to get rid of it by developing courage, going to a temple, or guru, etc, etc, thus developing a whole philosophy; yet, the fear continues to lurk inside all the time. Therefore, the correct approach to the problem is not how to get rid of fear but to realise that there will be fear as long as we are protecting ourselves with property, relationship, name, ideas, beliefs, etc. If we let go any of these, we are nothing; therefore, we are the property, the idea, etc. Thus, frightened of being nothing, we hold on to property, etc, and thereby create a lot of misery in the world. If we tackle our desire for self-protection, then, there will be a transformation, and property etc. will have altogether a different significance. MADRAS 12TH GROUP DISCUSSION 15TH NOVEMBER, 1947 Life is a continuous challenge and response. Whenever there is a challenge there is a direct response which almost immediately becomes a conditioned response which almost immediately becomes a conditioned response - fear, love, jealousy or something else. At the moment of direct response which is unconditioned, there is only an unprepared state of heightened sensitivity, a state of extreme and intense alertness, without any qualification whatsoever; in that state, there is no dissociation between the person who experiences and the quality which is experienced. As it is extremely difficult to live for any length of time in that state of heightened sensitivity, the conditioned mind which is seeking self-protection, gives it a qualification according to whether pleasure or pain is apprehended; and instantaneously there is a separation of the experiencer from the quality. This leads to a conditioned response. For instance, when pain is apprehended, the mind gives that state the qualification of fear and, instantaneously, the person who is in a state of fear has separated himself from the quality of fear. Then the person makes a conditioned response to the challenge made by the quality, fear - the conditioned response being "how to overcome fear" or " how to run away from fear." The conditioned mind can never be free of fear by "overcoming it" by compulsion or discipline, because any such overcoming will necessarily repeat itself. Nor can the mind be free by running away from fear. If we examine closely, we shall see how our whole education, culture, and philosophy are based on running away from conditioned responses like fear. Every attempt to run away from fear fails and the mind is continually engaged in going from one escape to another - only to find ultimately that every such attempt is futile. When pleasure is apprehended, the experiencer identifies himself with the quality of joy, etc, and goaded by the memory of what he experienced, seeks to have a similar experience again. Another experience of a similar nature only strengthens the memory and therefore strengthens the desire for the experience again. Then, with a view to having absolute security, the conditioned mind projects the idea of God and seeks God. A conditioned mind can only think of the known and not of the unknown. Therefore, the conditioned mind can never find Reality, God. We are now trying to understand fear. We know how fear distorts and makes the mind small and also poisons the system. The little-minded people are afraid and they cannot understand the supreme. We have seen how futile is the attempt made by the mind either to overcome fear or to run away from fear. We have also seen how fear is primarily based on the mind' desire for self-protection. Naturally, our problem of fear has not been solved so far because we gave importance to and pursued fear which is only a secondary value, instead of giving importance to and pursuing 'the desire for self-protection' which is the primary value. We are in confusion because we give importance to the symptom and not to the cause, to the secondary values and not to the primary. As fear is a conditioned response, our concern should be not to condemn it or to justify it but to be aware of it as and when it arises and not run away from it. When we are thus aware of fear and of the process of 'the desire for self-protection', fear ceases and the mind is free of fear. In understanding fear, one opens the door to the extraordinary meaning of Death which is the Unknown as God is the Unknown. If we do not understand death, we cannot love. MADRAS 13TH GROUP DISCUSSION 18TH NOVEMBER, 1947 Before we continue the discussion about fear, death and love, we should discuss quite an important subject - the art of listening. Life is really both a challenge and a response, and if we do not know how to respond truly, there will be misery. Similarly, if we do not know how to listen, our mind is so filled with our own thoughts, our own problems, our own conclusions and our own questions, that it is almost impossible to listen to somebody. Is it not possible to listen with an extraordinary alertness, but not with an effort? After all, understanding comes, not through effort but spontaneously when there is an effortless relaxation, a sense of communication with each other. When you love somebody very deeply and really, in that state of real affection, there is a sense of full communication. We do not have to make an effort or to exert ourselves. I think it is important during these discussions to listen with ease but yet with a tension because most of us, when we are at ease, are generally lazy, so relaxed that nothing can penetrate. But, there is a right tension, a psychological tension, not a tension to the breaking point; but, as the string of a violin, it must be tuned just right. Similarly, it is possible for us to listen in such a way that communication is possible instantaneously, at the same time and the same level. In understanding fear we found that the desire to protect oneself projects the quality of fear, and that merely dealing with the symptom and not with the the cause is utterly futile. So, the question of overcoming fear never arises to a thoughtful person, as it is only dealing with symptoms and not with the maker of symptoms. A conditioned response is like a wave in a lake when a stone is thrown, and we pursue and try to solve that wave which is a conditioned response. We came to the point of studying what Death means. We said that as reality is unknown, so Death is also unknown. We have spent centuries in studying Reality, but we have hardly spent five minutes in studying Death. We have avoided Death as something abominable, something of which we are frightened and we have tried to overcome it by beliefs and ideations of morality. But we have never understood the significance of Death. Response and challenge are not different things. They are only separate when the response is conditioned. Our response to a challenge is according to our environmental influence - Brahmin, Non-Brahmin, writer, poet, etc. There is always the distance of time between challenge and response; and when such responses cease, there is death. Let us experiment and be aware of the significance of death on all the different planes of consciousness. We have seen the effects of death on a body, to a bird, to a leaf, wearing out of the physical organism. But that is not death, that is only a part of awareness of death. In life, everything seems to end in death; all our activities, our civilization, wars, conflict with each other, our physical existence, emotional responses, ideation and thoughts, all come to an end. Seeing that all that is known to it comes to an end, the mind apprehends itself coming to an end and, as it does not like to die, seeks permanency by anchoring itself to something unknown which it considers to be secure; if it is not anchored to something which it knows to be secure, it ceases to function. Thought is the result of the past, the known, the accumulation of what it has read, what it has been told, social environment, religious background, and what it has been conditioned to. As long as the mind is the known, it translates the unknown or any new experience that comes, in the light of the known. When we meet a stranger, we view him with all our prejudices and conditioned responses. In the unknown, there is no security because we do not know it at all. Therefore the mind is afraid of the unknown; therefore it must project itself into the unknown and seek security there. So it must have a belief in the unknown, in Reincarnation, in God, or in an idea, and so on especially as the mind is afraid of coming to an end. Therefore our thoughts are always proceeding from the known to the known, from memory to memory. A memory is the residue, left in the mind, of an experience. The moment the mind is uncertain, it becomes anxious, and therefore it must have the known all the time. If the mind is moving from the known, to the known, it cannot possibly know the unknown; and therefore we are unaware of the significance of Death. We are afraid even to talk about it, and so we put it away and think about God. We deny Death and hold on to God though we do not know what God is. Beauty is not the denial of the ugly. We cannot understand the pleasant by denying the unpleasant. We do not know what the ugly and the unpleasant mean, yet we have condemned them. We do not know what God is, yet we accept God. Suicide is a part of death. A person who is committing suicide puts an end to his life when he is faced with a problem which he cannot solve, when his thoughts and feelings have come to a point when they cannot see into the future and cannot proceed further. When one is happy he has no problem and he does not wish to end that. You ask whether hate is not a manifestation of death. Hate is a conditioned response, Death is also a conditioned response to something which we do not know. Hate does not exist by itself. Our mind is ever seeking continuance through various means. To us, God is the ultimate continuance and Death the ultimate denial of continuance. Because thought is the result of the past, it can only think in terms of time, today, yesterday and tomorrow, in terms of the known; and the known it wants to continue. If that continuance is denied, it will commit suicide. It is only concerned with moving from the known to the known. When it proceeds to God, it is only projecting itself into the unknown and seeking security there in God; therefore, that projection, God, is still the known through the mind has invested in God as the ultimate guarantee of its continuance. As long as the mind is moving from the known to the known, it is 'dead', and a 'dead' thing cannot understand anything. When the mind realises that it is 'dead', there will be life. We can discover something amazing when we realise that we are 'dead' and are alive only verbally. MADRAS 14TH GROUP DISCUSSION 20TH NOVEMBER, 1947 These discussions are a process of self-exploration and self-examination, and not self-introspection which is quite different from awareness. It is as though we are watching a mirror in from to us, which is not distorting our thoughts and our feelings and actions, but is showing exactly 'what is' and not what we would like them to be. When we discussed about fear we found that fear was only secondary but what was really significant was self-protection in all its extraordinary and subtle ways on different levels and different sates of consciousness, which gave rise to fear. In understanding the process of self-protection which is primary, fear which is secondary, loses its significance. In discussing death, we found that, realising that everything comes to an end - relationship, things and ideas, not only physiological but psychological also - we are afraid of death, we are desirous of proceeding from the known to the known, to give us continuity, and this continuity we call immortality. When that continuity comes to an end, we call that death. We do not know Death just as we do not know Reality. We have divided life into living and death and we have shunned death and clung onto what appeared to give us security. I think it is important that we should understand the whole question of death because, in that, there is renewal. That which ends has always a beginning. That which continues without an end has no renewal. As thought moves from the known to the known, there is no ending of thought; therefore, there is no renewal; and it is only in death there is renewal. A society can be renewed only when it throws off the old. But you cannot have the old and the new together and that leads to destruction. It is one of the tricks of the mind that, being confronted with uncertainty, it seeks security elsewhere in property, family, ideas and beliefs and so on. As one cannot think of the unknown, one can only think of the known, the outcome of the thought which is the result of the past. Thought abominates coming to an end, that is, to be uncertain of anything, and it wants continuance. Ordinarily, in the physical sense, we desire to continue through property, through our job and through our routine. Psychologically, we continue through our memory. All our systems are based on continuity. We seek continuity in property, name, and identifying ourselves with something. When we find that there is no continuity or permanency in objects we turn to psychological factors, such as beliefs and ideas and so on. The thought, being afraid of discontinuity, thinks in terms of the continuity of the soul. Continuity implied through a belief or through the soul is the product of thought and therefore it is the result of the known, because thought can only think of something which it knows. So thought is really concerned with continuity and not with Truth or God. Continuity is a time-process and there cannot be a renewal in the time-process. Memory is the residue left in the mind of insufficient experience; and when an experience is complete there is no memory. Some say that the mind is the instrument of the spirit. But the spirit is also the process of the mind. The moment we say there is spirit, it is a process of thought. There is perception, sensation, contact, desire and identification, all processes of challenge and response. In other words, we have exercised thought which is the product of the mind. Even while we are sleeping, the unconscious is working, which gives hints to thoughts. When we are thinking about something beyond, it is also the process of the mind and therefore it is unreal. To say that God is 'me' is incorrect as God or Truth cannot exist in contradiction, because we are in ourselves having the evil and the good, which is a contradictory state. Complete paralysis is death and incomplete paralysis is life. We come across several people who are both physiologically and psychologically half dead, yet they function. If God is in us, we need not purify ourselves or renew ourselves. Every experience is leaving a residue and we call it memory. When we meet an experience anew, it will not leave any residue; that occurs when we meet the experience direct without a screen. When new wine is put in the old bottle it breaks. When we are thinking about death, we are not looking at facts, but are translating it to suit our conditioning. Because we are not looking direct at facts but through a screen or a condition or a belief, we are not finding the truth of it. When we do that, we are only strengthening our conditioning and the walls of our conditioning are growing thicker and thicker. As memory is of the known, when we are facing the unknown, we withdraw and translate it in terms of the known. We think we can thereby have continuance. We cannot understand either Death or Reality through memory. There is no renewal through continuance. Because we are caught up in the walls of memory, whether the memory is of the leftist or the rightist, religious or the non-religious, we are dead. Only when the walls break there is going to be renewal. A society that is merely transforming itself within the walls, cannot produce culture. In order to bring about a renewal we must die; and that means we must start anew, putting away completely all memories of the past. MADRAS 15TH GROUP DISCUSSION 22ND NOVEMBER, 1947 We have been discussing the question of death and fear and we said that any form of continuity is death because continuity implies a constant movement of thought in the fortress of the known. Thought is always moving from the known to the known, from memory to memory, from continuity to continuity, and it cannot think of the unknown. It can verbally picture the unknown or speculate on it, but that picture is not the unknown. Because the mind is moving in the field of the known, it gives continuity to it through the family, through property, through responsibility, through the machine of routine, through ideation and through belief. Memory is merely the residue of experience. We experience through the screen of the past and therefore there is no experience at all but only a modification of experience. If we have a certain belief, that belief not only creates that experience, but also translates that experience according to its conditioning. So there is never an experience which is free from conditioning. When the continuity through the family, through the name, through relationship, etc. is threatened, there is fear; and the ultimate threat to continuity is death. There is no renewal or rebirth in that state; a renewal can only be effected in ending. Meditation is thought freeing itself from continuity and then there is renewal, creation and reality. Our whole structure of thinking is based on the desire for continuity. In understanding continuity we can understand the significance of rebirth or renewal. Our process of thought is based on time - yesterday, today and tomorrow. Yesterday coming in contact with today creates the present. Yesterday's memory continuing today in a modified or transformed manner is the present. The present thought has its root in the past and so thought is continuity. The thinking process of a process of time and therefore a process of memory. Since we do not understand the process of our thinking, which is the result of time, merely to deny continuity is completely useless. If we want to understand the truth of continuity, we must watch it, go with it, every moment of the day. We are not concerned with physical continuity. What we are primarily concerned about is whether through things there is psychological continuity; that is, we are not concerned with the continuity of matter, but are concerned with the value we give to matter. We have seen that on one of the causes of the havoc and destruction in this world is our extraordinary adherence to property. We need a certain amount of food, clothing and shelter. But, the moment we bring psychological value into it, it creates chaos. The moment we use our position or property as a means of psychological continuity, there is chaos. When we feel pain we take immediate action to arrest it. We do not seem to take such psychological action with regard to property, which means we are not aware of what we are doing. Our desire for continuity has brought us to death; it has made us insensitive and inactive. Psychologically we have given ourselves over to property and so we are dead, because things are dead. So, we have discovered the truth that the moment we have continuity through property, we are dead. The same is the case with regard to relationship. When we seek continuity through the family, we give importance to continuity and not to the family, and thus we are creating the nation, the group, etc, which leads to disaster, or to death. Similarly, ideas are also a form of continuity. We believe that we live even after our death. It is a belief through which we find continuity in some other quarter and at a different level. We cling to our God, our Truth, our Path and so on. So, the different kinds of organised beliefs have led us to division between ourselves, the Hindu, the Christian, and the Muslim and so on. There is only unity through intelligence and love. It is only when we recognise we are dead that there can be life. If we recognise we are blind, we would be careful and would not make any dogmatic assertion about anything. What happens if one of your nearest relatives passes away? It is a great shock and a paralysis to the mind because you have invested your affection in him and he has come to an end, and suddenly you find that there is a psychological and physical breakage. You suddenly realise that you are alone. As you do not like the loneliness, there is sorrow, not exactly because your relative is dead, but because you have discovered your loneliness which you do not like. That is, as you do not like what you are, you seek continuity through property, relationship and ideas - which has led you to utter chaos and misery. We cannot proceed any further without the recognition of that. If we recognise that we are dead, there will be a revolution in our daily life. There will no longer be the psychological attachment to name, to family and to position. There will be a revolution with regard to our beliefs, which implies the cessation of beliefs. We have seen and heard about several revolutions which have all brought about misery. But a revolution which is completely different from the revolution of theory, is a revolution of values, a revolution of thought, which can only come about by the recognition of 'what is'. There is a revolution in thought when I know I am blind. My whole action will be different; Then I will be very tentative, very watchful; I do not accept, but listen, I move very slowly, my whole being is revolutionised. If I do not recognise that I am blind, my actions will be quite different. If we refuse to recognise what is, we cannot find what truth is, because truth may be in that which is and not away from it. MADRAS 16TH GROUP DISCUSSION 25TH NOVEMBER, 1947 Before we proceed with our discussion about continuity and death, I think we ought to consider for a few minutes the art of listening. In order to understand, you should listen without any apprehension, without any fear of loss or fear of pain. Because you are suffocated with so many erroneous ideas and beliefs, there is no immediate communication with one another. Communication is possible not when there is fear but only when there is love. We ought to consider very deeply the attitude of teaching and learning. Is there such a thing as teaching and learning? Do you learn anything? You may learn a technique, how to play the piano, or construct a motor, or how to drive. Our whole attitude towards life is the question of something we are going to learn, or something we are teaching. Communion with each other stops when there is this attitude of learning or teaching. There is beauty in real communion, which can only come with love. When there is, on the part of one, the attitude of learning, and, on the part of the other, the attitude of teaching, communion really ceases; and without communion, without partaking, without sharing, and without being together in good company, clear thinking is almost impossible. During these few weeks of discussion have you learned anything? If you caught a few phrases or a few sentences from me, that is not learning. I was not teaching, but we were travelling together in deep communion, and therefore there was an understanding simultaneously, at the same time and at the same place. A man who is merely teaching is not living any more than a man who is merely listening. If we can alter fundamentally that attitude of learning and teaching, we can enter into communion with each other. It is a mistake to go to somebody to learn. If you are enthusiastic and eager, then you will be able to share the wisdom, the song, or the truth with another. When a child is learning music, the teacher instructs him how to put his fingers and so on. But if he is really interested, he would be pestering the teacher with so many questions about music; then the relationship between the teacher and the pupil is immediately changed. We are used to being told or being directed; as such, I become the teacher, and you become the learner, which is really absurd. After all we all human beings, not divided into the teacher and the pupil and all the other absurdities. We are here to find out what is reality, what is love, and not for me to tell you, and for you to follow. Now, if we can establish proper relationship, there would be a real affection and therefore a quick response. In discussing continuity, we have found out that we seek continuity through name, property, etc. and that genetic continuance and physiological continuance have become extraordinarily important, as long as psychological continuance is maintained. This psychological continuance is doing great havoc in this world, as can be seen from history and from what is happening nowadays. Certain political systems have limited physical continuity. for instance, the father can no longer leave as before property for his son to inherit. But there is the emotional continuity, the ideological continuity which ultimately beings about agony and misery. Continuity is memory. All our life is a challenge and a response. There is the response to a condition and that condition is modified or altered according to circumstances, but it is always conditioned; and any experience which comes along is met through a screen of conditioned response. The conditioned response is memory. We experience and we translate our experience according to our belief. Therefore, that experience is not fully completed. It is always broken down to constitute a particular condition and therefore, there is never a complete action. So, we, from day to day, carry yesterday to today and today to tomorrow and there is always the conditional burden of memory, not factual memory but psychological memory. The older we are, the heavier it becomes. This continuity is really decay, and the older we are the more we are decayed, the more mentally sterile we are. I do not know if you have noticed that an experience that is followed through completely, leaves no residue. Accumulated memory is static. It has no life unless we inject new life into it, ie, by our recalling the memory, we revive it. By this static memory which is dead we translate life which is a living thing. We believe in God, not knowing what God is. We cannot have an idea of something which we do not know. We know Him by reading books written by somebody else. Reality can never be described. A man who loves, may tell us what love is; but can we know love in that way? We can imagine about it. In the very telling of what God or Love is, we have put that into a small vessel, in our own vessels; and it is not Truth. The very description of Reality by a person who has experienced Reality, is a denial of truth. If we put Reality into words, it ceases to be the Real. We think about God as a form of security, as a form of gratification or comfort. In other words, we are not really seeking God, but comfort through God. We seek happiness through things, property, relationship, etc. and, therefore, they become important. We do not know God and if we say that we are living in God, it is a form of traditional assertion. Viewing it realistically, we can see that we love our family because it gives us joy; we love that which gives us pleasure, that which brings us a reward. As long as we are mutually agreeable, we love each other. It means that if we eliminate this pleasure or pain, there is nothing left, and so there is no love. We only know pleasure and pain and we do not know what love is. Therefore, to understand what love is, we must be free from pleasure and pain. We do not know what God is, what Death is, and what Love is. These are the three amazing principles in life, of which we do not know, though we talk about them. So, the wise man says that he would not talk of them any more. How can we find out what Love is? There are certain extraordinary moments in our life when we do love, i.e. when there is no pleasure or pain, when there is no relationship in love. These are very rare and extraordinarily beautiful moments. Anything built on memory has no value; and as most of our relationship is built on memory, it has no significance. Therefore, how can our minds which are caught in the net of pain and pleasure be freed? Any action, inside the net, to get out of it, is still based on pleasure and pain. We have woven a net and brought everything into it. What is our response to this fact? We are looking at it through a screen and therefore we are not directly faced with it. The moment we face and recognise the fact without a screen, there is Truth. Since we are unwilling to face the fact we are hypocrites. So to get out of the net, we have, first of all, to be aware of the fact that we are hypocrites. The implications of this are tremendous. Love and hypocrisy can never go together. The very recognition of the fact that we are hypocrites or exploiters will bring about an instantaneous change in our actions. MADRAS 17TH GROUP DISCUSSION 27TH NOVEMBER, 1947 We have met in this group not for learning as in a classroom but to discuss with each other; and, in exchanging our thoughts, we begin to discover our own process of thinking. This is a self-revealing process, not of some metaphysical higher or superior self, but of the self which is working through you and me. Without self-knowledge which is being aware of our own actions and our own feelings, there can be no right thinking at all. Self-knowledge as distinct from factual knowledge or the knowledge of a technique, is not a matter of learning from another; it can come about only through awareness. No understanding or comprehension can come when our relationship is that of the teacher and the taught, a Master and a Disciple, or a Guru and a 'Sishya'. Learning is not understanding; it is really destructive, whereas understanding is creative. Understanding comes only through communion, which is possible only when there is deep love. These discussions are meant to establish that extraordinary depth of understanding in which right relationship with another can be established. We have discussed various subjects, the various hindrances to clarity of thought, also other things like "fear", "death" and "love". Our whole social, economic and psychological structure is based on the desire for profit and gain, on pleasure and pain; that which is pleasurable we accept and that which is not pleasurable we reject. Our relationship has also a similar basis. I like you as long as you like me; and if you do not like me, I find someone else. Our so-called friendship is really mutual gratification. Our emotional structure is based on this. You love Reality as long as it is pleasurable or profitable to you; when it is painful, you reject it and go to a guru or somebody else; and thus you go on seeking gratification. As long as the mind is seeking pleasure and avoiding pain, there cannot be love. We misuse the word love when we call this love. We do not really know what love means. Since we do not know what it is to think rightly, deeply and profoundly, our solutions, political or religious, are in no way going to produce a sane and balanced world. After all, the world is you and I; and it is no good trying to love each other when we do not know how to love. It is no good discussing theoretically what love is. We can only start with what we know, i.e., by examining and becoming aware of "what is." What we call love is really based on the desire to please and to avoid pain. Actually, all our relationship is based on pleasure and gratification. Our desire for gratification pulls us along and pushes us also along into a mass of beliefs. From that relationship, we talk of having a duty, a responsibility, etc, which are all words having no significance, because they are merely based on gratification. Some of you say that love gives you a sense of unity with another. Do you feel unity with the object you do not like? Obviously not. We give ourselves over to beauty and deny ugliness. That is, by the denial of vice, we become virtuous. We deny the non-pleasurable and hold on to the pleasurable. This self-immolation is an identification with what we call the beautiful, that which is intensely gratifying. We call that devotional love. Has that love any perfume or is it merely gratification? You would not seek God if you do not want security, an ultimate permanency. In yourself you are insecure, the world around you is catastrophic, and you want an assurance of continuity; and, therefore, you want to identify yourself with what you call God. Therefore, you are not seeking God but only gratification. Gratification through God is just like gratification through drink though the one is a refined ideation, and the other a gross desire. Similar is the man who identifies himself with an ideal like beauty and pursues it. As any ideal is only a creation of the mind, that too is impermanent, and that exists only as long as you find gratification in it and accept it. Thus, due to our inward poverty, we seek only gratification through things, relationship, and ideation such as God, ideal, etc; we do not seek God or an ideal as we drop them the moment we do not find pleasure in them. There are however certain rare moments when the state of non-relationship exists in contra-distinction to relationship which exists only on the basis of pleasure and pain. But in that sense of complete self-immolation, there is no asking; in that state of non-relationship with another, when you love somebody, there is that quality of non-demand. At those moments, you are left silent; later on, further reactions come. It happens to someone, one in a million, and he is a happy man. Once he knows what it is, it is like a scent that is perfuming his whole life. Why are we not awake to such moments much more often? Why do we not realise that our pursuit of drunkenness, God or an ideal is only the pursuit of our escape from facing the actual, and therefore reduces us to a state of dullness and insensitivity? It is because of various hindrances like conclusions, beliefs, trying to avoid death, worship of God and non-existence of affection. By being aware of these hindrances, they can be dissolved. Is memory, psychological and not factual, a hindrance to understanding? Let us think this out. What is memory? Let us begin with ourselves and enquire into it without involving ourselves in explanations. Going back and looking into the past pleasures and pains, or going to the future with its hopes and ambitions, are forms of memory. Why does the mind go backwards and forwards like this? In our attempt to understand the problem of memory, we have now found that mind which is itself a result of the past and is the current of the past, the present and the future, has separated itself in the present from the current, as though it is a separate entity; it looks on itself as the thinker, the feeler, the perceiver, goes back to the past and says "I remember". It also conceives of the future, thus giving rise to three entities - the thinker, the past, and the future - as through they are different from one another. The problem now is "Can the mind separate itself from the past?" The thinker cannot go back to the past unless he is the product of the past; therefore, he and the past are one and not separate. So, when I say "I remember", I am making a false statement. Memory is ever continuing from the past, in the present, and into the future. The past includes my parents, my forefathers and also mankind with all their accumulations, traditions, superstitions, fears and conditions - social, economic, racial, religious, etc. Thus when we enquire what memory is, we should know who the enquirer is. The enquirer is the mind which has separated itself from itself which is the past; and this division is a false action, because any product of the mind must, like the mind itself, be also a product of the past. The observer and the observed are the same; therefore, the observer is making a false statement when it says "I am looking at the stream and going back to the past". We now see the absurdity of the whole process - the observer, though the same as the observed, imagines himself to be separate from, and superior to it, and attempts to examine the observed through memory; finally, he realises that he is not separate from the observed and the separation was false. In seeing the false as false, Truth is perceived. MADRAS 18TH GROUP DISCUSSION 29TH NOVEMBER, 1947 The desire to listen and the action of listening are two quite different states. Most of us are concerned with the desire to learn, to teach, or to acquire something; and in this, effort is involved. If you are interested in what is said, you listen without any effort, and there is communion. So let us listen as though we are really enjoying it, not merely putting up a resistance, or trying to contradict or trying to put your own ideas quicker than somebody else can. We are dealing with memory, an extraordinary and subtle subject. The majority of us have not thought about this; therefore it requires an extraordinarily attentive mind to follow the current, the movement, the swiftness of it, because each of us is projecting his interpretation of what he considers memory to be. We have to understand the function of memory, either as a means to action, or as a means to understanding. I would suggest that you listen carefully and quietly rather than try to listen or concentrate on listening. To me authority is binding and blinding. Where there is authority, you do not listen in the same manner as to someone who is talking with you in a friendly manner, and there is little communication. Therefore, do not look on me as an authority, but listen with affectionate and thoughtful attention. We saw that memory is continuity., The self, i.e., the 'I' or the 'me' is a bundle of memories or of qualities or tendencies accumulated through memory, the residual experience of the mind which is the desire, which is the 'me' moving in this continuity. This stream of continuity which we call memory, is a time-process, the time-process being the past, the present and the future. The mind shuttles back and forward in this continuity, and it is not aware that it is still a part of the continuity, when it separates itself from the stream of continuity, and says 'I remember', 'I recollect', 'I hope', which is future action. When the mind says 'I remember', it considers itself to be separate from "continuity" and looks to the past or to the future, which are the same as 'continuity'. We have to understand why the mind, which is the thinker, the observer, the experiencer, the same as the current of continuity, has separated itself from this constant stream of continuity. The mind is not merely the superficial layer of consciousness but also the unconscious with its many, many layers which is all 'memory'. The understanding of 'memory' is directly related to the understanding of 'Love', "Death', 'Reality'. Why does the mind separate itself from the stream of continuity and say 'I remember'? The 'I' is non-existent if its qualities are removed. The 'I' is non-existent without memory, its tendencies, gifts and so on, i.e. non-existent without continuity, the racial, the traditional, the past in conjunction with the now, the past flowing through the present to the future which is hope. If we cannot understand that, we cannot bring about a regeneration, a renewal, an ending. We discussed that what is continuous, the physiological as well as the psychological continuity, is binding, and that there is renewal only in death and not in continuity. There can be death as a renewal only when the whole consciousness is completely empty. For this to happen, every action that you meet should leave no residue, and you should meet anew every experience as it comes. The whole of our existence is a form of continuity and our whole tendencies are to generate one habit or another. The routine is a habit and habit is a form of continuity. Therefore, we have to discuss the action of memory on all our activities. Technique is learning so as to be able to act in a particular manner without conscious effort. For instance, when you learn the violin, you learn the technique and the words of the song; but you do not learn the joy in the song, i.e. in learning how to play, you do not learn music. Similarly, when I am learning engineering, I am learning facts. to be a creative engineer is different from the technique of engineering. Do you write a poem because you know the technique of writing it? We know factual memory, i.e. dealing with facts, talents, expression of talents and so on. We translate them psychologically to suit ourselves whenever we make a response to any challenge we meet. It is a fact that our society has recognised caste divisions and has viewed its citizens as belonging to a particular category and that your responses are therefore trained to the category to which you belong. Your whole attitude towards life is based on the division that you are this label. Though you are a human being like the rest, you function or respond only according to that label. You are thus conditioned by tradition to a series of memories that have been handed down by tradition. What is implied in thinking a thought through? Here is a thought that we are aware of, that we have only factual memory of and nothing else. When I understand that as a false statement with all its implications, I am free from that false statement and therefore I see the truth. The factual is the screen, is the 'me' in action with the residual, the unconscious 'me', which is hidden; therefore, there is always a conflict between the hidden and the factual. We are aware of the factual, the factual being the immediate, whether the immediate is two to three days, or two to three years. The conscious mind which is of the superficial layers of consciousness, is aware of the factual, because it is the product of facts learned at school or taught, the immediate response or immediate knowledge through books, through assertion, through techniques and so on. That is, the superficial layers of consciousness are factual memories. Through these layers everything is being translated and accumulated. That accumulation and the unconscious, the hidden as well as the superficial layers, are the whole of 'me'. The hidden layers are all residues of all humanity, as you are not one isolate human entity but the result of the whole of humanity. You are only conscious in the superficial layers, i.e., only, factually; and these conscious layers are always translating and therefore misrepresenting, misinterpreting experiences that are being met, and are strengthening the unconscious by adding to it more and more. As long as I have the screen of facts through which I translate every experience, the residue is falling below. If I have no screen then it will be quite different. The problem is that I am only aware of factual memories and I am not aware of psychological memories. I am aware of facts, techniques and actions as memory. I have learned how to play and I translate every song through my technique. I have learned how to write and I am translating the untranslatable. Therefore, as long as I have a technique, the vision of a poem is always limited. As long as I have a technique, which is factual memory, I cannot find that which has no technique. As long as my brain is made up of facts, techniques, discipline, everyday routine, it cannot find the immeasurable. After all when I write a poem, it is to think of the immeasurable. After writing it I think I am dissatisfied with it because I feel I have not captured the spirit; and in that very process I get lost; thus the process becomes much more important than the problem. With this mentality of the awareness of the factual, i.e., through the screen of the conscious, we are trying to understand that which is not factual, that which we call Love, God, Death, the Unknown. Consciousness comes into being when there is friction, when I meet a response, when there is disharmony. Consciousness begins when there is interruption. When I am awake and look at the trees there is no friction, there is no response. I am only watching the tree. The pursuit of pleasure and avoidance of pain is consciousness. I am conscious when I want or do not want something. Previous to want and non-want, am I conscious? Are you conscious when there is no want and do you know that state? When I wake up, somebody comes and smiles and I like it. It is friction. The fact is that I become conscious when there is struggle, either pleasurable or painful. There may be various degree of consciousness, friction, pleasurable or painful, and all the subtle variations of that friction. All that makes me conscious and from that I say existence is pleasurable or painful. As long as there is effort there is self-consciousness, and yet you say I must make effort to free myself from greed. If effort is self-consciousness, then our whole process is effort; and therefore, we are merely strengthening the consciousness of the self. We are building walls and walls and how can such a consciousness free itself from effort? What is memory? Why has the mind separated itself from the current of time? How do I set about trying to find the truth myself? I must study the problem. I must not take sides about the problem. I must free myself from all prejudices. I must not be biased, for or against the problem. That means I must free thought from my bias about the problem, and I must come to it anew. If memory is static or dynamic, the result must also be static or dynamic as the case may be. Memory by itself is static; it is dead, and is given life when I recollect it either as pain or pleasure. Who is the entity that recalls it? That entity is the result of memory. This has to be pursued and understood. MADRAS 19TH GROUP DISCUSSION 2ND DECEMBER, 1947 It seems to me that, without self-knowledge, there will be no right thinking. I mean by self-knowledge, not the mysterious, the hidden, the super-self, the higher self, the Atman or anything of that kind; I mean the self that thinks, feels and acts now, here, in our everyday existence. Without understanding the thoughts, the feelings, the actions that we go through every day almost automatically, without seeing their deep significance, there can be no right thinking. That is the self-knowledge I am talking about. You must begin very near to go very far. It is no good beginning very far for coming near. Paramatman, the super-atman and all the rest of it are mere assumption based on belief and therefore utterly valueless to a really thoughtful man. In discovering the process of our own thinking we shall find out - not through an authority, not through books, but for each one of us -whether there is such a thing as Reality or not. This idea that there is a super-self, is still part of thought and is therefore conditioned; therefore, the super-self cannot be superior to mind. Wisdom is not found in books, nor in repetition, nor in rituals. Wisdom is found through right thinking and right thinking cannot possibly exist without self-knowledge. I wish to talk to you today about "belief", a thing which is very near and in which most of us are caught. You may say that we have gone over that subject ten different times. Mind is constantly wrapping itself in belief, belief in ideation, belief in memory, etc. Essentially we believe in order to be secure, not to get lost in the wood, to have a lighthouse, to have a point towards which thought is culminating, progressing, focussing. This focal point helps us to guide ourselves. A belief, whether physiological or psychological, is a necessity to him who is frightened. 'It is my experience and therefore I hold on to it as a guide, a conviction which helps me to progress in life.' Surely belief, a conclusion, a working hypothesis, a conviction, an experience which I hold on to as a guide, an ideal, a conviction which helps me to progress in life, are all merely a pattern, a mould in which the thought functions. The ideal, the belief, is in the future, something projected or accepted by you as a pattern for you to be modified; and therefore it is in the net of time and therefore that does not lead you to the eternal, to happiness. The end is of the same nature as the means; if you use wrong means, you create wrong ends. Are we aware of the fact that we have belief? Beauty is considered to be an ideal, a distant thing. The man who does not see the beauty around him keeps the ideal of beauty, and he has no beauty in him. There is beauty now, in the face that smiles, in the stars, in the leaves, and so on. Because we do not see that beauty, we have recourse to the ideal of beauty. Some of you say that life would be impossible if we do not believe - for example, in the existence of London. But several things are involved in this. That is the question of verification. You can ask ten different people and they will tell you where London is; you can also go and see. That is verification. But you all believe in reincarnation or in something else of that kind, which is incapable of verification. A million people tell me that they believe there is God or there is a Master. Does their belief prove to me that there is God? Any belief that I hold, projects itself as an experience; and then I say it is true because I have experienced it. I believe in reincarnation because it gives me a future chance, a psychological hope; I project that hope, and experience it as an actual experience. How often you have heard people say "I know it, it has happened" as though there is no more to be said! You can only verify when you do not believe. I do not care whether the Master exists or does not exist, because I want to find out whether he is important in life. I find out that he is not important, and therefore I am not concerned whether he exists or not. Physical verification is one thing, and psychological verification is quite another thing. Millions of people can be made, by modern propaganda, to believe in anything - as it has been proved over and over again - in war, in nationalism, in butchery, in calling themselves Mohammedans or Hindus and killing each other. You believe in reincarnation. But it does not affect your life at all. If it has affected your life a single second, you attitude would have been quite different. So belief has no importance whatsoever, it is just a marvellous escape. Similarly, our belief in God is merely a matter of convenience to you; it does not make any vital difference in your life. Some one among you said that he believed in Communism because he saw its good effect. This means that you believe in what produces a good effect and you do not believe in what produces a bad effect. If you are concerned with the effect only, you believe even if a good result is produced through a bad means. For instance, you believe that by butchering and by creating misery now, you will produce peace and plenty in the future. You believe in things that are gratifying. Whether it is true or false, as long as it satisfies you, you believe in that. There is positive gratification and negative gratification. If I do not achieve gratification positively, I say 'no' and that denial also gives me pleasure. You are doing ceremonies because it gratifies you. When you say it is helping others who are dead and gone, you are bringing in a different problem; which means you are doing it on authority because you books say so, your grandfather did so, or your religion says so. Your beliefs divide you into antagonistic groups. Beliefs induce mere habits which make you dull and which make you do things without knowing why you do them. MADRAS 20TH GROUP DISCUSSION 4TH DECEMBER, 1947 We do not want to be uncertain, to be in a state of confusion. So, we use belief as the most gratifying means to guide ourselves. We are not discussing belief in an isolated manner, but as related to self-knowledge, the self which is in action every day - our feelings, our thoughts and actions from moment to moment - and to think out and understand the significance of every thought, every feeling as it arises, thus uncovering the process of our own thinking so that we perceive the state of our own mind, our own being. Without understanding the creator of the self, the 'me', there can be no right action; and to bring about right thinking we must examine every thought fully and completely. We shall take one subject, like belief, at a time and think it right through so that, at the end of it, those of you who are really earnest will be free of belief, because you will perceive the truth of belief. You cannot find the truth if you are on the defensive, if you are guarding yourself. In belief is implied authority, an authority either imposed by a society, by a tradition, or the authority through experience in oneself, the authority of memory. You have an experience and you have learned something; and you use what you have learned to translate, interpret, further experience. Therefore, that experience which you have added becomes your authority, which you call the 'voice'. But, essentially it is an experience which has left a residue of memory which has been used for translating further experiences. Belief also implies specialisation, i.e., if you have an ideal, an end, you specialise to achieve that. What happens to specialists? They are fixed either in knowledge, surgery or money making, etc. They are static and frozen. The man who specialises is immobile. He moves within the frame-work of his specialisation which is always fixed. A thing which is fixed is unpliable and therefore it is broken. All specialised animals are becoming extinct. A man who is very firmly fixed in a belief is not pliable; and only that which is pliable, is enduring. I am not speaking of the pliability of a Hindu going to Europe and learning to smoke and learning to drink. That is stupidity. Pliability implies a freedom from anchorages, from specialisation, from authority and so on. Mostly, the actions based on belief, like ceremonies and rituals, are done by you without knowing why you do them. Therefore belief is binding and blinding and there is repetition of such acts without much significance. You want to know the difference between a conclusion and a conviction. A conclusion is that which is based on knowledge or that which is inherited from one's parents, from teachers, from society and through environmental influences or those which one has made. After all, conclusions which one makes are the results of the past which is the conditioning of the environment and the tradition. A conviction is also based on the past. A man who has no past cannot have convictions. A man who is without memories cannot live in convictions. The more convictions you have the more enclosed you are. Therefore, conclusions and convictions are more or less the same and they are all conditioned. You cannot be free of them unless you recognise them as enclosures. You say you have given up ceremonies now. Why did you give up? Did you give up ceremonies through understanding or through substitution? If you understand the true significance of ceremonies, they will fall off of their own accord. Otherwise, you will be merely substituting for them something else to which you will become a slave. Most of you do ceremonies automatically, because your fathers and mothers have told you; it becomes a thoughtless action and, when you have children, they are also going to do so in the same way. If you have not belief in them but do them merely to please somebody, you are really indulging in a hypocritical action. You say that you do not do the ceremonies but feed the poor on those days. Why are you feeding the poor? If you feed the poor because you love the poor irrespective of their class and caste, and not for capitalistic or communistic reasons, it is something. Someone said that as you want to live peacefully without creating any disturbance, you do the ceremonies; but life will not give you peace and it constantly challenges you. When you do not like any particular ceremony, you seek a substitution and do it; thus, you have given up ceremonies and taken to "poor-feeding." I am not concerned with the giving up of ceremonies; but I want to know why I do the ceremonies. I heard someone of you say that you do the ceremonies because of an urge from within. We know the biological urges, hunger, sex, etc., and we can trace them to their cause. But, psychological urges are much more difficult to trace, e.g. the urge to be angry, the drive of ambition to become somebody, the desire for power, position, prestige, money, a bigger house, etc. If you have an urge, it is necessary to find out why you have it and not to indulge in it blindly. The unconscious and hidden urges and thoughts are understandable if we give our mind to them, i.e. if the superficial consciousness is free and therefore in a state fit to understand them. If the urge on which you act, is a sane and balanced urge, it will tell you not to be greedy; but you do not follow that. You act only when the urge is pleasurable and not otherwise. That is why in this so-called spiritual country, the Brahmins who were once the highest expression of culture, have become degraded into shopkeepers and lawyers. We must understand the implications of obeying, and what it means to overcome or to sublimate something. Physically, when uncertain, you obey a sign-board based on a physical fact. Psychologically you obey another because you are afraid. You command or obey when there is anxiety, a sense of uncertainty. If you love there is no question of obeying or commanding; you simply love each other. If I want to get something from you, physiologically or psychologically, I am dominated by you and therefore there is no love. So, you obey an authority either through fear or through a desire for a result based on your gratification. You obey a tradition or what society says only when it suits you, when it is gratifying to you; because if you do not, you will be in anxiety. Through obedience, you think you will sublimate yourself. That is what all the religions have said 'Obey the Guru, obey the idea and you will sublimate'. You have done this for centuries, and you are none the better. To sublimate something you must understand it; the moment you understand something you are free of it. You say that by prayer and by performing ceremonies, you can get God to intervene in your personal affairs. God is something extraordinary and immeasurable; and it is fantastic to say that He speaks through somebody or is interested in any particular person. People accept that He speaks through Churchill for England, and through Hitler for Germany. We reverence such people instead of saying how ridiculous and how infantile they are. If God or a Master is really interested in me, He will tell me the whole thing and not little by little; He will also tell me to give up greed, not to hate, not to cheat and so on, which are much more important than ridiculous ceremonies or the renunciation of the world. An intelligent teacher or an intelligent doctor will surely ask you to get rid of the cause, instead of merely tinkering with a few symptoms. It may be that what you call your inner voice is merely yourself talking in the guise of a voice. You say that you perform rituals because your deeper self says so. Why do you accept what the deeper layer of the mind says, without investigating it? That voice or command may be false. Whenever you obey commands of 'deeper self' or God, you obey only in the most stupid things and not in the greatest things. You do not love your neighbour. If you really love your neighbour, there will be kindness, mercy to the animals, to the fatherless, there will not be any harsh words about anybody. You are obeying only that which is extraordinarily gratifying, like ceremonies. Therefore you do not really obey, but you are merely gratifying yourself. If you love your daughter and do not consider her as a thing to be 'married off', there will be much difference. You will not then be concerned in only one question, i.e., her marriage, but in bringing her up. You will tell her about life, you would take care of her, teach her what life is, educate her about the rotten state of society around you and so on. All this is difficult, so you consider it your duty to marry her off anyhow as long as her misery is away from you. In other words, you are not really concerned with your daughter but only with yourself. You have not realised that nothing valuable can be had without trouble. Even the most tender plant has to struggle. You just have babies and let them grow anyhow. You do not know them. Most of you do not know your most intimate relatives with whom you live. You do not know yourself. That is why you have neglected your babies, your children and your youth. You do not know how the Americans love their children and what trouble they take in regard to the care of children. If you love your children, you will be extremely watchful what they do, and what they think; you would question them why they do certain things, their notions, their actions, so that they become self-critical and observant; you would see what they eat, watch them go to bed, and be careful so that they have confidence in you; you will also discuss how to teach children and how to be brotherly. But, you do not do all this. If you merely abide by the tradition of society you do not know what you think. Merely following the current of society is superstition. If you want to understand the current you must detach yourself from the current. Perhaps our whole existence is thoughtless. This may be the result of the thoughtless past, which is the product of the group and therefore you must begin with the nearest thing that is yourself. Whether you affect the many or not, you are not concerned; because if you understand something, that itself is sufficient. MADRAS 21ST GROUP DISCUSSION 6TH DECEMBER, 1947 We have been discussing belief in relation to self-knowledge which is not understanding or the awareness of something higher, but being aware of every thought, feeling and action. To climb high, one has to go through the valley, through the turmoils, through the everyday thoughts and struggles and understand them. We are really reluctant to understand what is in the valley, the valley being our everyday existence. How can we go far unless we understand what is near, the near being our relationship with ourselves and our neighbour, with family, etc. That relationship is an extraordinary self-revealing process. Because we do not want to go through that, we are escaping through belief, through ceremonies, and all other absurd and infantile things, giving them fanciful names without much significance. It is very important to free the mind where it is, in your daily life, and to be aware of the words you use, the gestures, the attitudes, the motives, and the intentions. After all, what does it matter whether you believe in a Master or not, or what kind of ceremonies you perform? What does matter is what you are thinking, what you are doing. A man who came to see me, wanted peace of mind. When I asked him what he was doing in his daily life, he said "That does not matter, I am only speculating". He is a speculator, dealing in money, bullion. How can such a man have peace of mind and how can he have God when he is hoarding, cheating, making people miserable by his actions? If at all he thinks he has peace, that will only be a deception, a self-deceit. To have peace, he must not speculate, he must not destroy others. Similarly, those who wish to find Truth must free themselves from all bondages. A man who believes is extraordinarily credulous, and therefore he is obstinate and therefore unpliable. A tree that weathers the storm, through it has deep roots, is pliable; but a tree which is still and not pliable, is broken down. In the same way, a man who is not pliable, who is credulous, who is obstinate, is broken down, and he is miserable. The central problem will be solved only when you understand the full significance of authority implied in a belief, i.e. why you want a guide, whether the guide is a Master or a priest, an experience, or a conviction and so on. This is the real issue which you are unwilling to face. If you can understand this, then, the infantile things like ceremonies will drop away; the systems, the whole economic and social snobberies will also disappear. Then, we will be creative human beings; we will have joy because every day is new, every minute there is an ending and therefore there is renewal. But to a man who is believing and seeks guidance, there is never a moment when there is an ending. It will be a marvellous world when there is no preacher and the preached, when there is no teacher and the disciple. Then each person will be creative, each person will know the highest and live without craving for direction. After all, we seek guidance, either within or without, a Guru, an ideal, a memory - the memory being only the experience, the voice, the law, the Government, the Society, the Party, the Democratic or the Republican, the Socialist, the Communist, the desire to seek guidance from a book, the Marx's, the Bhagavad Gita and so on. I do not know if you see the extraordinary width of it, the vastness of this desire to find guidance, from the school-teacher in a little village to the autocratic and tyrannical boss of the State, from the man who has wealth to the petty little secretary of a small organisation. Someone says that as intelligence varies in individuals, the less intelligent require some guidance from those who are more intelligent than they. One may be dull and not be so well educated and cunning as another. But, where do the dull and the clever meet so that they can come together and discuss? To have a meeting-ground, we say we will have a common guidance - God, or a common Guru, or a common idea. Though the ideal may be common for both of us, what is our relationship between each other? Our conception of the common ideal is different, as one is dull of understanding and the other clever. Therefore, they do not meet. Similarly, there is no meeting ground between you who are full of beliefs, ceremonies and rituals, and I who am without them. You say that you and I are both seeking God when you are anchored in your beliefs and therefore cannot go far? Any two people can meet when they love each other. The man who loves another - his wife, his children, his friends, etc. - will not talk about ideals and beliefs. What has happened to all the recent revolutions? They started out to establish the ideal of equality. This ideal was soon lost sight of. In the end, the man who is in authority has more power and more money than the man who is down below working in the factory, and therefore, they never meet. The only place where they can meet is their hearts; but there is no love there. Love alone can establish equality between individuals. Let us try and understand what guidance means and why you seek guidance. You are lost, you are confused, you are in turmoil, you do not know how to behave; you do not like that state and want to get out of it to clarity. Therefore, you approach somebody else for guidance, to seek direction. It is like a baby who seeks guidance from the mother or from the teacher because it does not know and it is curious to know the name of the bird or the name of the tree and so on. You look to that somebody to show you the way on conduct - economic, social, spiritual, physiological, biological, etc. What is the relationship between you and me? You are aware that you are confused, confused in relationship, confused in ideas, confused in society which is already confused - religiously and psychologically - everywhere you are confused, everything is on the decline. So, you come and seek my guidance to get out from there, on all the different levels of consciousness. If this is correct, then, you have made me your guide. But, I refuse to be your guide; I say "Look at your confusion", which you refuse. Therefore, there is no relationship between us. Guidance is a false relationship between any two, between God and yourself. To look at the confusion, you must free yourself from the idea of guidance. Before you can find out the meaning of confusion you must find out why you seek guidance. Because I refuse to be your guide, you will go to somebody else; I am not in competition with the other Gurus, but I want you to be free. You seek guidance because you do not understand the confusion, the misery, the strife, the pain, etc; and you believe that somebody else will help you to understand; you go to him and expect him to resolve your confusion. Therefore, he becomes your guide. He tells you want to do. Gradually, your mind is filled with his ideas, his gestures, his words, etc. and he becomes all-important. Though you may say you have found the real Guru, the confusion is still there; only you have concentrated your attention on him, instead of on your confusion. Then, something happens and you feel lost again. You now say that your Guru is not such a nice Guru as you thought, and you go to another Guru. This is what has been happening for centuries. Thus, in your everyday life, whenever you feel confused, you readily transfer your problem to another level - the Guru, the Book, the Leader, the Party, the System, the Idea. But, the problem of confusion is still there. You are unwilling to face the problem and, being unwilling, you have sought an escape in somebody who will help you get out of the confusion. You have been practising for generations and generations to find a substitute to the problem. If you take a pill for indigestion and go on doing that, you depend on the pills and the pills become very important. Thus, your guides, the pills, have become important and not the problem. You started to clear the confusion and ended with the pills, escapes from confusion. So you have got now the confusion and the pill; and instead of dealing with one problem you have two problems now. So, you multiply the problems, instead of seeing the one problem, confusion. When you are confronted with the two problems, the pill and the confusion, what is your response? the pill has become more important than the problem itself; and so, the problem remains and the pill remains! When you are confronted by this, when you understand how the pill is only an escape and does not help you in solving the problem, the pill gets away. You do not have to throw it away, or choose different kinds of pills. There is no question of choosing. There will only be choice when you do not understand the significance of the pill. The moment you understand, the moment you see something as false, it drops away. Then there is only the problem left, and there is no question of turning to the problem. In discussing this, you found that pills are distractions from the problem. You wander from one manufacturer to another, one Guru to another, and so your going from Guru to Guru has become important, not the problem. You do not want to understand the problem, because you believe the pill is going to solve it. But the problem is still there. If you see the significance of of the pill, the pill is gone, and the problem remains. Therefore, you must see the Truth in the false. The false are the pills, and the moment you see the truth of that, the false will drop away, and you do not have to see the latest pill. When you realise that your beliefs and your guides are really escapes from the problem of your confusion, which still remains to be understood and solved, and that therefore they have no significance to you in regard to the solving of the problem, your guides drop away; and the problem of confusion alone confronts you, and you look at it whether it is painful, disagreeable or otherwise. In this state, your mind is not distracted at all but quiet and passively alert in observing the problem without any effort whatsoever, i.e., your mind is fresh because it has seen the false as false; it cannot therefore translate or interpret the problem but sees it as it is. Thus, the problem though old has become new, because it has not been faced before but only now. A new mind faces a new problem without any translation or interpretation according to a pattern, and it is eager to know all about it and, therefore, loves it. Love transforms even the most ugly. Where there is love, there is instantaneous communication, confusion ceases, there is clarity; and the problem thus ceases to exist. MADRAS 22ND GROUP DISCUSSION 9TH DECEMBER, 1947 Not only at the present time, but always, the fundamental truth is that man divides himself by beliefs, by systems. As nationalism divides human beings, beliefs break up friendship and create animosity. At the present time, when the world is in such a frightful chaos when all the values have disintegrated, when the so-called democracies are also leading up to regimentation,surely those who have thought about the cause of the misery and the antagonism that exists, should attempt to bring about a new society and not merely the reconstruction of the old, because the old cannot be patched-up and even if it is patched-up it will remain still the old. As wisdom comes only with the knowledge of our everyday activities and feelings, we shall today take up the study of "evil" as a means of revealing the process of our own thinking. 'Evil' is a predominant factor in our daily life. All ideas are interrelated, and by examining one profoundly and following it through, you will see how extraordinarily interrelated they are. Various philosophers in Europe and in this country and various religions, have thought over this problem of evil. Great men have given their life over to its study. But, you readily throw off explanations without any thinking. Let us enquire into this like mature people and understand its implications and its significance, so that we may be able to alter the conduct of our daily life. It is no use thinking about 'evil' according to what is written about it in books or translating it according to our experience. Our experience is itself "accumulated memory" which is always translating through the screen of personal advantages and gains. To understand a problem of enormous significance, like evil, your mind must be in a receptive mood. Just as the problem of labour cannot be understood if you approach it merely as a capitalist, or as a socialist, or a labourman, so also to understand the problem of evil, you must not approach it from any single point, such as a sense of guilt, personal experience, selfishness, etc. You say that whatever hinders progress, is evil. What is progress, what is evolution? The cart-wheel has progressed to aeroplane; the germ has become the child. We have progressed from the age of the arrow to that of the atomic bomb. Now, we have more breaking up of people than ever, more armies, more national feeling, more fear and more starvation. People have become more greedy and more cunning in a cunning society and more competitive in a competitive society. In spite of the havoc and misery caused by the two world wars, many persons consider that war is inevitable and, in the nature of things, is a means to peace. Is all this progress? We have to consider progress as a means of human happiness, i. e., as progress towards human love, consideration, generosity and charity. Have we evolved psychologically towards freedom and happiness? There is more and more deterioration all round -tyranny, dictatorship, diseases, starvation, hatred, wars and confusion. You say that God has a plan and anything that interferes with that plan is evil. This is the old idea of a fight between God and the Devil. Look about you, and see what is happening in nature. One bird destroys another bird, one animal leaps on another, the snake lives by its poison and the strong live on the weak. There is continual strife to live by any means. The snake is the most extraordinary animal developing its own poison for its self-protection. There is a kind of snake in Brazil which, to protect itself, becomes rigid like a bar of steel and cannot be bent. Perhaps a snake is not cruel or evil at all. We call a snake evil and kill it. Among us, the strong live on the weak, the clever live on the stupid. The capitalist is hoarding money and property at the expense of others. The books have said that they are evil, and yet we are doing that. Inwardly, there is a battle between the opposites, between what I want and what I do not want. I am brutal and greedy and I do not want to be brutal and greedy. We also want to survive physically as a person and also psychologically as the name, as an idea, etc. Our everyday existence is confusion, ignorance, sorrow, pleasure, a constant battle, a constant strife. Has evil any relationship to this battle in us between the opposites or is it like Death, like God, like Truth, something apart from this everyday existence? Is 'evil' an idea which is used by the society to control man so that he does not go beyond the limits? Organised religions have cultivated and controlled man by their laws through fear, through compulsion, through imitation, through fears of contradiction and has said 'You must be this'. When you go beyond those laws, they say it is evil. For instance, organised religion has never said that ambition is evil, but has always decried sex. Don't you see the implications? Does evil mean to you a conquering of some temptation? Buddha is supposed to have fought with "Mara" and won. Jesus is supposed to have been tempted by the devil and conquered it. Perhaps, we are thinking altogether wrongly, when we have the idea that there are evil forces in the world, the dark forces in opposition to the white forces. So, to understand this, you must begin with yourself. You do something wrong and you have pain. There is a physiological suffering and a psychological suffering; they are not quite clear-cut. What is the cause of this suffering? Is it easily dissolved? We need food, clothing and shelter. If I am satisfied with a few clothes, food and shelter, I will never come into conflict with another; but, if I use food, clothing and shelter as a means of psychological exploitation, I will come into conflict. Some of you advocated suffering as a means to acquire intelligence. Is one to cultivate intelligence through suffering? Is not suffering an indication of ignorance? I suffer when my son dies, because I do not understand the implications of death. Do I sit down and find out the cause of suffering, or do I run away to seek relief from pain with the aid of a priest? If I want to go into the whole significance of death I must have intelligence. You say ignorance is a means of enlightenment; that is, suffer more and more, and you will become more and more intelligent. Do you become intelligent in that manner? Surely you will get intelligence only through understanding suffering, and not through mere suffering. So, when you say suffering brings intelligence it is not a fact. Through ignorance there can be nothing but ignorance. Through wrong means you have only a wrong end. As you have been constantly seeking escapes from suffering, you have become clever and intelligent in escapes; but you have not understood suffering. To understand suffering, you have to live with it. To find the cause of suffering, you must go into it and not reject suffering. Understanding will come only when you give your whole being to understand the problem. Is evil the denial of good? By denying evil, do you understand evil? To understand anything there must not be denial, nor condemnation, nor identification with it. Take, for example, God. I am not talking about what the books say or about the images in temples; that is not God. God is an unknown thing and therefore you must go to it with a free mind, without any conclusions or condemnations. So also, evil is not the denial of good. Beauty is not the denial of the ugly. Is "evil" or "vice" or "the bad" the opposite of the good? Is good the opposite of evil? Does not each opposite contain the germ of its own opposite? Is fear the opposite of bravery? If I am a coward I want to become brave. In doing so, instead of understanding fear, I have tried to become brave. Therefore, bravery has an element of fear in it. You say that a man in war is doing his duty; but you forget that he is stuffed with propaganda of all kinds; he is told that his country will suffer, and he is stuffed with rum before he fights. Is this doing his duty? Even in the case of a mother loving her child, either she gives her life to it which is spontaneous, or it may be calculated, because, without the child, she is lost. When I am stupid I want to become clever. Is not "becoming clever" a part of stupidity? There is conflict between what I am and the thing which I want to be. The thing which I want to be is part of my own projection of stupidity. If I understood stupidity, then the problem ceases. The very awareness of the fact that I am stupid is the beginning of intelligence, and not trying to become clever. If I think in these terms, there is no opposite at all; the opposite may be a fabrication of the mind. Has not non-greed the element of greed? When I am greedy positively in going after property, etc., I want to become non-greedy; I am still greedy negatively in going after non-greed. I find greed does not pay and, perhaps if I become non-greedy, it will pay - which is still greed in an uncreative form. You will never understand anything by thinking in terms of its opposite. Similarly, if I am evil and I try to become good, the good has the seed of evil. Instead of pursuing and creating the opposite, if I say 'All right, I am greedy, it is a fact', then, something happens and I cease to be greedy. The moment I recognise it, it falls away. MADRAS 23RD GROUP DISCUSSION 11TH DECEMBER, 1947 We were talking about evil in relation to the problem of duality and the conflict of the opposites, i.e. about what is going on in the world - left against the right, the believer against the non-believer, the communist against the capitalist, labour against capital, arrogance against humility, good against evil, etc. Now, is there such a thing as the opposites? Someone of you said that good is that which gives the greatest happiness to the largest number of people. Is this so? The fighting men are extraordinarily delighted and happy if there is war. They are relieved of their responsibilities and they are told what to do. The greatest number of people like to believe in some kind of superstition, whether it is the superstition of nationality, or of race, superstition of a scientific man, or religious superstition. So, can we say good is what gives happiness to the most? Obviously not, nor what is harmful to the most is evil. Is that the way of discovering the truth of anything, bringing in the utilitarian point of view? Is it not the correct way to view the thing as it is, and not be confused by its effect or action on the many or the one? Can we not think directly instead of bringing in its action, whether it is beneficial for the many or for the few? After all, the State decides what is good for the people, whether the right or the left, passes certain regulations and laws and says that he who obeys them is the good, and the person who is disobeying it is the evil. Now, can you be called good when you are kind, merciful and generous spontaneously? Why do we name it? If a good action is said to be an example for others to follow, is it good? It ceases to be mercy when somebody imitates mercy. Why do we create these words, good and evil? Let us consider the left and the right. Is the left different from the right? The left is the idea that sensory values are the only values worth cultivating, giving happiness to man; and that, therefore, man through the control of environment can be shaped according to the edicts of society and the State; in that control there should be no values except the sensory values. The Socialist, the Fascist and the Communist believe in that; to them the individual is not at all important, because he is merely the result of sensate values, to be controlled and shaped, or to be transformed and moulded, according to the desire of the State or what the State wants. Then, there is the so-called opposite to it, the right - the absolutest as opposed to the materialist - he has only an absolute value which is God, in which is involved the priest, the Church, the organisation. The capitalists who believe in the absolute value of God are sacrificing the individuals through exploitation, ruthless murderous exploitation, corruption and competition; during a crisis, like a war, they too adopt the same attitude towards the individual as the communist. Similarly, the man who believes in the Church and who wants to spread religion as a means of salvation, believes in the good end and says "let us make this world as ruthlessly efficient as possible" and fights the man who is against the Church. But are they - the Communist and the Capitalist, or the Materialist and the Absolutist - the opposites? Is there the dual, the sensory and the non-sensory, as two in opposite? This is a problem confronting the people all over the world, the religious person who wants to spread religion and the other wanting to spread his external, materialistic, dialectic conclusions. We are trying to find out whether the left is an opposite to the right, or is merely the extension of the right. After all, without understanding the centre, the left or the right are the same. It is only when one understands the centre which is the individual from which the left and the right come into being, there can be true revolution, not revolution to the left or to the right. but, as long as you are thinking in terms of the left or the right, you cannot understand the centre. The problem now is not whether the left is right or the right is wrong, but whether opposites exist, i.e. the problem of thesis and antithesis, "this" opposed to "that". Is there such a problem, the capitalist opposed to the communist, the communist opposed to the religious, that which is in contradiction to that which is not? You are this and you want to be that; you are ignorant and you want to be enlightened; you are arrogant and you want to be humble. Or you are ambitious and ruthless, and you carry on. Thus your whole existence is a conflict of opposites. All your religious books and edicts are based on 'You are this and you must become that.' Are you satisfied with this struggle of opposites? The clerk becoming the manager and the manager becoming the executive, is our whole everyday struggle. Should you not question it to find out the reason for this conflict, this ceaseless battle till you die and to be still wanting to continue after death? The conflict of the opposites exists in all the different layers of our existence - social, economic, political, inward, psychological, spiritual and so on. This is a constant battle between 'what you are' and 'what you would like to become'. As an example covering the whole of life - i.e. the Clerk becoming the Manager, the Priest becoming the Bishop, the Collector becoming the Governor, the ignorant becoming the enlightened, evil becoming the good and so on - let us consider 'arrogance'. I am arrogant and I spend my energy in becoming humble, adopting meditations, beliefs and ceremonies as helps to keep me on in this conflict of 'becoming' the opposite of 'what I am'. I have accepted this process of 'becoming' as the way of life, thoughtlessly and without any investigation, thinking it to be inevitable because all the religious people have told me like that. Is that the way to live? In order to understand the truth about this, I should not accept any contradiction, though I am caught in contradiction; but I must put it aside. Someone says that, in order to bring abut peace, you must go to war, if necessary, with the anti-social people. He believes, therefore, that war is a means to peace. In order to fight the communist or the capitalist, you must be as clever as he and should employ all his methods, his ways, his propaganda, and his ways of telling lies, i.e. you have to become himself. England has fought for years for the freedom of labour and now directs it. Our whole existence is this, fighting evil by evil means, but saying, 'Well, I am not evil,' as though we are extraordinarily righteous. Wrong means will surely produce a wrong end. In our everyday life, we have thoughtlessly accepted as inevitable this struggle of opposites - I am this and I want to become that - without knowing the whole significance of 'what I am'; so, the end also is bound to be thoughtless. It is thoughtless on the part of an arrogant man to struggle to become humble; he will never become humble. What does 'to become' mean? 'I am this' and 'I want to become that.' 'I am arrogant' is a fact and I know it. But 'humility' I do not know; it is an objective which I would like to be. Humility, therefore, is not the actual; but the ideal. That is one part of the problem. The other part of the problem is the idea of becoming. Is there a becoming at all? I know the acorn becomes the oak; this is not a becoming; it is what it is all the time and it has its own becoming. There is no becoming of an acorn into the rose or the pine tree. If you can understand the problem of becoming, then perhaps you will discover the truth about duality. You are 'A', and you want to become 'B'. Now, what is 'B'? Is it not a negative response to what is 'A'? You are arrogant and the negative response is humility and you must become that. That is, you are arrogant; and negatively you are going to become that which is humble. You find arrogance not so pleasurable as you thought it was, because there is pain involved and arrogance does not pay you; perhaps becoming humble will pay you. Thus, 'becoming' implies a profit motive. You say that you, being arrogant, want to become humble because then only can you get to God. This means that you want a result which is more beneficial, less harmful, and happier than arrogance. The real motive for a 'becoming' is for a profit, not only physiologically, but psychologically. You are 'arrogant,' the 'A'; and you want to get away from that. You begin to say that arrogance does not pay and therefore you create humility, the 'B'; you try to become that which is non-existent, as 'B' is non-existent but theoretical and ideological. You have created the opposite 'B' which is non-existent and yet you are trying to become that. 'A' alone, arrogance, is existent. Because it is not profitable you want to become the opposite which is humility. When you examine the opposite and you see what is involved in it, you see that you have created it as a negative response. Therefore, in creating the opposite,the opposite has the seed of arrogance. 'B' has the seed of 'A' because 'B' has been brought into being through 'A'. It is only an ideological thing which is to be got and it is not existent apart from A. So, you have found out that the conflict between 'A' and 'B' is fallacious and does not lead you anywhere. As another illustration of this conflict of opposites, let us take 'fear' and 'bravery'. You are afraid and you want to become brave, because fear does not pay in the world and everybody says you must be brave; which means, you want to become brave because you are afraid. The motive is still fear. Though you have taken the cloak of bravery, there is still fear. The intention in becoming brave is still fear. Therefore, bravery, as the opposite of fear, has the seed of fear. Similarly about anger. We are not discussing how to get rid of anger. First, we must know what we are doing before we get rid of anger. You are angry and what is your response? You said to another something sharp and you regret; and you say 'I wish I did not get angry'. Again, you are angry and again you say "Awful, what is the matter?" and you create the opposite which is non-anger, because anger is very disturbing. If you can understand the conflict of the opposites, you may be able to deal with anger quite differently. You are in a state which is very disturbing and you do not like that state. You like the state which is quite peaceful and more profitable. Therefore, you are moving from 'what you are' to 'what you want to be' as the opposite of 'what you are', with a motive for profit. The opposite is created on account of your desire for profit or benefit, for a result; it is non-existent. Therefore, the fight between the so-called opposites is between 'what is' and 'what is not'. How can there be a fight between one which is existent and some- thing which in non-existent apart from it? It is only on the verbal level. Therefore, the fight is an illusion, a stupid and thoughtless action. Conflict between the opposites - whether it is the left or the right, between capital and labour, between God and Devil, is nonexistent: because, there is only one thing, 'what is': and any movement away from 'what is' is stupidity. Therefore, the conflict has no significance. To understand the disturbing state in which you find yourself, you must first stop the fighting with the opposite which is nonexistent, i.e. you must give up the struggle to become the opposite. Do not condemn that state nor identify yourself with it. Then, watch it with your whole being and be aware of it. Whenever we have a feeling, we generally name it so that we may recognise it and also communicate it, if necessary, to others. Investigation into and understanding of the feeling itself, which is changing and in movement, demands freedom from terminology, as the term is not the thing that it is supposed to denote. If a feeling is investigated through a term, the term becomes important and not the feeling. When communicated to another, that other interprets the term or the word according to his own feeling. Thus, the term influences, modifies, and shapes the feeling. For the same reasons, the word 'God' is not 'God' and yet it has become an extraordinarily important word. We shall discuss further this question of terminology in relation to feelings, at our next meeting. MADRAS 24TH GROUP DISCUSSION 13TH DECEMBER, 1947 Before we begin with our discussion where we left off, it is very important to bear in mind why we meet as, otherwise, these discussions will deteriorate into mere intellection without any significance. I think one should distinguish between hearing inside oneself and listening. Listening is surely something outside. Hearing is much more subjective. Let us hear each other rather than listen to each other. These discussions are really meant to reveal the way of our own thinking, feeling and acting. Right thinking begins only in discovering what is exactly taking place in each one of us - the illusions, the vicious motives, the intentions; being aware of all these leads to right thinking - i.e., through self-knowledge only can right thinking come into being and not through any book, not through any listening to a talk but by being aware of every movement of thought and feeling in ourselves. We were discussing, when we last met, about the problem of duality, whether this conflict was inevitable - this conflict between ignorance and knowledge, between arrogance and humility, anger and peace, capitalism and communism, the left and the right, and so on. This conflict between the opposites has apparently been accepted by us as an inevitable fact in our life. Is life meant to be a series of conflicts in the corridor of opposites or is our approach to the problem of the opposites wrong? If the opposites are inevitable, then the end of life is also a battle because an opposite always creates its opposite. I am something and I want to become something else. I am arrogant and I strive to become humble; I am violent, and I want to become nonviolent; I am greedy and I strive to become non-greedy. That is what we have been doing in our meditations and in our daily existence. Now, is the opposite a fact? Does the opposite exist apart from its opposite, as humility, as non-greed, as non-violence and so on? Is not every opposite a reaction to and result of its own opposite? As humility is a result of arrogance, humility contains the germ of arrogance. You find arrogance is not profitable and is a disturbing factor; and you have been told that arrogance is taboo socially, morally, and religiously; and therefore you strive to become humble which is more profitable. So your motive is still the desire to gain, the desire to become something. So humility contains the seed of arrogance. Now, the fact is that arrogance is existent, but the 'being non-arrogant or humble' is not a fact. Humility is existent only in theory but actually is not. The 'A' being arrogance creates 'B' which is humility; but the 'B' in itself is non-existent apart from 'A'. 'B' cannot exist apart from 'A'. So the conflict to become 'B' is illusory and fallacious. If you recognise the conflict to be non-essential and false, then the conflict ceases. If good is the opposite of bad, goodness contains the bad because goodness is the result of its opposite, the bad. I am bad and I want to become good. The becoming good is the outcome of being bad. Therefore, it is still bad though I call it good. I accept this becoming good as long as it is profitable, as long as there is no suffering in it. The moment I suffer and the moment I realise that being bad is forbidden socially and religiously, then I try to become good. So, behind that becoming there is still the motive to gain a more profitable quality. Therefore, the good, which is the opposite of bad, is no longer good. If love is the opposite of hate, surely it is not love. If peace is the opposite of violence, then it is no longer peace because my trying to become peaceful is due to my finding that violence does not pay any more; the motive is still the same. If love is the opposite of hate, then it is the result of hate. Therefore, the conflict between the opposites is really a fallacious conflict; though we indulge in that, it does not lead us anywhere. If this is realised and understood, the conflict ceases. Why do we name any quality? Perhaps, if we do not name it or term it, it may have a different significance. A quality arises in me, which I term as arrogance; and I either approve of it or condemn it. If I do not term it and if I do not specify the quality, what would happen? Is the feeling different from the term, or does the term give significance to the feeling? That is, is the feeling apart from the term, or do I look at the feeling through the term? The word is not the thing. the word 'God' is not God, and therefore the term is independent of God though you may call it God. The term has nothing to do with Reality. If the feeling and the term are two separate things, then in observing the term and understanding the process of how the term comes into being, perhaps we shall not confuse it with the feeling; then the feeling will have a different meaning, a different significance. You have accepted the term God as God through temples, priests and sacred books; and so they have become important to you. If somebody says that what you have accepted for years as God is not God, it gives you a shock, the shock being the nervous response, a sense of nervous apprehension. But when you see that the term is not the thing, you are free of the shock. If you understand and realise that the term God is not God it has an extraordinary nervous and verbal response in you; you are free of all the implications of the word God being accepted as God. Then the temples will have no meaning, whether we go to it or do not go, because the term is not the God; therefore we are at once free from all priests, temples, churches and so on. There is no conflict of any going and worshipping in a temple, because the image is not the Real and if you really worship, the image disappears. This can have action only when the response is nervous as well as verbal. But, unfortunately, your understanding is only verbal because if you say the word is not the thing and carry it out, you will have to go into conflict with your family and with society. The term is not the feeling though it is made to represent the feeling. Why is a quality or feeling named? The naming is done with a view (i) to convey or communicate the quality to others and (ii) to pin down or to evaluate the quality. In pinning down the new quality, the quality is recognised and evaluated in terms of the old frame of references based on memory. As the feeling itself is in the present and therefore new, whereas the references into which it is fitted by naming it relate to the past,the new is interpreted and modified in terms of the old, thus strengthening memory, i.e. the 'me'. The quality or feeling is thus absorbed into the 'me' and is given continuance in time as memory. Without memory, there cannot be evaluation. The frame of references is the result of evaluation which is based on memory; so, it is the old. The feeling, when it arises, is new and in the present; when that feeling is termed, it is translated or modified so as to fit it into the old framework of references, memory, thus strengthening memory. So, in giving a term to the feeling, the 'me' is strengthened; and the person concerned feels stronger psychologically; when he says "this is my property", he feels already more powerful. What would happen to a feeling if you did not judge it by the frame of reference - i.e. if you do not name verbally that feeling or quality? When there is response to a challenge, if you name the response, you give it continuance because it is absorbed into the frame of references. Consciousness in all its different layers is memory, whether it is the memory of the Paramatman or of anything else; and all such memory is the result of your parents and grandparents and so on, or the result of books; consciousness is still in the field of memory, you cannot think of Paramatman without memory. Now, suppose a reaction arises and you do not name it. Then, you do not absorb it into consciousness, but you are merely aware of it; the feeling and the response or reactions would cease after running their course; the feeling is not judged or evaluated and it is not absorbed into memory. We are all accustomed to name every reaction and refer it to the frame of references, memory, almost instinctively. But if you experiment with it and refuse to name a feeling when it arises in you, you will see that there is a time-lag, between the feeling and the naming. For instance, if a man treads on your feet, you have the reaction of pain, which is inevitable and cannot be helped; but you do not hit back the man who has trodden on your feet. When you refuse to name it, though the reaction is there, it is not put into the frame of references. The pain has now a different significance. Next time you will be more careful where you put your feet. Thus, by understanding the reaction, you would be observant and alert and be aware of what is actually taking place without the framework of references. This is intelligence. We have now discovered that we are always fighting reactions without understanding their significance; and if we do not name them, i.e. if we do not refer them to the framework of references, they wither away. This happens whether the qualities are pleasurable or painful. Generally you accept the pleasurable and deny the non-pleasurable. When you deny the non-pleasurable, you are really strengthening yourself. The man who says he is seeking spiritual things, God, is also denying and pursuing the pleasurable. There is very little difference between him and the ordinary man who is seeking pleasure. They are both seeking pleasure though in different planes of consciousness; the one seeks gratification through God and the other seeks pleasure through drink. At present there is an increase, all over the world, in sensate values - more theatres, more cinemas, more drinks, more clothes, more and more. The so-called spiritual man, seeing this, says 'I do not like it', and follows his ideation; that is, he denies the sensate and goes after the ideation, as the ideation gives him pleasure. Thus, the spiritual man is also following the pleasurable, like the man of the sensate. The man who is pursuing sensate values is destroying the world; he is saying that there is nothing more than the sensate and therefore is indulging in the sensate in the most irresponsible manner regardless of the consequences on others. This has been shown over and over again by wars after wars. We say that such a man is a stupid man, materialistic, communistic and so on; and we try to get rid of him and to pursue our ideations. The man of the sensate and the man of the ideational are meeting at the same point, both their values are based on the senses, though the man who says he is following the ideation may do less harm in society. Obviously the sensate man does harm to the society; and the man of ideation is also creating harm, only on a different level because he has confused the term with Reality and the term becomes very important - your God and my God, your ceremonies and my ceremonies, or I am Brahmin and you are an Untouchable, which are the results of ideation. So, just as the sensate man creates havoc in the world, the man of ideation with a framework of references also creates mischief; in fact, the latter does more harm. We can deal with a sensate man, because he is pursuing his pleasure through things; most of such men are poor and have very little means. The man who is pursuing ideation is much more dangerous, as he is pursuing pleasure through his ideas and as ideas divide man more than things. The Left and the Right are pursuing ideas and not things. If they were pursuing things, they would give us things. Because the ideational man is pursuing the idea, he creates division between belief and belief, man and man; if he really gives his concern to men and to things, he would organize society on a different basis; there would not be your belief as something superior to mine. But he would not do that because his ideas are more important. The system becomes more important than distribution and there is wrangling. It is not the things that are dividing man, but ideas. If that is understood, life would become very simple. There is scientific skill in the world to produce things for everybody. There is knowledge at the disposal of man to produce enough food, clothing and shelter; but the ideas of nationalities such as the Americans, the English, the Germans, the Russians and so on, are preventing man from making it effective. Therefore there is this mess and misery in the world. If I say "I will begin to understand the sensate", I can proceed step by step into the deeper things. Then, I can find out whether there is Reality or not. But to assume Reality is an idea which leads to illusion. Just as the word, 'God' is not God, so the term for a feeling is not the feeling. When we do not put a feeling in the framework of references, the feeling comes to an end, withers away. When we do not term our feelings at all, both the painful feelings as well as the pleasurable feelings, the mind will be still and there would be no reference to the framework of memory and the feelings wither away. Thus, the conflict of duality exists only when there is the naming of the feelings, and if we do not term the feelings, there is freedom from the conflict. What is then important for you is to find out, in our daily life, the truth of this, and then you will be content with a more peaceful and serene and intelligent life. When you come to that point you can find out the significance of life, what it really means to love, and not its dictionary meaning, not a philosophical meaning for you to follow. When we come to that point, we can talk of other subjects like dreams, whether the Communist is right or the Rightist is right, and so on. The understanding of Truth gives freedom and therefore happiness. MADRAS 25TH GROUP DISCUSSION 16TH DECEMBER, 1947 I wonder how far you have been experimenting with what we have been discussing, namely, the problem of conflict and effort which brings about duality, the opposite, and the problem of terming a feeling. I wonder what has been the result of it and whether it has any fundamental effect on your daily activities. Do you translate into action anything that you hear or do you just let it pass by? Today, let us try and find out the meaning or the significance of 'not terming a feeling' in relationship, whether with your family, your boss, or your clerk - in your daily life. Can you live in relationship with another without naming a feeling? Let us suppose that you are really serious in experimenting with this in your relationship, for instance, with your wife. What will this lead to? You are irritated with your wife when she says something which you do not like. You retaliate. A few minutes later, you say to yourself, "Well, what about the discussions I had in regard to 'not naming a feeling'? I will not name the feeling in future." Similar occasions arise again. Then, if you experiment with this earnestly, you will find that the time-interval between the instinctive responses and your thoughtful responses gradually gets less and less, and that, in the end, you do not instinctively respond, but you watch yourself and do not name the feeling that arises in you, with the result that you do not get cross with your wife. You are now calm and quiet whatever your wife may say or do. Your wife will probably get more and more irritated with you on this account; she is not thinking along the same lines as yourself. At this stage you may turn away from sensate values, but your wife may be caught only in sensate values. She feels miserable; she feels thwarted because she does not get the things she wants. She has children; yet she does find love in them and therefore seeks an expression of love in things - car, house and other things of life. You try to talk over matters with her but she refuses to listen to you and becomes firm in her stand for things. What do you do? A friend advises you to effect a compromise with her by handing over your cheque-book to her. You try this method. She does not want your cheque-book because what she wants is your heart which you are not giving her. You find that compromise is only an intellectual and verbal balance between two people who do not understand each other but who are tied by social conventions, and that, therefore, compromise is slow death. You get exasperated and begin to talk over the matter with her seriously. She retorts and says to you "I want a car, a house, and a few things of life, because I know you are slipping from me. You have not given me your love. You are now slipping away from me into a realm which I cannot possibly understand and enter. I would like to follow you but I cannot. I have a child to look after. I have no love, if I had love, it would have filled my heart. I have not got that love at all and the love of the child is very little; the child does not know of love and it only clings to me. I have not the love which replenishes and fulfils my life. So, the child, the house and the car have become enormously important to me. I am quite different physically from you because I bear children. I am therefore more conservative and I want security. Emotionally, I am not so concentrated as you are. We have not loved each other and so the child has become all important. When I grow old and the children go away, what shall I be left with? An aching memory, a drudgery kitchen, an ailing husband who does not know what it means to love; and a frustrated life. I am even now feeling frustrated. That is why I am irritable, nervous and anxious. You are going one way and I another way. Where do we meet? We have never met except in bed; now, there is not even that. You sought pleasure with me to further your name, and I became your cook and bearer of children. You are now trying to educate me, which you never did before. You are now more and more alert. So, I have become anxious. You now talk of love and all the rest of it but you have no love for me. You do not understand me at all." Now, you realise the need for your wife and yourself to understand each other. When you sincerely begin to understand her, you will have consideration and affection for her. You will try to find out all about her, her physical condition and her nervous responses. In understanding her, you will understand her desire for things. With mutual understanding there will be love; and the problem will then cease. Thus you will find that, if you do not term the feelings, the implications are extraordinarily significant in relation to your wife or in relation to society, whether Communist, Capitalist, or something else. What is your relationship to property or things, if you do not name or give a term to a feeling, whether pleasant or unpleasant? You all own property. You all have titles, B.A., M.A., Judge, Doctor, etc. What will happen to your feeling of ownership -'my' property, 'my' wife, 'my' son, 'my' title - if you adopt this suggestion of 'not naming the feeling' and relate it to daily actions in which there is the feeling of ownership of possession? If you are not naming a quality or terming a feeling, then the feeling dies away. Similarly, if that quality which we call acquisitiveness is not termed, the acquisitiveness withers away. When you do not name the feeling, then life becomes very simple. Naming a feeling is giving it continuity whether it is pleasurable or painful. How do you relate it to your property? If you change your name into "Swami something," it means only that name is more important. But, what happens when I drop my name, not literally, but when the content behind the name has completely gone out of it? I am not lost if somebody calls me by another name, but you are; because round the name there is a feeling - the ancestral, Brahmanic, etc., the feeling of property which you are going to leave your son - which is the very thing which you deny verbally, theoretically, when you want not to name a feeling. But you are attached to your name because of the content behind the name or title. To name a feeling, whether it is pleasurable or painful, is to give it continuity, to give birth to itself repeatedly. If you are serious in the search after Truth, you are bound to drop the naming with regard to property which is bank-account, cheque-book, the stored up money, etc. Generally you are concerned only with words and not with feelings. If I flatter you, you are pleased and if I insult you, you get annoyed. Should not a wise man be indifferent to flattery and insult? If I am not a scoundrel and somebody calls me a scoundrel I want to find out, I want to discover whether he is correct. If I am a scoundrel and somebody calls me as such, and if I do not want to be discovered as one, I get annoyed. In other words, this irritation is a process of self-protectiveness. The proper attitude is for me to know in what way you think me a scoundrel. Similarly, the use of titles is a form of exploitation. Mrs. Smith, if she calls herself Lady Smith, gets better treatment. She finds others snobbish and she wants to exploit their snobbishness by using titles. How are you to deal with property? Can you give up your property by saying that you are not going to name you property? You say that you will use your property only for your needs and that you will discourage acquisitiveness. It is a wrong question to ask where to draw the line between needs and acquisitiveness, because you will have always needs. Acquisitiveness creates needs. You can find this out for yourself when you go to a shop. Then there is the use of property as a means of self-expansion, and the use of an organisation as a means of self-fulfilment. You belong to a certain society, a certain group because that group of people have property, shelter or an idea which is extraordinarily useful to you. So, belonging to an organisation whether it is the Hindu or the Muslim and so on, is for self-expansion. If all these things drop away, you would be happy people; you would not be merely talking about brotherhood, but you would spread kindness and would love others. Now your love is concentrated in property and, therefore, you have little love for persons. Naming the property, ie identifying and giving continuance to the feeling of acquisitiveness, is one of the problems which is creating terrible havoc in the world. The man who uses a title, who is acquisitive, can never be happy, never be brotherly, though he may talk about brotherhood and happiness. Mere giving up of property or title, outwardly, will not solve the problem; you can give up the content of property or title only when you understand its whole significance. If you do not understand the whole significance, the remnants of acquisitiveness will still remain in the mind. This is really difficult because, psychologically, you are the property. Without it, where are you? The moment you let it go, you feel lost. To let go name, title, and property requires an extraordinary inward richness; it means freedom from outward things; you can let them go only when you have something real in yourself. You do not let them go for the simple reason that the property is you, the title is you, the name is you; this means the sensory things are you. The moment you do not identify your name, do not give a name to that feeling of being lost or being nobody, it comes to an end. Then the property will drop away and you will not care two pins. So, the emphasis is not on property - which the Communist, the Socialist, or the Capitalist is emphasising - but it is on the significance property has for you. When you have inward riches, property does not matter; and there can only be inward riches when you do not name the feeling; through that door you find the imperishable. The man who is talking about the imperishable and is naming his feelings is a hypocrite. It is only when you do not name your property, acquisitiveness will cease to be. Then, you will know the difference between the needs and acquisitiveness. You need food, clothing and shelter. But, when you seek psychological satisfaction through property, name or title, they are no longer needs but become potent factors in making you more and more ruthless in acquisitiveness. From this, you will see that only when you would understand the whole significance of not naming feelings in relation to title, property and relationship with others, and when you do not name such feelings in your daily life, there will be a rich transformation within yourself whereby you will bring about a creative society. On the last occasion, we found that the conflict of the opposites is really fallacious, because the opposite is the non-existent, which has been created from 'what is'; and that the becoming into something other than 'what is' is the oppo- site; we also discussed the whole significance of terming a feeling, the reaction to a challenge, and that from that naming there are a series of reactions and in these reactions we get lost. So, the becoming is the conflict. Then the naming of the feeling is perhaps wrong because the feeling is new but it is put in the framework of references, thereby interpreting the new feeling through the framework of old references and therefore misinterpreting the feeling. If I had not termed it perhaps I would have a different reaction to the feeling, and the feeling may then subside. A feeling which is termed, whether unpleasant or pleasant, can come to an end if you do not name it, then you will see that it withers away. But, is love a feeling which, when not named, will come to an end? We have discussed further about terming a feeling and what effect it has in our daily life. We also discussed about property and what happens if we do not name it. (Then the discussion went back to the question of belief, ceremonies, etc., which had already been discussed in detail, as these questions were brought up again by someone present.) You have suggested that, today, we should discuss together the practical steps to be taken by us in our daily life to give expression to the ideas we have hitherto considered, especially in relation to property. Property implies continuity, acquisitiveness, possessiveness, domination, suppression, economic relation between man and man, ill-will, nationalism, war and peace and all the rest of it. We consider practical steps in order to achieve an ideal, to achieve something, to achieve a result. This suggestion implies that what we have been discussing is impractical and that, being only theoretical, they need translation in our daily life through a certain set of regulations or practical ideas. It also implies that we do not understand the implications of that idea in regard to our daily activities now, and that by doing certain practices leading to a particular way of living, you will, in course of time, understand the implications. Let us take, for instance, nationalism. How can you be practical about nationalism? If you understand it and its results in daily life, it drops away from you. You do not become international; you cease to be national and therefore you are a human being. How can you have a practical step to cease to be national? Either we understand nationalism and its implications immediately and it drops away; or we do not understand and we think that, by doing certain actions, we will understand later. We know that nationalism causes separatism, exclusiveness, friction, ill-will and enmity. It acts as a barrier between people and prevents sane living. If I have more than I need of property, names, titles, etc, then they will cause envy. Similarly, if I say I am an Indian, I am a Hindu, and my whole patriotism is given to India, I am exclusive. It is the process of exclusiveness which ultimately leads to war. Or you say that you must go through separation, through nationalism, in order to become international. That is, you must first be a Hindu and yet become brotherly with other people who call themselves by different names. Is that possible? If you call yourself a Hindu and I call myself a German, can we two meet as brothers? You keep your nationality and I keep my nationality; and can we two meet? Obviously we cannot, because we are more concerned with our names than with being really human. So you see the fallacy of saying that through nationalism we can become international though lots of people talk of it. Nationalism in itself is an exclusive process and it is of recent growth caused by competition, economic frontiers, etc. It is not conducive to peace. The more you are national, the more you are identifying yourself with what you call your country in order to be something. If you are nobody you feel rather frustrated. One of the effects of industrialisation is to make you more and more mechanical and less and less important. How can you be more practical if you do not see the significance of nationalism in all its different layers so that it may drop away of its own accord? If you have the intelligence to see that it is a cobra, you do not have to take practical steps to fight it. You just leave it alone. You want to have open relationship with others; you also see that nationalism is a poison which has degenerating effects in human relationship. Therefore nationalism drops away. You may have a little reaction when you hear that India beat Australia in cricket, but it does not become a problem. So, your difficulty lies in seeing the thing clearly without any prejudice. The prejudice has been created by outside agencies as well as yourself. With regard to every subject, you are misinformed, you are badly educated and badly conditioned; and you try to interpret life through this misinformation. When you realize that your information is wrong you immediately put it aside. You like to identify yourself with your country because it gives you a sense of warm feeling which can be whipped up to kill somebody. You become national and you like it because it gives you a warm sense of feeling that you are achieving something. So there are more soldiers, more armies, more dreadfulness. That is what we are achieving and that is not progress. Progress does not obviously lie through bloodshed. There are only six countries, I believe, that can feed themselves; every other country is dependent on somebody else. Therefore, why not destroy all the frontiers and come together as human beings to meet our necessities of food, clothing and shelter? You want to know who is to do this. You and I have to do this. Who else is going to do it? Certainly not the capitalists, certainly not the political party - either the Left or the right - because they are committed. So, who is to do it except those people who see the thing clearly? Nationalism is a modern invention, and it is really non- conducive to peace; it acts as a barrier between people. There is no practical step regarding it; either you see the thing or you do not. Your prejudices stand in the way of your finding it out. You must see the whole significance of the idea of acquisitiveness which is expressed through property, through relationship and through ideation. I am not talking about merely the ethical, the moral or the religious, but the actual process of acquisition and what is implied in it. What are the effects of acquisitiveness? One is nationalism and another is the competition between you and me; another is the moral and social degradation in which is involved the whole idea of division of the high and the low. Psychologically, it is very gratifying to own something; it feeds your vanity, you are somebody then. The effect of acquisition gives you a sense of life, a sense of struggle, a sense of existence. If you do not acquire what are you? You are nobody if you have no title, no property, or no name; and therefore things become important. Because inwardly you are nothing, you wish to acquire, which implies power, prestige, title and all the rest of it. Then, mentally, you want to acquire knowledge. You are anchored to acquisition and you become a mental addict who always reads. A mind that is merely acquiring, ceases to function as an instrument of thought, it inevitably becomes dull without any pliability, it is slavish, it is uncreative, it is repetitive because it is merely acquiring what it calls knowledge. So, acquisition through experience, through memory or through knowledge and all the rest of it, is really a factor that dulls the mind and cripples thinking. To think, you must be free and not be anchored to acquisition, to property or to belief. You may have no property, but mentally you may be anchored to acquisition, a mental addict who reads and reads. You should understand the significance of acquisition which is expressed in property, which does not mean that you must not have a little money, especially as the society around you is based on money. Some property, i.e. food, clothes, and shelter, is necessary for you and you must have it; but it should not become a psychological need. When you understand the significance of acquisitiveness, it is very simple to deal with property. You may prevent, by legislation, the acquisition of property; but people may still be acquisitive in some other direction, which may be equally disastrous, like knowledge which gives one an extraordinary sense of superiority. What is the practicability wanted here? The problem is how to give up the property or how to arrange the property to suit your convenience. You can only deal with it when you understand the full significance of it. What is your attitude to property? Are you depending on legislation with regard to your conduct toward property? The world is confused; and the more it is confused, the more the individual wants security, i.e. you want to be secure. This leads to conflict in you as well as outside you. This conflict will cease only when you understand and are aware of the significance of acquiring property; then there will not arise the question of how you will escape from the conflict. There are various forms of relationship - such as relationship with things which are considered to be property, relationship to the bank account, relationship to law which sustains the property; and the relationship to human beings. The relationship to human beings is more difficult and more subtle; and the difficulty arises when there is no love. Love cannot be learned through Pelmanism, through practice, or through following some steps. If there is love, you will understand relationship; love will then show the way out of this horrible mess of husband and wife and relationship between man and man. Why don't we love? What is preventing us from loving? If you can find out the cause, perhaps you may know how to love. Love is not something abstract, but it is an extraordinary sense of intelligence, a heightened form of intelligence. If you are intelligent then perhaps there will be love. Why is it that the relationship between man and man has become so difficult? It may be because they are not dealing with it intelligently and they do not know what intelligence is. Perhaps you can find out what intelligence is, negatively. My relation with you is society. The society is non-existent without you and me. The group is you and me; you and I create the whole structure of society. When we examine the relationship between one another now, we find there is conflict. Average existence is a conflict. To deal with this conflict intelligently, I must examine the relationship as it is and not as I would like it to be. I notice conflict in my relationship with my wife. To understand this, I must, first of all, know if I am related at all. If I am related, there should be communion, exchange of feeling and thinking out of the problem together. To be is to be related. I have taken it for granted that I am related to my wife; perhaps I am not. There is no real contact with her so I remain isolated. Yet, I think I am in relationship with her; and so, 'relationship' may be merely an expression or a term without any meaning because if I am related to her, it will have a different meaning. Can two entities in isolation live together? If my whole motive is to be self-protected, is there any relationship? So, the problem is not that I do not love her or she does not love me, or she dominates over me; but perhaps she and I are not related for the very simple reason that she is exclusive in herself and I am exclusive in myself. That is our daily activity - I with my interests and my purposes and she with hers. We say we are related, but we two are working exclusively in ourselves. Therefore the next question is: why am I doing it? It is suggested that common interest brings about communion. Is it so? You and I are interested in education, we both have common interests and we belong to the same society. We meet in the temple; but, in the market, we cut each other's throat. Why does each one of us, in our relationship with one another, try to isolate oneself? Is this inevitable in the sense of a rose becoming a rose? Is this process natural? If it is natural or inevitable, then there is nothing more to be said about it, and there will be constant conflict between you and me; there will be no peace between you and society, between you and myself. If it is inevitable, there can never be love, not a moment of complete quietness between us. We know of moments when there is creation, though such moments are rare. Creation takes place not in conflict but only when the conflict ceases, when there is silence, when there is a sense of fullness. So, we find that the conflict is not inevitable. We have now to understand why we isolate ourselves in relationship. It is said in all religious literature that, to find God, you must withdraw and be alone. When you seek God, Reality, Truth, you are alone not because you want to be alone but because a lot of stupid people around you force you to be alone. You say nationalism is wrong, Brahmanism is wrong, etc.; but society will not accept all this because it does not like to change. So, though you do not push yourself away from it, the society pushes you out and then says that you must be alone to find out Truth. Nobody can be alone; he is always in relationship with the person who gives him food. He is alone only in repudiating the faiths and refusing the things which society accepts. So, it is a wrong conclusion leading to illusion, that you must be alone to find God. I now see that I would be acting falsely if I am isolating myself because society has been telling me that I should be alone to find Reality. On examining further, we find that one of the reasons for exclusion is labour, functional existence. We are isolating ourselves according to function. Functions have become very important in our life for the very simple reason that our life is based on sensate values. Through functions, I am isolating myself because I have divided life into categories of functions, higher and lower, like minister and scavenger, etc. Why are we isolating psychologically? I am living in isolation and my whole struggle is to live in more and more isolation. I live with my neighbour and he is also doing exactly the same as I am doing. I know that isolation is not an inevitable process. Then why do I psychologically isolate myself? My strife is to protect myself. Similarly you are protecting yourself. This means mutual self-protection for avoiding a conflict. But, we have not understood self-protection. After all, any enclosure, psychological or physical, is self-protection, is isolation. I put a wall around myself, psychologically, for the obvious reason to protect myself. The more I try to protect myself, the greater the isolation, the greater is the conflict. Protecting myself by putting a wall psychologically around me creates a barrier. You have a wall around you and I have a wall around me and we keep on strengthening our respective walls. When you and I thus come in contact, what will be our relationship? The more I am enclosed in myself the more violent I become, the more aggressive I am; similarly you. To have right relationship, this barrier of psychological enclosure around each one of us has to be pulled down. Obviously, as I cannot do anything with others, I must first start with myself and set about to pull down the enclosure which I am putting up around me for self-protection. MADRAS 28TH GROUP DISCUSSION 23RD DECEMBER, 1947 Relationship, as it exists now, is one series of conflicts, giving in at one time and getting upset at another time and so on. It is a constant battle between yourself and your wife, between yourself and society, a constant friction, maladjustment, struggle and contradiction between two people. We are not discussing what should be the ideal form of relationship. The ideal is a real curse because it really prevents you from understanding what is; if you accept and work towards an idea, you merely conform, without understanding the significance of relationship; you do not understand what your relationship actually is and what it means. Are you at all "related", you and your wife, or your neighbour and yourself? Though you live together and have children though you wrangle and fight, is there any "relationship" between you and your wife? If you examine yourself, you will see that your whole intention,your whole pursuit, is an isolating process. Each one is isolating himself or herself, in possession, in name, in power, in money; each one builds a wall around oneself and says "I am related". We look over the enclosing walls occasionally when it is suitable and convenient; but, most of the time, we lurk behind the walls. This process of isolation is considered "relationship"! In daily life, we are isolating ourselves by our activities; we are separating ourselves through function - the bank clerk and the manager, the labourer and the executive, the priest and the bishop, the man in the street and the rich man, the ignorant and the learned, and so on. We are constantly erecting enclosing walls around ourselves, and yet we try to be "related". When there is this constant erection of walls and isolation, conflict is inevitable. The more one is enclosing, the more the struggle and the violence. Is this isolation by the erection of the enclosing wall a natural process like the fall of an apple from the tree, or is it the result of influence by society? You are now aware that you are building the wall. Having built and being caught in the process of building the wall, your intelligence says that you should be rid of this wall. To get rid of this wall, you must first find out why you are building the wall. If you understand the truth of this, you do not have to 'struggle not to build' and you will never build the wall again. Is this isolation a form of self-protection? Is self-protection natural? Obviously it is. If you do not protect yourself in regard to food, clothing and shelter, there may be no existence at all. Physically and biologically, there must be self-protection against rain, against sunshine, etc. But, when that self-protection becomes a psychological necessity, then it becomes exploitation and all the rest of it. When your neighbour and yourself are each behind his own wall, how can you understand each other? Why do you erect these separating walls psychologically? How will you get rid of these walls? First of all, you are aware that you are building walls, psychologically, around yourself. Then, you enquire if such building is natural, instinctive and therefore inevitable. You do not protect yourself psychologically to be safe outwardly - name, property, bank account, etc.- but in order to be safe inwardly, in order to give you an assurance of self-protection inside. Some protection of you outwardly, in the form of food, clothing and shelter, is necessary; but you increase the protection of yourself outwardly in things in order to be secure inwardly. Because you are inwardly incapable of protecting yourself and therefore inwardly uncertain, you depend on outward things. You can only protect yourself inwardly with ideas, values which the mind gives with regard to things made by the hand or made by the mind. Also, you can only protect yourself in relation to an outside object. You have no inward actions or perceptions which are apart from outward things and which would render outward things as of no significance. There is no inward protection by itself. What is the nature of the enclosing wall around you, which gives you psychological protection in relation to your neighbour, your wife and your society? The wall you build around yourself psychologically consists of the values you give to things made either by the hand or by the mind, i.e. of your ideation. These values are merely the outcome of the pleasure or the pain felt by you through your senses, i.e. the outcome of sensory values. They have no substance behind them except the significance or value you give them. In protecting yourself outwardly, you say you can use the outward things to protect you inwardly. You can use property as a means of psychological protection. Property in itself is just a piece of land which can give you food; you give that property a significance which it has not, and with that significance you protect yourself. So, the trouble does not lie in outward things which are all made by the hand or by the mind. The trouble is because you use those things as a means of self-protection; and therefore, you give to them values which they do not possess and, with those values, you are inwardly protecting yourself. The fact is that those values in themselves are non-existent but are merely created by your mind. Therefore, the outward things made by the hand and the beliefs made by the mind become extraordinarily important and you cling to them both because, with the values you give them, you protect yourself psychologically. What an extraordinary transformation you have made in yourself! Things made by the mind are illusory because they, beliefs, can project themselves into visions and experiences - you believe or you like to believe in the Master, and you can experience the Master. It is very simple; you want to see a vision and you see a vision, pleasant or unpleasant. It is all the projection of the mind. So, you have discovered from this process that, through sensory perceptions, you are protecting something which is not sensory, something which you do not know. What are you protecting behind your enclosing wall? Protecting implies that there is something which can be protected. In other words, what is that something which you are trying to protect by your values with regard to things made by the hand or by the mind? Is there anything behind the wall? You are building and erection of valuations; what is behind that wall of valuations? To enquire if there is anything behind the wall, what is the instrument with which you are enquiring? The instrument is the outcome of the things made by the hand or by the mind, which is the wall. To find out what is behind the wall, you have to climb over the wall or go through the wall. What are you protecting with extraordinary care everyday, struggling, cheating ruthlessly, brutally, violently, deceitfully and cunningly? When you say you are protecting your- self, you are merely protecting the wall which you have built up. So your consideration is how to strengthen the wall and not to protect something. To find out what is behind the wall, the wall must cease. You do not know what is behind the wall and therefore you are not protecting the thing behind the wall, but only the wall which you know, which is your valuation. The positive value is the wall; you do not like that and you would like to be something else. When you are talking about protecting you do not know what you are protecting. But, you do know that the wall exists. So, perhaps you are protecting the wall, because the value is the wall, either positive value or negative value. So, you are keeping a wall, positively or negatively, as a means of protecting; and on enquiring what you are protecting, you do not know. You see the wall only and not the something behind it. Perhaps if you know what is inside the enclosure, it may not be necessary to protect at all; or perhaps there is nothing to protect. Without knowing what is behind the wall, it is absurd your protecting or building a wall. you only know the wall. You do not know anything about protection. Therefore, the word 'protection' has gone out of your thought, and all that remains is the wall, not the idea to protect something. You are not using the word 'protection' any more because 'to protect' means 'to protect something'; and as you do not know that something you are not going to protect. All that you are now left with is the wall and not 'protection'. But the wall is made of the valuation by the valuer. So, the wall is the valuer and the valuation. You are protecting something which you do not know. If you know what you are protecting, that may not need any protection,. So it is a foolish action that you are doing. Therefore, you will neither protect nor destroy; and you are only left with the wall and not with the idea of protection. The wall was created out of things made by the mind; therefore, the mind is the wall. The wall is made out of the mind's tricks and valuations. As the mind is the creator of the values, the values are the mind. What is 'me'? 'Me" is the product of desire in relation to the object of desire. A challenge and the response to the challenge constitute an experience. When the response is con- ditioned, the experience leaves a residue which is memory. 'Me' is 'memories', the accumulated residue of experiences, with which evaluation is made, the sum total of the qualities. So, the 'me' which is protecting the wall, is the wall, i.e. the qualifier evaluating things is the wall. Therefore, the wall is the 'me', the thinker, the thought, the valuation. The 'me', the accumulated residue of experience, is pleasurable in part and painful. The thinker wants to avoid the painful; he finds the thoughts can be changed. So, hoping to be permanent and unchanging, he separates himself from the thoughts and talks of "I change my thoughts", thus playing a trick on himself, because the separation is not real but only fictitious. When attacked, the thinker tries to seek identification with "higher self", and when that is attacked, he identifies himself with Atman, with Paramatman, then with MADRAS 29TH GROUP DISCUSSION 25TH DECEMBER, 1947 We have been discussing the practical ways of dealing with some of the topics which we had considered already. We tried to analyse what we mean by practical steps. Is it a matter of practice, or a matter of understanding? If you understand something, there is no need for practice. If you understand and study the nature and the implications of nationalism, not bringing your prejudice and your defence mechanism against it, that very understanding would dissolve the poison of nationalism. We also discussed the practical steps with regard to our relationship with property - not only land but name, title, degrees, alphabetical letters before and after one's name - and how property becomes of enormous significance, when inwardly, psychologically, there is poverty of being. Then we discussed relationship with persons - between you and me, you and your wife or husband - whether you are 'related' or whether merely 'relationship' is a term without much significance. We started with the examination of "relationship" as it is now and not of what is should be. We found that relationship is conflict though that conflict is neither necessary nor inevitable. We also found that this conflict in relationship was due to each one striving for isolation; though you may live with your wife, with your neighbour and with the society, you are really building psychological walls of isolation between yourself and society, between yourself and your family. Though you say you are "related" to your wife and your children what is actually taking place in "relationship" is that you are seeking self-protection by building up walls of resistance, and so is your wife and others. You occasionally look over the walls and call it relationship; but, the isolating walls keep you separate. Is the building of the wall an inevitable law like gravitation? You build the wall to protect yourself, On enquiry, you found that though, physically and biologically, some property - food, clothes and shelter - is essential for your existence, it is not necessary to protect yourself psychologically. Yet you are protecting yourself inwardly by the values which you have given to the things made by the hand (property) or by the mind (beliefs), thus using for your psychological protection only values based on sensory perception. Because of this, things assume an importance or significance which they do not inherently possess, and you, therefore, cling tenaciously to property and belief, even to the extent of dying for them, if necessary. The walls which you protect yourself with are built up of the value which you yourself have given to things. Are you aware that you are creating this wall of detachment around you? You have a certain attitude and I may or may not have that attitude; the very attitude of the teacher and the disciple builds a wall. Similarly, a man of property, a man of possession, or a man of greed, creates a barrier between himself and his servant, between himself and the man who has no title; the man who has title, talks about brotherhood and about avoiding distinctions and so on; yet, he creates a barrier between himself and others. The building of these psychological walls is the very impediment to relationship and is one of the fundamental disintegrating factors in society. One of these isolating walls around you is caste. Your father or his forbears created caste to separate themselves from the rest; probably, biologically, they thought they were superior and did not want to mix up with the rest. We can understand this tendency, because each one of us wants to feel superior. You put degrees after your name to show that you are different from another. You have the desire to be separate, to be superior to others, to be something in words and in name; that is why you are attached to your titles, your property, your name, etc. If all these are taken away from you, you are absolutely nothing. Similarly, your national prejudice is another such wall. As you are inwardly poor, shallow and empty, you seek gratification through things by giving them your own extraordinary values and you therefore cling to them with great tenacity; you therefore build the wall around you and within the enclosure you admit none, not even your son, your neighbour, or the society. In understanding this, you understand that the search for sensory gratification is the cause of creating the enclosing wall. Desire is the builder of the wall - desire for title, for bank account, for property, for family, for beliefs. The 'I' is the product of the desire in relation to an object. How does desire come into being? Perception, contact, sensation and desire. There is a car, then perception of it, then contact with it, then a sensation caused by it, and then the desire which says "How lovely it is! I would like to have it", comes. Desire or craving comes through seeing, touching and feeling. It is the outcome of sensate values, the identification through the senses with the object of the senses. Desire with regard to ideas also follows the same process. You like or you do not like a particular idea. When you like an idea, that idea is pleasing and gratifying to you. The acceptance of an idea or the rejection of an idea is based merely on gratification which is sensate. So, the sensory values dominate and the sensory value is the 'me' dominating the whole - 'I and my property', 'I and my relationship', or 'I and my belief'. Belief is the outcome of the projection of the mind, whether it is the belief in the ultimate Paramatman or Brahman, or in the Higher Self and the Lower Self. When you think about the Atman, it is still thought. The Brahman is still thought. As your belief in Reality, God, Atman, etc. is self-projected, it is sensory. Therefore, 'your God' is also sensate; 'your God' is created by you. The implications are tremendous if you admit this; it will mean, as far as you are concerned, the whole collapse of the so-called religious society. So, you see that desire is the outcome of the sensate value; 'me' is the result of desire; 'me' creates, formulates, and fabricates values etc.; the wall that 'me' builds is also of sensate values created by the builder and that whatever the thinker, the actor, the builder, does is always sensory and, therefore, transitory. You now understand how, because your values with regard to property, to relationship and to ideation are all sensory, there is conflict within yourself and chaos in the society around you which is an expression of your inner conflict. You see that your neighbour is like you in many ways and both of you have only sensate values, though you may talk of the Absolute, the Supreme, the Ideal, etc. The result is conflict between you and your neighbour which is society. That is the building of the walls that separate you and your neighbour, your sensory values and your neighbour's sensory values. So, there is no relationship between you and your neighbour; and therefore there is no relationship between you and society. The society is not responsible for you, It passes laws but you are out of it. You fit in when it suits you; and when it does not suit you, you are out of it. Similarly, society uses you as a part of itself when it suits it; it absorbs you as a soldier when there is a war, and thrusts you into it, and you accept it. Thus, there is mutual exploitation. You know now how conflict arises by your building your wall of sensate values. You also know that the builder of the wall is the 'I' which is itself the outcome of desire. As long as the 'I' is satisfied with the wall, there is nothing and the 'I' feels absolutely safe inside the wall. Most of you are in this state and you crave to remain undisturbed, each behind his own wall. Therefore, in your present state of psychological enclosure behind the wall of your sensate values, your talk of brotherhood has no meaning whatsoever. Your cravings, your desires, inevitably cause you suffering. When you suffer, you feel disturbed. There is a breach in the wall, there is an enquiry, there is a storm. When you suffer, you try to forget and to avoid that very suffering by building another wall, a wall of belief, or the religious book or the temple, or the Master or some other means of escape. What happens when the 'thinker' is avoiding pain? The 'thinker' does not want to feel pain or to be disturbed. He hopes to be the permanent and enduring entity behind the wall; and, therefore, he separates himself from the wall, i.e. from the thought, i.e. from the desire. He then attempts to change his desires and his thoughts; he desires a house, he desires a quality, and ultimately he desires God. Objects of desire can be changed and the thinker is behind the wall feeling he is always permanent. The 'thinker' and the 'thought' are now two different things because the 'me', i.e. the thinker, is the permanent entity, the other is impermanent; the 'me' is secure, the other is insecure; and the 'me' can play with the secure as much as it likes. If the thinker identifies himself with the 'thought', then, in changing the thought, he becomes impermanent - which he does not like. Therefore, the 'thought' is considered as separate from the 'I'; when the 'I' is attacked a little more, the 'I' divides itself into the higher and lower; and when the higher is attacked, the 'I' retreats further high, and becomes the Paramatman. There is always in the 'thinker' a sense of permanency, a sense of continuity. This is what is happening in daily life. When your property is taken away, you retreat to some other permanency, to relationship; and when that goes, you turn to something else, a little higher; and so on, you always remaining, and the objects being higher and higher - which is your relationship to God or 'I am God'. The discussion which we have had so far, has revealed to you the process of your thinking so that, without deception, you can see what you think and how you act in relation to property, in relation to your wife and in relation to society. All these three are sought by you in order to safeguard yourself. Because you think you are separate from your thoughts and desires, you are all the time seeking permanency by changing your thoughts and your desires through legislation, through practices, through discipline, through systems and so on. But as has been stated already, whatever you 'the thinker' may do, it is always sensory and therefore impermanent. You now realise that neither legislation nor belief nor discipline will alter the 'me'. According to environmental influences the 'me' can change the thought, can become a communist when it suits 'me', or a capitalist, or a socialist, or a religious person. Thus, unless the 'me' who is the mischief-maker is tackled and transformed, the 'me' will always create havoc in relationship with property, with family, and with ideas. The transformation of the 'thinker' will be radical, and not merely superficial, only when the separation of the thinker from the thought ceases. You suggest that the thinker and the thought are now separate and they should be brought together. This suggestion is wrong because it is based on a non-reality. The 'I' is not actually separate from the thought. It was a clever trick on the part of the 'I' to separate from the thought which is impermanent, assuming its own permanency. This is fictitious. The moment the 'I' realises that it has played the trick on itself, the trick is gone and the thinker is the thought. To sum up, the 'I' is made up of many memories. The memories are the result of desire; the desire is the result of perception, contact, sensation, identification, which is the 'me'. So, the 'I' which is the product of desire, cleverly separates himself from the desire and does something about it, because, he can always change desires, and yet he can remain permanent. That is a clever trick that he is playing upon himself with a view to entrenching himself in continuity. This is the cause of the inner conflict in each individual and of the chaos which exists in the world at present; this state of affairs will continue till the trick is gone. The 'I' does not see the falseness of the trick which he has played upon himself, because when he realises the falseness of the trick, he will come into conflict with everybody. Most of you agree with what we have discussed so far in regard to the falseness of the trick played by the mind on itself; yet you have not seen the real depth of this problem and, therefore, it has not brought about clarification and transformation in you. You accept this in your superficial consciousness but the deeper layers of consciousness are putting up a tremendous inward resistance to this acceptance. Is this because you are isolated or sleepy? You are not isolated and sleepy but very awake with regard to things that matter - money, passion, enjoyment and so on. You have deliberately become sleepy to things which are disturbing to you, or which you do not want. This means that you are awake in one part to things you like and asleep in another part to things you do not like. All the present conflict is the result of this partial awakening. Because one part of you is isolated and the other part is active, there is chaos created in yourself and this chaos is projected outside. This is the major portion of your existence. Nothing distracts you from the pursuit of pleasure; but whenever you apprehend any shock or suffering you promptly try your best deliberately to shut it off from you and to avoid it. That is why you do not look at this problem seriously though you verbally agree. Who is going to make you look? Can legislation, government, education, the ideal or any other outside agency make you look? Therefore, suffering comes to you as a warning. But every time you have suffering and sorrow, you look on it as a disturbance and try to avoid it so as to continue in the same old state; this sort of action on the part of the mind has made your life one series of conflicts to avoid "what is". To be aware of how the mind is playing the trick upon itself, is the beginning of understanding. The moment you are aware of it, you invite trouble - and there is joy. MADRAS 30TH GROUP DISCUSSION 27TH DECEMBER, 1947 These discussions are really meant to be a means of self-knowledge, to discover ourselves are we are talking - not afterwards but as we go along step by step -and to experience directly what is being said, so that we could relate what we are talking to our daily life. We were discussing the idea of separating ourselves in our relationship, how we are building walls of isolation and thinking we are "related" to each other; how the sensate values become predominant when money, property, things are used as a means of isolation; how in relationship between you and another - which relationship creates the society - there is conflict ; that this constant battle between you and me and between you and society is due to our merely looking at each other over the walls of isolation, which we have deliberately built in order to isolate ourselves as much as we can; that this isolation is a form of self-protection, and that these walls are built by the 'me', the thinker who is not really different from the thought, though we have taken it for granted that thought is separate and that the thinker remains aloof and transforms thought. We also discussed why we do not see the depth of such a serious problem as the thinker and the thought are one, whether it is because we are asleep, or because we don't want to go deeply into the matter, as, if we do it will mean a revolution in thinking and therefore in action. If the thinker and the thought are one, the thinker has to alter himself fundamentally, and not merely the frame of his picture which is thinking. So, the thinker plays an insidious and clever trick on himself and separates himself from the thought and then does something about thought. To discuss this, you must find out what desire is and how desire or craving arises. Desire comes through perception, contact, sensation and identification. So there is the 'me', the person who chooses. The 'me', the thinker, is born our of desire, and he does not exist previous to desire. In your everyday experience, the thinker is separate from the thought, i.e. the thought is outside you as it were, and you can do something about it, you can modify it and recondition it. Is the thinker really separate from the thought? How does the 'thinker' come into being? You are the result of your father and mother. How did you begin to think and feel as a child? You wanted milk, there was a sensation of hunger; then the contact with the bottle or the breast, and the struggle to feed, to grow, and then the toy, the impingement of society on the mind, and gradually, the 'I' comes out. Therefore, it is perception, sensation, contact and the desire from which is 'my mother,' 'my toy,' which grows to 'my bank account', 'my house', and so on. So the thinker, the 'me' comes through perception, contact, sensation and desire from which arises consciousness; the thinker then separates himself, for his own further security, as the high and the low, the high becoming the Paramatman and the low becoming this existence. When this existence is threatened, the thinker can always retire into the more permanent. You are the sum total of all the human existence. As you are a Hindu, you are the result of all Hindus; you are the result of your father, not only biologically, but in thought, in your beliefs, and so on. The 'I' comes into being through desire; then the 'I' feels established and creates the desire which is outward, the desire and 'I' thus becoming two separate entities, which means that the thinker and the thought are separate. Craving continuity, the thinker separates himself from the thought, and thinks that thought is changeable, modifiable, can be destroyed and replaced. If the thinker is the thought, then the thinker also can be changed, which means he has to admit his impermanency - which he does not like. All our actions in society are based on the idea that the 'I' is the permanent and the thought is the impermanent. We know very well the impermanency of matter. Property can be taken away from you when Communism comes, or when you lose it by speculation. Because thought is seeking permanency, it says "I will go to a higher level of consciousness or a deep level which is my belief, which is my God", and goes higher and higher to be more and more permanent. When this trick is understood, it is gone, and the thinker and the thought are one. Then, there will be a revolution in our daily life. You admit that the thinker and the thought are one and yet there is no change in your way of living. Why? Either you are asleep which means you don't want to be disturbed, or there is an inward resistance. Now, how can we dissolve the resistance? Not by overcoming it, not by disciplining it away, but by understanding it. The moment you understand it, it drops away. What do you mean by resistance? You accept the idea on the superficial layer of your consciousness and the rest of your consciousness is resisting it. You are resisting any change. That is, you are resisting the acceptance of 'what is'; 'what is' is that the thinker and the thought are one. You superficially say "Yes", but the rest of your consciousness is resisting it, because the unconscious sees the tremendous implications in the acceptance of 'what is'. You are afraid to lose yourself - yourself meaning your property, your status now, your belief and your son. So you are resisting in order not to lose what you are protecting, in order to guard it. This means you are resisting the destruction of ideas, relationship and things made by the hand or by the mind; you are resisting the dissolution of the identification with things, with name, with property, and so on. The house, the property, is the value which the mind gives; otherwise the house has no meaning; and things made by the mind are also the values given by the mind. You are afraid that, by not identifying with the valuations of the mind, there will be an end; and so, you are resisting their end or destruction. You are defending the valuations which you have created, lest they should be destroyed; the valuations are created through desires, which is the mind. So, you are resisting the destruction of valuations which have come into being through thought, the thought being the result of the desire - i.e. the desire creates the thinker, the thinker evaluates and then offers resistance to the destruction of those things which he has built up. So the thinker is resisting 'what is' and the impingement of new desires. The values are created by the mind whether of things or of ideas. So, it is afraid to lose the valuation which it has created and to which it is attached. You bring a new idea and the mind does not want to have it because it is disturbing the things which it has already built. The thinker is resisting, not with things but with ideas which are transitory in themselves. So, your resistance is transitory. You are resisting the dissolution of valuations which are thoughts and thought is transitory. Things have no significance except what the mind gives; in their very nature they are transitory; and yet the mind clings to them and to the significance it gives them. In other words, the thinker creates evaluations and then, in examining them, finds that these evaluations are transitory, and that he is resisting the destruction of the transitory because he is seeking permanency in them. In other words, you recognise that they are all impermanent and yet you are seeking permanency in them because, by your valuation, you have given them permanency. When you recognise the absurdity of giving permanency to things which have no permanency, it drops away - just as when you know that all the banks are bad, you don't go to any bank. All things made by the hand or by the mind are in their very nature transitory because the mind alone gives values to them, transitory for the simple reason that thought is transitory and thought is the thinker. Now, you, the thinker, are asking,"Is there permanency?" because it is what you want. You are the result of desire which is impermanent. The impermanent is asking to find out the truth of permanency. The mind which has been seeking permanency has vested permanency in things made by the hand or by the mind, and it finds that they are impermanent; and yet it says it must have permanency. Can the impermanent find the permanent? If I am blind can I see the light? If I am ignorant can I know enlightenment? There can only be enlightenment when ignorance ceases. The transitory cannot find the permanent; it must cease for the permanent to be. The person who is seeking permanency is obviously impermanent; you cannot say he is permanent. He is the outcome of transitory desire and therefore, in himself, he is transitory - which he does not acknowledge. Property is impermanent. Relationship is impermanent. Belief is impermanent. Therefore, seeing everything around as impermanent and as transitory, the mind says that there must be something permanent, though there is no inherent permanency. Your permanency is born out of impermanency and is therefore the opposite of impermanency; therefore it has the seed of its opposite which is transitory. When you treat impermanency as impermanent then there is nothing; but when you are seeking permanency as an opposite to transitory, the permanency itself is transitory. So you are resisting the acknowledgment of the fact that whatever you do, think and feel is impermanent, though you know very well that they are impermanent. This is another trick of the mind. So, you recognise the trick that the mind is seeking permanency in opposition to the transitory - namely that whatever you do is impermanent; and yet you are seeking permanency. Being transitory yourself, you can never find permanency, because you will evaluate "permanency" and all your valuations are transitory. the impermanent can never find the permanent. When you realise this, you do not seek permanency through things, through relationship and through ideas. Therefore, there is no valuation and you accept them at their level. Therefore you have no conflict with them. There is a great relief if the mind is not giving values of permanency to things which have no permanency. If you say property, family and things are necessary but not as a means for permanency, then there is no conflict. It does not matter who owns the house; you use it merely as a means of protection, not as a means of self-expansion through the search for permanency. Therefore the mind, the 'thinker' as the 'evaluator', is non-existent. When the thinker ceases to create value, perhaps something else will come into being. But, as long as the thinker exists there must be the evaluation. His values are impermanent. Therefore, if the thinker is seeking permanency, he must cease, because he is the mischief-maker and is reducing to chaos the relationship with society and with property. So your problem then is how the thinker can come to an end, how the thinking process can end. Someone says that there will be no progress at all if the thinker ceases to exist. The word "progress" was first introduced by the industrialists in the eighteenth century in England because they wanted to make the people buy more. Progress means time. Through time, do you understand anything? You can only understand now, not tomorrow. Therefore, understanding is independent of time. So, how is the thinker to come to an end? If he does, life becomes extraordinarily marvellous and there is no conflict with things. As the thinker is the result of desire, this means that desires must come to an end. Can desire come to an end? What do you mean by desire? Perception, contact, sensation and desire. "I must have " food, "I must have" clothes, "I must have" shelter. Those are imperative 'musts'; though there are certain desires involved in them, they are necessary. But the desire or the craving for things, for family, for name, for beliefs must cease. If it ceases, what will happen to my relationship? Desire is the very expression of attachment. When I use my wife as a means of psychological necessity, then there is attachment; when she helps me to cover up my loneliness, then I am attached. Then, she is mine. Similarly, belief becomes necessary when I am attached to it, whether it is belief in religion, or belief in an economic system. So desire can come to an end only when there is no attachment. And can I live in the world without attachment? Obviously I can. The moment I am attached it is an indication of desire - desire which is impermanent and which creates the thinker who evaluates. It is only when it ends, that you can find out if there is permanency or not. Without that, any talk of belief is puerile. I have shown you how to stop thinking. If thinking ceases, then there would be a great quickening, and a revolution would take place inside you. MADRAS 31ST GROUP DISCUSSION 30TH DECEMBER, 1947 To love one another is one of the most difficult things, because there is in it always the shadow of pleasure and pain. In it there is always the sensual memory with its incessant gnawing either of yesterday's picture or of tomorrow's delight. There is always a sense of frustration, a sense of unpleasant existence; there is never a moment of complete love, of complete communion with another. Have you ever felt this sense of an extraordinary physical resistance as well as psychological impediment in loving another, when there is really no openness between two people? Surely, there can be only love when there is this sense of complete communion with another. There is no way to love. You cannot buy it, nor can you barter it away for something else; love must be really felt and lived, and it comes into being when this pleasure and pain, when this sense of frustration, when this sense of demanding fulfilment in another, when this sense of the "me" and "my pleasures" ceases; and that is one of the most difficult and arduous things. We can be sentimental over love; but that is not love. In loving one, you will love the whole of humanity. The idea of loving everybody has very little meaning if you don't know how to love one, your child, your husband, your wife, your neighbour. After all, the one is the whole. The idea of cosmic love and loving mankind is really a rationalisation of the lack of love in one's heart for another. It is an easy escape of the reformer, of the humanist, of the moralist and of the righteous. Our trouble is that we really do not know how to love one another. We know when we love somebody with all our being. It is surely a shattering experience because it implies a letting down of all barriers. It is worthwhile discussing the problem of duality, in which is implied pleasure and pain, resistance and non-resistance, merit and demerit, the desire for fulfilment, the desire to have an example or an ideal, the desire to imitate, the problem of resistance, meditation etc. Is there the opposite? Are we aware of the opposites and when? When you crave for something, there is always resistance. In gaining it, you must resist other encroachments and other influences. You must build around you a wall in order to gain what you want. Others also may want the same thing: and so, you must resist them. So, in craving for something, there must be resistance. You desire power. In setting out to achieve power, you desire to acquire position, prestige and all the implications of power. In this craving for achievement, there is inherently the state of 'not-achieving' and fear of 'not achieving'; this means resistance. Thus, every craving for something creates its own opposite, its own resistance. Let us take attachment and detachment. Being attached, you find pain and strife in attachment; and in order to overcome that pain and strife, you say 'I must be detached.' It is really the pain that comes out of attachment that you want to get rid of; only, you call it detachment. But you never question why you are attached. If you understood what attachment is, then you would not proceed to detachment. Attachment may be the outcome of frustration. You are attached to your house, name, wife. Inwardly, you are frustrated, you are not fulfilling, you are not complete. Therefore, the house, the family and the name become all important, to which you become attached; and when they cause you pain, you wish to 'develop detachment'. But still, the inward frustration, emptiness, poverty, continues. We treat detachment and attachment as opposites, because we do not really understand the process of detachment. You have to understand what is implied in being held to something. In the very desire to achieve anything, there is the seed of its own opposite. In the process of 'becoming', achieving, gaining, there is always the 'conflict of the opposites', because the very desire to 'become something' creates its own opposite. In 'becoming' there is always the dual; in 'being' there is no duality. When you are angry, there is no duality at the moment of anger, i.e. you are in the state of 'being angry'. But that 'being angry' creates a disturbance and you don't want to be angry; so you want to 'become peaceful'; this 'becoming' implies the dual. There is no duality in that particular moment when the feeling arises; duality is only found after that feeling has been termed; there is the time-factor involved in it. If there is no 'becoming', there is no duality with all its conflict, the time-factor, the whole sense of frustration and all the rest of it. For example, you are angry; you find anger painful, you think there will be pleasure in 'non-anger'; thus you have immediately created duality; you refuse to understand the full significance of anger, but you pursue its opposite; you want to transform 'anger' into 'non-anger'. Thus, 'becoming' implies a refusal to acknowledge 'what is' and a desire to transform 'what is' into other than 'what is'. The pursuit of an ideal also implies the 'conflict of opposites'. The ideal is something which you are not. You are this and you want to 'become' that which is your ideal. To understand the implications of what you actually are now, your mind must be free and concentrated; but if your mind is thinking in terms of the ideal, then it is distracted by the ideal. What are the implications of 'becoming the ideal'? The ideal is the example to be followed, and 'becoming' the ideal means imitation. Supposing you are arrogant, your ideal is humility. The ideal is created by your not understanding 'arrogance' which is the 'what is'. Humility is the example which you are going to become. The example means imitation. So, in becoming, in achieving the ideal, there is coping which means only imitation and no thinking. when you have an ideal there cannot be thinking; there is merely the achievement of 'becoming that ideal'. In your daily life, you are full of ideals; which means you are not thinking but merely imitating. In 'becoming', there is imitation, copying and therefore the cessation of thinking, feeling, living; and therefore, the idealists are the most thoughtless, brutal and ruthless people; and to them systems are more important than man. Hitler was said to be a great idealist. In yourself, you can see the truth of this when you pursue an ideal. You have the ideal of Brahmacharya; then you just leave you wife and go. When you have an ideal of a perfect state, the proletariat or the right, you see how ruthless you are bound to be in achieving that ideal. The ideal, for example, is the authority, whether it is imposed by another or by yourself inwardly, therefore, there is cessation of thinking and there is fear. All your social structure, all you education, and all your relationship are based on imitation. Your judgement and your thought is based on avoiding 'what is'. Look at what is happening in society. corruption, degradation and so on. Why do you not tackle all this directly, instead of saying that through an ideal you must become marvellous? It is the thoughtless man who is asleep and who is imitative, that wants an ideal, because he has to whip himself up to become something. But the man who is learning, watching and feeling things, does not require an ideal; he is active where he is. So, in 'becoming' there is the denial of 'what is', the denial of what you are, i.e. your 'being arrogant'. And in 'becoming humble', which is the ideal, you must find out how to become that. "How" is the imitative process. You go to a Guru for help, in which there is implied authority and fear. So, 'becoming' implies imitation and therefore no creativeness at all. Look at the society, look at us, how thoughtless as are! We are marvellous in passing examinations and nothing else. A man who is 'becoming' can never find Reality because he is not understanding 'what is', but wants to transform 'what is'. Why should any man 'become the ideal' when he is what he is? By understanding 'what is', perhaps a new thing will come into being. So, an ideal is really an impediment; the example is a horror to a creative man. When you want to write a poem and when you are imitating Keats, you cease to be a poet. But when you are really creative and you really want to write a poem, you don't care two pins about Keats as the ideal. That is why you need revolution of a fundamental, deep and psychological nature to free you from imitation, from the ideal; because it is only when you are free, you can be creative. When you are aware of the implications of 'becoming' which creates the ideal and which creates the example, it drops away. This means facing 'what is' and living very dangerously, sailing in uncharted seas and being very alert and awake all the time. You say that others will exploit you. If you are intelligent, you are not exploited by others, nor do you want to exploit others. You cannot be exploited by another unless you both belong to the same club. There is, at present, chaos in most of the countries and a revolution is taking place - economic, social as well as religious. This revolution is thoughtless and mostly chaotic. Why not acknowledge this? At least those people who are intelligent can really think it all out and deliberately bring about the necessary revolution and thus lay the foundations for a new culture. A house that is crumbling must be pulled down before you build; in the process of pulling down, it looks rather chaotic and people who look at it from outside may say that it is chaotic; but, the man who is pulling it down is not affected by it, because he knows what he is going to build. If you are concerned with the ideal that humanity must be fed and therefore a system must be found to feed them, the common man will go hungry, and that is the case with the idealists, whether the extreme Leftist or the Rightist, because the system becomes very important. So, there is the obvious creation through false thinking, through ignorance, through wrong thinking, that the opposite, the 'becoming', is going to alter 'what is' and, on that, so many philosophies are founded. You are not concerned in becoming humble; it is futile, it is only one of the tricks of the mind. After all arrogance is the fact. You are arrogant, what is the cause? First of all, why do you name it? Why do you term as arrogance the feeling which you have? You give a name to a feeling that arises in you in response to a challenge, in order to bring it within the frame of reference which is memory. The feeling is new and you absorb that into the old; by giving it a name, you strengthen the old. But if you do not absorb it into the framework of references and do not give it a name, the feeling withers away. Further, the feeling is always the new, though it is out of an old conditioning; if you treat it as new, then you will understand the old. When you are arrogant, arrogance is the effect, and not the cause; it may be the cause a little later. You feel superior and call yourself a name, because you feel a sense of inferiority and you want to become superior. The superiority is the ideal which you want to become and therefore you create the framework of imitation and therefore thoughtlessness and deny 'what is' which is your being inferior. You feel inferior in relationship to something. You want to be something because the whole society in which you live is based on 'becoming' something. And as long as you are 'becoming' you must be inferior. There is always the 'you', a little bigger that 'what is'. If you think you are nobody and if you accept that, you may not strive to 'become' somebody, because that is too silly. So, you don't "become"; you accept that you are nothing. Do you know what it means? When you accept that you are nothing, it is really wonderful. Then, you know what it means to love; then, you are willing to cry with somebody. The man who is something and who wants to 'become the ideal' of loving, and does not know 'what is', is merely thinking in terms of 'becoming' something. He has the ideal, the authority, the fear, the example; and he gets lost in that. The fact is that you are nobody. Why not start from there and face facts directly without trying to become 'somebody'? To face your nothingness means to be humble and to love; it means, you have no resistance to anyone, no barrier between you and the person whom you despise and who has no ideal. A person who is arrogant can never find humility however hard he may try to 'become' humble. A person who does not recognise his nothingness but pursues ideals is like a man who, without ever knowing how to sow, ploughs and ploughs and never sows. Behind all your knowledge, all your degrees, titles and possessions, there is nothing. When you really acknowledge that you are nothing, you are everything because you know what love is. You ask me if there is free choice in the opposite. How can there be free choice? You choose only by comparison, when you have two things; and your choice is based on either pleasure or pain. It means memory which is the accumulation of experience. So, you really are not choosing. There are two things, memory and response; and there is no choice. You may say that you have listened to the dictates of memory. You want to know, 'how to love'. If love is the opposite of hate, ill-will, it is no longer love; love is the ideal which implies imitation; and the man who imitates, cannot know love. Man who is seeking how to love, does not know love. He may seek methods as he has the ideal of love; but he is not loving. He does not want to acknowledge his lack of love, and he says that he has the ideal to become loving, thus deceiving himself and cheating others. "How to love" implies duality, and in the very 'becoming' there is a conflict of the opposites. If he understands the whole significance of the 'becoming' it drops away, and he is faced with 'what is'. 'What is' is the most marvellous thing; it is the only true thing: everything else is not. When he faces 'what is' - i.e. he is lacking in love - and goes deeper and deeper into it, he finds that he is nothing though he has a mask, though he is talking about God and that behind all verbal things intellectually produced there is absolutely nothing. The feeling of nothingness is not the end; it is only the beginning of liberation; your activity will be immediate and very clarifying. You ask me how you can feel as 'nothing' when you are constantly reminded by others that you are something. You are known to be something, as a house-agent, as a black marketeer, or as a religious man worshipping God. Psychologically, you are reminded by others that you are something. You, by yourself, feel and acknowledge that you are nothing; but, society and your friends say that you are something. Either you should be 'nobody' or somebody'. If you acknowledge that you are nothing, no amount of your friends telling you that you are a great man is going to make you believe you are a great man. But when you play with them in the same market, then they will have to remind you, then you will accept them. That is, if you think that you are somewhat great, then their telling you that you are a great man means a lot to you. You want to know what will happen if you feel you are 'nothing' but you are married and have relationships. There is your responsibility to the family; it means immediate communion because you are nothing and she want to be something. Because you are open completely and your wife is not, there is a friction between you and her, not on your part but on her part, because she is something and you are not. You love and you don't ask anything. You really love your wife or your neighbour, or your husband, because you are open. They may be closed and they may create trouble. You become more and more silent, and more and more loving. They may get more and more irritated; but you are not irritated. In other words, relationship becomes extremely difficult. The moment you are very earnest in acknowledging your nothingness, you are going to have difficulties between you and another, between you and society. Your problem is to be that which you are. If you are stupid, cunning, black-marketing, be that. Be aware of it. That is all that matters. If you are a liar be aware that you are a liar; then you will cease to lie. To acknowledge and to live with 'what is' is the most difficult thing. Out of that, comes real Love, because that sweeps away all hypocrisy. Try it in your daily life; be what you are, whatever it is; and be aware of that. You will see an extraordinary transformation taking place immediately. And from that, there is freedom because, when you are nothing, you do not demand anything. That is liberation. Because you are nothing and you are free, there is real opening and no barrier between you and another. Though you are married and though you love one, there is no enclosure. If you love one completely, you love the whole because one is the whole. You want to know what will happen when you feel that you are 'the whole'. Feeling as 'the whole' comes perhaps later. But first, you are nothing and you are not concerned with what comes after. If you are concerned with what is beyond the nothingness, it means you are frightened of being nothing. 'Be nothing'. Life then becomes extraordinarily simple and beautiful. Being nothing, i.e. acknowledging 'what is', is one of the most difficult tasks because mind does not like it, because it is afraid of being nothing, i.e. of having no security. But the moment you 'are nothing', you love; till then, you do not know what it means to love; till then, you have the resistance of responsibility, of duty and marrying off. If you love you wife really, you will love your children. Then you would see how they are to be taught and by whom they are to be taught. Because you love them, you want to see that they are the best human beings, not that you would compel them to any ideal. You do not realise what a revolution this will produce. You want to know if this revolution would be reciprocated. You are not concerned with others at all. If you recognise 'what is' and live with it, you will see a revolution produced in you and therefore in the family and in the world. Surely that is the most practical way of living. Out of that comes creativeness, because when you accept 'what is' - i.e. in accepting what you are - you are free. Then you begin to create. Then there is Reality, God or what you like to call it. All ideals are foolery and without much significance for a thoughtful man. When you set all ideals aside and face 'what is' then you will find a beautiful and really indescribable love that is not yours and mine but a thing that is self-created and which is its own eternity. MADRAS NOTE TO FURTHER GROUP DISCUSSIONS 1947 [The following notes relate to the discussions which some persons had with J.Krishnamurti during afternoons, chiefly as a result of the discussions they had in the morning meetings.] My purpose in discussing various subjects with you is to awaken intelligence in you so that at least some could understand the end-purpose of life and who would devote their lives to seek Reality and keep the flame bright even in my absence. You say that, so far, none of those who have discussed with me, has given up things like motor cars or bank balances, and that a start should be made now by giving up at least really unimportant things like the motor car, so that step by step you would be able to overcome greed. It is not 'practice' or 'progress step by step', which will lead to the cessation of greed. Mortification of the flesh will not lead to it; nor will substitution of one kind by another, nor the interpretation, in the light of past experience, of a new desire for the things of life which have not been experienced before, will lead to the cessation of greed. Greed will cease instantaneously when you have a clear understanding of its true nature. We discussed yesterday the desirability of giving up greed. So long as the mind is after the achievement of a result there is bound to be greed. There is no question of giving up of greed. When there is clear understanding the greed will cease. A mind that is concerned with explanations and conclusions will not be able to see the truth of a problem. If you begin to enquire into the cause then the mind will be led to the examination of those causes and the present state will not be understood. Instantaneous transformation will take place only when you realise and face 'what you are'. [ The discussion was mainly about greed, relationship and authority, and was practically the same as in the group-discussion-meeting held in the morning. At this meeting the full significance of relationship and authority was made clear.] [ The discussion was mainly about education. ] The educator is himself confused and therefore the person taught by him would also be confused. The end always blinds us to the means and it would therefore be necessary to understand first the means adopted for the spread of Education. Understanding of Education is possible only through its results and the means adopted. An analysis was made of the present-day trends in Education and it was stressed that it is no use teaching anyone when the educator does not himself know the end-purpose of life. [ The subject discussed was one which had been discussed at the Morning Group Meeting but the treatment of the subject was different. ] It is necessary to understand the true nature of Meditation. As practised by most of us, meditation is an effort to do something of which you have already an outline, thus forcing the mind along a pre-determined channel. Meditation thus becomes a process by which a pre-conceived result is achieved. This process or system involves a routine and a discipline. This, therefore, hampers freedom. Routine makes the mind mechanical and dull similar to our going to the office day in and day out, regularly on time. To discover the truth of Meditation, you have to proceed from oneself and understand the problem. You are all familiar with the effect that routine has on you. It is because most of your life is merely routine, that you are ever in search for relief through going to cinema, losing temper etc. Again, in following a particular discipline, there is always the implication of authority. Authority can be imposed either from outside like the Police, the Government, etc; or from inside as in the case of our beliefs or our learning through study, or our past experience. In order to find the Truth of authority we have to follow out the element of authority as it makes it appearance. by studying the behaviour of persons known to you and who have been following authority. There are the reference books on all kinds of subjects; and if you read them, you will find that the authors who are experts on those subjects, contradict one another. Therefore, after reading all that they have said, you would feel confused. by studying yourself under authority. If you analyse your own action you will find that you have followed some authority or other when you have found it profitable to do so. You also have rejected equally good authority when the following of such authority was found to be unprofitable. From this it is clear that you generally get interested in what profits you, and you are not willing to get at the truth of authority. Thus, seeking of profit or craving creates authority. By analysing authority. Authority exists outside you in the form of the State with all its various departments, Public Bodies and institutions to which you belong. Inside you it resides in what you have learned or experienced in the past. In both cases - outside you as well as inside you - you accept authority only if you find it agreeable to do so; otherwise you reject the authority. From the analysis of the above three standpoints, you arrive at the truth that craving, or desire for profit, creates authority. You can see the Truth only when you are able to see the false as false. When this is seen you are released for ever from the false. Meditation is really the thinking out of each thought fully and completely so that you see the Truth of that thought. [ At this meeting, a distinctive effect was left by every one present in regard to the state of their consciousness. One and a half hours passed away like a few minutes when all the persons present at the meeting followed and completed each thought, without any effort but with awareness. this was real Meditation when "Time" ceased and the "Timeless" came into being. ] MADRAS 37TH GROUP DISCUSSION 29TH NOVEMBER, 1947 We have already discussed about the various factors involved in meditation, and how meditation as generally practised involved belief in gurus, in tradition or in technique. You follow a technique only when you want to imitate with a view to achieving something. It is only when you know what you want that you can discuss the technique necessary for acquiring the same. If you analyse your thoughts, you will find that you do not really know what you are seeking because at one moment you want something and at another moment another thing. Your mind is a battlefield of various thoughts and desires. Predominantly you feel some pain or some suffering from which you would like to be free. When you seek freedom from such suffering you find that you are restricted by many bondages. Without knowing the nature of those bondages and how they arose, you merely strive to be free from those bondages, which attempt always proves futile. It is therefore necessary for you to be aware that you are bound and what you are bound by - i.e. you must understand and be aware of 'what is'. To understand 'what is' you must give your whole being to it. If you feel any effort in this, then it is an indication that your attention is divided between that understanding and some other distraction. In your daily life, almost everything is a distraction - i.e. rituals, cinemas, radios, enjoyment of the senses, etc. which is mainly due to your thinking in relation to the objects around you. Every thought which is really the result of the past is a distraction. When the mind realises that thinking itself is a dis- traction it also realises the futility of thinking. You have only your mind at your disposal and you have been depending only on it for all your understanding; and now you realise that that too is undependable. MADRAS 38TH GROUP DISCUSSION 1ST DECEMBER, 1947 [ One friend asked whether meditation can be practised for acquiring power, such as clairvoyance, and therefore this subject was taken up for discussion. ] Generally speaking, seeking power takes one or the other of the following forms: Physical: - Power over matter, such as an engine or a motor car. This requires the mastering of the concerned technique. Modern civilisation is based on power which man has acquired by scientific skill to tame nature and to utilize its resources for the benefit of man. Over yourself: - Body - By doing appropriate physical exercise you gain control over your body. Emotions: You can control your emotions and also be able to exercise power over others, over your relatives, through relationship. This is how several of you dominate others through relationship. Mentation. Many of you practice vigorously to exclude various thoughts that arise in your mind in quick succession in the hope that you will be able to have only that thought which you choose. Though the mind will not be creative in this manner, you get some power to arrange your ideas and express them forcefully. Super-sensory. It is also possible to gain powers of a super-sensory nature, such as clairvoyance. As a matter of fact experiments have been made in America to control matter by thought. Actually, by thought, the second-hand of a watch has been stopped from its movement. This shows that there is the possibility of controlling matter, and probably to some extent other individuals also, by means of thought. Asceticism is really the pursuit of power through control of various kinds. Why do you seek power, or domination, over others? Generally this question is approached either a) through utilitarianism - i.e. what use it may be put to - or b) humanism - i.e. whether it will help in the salvation of the ignorant, etc. If you follow the utilitarian idea, then you will be lost in the various uses to which power is put and you will not be able to understand the truth of the problem of why you seek power. Similarly in following the idea of salvation of others, you bring in the question of morality, right and wrong, etc. Morality implies duality - right and wrong, good and bad, etc. Following this approach you will be lost in the various social and religious edicts that are considered desirable to enforce morality, and you forget all about the search for truth of the problem. In order to ascertain the truth of the problem you should not be concerned with the uses to which power is put, nor with morality, as such concern always implies conflict of opposites. You will then find that power is sought for itself because it is gratifying to you. You suggest that power is sought with a view to have continuance of a new desire, to seek fulfilment through things, through relationship and mentation; this indicates that you have attempted to use memory to solve this problem of power because we have previously discussed this question of continuance. As has been stated already, the application of any other idea which we have had before like Communism, Utilitarianism, etc. - to solve our new problem of seeking power - will be a hindrance to the discovery of Truth. If you have intense desire for the search of Truth and if you realise that your mind is conditioned, then you are free of the conditioning. It is only then that your mind is still and free from all distractions. Then you will realise that your seeking of power is essentially due to your attempt to seek fulfilment of yourself through things, relationship and mentation. You seek such fulfilment because you are empty, lonely and insufficient. When the mind realises this, it is empty of all thoughts and is quite still - i. e. there is no thinking. This is really the highest form of meditation. The mind is then fully alert and is ready for creation to take place. Then the mind will be free from 'Time', duality, etc., with- out any effort whatsoever. As has already been stated, any system or practice will surely be a hindrance for the mind to arrive at this state. To sum up, in your search for Truth regarding power, you have realised that conditioning of any kind is a hindrance to discovery of Truth. You have to emphasise not the conditioning but the search. Then, in examining this, you found that the seeking of power is because of your desire for gratification and for filling up your emptiness. Therefore, you must lay the emphasis not on the seeking of power but on understanding the emptiness in you. When the mind thus emphasises the primary issue and not the secondary, and when it follows each thought connected with the primary issue to its conclusion, there is understanding of the problem. MADRAS 39TH GROUP DISCUSSION 3RD DECEMBER, 1947 [ A friend said that she very much desired to give up something which she felt was undesirable but that she could not do so. She wanted this matter to be discussed. For this purpose, another friend suggested the substitution of the thing which she wanted to give up, by something higher and impersonal. The matter was then discussed. ] In daily life there is constant strife in the individual, which wears out his mind. The problem can be enunciated as follows: "I am gossiping: I want not to gossip; but I find it is very difficult." The substitution process will be "I am gossiping; I do not like gossiping; I want to think about something impersonal and bigger - e.g. world problem regarding food." All religions have advocated the substitution process and also have suggested that the mind be kept fully engaged with these substitutions so that there would be no room for gossiping at all. Seeking God all the time is really having the single substitution, God, which will answer all "evil" qualities. In seeking substitution, you follow that substitution without knowing what it is, merely because of your past memory or because of your accepting some authority; and the original problem is left untouched. Even when you have substituting, gossiping does not cease, but is repeated probably at a higher and more refined level. Your whole life is a series of substitutions as can be seen from your ceremonies, your change of religions and religious practices, your change of membership in societies, and your seeking one guru after another, etc. You have to realise that the pursuit of substitution is false. MADRAS 40TH GROUP DISCUSSION 5TH DECEMBER, 1947 You have seen that it is necessary to realise that substitution is a false action. Why do you seek substitution? You are gossiping and you say that you don't want to gossip and therefore you want to give up gossiping. The desire to give up gossiping is really a substitute for the gossiping which is your actual state. A friend said that his ill-health was found to be due to smoking and he gave up smoking immediately. It was pointed out that this giving up was really based on the fear of a breakdown in his health and that even though he gave up smoking he had not really solved the problem of smoking. A habit, however bad it may be, will be continued so long as it is pleasurable and it will be given up the moment it is found to be painful. To be free of habit, you have to understand the problem of habit. Another friend referred to his having given up pooja recently but that the image which he had been worshipping previously, always stared him in the face. This question was gone into and it was pointed out that pooja was really done by that friend with a profit motive - i.e. with a view to gain something, and that it was based upon authority - i.e. the injunction given by some priest that pooja would lead to his gaining the object in view. His desire for change in regard to the performing of the pooja was also probably due to his having accepted another authority. Thus, there has been no understanding, and therefore the giving up of the pooja has not led him anywhere. When there is desire for gain or profit or to achieve a particular result, there is greed. When there is greed, there is no investigation at all because there is always the fear that enquiry will affect the investment that has already been made. When mind is free of all distractions like profit and authority, and when you give over your whole being to the understanding of the pooja and all the implications involved in it, then there will be no problem. MADRAS 41ST GROUP DISCUSSION 8TH DECEMBER, 1947 [ One friend wanted to know how he could solve the various problems that arise in his daily life, and this question was discussed. ] In actual life problems are solved by individuals in various ways. Some people solve their problems one by one as they arise. this process implies that (a) the problems are isolated and are not interrelated, (b) that the individual concerned is asleep and each problem comes and wakes him up - for example, a domestic calamity like the death of a son. When he wakes up, he does something about the problem and then goes to sleep again. There are others who find that when they try to solve one problem, that problem is interrelated with many other problems. They get puzzled because of the arduousness of the attempt and, giving up the attempt to solve the problem, go to sleep. In the case of others, some problems come to them while they are asleep, and wake them up; there are other problems to which they go when they are awake. In other words, they are half asleep sometimes and less asleep at other times. When such a person attempts to solve the problems, he invariably pigeon-holes them under categories and solves them in the light of what he knows already of each such type or category. It is, therefore, necessary to understand the truth of this problem. When you are intelligent, you are fully awake and, in that state, you meet each problem instantaneously and therefore it is not really a problem to you at all. If you are not intelligent or awake, you meet each problem in a half sleepy state and you cannot therefore solve it. This leads to pain and sorrow. When you begin to think about this state, you realise that you are dull and asleep. Therefore in order to get the correct solution of this problem, you have first to find out why you are asleep. The problem now is why you are dull or asleep. Are you dull by nature or have you been made dull by outside agencies? If you believe that dullness is your nature you believe that God has made you dull, as is said by every man of religion. If your dullness is due to outside agencies then you can believe that outside agencies can also make you intelligent - i.e. you can be moulded by environment, by the State. In so doing you will be believing in materialism. In order to know the truth of the matter, you should not identify yourself with either of these approaches, religion or materialism, but you should understand the true nature of the problem by following out the thought completely. MADRAS 42ND GROUP DISCUSSION 10TH DECEMBER, 1947 On the last occasion, we saw the need to understand the problem without identifying ourselves either with the religious or with the materialistic idea. You have to be free from the conflict of the opposites. In fact, the opposite does not exist at all. You should not follow the general practice of either identifying with God or with materialism which is based solely on sensate values. In order to see the true significance of both these approaches, you have to start from the known centre, 'I'. You don't know God but you know only the 'me'. You have therefore to start from the 'me' which is really the result of your senses. Thus you have to give the senses their right place. As was stated already, greed creates the conflict of opposites. Mostly due to tradition and to the manner of your upbringing, you think in terms of opposites. There is a continual conflict of opposites inside you - right and wrong, good and evil, anger and non-anger, arrogance and humility, communism and capitalism, materialism and absolutism etc. This is because you do not know how to view things from the centre,i.e. from the 'me'. Instead of relating every problem to the end-purpose of life, you relate it to one or the other of the opposites, and therefore your life is full of frustration. If you understand this, you will be free of the conflict of opposites. This can be summed up as follows: Thesis versus Antithesis - Communism or Materialism -- Absolutism All sensate values -- God, the Absolute Value Matter and man can be shaped -- Idea moves on matter by environment, by the State Importance of the State -- Sacredness of the individual Totalitarianism -- Individualis The question of duality, the conflict of opposites, has already been gone into fully. As this conflict is wearing you out in your daily life, it is absolutely necessary for you to understand it and thus be free from this conflict. The naming of a feeling - When you contact something with any of your senses you give it a name to capture it, usually adopting the convention already set up. This is done even in the case of the feelings that arise in you though the feeling cannot be contacted by the senses. Therefore the word which is 'sensuous', cannot adequately describe the feeling which is non-sensuous. The word is not the thing. However, to you the word has become important and you interpret your feeling through a word. Therefore you miss the full significance of the feeling. As this is one of the things which you are doing constantly in your daily life, it is necessary for each one of you to realise that it is futile to use words which are sensuous to capture your feelings. MADRAS 43RD GROUP DISCUSSION 12TH DECEMBER, 1947 The purpose you have in view in naming a feeling or applying a term to it, is (i) to convey that feeling to others and (ii) to place it or to pin it up and to recognize it. When applied to objective things, the words are quite apart from the things and you don't interpret those things through the words as you can contact those things directly. In the case of feelings and thoughts, their effect on the body of the person concerned can be seen and felt by others. In order however to convey those feelings to others, the person concerned has to use the words to denote them. When a feeling arises, he names it in order to evaluate according to the frame of references already established in his memory; he thus absorbs it into himself and strengthens the memory, the 'me'. Therefore the naming of a feeling converts it to 'Time', - i.e. continuance - and leads either to the condemnation of a painful feeling or to the identification with a pleasurable feeling. If the feeling is not named, it is not absorbed, therefore it runs its course and then ceases without in any way strengthened the 'me'. In actual life, we always name the pleasurable feelings thus giving them continuance, and we always avoid painful feelings. A man seeking God by avoiding sensate values in still pursuing sensate values, i.e. pleasure on a higher level - just like a drunkard who seeks pleasure in a crude manner and on a lower level. By avoiding painful feelings and pursuing pleasurable feelings he wreaks havoc to society and causes a great deal of harm to others. Similarly, the man who seeks pleasure only in ideation, also causes great mischief to others. You have to understand the implications of this and seriously experiment with yourself by not naming the feelings as they arise in you. What is thinking? You realise that it is entirely a new question and your memory does not furnish any framework of reference with which you could answer this question. There is, therefore, hesitancy or silence on the part of the mind. To the challenge involved in the question, what is thinking, there is no ready response from you because the question is absolutely new. There is therefore a gap between the challenge and the corresponding response. What is the state of mind during this gap? In this state, the mind does not refer to any framework of reference but at the same time it is extremely alert though passive. Therefore, intelligence comes into being; the state of a 'new' mind facing a new challenge can be known by you, though it cannot be verbalised. Let us consider the truth or the inner significance of falling in love in relation to the understanding of what thinking is in the light of our previous action. When you fall in love with a woman, it is a new experience to you. To understand the truth of it you must think rightly. First you realise how all frameworks of references imposed upon you by society (you are old, you are poor, etc), by your relations and by your friends are all hindrances; when you understand them as such, those hindrances fall away. You are free now. When the frameworks from outside of you fall away, intelligence has begun to operate. You want, however, to be sure that it is whole intelligence and not partial intelligence. When you analyse your state carefully and deeply, you find that your mind dwells upon a past occasion when you saw your love and that your mind also looks forward with the hope of meeting her at a future date -because both of these give sensuous pleasure. All memory, personal experience, gives sensuous pleasure. So you find that while you are in love, there is 'self-forgetfulness' or complete giving over of yourself to another; and also there is a continuity of the self which seeks sensuous pleasure in the past or in the future. This means that self-forgetfulness which implies the giving away even of your life for your love, is in operation with its contradiction namely 'clinging to self'. This is really an indication of lack of intelligence. When you think over this, you realise that society in condemning your state is hindering you at every stage in your search for Truth; you are mis-informed and forced to adopt frameworks ever since your childhood, and none can help you to find Truth. You then realise that you are alone and you have to be alone if you seek Truth. In the history of the world every seeker after Truth has found himself alone as explained above. This has been mistaken as a need to run away from the world in order to seek God, Truth. In your search to understand the inner significance of falling in love, you came to the point when you knew that you were in love and that your mind was wandering backwards and forwards - to the past and to the future - seeking pleasure in thinking of the past actions when you met the object of your love, or of the future when you would next meet her. At this stage, most of you want to get a result or condemn the sensuous pleasure which you get out of the memory of your company with your object of love. You have to understand the truth of this. All existence is sensory. Pleasure and pain are also sensory. If you exclude any pleasure you must exclude all. If you exclude all, you will cease to live. Therefore, you realise that in life there are three important inescapable principles, Love, Pleasure and Pain of which pleasure and pain are sensory. We have to understand the significance of pleasure and pain. We generally deny pain and pursue pleasure. Our daily life is one continual pursuing and denying. The 'I' is the result of this pursuing and denying, and it is therefore a contradiction. That which is in contradiction, cannot understand Truth. You, therefore, realise that you who are in contradiction, cannot understand the truth of these three principles. When you realise this, you are against a blank wall. At this stage, what happens to your seeking pleasure in a memory of your object of love back to the past or forward to the future? [ When the question was raised of understanding pleasure involved in connection with love as discussed at the last meeting, a friend suggested that we should discuss the subject of fear. ] Fear exists not by itself but only in relationship to something either external or inside oneself. You are always afraid of something. Fear is the result of (i) doing something which you would not like others to know or (ii) your being uncertain. Thus, fear will cease only when you face 'what is'. Some say that fear can be got rid of by making an effort or by having the strength or the courage to overcome fear. All effort, willpower, struggle means conflict and conflict cannot lead to cessation of fear. Why do you not face 'what is'? It is because of the tendency in you to 'become' the ideal, You don't know 'what is' and yet you don't like it, and you would like to become something else which is your ideal, which is naturally intensifying the conflict and the fear. The ideal does not exist nor is it understood. When you understand this and when you don't pursue this 'becoming', then fear ceases and you face 'what is'. From this it is clear that your ideas about ideals and methods to achieve your ideals are all wrong and should be thrown overboard. This gives you release from a really great burden. [ A friend suggested that he had the fear of death especially because he is getting old and that his son had not yet been employed. This problem was analysed in the light of the point discussed above. ] Whenever you meet with a challenge there is a response. The challenge and the response constitute an experience. Generally such experience leaves a residue - which is what you have learned from that experience; this is memory. When there is a similar challenge again, the response is by the already existing residue. The residue itself is old and it translates the new challenge according to itself and the result is added to the residue. Thus, the residue gets thicker and thicker. Though the accumulation is undergoing modification, it is still old in relation to any new challenge. You are changing. So also is your neighbour. Yet when you meet your neighbour, you have your old picture of that person. This residue is a problem only when it is pleasurable or painful. If pleasurable, you leave it as it is; if painful, you do something about it. This is how you have marvellous recollections of pleasure and horrible recollections of pain. Why do you fight pain or suffering? Is not suffering only a symptom of your avoiding to face 'what is'? Suffering is the state of disturbance. Either you try to avoid it through some system or escape, or you understand its true significance. Whenever there is a problem, it ceased to be so if there is an answer for it. It is really a problem to you only when it demands a solution and you are unable to find it. It will then be necessary for you to study it for itself. Craving is the cause of suffering. Without understanding this, your attempt merely to get rid of suffering is bound to be futile. Supposing you meet with a domestic calamity, like the death of your relative, you feel lonely an you suffer as you would like to retain continuously the state of peace in which you were, prior to his death, and which was agreeable to you. Is suffering merely a state of disturbance? Is it not a warning that you should wake up and not sleep? You feel disturbed only when you are asleep or when you hold on to something. Therefore any attempt on your part to get rid of that disturbance or suffering means that you wish to continue in a state of sleep and you feel lost because you sought fulfilment of yourself in your relative. You are seeking continuity in a state of sleep to get a permanent security to which you could attach yourself. Therefore this suffering has nothing to do with your relative's death, and you have never treated suffering as an indication to you of your being asleep. If this is realised by you, then you will be interested only in what you actually are - i.e. in 'what is' - and your desire to get rid of suffering would then be only a distraction. Because suffering is a disturbance of continuity, you wish to seek ways and means of entrenching yourself in permanency or in continuity, economic, social etc. You will not be disturbed psychologically either (i) by going insane or (ii) by seeking self-protection through belief and by giving yourself over completely to that belief. As you don't want to be disturbed, you can always find some explanation or other for suffering and you seek a way of not being disturbed psychologically. You then try to shut off everything that disturbs you and to improve in all things that are pleasurable to you. You choose the field agreeable to you and any factor that prevents your choice is a disturbance to you. You therefore adopt a permanent set of choice undisturbed by other things. Naturally you choose the field which gives you satisfaction and you don't want a disturbance in that field except towards improvement. The problem is whether you can improve in the field of your choice without any disturbance, especially when you are trying to shut off the factor that makes for improvement. Improvement can only be known in relationship. Improvement is only by comparison - i.e. by reference to the framework of values, viz., memory which is the residue of experience in relationship with others. This framework is the product of disturbances and you are attempting to use it to ward off disturbance. This attempt, therefore, leads to a perpetual state of contradiction in which there is suffering. In other words, when you attempt to avoid disturbance you don't want memory; but when you want to improve in the field of your choice you really want memory; thus there is contradiction. If you don't want any improvement at all but only continue to shut off every disturbance, then it really means, 'sleep' equal to 'death'. You feel disturbed because you are sensitive. Therefore when you attempt to cut off anything that causes disturbance to you, it means you want to be 'insensitive' or 'dull'. If there is complete cutting off of disturbances, you will be in a sleepy state. Then, the result of all your further activities in the same direction will be either (i) to put you to sleep or (ii) to enable you to realise that cutting-off is a wrong process as it has led you to this sate of insensitivity. If there is understanding, there is realisation; and your intention to continue undisturbed changes; you don't then make any attempt to cut yourself off inwardly from anything that was considered to be a disturbance previously; and every such 'disturbance' is no longer suffering because you are now awake and therefore you are able to understand 'what is'. MADRAS 50TH GROUP DISCUSSION 29TH DECEMBER, 1947 In daily life, if you watch yourself you will find that you are not sensitive. Why are you not sensitive? Because it hurts you, or because you don't want to be found out in your true colours, your natural instinct is to be physically insensitive. Generally speaking, artists are considered unsteady and immoral. That is because, biologically and physically they are intense in their emotions. Modern civilisation necessarily involves a biological and physical barrier of sensitivity as otherwise existence will be almost impossible. Is it necessary to have also a psychological barrier? In practice, we are psychologically more sensitive than even physically, though both work upon each other. We have walls of guilt, defence and fear. Let us find out to whom there is experience, to him who is asleep or to him who is awake. Experience is only to the man who is asleep because he is awakened by that experience and he then says that he has had experience. If he is awake, he is always active and therefore he has no experience. You now want to know what Karma means. Karma really means either to do or to be, and it comprises (i) the instinctive responses of the physical and (ii) the cultural responses of the psychological human being. The cultural responses are educated, controlled, conditioned and disciplined. Society, by means of its discipline, impinges on the individual and changes his impulses. The individual has also inherited impulses from his past. So the present is the passage from the past to the future. His cultural and psychological responses are from the past but modified by the conjunction of the past with the present. Thus, the past is controlling and modifying the present - i.e. the cause which was in the past brings about an effect in the present. The past modified by, or flowing through, the present produces action which is also conditioned. The old, meeting the new challenge, produces modified action - i.e. the new is always modified by the old. The past is the 'me' and in conjunction with the present, the 'me', produces action. The past itself was a series of modifications-yesterday was a modification of the day before yesterday in conjunction with yesterday's present; similarly, the day before yesterday was the modification of the day before in conjunction with the present of the day before yesterday. Today is a modification of yesterday in conjunction with today's present. Thus, the 'modifier' is the continuous entity of the days before yesterday, yesterday and today. The modifier is the actor and he is the result of modification of the innumerable days before yesterday. Therefore, he is the creator of time - the time of memory not chronological time. As the actor is the result of the past, he necessarily causes modification to the present when he meets the present which is new. This meeting of the past with the challenge of the present which is new, leads to conflict which results in modification of the new into the old. In other words, your feeling now is conditioned by what you felt yesterday and all the days before. Therefore, in meeting a new challenge today you act in a conditioned manner and therefore you feel pain. Yesterday was modified by the days before yesterday. In the time-interval, cause and effect form a process of change. That which was the effect yesterday of a cause of day-before-yesterday, is now found to be the cause of the effect today; this effect in turn will be the cause of something which will be noticed as effect tomorrow. Is today (which is cause) different from tomorrow (which is effect)? Is cause different from effect? Is what we call modification a modification at all? The means creates the end. Is the end distant from the means? You have seen that what was the effect becomes the cause and what is the cause will become the effect, and that this is a continuous chain throughout. You have also realised that the actor who is the modifier, is also really the cause and the effect, and that there is no time-interval when the cause is distant from the effect; thus cause and effect are the same. As has already been stated, the conditioned experience of yesterday meets the present which is always new, and modifies the present according to yesterday's conditioning. This modification is taking place continuously with no time-interval and therefore there is no moment in time when the cause and the effect are two distinct things separate and distant from each other. The whole is one continuous process and the action is a continuous stream where the cause, the effect and the modifier are all one and the same. Why is it that the actor does not realise that he is at the same time the cause, the effect and the modifier? You are sorrow (i.e. today); you are the cause of sorrow (i.e. tomorrow); yet you want to avoid sorrow. Today's experience has been conditioned by yesterday's and it will condition the experience of tomorrow. Therefore, psychological time is created by memory and does not exist except as memory ever undergoing modification. As long as the actor is the result of yesterday in conjunction with the present, he will be the modifier also. Cause and effect and their modification are all fluid and in a state of flux, they are never steady. You are the cause and the modifier always living and moving, always going on as one continuous process. If you realise this, then to you, time as a process of understanding ceases. If you consider that the cause is different from the effect, then you accept the time-interval for modification. that means you can modify the effect during this time-interval; this implies growth or progress in time towards a state already projected by you. This is really false because the acorn contains the oak tree and it cannot grow into anything else. When you thus realise that cause and effect are the same, there is no time at all; and when you also realise that any action on the part of the actor will be only in time, you will cease to think in terms of time. Therefore the actor cannot do anything but remain still and silent in a state of alertness. Any discipline that the actor chooses to impose upon himself is really a response to a challenge made by a temptation or a desire, whether verbal or painful. All discipline is therefore a process of isolation. For instance, to resist greed, you discipline against greed by erecting a wall of non-greed. When discipline is a means of resistance, you are using time as a means of modification or resistance and therefore time becomes important. Discipline, being then a process of conditioning in time, causes sorrow. When you realise this and when you understand the whole meaning of discipline, the discipline drops away. You will never act contrary to what is orderly if you live without discipline but with understanding. Fighting a response always leads to further resistance. Your psychological inward intention is to be free so that you may meet a new challenge without any conditioning; there- fore, you would allow all the responses that are already in you to come out; you do not impede them in any manner. You go on like this, till you have worked out all your old responses. This understanding of responses really leads to the dropping away of your responses and you will be neither 'excited' nor 'not excited', because being aware of every response means intense watchfulness. You will then be in a state of extraordinary pliability when love will come into being. Then, the actor who has realised himself to be the cause, the effect and the modifier, faces everything that comes to him irrespective of whether it is pleasurable or painful without any resistance whatsoever. MADRAS 51ST GROUP DISCUSSION 31ST DECEMBER, 1947 When you do not understand fully "the now" in which you are, how can you know about tomorrow? When you do not know anything about living, how can you understand death? Knowledge gathered from books or from others or from one's own experience is really an impediment to the understanding of 'what is'. You say that some knowledge of psychology is necessary to understand what we are discussing. Words are useful only so long as they are not hindrances to communication. It is really very difficult to understand how we use words and how to interpret. There is no need to learn any psychological terminology to understand what we have been discussing, especially as we have been using only ordinary words. Knowledge and book-learning will be a help only in connection with the learning of a technique. For instance, when you study Engineering you begin to know what has been previously experimented with and, as you experiment, you learn more. Self-knowledge is quite different from technical knowledge. Accumulation of Engineering knowledge and also knowledge about other technical subjects has gone on through centuries and you cannot do without them. But it is not the case with self-knowledge which cannot be communicated to another. For instance, you suffer not because the book says so; to find a solution for suffering you have to start anew independent of others' experience. You have to start with yourself to enquire and to find out the solution. Any amount of understanding of what others have said about suffering will not be the same as your own understanding of your suffering or sorrow. Nowadays, people go to psycho-analysts in order to dissolve their sorrow. When you gather knowledge in regard to psychology, you are only assimilating the various systems of psycho-analysis relating to the mind. Gathering of such knowledge makes your mind conditioned; and there is also a constant choice and discarding of the knowledge given by others. Mere gathering of knowledge from books really conditions your mind because you search for security in knowledge, and you agree with what is pleasant to you; for instance, war is disastrous, everyone knows it; and yet, people are ready to go to war. You read a number of knowledge-giving books but you don't relate what you read to your action in daily life. If you care to analyse the question seriously, you will find definitely that you can understand and face 'what is' without reading a single book. You have got your own prejudice which translates the knowledge that you gather from books; and no book can point out to you that you are prejudiced nor can it teach you how to love. You can only discover when the mind is fresh without any burden of book knowledge. Using knowledge to further thinking really amounts to treating knowledge as memory. Thinking is the response of memory to a challenge. How can understanding which is new be the outcome of memory, of book-knowledge, which is old? The new cannot be the outcome of the old. To understand today, your attachment to yesterday must cease, as yesterday prevents you from experiencing anew. An incomplete experience leaves a scar or a residue whereas a completed experience does not leave any residue. This residue is memory. Similarly suppression of any feeling leaves a residue. The problem then is how to act without leaving a residue. Psychologically, you have to give an end to every one of your feelings. Otherwise, you carry it over and it becomes a burden. When you see the implications of continuing the feeling and the truth of ending the feeling so as to leave no residue, there is an immediate ending. Then there will be no continuity but there will be renewal. Memory continuing on and on is incapable of understanding. Therefore a mind seeking continuity can never meet the new. Therefore your mind should not be interested in accumulating; and it can meet the new only when it is not burdened with memory. Similar is the case with your thought and with your feeling. It is necessary to experiment with this in your daily life and so live that every thought and feeling comes to an end. This means you should be extremely careful as to what you say consciously or unconsciously, what you feel and what you do. Every word has a verbal and a nervous reaction which sets a wave going. Do not allow other's words to react upon you. Be careful not to use words which produce responses in others. Be careful about what books and newspapers you read. Similarly, what you feel affects you nervously and you will find what tremendous effect cinema-going has upon you. Cinema shows awaken responses which continue in that state and are not ended. Therefore, you are inclined to go again and again to movies. You have to understand this and be free from all these excitements. Love is not memory and it comes into being only before you have a feeling. The ending of feeling is not a battle to overcome a struggle but it is really seeing directly the truth of ending the feeling. A feeling is a thought when named. When words have nervous responses both on yourself and on the individual in relationship with you, they become important, so, you are silent. Similarly, when you end a feeling, there is immediate communion and there is complete understanding. You should all of you live a personal life of inner awareness which is possible only through love and understanding. You will find Truth only through awareness of your own thoughts, feelings and actions. Such an awareness will free you from your shortcomings and will enable you to solve your problems without your striving to force any solution. Life will then become rich and you will find joy in every one of life's moments, and you will not be interested in any habitual or mechanical pursuits. Then, to you, Reality will come into being. BOMBAY 1ST PUBLIC TALK 18TH JANUARY, 1948 To communicate with one another, even if we know each other very well, is extremely difficult. Here we are; you do not know me, and I do not know you. We are talking at different levels. I may use words that may have to you a significance, different from mine. Understanding comes only when we, you and I, meet on the same level at the same time. That happens only when there is real affection between people, between husband and wife, between intimate friends. That is real communion. Instantaneous understanding comes when we meet on the same level at the same time. It is very difficult, at a gathering of this kind, to commune with one another easily, effectively and with definitive action. I am using words which are simple, which are not technical, because I do not think that any technical type of expression is going to help us solve our difficult problems. So I am not going to use any technical terms, either of psychology or of science. I have not read any books on psychology or any religious books, fortunately. I would like to convey, by the very simple words which we use in our daily life, a deeper significance; but that is very difficult if you do not know how to listen. There is an art of listening. To listen really, one should abandon or put aside all prejudices, pre-formulations and daily activities. When you are in a receptive state of mind, things can be easily understood; you are listening when your real attention is given to something. But, unfortunately, most of us listen through a screen of resistance. We are screened with prejudices, whether religious or spiritual, psychological or scientific; or with our daily worries, desires and fears. And with these for a screen, we listen. Therefore, we listen really to our own noise, to our own sound, not to what is being said. It is extremely difficult to put aside our training, our prejudices, our inclination, our resistance, and, reaching beyond the verbal expression, to listen so that we understand instantaneously. That is going to be one of our difficulties. I am going to explain presently that truth can be understood instantaneously. It is not a matter of time, it is not a matter of growth or of habit. Truth can only be understood directly, immediately, now, in the present, not in the future; and it can be understood, felt, realized, when there is the capability of listening directly, in an open manner and with an open heart. But if our minds are engrossed, if our hearts are tired, then there is no possibility of receiving that which is truth. So our difficulty is to have that instantaneous capacity to perceive directly for ourselves and not wait for the medium of time. Time and life become a process of destruction when we are unable to understand directly; so it is obvious why I suggest that you should listen without any resistance. If, during this discourse, anything is said which is opposed to your way of thinking and belief, just listen, do not resist. You may be right, and I may be wrong; but by listening and considering together, we are going to find out what is the truth. Truth cannot be given to you by somebody. You have to discover it; and to discover, there must be a state of mind in which there is direct perception. There is no direct perception when there is a resistance, a safeguard, a protection. Understanding comes through being aware of what is. To know exactly what is, the real, the actual, without interpreting it, without condemning or justifying it, is, surely, the beginning of wisdom. It is only when we begin to interpret, to translate according to our conditioning, according to our prejudice, that we miss the truth. After all, it is like research. To know what something is, what it is exactly, requires research -you cannot translate it according to your moods. Similarly, if we can look, observe, listen, be aware of what is, exactly, then the problem is solved. And that is what we are trying to do in all these discourses. I am going to point out to you what is, and not translate it according to my fancy; nor should you translate it or interpret it according to your background or training. Is it not possible, then, to be aware of everything as it is? Starting from there, surely, there can be an understanding. To acknowledge, to be aware of, to get at that which is, puts an end to struggle. If I know that I am a liar, and it is a fact which I recognize, then the struggle is over. To acknowledge, to be aware of what one is, is already the beginning of wisdom, the beginning of understanding, which releases you from time. To bring in the quality of time - time, not in the chronological sense, but as the medium, as the psychological process, the process of the mind - is destructive, and creates confusion. So, we can have understanding of what is when we recognize it without condemnation, without justification, without identification. To know that one is in a certain condition, in a certain state, is already a process of liberation; but a man who is not aware of his condition, of his struggle, tries to be something other than he is, which brings about habit. So, then, let us keep in mind that we want to examine what is, to observe and be aware of exactly what is the actual, without giving it any slant, without giving it an interpretation. It needs an extraordinarily astute mind, an extraordinarily pliable heart, to be aware of and to follow what is; because what is, is constantly moving, constantly undergoing a transformation, and if the mind is tethered to belief, to knowledge, it ceases to pursue, it ceases to follow the swift movement of what is. What is, is not static, surely - it is constantly moving, as you will see if you observe it very closely. And to follow it, you need a very swift mind and a pliable heart which are denied when the mind is static, fixed in a belief, in a prejudice, in an identification; and a mind and heart that are dry cannot follow easily, swiftly, that which is. So, what are we going to do in all these talks, discussions, questions and answers? I am just going to say what is and follow the movement of what is; and you will understand what is, only if you also are capable of following it. One is aware, I think, without too much discussion, too much verbal expression, that there is individually as well as collective chaos, confusion and misery. It is not only in India, but right throughout the world; in China, America, England, Germany, all over the world, there is confusion, mounting sorrow. It is not only national, it is not particularly here, it is all over the world. There is extraordinarily acute suffering, and it is not individual only, but collective. So, it is a world catastrophe, and to limit it merely to a geographical area, a coloured section of the map, is absurd; because then we will not understand the full significance of this worldwide as well as individual suffering. Being aware of this confusion, what is our response today? How do we react? There is suffering, political,social, religious; our whole psychological being is confused, and all the leaders, political and religious, have failed us; all the books have lost their significance. You may go to the Bhagavad Gita or the Bible or the latest treatise on politics or psychology, and you will find that they have lost that ring, that quality of truth; they have become mere words. You yourself, who are the repeater of those words, are confused and uncertain, and mere repetition of words conveys nothing. Therefore, the words and the books have lost their value; that is, if you quote the Bible, or Marx, or the Bhagavad Gita, as you who quote it, are yourself uncertain, confused, your repetition becomes a lie. Because, what is written there becomes mere propaganda, and propaganda is not truth. So, when you repeat, you have ceased to understand your own state of being. You are merely covering with words of authority your own confusion. But what we are trying to do, is to understand this confusion and not cover it up with quotations. So, what is your response to it? How do you respond to this extraordinary chaos, this confusion, this uncertainty of existence? Be aware of it, as I discuss it; follow, not my words, but the thought which is active in you. Most of us are accustomed to be spectators, and not to partake in the game. We read books, but we never write books. It has become our tradition, our national and universal habit, to be the spectators, to look on at a football game, to watch the public politicians and orators. We are merely the outsiders, looking on, and we have lost the creative capacity. Therefore, we want to absorb and partake. But here, in this crowd, if you are merely observing, if you are merely spectators, you will lose entirely the significance of this discourse, because this is not a lecture which you are to listen to from force of habit. I am not going to give you information which you can pick up in an encyclopedia. What we are trying to do, is to follow each other's thoughts, to pursue as far as we can, as profoundly as we can, the intimations, the responses of our own feelings. So, please find out what your response is to this cause, to this suffering; not what somebody else's words are, but how you yourself respond. Your response is one of indifference if you benefit by the suffering, by the chaos, if you derive profit from it, either economic, social, political or psychological. Therefore, you do not mind to have this chaos continue. Surely, the more trouble there is in the world the more chaos, the more one seeks security. Haven't you noticed it? When there is confusion in the world, psychologically and in every way, you enclose yourself in some kind of security, either that of a bank account or that of an ideology; or else you turn to prayer, you go to the temple - which is really escaping from what is happening in the world. More and more sects are being formed, more and more `isms' are springing up all over the world. Because, the more confusion there is, the more you want a leader, somebody who will guide you out of this mess; so you turn to the religious books, or to one of the latest teachers; or else you act and respond according to a system which appears to solve the problem, a system either of the left or of the right. So, that is exactly what is happening. The moment you are aware of confusion, of exactly what is, you try to escape from it. And those sects which offer you a system for the solution of suffering, economic, social or religious, are the worst; because then, system becomes important and not man -whether it be a religious system, or a system of the left or of the right. System becomes important, the philosophy, the idea, becomes important, and not man; and for the sake of the idea, of the ideology, you are willing to sacrifice all mankind, which is exactly what is happening in the world. This is not merely my interpretation; if you observe, you will find that is exactly what is happening. The system has become important. Therefore, as the system has become important, man, you and I, lose significance; and the controllers of the system, whether religious or social, whether of the left or of the right, assume authority, assume power, and therefore sacrifice you, the individual. That is exactly what is happening. Now what is the cause of this confusion this misery? How did this misery come about, this suffering, not only inwardly but outwardly, this fear and expectation of war, the third world war that is breaking out? What is the cause of it? Surely, if you seek the cause according to Marx, or according to Spengler, or according to the Bhagavad Gita, you will not understand it, will you? You have to find out for yourself what the cause is, you must know the truth of it, see it as it actually is and not as someone else sees it. So, what is the truth of it? First of all, what is the significance of this confusion? Surely it indicates the collapse of all moral, spiritual values, and the glorification of all sensual values, of the value of things made by the hand or by the mind. What happens when we have no other values except the value of the things of the senses, the value of the products of the mind, of the hand or of the machine? The more significance we give to the sensual value of things, the greater the confusion, is it not? Again, this is not my theory. When you are on the street, what is the predominating value that you have? You do not have to quote books to find out that your values, your riches, your economic and social existence are based on things made by the hand or by the mind. So, we live and function and have our being steeped in sensual values, which means that things, the things of the mind, the things of the hand and of the machine, have become important; and when things become important, belief becomes predominantly significant -which is exactly what is happening in the world, is it not? I will go into this whole matter during the many talks which we are to have, but in this first talk I just want to show what is happening, to point out what is, so that we can be aware of the actual. So, giving more and more significance to the values of the senses brings about confusion; and being in confusion, we try to escape from it through various forms, whether religious, economic or social, or through ambition, through power, through the search for reality. But the real is near, you do not have to seek it; and a man who seeks truth will never find it. Truth is in what is - and that is the beauty of it. But the moment you conceive it, the moment you seek it, you begin to struggle; and a man who struggles cannot understand. That is why we have to be still, observant, passively aware. We see that our living, our action, is always within the field of destruction, within the field of sorrow; like a wave, confusion and chaos always overtake us. There is no interval in the confusion of existence. I hope you see the significance of this - or do I have to explain it a little further? Whatever we do at present seems to lead to chaos, seems to lead to sorrow and unhappiness. Look at your own life and you will see that our living is always on the border of sorrow. Our work, our social activity, our politics, the various gatherings of nations to stop war, all produce further war. Destruction follows in the wake of living; whatever we do leads to death. That is what is actually taking place. So, can we stop this misery at once, and not go on always being caught by the wave of confusion and sorrow? Am I making myself clear? That is, great teachers, whether the Buddha or the Christ, have come; they have accepted faith, making themselves, perhaps, free from confusion and sorrow. But they never prevented sorrow, they never stopped confusion. Confusion goes on, sorrow goes on. And if you, seeing this social and economic confusion, this chaos, this misery, withdraw into what is called the religious life and abandon the world, you may feel that you are joining these great Teachers; but the world goes on with its chaos, its misery and destruction, the everlasting suffering of its rich and poor. So, our problem, yours and mine, is whether we can step out of this misery instantaneously. If, living in the world, you refuse to be a part of it, you will help others out of this chaos - not in the future, not tomorrow, but now. Surely, that is our problem. The war is probably coming, more destructive, more appalling in its form. Surely, we cannot prevent it, because the issues are much too strong and too close. But you and I can perceive the confusion and misery immediately, can we not? We must perceive them, and then we will be in a position to awaken the same understanding of truth in another. In other words, can you be instantaneously free? -because that is the only way out of this misery. Perception can take place only in the present; but if you say, `I will do it tomorrow', the wave of confusion overtakes you, and you are then always involved in confusion. So, is it possible to come to that state when you yourself perceive the truth instantaneously, and therefore put an end to confusion? I say that it is, and that it is the only possible way. I say it can be done and must be done, not based on supposition or belief. To bring about this extraordinary revolution - which is not the revolution to get rid of the capitalists and install another group - , to bring about this wonderful transformation, which is the only true revolution, is the problem. What is generally called revolution is merely the modification or the continuance of the right according to the ideas of the left. The left, after all, is the continuation of the right in a modified form. If the right is based on sensual values, the left is but the continuance of the same sensual values, different only in degree or expression. So, true revolution can take place only when you, the individual, become aware in your relationship to another. Surely, what you are in your relationship to another, to your wife, your child, your boss, your neighbour, is society. Society by itself is non-existent. Society is what you and I, in our relationship, have created; it is the outward projection of all of our own inward psychological states. So, if you and I do not understand ourselves, merely transforming the outer, which is the projection of the inner, has no significance whatsoever; that is, there can be no significant alteration or modification in society as long as I do not understand myself in relationship to you. Being confused in my relationship, I create a society which is the replica, the outward expression of what I am. This is a obvious fact, which we can discuss. We can discuss whether society, the outward expression, has produced me, or whether I have produced society. We can go into that later. So, is it not an obvious fact that what I am in my relationship to another, creates society; and that, without radically transforming myself, there can be no transformation of the essential function of society? When we look to a system for the transformation of society, we are merely evading, the question, because a system cannot transform man; man always transforms the system, which history shows. Until I, in my relationship to you, understand myself, I am the cause of chaos, misery, destruction, fear, brutality. Understanding myself is not a matter of time; that is, I can understand myself this very moment. If I say, `I will understand myself tomorrow', I am bringing in chaos and misery, my action ia destructive. The moment I say that I `will' understand, I bring in the time element and so am already caught up in the wave of confusion and destruction. Surely, understanding is now, not tomorrow. Tomorrow is for the lazy mind, the sluggish mind, the mind that is not interested. When you are interested in something, you do it instantaneously, there is immediate understanding, immediate transformation. If you do not change now, you will never change; because the change that takes place tomorrow is merely a modification, it is not transformation. Transformation can only take place immediately; the revolution is now, not tomorrow. You all look so baffled. Why? Because you say, `How can I change now? I, who am a product of the past, of innumerable conditionings, I, who am a bundle of mannerisms, how can I change, how can I throw all that away and be free?' But if you do not throw it all away, if there is not that tremendous revolution, you will always live with chaos. So, how is it possible for this instantaneous revolution to take place? I hope you see the importance of immediate change. If you do not see that, you miss the whole significance of it. Understanding does not come tomorrow; there is understanding now, or never. The present is always the continuation of the past, So, can I, who am a result of the past, whose being is founded on the past, I who am the outcome of yesterday - can I step out of time, not chronologically but psychologically? Surely, you do step out of time when you are vitally interested - you take a stride in that timeless existence, which is not an illusion a self-induced hallucination. When that happens, you are completely without a problem, for then the self is not worried about itself; and then you are beyond the wave of destruction. And during these talks, that timeless transformation is the only thing that I am going to be concerned with. I cannot induce it in you, that would be false. But if you follow freely, without resistance, with understanding, you will find yourselves very often in that state of immediate perception and therefore of immediate transformation. Question: I am born with a certain temperament, a certain psychological and physical pattern, whatever may be its reason. This pattern becomes the major single factor in my life. It dominates me absolutely. My freedom within the pattern is very limited the majority of my reactions and impulses being rigidly predetermined. Can I break up the tyranny of this genetic factor? Krishnamurti: To put it differently, I am caught in a pattern, social, hereditary, environmental, ideological, whether it is the pattern of my parents or of the society about me. I am hemmed in by a pattern, and the question is, how am I to break it up? I am the result of my father and mother, biologically, physically. I am the result of my parents' beliefs, habits, fears, which have created the society around me. My parents, in turn, were the result of their parents, with their social, physical, psychological environment, and so on backward indefinitely, timelessly, without a beginning. Each person is held with a pattern of existence, and I am the result of all that past - not just my own past, but the whole past of mankind. I am, after all, the son of my father. I am the result of the past modified in conjunction with the present. We are not bringing in the question of reincarnation, which is merely a theory. We are just examining what really is. My existence is the result of my past, my past being the result of my father's existence. I am the outcome of time, I am the past going through the present to become the future. I am the result of yesterday, which is today becoming tomorrow. Now, can I step out of that process of time, that is, can I break away from the pattern which my father and I myself have created? I am not different from my father; I am my father, modified. That is exactly what is. But if I begin to translate what is, if, for example, I bring in the idea that I am the soul, a spiritual entity, then I step into another realm altogether. That is not the point for the moment - we will discuss that when we go into the problem of what is soul, what is continuity, what is reincarnation. The problem at the present moment is: Can I, who am conditioned - whether by the left or by the right is irrelevant - , can I step out of that conditioning? What is it that conditions you? What is it that limits thought? What is it that creates the pattern in which you are caught? If I cease to think, then there is no pattern. That is, I am the thinker, my thoughts are the outcome of yesterday, I respond to every new challenge according to the pattern of yesterday or of the past second; and can I, whose thinking process is the outcome of yesterday, cease to think in terms of yesterday? I am only explaining the problem differently, and you will find the answer for yourself in a minute. My thought is conditioned, because any response from the conditioned state creates further conditioning; any action from the conditioned state is a conditioned action, and therefore gives continuity to the conditioned state. Therefore, to step out of it, there must be freedom from condition, which means freedom from the process of thinking - which does not mean that I am suggesting this as a means of escape. Most people do try to escape because life is too urgent, too strong, too demanding for them. I am not proposing such an escape; I am just asking you to look at the truth of the problem. Can you be free of the process of thinking? Can there be a complete revolution in thinking - not according to the old pattern, which is the continuation of the old with values modified, but - , a complete transformation, a total breaking up of what is? As I am the product of yesterday, freedom obviously does not lie on the same level, which would merely be a continuation of yesterday. So, I can step out of it only when there is cessation of thinking. We are just looking at the problem, not seeking an answer; because the answer is in the problem, not away from the problem. If you understand the problem, the answer is there; whereas if you are looking for an answer and you fail, you are puzzled. You are waiting for me to tell you how to step out of the pattern. I am not going to tell you how to step out of it; it has no meaning if I tell you how, because then you are not following the problem. You are waiting for me to tell you what to do, and therefore you are very puzzled. I am not going to tell you what to do; because, if you understand the problem, the problem ceases. When you see a snake and know it is poisonous, there is no problem, is there? You know what to do - you do not touch it. You go away, or do something else. Similarly, you must understand this problem completely -which you are not doing. I am doing it for you, and you are merely listening to me. We must understand the problem, not ask how to solve it. When you understand the problem, surely, the problem itself reveals the answer. It is like a schoolboy taking an examination. He does not read the problem carefully, he wants the answer; and therefore he fails. But if he reads the problem very slowly, very carefully, looking at it from all angles, then he will find the answer - or rather, the answer is there. Similarly, you are looking at this problem with the desire for a answer. I do not think you see the beauty of it. Probably you are tired, Sirs. Comment from Audience: No. Krishnamurti: Yes, you are tired. I will tell you why. Probably this is all very new to you, it must be, it is a new approach altogether; so you are a bit puzzled, and when you are puzzled or bewildered, the mind wanders off. I can go on, it is my job; but I have done this, I am not just talking. Whereas with you, Sirs, if I may say so, you are not studying the problem. I have put it in different ways, but you refuse to follow it. I am just pointing out what is, which is the problem. But you are not interested in studying what is. You are waiting to see the outcome, whereas I am not interested in the outcome. I want to understand the thing as it is - therefore I have found the answer. So, let me again request you please to follow the problem itself, and not look for an answer. Please see the importance of this: to look for an answer, for a solution, is not to understand the problem; and if you do not understand the problem, there is no answer to that problem. The problem is here, and you are looking for the answer there - which means that you will find an answer which is convenient, gratifying. But if you look at the problem very carefully, very intelligently, then you will see the beauty of it and then the outcome is marvellous. So, the problem is this: my thought is conditioned, it is fixed in a pattern; and to any challenge, which is always new, my thought can respond only according to its conditioning, transforming the new into the modified old. Therefore, my thought can never be free. My thought, which is the outcome of yesterday, can respond only in terms of yesterday; and when it asks, `how can I go beyond?', it is asking a wrong question. Because, when thought seeks to beyond its own conditioning, it continues itself in a modified way. Therefore, there is a falseness in that question. There is freedom only when there is no conditioning; but for freedom to be, thought must be aware of its condition and not try to become something other than it is. If thought says, `I must free myself from my conditioning', it never can; because whatever it does is its own net continued or modified. All that thought can do is to cease to be. Surely, the moment thought is active, it is conditioned, is continuity modified by a conditioned response. So, along that line there is no way to step out of conditioning. Therefore, there is only one way, which is vertical, which is straight - for thought to cease. Now, can thinking cease? What is thinking, what do we mean by thinking? We mean by thinking, the response of memory. I am making it very simple. I do not want to complicate it, because the problem itself is quite complex. Thinking is the response of memory; and what is memory? Memory is the residue of experience. That is, when there is a challenge, yesterday's thought, which is memory, responds to that challenge, and therefore that challenge is not fully understood but is interpreted through the screen of yesterday. So, what is not understood leaves a mark, which we call memory. Have you not noticed that when you have understood something, when you have completed a conversation, when it is finished, it does not leave a mark? It is only an incomplete act, whether verbal or physical, that leaves a mark. The response of that mark, which is memory, is called thinking. So, can there be a state in which there is no yesterday, that is, can there be a state when there is no time, no thought that is the product of yesterday? Conditioned thought that seeks to modify or change itself merely continues the conditioned state. That is fairly obvious. Thinking is the response of memory - which is obvious too. And memory is the outcome of imperfect understanding of experience, of challenge. Imperfect understanding of experience is the cause of memory. When you do something with all your being integrated, it leaves no residue of memory; but when the residue gives response, that response we call thinking. Such thinking is conditioned, and that conditioning can come to an end only when the act is complete. That means you meet everything anew. How can you meet everything anew? How can you meet life, existence, anew, in the sense of `without time'? It is a new question, is it not? That is the question arising out of this question. When I put that new question to you, what is your response? If your response is also new, then you are passively aware, alert, watching. That state is timeless. In that state, when you meet everything with passive alertness, awareness, there is no time; there is a direct experience, the challenge is directly understood; therefore there is freedom from thinking. And that freedom is eternal; it is now, not tomorrow. January 18, 1948. BOMBAY 2ND PUBLIC TALK 25TH JANUARY, 1948 This meeting will be held hereafter at 6 o'clock every Sunday evening here, and the discussions at Carmichael Road will be on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays at 6 o'clock. Perhaps some of you will remember what I was discussing in my talk last Sunday. I was saying that in understanding what is, we shall find the truth of a problem; and it is extremely difficult to understand what is, because what is is never static, it is constantly in motion. A mind that wishes to understand a problem must not only understand the problem completely, wholly, but must be able to follow it swiftly, because the problem is never static. The problem is always new, whether it is a problem of starvation, a psychological problem, or any problem. Any crisis is always new; therefore, to understand it, a mind must always be fresh, clear, swift in its pursuit. I think most of us reaLize the urgency of an inward revolution, which alone can bring about a radical transformation of the outer, of society. This is the problem with which I myself and all seriously-intentioned people are occupied. How to bring about a fundamental, a radical transformation in society, is our problem; and, as I said last Sunday, this transformation of the outer cannot take place without inner revolution. Because, society is always static, any action, any reform which is accomplished without this inward revolution, becomes equally static; so there is no hope without this constant inward revolution, because, without it, outer action becomes repetitive, habitual. The action of relationship between you and another, between you and me, is society; and that society becomes static, it has no life-giving quality, as long as there is not this constant inward revolution, a creative, psychological transformation; and it is because there is not this constant inward revolution that society is always becoming static, crystallized and has therefore constantly to be broken up. So, our problem, is it not?, is whether there can be a society which is static, and at the same time an individual in whom this constant revolution is taking place. That is, revolution in society must begin with the inner, psychological transformation of the individual. Most of us want to see a radical transformation in the social structure. That is the whole battle that is going on in the world - to bring about a social revolution through communistic or any other means. Now, if there is a social revolution, that is, an action with regard to the outer structure of man, however radical that social revolution may be, its very nature is static if there is no inward revolution of the individual, no psychological transformation. So, to bring about a society that is not repetitive, not static, not disintegrating, that is constantly alive, it is imperative that there should be a revolution in the psychological structure of the individual; for without inward, psychological revolution, mere transformation of the outer has very little significance. That is, society is always becoming crystallized, static, and is therefore always disintegrating. However much and however wisely legislation may be promulgated, society is always in the process of decay; because revolution must take place within, not merely outwardly. I think it is important to understand this, and not slur over it. Outward action, when accomplished, is over, is static; and if the relationship between individuals, which is society, is not the outcome of inward revolution, then the social structure, being static, absorbs the individual, and therefore makes him equally static, repetitive. Realizing this, realizing the extraordinary significance of what I have said, which is a fact, there can be no question of agreement or disagreement. It is a fact that society is always crystallizing and absorbing the individual; and that constant, creative revolution can only be in the individual, not in society, not in the outer. That is, creative revolution can take place only in individual relationship, which is society. We see how the structure of the present society in India, in Europe, in America, in every part of the world, is rapidly disintegrating; and we know it within our own lives. We can observe it as we go down the streets. We do not need great historians to tell us the fact that our society is crumbling; and there must be new architects, new builders, to create a new society. The structure must be built on a new foundation, on newly discovered facts and values. Such architects do not yet exist. There are no builders, none who, observing, becoming aware of the fact that the structure is collapsing, are transforming themselves into architects. So, that is our problem. We see society crumbling, disintegrating; and it is we, you and I, who have to be the architects. You and I have to re-discover the values and build on a more fundamental, lasting foundation; because if we look to the professional architects, the political and religious builders, we shall be precisely in the same position as before. Now, because the individual, you and I, are not creative, we have reduced society to this chaos. So, you and I have to be creative, because the problem is urgent; you and I must be aware of the causes of the collapse of society and create a new structure based, not on mere imitation, but on our creative understanding. Now, this implies, does it not?, negative thinking. Negative thinking is the highest form of understanding. That is, in order to understand what is creative thinking, we must approach the problem negatively; because a positive approach to the problem -which is that you and I must become creative in order to build a new structure of society - will be imitative. To understand that which is crumbling, we must investigate it, examine it negatively, not with a positive system, a positive formula, a positive conclusion. So, why is society crumbling, collapsing as it surely is? One of the fundamental reasons is that the individual, you, have ceased to be creative. I will explain what I mean. You and I have become imitative, we are copying, outwardly and inwardly. Outwardly, when learning a technique, when communicating with each other on the verbal level, naturally there must be some imitation, copy. I copy words. To become an engineer, I must first learn the technique and use the technique to build a bridge. So, there must be a certain amount of imitation copying, in outward technique. But, when there is inward, psychological imitation, surely, we cease to be creative. Our education, our social structure, our so-called religious life, are all based on imitation; that is, I fit into a particular social or religious formula. I have ceased to be a real individual; psychologically, I have become a mere repetitive machine with certain conditioned responses, whether those of the Parsi, the Hindu, the Christian, the Buddhist, the German or the Englishman. Our res- ponses are conditioned according to the pattern of society, whether it is Eastern or Western, religious or materialistic. So, one of the fundamental causes of the disintegration of society is imitation and one of the disintegrating factors is the leader, whose very essence is imitation. So, in order to understand the nature of disintegrating society, is it not important to enquire whether you and I, the individual, can be creative? We can see that when there is imitation, there must be disintegration; when there is authority, there must be copying. And since our whole mental, psychological make-up is based on authority, there must be freedom from authority to be creative. Have you not noticed that in moments of creativeness, those rather happy moments of vital interest, there is no sense of repetition, no sense of copying? Such moments are always new, fresh, creative, happy. So, one of the fundamental causes of the disintegration of society is copying, which is the worship of authority. Please do not agree with me. It is not a question of agreement, but of understanding what is. If you merely agree with me, you will make me your authority; but if you understand, you will cease to worship authority, because the problem is not a matter of substituting one authority for another, but of being creative. When you try to become creative, then you need authority; but when you are creative, there is no authority, there is no copying. There is a difference between becoming and being. Becoming admits time, and being is free of time. In becoming you must have authority, an example, an ideal, you must have tomorrow. In being, there is the cessation of time, therefore there is immediate revolution, which we will discuss as we go along during the many talks we are going to have here. So, it is important to understand first that our approach to any problem must be negative, because any positive approach is merely imitation. And to understand this crumbling social structure, we must approach it negatively, and not through a system, whether that of the left or of the right; and in that approach, we will find that negative thinking is the highest form of understanding, which alone is going to solve the many difficulties of our whole existence. I have several questions, and I will go ahead with the answers. In all these talks I will make introductory remarks, as I have done just now, and then answer questions. Question: What is your solution to the problem of starvation? Krishnamurti: Now, let us first examine the question itself. As I said last Sunday, I have not studied this question. I am considering it now for the first time, So, we are going to examine and understand this problem together, which means you are not going to become the listeners, the observers, and I the one who answers. We are going to examine this problem very carefully together, step by step, because it is your problem as well as mine. So, please do not wait for an answer, but see the implications, the significance of this question, all that is implied in it. Because, as I said, the problem contains the answer; the answer is never outside the problem. If I can understand the problem with all its significance, then the answer is there; but if you have an answer, then you will never understand the problem, because the answer, the conclusion, the formula, intervenes between the problem and yourself. Then you are merely concerned with the answer, and not with the problem itself. Now the question is, "What is your solution to the problem of starvation?" Will any solution bring about an end to starvation? Will any system - which is always implied in a solution - put an end to starvation, whether the system be of the modified right, or of the extreme left? Will the modification of capitalistic society, or a communistic system, put an end to starvation? That is what is implied in this question. When you ask about a solution, you mean a system, don't you? I am not putting into the question something that isn't there. We have several systems: the fascistic, the communistic, the capitalistic systems. As they have not solved the problem of starvation, have you a system that will solve it? So, can any system bring about the ending of starvation? Now, systems become more important than feeding people when the system intervenes between the problem and yourself. Let me put it this way. Why have systems become important? Why have these intervening systems, whether of the left or of the right, become important? They have become important because we think they will solve the problem, that by outward application of certain legislative action, that is, by the outward compulsion of the possessors, of those who have in their hands the things, the machinery, we are going to put an end to the problem. We think that by compulsion we are going to transform society and put an end to starvation. I hope you are following this. We give importance to systems because we think through compulsion, through legislation, through outward action, we can end starvation. Obviously, to a certain extent that is true - we need not even discuss it. But that is not the whole problem, is it? Why have food, clothing, and shelter, become so important in man's life? They are necessary, that is an obvious fact. It would be stupid, one would have to be quite disarranged mentally, to say that they are not necessary. But why have they assumed such overwhelming importance? Do you understand? Or rather, I hope I am making myself clear - it is more polite to put it that way! Why have property, relationship, idea, ideology, become all-consuming - for they are the same thing as food, clothing and shelter, only on a different plane of thought. That is, we look to a system to solve this problem; we say this or that is the best system, the communistic, the socialistic, or the capitalistic, and there we stop. Surely, this is not the answer. If we go a little deeper into the problem, we will ask ourselves why these things, made by the hand or by the mind, have become so extraordinarily significant in our lives. Is it because we need food, clothing, and shelter? But why have they become such a dominating influence in our lives? Surely, if I can find out the truth of that question, then food, clothing, and shelter, however necessary, will become of secondary importance. Then I shall not give undue significance to these things, because I shall not mind whether I have a little more or a little less. Therefore, it is irrelevant to me whether society is organized by this or by that group - I shall not kill, I shall not join either of them to be destroyed by the other. Do you follow? When systems become important, the problem itself becomes secondary; because emphasis is laid on the system, and not on the problem. That is what is happening in the world at the present time. If the whole world were concerned with feeding man, surely, then, the problem would be very simple. The scientists have already discovered enough to make possible the feeding, clothing, and sheltering of man. That is an irrefutable fact. But we do not avail ourselves of these possibilities because we are more concerned with systems than with the feeding of man. We say, `My system is better than your system', and we are preparing to destroy, butcher, liquidate each other. Therefore, what happens? The poor man who is hungry, remains hungry. Whereas, if we do not look to systems, but find out what are the implications of the problem itself, then systems can be used, but they will not become our masters. So, what are the implications of the problem? Why has man, that is, why have you and I, given such an extraordinarily dominant significance to things, to property, to food, clothing, and shelter? We give importance to sensate values, which are food, clothing and shelter, because we use them as a means of psychological self-expansion. That is, food, clothing, and shelter are used by the individual for his own psychological aggrandisement. After all, property has very little meaning in itself. But, psychologically, property becomes of extraordinary significance, because it gives you position, prestige, name, title. So, since it gives you power, position, authority, you hold on to it; and on that you build a system which destroys the equitable distribution of things to man. So, as long as you and I psychologically use property, name, belief - which are the same as food, clothing, and shelter, on a different level - there must be starvation, there must be conflict between man and man. I may not seek power through property, but I become the commissar, the bureaucrat, wielding enormous power, which again brings tension between man and man. As long as you and I, or any group of people, are using food, clothing and shelter as a means of exploitation, of power, the problem of starvation will continue. A system is not the solution to the problem, because a system is in the hands of the few; therefore, the system becomes important. This does not mean that there must not be a system to regulate man and his greed; but this problem can be solved radically, fundamentally, and for all, not through any system, but only when you and I are aware that we are using property, things made by the hand or by the mind, as a means of self-expansion. After all, remove your name, your title, your property, your B.A.'s and M.A.'s, and what are you? You are really a nonentity, aren't you? Without your property, without your medals and all the rest of it, you are nothing. And to cover up that emptiness, you use property, you use name, family. The psychological emptiness of man ever seeks to cover itself with property, which is food, clothing, and shelter. So, the problem of starvation is much more psychological than legislative; it is not a matter of mere enforcement. If we really see the truth of this, we will stop using things as a means of self-expansion and therefore we will help to bring about a new social order. Surely, that is the truth of it: that you and I use things made by the hand or by the mind as a means of self-expansion, and therefore we give extraordinary significance to sensate values. But if we do not give a wrong significance to sensate values, that is, if we do not give the predominating importance to food, clothing, and shelter, then the problem is simple and very easily solved. Then the scientists will come together and give us food, clothing and shelter; but they will not do it now, because, like you and me, they belong to a society which uses things as a means of self-expansion. The scientists are like the rest of us; they may be different in the laboratory, but they are conditioned like you and me. They are nationalistic, psychologically seeking power, and so on. Therefore, there is no solution through them. The only solution to this problem is in ourselves. That is the truth; and if you really understand it, there will be a revolution, that inward revolution which is creative; and therefore there will be a society which is not merely static but creative because it represents you and me. Sir, in understanding what is, which is the problem, truth is discovered. It is the immediate perception of truth that is liberating, not ideation. Ideas merely breed further ideas, and ideas are not in any way going to give happiness to man. Only when ideation ceases is there being; and being is the solution. Question: You say we can remain aware even when in sleep. Please explain. Krishnamurti: This is really a very complex problem needing very careful observation and swift following of thought, and I hope you and I will be able to do it together. I am going to explain this question. Please follow it in yourselves, and not merely listen to my verbal explanation; follow it step by step as I go into it. Consciousness is made up of many layers, is it not? Consciousness is not merely the superficial layer; it is made up of many, many layers, the layers being the hidden motives, the unrevealed intentions, the unsolved problems, memory, tradition, the impingement of the past on the present, the continuation of the past through the present to the future. All that, and more, is consciousness. I am considering what consciousness actually is, not a theory. The many layers of memories, all thoughts, the hidden problems which are not solved and which create memory, the racial instincts, the past in conjunction with the present creating the future - all that is consciousness. Now, most of us are aware, are functioning, only within the superficial layers of consciousness. I hope you are interested in all this; but whether you are interested or not, it is a fact. If merely for information, listen to it. First, I have not read using any special terminology, any jargon of the psychologists; nor have I read any of your sacred books, either of the East or of the West. But in being aware of oneself, one discovers all these things. In oneself is the whole of wisdom. Self-knowledge is the beginning of understanding, and without self-knowledge, there is no right thinking, there is no basis for thought. In understanding this, we are exploring self-knowledge, we are exploring consciousness; and you can explore it directly while I am talking, you can be aware of yourself and have direct experience; or you can merely listen verbally, for information: you can take your choice, it is up to you. So, most of us function in the superficial layers of consciousness; therefore we remain shallow, and therefore our action brings further responses, further reactions, further misery. There is release, liberation, only when the whole of consciousness is thoroughly understood. It is not a matter of time - which we will go into later, during the course of these talks. So, since we function only in the superficial layers of consciousness, naturally it creates problems; it never solves problems, but is always the breeding ground of problems. That is, as most of the activities of our daily existence are the response of those superficially cultivated layers, the whole bag of layers is always breeding more and more problems. Now, when you have a problem created by the superficial layers of consciousness, you try to solve it superficially, like a dog worrying a bone, gnawing at it, struggling with it - that is always the case with the superficial layers of consciousness; and you do not find a solution. Then, what happens? You go to bed, you sleep on it; and when you wake up, you find you have solved the problem, or you see a new way of looking at it and you can solve it. This happens all times to all of us. It is not something extraordinary or mysterious, it is well-known. Now, exactly what has happened? This upper layer of consciousness, the man, the superficial man, has thought about the problem all day long, worried over it, trying to translate it according to his demands, to his prejudices, to his immediate desires. That is, he is seeking an answer, and therefore cannot find it. Then he goes to sleep, and when he is asleep, the superficial consciousness, the upper layer of the mind, is somewhat quiet, relaxed, free from the incessant worry over the problem. Then, into that superficial layer, the hidden projects its solution; and when you wake up, the problem has a different significance. That is a fact. You do not have to become an occultist, you do not have to become very clever to understand it -which would be absurd. If you observe it for yourself, you will see that it is an obvious, everyday fact. But this does not mean that you have to go to sleep to have your problem answered. The problem is there; and if you can approach it openly, without any conclusion, without any answer intervening between you and the problem, then you are immediately and directly in relationship with the problem, and therefore you are open to the hints of the unconscious. Have I explained it too quickly? Perhaps I have. But it doesn't matter, Sir. We are going to meet again several times, because this is a question one has to go into much more deeply. We have touched only one part of it, although most of us are content to leave it at that level. The next point involved in this question is the intimation of the unconscious. Surely, our life is not mere superficial existence. There are vast, hidden resources, treasures of extraordinary importance, of extraordinary delight and greatness and joy, which are always hinting, intimating; and because we are not capable of receiving them directly when we are awake, they become symbols, as dreams, when we sleep. That is, the unconscious, the deep layers, the layers which have not been explored, are always giving intimations, hints of extraordinary significance; but the superficial consciousness is so occupied with its daily existence, its daily worries, its pursuit of bread and butter, that it is incapable of receiving the intimations directly. Therefore the intimations become dreams; and dreams require interpreters, so the psychologists come in and make money. Whereas, there need be no interpretation if there is immediate and direct contact with the unconscious; and this can take place only when the conscious mind is continually being quiet, constantly having an interval, a space between action and action, between thought and thought. Then the other point involved in this is the subjective experience of conversation with another. I do not know if you have ever remembered, when you wake up, having had a long talk with somebody - remembering words, or a word, with extraordinary potency and meaning. This must have happened to you - you remember having a discussion with a friend, with a man whom you respect, with an ascetic, guru or Master. Now, what is that? Is it not still within the field of consciousness? It is still a part of consciousness; therefore it is a self-projection which is translated upon awakening as a conversation with somebody, a direction received from a Master. The Master is still within the framework of consciousness, and it is therefore a projection of the self into the image of the Master. The remembering of a word and the giving of significance to it is one of the ways in which the unconscious functions to impress itself upon the conscious mind. So, this remembering of an event within the field of consciousness is still the intimation or the projection of thought; it is a creation of thought, and therefore not the real. The real comes into being only when thought ceases, when thought no longer creates. The next point involved in the question - and I hope you do not mind my exploring it further - is whether during sleep it is possible to meet a person objectively. Do you understand? That is, can I, during sleep, meet someone objectively, not subjectively? Now that implies identification of thought as the `I'. What is the `I'? What is thought, identified? When I say `Krishnamurti', I mean thought in which there is identification as the man. The man is thought, objectified, which is a continuity; and, surely, it is possible to meet that continuity objectively. This has been proved over and over again -objectively, not subjectively. That is, thought, which is like a wave, a moving wave, is identified, given a name; and that, surely, you can meet objectively. So, those are some of the things involved in this question of remaining aware even in sleep. But all these explanations have no significance whatsoever without self-knowledge. You may repeat what I have said, but repetition is a lie; it is merely propaganda, and it is not true. These things must be experienced, not repeated; and you must experience what is; be aware of the many layers of consciousness which expresses itself in so many different ways. So, there is a very narrow margin of division between the waking-consciousness and the sleeping-consciousness; but since most of you are almost entirely occupied with the waking consciousness, with its worries, its beliefs, the daily anxieties of earning a livelihood, the tension of relationship between yourself and another, all these are preventing the exploration of yourself at a deeper level. And you do not have to explore - surely, the hidden projects itself with an enormous quickness when the mind is not superficially active. Have you not noticed it when you are sitting quietly, not occupied with the radio, when the mind suddenly has a new idea, a new feeling, a new joy; but, unfortunately, what happens? When that creative expression comes into being, you immediately translate it into action, and you want a repetition of it. Therefore, you have lost it. So, the problem of awareness, which we have now dealt with partly, is really very creative, if you can understand it fully. I will go into it later, into the significance of what it is to be aware, But it is important to understand, is it not?, that there cannot be right thinking and therefore right action without self-knowledge; and self-knowledge is not merely the comprehension of the superficial layers, but the complete understanding of the whole consciousness. This is not a matter of time; for, if the attention is there, there is immediate perception, and the urgency of that perception depends on how honest one is. The more one is alert, passively aware, the more one comprehends the deeper layers of consciousness; and I assure you, there is an extraordinary joy in it, in discovering, in fathoming one's whole being. If you pursue understanding, it escapes you; but if you are passively aware, then it unfolds and gives its extraordinary depths. Shall I go on to the next question? Are you tired? Alright, I shall go on with it. Question: You say that full awareness of the problem liberates us from the problem. Awareness depends on interest. What creates interest, what makes one man interested and another indifferent? Krishnamurti: Now, again we are going to examine the question, the problem itself. So, do not intervene with an answer. We are going to discover the content of the problem, and not search out a conclusion. Because, if we have a conclusion, the problem is not understood; if we have answers to our various problems, the pro- blems are never examined. We either quote the Bhagavad Gita, or one of our latest leaders, or a guru, and so never look at the problem itself - which means, we are never directly in relationship with the problem because there is always an intervention between us and the problem in the shape of a conclusion, in the shape of a quotation or an answer. There is never a direct relationship between you and the problem, so the problem loses its significance. To be aware of the problem directly, you have first to be aware that you are intervening, putting a screen between yourself and the problem. Are you? Become directly aware of your own problem, not somebody else's, and you will see what happens. Let us experiment with that. You will see how quickly you can dissolve the problem, if you follow what I am going to suggest. If you have a problem, what is your first response to that problem? Your instant response is that you are looking for an answer. You want to solve it, which mean; you want to run away from the problem by means of an answer; that is, you are more concerned with the discovery of the answer than with the study of the problem. Your guru, your Bhagavad Gita, intervene, which means they are really an escape from the problem. That is a fact, that is what is happening to you. Now, if that is a fact, what happens? You are not concerned with the problem which you are trying to understand; so naturally the problem falls away, and therefore you are not directly in contact with the problem. But what happens when you are directly confronted with the problem without any intervention, when you are directly related to the problem? The problem ceases to be a problem - you understand it entirely, immediately. So, to be aware of a problem implies awareness of the interventions, that is, of the escapes, of the answers, of the unconsciously or consciously seeking in order to avoid the problem - which means that you are not really concerned with the understanding of the problem. So, to have that awareness of a problem, dissolves the problem; it liberates us from the problem. Every moment, the problem is a new problem; the problem is a challenge. Life is a challenge and a response; and when there is a challenge, which is always new, I respond according to my conditioning; but if I can meet the challenge without the conditioning - which is the answer, the conclusion, the quotation -then my mind, being fresh, is able to meet the challenge anew. Therefore, it is capable of instantaneously understanding the problem. Please, it is not a question of your accepting my word for it - experiment with it and you will soon see how extraordinarily awareness dissolves the problem. You taste that awareness in moments of great crisis, when you have got to solve something, when something extraordinarily serious takes place in your life. Then you are not seeking an answer, a guide, an authority. That means you are not escaping from the problem, from the crisis, which means that you are meeting the challenge anew, afresh. To continue with the question. "Awareness depends on interest. What creates interest...?" Why are you interested. Are you not interested now? You are actually listening to me; why? Either you are mesmerized by my words, or there is interest, obviously, I hope you are not mesmerized by my words. Therefore, there is interest. Why are you interested? Because I am interested. I am urgently interested in that which I am saying, and not only for the moment. I am interested vitally in solving the problems of man, which is myself; and because I am enthusiastically, keenly interested, you also are interested. But the moment will come, as soon as you leave this place, when you will fall back into the routine of your property, your ownership, your job, and all the rest of it. You are interested, because I am interested, because I am tremendously concerned. So interest is catching, only then it is not lasting. There is good influence, and bad influence; and since I am not interested in influencing you one way or the other, you lose interest. And to be influenced is wrong, it is fatal; because if you can be influenced by one, you can be influenced by another; like fashion, influence changes and therefore has no significance. But, if you are earnest in yourself, then you are alive, not only now but constantly, to the enormous significance of the crisis. And if you are not interested, it is your misery. What makes one man interested, and another indifferent? What makes you not interested - that is the problem, not the indifference of another. Why are you indifferent? That is the problem, isn't it? Why are you indifferent to the problem of starvation, to the problem of consciousness, to the problem of finding a solution for all existing problems? What makes you indifferent? Why aren't you interested in all this? Have you ever sat down and thought about it? Obviously, we are not interested for the very simple reason that we want distractions: the guru, the leader, the Bhagavad Gita, the Bible and so on. They are all distractions, and distraction dulls the mind. The very function of a guru is to dull your mind. That is why you go to him - to pacify yourself, to give yourself satisfaction. Otherwise, if you did not seek satisfaction, you would never go to a guru. You want satisfaction, and therefore your mind is made dull; and in what can a dull mind interest itself? It is interested in everyday existence, how to put on a new sari beautifully. So, we are caught in the ways of dullness because to think very earnestly is to be discontented, which is very painful; and most of us do not want to invite sorrow. We want to avoid sorrow, and so our whole structure of thought is a confusion, is a distraction. So, what is important is not who is indifferent, but why you yourself are so superficial. Why are you caught in this extraordinary net of suffering? Surely, the answer lies in discovering for ourselves the causes that make us dull, insensitive -insensitive to human suffering, to the trees, to the heavens, to the birds; insensitive to our human relationships. To be sensitive means pain; but we must be painfully sensitive in order to understand. But we stop on this side of pain and try to escape from it, which reduces us to imitative machines. January 25, 1948 BOMBAY 3RD PUBLIC TALK 1ST FEBRUARY, 1948 Is it not important at all times, and especially during these critical days, to think very clearly and to know our feelings very intimately? Obviously, we are not separate from the crisis -whatever happens to a nation, to a group of people, is happening really to each one of us individually; and since we are so intimately connected, we ought to be fully aware and deliberately conscious of our thoughts and feelings. Because, if we are influenced, if we take sides, if we are persuaded by events and are not aware of the causes of the events, then we shall be merely carried away by the events; and as events, local and worldwide, are occurring with extraordinary rapidity, and as their impact is so very strong and fierce, it behoves us, surely, to be extremely clear in our thoughts and very fundamental in our feelings. Because, the stronger the event, the greater the outward mess, the more intense the turmoil and chaos within us. Outward events, being so very close to us, must naturally upset and disturb many; and I think it is right, is it not?, to have very strong feelings strong, directed emotions, unwarped and purposeful, because without any feeling, one is dead. Mere intellectual froth is of no significance in moments of great importance; and there is a danger of translating the great events intellectually and superficially, and thereby passing them by. Whereas, if we are able to follow very closely and very clearly the psychological causes of disturbance and maintain an emotional attention without the interference of the intellect, then perhaps we shall be able to perceive the significance of the issues. I am not merely throwing out a lot of words for you to listen to, but rather, by talking it over together, as we are doing now, perhaps we shall be able to clarify the confused state of our own mind and emotions. So, as I am going to answer questions this evening, I hope you will follow them, not merely verbally or intellectually, because that has very little significance; but rather follow what is being said as though it were actually happening. Because, surely, the responsibility for any crisis does not lie with another - it lies with you and me as individuals; and to understand any crisis, like the present one which is localized in India, we ought to approach it very diligently, with intensity, with clarification, with the intention of going into it very fully and seeing all its significance, all its depths. As I said, I am going to answer questions this evening; and answers have little meaning if you are merely waiting for an answer; but if we analyze, think out the problem together - not merely you listening and I explaining - , if we go into it together, then perhaps that very thought process will create an understanding, a revelation. Question: What are the real causes of Mahatma Gandhi's untimely death? Krishnamurti: I wonder what your reaction was when you heard the news. What was your response? Were you concerned over it as a personal loss, or as an indication of the trend of world events? If it was felt merely as an identified personal loss, then we have to analyze that feeling very carefully, very intelligently, very purposefully; and if it was seen as an indication of the trend of events in the world crisis, this also has to be closely followed. So, we must find out how we approach this problem, whether as a personal loss, or as an indication of the whole catastrophe that is taking place in the world. Now, if it is an identified personal loss, then it has quite a different significance. There is in all of us the tendency to identify ourselves with something greater, whether it is a nation, a person, an idea, an image, a thought, or a superior consciousness; because, it is so much more satisfying to be identified with a group, with a nation, or with a person representing the nation - Hitler or Stalin on the one side, and Gandhiji on the other, and so on. So, there is identification with something greater; and when anything happens to that person, or to that idea, or to that group or nation, there is a shattering of that response. Aren't you feeling it, Sir? The desire to identify ourselves with something is obvious, is it not? Because, in oneself one is nothing, empty, shallow, petty; and by identifying oneself with a country, with a leader, with a group, one becomes something, one is something. In this very identification lies the danger; because, if you are aware of it, you will see that it leads to the most extraordinary barbarities in history, in our daily life. That is, if you identify yourself with a country, with a community, with a group of people, with an idea, with the communalistic spirit, then, surely, you are responsible for any calamity that happens; because, if you are merely an instrument which identifies itself with some cause or some person, then you are being used, and the calamity, the crisis, the catastrophe, is created by that very identification. So, that is one side of the problem; and the question should be really, what are the contributory causes which I have created to bring about this incident, this misery, this catastrophe?'. Surely, that is the real question, is it not? Because, we are individually responsible for everything that is happening in the world at the present time. World events are not unrelated incidents: they are related. The real cause of Gandhiji's untimely death lies in you. The real cause is you. Because you are communalistic, you encourage the spirit of division through property, through caste, through ideology, through having different religions, sects, leaders. So, obviously, you are responsible, aren't you? And it is no good merely hanging one man - you have all contributed to that death. The question is, in what way have you contributed to it? I am purposely not including myself in it, because I am not a communalist, I am not Hindu or Indian, I am not nationalistic or internationalistic. Therefore, I am excluding myself from it, not because I am superior, but because I do not think in those terms at all - of belonging to one group or to one religion, of having property which is `mine'. I am deliberately, consciously excluding myself - please understand that it is not because I feel myself to be superior to others. Identification with a group, with a nation, with a community, with property, does lead to misery, does it not? Such identification obviously leads to murders, to disasters, to chaos, and you are responsible for it, because you do believe in Hinduism with its many different facets, which are all absurd. You are either a Hindu, a Parsee, a Buddhist, or a Mussulman - you know, the whole rot of identified division, isolation. So, since you have identified yourself with a group, you are responsible, aren't you? You are the real cause of this murder. I am not being dramatic, which would be too absurd; but that is the fact, is it not? So, the real cause is you - not some mysterious, unknown cause. When a so-called nation is made up of separate groups, each seeking power, position, authority, wealth, you are bound to produce, not one man's death, but thousands and millions of deaths - it is inevitable. So, the fundamental issue really is whether human beings can exist in identified isolation; and history has shown over and over again that it is destruction to man. When you call yourself a Hindu, a Mussulman, a Parsee, or God knows what else, it is bound to produce conflict in the world. If you observe so-called religion, organized religion, you will see that it is essentially based on isolation, separatism: the Christian, the Hindu, the Mussulman, the Buddhist; and when you worship an image or no image, when you prevent somebody from going into your temples - as if reality lies in the temple! - , surely you are responsible for conflict and violence, aren't you? Please, I am not haranguing, I am not interested in convincing you; but we are both interested in finding the truth of the matter. So, this is not just a political harangue, which has no meaning at all. To find the truth, to see that we are responsible for what happens, we must think very closely, directly. When you have a religion to which you belong, an organized religion, that very fact creates conflict between man and man; and when belief becomes stronger than affection, stronger than love, when belief is more important than humanity and your whole makeup is one of belief - whether belief in God or in an ideology, in communalism or in nationalism - , obviously you are the very cause of destruction. I do not know if you feel the extra, ordinary importance of all this - or thinking it out very clearly and not hiding behind words. Then there is the obvious fact of division through property, through the sense of acquisitiveness. Property in itself has very little meaning: you can sleep in only one room, one bed; but the desire for position, the urge to acquire, to make yourself secure when everybody around you is insecure - surely, this sense of acquisitiveness, this sense of ownership, this sense of possession, is one of the causes of the appalling misery in the world. It is not that you must give up property, but let us be aware of its significance, of its meaning in action; and when one is aware of it, one naturally gives up all these things. It is not difficult to renounce, it is not a travail to give up property, when you see directly that your relationship with property leads to misery, not for one person, but for millions; and that you are fighting over property. These are not just words, if you analyze them - property and belief really are the two chief causes of conflict. Property as a means of personal aggrandizement, property as a means of permanent self-continuity, gives you position, power, prestige. Without property you are nothing, obviously; therefore, property becomes extraordinarily important, for which you are prepared to kill, maim, destroy people. Similarly with organized religions and political ideologies, implying belief. Belief becomes very important - because, without belief, where are you? Without calling yourself by a communalistic, isolating name, where are you? You are lost, aren't you? So, because you feel the threat to yourself, you identify yourself with property, with belief, with ideologies, and so on, which inevitably breeds destruction. In how many different ways you try to isolate yourselves from others! This isolation is the real cause of conflict and violence. So, you are responsible, Sirs - and Ladies, with your beautiful saris and fashionable skirts. This event has also a world significance. We justify and have accepted evil as a means to good. War is justified because we say it is going to bring us peace - which is obviously using a wrong means to produce a right end. But the trend of the world is in that direction; groups of people, whole nations, are preparing for the ultimate in destruction - as if they were going to be peaceful at the end of it. This event is really an indication, is it not?, of the tendency of human beings to sacrifice the present for the future. We are going to create a marvellous world, but in the meantime we are going to butcher you; we are going to liquidate you for the sake of the future. You don't matter; what matters is the idea, the future - whatever that may mean. After all, the future, whether to the left or to the right, is as uncertain to me as it is to you; the future is changeable, liable to be modified, and we are sacrificing the present for an unknown future. That is the greatest form of illusion, isn't it? But that is one of the tendencies of the world - and that is what is taking place now. That is, we have an ideological future for which human beings are sacrificed: to save man we are killing man. And we are caught in that - you are caught in that. You want future security, therefore you are destroying present security. Surely, understanding is only in the present and not in the future. Comprehension is now not tomorrow. Now, these two extraordinary tendencies that are prevalent in the world at the present time, indicate, do they not?, an utter lack of love - not a mysterious love of the Supreme and all that rot, but ordinary love between two human beings. You know, one notices as one travels across the world an utter lack of the sense of love in human beings. There are plenty of sensations, sexual, intellectual, or environmental sensations, but actual affection for somebody, loving somebody with your whole being - that does not exist, for the obvious reason that you have cultivated intellect. You are marvellous at passing examinations, spinning out theories, speculating on the market, making money - which are all indications of the supremacy of the intellect. And when the intellect becomes supreme, you are bound to have disaster, because the heart is empty; so you fill it with words and the fabrications of the intellect. That is what one notices to an extraordinary extent in the world at the present time. Aren't you full of theories, either of the left or of the right, as to how to solve the problem of the world? But your heart is empty, isn't it? And surely the problem is very simple, if you actually look at it. As long as you are identified with property, with name, with caste, with a particular government, community, ideology, belief, you are bound to create destruction and misery in the world. So, it is you who are the real cause of his murder; it is you who have brought about this killing of man by man. You accept organized murder on a grand scale as a fair means during war, but when it is done to one person, you are horrified. Is it not true, Sir, that you as an individual have lost all sensitivity, all sense of real values and of the significance of existence? To understand this question, we have to transform ourselves radically, because that is what is needed to revolutionize absolutely our ways of thinking and feeling and acting. You want to bring about a revolution merely in action, which has no meaning at all; because without a revolution in you and in your feeling, you cannot produce a revolution in action; you cannot produce a revolution except individually. Since you are responsible, since you are the cause of this murder, and to prevent future murders, you yourself have to change radically, haven't you?, and not talk about gods and theories, karma and reincarnation; you have to be actually aware of what is taking place within yourself. And since it is extremely difficult and arduous to be aware, you spin out theories, you escape through property, through name and family, and all the rest of the absurdities which bring about destruction. So, since you are responsible for this murder, and for past and future murders, whether of one person or of millions, you have to change. You have to be transformed, not by beginning at a distance, but by beginning very close, by observing the ways of your thinking and feeling and acting every day. Surely, if you are interested, if you are serious-minded, that is the only way to bring about transformation, is it not? But if you are emotionally excited by events, if you have been drugged by political harangues during ever so many years, naturally you will feel little response. But, whether you like it or not, you are responsible for the miseries outside, because in yourself you are miserable, confused, anxious, without love. Question: Is the third war inevitable? Krishnamurti: There is no such thing as inevitability, is there? A country, being aware of its own weakness, of its own strength, can say, `No, we are not going to fight'. It is one of the tendencies of the left to push when there is not much pressure, and to yield when the pressure is too great; so you can always withdraw and wait and organize. There is no inevitability about war, but it looks very much like that because the issues involved are so vast. Ideologies are at war, the right and the left. There is the ideology which says that matter moves of itself, and the ideology which says that matter is moved, acted upon by the divine idea. On the one side there is the idea of God acting upon matter, and on the other, the idea that matter itself is in movement and producing outside circumstances, and that there- fore rigid control of environment is important. I am not discussing the ideologies, whether they are right or wrong. We will go into that question another Sunday. But, these two ideas are diametrically opposed - at least, they think they are opposed. And this brings up a very complex problem; whether the left is not based on the right, is not a continuation of the right; whether every opposite is not the continuation of its own opposite. But when two strong parties are each determined to have position, power, naturally it is going to destroy man, caught in between; and that is what is happening in this country, in your own family. When you dominate your wife or your husband, when you are possessive, when you cling to power in a small circle, aren't you contributing to world chaos? When belief in nationalism dominates you. When your country becomes of supreme importance - which is happening in every nation - , then is not a catastrophe of great destruction inevitable? Surely, Sir, the very existence of an army is an indication of war. It is the function of the general to prepare for war; and when you have developed a weapon like the atomic bomb, where are you going to experiment with it? So, again, war is directly related to us. If you are a nationalist, you are contributing to war. If you have enclosed yourself in property, you are contributing to war. If nationalism, communalism, if your own country or your own group becomes the most important thing, obviously you are contributing to war. Our very existence every day is producing war because we have no peace at all. Surely, if there is to be peace in the world, you yourself have to be peaceful. If I want to be peaceful with you, I must be adaptable, I must be considerate, I must not be dominating; but if neither you nor I are adaptable, if we insist on dominating it is bound to produce a catastrophe. An American lady came to see me a couple of years ago, during the war. She said she lost her son in Italy, and that she had another son aged 16 whom she wanted to save; so, we discussed and talked the thing over. I suggested to her that, to save her son, she had to cease to be an American; she had to cease to be greedy, cease piling up wealth, seeking power, domination, and be morally simple - not merely simple in clothes, in outward things, but simple in her thoughts and feelings, in her relationships. She said, "That is too much. You are asking far too much. I cannot do it, because circumstances are too powerful for me to alter". Therefore, she was responsible for the destruction of her son. Circumstances can be controlled by us, because we have created the circumstances. Society is the product of relationship, of yours and mine together. If we change in our relationship, society changes; but merely to rely on legislation, on compulsion, for the transformation of outward society while remaining inwardly corrupt, while continuing inwardly to seek power, position, domination, is to destroy the outward, however carefully and scientifically built. That which is inward is always overcoming the outward. So, again, Sir, the inevitability or the cessation of war depends upon us, upon you and me. Surely, we can change, can't we? We can transform ourselves - it is not difficult if we put our minds and hearts into it. But we are too sluggish, we leave it to the other fellow; we want easy ways, undisturbed thoughts, inward security. Desiring inward security, we seek it through outward things, through property, belief, temples, churches, mosques. When you seek inward security, you create insecurity. By the very desire to be psychologically secure, you create destruction. That is obvious -it is being repeated in history over and over again. Outward security is essential - food, clothing and shelter. But Man wants to be psychologically secure; so he uses food, clothing, shelter, and ideas, as a means of psychological security - and therefore brings destruction. So, it is again up to you and me to prevent what seems to be inevitable. Wars are inevitable as long as individual human beings are in conflict with each other, which is an indication that they are in conflict within themselves. We want transformation through legislation, through outward revolution, through systems, but yet we are inwardly untransformed. Inwardly we are disturbed, we are confused; and without bringing order, peace and happiness inwardly, we cannot have peace and happiness outwardly in the world. Question: Can we realize on the spot the truth that you are speaking of, without any previous preparation? Krishnamurti: What do you mean by truth? Do not let us use a word of which we do not know the meaning; but we can use a simpler word, a more direct word. Can you understand, can you comprehend a problem directly? That is what is implied, is it not? Can you understand what is immediately, now? Because, in understanding what is, you will understand the significance of truth; but to say that one must understand truth, has very little meaning. So, can you understand a problem directly, fully, and be free of it? That is what is implied in this question, is it not? Can you understand a crisis, a challenge, immediately, see its whole significance and be free of it. Because, what you understand leaves no mark; therefore, understanding, or truth, is the liberator. And can you be liberated now from a problem, from a challenge? Life is, is it not?, a series of challenges and responses; and if your response to a challenge is conditioned, limited, incomplete, then that challenge leaves its mark, its residue, which is further strengthened by another new challenge. So, there is constant residual memory, accumulations, scars; and with all these scars, you try to meet the new, and therefore you never meet the new. Therefore you never understand, there is never a liberation from any challenge. I hope I am making myself clear. So, the problem, the question is, whether I can understand a challenge completely, directly, sense all its significance, all its perfume, its depth, its beauty and its ugliness, and so be free of it. Sir, challenge is always new, is it not? The problem is always new, is it not? The problem is always new - a question like this is always new. I do not know if you follow that. A problem which you had yesterday, for example, has undergone such modification that when you meet it today, it is already new. But you meet it with the old, because you meet it without transforming, modifying your own thoughts. Let me put it in a different way. I met you yesterday. In the meantime, you have changed. You have undergone a modification, but I still have yesterday's picture of you. So, I meet you today with my picture of you, and therefore I do not understand you - I understand only the picture of you, which I acquired yesterday. Sir, if I want to understand you who are modified, changed, I must remove, I must be free of the picture of yesterday. That is, to understand a challenge, which is always new, I must also meet it anew, there must be no residue of yesterday; so, I must say adieu to yesterday. After all, what is life? It is something new all the time, is it not? It is something which is ever undergoing change, creating a new feeling. Today is never the same as yesterday, and that is the beauty of life. So, can I, can you, meet any problem anew? Can you, when you go home, meet your wife and your child anew, meet the challenge anew? You will not be able to do it if you are burdened with the memories of yester- day. Therefore, to understand the truth of a problem, of a relationship, you must come to it afresh - not with an `open mind', for that has no meaning. You must come to it without the scars of yesterday's memories - which means, as each challenge arises, be aware of all the responses of yesterday; and by being aware of yesterday's residue, memories, you will find that they drop away without struggle, and therefore your mind is fresh. So, can one realize truth immediately, without preparation? I say yes - not out of some fancy of mine, not out of some illusion; but psychologically experiment with it, and you will see. Take any challenge, any small incident - don't wait for some great crisis - , and see how you respond to it. Be aware of it, of your responses, of your intentions, of your attitudes, and you will understand them, you will understand your background. I assure you, you can do it immediately if you give your whole attention to it. That is, if you are seeking the full meaning of your background, it yields its significance; and then you discover in one stroke the truth, the understanding of the problem. Surely, understanding comes into being from the now, the present, which is always timeless. Though it may be tomorrow, it is still the now; and merely to postpone, to prepare to receive that which is tomorrow, is to prevent yourself from understanding what is now. Surely, you can understand directly what is now, can't you? But to understand what is, you have to be undisturbed, undistracted, you have to give your mind and heart to it. It must be your sole interest at that moment, completely. Then what is gives you its full depth, its full meaning; and thereby you are free of that problem. Sir, if you want to know the truth, the significance, the psychological significance of property, if you really want to understand it directly, now, how do you approach it? Surely, you must feel akin to the problem, you must not be afraid of it, you must not have any creed, any answer between yourself and the problem. Only when you are directly in relationship with the problem, then you will find the answer. But if you introduce an answer, if you judge, have a psychological disinclination, then you will postpone, you will prepare to understand tomorrow what is always there. Therefore you will never understand. So, to perceive truth needs no preparation; preparation implies time, and time is not the means of understanding truth. Time is continuity, and truth is timeless, it is non-continuous. Understanding is non-continuous, it is from moment to moment, unresidual. I am afraid I am making it all very difficult, am I not? It is easy, simple to understand, if you will experiment with it; but if you go into a dream, meditate over it, it becomes very difficult. Surely, when there is no barrier between you and me, I understand you. If I am open to you, I understand you directly' - and to be open is not a matter of time. Will time make me open? Will preparation, system, discipline, make me open to you? No, sir. What will make me open to you is my intention to be open, I want to be open because I have nothing to hide, I am not afraid; therefore I am open, and therefore there is instant communion, there is truth. To receive truth, to know its beauty, to know its joy, there must be instant receptivity, unclouded by theories, fears and answers. It is quarter past seven. Shall I go on? Yes? Question: Does Gandhiji continue to exist today? Krishnamurti: Do you really want to know? Yes? What is implied in this question? If he continues to live, then you also will continue to live; so, you want to know the truth of continuity. If I die, will I continue? Will I have a being, or will I be destroyed altogether? Now, Sirs, probably most of you believe in reincarnation, in continuity. Therefore, your belief is preventing you from finding the truth of this question. You understand? Here is a challenge. We are going to experiment with what I said in answer to the previous question. We are going to experiment, to find out the truth of this matter - directly, not tomorrow. To understand directly, you must put away your belief in reincarnation, mustn't you? You do not know, it is only a belief. Even though you may think you have proof of continuity, it is still in the field of thought. Mind can deceive itself and fabricate anything it wishes. So, we want to find the truth of this challenge, and to find the truth of it, we must come to it afresh, with a new mind; because, to understand now, not tomorrow, a new mind, a fresh mind, is necessary. Now, in order to find the truth, I must discover what is preventing the mind from being fresh. I am not answering whether Gandhiji lives or not - we will come to that later. But to understand, there must be freshness. So, I am going to find out if my mind is clouded. As I am full of anxiety, full of hope, full of desire for continuity, I am obviously clouded; therefore, I cannot comprehend the new challenge, `Is there continuity?'. To understand it now, immediately, I must understand the various blockades that are preventing the mind from being fresh, new, so that it receives the new. Now, what is continuity? Are you interested in all this, Sirs, or are you merely listening? For the moment, forget that you are merely listening, and experiment with me as I go along, I am thinking aloud with you about this problem. It is your problem as well as mine - I am only giving expression to it. It is your problem, so follow it, experiment with it step by step. Now, what is it that we call continuity? What is it that continues? It is either one of two things: Either it is a spiritual entity, and therefore beyond time, or it is merely memory, giving itself continuity through the residue of experience. Do you follow? Am I making myself clear? That is, if I am a spiritual entity, then I am timeless; therefore there is no continuity. Because, that which is spirituality, truth, godliness, is beyond time; therefore it is not the continuity we know of as tomorrow and the future. Do you follow? If what I am is a spiritual entity. it must be without continuity, it cannot progress, it cannot grow, it cannot become; but actually, what I am thinks that it must become, that is, I am thinking in terms of becoming. Therefore I am not a spiritual entity. Because, if I am a spiritual entity, I am not becoming; then death and life are one, then there is timelessness, there is eternity. But you are thinking in terms of becoming, therefore you are caught in time. Don't go to sleep over this - we are experimenting together. So, if you are a spiritual entity, then you don't have to bother about it, then you don't have to find out if there is continuity or not. It is finished - there is deathlessness. But you are not that; you are afraid, and that is why you want to know if there is continuity. So, you are left with only one thing, which is memory. Do you follow, Sirs? You cannot quibble between the two. If you are a spiritual entity, then you are not concerned about death, about continuity, about time; because, that which is spiritual is eternal, timeless. But you are not in that state of being. You are in the state of becoming, in the state of continuing, wanting to know if there is continuity or not. This very question indicates that you are not in the other state of being - therefore we can leave it alone. So, what is it that continues? What is it that continues in your daily life? Obviously, not the spiritual entity. It is your memory identified with property, name, relationship and ideas, is it not? If you had no memory, property would have no meaning. If you had no memory of yesterday, property would have no meaning whatsoever, nor would relationship, nor would ideas. You are seeking continuity and establishing it through property, through family, through idea, which is the `I', and you want to know if the `I' continues. Now, when you talk of the `I', what is it? It is name, qualities, ideas, your bank account, your position, character, ideation - which is all memory, isn't it? Sir, I am not pushing you to accept anything. I am stating what actually is, not dealing with theories or speculations. We are experimenting to see if we can find the truth of the question and be liberated from the problem of continuity. So, what causes continuity? Obviously, memory. How does memory come into being? Very simply: There is perception, contact, sensation, desire, and identification. I perceive a car, there is the perception of a car; then there is contact, then sensation, then the desire to own, and then it is `mine'. So, the-`I' is the residue of memory; however much it is divided, as the higher self, and the lower self, it is still within the field of memory - which is obvious, whether you accept it or not. When you think of God, it is still in the field of memory. When you talk of the higher self, when you talk about Brahman, it is still within the field of memory; and memory is incomplete understanding. That is, have you not noticed that when you understand a thing, it leaves no scar of memory? That is why love is not memory. Love is a state of being, it is not a continuity. It becomes continuity only when there is no love. So, there is no continuity if there is no memory. That is, thought identified must continue; but if there is no identification, there is no continuity, and memory is the very basis of identification. Through continuity, is there ever renewal? Do you understand? The `I' continues from memory to memory - the memory of my achievements, my faculties, my properties, my family, my ideation, my thoughts, and so on. All that is the `I', the self, whether a higher or a lower self. That is the `I'. Now, will that continuity ever bring a renewal, a rebirth, a freshness, a newness? Will continuity bring the understanding of truth? Surely not. That which continues has no renewal, has no freshness, no newness, because it is merely continuing in a modified form that which was yesterday. It is memory, and memory is not a process of renewal. There is no renewal through memory, through continuity - there is renewal only when there is an ending, there is freshness only when there is a death, when idea ceases. Then each day there is renewal, When `I' ceases to be each day, each minute, there is renewal. Where there is continuity, there is no renewal; and it is continuity that we are all craving. This question as to whether Gandhiji continues means really , `Do I continue?' - `I', identified with him. You will continue, obviously, as long as there is identification, because memory continues; but in that there is no renewal. Memory is time, and time is not the door to reality; through time, you can never come to the timeless. Therefore, there must be an ending, which means that in order to find the real there must be death every minute, death to your possessions, to your position, not to love. Obviously, there is continuity when thought is identified. But continuity can never lead to the real, because continuity is merely thought identified as the `I' which is memory; and there is renewal, rebirth, freshness, newness, a timeless state of being, only when there is a death, an ending, from moment to moment. Truth, reality, God, or what you will, does not come into being through the process of time. It comes into being only when time, when memory, ceases. When you as memory are absent, when you as memory function not, when that activity as the `I' ceases, then there is an ending. In that ending, there is renewal; and in that renewal there is reality. February 1, 1948 BOMBAY 4TH PUBLIC TALK 8TH FEBRUARY, 1948 I think it is important to understand that there is being, only when there is no longer the thinker, and it is only in being that there can be radical transformation. Ideas cannot transform; the modification of thoughts cannot bring about revolution, radical revolution. There can be radical revolution only when the thinker comes to a standstill, when the thinker ends, When do you have creative moments, a sense of joy, a sense of beauty? Surely, only when the thinker is absent, when the thought process ceases for a second, for a minute, for a period of time; then, in that space, there is creative joy. That is real revolution, because then the thinker ceases, and thereby there is a possibility of radical transformation, radical rebirth. So, our problem is how to bring about an end to the thinker - it is not a matter of the transformation, the modification of ideas, either of the left or of the right. Only in bringing the thinker to an end is there creativeness. Perhaps you have experienced that while watching a sunset, when there is great beauty: the intensity of it drives the thinker away, and within that moment there is an extraordinary sense of joy. That creative moment brings revolution, which is a state of being. The thinker ceases, not as a result of transforming thoughts, but only by understanding the movements of the thinker and therefore coming to the central issue, the problem itself, which is the thinker. When the thinker is aware of his own movements, when the mind is aware of itself in action -which is not the thinker altering thoughts, but the thinker being aware of himself - , then you will find there comes a period when the mind is absolutely still, when it is meditative, when it is not attracted, not agitated. Then, in that moment, when the thinker is silent, there comes creative being which, if you will experiment, you will find is the foundation of all radical transformation. Now I am going to answer several questions. Question: Can one love truth without loving man? Can one love man without loving truth? Which comes first? Krishnamurti: Surely, Sir, love comes first. Because, to love truth, you must know truth; and to know truth is to deny it. What is known is not truth, because what is known is already encased in time; therefore, it ceases to be truth. Truth is in constant movement and therefore cannot be measured in time or in words; it cannot be held in your fist. So, to love truth is to know truth - you cannot love something that you do not know. But truth is not to be found in books, in idolatry, in temples. It is to be found in action, in living, in thinking; and since love comes first, which is obvious, the very search for the unknown is love itself, and you cannot search for the unknown without being in relationship with others. You cannot seek out reality, God, or what you will, by withdrawing into isolation. You can find the unknown only in relationship, only when man is related to man. Therefore, the love of man is the search for reality. Without loving man, without loving humanity, there cannot be search for the real; because, when I know you, at least when I try to know you in relationship, in that relationship I am beginning to know myself. Relationship is a mirror in which I am discovering myself - not my higher self, but the whole, total process of myself. The higher self and the lower self are still within the field of the mind; and without understanding the mind, the thinker, how can I go beyond thought and discover? The very relationship is the search for the real, because that is the only contact I have with myself; therefore, the understanding of myself in relationship is the beginning of life, surely. If I do not know how to love you, you with whom I am in relationship, how can I search for the real and therefore love the real? Without you, I am not, am I? I cannot exist apart from you, I cannot be in isolation. Therefore, in our relationship, in the relationship between you and me, I am beginning to understand myself; and the understanding of myself is the beginning of wisdom, is it not? Therefore, the search for the real is the beginning of love in relationship. To love something, you must know it, you must understand it, mustn't you? To love you, I must know you, I must enquire, I must find out, I must be receptive to all your moods, your changes, and not merely enclose myself in my ambitions, pursuits and desires; and in knowing you, I am beginning to discover myself. Without you, I cannot be; and if I do not understand that relationship between you and me, how can there be love? And surely, without love there is no search, is there? You cannot say that one must love truth; because, to love truth, you must know truth. Do you know truth? Do you know what reality is? The moment you know something, it is already over, is it not? It is already in the field of time, therefore it ceases to be truth. So, our problem is, how can a dry heart, an empty heart, know truth? It cannot. Truth, sir, is not something distant. It is very near, but we do not know how to look for it. To look for it, we must understand relationship, not only with man but with nature, with ideas; I must understand my relationship with the earth, and my relationship with ideation, as well as my relationship with you; and in order to understand, surely there must be openness. If I want to understand you, I must be open to you, I must be receptive, I must not withhold anything - there cannot be an isolating process. Therefore, in understanding there is truth and to understand there must be love; for without love, there cannot be understanding. So, it is not man or truth that comes first, but love; and love comes into being only in understanding relationship, which means that one is open to relationship, and therefore open to reality. Truth cannot be invited - it must come to you. To search for truth, is to deny truth. Truth comes to you when you are open, when you are completely without a barrier, when the thinker is no longer thinking; producing, manufacturing, when the mind is very still - not forced, not drugged, not mesmerized by words, by repetition. Truth must come; and when the thinker goes after truth, he is merely pursuing his own gain. Therefore, truth eludes him. The thinker can be observed only in relationship; and to understand, there must be love. Without love, there is no search. Question: You cannot build a new world in the way you are doing it now. It is obvious that the method of training laboriously a few chosen disciples will not make any difference to humanity. It cannot. You may be able to leave a mark like Gandhiji, Mohammed, Buddha, Krishna, have done. But, they have not fundamentally changed the world - nor will you, unless you discover an entirely new way of approach to the problem. Krishnamurti: Let us think it out together. The question implies, does it not?, that the wave of destruction, the wave of confusion, is co-existent with life; that the wave of destruction, and life, are always together, running together simultaneously, and there is no interval between them. So, the questioner says, `You may have a few disciples who understand, a few who really perceive and transform themselves, but they cannot transform the world'. And that is the problem: That man should be transformed, not just a few. Christ, Buddha, and others have not transformed the world, because the wave of destruction is always sweeping over mankind; and the questioner says, `Have you a different way of solving this problem? If not, you will be like the rest of the teachers. A few may come out of the chaos, the confusion, but the majority will be swallowed up, destroyed'. You understand the problem, don't you? That is, the few who escape from the burning house hope to draw others from the fire; but since the vast majority are doomed to burn, many who are burning invent the theory of the process of time: in the next life it will be alright. So, they look to time as a means of transformation. That is the problem, is it not? A few of us may be out of this chaos, but the vast majority are held in the net of time, in the net of becoming, in the net of sorrow; and can they be transformed? Can they leave the burning house instantaneously, completely? If not, the wave of confusion, the wave of misery, is continuously covering them up, continuously destroying them. That is the problem, isn't it? I am only explaining, studying the question. So, is there a new approach to the problem? Otherwise, only a few can be saved - which means the wave of destruction, the wave of confusion, is always pursuing man. That is the problem, isn't it, Sirs? Now, let us try to find the truth of it. Is it not possible for us to step out of time - all of us here, not by some self-hypnotic process, but actually? That is the problem involved. Can you and I, can you who are listening to me, step out of the process of time, so that you are free from chaos? Because, as long as you believe in that process, that is, as long as you say you are becoming free from chaos through the process of time, you and chaos are always co-existent. I do not know if I am explaining myself. That is, if you think that you will become free from chaos, you will never be free, because the becoming is part of the chaos. Either we understand now, or never. If you say, `I will understand tomorrow', you are really postponing; you are really inviting the wave of destruction. So, our problem is to put an end to the becoming process, and therefore put an end to time. As long as you think in terms of becoming - `I will be good', `I will be noble', `I will be something tomorrow which I am not today' - , in that becoming is implied the time process, and in the time process there is confusion. So, there is confusion because you are thinking in terms of becoming. Now, instead of becoming, can you be? - in which alone there is transformation, radical transformation. Becoming is a process of time, being is free from time. And, as I explained earlier, only in being can there be transformation, not in becoming; only in ending is there renewal, not in continuity. Continuity is becoming. When you end something, there is a being; and it is only in being, that there can be fundamental, radical transformation. So, our problem is to put an end to becoming - not chronological becoming, as yesterday became today and today becomes tomorrow, but - , psychological becoming. Can you put an end instantaneously to that becoming? That is the only new approach, is it not? Every other way is the old approach. Do you understand the question? At present, all forms of approach are gradual. I am this, but I will become that tomorrow; I am a clerk, but I will be the manager in ten years' time; I am angry, but I will slowly become virtuous. That is becoming, which is the process of time; and where there is time, there must be the wave of confusion also. So, our problem is, can we immediately and altogether stop thinking in terms of becoming? That is the only new approach otherwise, we repeat the old approach. I say it is possible. I say you can do it, you can cease to be caught in the net of time, in the net of becoming, you can cease to think in terms of time, in terms of the future, in terms of yesterday. You can do it, and you are doing it now; you do it when you are tremendously interested, when the thought process ceases entirely, when there is complete concentration, complete awareness. That is, Sirs, you do it when you are face to face with a new problem. Now, this is a new problem - how to bring time to an end. As it is a new problem, you must be completely new in regard to it, must you not? Because, if you think in terms of the old, surely you are then translating the new problem into the old and therefore confusing, misinterpreting the problem. When it is a new problem, you must come to it anew; and that which is new is timeless. So, the point is this: Can you, as you are now sitting here listening to me, free yourself from time? Can you be aware of that state of being in which there is no time? If you are aware of that state of being, you will see that there is a tremendous revolution taking place instantaneously, because the thinker has ceased. It is the thinker that produces the process of becoming. So, time can be brought to an end, time has a stop - not chronological time, but psychological time. Now, look: Many of you are gazing at somebody else - you are more interested in seeing who is coming and who is going. Therefore, what has happened? You are not interested to discover what it is to be without time; and you can discover what it is to be free from the net of time only when you give your whole mind and heart to it, your whole attention - not the attention which is merely exclusive. That, surely, is right meditation, is it not? For thought to end is the beginning of real meditation; and then only is there a revolution, a fundamentally new approach to existence. The new approach is to bring time to an end; and I say it can be done instantaneously, if you are interested. You can step from the river onto the shore at any point. The river of becoming ceases when you understand the time process; but to understand, you must give your heart and mind to it. You are free of time only when there is complete absorption in understanding, -which you are doing now. You are very quiet. You are quiet, because we are discussing, we are forcing the issue. But you cease to be quiet the moment the issue disappears. If you maintain, if you keep that issue clearly in front of you all the time, the stepping out of time becomes an extraordinarily absorbing problem; and I say that for any who are willing to give their mind and heart to it, it is possible to step out of time. That is the only new approach, and therefore it can bring about a radical transformation in society. Question: When I listen to you, all seems clear and new. At home, the old, dull restlessness asserts itself. What is wrong with me? Krishnamurti: What is actually taking place in our lives? There is constant challenge and response. That is existence, that is life, is it not? - a constant challenge and response. The challenge is always new, and the response is always old. I met you yesterday, and you come to me today. You are transformed, you are modified, you have changed, you are new; but I have the picture of you as you were yesterday. Therefore, I absorb the new into the old. I don't meet you anew, but I have yesterday's picture of you; so, my response to challenge is always conditioned. Here, for the moment, you cease to be a Brahmin, you cease to be high-caste, or whatever it is - you forget everything. You are just listening, absorbed, trying to find out. But, when you go out of this place, you become yourself - you are back in your caste, your system, your job, your family. That is, the new is always being absorbed into the old, into the old habits, customs, ideas, traditions, memories. There is never the new, for you are always meeting the new with the old - the challenge is new, but you meet it with the old. So, the problem in this question is, how to free thought from the old, so as to be new all the time? When you see a flower, when you see a face, when you see the sky, when you see a tree, when you see a car, when you see a smile, how are you to meet it anew? Why is it that we do not meet it anew? Why is it that the old absorbs the new, and modifies it; why does the new cease when you go home? Now, the old response arises from the thinker. Is not the thinker always the old? Because your thought is founded on the past, when you meet the new it is the thinker who is meeting it; the experience of yesterday is meeting it. The thinker is always the old. So, we come back to the same problem in a different way: How to free the mind from itself as the thinker? How to eradicate memory, not factual memory, but psychological memory, which is the accumulation of experience? Because, without freedom from the residue of experience, there can be no reception of the new. Now, to free thought, to be free of the thought process and so to meet the new, is arduous, is it not? Because, all our beliefs, all our traditions, all our methods in education, are a process of imitation, copying, memorizing, building up the reservoir of memory. That memory is constantly responding to the new; the response of that memory we call thinking, and that thinking meets the new. So, how can there be the new? Only when there is no residue of memory can there be newness, and there is residue when experience is not finished, concluded, ended, that is, when the understanding of experience is incomplete. When experience is complete, there is no residue - that is the beauty of life. Love is not residue, love is not experience, it is a state of being. Love is eternally new. So, our problem is: Can one meet the new constantly, even at home? Surely, one can. To do that, one must bring about a revolution in thought, in feeling; and you can be free only when every incident is thought out from moment to moment, when every response is fully understood, not merely casually looked at and thrown aside. There is freedom from accumulating memory only when every thought, every feeling is completed, thought out to the end. That is, when each thought and each feeling is thought out, concluded, there is an ending; and there is a space between that ending and the next thought. In that space of silence, there is renewal, the new creativeness takes place. Now, this is not theoretical, this is not impractical. If you will try to think out every thought and every feeling, you will discover that it is extraordinarily practical in your daily life; for then you are new, and what is new is eternal, enduring. To be new is creative, and to be creative is to be happy; and a happy man is not concerned whether he is rich or poor, he does not care to what caste he belongs, or to what country. He has no leaders, no gods, no temples, and therefore no quarrels, no enmity. Surely, that is the most practical way of solving our difficulties in this present world chaos. It is because we are not creative, in the sense in which I am using that word, that we are so antisocial at all the different levels of our consciousness, To be very practical and effective in our social relationship, in our relationship with everything, one must be happy; and there cannot be happiness if there is no ending, there cannot be happiness if there is a becoming. In ending there is renewal, rebirth, a newness, a freshness, a joy. But the new is absorbed into the old, and the old destroys the new, as long as there is background, as long as the mind, the thinker, is conditioned by his thought. To be free from the background, from the conditioning influences, from memory, there must be freedom from continuity; and, there is continuity as long as thought and feeling are not ended completely. Sir, you complete a thought when you pursue the thought to its end, and thereby bring an end to every thought, to every feeling. Surely, love is not habit, memory; love is always new. There can be a meeting of the new only when the mind is fresh; and the mind is not fresh as long as there is the residue of memory. Memory is factual, as well as psychological. I am not talking of factual memory, but of psychological memory. As long as experience is not completely understood, there is residue, which is the old, which is of yesterday, the thing that is past; and the past is always absorbing the new and therefore destroying the new. It is only when the mind is free from the old that it meets everything anew, and in that there is joy. Question: You never mention God, Has he no place in your teachings? Krishnamurti: You talk a great deal about God, don't you? Your books are full of it. You build churches, temples, you make sacrifices, you do rituals, perform ceremonies, and you are full of ideas about God, are you not? You repeat the word, but your acts are not godly, are they? Though you worship what you call God, your ways, your thoughts, your existence, are not godly, are they? Though you repeat the word `God', you exploit others, do you not? You have your gods - Hindu, Mussulman, Christian, and all the rest of it. You build temples; and the richer you get, the more temples you build. (Laughter.) Don't laugh, Sir, you would do the same yourself - only you are still trying to become rich, that is all. So, you are very familiar with God, at least with the word; but the word is not God, the word is not the thing. So, let us be very clear on that point: The word is not God. You may use the word `God' or some other word, but God is not the word which you use. Because you use it, it does not mean that you know God; you merely know the word. I don't use that word for the very simple reason that you know it. What you know is not the real. And besides, to find reality, all verbal mutterings of the mind must cease, must they not? You have images of God, but the image is not God, surely. How can you know God? Obviously, not through an image, not through a temple. To receive God, the unknown, the mind must be the unknown. If you pursue God, then you already know God, you know the end; you know what you are pursuing, don't you? If you seek God, you must know what God is; otherwise, you wouldn't seek him, would you? You seek him either according to your books, or according to your feelings; and your feelings are merely the response of memory. Therefore, that which you seek is already created, either through memory or through hearsay, and that which is created is not the eternal - it is the product of the mind Sirs if there were no books, if there were no gurus, no formulas to be repeated you would only know sorrow and happiness, wouldn't you? - constant sorrow and misery, and rare moments of happiness; and then you would want to know why you suffer. You couldn't escape to God - but you would probably escape in other ways, and soon invent gods as an escape. But, if you really want to understand the whole process of suffering, as a new man; a fresh man, enquiring and not escaping, then you will free yourself from sorrow, then you will find out what reality is, what God is. But a man in sorrow cannot find God or reality; reality can be found only when sorrow ceases, when there is happiness, not as a contrast, not as an opposite, but that state of being in which there are no opposites. So, the unknown, that which is not created by the mind, cannot be formulated by the mind. That which is unknown cannot be thought about. The moment you think about the unknown, it is already the known. Surely you cannot think about the unknown, can you? You can think only about the known. Thought moves from the known to the known; and what is known is not reality, is it? So, when you think and meditate, when you sit down and think about God, you only think about what is known, and what is known is in time; it is caught in the net of time, and is therefore not the real. Reality can come into being only when the mind is free from the net of time. When the mind ceases to create, there is creation. That is, the mind must be absolutely still, but not with an induced, a hypnotized stillness, which is merely a result. Trying to become still in order to experience reality is another form of escape. There is silence only when all problems have ceased; as the pool is quiet when the breeze stops, so the mind is naturally quiet when the agitator, the thinker, ceases. To put an end to the thinker, all the thoughts which he manufactures must be thought out. It is no good erecting a barrier, a resistance, against thought; because, thoughts must be felt out, the mind is still, reality, the indescribable, comes into being. You cannot invite it. To invite it, you must know it, and what is known is not the real. So, the mind must be simple, unburdened by belief, by ideation; and when there is stillness, when there is no desire, no longing, when the mind is absolutely quiet with a stillness that is not induced, then reality comes. And that truth, that reality, is the only transforming agent; it is the only factor that brings a fundamental, radical revolution in existence, in our daily life. And to find that reality is not to seek it, but to understand the factors that agitate the mind, that disturb the mind itself. Then the mind is simple, quiet, still. In that stillness the unknown, the unknowable, comes into being; and when that happens, there is a blessing. February 8, 1928 BOMBAY 5TH PUBLIC TALK 15TH FEBRUARY, 1948 Each Sunday I have been trying to take up a different subject and approach the problem of existence from a different point of view. I am going to try this evening to approach it from the point of view of effort, this constant battle that we make to overcome something, to succeed, to achieve, and see if we can have a brief period to comprehend the full significance of this struggle. There is so much sorrow and so little happiness in our lives. When there is happiness, the problems of power, position, and achievement, come to an end. When there is happiness, the struggle to become ceases, and the divisions between man and man are broken down. We must often have noticed, in those rare moments when we are perfectly happy, quiet, that all conflicts cease to exist. So, happiness comes only with the highest form of intelligence. Intelligence is the understanding of sor- row. We know sorrow, it is always with us, a constant companion; it seems to be without end - sorrow in different forms, at different levels, physical and psychological. We know certain remedies to overcome physical pain; but psychologically it is much more difficult. The psychological problem is much more complex, demanding greater attention and greater study, deeper penetration and wider experience; but sorrow, wherever it be, at whatever level, is still painful. So, the problem is: Does sorrow, suffering, come to an end through effort, through a thought process? You understand, I am not for the moment talking about the physiological suffering, the painful disease, but about the psychological suffering. Does that suffering come to an end through effort, through what we call the thought process? Physical pain can be overcome by effort, by searching out the causes of disease. But psychological suffering, pain, anxiety, frustration, the innumerable aches - can they be overcome by effort, by thought. So we have first to enquire what is suffering, what is effort, and what is thought. It is a very large problem to be solved in a very short time; but if you will follow it attentively, I think it is possible to understand the significance of it; and perhaps in understanding it directly we shall be able to solve it, or rather catch a momentary glimpse of that happiness which destroys this ache, this burning loneliness and pain. So, what is suffering? Is it not the desire to become, with its varying frustrations? Is not sorrow the outcome of the desire to be other than what one is? Do not actions based on that desire lead to disintegration, to conflict, to the neverending wave of confusion? So, sorrow, suffering, is the desire to become, the desire to be, either positively or negatively. I think we can all agree on that fundamentally. Sorrow comes into being when there is the desire to become. In that becoming, there is action, whether social action or individual action; and that action is constantly expanding itself in disintegration, in futility, in frustration, which we see about us constantly. Now, can this desire to become, which is the cause of sorrow, come to an end through effort? That is what we try to do, is it not? When we are frustrated, when there is pain, when there is sorrow, we try to overcome it, we try to battle against it. This positive or defensive attack is called effort, is it not? That is, effort exists or comes into being when there is the anxiety to change what one is. I am this, and I want to become that. This change, this movement of changing this into that, is called effort. Now, what is change, what is changing - not the dictionary meaning, but the inner significance of it? Surely, change is a modified continuity, I am this, and I want to become that; that is, I want to become the opposite of what I am. But the opposite is the continuity of what I am in a different form. So, the opposite, in which there is always effort, is the modified continuity of its own opposite. Non-greed is the modified continuity of greed; it is still greed, only under a different name, because in it becoming is implied, and this becoming, in which effort is involved, is the cause of sorrow. We see that effort implies continuity in a modified form. And can thought, can the thought process, bring sorrow to an end? Probably this is all rather abstract and difficult, but we will simplify it as I begin to answer questions about it. But I think we will have to lay the abstract before us, and then build structurally, concretely; and we will do that when we understand the principle of this problem of suffering - whether suffering can be overcome through effort which creates the opposite, and whether suffering, which is the desire to become something here or hereafter, can be brought to an end by thought. Now, what is thinking? When you say,`I am thinking', what does it mean? You are trying to solve the problem of sorrow through thought; and can thought put an end to pain, to psychological anxiety, to fear, and so on? So, what is thinking? Surely, thinking is the response of memory; if you had no memory, you would not be capable of thinking. Memory is the residue of experience - experience which is not completely, fully understood. When you understand something completely, fully, it leaves no mark. Only the undigested, incomplete experience leaves a mark, which we call memory. So, thinking is the response of memory; and when you try to solve the problem of suffering through thought, thought being the response of memory, surely there is no solution; because memory is the continuity of effort. This is not a cleverly worked out puzzle; but if you think about it, you will see that three things are involved in your process of dealing with pain: effort, thought, and memory. Don't memorize it - watch it operating in your daily life, and you will see. You don't have to read philosophical books; but, if you will watch yourself when there is anxiety, when there is pain, you will see these three things at work. And can these things overcome, dissolve, the pain, the sorrow? Obviously they cannot, because the thought process is merely the outcome of incomplete understanding, and change is merely modified continuity, which creates the opposite. So, our problem is to find out what can put an end to sorrow, what can bring about that state of happiness, which is obviously not the result of effort. I don't know if you have ever tried to be happy. Surely, you have never succeeded when you tried to be happy. Happiness comes into being spontaneously, uninvited. So, it cannot be a result of effort and if we seek happiness by getting rid of sorrow, then we will not understand, put an end to sorrow without the thought process, without effort? Because effort implies, as pointed out, the creating of duality, of the opposites; and what is opposite is still within the field of its own opposite. So, what puts an end to sorrow? When you understand the process of thought, the process of effort, the process of memory, when you really understand, as I have explained, when you are aware of these three processes, then what happens? When you are aware of something, what is your exact experience? Surely, when you are aware of something, there is no condemnatory attitude, is there? There is no justifying or identifying. You are simply aware. I am aware of that green, of those birds flying. In that awareness, there is no condemnation, there is no justification. Now, if you are aware of sorrow without the three processes at work trying to overcome it, if you are aware without condemnation then you will see there comes alert passivity, a passive awareness without any demand. You are very alert; there is no part of your being which is asleep, because you have explored, as we said, the whole process of memory, thought, effort, and therefore you are fully aware; and in that awareness there is a perceptivity, a quiet, a stillness, an observation. Without a prejudice, without a demand; and then you will find that sorrow comes to an end. But such awareness demands an extraordinarily persistent watchfulness to see how the mind works when there is suffering, to follow the swift movement of every thought and thereby comprehend the whole process of effort, of thought and of memory. Question: You say love is chaste. Do you mean it is celibate? Krishnamurti: Now, we are going to explore this problem and see the implications in it. So, please don't be on the offensive or the defensive; because, to understand you must explore, and exploration ceases when you are biased, when you are tethered to a tradition or to a belief. It is like an animal tied to a stake: it cannot wander far, and you must wander far to discover what is truth. You must go very deeply to find the truth of any problem; but, if you are anchored in a haven of belief, of tradition, or of prejudice, then you will never find the truth of any problem. So, please, for this evening at least, let us explore together without being anchored -which is quite an arduous task in itself. Because, when you are prejudiced, surely the problem is distorted, and therefore the answer is also distorted; and to find the answer, one must study the problem without distortion, either defensive or offensive, either negative or positive. So, we are going to examine the problem together and see where it leads us. In this question is involved the whole complex issue of sex. Religious teachers, traditional systems, have forbidden sexual intercourse, saying that it prevents man from realizing the highest, that you must be celibate in order to find God, truth, or whatever it be. Now, traditionally, that is what is generally accepted. But, if we want to find the truth of a problem, tradition and authority have no meaning. On the contrary, they become a hindrance - which does not mean that man must become licentious. Truth is not found in the opposite, for the opposite is the continuity of its own opposite. The antithesis is the continuation of the thesis in a different form. So, to find the truth of this matter, we must approach it very carefully, without the bias of tradition, without the fear of authority, and without the sneaking pleasure of indulgence. We must look at it and see its full significance. First of all, why has sex become a problem to most of us? Why is it that practically everywhere in the world at the present time-it is one of the most extraordinary facts - men and women are caught in this sensate pleasure? Why is it that it has become such an intense, burning problem? If we do not understand that, we shall either condemn it or indulge in it. I am not saying it is right or wrong - that would be a stupid way of regarding the problem. Must you be a celibate because the books say so? Must you lead a riotous life because other books say so? To think out the problem, we must think of it anew; and to think of it anew, we must leave the well-charted lines of the old. So, the problem is: Why is it that sex has become such a burning issue? First, obviously, because it is being stimulated by every possible means in modern society; every newspaper, every magazine, the cinemas and pictures, stimulate eroticism.The tradesman employs a woman to attract your attention, to make you buy a pair of shoes, or God knows what. So, through stimulation we are being bombarded with sex all the time. That is one fact. And society, civilization at the present time, is essentially the outcome of sensate value. Things, mundane things, have become extraordinarily important in our lives; position, wealth, name, have become of vital significance, because they are means to power, means to so-called freedom. Sensory values have become predominantly significant in our lives, and that is also one of the reasons for this overwhelming problem of sex. In thought, in feeling, you have ceased to be creative; you are just imitative machines, aren't you? Your religion is merely habit, following authority, tradition and fear, copying the book, following the rule, the example, the ideal. It has become a routine. Religion is merely mumbling words, going to the temple, or practicing a discipline - -which is all repetitive, copying, imitative, habit forming. And what happens to your mind and to your heart when you are merely imitative? Naturally, they wither, do they not? The mind, which must be swift, capable of deep penetration, deep understanding, has been made into a mere machine, a record-player which imitates, copies, follows. It has ceased to be a mind, and your religion has become a matter of belief. Therefore, emotionally, inwardly, there is no creation, there is no creative response - only dullness, emptiness. The same is true of thought. What is your thinking, what is your existence? A hollow, empty routine, isn't it? - earning money, playing cards, going to cinemas, reading a few cheap books or very, very cultured ones. Again, what is that? Is it not also just a repetitive machine functioning without depth, without thought, without compassion, without vulnerability? How can such a mind be creative? So, what happens to your life? You are uncreative, unthoughtful, unmindful, imitating, copying; so naturally the only pleasure left to you is sex, which becomes your escape; therefore, being your only release, you are caught in it, and so there is the eternal question of how to get out. And your ideals, your disciplines, will not get you out. You may suppress it, you may hold it in, but that is not living creatively, happily, purely, nobly - it is living in constant fear. Sex is one of the ways of self-forgetfulness; in sex you momentarily forget yourself; and because you live so superficially, so imitatively, sex is the only thing left to you, so it becomes a problem. And naturally, when sex is the only thing left, there is no life. We are not trying to solve the problem, we are trying to understand it; and in understanding it fully, we shall find the answer. To the many serious problems of life, there are no categorical answers, yes or no; but, in understanding the problem itself, we shall find the answer. The answer is that the problem will exist as long as there is no creativeness, as long as you are not free from imitation, from habit, as long as the mind is caught in mere repetition, in the mere earning of money - which is a ruthless existence. In merely repeating, chanting, and all the rest of it there can be no creativeness. There is creativeness only through the release of creative thinking, creative being, creative existence, which means bringing about a radical revolution in our living - not a verbal revolution, but an inward revolution, a complete transformation of our lives. Then only will this problem have a different meaning; then life itself will have a different significance. Those who are trying to be celibate as a means of achieving reality, God - they are unchaste, they are ignoble, because their hearts are dry. Surely, without love, there cannot be purity, and a pure heart alone can find reality - not a disciplined heart, not a suppressed heart, not a distorted heart, but a heart that knows what it is to love. But you cannot love if you are caught in a habit, either religious or physical, psychological or sensate. So, a man who is trying to be a celibate can never understand reality; for to him celibacy is merely the imitation of an example, an ideal; and the imitation of an ideal is merely copying, therefore it is uncreative. But a man who knows how to love, how to be kind, how to be generous, how to give himself over to something completely without thought of self, that man knows love; and such love is chaste. Where there is such love the problem ceases to be. Question: You say the present crisis is without precedent. In what way is it exceptional? Krishnamurti: I do all the thinking, and you do all the listening -it is too bad. Sir, there is a danger in all these meetings that you merely become the audience and I become the talker. That is what has happened in the world. You all go to football and cricket games, or to the cinema. Others are acting, others are playing, but never you. You have become uncreative - that is why you have so many destructive problems gnawing at your heart. So, don't please, if I may suggest, become the audience here - that would be too bad, and would have no meaning. It is so easy to listen to somebody else talking, so easy to read books which somebody else has written; but, if there were no books, if there were no preachers, you would have to think out your own problems, and then you would be extremely creative, would you not? That is what we are trying to do here. Fortunately, I have not read books, religious scriptures; but you have, and unfortunately, your minds are stuffed with other people's ideas - and that is your difficulty. Your difficulty is that you are not thinking, or you are thinking through other people's formulas, ideas, sayings, quotations. Therefore, you are really not thinking at all. These talks will be of no significance whatever if you merely become the observers, the listeners; because, you will find that I am not giving any answer to any problem. That would be too easy, that would be too stupid - to say yes or no to any issue. But, if we think out the problem together, easily, sanely, without being anchored to any prejudice, then we shall find the significance of the problem; then there will be creative happiness in the search. Surely, Sir, that search itself is devotion - not to an image, to an idea, but there is devotion in the very search of the problem and its meaning. There is joy, there is creative ecstasy, in finding out what is true; but if we merely listen, words have very little meaning. The word is not the thing; to find the thing, you must go beyond the word. Surely, the present crisis is exceptional, is it not? Not because I say so - I will say many things, but it will not be true if you merely repeat it. Propaganda is a lie, repetition is a lie. Obviously, the present crisis throughout the world is exceptional, without precedent. There have been crises of varying types at different periods throughout history, social, national, political. Crises come and go; economic recessions, depressions come, get modified, and continue in a different form. We know that, we are familiar with that process. But surely, the present crisis is different, is it not? It is different first because we are dealing, not with money, not with tangible things, but with ideas. The crisis is exceptional because it is in the field of ideation. We are quarrelling with ideas, we are justifying murder; in this country, as everywhere else in the world, we are justifying murder as a means to a righteous end, which in itself is unprecedented. Before, evil was recognized to be evil, murder was recognized to be murder; but now, murder is a means to achieve a noble result. Murder, whether of one person or of a group of people, is justified, because the murderer, or the group that the murderer represents, justifies it as a means of achieving a result which will be beneficial to man. That is, we sacrifice the present for the future - and it does not matter what means we employ as long as our declared purpose is to produce a result which will be beneficial to man. Therefore, the implication is that a wrong means will produce a right end, and you justify the wrong means through ideation. In the various crises that have taken place before the issue has been the exploitation of things or of man; but it is now the exploitation of ideas, which is much more pernicious, much more dangerous, because the exploitation of ideas is so devastating, so destructive. We have learned now the power of propaganda, and that is one of the greatest calamities that can happen: to use ideas as a means to transform man. Surely that is what is happening in the world today. Man is not important -systems ideas, have become important. Man no longer has any significance. We can destroy millions of men as long as we produce a result, and the result is justified by ideas. We have a magnificent structure of ideas to justify evil; and, surely, that is unprecedented. Evil is evil, it cannot bring about good. War is not a means to peace. War may bring about secondary benefits, like more efficient airplanes, but it will not bring peace to man. War is intellectually justified as a means of bringing peace; and when the intellect has the upper hand in human life, it brings about an unprecedented crisis. There are other causes also which indicate an unprecedented crisis. One of them is the extraordinary importance man is giving to sensate values, to property, to name, to caste and country, to the particular label you wear. You are either a Mohammedan or a Hindu, a Christian or a communist. Name and property, caste and country, have become predominantly important, which means that man is caught in sensate value, the value of things, whether made by the mind or by the hand. Things made by the hand or by the mind have become so important that we are killing, destroying, butchering, liquidating each other because of them. We are nearing the edge of a precipice; every action is leading us there, every political, every economic action is bringing us inevitably to the precipice, dragging us into this chaotic, confusing abyss. So, the crisis is unprecedented, and it demands unprecedented action. To leave, to step out of that crisis, needs a timeless action, an action which is not based on idea, on system; because any action which is based on a system, on an idea, will inevitably lead to frustration. Such action merely brings us back to the abyss by a different route. So, as the crisis is unprecedented, there must also be unprecedented action, which means that the regeneration of the individual must be instantaneous, not a process of time. It must take place now, not tomorrow; for tomorrow is of transforming myself tomorrow, I invite confusion, I am still within the field of destruction. And is it possible to change now? Is it possible to completely transform oneself in the immediate, in the now? I say it is. To do that, to transform oneself immediately, now, demands a certain close following of all that I am saying; because understanding is always in the present, not in the future. I have already talked a little about this, and we will discuss it as we go along during the many Sundays to come. The point is that, as the crisis is of an exceptional character, to meet it there must be revolution in thinking; and this revolution cannot take place through another, through any book, through any organization. It must come through us, through each one of us. Only then can we create a new society, a new structure away from this horror, away from these extraordinarily destructive forces that are being accumulated, piled up; and that transformation comes into being only when you as an individual begin to be aware of yourself in every thought, action, and feeling. Question: Are there no perfect gurus who have nothing for the greedy seeker of eternal security, but who guide visibly or invisibly a loving heart? Krishnamurti: Now, this question, whether one needs a guru, is put over and over again in different forms. Sirs, the vast majority of you have gurus - that is one of the most extraordinary things here. So, for this evening at least, put them aside and let us investigate the problem. The questioner asks: `Does a loving heart need a guide?' Do you understand? Surely, a loving heart needs no guide, for love itself is the real, the eternal. A loving heart is generous, kind, unreserved, withholding nothing, and such a heart knows the real; it knows that which is without a beginning and without an end. But most of us have no such heart. Our hearts are dry, empty, making a lot of noise. Our hearts are filled with the things of the mind. And as our hearts are empty, we go to another to fill them. We go to another seeking that eternal security which we call God; we go to another to find that permanent gratification which we call reality. Because our own hearts are dry, we are seeking a guru who will fill them. Can anyone, whether visible or invisible, fill your heart? Your gurus give you disciplines, practices; they don't tell you how to think, but rather what to think. And what happens? You practise, you meditate, you discipline, you conform yourself, and yet your heart remains dull, empty and unloving; you discipline yourself and tyrannize your family. Do you think that by meditating, disciplining yourself, you will know love? Sir, without love, you cannot find reality, can you? Without being tender, gentle, considerate, how can you know the real? And can anyone teach you how to love? Surely, love is not a technique. Through technique, you cannot know it, can you? You will know every other thing, but not love, So, you can never know reality through any discipline, through any practice, through any conformity; because, conformity, discipline, practice, is repetition, which dulls the mind, freezes the heart - and that is what you want. You want to make your mind dull, because your mind is restless, wandering, active, incessantly striving; and not understanding this restless mind, you want to smother it, you want to discipline it according to your pattern, you want to force it according to a set of rules and regulations, and thereby you strangulate the mind, make the mind utterly dull. That is what is happening, is it not? Look at your mind: How dull it is, how insensitive, because you have pursued the gurus so long. It has become a habit, a routine, to go from one guru to another. Each guru tells you to do something, and you do it till you find it unsatisfactory, and then you go over to somebody else, thereby exhausting your mind by this constant use; for that which is constantly used is worn out. What you are really seeking in a guru is not understanding, but gratification, permanent security, which you call the eternal, God, the real, truth, or what you will. And since you seek gratification, you will find a guru who will gratify you; but surely, that is not understanding, it does not bring happiness, it does not bring love. On the contrary, it destroys love. Love is something new, eternal from moment to moment. It is never the same, never as it was before; and without its perfume, without its beauty and its goodness, to search through a guru for that which you must find out for yourself is utterly useless. So, our problem is not whether a visible or invisible guru will help us, but how to bring about that state of being in which we know what love is. For love is virtue, and virtue is not a practice; but virtue brings freedom. And it is only when there is freedom that the eternal can come into being. So, our question is, how is it possible for a dull mind, an empty heart, to come to love, to be sensitive, to know the beauty, the richness of love? First, you must be aware that your mind is dull, that your thought process has no significance. You must be aware that your heart is empty without finding excuses for it, without justifying or condemning it. Just be aware, try it, Sirs. Be aware and see if your mind is not dull, if your heart is not empty; though you are married, have children and possessions, is it not empty? Aren't you empty? Your mind is dull, though you know all the religious books; though your mind is an encyclopedia, full of information, it is dull, weary, exhausted. Just be aware, be passively aware without condemning without justifying; be open to dis- cover how dull, how weary your mind is and also that your heart is empty, lonely and aching. I am not mesmerizing you - just be aware of all this and you will see, if you are passively aware, that there comes a transformation, an extraordinarily quick response; and in that response, you will know what it is to love. In that response, there is stillness, there is quiet; and in that quiet you will find the indescribable, the unutterable. February 15, 1958 BOMBAY 6TH PUBLIC TALK 22ND FEBRUARY, 1948 I shall try today to clarify the extraordinarily complex problem of our existence, very simply and very directly, if that is possible. You are fully aware, I think, that our existence is very complex and extraordinarily vast and subtle; and like all complex problems, I think we ought to approach it very simply. Though I may use ordinary words with a difficult meaning, or put it in a difficult way, you will find, if you care to think about it, that the approach is very simple, like that to all great scientific problems. The problem itself is complex, but it has to be approached very simply; and that is what I hope we will do this evening. Our existence is complex, and we try to solve a particular problem unrelated to other problems. That is, the problem of existence is not at one level only, but at different levels, and these problems at different levels are interrelated. The physiological problem is related to the psychological and spiritual problem, but we try to solve the problem of food, clothing and shelter on its own level, apart from the psychological level. We try to solve the economic problem as though it were completely unrelated to the psychological problem, and this effort to solve each of our human problems on its own level leads to catastrophic results. That is, if we try to solve the economic problem on its own level, not relating it to the psychological problem, it leads us to confusion and further catastrophes. So, departmental thinking can in no way solve the problem of existence. When the economists, the socialists, the communists, the psychologists, try to solve our difficult problems, each purely on its own level, which means departmental thinking, then there is no way out of the mess. So, we have to think of our existence as a whole, as a total process, and not as many unrelated processes at different levels. The different levels are interrelated, and therefore they must be thought of as a total process, not as separate, independent process. Our life, our daily existence, is a series of contradictions. We talk of peace, and try to live at peace, but we are preparing for war; we talk of freedom, but regimentation is taking place all the time. There is poverty and riches, evil and good, violence and nonviolence. Our whole life is a series of contradictions. We want to be happy, and we do everything to bring about unhappiness; we want peace in the world, and yet everything we think, feel and do bring about war. So, we live in a series of contradictions, which I think is fairly obvious and with which we are quite familiar. Now, to choose one of the contradictions is to avoid direct action, because choice at all times is a process of the avoidance of action. That is, if I choose one of the contradictions, peace, and do not understand its opposite, conflict, then such choice leads to inaction. It is not choice, but right thinking, that brings about integration. Where there is right thinking, contradictions are not possible; when we know how to think rightly, contradiction will cease. So, we have to find out what is right thinking, and not be caught in choice between good and evil, between war and peace, between riches and poverty, between freedom and regimentation. When right thinking comes into being, there is no contradiction. Contradiction is the very nature of the self, the seat of desire. So, to understand desire is the beginning of self-knowledge, and without self-knowledge, there is no right thinking. If I don't know myself, the total process of myself, not only at the economic level of everyday existence, but at the different psychological levels, then I live in a state of contradiction; and to choose one of the opposites does not bring about integration. We see contradiction about us and in our lives, there is a constant battle of choice between right and wrong; and we choose one of the opposites, yet that does not bring about peace, integration. So, to choose is to avoid action, and only right thinking can bring about integration. Our problem, then, is how to think rightly. Now, right thinking and right thought are two different states, are they not? Right thinking has to be discovered, whereas right thought is merely conformity to a pattern. Right thinking is a process, whereas right thought is static. Right thinking is constant movement, constant discovery; that is, only through constant awareness in action, which is relationship, can there be right thinking. But right thought is always static; you can pick up right thought. You can regiment your mind, force your mind, discipline it to think along right lines, but that is not right thinking. Right thinking can come into being only through self-knowledge, and self-knowledge is never static. I am using the word self - knowledge in its full meaning -knowledge of the self, not only the higher but the lower self. To me, the self, the desire, is both the high and the low. We have divided the self for convenience, as a means of escape; but actually, to understand the self, one must understand the whole process of thinking, which is consciousness. So, right thinking alone can bring about integration and therefore freedom from the conflict of the opposites, freedom from self-contradiction; and to understand self-contradiction, the battle that is going on within each one of us and which is expressed outwardly in the world, there must be an awareness of the process of our own thinking, awareness of every thought and every feeling - not merely the acceptance of pleasurable thoughts and the avoidance of ugly ones, but awareness of all thoughts and all feelings. And, to understand, there must be no condemnation; because the moment you condemn a thing, you cease to understand it. So, self-knowledge is the beginning of wisdom, from which comes right thinking; and without right thinking there can be no right action, and therefore no creation of a new social structure. So, our problem is, is it not?, that, living in a state of contradiction, we are caught in a contradictory society which is the result of our own projection. I want, and I don't want; I want to live at peace, and at the same time I see that I am antisocial. We live in a state of constant contradiction, and therefore there is disintegration; and any action that springs from that state of contradiction is bound to lead to further conflict and disintegration. To bring about integration, there must be right thinking; right thinking can come into being only through self-knowledge; and self-knowledge is a process of constant discovery of the full significance of each thought and each feeling. That is, there must be constant awareness, without condemnation or justification, of every thought, of every movement, of every feeling - awareness, not only of the superficial consciousness, but also of the motives, the intimations, the significance of all our hidden thoughts, pursuits and desires. As you are more and more aware you will find that there comes a deeper and deeper understanding. From this understanding comes right thinking, and only right thinking can bring about the right solution to the many problems that confront each one of us. Question: Is not the longing expressed in prayer a way to God? Krishnamurti: First of all we are going to examine the problems contained in this question. In it are implied prayer, concentration and meditation. Now, what do we mean by prayer? First of all, in prayer there is petition, supplication to what you call God, reality. You, as an individual, are demanding, petitioning, begging, seeking guidance from something which you call God; therefore your approach is one of seeking a reward, seeking a gratification. You are in trouble, national or individual, and you pray for guidance; or you are confused, and you beg for clarity, you look for help to what you call God. In this is implied that God, whatever God may be - we won't discuss that for the moment - , is going to clear up the confusion which you and I have created. Because, after all, it is we who have brought about the confusion, the misery, the chaos, the appalling tyranny, the lack of love; and we want what we call God to clear it up. In other words, we want our confusion, our misery, our sorrow, our conflict, to be cleared away by somebody else, we petition another to bring us light and happiness. Now, when you pray, when you beg, petition for something, it generally comes into being. When you ask, you receive; but what you receive will not create order, because what you receive does not bring clarity, understanding. It only satisfies, gives gratification, but does not bring about understanding; because, when you demand, you receive that which you yourself project. How can reality, God, answer your particular demand? Can the immeasurable, the unutterable, be concerned with our petty little worries, miseries, confusions, which we ourselves have created? Therefore, what is it that answers? Obviously, the immeasurable cannot answer the measured, the petty, the small. But what is it that answers? At that moment, when we pray, we are fairly silent, in a state of receptivity; and then our own subconscious brings a momentary clarity. That is, you want something, you are longing for it, and in that moment of longing, of obsequious begging, you are fairly receptive; your conscious, active mind is comparatively still, so the unconscious projects itself into that and you have an answer. But it is surely not an answer from reality, from the immeasurable - it is your own unconscious responding. So, don't let us be confused and think that when your prayer is answered you are in relationship with reality. Reality must come to you; you cannot go to it. Then, in this problem of prayer, there is another factor involved: the response of that which we call the inner voice. I said, when the mind is supplicating, petitioning, it is comparatively still; and when you hear the inner voice, it is your own voice projecting itself into that comparatively still mind. Again, how can it be the voice of reality? A mind that is confused, ignorant, craving, demanding, petitioning, how can it understand reality? The mind can receive reality only when it is absolutely still, not demanding, not craving, not longing, not asking, whether for yourself, for the nation, or for another. When the mind is absolutely still, when desire ceases, then only reality comes into being. But a person who is demanding, petitioning, supplicating, longing for direction, such a person will find what he seeks, but it will not be the truth. What he receives will be the response of the unconscious layers of his own mind, which project themselves into the conscious; and that still, small voice which directs him is not the real, but only the response of the unconscious. Then, in this problem of prayer, there is also the question of concentration. With most of us, concentration is a process of exclusion. Concentration is brought about through effort, compulsion, direction, imitation, and so concentration is a process of exclusion. I am interested in so-called meditation, but my thoughts are distracted. So, I fix my mind on a picture, an image, or an idea, and exclude all other thoughts; and this process of concentration, which is exclusion, is considered to be a means of meditating. That is what you do, is it not? When you sit down to meditate, you fix your mind on a word, on an image, or on a picture; but the mind wanders all over the place. There is the constant interruption of other ideas, other thoughts, other emotions, and you try to push them away, you spend your time battling with your thoughts. This process you call meditation. That is, you are trying to concentrate on something in which you are not interested, and your thoughts keep on multiplying, increasing, interrupting. So, you spend your energy in exclusion, in warding off, pushing away; and if you can concentrate on your chosen thought, on a particular object, you think you have at last succeeded in meditation. Surely, that is not meditation, is it? Meditation is not an exclusive process - exclusive in the sense of warding off, building resistance against encroaching ideas. So, prayer is not meditation, and concentration as exclusion is not meditation. So, what is meditation? Concentration is not meditation, because where there is interest it is comparatively easy to concentrate on something. A general who is planning war, butchery, is very concentrated. A business man making money is very concentrated - he may even be ruthless, putting aside every other feeling and concentrating completely on what he wants, a man who is interested in anything is naturally, spontaneously concentrated, But, surely, such concentration is not meditation, it is merely exclusion. So, what is meditation? Obviously, it is not fixing your mind on an object, on a word, on an idea, on a phrase, an image, or a speculative hope. Surely, that is merely concentration on what you want. As a business man concentrates on making money, so you concentrate on what you want and exclude, push aside, battle with the encroaching waves of thought. Surely, that is not meditation, is it? So, what is meditation? Surely, meditation is understanding -meditation of the heart is understanding. How can there be understanding if there is exclusion? How can there be understanding when there is petition, supplication? In understanding there is peace, there is freedom; that which you understand, from that you are liberated. But, merely to concentrate, or to pray, does not bring understanding. So, understanding is the very basis, the fundamental process of meditation. You don't have to accept my word for it; but if you examine prayer and concentration very carefully, deeply, you will find that neither of them leads to understanding. They merely lead to obstinacy, to a fixation, to illusion. Whereas, meditation, in which there is understanding, brings about freedom, clarity and integration. So, then, what do we mean by understanding? Understanding means giving right significance, right valuation, to all things. To be ignorant is to give wrong values; the very nature of stupidity is the lack of comprehension of right values. So, understanding comes into being when there are right values, when right values are established. And how is one to establish right values - the right value of property, the right value of relationship, the right value of ideas? For the right values to come into being, you must understand the thinker, must you not? If I don't understand the thinker, which is myself, what I choose has no meaning, that is, if I don't know myself, then my action, my thought, have no foundation whatsoever. So, self-knowledge is the beginning of meditation - not the knowledge that you pick up from my books, from authorities, from gurus, but the knowledge that comes into being through self-inquiry, which is self-awareness. Meditation is the beginning of self-knowledge, and without self-knowledge there is no meditation. Because, if I don't understand the ways of my thoughts, of my feelings, if I don't understand my motives, my desires, my demands, my pursuit of patterns of action, which are ideas - I do not know myself, there is no foundation for thinking; and the thinker who merely asks, prays, or excludes, without understanding himself, must inevitably end in confusion, in illusion. So, the beginning of meditation is self-knowledge, which means being aware of every movement of thought and feeling, knowing all the layers of my consciousness - not only the superficial layers, but the hidden, the deeply concealed activities. But, to know the deeply concealed activities, the hidden motives, responses, thoughts and feelings, there must be tranquillity in the conscious mind; that is, the conscious mind must be still in order to receive the projection of the unconscious. The superficial, conscious mind is occupied with its daily activities, with earning a livelihood, deceiving others, exploiting others, running away from problems -all the daily activities of our existence. That superficial mind must understand the right significance of its own activities and thereby bring tranquillity to itself. It cannot bring about tranquillity, stillness, by mere regimentation, by compulsion, by discipline. It can bring about tranquillity, peace, stillness, only by understanding its own activities, by observing them, by being aware of them, by seeing its own ruthlessness, how it talks to the servant, to the wife, to the daughter, to the mother, and so on. When the superficial, conscious mind is thus fully aware of all its activities, through that understanding it becomes spontaneous, quiet, not drugged by compulsion or regimented by desire; and then it is in a position to receive the intimations, the hints of the unconscious, of the many, many hidden layers of the mind - the racial instincts, the buried memories, the concealed pursuits, the deep wounds that are still unhealed. It is only when all these have projected themselves and are understood, when the whole consciousness is unburdened, unfettered by any wound, by any memory whatsoever, that it is in a position to receive the eternal. So, meditation is self-knowledge, and without self-knowledge there is no meditation. If you are not aware of all your responses all the time, if you are not fully conscious, fully cognizant of your daily activities, merely to lock yourself in a room and sit down in front of a picture of your guru, of your Master, to do puja, to meditate, is an escape. Because, without self-knowledge there is no right thinking, and without right thinking, what you do has no meaning, however noble your intentions are. So, prayer has no significance without self-knowledge; but when there is self-knowledge, there is right thinking, and hence right action. When there is right action, there is no confusion, and therefore there is no supplication to someone else to lead you out of it. A man who is fully aware, is meditating; he does not pray, because he does not want anything. Through prayer, through regimentation, through repetition, through japam and all the rest of it, you can bring about a certain stillness; but that is mere dullness, reducing the mind and the heart to a state of weariness. It is drugging the mind; and exclusion, which you call concentration, does not lead to reality, no exclusion ever can. What brings about understanding is self-knowledge, and it is not very difficult to be aware if there is right intention. If you are interested to discover the whole process of yourself - not merely the superficial part, but the total process of your whole being - , then it is comparatively easy. If you really want to know yourself, you will search out your heart and your mind to know their full content; and when there is the intention to know, you will know. Then you can follow, without condemnation or justification, every movement, of thought and feeling; and by following every thought and every feeling as it arises, you bring about tranquillity which is not compelled, not regimented, but which is the outcome of having no problem, no contradiction. It is like the pool that becomes peaceful, quiet, any evening when there is no wind; and when the mind is still, then that which is immeasurable comes into being. Question: Why is your teaching so purely psychological? There is no cosmology, no theology, no ethics, no aesthetics, no sociology, no political science, not even hygiene. Why do you concentrate only on the mind and its workings? Krishnamurti: For a very simple reason, Sir. If the thinker can understand himself, then the whole problem is solved. Then he is creation, he is reality; and then what he does will not be antisocial. Virtue is not an end in itself; virtue brings freedom, and there can be freedom only when the thinker, which is the mind, ceases. That is why one has to understand the process of the mind, the `I', the bundle of desires that create the `I', my property, my wife, my ideas, my God. Surely, it is because the thinker is so confused that his actions are confused; it is because the thinker is confused that he seeks reality, order, peace. Because the thinker is confused, ignorant, he wants knowledge; and because the thinker is in contradiction, in conflict, he pursues ethics to control, to guide, to support him. So, if I can understand myself, the thinker, then the whole problem is solved, is it not? Then I will not be antisocial, I will not be rich and exploit the poor, I will not want things, things, things, which brings about a conflict between those who have and those who have not. Then I will have no caste, no nationality, there will be no separation between man and man. Then we shall love each other, we shall be kind. So, what is important, then, is not cosmology, not theology, not hygiene - though hygiene is necessary, and cosmology and theology are unnecessary; but what is important is to understand myself, the thinker. Now, is the thinker different from his thoughts? If thought ceases, is there the thinker? Can the quality be removed from the thinker? When the qualities of the thinker are removed, is there the thinker, the `I'? So, thoughts themselves are the thinker, they are not separate. The thinker has separated himself from his thoughts in order to safeguard himself; he can then always modify his thoughts according to circumstances, and yet remain aloof as the thinker. The moment he begin to modify the thinker, the thinker ceases. So, it is one of the tricks of the mind to separate the thinker from the thoughts, and then to be concerned about the thoughts, how to change them, how to modify them, how to transform them -all of which is a deception, an illusion. Because, the thinker is not if thought is not, and mere modification of thoughts does not do away with the thinker. That is one of the clever ways the thinker has of protecting himself, of giving himself permanency; whereas thoughts are impermanent. So, the self is perpetuated; but the self is not permanent, whether the higher self or the lower self. Both are still within the field of memory, within the field of time. So, the reason why I give so much importance and urgency to the psychology of the mind, is that the mind is the cause of all action; and without understanding that, merely to reform, to potter around, to trim the superficial actions, has very little meaning. We have done that for generations, and have brought about confusion, madness, and misery in the world. So, we have to go to the very root of the whole problem of existence, of consciousness, which is the `I', the thinker; and without understanding the thinker and its activities, mere superficial social reforms have no significance - at least, not for the man who is very serious, very earnest. That is why it is important for each of us to find out on that we are laying emphasis - whether on the superficial, the outward, or on the fundamental. Because, Sirs, with the world in such an insane mood of butchering, of destroying, of hurling man against man, surely the time has come for those who are really in earnest, purposeful, to tackle the problem radically and profoundly, and not deal with superficial reforms and trimmings. That is why it is important to know for yourself on what to lay emphasis, and not depend on another to tell you. If you give importance to the psychology of the thinker merely because I do, then you will be imitative and you can be persuaded to imitate somebody else when this does not suit you. So, you must think out this problem very seriously and very profoundly, and not wait for somebody to tell you on what to lay emphasis. Surely, all this is so obvious and clear. Organized religion, party and power politics, socialism, capitalism, communism, all have failed because they are not dealing with the fundamental nature of man. They want to trim the environmental influences; and what value has that when man is inwardly sick, diseased and confused? Surely, a good doctor is not concerned only with the symptoms. Symptoms are merely indicative. He goes to the cause, and eradicates the cause. So, a man who is in earnest has to go to the cause, and not superficially play with words; and the fundamental cause of this misery in the world is the lack of understanding of the process of ourselves. We do not want to bring order within ourselves, but only outward order. There will be outward order when there is inward order, because the inward always overcomes the outer. So, the emphasis obviously must be laid on the psychological process, with all its implications. When one understands oneself, there is happiness, there is peace, and a happy man is not in conflict with his neighbour. It is only the miserable man, the ignorant man, who is in conflict; his actions are antisocial, and wherever he goes he creates misery and more conflict. But a man who understands himself is at peace, and therefore his actions are peaceful. Question: You have said that all progress is in charity only, and that what we call progress is merely a process of disintegration. What is there to disintegrate? Chaos is always with us, and there is neither progress nor regress in chaos. Krishnamurti: I said there is technological progress, but otherwise there is no progress at all - which we see, obviously, in the world about us. There is progress, technological progress, from the simple wheel to this extraordinary thing called the airplane, the jet plane; but is there a progress of our minds, of our hearts? Do you love? Surely, Sir, action which is integrating, which is complete, can take place only where there is love, where there is charity; and without charity, without love, all technological progress leads to destruction, to disintegration. That is what is happening in the world at the present time. We are progressing towards chaos, because we are not progressing in charity - which opens up an enormous problem, and I don't think we will have time this evening to go into it fully. It is this: Is there such a thing at all as progress, evolution? I know there is technological progress, the evolution of better machines, and all the rest of it; but do you and I evolve? What is the thing that evolves, and towards what? Ignorance can never evolve into wisdom, greed can never become that which is not greed. Greed will always be greed, though it progresses, evolves. Through time, ignorance can never become wisdom. Ignorance must cease for wisdom to be; greed must cease for that which is not greed to come into being. So, when you talk of evolving, of progressing, you mean becoming something: you are this, and you will become that; you are the clerk, and you will become the manager; you are the priest, and you will become the bishop; you are poor, but you will become rich; you are evil, but you will eventually become good. This becoming is what you call progress, evolution; but it is merely the continuity, in a modified form, of that which is. Becoming is the continuity of what is in a modified form, and therefore there cannot be fundamental change in, what you call progress. We will discuss it another time, because it needs going into very, very carefully. In becoming, in continuity, can there ever be evolution, can there ever be progress? Only in ending is there rebirth, not in continuity. But progress, surely, can exist only in technological things, and you cannot `progress' in charity - that is, in the comparative sense of becoming more charitable, more loving. Where there is love, there is no comparison. Don't you know? When you love somebody, you love, you give yourself over completely - the you is non-existent. As long as the `you' remains, there is the desire to become, and in becoming there is no rebirth. Becoming is only a modified continuity, and that which continues, decays; that which continues, knows death; but that which is ending is free of death. Question: We know that thought destroys feeling. How to feel without thinking? Krishnamurti: Obviously, we know that rationalizing, calculating, bargaining, destroys feeling, love, affection. Have you not noticed that the more you rationalize, the more you bargain, the more you exploit, the more you use the mind, the less feeling there is? Because, feeling is very dangerous, to feel is very dangerous, is it not? To feel very strongly might lead you to what you call chaos, to confusion, to disorder; therefore you control it by rationalizing, and by rationalizing it you cease to be generous. Your feeling is destroyed when there is the thought process, which is naming, terming. You have a feeling of pain, of pleasure, of anger, and by terming it, by giving it a name, which is thinking about it, you modify it, and thereby reduce the feeling. Don't you know? When you feel generous, when you spontaneously want to give your shirt to somebody, your mind comes in and says, `What will happen?'. You begin to rationalize your feeling, and then you become charitable through organizations, not directly - which is avoidance of action. Strong feelings are dangerous, love is very dangerous; therefore you begin to think about love, which minimizes and slowly destroys love. The next question is, `Is it possible to feel without thinking?'. What do we mean by thinking? Thinking, merely, is the response of memory, either of pain or of pleasure. That is, there is no thinking without the residue of experience; and feeling - when I use the word `feeling' I mean love, not desire, not emotionalism, not all the putrefied stuff which you call feeling - , love cannot be brought within the field of thought. So, the more you respond to memory, which is called thinking, the less love there is. Love is burning, never still, it is from moment to moment, creative, new, fresh, joyous, and therefore it is very dangerous in society, in our relationship; so thought steps in, thought being the response of memory, and modifies love, controls it, tames it, guides it, legalizes it, puts it out of danger. Then it can live with it. Don't you know? When you love somebody, you love the whole of mankind -not just one person, you love man. And it is dangerous to love man, is it not? Because, then there is no barrier, no nationality, there is no craving for money, for position, for things - and such a man is dangerous to society, is he not? But you all want many things. You want fame, you build around yourselves a hood of ideas, of exclusions, and that is why a man who loves is dangerous to society; and so society, which is you, begins to build a thought process, which soon destroys love. For love to be, memory, with all its complex processes, has to come to an end. That is, memory arises only when experience is not fully, completely understood. Memory is only the residue of experience; memory is the result of a challenge which is not fully comprehended. Life is a process of challenge and response, the challenge always being new and the response always being old. So, one has to understand the old, the conditioned response, which means that thought must free itself from the past, from time, from yesterday; it must live each day, each minute, as completely, as fully, and as newly as possible. And you do that when you love, when your heart is full; you cannot do it with words, with things made by the mind, but only when you love. Then memory the thought that is merely the response of memory, ceases; then every minute is a new minute, every movement is a rebirth, and to love the one is to love the whole. February 22, 1948 BOMBAY 7TH PUBLIC TALK 29TH FEBRUARY, 1948 This evening I shall answer questions only, and before I do so I would like to point out one or two things. I think there is an art in listening. Most of us listen through a screen of prejudice. Either we are expecting a definite solution to our problems, or we are not aware of the innumerable prejudices which prevent us from really hearing what another says, or we are not sufficiently interested or concentrated to listen at all, To listen truly is to listen without strain, without struggle, without the effort of hearing; it is to listen as we would to music, to something that we know and enjoy, not merely to the repetition of a record, but to something fresh, new. You know what I mean. When you are enjoying something, a conversation, a piece of music, or when reading literature, you listen, and the words, the music, the sound, the silence between two notes, slips in, enters without your struggling to understand. So, if I may suggest, it will be good if we can listen without making the effort to listen, without accepting or rejecting; if we can listen without erecting a barrier of defence, or trying too eagerly to grasp what is being said. There must be a certain tension, like that of the violin string. When it is at the right tension, it gives the right note. Similarly, if we listen with right tension, with right awareness, then I think we will understand far more deeply and extensively than by merely listening to verbal expression. Then, if you are really aware, the words have a different significance, they penetrate far more deeply. It is like a seed that is sown in rich soil. So, if I may suggest, please listen to these answers, not so much with the intention of grasping the solution to the question, but rather let us consider that you and I are going to think out the problem together aloud and see where it leads us. Because, answering questions must be a rediscovery, to me as well as to you, not merely a repetition of an old record which you and I have learnt by heart. After all, music is the silence between two notes. If it were a continuous sound, there would be no music. It is the silence between two notes that gives emphasis, beauty to the notes. Similarly, it is silence between words, between thoughts, that gives significance, meaning to the thought. So, in listening to the answers to these questions, what is important is neither to accept nor to reject, but to understand what is being said without the barrier of prejudice. This is extremely arduous, because most of us are so grossly prejudiced, and are so unconscious of our prejudice, that it is very difficult to penetrate the thick armour of our own intentions, of our own bias; but if we can, at least for an evening, put this thick armour aside and listen as though we were really enjoying something together, then I think this and other meetings will have a definite significance. Question: Our ideals are the only thing between ourselves and madness. You are breaking a dam which keeps chaos out of our homes and fields. Why are you so foolhardy? The immature and the unsteady minds will be thrown off their feet by your sweeping generalizations. Krishnamurti: This question is put with regard to what I have said concerning ideals, examples, and the opposites; so, we will have to go over what I have said concerning ideals. And, as I have just said, please listen, not as if through a wall of resistance, but rather with a wish to understand. You have certain traditions and ideals, and perhaps what I am going to say will be contrary to everything that you think; and what I say may or may not be the truth. So, you have to listen with a certain resistance, with a certain freedom, with a certain elasticity; but if you merely enclose yourself within the walls of your own ideals, your own understanding, then, surely, what is being said will have no meaning. What I am going to say may be, and I think probably will be, quite contrary to what you believe; so, please listen to it, not with any dogmatism, or with any defensive mechanism, but with a sense of trying to understand what the other fellow is trying to say. Now, I have said that ideals in any form are an escape from the understanding of what is; that ideals, however noble, however intriguing, however fine, have no reality. Ideals are fictitious, without significance, because it is more important to understand what is than to pursue an ideal, or follow an ideal or a mode of action. We have innumerable ideals - non-violence, good, non-greed, peace, merit, and so on. You know the innumerable ideals within which our minds are enclosed. Now, are not these ideals fictitious? They are not really factual, they are non-existent, and since they are non-existent, of what value are they? Do they help me to understand my conflict, my violence, my greed, or are they a hindrance to that understanding? Will the screen of ideals help me to understand my arrogance, my violence, my evil? If ideals help me to understand, then they have significance; but if they do not give understanding, then they are valueless. Can a violent man become peaceful through the ideal of non-violence? Can I understand violence through the screen of my own idealism of non- violence? Must I not put aside the screen, the ideal, and examine my violence directly? And will the ideal help me to understand violence? This ia a very fundamental and important question. We ought to spend a little time on it, because the issues arising from it are very significant, and our whole social structure is based on this idealism which has no reality behind it. So, our problem is: Is evil ever understood through the ideal of good? Is not evil transformed, not through an ideal, not through the pursuit of its opposite, but in the direct understanding of evil itself? And does not the ideal in any form, which is the opposite, prevent the understanding of what is? I am greedy, I am violent, I am arrogant, I am angry, vicious, brutal; and will the ideal of nonviolence, non-greed, kindliness, help me to overcome that which I am? Surely, we have tried the pursuit of the ideal, of the opposite, and we are familiar with the conflict thus created between the opposites. We know all that very well. We are entirely familiar with that extraordinary struggle to become something other that what we are. Our religious, social, and moral education is based on this attempt to become something, to transform what is into something which it is not; and we know the struggle, the pain, the constant battle of the opposites, of the thesis and antithesis, hoping to arrive at a synthesis which is beyond both. Though we have not succeeded in arriving at that state, we are familiar with the constant battle of the opposites which is supposed to bring it about. Now, is that struggle necessary? Is not that struggle fallacious, unreal? Is not the opposite unreal? What is the real, the factual? The fact is, I am arrogant. Humility, the ideal is non-existent, it is fictitious. It is a creation of the mind as a means of escaping from what is. You are violent; and will the opposite help you to overcome that which you are? Obviously not. For centuries you have struggled to overcome it, yet you are violent. So the method of our approach must be wrong, and therefore there must be a new approach, a different way of attacking the problem of greed, of arrogance, of violence. But first we must see the fallacy of the ideal. As it was suggested to me this morning. India is the nation which fabricates ideals. Your pet industry is creating ideals for the world. And do we need ideals? Please, this is really a very important question. If you have no ideals, will you collapse, will you become immoral? Are your ideals acting as a dam against your immoral actions? Is your ideal of non-violence preventing you from being violent? The ideal of not being greedy, of having just enough to live, is that making you less greedy? Obviously not. Sir, we must look at this, mustn't we? The man who is greedy, who wants to pursue riches, goes on doing it in spite of the ideal which he talks about. Obviously, ideals are non-existent except in theory, and therefore they are valueless. So, why pursue them? In other words, an idealist is really a man who is escaping from that which is, who is avoiding action in the present. We are all very familiar with the idealist, how hard they are, how brutal, how resistant with that quality of hardness, because they are really avoiding the central issue, which is what they are. So, by removing the ideals, will the weak-minded be thrown off there feet? The weak-minded are already thrown off there feet by politicians, by the gurus, by there pujas, by there wedding ceremonies; and the man who is strong disregards the ideals anyhow, he pursues what he wants. So, neither party pays any attention to the ideals, which are a very convenient way to cover up a great many false things. So, is an ideal necessary to understand what is? Will the ideal of non-violence help me to understand violence? That is, if I am violent and want to transcend violence must I have the ideal of nonviolence? Surely, I don't have to have it do I? It is a hindrance, a positive hindrance to my direct understanding of the state in which I am, which is violence. So, the ideal, the opposite, the example, is a hindrance, an avoidance of the direct understanding of what is. Being violent, can I not understand it and transcend it? I can tackle it, I can understand it, only when I am not escaping from it, when I haven't this fantasy of the ideal, when I can look at it, examine it, and act upon it directly. But I don't want to act upon it directly, and therefore I invent this marvellous thing called the opposite, the ideal - a state which I can never achieve, because it is merely a postponement. So, the problem is: how to transcend, how to go beyond what is, which is violence, and not how to achieve the opposite. There is no opposite. There are the opposites of man and woman, a biological fact; but the opposite that the mind has created is non-existent. It is a convenient ruse, a trick of the mind to avoid acting directly upon what is. Can I transcend that which is, and not transform it, not make it into something else? I am greedy, violent; and can that violence, greed, come to an end? Obviously, it comes to an end when I can examine it and be completely aware of its whole social and psychological significance; but I can examine it only when there is no escape from what is - which none of us want to do, and that is the difficulty. None of us are honest enough to acknowledge that we are what we are, and then do something about it. To know that I am a liar, to know that I am greedy, is already the beginning of freedom from greed, from falsehood. But to acknowledge it requires a certain honesty, and as we are so dishonest in our thinking, in our relationships, in almost everything that we do, we are incapable of facing what is. So, in this question is involved seeing the truth in the false, that is seeing the truth of the falseness of the ideal; and the moment one is capable of seeing the truth in the false, one is also able to see that which is true as being true. It is that truthfulness, the acknowledgment that you are greedy, that you are violent, seeing the fact - of what you are without any pretence, that brings about liberation from it, and not the pursuit of the opposite. Question: Will the sexual urge disappear when we refuse to name it? Krishnamurti: I am afraid the question needs considerable explanation. It arises, apparently, from what we discussed yesterday evening. Now, the process of naming, terming, is quite a complex problem, and we must go into it very carefully and precisely; that is, we must understand the process of consciousness. I am sorry that in this question, though it is very simply put, a great deal is involved; and if I answer it too directly and briefly, those who were not at the discussion yesterday may misunderstand. So, I must go into it carefully, explaining the whole issue, Now, what do we mean by consciousness? I am not asking this question irrelevantly. It is directly connected with the question itself. What do we mean by consciousness? Consciousness, surely, is challenge and response, which is experiencing. That is the beginning of consciousness - challenge, response, and experiencing. The experience is named, termed, given a label as pleasant or unpleasant, and then it is recorded, put away in the mind. So, consciousness is a process of experiencing, naming and recording. Though complex, it is very simple. Please don't needlessly complicate it. Without the three processes at work, which are really a unitary process - experiencing, naming or terming and record- ing, pigeonholing, putting experience away in the framework of memory - , without this process, there is no consciousness. Now, this process is going on all the time, instantaneously, at different levels, and that is what you call consciousness. The song is repeated in different moods, with different themes, profoundly, in the deep layers of the unconscious, or superficially, on the surface of consciousness, in our everyday life; but it is always the same process of challenge and response, experiencing, naming or terming, and recording or memory. This is the theme, this is the record that is being played. Now, what would happen if the middle process, which is naming or terming, were not done, if the middle process were put an end to? Why do we term, why do we give a name to a feeling or to an experience calling it pleasant or unpleasant, anger, violence, good, bad, and so on? Why do we term an experience? Please, to some of you all this may appear to be technical. It is not technical. It is very simple, though it demands a little concentration. Most of us are used to political lectures, being told what to do or what to think, and we may find it difficult to pursue, evenly, easily, a thought of this kind; but as this is not a political lecture, we will have to be a little concentrated. So, consciousness is a process of experiencing, naming, and recording; and why is it that we give a name to an experience, to a feeling? We give it a name, either to communicate it to another; or else to fix it in memory, which is to give it continuity,. If there is no continuity, then mind is not, consciousness is not. I must give continuity to an experience, otherwise consciousness ceases. Therefore, I must give it a name. The giving of a name to a feeling, to an experience, is instantaneous; because the mind, which is the record-keeper, memory, labels a feeling in order to give it substance, in order to give it continuity, in order to be able to examine it - which means the continuation of thought. After all, the thinker is the thought; and without the process of thought, without giving continuity to the process of thought, there is no permanency for the thinker. So, naming a feeling, an experience, gives permanency to the thinker, to the record-keeper, which is the mind. That is, you give a name to a feeling, to an experience, and thereby give it continuity; and upon this, the mind feeds and feels itself to be existent. Take any experience, any feeling or sensation that you have - anger, hatred, love; by giving it a name, you have stabilized it, you have put it within the framework of reference. So, the very nature of terming an experience is the giving of continuity to consciousness, to the `I'. This process is going on all the time, so swiftly that we are unconscious of it. This record is being played ceaselessly at different levels, in different themes, with different words, whether waking or sleeping. Now, what happens if you don't term, if you don't give a name to an experience? If you are not naming the various sensations, if you have no background, where is the `you'? That is, when it is not named, the feeling or the experience withers away, it has no continuity. Experiment with yourself, and you will see. If you have a very strong feeling of nationalism, what happens? You give it a name, the thought arises of idealism, love, `my country; that is, you term it and thereby give it a continuity. It is very difficult not to term it, because the process of naming a feeling is so automatic, so instantaneous. But suppose you do not name a feeling, what happens to that feeling? Surely, the record-keeper cannot identify himself with that feeling. He does not give it substance, he does not give it strength, he does not give it vitality. Therefore, it withers away. The next time you are feeling the sensation which you term irritation, don't give it a name. Don't say, `I am irritated', don't term it, and see what happens. You will discover an extraordinary thing happening. The mind is bewildered, because the mind dislikes to be in a state of uncertainty. Then bewilderment becomes more important than the feeling, and the feeling is forgotten and bewilderment remains. But the mind does not like to be bewildered, puzzled; therefore, it demands security, and it seeks security, certainty, in the record, in memory, thereby strengthening the record-keeper. It is really quite fascinating, if you observe the process of your own consciousness. But you cannot learn all this in a book. No book can teach it, and what a book teaches is not worthwhile. You can only repeat what a book teaches; but if you experiment and discover for yourself, then you are both the teacher and the pupil, and you no longer want the gurus, the books, and all the rest of it. Then you know how to tackle the problem, any problem that arises, for yourself, because you are both the teacher and the pupil, you know the ways of the working of your own consciousness. You discover that in not terming a sensation, in not giving it a name, that feeling, that sensation comes to an end. And now you will say `I have learned a very good trick. I know how to deal with unpleasant feelings, how to make them come to an end quickly: I won't term them'. But will you do the same with regard to pleasant feelings? I am afraid you won't. Because, you want pleasant feelings to continue, you want to give substance to pleasant sensations, you want to maintain them. Therefore, you will keep on giving them names. But that does not lead anywhere; because, the moment you give a name, a term, to a feeling which is pleasant, you are inevitably creating the opposite, and therefore you will always have the conflict of the opposites. Whereas, if you don't name, term, label, a sensation, whether pleasant or unpleasant, they both wither away; and therefore the thinker, who is the creator of the opposites, comes to an end. Then only shall we know what love is, because love is not a sensation. You can name it, but when you name it, you are naming the sensation of love, which is not love. When you love somebody, what happens? When you think about a person, what happens? You are really dealing with the sensation of that person; you are concerned with that sensation, and the more you give emphasis to sensation the less there is of love. Now, the question is, "will the sexual urge disappear when we refuse to name it?" It will disappear, obviously; but if you don't understand the whole process of consciousness, as I have carefully explained, merely putting an end to a particular urge, pleasant or unpleasant, does not bring about that eternal quality of love. Without love, merely putting an end to an urge has no meaning, and you will become as dry as the idealist whose passions are very carefully held in check. Because, if you do not understand the whole process of consciousness, the passions are always there, though you refuse to name them. To understand the whole process, is very arduous. You may have understood the verbal expressions of what I have explained, but the living significance, the inward meaning, you will understand only through experimentation. As I have said, where there is love, there is chastity. But the man, the idealist who is passionate and wants to be chaste, who wants to become dispassionate - such a man will never know love, because he is only concerned with becoming something, which is another form of selfishness. He is only concerned with his struggle to achieve, to reach the ideal, which is non-existent. Therefore such a man has an empty heart, and he fills his empty heart with the things made by the mind. And how can he know love, when his heart is filled with the ideal, which is a thing made by the mind? So, it is a very complex and subtle problem, this question of terming, giving a name; but you will understand it if you experiment with it. There are enormous riches, an enormous depth, in understanding this process of terming, naming a feeling a sensation. Once you open the door to it, you will discover vast riches; but to discover, there must be freedom to experiment, and freedom comes through virtue - not in becoming virtuous, but in being virtuous. Question: Why can't you influence the leaders of a party, or members of a government, and work through them? Krishnamurti: For the simple reason that leaders are factors of degeneration in society, and governments are the expression of violence. And how can you, how can any man who really wants to understand truth, work through instruments which are opposed to reality? Now, why do we want leaders, political or religious: For the obvious reason that we want to be directed, we want to be told what to do or what to think. Our education, our social and religious organizations, are based on that: they tell us, not how to think, but what to think. Naturally, then, you must have leaders. Because you are confused, disintegrating, because you are in misery and do not know what to do, you look to somebody else, to political, religious, or economic leaders, to help you out of this chaotic condition of existence. Now, can any leader, political or religious, lead you out of this misery, out of this confusion? Please, this is a very important question. Because, in leadership is implied power, position, prestige; in leadership is implied exploitation - by the follower as well as by the leader. The leader comes into being because the led want to be led. That is, the follower exploits the leader, and the leader exploits the follower. Without the follower, where is the leader? He is frustrated, he feels lost. And without the leader, where is the follower? So, it is a process of mutual exploitation; and where there is a desire for power, for position, for dominance, for guidance, there is no understanding. Where the leader becomes the authority, the person to whom everything is referred, politically or religiously, then you as the follower become merely the record-player, the automaton; and as most people want to repeat, to look on while the leaders play, the result is that you become unproductive, thoughtless. That is exactly what has happened in the world. So, our problem is, why do we need leaders? Can anybody, lead you out of your confusion, which you yourself are creating? Others may point out the causes of your confusion - but surely, they don't become leaders. For example, I am pointing out the cause of confusion, but I am not becoming your leader or your guru. It is for you to perceive and act upon it, or to leave it. But if I made you join an organization, if I became your authority, then I would become important; therefore your confusion would still exist, and you would merely be running away from your confusion and giving emphasis to me; whereas, the emphasis should be laid on your confusion, and not on me. So, I am out of the picture. What is important is to understand your own suffering, your own confusion, your own pain, your own disastrous existence. And to understand, do you need anybody's help? What you need is to look truly, to look with clarity, with eyes that are not biased. And you have to do that for yourself, you have to look within yourself to find out whether you are biased, whether you are prejudiced. That means, you have to be aware of your own process, of your idiosyncracies; but as most of us are unwilling to discover ourselves and go into the process of self-knowledge, we look to a leader - or rather, we create a leader. So, the leader becomes important, because the leader helps us to run away from ourselves. The leader can be worshipped, put away in a cage and whispered about. So, the leader is really a degenerating factor. Surely, when the individual, when a society, when a culture looks to a leader, it indicates a state of disintegration. A society that is creative has no leader, because each individual is a light unto himself. Such a society is the result of relationship between people who are seeking deep, fundamental self-knowledge, understanding; and such people don't require a static society with its leaders, with its authoritarian social organizations. Question: By what mechanism do we change the world when we change ourselves? Krishnamurti: I have said that the individual problem is the world problem; that the individual, with his inner conflicts, with his psychological struggles, with his frustrations, with his anxieties, pursuits, motives, projects these into the world, and in this way the problem of the individual becomes the world problem. Therefore, the world and the individual are not two separate entities; the mass and the individual are interrelated, they are inseparable. When we consider the individual, we are considering the world, the mass, the whole. They cannot be separated. The world is not apart from you, the world is you - not mystically, but actually; biologically and psychologically, in relationship, the world is you. Because, whatever you are - your greeds, your ambitions, your frustrations - , is projected into the world; and however cunningly and subtly the social system may be devised, the inner man always overcomes the outer. Therefore, there must be transformation of the inner - not in opposition to the outer, not in antagonism to the mass, not in separation from the world, but as a total process. The individual and the world are a total process, and to transform the world, you must begin near, with yourself. You cannot transform the world - that has no meaning. The world has no referent; but the individual has a referent, which is me, which is you. Therefore, I can begin with myself - which does not mean opposing individual perfection to the mass. It is very important to understand that we are not discussing individual perfection at all. To seek individual perfection leads to isolation, to segregation; and nothing can exist in isolation. We are not discussing self-improvement. On the contrary, self-improvement is merely another form of self-enclosure. We are discussing, we are trying to understand, the individual process, which is not separate from the world process. But to understand the world, I must begin somewhere, and I can begin only with that which is near, which is me. So, if that is clear, then we can see the mechanism of change -how, by changing myself, I can transform the world. That is, as long as I am greedy, as long as I am nationalistic, as long as I am acquisitive, I create a society in which greed, acquisitiveness, and nationalism are rampant, which means conflict, ultimately leading to war. Obviously, there can be no mechanism of change as long as I am greedy, as long as I am seeking power, for my actions will inevitably bring about a state of power, political, religious and social power, leading ultimately to conflict. Therefore, being the total process of society" I am responsible for war; and if I wish ardently for peace, if I would concern myself with peace, then I must cease to be greedy, acquisitive, I must have no nationality, I must not belong to any organized religion or to any ideology. I am the total process of the world, and if I change, if I transform myself, I bring about radical transformation in society; but to be free of ideology, to be free from belief - which separates man from man, as the Hindu and the Muslim, the Christian and the Buddhist - , to be free from acquisitiveness, to be free from envy, is very arduous. And a man who wants to understand the whole significance of existence, has to understand himself - not as the individual opposed to society or the mass, but as a total process. That is, he has to be aware of every thought, every feeling, every action; and in understanding greed - which, as I have explained, is not naming, is not thinking about greed - he puts an end to greed. Such a man will know love; being free from the elements that create antagonism - belief, nationalism, acquisitiveness - , he will be a factor in bringing about a transformation in the world. Question: What is true and what is false in the theory of reincarnation? Krishnamurti: I hope that after listening for two hours and ten minutes your minds are still fresh. Are they, Sirs and Ladies? Alright. What we are trying to do here is to think out the problem together - you are not merely listening to a gramophone. I refuse to be a gramophone; but you are accustomed merely to listen, which means that you are really not following at all. You are listening superficially, being charmed by words, and therefore you are not the regenerators or creators of new society. You are the disintegrating factor, Sirs, and that is the calamity; but you don't see the tragedy of it. The world, India included, is on the verge of a precipice, burning, disintegrating rapidly; and a man who merely listens to the leader, accustoming himself to words and remaining a spectator, is contributing to the disaster. So, if I may suggest, don't get accustomed to what I am saying. I don't repeat; I am thinking anew each time I answer a question. If I merely repeated, it would be frightfully boring to me. As I don't want to bore myself with repetition, I am thinking it out afresh - and so must you, if you have the curiosity and the intensity to discover. Now, what is involved in this question of reincarnation? It is an enormous problem, and we cannot settle it in a few minutes. So, in examining this question, let us look at it without any bias - which does not mean keeping a so-called open mind. There is no such thing as an open mind: what is needed is an enquiring mind. We must both enquire into this question. Now, in enquiring into it, what is it that we are looking for? We are looking for the truth, not according to your belief or my belief; because, to find the truth of any matter, I can have no belief. I want to find the truth; therefore I am enquiring, laying bare everything involved in this question, not taking shelter behind any particular form of prejudice. That is, I am enquiring honestly, my mind is very honestly trying to find out, therefore it won't be sidetracked either by the Bhagavad Gita, or by the Bible, or by my pet guru. I want to know, and to know I must have the intensity to pursue; and a man who is tethered to a belief, however long the rope, is still held, and therefore he cannot enquire. He can enquire only within the radius of his own bondage, and therefore he will never find truth. So, what is the thing implied in reincarnation? What is the thing that reincarnates? You understand what is meant by reincarnation: coming back over and over again in different forms at different times. What is this continuous quality that comes into rebirth? There are only two possibilities: either that thing called the soul, the `I', is a spiritual entity, or it is merely a bundle of my memories, my characteristics, my tendencies, my unfulfilled desires, my achievements, and so on. We are looking into the problem, we are not taking sides; therefore we are not defending anything. A man who is on the defensive will never know what is truth. He will find that which he defends, and that which he defends is no longer the truth; it is his own inclination, his own bias, his own prejudice. Now, we are going to examine that which we call the spiritual entity. The spiritual entity, obviously, cannot be created by me. It is not the outcome of my mind, of my thought, of my projection. It must be independent of me. The spiritual entity, if it is spiritual, cannot be created by me. It must be other than me. Now, if it is other than me, it must be timeless, it must be the eternal, it must be the real; and that which is the real, that which is timeless, that which is immeasurable, cannot evolve, grow. It cannot come back. It is beyond time, therefore it is deathless. Now, if it is deathless, if it is beyond me, then I have no control over it, it is not within the field of my consciousness; therefore I cannot think about it, I cannot enquire if it can or cannot reincarnate. Obviously, that which is beyond my control, I cannot enquire into. I can enquire only into that which I know, which is my own projection; and if the spiritual entity, which I call Krishnamurti, is beyond me, then it is timeless, then I cannot think about it; and what I cannot think about has no reality for me. Therefore, since it is timeless and deathless, and as I am concerned with death, with time, I cannot enquire into it. Therefore, I need not be bothered. But we are bothered. What we are bothered about is not the continuance of a spiritual entity, but whether the `I' continues, the everyday `I' of my achievements, my failures, my frustrations, my bank account, my characteristics and idiosyncracies, my property, my family, my beliefs - will all that continue? That is what we want to know - not whether the spiritual entity continues, which, as I pointed out, is an absurd question, Because, reality, timeless being, cannot be known to a person who is caught in the net of time. As thought is the process of time, as thought is founded on the past, for thought to speculate about the timeless is utterly meaningless. It is an escape. That which is the result of time can only know itself, can only enquire into itself. So, I want to know if the `I' continues. The `I', which is a total process, a psychological as well as physiological process, which is with the body and also apart from the body - I want to know if that `I' continues, if it comes into being after this physical existence ends. Now, what do we mean by continuity? We have examined more or less what we mean by the `I: my name, my characteristics, my frustrations, my achievements - you know, all the varieties of thought and feeling at different levels of consciousness. So, we know that. Then, what do we mean by continuity; to continue, what does it mean? What is it that gives continuity? What is it that says, `I shall or shall not continue'? What is it that is clinging to continuity, permanency, which is security? After all, I seek security here in possessions, in things, in family, in beliefs; and when the body dies, the permanency of things, the permanency of family, has gone, but the permanency of idea continues. So, it is the idea that we want to continue. We see that property is going to disappear, that there will be no family; but we want to know whether the idea continues, whether the idea of `I', the thought `I am', is continuous. Please, it is important to see the difference. I know that I shall be burnt, that the body will be destroyed. I know that I shall not see you, that I shall not see my family; but does not the idea of the `me' continue to exist? Is not the idea of `me' continuous - continuous meaning becoming, moving from time to time, from period to period, from experience to experience. So, that is the real enquiry: whether the `I', the idea or formulation of the `me', will continue. Are you not tired? Alright, Sirs. So, what is the `I'? We have enquired into that, and you know what it is. Obviously, thought identifies itself with a belief, and that belief continues like an electric wave. Thought, identified with a belief, has continuity, has substance; that thought is termed, is named, it is given recognition as the `I', and that `I' obviously has movement, it continues, becomes. Now, what happens to that which continues? Do you understand the problem? What happens to a thing that is continuous constantly becoming? That which continues has no renewal; it is merely repeating itself in different forms, but it has no renewal. That is, thought identified with an idea has continuance as the `I; but a thing that continues is constantly decaying, it knows birth and death. In that sense it continues, but the thing that continues can never renew itself. There is renewal only when there is an ending. Again, it is very important to discover and to understand this. Say, for example, I am worried over a problem which I am trying to solve, and I keep on worrying. What happens? There is no renewal, is there? The problem continues day after day, week after week, year after year. But when the worry is ended, there is a renewal, and then the problem has a different significance. Only in ending is there renewal, only in death is there a rebirth - which means death to the day, to the moment. But when there is merely the desire to continue and therefore identification with a belief, or with a memory , which is the `I', in such continuance there is no renewal -which is an obvious fact. A man who has a problem, who is continuously worried for a number of years, is dead, for him there is no renewal; he is of the living dead, he merely continues. But the moment the problem ends, there is a renewal. Similarly, where there is ending, there is rebirth, there is creation; but where there is continuity, there is no creation. Sirs, see the beauty of it, the truth of it, that in ending there is love. Love is new from moment to moment, it is not continuous, it is not repetitive. That is its greatness, that is its truth. A man who seeks continuity will obviously find it, because he identifies himself with an idea, and idea or memory continues; but in mere continuity there is no renewal. Only in death, in ending, is there renewal, not in continuity. Now, you will say that I have not answered the question whether there is reincarnation or not. Surely, I have answered your question. Sir, to the problems of life there are no categorical answers `yes' and `no'. Life is too vast. It is only the thoughtless who seek a categorical answer. But, analyzing this question, we have discovered a great many things. There is beauty only in ending, there is renewal, creation, a beginning, only in death, in dying every minute - which means not hoarding, not laying up, physically or psychologically. So, life and death are one, and the man who knows they are one is he who dies every minute. This means not naming, not letting the record-keeper play over and over again that which is his particular consciousness. Immortality is not the continuance of an idea, which is the `I'. Immortality is that which is constantly dying and therefore constantly renewing. February 29, 1948 BOMBAY 8TH PUBLIC TALK 7TH MARCH, 1948 We must often have wondered why life from birth to death is a process of constant struggle. Why is it that life, everyday existence is such a struggle, a constant battle with oneself, with one's neighbour, with one's ideas? Why this constant battle, this constant struggle? Is it necessary, or is there a different process? This conflict and struggle, this travail and battle with oneself and with one's neighbour, is it necessary for existence, for living? We see that life as we know it is an endless process of becoming, moving from what is to what is not, from anger to non-anger, from violence to peace, from hatred to love. Surely, becoming is a process of repetition in which there is always strife. We see that whatever we do in life, the struggle of becoming is continually repeating itself. This becoming is the cultivation of memory, is it not; and the cultivation of memory is called righteousness, Righteousness is a process of self-enclosure. This constant becoming - the clerk becoming the manager, the ignoble becoming the noble - , this constant strife, is a form of self-perpetuation.. We know this battle to become something: being attached, we want to become detached; being poor we want to become rich; being small, we want to become great; being petty, we seek to be deep, profound, worthwhile. There is this constant battle of becoming, and in becoming there is obviously the cultivation of memory. Without memory there is no becoming. I am angry, and I want to become non-angry; I want to possess the state of non-anger, and I struggle. This struggle is considered righteous. So, righteousness, this process of becoming, is obviously one of self-enclosure. The moment I wish to become something or to be something, emphasis is laid on the becoming, on the being; and hence there is this struggle. To this struggle we have given significance. We say it is righteous, it is noble. So, from birth to death we are caught in an endless struggle, and we have accepted this battle of becoming as worthwhile, as noble, as an essential part of existence. Now, is life, existence, inevitably a process of struggle, pain, sorrow, a continuous battle? Surely, there is something wrong in this action of becoming, There must be a different approach, a different way of existence. I think there is; but it can be understood only when we understand the full significance of becoming. In becoming there is always repetition, and therefore the cultivation of memory, which is emphasis on the self, and the self in its very nature is travail, strife, battle. Now, virtue can never be a becoming. Virtue is being, in which there is no struggle. You cannot become virtuous; either you are, or you are not virtuous. You can always become righteous, but you can never become virtuous; because, virtue brings freedom, and you will notice that a righteous man is never free. This does not mean that a virtuous man is self-indulgent; but virtue, by its very nature, brings freedom, If you attempt to be virtuous, what happens? You merely become, righteous. Whereas, virtue necessarily brings freedom; because the moment you understand the process, the struggle of becoming, there is being, and therefor there is virtue. Take, for example, mercy. You can never become merciful, can you? If you do, what happens? If you struggle to become merciful, if you try to become generous, kindly, what happens? In trying to become merciful, emphasis is laid on becoming, which means that emphasis is laid on the self - the `me' becoming something, and the `me' can never be merciful, can it? It can be clothed in righteousness, but it can never be virtuous. So, virtue is not righteousness; the righteous man can never be a virtuous man. Righteousness is always a process of self-enclosure; whereas virtue, in which there is no becoming, but being, is always free, open and orderly. Experiment with yourself and you will see that the moment you strive to become virtuous, merciful, generous, you are merely building a resistance; whereas, if you really understand the process of becoming, which is giving emphasis to the self, then you will find that there comes a confidence, a freedom, a being in which there is virtue. Now, how is one to transform, to bring about this radical change from becoming to being? A person who is becoming and therefore striving, struggling, battling with himself - how is such a person to know that state of being which is virtue, which is freedom? I hope I am making the question clear. That is, I have been struggling for years to become something, not to be envious, to become non-envious; and how am I to shed, to drop the struggle, and just be? Because, as long as I struggle to become what I call righteous, I am obviously setting up a process of self enclosure; and there is no freedom in enclosure. So, all that I can do is to be aware, passively aware of my process of becoming. If I am shallow, I can be passively aware that I am shallow, without the struggle to become something. If I am angry, if I am jealous, if I am unmerciful, envious, I can just be aware of that and not contend with it. The moment we contend with a quality, we give emphasis to the struggle, and therefore strengthen the wall of resistance. This wall of resistance is considered righteousness; but for a righteous man, truth can never come into being. It is only to the free man that truth can come; and to be free, there cannot be the cultivation of memory, which is righteousness. So, one has to be aware of this struggle, of this constant battle. Just be aware without contention, without condemnation; and if you are truly watchful, passively yet alertly aware, you will find that envy, jealousy, greed, violence and all these things, drop away, and there comes order - quietly, speedily, there comes order that is not righteous, that is not enclosing. For virtue is freedom, it is not a process of enclosure. It is only in freedom that truth can come into being. Therefore, it is essential to be virtuous, not righteous, because virtue brings order. It is only the righteous man that is confused, that is in conflict, it is only the righteous man that develops his will as a means of resistance; and a man of will can never find truth, because he is never free. Being, which is recognizing what is, accepting and living with what is - not trying to transform it, not condemning it - , brings about virtue; and in that there is freedom. Only when the mind is not cultivating memory, when it is not seeking righteousness as a means of resistance, is there freedom; and in that freedom there comes reality, the bliss of which must be experienced. Question: Are not religious symbols the expression of a reality too deep to be false? The simple name of God moves us as nothing else. Why should we shun it? Krishnamurti: Why do we need symbols? Symbols exist, obviously, as a means of communicating with others; through language, a painting, a poem, you communicate something which you feel or which you think. But why need we crowd our lives with religious symbols - either the cross, the crescent, or the Hindu symbols? Why do we need them? Are not symbols a hindrance? Why can't we experience what is, directly, immediately and swiftly? Why do we seek the medium of symbols? Are they not distractions? An image, a painting, a thing made by the hand, of wood or stone, though it is a symbol, is it not a hindrance? You will say, I need an image as a symbol of reality. Now, what happens when you have symbols? The Hindus have their symbols, the Christians theirs, and the Muslims theirs - the temple, the church, the mosque, with the result that the symbols have become much more important than the search for reality. And surely, reality is not in the symbol. The word is not the thing; God is not the word. But the word, the symbol, has become important. Why? Because we are really not seeking reality: we merely decorate the symbol. We are not seeking; what is beyond and above the symbol, with the result that the symbol has become extraordinarily important, vital in our lives - and we are willing to kill each other for it. Also, the word `God' gives us a certain stimulation, and we think that that stimulation, that sensation, has some relation to the real. But has sensation, which is a thought process, any relationship to reality? Thought is the outcome of memory, the response to a condition; and has such a thought process any connection with reality, which is not a thought process? Therefore, has a symbol, which is the creation of the mind, any relationship to reality? And is not a symbol an easy escape, a fanciful distraction from the real? After all, if you are really seeking truth, why do you want the symbol? It is the man who is satisfied with an image that clings to the symbol; but if he wants to find what is real, obviously he must leave the symbol. We crowd our lives, our minds, with symbols, because we have not the other. If we love, surely, we do not want the symbol of love, or the example of love - we just love. But the man who holds an example, a symbol, a picture, an ideal in his mind, is obviously not in a state of love. Therefore, symbols, examples, are hindrances, and these hindrances become so important, that we are killing others and maiming our minds and hearts because of them. Sir, why not appreciate things directly? One loves a person, or a tree, not because of what it represents, not because it is the manifestation of reality, of life, or of anything else - that is merely an easy explanation. One just loves. Surely, when one is able to love life itself, not because it is the manifestation of reality, then in that very love of life one will find what is real. But if you treat life as a manifestation of something else, then you abominate life; then you want to run away from life, or you make life a hideous business, which necessitates your escape from the actual. Besides, a mind that is caught in symbols is not a simple mind. And you must have a very simple, clear mind, an unpolluted, uncorrupted mind, to find the real. A mind that is caught in words, in phrases, in mantrams, in patterns of action, can never understand that which is real. It must strip itself of everything to be free, and only then, surely, can the real come into being. Question: What do you advise us to do when war breaks out? Krishnamurti: Instead of seeking advice, may I suggest that we examine the problem together? Because, it is very easy to advise, but it does not solve the problem. But if we examine the problem together, then perhaps we shall be able to see how to act when a war breaks out. It has to be a direct action, not action based on somebody else's advice or authority, which would be too stupid in a moment of crisis. In moments of crisis, to follow another leads to our own destruction. After all, in critical times like war, you are led to destruction; but if you know all the implications of war and see its action, how it comes into being, then when the crisis does arise, without seeking advice, without following somebody, you will act directly and truly. This does not mean that I am trying to avoid the problem by not answering your question directly. I am not dodging it: on the contrary. I am showing that we can act virtuously - which is not `righteously' - when this appalling catastrophe comes upon man. Now, what would you do if there was a war? Being a Hindu, or an Indian, or a German, being nationalistic, patriotic, you would naturally jump to arms, wouldn't you? Because, through propaganda, through horrible pictures and all the rest of it, you would be stimulated, and you would be ready to fight. Being conditioned by patriotism, by nationalism, by economic frontiers, by the so-called love of country, your immediate response would be to fight. So, you would have no problem, would you? You have a problem only when you begin to question the causes of war -which are not merely economic, but much more psychological and ideological. When you begin to question the whole process of war, how war comes into being, then you have to be directly responsible for your actions. Because, war comes into being only when you, in your relationship with another, create conflict. After all, war is a projection of our daily life - only more spectacular and more destructive. In daily life we are killing, destroying, maiming thousands through our greed, through our nationalism, through our economic frontiers, and so on. So, war is the continuation of your daily existence, made more spectacular; and the moment you directly question the cause of war, you are questioning your relationship with another, which means that you are questioning your whole existence, your whole way of living. And if you enquire intelligently, not superficially, when war comes you will respond according to your enquiry and understanding. A man who is peaceful - not because of an ideal of non-violence, which we have gone into, but - , who is actually free of violence, to him war has no meaning. He will obviously not enter it; he may be shot because he does not enter into war, but he accepts the consequences. At least he will not take part in the conflict - but not out of idealism. The idealist, as I have explained, is a person who avoids immediate action. The idealist who is seeking non-violence is incapable of being free from violence; because, as our whole life is based on conflict and violence, if I don't understand myself now, today, how can I act truly tomorrow when there is a calamity? Being acquisitive, being conditioned by nationalism, by my class -you know the whole process - , how can I, who am conditioned by greed and violence, act without greed and violence when there is a catastrophe? Naturally I will be violent. Also, when there is a war, many like the bounties of war: the government is going to look after me, it is going to feed my family; and it is a break from my daily routine, from going to the office, from the monotonous things of life. Therefore, war is an escape, and to many it offers an easy way out of responsibility. Have you not heard what many soldiers say? `Thank God. It is a beastly business, but at least it is something exciting.' Also, war offers a release to our criminal instincts. We are criminal in our daily life, in our business world, in our relationships, but it is all underground, very carefully hidden, covered over by a righteous blanket, a legalised acceptance of this criminality; and war gives us a release from that hypocrisy -at last we can be violent. So, how you will act in time of war depends upon you, upon the condition, the state of your being. To say, `You must not enter war' to a man who is conditioned to violence, is utterly useless. It is a futile waste of time to tell him not to fight, because he is conditioned to fight, he loves to fight. But those of us who are seriously intentioned can investigate our own lives, we can see how we are violent in daily life, in our speech, in our thoughts, in our actions, in our feelings, and we can be free of that violence, not because of an ideal not by trying to transform it into nonviolence, but by actually facing it, by merely being aware of it; then when war comes, we shall be able to act truly. A man who is seeking an ideal will act falsely, because his response will be based on frustration. Whereas, if we are capable of being aware of our own thoughts, feelings and actions in daily life - not condemning them, but just being aware of them - , then we will free ourselves from patriotism, from nationalism, from flag-waving, and all that rot, which are the very symbols of violence; and when we are free, then we will know how to act truly when that crisis comes which is called war. Question: Can a man who abhors violence take part in the government of a country? Krishnamurti: Now, what is government? After all, it is, it represents, what we are. In so-called democracy, whatever that may mean, we elect, to represent us, those who are like ourselves, those whom we like, who have got the loudest voice, the cleverest mind, or whatever it is. So, obviously, government is what we are, isn't it? And what are we? We are, arn't we?, a mass of conditioned responses - violence, greed, acquisitiveness, envy, desire for power, and so on. So, naturally, the government is what we are, which is violence in different forms; and how can a man who really has no violence in his being belong, either in name or in fact, to a structure which is violent? Can reality co-exist with violence, which is what we call government? Can a man who is seeking or experiencing reality have anything to do with sovereign governments, with nationalism, with an ideology, with party politics, with a system of power? The peaceful person thinks that by joining the government he will be able to do some good. But what happens when he enters government? The structure is so powerful that he is absorbed by it, and he can do very little. Sir, this is a fact, it is actually happening in the world. When you join a party, or stand for election to parliament, or whatever it is, you have to accept the party line. Therefore, you cease to think. And how can a man who has given himself over to another - whether it is to a party, to a government, or to a guru - , how can he find reality? And how can he who is seeking truth have any relation to power politics? You see, we ask these questions because we like to rely on outside authority, on environment, for the transformation of ourselves. We hope leaders, governments, parties, systems, patterns of action, will somehow transform us, bring about order and peace in our lives. Surely, that is the basis of all these questions, is it not? Can another, be it a government or a guru or a devil, give you peace and order? Can another bring you happiness and love? Surely not. Peace can come into being only when the confusion which we have created is completely understood, not on the verbal level, but inwardly; when the causes of confusion, of strife, are removed, obviously there is peace and freedom. But without removing the causes, we look to some outward authority to bring us peace; and the outward is always submerged by the inner. As long as the psychological conflict exists, the search for power, for position, and so on, whatever the outward structure, however well built, however good and orderly it may be, the inward confusion always overcomes it. Surely, therefore, we must lay emphasis on the inner, and not merely look to the outer. Question: You don't seem to think that we have won our independence. According to you, what would be the state of real freedom? Krishnamurti: Sir, freedom becomes isolation when it is nationalistic; and isolation inevitably leads to conflict, because nothing can exist in isolation. To be, is to be related; and merely to isolate yourself within a national frontier invites confusion, sorrow, starvation, conflict, war - which has been proved over and over again. So, independence as a State apart inevitably leads to conflict and to war, because independence for most of us implies isolation. And when you have isolated yourself as a national entity, have you gained freedom? Have you gained freedom from exploitation, from class struggle, from starvation, from conflicting religiosity, from the priest, from communal strife, from leadership? Obviously, you have not. You have only driven out the white exploiter, and the brown has taken his place - probably a little more ruthlessly. We have the same thing as before, the same exploitation, the same priests, the same organized religion, the same superstitions and class wars. And has that given us freedom? Sir, we don't want to be free. Don't let us fool ourselves. Because, freedom implies intelligence, love; freedom implies non-exploitation, non-submission to authority; freedom implies extraordinary virtue. As I said, righteousness is always an isolating process, for isolation and righteousness go together; whereas, virtue and freedom are co-existent. A sovereign nation is always isolated, and therefore can never be free; therefore it is a cause of constant strife, of suspicion, antagonism and war. Surely, freedom must begin with the individual, who is a total process, not antagonistic to the mass. The individual is the total process of the world, and if he merely isolates himself in nationalism or in righteousness, then he is the cause of disaster and misery. But if the individual - who is a total process, not opposed to the mass, but who is a result of the mass, of the whole - if the individual transforms himself, his life, then for him there is freedom; and because he is the result of a total process, when he liberates himself from nationalism, from greed, from exploitation, he has direct action upon the whole. The regeneration of the individual is not in the future, but now; and if you postpone your regeneration to tomorrow, you are inviting confusion, you are caught in the wave of darkness. Regeneration is now, not tomorrow, because understanding is only in the present. You don't understand now because you don't give your heart and mind, your whole attention, to that which you want to understand. If you give your mind and heart to understand, you will have understanding. Sir, if you give your mind and your heart to find out the cause of violence, if you are fully aware of it, you will be non-violent now. But unfortunately, you have so conditioned your mind by religious postponement and social ethics that you are incapable of looking at it directly - and that is our trouble. So, understanding is always in the present, and never in the future. Understanding is now, not in the days to come. And freedom, which is not isolation, can come into being only when each one of us understands his responsibility to the whole. The individual is the product of the whole - he is not a separate process, he is the result of the whole. After all, you are the result of all India, of all humanity. You may call yourself by whatever name you like, but you are the result of a total process, which is man. And if you, the psychological you, are not free, how can you have freedom outwardly; of what significance is external freedom? You may have different governors - and good God, is that freedom? You may have the multiplication of provinces, because each person wants a job; but is that freedom? Sir, we are fed by words without much content; we darken the councils with words that have no meaning; we have fed on propaganda, which is a lie. We have not thought out these problems for ourselves, because most of us want to be led. We don't want to think and find out, because to think is very painful, very disillusioning. Either we think and become disillusioned and cynical - or we think and go beyond. When you go beyond and above all thought process, then there is freedom. And in that there is joy, in that there is creative being, which a righteous man, an isolated man, can never understand. Question: My mind is restless and distressed. Without getting it under control, I can do nothing about myself. How am I to control thought? Krishnamurti: Sir this is an enormous problem; and, as with all other problems of life, we will not find a method for its solution. But we will try to understand the problem itself, and out of that understanding we shall know how to deal with the question. First, we must understand thought, which the thinker wants to control. I hope this is not too serious a subject. What do we mean by thought? What do we mean by thinking? And, is the thinker separate from his thought? Is the meditator different from his meditation? Is the observer different, separate from the observed? Is the quality different from the self? So, before thought can be controlled, whatever that may mean, we must understand the process of thinking and who it is that thinks, and find out whether these are two separate processes, or one unitary process. Does the thinker exist when he ceases to think? When there are no thoughts, is there a thinker? Obviously, if you have no thoughts, there is no thinker. And why is there the separation between the thinker and the thought? With most of us, there is this separation. Why is there this separation? Is it factual, is it true, or merely a fictitious thing which the mind has created? We must be very clear on this point, because then we shall enquire into what the thought process is. First, we must be very clear as to whether the thinker is separate, and why he has separated himself from his thoughts. Then we shall go into the problem of thinking and controlling, and all the rest of it. Arn't you under the belief that your thoughts are separate from yourself? This very question implies that, doesn't it? - that there is the controller and the controlled, the observer and the observed. Now, do we know this process to be a fact, that there is the observer and the observed, the controller and the controlled? Is this separation real? It is real in the sense that we are indulging in it. But is it not a trick of the mind? Please, in this question a great deal is involved, so don't accept or deny, don't defend or put aside what I am suggesting. Most of you believe that the thinker is separate, the higher self, the Atman, the watcher, dominating the lower self, and so on. Why is there this separation? Isn't this separation still within the field of the mind? When you say the thinker is the Atman, the watcher, and the thoughts are separate, surely that is still within the field of the mind. Now, is it not that the mind, the thinker, has separated himself from his thoughts in order to give himself permanency? Because he can always modify his thoughts, he can always change his thoughts, put a new frame around them, while he remains apart and therefore gives himself permanency. But without the thoughts, the thinker is not. He may separate himself from his thoughts, but if he ceases to think, he no longer exists, does he? So, this separation of the thinker from his thoughts is a trick of the thinker to give himself security, permanency. That is, the mind perceives that thoughts are transient, and therefore it adopts the cunning trick of saying that it is the thinker apart from its thoughts, it is the Atman, the watcher, apart from action, from thought. But, if you observe the process very closely, putting aside all your acquired knowledge of what others have said, however great, then you will see that the observer is the observed, that the thinker is the thought. There is no thinker apart from thought; however widely, deeply and extensively he may separate himself or build a wall between himself and his thoughts, the thinker is still within the field of his thinking. Therefore, the thinker is the thought; so when you ask, `How can thought be controlled?', you are putting a wrong question. When the thinker begins to control his thoughts, he does so merely to give himself continuity, or because he finds his thoughts are painful to him. Therefore, he wants to modify his thoughts, while he remains permanent behind the screen of words and thoughts. When once you admit that, which is true, then your disciplines, your pursuit of the higher, your meditations, your controls, all collapse. That is, if you are willing to look at the obvious fact that the thinker is the thought, and when you become fully aware of that fact, then you no longer think in terms of dominating, modifying, controlling, or canalizing your thoughts. Then the thought becomes important, and not the thinker. The emphasis then is not on the controller and how to control, but the thought which is controlled becomes important in itself. Understanding the thought process is the beginning of meditation, which is self-knowledge. Without self-knowledge, there is no meditation; and meditation of the heart is understanding. To understand, you cannot be tethered to any belief. So, we are now concerned, not with controlling thought, which is a false question, but with the understanding of thought; we are concerned with the thought process itself. Therefore, we are free of the idea of discipline, of the idea of control - which is an extraordinary revolution, isn't it? You can be free only when you see the truth of the falseness of the belief that the thinker is separate from his thoughts. That is, when you see the truth about the false, then there is freedom from the false. We have for a long period accepted the idea that the thinker is separate from his thoughts; and now we see that the separation is false. Therefore, seeing the truth about the false, you are free of the false, with all its implications - disciplining, controlling, guiding, canalizing thought, putting thought into a definite pattern of action. When you do all that, you are still concerned with the thinker; therefore the thinker and the thought will remain separate, which is a false thing. But when you see the falseness of all that, it drops away from you, and there is only thought left. Then you can enquire into thought, then the mind is merely the machine of the thought process, and the thinker is not apart from the thought. Now, the mind is the recorder, the experiencer, and therefore the mind is memory, sensuous memory; because the mind is the result of the senses. So, thought which is the product of the mind, is sensuous; obviously, thought is the result of sensation. Mind is the recorder, the accumulating factor, the consciousness which is experiencing naming, and recording. That is, the mind experiences, then names the experience as pleasant or unpleasant, and then records it, puts it in the pigeon-hole which is memory. That memory responds to a new challenge. Challenge is always new, and memory, which is merely a record of the past, meets the new. This meeting of the new by the old is called experiencing. Now, memory has no life in itself. It has life, it is revivified, only in meeting the new. Therefore, the new is always giving life to the old. That is, when memory meets the challenge, which is always new, it derives life, it strengthens itself from that experience. Examine your own memory and you will see that it has no vitality in itself; but when memory meets the new and translates the new according to its own conditioning, then it is revivified. So, memory has life only as it meets the new, always revivifying, always strengthening itself. This revivification of memory is called thinking. Please, it is very important to understand all this, but I don't know how much you want to go into it. So, thinking is always a conditioned response, thinking is a process of response to a challenge. The challenge is always new; but thinking, which is a response derived from memory, is always the old revivified. It is very important to understand this. Thinking can never be new, because thinking is the response of memory, and this response of memory becomes vital when it meets the new and derives life from the new. But thinking in itself is never new. Therefore, thinking can never be creative, because it is always the response of memory. Now, our minds, our thoughts, are wandering all over the place, and we want to bring about order. As I have explained, this cannot be done by control; because, the moment you control it, your mind becomes exclusive, isolated. If you merely emphasize one thought and exclude all others, there is an isolating process going on. Therefore, such a mind can never be free. It can isolate itself, but isolation is not freedom. A controlled mind is not a free mind. So, our problem is that our thoughts wander all over the place, and naturally we want to bring about order; but how is order to be brought about? Now, to understand a fast evolving machine, you must slow it down, must you not? If you want to understand a dynamo, it must be slowed down and studied; but if you stop it, it is a dead thing, and a dead thing can never be understood. Only a living thing can be understood. So, a mind that has killed thoughts by exclusion, by isolation, can have no understanding; but the mind can understand thought if the thought process is slowed down. If you have seen a slow motion picture, you will understand the marvellous movement of a horse's muscles as it jumps. There is beauty in that slow movement of the muscles; but as the horse jumps hurriedly, as the movement is quickly over, that beauty is lost. Similarly, when the mind moves slowly because it wants to understand each thought as it arises, then there is freedom from thinking, freedom from controlled, disciplined thought. Thinking is the response of memory, therefore thinking can never be creative. Only in meeting the new as the new, the fresh as the fresh, is there creative being. The mind is the recorder, the gatherer of memories; and as long as memory is being revivified by challenge, the thought process must go on. But if each thought is observed, felt out, gone into fully, and completely understood, then you will find that memory begins to wither away. We are talking about psychological memory, not factual memory. Thought, which is the response of memory, arises only when an experience has not been completely understood, and therefore leaves a residue. When you understand an experience completely, it leaves no memory, no psychological residue. Thought is the response of the residue, which is memory; and if you can complete a thought, think it out, feel it out to its fullest extent, then its residue is done away with. To fully think out a thought, a feeling, is very arduous; because when you begin to think out one thought, other thoughts creep in. So, you go round, pursuing one thought after another hopelessly, because of the rapidity of each thought. But if you are interested to think out one thought fully, experiment with writing out the thoughts that arise; just put them down on paper, and then observe what you have written. In that observation, your mind is slowed, because to study, it has to slow down - which is not a compulsion, not a discipline. When you write down only a few of your thoughts and observe them, study them, your mind is immediately slowed. Watch your own mind now as you listen, see what it is doing. It is moving very slowly. You have not innumerable thoughts, you are merely pursuing one thought, which I am explaining. Therefore, your mind is slowed down, and being slowed down, it is capable of pursuing one thought to the end. When all thought is pursued to the end and the mind denuded of memory, the mind becomes tranquil, it has no problem. Why? Because the creator of the problem, which is memory, ceases; and in that tranquillity, which is absolute, reality comes into being. This whole process, which we have discovered this evening with regard to this particular question, is meditation. Meditation is self-knowledge, which is the basis of true thinking; and when there is true thinking, there is understanding, and so right action. But meditation becomes imitative, it has no meaning, when the thinker is not understood. When the thinker separates himself from his thoughts and seeks to control them, he is progressing towards illusion; whereas, seeing the truth in the false liberates you from the false. Then there is only thought left and in understanding thought fully, there comes tranquillity. In that tranquillity, there is creation; that is, when the mind ceases to create, there is a creation which is beyond time, which is immeasurable, which is the real. March 7, 1948 BOMBAY 9TH PUBLIC TALK 13TH MARCH, 1948 (Although open to all, today's meeting was convened especially for the benefit of educationists and teachers. It was presided over by a member of the New Education Fellowship, who welcomed Krishnamurti on behalf of his institution and thanked him for doing them the honour to attend. He then requested him to give them the benefit of his advice in the matter of education.) Krishnamurti: Mr. Chairman and friends: I have been sent many questions, and I propose to answer as many of them as possible this evening. All these questions have been rewritten, but their substance has been kept. Some questions were repeated, and we thought it would be better to combine and rewrite them, and there are about 15 or 16 questions here. But before I answer them, I would like to say something. Throughout the world, it is becoming more and more evident that the educator needs educating. It is not a question of educating the child, but rather the educator, for he needs it much more than the pupil. After all, the pupil is like a tender plant that needs guiding, helping; but if the helper is himself incapable, narrow, bigoted, nationalistic and all the rest of it, naturally his product will be what he is. So, it seems to me that the important thing is not so much the technique of what to teach, which is secondary; but what is of primary importance is the intelligence of the educator himself. You know that, throughout the world, education has failed, because it has produced the two most colossal and destructive wars in history; and since it has failed, merely to substitute one system for another seems to me to be utterly futile. Whereas, if there is a possibility of changing the thought, the feeling, the attitude of the teacher, then perhaps there can be a new culture, a new civilization. Because, it is obvious that this civilization is likely to be destroyed completely; the coming war will probably settle Western civilization as we know it. Per- haps we shall be profoundly affected by it in this country also. But in the midst of all this chaos, misery, confusion and strife, surely the responsibility of the teacher, whether he is a government employee, whether he is a religious teacher or a teacher of mere information, is extraordinarily great; and those who merely fatten on education as a means of livelihood seem to me to have no place in the modern structure of society if a new order is to be created. So, our problem is not so much the child, the boy or the girl, but the teacher, the educator, who needs educating much more than the pupil. And to educate the educator is far more difficult than to educate the child, because the educator is already set, fixed. He merely functions in a routine, because he is really not concerned with the thought process, with the cultivation of intelligence. He is merely imparting information; and a man who merely imparts information when the whole world is crashing about his ears, is surely not an educator. And do you mean to say that education is a means of livelihood? To regard it as a means of livelihood, to exploit the children for one's own good, seems to me so contrary to the real purpose of education. So, in answering all these questions, the principal point is the educator, and not the child. You can provide the right environment, the necessary tools, and all the rest of it; but what is important is for the educator himself to find out what all this existence means. Why are we living, why are we striving, why are we educating, why are there wars, why is there communal strife between man and man? To study this whole problem, and to bring our intelligence into operation, is surely the function of a real teacher. The teacher who does not demand anything for himself, who does not use teaching as a means of acquiring position, power, authority; the teacher who is really teaching, not for profit, not along a certain line, but who is giving, growing, awakening intelligence in the child because he is cultivating intelligence in himself - surely such a teacher has the primary place in civilization. Because, after all, all great civilizations have been founded on the teachers, not on engineers and technicians. The engineers and technicians are absolutely necessary, but those who awaken the moral, the ethical intelligence, are obviously of primary importance; and they can have moral integrity, freedom from the desire for power, position, authority, only when they don't ask anything for themselves, when they are beyond and above society and are not under the control of governments; and when they are free from the compulsion of social action, which is always action according to a pattern. So, a teacher must be beyond the limits of society and its demands, so as to be able to create a new culture, a new structure, a new civilization. But at present we are merely concerned with the technique of how to educate a boy or girl, without cultivating the intelligence of the teacher - which seems to me so utterly futile. We are now mostly concerned with learning a technique and imparting that technique to the child, and not with the cultivation of intelligence which will help him to deal with the problems of life. So, when I answer these questions, I hope you will bear with me if I don't go into any particular detail, but deal primarily, not with technique, but with the right approach to the problem. Question: What part can education play in the present world crisis? Krishnamurti: First of all, to understand what part education can play in the present world crisis, we must understand how the crisis has come into being. Without understanding that, merely to build on the same values, on the same ground, on the same foundation, will bring about further wars, further disasters. So, we must first investigate how the present crisis has come into being, and in understanding the causes we will inevitably understand what kind of education we need. Obviously, the present crisis is the result of wrong values -wrong values in man's relationship to property, to people, and to ideas. The expansion and predominance of sensate values necessarily creates the poison of nationalism, economic frontiers, sovereign governments and the patriotic spirit, all of which excludes man's cooperation with man for the benefit of man, and corrupts his relationship with people, which is society. And if the individual's relationship with others is wrong, the structure of society is bound to collapse. Similarly, in his relationship to ideas, man justifies an ideology - whether of the left or of the right, whether the means employed are right or wrong - in order to achieve an end. So, mutual distrust, lack of goodwill, the belief that a right end can be achieved by wrong means, the sacrificing of the present for a future ideal - all these are obviously causes of the present disaster. One cannot take time to go into all the details, but one can see at a glance how this chaos, this degradation, has come into being. Surely, it all arises from wrong values and from dependence on authority, on leaders, whether in daily life, in the small school, or the big university. Leaders and authority are deteriorating factors in any culture. The moment you depend on another, there is no self-dependence, and where there is no self-dependence, obviously there must be conformity, eventually leading to the dictatorship of totalitarian states. So, realizing all these things, realizing the causes of war, of this present catastrophe, of the present moral and social crisis, seeing both the causes and the results, naturally one begins to perceive that the function of education is to create new values, not merely to implant existing values in the mind of the pupil, which merely conditions him without awakening his intelligence. But when the educator himself has not seen the causes of the present chaos, how can he create new values, how can he awaken intelligence, how can he prevent the coming generation from following in the same steps leading ultimately to still further disaster? Surely, then, it is important for the educator, not merely to implant certain ideals and convey mere information, but to give all his thought, all his care, all his affection, to creating the right environment, the right atmosphere, so that when the child grows up into maturity he is capable of dealing with any human problem that confronts him. So, education is intimately related to the present world crisis; and all the educators, at least in Europe and America, are realizing that the crisis is the outcome of wrong education. Education can be transformed only by educating the educator, and not merely creating a new pattern, a new system of action. Question: Have ideals any place in education? Krishnamurti: Certainly not. Ideals and the idealist in education prevent the comprehension of the present. This is an enormous problem, and we are going to try to deal with it in 5 or 10 minutes. It is a problem upon which our whole structure is based. That is, we have ideals, and according to those ideals we educate. Now, are ideals necessary for education? Don't ideals actually prevent right education, which is the understanding of the child as he is and not as he should be? If I want to understand a child, I must not have an ideal of what he should be. To understand him, I must study him as he is. But to put him into the framework of an ideal is merely to force him to follow a certain pattern, whether it suits him or not; and the result is that he is always in contradiction to the ideal, or else he so conforms himself to the ideal that he ceases to be a human being and acts as a mere automaton without intelligence. So, is not an ideal an actual hindrance to the understanding of the child? If you as a parent really want to understand your child, do you look at him through the screen of an ideal? Or do you simply study him, because you have love in your heart? You observe him, you watch his moods, his idiosyncrasies. Because there is love, you study him. It is only when you have no love that you have an ideal. Watch yourself and you will notice this. When there is no love, you have these enormous examples and ideals, through which you are forcing, compelling the child. But when you have love, you study him, you observe him and give him freedom to be what he is; you guide and help him, not to the ideal, not according to a certain pattern of action, but to bring him to be what he is. In this question there arises the problem of the so-called bad boy - if I may use that word to define quickly and strongly a certain point. To change him into not being bad, surely you don't have to have an ideal. If a boy is a liar, you don't have to give him the ideal of truth. You study why he is telling lies. There may be various reasons - probably he is frightened, or is avoiding something. We need not go into the various reasons for lying. But obviously, when a child lies, to make him conform to a pattern of truth, which is your ideal, does not help him to free himself from the causes of lying. You have to study him, you have to observe him, and to do that takes a long time; it demands patience, care, love; and because you have not got it, you force him into a pattern of action which you call an ideal. Obviously, an ideal is a very cheap escape. The school which has ideals, or the teacher who follows ideals is obviously incapable of dealing with a child. You don't have to accept automatically what I am saying, or deny it. Just observe. After all, the function of education is to turn out an integrated individual who is capable of dealing with life intelligently, wholly - not partially, not as a technician or an idealist. But the individual cannot be integrated if he is merely pursuing an idealistic pattern of action. Obviously, Sirs and Ladies, the teachers who become idealists, who are pursuing a pattern of action, the so-called ideal, are pretty useless. If you observe you will see that they are incapable of love, they have hard hearts and dry minds. Because, it demands much greater observation, greater affection, to study, to observe the child, than to force him into an idealistic pattern of action. And I think that mere examples, which are another form of the ideal, are also a deterrent to intelligence. Probably what I am saying is contrary to all that you believe. You will have to think it over, because this is not a matter of denial or acceptance. One has to go into it very, very carefully. I am not being dogmatic; but as there are many questions, I have to be very brief and concise. The implications of an ideal are obvious. When the teacher is pursuing an ideal, he is incapable of understanding the child, because then the future, the ideal, is far more important than the child, the present. He has a certain end in view which he thinks is right, and he is forcing the child to conform to that ideal. Surely, that is not education, is it? That is like turning out motor cars. You have the pattern, and you put the child through the mould, with the result that you create human beings who are mere technicians, who have no human relationship with others, but are out for themselves, for their own gain, politically, socially, or in the family. Obviously, it is much easier to follow an ideal than to observe, to take care, to awaken love for the children and humanity. And that is one of the calamities of modern education: the so-called ideal, the end in view, whether it is an ideology of the extreme left or of the right, has become a pattern of action, and has brought about this present world catastrophe. Question: Is education in creativeness possible, or is creativeness purely accidental, and therefore nothing can be done to facilitate its emergence? Krishnamurti: The question is, to put it differently, whether by learning a technique, you will be creative? That is, by practicing, say, the piano, the violin, by learning the technique of painting, will you be a musician, will you be an artist? Does creativeness come into being through technique, or is creativeness independent of technique? You may go to a school and learn all there is to know about painting, about the depth of colour, the technique of how to hold the brush, and all the rest of it; but will that make you a creative painter? Whereas, if you are creative, then anything that you do will have its own technique. I went once to see a great artist in Paris. He had not learned a technique. He wanted to say something, and he said it in clay and then in marble. Most of us learn the technique, but have very little to say. We neglect, we overlook the capacity to find out for ourselves; we have all the instruments of discovery, without finding anything directly. So, the problem is, how to be creative, which brings its own technique. Then, when you want to write a poem, what happens? You write it; and if you have a technique, so much the better. But if you have no technique, it does not matter - you write the poem, and the delight is in the writing. After all, when you write a love letter, you are not bothered about the technique; you write it with all your being. But when there is no love in your heart, you search out a technique, how to put words together. Sirs, if you do not love, you miss the point. You think you will be able to live happily, creatively, by learning a technique, and it is the technique that is destroying creativeness - which does not mean that you must not have a technique. After all, when you want to write a poem beautifully, you must know the meter, the rhythm, and all the rest of it. But if you want to write it for yourself and not publish it, then it does not matter. You write. It is only when you want to communicate something to another that proper technique is necessary, the right technique, so that there will be no misunderstanding. But surely, to be creative is quite a different problem, and that demands an extraordinary investigation into oneself. It is not a question of gift. Talent is not creativeness. One can be creative without having a talent. So, what do we mean by creativeness? Surely, a state of being in which conflict has completely ceased, a state of being in which there is no problem, no contradiction. Contradiction, problem, conflict, are the result of too much emphasis put on the `I', the `mine' - `my success', `my family', `my country'. When that is absent, then thought itself ceases, and there is a state of being in which creativeness can take place. That is, to put it differently, when the mind ceases to create, there is creation. One of the causes of problems is your belief, your greed, and so on; and the mind creates as long as it has a problem, as long as it is the originator of problems. A mind that is chained to a problem, that is tethered to the creation of its own problem, can never be free. Only when the mind is free from creating its own problems, can there be creation. Sir, to go into it fully and really deeply, one has to go into the whole problem of consciousness; and I say that everyone of us can be creative in the right sense of the word, not merely producing poems and statues, or procreating children. Surely, to be creative means to be in that state in which truth can come into being; and truth can come into being only when there is a complete cessation of the thought process. When the mind is utterly still, without being compelled, forced into a certain pattern of action; when the mind is still because it understands all the problems as they arise and therefore no longer has any problem; when the mind is really quiet, not compelled; then in that state, truth can come into being. That state is creation, and creation is not for the few; it is not the talent of the few or the gift of the few; but that creative state can be discovered by each one who gives his mind and heart to search out the problem. Question: Is not the imparting of sex experience a necessary part of education? Is it not the only rational solution to the troubles of adolescence? Krishnamurti: Sir, to understand sex demands intelligence, not the ideal of something or other; and it is an extremely difficult subject, like every other human problem. If the educator himself has not understood that problem, how can he educate somebody else? If he is himself caught in the net, in the turmoil, in the extraordinarily complex problem of sex, how can he teach another? And why is it a problem to him? Obviously, because he himself is uncreative. Then sex becomes a mere tool of pleasure, an experience which gives momentary joy, momentary absence of self; and therefore it becomes a problem. Whereas, to be free from it, one has to investigate the various hindrances that are preventing creativeness. Obviously, one of the factors is imitation, the social compulsion to be something in society. Following an ideal is obviously a form of compulsion, a form of imitation; therefore, there is no creative thinking. After all, when you are thinking really creatively, when you have strong feeling, sex is of very little importance. It is only when you are not alert to the whole significance of existence, to the movement of the birds, to the trees, to smiles, to the joy of living, whether you are rich or poor - only then sex becomes a problem. There are other things involved in this question. Can the significance of the sexual experience be imparted to an adolescent child? Naturally, he is curious, he wants to know what it is all about. Again, it depends on the teacher or the parents. Generally, they are so ashamed of it themselves, they are so shy, the whole thing becomes absurd. They have such dirty minds. Sirs, you should watch yourselves, how you look at people, how you look at men and women. And you think you are capable of telling adolescent children what it is all about! And there is another problem: Our whole emphasis is laid on sensate values, the values of the senses, in which the radio, the cinema and magazines, play an important part. pick up any magazine or newspaper; all the advertisements are attracting you, creating sensation. So, on the one side, you encourage sensation, sex, sensuality; and on the other, you say, `You must not, you must become holy, you must follow the ideal of celibacy', It is all nonsense. You create contradiction in the mind, and in that state of contradiction you are incapable of understanding anything. Whereas, if you yourself approach the problem directly, as an obvious biological thing, without all the imputations, all the traditions, all the ugliness behind it, then you can be helpful by your own understanding of it. As I explained in the previous question, creation is not the mere sexual act, but creation is far more significant, profound; and there can be creation only when the mind is not consumed with its own gratification. Sirs, when one loves, love is chaste; and when there is no love, sex becomes a problem, it becomes an ugly habit. So, our difficulty in all these questions is that we ourselves, the educators, have become so dull, so weary. Life has been too much for us. We want to be comforted, we want to be loved. So, being insufficient, being poor in ourselves, how can we, who are the educators, give right education? Obviously, as I said, the problem is first the teacher, the educator, and not merely the education of the pupil. Sirs, our own hearts and minds must be cleansed, to be really capable of educating others. You may say that this is very goody stuff, without any practical information; but if the instrument that is teaching is itself crooked, how can it impart right information, right knowledge, right wisdom, right understanding? Question: Is not State education a calamity? If it is, how to raise funds for schools which are not controlled by the government? Krishnamurti: Obviously, State education is a calamity - with which governments won't agree. They don't want people to think, they want people to be automatons, because then they can be told what to do. So, our education, especially in the hands of governments, is becoming more and more a means of teaching what to think and not how to think; because, if you were to think independently of the system you would be a danger. Therefore, it is a function of government, not to make you think, but to accept what is told you. So, as you see throughout the world, every government is stepping into education. Education and food have become the means of controlling man. And what do governments care, whether of the left or of the right as long as you are perfect machines to turn out merchandise and bullets? There are a few private schools in England and other places, but they are all being watched carefully, investigated, controlled, because government does not want free institutions which might turn out pacifists, people who think contrary to the regime, to the system. Right education is obviously a danger to government, so it is a function of government to see that is right education is not imparted. There are about 80,000 pacifists in England. If their numbers increase, are they not a danger to the government? Therefore, control people from childhood. Don't let them think in terms of non-war, non-country, non-systems, or a different ideology. This means government supervision, the control of education through the Educational Minister. Sirs, this is what is happening in the world, whether you like it or not; and it means that you, who are the citizens and who are responsible for government, don't want freedom. You don't want a new state of being, a new culture, a new structure of society. If you have something new it may be revolutionary, it may be destructive of what is; and because you want things as they are, you say, `Well, let there be a government which will control education'. You want a little modification here and there, but you don't want a revolution in thought; and the moment you want a revolution in thought, government steps in, puts you in prison, or liquidates you quickly behind doors, and you are forgotten. Sirs, a country becomes more and more organized, there is more and more authority and external compulsion, when man himself has no inward vision, inward light, understanding. Then he becomes a mere tool of the authorities, whether in a totalitarian state or in a so-called democracy. Because, in moments of crisis, the so-called democratic states become like the totalitarian, forgetting their democracy and making men conform to a pattern of action. Now, the second part of the question is, "How to raise funds for schools which are not controlled by the government?". Sir, surely that is not the problem, is it? The moment you have funds, you are ruined. Look at all the schools that start in the most idealistic way. Look at their headmasters. They grow fat on it. But you can start a little school round the corner of your street. I know several schools that have been started that way, and they are still working, because they were prepared, they have the enthusiasm, the feeling for it. One of our difficulties is that we want to transform the whole of mankind the day after tomorrow - or affect the masses, as you call it. Who are the masses, poor humanity? You and I. And if you feel deeply, if you really think about these problems, not just superficially for an afternoon to while away the time, then you will see that a right school is started somewhere, round the corner or in your own house; because then you are interested in your own children, and in the children about you. Then money will come, Sir, don't bother about money. Money is the least important thing. Leave money to the idealists, who want to start an ideal school. But if you and I are aware of the whole problem of human existence, what it means, why we live, why we suffer, why we go through all these tortures, if we really want to understand it and help the child to understand, then we will start a school without funds, without beating drums and collecting lakhs. Because, the moment you have money, what happens? Don't you know what happens, Sir? You have your own private resources, and you have to watch your money, who is using it, whether you, or your secretary, or the committee, and all the rubbish, the idiotic stuff begins. But if you have little money and real clarity of thought and feeling behind it, then you will create a school. And, in creating the school, obviously you will be opposed by the government, or will have the interference of the government. If you teach your children not to be nationalistic and not to salute the flag because nationalism is a factor which brings about war, if you teach them not to be communal, if you help them to understand this whole problem of existence, do you think governments are going to stand for it? If you really turn out revolutionaries, not in the sense of killing, but real revolutionaries in thought and feeling, do you think society will put up with it for a minute? So, Sirs, as parents and teachers, you are responsible, you have to find out whether you are merely complying with the dictates of government, whether you have merely learned a technique which gives you a certain capacity to earn money and are content to carry on the present social structure as it is; or whether you are concerned with right living and right means of livelihood. If you see that governments are built on violence and are the product of violence, and realize that through wrong means a right end cannot possibly be achieved; and if you are interested in really educating your children, obviously you will start a school anywhere - just round the corner, in your backyard, or in your own room. Because, Sirs, I don't think many of us realize to what an abyss, to what degradation, we have come. If there is a third war, that will be the end of things, You may escape; but your problem will be the fourth world war, because we have not solved this problem of man's antagonism to man. and you can solve it only through right means, which is right education - not through an ideal of non-war, but by understanding the causes of war which lie in our attitude toward life, our attitude toward our fellow-beings. Without a change of heart, without goodwill, mere organizations are not going to bring about peace - which is shown by the League of Nations and UNO. To rely on governments, to look to outward organizations for the transformation which must begin with each one of us, is to look in vain. What we have to do is to transform ourselves, which is to become aware of our own actions, thoughts and feelings in everyday life. So, don't bother about raising funds. You won't be bothered now, and for a few minutes, while you are pressed into a corner at this meeting, you may see the significance of all this. But afterwards you will slip back into your daily routine, you will go back to your teaching and professions, because you have to earn money. So, there will be very few who are serious. But it is those of you who are serious that will bring about a revolution in thought. Sir, revolution must begin in thought, not in blood; and if there is right revolution in thought, there will be no blood. But if there is no right thinking, no true thinking, there will be blood, more and more of it. The wrong means can never produce the right end, because the end is in the means. Question: What have you to say about military drill in education? Krishnamurti: It all depends on what you want the human being to be. If you want him to be efficient cannon fodder, then military drill is marvellous. If you want to discipline him, if you want to regiment his mind, his feelings, then military drill is a very good way to do it. If you want to condition him in a certain way and make him irresponsible to society, then military drill is a very good instrument. It all depends on what you want your son to be. Surely, Sir, if you want him to live, military drill is the wrong way to proceed; but if you like death, then military drill is excellent. And as modern civilization is seeking death, obviously the military with its generals, soldiers, lawyers, and all the rest of it, is considered very good. In that way you will have death, sure death. But if you want peace, if you want right relationship between man and man -whether he is Christian, Hindu, Mussulman or Buddhist, all these labels being barriers to right relationship - , then military education is an absolute hindrance. Sir. it is surely the function of a general to prepare for war, it is the function of a soldier to maintain war; and if life is meant to be a constant battle between yourself and your neighbour, then by all means have more generals. Then let us all become soldiers - which is what is happening. Conscription was fought in England for generations, while the rest of Europe was being conscripted; and now England has given in. England is part of the whole world structure, and it is an indication of what is happening. In this country, because it is so huge, conscription is not possible immediately; but it will come when you are all thoroughly organized. Then war, more wars, more bloodshed, more misery. Is that what we are living for - constant battle within ourselves and with others? Surely, Sir, to discover truth, reality, the bliss of the unknowable, there must be freedom, freedom from strife within yourself and with your neighbour. After all, when a man is not in strife within himself, then he does not create strife outwardly. The inward strife, projected outwardly, becomes the world chaos. After all, war is a spectacular result of our everyday living; and without a transformation in our daily existence, there is bound to be the multiplication of soldiers, drills, the saluting of flags and all the rubbish that goes with it, inevitably prolonging destruction, misery and chaos. I was told by an anthropologist that two or three thousand years ago a politician said, `I hope this will be the last war' - and we are still at it. I think we really want arms. We want all the fun of military instruments, the decorations, the uniforms, the salutes, the drinks, the murder. Because, our everyday life is that. We are destroying others through our greed, through our exploitation. The richer you get, the more exploiting you are. You like all this, and you also want to be rich. As long as the three professions of soldier, police, and lawyer, are dominant in society, civilization is doomed; and that is what is happening in India, as well as the world over. These three professions are becoming stronger and stronger. I don't think you know what is going on about you, and in yourself, what catastrophes you are preparing. All that you want to do is to live a day as rapidly and as stupidly and as distintegratingly as possible, and you leave to the governments, to the politicians, to the cunning people, the direction of your lives. So, it all depends on what you want life to be. If life is meant to be a series of conflicts, then military expansion is inevitable. If life is meant to be lived happily, with thought, with care, with affection, then the military, the soldier, the police, the lawyer, are a hindrance. But the lawyer, the police, and the military, are not going to give up their professions, any more than you are going to give up your exploiting ways, whether psychologically or outwardly. So, it is very important, Sir, to find out for yourself what is the purpose of living - not to learn it from somebody else, but to discover it for yourself, which means being aware of your daily actions, of your daily feelings and thoughts; and when you are fully aware, that awareness will reveal the true purpose. Question: What is the place of art in education? Krishnamurti: I don't quite know what you mean by art. Do you mean hanging pictures in your school room, or do you mean helping the child to draw a picture according to a pattern, because you have learnt a little technique? Or do you mean teaching the child to be sensitive - not to you as the teacher or to what you say, but sensitive to the miseries, to the confusions, to the sorrows of life? Do you want merely to teach him how to paint, or do you want him to be awake to the influence of beauty - not of any particular picture or statue, but beauty itself? Sir, in modern civilization, beauty is apparently only on the surface of the skin: how you dress, how you paint your face, how you comb your hair, how you walk. We are discussing art, whether beauty is on the surface, or whether it is a matter of love; whether it is outward, or understanding the inward process of thought. As our society is constructed, we are more concerned with the outward expression, with the looks, with the sari, than with that which is inward. It does not matter what you are within, but you must present a respectable appearance - put on rouge, lip-stick. It does not matter what you are inside. So, we are more concerned with technique than with living, with mere expression than with love. Therefore, we use outward things as a means of covering up our inner ugliness, our inward confusion. We listen to music to escape from our own sorrow. In other words, we become spectators, and not the players. To be creative, you must know yourself, and to know yourself is extremely difficult; but to learn a technique is comparatively easy. So, when you talk about art in education, I don't know exactly what you mean. Obviously, the outward environmental influences have their place; but when the outer is emphasized, the inner confusion is not understood, and so the inward understanding, the inward beauty, is denied; and without inward beauty, how can there be the outward expression of it? And to cultivate inward beauty, you must first be aware of the inward confusion, the inward ugliness, because beauty does not come into being by itself. To be sensitive to beauty, you must understand the ugly and the confused; and it is only when there is order out of confusion that there is beauty. Question: Whom would you call a perfect teacher? Krishnamurti: Obviously, not the teacher who has an ideal, nor he who is making a profit out of teaching, nor he who has built up an organization, nor he who is the instrument of the politician, nor he who is bound to a belief or to a country; but the perfect teacher, surely, is one who does not ask anything for himself, who is not caught up in politics, in power, in position. He does not ask anything for himself, because inwardly he is rich. His wisdom does not lie in books; his wisdom lies in experiencing, and experiencing is not possible if he is seeking an end. Experiencing is not possible to him for whom the result is far more important than the means; to him who wants to show that he has turned out so many pupils who have brilliantly passed exams, who have come out as first class M. A.s, B.A.s, or whatever it is. Obviously, as most of us want a result, we give scant thought to the means employed, and therefore we can never be perfect teachers. Surely, Sir, a teacher who is perfect must be beyond and above the control of society. He must teach and not be told what to teach, which means, he must have no position in society. He must have no authority in society, because the moment he has authority, he is part of society; and since society is always disintegrating, a teacher who is part of society can never be the perfect teacher. He must be out of it, which means, he cannot ask anything for himself; therefore, society must be so enlightened that it will supply his needs. But we don't want such an enlightened society, nor such teachers. If we had such teachers, then the present society would be in danger. Religion is not organized belief. Religion is the search for truth, which is of no country, which is of no organized belief, which does not lie in any temple, church, or mosque. Without the search for truth, no society can long exist; and while it exists, it is bound to bring about disaster. Surely, the teacher is not merely the giver of information, the teacher is one who points the way to wisdom; and he who points to wisdom is not the guru. Truth is far more important than the teacher. Therefore you, who are the seeker of truth, have to be both the pupil and the teacher. In other words, you have to be the perfect teacher to create a new society; and to bring the perfect teacher into being, you have to understand yourself. Wisdom begins with self-knowledge; and without self-knowledge, mere information leads to destruction. Without self-knowledge, the airplane becomes the most destructive instrument in life; but with self-knowledge, it is a means of human help. So, a teacher must obviously be one who is not within the clutches of society, who does not play power politics or seek position or authority. In himself he has discovered that which is eternal, and therefore he is capable of imparting that knowledge which will help another to discover his own means to enlightenment. Question: What is the place of discipline in education? Krishnamurti: I should say, none. Just a minute, I will explain it further. What is the purpose of discipline? What do you mean by discipline? You, being the teacher, when you discipline, what happens? You are forcing, compelling; there is compulsion, however nice, however kind, which means conformity, imitation, fear. But you will say, `How can a large school be run without discipline?'. It cannot. Therefore, large schools cease to be educational institutions. They are profitable institutions, for the boss or for the government, for the headmaster or the owner. Sir, if you love your child, do you discipline him? Do you compel him? Do you force him into a pattern of thought? You watch him, don't you? You try to understand him, you try to discover what are the motives, the urges, the drives, that are behind what he does; and by understanding him, you bring about the right environment, the right amount of sleep, the right food, the right amount of play. All that is implied, when you love a child; but we don't love children, because we have no love in our own hearts. We just breed children. And naturally, when you have many, you must discipline them, and discipline becomes an easy way out of the difficulty. After all, discipline means resistance. You create resistance against that which you are disciplining. Do you think resistance will bring about understanding, thought, affection? Discipline can only build walls about you. Discipline is always exclusive, whereas understanding is inclusive. Understanding comes when you investigate, when you enquire, when you search out, which requires care, consideration, thought, affection. In a large school, such things are not possible, but only in a small school. But small schools are not profitable to the private owner or to the government; and since you, who are responsible for the government, are not really interested in your children, what does it matter? If you loved your children, not just as toys, as playthings to amuse you for a little while and a nuisance afterwards, if you really loved them, would you allow all these things to go on? Wouldn't you want to know what they eat, where they sleep, what they do all day long; whether they are beaten, whether they are crushed, whether they are destroyed? But this would mean an enquiry, consideration for others, whether for your own child or your neighbour's; and you have no consideration, either for your children, or for your wife or husband. So, the matter lies in your hands, Sirs, not in the hands of any government or system. If all of us really cared for children, we would have a new society tomorrow; but we really do not care, and so we have no time. We have time for puja, we have time for earning money, we have time for clubs, we have time for amusements, but no time to give thought or care to the child. I am not being rhetorical. This is a fact, and you don't want to face the fact. Because, to face the fact means that you would have to give up your amusements and distractions; and do you mean to say you are going to give them up? Certainly not. So, you throw the children into the schools, and the teacher cares no more for them than you do. Why should he? He is there for his job, for his money, and so it goes on; and we come together for an evening to discuss education! It is really a marvellous world we have got. It is such a phoney super- ficial world, so ugly if you look behind the curtain; and we are decorating the curtain and hoping that everything will be right behind it. Sirs, I don't think you, the educators and the parents, realize how serious things are. The catastrophe that is going on in this country is obvious; but you don't want to strip it all bare and begin again, anew. You want to do patch-work reforms, and that is why all these questions arise. Sirs, you have to start anew, there can be no patch-work reform; because, the building is crumbling, the walls are giving way, there is a fire destroying it. You must leave the building and start anew in a different place, with different values, with different foundations. But those who are making a profit out of education, whether the State or the individual, will go on, because they do not see the destruction, the deterioration, the degradation. But those who really see the whole catastrophe, not just in a few spots, but the world over, have to strip themselves of everything and start anew. I don't mean stripping off the outward knowledge, the technical knowledge. I know it can never be stripped off; but you can strip yourselves inwardly, see yourselves as you are, your ugliness, your brutality, your ruthlessness, your deceptions, your dishonesty, your utter lack of love. Seeing all that, you can start anew, and become honest, clear, simple, direct. Surely, only then is there a possibility of a new world and a new order. Peace does not come through patchwork reform. Peace does not come through mere adjustment of things as they are. Peace comes only when we understand what is, beyond the superficial. Peace can come into being only when the wave of destruction, which is the wave of our own action, is stopped. Sirs, how can we have love? Not through the pursuit of the ideal of love, but only when there is no hatred, when there is no greed, when there is consideration, when there is generosity; but a man who is occupied with exploitation, with greed, with envy, can never know love. When there is love, systems become of very little importance. When there is love, there is care, there is consideration, not only for the children, but for every human being. March 13, 1948 BOMBAY 10TH PUBLIC TALK 14TH MARCH, 1948 I would like this afternoon to discuss the problem of action, which might be rather abstruse and difficult at the beginning, but I hope by thinking it over, we will be able to see the issue clearly. Because, our whole existence, our whole life, is a process of action. It is an action at different levels of consciousness. Please, I am afraid you will have to pay a little attention to this, because it is going to be extremely difficult if you do not follow it very closely, if your attention is distracted by those who are passing behind me. I shall not be distracted; but you will be, unfortunately, and therefore you will not be able to follow it and will miss its beauty; because, it is quite a difficult problem and needs very close attention. Most of us live in a series of actions, of seemingly unrelated, disjointed actions, leading to disintegration, to frustration. It is a problem that concerns each one of us, because we live by action; and without action, there is no life, there is no experience, there is no thinking. Thought is action; and merely to pursue action at one particular level of consciousness, which is the outer, merely to be caught up in outward action without understanding the whole process of action itself, will inevitably lead us to frustration, to misery. Therefore, if I may suggest, and though the problem is quite simple, one has to be a little concentrated - not with the concentration of exclusiveness, but with the interest which brings, not exclusion, but attention. That is what is needed: to be attentive with interest. Then you and I will go together; then I won't take the journey alone, and you won't become a mere spectator. And if we can take the journey together, it will be much more creative, much more interesting, more vital and significant, and therefore you will be able to follow it for yourself in daily action. So, our life is a series of actions, or a process of action at different levels of consciousness. Now, consciousness, as I explained the other day, is experiencing, naming, and recording. That is, consciousness is challenge and response, which is experiencing, then terming or naming, and then recording, which is memory. This process is action, is it not? Consciousness is action; and without challenge, response, without experiencing, naming or terming, and recording, which is memory, there is no action. Whether you are a big executive, a big business man, raking in money and piling up a bank account, or a writer, or just an ordinary man earning an ordinary livelihood, this is the process that is going on: experiencing, naming or terming, and recording; and this whole process is consciousness, which is action. Now, action creates the actor. That is, the actor comes into being when action has a result, an end in view, If there is no result in action, then the actor is not; but if there is an end or a result in view, then action brings about the actor. So, actor, action, and end or result, is a unitary process, a single process, which comes into being when action has an end in view. Action towards a result, is will. otherwise, there is no will, is there? The desire to achieve an end brings about will, which is the actor - I want to achieve, I want to write a book, I want to be a rich man, I want to paint a picture. Will is action with an end in view, a result to be gained, which brings about the actor, So, the actor or will, the action, and the end or result, is one process. Though we can break it up and observe these factors separately, it is a total, unitary process. Now, we are familiar with these three states: the actor, the action, and the end. That is our daily existence. I am just explaining what is; but we will begin to understand how to transform what is, only when we examine it clearly, so that there is no illusion, prejudice, no bias with regard to it. Now, these three states, which constitute experience - the actor, the action, and the result - , these three states, surely, are a process of becoming. Otherwise, there is no becoming, is there? If there is no actor, and if there is no action toward an end, there is no becoming; but life as we know it, our daily life, is a process of becoming. I am poor, and I act with an end in view, which is to become rich. I am ugly, and I want to become beautiful. Therefore, my life is a process of becoming something. The will to be is the will to become, at different levels of consciousness, in different states, in which there is challenge, response, naming, and recording. Now, this becoming is strife, this becoming is pain, is it not? It is a constant struggle: I am this, and I want to become that. The becoming is a constant battle - the rich man competing with the richer to maintain his position, the poor man trying to become rich, the artist trying to achieve a result, write a book or a poem, paint a picture. There is always an end in view, a result to be achieved, and in that process of becoming there is a ceaseless battle, a strife, a pain. With that we are familiar - I have not described anything other than what is. So, then, the problem is: Is there not action without this becoming? That is, is there not action without this pain, without this constant battle? If there is no end, there is no actor, because action with an end in view creates the actor. But can there be action without an end in view, and therefore no actor? Because, the moment there is action with the desire for a result, there is the actor, and therefore the actor is always becoming; therefore the actor is the source of strife, pain, misery. And, to eliminate that strife, can there be action without the actor, that is, without the desire for a result? Only such action is not a becoming, and therefore not a strife. There is a state of action, a state of experiencing without the experiencer and the experience. This sounds rather philosophical, but it is really quite simple. We know that in our daily actions, in our everyday life, there is always the actor or experiencer, the process of experiencing, and the experience; the actor is acting in order to achieve an end, and I know that that process always produces strife, because I live in strife with my wife, with my husband, with my neighbours, with my boss. I know the life of strife and conflict, and I want to eliminate conflict, because I recognize that conflict does not lead anywhere. It is only creative happiness that brings about a revolutionary state. So, to find action without strife, there must be no actor; and there is no actor only when there is no end in view. Can I live in a state of experiencing all the time, without the desire for a result? That is the only way to solve this problem, is it not? As long as action has an end in view, there must be the actor, the experiencer, the observer, and therefore a process of becoming which creates strife, and therefore a state of contradiction. Can one live in action without a state of contradiction? There can be freedom from contradiction only when there is no actor and no end to be achieved, which means a state of constant experiencing without the object of experience, and therefore without the experiencer. Now, we live in that state when the experiencing in itself is intense. Take, for example, any intense experience that you have. In the moment of experiencing, you are not aware of yourself as the experiencer apart from the experience; you are in a state of experiencing. Take a very simple example: you are angry. In that moment of anger, there is neither the experiencer nor the experience; there is only experiencing. But the moment you come out of it, a split second after the experiencing, there is the experiencer and the experience, the actor and the action with an end in view - which is to get rid of or to suppress the anger. So, we are in this state repeatedly, in the state of experiencing; but we always come out of it and give it a term, naming and recording it, and thereby giving continuity to becoming. Now, the problem is, how can there be freedom from conflict in action? As I said, only when experiencing is lived completely, wholly, all the time. You can live completely, wholly, only when there is no terming, when there is no naming, and therefore no recording, which is memory. Memory is the recorder of the outcome of action with an end in view. Sir, when you have an experience and you are in that moment of experiencing, if you don't term it, f you don't give it a name and therefore record it, put it in the frame of reference which is memory, then that experiencing is joy, that experiencing is creation. Experiment with what I have said. It is very simple. We know the first process, which is action seeking an end, a result, and bringing into being the actor. The actor, or action with an end in view, is the process of becoming, and this process is constant strife, constant pain. With that we are familiar. To be in strife is essentially a state of contradiction, and in a state of contradiction there can never be the capacity to live fully, because there must always be a struggle, there must always be pain, To be free of pain, there can be only one state, that of experiencing - which is action without the actor, and without a result, an end in view. It is not as crazy as it sounds. If you observe very closely, you will see that, in moments of great ecstasy, you do live in that state of experiencing, without the actor or experiencer, and the object of experience. Most of us have known that state of experiencing; and having known it, we want to continue it, and thereby we give birth again to becoming. That is, we want a result, which is action with an end in view; and therefore we strengthen the framework of reference, which is memory. So, to bring about a state of constant experiencing, which is really extraordinarily revolutionary, we must be aware of this process of action which is always seeking an end, a result, and therefore giving birth to the actor. We must be fully aware of that process; and when we are aware of that and see the truth, the significance, the pain of it, then in that passive awareness we will know the state of experiencing in which there is neither the experiencer nor the experience. I have about eight questions, and it has been suggested that I answer them briefly, not at length; because, when I answer a question at length, it becomes a lecture, and many of us cannot keep a sustained thought for a long period of time. If I answer each question briefly, perhaps you will be able to grasp it better. So, I am going to try this evening to answer as many of these questions as possible, and see what the result is. Question: What is the relation between the thinker and his thought? Krishnamurti: Now, is there any such relation, or is there only one thing, which is thought, and not the thinker? Because, if there are no thoughts, there is no thinker. When you are thinking, when you have thoughts, is there a thinker? If you have no thoughts at all, where is the thinker? Now, having thoughts, seeing the impermanency of thoughts, the thinker comes into being. That is, thought creates the thinker; and because thoughts are transient, the thinker becomes the permanent entity. There is first the process of thought, and then thought creates the thinker, obviously. The thinker then establishes himself as a permanent entity, apart from thoughts. That is, thoughts are transient, they are always in a state of flux, and thought objects to its own impermanency; therefore, thought creates the thinker. It is not the other way round, the thinker does not create thought, If you have no thoughts, there is no thinker; so it is thought that creates the thinker. Then we try to establish a relationship between the thinker, and the thought which has created him. That is, we try to establish a relationship between that which seeks to be permanent, which is the thinker created by thought, and the thought itself, which is transient. But obviously both are transient, Since thought, which is transient, creates the thinker, and though the thinker may imagine himself to be permanent, he also is transient; because the thinker is the outcome of thought. This is not a conundrum. It is an obvious fact. Pursue a thought completely, go through with it to the end, think it out fully, and you will see what happens. You will find that there is no thinker at all, because it is the thought which creates the thinker. Therefore, there are not two states as the thinker and the thought. The thinker is a fictitious entity, an unreal state. There is only thought; and the bundle of thoughts creates the 'I', the thinker. And the thinker, having given himself permanency, tries to transform thought and thereby maintain himself, which is false; and if you can think out every thought fully, completely, that is, let each thought go right through to the end without resistance, then you will see there is no thinker at all. Therefore, the mind becomes extraordinarily pliable, quiet. And that quiet, that tranquillity, is the state of experiencing. As there is neither the actor nor the end in view, neither the experiencer nor the experience, it is a state of experiencing, which is pure action. Try this and you will see that thought is constantly giving birth to further thought, and therefore maintaining the thinker. But when there is no thinker - which there is not, only a thought process - , that is, when the thought process is completely understood, in that passive awareness when every thought is allowed full scope, full depth, then there is freedom from all thought; and in that freedom, there is experiencing. Question: I would like to help you by doing propaganda for your teachings. Can you advise the best way? Krishnamurti: To be a propagandist is to be a liar. (Laughter.) Don't laugh, Sirs. Because, propaganda is merely repetition, and repetition of a truth is a lie. When you repeat what you consider to be the truth, then it ceases to be the truth. Say, for instance, you repeat the truth concerning man's relationship to property, the truth which you have not discovered for yourself; what value has it? Repetition has no value; it merely dulls the mind, and you can only repeat a lie. You cannot repeat truth, because truth is never constant. Truth is a state of experiencing, and what you can repeat is a static state; therefore it is not the truth. Please do see the importance of this. We are so used to being propagandists, to reading newspapers, to telling others about everything. The propagandist is a mere repeater, not a teller of truth; therefore, propaganda does infinite damage in the world. The lecturer who goes out doing propaganda for an idea is really a destroyer of thought, because he just repeats his own or somebody else's experience. But truth cannot be repeated, truth must be experienced from moment to moment by each one. Now, with that understanding, what can you do to help this teaching, to further this teaching? All that you can do is to live it; however little you understand, however tiny a part, live it completely - not superficially, but deeply, fully, as vitally, as intrinsically, as enthusiastically as possible. Then, like a flower in a garden, that very living spreads its perfume. You don't have to do propaganda for the jasmine. The jasmine itself does the propaganda; its beauty, its perfume, its loveliness, tells the story. When you have not that loveliness, that beauty, you do propaganda for it, but the moment you have understood a little, you talk about it, preach it, shout it; because of your own understanding, you help another to understand, and therefore understanding spreads more and more, it moves further and further afield. Surely, that is the only way to do what you call `propaganda' - which is an ugly word. Sir, how does a new thought spread, a living thought, not a dead thought? Surely, not through propaganda. Systems spread through propaganda, but not a living thought. A living thought is spread by a living person, one who lives that thought. Without living it, you cannot spread a living thought; but the moment you live it, you will see. It is like the bees coming to the flower. The flower need not do propaganda for its honey - the bees know it, they come because there is nectar. But without that nectar, to do propaganda is to deceive people, to exploit people, to cause division among people, to create envy and antagonism. But if there is that nectar of understanding, however little, then it spreads like fire. You know how honey is secured, how many journeys a bee makes from the beehive to the flower, how it collects honey a little at a time. Similarly, if there is nectar, if there is beauty, if there is understanding in our hearts, that itself will perform the miracle of completely revolutionizing the world. Understanding is instantaneous, not tomorrow, because there is no understanding tomorrow; there is understanding only today, now. Love is not in the future; you don't say, `I shall love you tomorrow'. You either love now, or never. Question: The fact of death stares everybody in the face, yet its mystery is never solved. Must it ever be so? Krishnamurti: Sir, this is an enormous problem, and we have to deal with it in a few minutes. Now, why is there fear of death? There is fear of death because we cling to continuity. I am writing a book, and I might die tomorrow without finishing it; I am accumulating money, and I might die without achieving what I want; I long to be something which I am not. So, there is fear of death. There is fear of death as long as there is a desire for continuity - continuity of action, continuity of character, continuity of achievement, continuity of faculty, continuity of a bank account, of a name, of a family. As long as there is the actor, which is action seeking a result, there must be continuity, and therefore fear that there will be no continuity; because, death may put an end to my writing a book, to my bank account, to the qualities, the various characteristics, which I have cultivated. All that is going to come to an end, therefore there is fear. So, there is fear of death as long as there is continuity. Now, what happens when there is this sense of continuity? We are not discussing whether there is continuity or not, but what the idea of continuity does to the mind. Have you ever noticed what happens to a thing that continues? Surely, that which continues is in a state of constant disintegration, is it not? If you have a problem that continues over a period of years, causing you constant worry, there is disintegration, is there not? Any form of continuity, however noble or ignoble, is a process of disintegration. If we see the truth of that - that any form of continuity is a process of disintegration - , then we see the truth about the false. Therefore, there is liberation from the false, which means that one is living constantly in the present, not in continuity; therefore, there is no longer the fear of death. It is only when the mind is caught in the net of continuity that there is the fear of death; and when the mind recognizes that anything that continues can never renew itself, then there is freedom from the fear of death. How can there be renewal when there is continuity? There can be renewal only when there is an ending, which means when there is death. I don't know if you have noticed that when you have brought an end to a problem, there is a renewal; but while the problem continues, there is decay. Is it not possible to live every day, every minute, seeing each thought through to the end, so that it is not continued? That means, is it not possible to live with death, dying from moment to moment? Then only is there renewal; because, only in ending is there renewal, not in continuity. Renewal and continuity are contradictions. In continuity there is no rebirth, no renewal, no creativeness, but only in ending. When one problem ends, a new problem may arise; but in the interval between two problems, there is renewal. Therefore, there is no fear of death. To put it differently, death is the state of non-continuity, which is the state of rebirth. Death is the unknown because it is an ending, in which there is renewal. But a mind which is continuous cannot know the unknown; it can only know the known, because it can only act and move in the known, which is the continuous. Therefore, the known, the continuous, is always in fear of the unknown, of death, in which alone there is renewal. In ending there is renewal, not in continuity. So, the unknown can never be known through the continuous. Therefore, death remains a mystery, because we are approaching it all the time through the known, through the continuous. If you can end this continuity from day to day, from moment to moment, you will see there is a renewal; there is death, in which there is renewal. Death, then, is not a thing to be feared; for in ending there is rebirth, and in continuity there is decay, there is disintegration. Think it out, Sirs, and you will see the beauty of it, the truth of it. It is not a theory, but a fact. That which has an ending, has a rebirth; that which is continuous can never know renewal. Death is the unknown, and that which is continuous is the known. The continuous can never know the unknown, and therefore it is afraid, mystified by the unknown. Immortality is not the `I' continued. The `I' is of time, it is the result of time. That which is immortal is beyond time. Therefore, there is no relationship between the `I', and the timeless. We like to think so, but that is another deception of the mind. That which is immortal cannot be encased in the mortal, it cannot be caught in the net of time. Only when the `I', which is continuity, time, comes to an end, is there that state which is imperishable, immortal. After all, we are frightened of death from force of habit, because desire seeks continuity in fulfilment. But fulfilment has no end, because fulfilment is constantly seeking other forms of fulfilment. Desire is constantly seeking further objects of fulfilment, and therefore gives birth to continuity, which is time. But if each desire is understood as it arises, and so comes to an end, then there is a renewal. It may be the renewal of a new desire - it doesn't matter. Go on finishing, give each desire an ending, and you will see that out of this ending from moment to moment there comes a renewal which is not the renewal of desire, but the renewal of truth. And truth is not continuous; truth is a state of being which is timeless. That state can be experienced only when each desire, which gives birth to continuity, is understood and thereby brought to an end. The known cannot know the unknown. The mind, which is the result of the known, of the past, which is founded upon the past, cannot know the immeasurable, the timeless. The mind, the thought process, must come to an end; then that which is the unknowable, the immeasurable, the eternal, comes into being. Question: I have plenty of money. Can you tell me what is the right use of money? Only don't ask me to squander it by distributing coppers to the poor. Money is a tool to work with, not just a nuisance to be got rid of. Krishnamurti: Sir, first, how do you have money? How do you ac- cumulate money? Obviously, through exploitation, through cruelty, through barbarity. In the modern world, in which man is out for himself, obviously he must be clever, cunning, dishonest, ruthless, to accumulate money. Don't let us fool ourselves with all this; to be rich implies cruelty. Sir, don't you know that the rich man cannot enter the kingdom of heaven? It is as difficult for him as for the camel to pass through the eye of a needle. When you have accumulated money, what happens? You want to know how to use it; either you become a philanthropist, or you want to use it rightly. That is, you accumulate money wrongly, and then try to use it rightly. (Laughter.) Sirs, this is not a laughable matter. This is what we are doing. Don't laugh at the rich. You want to be rich too. You accumulate, and then want to know how to use money rightly. How can it be done, Sir? But suppose I have been left money - thank God, I haven't - , suppose I have been left some money. What shall I do with it? What am I to do after getting money, how shall I use it? That is the problem. Shall I give it all away to the poor and become poor also, and be dependent on somebody else? Shall I keep a little, and give the rest away? Shall I use it as a right means to a right end? Shall I become a trustee of it? So, my problem is, having acquired or been left with that thing which is called money, what shall I do with it? Sir, it all depends on your heart, not on your mind; and a mind that has accumulated money is not a generous mind. It is a hard mind, and such a mind cannot deal with that which is material, except on its own level. Therefore, only a heart that knows love can solve this problem, not the mind, not a system. If you have love in your heart, you will know what to do with money - whether to give it all away, because you see it is a nuisance, or to act otherwise, according to the dictates of your heart. But to know the prompting of an affectionate heart is very difficult, especially for those who are rich, because you have never thought in those terms of action. You have always been accustomed to ruthlessness, to hardness; and to look at the problem with affectionate consideration is very difficult. So, more important than money, is love; and when you have money without love, then woe to you. Having money, and realizing that your heart is empty, the problem then is not money, but to awaken the spring, the perfume, the beauty of the heart; and when that is awakened, you will know how to act. Without love, merely to become a philanthropist is another form of exploitation. When there is love, then love will show the way to the rich man and also to the poor man. Because, Sir, love is the solvent; love is the only way out of this contradiction of being rich and knowing what to do with the riches. Without love, mere consideration of what to do with wealth becomes another form of escape from our own misery, our own strife, our own emptiness. Question: I am a writer, and am faced with periods of sterility when nothing seems to come. These periods begin and end without any apparent reason. What is the cause and cure? Krishnamurti: That is, Sir, to put the problem differently, there are moments of creativeness, and moments of dullness; moments of sensitivity, and moments of insensitivity. Now, why is there this gap? Why is there not one constant stretch of creativeness? Why is there not constant sensitivity? Obviously, the problem is not how to be creative all the time, but why there is insensitivity. The creative state comes into being, it cannot be invited, it cannot be held by concentration, it cannot be maintained. What we can deal with is insensitivity, those moments of dullness, those moments of uncreativeness. Now, why do they come into being? Why is there no creativeness, why is there insensitivity? Obviously, because we are doing things, thinking things, feeling things, which are in themselves insensitive. How can there be greed, ruthlessness, crudeness, and yet be sensitivity? I write a book. It becomes popular, it is accepted by one of the Hollywood studios, and I have plenty of money. I have lost sensitivity because I am after money, position; or I want to be elected to Parliament as a member of some party. So, obviously, greed brings about insensitivity; and without tackling the causes of insensitivity, we cling to creativeness, we long for creativeness, which is another escape from what is. From the moment I understand and tackle what is, there comes creative being; when I understand what are the many causes that bring about insensitivity and dullness, and liberate thought from those, then there is a creative state. So, the problem is, first of all, to recognize, to be aware of insensitivity, and of its cause - not to probe into it, but to be passively aware of your insensitivity. That is, Sir, be passively aware of it, recognize it, live with it without contradiction, without denial, without condemnation. In that state of passive awareness, you will see that the cause of dullness is revealed; and when the cause is revealed, there is immediately the state of sensitivity. You can experiment with it and you will see. There is the state of dullness, and you are aware of it. The moment you are passively aware of it, there is a pause, there is a period in which there is no contradiction, no condemnation. Then, in that period, if you don't condemn, the unconscious which holds the cause, is shown; and by being passively aware, the cause and the effect are destroyed. Therefore, there is a state of sensitivity. You don't have to accept my word for it. You can experiment with it, and you will see this actually takes place. If there is passive awareness in which the dullness is perceived, and immediately after the perception there is a period of silence without condemnation, then in that period of observation without condemnation, the cause of insensitivity, of dullness, is revealed. The truth of that perception frees the mind from insensitivity. Therefore, there is a state of creativeness. But, unfortunately, the writer, the painter, the sculptor, has to live. He is not merely satisfied with the beauty of the marble, with the expression of beauty, with the garland of words. He wants a result, he wants cash, he wants food, clothing and shelter. If he merely wanted clothing, food and shelter, then it would be comparatively simple. But he uses food, clothing and shelter as a psychological means to expand himself; his art, his writing, becomes a means of self-expansion, and thereby brings about strife, misery, that dullness which prevents creative being. But if I write a book, though it may be a means of livelihood, if I do not use it as a psychological process of self-expansion, then there can never be a moment of dullness. Then there is a constant renewal, because I am not asking anything; then the `I' is absent. Where there is the absence of the `I', there is no continuity, therefore there is constant ending; therefore there is renewal, there is eternal creation. Question: Is not the direct effect of your person helpful in understanding your teachings? Do we not grasp better the teaching when we love the teacher? Krishnamurti: No Sir. You understand better when you love people, when you love your neighbour, not the teacher. When you love your wife, your child, your neighbour, white or brown - for there is no class distinction in love - , when there is a perfume, a song in your heart, then it brings an understanding. Obviously, when you are listening to me, my explaining does help; because I am making myself very clear, and you are listening attentively. You are being forced to listen for a couple of hours, whether you like it or not. You are giving your mind and heart to find out; you would not come here if you didn't want to find out. Therefore, it is mutual. You are seeking, and I am helping. But if you were not seeking, you would not be here, you would not listen to me. Surely, Sir, when a person understands something clearly, and you talk to that person, your own mind becomes clear. But if you make of that person your guru and love him, if you merely love the teacher, then you will have contempt for your servant. Have you not noticed, Sirs, how very respectful you are to me, and how very cruel you are to your servant, to your wife, to your neighbours? Is that not a state of contradiction? I really don't care whether you are respectful or insolent to me; it doesn't matter much. But it matters an awful lot how you treat your wife, your servant. When you respect one and deny that respect to everybody else, then you are in a state of hypocrisy, and such respect, offered to one and denied to others, can never lead you to truth. What brings understanding is respect for man, the love of man. When your own heart is full, then you look for truth everywhere, then you listen to the song of the birds, to the raindrops, you see the smiles, the sorrows of man. In every leaf, in a dead leaf, there is that which is eternal; but we do not know how to look for it because our minds are so full of other things besides this search. So, mere respect for one is of very little significance when you have no respect for everyone - respect being affection, kindliness, consideration; but when there is love, consideration, generosity, causing no enmity, then you are already very near. Then you are in a state of sensitivity, and that which is sensitive is capable of receiving. You cannot go to truth, you cannot go to the unknown; truth, the unknown, must come to you. But it cannot come to you if your mind is burdened, heavy, forced, ruthless, hard. So, in listening to me, if you are merely being stimulated through hearing, then it will have no significance, because all stimulation is sensual. It can have significance only in your daily action, in your relationships with people, with ideas, and with things. Then you will find out, Sir, whether any of these things have meaning - not by listening to me for a couple of hours. What matters is how you are with your servant, with your wife, with your husband, with your neighbour; because, the moment there is thought, an awakened, intelligent enquiry, then there is devotion; for the very search for truth is devotion. And where there is devotion, where there is love, there is understanding. March 14, 1948 BOMBAY 11TH PUBLIC TALK 21ST MARCH, 1948 I think I will answer questions mostly this evening, but before I do so I would like to make one or two remarks. Next Sunday will be the last talk, and there will be no talks thereafter. The discussions will end on the 28th. There is a tendency, I think, especially among those who have read a great deal and have experienced according to their reading, to translate what I say in terms of their old knowledge. It is like putting new wine in old bottles. When one puts new wine in old bottles, the new wine ferments and breaks the bottle. That is generally what happens. Similarly, perhaps, those who have read along a particular line are apt to translate what I say according to their previous knowledge, and I think it is a mistake merely to translate or put into the old language what one hears. Because, merely to translate what you hear into old terminologies does not bring about understanding. It makes one classify, pigeonhole what one hears, which really prevents understanding. What brings understanding is direct comprehension - not comprehension through the old language, the old terminology, the old words, with their specific meanings. So, if I may suggest, it will be beneficial and worthwhile to listen and comprehend directly, without translating what is said into your particular terminology of usage of words. Most of us have accumulated knowledge, and according to that knowledge, we act. But self-knowledge is different; self-knowledge is not accumulative, residual knowledge, but it demands constant alertness, watchfulness. The moment we accumulate knowledge, it becomes a burden; and where there is a burden, a weight, travelling becomes impossible or very difficult. Whereas, self-knowledge, the knowledge of the whole total process of oneself, does not demand any previous knowledge at all. On the contrary, where there is previous knowledge, there is bound to be misunderstanding, misinterpretation, and mistranslation. It is like taking a journey: as you proceed, you begin to understand the country, the scenery. Or, you dig a well, and drink the waters of that well. Similarly, self-knowledge is not accumulative, it is a constant movement, it is knowledge from moment to moment, always living, always a discovery, always creative. It is only when there is accumulation, when there are residual remains which become memory, that knowledge is an impediment to creative living, creative being. After all, the knowledge that we have is technical, is it not? We do not accumulate knowledge about ourselves. If we do, it is the memory of what other people have said, or what we have learnt in books, or it is a repetition of words, merely the hearsay of another. Very few of us have self-knowledge, the knowledge of what one actually is. Most of us live superficially. It may be likened to an iceberg: only one tenth of it shows on the surface, the rest is below the water. Similarly, we live one-tenth on the surface, and we are very agitated; our activities, our social, political, religious existence, is all on the surface. We never go below and enquire into the depths, where most of our existence really is. But to enquire deeply, profoundly, there must be this constant discovery. First, obviously, there must be the knowledge of our superficial daily actions, daily thoughts, daily feelings. When those are understood, then one can penetrate deeper and deeper into that total process which is the `I', the `you'. And that discovery does not demand previous knowledge; on the contrary, previous knowledge becomes a hindrance. The more you dig, the more you understand, and the art of understanding does not lie in accumulation, in memory. Surely, understanding comes from moment to moment, when the mind is fresh, pliable, alert, passive. In that state, understanding comes silently and swiftly - or slowly, depending on the pliability, the sensitivity, the quickness of the mind. So, self-knowledge is not knowledge which is accumulated. Where there is accumulation, there cannot be discovery and therefore right thinking, true thinking, which is from moment to moment. True action is from moment to moment, not disciplined according to a pattern, an example, or according to an ideal with an end or a result in view. If you will experiment with this, you will discover that self-knowledge is a constant renewal, not an end to be gained or achieved. It is a constant movement in the journey of self-discovery. The deeper, the more swiftly, the mind is able to penetrate, the more it is capable of discovery, and the more there is bliss, there is joy, in that discovery. I have several questions, and I will answer as many of them as possible. Question: What is it that comes when nationalism goes? Krishnamurti: Obviously, intelligence. But I am afraid that is not the implication in this question. The implication is, what can be substituted for nationalism? Any substitution is an act which does not bring intelligence. If I leave one religion and join another, or leave one political party and later on join something else, this constant substitution indicates a state in which there is no intelligence, Now, how does nationalism go? Only by understanding its full implications, by examining it, by being aware of its significance in outward and inward action. Outwardly it brings about divisions between people, classifications, wars and destruction, which is obvious to anyone who is observant. Inwardly, psychologically, this identification with the greater, with the country, with an idea, is obviously a form of self-expansion. That is, living in a little village, or a big town, or whatever it be, I am nobody; but if I identify myself with the larger, with the country, if I call myself a Hindu, it flatters my vanity, it gives me gratification, prestige, a sense of well being; and that identification with the larger, which is a psychological necessity for those who feel that self-expansion is essential, also creates conflict, strife, between people. So, nationalism not only creates outward conflict, but inward frustrations; and when one understands nationalism, the whole process of nationalism, it falls away. The understanding of nationalism comes through intelligence. That is, by carefully observing, by probing into the whole process of nationalism, patriotism, out of that examination comes intelligence, and then there is no substitution of something else for nationalism. The moment you substitute religion for nationalism, religion becomes another means of self expansion, another source of psychological anxiety, a means of feeding oneself through a belief. Therefore, any form of substitution, however noble, is a form of ignorance. It is like a man substituting chewing gum, or betel nut, or whatever it is, for smoking. Whereas, if one really understands the whole problem of smoking, of habits, sensations, psychological demands, and all the rest of it, then smoking drops away. You can understand only when there is a development of in- telligence, when intelligence is functioning; and intelligence is not functioning when there is substitution. Substitution is merely a form of self-bribery, to tempt you not to do this but to do that. Nationalism, with its poison, with its misery and world strife, can disappear only when there is intelligence, and intelligence does not come merely by passing examinations and studying books. Intelligence comes into being when we understand problems as they arise. When there is understanding of the problem at its different levels, not only of the outward part, but of its inward, psychological implications, then, in that process, intelligence comes into being. So, when there is intelligence, there is no substitution; and when there is intelligence, then nationalism, patriotism, which is a form of stupidity, disappears. Question: What is the difference between awareness and introspection? And who is aware in awareness? Krishnamurti: Let us first examine what we mean by introspection. We mean by introspection, looking within oneself, examining oneself. Now, why does one examine oneself? In order to improve, in order to change, in order to modify. That is, you introspect in order to become something, otherwise you would not indulge in introspection. You would not examine yourself if there were not the desire to modify, change, to become something other than what you are. Surely, that is the obvious reason for introspection. I am angry, and I introspect, examine myself, in order to get rid of anger, or to modify or change anger. Now, where there is introspection, which is the desire to modify or change the responses, the reactions of the self, there is always an end in view; and when that end is not achieved, there is moodiness, depression. So, introspection invariably goes with depression. I don't know if you have noticed that when you introspect, when you look into yourself in order to change yourself, there is always a wave of depression. There is always a moody wave which you have to battle against; you have to examine yourself again in order to overcome that mood, and so on. Introspection is a process in which there is no release, because it is a process of transforming what is into something which it is not. Obviously, that is exactly what is taking place when we introspect, when we indulge in that peculiar action. In that action, there is always an accumulative process, the `I' examining something in order to change it. So, there is always a dualistic conflict, and therefore a process of frustration. There is never a release; and realizing that frustration, there is depression. Now, awareness is entirely different. Awareness is observation without condemnation. Awareness brings understanding, because there is no condemnation or identification, but silent observation. Surely, if I want to understand something, I must observe, I must not criticize, I must not condemn, I must not pursue it as pleasure or avoid it as non-pleasure. There must merely be the silent observation of a fact. There is no end in view, but awareness of everything as it arises. That observation and the understanding of that observation cease when there is condemnation, identification, or justification. Introspection is self-improvement, and therefore introspection is self-centredness. Awareness is not self-improvement. On the contrary, it is the ending of the self, of the `I', with all its peculiar idiosyncrasies, memories, demands and pursuits. In introspection, there is identification and condemnation. In awareness, there is no condemnation or identification; therefore, there is no self-improvement. There is a vast difference between the two. The man who wants to improve himself can never be aware, because improvement implies condemnation and the achievement of a result. Whereas, in awareness, there is observation without condemnation, without denial or acceptance. That awareness begins with outward things, being aware, being in contact with objects, with nature. First, there is awareness of things about one, being sensitive to objects, to nature, then to people, which means relationship, and then there is awareness of ideas. This awareness, being sensitive to things, to nature, to people, to ideas, is not made up of separate processes, but is one unitary process. It is a constant observation of everything, of every thought and feeling and action as they arise within oneself. And as awareness is not condemnatory, there is no accumulation. You condemn only when you have a standard, which means there is accumulation, and therefore improvement of the self. Awareness is to understand the activities of the self, the `I', in its relationship with people, with ideas, and with things. That awareness is from moment to moment, and therefore it cannot be practiced. When you practise a thing, it becomes a habit; and awareness is not habit. A mind that is habitual is insensitive, a mind that is functioning within the groove of a particular action is dull, unplayable; whereas, awareness demands constant pliability, alertness. This is not difficult. It is what you all do when you are interested in something, when you are interested in watching your child, your wife, your plants, trees, birds. You observe without condemnation, without identification; therefore, in that observation, there is complete communion, the observer and the observed are completely in communion. This actually takes place when you are deeply, profoundly interested in something. So, there is a vast difference between awareness, and the self-expansive improvement of introspection. The one, which is introspection, leads to frustration, to further and greater conflict; whereas, awareness is a process of release from the action of the self; it is to be aware of your daily movements, of your thoughts, of your actions, and to be aware of another, to observe him. You can do that only when you love somebody, when you are deeply interested in something; and when I want to know myself, my whole being, the whole content of myself and not just one or two layers, then there obviously must be no condemnation. Then I must be open to every thought, to every feeling, to all the moods, to all the suppressions; and as there is more and more expansive awareness, there is greater and greater freedom from all the hidden movement of thoughts, motives and pursuits. So, awareness is freedom, it brings freedom, it yields freedom. Whereas, introspection cultivates conflict, the process of self-enclosure; therefore in it there is always frustration and fear. The questioner also wants to know who is aware. Now, when you have a profound experience of any kind, what is taking place? When there is such an experience, are you aware that you are experiencing? When you are angry, at the split second of anger or of jealousy or of joy, are you aware that you are joyous or that you are angry? It is only when the experience is over that there is the experiencer and the experienced. Then the experiencer observes the experienced, the object of experience. But at the moment of experience, there is neither the observer nor the observed: there is only the experiencing. Now, most of us are not experiencing. We are always outside the state of experiencing, and therefore we ask this question as to who is the observer, who is it that is aware. Surely, such a question is a wrong question, is it not? The moment there is experiencing, there is neither the person who is aware nor the object of which he is aware. There is neither the observer nor the observed, but only a state of experiencing. Most of us find it is extremely difficult to live in a state of experiencing, because that demands an extraordinary pliability, a quickness, a high degree of sensitivity; and that is denied when we are pursuing a result, when we want to succeed, when we have an end in view, when we are calculating - all of which brings frustration. But a man who does not demand anything, who is not seeking an end, who is not searching out a result with all its implications, such a man is in a state of constant experiencing. Everything then has a movement, a meaning, and nothing is old; nothing is charred, nothing is repetitive, because what is, is never old. The challenge is always new. It is only the response to the challenge that is old; and the old creates further residue, which is memory, the observer, who separates himself from the observed, from the challenge, from the experience. You can experiment with this for yourself very simply and very easily. Next time you are angry or jealous or greedy or violent or whatever it be, watch yourself. In that state, `you' are not. There is only that state of being. But the moment, the second afterwards, you term it, you name it, you call it jealousy, anger, greed. So, you have created immediately the observer and the observed, the experiencer and the experienced. When there is the experiencer and the experienced, then the experiencer tries to modify the experience, change it, remember things about it, and so on, and therefore maintains the division between himself and the experienced. But if you don't name that feeling - which means, you are not seeking a result, you are not condemning, you are merely silently aware of the feeling - , then you will see that in that state of feeling, of experiencing there is no observer and no observed; because, the observer and the observed are a joint phenomenon, and there is only experiencing. So, introspection and awareness are entirely different. Introspection leads to frustration, to further conflict, for in it is implied the desire for change, and change is merely a modified continuity. Whereas, awareness is a state in which there is no condemnation, no justification or identification, and therefore there is understanding; and in that state of passive, alert awareness, there is neither the experiencer nor the experienced. Sir, what I am saying is not very difficult, though you may find it verbally difficult. But you will notice, when you yourself are interested in something very gravely and very deeply, this actually takes place. You are so completely submerged in the thing in which you are interested that there is no exclusion, no concentration. Introspection, which is a form of self-improvement, of self-expansion, can never lead to truth, because it is always a process of self-enclosure; whereas, awareness is a state in which truth can come into being, the truth of what is, the simple truth of daily existence. It is only when we understand the truth of daily existence that we can go far. You must begin near to go far; but most of us want to jump, to begin far without understanding what is close. As we under- stand the near, we will find the distance between the near and the far is not. There is no distance - the beginning and the end are one. Question: Is marriage a need or a luxury? Krishnamurti: Now, let us examine the problem, the question. Why do we marry? First, obviously, because of biological necessity, the sexual urge, which society has legalized by marriage. Society wants to protect the children and not have them illegitimate, because it looks upon illegitimate children with horror. Therefore, marriage is legalized. But surely, that is not the only reason why we marry. We marry because of psychological demands. I need a companion, somebody I can posses, dominate, somebody I can call mine. I can do with my wife what I like, she is subordinate to man - in this country, not in America. Here, the marriage system has made the woman a slave, to be protected, controlled, dominated, possessed. Don't look at somebody else, Sirs; you are all involved in it. Woman is a possession; as I possess property, so I possess my wife. I possess her sexually and dominate her outwardly. Psychologically, possession gives me comfort, security: my property, my wife, my children - the horror of it all. We treat human beings as we treat material goods, without any consideration; because, once I possess you legally, you are under me. So, society legalizes marriage in order to perpetuate the race, to hold it within limits; but psychologically, inwardly, I can do what I like. And you know the whole business of existence, the horrors, the agonies, the miseries, of those who are married and who don't love each other. How can there be love when there is possessiveness? And if you don't marry, what happens? I have seen that in several countries; there is what is called companionate marriage. Don't look shocked. Again, if there is no love, companionate marriage becomes an easy way out for your sexual appetite and irresponsibility. So, without love, both are a horror. But society does not care two pins whether there is love or not; and as most of us are so concentrated, so engrossed in our business life, in making money or whatever it be, as we are ruthless in our business and cruel in the world, how can we possibly have love for anyone at home? You cannot on the one hand exploit your neighbour, starve him out, suck the blood out of him, and then go home and have affection for your wife. No, Sirs, you cannot do both. But that is what you are trying to do, and that is why you have no love. That is why marriage throughout the world is such a miserable affair. Marriage is also a form of self-perpetuation. I want continuity through my children. Therefore, children become very important, not in themselves, but for my own continuity - my name, my class, my caste. You know the whole business. And naturally, when you are merely using children for your own continuity, there is no love. How can there be when you are more interested in your own continuity through them, than in loving them, whatever they are? Therefore, tradition and name become very important, because they are the means of perpetuating yourself through your children. So, to understand this problem, to find out what it involves, we must study it, go into it. In studying there comes intelligence, and only intelligence and love can deal with this problem, not legislation. The moment I possess a person, he becomes a prostitute; that is, the per- son becomes important, not for himself, but because in myself I am empty, starving, ugly, I am insufficient, poor, so I use another - my wife, my employer, or whoever it be -to cover my inward emptiness. Therefore, the possessed becomes important as a means of escape from my own loneliness; and naturally I grow jealous, envious, when the other, who is helping me to escape from myself, looks at somebody else. So to understand all this human process, which is extremely complex and subtle, one must have intelligence. Intelligence is also love, not mere intellect; and we cannot have love if, on the one hand, we are ruthless in our business, in everyday life, and on the other, try to be gentle, tender and merciful. You cannot do both, you cannot be an ambitious rich man and yet be loving and tender. You cannot be a captain of industry, or a big politician, and yet be merciful. The two don't go together. And it is only when there is love, mercy -which is intelligence, the highest form of intelligence - that this problem can be solved. We are human beings, whether men or women; we are alive, sensitive, we are not doormats to be trampled upon, used sexually or mentally for self-gratification. The moment we regard each other as human beings, as individuals, not as something to be possessed, then there is a possibility of understanding and of going beyond this conflict that exists between two people in marriage, Question: Who is he that feeds you if not an exploiter? How are you free from exploitation, since you exploit an exploiter? Krishnamurti: Now, what do we mean by exploitation? Obviously, using another for one's own gratification, which is principally psychological. When I use another psychologically, then I am really exploiting him; and most of our exploitation in the world - the rich exploiting the poor, the leader exploiting the led, the follower exploiting the leader, and so on - is essentially based on inward demands, on psychological poverty of being. There will be no outward exploitation of man by man when there is a cessation of the inner and entirely psychological demand to use another - whether it be your wife, a labourer, or the man in the office - as a means to enrich yourself. After all, you gather money, prestige, as a means of self-expansion; but you are content with little, with the necessities of life, when you are inwardly rich, when you don't depend upon another as a means of covering up your own psychological demands and emptiness. So, exploitation obviously begins when we use another psychologically as a means of self expansion. Now, the questioner asks me if I am not exploiting the exploiter. I don't think I am. I am fed by him, as I would be if I went out and earned money. I am not using him as a psychological necessity, nor am I using you, the audience, the individual, in order to expand myself. Therefore, I am not your leader and you are not my follower. I don't need you psychologically, and I have tested this out for myself by not getting on a platform and by ceasing to talk. So, as I would go out and earn money for my needs, I am talking; and for that I am clothed and fed. But as society is constructed at the present time, its whole structure is based on exploitation, which is using another psychologically as a means of self-expansion; and there are only a very few thoughtful people who don't care to use another as a means of self-expansion, and who therefore cease to exploit. Surely, exploitation means far more than exploiting the labourer. The basis of all exploitation is the psychological demand to use another as a means of self-expansion, as a means of aggression and self-perpetuation. So, where there is no self-expansion, where there is not the use of another psychologically, there is no exploitation. That means you are content with little, not because of an ideal, but because inwardly there is a treasure, there is beauty, ecstasy. But without that inward simplicity, merely to don a loin cloth means nothing; because, you may outwardly have but one cloth, while inwardly you are using and therefore exploiting people. We give so much importance to outward exploitation; the communist, the socialist, everybody is trying to stop outward exploitation. It does not mean that that is wrong; but we should attack the inward causes of exploitation, which are much more complex, much more subtle, and that cannot be done through mere legislation. That is why it is very important for the individual to transform himself. And the transformation of the individual, you and me, is not a question of time. It must be done now. Because, when you transform yourself, the world will be transformed. The world is the place where you live, it is your relationships, your values; and it can be affected immediately when there is a deep, inward revolution in you. And this inward revolution can take place only when you as an individual are not using another for your self-expansion, for your gratification, for your comfort. Question: Is not stilling the mind a prerequisite for the solution of a problem, and is not the dissolution of a problem a condition of mental stillness? Krishnamurti: There are two questions involved in this, so we will take them one by one. "Is not stilling the mind a prerequisite for the solution of a problem?" It all depends on what you call the mind. The mind is not just the superficial layer; consciousness is not merely that dull action of the mind. Obviously, when there is a problem which is created by the superficial mind, the superficial mind has to become quiet in order to understand it. You do that anyhow, it happens in daily life. When you have a business problem, what do you do? You switch off the telephone, you stop your secretary if you have one, and you observe, study the problem - which means your mind is free from other worries. Your superficial mind is concerned with the problem, which means that it has become still. But the superficial mind does not include the whole content of the mind. Your whole consciousness has not become still; only the superficial layer, which is constantly in agitation, has become temporarily quiet. "And is not the dissolution of a problem a condition of mental stillness?" Obviously. It is only when every problem is completely understood - which means that the problem leaves no residue, no scar, no memory - that the mind becomes still. Consciousness, as we have said, is a process of experiencing, naming or terming, and recording, which is memory. So, consciousness is a process of challenge and response, naming and recording, or memory. That is the whole process of consciousness. The recording, the naming, the experiencing, can be suppressed, held down in one of the deep layers of consciousness; but until that suppression is raised, either through dreams, through action, or through unearthing that hidden thing, there cannot be stillness of the mind. A mind which has many hidden drawers, hidden cupboards with innumerable skeletons held down by will, by denial, by suppression, how can such a mind be still? It can be driven, willed to be still; but is that stillness? A man who is hanging on to passion, who is lustful and has suppressed it, held it down, how can such a man have a calm, still, rich mind? A man who is tortured by ambition and therefore frustrated, and who tries to fly from that frustration through every means of escape, how can such a man have a still mind? It is only when ambition is understood, when the problems of ambition, with its frustrations, with its conflicts, with its ruthlessness, have been understood, that the mind becomes quiet. By looking into oneself deeply, opening all the cupboards, all the drawers, unearthing all the skeletons and understanding them, then the mind becomes quiet. You cannot have stillness of mind with locked doors. You may still the mind by will, which is an easy escape; but a mind that is made still by the action of will is a dead mind, it is insensitive, it has been brutalized by the action of the will. It is only by giving full freedom to every movement of thought and understanding it -which does not mean licentiousness, evil actions, and so on - , only by understanding the whole content of your being, that the mind becomes still. Then it is not made still; tranquillity comes to it naturally, easily, swiftly. It is like a pond which becomes serene, without a ripple, when the breezes stop. Similarly, the mind becomes extraordinarily quiet, without a movement, absolutely still, when the problems are dissolved. Now, problems are created by the thinker separating himself from his thought, the actor from his action, thereby giving importance to the actor, to the thinker. And stillness comes to the mind only through self-knowledge - not through denial of the self or acceptance of the self, but through understanding every movement, every thought, every feeling of the self, both the high and the low. The high and the low is a false division the mind has indulged in. There is only thought, which divides itself as the high and the low; and to understand thought, the whole process of thought, one must have self-knowledge. That means every thought must be understood, felt out, without condemnation. There must be silent, swift awareness; and out of that self-knowledge there comes an extraordinary quietness, a stillness that is creative, a stillness in which reality comes into being. But to pursue stillness and to cultivate stillness destroys that creative reality, because you are pursuing stillness, exercising your will to become still. as a means of getting a result, of obtaining something. A man who is seeking a result, an end, who is trying to acquire truth by forcing the mind, by making it still, will never find that reality. He is only dulling himself, escaping from the cupboards, from the skeletons that are holding him. It is only by inviting sorrow that you can understand reality, not by escaping from tribulations. Question: Since the motive power in the search for truth is interest, what creates interest? What creates interest in a relevant question? Is it suffering? Krishnamurti: Obviously, where there is no interest, there is no search. Where there is no interest, there may be control, domination, effort; but there is search, enquiry, only where there is interest. That very search is devotion. Devotion is not a separate path to reality. Where there is search, there is action; and there is no separate path of karma yoga. Because, where there is enquiry, there is action, and that very search brings wisdom. So, interest is essential; and how does interest come into being? Interest comes into being, obviously, when you are suffering, when you want to know what are the causes of suffering because you are caught in it, or because you see another caught in it. Surely, there is no other way but the way of sorrow. But when you suffer, you seek remedies, palliatives, escapes, gurus, which dissipates your enquiry into suffering. When you are worried, when you are suffering, your instinct is to run away from it, to take flight from it, to seek a verbal explanation or any other means to get away from it. Whereas, if you observe suffering without escaping, without condemning it - which is extremely arduous - , then you will find that it begins to tell you extraordinary things, it begins to reveal untold treasures. So, your difficulty is not that you don't suffer, but that you dissipate your energies in trying to overcome suffering. What is overcome has to be overcome again and again, and therefore you go on suffering. Suffering does not lead to intelligence when you try to overcome it; whereas, if you begin to understand it, then it leads you to intelligence. And if you examine is yourself, you will see that when there is suffering you want a hand to hold you, a guru to tell you what to do; or you turn on the radio, you escape to the cinema or the racecourse, or you do innumerable things - you pray, you do puja, to get away from the suffering, from the actual throbbing pain. These are all means of dissipating your energies; but if you don't do any of them, what happens? There is suffering, and the paralysis of that suffering; then, in the silence of that suffering, when the mind is no longer escaping, you are living with suffering. You are not condemning it, you are not identifying yourself with it, therefore it begins to reveal its causes. You have not searched out its causes - to search out the cause of suffering is another form of escape. Whereas, if you are simply aware of suffering without condemnation, the cause of that suffering is revealed. Then suffering begins to unfold its story chapter by chapter, and you see all the implications; and the more you read the book of suffering, the greater the wisdom. Therefore, when you escape from suffering, you are really escaping from wisdom. Wisdom can be found in any sorrow; you don't have to have great crises. Wisdom is there for him who seeks, who does not shun, who does not escape, who does not take flight, but who is passively, alertly, aware of what is. In that alert, passive awareness, the full meaning of what is, is understood. When it is understood, truth comes into being; and it is truth that frees one from sorrow, it is truth that gives bliss, it is truth that gives freedom, and in that state, sorrow is completely dissolved. As sorrow is negative, sorrow must be approached negatively; any positive action towards sorrow is an escape. It is only through the highest form of thinking, which is negative thinking, that there is understanding; and where there is understanding, there is stillness, there is tranquillity. Then truth frees thought from all problems. March 21, 1948 BOMBAY 12TH PUBLIC TALK 28TH MARCH, 1948 As this is the last talk, I will try to make a brief resume of what we have all been discussing and talking about during the last three months. Natu- rally, it has to be rather concise and may perhaps be puzzling at first; but if you will kindly think it over, I believe certain things will be clear, even though others may need further explanation, more going into - which we have been trying to do during the discussions. But I think the obvious fact remains that most of us have many problems, many anxieties and conflicts, and we appear not to be able to solve them. I think it is because we don't see the picture clearly, we don't read the problem deeply and carefully, without prejudice, whatever it be - whether emotional, psychological, intellectual, social, or economic. The problem itself contains the answer; the answer is not away from the problem. Our whole question, then, is how to read the problem very clearly and swiftly, because the problem is never the same. It is constantly varying, moving, never still. It is like a swift-running river. And to understand such a problem, we must understand the creator of the problem, which is the mind, the self, the `I'. But most of us are made happy by things created by the hand or by the mind; we are content with things, produced either by the machine, or by ideation, by thought, by belief. But things made by the hand or by the mind are all sensate; they soon wear out and pass away, as by constant use a machine wears itself out. So, things made by the hand wear themselves out; and so do things produced by the mind -the idea, the opinion, the belief, the tenet. The value of these things made by the mind soon wears away, and so there is a constant struggle to maintain permanency in those things which are inherently impermanent. The things made by the hand are misused by the mind. Food, clothing, and shelter, are given wrong values by the mind; and a mind that gives wrong values creates misery. Our conflict, then, arises from the values which the mind establishes for the things made by the hand; and in their misuse lies our misery. So, the mind, which is the intellect, with its will and its capacity for evaluation, must be understood; because, as long as the mind is not understood, with its desires, with its pursuits and the capacity to evaluate according to its prejudices, notions, knowledge - as long as the mind is not understood, obviously there is conflict, there is misery. Will, after all, is the expression of desire, the outcome of craving, of the desire to be; and as long as that will -with the capacity to evaluate, which is the function of the intellect -is not gone into deeply, understood, and given its full significance, there is bound to be conflict, there is bound to be misery. So, if there is no understanding of will, of the intellect, and of the creations of the mind - which are not separate processes, but a total process - , there is bound to be conflict; and the understanding of the mind is self-knowledge. Self-knowledge makes one straight. What is crooked is the evaluer, the interpreter, the misuser, the corrupter, that is, the mind; and as long as there is no self-knowledge, which is awareness of the process of the mind, of the `I', there must be wrong evaluation of things made by the hand or by the mind, and therefore there must be conflict, misery. Self-knowledge is the beginning of wisdom, and without self-knowledge there is no happiness. So, in order to understand a problem, however complex it may appear, whether it is an economic, social, or psychological problem, one must be able to see it clearly, without distortion; but this is not possible as long as there is no self-knowledge. And self-knowledge cannot be realized as long as there is no meditation. Because, meditation is a process of continual revelation of every thought and every feeling; it is not the fixation on a particular picture or idea, but a constant awareness, a constant understanding of every thought, every feeling, as they arise. Meditation is not choosing one particular form and dwelling upon it, but it is a continual discovery of the meaning of every thought and of every feeling. To do this, there must be no condemnation. Our problem is sorrow, the sorrow that exists in relationship, the sorrow that comes through wrong valuation, the sorrow that comes through ignorance; and sorrow can be dissipated, dissolved, only when there is the unfolding of self-knowledge. That knowledge is not of the higher self or of the lower self - which is a division within the field of the mind, and therefore a false division, a self-protective division without any reality. Self-knowledge is awareness of the self without division; and as long as there is no self-knowledge, the multiplication and re-creation of our problems will continue. That is why the individual is enormously significant. For he is the only transformer, he alone can bring about a revolution in his relationship, and therefore a revolution in the world, the world of his relationship. Only through self-knowledge can there be transformation, and this transformation cannot come into being through any miracle, through book learning, but only through constant experimentation, through constant discovery of the process of one's being. This process is a total process, and not a separative process. It is not in antagonism to the world, because the individual is a total process, he is a result of the world. Without the world, without the other, without relationship, the individual is not; and he who would be transformed and realize happiness cannot isolate himself. Only when there is constant discovery of the activities of the self, of the `I', with its cravings, anxieties, pursuits and false creations, only when there is complete understanding of the ways of the self, the hidden and the open workings of the mind - only then can there be happiness. Happiness comes not in evaluating, but when the mind is not occupied with itself, when the mind is silent, then happiness comes into being; and such a happy man can then resolve the problems about him. Question: Why don't you do miracles? All teachers did. Krishnamurti: What do you mean by miracles? Healing the physically sick, and those who are sick psychologically? Both these things have been done. Others have done it, and I also have done it. But surely that is not important, is it? To be healed psychologically is more important than to be healed physically, because psychological illness affects the body, which in turn brings about disease. Therefore, the psychological state of health is far more important than physical health - which does not mean that we must deny physical well-being; but mere concentration on physical health will not bring about psychological well being. Whereas, if there is a transformation in the psyche, in the mind, then that will inevitably effect the well-being of the physical. So, the miracle which we all want, which we are all waiting to see happen, is really a sign of laziness, of irresponsibility. We want somebody else to do the job for us. If I may talk about myself, I also at one time did healing; but I found it was far more important to heal the mind, the inward state of being. Because, when each one of us can find inward riches, then there will be an amelioration of physical ill health. Merely to concentrate on healing the outward may make for popularity, draw large groups, but it will not lead man to happiness. So, we should concentrate on healing the inward emptiness, the inward disease, the inward corruption, the inward distortion - and that can be done only by you. None can heal you inwardly, and that is the miracle of it. A doctor can heal you outwardly, a psychoanalyst can help you to be normal, to fit into society; but to go beyond that, which means to be really healthy, to be inwardly true, clear, wholly uncorrupted - that you alone can do, and no one else; and I think that to heal oneself completely and surely is the greatest miracle. That is what we have been doing here during the last three months: seeing for ourselves the causes of inward disease, inward conflict, inward contradiction, seeing things as they are, very clearly, purely and precisely; and when all things are seen clearly, then the miracle happens. Because, when that which is, is perceived without distortion, there is understanding; and that understanding brings a healing quality. But understanding can come only through your own individual awareness and not through the miracle of another, not through the impression, the influence, the compulsion, or the imposition of the idea of another. Surely, miracles do happen. They are happening all the time, only we are not aware of it. Physically and psychologically, inwardly as well as outwardly, you are not the same today as yesterday. The body is undergoing transformation all the time, and so is the inward nature, the mind; and if we can follow it easily and swiftly, then we will see what an extraordinary miracle is happening in us and about us - the miracle being the constant newness, the freshness of life, the infinite beauty, the pliability, the depth of existence. But one cannot follow swiftly if one is tethered, if one is bound, if one is ceaselessly occupied with one's own achievements, anxieties and pursuits. For a man who is ambitious, there is no miracle, because he knows what he wants and he achieves it; but the man who is uncertain, who asks nothing, to him life is a miracle, a miracle of constant renewal; and we shall miss that renewal if we are merely seeking a result, an end. Question: You have said that some transformation has taken place in all your listeners. Presumably, they have to wait for the manifestations of that transformation. How then can you call it immediate? Krishnamurti: Surely, as long as we are looking for transformation, there will be no transformation. As long as we think in terms of yesterday, today and tomorrow, there can obviously be no transformation, because the mind is still caught in the net of time. If I want to change immediately, now, if that is my intention, then it is not possible, because I am thinking in terms of time, of today and tomorrow. As long as we are thinking in terms of time, of the present and the future, there cannot be transformation, because then transformation is merely a change, a continuity; but the moment thought is free from time, then there is a timeless transformation which is not a contradiction. That is, as long as a problem is thought about, the problem will continue. Thought, which is the result of the past, creates the problem; and that which is the result of the past cannot resolve the problem. It can look at it, it can examine it, it can analyze it, but it cannot resolve the problem. The problem - any problem whether a mathematical problem, a problem of relationship, or a problem of ideation - is resolved only when the thought process comes to an end, only when the mind, which is thought, the result of many yesterdays, ceases. That which is the result of time cannot bring about transformation; and when it does, either there will be a change which is a modified continuity, or the problem will become more complex. Whereas, if there is passive awareness of the problem, observation of it without condemnation or justification, then you will see there is an immediate transformation, an immediate cessation of that problem. After all, when we talk about transformation, what do we mean? The cessation of a problem, surely. Why does a man want to be transformed? Because he is in misery, in conflict, because he has daily anxieties; and there can be transformation, resolution of the problem, only when the mind, the thinker who is the creator of that problem, understands himself -which means, when the thought process about a problem comes to an end. You do this always when there is an acute problem. You think about it, you worry about it, and thought can go no further; and you leave it. Then in that quietness the problem is understood and resolved, and in that moment there is immediate transformation. Sir, if you are aware of it, this is the process that we are going through daily, is it not? As a farmer cultivates the field in the spring, then sows and harvests, and lets the field lie fallow during the winter, so, if we are aware, we will see that the mind is cultivating, sowing, and harvesting; but, unfortunately, it never allows itself to lie fallow, and it is in that fallowness, as with the field, that there is renewal. As during the winter time, through rains, through storms, through sunshine, the field rejuvenates itself, so the mind re-creates and renews itself when every problem is dissolved. That is, by cultivating, by going fully deeply and completely into each problem, there is the death of that problem, and therefore a renewal. Experiment with this and you will see how extraordinarily quickly and easily every problem is resolved when it is seen very clearly, distinctly, and purely. But to see a problem very clearly, without distortion, you have to give your full attention to it - and that is where the difficulty lies. Our minds are constantly distracted, escaping, because to see a problem clearly might mean action which would bring about further disturbance; and so the mind constantly avoids facing the problem, thereby increasing that problem. But when the thing is seen very clearly, without distortion, then you will find that the problem itself has an answer. So, as long as we think in terms of transformation, there cannot be transformation, either now or hereafter. Transformation comes into being immediately when every problem is understood as it arises, and the immediacy of that transformation depends on your understanding of the problem. You understand a problem only when there is no condemnation or justification, when you really look at it, when you can love the problem. Then you will see that that problem gives its answer, and therefore there is freedom; and at that moment of freedom there is a renewal, there is a transformation. The mind has renewed itself and is therefore free to attack the next problem that arises. Sir, life need not be a succession of problems. Life is a challenge and a response; the challenge is always new, and if the response is always conditioned by the old, then problems continue to arise. But if the response is as new as the challenge, then there is constant renewal, constant transformation; and the response is new only when thought, which is the product of memory - psychological, not factual memory - is understood and not stored up. Then the response is as new as the challenge, and therefore life is a constant movement, an effortless being in which there is bliss - not this constant struggle to become, to transform oneself into something. Question: What are the foundations of right livelihood? How can I find out whether my livelihood is right, and how am I to find right livelihood in a basically wrong society? Krishnamurti: In a basically wrong society, there cannot be right livelihood. What is happening throughout the world at the present time? Whatever livelihood we have brings us to war, to general misery and destruction - which is an obvious fact. Whatever we do inevitably leads to conflict, to decay, to ruthlessness and sorrow. So, the present society is basically wrong; it is founded, is it not?, on envy, hate, and the desire for power; and such a society is bound to create wrong means of livelihood, such as the soldier, the policeman, and the lawyer. By their very nature, they are a disintegrating factor in society, and the more lawyers, policemen, and soldiers there are, the more obvious the decay of society. That is what is happening throughout the world: there are more soldiers, more policemen, more lawyers, and naturally the business man goes with them. So, all that has to be changed in order to found a right society - and we think such a task is impossible. It is not, Sir; but it is you and I who have to do it. Because, at present, whatever livelihood we undertake either creates misery for another, or leads to the ultimate destruction of mankind - which is shown in our daily existence. So, how can that be changed? It can be changed only when you and I are not seeking power, are not envious, are not full of hatred and antagonism. When you, in your relationship, bring about that transformation, then you are helping to create a new society, a society in which there are people who are not held by tradition, who do not ask anything for themselves, who are not pursuing power because inwardly they are rich, they have found reality. Only the man who seeks reality can create a new society; only the man who loves can bring about a transformation in the world. I know this is not a satisfactory answer for a person who wants to find out what is the right livelihood in the present structure of society, You must do the best you can in the present structure of society - either become a photographer, a merchant, a lawyer, a policeman, or whatever it is. But if you do, be conscious of what you are doing, be intelligent, be aware, fully cognizant, of what you are perpetuating, recognize the whole structure of society, with its corruption, with its hatred, with its envy; and if you yourself do not yield to these things, then perhaps you will be able to create a new society. But the moment you ask what is right livelihood, all these questions are inevitably there, are they not? Because, you are not satisfied with your livelihood - you want to be envied, you want to have power, you want to have greater comforts and luxuries, position and authority, and therefore you are inevitably creating or maintaining a society which will bring destruction upon man, upon yourself. And if you clearly see that process of destruction in your own livelihood, if you see that it is the result of your own pursuit of livelihood, then obviously you will find the right means of earning money. But first you must see the picture of society as it is, a disintegrating, corrupted society; and when you see it very clearly, then your means of earning a livelihood will come. But first you must see the picture, see the world as it is, with its national divisions, with its cruelties, ambitions, hatreds and controls. Then, as you see it more clearly, you will find that a right means of livelihood comes into being - you don't have to seek it. But the difficulty with most of us is that we have too many responsibilities; fathers, mothers, are waiting for us to earn money and support them. And as it is difficult to get a job the way society is at the present time, any job is welcome; so we fall into the machinery of society. But those who are not so compelled, who have no need of an immediate job and can therefore look at the whole picture, it is they who are responsible. But, you see, those who are not concerned with an immediate job are caught up in something else - they are concerned with their self-expansion, with their comforts, with their luxuries, with their amusements. They have time, but are dissipating it. And those who have time are responsible for the alteration of society; those who are not immediately pressed for a livelihood should really concern themselves with this whole problem of existence, and not get entangled in mere political action, in superficial activities. Those who have time and so-called leisure should seek out truth, because it is they who can bring about a revolution in the world, not the man whose stomach is empty. But, unfortunately, those who have leisure are not occupied with the eternal. They are occupied in filling their time. Therefore, they also are a cause of misery and confusion in the world. So, those of you who are listening, those of you who have a little time, should give thought and consideration to this problem, and by your own transformation you will bring about a world revolution. Question: How can a man who has never reached the limits of his mind go beyond his mind to experience direct communion with truth? Krishnamurti: Sir when you know the limits of your mind, are you not already beyond the limits? To be aware of your limits is surely the first step, the first process - which is very difficult, because the limits of the mind are erroneously subtle. In knowing that I am limited, in being aware of it without condemnation, there is already a freedom from that limitation, is there not? Surely, to know that I am a liar, to be aware of it without condemnation, without justification, is already a freedom from lying. To know the limits of the mind is already a tremendous liberation, isn't it? To know that I am tethered to a belief is already freedom from that limitation; but a mind which justifies that belief, that bondage, defending it and saying, `It is alright, I need it', such a mind can never know its limitation. When I know that I am tethered, limited by a belief, and am aware of that limitation without condemnation or justification, that is already a liberation from belief. Sir, experiment with this and you will see how extraordinarily active, how extraordinarily true it is. To know, to beware of a problem, is to be free from it; and a mind cannot experience truth if it does not know its limitation. That is why it is very important to have self-knowledge. Self-knowledge is not an ultimate goal, it is not the ultimate end. Self-knowledge is knowing one's limitation from moment to moment, and therefore perceiving the truth from moment to moment. Truth which is continuous is not truth, because that which continues can never renew itself; but in ending, there is a renewal. So, a mind that is not aware of its own limitation can never experience truth; but if the mind is aware of its limitation without condemnation, without justification, if it is purely aware of its limitation, then you will find there comes a freedom from the limitation; and in that freedom, truth is realized. There is not `you' unified to truth: `you' can never find truth. `You' must cease for truth to come into being, because 'you' are the limitation. So, you must understand where you are limited, the extent of your limitation; you must be passively aware of it, and in that passivity truth comes into being. Light cannot be unified with darkness. That which is ignorance cannot become one with wisdom. Ignorance must cease for wisdom to be. Wisdom is not an ultimate end, but it comes into being when ignorance is dissolved from moment to moment. Wisdom is not an accumulation, which gives continuity; wisdom is understanding the problem completely each minute, each second. So, wisdom, reality, is not caught in the net of time. Only through self-knowledge can the limitations, which the self has created, come to an end, and these limitations can be understood only from moment to moment as they arise. And each limitation, as you observe it, brings the truth, each moment you see the false, the truth is perceived; but to see the false as the false, and the truth as truth, is difficult, is arduous; it demands clarity of perception. A mind that is distracted can never see the false as the false, and the true as the true; and to see the truth in the false requires a swiftness of mind, a mind that is not tethered to any bondage, to any limitation. Question: Attachment is the stuff of which we are made. How can we be free from attachment? Krishnamurti: Surely, attachment is not the problem, is it? Why are you attached, and why do you want to be detached? Why is there this constant strife between attachment and detachment? You know what is meant by attachment - the desire to possess a person, to possess things. Sir, why are you attached? What would happen if you were not attached? Surely, attachment becomes a problem only when there is the pursuit of detachment, only when that which is attached is not understood. Now, take an example. If you examine yourself, why are you attached to your wife, to your husband, to your money, to your house, to your property, to your ideas? Why? Because, without that person, you are lost, you are empty; without property, without a name, you are nothing; and without your bank account, without your ideas, what are you? An empty shell, arn't you? So, because you are afraid of being nothing, you are attached to something; and being attached - with all its problems, with its fears, with its cruelties, with its anxieties and frustrations - , you try to become detached, you try to renounce property, renounce your family, renounce your ideas. But you have not really solved the problem, which is the fear of being nothing - and that is why you are attached. After all, you are nothing. Strip yourself of your titles, of your M.A.'s, of your professions and little qualities, of your houses and properties, of your few jewels, and all the rest of it -and what are you? Knowing inwardly that there is an extraordinary emptiness, a void, a nothingness, and being afraid of it, you depend, you are attached, you possess; and in that possession, there is appalling cruelty. You are not concerned about another, you are only concerned about yourself - and that you call love. So, because you are afraid, because there is fear of that emptiness, you are willing to kill another, to destroy mankind. Now, why not accept the obvious, which is that you are nothing - not that you should be nothing, but that you are actually nothing? Sir, when you do accept it, there is no renunciation, neither attachment nor detachment. You simply don't possess - and then there is a beauty, then there is a richness, a blessing that you cannot possibly, understand as long as you are afraid of emptiness. Then life is full of significance, then life becomes really a miracle. But a man who is afraid of emptiness, of being nothing, is attached; and with attachment there arises the conflict of detachment, the conflict of renunciation, and all the appalling misery and cruelty that comes with attachment and dependence. A man who is nothing knows love, for love is nothing. Question: Is extensional awareness the same as creative emptiness? Is not awareness passive and therefore not creative? Is not the process of self-awareness a tedious and painful process? Krishnamurti: If awareness is practiced, made a habit, then it becomes painful and tedious; but awareness cannot be practiced, cannot be controlled, cannot be made into a conflict, a discipline -and that is the beauty of it. You are aware, or you are not aware. So, anything which is practiced becomes a boredom, tedious, painful, it means the exertion of will and effort, which creates distortion. Now, awareness is not that kind of thing at all. What is awareness, what is it to be aware? To be aware of things about you outwardly, of colour, of faces, of the sunset, of the shadows, of birds in flight, of the restless sea, of the trees in the wind - to be aware of all that is mere awareness of the superficial. You don't condemn a bird in flight, you merely observe it. But the moment you become aware of your inward nature, then you begin to condemn, you are incapable of looking at it without condemnation or justification. But to understand, there must be no condemnation or justification. So, to be aware, just to observe your thoughts, just to know what you are thinking and feeling without condemnation, without defence, without justification - surely, to be simply aware is not tedious, is not painful. But if you say, `I must be aware in order to get a result', then it becomes tedious. If you try to be aware in order to eradicate anger, jealousy, possessiveness, or whatever it be, then it becomes painful. Such awareness is not awareness. That is merely a process of introspection, trying to become something. In awareness, there is no becoming, but merely observation, a silent observation - as when you visit the cinema and see the film. Now, if you can observe, if you can be aware of yourself in action, in movement, without identification, then you will find that there is an extensional awareness. It begins, as I said, with superficial things. Then, as you go deeper and deeper, there is wide, extensional awareness. That awareness is necessary, because in that awareness all the hidden layers, all the hidden intimations, come into being. As there is deeper and wider, more extensional awareness, the intimations, the conflicts of the hidden, are dissolved; and then you will find there comes creative emptiness. This is all a total process, not a step-by-step process; because, in awareness, there is neither beginning nor ending. It is one whole process. The moment you observe a problem without condemnation, there is bound to be passive awareness; and when there is passive awareness, there is dissolution of the problem. That is, in passive awareness there is creative stillness, creative emptiness. Then, in that creative emptiness, reality comes into being, which dissolves the problem. So, where there is pain conflict, a tedious feeling, boredom, there is no awareness, but only a dull mind. Whereas, contrary to dullness, in awareness there is heightened sensitivity, and passive awareness is creative. The highest form of thinking is negative thinking; and when there is complete cessation of thought, when there is that passivity which is not a sleepy state, then there is creative being. I don't know if you have noticed that when the mind is full of problems, when the mind is full of thoughts, there is no creation. Only when the mind is empty, when the mind is still, when it has no problem, when it is alertly passive - only in that emptiness is there creation. Creation can only take place in negation, which is not the opposite of positive assertion. I am not using the word `negation' as the opposite of the positive. Being nothing is not the antithesis of being something. Being nothing is not related to being something. When the `being something' ceases completely, then there is nothingness. Only when all the problems which mind creates have ceased, when the mind is nothing, empty - which is not induced by discipline, by control - , only then does that passive, alert awareness come into being. And passivity must exist if a problem is to be dissolved. You can understand a problem only when you don't condemn it, when you don't justify it, when you are capable of looking at it silently, and that is not possible when you are seeking a result. A problem exists only in the search for a result; and the problem ceases if there is no search for a result. When the mind is silently observing, and therefore passive, there comes creative being, and creative being is a constant renewal. It is not continuity, it is a timeless state of being. In that state alone can there be creation, and therefore that state alone is revolution. Question: What do you mean by love? Krishnamurti: Now, again we are going to discover by understanding what love is not; because, as love is the unknown, we must come to it by discarding the known. Surely, the unknown cannot be discovered by a mind that is full of the known. So, what we are going to do is to find out the values of the known, look at the known; and when that is looked at purely, without condemnation, the mind becomes free from the known, and then we shall know what love is. So, we must approach love negatively, not positively. Now, what is love with most of us? When we say we love somebody, what do we mean? We mean we possess that person. From that possession arises jealousy, because ff I lose him or her what happens? I feel empty, lost, Therefore, I legalize possession. I hold him or her. From holding, possessing that person, there is jealousy, there is fear, and all the innumerable conflicts that arise from possession. Surely, is not love, is it? Don't shake your heads in assent; for if you agree with me, you are merely agreeing verbally, and such agreement has no meaning at all. You can agree only when you don't possess your property, your wife, your ideas. Obviously, love is not sentiment. To be sentimental, to be emotional, is not love, because sentimentality and emotion are mere sensations. A religious person who weeps about Jesus or Krishna, about his guru or somebody else, is merely sentimental, emotional. He is indulging in sensation, which is a process of thought, and thought is not love. Thought is the result of sensation. So, the person who is sentimental, who is emotional, cannot possibly know love. Again, arn't we emotional and sentimental? Sentimentality, emotionalism, is merely a form of self-expansion. To be full of emotion is obviously not love, because a sentimental person can be cruel when his sentiments are not responded to, when his feelings have no outlet. An emotional person can be stirred to hatred, to war, to butchery. And a man who is sentimental, full of tears for his religion, surely such a man has no love. Obviously there is no love when there is no real respect, when you don't respect another, whether he is your servant or your friend. Have you not noticed that you are not respectful, kindly, generous, to your servants, to people who are so-called `below' you? But you have respect for those above, for your boss; for the millionaire, for the man with a large house and a title, for the man who can give you a better position, a better job, from whom you can get something. But you kick those below you, you have a special language for them. So, where there is no respect, there is no love; where there is no mercy, no pity, no forgiveness, there is no love. And as most of us are in this state, we have no love. We are neither respectful nor merciful nor generous. We are possessive, full of sentiment and emotion which can be turned either way: to kill, to butcher, or to unify over some foolish, ignorant intention. So, how can there be love? You can know love only when all these things have stopped, come to an end, only when you don't possess, when you are not merely emotional with devotion to an object. Such devotion is a supplication, selecting something in a different form. A man who prays does not know love. Since you are possessive, since you seek an end, a result, through devotion, through prayer, which makes you sentimental, emotional, naturally there is no love; and obviously there is no love when there is no respect. You may say that you have respect, but your respect is for the superior, it is merely the respect that comes from wanting something, the respect of fear. If you really felt respect, you would be respectful to the lowest as well as to the so-called highest; and since you haven't that, there is no love. How few of us are generous, forgiving, merciful! You are generous when it pays you, you are merciful when you can see something in return. So, when these things disappear, when these things don't occupy your mind, and when the things of the mind don't fill your heart, then there is love; and love alone can transform the present madness and insanity in the world - not systems, not theories, Either of the left or of the right. You really love only when you do not possess, when you are not envious, not greedy, when you are respectful, when you have mercy and compassion, when you have consideration for your wife, your children, your neighbour, your unfortunate servants who have not a day off, who have become your slaves. When you are respectful to them, not merely to your gurus, to the man above you, then you will know love. That love alone can transform the world, that alone can fill the world with mercy, with beauty. But if you fill your hearts with the things made by the mind or by the hand, then there is no love; and since your hearts are filled by these things, you are in constant battle with each other. But if you realize, if you are aware of all these things without coming into conflict with them, then there is a freedom, and in that freedom there is love which is not a theory. You can experience love with its blessings, with its perfume, with its loveliness, only when 'you' cease to be, when `you' cease to achieve, to become something; and such love alone can transform the world. Question: May we request you to state clearly whether there is God or not? Krishnamurti: Sir, why do you want to know? What difference does it make if I state it clearly or not? Either I will confirm you in your belief, or shake you in your belief. If I confirm your belief, then you will be pleased, and you will go on with your sweet, ugly ways. If I disturb you, you will say, `Well, that is not important', and unfortunately you will still carry on as you are. But why do you want to know? Surely, that is more important than to find out whether there is God or not. To know God, Sir, to know truth, you must not seek it. If you seek it, then you are escaping from what is; and that is why you are asking whether there is God or not. You want to get away from your suffering, escape into an illusion. Your books are full of gods, every temple is full of images made by the hand; but there is no God, because they are all escapes from your actual suffering. To find reality, or rather for reality to come into being, suffering must cease; and merely to search for God, for truth, for immortality, is an escape from suffering. But it is more pleasant to discuss whether there is God or not than to dissolve the causes of suffering, and that is why you have innumerable books discussing the nature of God. The man who discusses the nature of God, does not know God; because, that reality cannot be measured. It cannot be caught in the garland of words. You cannot catch the wind in your fist; you cannot capture reality in a temple, nor in puja, nor in innumerable ceremonies. They are all escapes, like taking a drink. You take a drink, get drunk, because you want to escape; similarly, you go to a temple, do puja, perform rituals, or whatever it is you do - they are all escapes from that which is. And that which is, is suffering, the constant battle with oneself, and therefore with another; and until you understand and transcend that suffering, reality cannot come into being. So, your enquiry whether there is God or not, is vain, it has no meaning, it can but lead to illusion. How can a mind that is caught in the turmoil of daily sorrow and suffering, in ignorance and limitation, know that which is illimitable, unutterable? How can that which is a product of time, know the timeless? It cannot. Therefore, it cannot even think about it. To think about truth, to think about God, is another form of escape; for God, truth, cannot be caught by thought. Thought is the result of time of yesterday, of the past; and being the result of time, of the past, being the product of memory, how can thought find that which is eternal, timeless, immeasurable? As it cannot, all that you can do is to free the mind from the thought process; and to free the mind from the thought process, you must understand suffering, and not escape from it - suffering not only on the physical level, but at all the different levels of consciousness. That means being open, vulnerable to suffering, not defending yourself against suffering but living with it, embracing it, looking at it. Because, you are suffering now. You are suffering from morning till night, with an occasional ray of sunshine, with an occasional gap in the cloudy sky. Since you are suffering, why not consider that, why not go into it fully, deeply, completely, and resolve it? And that is not difficult. The search for God is much more difficult, because it is the unknown, and you cannot search for the unknown. But you can seek out the cause of suffering and eradicate it by understanding it, being aware of it, not running away from it. Since you have run away from suffering through various escapes, look at all those escapes, put them away and come face to face with suffering. In understanding that suffering, there is a release. Then the mind becomes free from all thought, it is no longer the product of the past. Then the mind is tranquil, without any problem; it is not made tranquil, but is tranquil, because it has no problem, it is no longer creating thought. Then thought has ceased - thought which is memory, which is the accumulation of experience, the scars of yesterday; and when the mind is utterly quiet, not made quiet, reality comes into being. That experience is the experience of reality, not of illusion, and such experience gives a blessing to man. Truth, love, is the unknown, and the unknown cannot be captured by the known. The known must cease for the unknown to be; and when the unknown comes into being, there is a blessing. March 28, 1948 FOREWORD BY R. MADHAVACHARI MADRAS APRIL 1948 During Krishnamurti's stay at Madras in April 1948, several persons interested in his teachings met him regularly and discussed with him various problems about Life and Reality, which affect them in their daily life, with a view to understanding those problems and discovering what they were seeking in life. These notes were prepared by me at the conclusion of each meeting. They are now published at the request of friends who consider them to be a help in understanding Krishnamurti's teachings. These notes are not authentic, nor have they been read or revised by Krishnamurti. R. MADHAVACHARI. MADRAS 1ST GROUP DISCUSSION 11TH APRIL, 1948 As these discussions will be for about three weeks, I would like, if I may, to go to the root of the problem direct and not beat about the bush. To deal with the problem directly, we must take a general view of the world's affairs; then, we can see the deterioration of the world's condition. Obviously, a social revolution, a revolution in the values of society, cannot take place; when we attempt to change society, such a change will only be a modified continuity. So, as long as we are looking to a social structure to be changed, including the leftist revolution in the outward structure of society, such a change will not be a revolution. Society is always static; only in the individual can there be a radical revolution. Leftists, Marxists, and Socialists regard revolution as an outward transformation; this really is mere change or modified continuity which implies a pattern, adjustment to a pattern, or a preconceived pattern which needs adjustment; therefore, it is not a revolution. Every social change which we all want, is only a modified continuity of 'what is' and not a revolution. Question: Will you please explain modified continuity? Krishnamurti: Change implies modified continuity. What do you mean by change? It is a change from this to that. To bring about a change implies an end in view. I am this and I want to be that. The society is this and I want it to be changed into that. Therefore, change is preconceived, an action within a pattern; it is only a modification in the same field. When we say we want a change, a social change, does it not imply a change towards the known - intellectual, factual or utopian? Is that a radical transformation, or a continuation in the same field though in a different direction? Question: Is not a revolution a hop within the same framework? Krishnamurti: Surely not. What do we mean by change? When the Communists, Fascists or Socialists demand a change, what do they mean? Any change of pattern of action is still within the known pattern and therefore a modified continuity. Our problem is therefore entirely different. Transformation is not modified continuity but quite a different process. To understand what complete transformation means, we must understand what change means. Question: Is change what is intended by a human being or what happens without any intention on the part of man, just like that due to industrialization for instance? Can't we have a change of the outer without a change in the inner? Krishnamurti: Any change which we desire is a modified continuity of the same thing as now exists. For instance, when we deliberately set about to change the present system in regard to the outer conditions leading to war, is not all such change the same thing continued in a different form? We want a continuity of what we like and a discontinuity of what we do not like. Question: Is biological growth a change? Krishnamurti: The growth of a tree is not a change but a growth of the same tree. Obviously, we are referring only to changes due to human action and not to what occurs in nature. Mere social transformation, i.e., changing the outer into something else is not a revolution; it is merely a change which is modified continuity. Society is static. The individual only is creative and not society. When the individual thinks in terms of change, change being only modified continuity, whatever the individual creates will be static. The moment an act is complete, it is static. If the relationship between two individuals be mere static adjustment, it produces a society which is static. If the relationship is revolutionary and based on a different sense of values, then the individual will be creative. Therefore, continuous revolution is in relationship with people; and one has to start with oneself, the individual, and not with the society. When one thinks of change of the society, such a change will only be a modification, however violent it may appear. This is what is taking place in the world. The opposite is invariably the continuity of the same in a different form, whether political or otherwise. Therefore, revolution can start only with the individual, with the 'me'. Question: Is the opposite a continuity of 'what is'? Krishnamurti: I do not want to go into this now. When we talk about social revolution, we have to understand what is meant by 'change'. For instance, the word 'cap' is called by different names in different countries; but, there is always a cap, as referent. Change implies that there is a referent. Therefore, whenever there is a referent, there must always be the known. How can the 'known' be changed except into the 'further known'? Question: So far as the individual is concerned, is not change modified continuity? Krishnamurti: An individual alone can be in a continuous state of revolution, but not society. Any change in society is only a modified continuity. Transformation must be always immediate and not left to time, i.e., to tomorrow. There is no transformation in time, but there is only modified continuity. Time cannot produce revolution or regeneration. Is not transformation the immediate question and cannot you and I immediately transform? If we cannot, what is it that prevents immediate transformation? To be transformed in the future is a contradiction. What prevents us from immediately transforming ourselves? We understand something now or never. Understanding is always in the Now and not in To-morrow. Why is that you and I are incapable of immediate transformation? What prevents this? Why do we not see this clearly? Question: Is there transformation even if we see things clearly? Krishnamurti: If I see a cobra clearly without any equivocation, do I touch it? I touch it only when I am doubtful about it being a cobra. Why have we not transformed ourselves? Transformation is creative activity. Why is it that we do not see problems that are vital as clearly as we see a poisonous snake? If we see a problem vitally and recognise its immense significance, then, we shall act properly in relation to war, nationalism, in our relationship to nature, indi- viduals, ideas and problems of daily existence. Therefore, either we are unaware and therefore accustomed and immune to poison by constant habit, or we do not want to see. There is no transformation except Now. I say it is possible to transform completely now and not tomorrow. Action on the basis of a belief in reincarnation is only postponement. The real problem is why do we not transform now? Let us understand this now. Obviously, society is crumbling and deteriorating rapidly. Here, we are talking about change, etc. But we are not creative; we are not the architects designing a structure away from all this. To do this, we must examine the causes of the present chaos. We must be the architect, the contractor, etc., for raising this new structure. To do this, we must have complete transformation now -transformation in values, in outlook and in our whole being. I have seen this happening. Why are you not transformed? Is it because you have been so long living with the cobra that you are immune to its poison? Question: How do you find the true cause, not mere intellectualisation, of there being no immediate transformation? Krishnamurti: One reason is that you are immune to the poison. I recognize that immediate transformation is the only solution of all problems - not tomorrow, not reincarnation; time does not produce transformation but only brings about continuity. Transformation is essential and can take place only now. What is it that prevents that marvellous thing happening to me, from my seeing the immense significance of transforming immediately? Let us be definite about this. We cannot leave this at loose ends. We must act. The problem is "I see the importance of transformation. Transformation can take place only now and not tomorrow. Why is there not that extraordinary drive that sees things clearly and sets about to act"? I know instances of immediate transformation. There was a person who made an enormous amount of money by playing cards. After hearing my talks recently, that person gave up cards-playing immediately and without any struggle. Question: Why did not that person see this earlier? Krishnamurti: What are the causes that prevent your seeing the obvious things that drop away? What is the element that is required to say "I see it and it is gone". One of the factors is that I must be aware I am suffering, I am in anxiety, in a state of confusion and of fear. To recognize that transformation is essential, I must not be self- contented. There must be real discontent. It must have a quality which is not mere change. If you see a cobra and know it to be a cobra, you have an instantaneous response. There is the bodily response to the poison and you jump. It is not out of fear that you avoid the poison; but, the understanding of the nature of the poison keeps you away from the poison. Most of us are afraid. Is not fear one of the principal causes that prevent transformation? You are afraid and therefore there is no transformation. Question: Everyone coming here wants transformation. I, for one, have no fear. Yet, there is no transformation. Why is this? Question: Is it laziness? Is there a real desire for transformation? Krishnamurti: Do you not know the gravity of the present structure of society, its disintegration, its ruthlessness, etc.? Question: Yes, that is why we want to do something in the service of others. Krishnamurti: Service of others is really a foolish idea. What prevents transformation? Love is the only thing that transforms. You can have actual experience of this. Have you not fallen in love with some one? Have you not been spontaneously affectionate with another? Question: We have been affectionate to others in our house; yet, there has been no transformation? Krishnamurti: You do not see the cobra, you do not see that you are on the edge of a precipice. Is that the trouble? Why do you not see it? Are not all writers, historians, etc., shouting that the end of the world is near? Yet, are you not enclosing yourselves in ideas like 'reincarnation', 'the Masters are looking after us', etc., and therefore are you not blind to the world and to your relationship with others? You, therefore, say "these are inevitable but everything will be alright soon or sometime later on". Question: We see all the chaos but we feel helpless. Krishnamurti: The confusion is so colossal that our individual acts can obviously do nothing - for instance, against the use of the atomic bomb. But, I, an individual, can create a structure away from all this confusion. We cannot persuade Truman and other big politicians to do what we think is correct; but we, though we are small people, can start somewhere else, i. e., with ourselves. Question: Is it any use doing this in relation to the coming war, etc.? Krishnamurti: You cannot prevent the world and the people going their own way. The same pattern can be seen in the case of all big leaders - Kaiser, Hitler, Stalin, etc. Can I persuade them by prayers or by appeals to them? No. Knowing the inevitableness of all this, I will not touch them. The simple way is for me to go my own way; I will transform myself. So far, I have also been contributing to the confusion and to the chaos in the world; now, I will withdraw. Question: Does this not mean isolating ourselves from the world? Krishnamurti: No. What is isolation? Are you not now isolated in your relationship with your wife, etc.? Do you know them? Is this not creating the mess in the world? If you read any paper or magazine, you will find that, in the world, there is steady deterioration. For instance, in the business world, there is black-marketing, no morality, etc. Question: How can all this be changed? Krishnamurti: It is not possible to change all this. Firstly, you must see that you cannot do anything with all this. You must see that all politicians are hankering after power, etc., and that this is leading to war. Seeing this clearly, you will say "I will not hanker after power"; and that hankering will drop away. Now, why do I not do this? I see what the politicians dabbling in power-politics are doing. I see that wherever there is search for power, there must be ruthlessness, war. I also see I am seeking power. Then, why do I not drop this domination over my wife? Power is very destructive, is very evil. Then, what is preventing one from dropping this, one's domination over one's wife, etc.? Question: I am not conscious of this, my seeking domination over others. Krishnamurti: By becoming aware of your attitude to your wife and to others, will you not drop it immediately and not in the next life? Either you are unaware of your seeking power or you like power; therefore, you do not want to drop it. If you like power, it vitalises you and you do not mind its effects on others. Power ultimately leads to destruction and deteriorates the relationship between people. I like power even in my little home, and I pursue it even if it brings about chaos and destruction. I am conscious I am seeking power; I want it and I am deliberately in it; therefore, there is no problem. Question: I want the gratification from power. If something else would give that gratification, I will follow that also. Krishnamurti: You want power without paying for it; you had better be conscious of this without fooling about with spirituality, etc., be conscious of power and its consequences. You like power with its pleasure and with its pain; therefore, you do not want transformation. You all want to salve Mammon with God. Why not be honest and say " I want to be a leader; so, I will go after power"? Question: Everyone is going after power. Why? Krishnamurti: I shall show you the futility of this. Will you drop it? You have to see the futility of pursuing power. When you are seeking power, there must be ruthlessness which involves pain. When you watch this carefully, you will see it leads to war. Question: When I see this leading to war, I drop it. Krishnamurti: When you know that power leads to ultimate destruction, why do you not drop it? You say that "destruction may happen long after now and, in the meanwhile, what does it matter so long as I get my satisfaction for 5, 10 or 30 years?" What is that mentality which says so? That is what Napoleon and all the warmongers did. You are also saying the same thing. How can such a mentality approach Truth - a mentality which says "I want to get this whatever it may cost"? I cannot understand myself if I am tethered to anything -property, idea or thing. If I want to explore the South Seas, I must leave Madras. I am tethered when I say "what does it matter so long as I get what I want." At least, this is honest as I do not quote scriptures in support of what I do. A mind that says "I want to understand Reality and I am seeking Truth" and yet is tethered, is a dishonest mind. Thus, we discover that there cannot be transformation if there is no honest thinking. Why is my mind dishonest? Question: I want to seek my own ends; but I cover this up by spiritual ideas, etc. Krishnamurti: Why do you do this? Why can't you say "I want power"? One reason is 'bread and butter depends'. Question: Why is not the mind honest at least with itself, though not in regard to others? Krishnamurti: I am not face to face with myself. I do not know the result of my facing myself is going to be. There are so many different masks. One day I am greedy, another day I am generous and charitable, then I want to be a Viceroy, etc. Again, the Higher Self is also an invention. Which is the 'me' to which I have to be honest? I am broken up into different parts. Unless I am neurotic, I cannot say definitely "I am this". There are many contradictions in me. In a state of contradiction, I cannot be honest. I can be honest only when the contradiction in my thinking ceases. To think truly, I must get rid of contradiction. Do you know that you are in contradiction? Question: At any one instant, there is no contradiction. Contradiction arises only when I analyse the past and the present. Krishnamurti: There is a contradiction always going on in us. Questioner: Are we aware of our contradiction even when we are in contradiction? Krishnamurti: Only honest direct understanding will lead to the ceasing of contradiction. To understand something, I must give my full attention to it, which is possible when there is no contradiction in me. Question: What is contradiction? Question: Two inconsistent desires? Krishnamurti: Can desires be contradictory? Is not the very nature of desire contradictory? There is only one desire which takes 2 forms, one desire creating oppositions. Am I in contradiction? I want power and I know the poison of power. I want to love but actually I hate. Are you aware of this state in your daily existence? I now see that only very clear, honest thinking can bring about immediate transformation. One of the factors preventing this is this life of contradiction. We are in contradiction, for instance, when we want to go somewhere else and yet we want to stay here. In that state, choice exists; and so, as long as choice exists, there must be conflict. Choice exists because you are confused. There is no choice when you see a thing clearly. Contradiction is when I do not see clearly, when choice comes into action. When I see clearly what I want to do, there is no choice and no contradiction. So, as long as I am choosing, there is contradiction and there is dishonesty in thinking. Do you agree to that? Your whole life is based on choice - between the Real and the Unreal, between Good and Evil etc.; and therefore, there is contradiction. Question: Are we not always in daily life, if we are intelligent, making a choice? Krishnamurti: You make a choice only when you do not know what to do. For factual things, you must choose. But, choice in psychological things is when you are confused. You do not choose between pleasure and pain but you pursue pleasure. A mind which is confused and choosing is a dishonest mind, i.e., doing a thing not knowing what it is doing. Question: Dishonesty implies a standard of morality. Krishnamurti: No. Choice exists only in matters that are irrelevant or are not clearly seen. Clear perception is honest thinking. As long as there is choice, there is confusion. Do you ever psychologically choose? Question: Yes; when I want to earn money or when I renounce something. Krishnamurti: No. You are seeking pleasure whether it comes through earning money or renouncing something. Therefore, there is no choice, psychologically. I do not see clearly because I am choosing. Psychologically, I pursue pleasure. As long as I am pursuing pleasure and using wrong words, I am deceiving myself - for instance, by saying "I serve the world," "I serve the poor" etc. All this is based on pleasure. I must not deceive myself in any way. I must be very clear in my feelings, thoughts and actions. Then only there can be immediate transformation. Do you not get what you want if that desire is not lukewarm? You envy Napoleons and Stalins who went ruthlessly and wholeheartedly after what they wanted. Spiritual leaders also have acted likewise, though with kid gloves. Dishonesty is lack of perception, avoidance of looking at things as they are. We have now come to this point: Transformation is not a matter of words or explanations; it comes instantaneously when we see things clearly. When one gives up property or good income, how does one do it? Have you given up anything instantaneously? Question: I dropped 'belief' and 'authority' after I heard your talk on 'fear', at No. 14, Sterling Road. Krishnamurti: Why do you want to give up something, for getting rid of fear or on seeing it as it is? You dropped because you were face to face with the problem and there was no retreat. You get rid of authority when you face the thing directly. When you face it, you see the crooked action and it drops away. Why is it that you do not drop all that divides, conditioned thinking? Because you do not see that it is poisonous and because you do not give your full attention to it, you tend to slur over it. Take war, for instance. You know all the causes, the opposites of ideologies. Yet, you all play with war. If you give your complete attention to war, you will not play with war. There is no transformation now because your attention is not given; you think you have too may commitments and by such thinking you deceive yourselves. If we focused our attention on one thing and completely understood it, our mind is unburdened and is capable of looking at things directly; we would then understand anything psychological, and there would be instantaneous transformation now. When we do not read the label clearly, we drink the poison and suffer the consequences. We can read the label only when we are attentive. One of our difficulties is we like to be lazy and we are inattentive in regard to things that do matter. Question: Can we help it? Krishnamurti: If I offer you something, will you take it? Take, for instance, a doctor. Will it be enough if he merely put up a signboard? Must there not be a patient? There must be a patient and also a doctor; otherwise, the profession ceases. If I am a patient, I will not leave the doctor till I am well. Is not that relationship essential? Question: The disease may be incurable. Question: Even then, you go to the doctor. How can you suppose you are incurable before you consult a doctor? Krishnamurti: Between the doctor and the patient, there must be mutual affection, not respect; so also between you and me. When you love somebody, then there is open receptivity, communion between both; there is understanding. This affection is not because he is going to cure me nor because I want to be cured. Because there is no affection wherever we are which means love, there is no immediate transformation. It is that element which is missing in all of us. Therefore, there is no real communication between us, but only verbal. We are on the edge of things and not in the centre. When there is love, there are no sentiments and no emotions. Question: Apparently, we do not know love then. Krishnamurti: You are going to know it. There is no flame without smoke. April 11, 1948 MADRAS 2ND GROUP DISCUSSION 13TH APRIL, 1948 We were talking about the importance of immediate transformation and about the things that prevent us from radical regeneration. We were discussing the importance of the individual and his relationship with the world; how when there is a contradiction, there cannot be honest thinking; and how real understanding brings about transformation; and also, that love is not sentiment or emotion. We must find out for ourselves the truth about the individual and his relation to the world, how the transformation of the individual immediately affects the world in which he lives. The world we live in is the world of our immediate relationship with our family, our boss, our cook etc., and not with a geographical world. If you can transform intrinsically, then there is sure to be an immediate transformation, not superficially but deeply, in the relationship in your world. Will not this effect produce a revolution in your relationship? Is it not important to understand the necessity of individual transformation which will affect the world in which you live? Is that not a practical way of affecting the world you live in? In confronting the war with its miseries, the limitations imposed by national frontiers, the economic confusion, the vast complexity, we feel frustrated with the enormity of the problem; but that frustration is a false response. You are not called upon to deal with the problems of America and Europe. Your talk about all this is mere gossip. You may rebel against atom bombs etc., you can talk gossip about it and about what others say about it. But, you cannot do anything about atom bombs. You and I cannot do anything about them. They are not our problems. But, you and I can do directly something in the world in which we live, by transforming ourselves. So the individual transformation is the only solution for this chaos. Individual transformation alone will lead to other individuals transforming themselves and this will bring about a revolution in thought and therefore in action. This means you will be free of all organizations, systems, beliefs. You cannot rely on these absurdities, as you know it to be futile and empty. If this is clear we can proceed further. Do you see the truth of it? There can be transformation in the world only when there is regeneration of the individual. Mass action is therefore fallacious. The crowd, the mob, is invented by the politician. There is mass psychology which is used by clever people, but there is no such thing as the mass. Question: There seems to be a general idea that unless the mass changes, there is no use of any individual working. Krishnamurti: Are you caught up in the idea that individual action is without meaning unless there is a mass action? Mere belief is sluggishness indulged in in a hot climate. Is mass action the only action? Is there the mass, the crowd? Groups can be influenced, infuriated to act - Hindus to kill all Muslims and Muslims to kill all Hindus. Mass is composed of individuals and individuals can be persuaded, regimented to accept nationalism and to kill others. The action of the mass is thus influenced. If you begin to think, to be aware, to question, you cease to be the mass. When you do not accept authority, tradition, belief, then you become an individual; otherwise, you are one of a conglomeration of people driven. If it is so, then all our actions must correspondingly change. It is a fallacy to think that there can be no radical transformation in the world unless there is mass action. Label is the mass. The mass may be killed but it is difficult to kill an individual. When you look at another individual as an individual and not as a mass, your action is different; this means a radical revolution in your ways of thinking. You are an individual seeking the truth for itself and therefore you are inviting an infinite lot of trouble. If you really have an inward revolution, your ways of behaviour to your family and to others will be transformed. We discussed whether contradiction can lead to honesty of thought. There can be immediate transformation only when there is clear, honest perception of the problems. Is not our living in contradiction one of our difficulties - opposing desires, opposing demands? Therefore, we never see the problem as it is and we give it a different interpretation from what it is. Why do we live in contradiction? Are we aware we live in contradiction? We talk about peace and anything we do is towards war. We talk about brotherhood and we have castes, classes and titles. We want physical security and we do everything to destroy that security. We stand for unity and brotherhood yet we are exclusive in various ways. Question: What is it that destroys security? Krishnamurti: Nationalism destroys physical security. It brings about war. Everything we do psychologically is against peace. Question: When we jump out of our state of contradiction, will there be honest thinking? Or, must we isolate ourselves? Krishnamurti: Are you aware that you are in contradiction? You cannot call yourself a nationalist and at the same time talk of peace. When property is used for self-expansion, it leads to hatred. It is a contradiction. When you have particular beliefs, can you maintain real brotherhood? Question: Please expand the ideas about property? Krishnamurti: I need a little property. It is not a pursuit of exclusion. But the psychological expansion through property leads to hatred. Question: I may not, but another may seek self-expansion. What to do then? Krishnamurti: Then you will not cause hatred. You will start a new culture. If you really enquire into the causes why there is no immediate transformation, then you will see. Question: Where is contradiction in seeking self-expansion through property? Krishnamurti: As I said, seeking security through property leads to hatred and therefore there will be no peace. As we live in contradiction in different ways, through organizations, through rituals etc., we do everything to destroy affection. If that is so, we must first be aware of it and put an end to contradiction. We cannot jump out of it, it is not a net. We must become conscious of our thoughts and actions and become intelligent about every one of our activities. This is really difficult in a hot climate, where there are many things preventing clear, honest thinking. If you want to think clearly, you must have sufficient food but no indulgence. Contradiction has a great deal to do with immediate transformation. This means that we must focus our attention on everything we do. This is very difficult. We eat food placed before us on a feast-day, without thinking. This has direct relationship with our daily life. You must have a clear swift mind to follow this clearly. You cannot indulge as you like. Contradiction is one of the hindrances to transformation as it will not allow any moment of full attention on something directly. See what happens when we are voluntarily or spontaneously giving our attention to something, without seeking a result -examining a human problem. The mind is then in an extraordinary state, passive, pliable and capable of seeing clearly. Such a state is not possible when there is contradiction. You know for yourself inwardly when you are not living in a state of contradiction, when you are in a state of integration. Why is there this contradiction? Is it not because you have never thought about a problem completely to the end? If you have really thought out a belief, then there will be no contradiction about your analysis of the problem. You will then be so swift in perception that you will see clearly. Question: Has this not something to do with capacity? Krishnamurti: No. Only a few have capacity; capacity is a gift. You want to know if we can do this even when we have not got any special capacity. Have we not got intelligence to understand? When we want something, we go after it. Now, you want to live in a state in which there is no contradiction. If you really see that a mind in contradiction cannot see honestly, then you pursue every talk alertly and see where the contradiction lies and so on, till there is no contradiction. You can either shut your eyes to your state of contradiction or you can be aware of the contradiction that exists. If you are aware, you go after every contradiction. You cannot do away with contradiction unless you are healthy physically, and you must become intelligent about everything you do. This has nothing to do with capacity. Question: Some are more aware and others less aware. Krishnamurti: Why compare yourself with others? You are this and why should you become that? To watch yourself from moment to moment, your thoughts and your feelings, does it mean capacity? Please try for yourself and experiment. Question: I want to try and therefore I want to get that capacity. Krishnamurti: Your desire for capacity is preventing experimentation. I am not interested in capacity. Question: How to try to be aware from moment to moment? Krishnamurti: Try to be conscious of, to know and to understand what you are doing. You want to know what to do to try. Audience: He must wake up. Audience: I feel I am aware of what I am doing. Krishnamurti: Are you? Are you aware of the contradiction? You go after a thing when you take interest in it. Do you understand your doing pooja, do you find the whole meaning of it, i.e., whether you do it on authority or because your family likes it or because it gives you sensation or a self-hypnosis or an emotional kick? This finding of the whole meaning of what you do, is what is meant by being aware. Question: The fundamental urge is to seek happiness. As long as it gives me satisfaction, is it not happiness? Krishnamurti: Then, what is your problem? Is it for satisfaction to continue? You can take a drink and be blind to the world, and you can think you are happy. But, the morning after the drink, you pay for it. You cannot maintain the immediate pleasure always. It is not a question of capacity or gift. On the contrary, we can all do this. Only we must take interest in it, experiment with it and go at it seriously. Asking for a way, etc., is just postponement. A contradictory mind cannot have honest thought. You must have honest direct thinking to bring about transformation. A simple man does not live in a state of contradiction. Simplicity of heart and mind is the thing to transform you from moment to moment. We are all simple outwardly but complicated inwardly. Simplicity must begin at the psychological and not at the outward end. Question: When we see the contradiction, we are lost in positive or negative thinking. Krishnamurti: When you see the contradiction you will not be lost. You go into the problem, look at it and then see what is. Question: I am not aware of any contradiction. Krishnamurti: That is it. You can be aware of contradictions only when you are alert; then only you can go into the contradictions. Question: I don't see any contradiction but I pursue what I like. Krishnamurti: If you do not see any contradiction, it does not mean that there is no contradiction. You can know for yourself whether you are in a state of contradiction or not. If there is no contradiction, your mind will be still, quiet. Apparently your mind is not quiet, but restless. To know you, I must look at you and focus my attention on you without being distracted. There is no exclusiveness in awareness. Question: I don't understand you. Krishnamurti: I don't want to go into it now. Attention is not exclusive. If I exclude, there is effort and effort leads to distortion. Awareness is not effort. When you go out for a walk what happens? You are receiving all the impressions, about birds, people, cars, etc., if you are alert and if you are not immersed in a problem. You can give your attention to any one of these things and yet be receptive to the other impressions also. The mind, if not drugged by a problem, is receiving impressions; in that state of receptivity, one object, out of all the many, can be looked at more closely. If I have a problem and concentrate on it through effort, it is exclusive. Through exclusion, I cannot understand it. Through exclusion, I miss something which may help me to understand it. I must come to the problem without a sense of exclusion; which means, I must be open all round to any impression with regard to that problem, to every movement of thought. When I examine any one part, I am not excluding anything else but I am sensitive to everything that may arise. For instance, I must listen to you and at the same time be alert to listen to what anyone else says and then find out the truth in everything that is said. Question: I am beginning to understand you. If all of us talk simultaneously can you listen? Krishnamurti: It is no possible even to hear clearly and listen to anyone if several of you talk at the same time. To be aware is to be open. Therefore, awareness is not a practice, it is not a habit. The moment I create a habit, it is exclusion. To be aware of my contradiction is not to have a screen between me and my contradiction, the screen of conclusion or answer. If I want to understand you, I must have no screen of prejudice between you and me. When I am aware of the screen, the screen is removed. I am open to find out in what way I am living in contradiction, which is different from not being in a state of contradiction. I am then inviting all the contradictions, including all those in the hidden layers of consciousness. Question: This means we must not approach a problem with a preconceived conception. Krishnamurti: Yes. It is difficult. You must free the mind from all conclusions. For this, we must be aware of the existence of conclusions. I am not open to you if I have prejudice against you. If I understand the prejudice and let it go away, then I am open. The problem will cease when the prejudices are removed. I have now discovered that a contradictory mind has no capacity to look directly, and it is a dishonest mind. To understand contradiction, I must be aware of the contradictions without any exclusion. Exclusion prevents understanding; therefore, concentration which is exclusion prevents understanding. All our attempts are made to concentrate. All this has got to be undone. Question: When you approach a problem without a screen, you say there is no problem. What does this mean? What is meant by justification and condemnation? Krishnamurti: Take any psychological problem. You always quote and get the screen between you and the problem. If the screen is removed, you see the problem clearly. Individual transformation brings about immediate revolution in the world in which we live. Individual revolution is of the highest importance and not mass revolution. The mass is only an invention of the capitalists and others; it does not exist. Question: If I am happy, how can the people who are here share it? Krishnamurti: If there is a smile, even an ignorant man responds. It is our conception that an ignorant man cannot be happy. When there is exclusion, there is no understanding. Only when there is passive alertness there is openness. A primary factor that brings about revolution, is love. Love is not sentiment, not emotion. It is sufficient if you are aware even momentarily. When you are aware you see great wisdom; then there is an interval and in that interval there is relaxation and it will be revealing. April 13, 1948 MADRAS 3RD GROUP DISCUSSION 16TH APRIL, 1948 We were discussing why it is not possible to bring about immediate transformation. In discussing it, the importance of the individual to society was clear enough. The modern tendency in the world's affairs is to neglect the individual and to think of the mass. If you examine the matter closely without any system or prejudice, you will find that the individual is the only entity and not the mass. The mass as such is a myth, though there is mass psychology. There is no honesty of thought where there is contradiction. Contradiction is a negation. Where there is negation there is no thought at all. When a man is in contradiction, though he thinks in a series of positive actions, his action is merely a negation. To bring about immediate transformation, there must be honesty of thought. Honesty of thought is not possible, if there is contradiction. Also, awareness is not concentration. Where there is concentration, there is no understanding but only exclusion. What is it that brings about a fundamental transformation? Transformation is not in the net of time. It is in the immediate and not in postponement. What is it that brings about a revolution of thought, not of ideas or opinions? Ideas and opinions create further ideas and opinions and therefore conflict. Do ideas bring about transformation? They may bring about a change or a modification of continuity. Do they bring about a fundamental revolution in man? If our minds are clouded, not clear, with regard to the means, the instruments of transformation, we cannot come to those things which really bring about transformation. Will ideas bring about an inward revolution? Mere outward change, however, social or utilitarian, is of little use. It is always the inner which overcomes the outer; the psychological motives, etc., alter the outward. What do we mean by ideas? Can the process of thought bring about transformation? Thought produces the idea. Can thought bring about transformation? You should see the importance of transformation. Transformation is necessary now because the whole structure of society is going to pieces. As it is essential to transform and as it is possible to transform immediately, what is it that will make us transform? Essentially, there must be honesty of thought; one must be honest to oneself. One knows clearly when one is off the beam of honesty. To know directly for oneself what one is thinking, this honesty is necessary. Question: Could we get clear ideas as to what thinking is? By thinking, do you mean reaching a conclusion? Is there any moment when the mind which is not leading to a conclusion, can be said to be thinking? Thought is a state in which one is transformed as clear thinking is possible only when we are not in contradiction. Krishnamurti: Where there is contradiction, there is no thought. What is the process of thinking? Audience: (1) Sifting of an evidence to reach a conclusion. Audience: (2) Not necessarily. Audience: (3) Thinking implies setting in motion the contents of the mind, preconceived notions etc. Audience: (4) Process of correlation is thinking. Krishnamurti: You say that thinking is a movement of various conclusions and memories, this putting in motion being due to a new challenge. Response is the movement of the mind in response to a challenge. Question: Thinking is response to challenge. This is a vague statement. If somebody misbehaves towards me, I slap him. This is my response; but this is not thinking. Krishnamurti: Process of discovering and experiencing as in Science- experiments, is it thinking? There is thinking only when there is a desire for a conclusion, for a solution, a remedy, an overcoming, a discipline. If there is experiencing and discovery, is it thinking? Question: In experiencing, this kind of correlated thinking stops. Krishnamurti: We investigate to find a solution for a cause, analysing, dissecting, examining, probing, thinking out logically from different sides etc., till we find a solution; this, we call thinking. Does this come into being when we are experiencing? Experience may be termed, recorded and kept in the memory. Thinking exists when there is investigation, enquiry and reaching a conclusion, - that is a way of finding a solution and answer. I think about something, I recollect. This is a process of association, investigation and finding out. Thinking out is always trying to find an answer. In that process of thinking I rely on my memory, factual as well as psychological. The response of memory in the process of enquiry, I call thinking. I have a problem. How do I think about it? I think about it in terms of memory or conclusion. Thinking starts with a response of memory towards a conclusion, an answer, searching out an issue. Factual memory is the memory of technique, of facts. Psychological memory is the memory of self-expansive continuity - me, mine, my house, my family - the accumulating factor, gathering, sustaining itself. We discussed this previously. The me, the I, the whole inward existence is memory. Without memory there would be no continuity to 'the me' from day to day. Thinking is the outcome of a series of conclusions, memories which we have stored up. When I think about a person, the thought is a conclusion or a picture of that person. Therefore, thinking is a series of responses of memory; it is always in the field of the conditioning. Thus, you have the three things: thinking, experiencing and discovery. Thinking we know now. Question: Thinking is response of memory. Cannot a conclusion be new? Krishnamurti: I am not sure it is. Thought is the product of conclusions, memories. Question: Darwin's thinking led to the discovery of the theory of evolution. Krishnamurti: How does a new theory come into being? Is it the result of thought, which is a conclusion of previous thoughts? Question: In Science, you can only arrive at truth of things by thinking. Krishnamurti: Do you? Do you not think up to a certain point and then you suddenly jump? Does that jumping-state come because of the thinking? What we are discussing is practical. Is thought essential to that state, when the new is perceived? Is a process of conclusions and their responses necessary before there is a jump into the new? Is the old the spring-board to the new? Question: Unless the mind has moved through the labyrinth of the old, we cannot see the new. Krishnamurti: When do you see a new clarity, a new meaning? Is it after serious thinking and as a result of such thinking? When does the new take place? I have thought about a problem within the field of conclusions, and I cannot solve it. Suddenly the flash comes when the mind ceases to worry. Would it not come if I had not worried? Question: If I have a conclusion not in the field of the known, the shifting to a different field is automatic. Is it ever possible to leave alone thought, till we are sure that there is nothing to be found? Question: (2) Is the process of thought essential for discovery? Would you say that a conclusion is not a discovery? Is it possible to reach a new conclusion without thinking? Krishnamurti: I have a problem and I search for the solution in the field of the known. I investigate into the field of the known and then when my minds is exhausted, I drop it. You say that it is necessary to exhaust the known before the new is perceived. Question: There can be application only of known facts in Science. Krishnamurti: The Scientist is dealing with the known and not the unknown. If there is a problem which cannot be dealt with in the field of conclusions, what do you do? Must we go to the field of formulas, conclusions and then get exhausted before we see the new? We understand a problem within the field of conclusions. It is simple. When the mind exhausts itself in the field of conclusions, it has dropped the problem; and then, the new comes in suddenly. You say that the new cannot come in without the previous state of investigation. Actually, you worry and worry; and suddenly you may get the new solution. You say that there must be previous investigation and examination of all the relevant facts before the new comes in. Question: A haphazard mind can never get anything new. Question: (2) What is a new conclusion? Krishnamurti: It is not really new but only a new view of the old. Do you not suddenly see something which is not a new arrangement or a new view of the old, but something entirely new? Which is true? A genius may learn a technique. All great artists and geniuses have a vision. They may learn a technique or develop their own technique. Does technique lead to genius? Question: Does effort lead to spontaneity? Krishnamurti: Effort can never lead to spontaneity. I have a problem which cannot be answered by merely readjusting an old answer, but which requires a completely new answer. We see that a mind that is seeking a conclusion for a problem gets a conclusion and goes on creating further problems. A mind which is still and is therefore open to the new does not need to go through these stages. We are caught either in conclusion or in readjustment of old values, and therefore we are unobservant of the new. The mind is still when it does not want a conclusion, when it is not seeking an answer. Does that stillness come into being through cultivation? Question: Supposing a man has no factual memory. Can he discover? Krishnamurti: If a man has no factual memory at all, he is not there. Is cultivation, processes of thinking, necessary for stillness? Can thought-process - investigating, re- sponses of conclusions, -give place to stillness? Stillness comes only when the thought-process comes to an end. The new is seen only when the mind is still. Question: Absence of thought-process is not necessary for stillness. There can be intelligent activity of mind which is not thinking - for instance, enquiring. Krishnamurti: Stillness is not the stillness of death. It is passive alertness. Question: When we are discussing, are we not thinking? Krishnamurti: In discussing, we have discarded conclusions and adjustment of values. We went through removing the old misconceptions. The process of thinking comes in verbalization. Question: The process of enquiry, discarding of ideas, is not this a hindrance to stillness? Krishnamurti: The stillness gives a new answer. For this, thinking is not necessary. We never thought about anything when we discovered that stillness is necessary. Actually, there is no process, we just see it. When once we see the necessity of stillness, we need not go through the thought-process. Question: Is not having a problem a process of thinking? Krishnamurti: Silence is when the thinker, the creator of the problem, ceases to think. We do not see things as they are, if we think in the field of the known. I discover and therefore experience. Where thought-process exists, there, there cannot be experiencing, discovery. Discovery takes place only when the thought-process ceases. When I see the necessity of silence, I do not need to cultivate silence. The moment we see that silence is essential, we are silent. Question: Intention to find the truth and the discovery of the truth can come only when there is silence. Do these not form a process? Krishnamurti: Intention is to discover. There is only a verbal process. I see the importance of silence. Is it a verbal process or an inward process? Question: Is not the thinking process a verbal process? Krishnamurti: Please investigate your own minds. What were you doing? Were you looking, investigating etc., or were you merely waiting? You did not start with a conclusion, nor were you seeking any conclusion. Question: Is not a discussion necessary for silence? Krishnamurti: I put a question to you. Are you thinking it out? Question: Discussion is a movement of the mind, positive or negative. Krishnamurti: Whether positive or negative, mind is thinking. Are we merely rationalizing? Seeing things directly, is it not different from thought-process. You saw the importance of silence and then you talk or verbalize about it. Through verbalizing you do not see. Thought- process begins only in communications with another, or in recording, or in experiencing. Thought-process is not necessary for experiencing. Experiencing is not a state of thinking. Question: You tell us something. We are experiencing it in the light of our memories and then we accept it. Is it not thinking? Krishnamurti: Does thinking lead you to discovery? The state of creative being does not come through technique. Thought-process does not produce transformation. You can jump into discovery. Question: Is not thought-process a hindrance to transformation? Krishnamurti: Certainly. If thought-process is not the catalyst what else is it? I can say this only when I know this for myself. Question: Learning and studying, is it thinking process or something different? Krishnamurti: Is there any thinking process in looking at facts? Thinking is in relating, modifying memory. Is learning necessary for this silence? Obviously not. When one is really seeking, there is no thought-process. For instance, we have not thought, but we have only communicated. Thought did not discover. The thought ceased and we discovered. The mind is the most extraordinary instrument we have; for instance, it deals with supersonic waves, curvature-space, etc., but, we do not know how to use this wonderful instrument. If you look at a problem properly, you can discover the new always. To discover the new, thought-process is not necessary at all; on the other hand, thought-process is a positive hindrance to discovery. April 16, 1948 MADRAS 4TH GROUP DISCUSSION 18TH APRIL, 1948 We have been discussing the importance of and the need for the inner transformation of the individual; when the individual transforms himself, there is a possibility of a revolution in the world to which he is in immediate relationship. Contradiction impedes the individual's thinking as it is a negation of thinking; contradiction is not only the superficial contradiction in every-day-existence but also the contradictions of the deeper layers of consciousness. Unless the individual unearths all these contradictions and eradicates them through awareness, there is no possibility of transformation. We also saw the possibility of the thought-process leading to the solution of a human problem. Every such problem is created by the thinker, and thought also is a product of the thinker. Therefore, thought-process cannot solve the problem. Transformation must be only in the Now and any postponement is not conducive to transformation, as such postponement is really avoidance of action What then will bring about the immediate transformation of the individual? What is it that is going to bring about an inner revolution, an immediate change in values and direc- tions? Will emotion, feeling, bring about this transformation? What do you mean by emotion? Is emotion love; is sentiment, feeling, related to love? What is the necessary impetus to bring about a revolution leading to individual action? Ideas breed ideas and may bring about superficial revolution; but, they do not lead to inner revolution. Yet the world is engaged in building up ideas, patterns of action, etc. Since ideas cannot bring about that inward regeneration, what is it that would bring it about? Does emotion or feeling, however vital, bring about this revolution? Is there a difference between thought and emotion? Is not emotion the same as thought? You can't think about love, but you can think about emotions or about the object of love, desire, sensation and feeling. Is that feeling love? This is important because through a process of understanding you will come to that which will lead to immediate transformation. Since thought is not the medium of transformation, will strong emotions bring about the same? Question: (1) Is not emotion a feeling of pleasure and pain in experiencing, as a response to a challenge? Is not emotion a sense of fervour? If there is no fervour, there is no possibility of alteration. Krishnamurti: How do you get fervour? Through ideation? Question: (2) I want to know if fervour is emotion. Krishnamurti: What is emotion? Audience: Emotions are the projections of one's perceptions in the mind, which quicken the sense from within. Question: (3) When I am angry, is it not emotion? Krishnamurti: Let us discover it together by going into it slowly and deeply. When do you have emotions? Question: From the mind, from external stimulants. Do we get this instantaneously? Krishnamurti: When do you feel emotions? Question: When you know that some person causes you pleasure or pain? Krishnamurti: When you see a glorious sunset, is there an emotion? You are only in a state of experiencing. It is only after that state when you record or when you communicate that experience to yourself or to another, you verbalise it. Look at a tree. When you come upon it afresh, what takes place? When do you say "I am feeling, I have strong sentiment"? Is not one part of it due to communication? Question: When you see a beggar, you may or may not feel an emotion. Krishnamurti: If that person is dull, he will not feel. When do you feel an emotion? Question: When you see a cobra and have a feeling of fear, there is no communication. Krishnamurti: Communication is one part of emotion. When I tell you I love you, I have an emotion. In communicating, that emotion becomes strengthened. When is it that we feel emotion? Question: When you see a cobra, the mind comes into action and also the process of memory. Then there is emotion of fear. Krishnamurti: I want to discover it. I should not make a definite statement. Question: Can you ever predict when you are having emotions? Krishnamurti: Have you ever had any emotions? Question: Yes, when I have disturbance of some sort or other. Krishnamurti: Are emotions the instruments of transformation? When do you feel emotion? You said, that, through external or inward stimulants, you get a feeling and by terming it you give it a permanency and strengthen it. By not terming it you diminish it. That emotion or feeling cannot bring about revolution. Will stimuli provide the neces- sary impetus? Will intensity of emotion transform? You say that great grief can transform an individual, or an ecstasy can. Can they bring about a sustained revolution of values? Can sorrow be the instrument of transformation? Can sorrow beget intelligence? We know that the shock of sorrow cannot bring about intelligence. Question: Intense feeling is not conducive to intelligence. Krishnamurti: You have not said what you mean by emotion. Question: Emotion is unreason, instinctive impulse. Krishnamurti: Can't you find out when you have an emotion and then start from there? Question: Emotion comes into being when you are empty. Krishnamurti: Is that so? My son dies. I have a strong emotion. Will that sorrow of loneliness, breaking of habit, bring about a revolution of values? Emotions, feelings of pleasure or pain, are first nervous responses, and then psychological responses - that is, responses of memory. Will grief modify your character? Will the shock of my son's death change my character? Question: Has not grief a chastening effect on the soul? Krishnamurti: Is grief a means of betterment of character, of the soul, of your being? Question: (2) Great grief can make a man a scoundrel also. Krishnamurti: Grief has no effect on character; but, the thought about grief has. My son dies and I think about it. It is my attitude towards that grief that makes a change in me. I go to a temple, I give up some old habits and seek an escape. This is not a real change or revolution. So, you must become aware that you are escaping; then only you will be in direct relationship and you will discover your state of being. Facing the actual state without seeking any escape from it leads to inner revolution. Devotion, various forms of emotion, sentimentality may modify the superficial structure of one's being but they cannot bring about transformation which is a complete alteration in direction. Why is it then that there is no transformation? Question: The desire to escape, which is an impediment. Krishnamurti: Yes, it is one factor. Dishonesty is another factor. Thought as a means to transformation is another. The idea of 'becoming', evolution, the giving of the time-interval is another. Transformation is a complete rebirth. It is not as a result of calculation. Have you not felt it when you have given up something? Why are we not creative? You have to discover for yourself what stands in the way of transformation. Thought-process is not conducive to transformation. Emotions, devotion, ecstasy, sentiment may bring about some change, but that change is not transformation. Is love emotion or sentiment? Can you think about love? You can think about emotions and therefore emotions are in the field of thought, such as, good and bad, worthy and unworthy emotions. Emotions are feelings, are names given by thought. I can think about objects of love but I cannot think about the state which I call love. I can think about the emotions. We may call these emotions love, though incorrectly. Emotions may be good or evil and they are only a different aspect of thought. Question: Love is not born of thought-process. Krishnamurti: You are right. Question: Thought is a weighing or re-arrangement. Are not emotions similar? Krishnamurti: I see you and I say "I am glad". The naming of the feeling comes when I want to communicate with you or to establish within myself what I felt. When there is a feeling, the naming of that feeling is the thought-process. Thought arises also from stimuli. Thought is a response of memory and memory is a record in which the names, terms, incomplete experiences, the result of stimuli, exist. Feeling is also the result of stimuli. So, what is the difference between thought and feeling? Question: Verbalised response of memory is thinking and feeling is the state before verbalising, before giving it a name; it is also a response. Krishnamurti: What is the difference between feeling and thinking? Is it not a device of the mind to separate these two so that it may deal with them? The feeling-process is perception, contact, sensation, desire and naming. We have already seen that there is no thinker without thought, there is no feeling without the feeler. Is there any difference between feeling and thinking? Question: Emotions exist when there is lack of understanding. Question: If somebody hits me, I understand it and I am angry with the hitter. Krishnamurti: We want to find out if thought is not emotion. Question: Is there not a difference between feeling and sensation? We touch a watch. The sensation is not feeling. Krishnamurti: When you think about a person, you have a sensation which is another form of feeling. You lay so much emphasis on devotion. Is not devotion the same as the thought-process? Question: Whenever we are either attracted or repulsed, there is thought and sensation. Krishnamurti: Yes. Similarly in emotion, there is attraction and repulsion. Question: Devotion has transformed some people. Krishnamurti: We cannot discuss third persons. There might be other persons or he may have only changed and not transformed. Let us discuss ourselves. You have devotion for your guru, for your ideal. Has it transformed you? Question: (1) Such a devotion is an impediment. Krishnamurti: Obviously. So also emotions or devotion are impediments. Question: Devotion is a response to memory. Krishnamurti: It is still within the field of memory. If thought-process is an impediment, then sentimentality (to feel soft, to have a sense of warmth) - called noble devotion, etc., - is also an impediment because it is all in the field of thought. If you see the truth of this, there is freedom from this; and that freedom itself is enough. You will not use emotions, devotion, as a means of transformation. Question: That is, you have to get rid of the attitude. Krishnamurti: Yes, for instance, in thinking that you do something in the service of mankind. Instead of saying in the service of mankind, please do what you want, simply. Can you ever live without emotions? Question: I see the possibility of it. Krishnamurti: I recognize that understanding comes only when thought- process ceases. Similarly, emotion is another form of thought-process. Do you agree? The difficulty lies in your thinking that they are different. You say there is self-surrender in your devotion to God. Is there self-surrender? You say that is your aim and that you will surrender to God at a future date; and you call this desire devotion. Question: Devotion is only the means to self-surrender. Krishnamurti: You say that you cannot surrender wholly now but that you will begin now, and that devotion is the process of your surrendering, giving yourself over, gradually to God. Question: We would like to be transformed but we know nothing about transformation. Nothing that we know, leads to transformation. My capacity to renounce is less than my conception of it. Therefore, that which I can effortlessly renounce is called devotion. It is a tribute of incapacity to a possibility. Krishnamurti: The main point is whether devotion is a transforming factor, not eventually, but now. It is silly to think of giving oneself over to God eventually. You would like it but you do not do it. You say you are incapable. Why incapable? You give yourself over to something if you are vitally interested in it. Question: At its very best, devotion is a recognition of blindness. Krishnamurti: It is a movement in the direction of self-denial. By action, by gesture, you will find out. Question: (1) When there is devotion, you postulate another entity called God. Krishnamurti: If you have devotion, why do you not surrender completely now? Question: Because we are not honest. Krishnamurti: Why are you not honest? You must find out the whole substance of this. If you realize that it is only now there can be transformation and that transformation is essential for happiness and for a new structure in society, you have to find out why there is no immediate transformation, what the impediments are. If thought prevents understanding, then emotion will also prevent it, devotion, ecstasy, joy. We must go outside the field of all this. Question: I am a lover of music, and I derive joy from it. Is that emotion? Krishnamurti: If music becomes an addiction, it is an impediment. You hear music and you have joy. Then you name that joy and want a repetition of it. Then that joy is emotion and is brought into the field of thought. It therefore ceases to be joy but only memory. Therefore, it is an impediment. When music is an escape from daily routine, it is not a joy but a night-mare. There is joy when there is constant freshness and not when you take joy into memory and bring it into the field of thought. An emotion untermed is not the same as when it is termed, brought into the field of thought and used as a means for one's continuing or for something else. So long as you think about a feeling, it is thought. Devotion as a means for self-abandonment is a thought-process. There is no devotion without thought-process, and therefore they are both impediments to transformation. A feeling, an emotion, when thought about, ceases to be feeling. Is there a state of being which is not within the field of thought-process? Anything within the field of thought is the known. To know the unknown I must completely abandon the known. Therefore, devotion, feeling, emotion - all of which lie in the field of thought, the known - are impediments to transformation. At the moment of experiencing there is neither the experiencer nor the experience. At the moment of experiencing there is no recording. The recorder then says that he had an experience and names it. Is there a state which is not in the field of thought, something beyond the thought-process? I can only find this out when the thought- process ceases. We see now the importance of the ceasing of the thought-process, of feeling. You have experienced that it is possible to have a complete cessation of thought, no matter even if it was for a split second, when you are not thinking; but your mind is alert and passive; your mind is not active because it has understood that thought is an impediment. When the thought-process is not functioning, you and I are completely open to each other and there is no barrier. It is only when we love each other that there can be complete openness between us. Why is this not your experience? We see the possibility of being completely open and this state of openness is only when there is love. Therefore, love is not emotion. It is a state when the mind is extraordinarily alert; but you cannot capture it, you cannot think about it. You should perceive the activities of thought. When you are aware of the thought-process, the thought-process will cease to function and the mind will be completely quiet and open and then it will able to discover what is beyond the thought-process. April 18, 1948 MADRAS 5TH GROUP DISCUSSION 20TH APRIL, 1948 We have discussed the importance of immediate transformation and how it can be brought about; also how individual regeneration is not a process of time but free of time and it is not "becoming". We saw the various forms of hindrances that introduce the time-element. It is possible to see a thing directly, clearly and honestly. It is only when there is a contradiction that the time-element comes in. The time- element is introduced whenever we allow the thought-process to take place. Emotions, sentimentality and devotion are within the field of time, of thought; therefore, they and the various forms of feeling are not love. One cannot think about love but only about objects of love thereby having sensations and deriving stimulation, emotions; thus, emotions are within the thought-process. What brings about transformation? There must be change, revolution. We cannot go on day to day as we are doing and have atomic bombs. Social and economic revolutions have no meaning. Again, the inner revolution must be a continuous one. Thought-process is not going to change us; for, ideas breed further ideas and ideologies breed other systems which are in opposition. Realizing that the time-element is valueless, that no regeneration can take place within time, how are we to set about to have transformation? Question: Can we do anything about it? The moment we try to do something, we seem to imitate some pattern of conduct or another. Krishnamurti: It is an important question. Can anything be done to bring about this inward transformation? Any action on my part is within the field of thought as it necessitates choice. What is implied in choice? When is there choice? There is choice only when there are two or more things to choose from. When you go to a shop you set in motion the action of memory - which is comparison, weighing, balancing; you look at various things and then choose. Will choice which is comparison with a past or with a future and which implies postponement of action, lead to transformation? Question: What do you mean by saying that choice implies time? Krishnamurti: How is choice made? With memory. What is memory? Incomplete experience. If you understand or experience something completely, the psychological memory of it is absent; you may remember the incident but there is no emotional content. Question: Psychological memory may act subconsciously whereas factual memory is within the superficial layers of consciousness. Krishnamurti: We are discussing whether transformation can be effected by any action on my part. My action is always within a pattern of action or behaviour known to me, or foreseen by me or decided on by me on my past knowledge. Obviously, such an act will not lead to transformation. Whatever I do is within the field of such a pattern of action; it is always based upon a thought in the past, the past being memory - factual as well as psychological. Without factual memory, I cannot build a house or build a bridge, I cannot have any verbal communication with others. What do we mean by psychological memory? When do you remember an experience? Why do you not remember all experiences? Generally, pleasant experiences are remembered and the unpleasant ones are put away, though they may still be in the deeper layers of consciousness. You remember those experiences which have a value given by you as associated with the pleasure you derived. That is, pleasant experiences give you pleasure and you remember them because of that pleasure. Unpleasant experiences are also sometimes remembered as a reference to any possible future conduct. But, what makes you remember an experience? Question: Vanity of life and pride make us remember. Krishnamurti: Why? Look at this question practically. You have all had experiences; you think about them, you recall them and you remember them. Why is there this remembrance? Do you remember anything which you have completely finished, an incident or an experience? You have a conversation and you are interrupted; then you go back and complete it mentally. When you face, understand and complete the fact of the death of your child, then you do not have a psychological memory of it. Question: Even when I have completely finished a conversation, I still remember it. Krishnamurti: Yes. It is factual memory. You and I have a conversation. Until that conversation is completed and until we fully communicate with each other what we want, the significance is not understood. Question: This conversation is only one part of my life. Krishnamurti: When a conversation is completely understood, you need not go over the whole of that conversation again though you may remember the incident. The psychological memory uses the factual memory as a means to get something out of it. Even facts are not remembered unless there is a basis of avoidance or gain. What makes you remember a conversation? When that conversation is not completed or its significance has not been completely understood. When completed and fully understood the contents and the thought-process in regard to that conversation have ceased. If you use the factual memory of a conversation as a means of deriving pleasure, then you remember and dwell upon the conversation. If something - a desire, an intention or a pleasure -drops away, it is gone out of your system. But, when you struggle to give it up, it does not drop away. Therefore, the process of giving up, renouncing, is an incomplete action; and therefore will lead to a remembrance of the things given up, and therefore a strengthening of the entity that gives up. The incomplete conversation leaves a space, a mark which we remember; it is very deep down in the layers of our consciousness and it acts invariably always like a record continuously playing, till we complete that experience. Why does an experience leave a mark? A mind which is marked, has a residue of experiences, cannot experience a new thing like an exposed negative which cannot take a clear impression of a new picture. Such a mind is incapable of acting apart from a pattern of action already known. Until that mark is completely understood, the memory will go on repeating itself. Why do we hold on to some experiences and reject others? My mind is the repository of all experiences of all humanity. How can such a mind, so completely filled, have anything new? I am the result of incomplete experiences because the past experiences are all incomplete. Experiences are remembered because they are incomplete, because we have not thought about them completely to their end. We use them as a means of profit or avoidance and therefore remember them. Question: I don't have a new experience as long as I am the result of incomplete experiences. I cannot have any new thought or new perception as long as my mind is clouded with old thoughts. What am I to do? Krishnamurti: True. Thought born of incomplete experience cannot meet the new anew and therefore cannot lead to your inward transformation. Now, find out what you will do. Whatever you do is based upon your memory and therefore will not lead you to transformation. You realize, therefore, that you cannot do anything with regard to immediate inward transformation. Question: I feel intensely and want to do something. As I find I cannot do anything, I feel helpless. Krishnamurti: Why do you not know? Have you realized that you cannot do anything to transform yourself, first superficially and verbally and then more and more deeply? Have you realized that whatever you do, your action is within the field of the known and therefore you cannot transform yourself by doing anything? If you have realized, then the activities of your mind which wants to do something or other, are all cut one after another and finally you realize deeply that you cannot do anything about it, that you cannot deal with this problem of transformation by your actions. The main difficulty now is that your mind thinks it can do something or other with this problem and that, if it does not act, it feels uneasy. The mind is therefore restless. Mind acts only through memory and therefore mind kicks against "not acting". Therefore you have to consider and understand the activities of the memory and the mind in relation to transformation. Question: There is distraction and also acting with a purpose. Krishnamurti: Distraction leads to postponement; therefore postponement of any action is an indication of the existence of a distraction. When you are vitally interested in anything, you are not distracted. Question: Transformation is not in the plane of action. Krishnamurti: Why? I see the importance of immediate transformation not in terms of time, of a complete regeneration of thought, a clarity, a creativeness. I see myself in tortures. If I find this transformation, then my life will have a meaning. I, therefore, go all along the way finding out which is a distraction and which leads to transformation. As I know and understand them, I am purposive and proceed directly. This can be made clear by an example. Supposing I live in a well- enclosed fortress and somebody says that there is something marvellous beyond the walls of the fortress. If I want to see that which is beyond the walls, any action that I do in that connection within the limits of the fortress only, is futile. It is only when I break the walls, that I can have a glimpse of what is outside. When you want to understand something, a child or a picture, you have to be silent, to study, and to watch. Your attitude should be one of watching silently, observing and studying all the time. When you have realized that, whatever you do, you cannot transform yourself, what happens to your action? When you realize the futility of all your actions, what do you do? Can you listen to music with effort? Have you not got to sit absolutely quiet to enjoy music? Similarly, when you have the feeling that you must do something, it is an indiction that you have not yet realized the fact that whatever you do cannot lead you to transformation of any kind. Question: Is desire in the way of transformation? Krishnamurti: Is it not? Why do you not find this out for yourself? It is fairly simple to do so with regard to transformation. Question: If I do nothing, there will be no transformation. Krishnamurti: How do you know? You realize that transformation is imperative, you feel the need for it. When you know that you cannot do anything about it, then only will you sit down quietly without doing anything. You know that thought-process cannot lead to transformation. Memory is always propelling thought and memory is incomplete experience. Desire also is based on thought-process. The road to Mylapore - which is a factual memory - becomes a psychological memory, when people walking onit give you incomplete experience. Your life consists of incomplete experiences and until you finish them you cannot but act. You have innumerable memories and you have to cleanse them all till your mind is free. Is this possible? No. You cannot cleanse the entire past. Can you by your actions examine all the contents of your consciousness, investigate into the past and finish them one by one? It will take time; the instrument of your investigation is incomplete. You might miss some. Therefore in this examination of your past experiences, you are sure to be caught again. Therefore, what are you to do? Question: Go out and see what happens to you when you meet a new experience. Krishnamurti: Can you do it with every one of your experiences? Even if you do, how long will it take? Again, the intimations from the hidden layers of consciousness have also to be understood and acted upon. Therefore, you cannot do it. Question: When you can't do it, what can you do? You have to step out or to accept it. Krishnamurti: Are you in a state when you do not know what to do? When you say that you do not know, what is behind it? Question: That I want to know. Krishnamurti: What are you to do when you realize that whatever you do will not lead to transformation? To know what to do, you must know that you do not know what to do. When you say "I do not know", you are reduced to a new position. You are nothing in regard to that. Question: Is there not the recognition that it is possible to know? Krishnamurti: I cannot get rid of the past, do what I will. What am I to do? I want to do something about it and I cannot do anything. Therefore I don't know what to do with regard to the past or with regard to the future. When after realization, I say I do not know, my mind is very alert, very quiet and in a new state. Question: It is a state of expectancy. Krishnamurti: When you expect anything, it is based upon the known, therefore, that mind has not yet realized that it cannot do anything about it. But, if you have realized and then say that you do not know, your mind is extraordinarily alert, more alert than when you positively say "I am this"; this means negative thinking is the highest form of meditation; it is complete cessation of thought. Therefore, "not- knowingness" is the new state of the mind in which the past has disappeared. Unfortunately, you will never allow your mind to come to that point, your mind does not allow it to come to that point. Thus, there is a way by which the mind can be immediately cleansed of all its past, cleansed of the whole content of consciousness. When the mind is thus cleansed of all its past, there is direct action. Until you realize and say with the whole of your being "I do not know:, you cannot stop the thought-process i.e., the process of experiencing (perception, contact, sensation, desire, identification), terming (pleasure or pain), and recording (memory and mind). Question: Until I say "I do not know", I am not free of the past. Is this correct? Krishnamurti: Why didn't you say now "I don't know"? We have been discussing all along about immediate inward transformation. Do you know what to do to bring about transformation in yourselves? You please experiment with it. When you bring me a gift and I do not want it, it is not mine. Similarly, when you have a problem and when you have realized that you do not know anything about it, then that problem is not yours. Question: I am not able to get rid of psychological fear. Krishnamurti: I shall deal with it the next time we meet, as it is already very late. Why do you find it difficult to say "I do not know"? What do you know except doing some work as a technician or earning money as a lawyer? Technique, gathering of other people's information etc., what else do you know? You are a bundle of memories. Beyond that what are you? Question: I don't know. Krishnamurti: Title, house, money - remove all these; what are you? Why do you not say "I don't know, I am nothing". You know nothing. Even all your dreams are within the field of memory and you therefore do not know. Why not acknowledge this? Why not face this nothingness and in facing it say "I don't know". Be completely stripped and say, "I am nobody, I am nothing". It is the recognition of a fact. Why do you not face it? That is your difficulty. Because you have never looked at it, you are never facing it. When you actually come to the state of facing and recognizing yourself as you are, you can say "I don't know, I am nothing"? There is a way of completely cleansing the mind of the past immediately, and therefore bringing about instantaneous regeneration. This is when you have actually realized and when you say "I don't know". The mind is then unburdened and is swift -not erudite, not clever, not informed - but quiet, passive and extraordinarily alert. Then only there can be full and direct action. April 20, 1948 MADRAS 6TH GROUP DISCUSSION 22ND APRIL, 1948 I do not consider it necessary to discuss again about what we talked about the day before yesterday, viz., that as we try to look at every problem in the light of our own opinions and conclusions, it is not possible to arrive at the state where there is both the interval and also the sense of 'not knowing', when alone real comprehension comes into being. Question: If I understand correctly, you said that we have to feel "I am nothing". How am I to get this feeling? Question: (1) When I say 'I cannot do anything' to bring about transformation, is it the same as 'I am nothing'? This point requires clarification. Question: (2) The state preceding that when I say 'I don't know', is when I feel that 'I am nothing'. Krishnamurti: We shall discuss this now. Are we something? Before you can say you are nothing, you should see what you are. Question: Our beliefs, our bias, our prejudices, our commitments do not lead us anywhere. This can be experienced; but, to say 'I am nothing' appears to be different. Krishnamurti: Are you aware that you are something? Question: When I do something, I feel I am something. Krishnamurti: When there is conflict, or awareness of resistance, or awareness of action, one feels one is something. Is this correct? Question: In any thought-process, I feel I am something. Krishnamurti: So, we think we are something whenever the thought- process is functioning. Is that it? When there is the continuance of the 'I', I am something. Can we go beyond that or not? Can we go beyond the screen of 'I am'? Question: Whenever I think, the 'I' comes in. Therefore, I don't know anything beyond that. Question: (1) When I feel frustrated, I feel I am nothing. Krishnamurti: When you feel frustrated, when your self- consciousness comes against a barrier which it cannot overcome, your 'I' is enormously strengthened. So, probably you seek other ways to get what you want. The thought-process is certainly not a way of bringing about transformation. Can the past be wiped away? We saw that it is not possible to wipe away yesterdays which are very large in number, by allowing each 'yesterday' to project itself into consciousness and understanding it. This will take a very very long time which we cannot afford to spare. Therefore, we cannot examine completely all these and be free from our entire past. Then we came to the point that you cannot act; because, every act is within the field of resistance. When you have a problem, a real human problem, and you cannot solve it, what do you do? Question: You do nothing. Krishnamurti: Have you ever been against such a problem? Question: Yes. Then, I pushed off the problem and got on with something else. Krishnamurti: You say that when a problem is insoluble, you go to another. What is the state of the mind previous to the verbal expression 'I don't know', especially when the problem demands an urgent solution? Here is a problem that immediate transformation is necessary and you feel that the thought-process cannot lead you to it and that whatever you do is within the thought-process. As the problem demands an answer, you feel that it is imperative to find out the solution and you are quite willing to find it out. Then you find that you are unable to do anything about it. So long as you think that you must do some action, either on your own volition or by pressure from outside, it is still within the field of thought and therefore it cannot lead to the solution of the problem. When you come to this point, what is the state of your mind? Question: Despair. Question: (1) My mind has become still, alert and watchful. Krishnamurti: What happens now to it? Do you not see the imperative necessity for transformation and that whatever you do is a barrier? Question: I begin to pray. Krishnamurti: Prayer is another form of thought-process and it will not lead you anywhere. I want to know now what the state of your mind is when it has enquired and felt this need for immediate, constant revolution, constant renewal and regeneration. Thought which is the response of memory, the outcome of a response to a challenge, cannot do anything. You realize the deep significance of saying "there must be immediate transformation", but thought cannot do this. No action is possible and you cannot do anything about this to bring about transformation. Question: We are not thinking anything at all. Question: (1) My mind is absolutely quiet, standing still. Krishnamurti: Go into it please. What does absolute stillness mean? There is an interval between two thoughts, between the ending of one thought and the arising of another. Without that interval thought would be continuous. What is happening in that interval? Have you watched your own process of mind? Question: I feel nothing, but consciousness is not extinct. The sense of the 'I' is not there. Krishnamurti: Let us view it differently. As long as I know the solution to a problem, I have no difficulty. I have a new problem and I have no previous ready-made answer. It is an entirely new problem. How will I tackle it? Regeneration can take place only immediately and I cannot do anything about it. To understand completely, I must come with a fresh mind, a mind free from the residue left by previous experiences. What is the state of your mind now when you similarly face this problem? Question: A state of expectancy. Krishnamurti: Is that so? My mind is not asleep. It is extraordinarily alert. The difficulty is to recognize the problem as new. If you see an entirely new insect, you will find it very difficult to recognize it, to focus on it; the whole thing appears to be blurred to you so far as that insect is concerned. Generally speaking, the mind sees quicker and more than the eye, and mind is more aware than the eye. Why? Because the mind has recorded all such things and memory is functioning. If you are face to face with a new thing like this insect and the mind has no memory, the mind is out of focus; and you have to observe the thing much more closely till the mind builds up sufficient memory through which it can recognize it; the eye has therefore to make much greater effort to observe. Suppose the mind, accustomed to deal with some problems, faces a new problem. It looks to all the previous answers to find an answer to the new problem. However, as the problem is entirely new, memory will not help and there will be no response from the old. Therefore, the mind is not in focus with this new problem. In other words, the mind does not look at the problem but always tries to look to the record it has already built up. As the problem demands a new point of view, it is not able to find a ready-made answer from the old records which it searches to find an answer. Since it cannot find an answer to the new problem, your saying "I am expecting" means that you are not observing the problem but only waiting for an answer to come out of the old. If you see that all this attempt to get an answer to the new problem by a reference to your past memories, is futile, then you do not expect, you do not watch. What is your mind doing then? Question: Cessation of thought. Question: (1) I am expecting to hear what you are going to say next. Krishnamurti: Watch your own mind. I am only unfolding my own mind. I am now focusing my attention on the problem itself and my eyes are focused on the new insect without translating the insect in terms of what I have seen in the past. Therefore, my attitude is not one of expectation or interpretation. Are there other screens intervening between me and the problem? There is the desire to be transformed which urges me to look at the problem; this means, I want a result. I want to do something, seeking a result; and therefore I am creating the actor who is going to do something. The desire to be transformed implies the desire for an end, which creates the actor who wants to do something. This desire for transformation is a very difficult screen to get rid of. Question: This is part of the problem itself. Krishnamurti: That is so. The mind wants to translate the new into the old but the new insect says "I am entirely new and you cannot understand me if you bring in any of your old". The psychological demand for a result is preventing me from looking at the new. My looking for a result out of the new is entirely different from my looking at the new. Desire for an end creates action and the action creates the actor. The actor says "I will get it." Here there is no necessity for a result, no necessity for an actor. The problem is not that I must transform myself but that there must be immediate transformation in me. You must not seek a way of using transformation. Any expectation from the past as an answer to the new, any interpretation based on that past, or any desire for an end or to seek a result - all these must go as these are barriers to my understanding the problem. Is there any other screen? When my mind has wiped away the three screens referred to above as irrelevant, then what is the state of my mind? My mind is new, fresh and can look at the new problems anew. The mind is transformed, because it is no longer the old as it has been cleansed of the past and has become the new. The importance is to see that this cleansing of the mind can be done and done immediately. I started out to understand the new insect which I had never seen before. The mind, being out of focus, battles with it and tries to translate the insect in terms of the old. No help, however, comes out of the past. Therefore, the eye observes the insect more closely. I have no desire for a result out of this insect because I do not know the insect nor how to use it. In such a state I am merely observing the insect. Action creates the actor. First there is perception, then contact, pleasure, then more action. Thus we have desire, end in view, action and then actor. Which comes first, action or actor? Action is first. First there is perception, then contact, then sensation and then only desire. In desire you have the 'I' and the 'mine' but the 'I' and the 'mine' comes into existence only after action which consists of perception, contact, and sensation. We are always used to think in terms of getting a result, when the 'I' is strengthened. I know that there must be transformation. I don't know what this transformation is and what it will do. When do I say that transformation is imperative? Only when I see the futility of all that I have done and all that I can do. This thinking out, after full examination of the problem, implies intelligence. When I am looking for a new approach, I am still expecting something from the old. So, expectation goes and then the interpreter. My mind has now become sharper in itself. I may have thrown out the Master but not the desire to achieve. My approach is not to get anything but to see and to understand the new approach, not to get a result. Seeking a result means being caught with the old. We want a result to become something, to become happy, etc., all this implies strife. So, this goes when there is more and more observation and intelligence. When all these three screens go, the mind is new, all attention. It has examined all the things that are not worthwhile, and discarded them. Then only it has become new. Because you have not discarded these screens but are playing with them, you do not see the need for transformation. The problem exists as long as the screens exist. In the removal of the screens is freedom. The removal of the screens can be done immediately, now; then there will be regeneration. There is no "how to be transformed". If you go after it now, it is done. That is the beauty of it. That state when the mind is cleansed of the past, corresponding to a clean slate, is the state of "not knowing". This state is the state of highest activity. When the cup is empty, something new can be put into it; but, if there is already some tea in a cup you can only fill it up with tea and not with anything new. Therefore, the mind has to be cleansed of the past to view a new problem anew. April 22, 1948 MADRAS 7TH GROUP DISCUSSION 25TH APRIL, 1948 We have been discussing about the importance of individual transformation as that alone would lead to a world revolution; about the importance of not thinking in terms of the mass as mass is really non- existent, or of not thinking in terms of a system as no system can lead to transformation; that transformation cannot take place through the thought-process as any thinking about the problem will only lead to further conditioning and resistance; that sentimentality, devotion and emotion are all in the field of thought which is the same as the field of sensation and will not lead to fundamental transformation. We also enquired what were the barriers to the recognition of the problem. We said that they might be: -(1) Repetitive experience which prevents direct relationship with the problem. To deal with a human problem we look to memory for help and this cannot lead to the solution of a problem. The interpreter which is the memory acting on a problem. So long as there is the interpreter, the problem cannot be seen simply. Looking for a result. This prevents a direct communion with the problem. The result, the end is always static, whereas the problem is not static. Therefore, when you look at a problem as a means of getting a result or leading to a result, you cannot understand the problem. When these three screens are removed, mind is cleansed and is new. When the mind is thus transformed, the problem is directly seen and it is then no longer a problem at all. Transformation cannot be brought about through time, through growth, through evolution, through a series of lives. There can be no inward revolution through a process of time. Immediate inward revolution is possible only through understanding. Therefore, the removal of the screens must come as an experience. It should not be a process of repetition, i.e., because others have said, etc. We can keep our mind fresh and new only by our own constant experiencing. Is it possible to approach the problem of immediate transformation differently? Question: It has been asked by some why the process of the mind seems clear when you talk about it. I find the same thing happening to my mind; but, when I go home, my mind goes back into the old groove. Why is this? Again, I do not recognize for myself the existence of any ill- will or evil which recreates itself in the minds of others or causes chaos in society. Krishnamurti: Surely, there is a repetitive evil which arises inside you, which projects itself into society as anti-social actions, etc. Question: That may not have always something to do with strife. It may be often personal. Krishnamurti: What is society? Question: Gita says "How does it happen that human mind turns to evil rather than good". Krishnamurti: I have not studied the Gita. Why is it easier to bring about co-operation between people through hatred, through greed, through evil? If there is to be any social reform, you cannot bring people together. Why is it easier to injure another, to be inconsiderate, rather than to be kind and generous? Have you not seen how when clothed in evil, good can be pursued more easily? Question: An object of hatred makes for the binding of all those who also hate that object. Krishnamurti: Is that the reason? Supposing you say that we can all join together and produce something which will be for the good of all of us. Will they join? Why do people more easily choose evil action than good action? Question: Submission to authority. Krishnamurti: Apart from authority, is there not anything else? A thoughtful man will not readily obey an authority in matters in which he does not agree. Question: Because there is some prospect of getting something in the immediate future, people follow the evil rather than the good. Krishnamurti: Why do we choose the path that is evil more readily than good? Question: Inherited savagery in our blood. Krishnamurti: Greed is considered profitable though ultimately it is destructive. Society is the projection of the inward state of the individual in daily life. I know greed will ultimately lead to destruction, yet I pursue greed. Why? What you say is that the immediate is dictating and not the result. The ultimate is really the immediate. In any case, to separate yourself from society is not correct. If your relationship with society is based on some qualities, those qualities are bound to be impressed on the society with which you are in immediate relationship. Generally, whenever a thing gives you pleasure, you pursue it. Question: I do not understand you, Sir. The pursuit of a certain quality which we do not name, is itself a result of conflict. Krishnamurti: Surely not. The first movement is not the action of conflict. You pursue something, or go after something, in order to gain or to avoid. Your whole existence is based on an attempt either to gain or to avoid. Question: Is insensitivity the result of an action to gain or to avoid? Krishnamurti: Why insensitivity? Why are you insensitive to what you call good and sensitive to what you call evil? Question: Because insensitivity takes beyond the ambit of pain. Question: (2) If I get pleasure, can I make myself sensitive? Krishnamurti: Why do I pursue quality? Is it because I am sensitive, or am lacking in clarity? Question: To answer this correctly, you will have to study the whole history of mankind. Krishnamurti: Yes. But will not this study of the whole history by yourself take infinite time? You are also likely to miss some chapters. So, it is not practical to say that "I shall answer when I know the whole of my past". There must be another method. Question: Is it truer to say that the quality grips me, rather than that I follow the quality? Question: (1) Am I different from the qualities? Krishnamurti: True. Why does the self follow one quality in preference to another? Question: When you follow anger, does anger give you pleasure? Krishnamurti: Certainly, Sir, when you let off steam. We either pursue for the sake of pleasure, to gain something, or for the sake of avoidance. All effort to pursue a quality depends on pleasure and avoidance. When you know that pleasure is going to bring ultimate destruction, why do you pursue it? Because you really do not know definitely for yourself that it is painful ultimately. Why do you not see that, in the course of pleasure, diseases and pains are involved and why do you not therefore immediately drop the pleasure? Anger affects the body. Is anger a worthy means of cohesion of people, of society? Not at all. Yet, why are we angry? Do you know that anger acts as a barrier? If you know, why are you angry? When you know a certain thing is poison, you do not play with it and taste it. What is it that prevents you from knowing that anger is a poison; and why do you not leave it alone? Question: Everyone of us has a tendency to manufacture some unnamed proclivity to evil. Why is it? Krishnamurti: You know the bad effects of anger and yet why do you pursue anger? Question: Because I don't know it is a poison. Krishnamurti: Why do you not know? I am angry and I want to stop it immediately. How do I do it? Only when I can read the contents of anger with full attention, give anger my whole being and understanding. If you want to get a result, should you not give your whole mind and heart to it? A quality like anger is not recognized as poison till your whole being is given to the understanding of it, till you give your whole undivided attention to it. Question: I understand anger only after I am angry and not while I am angry. Krishnamurti: Anger is a response to a challenge. If I am not afraid of any danger and if I understand anger, then I shall not get angry. You pursue certain qualities because you have not studied them, because you are not interested in being aware of them. If you understand anger, you are transformed immediately. For instance, smoking is first a nausea to you. Then it becomes a habit and then a source of pleasure. When you understand this process and when you understand the nature of smoking, then, smoking falls away. If you relate the habit of smoking to other habits also, then, in understanding the habit of smoking fully, you understand also the nature of all habits and you will be transformed. Thus, we pursue a quality because we have not gone into it deeply, or into ourselves deeply, in order to understand it. Mere liberation from a smoking habit does not lead to a chain of liberations from other habits unless you fully understand all the implications of habit as such. There is regeneration, if there is constant watchfulness. Regeneration is not an end-result but from moment to moment. Why is it not possible to understand something which we call evil, completely so that it drops away? Obviously because we do not want to study the problem and all its implications. We require a lot of time. It means action in your way of living, which may lead to more and more trouble. As you do not want to be involved in any more trouble, you are not serious, earnest, about any of these things. You like to lead a superficial life, avoiding pain and seeking pleasure. You want to avoid pain merely because you like to live superficially. You are inwardly dull, insensitive to your problem. Sensitivity means constant ache and therefore you are insensitive. War is evil and I want to avoid war. I want to understand and transform my own existence, to find out if, in me, there is violence and conflict - either between you and me, or in myself. Therefore, I must study the problem completely first in myself. I am always seeking a result and this leads to conflict. I see this and also that it is unproductive and does not lead to creativeness. I also see that this contradiction in myself really means lack of clarity of thought. Then, I see that I am not seeking clarity, but I want to understand contradiction. Then, when I do not seek anything but am merely observing closely in order to understand contradiction, contradiction ceases. Love is not a quality, an emotion or sentiment. There is no quality of like and dislike in love. If you see a thing directly, it drops; and you cannot see a thing directly, if you want a result. To understand violence, you should have no screen such as the ideal of non-violence or the idealism of non-violence. To pursue an ideal is really an escape from dealing directly with violence. You can never understand anything through an ideal. How do you understand sorrow? Not by escaping from sorrow, by seeking a remedy. If your intention is to understand sorrow, then you must watch, study every movement of thought, study every escape. Then, when you understand all this, your mind does not run away from sorrow. Giving explanations about sorrow does not mean understanding sorrow. When I completely understand all the escapes which are created by me in order to avoid sorrow or to arrive at certain results, then escapes drop away. When escapes have been cleansed from my mind, then only, my mind is face to face with sorrow. In understanding sorrow, escapes arise. In probing into them, I find that when I grieve over the death of my son, I have really used my son as an escape from myself. Being afraid to discover what I am, I have been seeking fulfilment in my son. I escape from something which is myself and which is not known to me, from my emptiness, my insufficiency and my poverty. Because my son is not there, I am confronted with my poverty which causes me sorrow. Thus, I am face to face with my loneliness, my emptiness. As long as you escape from 'what is', you will have sorrow, and you pursue all the escapes. When you understand and when you are not escaping, then you are experiencing your own true state of emptiness. In this state of experiencing, there is no experiencer or experience. After experiencing, you are aware of the experiencer having had an experience. As long as you are escaping from 'what is', there is always the experiencer frightened with what he is going to experience. Truth only can free you from escapes. When you realize that you are that thing which you actually are, there is no longer any escape. When you experience loneliness, in experiencing, loneliness drops away and there is no problem. Therefore, sorrow disappears when there is the experiencing of that emptiness. Any other form of resolving sorrow is an escape. Here is the key to the problem of sorrow. It is only in the state of experiencing when there is neither the experiencer nor the experience, that there is instantaneous transformation. Question: Does not one get out of this state when he has once had it? Krishnamurti: Why are you anxious about this? Experiencing is from moment to moment; there is also the prolonging of the interval. It is sufficient even if you have that state even for a split second. Wanting to be other than 'what is', is really an escape. If you understand 'what is' completely, then a miracle happens. April 23, 1948 MADRAS 8TH GROUP DISCUSSION 27TH APRIL, 1948 When we last met we came up to the point when we began to question why people generally have a tendency to follow more easily evil rather than good. In the course of this discussion, we saw that all escapes - so-called noble or ignoble, beneficial to society or anti-social - brought about sorrow and not the understanding of sorrow. It is only when we realize and face our own emptiness, loneliness etc., that we can have a solution to our sorrow. We also saw that where there was pursuit of pleasure or avoidance of pain or pleasure which is called ignoble or unrighteous, we can never understand the true nature of the problem. We generally pursue pleasure because the pleasure that we derive thereby, gives further nourishment or expansion to our 'self', i.e., to the me and the mine. Similarly, we avoid that which diminishes or contradicts or denies the self, the 'I'. Whenever there is the pursuit of self- expansion, it is easier to follow it. When there is a blocking of that expansion, we avoid it. Therefore, we follow that which we call evil, the path of strife, violence etc. None of us want to be eradicated psychologically, we want to be something - a writer, a politician and so on. Where the self finds no issue, we try to avoid it. Question: Why is hatred a greater cementing factor than love? Krishnamurti: I said the other day that fear, threat to security, binds people together. Where the self can find root, it uses it as a means of 'becoming'. The denial of the self is love, but it is not cohesive because we cling to self. Question: The pursuit of both good and evil may lead to self-expansion. Krishnamurti: This is not a question of difference between evil and good. Evil and good are both so-called. The point is that where there is scope for self-expansion, there you pursue it whether it is the so- called good or so-called evil. Question: Is there not cussedness, a behaviour-compulsive, in human nature? Why are we cussed? Krishnamurti: Are you cussed by nature? Why is there not a regeneration of the individual when he has explored the various avenues of his thought, feeling and action, and found their full significance? What is it that brings about a revolution in the individual? Our brains are sufficiently clear; we have thought about our actions, our relationship etc., and yet the quality which makes for immediate transformation, seems to be lacking. Question: Is there such a catalyst? Can we look for it? Krishnamurti: Is there a catalyst, or what is the new approach? What do we mean by transformation? Question: A state of not having a memory or not having an ego, a negative state. Krishnamurti: Is that what we mean by transformation? We have moments when the self is absent, when the sense of the me and the mine is absent, i.e., without the conscious awareness of the experiencer and the experience. When you get a shock, in moments of great joy or sorrow, the self is driven out, there is no sense of the me. Question: Can the me be completely dissolved, never to return? Is that transformation? Krishnamurti: That is the classical understanding of transformation. Is there not a different approach? Question: As we have not experienced it, we cannot say what transformation is. Krishnamurti: All you can do is to be free of conflict, when sorrow ceases. When you free yourself from conflict or sorrow, something may happen. The mind creates the problem and the problem which is identification and condemnation and justification, brings about sorrow. The past absorbs the present, modifies it and continues on into the future. This is all one continuous movement. Why should the mind create the problem? Question: Conflicting desires. Krishnamurti: Can you not put an end to these desires? Why have we to strive and to struggle, keep on asserting and denying etc.? Why should we not live from moment to moment and as each problem arises understand it and resolve it, and so on? Why can't you do that? Problems arise. Why do you not deal with each problem completely without allowing it to leave a residue? Question: A memory is already there and it is bound to condition the new. Krishnamurti: Why should you not deal with the new as new, free from conditioning. If I am aware of the conditioning in me, can I not meet the next problem without the conditioned mind? Question: We may have some conditioning of which we are not conscious. Krishnamurti: True. But if your intention is to meet the new without any conditioning by your past, then you are extraordinarily alert and you are aware of the conditioning. Transformation is the meeting of the new as new, without any conditioning whatsoever, i.e., to meet each new problem anew. Question: This is impossible. If you have memory, that memory is bound to condition all your thoughts under all circumstances. Krishnamurti: Can I meet a problem anew? Yes, but only if I have got the intention to be aware of the conditioning and to be free of such conditioning, whatever be the level of consciousness. I see that I can only understand a problem if I meet it anew. Then, I will welcome any opportunity which will open up this conditioning so that, by my being aware of it, that conditioning may drop away. Question: Has conditioning a bio-chemical aspect in it? How will it be affected by my awareness? Krishnamurti: Just as I recognize everything else, social, industrial or religious etc., I can understand a problem only when I meet it anew. As I have got so many memories, the whole human treasure, I cannot analyze every one of them. There are some conditionings of which I am aware; but, there are also other conditionings of which I am not aware. My intention is to meet the problem anew and to be free of all conditioning. Therefore, I recognize my state of conditioning factually as well as unconsciously; I also recognize that I cannot resolve them all and that I cannot solve the problem unless I meet it without any conditioning whatsoever. I cannot investigate into the whole content of consciousness; yet, I must meet the problem anew. Question: Have you not then a purpose, an object to be gained? Krishnamurti: No. The purpose is the outcome of the conditioning and it translates the problem. Question: If you have no purpose, there is no problem. Why should I solve the problem? Krishnamurti: When you have got a purpose, can you dissolve the problem? Question: A problem is not absolute, it relates to man. The purpose is to enlarge the freedom of the individual. Krishnamurti: Any problem is one of food, things, relationship, or ideas. You talk of the freedom of the individual. Freedom from what? Is it freedom to be more expansive, more stupid, more national? Freedom for the self to expand is not freedom at all. The self is a contradiction, it is limited; the more it expands, the more is it limited and in contradiction. An experience becomes a problem when it is not fully understood, i.e., when it is acted on by past conditioning, conscious or not. This experience gives pain. How am I to dissolve this pain? I can do so only when there is no thought of the past, when there is no conditioning. The mind always knows the fact of its conditioning, conscious or unconscious; and yet, it can understand only when it meets the problem anew without any conditioning. What is the conditioning of such a mind? What is it to do? Question: Instead of finding out ways and means, stop thinking. Krishnamurti: What is the state of mind at this stage? Is it a wrong question to put? Question: Is not the problem itself a part of conditioning? Therefore, every problem is impossible of solution. Krishnamurti: Let us investigate it. Is not this a false question? Because the more I use the conditioning, the more it strengthens itself and I cannot investigate into the whole of my consciousness. When I realize this, what is the state of my mind? Question: There is this problem of death, losing one child, then another and then my wife being ill, all these coming one after another in quick succession. How can I understand the problem without bringing in my past conditioning, like my belief in reincarnation, etc.? Krishnamurti: There is death and suffering. Do I meet it with my religious conditioning? What is the state of my mind when I meet the problem of death? Let us discuss this. Question: My mind is passive, observing, not waiting to do anything with the problem but merely observing it. You can see how the memory is coming in in everything that I observe in this way. I come again and again to the problem pushing the memory away. Is not my thinking that I should meet the problem anew based upon my memory? Krishnamurti: Not necessarily. It is only a verbalization of what is taking place in your mind. Question: The problem is only the memory. Krishnamurti: To experiment with anything, you should not be too ready to verbalize. The problem is new and you cannot have a ready-made answer. I am gradually discovering the ways in which memory operates over a problem. This gentleman says that he is in a fix; this is because he is thinking in the old way to find the solution. When you have a new approach, you do not think of solving the problem. Memory is a positive approach and it is positive. A solution along any negative line only can lead to Truth, as the positive approach which is through memory is always conditioned by memory. Therefore, my mind in the state referred to by me is in a state of negation, which is not really the opposite of the positive; the mind is much more alert than when it is doing a positive action. When the mind is in this negative state, i.e., when the approach is negative, the mind should not create a process of thought; the mind is incapable of thought and it is not asleep, nor is it expecting an answer. Choice is inaction. Positive action based on memory, on conditioning, is really inaction. Real action is when my mind is new and when, in the new state, it meets the problem anew. What is the state of mind when it has no positive action towards the problem? You cannot pre-conceive that state; you must experience that state. If there is any choice, then the action is positive. Any voice, the inner or the voice of the Master, is still conditioning. Conditioning means no action. An action of choice is really the avoidance of 'what is'; it is therefore no action but only inaction. Any response, positive or negative, coming out of the conditioning is not true action. When I experience that state of mind, I may find the new approach. It is extremely difficult not to have a positive action towards a problem. A positive action is an action based on choice, on memory. When the mind is not positively acting on a vital problem, what is its state? Have you any vital problem? Question: Yes, the illness of a relative, which is giving me pain. Krishnamurti: How do you approach it? Question: I am trying to do my best in the matter. My approach to this is really a positive action of my memory. I do not know what else I can do. Krishnamurti: We are experimenting now. It is no use waiting and seeing. I have a living vital problem. I recognize that any positive action is valueless. What is the state of my mind? I cannot verbalize at that particular state, but only afterwards. Questioner: There is blankness in my mind. Krishnamurti: True. Supposing it is not blankness, what is the next step? As it is a new state which we have not experienced before, you cannot call it blank; it cannot be merely blank. It has pushed out positive action. Question: I am now in a state when I surrender. Krishnamurti: Surrender to whom or to what? Are you experiencing? You feel something and you do not proceed further. Question: I am paying attention. Krishnamurti: This means that there must be the giver of attention. You have now been forced to experience that state. When I am forcing you to that state, you are avoiding it. Question: My experience is that such a mind is open to receive whatever it is. Krishnamurti: In such a mind, there is no desire, no seeking an end; nor is there an actor. What is the state of that mind? For this experience to take place, the mind must have pushed away all attempts at positive action, without any effort or struggle. Therefore, such a mind is in a state of negative activity. This means really that you have stopped the interpreting of the problem. What does negative activity mean? The mind is alert and in a state of negative activity; that means, there is no desire and no seeking of a result. What is the next response? Nothing is happening in the mind. What is the next movement out of this nothingness? Put away the question and the response, and watch again. You get blocked at this stage because probably you are not accustomed to this. You try this again and see what is happening. We should proceed with this experience of yours when we meet next Thursday. The whole of this is awareness and there is the fun of discovery in understanding this. April 27, 1948 MADRAS 9TH GROUP DISCUSSION 29TH APRIL, 1948 We have been discussing for the past few days the problem of individual transformation and why it has not been possible for you to effect immediate transformation. We saw that transformation can take place only in the Now and not in the hereafter; any form of approach which involves thinking in terms of time, evolution, growth, leads to postponement. All of our philosophy which is based on this conception of growth is erroneous. Thought-process cannot bring about transformation. Thought implies a constant response of the conditioned mind; this conditioning is due to memory which is the residue of incomplete experience. We are the product of the memory, of the mind; therefore, no process of the mind can solve any problem except a factual problem. All human problems are changing and not static. Therefore, a mind that has a fixed opinion or a conclusion cannot understand a new problem. Emotions, feelings, cannot lead to transformation. Emotions and sentimentality are within the field of the mind and they are sensations. Therefore, they cannot solve the problem. Devotion, immolation of oneself to an idea, to a guru, to an object, to God, cannot lead to transformation. There is always, in this, the seeking of an end; there is always a process of sentimentality and emotion in this and it is merely clothed in the form of devotion. Therefore, devotion also is in the field of the mind and cannot lead to transformation. When we put aside all the above screens or barriers to understanding, what is left with us? When all these forms of intellection are removed, there is an inward sense of creative being. There is no problem outside the mind; so, when the mind is cleansed, we are face to face with the problem. When the problem is thus confronted and when there is no response from the mind which is the past, we are not concerned with anything. The mind has understood that all the responses of memory, because they are thought-processes, are no good for bringing about transformation. Therefore, all these responses are put aside and the mind confronts the problem. It is only when you directly experience this state that you will see what difference it makes. What is the actual state of the mind when the mind is alert and when there is no action of memory on the problem or when there is no desire for a result? We said that the mind was still; stillness was a direct experience. If it is not a direct experience to you, do not use words. When the mind is not acting on the problem, we experience first a stillness. There is no verbal expression for that state yet. The mind is not asleep. The whole content of consciousness, not merely the superficial layer, is quiet. If the superficial layers only are still, the deeper layers will project themselves into the superficial and there will be the pulsations of the past, the promptings of the deeper layers. Therefore, this state of quietness where there is no such prompting, is the one corresponding to the quietness at all levels of consciousness. In that state, we are not naming and recording. When we are not recording an experience, it is really the state of experiencing, in which there is neither the experiencer nor the experience. When the experience fades away, there arises the experiencer and the experience, the thinker and the thought. This stillness is not the result of a desire. Desire or seeking a result creates action; from action the actor is born. Therefore, if there is seeking for a result, there cannot be stillness. Question: Did I not push out all the thoughts that arose in my mind, in order to bring about stillness? Krishnamurti: No. You did not push out, but your understanding of the thought-process led to the thoughts drop- ping away by themselves. As long as there is an effort to exclude a thought, that effort is a barrier to understanding and therefore a barrier to stillness. The desire to seek an end creates action which in turn breeds the actor. As long as you do not understand that memory cannot solve a human problem, your effort to push away, which is based only on memory, cannot produce stillness of the mind. When there is a vital insistent problem of daily life, you view it with memory and therefore it is conditioned. When you realize that no action of memory can lead to understanding, then memory ceases to function and the mind is no longer acting on the problem, and therefore the mind is still. In this state, the past has been wiped away, even if it be only for a split second. Memory is always waiting to creep in and therefore a thought may arise during this interval of stillness. The understanding of this makes the mind very watchful and very alert; it is also still. The mind that has been cultivated, made to expand, by self-expansion, has now realized that all this is to be put away; therefore, all this drops away and the mind is silent. In that silence, there is neither the experiencer nor the experience, but only the state of experiencing, of stillness which is not static but with an extraordinary activity. Only the stillness which is the product of memory, is static. Question: Mind is still and seems to be non-existent. Krishnamurti: We are discussing not the stillness of the mind but the state of the mind when memory is not acting on the problem. There is stillness and in that state something happens. If I tell you anything strongly, you accept it even if you have no experiencing; this is hypnotism. Question: When I understand that memory conditions, I do not find memory acting and there is stillness. I tried to experiment then with the suffering of another whom I knew. I then felt as though I was myself suffering and not the other person of whom I was thinking. Then the thinking crept in. Krishnamurti: We are trying to find out what it means to have this constant revolution inside us, regeneration. Mere modification of memory is not transformation. As long as there is a movement of memory, there cannot be any regeneration. Regeneration is a new state which I do not know; and I must approach it through negation, and understand it negatively. Any response of memory, however fleeting, cannot produce regeneration. When I see it, the response of memory drops away. It may come back again; but, if I see it again, again it drops away. From every movement of this thought, there is creative existence. When memory is in abeyance, the mind is very quiet. By constant watchfulness, this interval arises when thought does not act at all. What comes out of this interval? When the mind is in such a state, there is a natural expansive awareness which is not exclusive; i.e., there is a state of concentration without a concentrator. The process is as follows - I want to know every form of memory and I am watchful. When any thought arises it is examined and its truth seen. Then that thought drops away. There is no discipline, effort, struggle, involved in this. Question: What happens when, in that state, there is a desire? Krishnamurti: All desire is thought. The understanding mind is denuding itself of all thoughts and there is also the lengthening of the interval between thought and thought. What happens in that interval? The interval has been experienced. When thought arises in that interval, that thought is examined with greater quickness, anew. The lengthening of the interval between two thoughts gives greater capacity to deal with any thought that may arise in that interval. The experiencing of this interval is what we are now considering. There is a vitality in this interval. In this interval all effort has stopped; there is no choice, no condemnation, no justification, and no identification; there is also no interpretation of any kind. Question: What is meant by examining the thought, in the state of silence? It is not I suppose merely to recognize it as a form of memory and to push it out, which is a process of choice and effort, but to recognize the significance of it. Krishnamurti: We are trying to see if the new can be met anew and understood without the burden of the past. Meeting of the new as the new is regeneration. I have understood a thought and that thought disappears. There is an interval of calm and clarity. Then a thought arises. How do I deal with that thought? If I try to deal with it with my memory, I cannot deal with it. Can you examine the thought without your memory? Question: I do not push that thought away. The thought disappears of itself. Krishnamurti: How do you deal with the thought without memory? Don't say who is dealing with it and so on. Do you condemn or analyze the thought or what do you do with it? Has not that interval a relationship with that thought? Does not that interval which is a state of being, which is new, meet the old which is the thought arising? This means the new is meeting the old; but, the new cannot absorb the old. The old can absorb the new and modify it; but the new cannot absorb the old. Therefore the new always extends and the old disappears by itself. There is no exclusion, no suppression, nor condemnation, nor avoidance. It is in this manner that the thought arising in the interval disappears. What happens in the interval? In experiencing that interval and communicating it, you must also be experiencing in order to see my communication. In that interval, another thought comes in. I recognize it. The mind in the form of that thought is now facing the interval which is new. The new is operating on the old and the old cannot be absorbed by the new, and therefore the thought disappears. This interval is extraordinary in that it is without thought, without effort, without choice. Question: Will there be pure perception then? Krishnamurti: In that interval, there will be complete cessation of desires. That interval is alert, passive, choiceless awareness. There is cessation of desire, cessation of thought. In that state which is experiencing, communication is impossible; i.e., words cannot be a means of experience. In that state, there is no sensation; and sensation is thought-process and thought-process is verbal. If you and I are experiencing the same state, then, because it is non-sensuous, we can understand each other. Regeneration is not a factor depending upon me; because, it cannot be brought about by any effort or any struggle on my part. In itself, that interval is living, it has action. I don't have to hold on to it and say 'it must live'. Without causation which is from memory, this interval lives by itself and it also gets lengthened. There is the experiencing of such a state in which there is no cause and effect. There is a state of being without causation, with no time in it (no yesterday producing today and no today producing tomorrow), a state without time and yet living vitally. In other words, this is a state of being in which there is living full of vitality, which has no causation and therefore timeless, and yet without death. There is also a newness which is not repetitive. That state is creation. In that state there is no effort; but, a new birth takes place always, a transformation not in terms of time taking place all the time. To sum up, this state of being is not exclusive, is not manufactured by will, is not the result of the past, is not the end of a desire, but is a state of real action without a cause, timeless, living and undergoing a transformation in itself. Experiencing and deepening of that state is also taking place. It is not one isolated experience but it is a state of constant experiencing. Therefore, regeneration is a constant revolution inside us. This regeneration is new and it will meet every problem anew. If that is functioning, that new meets the old without being contaminated by the old. Therefore, such a man can live even in the midst of a greedy world without being affected by that greed, but himself altering the greed in the world. This new is always moving and it transforms everything it meets. Now, your difficulty is not understanding a problem at all, but to have that interval between two thoughts. Therefore, you do not want to strive to be good, to be non-violent etc. You are only concerned with that interval with which you can live from moment to moment. You have no problem and nothing to maintain; for, as that interval functions, the problems as they arise will be promptly dealt with, by the new meeting the old without being in any way contaminated by the old. April 29, 1948 Bangalore 1948 - 1st Public Talk 2nd Public Talk 3rd Public Talk 4th Public Talk 5th Public Talk 6th Public Talk 7th Public Talk New Delhi 1948 - 3rd Public Talk Talk On Radio BANGALORE 1ST PUBLIC TALK 4TH JULY, 1948 Instead of making a speech, I am going to answer as many questions as possible, and before doing so, I would like to point out something with regard to answering questions. One can ask any question; but to have a right answer, the question must also be right. If it is a serious question put by a serious person, by an earnest person who is seeking out the solution of a very difficult problem, then, obviously, there will be an answer befitting that question. But what generally happens is that lots of questions are sent in, sometimes very absurd ones, and then there is a demand that all those questions be answered. It seems to me such a waste of time to ask superficial questions and expect very serious answers. I have several questions here, and I am going to try to answer them from what I think is the most serious point of view; and, if I may suggest, as this is a small audience, perhaps you will interrupt me if the answer is not very clear, so that you and I can discuss the question. Question: What can the average decent man do to put an end to our communal problem? Krishnamurti: Obviously the sense of separatism is spreading throughout the world. Each successive war is creating more separatism, more nationalism, more sovereign governments, and so on. Especially in India, this problem of communal dissension is on the increase. Why? First of all, obviously, because people are seeking jobs. The more separate governments there are, the more jobs there will be; but that is a very shortsighted policy, is it not? Because, eventually the world's tendency will be more and more towards federation, towards a coming together, and not a constant breaking up. Surely, any decent person who really thinks about this situation - which is not merely Indian, but a world affair - , must first be free from nationalism, not only in matters of state, but in thought, in action, in feeling. After all, communalism is merely a branch of nationalism. Belonging to a particular country, to a particular race or group of people, or to a particular ideology, tends more and more to divide people, to create antagonism and hatred between man and man. Obviously, that is not the solution to the world's chaos. So, what each one of us can do is to be non-communal: We can cease to be Brahmins, cease to belong to any caste or to any country. But that is very difficult, because by tradition, by occupation, by tendency, we are conditioned to a particular pattern of action; and to break away from it is extremely hard. We may want to break away, but family tradition, religious orthodoxy, and so on, all prevent us. It is only men of goodwill who really seek goodwill, who desire to be friendly; and only such men will free themselves from all these limitations which create chaos. So, it seems to me that to put an end to this communal contention, one must begin with oneself, and not wait for somebody else, for legislation, for government, to act. Because, after all, compulsion or legislation does not solve the problem. The spirit of communalism, separatism, of belonging to a particular class or ideology, to a religion, does ultimately create conflict and antagonism between human beings. Friendliness is not brought about by compulsion, and to look to compulsion, surely, is not the answer. So the way out of this is for each one, for every individual, for you and me, to break away from the communal spirit, from nationalism Is that not the only way out of this difficulty? Because, as long as the mind and the heart are not willing to be open and friendly, mere compulsion or legislation is not going to solve this problem. So, it is obviously the responsibility of each one of us, living as we do in a particular community, in a particular nation or group of people, to break away from the narrow spirit of separatism. The difficulty is that most of us have grievances. Most of us agree with the ideal that we should break away and create a new world, a new set of ideas, and so on; but when we go back home the compulsion of environmental influences is so strong that we fall back - and that is the greatest difficulty, is it not? Intellectually we agree about the absurdity of communal contention, but very few of us care to sit down and think out the whole issue and discover the contributory causes. Belonging to any particular group, whether of social action or of political action, does create antagonism, separatism; and real revolution is not brought about by following any particular ideology, because revolution based on ideology creates antagonisms at different levels and therefore is a continuation of the same thing. So this communal dissension, obviously, can come to an end only when we see the whole absurdity of separate action, of a particular ideology, morality, or organized religion - whether Christianity, Hinduism, or any other organized and limited religion. Audience: All this sounds very convincing, but in action it is very difficult; and as you say, when we go home most of us are entirely different people from what we are here. Although we may listen to you and think about what you say, the result depends on each one of us. There is always this "but." Audience: This move to do away with organized religion may itself form an organized religion. Krishnamurti: How, Sir? Audience: For instance, neither Christ nor Ramakrishna Paramahamsa wanted an organized religion; but forgetting the very essence of the teachings, people have built around them an organized religion. Krishnamurti: Why do we do this? Is it not because we want collective security, we want to feel safe? Audience: Are all institutions separatist in character? Krishnamurti: They are bound to be. Audience: Is even belonging to a family wicked? Krishnamurti: You are introducing the word "wicked", which I never used. Audience: We are repudiating our family system. Our family system is ancient. Krishnamurti: If it is misused, it must obviously be scrapped. Audience: So an institution by itself need not be separatist? Krishnamurti: Obviously. The post office is not separatist, because all communities use it. It is universal. So, why is it that individual human beings find it important to belong to something -to a religious organization, to a society, to a club, and so on? Why? Audience: There is no life without relationship. Krishnamurti: Obviously. But why seek separatism? Audience: There are natural relationships and unnatural relationships. A family is a natural relationship. Krishnamurti: I am just asking: why is there the desire, the urge, to belong to an exclusive group? Let us think it out, and not just make statements. Why is it that I belong to a particular caste or nation? Why do I call myself a Hindu? Why have we got this exclusive spirit? Audience: Selfishness. The ego of power. Krishnamurti: Throwing in a word or two does not mean an answer. There is some motive power, a drive, an intention, that makes us belong to a certain group of people. Why? Is it not important to find out? Why does one call oneself a German, an Englishman, a Hindu, a Russian? Is it not obvious that there is this desire to identify oneself with something, because identification with something large makes one feel important? That is the fundamental reason. Audience: Not always. A Harijan, for instance, belongs to a very low community. He does not take pride in it. Krishnamurti: But we keep him there. Why don't we invite him into our particular caste? Audience: We are trying to invite him. Audience: We are trying to invite him. Krishnamurti: But why is it that individuals identify themselves with the greater, with the nation, with an idea which is beyond them? Audience: Because from the moment the individual is born, certain ideas are instilled into him. These ideas develop, and he thinks he is a slave, In other words, he is so conditioned. Krishnamurti: Exactly. He is so conditioned that he cannot break away from his serfdom. The identification with the greater exists because one wants to be secure, safe, through belonging to a particular group of thought or of action. Sirs, this is obvious, is it not? In ourselves we are nothing, we are timid, afraid to remain alone, and therefore we want to identify ourselves with the larger, and in that identification we become very exclusive. This is a world process. This is not my opinion, it is exactly what is taking place. Identification is religiously or nationalistically inflamed at moments of great crisis; and the problem is vast, it is not just in India, it is everywhere throughout the world - this sense of identification with a particular group which gradually becomes exclusive and thereby creates between people antagonism, hatred. So, that is why, when answering this question, we will have to deal with nationalism as well as communalism, in which is also involved the identification with a particular organized religion. Audience: Why do we identify ourselves at all? Krishnamurti: For the very simple reason that if we did not identify ourselves with something we would be confused, we would be lost; and because of that fear, we identify ourselves in order to be safe. Audience: Fear of what? Is it not ignorance rather than fear? Krishnamurti: Call it what you like, fear or ignorance, they are all the same. So the point is really this: Can you and I be free from this fear, can we stand alone and not be exclusive? Aloneness is not exclusive; only loneliness is exclusive. Surely, that is the only way out of the problem; because, the individual is a world process, not a separate process, and as long as individuals identify themselves with a particular group or a particular section, they must be exclusive, thereby inevitably creating antagonism, hatred and conflict. Question: Man must know what God is, before he can know God. How are you going to introduce the idea of God to man without bringing God to man's level? Krishnamurti: You cannot, Sir. Now, what is the impetus behind the search for God, and is that search real? For most of us, it is an escape from actuality. So, we must be very clear in ourselves whether this search after God is an escape, or whether it is a search for truth in everything - truth in our relationships, truth in the value of things, truth in ideas. If we are seeking God merely because we are tired of this world and its miseries, then it is an escape. Then we create god, and therefore it is not God. The god of the temples, of the books, is not God, obviously - it is a marvellous escape. But if we try to find the truth, not in one exclusive set of actions, but in all our actions, ideas and relationships, if we seek the right evaluation of food, clothing and shelter, then, because our minds are capable of clarity and understanding, when we seek reality we shall find it. It will not then be an escape. But if we are confused with regard to the things of the world - food, clothing, shelter, relationship, and ideas - how can we find reality? We can only invent "reality." So, God, truth, or reality, is not to be known by a mind that is confused, conditioned, limited. How can such a mind think of reality or God? It has first to decondition itself. It has to free itself from its own limitations, and only then can it know what God is, obviously not before. Reality is the unknown, and that which is known is not the real. So, a mind that wishes to know reality has to free itself from its own conditioning, and that conditioning is imposed either externally or internally; and as long as the mind creates contention, conflict in relationship, it cannot know reality. So, if one is to know reality, the mind must be tranquil; but if the mind is compelled, disciplined to be tranquil, that tranquillity is in itself a limitation, it is merely self-hypnosis. The mind becomes free and tranquil only when it understands the values with which it is surrounded. So, to understand that which is the highest, the supreme, the real, we must begin very low, very near; that is, we have to find the value of things, of relationship, and of ideas, with which we are occupied every day. And without understanding them, how can the mind seek reality? It can invent "reality", it can copy, it can imitate; because it has read so many books, it can repeat the experience of others. But surely, that is not the real. To experience the real, the mind must cease to create; because, whatever it creates is still within the bondage of time. The problem is not whether there is or is not God, but how man may discover God; and if in his search he disentangles himself from everything, he will inevitably find that reality. But he must begin with the near and not with the far. Obviously, to go far one must begin near. But most of us want to speculate, which is a very convenient escape. That is why religions offer such a marvellous drug for most people. So, the task of disentangling the mind from all the values which it has created is an extremely arduous one, and because our minds are weary, or we are lazy, we prefer to read religious books and speculate about God; but that, surely, is not the discovery of reality. Realizing is experiencing, not imitating. Question: Is the mind different from the thinker? Krishnamurti: Now, is the thinker different from his thoughts? Does the thinker exist without thoughts? Is there a thinker apart from thought? Stop thinking, and where is the thinker? Is the thinker of one thought different from the thinker of another thought? Is the thinker separate from his thought, or does thought create the thinker, who then identifies himself with thought when he finds it convenient, and separates himself when it is not convenient? That is, what is the "I", the thinker? Obviously, the thinker is composed of various thoughts which have become identified as the "me". So, the thoughts produce the thinker, not the other way round. If I have no thoughts, then there is no thinker; not that the thinker is different each time, but if there are no thoughts there is no thinker. So, thoughts produce the thinker, as actions produce the actor. The actor does not produce actions. Audience: You seem to suggest, Sir, that by ceasing to think, the "I" will be absent. Krishnamurti: The I is made up of my qualities, my idiosyncracies, my passions, my possessions, my house, my money, my wife, my books. These create the idea of "me", I do not create them. Do you agree? Audience: We find it difficult to agree. Krishnamurti: If all thoughts were to cease, the thinker would not be there. Therefore, the thoughts produce the thinker. Audience: All the thoughts and environments are there, but that does not produce the thinker. Krishnamurti: How does the thinker come into being? Audience: He is there. Krishnamurti: You take it for granted that he is there. Why do you say so? Audience: That we do not know. You must answer that for us. Krishnamurti: I say the thinker is not there. There is only the action, the thought, and then the thinker comes in. Audience: How does the "I", the thinker, come into being? Krishnamurti: Now, let us go very slowly. Let us all try to approach the problem with the intention of finding the truth, then discussing it will be worthwhile. We are trying to find out how the thinker, the "I", the "mine", comes into being. Now, first there is perception, then contact, desire, and identification. Before that, the "I" is not in existence. Audience: When my mind is away, I shall not perceive at all. Unless there is first the perceiver, there is no sensation. A dead body cannot perceive, though the eyes and the nerves may be there. Krishnamurti: You take it for granted that there is a superior entity, and the object it sees. Audience: It appears so. Krishnamurti: You say so. You take it for granted that there is. why? Audience: My experience is that without the cooperation of the "I", there is no perception. Krishnamurti: We cannot talking of pure perception. Perception is always mixed up with the perceiver - it is a joint phenomenon. If we talk of perception, the perceiver is immediately dragged in. It is beyond our experience to speak of perceiving, we never have such an experience as perceiving. You may fall into a deep sleep, when the perceiver does not perceive himself; but in deep sleep there is neither perception nor perceiver. If you know a state in which the perceiver is perceiving himself without bringing in other objects of perception, then only can you validly speak of the perceiver. As long as that state is unknown, we have no right to talk of the perceiver as apart from perception. So, the perceiver and the perception are a joint phenomenon, they are the two sides of the same medal. They are not separate, and we have no right to separate two things which are not separate. We insist on separating the perceiver from the perception when there is no valid ground for it. We know no perceiver without perception, and we know no perception without a perceiver. Therefore, the only valid conclusion is that perception and perceiver, the "I" and the will, are two sides of the same medal, they are two aspects of the same phenomenon, which is neither perception nor perceiver; but an accurate examination of it requires close attention. Audience: Where does that take us? Audience: We must discover a state in which perceiver and perception do not exist apart, but are part and parcel of the same phenomenon. The act of perceiving, feeling, thinking, brings in the division of perceiver and perception, because that is the basic phenomenon of life. If we can follow up these fleeting moments of perceiving, of knowing, of feeling, of acting, and divorce them from perception on the one side, and the perceiver on the other. Krishnamurti: Sir, this question arose out of the enquiry about the search for God. Obviously, most of us want to know the experience of reality. Surely, it can be known only when the experiencer stops experiencing; because, the experiencer is creating the experience. If the experiencer is creating the experience, then he will create god; therefore, it will not be God. Can the experiencer cease? That is the whole point in this question. Now, if the experiencer and the experience are a joint phenomenon, which is so obvious, then the experiencer, the actor, the thinker, has to stop thinking. Is that not obvious? So, can the thinker cease to think? Because, when he thinks, he creates, and what he creates is not the real. Therefore, to find out whether there is or there is not reality, God, or what you will, the thought process has to come to an end, which means that the thinker must cease. Whether he is produced by thoughts is irrelevant for the moment. The whole thought process, which includes the thinker, has to come to an end. It is only then that we will find reality. Now, first of all, in bringing that process to an end, how is it to be done, and who is to do it? If the thinker does it, the thinker is still the product of thought. The thinker putting an end to thought is still the continuity of thought. So, what is the thinker to do? Any exertion on his part is still the thinking process. I hope I am making myself clear. Audience: It may even mean resistance to thinking. Krishnamurti: Resistance to thinking, putting down all thinking, is still a form of thinking; therefore the thinker continues, and therefore he can never find the truth. So, what is one to do? This is very serious and requires sustained attention. Any effort on the part of the thinker projects the thinker on a different level. That is a fact. If the thinker, the experiencer, positively or negatively makes an effort to understand reality, he is still maintaining the thought process. So, what is he to do? All that he can do is to realize that any effort on his part, positively or negatively, is detrimental. He must see the truth of that and not merely verbally understand it. He must see that he cannot act, because any action on his part maintains the actor, gives nourishment to the actor; any effort on his part, positively or negatively, gives strength to the "I", the thinker, the experiencer. So all that he can do is not to do anything. Even to wish positively or negatively is still part of thinking. He must see the fact that any effort he makes is detrimental to the discovery of truth. That is the first requirement. If I want to understand, I must be completely free from prejudice; and I cannot be in that state when I am making an effort, negatively or positively. It is extremely hard. It requires a sense of passive awareness in which there is no effort. It is only then that reality can project itself. Audience: Concentration upon the projected reality? Krishnamurti: Concentration is another form of exertion, which is still an act of thinking. Therefore, concentration will obviously not lead to reality. Audience: You said that, positively or negatively, any action on the part of the thinker is a projection of the thinker. Krishnamurti: It is a fact, Sir. Comment from the Audience: In other words, you distinguish between awareness and thought. Krishnamurti: I am going at it slowly. When we talk of concentration, concentration implies compulsion, exclusion, interest in something exclusive, in which choice is involved. That implies effort on the part of the thinker, which strengthens the thinker. Is that not a fact? So, we will have to go into the problem of thought. What is thought? Thought is reaction to a condition, which means thought is the response of memory; and how can memory which is the past, create the eternal? Audience: We do not say memory creates it because memory is a thing without awareness. Krishnamurti: It is unconscious, subconscious, it comes of its own accord, involuntarily. We are now trying to find out what we mean by thought. To understand this question, don't look into a dictionary, look at yourself, examine yourself. What do you mean by thinking? When you say you are thinking, what are you actually doing? You are reacting. You are reacting through your past memory. Now, what is memory? It is experience, the storing up of yesterday's experience, whether collective or individual. Experience of yesterday is memory. When do we remember an experience? Surely, only when it is not complete. I have an experience, and that experience is incomplete, unfinished, and it leaves a mark. That mark I call memory, and memory responds to a further challenge. This response of memory to a challenge is called thinking. Audience: On what is the mark left? Krishnamurti: On the "me". After all, the "me", the "mine", is the residue of all memories, collective, racial, individual, and so on. That bundle of memories is the "me", and that "me" with its memory responds. That response is called thinking. Audience: Why are these memories bundled together? Krishnamurti: Through identification. I put everything in a bag, consciously or unconsciously. Comment from the Audience: So, there is a bag separate from memory. Krishnamurti: Memory is the bag. Comment from the audience: Why do the memories stick together? Krishnamurti: Because they are incomplete. Audience: But memories are non-existent, they are in a state of inertia, unless somebody is there to remember. Krishnamurti: In other words, is the rememberer different from memory? The rememberer and the memory are two sides of a coin. Without memory, there is no rememberer, and without the rememberer, there is no memory. Audience: Why do we insist on separating the perceiver from the perception, the rememberer from the memory? Is this not at the root of our trouble? Krishnamurti: We separate it because the rememberer, the experiencer, the thinker, becomes permanent by separation. Memories are obviously fleeting; so the rememberer, the experiencer, the mind, separates itself because it wants permanency. The mind that is making an effort, that is striving, that is choosing, that is disciplined, obviously cannot find the real; because, as we said, through that very effort it projects itself and sustains the thinker. Now, how to free the thinker from his thoughts? This is what we are discussing. Because, whatever he thinks must be the result of the past, and therefore he creates god, truth, out of memory, which is obviously not real. In other words, the mind is constantly moving from the known to the known. When memory functions, the mind can move only in the field of the known; and when it moves within the field of the known, it can never know the unknown. So, our problem is, how to free the mind from the known. To free ourselves from the known, any effort is detrimental, because effort is still of the known. So, all effort must cease. Have you ever tried to be without effort? If I understand that all effort is futile, that all effort is a further projection of the mind, of the "I", of the thinker, if I realize the truth of that, what happens? If I see very clearly the label "poison" on a bottle, I leave it alone. There is no effort not to be attracted to it. Similarly - and in this lies the greatest difficulty - , if I realize that any effort on my part is detrimental, if I see the truth of that, then I am free of effort. Any effort on our part is detrimental, but we are not sure, because we want a result, we want an achievement - and that is our difficulty. Therefore, we go on striving, striving, striving. But God, truth, is not a result, a reward, an end. Surely, it must come to us, we cannot go to it. If we make an effort to go to it, we are seeking a result, an achievement. But for truth to come, a man must be passively aware. Passive awareness is a state in which there is no effort; it is to be aware without judgment, without choice, not in some ultimate sense, but in every way; it is to be aware of your actions, of your thoughts, of your relative responses, without choice, without condemnation, without identifying or denying, so that the mind begins to understand every thought and every action without judgment. This evokes the question of whether there can be understanding without thought. Audience: Surely, if you are indifferent to something. Krishnamurti: Sir, indifference is a form of judgment. A dull mind, an indifferent mind, is not aware. To see without judgment, to know exactly what is happening, is awareness. So, it is vain to seek God or truth without being aware now, in the immediate present. It is much easier to go to a temple, but that is an escape into the realm of speculation. To understand reality, we must know it directly, and reality is obviously not of time and space; it is in the present, and the present is our own thought and action. July 4, 1948 BANGALORE 2ND PUBLIC TALK 11TH JULY, 1948 In a talk like this it is more important, I think, to experience what is being said rather than to discuss merely on the verbal level. One is apt to remain on the verbal level without deeply experiencing what is said; and experiencing an actual fact is much more important than to discover if the ideas themselves are true or not, because ideas are never going to transform the world. Revolution is not based on mere ideas. Revolution comes only when there is a fundamental conviction, a realization, that there must be an inward transformation, not merely an outward one, however significant the outward demand may be. What I would like to discuss here during these five Sunday meetings is how to bring about, not a superficial change, but a radical transformation which is so essential in a world that is rapidly disintegrating. If we are at all observant, it should be obvious to most of us whether we travel or remain in one place, that a fundamental change or revolution is necessary. But to perceive the full significance of such a revolution is difficult; because, though we think we want a change, a modification, a revolution, most of us look to a particular pattern of action, to a system either of the left or of the right, or in between. We see the confusion, the frightful mess, the misery, the starvation, the impending war; and, obviously, the thoughtful demand action. But unfortunately, we look to action according to a particular formula or theory. The left has a system, a pattern of action, and so has the right. But can there be revolution according to any particular pattern of action, according to a line laid down, or does revolution come into being from the awakened individual's interest and awareness? Surely, it is only when the individual is awake and responsible that there can be a revolution. Now, obviously, most of us want an agreed plan of action. We see the mess, not only in India and in our own lives, but throughout the world. In every corner of the world there is confusion, there is misery, there is appalling strife and suffering. There is never a moment when men can be secure; because, as the arts of war are developed more and more, the destruction becomes greater and greater. We know all that. That is an obvious fact which we need not go into. But is it not important to find out what our relationship is to this whole confusion, chaos and misery? Because, after all, if we can discover our relationship to the world and understand that relationship, then perhaps we may be able to alter this confusion. So, first, we must clearly see the relationship that exists between the world and ourselves, and then perhaps, if we change our lives, there can be a fundamental and radical change in the world in which we live. So, what is the relationship between ourselves and the world? Is the world different from us, or is each one of us the result of a total process, not separate from the world but part of the world? That is, you and I are the result of a world process, of a total process, not of a separate, individualistic process; because after all, you are the result of the past, you are conditioned through environmental influences, political, social, economic, geographical, climatic, and so on. You are the result of a total process; therefore, you are not separate from the world. You are the world, and what you are, the world is. Therefore, the world's problem is your problem; and if you solve your problem, you solve the world's problem. So, the world is not separate from the individual. To try to solve the world's problem without solving your individual problem is futile, utterly empty, because you and I make up the world. Without you and me, there is no world. So, the world problem is your problem. it is an obvious fact. Though we would like to think that we are individualistic in our actions, separate, independent, apart, that narrow individualistic action of each human being is, after all, part of a total process which we call the world. So, to understand the world and to bring about a radical transformation in the world, we must begin with ourselves with you and me, and not with somebody else. Mere reformation of the world has no meaning without the transformation of you who create the world. Because, after all, the world is not distant from you; it is where you live, the world of your family, of your friends, of your neighbours; and if you and I can fundamentally transform ourselves, then there is a possibility of changing the world, and not otherwise. That is why all great changes and reforms in the world have begun with a few, with indivi- duals, with you and me. So-called mass action is merely the collective action of individuals who are convinced, and mass action has significance only when the individuals in the mass are awake; but if they are hypnotized by words, by an ideology, then mass action must lead to disaster. So, seeing that the world is in an appalling mess, with impending wars, starvation, the disease of nationalism, with corrupt organized religious ideologies at work - recognizing all this, it is obvious that to bring about a fundamental, radical revolution, we must begin with ourselves. You may say, "I am willing to change myself, but it will take an infinite number of years if each individual is to change". But is that a fact? Let it take a number of years. If you and I are really convinced, really see the truth that revolution must begin with ourselves and not with somebody else, will it take very long to convince, to transform the world? Because you are the world, your actions will affect the world you live in, which is the world of your relationships. But the difficulty is to recognize the importance of individual transformation. We demand world transformation, the transformation of society about us, but we are blind, unwilling to transform ourselves. What is society? Surely, it is the relationship between you and me. What you are and what I am produces relationship and creates society. So, to transform society, whether it calls itself Hindu, communist, capitalist, or what you will, our relationship has to change, and relationship does not depend on legislation, on governments, on outward circumstances, but entirely upon you and me. Though we are a product of the outward environment, we obviously have the power to transform ourselves, which means seeing the importance of the truth that there can be revolution only when you and I understand ourselves, and not merely the structure which we call society. So, that is the first difficulty we have to face in all these talks. The aim is not to bring about a reformation through new legislation, because legislation ever demands further legislation; but it is to see the truth that you and I, on whatever social level we may live, wherever we are, must bring about a radical, lasting revolution in ourselves. And as I said, revolution which is not static, which is lasting, revolution which is constant from moment to moment, cannot come into being according to my plan, either of the left or of the right. That constant revolution which is self-sustaining can come into being only when you and I realize the importance of individual transformation; and I am going to discuss with you, I am going to talk and answer questions from that point of view during the five Sundays that follow. Now, if you observe, you will find that in all historical revolutions there is revolt according to a pattern; and when the flame of that revolt comes to an end, there is a falling back into the old pattern, either on a higher or a lower level. Such a revolution is not revolution at all - it is only a change, which means a modified continuity. A modified continuity does not relieve suffering; change does not lead to the cessation of sorrow. What does lead to the cessation of sorrow is to see yourself individually as you are, to be aware of your own thoughts and feelings and to bring about a revolution in your thoughts and feelings. So, as I said, those of you who look to a pattern of action will, I am afraid, be liable to disappointment during these talks. Because, it is very easy to invent a pattern, but it is much more difficult to think out the issues and see the problem clearly. If we merely look for an answer to a problem, whether economic, social or human, we shall not understand the problem, because we shall be concentrated upon the answer, and not upon the problem itself. We shall be studying the answer, the solution. Whereas, if we study the question, the problem itself, then we shall find that the answer, the solution, lies in the problem and not away from the problem. So, our problem is the transformation of the individual, of you and me, because the individual's problem is the world's problem, they are not separate. What you are, the world is - which is so obvious. What is our present society? Our present society, whether Western or Eastern, is the result of man's cunning, deceit, greed, ill will, and so on. You and I have created the structure, and only you and I can destroy it and introduce a new society. But to create the new society, the new culture, you must examine and understand the structure which is disintegrating, which you and I have built together. And to understand that which you have built, you must understand the psychological process of your being. So, without self-knowledge, there can be no revolution, and a revolution is essential - not of the bloody kind, which is comparatively easy, but a revolution through self-knowledge. That is the only lasting and permanent revolution, because self-knowledge is a constant movement of thought and feeling in which there is no refuge, it is a constant flow of the understanding of what you are. So, the study of oneself is far more important than the study of how to bring about a reformation in the world; because, if you understand yourself and thereby change yourself, there will naturally be a revolution. To look to a panacea, to a pattern of action for revolution in outward life, may bring about a temporary change; but each temporary change demands further change and further bloodshed. Whereas, if we study very carefully the problem of ourselves, which is so complex, then we shall bring about a far greater revolution of a much more lasting, more valuable kind, than the mere economic or social revolution. So, I hope we see the truth and the importance of this: that, with the world in such confusion, misery and starvation, to bring order in this chaos we must begin with ourselves. But most of us are too lazy or too dull to begin to transform ourselves. It is so much easier to leave it to others, to wait for new legislation, to speculate and compare. But our issue is to study the problem of suffering intelligently and wisely, to see its causes which lie, not in outward circumstances but in ourselves, and to bring about a transformation. To study any problem, there must be the intention to understand it, the intention to go into it, to unravel it, not to avoid it. If the problem is sufficiently great and immediate, the intention also is strong; but ff the problem is not great, or if we do not see its urgency, the intention becomes weak. Whereas, if we are fully aware of the problem and have a clear and definite intention to study it, then we shall not look to outward authorities, to a leader, to a guru, to an organized system; because the problem is ourselves, it cannot be resolved by a system, a formula, a guru, a leader or a government. Once the intention is clear, then the understanding of oneself becomes comparatively easy. But to establish this intention is the greatest difficulty, because no one can help us in understanding ourselves. Others may verbally paint the picture; but to experience a fact which is in us, to see without judgment a particular thought, action, or feeling, is much more important than verbally to listen to others, or to follow a particular rule of conduct, and so on. So, the first thing is to realize that the world's problem is the individual's problem; it is your problem and my problem, and the world's process is not separate from the individual process. They are a joint phenomenon, and therefore what you do, what you think, what you feel, is far more important than to introduce legislation or to belong to a particular party or group of people. That is the first truth to be realized, which is obvious. A revolution in the world is essential; but revolution according to a particular pattern of action is not a revolution. A revolution can take place only when you, the individual, understand yourself and therefore create a new process of action. Surely, we need a revolution, because everything is going to pieces; social structures are disintegrating, there are wars and more wars. We are standing on the edge of a precipice, and obviously there must be some kind of transformation, for we cannot go on as we are. The left offers a kind of revolution, and the right proposes a modification of the left. But such revolutions are not revolutions; they do not solve the problem, because the human entity is much too complex to be understood through a mere formula. And as a constant revolution is necessary, it can only begin with you, with your understanding of yourself. That is a fact, that is the truth, and you cannot avoid it from whatever angle you approach it. After seeing the truth of that, you must establish the intention to study the total process of yourself; because, what you are, the world is. If your mind is bureaucratic, you will create a bureaucratic world, a stupid world, a world of red tape; if you are greedy, envious, narrow, nationalistic, you will create a world in which there is nationalism, which destroys human beings, a social structure based on greed, division, property, and so on. So, what you are, the world is: and without your transformation, there can be no transformation of the world. But to study oneself demands extraordinary care, extraordinarily swift pliability, and a mind burdened with the desire for a result can never follow the swift movement of thought. So then, the first difficulty is to see the truth that the individual is responsible, that you are responsible for the whole mess; and when you see your responsibility, to establish the intention to observe and therefore to bring about a radical transformation in yourself. Now, if the intention is there, then we can proceed, then we can begin to study ourselves. To study yourself, you must come with an unburdened mind, must you not? But once you assert that you are Atman, paramatman, or whatever it is, once you seek a satisfaction of that kind, then you are already caught in a framework of thought, and therefore you are not studying your total process. You are looking at yourself through a screen of ideas, which is not study, which is not observation. If I want to know you, what do I have to do? I have to study you, have I not? I cannot condemn you because you are a Brahmin or belong to some other blinking caste. I must study you, I must watch you, I must observe your moods, your temperament, your speech, your words, your mannerisms, and so on. But if I look at you through a screen of prejudice, of conclusions, then I do not understand you; I am only studying my own conclusions, which have no significance when I am trying to understand you. Similarly, if I want to understand myself, I must discard the whole set of screens, the traditions and beliefs established by other people, it does not matter if it is Buddha, Socrates, or anybody else; because, the "you", the "I", is an extraordinarily complex entity, with a different mask, a different facet, depending on time and occasion, circumstance, environmental influence, and so on. The self is not a static entity; and to know and understand oneself is far more important than to study the sayings of others or to look at oneself through the screen of others. experiences. So, when the intention is there to study ourselves, then the screens, the assertions, the knowledge and experiences of others, obviously have no value. Because, if I want to know myself, I must know what I am, and not what I should be. A hypothetical "me" has no value. If I want to know the truth of something, I must look at it, not shut the door on it. If I am studying a motorcar, I must study it for itself, not compare a Packard with a Rolls Royce. I must study the car as the Rolls Royce, as the Packard, as the Ford. The individual is of the highest importance, because he, in his relationships, creates the world. When we see the truth of that, we shall begin to study ourselves irrespective of the assertions of others, however great. Then only shall we be able to follow without condemnation or justification the whole process of every thought and feeling that exists in us, and so begin to understand it. So, when the intention is there, I can proceed to investigate that which I am. Obviously, I am the product of environment. That is the beginning, the first fact to see. To find out if I am anything more than merely a product of environmental and climatic influences, I must first be free from those influences which exist about me and of which I am the product. I am the result of the conditions, the absurdities, the superstitions, the innumerable factors, good and bad, which form the environment about me; and to find out if I am something more, I must obviously be free of those influences, must I not? To understand something more, I must first understand what is. Merely to assert that I am something more has no meaning until I am free from the environmental influences of the society in which I am living. Freedom is the discovery of not merely a denial of them. Surely, freedom comes with the discovery of truth in everything that is about me - the truth of property, the truth of things, the truth of relationship, the truth of ideas. Without discovering the truth of these things, I cannot find what one may call the abstract truth or God. Being caught in the things about me, obviously the mind cannot go further, cannot see or discover what is beyond. A man who is seeking to understand himself, must understand his relationship to things, to property, to possessions, to country, to ideas, to the people immediately about him. This discovery of the truth of relationship is not a matter of repeating words, verbally throwing at others ideas about relationship. The discovery of the truth of relationship comes only through experience in relationship with property, with people, with ideas; and it is that truth which liberates, not mere effort to be free from property or from relationship. One can discover the truth of property, of relationship, of ideas, only when there is the intention to find out the truth and not be influenced by prejudice, by the demands of a particular society or belief, or by preconceptions concerning God, truth, or what you will; because, the name, the word, is not the thing. The word "God" is not God, it is only a word; and to go beyond the verbal level of the mind, of knowledge, one must experience directly, and to experience directly one must be free from those values which the mind creates and clings to. Therefore, to understand this psychological process of oneself is far more important than to understand the process of outward environmental influences. It is important to understand yourself first, because in understanding yourself you will bring about a revolution in your relationships and thereby create a new world. I have been given several ques- tions, and I shall answer some of them. Question: How can we solve our present political chaos and the crisis in the world? Is there anything an individual can do to stop the impending war? Krishnamurti: War is the spectacular and bloody projection of our everyday life, is it not? War is merely an outward expression of our inward state, an enlargement of our daily action. It is more spectacular, more bloody, more destructive, but it is the collective result of our individual activities. So, you and I are responsible for war, and what can we do to stop it? Obviously, the impending war cannot be stopped by you and me, because it is already in movement; it is already taking place though still chiefly on the psychological level. It has already begun in the world of ideas, though it may take a little longer for our bodies to be destroyed. As it is already in movement, it cannot be stopped - the issues are too many, too great, and are already committed. But you and I, seeing that the house is on fire, can understand the causes of that fire, can go away from it and build in a new place with different materials that are not combustible, that will not produce other wars. That is all that we can do. You and I can see what creates wars, and if we are interested in stopping wars, then we can begin to transform ourselves, who are the causes of war. So, what causes war -religious, political or economic? Obviously, belief, either in nationalism, in an ideology, or in a particular dogma. If we had no belief, but goodwill, love and consideration between us, then there would be no wars. But we are fed on beliefs, ideas and dogmas, and therefore we breed discontent. Surely, the present crisis is of an exceptional nature, and we as human beings must either pursue the path of constant conflict and continuous wars which are the result of our everyday action, or else see the causes of war and turn our back upon them. Obviously, what causes war is the desire for power, position, prestige, money, and also the disease called nationalism, the worship of a flag, and the disease of organized religion, the worship of a dogma. All these are the causes of war; and if you as an individual belong to any of the organized religions, if you are greedy for power, if you are envious, you are bound to produce a society which will result in destruction. So again, it depends upon you and not on the leaders, not on Stalin, Churchill, and all the rest of them. It depends upon you and me, but we do not seem to realize that. If once we really felt the responsibility of our own actions, how quickly we could bring to an end all these wars, this appalling misery!But you see, we are indifferent. We have three meals a day, we have our jobs, we have our bank accounts, big or little, and we say, "For God's sake, don't disturb us, leave us alone". The higher up we are, the more we want security, permanency, tranquillity, the more we want to be left alone, to maintain things fixed as they are; but they cannot be maintained as they are, because there is nothing to maintain. Everything is disintegrating. We do not want to face these things, we do not want to face the fact that you and I are responsible for wars. You and I may talk about peace, have conferences, sit around a table and discuss; but inwardly, psychologically, we want power, position, we are motivated by greed. We intrigue, we are nationalistic, we are bound by beliefs, by dogmas, for which we are willing to die and destroy each other. Do you think such men, you and I, can have peace in the world? To have peace, we must be peaceful; to live peacefully means not to create antagonism. Peace is not a ideal. To me, an ideal is merely an escape, an avoidance of what is, a contradiction of what is. An ideal prevents direct action upon what is - which we will go into presently, in another talk. But to have peace, we will have to love, we will have to begin, not to live an ideal life, but to see things as they are and act upon them, transform them. As long as each one of us is seeking psychological security, the physiological security we need - food, clothing and shelter - is destroyed. We are seeking psychological security, which does not exist; and we seek it, if we can, through power, through position, through titles, names - all of which is destroying physical security. This is an obvious fact, if you look at it. So, to bring about peace in the world, to stop all wars, there must be a revolution in the individual, in you and me. Economic revolution without this inward revolution is meaningless, for hunger is the result of the maladjustment of economic conditions produced by our psychological states - greed, envy, ill will and possessiveness. To put an end to sorrow, to hunger, to war, there must be a psychological revolution, and few of us are willing to face that. We will discuss peace, plan legislation, create new leagues, the United Nations, and so on and on; but we will not win peace, because we will not give up our position, our authority, our monies, our properties, our stupid lives. To rely on others is utterly futile; others cannot bring us peace. No leader is going to give us peace, no government, no army, no country. What will bring peace is inward transformation which will lead to outward action. Inward transformation is not isolation, is not a withdrawal from outward action. On the contrary, there can be right thinking, and there is no right thinking when there is no self-knowledge. Without knowing yourself, there is no peace. To put an end to outward war, you must begin to put an end to war in yourself. Some of you will shake your heads and say, "I agree", and go outside and do exactly the same as you have been doing for the last ten or twenty years. Your agreement is merely verbal and has no significance, for the world's miseries and wars are not going to be stopped by your casual assent. They will be stopped only when you realize the danger, when you realize your responsibility, when you do not leave it to somebody else. If you realize the suffering, if you see the urgency of immediate action and do not postpone, then you will transform yourself; and peace will come only when you yourself are peaceful, when you yourself are at peace with your neighbour. Question: Family is the framework of our love and greed, of our selfishness and division. What is its place in your scheme of things? Krishnamurti: Sirs, I have no scheme of things. See in what an absurd way we are thinking of life! Life is a living thing, a dynamic, active thing, and you cannot put it in a frame. It is the intellectuals who put life in a frame, who have a scheme to systematize it. So, I have no scheme, but let us look at the facts. First, there is the fact of our relationship with another, whether it is with a wife, a husband or a child - the relationship which we call the family. Let us examine the fact of what is, not what we should like it to be. Anyone can have rash ideas about family life; but if we can look at, examine, understand what is, then perhaps we shall be able to transform it. But merely to cover up what is with a lovely set of words, calling it responsibility, duty, love - all that has no meaning. So, what we are going to do is to examine what we call the family. Because Sirs, to understand something, we must examine what is, and not cover it up with sweet-sounding phrases. Now, what is it that you call the family? Obviously, it is a relationship of intimacy, of communion. Now, in your family, in your relationship with your wife, with your husband, is there communion? Surely, that is what we mean by relationship, do we not? Relationship means communion without fear, freedom to understand each other, to communicate directly. Obviously, relationship means that - to be in communion with another. Are you? Are you in communion with your wife? Perhaps you are physically, but that is not relationship. You and your wife live on opposite sides of a wall of isolation, do you not? You have your own pursuits, your ambitions, and she has hers. You live behind the wall and occasionally look over the top - and that you call relationship. That is a fact, is it not? You may enlarge it, soften it, introduce a new set of words to describe it, but that is the actual fact - that you and another live in isolation, and that life in isolation you call relationship. Now, if there is real relationship between two people, which means there is communion between them, then the implications are enormous. Then there is no isolation, then there is love and not responsibility or duty. It is the people who are isolated behind their walls that talk about duty and responsibility. But a man who loves does not talk about responsibility - he loves. Therefore he shares with another his joy, his sorrow, his money. Are our families such? Is there direct communion with your wife, with your children? Obviously not, Sirs. Therefore, the family is merely an excuse to continue your name or tradition, to give you what you want, sexually or psychologically. So, the family becomes a means of self-perpetuation, of carrying on your name. That is one kind of immortality, one kind of permanency. Also, the family is used as a means of gratification. I exploit others ruthlessly in the business world, in the political or social world outside, and at home I try to be kind and generous. How absurd!Or the world is too much for me, I want peace, and I go home. I suffer in the world, and I go home and try to find comfort. So I use relationship as a means of gratification, which means I do not want to be disturbed by my relationship. So, what is happening, Sirs, is this, is it not? In our families there is isolation and not communion, and therefore there is no love. Love and sex are two different things, which we will discuss another time. We may develop in our isolation a form of selflessness, a devotion, a kindness, but it is always behind the wall, because we are more concerned with ourselves than with others. If you were concerned with others, if you were really in communion with your wife, with your husband, and were therefore open to your neighbour, the world would not be in this misery. That is why families in isolation become a danger to society. So then, how to break down this isolation? To break down this isolation, we must be aware of it, we must not be detached from it or say that it does not exist. It does exist, that is an obvious fact. Be aware of the way you treat your wife, your husband, your children, be aware of the callousness, the brutality, the traditional assertions, the false education. Do you mean to say, Sirs and Ladies, that if you loved your wife or your husband we would have this conflict and misery in the world? It is because you do not know how to love your wife, your husband, that you don't know how to love God. You want God as a further means of isolation, a further means of security. After all, God is the ultimate security; but such a search is not for God, it is merely a refuge, an escape. To find God you must know how to love, not God, but the human beings around you, the trees, the flowers, the birds. Then, when you know how to love them, you will really know what it is to love God. Without loving another, without knowing what it means to be completely in communion with one another, you cannot be in communion with truth. But you see, we are not thinking of love, we are not concerned with being in communion with another. We want security, either in the family, in property, or in ideas; and where the mind is seeking security, it can never know love. For love is the most dangerous thing, because when we love somebody, we are vulnerable, we are open; and we do not want to be open. We do not want to be vulnerable. We want to be enclosed, we want to be more at ease within ourselves. So again, Sirs, to bring about transformation in our relationship is not a matter of legislation, of compulsion according to Shastras, and all that. To bring about radical transformation in relationship, we must begin with ourselves. Watch yourself, how you treat your wife and children. Your wife is a woman, and that is the end of it -she is to be used as a doormat!Don't look at the ladies, look at yourselves. Sirs, I don't think you realize what a catastrophic state the world is in at the present time, otherwise you wouldn't be so casual about all this. We are at the edge of a precipice - moral, social and spiritual. You don't see that the house is burning and you are living in it. If you knew that the house is burning, if you knew that you are on the edge of a precipice, you would act. But unfortunately, you are at ease, you are afraid, you are comfortable, you are dull, you are weary, demanding immediate satisfaction. Therefore you let things drift, and therefore the world's catastrophe is approaching. It is not a mere threat, it is an actual fact. In Europe war is already moving - war, war, war, disintegration, insecurity. After all, what affects another affects you. You are responsible for another, and you cannot shut your eyes and say, "I am secure in Bangalore". That is obviously a very shortsighted and stupid thought. So, the family becomes a danger where there is isolation between husband and wife, between parents and children, because then the family encourages general isolation; but when the walls of isolation are broken down in the family, then you are in communion, not only with your wife and children, but with your neighbour. Then the family is not enclosed, limited, it is not a refuge, an escape. So the problem is not somebody else's, but our own. Question: How do you propose to justify your claim of being the World Teacher? Krishnamurti: I am not really interested in justifying it. The label is not what matters, Sirs. The degree, the title does not matter: what matters is what you are. So, scrap the title - put it in the wastebasket, burn, destroy it, get rid of it. We live by words, we don't live by the reality of what is. What does it matter what I call myself or don't call myself? What matters is whether what I am saying is truth; and if it is truth, then find out the truth and live by it for yourselves. Sirs, titles, whether spiritual titles or titles of the world, are a means of exploiting people. And we like to be exploited. Both the exploiter and the exploited enjoy the exploitation. (Laughter), You laugh, you see! And that is all you will do, because you don't see that you yourself are exploited and therefore create the exploiter -whether the capitalistic exploiter or the communistic exploiter. We live by titles, words, phrases, which have no meaning; that is why we are inwardly empty, and that is why we suffer. Sirs, do examine what is being said, or what I say, and don't merely live on the verbal level, for on that level there can be no experience. You may read all the books in the world, all the sacred books and psychological books, but merely living on that level will not satisfy you; and I am afraid that is what is happening. We are empty in ourselves, and that is why we fall in with other peoples ideas, other peoples" experiences, moods, mottos, and thereby we become stagnant; and that is what is happening throughout the world. We look to authority, to the guru, the teacher, which is all on the verbal level. To experience the truth for yourself, to understand and not follow somebody else's understanding you must leave the verbal level. To understand the truth for yourself, you must be free of all authority, the worship of another, however great; for authority is the most pernicious poison that prevents direct experience. Without direct experience, without understanding, there can be no realization of the truth. So, I am not introducing new ideas, because ideas do not radically transform mankind. They may bring superficial revolutions, but what we are trying to do is something quite different. In all these talks and discussions, if you care to attend them, we are trying to understand what it is to look at things as they are; and in understanding things as they are, there is a transformation. To know that I am greedy, without finding excuses for it or condemning it, without idealizing its opposite and saying. "I must not be greedy" - simply to know that I am greedy, is already the beginning of transformation. But you see, you don't want to know what you are, but what the guru is, what the teacher is. You worship others because it gives you gratification. It is very much easier to escape by studying somebody else than to look at yourself as you are. Sirs, God or truth is within, not in illusions. But to understand that which is, is very difficult; for that which is, is not static, it is constantly changing, undergoing modifications. To understand what is, you need a swift mind, a mind not anchored to a belief, to a conclusion, or to a party. And to follow what is, you have to understand the process of authority, why you cling to authority, and not merely discard it. You cannot discard authority without understanding its whole process, because then you will create a new authority to free you from the old one. So, this question has no meaning if you are merely looking at the label, because I am not interested in labels. But if you care to, we can undertake a journey together to find out what is, and in knowing ourselves, we can create a new world, a happy world. July 11, 1948 BANGALORE 3RD PUBLIC TALK 18TH JULY, 1948 As there are only a few of us, instead of my making an introductory speech as I did last time before answering questions, may I suggest that we turn this into a discussion meeting? Perhaps that may be more worthwhile than my making a formal speech, and so on. So, would you mind coming in a little closer? What subject shall we discuss which will be worthwhile and profitable? What would you suggest, Sirs, as a subject to be discussed? Audience: Why are you touring around? Krishnamurti: Do you really want to discuss why I am touring around? Comment from the Audience: May we discuss the purpose of life? Krishnamurti: Does that interest everybody, to discuss what is the purpose of life, reincarnation and karma? Audience: Yes. Krishnamurti: Then let us discuss what is the purpose of life, and perhaps later we shall introduce other subjects. First of all, in discussing any subject of this kind, we must obviously be earnest and not academic, scholarly or superficial, because that will not lead us anywhere. So, we have to be very serious, and that means we cannot merely accept or reject, but must investigate to find out the truth of any subject. One must be attentive and not academic. One must be open to suggestion, and therefore one must have a desire to investigate and not merely accept the authority, either of the platform or of a book, of the dead past or of the present. So, in discussing what is the purpose of life, we have to find out what we mean by "life" and what we mean by "purpose" - not merely the dictionary meaning, but the significance we give to those words. Surely, life implies everyday action, everyday thought, everyday feeling, does it not? It implies the struggles, the pains, the anxieties, the deceptions, the worries, the routine of the office, of business, of bureaucracy, and so on. All that is life, is it not? By life we mean, not just one department or one layer of consciousness, but the total process of existence which is our relationship to things, to people, to ideas. That is what we mean by life - not an abstract thing. So, if that is what we mean by life, then has life a purpose? Or is it because we do not understand the ways of life - the everyday pain, anxiety, fear, ambition, greed - , because we do not understand the daily activities of existence, that we want a purpose, remote or near, far away or close? We want a purpose so that we can guide our everyday life towards an end. That is obviously what we mean by purpose. But if I understand how to live, then the very living is in itself sufficient, is it not? Do we then want a purpose? If I love you, if I love another, is that not sufficient in itself? Do I then want a purpose? Surely, we want a purpose only when we do not understand, or when we want a mode of conduct with an end in view. After all, most of us are seeking a way of life, a way of conduct; and we either look to others, to the past, or we try to find a mode of behaviour through our own experience. When we look to our own experience for a pattern of behaviour, our experience is always conditioned, is it not? However wide the experiences one may have had, unless these experiences dissolve the past conditioning, any new experiences only further strengthen the past conditioning. That is a fact which we can discuss. And if we look to another, to the past, to a guru, to an ideal, to an example, for a pattern of behaviour, we are merely forcing the extraordinary vitality of life into a mould, into a particular shape, and thereby we lose the swiftness, the intensity, the richness of life. So, we must find out very clearly what we mean by purpose, if there is a purpose. You may say there is a purpose: to reach reality, God, or what you will. But to reach that, you must know it, you must be aware of it, you must have the measure, the depth, the significance of it. Do we know reality for ourselves, or do we know it only through the authority of another? So, can you say that the purpose of life is to find reality when you do not know what reality is? Since reality is the unknown, the mind that seeks the unknown must first be free from the known, must it not? If my mind is clouded, burdened with the known, it can only measure according to its own condition, its own limitation, and therefore it can never know the unknown, can it? So, what we are trying to discuss and find out is whether life has a purpose, and whether that purpose can be measured. It can only be measured in terms of the known, in terms of the past; and when I measure the purpose of life in terms of the known, I will measure it according to my likes and dislikes. Therefore, the purpose will be conditioned by my desires, and therefore it ceases to be the purpose. Surely, that is clear, is it not? I can understand what is the purpose of life only through the screen of my own prejudices, wants and desires - otherwise I cannot judge, can I? So, the measure, the tape, the yardstick, is a conditioning of my mind, and according to the dictates of my conditioning I will decide what the purpose is. But is that the purpose of life? It is created by my want, and therefore it is surely not the purpose of life. To find out the purpose of life, the mind must be free of measurement; then only can it find out - otherwise you are merely projecting your own want. This is not mere intellection, and if you go into it deeply you will see its significance. After all, it is according to my prejudice, to my want, to my desire, to my predilection, that I decide what the purpose of life is to be. So, my desire creates the purpose. Surely, that is not the purpose of life. Which is more important, to find out the purpose of life, or to free the mind itself from its own conditioning, and the mind is free from its own conditioning, that very freedom itself is the purpose. Because, after all, it is only in freedom that one can discover any truth. So, the first requisite is freedom, and not seeking the purpose of life. Without freedom, obviously, one cannot find it; without being liberated from our own petty little wants, pursuits, ambitions, envies and ill will, without freedom from these things, how can one possibly enquire or discover what is the purpose of life? So, is it not important, for one who is enquiring about the purpose of life, to find out first if the instrument of enquiry is capable of penetrating into the processes of life, into the psychological complexities of one's own being? Because, that is all we have, is it not? - a psychological instrument that is shaped to suit our own needs. And as the instrument is fashioned out of our own petty desires, as it is the outcome of our own experiences, worries, anxieties and ill will, how can such an instrument find reality? Therefore, is it not important, if you are to enquire into the purpose of life, to find out first if the enquirer is capable of understanding or discovering what that purpose is? I am not turning the tables on you, but that is what is implied when we enquire about the purpose of life. When we ask that question, we have first to find out whether the questioner, the enquirer, is capable of understanding. Now, when we discuss the purpose of life, we see that we mean by life the extraordinarily complex state of interrelationship without which there would be no life. And if we do not understand the full significance of that life, its varieties, impressions, and so on, what is the good of enquiring about the purpose of life? If I do not understand my relationship with you, my relationship with property and ideas, how can I go further? After all, Sir, to find truth, or God, or what you will, I must first understand my existence, I must understand,the life around me and in me, otherwise the search for reality becomes merely a escape from everyday action; and a most of us do not understand every day action, as for most of us life is drudgery, pain, suffering, anxiety, we say, "For God's sake, tell us how to escape from it." That is what most of us want - a drug to put us to sleep so that we don't feel the aches and pains of life. Have I answered your question about the purpose of life? Audience: May one say that the purpose of life is to live rightly? Krishnamurti: It is suggested that the purpose of life is to live rightly. Sirs, I do not want to quibble, but what do we mean by a "right life"? We have the idea that to live according to a pattern laid down by Shankaracharya, Buddha, X, Y or Z, is to live rightly. Is that living rightly? Surely, that is only a conformity which the mind seeks in order to be secure, in order not to be disturbed. Audience: There is a Chinese saying that the purpose of life is the pleasure of it, the joy of it. It is not an abstract joy, but it is the joy of living, the pleasures of sleeping, drinking, the joy of meeting people and talking to them, of coming, of going, of working. The joy of living, of everyday happenings, is the purpose of life. Krishnamurti: Surely, Sirs, there is a joy. There is real happiness in understanding something, is there not? If I understand my relationship with my neighbour, my wife, with the property over which we fight, wrangle and destroy each other - if I understand these things, surely out of that understanding there comes a joy; then life itself is a joy, a richness, and with that richness one can go further, deeper. But without that foundation, you cannot build a great structure, can you? After all, happiness comes naturally, easily, only when there is no friction either in us or about us; and friction ceases only when there is an understanding of things in their right proportion, in their right values. To find out what is right, one must first know the process, the working of one's own mind. Otherwise, if you do not know your own mind, how can you discover the right value of anything? So, we are confused; our relationships, our ideas, our governments, are really confused. It is only a foolish man who does not see the confusion. The world is in an awful mess, and the world is the projection of ourselves. What we are, the world is. We are confused, fearfully entangled in ideas, and we do not know what is true and what is false; and being confused, we say, "Please, what is the purpose of life, what is the need of all this mess, this misery?" Now, some will naturally give you a verbal explanation of what the purpose of life is; and if you like it, you accept it and mould your life accordingly. But that does not solve the problem of confusion, does it? You have only postponed it, you have not understood what is. Surely, the understanding of what is - the confusion within me and therefore about me - is more important than to inquire how to behave rightly. If I understand what has caused this confusion, and therefore how to put an end to it,I understand these things, there comes naturally a true, affectionate behaviour. So, being confused, my problem is, not to find out what is the end or purpose of life, nor how to get out of confusion, but rather how to understand the confusion; because, if I understand it, then I can dissolve it. To put an end to confusion requires the understanding of what is at any given moment, and that demands enormous attention, interest to find out what is, and not merely the dissipation of our energies in the pursuit of our life, of our own methods, of our actions according to a particular pattern - all of which is so much easier, because it is not tackling our problems but rather escaping from them. So, as you are confused, every man who becomes a leader, political or religious, is merely the expression of our own confusion; and because you follow the leader, he becomes the voice of confusion. He may lead you away from a particular confusion, but he will not help you to resolve the cause of confusion, and therefore you will still be confused; because, you create the confusion, and confession is where you are. So, the question is. not how to get out of confusion, but how to understand it; and in understanding it, perhaps you will find the meaning of all these struggles, these pains, these anxieties, this constant battle within and without. So, is it not important to find out why we are confused? Can anybody, except a very few, say that they are not confused, politically, religiously, economically? Sirs, you have only to look around you. Every newspaper is shouting in confusion, reflecting the uncertainties, the pains, the anxieties, the impending wars; and the sane, thoughtful person, the earnest person who is trying to find a way out of this confusion, surely has first to tackle himself. So then, our question is this: What causes confusion? Why are we confused? One of the obvious factors is that we have lost confidence in ourselves, and that is why we have so many leaders, so many gurus, so many holy books telling us what to do and what not to do. We have lost self-confidence. Now, what do you mean by self-confidence? Obviously, there are people, the technicians, who are full of confidence because they have achieved results. For example, give a first class mechanic any machine and he will understand it. The more technique we have, the more capable we are of dealing with technical things; but surely; that is not self-confidence. We are not using the word "confidence" as it applies to technical matters. A professor, when he deals with his subject, is full of confidence - at least, when other professors are not listening; or a bureaucrat, a high official, feels confident because he has reached the top of the. ladder in the technique of bureaucracy, and he can always exert his authority. Though he may be wrong, he is full of confidence - like a mechanic when you give him a motor he knows all about. But surely, we do not mean that kind of confidence, do we? , because we are not technical machines. We are not mere machines ticking according to a certain rhythm, revolving at a certain speed, a certain number of revolutions per minute. We are life, not machines. We would like to make ourselves into machines, because then we could deal with ourselves mechanically, repetitiously and automatically - and that is what most of us want. Therefore, we build walls of resistance, disciplines, controls, tracks along which we run. But even having so conditioned, so placed ourselves, having become so automatic and mechanical, there is still a vitality that pursues different things and creates contradictions. Sirs, our difficulty is that we are pliable, that we are alive, not dead; and because life is so swift, so subtle, so uncertain, we do not know how to understand it, and therefore we have lost confidence. Most of us are trained technically because we have to earn our livelihood, and modern civilization demands higher and higher technique. But with that technical mind, that technical capacity, you cannot follow yourself, because you are much too swift, you are more pliable, more complicated than the machine; so you are learning to have more and more confidence in the machine, and are losing confidence in yourself, and are therefore multiplying leaders. So, as I said, one of the causes of confusion is this lack of confidence in ourselves. The more imitative we are, the less confidence we have, and we have made life into a copy book. From early childhood up, we are told what to do; we must do this, we must not do that. So what do you expect? And must you not have confidence in order to find out? Must you not have that extraordinary inward certainty to know what truth is when you meet it? So, having made life into a technical process, conforming to a particular pattern of action, which is merely technique, naturally we have lost confidence in ourselves, and therefore we are increasing our inward struggle, our inward pain and confusion. Confusion can be dissolved only through self-confidence, and this confidence cannot be gained through another. You have to undertake, for yourself and by yourself, the journey of discovery into the process of yourself, in order to understand it. This does not mean you are withdrawn, aloof. On the contrary, Sirs, confidence comes the moment you understand, not what others say, but your own thoughts and feelings, what is happening in yourself and around you. Without that confidence which comes from knowing your own thoughts, feelings and experiences - their truth, their falseness, their significance, their absurdity - , without knowing that, how can you clear up the whole field of confusion which is yourself? Audience: Confusion can be dispelled by being aware. Krishnamurti: You are saying, Sir, that by being aware, by being conscious of the confusion, that confusion can be dissipated. Is that it? Audience: Yes, Sir. Krishnamurti: For the moment, we are not discussing how to dissipate confusion. Having lost self confidence, our problem is how to get it back - if we ever had it at all. Because, obviously, without that element of confidence we shall be led astray by every person we come across - and that is exactly what is happening. What is right purpose politically, and how are you to know it? Should you not know it? Should you not know what is true in it? Similarly, must you not know what is true in the babble of tongues of religion? And how are you going to find out what is true among all the innumerable sayings, Christian, Hindu, Mussulman, and so on? In this frightful confusion, how are you going to find out? To find out, you must obviously be in a great strait, you must be burning to know what you are in yourself. Are you in such a position? Are you burning to find out the truth of anything, whether of communism, fascism, or capitalism? To find out what is true in the various political actions, in the religious assertions and experiences which you so easily accept - to find out the truth of all these things, must you not be burning with the desire to know the truth? Therefore, never accept any authority. Sir, after all, acceptance of authority indicates that the mind wants comfort, security. A mind that seeks security. either with a guru or in a party, political or any other, a mind that is seeking safety, comfort, can never find truth, even in the smallest things of our existence. So, a man who wants this creative self-confidence must obviously be burning with the desire to know the truth of everything, not about empires or the atomic bomb, which is merely a technical matter, but in our human relationships, our relationship with others, and our relationship to property and to ideas. If I want to know the truth, I begin to enquire; and before I can know the truth of anything, I must have confidence. To have confidence, I must enquire into myself and remove those causes that prevent each experience from giving its full significance. Audience: Our minds are limited. What is the way out of this impasse? Krishnamurti: Now wait a minute. Before we enquire how to free the mind from its own conditioning, which creates confusion, let us try to find out how to discover the truth of anything - not of technical things, but the truth of ourselves in relation to something, even in relation to the atomic bomb. You understand the problem, Sir? We are not self-confident, there is no confidence in us, that creative thing which gives sustenance, life, vitality, understanding. We have lost it, or we have never had it; and, because we do not know how to judge anything, we have been led here and pushed there, beaten up, driven, politically, religiously and socially. We don't know - but it is difficult to say we don't know. Most of us think we do, but actually we know very little except in technical matters - how to run a government, a machine, or how to kick the servant or wife or children, or whatever it is. But we do not know ourselves, we have lost that capacity. I am using the word "lost", but that is probably the wrong word, because we have never had it. Since we do not know ourselves and yet we want to find out what truth is, how are we going to find it? Do you understand the quest; on, Sir? I am afraid not. Someone wanted to discuss reincarnation. Now, I want to know the truth of reincarnation, not what the Bhagavad Gita, Christ, or my pet guru has said. I want to know the truth of that matter. Therefore, what am I to do to know the truth of it? What is the first requirement it, must I? I must not be persuaded by the clever arguments or by the personality of another, which means I am not easily satisfied by the reassuring comfort which reincarnation gives. Must I not be in that position? That is, I am not seeking comfort, I am trying to find out what is true. Are you in that position? Surely, when you are seeking comfort, you can be persuaded by anyone, and therefore you lose self-confidence; but when you do not seek comfort but want to know the truth, when you are completely free from the desire to take refuge, then you will experience truth, and that experience will give you confidence. So, that is the first requirement, is it not? To know the truth of anything psychologically, you cannot seek comfort; because, the moment you want comfort, security, a haven in which you are protected, you will have what you want, but what you have will not be the truth. Therefore, you will be persuaded by another who offers a greater comfort, a greater security, a better refuge; and so you are driven from port to port, and that is why you have lost confidence. You have no confidence because you have been driven from one refuge to another by your own desire to be comfortable, to be secure. So, a man who would seek the truth in relationship must be free of the destructive and limiting desire to be comfortable, to be secure. This fear of losing oneself psychologically must go. Only then can you find the truth of reincarnation or of anything else, because you are seeking truth and not security. Then truth will reveal to you what is right, and therefore you will have confidence. Sir, is it not more important to find out the truth than to believe that there is or is not continuity? That is the question, is it not? If I want to know the truth, I am in a position not to be easily persuaded. Audience: When we asked the question about reincarnation, we wanted to be reassured that there is reincarnation, we did not want to know about truth and all that. Krishnamurti: Of course you want to know if there is reincarnation, if reincarnation is a fact, but you don't want to know the truth of it; and I want to know the truth of reincarnation, not the fact. It may or may not be a fact. I do not know if the distinction is clear. Audience: It is not clear. Krishnamurti: Alright, Sir, let us discuss it. Audience: When we ask the question about reincarnation, it is in order to be assured that there is reincarnation. In other words, we put the question in a state of anxiety that there should be reincarnation, and being anxious, we listen with a biased mind. We do not want to find out the real truth of it; we only want to be assured that there is such a thing as reincarnation. Audience: Do you want to know whether there is such a thing as reincarnation, or do you want to know the truth? Are you anxious that there should be reincarnation, or are you seeking to find out the truth, whatever it is? Audience: Both. Audience: You cannot do both. Either you want to know the truth about reincarnation, or you want to be assured that there is reincarnation. Which is the case? Krishnamurti: Let us be very clear on this point. If I am anxious to know whether there is reincarnation or not, what is the motive behind that question? Audience: The motive is quite clear, I think. Krishnamurti: What is it, Sir? Audience: The motive is that life begins at a certain stage and ends at a certain stage. Krishnamurti: Which means what? Audience: It means that the purpose is understood and the goal is reached or not reached. Audience: When you say that life is limited, are you anxious? Audience: I did not say that life is limited. Audience: You said it begins at a certain point and ends at a certain point. Audience: I mean by that, birth and death. Audience: Life is spanned by birth and death. It is limited. Audience: Yes. Audience: When you ask whether there is reincarnation, are you in a state of mind which desires it? Audience: I am in a state of enquiry. Audience: Are you a believer? Audience: An enquirer, a seeker. Krishnamurti: If I seek, what is the state of my mind? What is making me seek? Audience: I do not understand, Sir. Krishnamurti: What is making me seek? Audience: We desire to know the truth. Krishnamurti: Therefore, you are not anxious. Audience: There is no motive, only anxiety. Krishnamurti: So you are saying you are anxious? Audience: Everybody is. Krishnamurti: Therefore you are not seeking truth. You are not passive. Audience: I seek out of anxiety to know the truth. Krishnamurti: Yes, Sir? Audience: What are you anxious about? Audience: I am not anxious about anything. I am viewing it merely from an academic point of view. Krishnamurti: Either we are discussing merely academically, superficially, or we are discussing very seriously. Audience: Certainly. Krishnamurti: I am not saying you are superficial; but surely, we must know if we are merely discussing out of curiosity. If we are, it will lead us in one direction, and if we are discussing to find out the truth, then it will lead us in another direction. Which is it: As I said right from the beginning this evening, if we are merely discussing as a club for intellectual amusement, then I am afraid I shall not partake in it, because that is not my intention; but if we are seeking to find out the truth of anything, that is, the truth of our relationship, then let us discuss. Now, if I ask about reincarnation because I am anxious, surely that anxiety comes into being because I am afraid of death, of coming to an end, of not fulfilling myself, of not seeing my friends, of not finishing my book, and all the rest of it. That is, my enquiry is based on fear; therefore fear will dictate the answer, fear will determine what truth shall be. But if I am not afraid and am seeking the truth of what is, then reincarnation has a different meaning. So, inwardly, psychologically, we must be very clear what it is that we are seeking. Are we seeking the truth about reincarnation, or are we seeking reincarnation out of anxiety? Audience: I do not think there is much difference between the two. I am seeking. Audience: I think he used the word "anxiety" to mean "earnestness". Audience: It is obvious that if you are seeking out of anxiety, you are prejudice in favour of a certain answer which will relieve you of that anxiety, and therefore you cannot find the truth. Audience: I can honestly tell you that I am neither in favour of this nor of that. I want to know the truth. The question arose in me when we were discussing the subject. Audience: Why did it arise? Audience: I cannot explain. That is for you to explain. Audience: People usually ask questions about reincarnation in order to be assured that there is such a thing as reincarnation. Audience: Not all. Audience: It is very rare that somebody asks about reincarnation just to know the truth. Audience: You can naturally understand that I am very much interested in the subject. Krishnamurti: Alright. I am not answering your question for the moment. We are discussing it generally. Does our approach lie through anxiety, through fear; or, without being afraid, do we want to know? Because, the results of our enquiry will be different in each case. As has been pointed out by one of you, either I am anxious to know, and therefore my anxiety is going to colour what is, or, I want to know about continuity, independent of my likes and dislikes, fears and anxieties. I want to know what is. Now, most of us are a mixture of both, are we not? When my son dies, I am anxious, I am burning with pain, with loneliness, and I want to know. Then my enquiries are based on anxiety. But sitting and discussing in this hall and casually saying, "Well, I would like to know" when there is no crisis - can such a mind know? Surely, you can find truth only in a crisis and not away from the crisis. It is then that you will have to enquire, not when you casually say, "Let us discuss whether there is truth or not". Is that not so? When my son dies, I want to know, not whether he lives, but the truth about continuity, which means that I am willing to understand the subject. Does it not imply that? I have lost my son, and I want to know what makes me suffer, and if there is an end to suffering. So, it is in that moment of crisis alone, when there is pressure, that I will find the truth, if I want to know the truth. But in the moment of crisis, in the moment of pressure, we want comfort, we want alleviation, we want to put our head on somebody's lap; in moments of anxiety we want to be lulled to sleep. And I say, on the contrary, the moment of anxiety is the right moment to enquire and to find the truth. When I want comfort in the moment of crisis, I am not enquiring. Therefore, I must know the state of my own being, of my psychological or spiritual being. I must know the state I am in before I can enquire and find out what truth is. Sir, most of us are in a crisis - about the war, about a job, about our wives running away with somebody. We have crises about us and in us all the time, whether we admit it or not; and is that not the moment to enquire, rather than to wait till the ultimate moment when the bomb is thrown? Because, though we may deny it, we are in a crisis from moment to moment, politically psychologically, economically. There is intense pressure all the time; and is this not the moment to find out? Are we not in this moment? If you say, "I have no crisis, I am only sitting back and looking at life", that is merely avoiding the issue isn't it? Is any one of us in that position? Surely, that is not true of any person. We have crises one after another, but we have become dull, secure, indifferent; and our difficult is, is it not? , that we do not know how to meet crises? Are we to meet them with anxiety, or to enquire and so find the truth of the matter? Most of us meet a crisis with anxiety; growing weary, we say, "Will you please solve this problem?" When we talk, we are looking for an answer and not for the understanding of the problem. Similarly, in discussing the question of reincarnation, the problem of whether there is or is not continuity, what we mean by continuity, what we mean by death: to understand such a problem, the problem of continuity or no continuity, we must not seek an answer away from the problem. We must understand the problem itself - which we will discuss at another meeting, because our time is nearly up. My point is that there must be self-confidence - and I have sufficiently explained what I mean by self confidence. It is not the confidence that you have through technical capacity, technical knowledge, technical training. The confidence that comes with self-knowledge is entirely different from the confidence of aggressiveness and of technical skill; and that confidence born of self knowledge is essential to clear up the confusion in which we live. Obviously, you cannot have this self knowledge given to you by another, because what is given to you by another is mere technique. That is the joy of discovering, the bliss of understanding, can come only when I understand myself, the whole total process of myself; and to understand oneself is not such a very complex business, one can begin at any level of consciousness. But, as I said last Sunday, to have that confidence there must be the intention to know oneself. Then I am not easily persuaded: I want to know everything about myself and so I am open to all the intimations concerning me, whether they come from another or from within myself. I am open to the conscious and the unconscious within me, open to every thought and feeling that is constantly moving, urging, arising and fading away in myself. Surely, that is the way to have this confidence: to know oneself completely, whatever one is, and not pursue an ideal of what one should be, or assume that one is this or that, which is really absurd. It is absurd because then you are merely accepting a preconceived idea, whether your own or another's, of what you are or would like to be. But to understand yourself as you are, you must be voluntarily open, spontaneously vulnerable to all the intimations of yourself; and as you begin to understand the flow, the movement, the swiftness of your own mind, you will see that confidence comes from that understanding. It is not the aggressive, brutal, assertive confidence, but the confidence of knowing what is taking place in oneself. Surely, without that confidence, you cannot dispel confusion; and without dispelling the confusion within you and about you. how can you possibly find the truth of any relationship? So, to find out what is true, or what is the purpose of life, or to discover the truth of reincarnation or of any human problem, the enquirer who is demanding truth, who wants to know truth, must be very clear as regards his intentions, If his intentions are to seek security, comfort, then obviously he does not want truth; because, truth may be one of the most devastating, discomforting things. The man who is seeking comfort does not want truth: he only wants security, safety, a refuge in which he will not be disturbed. But a man who is seeking truth must invite disturbances, tribulations; because, it is only in moments of crisis that there is alertness, watchfulness, action. Then only that which is is discovered and understood. July 18, 1948 BANGALORE 4TH PUBLIC TALK 25TH JULY, 1948 As I was saying the last time we met, the problems of the world are so colossal, so very complex, that to understand and so to resolve them, one must approach them in a very simple and direct manner; and simplicity, directness, do not depend on outward circumstances nor on our particular prejudices and moods. As I was pointing out, the solution is not to be found through conferences, blue prints, or through the substitution of new leaders for old, and so on. The solution obviously lies in the creator of the problem, in the creator of the mischief, of the hate and of the enormous misunderstanding that exists between human beings. The creator of this mischief, the creator of these problems, is the individual, you and I, not the world as we think of it. The world is your relationship with another. The world is not something separate from you and me; the world, society, is the relationship that we establish or seek to establish between each other. So, you and I are the problem, and not the world; because, the world is the projection of ourselves, and to understand the world, we must understand ourselves. The world is not separate from us; we are the world, and our problems are the world's problems. This cannot be repeated too often, because we are so sluggish in our mentality that we think the world's problems are not our business, that they have to be resolved by the United Nations, or by substituting new leaders for the old. It is a very dull mentality that thinks that way; because, we are responsible for this frightful misery and confusion in the world, this impending war. To transform the world, we must begin with ourselves; and, as I said, what is important in beginning with ourselves is the intention. The intention must be to understand ourselves, and not to leave it to others to transform themselves or to bring about a modified change through revolution, either of the left or of the right. So, it is important to understand that this is our responsibility, your's and mine; because, however small may be the world we live in, if we can transform ourselves, bring about a radically different point of view in our daily existence, then perhaps we shall affect the world at large, the extended relationship with others. So, as I said, we are going to discuss and find out the process of understanding ourselves, which is not an isolating process. It is not withdrawal from the world, because you cannot live in isolation. To be is to be related, and there is no such thing as living in isolation. It is the lack of right relationship that brings about conflicts, misery and strife; and however small our world may be, if we can transform our relationship in that narrow world, it will be like a wave extending outward all the time. I think it is important to see that point, that the world is our relationship, however narrow; and if we can bring a transformation there, not a superficial but a radical transformation, then we shall begin actively to transform the world. Real revolution is not according to any particular pattern, either of the left or of the right, but it is a revolution of values, a revolution from sensate values to the values that are not sensate or created by environmental influences. To find these true values which will bring about a radical revolution, a transformation or a regeneration, it is essential to understand oneself. Self-knowledge is the beginning of wisdom, and therefore the beginning of transformation or regeneration. To understand oneself, there must be the intention to understand - and that is where our difficulty comes in. Because, although most of us are discontented, we desire to bring about a sudden change, our discontent is canalized merely to achieve a certain result; being discontented, we either seek a different job, or merely succumb to environment. So, discontent, instead of setting us aflame, causing us to question life, the whole process of existence is canalized, and thereby we become mediocre, losing that drive, that intensity to find out the whole significance of existence. Therefore, it is important to discover these things for ourselves, because self knowledge cannot be given to us by another, it is not to be found through any book. We must discover, and to discover there must be the intention, the search, the enquiry. As long as that intention to find out, to enquire deeply, is weak or does not exist, mere assertion, or a casual wish to find out about oneself, is of very little significance. So, the transformation of the world is brought about by the transformation of oneself; because the self is the product and a part of the total process of human existence. To transform oneself, self-knowledge is essential; because, without knowing what you are, there is no basis for right thought, and without knowing yourself there cannot be transformation. One must know oneself as one is, not as one wishes to be, which is merely an ideal and therefore fictitious, unreal; and it is only that which is that can be transformed, not that which you wish to be. So, to know oneself as one is, requires an extraordinary alertness of mind; because, what is is constantly undergoing transformation, change, and to follow it swiftly, the mind must not be tethered to any particular dogma or belief, to any particular pattern of action. If you would follow anything, it is no good being tethered. So, to know yourself, there must be the awareness, the alertness of mind in which there is freedom from all beliefs, from all idealization; because, beliefs and ideals only give you a colour, perverting true perception. If you want to know what you are, you cannot imagine or have belief in something which you are not. If I am greedy, envious, violent, merely having an ideal of non-violence, of non-greed, is of little value. But to know that one is greedy or violent, to know and understand it, requires an extraordinary perception, does it not? It demands honesty, clarity of thought. Whereas, to pursue an ideal away from what is, is an escape; it prevents you from discovering and acting directly upon what you are. So, the understanding of what you are, whatever it be - ugly or beautiful, wicked or mischievous - , the understanding of what you are without distortion, is the beginning of virtue. Virtue is essential, for it gives freedom. It is only in virtue that you can discover, that you can live - not in the cultivation of a virtue, which merely brings about respectability, and not understanding and freedom. There is a difference between being virtuous and becoming virtuous. Being virtuous comes through the understanding of what is, whereas becoming virtuous is postponement, the covering up of what is with what you would like to be. Therefore, in becoming virtuous you are avoiding action directly upon what is. This process of avoiding what is through the cultivation of the ideal is considered virtuous; but if you look at it closely and directly, you will see that it is nothing of the kind. It is merely a postponement of coming face to face with what is. Virtue is not the becoming of what is not; virtue is the understanding of what is and therefore the freedom from what is. And virtue is essential in a society that is rapidly disintegrating. In order to create a new world, a new structure away from the old, there must be freedom to discover; and to be free, there must be virtue, for without virtue there is no freedom. Can the immoral man who is striving to become virtuous, ever know virtue? The man who is not moral can never be free, and therefore he can never find out what reality is. Reality can be found only in understanding what is; and to understand what is, there must be freedom, freedom from the fear of what is. Is virtue, then, a matter of time? The understanding of what is, which is virtue, for it gives freedom, immediate release - is this a matter of time? Are you kind, generous, affectionate, through the process of time? That is, will you be kind day after tomorrow? Can kindness be thought of in terms of time? After all, affection, mercy, generosity are necessities of life, they are the only solvent for all our problems. Goodwill is essential, and we have not got it, have we? Neither the politicians, nor the leaders, nor the followers have real goodwill, which is not an ideal; and without goodwill, without that extraordinary mellowness of being which gives affection, our problems cannot be solved by mere conferences. So, you, like the politicians and the vast majority of human beings the world over, are not kind, you have not got that goodwill which is the only solution; and since you have not got it, is it a mere question of time? Will you have goodwill tomorrow or ten years hence? Is it not fallacious reasoning to think in the future? If you are not kind now, you will never be kind. You may think that by slow practice, discipline, and all the rest of it, you will be kind tomorrow or ten years later; but in the meantime, you are being unkind. And kindness, goodwill, affection, is the only solvent for the immediate problems of existence; it is the only remedy that will destroy the poison of nationalism, of communalism, the only cement that can bring us together. Now, if kindness, mercy, is not a matter of time, then why is it that you and I are not kind immediately, directly? Why is it that we are not kind now? If we can understand why we are not kind, understanding being immediate, we shall be kind immediately; then we shall forget what our caste is, we shall forget our communal, religious and nationalistic differences and be immediately generous, kind. Therefore, we must understand why we are not kind, and not patiently practise goodness or meditate on generosity - which is all absurd. But if I know why I am unkind and I want to be kind, then, because my intention is to be kind, I will be. So again, the intention matters enormously; but the intention is futile if I do not know the cause of unkindness. Therefore, I must know the whole process of my thinking, the whole process of my attitude towards life. So, the study of oneself becomes tremendously important; but self-knowledge is not an end. One must study oneself more and more, but not with an object in view, to achieve a result; because, if we seek an object, a result, we put an end to enquiry, to discovery, to freedom. Self-knowledge is the understanding of the process of oneself, the process of the mind, it is to be aware of all the intricacies of the passions and their pursuits; and as one knows oneself more and more deeply and widely, extensively ind profoundly, there comes a freedom, a liberation from the entanglements of fear, the fear which brings about beliefs, dogmas, nationalism, caste and all the hideous inventions of the mind to keep itself isolated in fear And when there is freedom, there is the discovery of that which is eternal. Without that freedom, merely asking what is the eternal, or reading books about the eternal, has no value at all. It is like children playing with toys. Eternity, reality, God, or what you will, can be discovered only by you. It comes into being only when the mind is free, untrammelled by beliefs, untrammelled by prejudice, not caught in the net of passion, ill will and worldliness. But a mind that is entangled in nationalism, or in beliefs and rituals, is caught in its own desires, ambitions and pursuits, and obviously such a mind cannot possibly understand. It is not prepared to receive. Only the discovery of truth will bring happiness, and to discover, there must be the understanding of oneself. To understand oneself, there must be the intention to understand and with the intention, comes an enquiring mind, a mind that is alertly aware without condemnation, without identification or justification; and such awareness brings an immediate release from the problem. Therefore, our whole search is not for the answer to a problem, but for the understanding of the problem itself. And the problem is not outside you: it is you, the problem is you. To understand the problem, to understand the creator of the problem, which is yourself, you have to discover yourself spontaneously from day to day as you are: because, it is only at the moment when your responses arise that you can understand them. But if you discipline your responses to a particular pattern, either of the left or of the right, or if you follow a particular rule of conduct, then you cannot discover your own responses. Experiment with it and you will find being aware of each response as it arises, seeing it without condemnation or justification and pursuing the whole implication of that response. Freedom is in release from the response, not in disciplining that response. So, our whole enquiry into the purpose of existence, our question as to whether there is reality or not, has very little meaning if there is no understanding of the mind, which is yourself. The problem, which is so vast, so complex, so immediate, lies in you, and no one can solve it except yourself; no guru can solve it, no teacher, no saviour, no organized compulsion. The outward organization can always be overthrown, because the inner is much stronger than the outward structure of man's existence. Without understanding the inner, merely to change the pattern of the outer has very little meaning. To bring about a lasting reorganization in outer things, each one of us must begin with himself; and when there is that inner transformation, the outer can then be transformed with intelligence, with compassion and with care. There are several questions, and I will try to answer as many of them as possible this afternoon. Question: Do you have a special message for youth? Krishnamurti: Sirs, is there a very great difference between the young and the old? Youth, the young people, if they are at all alive, are full of revolutionary ideas, full of discontent, are they not? They must be: otherwise they are already old. Please, this is very serious, so don't agree or disagree. We are discussing life - I am not making a speech from the platform to please you or to please myself. As I was saying if the young have not that revolutionary discontent, they are already old; and the old are those who were once discontented, but have settled back. They want security, they want permanency, either in their jobs or in their souls. They want certainty in ideas, in relationship, or in property. If in you, who are young, there is a spirit of enquiry which makes you want the truth of anything, of any political action whether of the left or of the right, and if you are not bound by tradition, then you will be the regenerators of the world, the creators of a new civilization, a new culture. But, like the rest of us, like the past generation, young people also want security, certainty. They want jobs, they want food, clothing and shelter, they don't want to disagree with their parents because it means going against society. Therefore, they fall in line, they accept the authority of older people. So,what happens? The discontent which is the very flame of enquiry, of search, of understanding - that discontent is made mediocre, it becomes merely a desire for a better job, or a rich marriage, or a degree. So, their discontent is destroyed, it merely becomes the desire for more security. Surely, what is essential for the old and for the young is to live fully, completely. But you see, there are very few people in the world who want to live completely. To live fully and completely, there must be freedom, not an acceptance of authority; and there can be freedom only when there is virtue. Virtue is not imitation; virtue is creative living. That is, creativeness comes through the freedom which virtue brings; and virtue is not to be cultivated, it does not come through practice or at the end of your life. Either you are virtuous and free now, or you are not. And to find out why you are not free, you must have discontent, you must have the intention, the drive, the energy to enquire; but you dissipate that energy sexually, or through shouting political slogans, waving flags, or merely imitating, passing examinations for a better job. So, the world is in such misery because there is not that creativeness. To live creatively, there cannot be mere imitation, following either Marx, the Bible. or the Bhagavad Gita. Creativeness comes through freedom, and there can be freedom only when there is virtue, and virtue is not the result of the process of time. Virtue comes when you begin to understand what is in your everyday existence. Therefore, to me the division between the old and the young is rather absurd. Sirs, maturity is not a matter of age. Although must of us are older, we are infantile, we are afraid of what society thinks, afraid of the past. Those who are old seek permanency, comforting assurances, and the young also want security. So, there is no essential difference between the old and the young. As I said, maturity does not lie in age. Maturity comes with understanding, and there is no understanding as long as we escape from conflict, from suffering; and we escape from suffering when we seek comfort, when we seek an ideal. But it is when we are young that we can really, ardently, purposefully enquire. As we grow older, life is too much for us, and we become more and more dull. We waste our energies so uselessly. To conserve that energy for purposes of enquiry, to discover reality, requires a great deal of education - not mere conformity to a pattern, which is not education. Merely passing examinations is not education. A fool can pass examinations, it only requires a certain type of mind. But to enquire deeply and find out what life is, to understand the whole basis of existence, requires a very alert and keen mind, a mind that is pliable. But the mind is made unplayable when it is forced to conform, and the whole structure of our society is based on compulsion. However subtle com- pulsion may be, through compulsion there cannot be understanding. Question: Is your self-confidence born of your own release from fear or does it arise from the conviction that you are solidly backed by great beings like the Buddha and the Christ? Krishnamurti: Sirs, first of all, how does confidence come into being? Confidence is of two types. There is the confidence that comes through the acquisition of technical knowledge. A mechanic, an engineer, a physicist, a man who masters the violin, has confidence, because he has studied or practiced for a number of years and has acquired a technique. That gives one type of confidence - a confidence which is merely superficial, technical. But there is another type of confidence which comes from self -knowledge, from knowing oneself entirely, both the conscious and the unconscious, the hidden mind as well as the open. I say it is possible to know yourself completely, and then there comes a confidence which is not aggressive not self-assertive, not shrewd, not that confidence which comes from achievement; but it is the confidence of seeing things as they are from moment to moment without distortion Such confidence comes into being naturally when thought is not based on personal achievement, personal aggrandisement, or personal salvation, and when each thing reveals its true significance. Then you are backed by wisdom, whether it is of the Buddha or of the Christ. That wisdom, that confidence, that extraordinarily swift pliability of mind, is not for the exclusive few. There is no hierarchy of understanding. When you understand a problem of relationship, whether with physical objects, with ideas, or with your neighbour, that understanding frees you from all sense of time, of position, of authority. Therefore, there is not the Master and the pupil, the guru sitting on a platform and you sitting down below. Sirs, such confidence is love, affection; and when you love somebody, there is no difference, there is neither high nor low. When there is love, this extraordinary flame, then that itself is its own eternity. Question: Can we come to the real through beauty, or is beauty sterile as far as truth is concerned? Krishnamurti: Now, what do we mean by beauty and what do we mean by truth? Surely, beauty is not an ornament; mere decoration of the body is not beauty. We all want to be beautiful, we all want to be presentable - but that is not what we mean by beauty. To be neat, to be tidy, to be clean, courteous, considerate, and so on, is part of beauty, is it not? But these are merely expressions of the inward release from ugliness. Now, what is happening in the world? Every day, more and more, we are decorating the outer. The cinema stars, and you who copy them, are keeping beautiful outwardly; but if you have nothing inside, the outward decoration, the ornamentation, is not beauty. Sirs, don't you know that inward state of being that inward tranquillity, in which there is love, kindliness, generosity, mercy? That state of being, obviously, is the very essence of beauty, and without that, merely to decorate oneself is to emphasize the sensate values, the values of the senses; and to cultivate the values of the senses, as we are doing now, must inevitably lead to conflict, to war, to destruction. The decoration of the outer is the very nature of our present civilization, which is based on industrialization. Not that I am against industrialization - it would be absurd to destroy industries. But merely to cultivate the outer without understanding the inner must inevitably create those values which lead men to destroy each other; and that is exactly what is taking place in the world. Beauty is regarded as an ornament to be bought and sold, to be painted, and so on. Surely, that is not beauty. Beauty is a state of being, and that state of being comes with inward richness - not the inward accumulation of riches which we call virtue, ideals. That is not beauty. Richness, inward beauty with its own imperishable treasures, comes into being when the mind is free; and the mind can be free only when there is no fear. The understanding of fear comes through self-knowledge, not through resistance to fear. If you resist fear, that is, any form of ugliness, you merely build a wall against it. Behind the wall there is no freedom, there is only isolation, and what lives in isolation can never be rich, can never be full. So, beauty has a relationship to reality only when reality manifests itself through those virtues which are essential. Now, what do we mean by truth, or God, or what you will? Obviously, it cannot be formulated; for, that which is formulated is not the real, it is the creation of the mind, the result of a thought process; and thought is the response of memory. Memory is the residue of incomplete experiences; therefore, truth, or God, or what you will, is the unknown and it cannot be formulated. For the unknown to be, the mind itself must cease to be attached to the known, and then there is relationship between beauty and reality, then reality and beauty are not different; then truth is beauty, whether it is in a smile, the flight of a bird, the cry of a baby, or in the anger of your wife or husband. To know the truth of what is, is good; but to know the beauty of that truth, the mind must be capable of understanding, and mind is not capable of understanding when it is tethered, when it is afraid, when it is avoiding something. This avoidance takes the form of outward decoration, ornamentation: being inwardly insufficient, poor, we try to become outwardly beautiful. We build lovely houses, buy a great many jewels, accumulate possessions. All these are indications of inward poverty. Not that we should not have nice dress, good houses; but without inner richness, they have no meaning. Because we are not inwardly rich, we cultivate the outer, and therefore the cultivation of the outer is leading us to destruction. That is, when you cultivate sensate values, expansion is necessary, markets are necessary; you must expand through industry, and the competitive expansion of industry means more and more controls, whether of the left or of the right, inevitably leading to war; and we try to solve the problems of war on the basis of sensate values. The seeker after truth is the seeker after beauty - they are not distinct. Beauty is not merely outward ornamentation but that richness that comes through the freedom of inward understanding, the realization of what is. Question: Why do you decry religion, which obviously contains grains of truth? Why throw out the baby with the bath water? Need not truth be recognized wherever it is found? Krishnamurti: Sirs, what do you mean by religion? Organized dogma, belief, rituals, worshipping any person however great, reciting prayers, repeating Shastras, quoting the Bible - is that religion? Or is religion the search for truth or God? Can you find God through organized belief? By your calling yourself a Hindu and following all the rituals of Hinduism or of any other "ism", will you find God or truth? Sure- ly, what I decry is not religion, not the search for reality, but organized belief with its dogmas and separative forces and influences. We are not seeking reality, but are caught in the net of organized beliefs, repetitive rituals - you know the whole business of it - which I call nonsense, because they are drugs that distract the mind from seeking; they offer escapes, and thereby make the mind dull, ineffective. So, as our minds are caught in the net of organized beliefs with their whole system of authorities, priests and gurus, all of which are engendered through fear and the desire for certainty - as we are caught in that net, obviously, we cannot merely accept, we must enquire, we must look directly, experience directly, and see what it is we are caught in and why we are caught. Because my great grandfather did some ritual, or my mother is going to cry if I do not do it, therefore I must do it. Surely, such a man, who is psychologically dependent on others and hence fearful, is incapable of finding out what truth is. He may talk about it, he may repeat the name of God umpteen times, but he is nowhere, he has no reality. Reality will shun him, because he is encased in his own prejudices and fears. And you are responsible for this organized religion, whether of the East or of the West, whether of the left or of the right, which, being based on authority, has separated man from man. Why do you want authority, either of the past or of the present? You want authority because you are confused, you are in pain, in anxiety, there is loneliness and you are suffering. Therefore, you want help from outside; so you create authority, whether political or religious, and having created that authority, you follow its directions, hoping that the confusion, the anxiety, the pain in your heart, will be removed. Can another remove your pains, your sorrows? Others may help you to escape from sorrow, but it is always there. So, it is you who create authority; and having created the authority, you become its slaves. Belief is a product of authority; and because you want to escape from confusion, you are caught in belief and therefore continue in confusion. Your leaders are the outcome of your confusion, therefore they must be confused. You would never follow anyone if you were clear, unconfused and directly experiencing. It is because you are confused that there is no direct experience. Out of your confusion you create the leader, organized religion, separative worship, which brings about the strife that is going on in the world at the present time. In India it is taking the form of communal conflicts between the Mussalmans and the Hindus, in Europe it is the communists against the rightists, and so on and on. If you look into it carefully, analyze it, you will see that it is all based on authority, one person says this and another person says that; and authority is created by you and me, because we are confused. This may sound oversimplified verbally, but if you go into it, it is not simple, it is extremely complex. Being confused, you want to be led out - which means you are not understanding the problem of confusion, you are only seeking an escape. To understand confusion, you must understand the person who is making the confusion, which is yourself; and without understanding yourself what is the good of following somebody? Being confused, do you think you will find truth in any practice or organized religion? Though you may study the Upanishads, the Gita, the Bible, or any other book, do you think that you are capable of reading the truth of it when you yourself are confused? You will translate what you read according to your confusion, your likes and dislikes, your prejudices, your conditioning. Your approach, surely, is not to reality To find truth, Sir, is to understand yourself. Then truth comes to you you do not have to go to truth -and that is the beauty of it. If you go to truth, that which you approach is projected out of yourself, and therefore it is not truth. Then it becomes merely a process of self-hypnosis, which is organized religion. To find truth, for truth to come to you, you must see very clearly your own prejudices, opinions, ideas and conclusions; and that clarity comes through the freedom which is virtue. For the virtuous mind, there is truth everywhere. Then you do not belong to any organized religion, then you are free. So, truth comes into being when the mind is capable of receiving it, when the heart is empty of the things of the mind. At present our hearts are full of the things of the mind; and when the heart frees itself of the mind, then it is receptive, sensitive to reality. Question: Some of us who have listened to you for many years agree, perhaps only verbally, with all that you say. But actually, in daily life, we are dull, and there is not the living from moment to moment that you speak of. Why is there such a huge gap between thought, or rather words, and action? Krishnamurti: I think we mistake verbal appreciation for real understanding. Verbally we understand each other, we understand the words. I communicate to you verbally certain thoughts that I have, and you remain on the verbal level, and from that verbal level, you hope to act. So, you will have to find out if verbal appreciation brings about understanding, action. For example. when I say that goodwill, affection, love, is the only solution, the only way out of this mess, verbally you thoughtful, you will probably agree. Now, why don't you act? For the very simple reason that the verbal response is identified with the intellectual response. That is, intellectually you think you have grasped the idea, and so there is division between idea and action. That is why the cultivation of ideas creates, not understanding, but mere opposition, counter-ideas; and although this opposition may bring about a revolution, it will not be a real transformation of the individual and therefore of society. I do not know if I am making myself clear on this point. If we dwell on the verbal level, then we merely produce ideas, because words are things of the mind. Words are sensate, and if we dwell on the verbal level, words can only create sensate ideas and values. That is, one set of ideas creates counter-ideas, and these counter-ideas produce an action; but that action is merely reaction, the response to an idea. Most of us live merely verbally, we feed on words; the Bhagavad Gita says this, the Puranas say that; or, Marx says this, Einstein says that. Words can only produce ideas, and ideas will never produce action. Ideas can produce a reaction, but not action - and that is why we have this gap between verbal comprehension and action. Now, the questioner wants to know how to build the bridge between word and action. I say you cannot, you cannot bridge the gap between word and action. Please see the importance of this. Words can never produce action. They can only produce a response, a counter-action or reaction, and therefore still further reaction, like a wave; and in that wave you are caught. Whereas, action is quite a different thing, it is not reaction. So, you cannot bridge the gap between the word and the action. You have to leave the word - and then you will act. Our difficulty, then, is how to leave the word. That means, how to act without reaction. Do you follow? Because, as long as you are fed on words, you are bound to react; therefore you have to empty yourself of words, which means emptying yourself of imitation. Words are imitation, living on the verbal level is to live in imitation; and since our whole life is based on imitation, on copying, naturally we have made ourselves incapable of action. Therefore you have to investigate the various patterns which make you copy, imitate, live on the verbal level; and as you begin to unravel the various patterns that have made you imitative, you will find that you act without reaction. Sir, love is not a word; the word is not the thing, is it? God is not the word "god", love is not the word "love". But you are satisfied with the word, because the word gives you a sensation. When somebody says "God", you are psychologically or nervously affected, and that response you call the understanding of God. So, the word affects you nervously and sensuously, and that produces certain action. But the word is not the thing, the word "god" is not God; you have merely been fed on words, on nervous, sensuous responses. Please see the significance of this. How can you act if you have been fed on empty words? For words are empty, are they not? They can only produce a nervous response, but that is not action. Action can take place only when there is no imitative response, which means the mind must enquire into the whole process of verbal life. For example, some leader, political or religious, makes a statement, and without thought you say you agree ; and then you wave a flag, you fight for India or Germany. But you have not examined what was said; and since you have not examined, what you do is merely a reaction, and between reaction and action there can be no relationship. Most of us are conditioned to reaction, so you have to discover the causes of this conditioning; and as the mind begins to free itself from the conditioning you will find that there is action. Such action is not reaction, it is its own vitality, it is its own eternity. So, with most of us the difficulty is that we want to bridge the unbridgeable, we want to serve both God and mammon, we want to live on the verbal plane, and yet act. The two are incompatible. We all know reaction, but very few of us know action, because action can come only when we understand that the word is not the thing. When we understand that, then we can go much deeper, we can begin to uncover in ourselves all the fears, the imitations, escapes and authorities; but that means we have to live very dangerously, and very few of us want to live in a state of perpetual revolution. What we want is a backwater refuge where we can settle down and be comforted, emotionally, physically, or psychologically. As between a lazy man and a very active man there is no relationship, so there is no relationship between word and action; but once we understand that and see the whole significance of it, then there is action. Such action, surely, leads to reality; it is the field in which reality can operate. Then we do not have to seek out reality: it comes directly, mysteriously, silently, stealthily. And a mind that is capable of receiving reality is blessed. July 25, 1948 BANGALORE 5TH PUBLIC TALK 1ST AUGUST, 1948 In the last two talks we were considering the importance of individual action, which is not opposed to collective action. The individual is the world, he is both the root and the outcome of the total process, and without transformation of the individual, there can be no radical transformation in the world. Therefore, the important thing is not individual action as opposed to collective action, but to realize that true collective action can come about only through individual regeneration. It is important to understand the individual action which is not opposed to the collective. Because, after all, the individual, you and your neighbour, are part of a total process; the individual is not a separate, isolated process. You are, after all, the product of the whole of humanity, though you may be climatically, religiously and socially conditioned. You are the total process of man, and therefore, when you understand yourself as a total process - not as a separate process opposed to the mass or to the collective - , then through that understanding of yourself there can be a radical transformation. That is what we were talking about the last two times we met. Now, what do we mean by action? Obviously, action implies behaviour in relation to something. Action by itself is non-existent; it can only be in relation to an idea, to a person, or to a thing. And we have to understand action, because the world at the present time is crying for an action of some kind. We all want to act, we all want to know what to do, especially when the world is in such confusion, in such misery and chaos, when there are impending wars, when ideologies are opposing each other with such destructive force and religious organizations are pitting man against man. So, we must know what we mean by action; and in understanding what we mean by action, then perhaps we shall be able to act truly. To understand what we mean by action - which is behaviour, and behaviour is righteousness - , we must approach it negatively. That is, all positive approach to a problem must of necessity be according to a particular pattern; and action conforming to a pattern ceases to be action - it is merely conformity, and therefore not action. In order to understand action, that is, behaviour, which is righteousness, we have to find out how to approach it. We must understand first that any positive approach, which is trying to fit action to a pattern, to a conclusion, to an idea, is no longer action; it is merely continuity of the pattern, of the mould, and therefore it is not action at all. Therefore, to understand action, we must go to it negatively, that is, we must understand the false process of a positive action. Because, when I know the false as the false, and the truth as the truth, then the false will drop away and I will know how to act. That is, if I know what is false action, unrighteous action, action that is merely a continuation of conformity, then seeing the falseness of that action, I shall know how to act rightly. It is obvious that we need in everyday existence, in our social structure, in our political and religious life, a radical transformation of values, a complete revolution. Without laboring the point, I think it is obvious that there must be a change - or rather, not a change, which implies a modified continuity, but a transformation. There must be transformation, there must be a complete revolution, politically, socially, economically, in our relationship with each other, in every phase of life. Because, things cannot go on as they are - which is self-evident to any thoughtful person who is alert, watching world events. Now, how is this revolution in action to be brought about? - which is what we are discussing. How can there be action that transforms, not in time, but now? Is that not what we are concerned with? Because, there is so much misery, here in Bangalore as everywhere else throughout the world; there are economic slumps, there is dirt, poverty, unemployment, communal struggle, and so on and on, with the constant threat of a war in Europe. So, there must be a complete change of values, must there not? Not theoretically, because merely to discuss on the verbal level is futile, it has no meaning. It is like discussing food in front of a hungry man. So, we will not discuss merely verbally, and please don't be like spectators at a game. Let us both experience what we are talking about; because, if there is experiencing, then perhaps we shall understand how to act, and this will affect our lives and therefore bring a radical transformation. So, please do not be like spectators at a football game. You and I are going to take a journey together into the understanding of this thing called action, because that is what we are concerned with in our daily life. If we can understand action in the fundamental sense of the word, then that fundamental unrest and longing will affect our superficial activities also; but first we must understand the fundamental nature of action. Now is action brought about by an idea? Do you have an idea first, and act afterwards? Or, does action come first and then, because action creates conflict, you build around it an idea? That is, does action create the actor, or does the actor come first? This is not a philosophical speculation, it is not based on the Shastras, the Bhagavad Gita, or any other book. They are all irrelevant. Don't let us quote what other people say because as I have read none of the books, you will win. We are trying to find out directly whether action comes first, and the idea afterwards; or whether idea comes first, and then action follows. It is very important to discover which comes first. If the idea comes first, then action merely conforms to an idea, and therefore it is no longer action but imitation, compulsion according to an idea. It is very important to realize this; because, as our society is mostly constructed on the intellectual or verbal level, the idea comes first with all of us, and action follows. Action is then the handmaid of an idea, and the mere construction of ideas is obviously detrimental to action. That is, ideas breed further ideas, and when there is merely the breeding of ideas, there is antagonism, and society becomes top-heavy with the intellectual process of ideation. Our social structure is very intellectual, we are cultivating the intellect at the expense of every other factor of our being, and therefore we are suffocated with ideas. All this may sound rather abstract, academic, professorial, but it is not. Personally, I have a horror of academic discussion, theoretical speculations, because they lead nowhere. But it is very important that we find out what we mean by an idea, because the world is dividing itself over the opposing ideas of the left and of the right, the ideas of the communists as opposed to those of the capitalists; and without understanding the whole process of ideation, merely to take sides is infantile, it has no meaning. A mature man does not take sides; he tries to solve directly the problems of human suffering, human starvation, war and so on. We take sides only when we are moulded by the intellect, whose function is to fabricate ideas. So, it is very important, is it not?, to find out for ourselves, and not go according to what Marx, the Shastras, the Bhagavad Gita, or any of them says. You and I have to find out, because it is our problem; it is our daily problem to discover what is the right solution to our aching civilization. Now, can ideas ever produce action, or do ideas merely mould thought and therefore limit action? When action is compelled by an idea, action can never liberate man. Please, it is extraordinarily important for us to understand this point. If an idea shapes action, then action can never bring about the solution to our miseries; because, before it can be put into action, we have first to discover how the idea comes into being. The investigation of ideation, of the building up of ideas, whether of the socialists, the capitalists, the communists, or of the various religions, is of the utmost importance, especially when our society is at the edge of a precipice, inviting another catastrophe, another excision; and those who are really serious in their intention to discover the human solution to our many problems must first understand this process of ideation. As I said, this is not academic, it is the most practical approach to human life. It is not philosophical or speculative, because that is sheer waste of time. Let us leave it to the undergraduates to discuss theoretical matters in their unions or in their clubs. So, what do we mean by an idea? How does an idea come into being? And can idea and action be brought together? That is, I have an idea, and I wish to carry it out, so I seek a method of carrying out that idea; and we speculate, waste our time and energies, in quarrelling over how the idea should be carried out. So, it is really very important to find out how ideas come into being; and after discovering the truth of that, we can discuss the question of action. Without discussing ideas, merely to and out how to act, has no meaning. Now, how do you get an idea: - a very simple idea, it need not be philosophical, religious or economic. Obviously, it is a process of thought, is it not? Idea is the outcome of a thought process. Without a thought process, there can be no idea. So, I have to understand the thought process itself before I can understand its product, the idea. What do we mean by thought? When do you think? Obviously, thought is the result of a response, neurological or psychological, is it not? It is the immediate response of the senses to a sensation, or it is psychological, the response of stored up memory. There is the immediate response of the nerves to a sensation, and there is the psychological response of stored up memory, the influence of race, group, guru, family, tradition, and so on - all of which you call thought. So, the thought process is the response of memory, is it not? You would have no thoughts if you had no memory; and the response of memory to a certain experience brings the thought process into action. Say, for example, I have the stored up memories of nationalism, calling myself a Hindu. That reservoir of memories of past responses, actions, implications, traditions, customs, responds to the challenge of a Mussulman, a Buddhist or a Christian, and the response of memory to the challenge inevitably brings about a thought process. Watch the thought process operating in yourself and you can test the truth of this directly. You have been insulted by someone, and that remains in your memory, it forms part of the background; and when you meet the person, which is the challenge, the response is the memory of that insult. So, the response of memory, which is the thought process, creates an idea; therefore, the idea is always conditioned - and this is important to understand. That is, idea is the result of the thought process, the thought process is the response of memory, and memory is always conditioned. Memory is always in the past, and that memory is given life in the present by a challenge. Memory has no life in itself; it comes to life in the present when confronted by a challenge. And all memory, whether dormant or active, is conditioned, is it not? What, then, is memory? If you observe your own memory and how you gather memory,you will notice that it is either factual, technical, having to do with information, with engineering, mathematics, physics, and all the rest of it? or, it is the residue of an unfinished, uncompleted experience, is it not? Watch your own memory and you will see. When you finish an experience, complete it, there is no memory of that experience in the sense of a psychological residue. There is a residue only when an experience is not fully understood; and there is no understanding of experience because we look at each experience through past memories, and therefore we never meet the new as the new, but always through the screen of the old. Therefore, it is clear that our response to experience is conditioned, always limited. So, we see that experiences which are not completely understood leave a residue, which we call memory. That memory, when challenged, produces thought. That thought creates the idea, and the idea molds action. Therefore, action based on an idea can never be free; and therefore there is no release for any of us through an idea. Please, this is very important to understand. I am not building up an argument against ideas, I am painting the picture of how ideas can never bring about a revolution. Ideas can modify the present state, or change the present state, but that is not revolution. A substitution, or a modified continuity, is not revolution. As long as I am exploited, it matters very little whether I am exploited by private capitalists or by the state; but exploitation by the state we consider better than exploitation by the few. Is it any better? I am not talking of the top-dogs. Is it any better for the man who is exploited? So, mere modification is not revolution, it is merely reaction to a condition. That is, the capitalistic background may produce a reaction in the form of communism, but that is still on the same level. It is the modified continuity of capitalism in a different form. I am not advocating either capitalism or communism. We are trying to find out what we mean by change, what we mean by revolution. So, an idea can never produce revolution in the deepest sense of the word, in the sense of complete transformation. An idea can bring about a modified continuity of what is, but that is obviously not revolution. And we need a revolution, not a modified continuity; we need, not a substitution, but a complete transformation. So, to bring about revolution, that complete transformation, I must first understand ideas and how they arise; and if I understand ideas, if I see the false as the false, then I can proceed to enquire what we mean by action, if thought creates idea - or, if thought itself, put in verbal form, is what I call idea and if that thought is always conditioned because it is the response memory to a challenge which always new, then an idea can never bring about revolution in the deeper sense of the word; and yet that is what we are trying to do. We are looking to an idea to bring about transformation. I hope I am making myself clear. So, our problem is this: If I cannot look to an idea, which is a thought process, then how can I act? Please, before I can find out how to act, I must be completely sure that action based on an idea is utterly false; I must see that ideas shape action, and that action which is shaped by ideas will ever be limited. Therefore, there is no release through action based on an idea, on an ideology, or on a belief, because such action is the outcome of a thought process which is but the response of memory. That thought process must inevitably create an idea which is conditioned, limited, and an action based on a limitation can never free man, Action based on an idea is limited action, conditioned action, and if I look to that action as a means of freedom, obviously I can only continue in a conditioned state. Therefore, I cannot look to an idea as a guide to action. And yet that is what we are doing, because we are so addicted to ideas, whether they are other people's ideas or our own. So, what we have to do now is to find out how to act without the thought process - which sounds quite loony; but is it? Just see our problem, it is quite interesting. When I live and act within the thought process, which gives rise to idea, which in turn molds action, there is no release. Now, can I act without the thought process, which is memory? Please, don't let us be confused: by memory I do not mean factual memory. It would be absurd to talk of throwing away all the technical knowledge - how to build a house, a dynamo, a jet plane, how to break the atom, and so on and so on - that man has acquired through centuries, generation after generation. But can I live, can I act, be in relationship with another, without the psychological response of memory which results in ideation, and which in turn controls action? To most of us this may sound very odd, for we are accustomed to having an idea first, and then conforming action to the idea. All our disciplines, all our activities, are based on this - the idea first, and then conformity to the idea; and when I put the question to you, you have no answer, because you have not thought about it in this direction at all. As I say, it will sound crazy to many of you; but if you really examine the whole process of life very closely and seriously because you want to understand and not just throw words at each other, then this question as to what we mean by action is bound to arise. Now, is action really based on idea, or does action come first and the idea afterwards? If you observe still more closely, you will see that action comes first always, and not the idea. The monkey in the tree feels hungry, and then the urge arises to take a fruit or a nut. Action comes first, and then the idea that you had better store it up. To put it in different words, does action come first, or the actor? Is there an actor without action? Do you understand? This is what we are always asking ourselves: Who is it that sees? Who is the watcher? Is the thinker apart from his thoughts, the observer apart from the observed,the experiencer apart from the experience, the actor apart from the action? Is there an entity always dominating, overseeing observing action - call it Parabrahman, or what you will? When you give a name, you are merely caught in the idea, and that idea compels your thoughts; and therefore you say the actor comes first, and then the action. But if you really examine the process, very carefully, closely and intelligently, you will see that there is always action first, and that action with an end in view creates the actor. Do you follow? If action has an end in view, the gaining of that end brings about the actor. If you think very clearly and without prejudice,without conformity, without trying to convince somebody, without an end in view, in that very thinking there is no thinker - there is only the thinking. It is only when you seek an end in your thinking that you become important, and not thought. Perhaps some of you have observed this. It is really an important thing to find out, because from that we shall know how to act. If the thinker comes first, then the thinker is more important than thought, and all the philosophies, customs and activities of the present civilization are based on this assumption; but if thought comes first then thought is more important than the thinker. Of course they are related - there is no thought without the thinker, and there is no thinker without the thought. But I do not want to discuss this now, because we will get off the point. So, can there be action without memory? That means, can there be action which is constantly revolutionary? The only thing that is constantly revolutionary is action without the screen of memory. An idea cannot bring about constant revolution, because it always modifies action according to the background of its conditioning. Our question is, then, can there be action without the thought process which creates the idea, which in turn controls action? I say there can be, and that it can take place immediately when you see that idea is not a release, but a hindrance to action. If I see that, my action will not be based on any idea, and therefore I am in a state of complete revolution; and therefore there is the possibility of a society which is never static, which never needs to be overthrown and rebuilt. I say you can live with your wife, with your husband, with your neighbour in that state of action which does not conform to an idea; and that is possible only when you understand the significance of idea, how idea is brought about and molds action. The idea that molds action is detrimental to action, and a man who looks to an idea as a means of bringing about a revolution either in the mass or the individual, is looking in vain. Revolution is constant, it is never static. Ideas create, not a revolution, but merely a modified continuity. Only that action which is not based on an idea can bring about revolution which is constant and therefore ever renewing. There are many questions and I shall answer as many of them as possible. Question: What is the place of power in your scheme of things? Do you think human affairs can be run without compulsion? Krishnamurti: Now, what do you mean by "your scheme of things"? Obviously, you think I have a pattern in which I am putting life, (Laughter). Please, this is important, don't laugh it off. Most of us have a scheme, a blue print of how life should be according to Marx, Buddha, Christ or Sankara, or accord- ing to the United Nations, and we force life into that mould. We say, "It is a marvellous scheme, let us fit into it" - which is absurd. Beware of the man who has a scheme of life; anyone who follows him, follows confusion and sorrow. Life is much bigger than any scheme that any human being can invent. So, that is out. "What is the place of power? Do you think human affairs can be run without compulsion?" Now, what do we mean by power? There is the power that wealth gives, the power that knowledge brings, the power of an idea, the power of the technician. Which power do we mean? Obviously, the power to control, to dominate. That is what we mean by power, isn't it? The power that each one wants is the power which we exercise at home over the wife or the husband - only we want greater power to control, to dominate others. Also, there is the power which you give to the leader. Because you are confused, you hand over to the leader the reins of authority, and he guides and controls you; or you yourself would like to be the leader, and so on and on. And there is the power of love, of understanding, of kindliness, of mercy, the power of reality. Now, we have to be very clear which power we are referring to. There is the power of an army, that enormous power to destroy, to maim, to bring horror to mankind; and there is the power of a strong government, or of a strong personality. Merely to be in power is comparatively easy. Power implies domination; and the more power you have, the more evil you become - which is shown over and over again throughout history. The power to dominate, a mould, to shape, to control, to force others to think what the authorities want them to think - surely, this is a power which is utterly evil, utterly dark and stupid. So also is the power of the rich man swaggering in his factory, and the power of the ambitious man in government affairs. Obviously, all that is power in its most stupid form, because it dominates, controls, shapes, warps human beings. Now, there is the so-called power of love, the power of understanding. Is love a power? Does love dominate, twist, shape the human heart? If it does, it is no longer love. Love, understanding, truth, has its own quality; it does not compel, therefore it is not on the same level as power. Love, truth, or understanding comes when all these ideas of compulsion, authority, dogmatism, have ceased. Humility is not the opposite of authority or of power. The cultivation of humility is merely the desire for authority, for power, in a different guise. So, what is happening in the world? The power of governments, of States, the power of leaders, of the clever orators and writers, is used more and more for the shaping of man, compelling man to think along a certain line, teaching him, not how to think, but what to think. That has become the function of governments, with their enormous power of propaganda - which is the ceaseless repetition of an idea; and any repetition of an idea or of truth, becomes a lie. Because there is confusion, misery in our minds and hearts, we create leaders who control us, shape us, and so do our governments. All over the world there is conformity to the dictates of the military, the social environment is influencing us to conform; and do you think that understanding or love comes through compulsion? Do you have goodwill through compulsion? If I am the dictator can I compel you to have goodwill? So, the compulsion which comes with placing enormous power in the hands of those who can wield it, does not bring men together. As I was explaining in my talk compulsion is the outcome of an idea. Surely, a man who is drunk with ideology is intolerant, he creates the torture of compulsion. Obviously, there can never be understanding, love, communion with each other, when there is compulsion; and no society can be built on compulsion. Such a society may for a time succeed technically, superficially; but inwardly there is the agony of being compelled, and therefore, like a prisoner kept within four walls, there is always the seeking for a release, for an escape, a way out. So, a government or a society that compels, shapes, forces the individual from the outside, will eventually create disorder, chaos and violence. That is exactly what is happening in the world. Then, we compel ourselves to conform to a pattern, calling it discipline, which is suppression, and suppression gives you a certain power. But in either extreme, in either opposite, there is no stability, and human minds go from one to the other, evading the quiet stability of understanding. A mind that is compelled, a mind that is caught in power, can never know love; and without love, there is no solution to our problems. You may postpone understanding, intellectually you may avoid it, you may cleverly build bridges, but they are all temporary; and without goodwill, without mercy, without generosity, without kindliness, there is bound to be ever increasing misery and destruction, because compulsion is not the cement that brings human beings together. Compulsion in any form, inward or outward, only creates further confusion, further misery. What we need in world affairs at the present time is not more ideas, more blue prints, bigger and better leaders, but goodwill, affection, love, kindliness. Therefore, what we need is the person who loves, who is kind; and that is you, not somebody else. Love is not the worship of God; you may worship a stone image, or your conception of God, and that is a marvellous escape from your brutal husband or your nagging wife, but it does not solve our difficulty. Love is the only solvent, and love is kindness to your wife, to your child, to your neighbour. Question: Why are we so callous to each other in spite of all the suffering it involves? Krishnamurti: Why am I or why are you callous to another man's suffering? Why are we indifferent to the coolie who is carrying a heavy load, to the woman who is carrying a baby? Why are we so callous? To understand that, we must understand why suffering makes us dull. Surely, it is suffering that makes us callous; because we don't understand suffering, we become indifferent to it. If I understand suffering, then I become sensitive to suffering, awake to everything, not only to myself, but to the people about me, to my wife, to my children, to an animal, to a beggar. But we don't want to understand suffering, we want to escape from suffering; and the escape from suffering makes us dull, and therefore we are callous. Sir, the point is that suffering, when not understood, dulls the mind and heart; and we do not understand suffering because we want to escape from it, through the guru, through a saviour, through mantras, through reincarnation, through ideas, through drink and every other kind of addiction - anything to escape what is. So, our temples, our churches, our politics, our social reforms, are mere escapes from the fact of suffering. We are not concerned with suffering, we are concerned with the idea of how to be released from suffering. We are concerned with ideas, not with suffering; we are constantly looking for a better idea and how to carry it out, which is so infantile. When you are hungry, you don't discuss how to eat; you say, "Give me food", you are not concerned with who will bring it, whether the left or the right, or which ideology is the best. But when you want to avoid the understanding of what is, which is suffering, then you escape into ideologies; and that is why our minds, though superficially very clever, have essentially become dull, rude, callous, brutal. To understand suffering requires seeing the falseness of all the escapes, whether God or drink. All escapes are the same though socially each may have a different significance. When I escape from sorrow, all escapes are on the same level - there is no "better escape. Now, the understanding of suffering does not lie in finding out what the cause is. Any man can know the cause of suffering; his own thoughtlessness, his stupidity, his narrowness, his brutality, and so on. But if I look at the suffering itself without wanting an answer, then what happens? Then, as I am not escaping, I begin to understand suffering; my mind is watchfully alert, keen, which means I become sensitive, and being sensitive, I am aware of other people's suffering. Therefore I am not callous, therefore I am kind, not merely to my friends - I am kind to everyone, because I am sensitive to suffering. We are callous because we have become dull to suffering, we have dulled our minds through escapes. Escape gives a great deal of power, and we like power, we like to have a radio, a motor car, an airplane, we like to have money and enjoy immense power. But when you understand suffering, there is no power, there is no escape through power. When you understand suffering, there is kindliness, there is affection. Affection, love, demands the highest intelligence, and without sensitivity there is no great intelligence. Question: Can you not build up a following and use it rightly? Must you remain a voice in the desert? Krishnamurti: Now what do you mean by a following, and what do you mean by a leader? Why do you follow, and why do you create a leader? If you are interested, please consider this closely. When do you follow? You follow only when you are confused; when you are unhappy when you feel torn down, you want someone - a political, a religious, a military leader - to help you to take you out of your misery. When you are clear, when you understand, you do not want to be led. You want to be led only when you are yourself in confusion, with all its implications. So, what happens? When you are confused, how can you see clearly? Since you cannot see clearly, you will choose a leader who is also confused. (Laugher) Don't laugh. This is what is happening in the world, and it is disastrous. It may sound very clever, but it is not. How can a blind man choose a leader? He can only choose those around him. Similarly a confused man can only choose a leader who is as confused as himself. And what happens? Being confused, your leader naturally leads you to further confusion, further disaster, further misery. That is what is taking place all over the world. For God's sake, Sirs, look at it - it is your misery? You are being led to the slaughter because you refuse to see and clear away the cause of your own confusion. And because you refuse to see it, you are creating out of your confusion the clever, the cunning leaders who exploit you because, the leader, like you, is seeking self-fulfilment. Therefore you become a necessity to the leader, and the leader becomes a necessity to you - it is a mutual exploitation. So, why do you want a leader? And can there ever be a right leadership? You and I can help each other to clear up our own confusion - which does not mean that I become your leader and you become my follower, or I am your guru and you are my pupil. We simply help each other to understand the confusion that exists in our own hearts and minds. It is only when you do not want to understand the confusion that you run away from it, and then you will turn to somebody, to a leader or a guru. But if you want to understand it, then you must look to the common misery, the aches, the burdens, the loneliness; and you can look only when you are not trying to find an answer, a way out of the confusion. You look at it because confusion itself leads to misery, therefore you want to understand it; and when you understand, clear it up, you will be free as the air, you will love, you will not follow, you will have no leaders; and then will come the society of true equality, without class or caste. Sirs, you are not seeking truth, you are trying to find a way out of some difficulty; and that is your misery. You want leaders to direct you, to pull you along, to force you, to make you conform -and that inevitably leads to destruction, to greater suffering. Suffering is what is happening directly in front of us, yet we refuse to see it and we want "right" leaders - which is so immature. To me, all leadership indicates a deterioration of society. A leader in society is a destructive element. (Laughter.) Don't laugh it off, don't pass it by: look at it. It is very serious, especially now. The world is on the verge of a catastrophe, it is rapidly disintegrating; and merely to find another leader, a new Churchill, a greater Stalin, a different God, is utterly futile; because, the man who is confused can choose only according to the dictates of his own mind, which is confusion. Therefore, it is no good seeking a leader, right or wrong. There is no "right" leader - all leaders are wrong. What you have to do is to clear your own confusion. And confusion is set aside only when you understand yourself; with the beginning of self-knowledge, there comes clarity. Without self-knowledge, there is no release from confusion; without self-knowledge, confusion is like a wave eternally catching you up. So, it is very important for those who are really serious and in earnest to begin with themselves, and not seek release or escape from confusion. The moment you understand confusion, you are free of it. Question: Grains of truth are to be found in religions, theories, ideas, and beliefs. What is the right way of separating them? Krishnamurti: The false is the false, and by seeking you cannot separate the false from the truth, you have to see the false as the false, and then only is there the cessation of the false. You cannot seek the truth in the false, but you can see the false as the false, and then there is a release from the false. Sir, how can the false contain the truth? How can ignorance, darkness, contain understanding, light? I know we would like to have it so; we would like to think that somewhere in us there is eternity, light, truth, piety all covered over with ignorance. Where there is light, there is no darkness; where there is ignorance, there is always ignorance, but never understanding. So, there is release only when you and I see the false as the false, that is, when we see the truth about the false, which means not dwelling in the false as the false. Our seeing the false as the false is prevented by our prejudice, by our conditioning. With that understanding, let us proceed. Now, the question is, is there not truth in religions, in theories, in ideals, in beliefs? Let us examine. What do we mean by religion? Surely, not organized religion, not Hinduism, Buddhism, or Christianity - which are all organized beliefs with their propaganda, conversion, proselytism, compulsion, and so on. Is there any truth in organized religion? It may engulf, enmesh truth, but the organized religion itself is not true. Therefore, organized religion is false, it separates man from man. You are a Mussulman, I am a hindu, another is a Christian or a Buddhist - and we are wrangling, butchering each other. Is there any truth in that? We are not discussing religion as the pursuit of truth, but we are considering if there is any truth in organized religion. We are so conditioned by organized religion to think there is truth in it that we have come to believe that by calling oneself a Hindu one is somebody, or one will find God. How absurd! Sir, to find God, to find reality, there must be virtue. Virtue is freedom, and only through freedom can truth be discovered - not when you are caught in the hands of organized religion, with its beliefs. And is there any truth in theories, in ideals, in beliefs? Why do you have beliefs? Obviously, because beliefs give you security, comfort, safety, a guide. In yourself you are frightened, you want to be protected, you want to lean on somebody, and therefore you create the ideal, which prevents you from understanding that which is; Therefore, an ideal becomes a hindrance to action. Sir, when I am violent, why do I want to pursue the ideal of non-violence? For the obvious reason that I want to avoid violence, escape from violence. I cultivate the ideal in order not to have to face and understand violence. Why do I want the ideal at all? It is an impediment. If I want to understand violence, I must try to understand what it is directly, not through the screen of an ideal. The ideal is false, fictitious, preventing me from understanding that which I am. Look at it more closely, and you will see. If I am violent, to understand violence I do not want an ideal; to look at violence, I do not need a guide. But I like to be violent, it gives me a certain sense of power, and I will go on being violent, though I cover it up with the ideal of nonviolence. So, the ideal is fictitious, it is simply not there. It exists only in the mind; it is an idea to be achieved, and in the meantime I can be violent. Therefore, an ideal, like a belief, is unreal, false. Now, why do I want to believe? Surely, a man who is understanding life does not want beliefs. A man who loves, has no beliefs - he loves. It is the man who is consumed by the intellect that has beliefs, because intellect is always seeking security, protection; it is always avoiding danger, and therefore it builds ideas, beliefs, ideals, behind which it can take shelter. What would happen if you dealt with violence directly, now? You would be a danger to society; and because the mind foresees the danger, it says, "I will achieve the ideal of non-violence ten years later, -which is such a fictitious, false process. So, theories - we are not dealing with mathematical theories, and all the rest of it, but with the theories that arise in connection with our human, psychological problems - theories, beliefs, ideals, are false, because they prevent us from seeing things as they are. To understand what is, is more important than to create and follow ideals; because ideals are false, and what is is the real. To understand what is requires an enormous capacity, a swift and unprejudiced mind. It is because we don't want to face and understand what is that we invent the many ways of escape and give them lovely names as the ideal, the belief, God. Surely, it is only when see the false as the false that my mind is capable of perceiving what is true. A mind that is confused in the false, can never find the truth. Therefore, I must understand what is false in my relationships, in my ideas, in the things about me; because, to perceive the truth requires the understanding of the false. Without removing the causes of ignorance, there cannot be enlightenment; and to seek enlightenment when the mind is unenlightened is utterly empty, meaningless. Therefore, I must begin to see the false in my relationships with ideas, with people, with things. When the mind sees that which is false, then that which is true comes into being; and then there is ecstasy, there is happiness. August 1, 1948 BANGALORE 6TH PUBLIC TALK 8TH AUGUST, 1948 We have been discussing, the several times that we have met, the problem of transformation, which alone can bring about the revolution which is so necessary in the world's affairs. And, as we have seen, the world is not different from you and me: the world is what we make it. We are the result of the world, and we are the world; so the transformation must begin with us, not with the world, not with outward legislation, blue prints, and so on. It is essential that each one should realize the importance of this inner transformation, which will bring about an outward revolution. Mere change in the outward circumstances of life is of very little significance without the inner transformation; and, as we said, this inner transformation can not take place without self-knowledge. Self-knowledge is to know the total process of oneself, the ways of one's own thinking, feeling, and action; and without knowing oneself, there is no basis for broader action. So, self-knowledge is of primary importance. One must obviously begin to understand oneself in all one's actions, thoughts and feelings, because the self, the mind, the "me" is so very complex and subtle. So many impositions have been placed upon the mind, the "me", so many influences - racial, religious, national, social, environmental - have shaped it, that to follow each step, to analyze each imprint, is extremely difficult; and if we miss one, if we do not analyze properly and miss one step, then the whole process of analysis miscarries. So, our problem is to understand the self, the "me" - not just one part of the "me", but the whole field of thought, which is the response of the "me". We have to understand the whole field of memory from which all thought arises, both the conscious and the unconscious; and all that is the self - the hidden as well as the open, the dreamer and what he dreams. Now, to understand the self, which alone can bring about a radical revolution, a regeneration, there must be the intention to understand its whole process. The process of the individual is not opposed to the world, to the mass, whatever that term may mean; because, there is no mass apart from you - you are the mass. So, to understand that process, there must be the intention to know what is, to follow every thought, feeling and action; and to understand what is is extremely difficult, because what is is never still, never static, it is always in movement. The what is is what you are, not what you would like to be; it is not the ideal, because the ideal is fictitious, but it is actually what you are doing, thinking and feeling from moment to moment. What is is the actual, and to understand the actual requires awareness, a very alert, swift mind. But if we begin to condemn what is, if we begin to blame or resist it, then we shall not understand its movement. If I want to understand somebody, I cannot condemn him: I must observe, study him. I must love the very thing I am studying. If you want to understand a child, you must love and not condemn him. You must play with him, watch his movements, his idiosyncrasies, his ways of behaviour; but if you merely condemn, resist or blame him, there is no comprehension of the child. Similarly, to understand what is, one must observe what one thinks, feels and does from moment to moment. That is the actual. Any other action, any ideal or ideological action, is not the actual; it is merely a wish, a fictitious desire to be something other than what is. So, to understand what is requires a state of mind in which there is no identification or condemnation, which means a mind that is alert and yet passive. We are in that state when we really desire to understand something; when the intensity of interest is there, that state of mind comes into being. When one is interested in understanding what is, the actual state of the mind, one does not need to force, discipline, or control it; on the contrary, there is passive alertness, watchfulness. If I want to understand a picture or a person, I must put aside all my prejudices, my preconceptions, my classical or other training, and study the picture or the person directly. This state of awareness comes when there is interest, the intention to understand. Now, the next question is whether transformation is a matter of time. Most of us are accustomed to think that time is necessary for transformation: I am something, and to change what I am into what I should be requires time. I am greedy, with its results of confusion, antagonism, conflict and misery; and to bring about the transformation, which is non-greed, we think time is necessary. That is, time is considered as a means for evolving something greater, for becoming something. Do you understand the problem? The problem is this: One is violent, greedy, envious, angry, vicious, or passionate. Now, to transform what is, is time necessary? First of all, why do we want to change what is, or bring about a transformation? Why? Because what we are dissatisfies us; it creates conflict, disturbance; and disliking that state, we want something better, something nobler, more idealistic. So, we desire transformation because there is pain, discomfort, conflict. Now, is conflict overcome by time? If you say it will be overcome by time, you are still in conflict. That is, you may say it will take 20 days or 20 years to get rid of conflict, to change what you are; but during that time you are still in conflict, and therefore time does not bring about transformation. When we use time as a means of acquiring a quality, a virtue, or a state of being, we are merely postponing or avoiding what is; and I think it is important to understand this point. Greed or violence causes pain, disturbance, in the world of our relationship with another, which is society; and being conscious of this state of disturbance, which we term greed or violence, we say to ourselves, "I will get out of it in time. I will practise non-violence, I will practise non-envy, I will practise peace". Now, you want to practise non-violence because violence is a state of disturbance, conflict, and you think that in time you will gain nonviolence and overcome the conflict. So, what is actually happening? Being in a state of conflict, you want to achieve a state in which there is no conflict. Now, is that state of no-conflict the result of time, of a duration? Obviously not. Because, while you are achieving a state of nonviolence, you are still being violent and are therefore still in conflict. So, our problem is, can a conflict, a disturbance, be overcome in a period of time, whether it be days, years, or lives? What happens when you say, "I am going to practise nonviolence during a certain period of time"? The very practice indicates that you are in conflict, does it not? You would not practise if you were not resisting conflict; and you say the resistance to conflict is necessary in order to overcome conflict and for that resistance you must have time. But the very resistance to conflict is itself a form of conflict. You are spending your energy in resisting conflict in the form of what you call greed, envy, or violence, but your mind is still in conflict. So, it is important to see the falseness of the process of depending on time as a means of overcoming violence, and thereby be free of that process. Then you are able to be what you are: a psychological disturbance which is violence itself. Now, to understand anything, any human or scientific problem, what is important, what is essential? A quiet mind, is it not? A mind that is intent on understanding. It is not a mind that is exclusive, that is trying to concentrate - which again is an effort of resistance. If I really want to understand something, there is immediately a quiet state of mind. That is, when you want to listen to music or look at a picture which you love, which you have a feeling for, what is the state of your mind. Immediately there is a quietness, is there not? When you are listening to music, your mind does not wander all over the place; you are listening. Similarly, when you want to understand conflict, you are no longer depending on time at all; you are simply confronted with what is, which is conflict. Then immediately there comes a quietness, a stillness of mind. So, when you no longer depend on time as a means of transforming what is because you see the falseness of that process, then you are confronted with what is; and as you are interested to understand what is, naturally you have a quiet mind. In that alert yet passive state of mind, there is understanding. As long as the mind is in conflict, blaming, resisting, condemning, there can be no understanding. If I want to understand you, I must not condemn you, obviously. So, it is that quiet mind, that still mind, which brings about transformation. When the mind is no longer resisting, no longer avoiding, no longer discarding or blaming what is, but is simply passively aware, then in that passivity of the mind you will find, if you really go into the problem, that there comes a transformation. So, transformation is not the result of time: it is the result of a quiet mind, a steady mind, a mind that is still, tranquil, passive. The mind is not passive when it is seeking a result; and the mind will seek a result as long as it wishes to transform, change, or modify what is. But if the mind simply has the intention to understand what is and is therefore still, in that stillness you will find there is an understanding of what is, and therefore a transformation. We actually do this when we are confronted with anything in which we are interested. Observe yourself, and you will see this extraordinary process going on. When you are interested in something, your mind is quiet. It has not gone to sleep, it is extremely alert and sensitive, and is therefore capable of receiving hints, intimations; and it is this stillness, this alert passivity, that brings a transformation. This does not involve using time as a means of transformation, modification, or change. Revolution is only possible now, not in the future; regeneration is today, not tomorrow. If you will experiment with what I have been saying, you will find that there is immediate regeneration, a newness, a quality of freshness; because, the mind is always still when it is interested, when it desires or has the intention to understand. The difficulty with most of us is that we have not the intention to understand, because we are afraid that, if we understood, it might bring about a revolutionary action in our life; and therefore we resist. It is the defence mechanism that is at work when we use time or an ideal as a means of gradual transformation. So, regeneration is only possible in the present, not in the future, not tomorrow. A man who relies on time as a means through which he can gain happiness, or realize truth or God, is merely deceiving himself; he is living in ignorance, and therefore in conflict. But a man who sees that time is not the way out of our difficulty, and who is therefore free from the false, such a man naturally has the intention to understand; therefore his mind is quiet spontaneously, without compulsion, without practice. When the mind is still, tranquil, not seeking any answer or any solution, neither resisting nor avoiding - it is only then that there can be a regeneration, because then the mind is capable of perceiving what is true; and it is truth that liberates, not your effort to be free. I will answer some of the questions that have been given to me. Question: You speak so much about the need for ceaseless alertness. I find my work dulls me so irresistibly, that to talk of alertness after a day's work is merely putting salt on the wound. Krishnamurti: Sir, this is an important question. Please let us examine it together carefully and see what it involves. Now, most of us are dulled by what we call our work, the job, the routine. Those who live work, and those who are forced to work out of necessity and who see that work makes them, dull - they are both dull. Both those who love their work, and those who resist it, are made dull, are they not? A man who loves his work, what does he do? He thinks about it from morning to night, he is constantly occupied with it. He is so identified with his work that he cannot look at it - he is himself the action, the work; and to such a person, what happens? He lives in a cage, he lives in isolation with his work. In that isolation he may be very clever, very inventive, very subtle, but still he is isolated; and he is made dull because he is resisting all other work, all other approaches. His work is therefore a form of escape from life - from his wife, from his social duties, from innumerable demands, and so on. And there is the man in the other category, the man who, like most of you, is compelled to do something he dislikes and who resists it. He is the factory worker, the bank clerk, the lawyer, or whatever our various jobs are. Now, what is it that makes us dull? Is it the work itself? Or is it our resistance to work, or our avoidance of other impacts upon us? Do you follow the point? I hope I am making it clear. That is, the man who loves his work is so enclosed in it, so enmeshed, that it becomes an addiction. Therefore his love of work is an escape from life. And the man who resists work, who wishes he were doing something else, for him there is the ceaseless conflict of resistance to what he is doing. So, our problem is, does work make the mind dull? Or is dullness brought about by resistance to work on the one hand, and by the use of work to avoid the impacts of life, on the other? That is, does action, work, make the mind dull? Or is the mind made dull by avoidance, by conflict, by resistance? Obviously, it is not work, but resistance, that dulls the mind. If you have no resistance and accept work, what happens? The work does not make you dull,because only a part of your mind is working with the job that you have to do. The rest of your being, the unconscious, the hidden, is occupied with those thoughts in which you are really interested. So there is no conflict. This may sound rather complex; but if you will carefully follow it, you will see that the mind is made dull, not by work, but by resistance to work, or by resistance to life. Say, for example, you have to do a certain piece of work which may take five or six hours. If you say, "What a bore, what an awful thing, I wish I could be doing something else", obviously your mind is resisting that work. Part of your mind is wishing you were doing something else. This division, brought about through resistance, creates dullness, because you are using your effort wastefully, wishing you were doing something else. Now if you do not resist it, but do what is actually necessary, then you say, "I have to earn my livelihood and I will earn that livelihood rightly". But right livelihood does not mean the army, the police, or being a lawyer, because they thrive on contention, disturbance, cunning subterfuge and so on. This is quite a difficult problem in itself, which we will perhaps discuss later if we have time. So, if you are occupied in doing something which you have to do to earn your livelihood, and if you resist it, obviously the mind becomes dull; because that very resistance is like running an engine with the brake on. What happens to the poor engine? Its performance becomes dull, does it not? If you have driven a car, you know what will happen if you keep putting on the brake - you will not only wear out the brake, but you will wear out the engine. That is exactly what you are doing when you resist work. Whereas, if you accept what you have to do, and do it as intelligently and as fully as possible, then what happens? Because you are no longer resisting, the other layers of your consciousness are active irrespective of what you are doing; you are giving only the conscious mind to your work, and the unconscious, the hidden part of your mind is occupied with other things in which there is much more vitality, much more depth. Though you face the work, the unconscious takes over and functions. Now, if you observe, what actually happens in your daily life? You are interested, say, in finding God, in having peace. That is your real interest, with which your conscious as well as your unconscious mind is occupied: to find happiness, to find reality, to live rightly, beautifully, clearly. But you have to earn a livelihood, because there is no such thing as living in isolation: that which is, is in relationship. So, being interested in peace, and since your work in daily life interferes with that, you resist work. You say, "I wish I had more time to think, to meditate, to practise the violin" -or whatever it be. When you do that, when you merely resist the work you have to do, that very resistance is a waste of effort which makes the mind dull; whereas, if you realize that we all do various things which have got to be done - writing letters, talking, clearing away the cow dung, or what you will - and therefore don't resist, but say, "I have got to do that work", then you will do it willingly and without boredom. If there is no resistance, the moment that work is over, you will find that the mind is peaceful; because the unconscious, the deeper layers of the mind, are interested in peace, you will find that peace begins to come. So, there is no division between action which may be routine, which may be uninteresting, and your pursuit of reality: they are compatible when the mind is no longer resisting, when the mind is no longer made dull through resistance. It is the resistance that creates the division between peace and action. Resistance is based on an idea, and resistance cannot bring about action. It is only action that liberates, not the resistance to work. So, it is important to understand that the mind is made dull through resistance, through condemnation, blame, and avoidance. The mind is not dull when there is no resistance. When there is no blame, no condemnation, then it is alive, active. Resistance is merely isolation; and the mind of man who, consciously or unconsciously, is continually isolating himself, is made dull by this resistance. Question: Do you love the people you talk to? Do you love the dull and ugly crowd, the shapeless faces, the stinking atmosphere of stale desires, of putrid memories, the decaying of many needless lives? No one can love them. What is it that makes you slave away in spite of your repugnance, which is both obvious and understandable? Krishnamurti: No Sirs there is no repugnance, which is apparently obvious and understandable to you. I am not repelled. I only see it like I see a fact. A fact is never ugly. When you are talking seriously, a man may be scratching his ear, or playing with his legs, or looking about. As for you, you just observe it - which does not mean that you are revolted, that you want to avoid it, or that you hate the fact. A smell is a smell - you just take it; and it is very important to understand that point. To see a fact as a fact is an important reality. But the moment you regret or avoid it, call it a name, give it an emotional content, obviously there is repugnance, avoidance, and then resistance comes into being. Now, that is not my attitude at all, and I am afraid the questioner has me wrongly there. It is like seeing that a person has a red sari or a white coat; but if you give emotional content to the red and the white, saying this is beautiful or that is ugly, then you are repelled or attracted. Now, the point in this question is why do I talk? Why do I wear myself out, if I don't love the people who have "shapeless faces, stale desires, putrid memories", and so on? And the questioner says that no one can love them. Now, does one love people, or is there love? Is love independent of people, and therefore you love people, or is one in a state of love? Do you follow what I mean? If I say, "I love people", and slave away, wear myself out talking, then the people become very important, and not love. That is, if I have the intention to convert you to a particular belief, and slave away at it from morning till night because I think I can make you happy if you believe in my particular formula, then it is the formula, the belief that I love, not you. Then I put up with all the ugliness, "the stale desires, the putrid memories, the stinking atmosphere", and I say it is part of the whole routine; I become a martyr to my belief, which I think will help you. So, I am in love with my belief; and as my belief is my own projection, therefore I am in love with myself. After all, a man who loves a belief, an idea, a scheme, identifies himself with that formula, and that formula is a projection of himself. Obviously, he never identifies himself with something of which he does not approve. If he likes me, that very liking is his own projection. Now, if I may say it without being personal, to me it is quite different. I am not trying to convert you, to proselytize you or to do propaganda against any particular religion. I am just stating the facts, because I feel the very understanding of these facts will help man to live more happily. When you love something, when you love a person, what is the actual state? Are you in love with the person, or are you in a state of love? Surely, the person attracts or repels you only when you are not in that state. When you are in that state of love, there is no repugnance. It is like a flower giving perfume: next to it a cow may have left its mark, but the flower is still a flower giving forth its perfume. But a man comes along and, seeing the cow dung beside the flower, regards it differently. Sir, in this question is involved the whole problem of attraction and repulsion. We want to be attracted, that is, to identify ourselves with that which is pleasant, and avoid that which is ugly. But if you merely look at things as they are, the fact itself is never ugly or repellent - it is simply a fact. A man who loves is consumed by his love, he is not concerned with whether people have shapeless faces, stale desires and putrid memories. "Don't you know, Sirs? When you are in love with someone, actually you are not very much concerned with what that person looks like, whether it is a shapeless face or a beautiful face. When there is love, you are not concerned; though you observe the facts, the facts do not repel you. It is not love, but the empty heart, the arid mind, the stale intellect, that is repelled or attracted. And when one loves, there is no "slaving away. "There is ever a renewal, a freshness, a joy - not in talking, not in putting out a lot of words, but in that state itself. It is when one does not love that all these things matter - whether you are attractive or repellent, whether face is shapeless or beautiful, and so on and on. So, why I "slave away" is not important. Our problem is that we have no love. Because our hearts are empty, our minds dull, weary, exhausted, we seek to fill the empty heart with the things made by the mind or by the hand; or we repeat words, mantrams, do pujas. Those things will not fill the heart; on the contrary, they will empty the heart of whatever it has. The heart can be filled only when the mind is quiet. When the mind is not creating, fabricating, caught up in ideas - only then is the heart alive. Then one knows what it is to have that warmth, the richness in holding the hand of another. Question: Is not all caress sexual? Is not all sex a form of revitalization, through interpretation and exchange? The mere exchange of loving glances is also an act of sex. Why do you castigate sex by linking it up with the emptiness of our lives? Do empty people know sex? They know only evacuation. Krishnamurti: I am afraid it is only the empty people who know sex, because sex then is an escape, a mere release. I call him empty who has no love; and for him sex becomes a problem, an issue, a thing to be avoided or to be indulged. The heart is empty when the mind is full of its own ideas, fabrications and mechanization. Because the mind is full, the heart is empty; and it is only the empty heart that knows sex. Sirs, have you not noticed? An affectionate man, a man full of tenderness, kindliness, consideration, is not sexual. It is the man who is intellectual, full of knowledge, knowledge being different from wisdom; the man who has schemes, who wants to save the world, who is full of intellection, full of mentation - it is he who is caught up in sex. Because his life is shallow, his heart empty, sex becomes important - and that is what is happening in the present civilization. We have over-cultivated our intellect, and the mind is caught in its own creations as the radio, the motor car, the mechanized amusements, the technical knowledge, and the various addictions the mind indulges in. When such a mind is caught, there is only one release for it, which is sex. Sirs, look at what is happening within each one of us, don't look at somebody else. Examine your own life and you will see how you are caught in this problem, how extraordinarily empty your life is. What is your life, Sirs? Bright, arid, empty, dull, weary, is it not? You go to your offices, do your jobs, repeat your mantrams, perform your pujas. When you are in the office, you are subjugated, dull, you have to follow a routine; you have become mechanical in your religion, it is mere acceptance of authority. So, religiously, in the world of business, in your education, in your daily life, what is actually happening? There is no creative state of being, is there? You are not happy, you are not vital, you are not joyous. Intellectually, religiously, economically, socially, politically, you are dull, regimented, are you not? This regimentation is the result of your own fears, your own hopes, your own frustrations; and since for a human being so caught there is no release, naturally he looks to sex for a release - there he can indulge himself, there he can seek happiness. So, sex becomes automatic, habitual, routine, and that also becomes a dulling, a vicious process. That is your life, actually, if you look at it, if you don't try to dodge it, if you don't try to excuse it. The actual fact is, you are not creative. You may have babies, innumerable babies, but that is not creative action, that is an accidental action of existence. So, a mind that is not alert, vital, a heart that is not affectionate, full, how can it be creative? And not being creative, you seek stimulation through sex, through amusement, cinemas, theatres, through watching others play while you remain a spectator; others paint the scene or dance, and you yourself are but an observer. That is not creation. Similarly, so many books are printed in the world because you merely read. You are not the creator. Where there is no creation, the only release is through sex, and then you make your wife or husband the prostitute. Sirs, you have no idea of the implications, the wickedness, the cruelty of all this. I know you are uncomfortable. You are not thinking it out. You are shutting your mind, and therefore sex has become an immense problem in modern civilization - either promiscuity, or the mechanical habit of sexual release in marriage. Sex will remain a problem as long as there is no creative state of being. You may use birth control, you may adopt various practices, but you are not free of sex. Sublimation is not freedom, suppression is not freedom, control is not freedom. There is freedom only when there is affection, when there is love. Love is pure; and when that is missing, your trying to become pure through the sublimation of sex is mere stupidity. The factor that purifies is love, not your desire to be pure. A man who loves is pure, though he may be sexual; and without love, sex is what it is now in your lives - a routine, an ugly process, a thing to be avoided, ignored, done away with, or indulged in. So, this problem of sex will exist as long as there is no creative release. There can be no creative release, religiously, if you accept authority, whether of tradition, the sacred books, or the priest; for authority compels, distorts, perverts. Where there is authority there is compulsion, and you accept authority because you hope through religion to have security; and while the mind is seeking security, intellectually or religiously, there can be no creative understanding, there can be no creative release. It is the mind, the mechanism of the mind that is always seeking security, always wanting certainty. The mind is ever moving from the known to the known; and mere cultivation of the mind, of the intellect, is not a release. On the contrary, the intellect can grasp only the known, never the unknown. Therefore the mere cultivation of the mind through more and more knowledge, more and more technique, is not creative. A mind that wishes to be creative must set aside the desire to be secure, which means the desire to find authority. Truth can come into being only when the mind is free from the known, when the mind is free from security, the desire to be certain. But look at our education: mere passing of examinations to get a job, adding a few letters after your name. It has become so mechanical, it is but the cultivation of the mind, which is memory. In that way there is no release either. So, socially, religiously, in every way, you are caught and held. Therefore a man who wishes to solve this problem of sex must disentangle himself from the thoughts of his own making; and when he is in that state of freedom, there is creativeness which is understanding of the heart. When one loves, there is chastity; it is the lack of love that is unchaste, and without love no human problem can be solved. But instead of understanding the hindrances that prevent love, we merely try to sublimate, suppress. or find a substitute for the sexual appetite; and substitution, sublimation or suppression is called the attainment of reality. On the contrary, where there is suppression, there is no comprehension; where there is substitution, there is ignor- ance. Our difficulty is that we are caught in this habit of withholding suppressing, sublimating. Surely, one has to look at this habit, to be aware of its full significance, not just for one or two moments, but all through life. One has to see how one is caught in the machine of routine; and to break away from that needs understanding, self- knowledge. Therefore, it is important to understand oneself; but that understanding becomes extremely difficult if there is no intention to study and to understand oneself. The problem of sex, which is now so important, so vast in our lives, loses its meaning when there is the tenderness, the warmth, the kindliness, the mercy of love. Question: Are you sure that it is not the myth of world teachership that keeps you going? To put it differently, are you not loyal to your past? Is there not a desire in you to fulfil the many expectations put in you? Are they not a hindrance to you? How can you go on unless you destroy the myth? Krishnamurti: The myth gives life, a spurious life, a life of impotence. The myth becomes necessary when there is no understanding of truth every minute. Most people's lives are guided by myths, which means that they believe in something, and the belief is a myth. Either they believe themselves to be the World Teacher, or they follow an ideal, or they have a message for the world, or they believe in God, or they hold to the left formula for the government of the world, or to the right. Most people are caught in a myth, and if the myth is taken away, their life is empty. Sirs, if all your beliefs, all your titles, all your possessions, all your memories are removed, what are you? You are empty, are you not? Therefore your possessions, your ideas, your beliefs are myths which you must hold to, or you are lost. Now, the questioner wants to know if it is not the myth of world teacher-ship that keeps me going. I am really not interested in whether I am or I am not; I am not particularly concerned, because I am interested to find out what is, and to see the truth of what is from moment to moment. Truth is not a continuity. That which continues has an end, that which continues knows death. But that which is from moment to moment is eternal, it is timeless, and to be aware of that which is true from moment to moment is to be in the state of eternity. To know the eternal there must be the moment-to moment life, not the continuous life; for that which continues has an end, it knows death, whereas that which is living from moment to moment, without the residue of yesterday, is timeless -and that is not a myth. That state can be only when one is not loyal to the past, because it is the past, yesterday, , that corrupts, destroys and prevents the present, which is now, today, Yesterday uses today as a passage to tomorrow, so the past molds the present and projects the future; and that process, that continuity of mind knows death, and such a mind can never discover reality. So, it is neither the myth, nor loyalty to the past, nor the desire to fulfil those expectations that have been placed in me,that makes me go on. On the contrary, they are all a hindrance. The expectations, the past and loyalty to the past, the attachment to a label - they are a perverting influence, they give a fictitious life. That is why those people who believe in a myth are very active and enthusiastic. Don't you know people who believe in myths How they work, work, work; and the moment they don't work, they come to an end. Sir, the man who works making money, that is his myth. Just watch him when he retires at the age of 50 or 60 - he declines very rapidly because his myth is taken away. Similarly with the political leader; remove his myth and you will see how soon he sinks, he disintegrates. It is the same with the man who believes in something. Doubt, question, condemn, remove his belief, and he is done for. Therefore, belief, loyalty or adherence to the past, or living up to an expectation, is a hindrance. So, you want to know why I keep going? Obviously,Sir, I feel I have something to say. And also there is the natural affection for something, the love of truth. When one loves, one keeps going; and love is not a myth. You can build a myth about love, but to the man who knows love, love is not a myth. He may be alone in a room, or sitting on a platform, or digging in the garden - to him, it is the same, because his heart is full. It is like having a well in your garden that is always filled with fresh waters, the waters that quench the thirst, the waters that purify, the waters that put away corruption; and when there is such love, it is not mere mechanical routine to go from meeting to meeting, from discussion to discussion, from interview to interview. That would be a bore, and I could not do it. To do something which becomes a routine thing would be to destroy oneself. Sirs, when you love, when your heart is full, you will know what it is to strive without effort, to live without conflict. It is the mind that does not love that is taken up with flattery, that enjoys adulation and avoids insult, that needs a crowd, a platform, that needs confusion; but such a mind, such a heart, will not know love. The man whose heart is filled with the things of the mind, his world is a world of myth, and on myths he lives; but he who is free of myths, knows love. August 8, 1948 BANGALORE 7TH PUBLIC TALK 15TH AUGUST, 1948 I think by understanding relationship we shall understand what we mean by independence. Life is a process of constant movement in relationship, and without understanding relationship we shall bring about confusion and struggle and fruitless effort. So, it is important to understand what we mean by relationship; because, out of relationship society is built, and there can be no isolation. There is no such thing as living in isolation. That which is isolated soon dies. So, our problem is not what is independence, but what we mean by relationship. In understanding relationship, which is the conduct between human beings whether intimate or foreign, whether close or far away, we shall begin to understand the whole process of existence and the conflict between bondage and independence. So, we must very carefully examine what we mean by relationship. Is not relationship at present a process of isolation, and therefore a constant conflict? The relationship between you and another, between you and your wife, between you and society, is the product of this isolation. By isolation I mean that we are all the time seeking security, gratification and power. After all, each one of us in our relationship with another is seeking gratification; and where there is search for comfort, for security, whether it be a nation or an individual, there must be isolation, and that which is in isolation invites conflict. Any thing that resists is bound to produce conflict between itself and that which it is resisting; and since most of our relationship is a form of resistance we create a society which inevitably breeds isolation and hence conflict within and without that isolation. So, we must examine relationship as it actually works in our lives. After all, what I am - my actions, my thoughts, my feelings, my motives, my intentions - brings about that relationship between myself and another which we call society. There is no society without this relationship between two people; and before we can talk about independence, wave the flag, and all the rest of it, we have to understand relationship, which means we must examine ourselves in our relationship with another. Now, if we examine our life, our relationship with another, we will see that it is a process of isolation. We are really not concerned with another; though we talk a great deal about it, actually we are not concerned. We are related to someone only as long as that relationship gratifies us, as long as it gives us a refuge, as long as it satisfies us. But the moment there is a disturbance in the relationship which produces discomfort in ourselves, we discard that relationship. In other words, there is relationship only as long as we are gratified. This may sound harsh, but if you really examine your life very closely, you will see it is a fact; and to avoid a fact is to live in ignorance, which can never produce right relationship. So, if we look into our lives and observe relationship, we see it is a process of building resistance against another, a wall over which we look and observe the other; but we always retain the wall and remain behind it, whether it be a psychological wall, a material wall, an economic wall, or a national wall. As long as we live in isolation, behind a wall, there is no relationship with another; and we live enclosed because it is much more gratifying, we think it is much more secure. The world is so disruptive, there is so much sorrow, so much pain, war, destruction, misery, that we want to escape and live within the walls of security of our own psychological being. So, relationship with most of us is actually a process of isolation, and obviously such relationship builds a society which is also isolating. That is exactly what is happening throughout the world: You remain in your isolation and stretch your hand over the wall, calling it nationalism, brotherhood or what you will; but actual, sovereign governments, armies, continue. That is, clinging to your own limitations, you think you can create world unity, world peace - which is impossible. As long as you have a frontier, whether national, economic, religious, or social, it is an obvious fact that there cannot be peace in the world. Now, the process of isolation is a process of the search for power; and whether one is seeking power individually or for a racial or national group, there must be isolation, because the very desire for power, for position, is separatism. After all, that is what each one wants, is it not? He wants a powerful position in which he can dominate, whether at home, in the office, or in a bureaucratic regime. Each one is seeking power, and in seeking power he will establish a society which is based on power, military, industrial, economic, and so on - which again is obvi- ous. Is not the desire for power in its very nature isolating? I think it is very important to understand this; because, the man who wants a peaceful world, a world in which there are no wars, no appalling destruction, no catastrophic misery, on an immeasurable scale, must understand this fundamental question, must he not? As long as the individual seeks power, however much or however little, whether as a prime minister, as a governor, a lawyer, or merely as a husband or a wife in the home, that is, as long as you desire the sense of domination, the sense of compulsion, the sense of building power, influence, surely you are bound to create a society which is the result of an isolating process; because, power in its very nature is isolating, is separating. A man who is affectionate, who is kindly, has no sense of power, and therefore such a man is not bound to any nationality, to any flag. He has no flag. But the man who is seeking power in any form, whether derived from bureaucracy or from the self-projection which he calls God, is still caught in an isolating process. If you examine it very carefully, you will see that the desire for power in its very nature is a process of enclosure. Each one is seeking his own position, his own security, and as long as that motive exists, society must be built on an isolating process. Where there is the search for power, there is a process of isolation, and that which is isolated is bound to create conflict. That is exactly what is happening throughout the world: each group is seeking power and thereby isolating itself, and this is the process of nationalism, of patriotism, ultimately leading to war and destruction. Now, without relationship, there is no possibility of existence in life; and as long as relationship is based on power, on domination, there must be the process of isolation, which inevitably invites conflict. There is no such thing as living in isolation - no country, no people, no individual, can live in isolation; yet because you are seeking power in so many different ways, you breed isolation. The nationalist is a curse because through his very nationalistic, patriotic spirit, he is creating a wall of isolation. He is so identified with his country that he builds a wall against another. And what happens, Sirs, when you build a wall against something? That something is constantly beating against your wall. When you resist something, the very resistance indicates that you are in conflict with the other. So nationalism. which is a process of isolation, which is the outcome of the search for power, cannot bring about peace in the world. The man who is a nationalist and talks of brotherhood is telling a lie, he is living in a state of contradiction. So, peace in the world is essential, otherwise we will be destroyed; a few may escape, but there will be greater destruction than ever before unless we solve the problem of peace. Peace is not an ideal; an ideal, as we discussed, is fictitious. What is actual must be understood, and that understanding of the actual is prevented by the fiction which we call an ideal. The actual is that each one is seeking power, titles, positions of authority, and so on - all of which is covered up in various forms by well meaning words. This is a vital problem, it is not a theoretical problem nor one that can be postponed - it demands action now, because the catastrophe is obviously coming. If it does not come tomorrow, it will come next year, or soon after, because the momentum of the isolating process is already here; and he who really thinks about it must tackle the root of the problem, which is the indivi- dual's search for power, creating the power-seeking group, race, and nation. Now, can one live in the world without the desire for power, for position, for authority? Obviously one can. One does it when one does not identify oneself with something greater. This identification with something greater - the party, the country, the race, the religion, God - is the search for power. Because you in yourself are empty, dull, weak, you like to identify yourself with something greater. That desire to identify yourself with something greater is the desire for power. That is why nationalism, or any communal spirit, is such a curse in the world; it is still the desire for power. So, the important thing in understanding life, and therefore relationship, is to discover the motive that is driving each one of us; because what that motive is, the environment is. That motive brings either peace or destruction in the world. And so it is very important for each one of us to be aware that the world is in a state of misery and destruction, and to realize that if we are seeking power, consciously or unconsciously, we are contributing to that destruction, and therefore our relationship with society will be a constant process of conflict. There are multiple forms of power, it is not merely the acquisition of position and wealth. The very desire to be something is a form of power, which brings isolation and therefore conflict; and unless each one understands the motive, the intention of his actions, mere government legislation is of very little importance, because the inner is always overcoming the outer. You may outwardly build a peaceful structure but the men who run it will alter it according to their intention. That is why it is very important, for those who wish to create a new culture, a new society, a new state, first to understand themselves. In becoming aware of oneself. of the various inward movements and fluctuations, one will understand the motives, the intentions, the perils that are hidden; and only in that awareness is there transformation. Regeneration can come about only when there;s cessation of this search for power; and then only can we create a new culture, a society which will not be based on conflict, but on understanding. Relationship is a process of self revelation, and without knowing oneself, the ways of one's own mind and heart, merely to establish an outward order, a system , a cunning formula, has very little meaning. So, what is important is to understand oneself in relationship with another. Then relationship becomes, not a process of isolation, but a movement in which you discover your own motives, your own thoughts, your own pursuits; and that very discovery is the beginning of liberation, the beginning of transformation. It is only this immediate transformation that can bring about the fundamental, radical revolution in the world which is so essential. Revolution within the walls of isolation is not a revolution. Revolution comes only when the walls of isolation are destroyed, and that can take place only when you are no longer seeking power. I have several questions, and I will try to answer as many of them as possible. Question: Can I remain a government official if I want to follow your teachings? The same question would arise with regard to so many professions. What is the right solution to the problem of livelihood? Krishnamurti: Sirs, what do we mean by livelihood? It is the earning of one's needs, food clothing and shelter, is it not? The difficulty of livelihood arises only when we use the essentials of life - food, clothing and shelter - as a means of psychological aggression. That is, when se the needs, the necessities, as a means of self-aggrandizement, then the problem of livelihood arises and our society is essentially based, not on supplying the essentials, but on psychological aggrandizement, using the essentials as a psychological expansion of oneself. Sirs, you have to think it out a little bit. Obviously, food, clothing and shelter could be produced abundantly, there is enough scientific knowledge to supply the demand; but the demand for war is greater, not merely by the warmongers, but by each one of us, because each one of us is violent. There is sufficient scientific knowledge to give man all the necessities; it has been worked out, and they could be produced so that no man would be in need. Why does it not happen? Because no one is satisfied with food, clothing and shelter, each one wants something more; and, put in different words, the "more" is power. But it would be brutish merely to be satisfied with needs. We will be satisfied with needs in the true sense, which is freedom from the desire for power, only when we have found the inner treasure which is imperishable. which you call God, truth, or what you will. if you can find those imperishable riches within yourself, then you are satisfied with few things, which few things can be supplied. But, unfortunately, we are carried away by sensate values. The values of the senses have become more important than the values of the real. After all, our whole social structure, our present civilization, is essentially based on sensate values. Sensate values are not merely the values of the senses, but the values of thought, because thought is also the result of the senses; and when the mechanism of thought, which is the intellect, is cultivated, then there is in us a predominance of thought, which is also a sensory value. So, as long as we are seeking sensate value, whether of touch, of taste, of smell, of perception, or of thought, the outer becomes far more significant than the inner; and the mere denial of the outer is not the way to the inner. You may deny the outer and withdraw from the world into a jungle or a cave and there think of God; but that very denial of the outer, that thinking of God, is still sensate, because thought is sensate; and any value based on the sensate is bound to create confusion - which is what is happening in the world at the present time. The sensate is dominant, and as long as the social structure is built on that, the means of livelihood becomes extraordinarily difficult. So, what is the right means of livelihood? This question can be answered only when there is a complete revolution in the present social structure, not according to the formula of the right or of the left, but a complete revolution in values which are not based on the sensate. Now, those who have leisure, like the older people who are drawing their pensions, who have spent their earlier years seeking God or else various forms of destruction, if they really gave their time, their energy, to finding out the right solution, then they would act as a medium, as an instrument for bringing about revolution in the world. But they are not interested. They want security. They have worked so many years for their pensions, and they would like to live comfortably for the rest of their lives. They have time, but they are indifferent; they are only concerned with some abstraction which they call God, and which has no reference to the actual; but their abstraction is not God, it is a form of escape. And those who fill their lives with ceaseless activity are caught in the middle, they have not the time to find the answers to the various problems of life. So, those who are concerned with these things, with bringing about a radical transformation in the world through the understanding of themselves, in them alone is there hope. Sirs, surely we can see what is a wrong profession. To be a soldier, a policeman, a lawyer, is obviously a wrong profession, because they thrive on conflict, on dissension; and the big business man, the capitalist, thrives on exploitation. The big business man may be an individual, or it may be the State; if the State takes over big business it does not cease to exploit you and me. And as society is based on the army, the police, the law, the big business man, that is, on the principle of dissension, exploitation and violence, how can you and I, who want a decent, right profession, survive? There is increasing unemployment, greater armies, larger police forces with their secret service, and big business is becoming bigger and bigger, forming vast corporations which are eventually taken over by the State; for the State has become a great corporation in certain countries. Given this situation of exploitation, of a society built on dissension, how are you going to find a right livelihood? It is almost impossible, is it not? Either you will have to go away and form with a few people a community, a self-supporting, cooperative community - or merely succumb to the vast machine. But you see, most of us are not interested in really finding the right livelihood. Most of us are concerned with getting a job and sticking to it in the hope of advancement with more and more pay. Because each one of us wants safety, security, a permanent position, there is no radical revolution. It is not those who are self-satisfied, contented, but only the adventurous, those who want to experiment with their lives, with their existence, who discover the real things, a new way of living. So, before there can be a right livelihood, the obviously false means of earning a livelihood must first be seen; the army, the law, the police, the big business corporations that are sucking people in and exploiting them, whether in the name of the State, of capital, or of religion. When you see the false and eradicate the false, there is transformation, there is revolution; and it is that revolution alone that can create a new society. To seek, as an individual, a right livelihood, is good, is excellent, but that does not solve the vast problem. The vast problem is solved only when you and I are not seeking security. There is no such thing as security. When you seek security, what happens? What is happening in the world at the present tine? All Europe wants security, is crying for it, and what is happening? They want security through their nationalism. After all, you are a nationalist because you want security, and you think that through nationalism you are going to have security. It has been proved over and over again that you cannot have security through nationalism, because nationalism is a process of isolation, inviting wars, misery and destruction. So, right livelihood on a vast scale must begin with those who understand what is false. When you are battling against the false. then you are creating the right means of liveli- hood. When you are battling against the whole structure of dissension, of exploitation whether by the left or by the right, or the authority of religion and the priests, that is the right profession at the present time; because, that will create a new society, a new culture. But to battle, you must see very clearly and very definitely that which is false, so that the false drops away. To discover what is false, you must be aware of it, you must observe everything that you are doing, thinking and feeling; and out of that you will not only discover what is false, but out of that there will come a new vitality, a new energy, and that energy will dictate what kind of work to do or not to do. Question: Can you state briefly the basic principles on which a new society should be built? Krishnamurti: I can state the principles, that is very simple; but it would be of no value. What has value is that you and I should discover together the basic principles on which a new society can be built; because, the moment we discover together what are the basic principles, there is a new basis of relationship between us. Do you understand? Then I am no longer the teacher and you the pupil, or you the audience and I the lecturer - we start on a different footing altogether. That means no authority, does it not? We are partners in discovering, and therefore we are in cooperation; therefore, you do not dominate or influence me, nor I you. We are both discovering; and when there is the intention on your part as well as on mine to discover what are the basic principles of a new culture, obviously there cannot be an authoritative spirit, can there? Therefore, we have established, a new principle already, have we not? As long as there is authority in relationship, there is compulsion; and nothing can be created through compulsion. A government that compels, a teacher that compels, an environment that compels, does not bring about relationship, but merely a state of slavery. So, we have discovered one thing together, for we know that we both want to create a new society in which there can be no authority; and that has an enormous significance, because the structure of our present social order is based on authority. The specialist in education, the specialist in medicine, the military specialist, the specialist in law, the bureaucrat - they all dominate us. The Shastras say so, therefore it must be true; my guru says so, therefore it must be right and I am going to follow it. In other words, in a society where there is the search for the real, the search for understanding, the search for the establishment of right relationship between two human beings, there can be no authority. The moment you discard authority, you are in partnership; therefore there is cooperation, there is affection - which is contrary to the present social structure. At present, you leave your children to the educator, while the educator himself needs educating. Religiously, you are merely imitative, copying machines. In every direction you are dominated, influenced, compelled, forced; and how can there be a relationship between the exploiter and the exploited, between those who are in power and those who are subject to power - unless you yourself want the same kind of power? If you do, then you are in relationship with that power. But if you see that any desire for power is in itself destructive, then there is no relationship with those who seek power. So, we begin to discover the basic principles upon which a new society can be built. Obviously, relationship based on domination is no longer a relationship. When there is no domination, no authority, no compulsion, what does it mean? Obviously, there is affection, there is tenderness, there is love, there is understanding. For that to take place, domination must disappear. But we can discuss this presently, if you will listen to me. You seem irritated - perhaps I am upsetting your apple cart a little bit; but you will go out and do exactly the same thing that you did before, because you are not really concerned with the finding of a new basic order. You want to be secure, you want your positions, or such positions as you have, and you want to use them for your own purpose, which you call noble; but it is still a form of self-expansion, exploitation. So, our difficulty in these discussions and talks is that we are not very serious about all this. We would like things to be altered, but slowly, gradually, and at our convenience. W"don't want to be disturbed too much, so we are not really basically concerned with a new culture. The man who is concerned sees as false the obviously pernicious things such as authority, belief, nationalism, the whole hierarchical spirit. When all that is put aside, what happens? You are merely a citizen, a human being without authority; and when you have no authority, then perhaps you will have love, and therefore, you will have understanding. That is what is required: a group of people who understand, who have affection, whose hearts are not filled with empty words and empty phrases, the things of the mind. It is they who will create a new culture, not the spinner of words. Therefore, it is very important for each one of us to see himself in the mirror of relationship, for out of that alone can there be a new culture. Question: What must we do to have really good government, and not merely self-government? Krishnamurti: Sirs, to have a good government, you must first understand what you mean by government. Don't let us use words without a referent, words without meaning. without something behind them. The word "watch" has a referent, but "good government" has no referent, To find the referent, we will have to discuss what we mean by "government" and what we mean by "good", but merely to say what is good government has no meaning. So, first, let us find out what we mean by "good". I am not splitting hairs, I am not being school-boyish discussing at a union; because, it is very important to find out what we are talking about, and not merely use words that have little meaning. I know we are fed on words; it creates an impression for, us to talk of having self-government and wave the flag - you know the whole business of being enchanted with words when our hearts and minds are empty. So, let us find out what we mean by "good government". What do we mean by "good"? "Good" obviously has a referent based on pleasure and pain. "Good" is that which gives you pleasure, "bad" that which gives you pain, whether outwardly or inwardly, whether inside or outside the skin. That is a fact, is it not? We are discussing the fact, not what you would like it to be. The fact is, as long as you seek pleasure in various forms - as security, as comfort, as power, as money - , that plea- sure is what you call "good", and anything that disturbs the state of pleasure, you call "not good". I am not discussing philosophically. but actually. Pleasure is what you want, so obviously you call "good" that which gives you security, comfort, position, power, safety. Do you follow? That is, "good government, is that body which can supply what you want; and if the government does not give you what you want, you say, "Throw it out" - unless it is a totalitarian government. Even totalitarian governments can be destroyed if the people say, "We don't want this". But nowadays it is almost impossible to bring about physical revolution, because the airplanes and other war machines without which there cannot be modern revolution are in the hands of the government. So, the "good" is what you want, is it not? Sirs, don't let us fool ourselves and spin a lot of words about abstract "good" and abstract "evil". Actually, in your daily life, the fact is that those who give you what you want, you call "good", "noble", "efficient", and so on, using various terms. What you want is gratification in different forms, and that which can give it to you, you call beneficent. So, the government is the body which you create out of your want, is it not? That is, the government is you. What you are, the government is, which is an obvious facE in the world. You hate a particular country, and elect those people who will support your hate. You are communalistically inclined and you create a government that has your communalistic outlook - which is again an obvious fact, we need not elaborate it. Since what you are, your government is, how can you have "good" government? You can have good government only when you have transformed yourselves. Otherwise, the government is merely a bureau, a group of people whom you have elected to supply you with what you want. You say you don't want war, but you encourage all the causes that breed war, like nationalism, communalism, and so on. That being your condition, you create a government, as you create a society, after your own likeness; and having created that government, the government in turn exploits you. So, it is a vicious circle. There can be good - I won't call it "good" - there can be sane government only when you yourself are sane. Sirs, don't smile. It is a fact; we are insane, we are not rational, clean human beings. We are unbalanced, therefore our governments are unbalanced. Do you mean to say, Sirs, that, seeing the whole world caught up in the appalling catastrophe of war and the production of war machines, a sane human being does not want to break it up? Therefore, he will find out what are the causes of war, and not say, "Well, it is my country, I must protect it" - which is too immature and silly. Now, one of the causes of war is greed - greed to be something greater - which causes you to identify yourself with the country. You say, "I am a Hindu", "I am a Buddhist", "I am a Christian", "I am a Russian", or what you will. That is one of the causes of war. And a man who is sane says, "I am going to get rid of that insane imitation which ultimately produces destruction". Therefore, We must first create sanity, not a plan for a new government, or a so-called "good" government; and in order to be sane, you must know what you are, you must be aware of yourself. But again, you see, you are not interested. You are interested in waving flags, you are interested in listening to speeches which have no meaning, you are interested stimulation. All these are indi- cations of insanity. And how can you expect a sane government when the citizens are not fully awake when they are half-alert and unbalanced? Sirs, when you yourselves are in confusion, you create the leader who is confused, and you will hear the voice of him who is confused. If you are not confused, if you are clear, tranquil, you will have no leader; if you are clear, you will not wait for the government to tell you what to do. Why does a man want a government? Sirs, some of you smile, and you will push it out. Because you don't know how to love rationally, humanly, you want somebody to tell you what to do; therefore there is the multiplication of laws, laws, and more laws, what you must and must not do. So, it is your fault, Sirs. You are responsible for the government that you have, or are going to have; because, unless you radically transform yourselves, what you are, your government is. If you are communalistically-minded, you will create a government that is like you. And what does it mean? More disturbance, more destruction. So, there can be a sane society, a sane world, only when you, as part of that society, that world, are breaking away, that is, becoming sane; and there can be sanity only when you spurn authority, when you are not caught in the nationalistic, patriotic spirit, when you treat human beings as human beings, not as brahmins, or as of any other caste or country. And it is impossible to treat human beings as human beings if you label them, if you term them, if you give them a name as Hindus, Russians, or what you will. It is so much easier to label people, for than you can pass by and kick them, drop a bomb on India or Japan. But if you have no labels, but merely meet people as human beings, then what happens? You have to be very alert, you have to be very wise in your relationship with another. But as you don't want to do that, you create a government befitting yourself. Question: What is eternal love or death? What happens to love when death breaks its thread? What happens to death when love asserts its claim? Krishnamurti: Now again, let us find out what we mean by death and what we mean by love. Sorry, some of you get bored with all this. Are you bored? Audience: No, Sir. Krishnamurti: I am surprised, because we have taken up very serious things. Life is serious, life is very earnest. It is only the empty headed and the dull at heart who are trivial, and if you are bored with the serious things of life, it indicates your own immaturity. This is a question with which everyone is concerned, whether it be the totalitarian, the politician, or you; because, death awaits each one of us, whether we like it or not. You may be a high government official, with titles, wealth, position, and a red carpet; but there is this inevitable thing at the end of it. So, what do we mean by death? By death we obviously mean putting an end to continuity, do we not? There is a physical death, and we are a little bit anxious about it; but that does not matter if we can overcome it by continuing in some mother form. So when we ask about death, we are concerned with whether there is continuity or not. And what is the thing that conti- nues? Obviously, not your body because every day we see that people who die are burnt or buried. Therefore, we mean, do we not? a super sensory continuity, a psychological continuity, a thought continuity, a continuity of character, which is termed the soul, or what you will. We want to know if thought continues. That is, I have meditated, I have practiced so many things, I have not finished writing my book, I have not completed my career, I am weak and need time to grow strong, I want to continue my pleasure, and so on; and I am afraid that death will put an end to all that. So, death is a form of frustration, is it not? I am doing something, and I don't want to end it; I want continuity in order to fulfil myself. Now, is there fulfilment through continuity? Obviously, there is fulfilment of a sort through continuity. If I am writing a book, I don't want to die till I have finished it; I want time to develop a certain character, and so on. So, there is fear of death only when there is the desire to fulfil oneself; because to fulfil oneself, there must be time, longevity, continuity. But if you can fulfil yourself from moment to moment, you are not afraid of death. Now, our problem is how to have continuity in spite of death, is it not? And you want an assurance from me; or, if I don't assure you of that, you go to somebody else, to your gurus, to your books, or to various other forms of distraction and escape. So, you listening to me and I talking to you, we are going to find out together what we actually mean by continuity, what it is that continues, and what we want to continue. That which continues is obviously a wish, a desire, is it not? I am not powerful, but I would like to be; I have not built my house, but I would like to build it; I have not got that title, but I would like to get it; I have not amassed enough money but I will do so presently; I would like to find God in this life - and so on and on. So, continuity is the process of want. When this is put an end to, you call it death, do you not? You want to continue desire as a means of achievement, as a process through which to fulfil yourself. Surely, this is fairly simple, is it not? Now, obviously thought continues in spite of your physical death. This has been proved. Thought is a continuity; because, after all, what are you? You are merely a thought, are you not? You are the thought of a name, the thought of a position, the thought of money; you are merely an idea. Remove the idea, remove the thought, and where are you? So, you are an embodiment of thought as the "me". Now, you say thought must continue because thought is going to enable me to fulfil myself, that thought will ultimately find the real. Is that not so? That is why you want thought to continue. You want thought to continue because you think thought is going to find the real, which you call happiness, God, or what you will. Now, through the continuity of thought, do you find the real? To put it differently, does the thought process discover the real? Do you understand what I mean? I want happiness, and I search for it through various means - property, position, wealth, women, men, or whatever it be. All that is the demand of a thought for happiness, is it not? Now, can thought find happiness? If it can, then thought must have a continuity. But what is thought? Thought is merely the response of memory, is it not? If you had no memory, there would be no thought. You would be in a state of amnesia, of complete blankness - as most peo- ple want to be. Thinking mesmerize itself and remains in a certain state which is a state of blankness. But we are not trying to discuss the state of amnesia, we want to find out what thought is. Thought, if you will look at it a little closely, is obviously the response of memory; and memory is the result of an uncompleted experience. So, through an incomplete experience you think you are going to find the complete, the whole, the real. How can it be done? Do you follow what I mean? Sirs, probably you are not thinking this out. You want to know if there is or if there is not continuity, that is all; you want an assurance. When you are seeking an assurance, you are seeking authority, gratification - you don't want to know the real. It is only the real that will liberate, not an assurance, or my giving you that assurance. We are trying to find out what is true in all this. Since thought is the outcome of an incomplete experience -because you don't remember, in the psychological sense, a complete experience - , how can thought, through its own conditioned, incomplete state, find that which is complete. Do you follow? So, our question is, can there be a renewal, a regeneration, a freshness, a newness, through the continuity of the thought process? After all, if there is renewal, then we are not afraid of death. If for you there is renewal from moment to moment, there is no death. But there is death, and the fear of death, if you demand a continuity of the thought process. It is only thought that can continue, obviously, an idea about yourself. That idea is the outcome of thought, the outcome of a conditioned mind; because thought is the outcome of the past, it is founded on the past. And through time, through continuing the past, will you find the timeless? So, we look to continuity as a means of renewal,as a means of bringing about a new state. Otherwise we don't want continuity, do we? That is, I want continuity only if it promises the new state; otherwise I don't want it, because my present state is miserable. If through continuity I can find happiness, then I want continuity. But can I find happiness through continuity? There is only the continuity of thought, thought being the response of memory; and memory is always conditioned, always in the past. Memory is always dead, it comes to life only through the present. Therefore, thought as a continuity cannot be the means of renewal. So, to continue thought is merely to continue the past in a modified form, and therefore it is not a renewal; therefore, through that passage there is no hope. There is hope only when I see the truth that through continuity there is no renewal. And when I see that, what happens? Then I am only concerned with the ending of the thought process from moment to moment - which is not insanity! The thought process ceases only when I understand the falseness of the thought process as a means of achieving a desirable end, or of avoiding a painful one. When I see the false as the false, the false drops away. When the false drops away, what then is the state of the mind? Then the mind is in a state of high sensitivity, of high receptivity, of great tranquillity, because there is no fear. What happens when there is no fear? There is love, is there not? It is only in the negative state that love can be, not in the positive state. The positive state is the continuity of thought towards an end, and as long as that exists, there cannot be love. The questioner also wants to know what happens to love when death breaks its thread. Love is not a con- tinuity. If you watch yourself, if you observe your own love, you will see that love is from moment to moment, you are not thinking that it must continue. That which continues is a hindrance to love. It is only thought that can continue, not love. You can think about love, and that thought can continue; but the thought about love is not love -and that is your difficulty. You think about love, and you want that thought to continue; therefore you ask, "What happens to love when death comes"? But you are not concerned with love; you are concerned with the thought of love, which is not love. When you love, there id no continuity. It is only the thought that wishes love to continue, but the thought is not love. Sirs, this is very important. When you love, when you really love somebody, you are not thinking, you are not calculating - your whole heart, your whole being is open. But when you merely think about love, or about the person whom you love, your heart is dry - and therefore you are already dead. When there is love, there is no fear of death. Fear of death is merely the fear of not continuing, and when there is love there is no sense of continuity. It is a state of being. The questioner also asks, "What happens to death when love asserts its claim? "Sirs, love has no claim - and that is the beauty of love. That which is the highest state of negation does not claim, does not demand: it is a state of being. And when there is love, there is no death; there is death only when the thought process arises. When there is love, there is no death, because there is no fear; and love is not a continuous state - which is again the thought process. Love is merely being from moment to moment. Therefore, love is its own eternity. August 15, 1948 NEW DELHI INDIA 3RD PUBLIC TALK 19TH DECEMBER, 1948 As this is the last talk, perhaps it might be just as well if I made a brief summary of what we have been discussing for the last six weeks. Our life is beset with so many problems at different levels. We have not only the physical problems, but the much more subtle and more intricate psychological problems; and without solving the psychological problems or even trying to understand their subtleness, we seek merely to rearrange their effects. We try to reconcile the effects without really understanding the causes which produce these effects. Therefore, it seems to me much more important to understand the psychological conflicts and sorrows than merely to rearrange the pattern of effects; because, the mere reconciliation of effects cannot profoundly and ultimately solve the problems that are produced. If we merely rearrange the effects without understanding the psychological struggles that produce these effects, we will naturally produce further confusion, further antagonism, further conflict. So, in understanding the psychological factors that bring about our well-being, there may be a possibility - and I think there is a definite possibility - of creating a new culture and a new civilization; but it must begin with every one of us, because, after all, society is my relationship with you, and your relationship with another. Society is the outcome of our relationship, and without under standing relationship, which is action, there can be no cessation of conflict. So, relationship and its effect and cause must be thoroughly understood before I can transform or bring about a radical revolution in the ways of my life. We are concerned, then, with the individual problem and our own psychological sufferings. In understanding the individual problem we will naturally bring about a different arrangement in its effects, but we should not begin with the effects; because, after all, we do not live by the effects alone but by the deeper causes. So, our problem is how to understand suffering and conflict in the individual. Mere verbal explanation of suffering, mere intellection, the perception of the causes of suffering, does not resolve suffering. That is an obvious fact; but as most of us are fed on words, and as words have become of such immense importance, we are easily satisfied by explanations. We read the Bhagavad Gita, the Bible, or any other religious book which explains the cause of suffering, and we are satisfied; we take the explanation for the resolution of suffering. Words have become much more significant than the understanding of suffering itself; but the word is not the thing. Any amount of explanation, any amount of reasoning, will not feed a hungry man. What he wants is food, not the explanation of food, or the smell of food. He is hungry, and he must have the substance that nourishes. Most of us are satisfied by the explanation of the cause of suffering. Therefore, we don't take suffering as a thing to be radically resolved, a contradiction in ourselves that must be understood. How is one to understand suffering? One can understand suffering only when explanation subsides and all kinds of escapes are understood and put aside, that is, when one sees the actual in suffering. But you see, you don't want to understand suffering; you run away to the club, you read the newspaper, you do puja, go to the temple, plunge into politics or social service - anything rather than to face that which is. So, the cultivation of escapes has become much more important than the understanding of sorrow; and it requires a very intelligent mind, a mind that is very alert, to see that it is escaping and to put an end to escapes. How, I have explained that conflict is not productive of creative thinking. To be creative, to produce what you will, the mind must be at peace, the heart full. If you want to write, to have great thoughts, to enquire into truth, conflict must cease; but in our civilization, escapes have become much more significant than the understanding of conflict. Modern things help us to escape, and to escape is to be utterly uncreative, it is self-projection. That does not solve our problem. What does solve our problem is to cease to escape and to live with suffering; because, after all, to understand something, one must give full attention to it, and distractions are mere escapes. To understand escapes, which is to put an end to them by seeing their falseness, and to perceive the whole significance of suffering, is a process of self-knowledge; and without self-knowledge, without knowing yourself fundamentally, not the mere superficial effects of your actions, but the whole total process of yourself, both the thinker and the thought, the actor and the action - without that self-knowledge, there is no basis for thought. You can repeat like a gramophone, but you will not be the music-maker, there will be no song in your heart. So, through self-knowledge alone an suffering come to an end. After all, what does suffering mean - not as a verbal explanation, but as a fact? How does suffering arise, not merely as a scientific observation, but actually? In order to know, to find out, surely discontent is essential. One must be thoroughly discontented in order to find out. But when there is discontent - and most of us are discontented - we find an easy way of smothering that discontent. We become something - clerks, governors, ministers, or what you will - , anything to smother that flame, that spark, that dissatisfaction. Materially as well as psychologically we want to be sure, we want to be secure, we do not want to be disturbed. We want certainty, and where the mind is looking for certainty, security, there is no discontent; and most of us spend our lives doing this, we are all seeking security. Obviously there must be physical security, food, clothing and shelter; but that is denied when we seek psychological security - psychological security being self-expansion through physical necessities. A house in itself is not important except as shelter, but we use the house as a means of self-aggrandizement. That is why property becomes very important, and hence we create a social system which denies the right distribution of food, clothing and shelter. So, it is discontent that drives, that creates, that urges us on; and if we can understand discontent without smothering it by the search for certainty, psychological security, if we can keep that discontent and its flame alive, then our problem is simple; because, that very discontent is creative, and from that we can move on. But the moment we smother discontent, put it away, resist it, hide it, then the mind is concerned merely with the reconciliation of effects, and discontent is no longer a means of going forward, plunging into something unknown. That is why it is so important for each one really to understand oneself. The study of oneself is not an end, but a beginning; because, there is no end in understanding oneself, it is a constant movement. If you observe yourself very carefully, you will see that there is no fixed moment when you can say, `I understand the whole totality of myself', it is like reading many volumes. The more one studies oneself, the more there is to be studied. Therefore, the movement of the self is timeless; and that self is not the high or the low, but the self which is from moment to moment, with its actions, its thoughts, its words. That self-knowledge is the beginning of wisdom, and in that self-knowledge one discovers a state of utter tranquillity in which the mind is not made still, but is still; and only when the mind is still, when it is not caught up in the thought process or occupied with its own creations - only then is there creativeness, is there reality. It is this creativeness, this perception of reality which will free us from our problem, not the search for an answer to the problem. So, self-knowledge is the technique of meditation, and without self-knowledge there is no meditation. Self-knowledge is not something acquired from a book, or from a guru or teacher. Self-knowledge begins in understanding oneself from moment to moment, and that understanding requires one's full attention to be given to each thought at any particular moment without an end in view; because, there cannot be complete attention when there is condemnation or justification. When the mind condemns or justifies, it does so either to deny or to escape what it perceives. It is much easier to condemn a child than to understand a child. Similarly, when a thought arises, it is easier to put it away or discipline it than to give it your undivided attention and thereby discover its full significance. Therefore, the problem is to understand oneself, and one can approach it rightly only when there is no justification, condemnation or resistance - and then you will find that the problem unfolds like a map. To discover what is eternal, the process of the mind must be understood. You cannot think about the unknown; you can think only about the known, and what is known is not the real. Reality cannot be thought about, meditated upon, pictured, or formulated; if it is, it is not real, because it is merely the projection of the mind. It is only when the thought process ceases, when the mind is literally and utterly still - and stillness can come about only through self-knowledge - , that reality is understood; and it is the real that resolves our problems, not our cunning distractions and formulated escapes. I have several questions here, and I shall try to answer them as briefly and clearly as possible. Question: I have parents who are orthodox and who depend on me, but I myself have ceased to believe in their orthodoxy. How am I to deal with such a situation? This is a real problem to me. Krishnamurti: Now, why has one ceased to be orthodox? Before you say, `I have ceased to be orthodox', must you not find out why, for what reason? Is it because you see that orthodoxy is mere repetition without much meaning, a framework in which man lives because he is afraid to go beyond and discover? Or, have you abandoned orthodoxy as a mere reaction, because it is the modern thing to do to reject the ancient, the old? Have you rejected the old without understanding it? - which is merely a reaction. If that is the case, it is quite different, it brings about quite a different issue. But if you have ceased to be orthodox because you see that a mind caught in tradition, in habit, is without understanding, then you know the full significance of orthodoxy. I do not know which you have done: Either you have left it in protest; or, you have abandoned it - or rather, it has fallen away from you naturally -because you understand it. Now, if it is the latter, then what is your responsibility to those people around you who are orthodox? Should you yield to their orthodoxy because they are your mother and father, and they cry and give you trouble at home, calling you an undutiful son? Should you yield to them because they create trouble? What is your responsibility? If you yield, then your understanding of orthodoxy has no meaning; then you are placatory, you don't want trouble, you want to let sleeping dogs lie. But surely, you must have trouble, a revolution is essential; not the bloody kind of revolution, but a psychological revolution - which is far more important than mere revolution in outward effects. Most of us are afraid to have a fundamental revolution; we yield to the parents saying, `There is enough trouble as it is in the world, why should I add more?' But surely, that is not the answer, is it? When one has trouble, it must be exposed, opened up and looked into. Merely to accept an attitude, to concede to the parents because they are going to give you trouble, kick you out of the house, does not bring out clarity; it merely hides, suppresses conflict, and a conflict which is suppressed acts as a poison in the system, in the psychological being. If there is tension between you and your parents, this contradiction has to be faced if you want to live creatively, happily; but as most of us do not want to lead a creative life and are satisfied to be dull, we say, `It is all right, I will yield'. After all, relationship with another, especially with a father, mother or child, is a very difficult thing, because relationship with most of us is a matter of gratification. We do not want any trouble in relationship. Surely, a person who is looking for gratification, satisfaction, comfort, security in relationship, ceases to have a relationship that is alive; he makes that relationship into a dead thing. After all, what is relationship? What is the function of relationship? Surely, it is a means by which I discover my- self. Relationship is a process of self-revelation; but if the self-revelation is unpleasant, unsatisfactory, disturbing, we do not want to look any further into it. So, relationship becomes merely a means of communication, and therefore a dead thing. But if relationship is an active process in which there is self-revelation, in which I discover myself as in a mirror, then that relationship not only brings about conflict, disturbance, but out of it comes clarity and joy. The question, then, is: `When you are not orthodox, what is your responsibility to the person who is dependent on you?' Now, the older you grow, the more orthodox you become; that is, because you know you are soon coming to the end of your life and you don't know what awaits you on the other side, you seek safety, security, on both sides. But a man who believes without understanding is obviously stupid; and should you encourage stupidity? Belief creates antagonism, the very nature of belief is to divide: You believe in one thing, I believe in another; you are a communist, I am a capitalist, which is merely a matter of belief; you call yourself a Hindu, I call myself a Musalman - and we slaughter each other. So, belief is obviously a device which sets man against man; and recognizing all these factors, what is your responsibility? Can one advise another as to what to do? You and I can discuss; but it is for you to act, after looking into it. To look into it you must pay attention, and you must face the consequences of your decision, you cannot leave it to me or to anybody else. That means you understand and are quite willing to face trouble, to be thrown out, to be called an ungrateful son, and all the rest of it; it means that for you orthodoxy does not matter, but that truth, which is the understanding of the problem, matters immensely, and therefore you are prepared to face trouble. But most of us do not want the clear happiness that truth brings; want mere gratification, and therefore we concede and say, `All right, I will do what you want me to do; but for God's sake, leave me alone.' That way you will never create a new society, a new culture. Question: It us the universally accepted conclusion of modern intellectuals that educators have failed. What is, then, the task of those whose function it is to teach the young? Krishnamurti: There are several problems involved in this, and to understand them, one must go very carefully into them. First of all, why do you have children? Is it mere accident, an unwanted event? Do you have children to carry on your name, title or estate? Or do you love, and therefore you have children? Which is it? If you have children merely as toys, something to play with, or if you arc lonely and a child helps you to cover up that loneliness - then children become important because they are your own self-projection. But if children are not a mere means of amusement or a result of accidents, if you really love them in the profound sense of that word - and to love somebody means to be in complete communion with them - , then education has quite a different significance. If as a parent you really love your children, you will see that they have the right kind of education. In other words, children must be helped to be intelligent, sensitive, to have a mind and heart that are pliable, able to deal with any situation. Surely, if you really love your child, you as a parent will not be a nationalist, you will not belong to any country, you will not belong to any organized religion; because, obviously, if you are a nationalist, if you worship the State, then you inevitably destroy your son, because you are creating war. If you really love your son, you will find out what is your right relationship with property; because it is the possessive instinct which has given property such enormous significance, and which is destroying the world. Again, if you really love your children, you will not belong to any particular religion, because belief creates antagonism between man and man. It you love your children, you will do all these things. So, that is one aspect. Then the other aspect is that the educator needs educating. What are you educating the children for? To become clerks or glorified clerks, governors, engineers, technicians? Is that all life us, merely a matter of glorified clerks, technicians, mechanics, human beings made into cannon fodder? What us the purpose and intention of education? Is ut to turn cut soldiers, lawyers and policemen? Surely, the occupations of soldier, lawyer, and policeman, are not right professions for decent human beings. (Laughter.) Don't laugh it off. By laughing it off, you are pushing it aside. You can see that these professions do not contribute to the total well-being of man, though they may be necessary in a society that has already become corrupt. Therefore, first of all, you have to find out why it is that you have children, and what it is that you are educating them for. If you are merely educating them to be technicians, naturally you will find the best technician to educate your child, and he will be made into a machine, he will discipline himself to conform to a pattern. Is that all there is to our existence, our struggle and our happiness -merely to become mechanics, tank or airplane experts, scientists, physicists inventing new ways of destruction? Therefore, education is your responsibility, is it not? What is it you want your children to be, or not to be? What is the purpose of existence? If it is merely to adjust to a system, to efface oneself for a party, then it is very simple; then all that you have to do is to conform and fit in. But if life is meant to be lived rightly, fully, joyously, sensitively, then there must be quite a different process of education in which there is the cultivation of sensitivity, of intelligence, and not mere technique - though technique is necessary. So, as a parent - and God knows why you are parents - you have to find out what your responsibility is. Sirs, you love so easily: you say you love, but really you don't love your children. You have no feeling. You accept social events and conditions as inevitable; you don't want to transform them, to create a revolution and bring about a new culture, a new society. Surely, it depends on you what kind of education your children will have. As the questioner says, education throughout the world has failed, it has produced catastrophe after catastrophe, destruction and more destruction, bloodshed, rape and murder. Obviously, education has failed; and if you look to the experts, the specialists, to educate your children, the disaster must continue, because the specialists, being concerned only with the part and not with the whole, are themselves inhuman. Surely, the first thing is to have love; for if there is love, it will find the way to educate the children rightly. But you see, we are all brains and no heart; we have cultivated the intellect, and in ourselves we are so absurdly lopsided - and then the problem arises of what to do with the children. Surely, it is obvious that the educator himself needs educating - and the educator is you; for the home environment is as important as the school environment. So, you have to transform yourself first to give the right environment to the child; for the environment can make him either a brute, an unfeeling technician, or a very sensitive, intelligent human being. The environment is yourself and your action; and unless you transform yourself, the environment, the present society in which we live, must inevitably harm the child, make him rude, rough, unintelligent. Surely, sirs, those who are deeply interested in this problem will begin to transform themselves and thereby transform society, which will in turn bring about a new means of education. But you are really not interested. You will listen to all this and say, `Yes, I agree; but it is too impracticable'. You don't treat it as a direct responsibility; you are not really, fundamentally concerned. If you really loved your son and knew the war was coming, as it inevitably is, do you mean to say yon would not act, you would not find a way of stopping war? You see, we don't love; we use the word `love' but the content of that word has no meaning any more. We just use the word without a referent, without substance, and we live merely on the word; so the complex problem is there still, and we have to face it. And don't say I have not shown you a way out of it. The way is yourself and your relationship with your children, your wife, your society. You are the gleam, you are the hope; otherwise there is no way out of this at all. Look at what is happening. More and more governments are taking charge of education, which means they want to produce efficient beings, either as technicians or for war; and therefore the children must be regimented, they must be told, not how to think, but what to think. They are taught to live on propaganda, slogans. Because those who are in power don't want to be disturbed, they want to keep the power, it has become the function of government to maintain the status quo with little alterations here and there. So, taking all these factors into consideration, you have to find out what is the meaning of existence why you are living, why you are producing children; and you have to find out how to create a new environment - for, what the environment is, your child is. He listens to your talk, he repeats what the older people think and do. So, you have to create a right environment, not only at home, but outside, which is society; and you have to create a new kind of government which is radically different, which is not based on nationalism, on the sovereign State with its armies and efficient ways of murdering people. That implies seeing your responsibility in relationship, and you actually see that responsibility in relationship only when you love somebody. When your heart is full, then you find a way. This is urgent, it is imminent - you cannot wait for the experts to come and tell you how to educate your child. Only you who love will find the way; for, those hearts are empty that look to the experts. You have listened to all this, and what is your reaction? You will say, `Yes, very nice, very good, it should be done; but let somebody else begin' - which means, really, you don't love your child; you have no relationship with your child, so you don't see the difficulty. The more irresponsible you become, the more the State takes over all responsibility - the State being the few, the party, left or right. You yourself have to work it out because we are facing a great crisis - not a verbal crisis, not a political or an economic crisis, but a crisis of human degradation, of human disintegration. Therefore, it is your responsibility; as the father, as the mother, you have got to transform yourself. These are not just words I am indulging in. One sees this calamity approaching so closely and dangerously, and we sit here and do not do a thing about it; or if we do, we look to some leader and turn our hearts over to him. It is an obvious fact that when you pursue a leader, you choose that leader out of your own confusion, and therefore the leader himself is confused. (Laughter.) Don't laugh it off as a clever remark: please look at it, see what you are doing. It is you who are responsible for the appalling horror which we have come to, and you are not facing it. You go out and do exactly the same thing that you did yesterday; and you feel your responsibility is over when you ask that question about education and pass your child on to a teacher who teaches and beats him. Don't you see? Unless you love your wife, your children, and not merely use them as a tool or means for your own gratification, unless you are really touched by this, you will not find a right way of education. To educate your children means to be interested in the whole process of life. What you think, what you do, and what you say, matters infinitely, because that creates the environment, and it is the environment which created the child. Question: Marriage is a necessary part of any organized society, but you seem to be against the institution of marriage. What do you say? Please also explain the problem of sex. Why has it become, next to war, the most urgent problem of our day? Krishnamurti: To ask a question is easy, but the difficulty is to look very carefully into the problem itself, which contains the answer. To understand this problem, we must see its enormous implications. That is difficult, because our time is very limited and I shall have to be brief; and if you don't follow very closely, you may not be able to understand. Let us investigate the problem, not the answer, because the answer is in the problem, not away from it. The more I understand the problem, the clearer I see the answer. If you merely look for an answer, you will not find one, because you will be seeking an answer away from the problem. Let us look at marriage, but not theoretically or as an ideal, which is rather absurd; don't let us idealize marriage, let us look at it as it is, for then we can do something about it. If you make it rosy, then you can't act; but if you look at it and see it exactly as it is, then perhaps you will be able to act. Now, what actually takes place? When one is young, the biological, sexual urge is very strong, and in order to set a limit to it you have the institution called marriage. There is the biological urge on both sides, so you marry and have children. You tie yourself to a man or to a woman for the rest of your life, and in doing so you have a permanent source of pleasure, a guaranteed security, with the result that you begin to disintegrate; you live in a cycle of habit, and habit is disintegration. To understand this biological, this sexual urge, requires a great deal of intelligence, but we are not educated to be intelligent. We merely get on with a man or a woman with whom we have to live. I marry at 20 or 25, and I have to live for the rest of my life with a woman whom I have not known. I have-not known a thing about her, and yet you ask me to live with her for the rest of my life. Do you call that marriage? As I grow and observe, I find her to be completely different from me, her interests are different from mine; she is interested in clubs, I am interested in being very serious, or vice versa. And yet we have children - that is the most extraordinary thing. Sirs, don't look at the ladies and smile; it is your problem. So, I have established a relationship the significance of which I do not know, I have neither discovered it nor understood it. It is only for the very, very few who love that the married relationship has significance, and then it is unbreakable, then it is not mere habit or convenience, nor is it based on biological, sexual need. In that love which is unconditional the identities are fused, and in such a relationship there is a remedy, there is hope. But for most of you, the married relationship is not fused. To fuse the separate identities, you have to know yourself, and she has to know herself. That means to love. But there is no love - which is am obvious fact. Love is fresh, new, not mere gratification, not mere habit. It is unconditional. You don't treat your husband or wife that way, do you? You live in your isolation, and she lives in her isolation, and you have established your habits of assured sexual pleasure. What happens to a man who has an assured income? Surely, he deteriorates. Have you not noticed it? Watch a man who has an assured income and you will soon see how rapidly his mind is withering away. He may have a big position, a reputation for cunning, but the full joy of life is gone out of him. Similarly, you have a marriage in which you have a permanent source of pleasure, a habit without understanding, without love, and you are forced to live in that state. I am not saying what you should do; but look at the problem first. Do you think that is right? It does not mean that you must throw off your wife and pursue somebody else. What does this relationship mean? Surely, to love is to be in communion with somebody; but are you in communion with your wife, except physically? Do you know her, except physically? Does she know you? Are you not both isolated, each pursuing his or her own interests, ambitions and needs, each seeking from the other gratification, economic or psychological security? Such a relationship is not a relationship at all: it is a mutually self-enclosing process of psychological, biological and economic necessity, and the obvious result is conflict, misery, nagging, possessive fear, jealousy, and so on. Do you think such a relationship is productive of anything except ugly babies and an ugly civilization? Therefore, the important thing is to see the whole process, not as something ugly, but as an actual fact which is taking place under your very nose; and realizing that, what are you going to do? You cannot just leave it at that; but because you do not want to look into it, you take to drink, to politics, to a lady around the corner, to anything that takes you away from the house and from that nagging wife or husband - and you think you have solved the problem. That is your life, is it not? Therefore, you have to do something about it, which means you have to face it, and that means, if necessary, breaking up; because, when a father and mother are constantly nagging and quarrelling with each other, do you think that has not an effect on the children? And we have already considered, in the previous question, the education of children. So, marriage as a habit, as a cultivation of habitual pleasure, is a deteriorating factor, because there is no love in habit. Love is not habitual; love is something joyous, creative, new. Therefore, habit is the contrary of love; but you are caught in habit, and naturally your habitual relationship with another is dead. So, we come back again to the fundamental issue, which is that the reformation of society depends on you, not on legislation. Legislation can only make for further habit or conformity. Therefore, you as a responsible individual in relationship have to do something, you have to act, and you can act only when there is an awakening of your mind and heart. I see some of you nodding your heads in agreement with me, but the obvious fact is that you don't want to take the responsibility for transformation, for change; you don't want to face the upheaval of finding out how to live rightly. And so the problem continues, you quarrel and carry on, and finally you die; and when you die somebody weeps, not for the other fellow, but for his or her own loneliness. You carry on unchanged and you think you are human beings capable of legislation, of occupying high positions, talking about God, finding a way to stop wars, and so on. None of these things mean anything, because you have not solved any of the fundamental issues. Then, the other part of the problem is sex, and why sex has become so important. Why has this urge taken such a hold on you? Have you ever thought it out? You have not thought it out, because you have just indulged; you have not searched out why there is this problem. Sirs, why is there this problem? And what happens when you deal with it by suppressing it completely - you know, the ideal of Brahmacharya, and so on? What happens? It is still there. You resent anybody who talks about a woman, and you think that you can succeed in completely suppressing the sexual urge in yourself and solve your problem that way; but you are haunted by it. It is like living in a house and putting all your ugly things in one room; but they are still there. So, discipline is not going to solve this problem - discipline being sublimation, suppression, substitution - , because you have tried it, and that is not the way out. So, what is the way out? The way out is to understand the problem, and to understand is not to condemn or justify. Let us look at it, then, in that way. Why has sex become so important a problem in your life? Is not the sexual act, the feeling, a way of self-forgetfulness? Do you understand what I mean? In that act there is complete fusion; at that moment there is complete cessation of all conflict, you feel supremely happy because you no longer feel the need as a separate entity and you are not consumed with fear. That is, for a moment there is an ending of self-consciousness, and you feel the clarity of self-forgetfulness, the joy of self abnegation. So, sex has become important because in every other direction you are living a life of conflict, of self-aggrandizement and frustration. Sirs, look at your lives, political, social, religious: you are striving to become something. Politically, you want to be somebody, powerful, to have position, prestige. Don't look at somebody else, don't look at the ministers. If you were given all that, you would do the same thing. So, politically, you are striving to become somebody, you are expanding yourself, are you not? Therefore, you are creating conflict, there is no denial, there is no abnegation of the `me'. On the contrary, there is accentuation of the `me'. The same process goes on in your relationship with things, which is ownership of property, and again in the religion that you follow. There is no meaning in what you are doing, in your religious practices. You just believe, you cling to labels, words. If you observe, you will see that there too there is no freedom from the consciousness of the `me' as the centre. Though your religion says, `Forget yourself', your very process is the assertion of yourself, you are still the important entity. You may read the Gita or the Bible, but you are still the minister, you are still the exploiter, sucking the people and building temples. So, in every field, in every activity, you are indulging and emphasizing yourself, your importance, your prestige, your security. Therefore, there is only one source of self-forgetfulness, which is sex, and that is why the woman or the man becomes all-important to you, and why you must possess. So, you build a society which enforces that possession, guarantees you that possession; and naturally sex becomes the all-important problem when everywhere else the self is the important thing. And do you think, Sirs, that one can live in that state without contradiction, without misery, without frustration? But when there is honestly and sincerely no self-emphasis, whether in religion or in social activity, then sex has very little meaning. It is because you are afraid to be as nothing, politically, socially, religiously, that sex becomes a problem; but if in all these things you allowed yourself to diminish, to be the less, you would see that sex becomes no problem at all. There is chastity only when there is love. When there is love, the problem of sex ceases; and without love, to pursue the ideal of Brahmacharya is an absurdity, because the ideal is unreal. The real is that which you are; and if you don't understand your own mind, the workings of your own mind, you will not understand sex, because sex is a thing of the mind. The problem is not simple. It needs, not mere habit-forming practices, but tremendous thought and enquiry into your relationship with people, with property and with ideas. Sir, it means you have to undergo strenuous searching of your heart and mind, thereby bringing a transformation within yourself. Love is chaste; and when there is love, and not the mere idea of chastity created by the mind, then sex has lost its problem and has quite a different meaning. Question: In my view, the guru is one who awakens me to truth, to reality. What is wrong in my taking to such a guru? Krishnamurti: This question arises because I have said that gurus are an impediment to truth. Don't say you are wrong and I am right, or I am wrong and you are right, but let us examine the problem and find out. Let us enquire like mature, thoughtful people, without denying and without justifying. Which is more important, the guru or you? And why do you go to a guru? You say, `To be awakened to truth'. Are you really going to a guru to be awakened to truth? Let us think this out very clearly. Surely, when you go to a guru you are actually seeking gratification. That is you have a problem and your life is a mess, it is in confusion; and because you want to escape from it, you go to somebody whom you call a guru to find consolation verbally, or to escape an ideation. That is the actual process, and that process you call seeking truth. That is, you want comfort, you want gratification, you want your confusion cleared away by somebody; and the person who helps you to find escapes you call a guru. Actually, not theoretically, you look to a guru who will assure you of what you want. You go guru-hunting as you go window-shopping: you see what suits you best, and then buy it. In India, that is the position: You go around hunting for gurus, and when you find one you hold on to his feet or neck or hand till he gratifies you. To touch a man's feet - that is one of the most extraordinary things. You touch the guru's feet and kick your servants, and thereby you destroy human beings, you lose human significance. So, you go to a guru to find gratification, not truth. The idea may be that he should awaken you to truth, but the actual fact is that you find comfort. Why? Because you say, `I can't solve my problem, somebody must help me'. Can anybody help you to solve the confusion which you have created? What is confusion? Confusion with regard to what, suffering with regard to what? Confusion and suffering exist in your relationship with things, people and ideas; and if you cannot understand that confusion which you have created, how can another help you? He can tell you what to do, but you have to do it for yourself, it is your own responsibility; and because you are unwilling to take that responsibility, you sneak off to the guru - that is the right expression to use, `sneak off' - and you think you have solved the problem. On the contrary, you have not solved it at all; you have escaped, but the problem is still there. And, strangely, you always choose a guru who will assure you of what you want; therefore you are not seeking truth, and therefore the guru is not important. You are actually seeking someone who will satisfy you in your desires; that is why you create a leader, religious or political, and give yourself over to him, and that is why you accept his authority. Authority is evil, whether religious or political, because it is the leader and his position that are all-important, and you are unimportant. You are a human being with sorrow, pain, suffering, joy, and when you deny yourself and give yourself over to somebody, you are denying reality; because it is only through yourself that you can find reality, not through somebody else. Now, you say that you accept a guru as one who awakens you to reality. Let us find out if it is possible for another to awaken you to reality. I hope you are following all this, because it is your problem, not mine. Let us find out the truth about whether another can awaken you to reality. Can I, who have been talking for an hour and a half, awaken you to reality, to that which is real? The term `guru' implies, does it not?, a man who leads you to truth, to happiness, to bliss eternal. Is truth a static thing that someone can lead you to? Someone can direct you to the station. Is truth like that, static, something permanent to which you can be led? It is static only when you create it out of your desire for comfort. But truth is not static, nobody can lead you to truth. Beware of the person who says he can lead you to truth, because it is not true. Truth is something unknown from moment to moment, it cannot be captured by the mind, it cannot be formulated, it has no resting place. Therefore, no one can lead you to truth. You may ask me, `Why are you talking here?' All that I am doing is pointing out to you what is and how to understand what is as it is, not as it should be. I am not talking about the ideal, but about a thing that is actually right in front of you, and it is for you to look and see it. Therefore, you are more important than I, more important than any teacher, any saviour, any slogan, any belief; because you can find truth only through yourself, not through another. When you repeat the truth of another, it is a lie. Truth cannot be repeated. All that you can do is to see the problem as it is, and not escape. When you see the thing as it actually is, then you begin to awaken, but not when you are compelled by another. There is no saviour but yourself. When you have the intention and the attention to look directly at what is, then your very attention awakens you, because in attention everything is implied. To give attention, you must be devoted to what is, and to understand what is, you must have knowledge of it. Therefore, you must look, observe, give it your undivided attention, for all things are contained in that full attention you give to what is. So, the guru cannot awaken you; all that he can do is to point out what is. Truth is not a thing that can be caught by the mind. The guru can give you words, he can give you an explanation, the symbols of the mind; but the symbol is not the real, and if you are caught in the symbol, you will never find the way. Therefore, that which is important is not the teacher, it is not the symbol, it is not the explanation, but it is you who are seeking truth. To seek rightly is to give attention, not to God, not to truth, because you don't know it, but attention to the problem of your relationship with your wife, your children, your neighbour. When you establish right relationship then you love truth; for truth is not a thing that can be bought, truth does not come into being through self-immolation or through the repetition of mantras. Truth comes into being only when there is self-knowledge. Self-knowledge brings understanding, and when there is understanding, there are no problems. When there are no problems, then the mind is quiet, it is no longer caught up in its own creations. When the mind is not creating problems, when it understands each problem immediately as it arises, then it is utterly still, not made still. This total process is awareness, and it brings about a state of undisturbed tranquillity which is not the outcome of any discipline, of any practice or control, but is the natural outcome of understanding every problem as it arises. Problems arise only in relationship; and when there is understanding of one's relationship with things, with people and with ideas, then there is no disturbance of any kind in the mind and the thought process is silent. In that state there is neither the thinker nor the thought, the observer nor the observed. Therefore, the thinker ceases, and then the mind is no longer caught in time; and when there is no time, the timeless comes into being. But the timeless cannot be thought of. The mind, which is the product of time, cannot think of that which is timeless. Thought cannot conceive or formulate that which is beyond thought. When it does, its formulation is still part of thought. Therefore, eternity is not a thing of the mind; eternity comes into being only when there is love, for love in itself is eternal. Love is not something abstract to be thought about; love is to be found only in relationship with your wife, your children, your neighbour. When you know that love which is unconditional, which is not the product of the mind, then reality comes into being, and that state is utter bliss. December 19, 1948 NEW DELHI RADIO TALK 6TH NOVEMBER, 1948 The world is in confusion and misery, and every nation, including India, is looking for a way out of this conflict, this mounting sorrow. Though India has gained so-called freedom, she is caught in the turmoil of exploitation, like every other people; communal and caste antagonisms are rife, and though she is not as advanced as the West in technological matters, yet she is faced like the rest of the world with problems that no politician, no economist or reformer, however great, is able to solve. She seems to be so completely overwhelmed by the unexpected problems confronting her, that she is willing to sacrifice, for immediate ends, the essential values and the cumulative understanding of man's struggle. India is giving her heart over to the glittering and glamorous pomp of a modern State. Surely this is not freedom. India's problem is the world problem, and merely to look to the world for the solution of her problem is to avoid the understanding of the problem itself. Though India has been, in ancient times, a source of great action, merely to look to that past, to breathe the dead air of things that have been, does not bring about creative understanding of the present. Till we understand this aching present there can be no resolution of any human problem, and merely to escape into the past or into the future is utterly vain. The present crisis, which is obviously unprecedented, demands an entirely new approach to the problem of our existence. Throughout the world man is frustrated and in sorrow, for all the avenues through which he has sought fulfilment have failed him. So, far, the diagnosis and the remedy of this problem have been left to the specialists, and all specialization denies integrated action. We have divided life into departments, and each department has its own expert; and to these experts we have handed over our life, to be shaped according to the pattern of their choice. We have therefore lost all sense of individual responsibility, and this irresponsibility denies self-confidence. The lack of confidence in oneself is the outcome of fear, and we try to cover up this fear through so-called collective action, through the search for immediate results, or through the sacrifice of the present for a future Utopia. Confidence comes with action which is fully thought out and felt out. Because we have allowed ourselves to become irresponsible, we have bred confusion, and out of our confusion we have chosen leaders who are themselves confused. This has led us to despair, to a deep and aching frustration; it has emptied our hearts, which do not respond eagerly and swiftly, and therefore we never find a new approach to our problems. All that we seem able to do, unfortunately, is to follow some leader, old or new, who promises to take us to another world of hope. Instead of understanding our own irresponsibility, we turn to some ideology or to some easily recognizable social activity. It requires intelligence to perceive clearly that the problem of existence is relationship, which must be approached directly and simply. Because we do not understand relationship, whether with the one or with the many, we look to the expert for the solution of our problems; but it is vain to rely on the specialists, for they cam only think within the pattern of their conditioning. For the solution of this crisis, you and I must look to ourselves - not as of the East or of the West, with a special culture of our own, but as human beings. Now, we are challenged by war, by race and class, and by technology; and if our response to this challenge is not creatively adequate, we shall have to face greater disaster and greater sorrow. Our real difficulty is that we are so conditioned by our Eastern or Western outlook, or by some cunning ideology, that it has become almost impossible for us to think of the problem anew. You are either an Englishman, an Indian, a Russian, or an American; and you try to answer this challenge according to the pattern in which you have been brought up. But these problems cannot be adequately met as long as you are not free from your national, social and political background or ideology; they can never be solved according to any system, whether of the left or of the right. The many human problems can be solved only, when you and I understand our relationship to each other, and to the collective -which is society. Nothing can live in isolation. To be, is to be related; and because we refuse to see the truth of this our relationships fraught with conflict and pain. We have avoided the challenge by escaping into the abstraction called the mass. This escape has no true significance, for the mass is you and I. It is a fallacy to think in terms of the mass, for the mass is yourself in relationship with another; and if you do not understand this relationship, you become an amorphous entity exploited by the politician, the priest, and the expert. The ideological warfare that is going on at the present time has its roots in the confusion which exists in your relationship with another. War is obviously the spectacular and bloody expression of your daily life. You create a society that represents you, and your governments are the reflection of your own confusion and lack of integration. Being unaware of this, you try to solve the problem of war merely on the economic or the ideological level. War will exist as long as there are nationalistic states with their sovereign governments and frontiers. The gathering round a table of the various national re- presentatives will in no way end war; for how can there be goodwill as long as you cling to organized dogmas called religion, as long as you remain nationalistic, with particular ideologies backed up by fully armed sovereign governments? Until you see these things as a hindrance to peace and realize their cultivated falsehood, there can be no freedom from conflict, confusion and antagonism; on the contrary, whatever you say or do will contribute directly to war. The class and racial divisions which are destroying man are the outcome of the desire to be secure. Now, any kind of security, except the physiological, is really insecurity. That is, the pursuit of psychological security destroys physical security; and as long as we seek psychological security, which creates an acquisitive society, the needs of man can never be sanely and effectively organized. The effective organization of man's needs is the real function of technology; but when used for our psychological security, technology becomes a curse. Technological knowledge is intended for the use of man; but when the means have lost their true significance and are misapplied, then they ride the man - the machine becomes the master. In this present civilization, man's happiness is lost because technological knowledge is being used for the psychological glorification of power. Power is the new religion, with its national and political ideologies; and this new religion, the worship of the State, has its own dogmas, priests and inquisitions. In this process, the freedom and the happiness of man are completely denied, for the means have become a way of postponing the end. But the means are the end, the two cannot be separated; and because we have separated them, we inevitably create a contradiction between the means and the end. As long as we use technological knowledge for the advancement and glorification of the individual or of the group, the needs of man can never be sanely and effectively organized. It is this desire for psychological security through technological advancement that is destroying the physical security of man. There is sufficient scientific knowledge to feed, clothe and shelter man; but the proper use of this knowledge is denied as long as there are separative nationalities with their sovereign governments and frontiers - which in turn give rise to class and racial strife. So, you are responsible for the continuance of this conflict between man and man. As long as you, the individual, are nationalistic and patriotic, as long as you hold to political and social ideologies, you are responsible for war, because your relationship with another can only breed confusion and antagonism. Seeing the false as the false is the beginning of wisdom, and it is this truth alone that can bring happiness to you and so to the world. As you are responsible for war, you must be responsible for peace. Those who creatively feel this responsibility, must first free themselves psychologically from the causes of war, and not merely plunge into organizing political peace groups - which will only breed further division and opposition. Peace is not an idea opposed to war. Peace is a way of life; for there can be peace only when everyday living is understood. It is only this way of life that can effectively meet the challenge of war, of class, and of everincreasing technological advancement. This way of life is not the way of the intellect. The worship of the intellect in opposition to life has led us all to our present frustration, with its innumerable escapes. These escapes have become far more important than the understanding of the problem itself. The present crisis has come into being because of the worship of the intellect, and it is the intellect that has divided life into a series of opposing and contradictory actions; it is the intellect that has denied the unifying factor which is love. The intellect has filled the empty heart with the things of the mind; and it is only when the mind is aware of its own reasoning and is able to go beyond itself, that there can be the enrichment of the heart. Only the incorruptible enrichment of the heart can bring peace to this mad and battling world. November 6, 1948 Foreword by Aldous Huxley Chapter 1 Introduction Chapter 2 What Are We Seeking Chapter 3 Individual And Society Chapter 4 Self-Knowledge Chapter 5 Action And Idea Chapter 6 Belief Chapter 7 Effort Chapter 8 Contradiction Chapter 9 What Is The Self Chapter 10 Fear Chapter 11 Simplicity Chapter 12 Awareness Chapter 13 Desire Chapter 14 Relationship And Isolation Chapter 15 The Thinker And The Thought Chapter 16 Can Thinking Solve Our Problems Chapter 17 The Function Of The Mind Chapter 18 Self-Deception Chapter 19 Self-Centred Activity Chapter 20 Time And Transformation Chapter 21 Power And Realization - Question and Answers - Question 1 On The Present Crisis Question 2 On Nationalism Question 3 Why Spiritual Teachers? Question 4 On Knowledge Question 5 On Discipline Question 6 On Loneliness Question 7 On Suffering Question 8 On Awareness Question 9 On Relationship Question 10 On War Question 11 On Fear Question 12 On Boredom And Interest Question 13 On Hate Question 14 On Gossip Question 15 On Criticism Question 16 On Belief In God Question 17 On Memory Question 18 Surrender To What Is Question 19 On Prayer And Meditation Question 20 On The Conscious And Unconscious Mind Question 21 On Sex Question 22 On Love Question 23 On Death Question 24 On Time Question 25 On Action Without Idea Question 26 On The Old And The New Question 27 On Naming Question 28 On The Known And The Unknown Question 29 Truth And Lie Question 30 On God Question 31 On Immediate Realization Question 32 On Simplicity Question 33 On Superficiality Question 34 On Triviality Question 35 On The Stillness Of The Mind Question 36 On The Meaning Of Life Question 37 On The Confusion Of The Mind Question 38 On Transformation THE FIRST AND LAST FREEDOM FOREWORD BY ALDOUS HUXLEY MAN IS AN amphibian who lives simultaneously in two worlds -the given and the homemade, the world of matter, life and consciousness and the world of symbols. In our thinking we make use of a great variety of symbol-systems - linguistic, mathematical, pictorial, musical, ritualistic. Without such symbol-systems we should have no art, no science, no law, no philosophy, not so much as the rudiments of civilization: in other words, we should be animals. Symbols, then, are indispensable. But symbols - as the history of our own and every other age makes so abundantly clear - can also be fatal. Consider, for example, the domain of science on the one hand, the domain of politics and religion on the other. Thinking in terms of, and acting in response to, one set of symbols, we have come, in some small measure, to understand and control the elementary forces of nature. Thinking in terms of and acting in response to, another set of symbols, we use these forces as instruments of mass murder and collective suicide. In the first case the explanatory symbols were well chosen, carefully analysed and progressively adapted to the emergent facts of physical existence. in the second case symbols originally ill-chosen were never subjected to thoroughgoing analysis and never re-formulated so as to harmonize with the emergent facts of human existence. Worse still, these misleading symbols were everywhere treated with a wholly unwarranted respect, as though, in some mysterious way, they were more real than the realities to which they referred. In the contexts of religion and politics, words are not regarded as standing, rather inadequately, for things and events; on the contrary, things and events are regarded as particular illustrations of words. Up to the present symbols have been used realistically only in those fields which we do not feel to be supremely important. In every situation involving our deeper impulses we have insisted on using symbols, not merely unrealistically, but idolatrously, even insanely. The result is that we have been able to commit, in cold blood and over long periods of time, acts of which the brutes are capable only for brief moments and at the frantic height of rage, desire or fear. Because they use and worship symbols, men can become idealists; and, being idealists, they can transform the animal's intermittent greed into the grandiose imperialisms of a Rhodes or a J. P. Morgan; the animal's intermittent love of bullying into Stalinism or the Spanish Inquisition; the animal's intermittent attachment to its territory into the calculated frenzies of nationalism. Happily, they can also transform the animal's intermittent kindliness into the lifelong charity of an Elizabeth Fry or a Vincent de Paul; the animal's intermittent devotion to its mate and its young into that reasoned and persistent co-operation which, up to the present, has proved strong enough to save the world from the consequences of the other, the disastrous kind of idealism. Will it go on being able to save the world? The question cannot be answered. All we can say is that, with the idealists of nationalism holding the A-bomb, the odds in favour of the idealists of co-operation and charity have sharply declined. Even the best cookery book is no substitute for even the worst dinner. The fact seems sufficiently obvious. And yet, throughout the ages, the most profound philosophers, the most learned and acute theologians have constantly fallen into the error of identifying their purely verbal constructions with facts, or into the yet more enormous error of imagining that symbols are somehow more real than what they stand for. Their word-worship did not go without protest. "Only the spirit," said St. Paul, "gives life; the letter kills." "And why," asks Eckhart, "why do you prate of God? Whatever you say of God is untrue." At the other end of the world the author of one of the Mahayana sutras affirmed that "the truth was never preached by the Buddha, seeing that you have to realize it within yourself". Such utterances were felt to be profoundly subversive, and respectable people ignored them. The strange idolatrous over-estimation of words and emblems continued unchecked. Religions declined; but the old habit of formulating creeds and imposing belief in dogmas persisted even among the atheists. In recent years logicians and semanticists have carried out a very thorough analysis of the symbols, in terms of which men do their thinking. Linguistics has become a science, and one may even study a subject to which the late Benjamin Whorf gave the name of meta-linguistics. All this is greatly to the good; but it is not enough. Logic and semantics, linguistics and meta-linguistics - these are purely intellectual disciplines. They analyse the various ways, correct and incorrect, meaningful and meaningless, in which words can be related to things, processes and events. But they offer no guidance, in regard to the much more fundamental problem of the relationship of man in his psychophysical totality, on the one hand, and his two worlds, of data and of symbols, on the other. In every region and at every period of history, the problem has been repeatedly solved by individual men and women. Even when they spoke or wrote, these individuals created no systems - for they knew that every system is a standing temptation to take symbols too seriously, to pay more attention to words than to the realities for which the words are supposed to stand. Their aim was never to offer ready-made explanations and panaceas; it was to induce people to diagnose and cure their own ills, to get them to go to the place where man's problem and its solution present themselves directly to experience. In this volume of selections from the writings and recorded talks of Krishnamurti, the reader will find a clear contemporary statement of the fundamental human problem, together with an invitation to solve it in the only way in which it can be solved - for and by himself. The collective solutions, to which so many so desperately pin their faith, are never adequate. "To understand the misery and confusion that exist within ourselves, and so in the world, we must first find clarity within ourselves, and that clarity comes about through right thinking. This clarity is not to be organized, for it cannot be exchanged with another. Organized group thought is merely repetitive. Clarity is not the result of verbal assertion, but of intense self-awareness and right thinking. Right thinking is not the outcome of or mere cultivation of the intellect, nor is it conformity to pattern, however worthy and noble. Right thinking comes with self-knowledge. Without understanding yourself you have no basis for thought; without self-knowledge, what you think is not true." This fundamental theme is developed by Krishnamurti in passage after passage. `'There is hope in men, not in society, not in systems, organized religious systems, but in you and in me." Organized religions, with their mediators, their sacred books, their dogmas, their hierarchies and rituals, offer only a false solution to the basic problem. "When you quote the Bhagavad Gita, or the Bible, or some Chinese Sacred Book, surely you are merely repeating, are you not? And what you are repeating is not the truth. It is a lie, for truth cannot be repeated." A lie can be extended, propounded and repeated, but not truth; and when you repeat truth, it ceases to be truth, and therefore sacred books are unimportant. It is through self-knowledge, not through belief in somebody else's symbols, that a man comes to the eternal reality, in which his being is grounded. Belief in the complete adequacy and superlative value of any given symbol system leads not to liberation, but to history, to more of the same old disasters. "Belief inevitably separates. If you have a belief, or when you seek security in your particular belief, you become separated from those who seek security in some other form of belief. All organized beliefs are based on separation, though they may preach brotherhood." The man who has successfully solved the problem of his relations with the two worlds of data and symbols, is a man who has no beliefs. With regard to the problems of practical life he entertains a series of working hypotheses, which serve his purposes, but are taken no more seriously than any other kind of tool or instrument. With regard to his fellow beings and to the reality in which they are grounded, he has the direct experiences of love and insight. It is to protect himself from beliefs that Krishnamurti has "not read any sacred literature, neither the Bhagavad Gita nor the Upanishads". The rest of us do not even read sacred literature; we read our favourite newspapers, magazines and detective stories. This means that we approach the crisis of our times, not with love and insight, but "with formulas, with systems" - and pretty poor formulas and systems at that. But "men of good will should not have formulas; for formulas lead, inevitably, only to "blind thinking". Addiction to formulas is almost universal. Inevitably so; for "our system of upbringing is based upon what to think, not on how to think". We are brought up as believing and practising members of some organization - the Communist or the Christian, the Moslem, the Hindu, the Buddhist, the Freudian. Consequently "you respond to the challenge, which is always new, according to an old pattern; and therefore your response has no corresponding validity, newness, freshness. If you respond as a Catholic or a Communist, you are responding - are you not? - according to a patterned thought. Therefore your response has no significance. And has not the Hindu, the Mussulman, the Buddhist, the Christian created this problem? As the new religion is the worship of the State, so the old religion was the worship of an idea." If you respond to a challenge according to the old conditioning, your response will not enable you to understand the new challenge. Therefore what "one has to do, in order to meet the new challenge, is to strip oneself completely, denude oneself entirely of the background and meet the challenge anew". In other words symbols should never be raised to the rank of dogmas, nor should any system be regarded as more than a provisional convenience. Belief in formulas and action in accordance with these beliefs cannot bring us to a solution of our problem. "It is only through creative understanding of ourselves that there can be a creative world, a happy world, a world in which ideas do not exist." A world in which ideas do not exist would be a happy world, because it would be a world without the powerful conditioning forces which compel men to undertake inappropriate action, a world without the hallowed dogmas in terms of which the worst crimes are justified, the greatest follies elaborately rationalized. An education that teaches us not how but what to think is an education that calls for a governing class of pastors and masters. But "the very idea of leading somebody is antisocial and anti-spiritual". To the man who exercises it, leadership brings gratification of the craving for power; to those who are led, it brings the gratification of the desire for certainty and security. The guru provides a kind of dope. But, it may be asked, "What are you doing? Are you not acting as our guru?" "Surely," Krishnamurti answers, "I am not acting as your guru, because, first of all, I am not giving you any gratification. I am not telling you what you should do from moment to moment, or from day to day, but I am just pointing out something to you; you can take it or leave it, depending on you, not on me. I do not demand a thing from you, neither your worship, nor your flattery, nor your insults, nor your gods. I say," This is a fact; take it or leave it. And most of you will leave it, for the obvious reason that you do not find gratification in it." What is it precisely that Krishnamurti offers? What is it that we can take if we wish, but in all probability shall prefer to leave? It is not, as we have seen, a system of belief, a catalogue of dogmas, a set of ready-made notions and ideals. It is not leadership, not mediation, not spiritual direction, not even example. It is not ritual, not a church, not a code, not uplift or any form of inspirational twaddle. Is it, perhaps, self-discipline? No; for self-discipline is not, as a matter of brute fact, the way in which our problem can be solved. In order to find the solution, the mind must open itself to reality, must confront the givenness of the outer and inner worlds without preconceptions or restrictions. (God's service is perfect freedom. Conversely, perfect freedom is the service of God.) In becoming disciplined, the mind undergoes no radical change; it is the old self, but "tethered, held in control". Self-discipline joins the list of things which Krishnamurti does not offer. Can it be, then, that what he offers is prayer? Again, the reply is in the negative. "Prayer may bring you the answer you seek; but that answer may come from your unconscious, or from the general reservoir, the storehouse of all your demands. The answer is not the still voice of God." Consider, Krishnamurti goes on, "what happens when you pray. By constant repetition of certain phrases, and by controlling your thoughts, the mind becomes quiet, doesn't it? At least, the conscious mind becomes quiet. You kneel as the Christians do, or you sit as the Hindus do, and you repeat and repeat, and through that repetition the mind becomes quiet. In that quietness there is the intimation of something. That intimation of something, for which you have prayed, may be from the unconscious, or it may be the response of your memories. But, surely, it is not the voice of reality; for the voice of reality must come to you; it cannot be appealed to, you cannot pray to it. You cannot entice it into your little cage by doing puja, bhajan and all the rest of it, by offering it flowers, by placating it, by suppressing yourself or emulating others. Once you have learned the trick of quietening the mind, through the repetition of words, and of receiving hints in that quietness, the danger is - unless you are fully alert as to whence those hints come - that you will be caught, and then prayer becomes a substitute for the search for Truth. That which you ask for you get; but it is not the truth. If you want, and if you petition, you will receive, but you will pay for it in the end." From prayer we pass to yoga, and yoga, we find, is another of the things which Krishnamurti does not offer. For yoga is concentration, and concentration is exclusion. "You build a wall of resistance by concentration on a thought which you have chosen, and you try to ward off all the others." What is commonly called meditation is merely "the cultivation of resistance, of exclusive concentration on an idea of our choice". But what makes you choose? "What makes you say this is good, true, noble, and the rest is not? Obviously the choice is based on pleasure, reward or achievement; or it is merely a reaction of one's conditioning or tradition. Why do you choose at all? Why not examine every thought? When you are interested in the many, why choose one? Why not examine every interest? Instead of creating resistance, why not go into each interest as it arises, and not merely concentrate on one idea, one interest? After all, you are made up of many interests, you have many masks, consciously and unconsciously. Why choose one and discard all the others, in combating which you spend all your energies, thereby creating resistance, conflict and friction. Whereas if you consider every thought as it arises - every thought, not just a few thoughts - then there is no exclusion. But it is an arduous thing to examine every thought. Because, as you are looking at one thought, another slips in. But if you are aware without domination or justification, you will see that, by merely looking at that thought, no other thought intrudes. It is only when you condemn, compare, approximate, that other thoughts enter in." "Judge not that ye be not judged." The gospel precept applies to our dealings with ourselves no less than to our dealings with others. Where there is judgement, where there is comparison and condemnation, openness of mind is absent; there can be no freedom from the tyranny of symbols and systems, no escape from the past and the environment. Introspection with a predetermined purpose, self-examination within the framework of some traditional code, some set of hallowed postulates - these do not, these cannot help us. There is a transcendent spontaneity of life, a `creative Reality', as Krishnamurti calls it, which reveals itself as immanent only when the perceiver's mind is in a state of `alert passivity', of `choiceless awareness'. Judgement and comparison commit us irrevocably to duality. Only choiceless awareness can lead to non-duality, to the reconciliation of opposites in a total understanding and a total love. Ama et fac quod vis. If you love, you may do what you will. But if you start by doing what you will, or by doing what you don't will in obedience to some traditional system or notions, ideals and prohibitions, you will never love. The liberating process must begin with the choiceless awareness of what you will and of your reactions to the symbol-system which tells you that you ought, or ought not, to will it. Through this choiceless awareness, as it penetrates the successive layers of the ego and its associated subconscious, will come love and understanding, but of another order than that with which we are ordinarily familiar. This choiceless awareness - at every moment and in all the circumstances of life - is the only effective meditation. All other forms of yoga lead either to the blind thinking which results from self-discipline, or to some kind of self-induced rapture, some form of false samadhi. The true liberation is "an inner freedom of creative Reality". This "is not a gift; it is to be discovered and experienced. It is not an acquisition to be gathered to yourself to glorify yourself. It is a state of being, as silence, in which there is no becoming, in which there is completeness. This creativeness may not necessarily seek expression; it is not a talent that demands outward manifestation. You need not be a great artist or have an audience; if you seek these, you will miss the inward Reality. It is neither a gift, nor is it the outcome of talent; it is to be found, this imperishable treasure, where thought frees itself from lust, ill will and ignorance, where thought frees itself from worldliness and personal craving to be. It is to be experienced through right thinking and meditation." Choiceless self-awareness will bring us to the creative Reality which underlies all our destructive make-believes, to the tranquil wisdom which is always there, in spite of ignorance, in spite of the knowledge which is merely ignorance in another form. Knowledge is an affair of symbols and is, all too often, a hindrance to wisdom, to the uncovering of the self from moment to moment. A mind that has come to the stillness of wisdom "shall know being, shall know what it is to love. Love is neither personal nor impersonal. Love is love, not to be defined or described by the mind as exclusive or inclusive. Love is its own eternity; it is the real, the supreme, the immeasurable." ALDOUS HUXLEY THE FIRST AND LAST FREEDOM CHAPTER 1 INTRODUCTION TO COMMUNICATE with one another, even if we know each other very well, is extremely difficult. I may use words that may have to you a significance different from mine. Understanding comes when we, you and I, meet on the same level at the same time. That happens only when there is real affection between people, between husband and wife, between intimate fiends. That is real communion. Instantaneous understanding comes when we meet on the same level at the same time. It is very difficult to commune with one another easily, effectively and with definitive action. I am using words which are simple, which are not technical, because I do not think that any technical type of expression is going to help us solve our difficult problems; so I am not going to use any technical terms, either of psychology or of science. I have not read any books on psychology or any religious books, fortunately. I would like to convey, by the very simple words which we use in our daily life, a deeper significance; but that is very difficult if you do not know how to listen. There is an art of listening. To be able really to listen, one should abandon or put aside all prejudices, preformulations and daily activities. When you are in a receptive state of mind, things can be easily understood; you are listening when your real attention is given to something. But unfortunately most of us listen through a screen of resistance. We are screened with prejudices, whether religious or spiritual, psychological or scientific; or with our daily worries, desires and fears. And with these for a screen, we listen. Therefore, we listen really to our own noise, to our own sound, not to what is being said. It is extremely difficult to put aside our training, our prejudices, our inclination, our resistance, and, reaching beyond the verbal expression, to listen so that we understand instantaneously. That is going to be one of our difficulties. If during this discourse, anything is said which is opposed to your way of thinking and belief just listen; do not resist. You may be right, and I may be wrong; but by listening and considering together we are going to find out what is the truth. Truth cannot be given to you by somebody. You have to discover it; and to discover, there must be a state of mind in which there is direct perception. There is no direct perception when there is a resistance, a safeguard, a protection. Understanding comes through being aware of what is. To know exactly what is, the real, the actual, without interpreting it, without condemning or justifying it, is, surely, the beginning of wisdom. It is only when we begin to interpret, to translate according to our conditioning, according to our prejudice, that we miss the truth. After all, it is like research. To know what something is, what it is exactly, requires research -you cannot translate it according to your moods. Similarly, if we can look, observe, listen, be aware of what is, exactly, then the problem is solved. And that is what we are going to do in all these discourses. I am going to point out to you what is, and not translate it according to my fancy; nor should you translate it or interpret it according to your background or training. Is it not possible, then, to be aware of everything as it is? Starting from there, surely, there can be an understanding. To acknowledge, to be aware of to get at that which is, puts an end to struggle. If I know that I am a liar, and it is a fact which I recognize, then the struggle is over. To acknowledge, to be aware of what one is, is already the beginning of wisdom, the beginning of understanding, which releases you from time. To bring in the quality of time - time, not in the chronological sense, but as the medium, as the psychological process, the process of the mind - is destructive, and creates confusion. So, we can have understanding of what is when we recognize it without condemnation, without justification, without identification. To know that one is in a certain condition, in a certain state, is already a process of liberation; but a man who is not aware of his condition, of his struggle, tries to be something other than he is, which brings about habit. So, then, let us keep in mind that we want to examine what is, to observe and be aware of exactly what is the actual, without giving it any slant, without giving it an interpretation. It needs an extraordinarily astute mind, an extraordinarily pliable heart, to be aware of and to follow what is; because what is is constantly moving, constantly undergoing a transformation, and if the mind is tethered to belief, to knowledge, it ceases to pursue, it ceases to follow the swift movement of what is. What is is not static, surely - it is constantly moving, as you will see if you observe it very closely. To follow it, you need a very swift mind and a pliable heart - which are denied when the mind is static, fixed in a belief, in a prejudice, in an identification; and a mind and heart that are dry cannot follow easily, swiftly, that which is. One is aware, I think, without too much discussion, too much verbal expression, that there is individual as well as collective chaos, confusion and misery. It is not only in India, but right throughout the world; in China, America, England, Germany, all over the world, there is confusion, mounting sorrow. It is not only national, it is not particularly here, it is all over the world. There is extraordinarily acute suffering, and it is not individual only but collective. So it is a world catastrophe, and to limit it merely to a geographical area, a coloured section of the map, is absurd; because then we shall not understand the full significance of this worldwide as well as individual suffering. Being aware of this confusion, what is our response today? How do we react? There is suffering, political, social, religious; our whole psychological being is confused, and all the leaders, political and religious, have failed us; all the books have lost their significance. You may go to the Bhagavad Gita or the Bible or the latest treatise on politics or psychology, and you will find that they have lost that ring, that quality of truth; they have become mere words. You yourself who are the repeater of those words, are confused and uncertain, and mere repetition of words conveys nothing. Therefore the words and the books have lost their value; that is, if you quote the Bible, or Marx, or the Bhagavad Gita, as you who quote it are yourself uncertain, confused, your repetition becomes a lie; because what is written there becomes mere propaganda, and propaganda is not truth. So when you repeat, you have ceased to understand your own state of being. You are merely covering with words of authority your own confusion. But what we are trying to do is to understand this confusion and not cover it up with quotations; so what is your response to it? How do you respond to this extraordinary chaos, this confusion, this uncertainty of existence? Be aware of it, as I discuss it: follow, not my words, but the thought which is active in you. Most of us are accustomed to be spectators and not to partake in the game. We read books but we never write books. It has become our tradition, our national and universal habit, to be the spectators, to look on at a football game, to watch the public politicians and orators. We are merely the outsiders, looking on, and we have lost the creative capacity. Therefore we want to absorb and partake. But if you are merely observing, if you are merely spectators, you will lose entirely the significance of this discourse, because this is not a lecture which you are to listen to from force of habit. I am not going to give you information which you can pick up in an encyclopaedia. What we are trying to do is to follow each other's thoughts, to pursue as far as we can, as profoundly as we can, the intimations, the responses of our own feelings. So please find out what your response is to this cause, to this suffering; not what somebody else's words are, but how you yourself respond. Your response is one of indifference if you benefit by the suffering, by the chaos, if you derive profit from it, either economic, social, political or psychological. Therefore you do not mind if this chaos continues. Surely, the more trouble there is in the world, the more chaos, the more one seeks security. Haven't you noticed it? When there is confusion in the world, psychologically and in every way, you enclose yourself in some kind of security, either that of a bank account or that of an ideology; or else you turn to prayer, you go to the temple - which is really escaping from what is happening in the world. More and more sects are being formed, more and more `isms' are springing up all over the world. Because the more confusion there is, the more you want a leader, somebody who will guide you out of this mess, so you turn to the religious books, or to one of the latest teachers; or else you act and respond according to a system which appears to solve the problem, a system either of the left or of the right. That is exactly what is happening. The moment you are aware of confusion, of exactly what is, you try to escape from it. Those sects which offer you a system for the solution of suffering, economic, social or religious, are the worst; because then system becomes important and not man - whether it be a religious system, or a system of the left or of the right. System becomes important, the philosophy, the idea, becomes important, and not man; and for the sake of the idea, of the ideology, you are willing to sacrifice all mankind, which is exactly what is happening in the world. This is not merely my interpretation; if you observe, you will find that is exactly what is happening. The system has become important. Therefore, as the system has become important, men, you and I, lose significance; and the controllers of the system, whether religious or social, whether of the left or of the right, assume authority, assume power, and therefore sacrifice you, the individual. That is exactly what is happening. Now what is the cause of this confusion, this misery? How did this misery come about, this suffering, not only inwardly but outwardly, this fear and expectation of war, the third world war that is breaking out? What is the cause of it? Surely it indicates the collapse of all moral, spiritual values, and the glorification of all sensual values, of the value of things made by the hand or by the mind. What happens when we have no other values except the value of the things of the senses, the value of the products of the mind, of the hand or of the machine? The more significance we give to the sensual value of things, the greater the confusion, is it not? Again, this is not my theory. You do not have to quote books to find out that your values, your riches, your economic and social existence are based on things made by the hand or by the mind. So we live and function and have our being steeped in sensual values, which means that things, the things of the mind, the things of the hand and of the machine, have become important; and when things become important, belief becomes predominantly significant -which is exactly what is happening in the world, is it not? Thus, giving more and more significance to the values of the senses brings about confusion; and, being in confusion, we try to escape from it through various forms, whether religious, economic or social, or through ambition, through power, through the search for reality. But the real is near, you do not have to seek it; and a man who seeks truth will never find it. Truth is in what is - and that is the beauty of it. But the moment you conceive it, the moment you seek it, you begin to struggle; and a man who struggles cannot understand. That is why we have to be still, observant, passively aware. We see that our living, our action, is always within the field of destruction, within the field of sorrow; like a wave, confusion and chaos always overtake us. There is no interval in the confusion of existence. Whatever we do at present seems to lead to chaos, seems to lead to sorrow and unhappiness. Look at your own life and you will see that our living is always on the border of sorrow. Our work, our social activity, our politics, the various gatherings of nations to stop war, all produce further war. Destruction follows in the wake of living; whatever we do leads to death. That is what is actually taking place. Can we stop this misery at once, and not go on always being caught by the wave of confusion and sorrow? That is, great teachers, whether the Buddha or the Christ, have come; they have accepted faith, making themselves, perhaps, free from confusion and sorrow. But they have never prevented sorrow, they have never stopped confusion. Confusion goes on, sorrow goes on. If you, seeing this social and economic confusion, this chaos, this misery, withdraw into what is called the religious life and abandon the world, you may feel that you are joining these great teachers; but the world goes on with its chaos, its misery and destruction, the everlasting suffering of its rich and poor. So, our problem, yours and mine, is whether we can step out of this misery instantaneously. If, living in the world, you refuse to be a part of it, you will help others out of this chaos - not in the future, not tomorrow, but now. Surely that is our problem. War is probably coming, more destructive, more appalling in its form. Surely we cannot prevent it, because the issues are much too strong and too close. But you and I can perceive the confusion and misery immediately, can we not? We must perceive them, and then we shall be in a position to awaken the same understanding of truth in another. In other words, can you be instantaneously free? - because that is the only way out of this misery. Perception can take place only in the present; but if you say, "I will do it tomorrow the wave of confusion overtakes you, and you are then always involved in confusion. Now is it possible to come to that state when you yourself perceive the truth instantaneously and therefore put an end to confusion? I say that it is, and that it is the only possible way. I say it can be done and must be done, not based on supposition or belief. To bring about this extraordinary revolution - which is not the revolution to get rid of the capitalists and install another group -to bring about this wonderful transformation, which is the only true revolution, is the problem. What is generally called revolution is merely the modification or the continuance of the right according to the ideas of the left. The left, after all, is the continuation of the right in a modified form. If the right is based on sensual values, the left is but a continuance of the same sensual values, different only in degree or expression. Therefore true revolution can take place only when you, the individual, become aware in your relationship to another. Surely what you are in your relationship to another, to your wife, your child, your boss, your neighbour, is society. Society by itself is non-existent. Society is what you and I, in our relationship, have created; it is the outward projection of all our own inward psychological states. So if you and I do not understand ourselves, merely transforming the outer, which is the projection of the inner, has no significance whatsoever; that is there can be no significant alteration or modification in society so long as I do not understand myself in relationship to you. Being confused in my relationship, I create a society which is the replica, the outward expression of what I am. This is an obvious fact, which we can discuss. We can discuss whether society, the outward expression, has produced me, or whether I have produced society. Is it not, therefore, an obvious fact that what I am in my relationship to another creates society and that, without radically transforming myself, there can be no transformation of the essential function of society? When we look to a system for the transformation of society, we are merely evading the question, because a system cannot transform man; man always transforms the system, which history shows. Until I, in my relationship to you, understand myself I am the cause of chaos, misery, destruction, fear, brutality. Understanding myself is not a matter of time; I can understand myself at this very moment. If I say, "I shall understand myself to-morrow", I am bringing in chaos and misery, my action is destructive. The moment I say that I "shall" understand, I bring in the time element and so am already caught up in the wave of confusion and destruction. Understanding is now, not tomorrow. To-morrow is for the lazy mind, the sluggish mind, the mind that is not interested. When you are interested in something, you do it instantaneously, there is immediate understanding, immediate transformation. If you do not change now, you will never change, because the change that takes place tomorrow is merely a modification, it is not transformation. Transformation can only take place immediately; the revolution is now, not tomorrow. When that happens, you are completely without a problem, for then the self is not worried about itself; then you are beyond the wave of destruction. THE FIRST AND LAST FREEDOM CHAPTER 2 'WHAT ARE WE SEEKING?' WHAT IS IT THAT most of us are seeking? What is it that each one of us wants? Especially in this restless world, where everybody is trying to find some kind of peace, some kind of happiness, a refuge, surely it is important to find out, isn't it?, what it is that we are trying to seek, what it is that we are trying to discover. Probably most of us are seeking some kind of happiness, some kind of peace; in a world that is ridden with turmoil, wars, contention, strife, we want a refuge where there can be some peace. I think that is what most of us want. So we pursue, go from one leader to another, from one religious organization to another, from one teacher to another. Now, is it that we are seeking happiness or is it that we are seeking gratification of some kind from which we hope to derive happiness? There is a difference between happiness and gratification. Can you seek happiness? Perhaps you can find gratification but surely you cannot find happiness. Happiness is derivative; it is a by-product of something else. So, before we give our minds and hearts to something which demands a great deal of earnestness, attention, thought, care, we must find out, must we not?, what it is that we are seeking; whether it is happiness, or gratification. I am afraid most of us are seeking gratification. We want to be gratified, we want to find a sense of fullness at the end of our search. After all, if one is seeking peace one can find it very easily. One can devote oneself blindly to some kind of cause, to an idea, and take shelter there. Surely that does not solve the problem. Mere isolation in an enclosing idea is not a release from conflict. So we must find, must we not?, what it is, inwardly, as well as outwardly, that each one of us wants. If we are clear on that matter, then we don't have to go anywhere, to any teacher, to any church, to any organization. Therefore our difficulty is, to be clear in ourselves regarding our intention, is it not? Can we be clear? And does that clarity come through searching, through trying to find out what others say, from the highest teacher to the ordinary preacher in a church round the corner? Have you got to go to somebody to find out? Yet that is what we are doing, is it not? We read innumerable books, we attend many meetings and discuss, we join various organizations - trying thereby to find a remedy to the conflict, to the miseries in our lives. Or, if we don't do all that, we think we have found; that is we say that a particular organization, a particular teacher, a particular book satisfies us; we have found everything we want in that; and we remain in that, crystallized and enclosed. Do we not seek, through all this confusion, something permanent, something lasting, something which we call real, God, truth, what you like - the name doesn't matter, the word is not the thing, surely. So don't let us be caught in words. Leave that to the professional lecturers. There is a search for something permanent, is there not?,in most of us - something we can cling to, something which will give us assurance, a hope, a lasting enthusiasm, a lasting certainty, because in ourselves we are so uncertain. We do not know ourselves. We know a lot about facts, what the books have said; but we do not know for ourselves, we do not have a direct experience. And what is it that we call permanent? What is it that we are seeking, which will, or which we hope will give us permanency? Are we not seeking lasting happiness, lasting gratification, lasting certainty? We want something that will endure everlastingly, which will gratify us. If we strip ourselves of all the words and phrases, and actually look at it, this is what we want. We want permanent pleasure, permanent gratification - which we call truth, God or what you will. Very well, we want pleasure. Perhaps that may be putting it very crudely, but that is actually what we want - knowledge that will give us pleasure, experience that will give us pleasure, a gratification that will not wither away by tomorrow. And we have experimented with various gratifications, and they have all faded away; and we hope now to find permanent gratification in reality, in God. Surely, that is what we are all seeking - the clever ones and the stupid ones, the theorist and the factual person who is striving after something. And is there permanent gratification? Is there something which will endure? Now, if you seek permanent gratification, calling it God, or truth, or what you will - the name does not matter - surely you must understand, must you not?, the thing you are seeking. When you say, "I am seeking permanent happiness" - God, or truth, or what you like - must you not also understand the thing that is searching, the searcher, the seeker? Because there may be no such thing as permanent security, permanent happiness. Truth may be something entirely different; and I think it is utterly different from what you can see, conceive, formulate. Therefore, before we seek something permanent, is it not obviously necessary to understand the seeker? Is the seeker different from the thing he seeks? When you say, `'I am seeking happiness", is the seeker different from the object of his search? Is the thinker different from the thought? Are they not a joint phenomenon, rather than separate processes? Therefore it is essential, is it not?, to understand the seeker, before you try to find out what it is he is seeking. So we have to come to the point when we ask ourselves, really earnestly and profoundly, if peace, happiness, reality, God, or what you will, can be given to us by someone else. Can this incessant search, this longing, give us that extraordinary sense of reality, that creative being, which comes when we really understand ourselves? Does self-knowledge come through search, through following someone else, through belonging to any particular organization, through reading books, and so on? After all, that is the main issue, is it not?, that so long as I do not understand myself, I have no basis for thought, and all my search will be in vain. I can escape into illusions, I can run away from contention, strife, struggle; I can worship another; I can look for my salvation through somebody else. But so long as I am ignorant of myself, so long as I am unaware of the total process of myself I have no basis for thought, for affection, for action. But that is the last thing we want: to know ourselves. Surely that is the only foundation on which we can build. But, before we can build, before we can transform, before we can condemn or destroy, we must know that which we are. To go out seeking, changing teachers, gurus, practicing yoga, breathing, performing rituals, following Masters and all the rest of it, is utterly useless, is it not? It has no meaning, even though the very people whom we follow may say: "Study yourself", because what we are, the world is. If we are petty, jealous, vain, greedy - that is what we create about us, that is the society in which we live. It seems to me that before we set out on a journey to find reality, to find God, before we can act, before we can have any relationship with another, which is society, it is essential that we begin to understand ourselves first. I consider the earnest person to be one who is completely concerned with this, first, and not with how to arrive at a particular goal, because, if you and I do not understand ourselves, how can we, in action, bring about a transformation in society, in relationship, in anything that we do? And it does not mean, obviously, that self-knowledge is opposed to, or isolated from, relationship. It does not mean, obviously, emphasis on the individual, the me, as opposed to the mass, as opposed to another. Now without knowing yourself, without knowing your own way of thinking and why you think certain things, without knowing the background of your conditioning and why you have certain beliefs about art and religion, about your country and your neighbour and about yourself how can you think truly about anything? Without knowing your background, without knowing the substance of your thought and whence it comes - surely your search is utterly futile, your action has no meaning, has it? Whether you are an American or a Hindu or whatever your religion is has no meaning either. Before we can find out what the end purpose of life is, what it all means - wars, national antagonisms, conflicts, the whole mess -we must begin with ourselves, must we not? It sounds so simple, but it is extremely difficult. To follow oneself to see how one's thought operates, one has to be extraordinarily alert, so that as one begins to be more and more alert to the intricacies of one's own thinking and responses and feelings, one begins to have a greater awareness, not only of oneself but of another with whom one is in relationship. To know oneself is to study oneself in action, which is relationship. The difficulty is that we are so impatient; we want to get on, we want to reach an end, and so we have neither the time nor the occasion to give ourselves the opportunity to study, to observe. Alternatively we have committed ourselves to various activities - to earning a livelihood, to rearing children - or have taken on certain responsibilities of various organizations; we have so committed ourselves in different ways that we have hardly any time for self-reflection, to observe, to study. So really the responsibility of the reaction depends on oneself not on another. The pursuit, all the world over, of gurus and their systems, reading the latest book on this and that, and so on, seems to me so utterly empty, so utterly futile, for you may wander all over the earth but you have to come back to yourself. And, as most of us are totally unaware of ourselves, it is extremely difficult to begin to see clearly the process of our thinking and feeling and acting. The more you know yourself the more clarity there is. Self-knowledge has no end - you don't come to an achievement, you don't come to a conclusion. It is an endless river. As one studies it, as one goes into it more and more, one finds peace. Only when the mind is tranquil - through self-knowledge and not through imposed self-discipline - only then, in that tranquillity, in that silence, can reality come into being. It is only then that there can be bliss, that there can be creative action. And it seems to me that without this understanding, without this experience, merely to read books, to attend talks, to do propaganda, is so infantile - just an activity without much meaning; whereas if one is able to understand oneself, and thereby bring about that creative happiness, that experiencing of something that is not of the mind, then perhaps there can be a transformation in the immediate relationship about us and so in the world in which we live. THE FIRST AND LAST FREEDOM CHAPTER 3 'INDIVIDUAL AND SOCIETY' THE PROBLEM THAT confronts most of us is whether the individual is merely the instrument of society or the end of society. Are you and I as individuals to be used, directed, educated, controlled, shaped to a certain pattern by society and government; or does society, the State, exist for the individual? Is the individual the end of society; or is he merely a puppet to be taught, exploited, butchered as an instrument of war? That is the problem that is confronting most of us. That is the problem of the world; whether the individual is a mere instrument of society, a plaything of influences to be moulded; or whether society exists for the individual. How are you going to find this out? It is a serious problem, isn't it? If the individual is merely an instrument of society, then society is much more important than the individual. If that is true, then we must give up individuality and work for society; our whole educational system must be entirely revolutionized and the individual turned into an instrument to be used and destroyed, liquidated, got rid of but if society exists for the individual, then the function of society is not to make him conform to any pattern but to give him the feel, the urge of freedom. So we have to find out which is false. How would you inquire into this problem? It is a vital problem, isn't it? It is not dependent on any ideology, either of the left or of the right; and if it is dependent on an ideology, then it is merely a matter of opinion. Ideas always breed enmity, confusion, conflict. If you depend on books of the left or of the right or on sacred books, then you depend on mere opinion, whether of Buddha, of Christ, of capitalism, communism or what you will. They are ideas, not truth. A fact can never be denied. Opinion about fact can be denied. If we can discover what the truth of the matter is, we shall be able to act independently of opinion. Is it not, therefore, necessary to discard what others have said? The opinion of the leftist or other leaders is the outcome of their conditioning, so if you depend for your discovery on what is found in books, you are merely bound by opinion. It is not a matter of knowledge. How is one to discover the truth of this? On that we will act. To find the truth of this, there must be freedom from all propaganda, which means you are capable of looking at the problem independently of opinion. The whole task of education is to awaken the individual. To see the truth of this, you will have to be very clear, which means you cannot depend on a leader. When you choose a leader you do so out of confusion, and so your leaders are also confused, and that is what is happening in the world. Therefore you cannot look to your leader for guidance or help. A mind that wishes to understand a problem must not only understand the problem completely, wholly, but must be able to follow it swiftly, because the problem is never static. The problem is always new, whether it is a problem of starvation, a psychological problem, or any problem. Any crisis is always new; therefore, to understand it, a mind must always be fresh, clear, swift in its pursuit. I think most of us realize the urgency of an inward revolution, which alone can bring about a radical transformation of the outer, of society. This is the problem with which I myself and all seriously-intentioned people are occupied. How to bring about a fundamental, a radical transformation in society, is our problem; and this transformation of the outer cannot take place without inner revolution. Since society is always static, any action, any reform which is accomplished without this inward revolution becomes equally static; so there is no hope without this constant inward revolution, because, without it, outer action becomes repetitive, habitual. The action of relationship between you and another, between you and me, is society; and that society becomes static, it has no life-giving quality, so long as there is not this constant inward revolution, a creative, psychological transformation; and it is because there is not this constant inward revolution that society is always becoming static, crystallized, and has therefore constantly to be broken up. What is the relationship between yourself and the misery, the confusion, in and around you? Surely this confusion, this misery, did not come into being by itself. You and I have created it, not a capitalist nor a communist nor a fascist society, but you and I have created it in our relationship with each other. What you are within has been projected without, on to the world; what you are, what you think and what you feel, what you do in your everyday existence, is projected outwardly, and that constitutes the world. If we are miserable, confused, chaotic within, by projection that becomes the world, that becomes society, because the relationship between yourself and myself between myself and another is society - society is the product of our relationship - and if our relationship is confused, egocentric, narrow, limited, national, we project that and bring chaos into the world. What you are, the world is. So your problem is the world's problem. Surely, this is a simple and basic fact, is it not? In our relationship with the one or the many we seem somehow to overlook this point all the time. We want to bring about alteration through a system or through a revolution in ideas or values based on a system, forgetting that it is you and I who create society, who bring about confusion or order by the way in which we live. So we must begin near, that is we must concern ourselves with our daily existence, with our daily thoughts and feelings and actions which are revealed in the manner of earning our livelihood and in our relationship with ideas or beliefs. This is our daily existence, is it not? We are concerned with livelihood, getting jobs, earning money; we are concerned with the relationship with our family or with our neighbours, and we are concerned with ideas and with beliefs. Now, if you examine our occupation, it is fundamentally based on envy, it is not just a means of earning a livelihood. Society is so constructed that it is a process of constant conflict, constant becoming; it is based on greed, on envy, envy of your superior; the clerk wanting to become the manager, which shows that he is not just concerned with earning a livelihood, a means of subsistence, but with acquiring position and prestige. This attitude naturally creates havoc in society, in relationship, but if you and I were only concerned with livelihood we should find out the right means of earning it, a means not based on envy. Envy is one of the most destructive factors in relationship because envy indicates the desire for power, for position, and it ultimately leads to politics; both are closely related. The clerk, when he seeks to become a manager, becomes a factor in the creation of power-politics which produce war; so he is directly responsible for war. What is our relationship based on ? The relationship between yourself and myself, between yourself and another - which is society - what is it based on? Surely not on love, though we talk about it. It is not based on love, because if there were love there would be order, there would be peace, happiness between you and me. But in that relationship between you and me there is a great deal of ill will which assumes the form of respect. If we were both equal in thought, in feeling, there would be no respect, there would be no ill will, because we would be two individuals meeting, not as disciple and teacher, nor as the husband dominating the wife, nor as the wife dominating the husband. When there is ill will there is a desire to dominate which arouses jealousy, anger, passion, all of which in our relationship creates constant conflict from which we try to escape, and this produces further chaos, further misery. Now as regards ideas which are part of our daily existence, beliefs and formulations, are they not distorting our minds? For what is stupidity? Stupidity is the giving of wrong values to those things which the mind creates, or to those things which the hands produce. Most of our thoughts spring from the self-protective instinct, do they not? Our ideas, oh, so many of them, do they not receive the wrong significance, one which they have not in themselves? Therefore when we believe in any form, whether religious, economic or social, when we believe in God, in ideas, in a social system which separates man from man, in nationalism and so on, surely we are giving a wrong significance to belief which indicates stupidity, for belief divides people, doesn't unite people. So we see that by the way we live we can produce order or chaos, peace or conflict, happiness or misery. So our problem, is it not?, is whether there can be a society which is static, and at the same time an individual in whom this constant revolution is taking place. That is, revolution in society must begin with the inner, psychological transformation of the individual. Most of us want to see a radical transformation in the social structure. That is the whole battle that is going on in the world - to bring about a social revolution through communistic or any other means. Now if there is a social revolution, that is an action with regard to the outer structure of man, however radical that social revolution may be its very nature is static if there is no inward revolution of the individual, no psychological transformation. Therefore to bring about a society that is not repetitive, nor static, not disintegrating, a society that is constantly alive, it is imperative that there should be a revolution in the psychological structure of the individual, for without inward, psychological revolution, mere transformation of the outer has very little significance. That is society is always becoming crystallized, static, and is therefore always disintegrating. However much and however wisely legislation may be promulgated, society is always in the process of decay because revolution must take place within, not merely outwardly. I think it is important to understand this and not slur over it. Outward action, when accomplished, is over, is static; if the relationship between individuals, which is society, is not the outcome of inward revolution, then the social structure, being static, absorbs the individual and therefore makes him equally static, repetitive. Realizing this, realizing the extraordinary significance of this fact, there can be no question of agreement or disagreement. It is a fact that society is always crystallizing and absorbing the individual and that constant, creative revolution can only be in the individual, not in society, not in the outer. That is creative revolution can take place only in individual relationship, which is society. We see how the structure of the present society in India, in Europe, in America, in every part of the world, is rapidly disintegrating; and we know it within our own lives. We can observe it as we go down the streets. We do not need great historians to tell us the fact that our society is crumbling; and there must be new architects, new builders, to create a new society. The structure must be built on a new foundation, on newly discovered facts and values. Such architects do not yet exist. There are no builders, none who, observing, becoming aware of the fact that the structure is collapsing, are transforming themselves into architects. That is our problem. We see society crumbling, disintegrating; and it is we, you and I, who have to be the architects. You and I have to rediscover the values and build on a more fundamental, lasting foundation; because if we look to the professional architects, the political and religious builders, we shall be precisely in the same position as before. Because you and I are not creative, we have reduced society to this chaos, so you and I have to be creative because the problem is urgent; you and I must be aware of the causes of the collapse of society and create a new structure based not on mere imitation but on our creative understanding. Now this implies, does it not?, negative thinking. Negative thinking is the highest form of understanding. That is in order to understand what is creative thinking, we must approach the problem negatively, because a positive approach to the problem - which is that you and I must become creative in order to build a new structure of society - will be imitative. To understand that which is crumbling, we must investigate it, examine it negatively - not with a positive system, a positive formula, a positive conclusion. Why is society crumbling, collapsing, as it surely is ? One of the fundamental reasons is that the individual, you, has ceased to be creative. I will explain what I mean. You and I have become imitative, we are copying, outwardly and inwardly. Outwardly, when learning a technique, when communicating with each other on the verbal level, naturally there must be some imitation, copy. I copy words. To become an engineer, I must first learn the technique, then use the technique to build a bridge. There must be a certain amount of imitation, copying, in outward technique, but when there is inward, psychological imitation surely we cease to be creative. Our education, our social structure, our so-called religious life, are all based on imitation; that is I fit into a particular social or religious formula. I have ceased to be a real individual; psychologically, I have become a mere repetitive machine with certain conditioned responses, whether those of the Hindu, the Christian, the Buddhist, the German or the Englishman. Our responses are conditioned according to the pattern of society, whether it is eastern or western, religious or materialistic. So one of the fundamental causes of the disintegration of society is imitation, and one of the disintegrating factors is the leader, whose very essence is imitation. In order to understand the nature of disintegrating society is it not important to inquire whether you and I, the individual, can be creative? We can see that when there is imitation there must be disintegration; when there is authority there must be copying. And since our whole mental, psychological make-up is based on authority, there must be freedom from authority, to be creative. Have you not noticed that in moments of creativeness, those rather happy moments of vital interest, there is no sense of repetition, no sense of copying? Such moments are always new, fresh, creative, happy. So we see that one of the fundamental causes of the disintegration of society is copying, which is the worship of authority. THE FIRST AND LAST FREEDOM CHAPTER 4 'SELF-KNOWLEDGE' THE PROBLEMS OF the world are so colossal, so very complex, that to understand and so to resolve them one must approach them in a very simple and direct manner; and simplicity, directness, do not depend on outward circumstances nor on our particular prejudices and moods. As I was pointing out, the solution is not to be found through conferences, blueprints, or through the substitution of new leaders for old, and so on, The solution obviously lies in the creator of that problem, in the creator of the mischief, of the hate and of the enormous misunderstanding that exists between human beings, The creator of this mischief, the creator of these problems, is the individual, you and I, not the world as we think of it. The world is your relationship with another. The world is not something separate from you and me; the world, society, is the relationship that we establish or seek to establish between each other. So you and I are the problem, and not the world, because the world is the projection of ourselves and to understand the world we must understand ourselves. That world is not separate from us; we are the world, and our problems are the world's problems. This cannot be repeated too often, because we are so sluggish in our mentality that we think the world's problems are not our business, that they have to be resolved by the United Nations or by substituting new leaders for the old. It is a very dull mentality that thinks like that, because we are responsible for this frightful misery and confusion in the world, this ever-impending war. To transform the world, we must begin with ourselves; and what is important in beginning with ourselves is the intention. The intention must be to understand ourselves and not to leave it to others to transform themselves or to bring about a modified change through revolution, either of the left or of the right. It is important to understand that this is our responsibility, yours and mine; because, however small may be the world we live in, if we can transform ourselves, bring about a radically different point of view in our daily existence, then perhaps we shall affect the world at large, the extended relationship with others. As I said, we are going to try and find out the process of understanding ourselves, which is not an isolating process. It is not withdrawal from the world, because you cannot live in isolation. To be is to be related, and there is no such thing as living in isolation. It is the lack of right relationship that brings about conflicts, misery and strife; however small our world may be, if we can transform our relationship in that narrow world, it will be like a wave extending outward all the time. I think it is important to see that point, that the world is our relationship, however narrow; and if we can bring a transformation there, not a superficial but a radical transformation, then we shall begin actively to transform the world. Real revolution is not according to any particular pattern, either of the left or of the right, but it is a revolution of values, a revolution from sensate values to the values that are not sensate or created by environmental influences. To find these true values which will bring about a radical revolution, a transformation or a regeneration, it is essential to understand oneself. Self-knowledge is the beginning of wisdom, and therefore the beginning of transformation or regeneration. To understand oneself there must be the intention to understand - and that is where our difficulty comes in. Although most of us are discontented, we desire to bring about a sudden change, our discontent is canalized merely to achieve a certain result; being discontented, we either seek a different job or merely succumb to environment. Discontent, instead of setting us aflame, causing us to question life, the whole process of existence, is canalized, and thereby we become mediocre, losing that drive, that intensity to find out the whole significance of existence. Therefore it is important to discover these things for ourselves, because self-knowledge cannot be given to us by another, it is not to be found through any book. We must discover, and to discover there must be the intention, the search, the inquiry. So long as that intention to find out, to inquire deeply, is weak or does not exist, mere assertion or a casual wish to find out about oneself is of very little significance. Thus the transformation of the world is brought about by the transformation of oneself, because the self is the product and a part of the total process of human existence. To transform oneself, self-knowledge is essential; without knowing what you are, there is no basis for right thought, and without knowing yourself there cannot be transformation, One must know oneself as one is, not as one wishes to be which is merely an ideal and therefore fictitious, unreal; it is only that which is that can be transformed, not that which you wish to be. To know oneself as one is requires an extraordinary alertness of mind, because what is is constantly undergoing transformation, change, and to follow it swiftly the mind must not be tethered to any particular dogma or belief, to any particular pattern of action. If you would follow anything it is no good being tethered. To know yourself, there must be the awareness, the alertness of mind in which there is freedom from all beliefs, from all idealization because beliefs and ideals only give you a colour, perverting true perception. If you want to know what you are you cannot imagine or have belief in something which you are not. If I am greedy, envious, violent, merely having an ideal of non-violence, of non-greed, is of little value. But to know that one is greedy or violent, to know and understand it, requires an extraordinary perception, does it not? It demands honesty, clarity of thought, whereas to pursue an ideal away from what is is an escape; it prevents you from discovering and acting directly upon what you are. The understanding of what you are, whatever it be - ugly or beautiful, wicked or mischievous - the understanding of what you are, without distortion, is the beginning of virtue. Virtue is essential, for it gives freedom. It is only in virtue that you can discover, that you can live - not in the cultivation of a virtue, which merely brings about respectability, not understanding and freedom. There is a difference between being virtuous and becoming virtuous. Being virtuous comes through the understanding of what is, whereas becoming virtuous is postponement, the covering up of what is with what you would like to be. Therefore in becoming virtuous you are avoiding action directly upon what is. This process of avoiding what is through the cultivation of the ideal is considered virtuous; but if you look at it closely and directly you will see that it is nothing of the kind. It is merely a postponement of coming face to face with what is. Virtue is not the becoming of what is not; virtue is the understanding of what is and therefore the freedom from what is. Virtue is essential in a society that is rapidly disintegrating. In order to create a new world, a new structure away from the old, there must be freedom to discover; and to be free, there must be virtue, for without virtue there is no freedom. Can the immoral man who is striving to become virtuous ever know virtue? The man who is not moral can never be free, and therefore he can never find out what reality is. Reality can be found only in understanding what is; and to understand what is, there must be freedom, freedom from the fear of what is. To understand that process there must be the intention to know what is, to follow every thought, feeling and action; and to understand what is is extremely difficult, because what is is never still, never static, it is always in movement. The what is is what you are, not what you would like to be; it is not the ideal, because the ideal is fictitious, but it is actually what you are doing, thinking and feeling from moment to moment. What is is the actual, and to understand the actual requires awareness, a very alert, swift mind. But if we begin to condemn what is, if we begin to blame or resist it, then we shall not understand its movement. If I want to understand somebody, I cannot condemn him: I must observe, study him. I must love the very thing I am studying. If you want to understand a child, you must love and not condemn him. You must play with him, watch his movements, his idiosyncrasies, his ways of behaviour; but if you merely condemn, resist or blame him, there is no comprehension of the child. Similarly, to understand what is, one must observe what one thinks, feels and does from moment to moment. That is the actual. Any other action, any ideal or ideological action, is not the actual; it is merely a wish, a fictitious desire to be something other than what is. To understand what is requires a state of mind in which there is no identification or condemnation, which means a mind that is alert and yet passive. We are in that state when we really desire to understand something; when the intensity of interest is there, that state of mind comes into being. When one is interested in understanding what is, the actual state of the mind, one does not need to force, discipline, or control it; on the contrary, there is passive alertness, watchfulness. This state of awareness comes when there is interest, the intention to understand. The fundamental understanding of oneself does not come through knowledge or through the accumulation of experiences, which is merely the cultivation of memory. The understanding of oneself is from moment to moment; if we merely accumulate knowledge of the self, that very knowledge prevents further understanding, because accumulated knowledge and experience becomes the centre through which thought focuses and has its being. The world is not different from us and our activities because it is what we are which creates the problems of the world; the difficulty with the majority of us is that we do not know ourselves directly, but seek a system, a method, a means of operation by which to solve the many human problems. Now is there a means, a system, of knowing oneself? Any clever person, any philosopher, can invent a system, a method; but surely the following of a system will merely produce a result created by that system, will it not? If I follow a particular method of knowing myself, then I shall have the result which that system necessitates; but the result will obviously not be the understanding of myself. That is by following a method, a system, a means through which to know myself, I shape my thinking, my activities, according to a pattern; but the following of a pattern is not the understanding of oneself. Therefore there is no method for self-knowledge. Seeking a method invariably implies the desire to attain some result - and that is what we all want. We follow authority - if not that of a person, then of a system, of an ideology - because we want a result which will be satisfactory, which will give us security. We really do not want to understand ourselves, our impulses and reactions, the whole process of our thinking, the conscious as well as the unconscious; we would rather pursue a system which assures us of a result. But the pursuit of a system is invariably the outcome of our desire for security, for certainty, and the result is obviously not the understanding of oneself. When we follow a method, we must have authorities - the teacher, the guru, the saviour, the Master -who will guarantee us what we desire; and surely that is not the way to self-knowledge. Authority prevents the understanding of oneself, does it not? Under the shelter of an authority, a guide, you may have temporarily a sense of security, a sense of well-being, but that is not the understanding of the total process of oneself. Authority in its very nature prevents the full awareness of oneself and therefore ultimately destroys freedom; in freedom alone can there be creativeness. There can be creativeness only through self-knowledge. Most of us are not creative; we are repetitive machines, mere gramophone records playing over and over again certain songs of experience, certain conclusions and memories, either our own or those of another. Such repetition is not creative being - but it is what we want. Because we want to be inwardly secure, we are constantly seeking methods and means for this security, and thereby we create authority, the worship of another, which destroys comprehension, that spontaneous tranquillity of mind in which alone there can be a state of creativeness. Surely our difficulty is that most of us have lost this sense of creativeness. To be creative does not mean that we must paint pictures or write poems and become famous. That is not creativeness - it is merely the capacity to express an idea, which the public applauds or disregards. Capacity and creativeness should not be confused. Capacity is not creativeness. Creativeness is quite a different state of being, is it not? It is a state in which the self is absent, in which the mind is no longer a focus of our experiences, our ambitions, our pursuits and our desires. Creativeness is not a continuous state, it is new from moment to moment, it is a movement in which there is not the `me', the `mine', in which the thought is not focused on any particular experience, ambition, achievement, purpose and motive. It is only when the self is not that there is creativeness - that state of being in which alone there can be reality, the creator of all things. But that state cannot be conceived or imagined, it cannot be formulated or copied, it cannot be attained through any system, through any philosophy, through any discipline; on the contrary, it comes into being only through understanding the total process of oneself. The understanding of oneself is not a result, a culmination; it is seeing oneself from moment to moment in the mirror of relationship - one's relationship to property, to things, to people and to ideas. But we find it difficult to be alert, to be aware, and we prefer to dull our minds by following a method, by accepting authorities, superstitions and gratifying theories; so our minds become weary, exhausted and insensitive. Such a mind cannot be in a state of creativeness. That state of creativeness comes only when the self, which is the process of recognition and accumulation, ceases to be; because, after all, consciousness as the `me' is the centre of recognition, and recognition is merely the process of the accumulation of experience. But we are all afraid to be nothing, because we all want to be something. The little man wants to be a big man, the unvirtuous wants to be virtuous, the weak and obscure crave power, position and authority. This is the incessant activity of the mind. Such a mind cannot be quiet and therefore can never understand the state of creativeness. In order to transform the world about us, with its misery, wars, unemployment, starvation, class divisions and utter confusion, there must be a transformation in ourselves. The revolution must begin within oneself - but not according to any belief or ideology, because revolution based on an idea, or in conformity to a particular pattern, is obviously no revolution at all. To bring about a fundamental revolution in oneself one must understand the whole process of one's thought and feeling in relationship. That is the only solution to all our problems - not to have more disciplines, more beliefs, more ideologies and more teachers. If we can understand ourselves as we are from moment to moment without the process of accumulation, then we shall see how there comes a tranquillity that is not a product of the mind, a tranquillity that is neither imagined nor cultivated; and only in that state of tranquillity can there be creativeness. THE FIRST AND LAST FREEDOM CHAPTER 5 'ACTION AND IDEA' I SHOULD LIKE TO discuss the problem of action. This may be rather abstruse and difficult at the beginning but I hope that by thinking it over we shall be able to see the issue clearly, because our whole existence, our whole life, is a process of action. Most of us live in a series of actions, of seemingly unrelated, disjointed actions, leading to disintegration, to frustration. It is a problem that concerns each one of us, because we live by action and without action there is no life, there is no experience, there is no thinking. Thought is action; and merely to pursue action at one particular level of consciousness, which is the outer, merely to be caught up in outward action without understanding the whole process of action itself, will inevitably lead us to frustration, to misery. Our life is a series of actions or a process of action at different levels of consciousness. Consciousness is experiencing, naming and recording. That is consciousness is challenge and response, which is experiencing, then terming or naming, and then recording, which is memory. This process is action, is it not? Consciousness is action; and without challenge, response, without experiencing, naming or terming, without recording, which is memory, there is no action. Now action creates the actor. That is the actor comes into being when action has a result, an end in view. If there is no result in action, then there is no actor; but if there is an end or a result in view, then action brings about the actor. Thus actor, action, and end or result, is a unitary process, a single process, which comes into being when action has an end in view. Action towards a result is will; otherwise there is no will, is there? The desire to achieve an end brings about will, which is the actor - I want to achieve, I want to write a book, I want to be a rich man, I want to paint a picture. We are familiar with these three states: the actor, the action, and the end. That is our daily existence. I am just explaining what is; but we will begin to understand how to transform what is only when we examine it clearly, so that there is no illusion or prejudice, no bias with regard to it. Now these three states which constitute experience - the actor, the action, and the result - are surely a process of becoming. Otherwise there is no becoming, is there? If there is no actor, and if there is no action towards an end, there is no becoming; but life as we know it, our daily life, is a process of becoming. I am poor and I act with an end in view, which is to become rich. I am ugly and I want to become beautiful. Therefore my life is a process of becoming something. The will to be is the will to become, at different levels of consciousness, in different states, in which there is challenge, response, naming and recording. Now this becoming is strife, this becoming is pain, is it not? It is a constant struggle: I am this, and I want to become that. Therefore, then, the problem is: Is there not action without this becoming? Is there not action without this pain, without this constant battle? If there is no end, there is no actor because action with an end in view creates the actor. But can there be action without an end in view, and therefore no actor - that is without the desire for a result? Such action is not a becoming, and therefore not a strife. There is a state of action, a state of experiencing, without the experiencer and the experience. This sounds rather philosophical but it is really quite simple. In the moment of experiencing, you are not aware of yourself as the experiencer apart from the experience; you are in a state of experiencing. Take a very simple example: you are angry. In that moment of anger there is neither the experiencer nor the experience; there is only experiencing. But the moment you come out of it, a split second after the experiencing, there is the experiencer and the experience, the actor and the action with an end in view - which is to get rid of or to suppress the anger. We are in this state repeatedly, in the state of experiencing; but we always come out of it and give it a term, naming and recording it, and thereby giving continuity to becoming. If we can understand action in the fundamental sense of the word then that fundamental understanding will affect our superficial activities also; but first we must understand the fundamental nature of action. Now is action brought about by an idea? Do you have an idea first and act afterwards? Or does action come first and then, because action creates conflict, you build around it an idea? Does action create the actor or does the actor come first? It is very important to discover which comes first. If the idea comes first, then action merely conforms to an idea, and therefore it is no longer action but imitation, compulsion according to an idea. It is very important to realize this; because, as our society is mostly constructed on the intellectual or verbal level, the idea comes first with all of us and action follows. Action is then the handmaid of an idea, and the mere construction of ideas is obviously detrimental to action. Ideas breed further ideas, and when there is merely the breeding of ideas there is antagonism, and society becomes top-heavy with the intellectual process of ideation. Our social structure is very intellectual; we are cultivating the intellect at the expense of every other factor of our being and therefore we are suffocated with ideas. Can ideas ever produce action, or do ideas merely mould thought and therefore limit action? When action is compelled by an idea, action can never liberate man. It is extraordinarily important for us to understand this point. If an idea shapes action, then action can never bring about the solution to our miseries because, before it can be put into action, we have first to discover how the idea comes into being. The investigation of ideation, of the building up of ideas, whether of the socialists, the capitalists, the communists, or of the various religions, is of the utmost importance, especially when our society is at the edge of a precipice, inviting another catastrophe, another excision. Those who are really serious in their intention to discover the human solution to our many problems must first understand this process of ideation. What do we mean by an idea? How does an idea come into being? And can idea and action be brought together? Suppose I have an idea and I wish to carry it out. I seek a method of carrying out that idea, and we speculate, waste our time and energies in quarrelling over how the idea should be carried out. So, it is really very important to find out how ideas come into being; and after discovering the truth of that we can discuss the question of action. Without discussing ideas, merely to find out how to act has no meaning. Now how do you get an idea - a very simple idea, it need not be philosophical, religious or economic? Obviously it is a process of thought, is it not? Idea is the outcome of a thought process. Without a thought process, there can be no idea. So I have to understand the thought process itself before I can understand its product, the idea. What do we mean by thought ? When do you think? Obviously thought is the result of a response, neurological or psychological, is it not? It is the immediate response of the senses to a sensation, or it is psychological, the response of stored-up memory. There is the immediate response of the nerves to a sensation, and there is the psychological response of stored-up memory, the influence of race, group, guru, family, tradition, and so on - all of which you call thought. So the thought process is the response of memory, is it not? You would have no thoughts if you had no memory; and the response of memory to a certain experience brings the thought process into action. Say, for example, I have the stored-up memories of nationalism, calling myself a Hindu. That reservoir of memories of past responses actions, implications, traditions, customs, responds to the challenge of a Mussulman, a Buddhist or a Christian, and the response of memory to the challenge inevitably brings about a thought process. Watch the thought process operating in yourself and you can test the truth of this directly. You have been insulted by someone, and that remains in your memory; it forms part of the background. When you meet the person, which is the challenge, the response is the memory of that insult. So the response of memory, which is the thought process, creates an idea; therefore the idea is always conditioned - and this is important to understand. That is to say the idea is the result of the thought process, the thought process is the response of memory, and memory is always conditioned. Memory is always in the past, and that memory is given life in the present by a challenge. Memory has no life in itself; it comes to life in the present when confronted by a challenge. And all memory, whether dormant or active, is conditioned, is it not? Therefore there has to be quite a different approach. You have to find out for yourself, inwardly, whether you are acting on an idea, and if there can be action without ideation. Let us find out what that is: action which is not based on an idea. When do you act without ideation? When is there an action which is not the result of experience? An action based on experience is, as we said, limiting, and therefore a hindrance. Action which is not the outcome of an idea is spontaneous when the thought process, which is based on experience, is not controlling action; which means that there is action independent of experience when the mind is not controlling action. That is the only state in which there is understanding: when the mind, based on experience, is not guiding action: when thought, based on experience, is not shaping action. What is action, when there is no thought process? Can there be action without thought process? That is I want to build a bridge, a house. I know the technique, and the technique tells me how to build it. We call that action. There is the action of writing a poem, of painting, of governmental responsibilities, of social, environmental responses. All are based on an idea or previous experience, shaping action. But is there an action when there is no ideation? Surely there is such action when the idea ceases; and the idea ceases only when there is love. Love is not memory. Love is not experience. Love is not the thinking about the person that one loves, for then it is merely thought. You cannot think of love. You can think of the person you love or are devoted to - your guru, your image, your wife, your husband; but the thought, the symbol, is not the real which is love. Therefore love is not an experience. When there is love there is action, is there not?, and is that action not liberating? It is not the result of mentation, and there is no gap between love and action, as there is between idea and action. Idea is always old, casting its shadow on the present and we are ever trying to build a bridge between action and idea. When there is love - which is not mentation, which is not ideation, which is not memory, which is not the outcome of an experience, of a practised discipline - then that very love is action. That is the only thing that frees. So long as there is mentation, so long as there is the shaping of action by an idea which is experience, there can be no release; and so long as that process continues, all action is limited. When the truth of this is seen, the quality of love, which is not mentation, which you cannot think about, comes into being. One has to be aware of this total process, of how ideas come into being, how action springs from ideas, and how ideas control action and therefore limit action, depending on sensation. It doesn't matter whose ideas they are, whether from the left or from the extreme right. So long as we cling to ideas, we are in a state in which there can be no experiencing at all. Then we are merely living in the field of time in the past, which gives further sensation, or in the future, which is another form of sensation. It is only when the mind is free from idea that there can be experiencing. Ideas are not truth; and truth is something that must be experienced directly, from moment to moment. It is not an experience which you want - which is then merely sensation. Only when one can go beyond the bundle of ideas - which is the `me', which is the mind, which has a partial or complete continuity -only when one can go beyond that, when thought is completely silent, is there a state of experiencing. Then one shall know what truth is. THE FIRST AND LAST FREEDOM CHAPTER 6 'BELIEF' BELIEF AND KNOWLEDGE are very intimately related to desire; and perhaps, if we can understand these two issues, we can see how desire works and understand its complexities. One of the things, it seems to me, that most of us eagerly accept and take for granted is the question of beliefs. I am not attacking beliefs. What we are trying to do is to find out why we accept beliefs; and if we can understand the motives, the causation of acceptance, then perhaps we may be able not only to understand why we do it, but also be free of it. One can see how political and religious beliefs, national and various other types of beliefs, do separate people, do create conflict, confusion, and antagonism -which is an obvious fact; and yet we are unwilling to give them up. There is the Hindu belief the Christian belief, the Buddhist -innumerable sectarian and national beliefs, various political ideologies, all contending with each other, trying to convert each other. One can see, obviously, that belief is separating people, creating intolerance; is it possible to live without belief? One can find that out only if one can study oneself in relationship to a bel1ef. Is it possible to live in this world without a belief - not change beliefs, not substitute one belief for another, but be entirely free from all beliefs, so that one meets life anew each minute? This, after all, is the truth: to have the capacity of meeting everything anew, from moment to moment, without the conditioning reaction of the past, so that there is not the cumulative effect which acts as a barrier between oneself and that which is. If you consider, you will see that one of the reasons for the desire to accept a belief is fear. If we had no belief, what would happen to us? Shouldn't we be very frightened of what might happen? If we had no pattern of action, based on a belief - either in God, or in communism, or in socialism, or in imperialism, or in some kind of religious formula, some dogma in which we are conditioned - we should feel utterly lost, shouldn't we? And is not this acceptance of a belief the covering up of that fear - the fear of being really nothing, of being empty? After all, a cup is useful only when it is empty; and a mind that is filled with beliefs, with dogmas, with assertions, with quotations, is really an uncreative mind; it is merely a repetitive mind. To escape from that fear - that fear of emptiness, that fear of loneliness, that fear of stagnation, of not arriving, not succeeding, not achieving, not being something, not becoming something - is surely one of the reasons, is it not?, why we accept beliefs so eagerly and greedily. And, through acceptance of belief, do we understand ourselves? On the contrary. A belief, religious or political, obviously hinders the understanding of ourselves. It acts as a screen through which we are looking at ourselves. And can we look at ourselves without beliefs? If we remove those beliefs, the many beliefs that one has, is there anything left to look at? If we have no beliefs with which the mind has identified itself, then the mind, without identification, is capable of looking at itself as it is - and then, surely, there is the beginning of the understanding of oneself. It is really a very interesting problem, this question of belief and knowledge. What an extraordinary part it plays in our life! How many beliefs we have! Surely the more intellectual, the more cultured, the more spiritual, if I can use that word, a person is, the less is his capacity to understand. The savages have innumerable superstitions, even in the modern world. The more thoughtful, the more awake, the more alert are perhaps the less believing. That is because belief binds, belief isolates; and we see that is so throughout the world, the economic and the political world, and also in the so-called spiritual world. You believe there is God, and perhaps I believe that there is no God; or you believe in the complete state control of everything and of every individual, and I believe in private enterprise and all the rest of it; you believe that there is only one Saviour and through him you can achieve your goal, and I don't believe so. Thus you with your belief and I with mine are asserting ourselves. Yet we both talk of love, of peace, of unity of mankind, of one life - which means absolutely nothing; because actually the very belief is a process of isolation. You are a Brahmin, I a non-Brahmin; you are a Christian, I a Mussulman, and so on. You talk of brotherhood and I also talk of the same brotherhood, love and peace; but in actuality we are separated, we are dividing ourselves. A man who wants peace and who wants to create a new world, a happy world, surely cannot isolate himself through any form of belief. Is that clear? It may be verbally, but, if you see the significance and validity and the truth of it, it will begin to act. We see that where there is a process of desire at work there must be the process of isolation through belief because obviously you believe in order to be secure economically, spiritually, and also inwardly. I am not talking of those people who believe for economic reasons, because they are brought up to depend on their jobs and therefore will be Catholics, Hindus - it does not matter what - as long as there is a job for them. We are also not discussing those people who cling to a belief for the sake of convenience. Perhaps with most of us it is equally so. For convenience, we believe in certain things. Brushing aside these economic reasons, we must go more deeply into it. Take the people who believe strongly in anything, economic, social or spiritual; the process behind it is the psychological desire to be secure, is it not? And then there is the desire to continue. We are not discussing here whether there is or there is not continuity; we are only discussing the urge, the constant impulse to believe. A man of peace, a man who would really understand the whole process of human existence, cannot be bound by a belief, can he? He sees his desire at work as a means to being secure. Please do not go to the other side and say that I am preaching non-religion. That is not my point at all. My point is that as long as we do not understand the process of desire in the form of belief, there must be contention, there must be conflict, there must be sorrow, and man will be against man -which is seen every day. So if I perceive, if I am aware, that this process takes the form of belief, which is an expression of the craving for inward security, then my problem is not that I should believe this or that but that I should free myself from the desire to be secure. Can the mind be free from the desire for security? That is the problem - not what to believe and how much to believe. These are merely expressions of the inward craving to be secure psychologically, to be certain about something, when everything is so uncertain in the world. Can a mind, can a conscious mind, can a personality be free from this desire to be secure? We want to be secure and therefore need the aid of our estates, our property and our family. We want to be secure inwardly and also spiritually by erecting walls of belief, which are an indication of this craving to be certain. Can you as an individual be free from this urge, this craving to be secure, which expresses itself in the desire to believe in something? If we are not free of all that, we are a source of contention; we are not peacemaking; we have no love in our hearts. Belief destroys; and this is seen in our everyday life. Can I see myself when I am caught in this process of desire, which expresses itself in clinging to a belief? Can the mind free itself from belief - not find a substitute for it but be entirely free from it? You cannot verbally answer "yes" or "no" to this; but you can definitely give an answer if your intention is to become free from belief. You then inevitably come to the point at which you are seeking the means to free yourself from the urge to be secure. Obviously there is no security inwardly which, as you like to believe, will continue. You like to believe there is a God who is carefully looking after your petty little things, telling you whom you should see, what you should do and how you should do it. This is childish and immature thinking. You think the Great Father is watching every one of us. That is a mere projection of your own personal liking. It is obviously not true. Truth must be something entirely different. Our next problem is that of knowledge. Is knowledge necessary to the understanding of truth? When I say "I know", the implication is that there is knowledge. Can such a mind be capable of investigating and searching out what is reality? And besides, what is it we know, of which we are so proud? Actually what is it we know? We know information; we are full of information and experience based on our conditioning, our memory and our capacities. When you say "I know", what do you mean? Either the acknowledgement that you know is the recognition of a fact, of certain information, or it is an experience that you have had. The constant accumulation of information, the acquisition of various forms of knowledge, all constitutes the assertion "I know", and you start translating what you have read, according to your background, your desire, your experience. Your knowledge is a thing in which a process similar to the process of desire is at work. Instead of belief we substitute knowledge. "I know, I have had experience, it cannot be refuted; my experience is that, on that I completely rely; these are indications of that knowledge. But when you go behind it, analyse it, look at it more intelligently and carefully, you will find that the very assertion "I know" is another wall separating you and me. Behind that wall you take refuge, seeking comfort, security. Therefore the more knowledge a mind is burdened with, the less capable it is of understanding. I do not know if you have ever thought of this problem of acquiring knowledge - whether knowledge does ultimately help us to love, to be free from those qualities which produce conflict in ourselves and with our neighbours; whether knowledge ever frees the mind of ambition. Because ambition is, after all, one of the qualities that destroy relationship, that put man against man. If we would live at peace with each other surely ambition must completely come to an end - not only political, economic, social ambition, but also the more subtle and pernicious ambition, the spiritual ambition - to be something. Is it ever possible for the mind to be free from this accumulating process of knowledge, this desire to know? It is a very interesting thing to watch how in our life these two, knowledge and belief, play an extraordinarily powerful part. Look how we worship those who have immense knowledge and erudition! Can you understand the meaning of it? If you would find something new, experience something which is not a projection of your imagination, your mind must be free, must it not? It must be capable of seeing something new. Unfortunately, every time you see something new you bring in all the information known to you already, all your knowledge, all your past memories; and obviously you become incapable of looking, incapable of receiving anything that is new, that is not of the old. Please don't immediately translate this into detail. If I do not know how to get back to my house, I shall be lost; if I do not know how to run a machine, I shall be of little use. That is quite a different thing. We are not discussing that here. We are discussing knowledge that is used as a means to security, the psychological and inward desire to be something. What do you get through knowledge? The authority of knowledge, the weight of knowledge, the sense of importance, dignity, the sense of vitality and what-not? A man who says "I know", "There is`' or "There is not" surely has stopped thinking, stopped pursuing this whole process of desire. Our problem then, as I see it, is that we are bound, weighed down by belief, by knowledge; and is it possible for a mind to be free from yesterday and from the beliefs that have been acquired through the process of yesterday? Do you understand the question? Is it possible for me as an individual and you as an individual to live in this society and yet be free from the belief in which we have been brought up? Is it possible for the mind to be free of all that knowledge, all that authority? We read the various scriptures, religious books. There they have very carefully described what to do, what not to do, how to attain the goal, what the goal is and what God is. You all know that by heart and you have pursued that. That is your knowledge, that is what you have acquired, that is what you have learnt; along that path you pursue. Obviously what you pursue and seek, you will find. But is it reality? is it not the projection of your own knowledge? It is not reality. Is it possible to realize that now - not tomorrow, but now - and say "I see the truth of it", and let it go, so that your mind is not crippled by this process of imagination, of projection? Is the mind capable of freedom from belief? You can only be free from it when you understand the inward nature of the causes that make you hold on to it, not only the conscious but the unconscious motives as well, that make you believe. After all, we are not merely a superficial entity functioning on the conscious level. We can find out the deeper conscious and unconscious activities if we give the unconscious mind a chance, because it is much quicker in response than the conscious mind. While your conscious mind is quietly thinking, listening and watching, the unconscious mind is much more active, much more alert and much more receptive; it can, therefore, have an answer. Can the mind which has been subjugated, intimidated, forced, compelled to believe, can such a mind be free to think? Can it look anew and remove the process of isolation between you and another? Please do not say that belief brings people together. It does not. That is obvious. No organized religion has ever done that. Look at yourselves in your own country. You are all believers, but are you all together? Are you all united? You yourselves know you are not. You are divided into so many petty little parties, castes; you know the innumerable divisions. The process is the same right through the world - whether in the east or in the west - Christians destroying Christians, murdering each other for petty little things, driving people into camps and so on, the whole horror of war. Therefore belief does not unite people. That is so clear. If that is clear and that is true, and if you see it, then it must be followed. But the difficulty is that most of us do not see, because we are not capable of facing that inward insecurity, that inward sense of being alone. We want something to lean on, whether it is the State, whether it is the caste, whether it is nationalism, whether it is a Master or a Saviour or anything else. And when we see the falseness of all this, the mind then is capable - it may be temporally for a second - of seeing the truth of it; even though when it is too much for it, it goes back. But to see temporarily is sufficient; if you can see it for a fleeting second, it is enough; because you will then see an extraordinary thing taking place. The unconscious is at work, though the conscious may reject. It is not a progressive second; but that second is the only thing, and it will have its own results, even in spite of the conscious mind struggling against it. So our question is:Is it possible for the mind to be free from knowledge and belief?" Is not the mind made up of knowledge and belief? Is not the structure of the mind belief and knowledge? Belief and knowledge are the processes of recognition, the centre of the mind. The process is enclosing, the process is conscious as well as unconscious. Can the mind be free of its own structure? Can the mind cease to be? That is the problem. Mind, as we know it, has belief behind it, has desire, the urge to be secure, knowledge, and accumulation of strength. If, with all its power and superiority, one cannot think for oneself there can be no peace in the world. You may talk about peace, you may organize political parties, you may shout from the housetops; but you cannot have peace; because in the mind is the very basis which creates contradiction, which isolates and separates. A man of peace, a man of earnestness, cannot isolate himself and yet talk of brotherhood and peace. It is just a game, political or religious, a sense of achievement and ambition. A man who is really earnest about this, who wants to discover, has to face the problem of knowledge and belief; he has to go behind it, to discover the whole process of desire at work, the desire to be secure, the desire to be certain. A mind that would be in a state in which the new can take place - whether it be the truth, whether it be God, or what you will - must surely cease to acquire, to gather; it must put aside all knowledge. A mind burdened with knowledge cannot possibly understand, surely, that which is real, which is not measurable. THE FIRST AND LAST FREEDOM CHAPTER 7 'EFFORT' FOR MOST OF US, our whole life is based on effort, some kind of volition. We cannot conceive of an action without volition, without effort; our life is based on it. Our social, economic and so-called spiritual life is a series of efforts, always culminating in a certain result. And we think effort is essential, necessary. Why do we make effort? Is it not, put simply, in order to achieve a result, to become something, to reach a goal? If we do not make an effort, we think we shall stagnate. We have an idea about the goal towards which we are constantly striving; and this striving has become part of our life. If we want to alter ourselves, if we want to bring about a radical change in ourselves, we make a tremendous effort to eliminate the old habits, to resist the habitual environmental influences and so on. So we are used to this series of efforts in order to find or achieve something, in order to live at all. Is not all such effort the activity of the self? Is not effort self-centred activity? If we make an effort from the centre of the self, it must inevitably produce more conflict, more confusion, more misery. Yet we keep on making effort after effort. Very few of us realize that the self-centred activity of effort does not clear up any of our problems. On the contrary, it increases our confusion and our misery and our sorrow. We know this; and yet we continue hoping somehow to break through this self-centred activity of effort, the action of the will. I think we shall understand the significance of life if we understand what it means to make an effort. Does happiness come through effort? Have you ever tried to be happy? It is impossible, is it not? You struggle to be happy and there is no happiness, is there? Joy does not come through suppression, through control or indulgence. You may indulge but there is bitterness at the end. You may suppress or control, but there is always strife in the hidden. Therefore happiness does not come through effort, nor joy through control and suppression; and still all our life is a series of suppressions, a series of controls, a series of regretful indulgences. Also there is a constant overcoming, a constant struggle with our passions, our greed and our stupidity. So do we not strive, struggle, make effort, in the hope of finding happiness, finding something which will give us a feeling of peace, a sense of love? Yet does love or understanding come by strife? I think it is very important to understand what we mean by struggle, strife or effort. Does not effort mean a struggle to change what is into what is not, or into what it should be or should become? That is we are constantly struggling to avoid facing what is, or we are trying to get away from it or to transform or modify what is. A man who is truly content is the man who understands what is, gives the right significance to what is. That is true contentment; it is not concerned with having few or many possessions but with the understanding of the whole significance of what is; and that can only come when you recognize what is, when you are aware of it, not when you are trying to modify it or change it. So we see that effort is a strife or a struggle to transform that which is into something which you wish it to be. I am only talking about psychological struggle, not the struggle with a physical problem, like engineering or some discovery or transformation which is purely technical. I am only talking of that struggle which is psychological and which always overcomes the technical. You may build with great care a marvellous society, using the infinite knowledge science has given us. But so long as the psychological strife and struggle and battle are not understood and the psychological overtones and currents are not overcome, the structure of society, however marvellously built, is bound to crash, as has happened over and over again. Effort is a distraction from what is. The moment I accept what is there is no struggle. Any form of struggle or strife is an indication of distraction; and distraction, which is effort, must exist so long as psychologically I wish to transform what is into something it is not. First we must be free to see that joy and happiness do not come through effort. Is creation through effort, or is there creation only with the cessation of effort? When do you write, paint or sing? When do you create? Surely when there is no effort, when you are completely open, when on all levels you are in complete communication, completely integrated. Then there is joy and then you begin to sing or write a poem or paint or fashion something. The moment of creation is not born of struggle. Perhaps in understanding the question of creativeness we shall be able to understand what we mean by effort. Is creativeness the outcome of effort, and are we aware in those moments when we are creative? Or is creativeness a sense of total self-forgetfulness, that sense when there is no turmoil, when one is wholly unaware of the movement of thought, when there is only a complete, full, rich being? is that state the result of travail, of struggle, of conflict, of effort? I do not know if you have ever noticed that when you do something easily, swiftly, there is no effort, there is complete absence of struggle; but as our lives are mostly a series of battles, conflicts and struggles, we cannot imagine a life, a state of being, in which strife has fully ceased. To understand the state of being without strife, that state of creative existence, surely one must inquire into the whole problem of effort. We mean by effort the striving to fulfil oneself, to become something, don't we? I am this, and I want to become that; I am not that, and I must become that. In becoming `that', there is strife, there is battle, conflict, struggle. In this struggle we are concerned inevitably with fulfilment through the gaining of an end; we seek self-fulfilment in an object, in a person, in an idea, and that demands constant battle, struggle, the effort to become, to fulfil. So we have taken this effort as inevitable; and I wonder if it is inevitable - this struggle to become something? Why is there this struggle? Where there is the desire for fulfilment, in whatever degree and at whatever level, there must be struggle. Fulfilment is the motive, the drive behind the effort; whether it is in the big executive, the housewife, or a poor man, there is this battle to become, to fulfil, going on. Now why is there the desire to fulfil oneself? Obviously, the desire to fulfil, to become something, arises when there is awareness of being nothing. Because I am nothing, because I am insufficient, empty, inwardly poor, I struggle to become something; outwardly or inwardly I struggle to fulfil myself in a person, in a thing, in an idea. To fill that void is the whole process of our existence. Being aware that we are empty, inwardly poor, we struggle either to collect things outwardly, or to cultivate inward riches. There is effort only when there is an escape from that inward void through action, through contemplation, through acquisition, through achievement, through power, and so on. That is our daily existence. I am aware of my insufficiency, my inward poverty, and I struggle to run away from it or to fill it. This running away, avoiding, or trying to cover up the void, entails struggle, strife, effort. Now if one does not make an effort to run away, what happens? One lives with that loneliness, that emptiness; and in accepting that emptiness one will find that there comes a creative state which has nothing to do with strife, with effort. Effort exists only so long as we are trying to avoid that inward loneliness, emptiness, but when we look at it, observe it, when we accept what is without avoidance, we will find there comes a state of being in which all strife ceases. That state of being is creativeness and it is not the result of strife. But when there is understanding of what is, which is emptiness, inward insufficiency, when one lives with that insufficiency and understands it fully, there comes creative reality, creative intelligence, which alone brings happiness. Therefore action as we know it is really reaction, it is a ceaseless becoming, which is the denial, the avoidance of what is; but when there is awareness of emptiness without choice, without condemnation or justification, then in that understanding of what is there is action, and this action is creative being. You will understand this if you are aware of yourself in action. Observe yourself as you are acting, not only outwardly but see also the movement of your thought and feeling. When you are aware of this movement you will see that the thought process, which is also feeling and action, is based on an idea of becoming. The idea of becom1ng arises only when there is a sense of insecurity, and that sense of insecurity comes when one is aware of the inward void. If you are aware of that process of thought and feeling, you will see that there is a constant battle going on, an effort to change, to modify, to alter what is. This is the effort to become, and becoming is a direct avoidance of what is. Through self-knowledge, through constant awareness, you will find that strife, battle, the conflict of becoming, leads to pain, to sorrow and ignorance. It is only if you are aware of inward insufficiency and live with it without escape, accepting it wholly, that you will discover an extraordinary tranquillity, a tranquillity which is not put together, made up, but a tranquillity which comes with understanding of what is. Only in that state of tranquillity is there creative being. THE FIRST AND LAST FREEDOM CHAPTER 8 'CONTRADICTION' WE SEE CONTRADICTION in us and about us; because we are in contradiction, there is lack of peace in us and therefore outside us. There is in us a constant state of denial and assertion - what we want to be and what we are. The state of contradiction creates conflict and this conflict does not bring about peace - which is a simple, obvious fact. This inward contradiction should not be translated into some kind of philosophical dualism, because that is a very easy escape. That is by saying that contradiction is a state of dualism we think we have solved it - which is obviously a mere convention, a contributory escape from actuality. Now what do we mean by conflict, by contradiction? Why is there a contradiction in me? - this constant struggle to be something apart from what I am. I am this, and I want to be that. This contradiction in us is a fact, not a metaphysical dualism. Metaphysics has no significance in understanding what is. We may discuss, say, dualism, what it is, if it exists, and so on; but of what value is it if we don't know that there is contradiction in us, opposing desires, opposing interests, opposing pursuits? I want to be good and I am not able to be. This contradiction, this opposition in us, must be understood because it creates conflict; and in conflict, in struggle, we cannot create individually. Let us be clear on the state we are in. There is contradiction, so there must be struggle; and struggle is destruction, waste. In that state we can produce nothing but antagonism, strife, more bitterness and sorrow. If we can understand this fully and hence be free of contradiction, then there can be inward peace, which will bring understanding of each other. The problem is this. Seeing that conflict is destructive, wasteful, why is it that in each of us there is contradiction? To understand that, we must go a little further. Why is there the sense of opposing desires? I do not know if we are aware of it in ourselves - this contradiction, this sense of wanting and not wanting, remembering something and trying to forget it in order to find something new. Just watch it. It is very simple and very normal. It is not something extraordinary. The fact is, there is contradiction. Then why does this contradiction arise? What do we mean by contradiction? Does it not imply an impermanent state which is being opposed by another impermanent state? I think I have a permanent desire, I posit in myself a permanent desire and another desire arises which contradicts it; this contradiction brings about conflict, which is waste. That is to say there is a constant denial of one desire by another desire, one pursuit overcoming another pursuit. Now, is there such a thing as a permanent desire ? Surely, all desire is impermanent - not metaphysically, but actually. I want a job. That is I look to a certain job as a means of happiness; and when I get it, I am dissatisfied. I want to become the manager, then the owner, and so on and on, not only in this world, but in the so-called spiritual world - the teacher becoming the principal, the priest becoming the bishop, the pupil becoming the master. This constant becoming, arriving at one state after another, brings about contradiction, does it not? Therefore, why not look at life not as one permanent desire but as a series of fleeting desires always in opposition to each other? Hence the mind need not be in a state of contradiction. If I regard life not as a permanent desire but as a series of temporary desires which are constantly changing, then there is no contradiction. Contradiction arises only when the mind has a fixed point of desire; that is when the mind does not regard all desire as moving, transient, but seizes upon one desire and makes that into a permanency - only then, when other desires arise, is there contradiction. But all desires are in constant movement, there is no fixation of desire. There is no fixed point in desire; but the mind establishes a fixed point because it treats everything as a means to arrive, to gain; and there must be contradiction, conflict, as long as one is arriving. You want to arrive, you want to succeed, you want to find an ultimate God or truth which will be your permanent satisfaction. Therefore you are not seeking truth, you are not seeking God. You are seeking lasting gratification, and that gratification you clothe with an idea, a respectable-sounding word such as God, truth; but actually we are all seeking gratification, and we place that gratification, that satisfaction, at the highest point, calling it God, and the lowest point is drink. So long as the mind is seeking gratification, there is not much difference between God and drink. Socially, drink may be bad; but the inward desire for gratification, for gain, is even more harmful, is it not? If you really want to find truth, you must be extremely honest, not merely at the verbal level but altogether; you must be extraordinarily clear, and you cannot be clear if you are unwilling to face facts. Now what brings about contradiction in each one of us? Surely it is the desire to become something, is it not? We all want to become something: to become successful in the world and, inwardly, to achieve a result. So long as we think in terms of time, in terms of achievement, in terms of position, there must be contradiction. After all, the mind is the product of time. Thought is based on yesterday, on the past; and so long as thought is functioning within the field of time, thinking in terms of the future, of becoming, gaining, achieving, there must be contradiction, because then we are incapable of facing exactly what is. Only in realizing, in understanding, in being choicelessly aware of what is, is there a possibility of freedom from that disintegrating factor which is contradiction. Therefore it is essential, is it not?, to understand the whole process of our thinking, for it is there that we find contradiction. Thought itself has become a contradiction because we have not understood the total process of ourselves; and that understanding is possible only when we are fully aware of our thought, not as an observer operating upon his thought, but integrally and without choice - which is extremely arduous. Then only is there the dissolution of that contradiction which is so detrimental, so painful. So long as we are trying to achieve a psychological result, so long as we want inward security, there must be a contradiction in our life. I do not think that most of us are aware of this contradiction; or, if we are, we do not see its real significance. On the contrary, contradiction gives us an impetus to live; the very element of friction makes us feel that we are alive. The effort, the struggle of contradiction, gives us a sense of vitality. That is why we love wars, that is why we enjoy the battle of frustrations. So long as there is the desire to achieve a result, which is the desire to be psychologically secure, there must be a contradiction; and where there is contradiction, there cannot be a quiet mind. Quietness of mind is essential to understand the whole significance of life. Thought can never be tranquil; thought, which is the product of time, can never find that which is timeless, can never know that which is beyond time. The very nature of our thinking is a contradiction, because we are always thinking in terms of the past or of the future; therefore we are never fully cognizant, fully aware of the present. To be fully aware of the present is an extraordinarily difficult task because the mind is incapable of facing a fact directly without deception. Thought is the product of the past and therefore it can only think in terms of the past or the future; it cannot be completely aware of a fact in the present. So long as thought, which is the product of the past, tries to eliminate contradiction and all the problems that it creates, it is merely pursuing a result, trying to achieve an end, and such thinking only creates more contradiction and hence conflict, misery and confusion in us and, therefore, about us. To be free of contradiction, one must be aware of the present without choice. How can there be choice when you are confronted with a fact? Surely the understanding of the fact is made impossible so long as thought is trying to operate upon the fact in terms of becoming, changing, altering. Therefore self-knowledge is the beginning of understanding; without self-knowledge, contradiction and conflict will continue. To know the whole process, the totality of oneself, does not require any expert, any authority. The pursuit of authority only breeds fear. No expert, no specialist, can show us how to understand the process of the self. One has to study it for oneself. You and I can help each other by talking about it, but none can unfold it for us, no specialist, no teacher, can explore it for us. We can be aware of it only in our relationship - in our relationship to things, to property, to people and to ideas. In relationship we shall discover that contradiction arises when action is approximating itself to an idea. The idea is merely the crystallization of thought as a symbol, and the effort to live up to the symbol brings about a contradiction. Thus, so long as there is a pattern of thought, contradiction will continue; to put an end to the pattern, and so to contradiction, there must be self-knowledge. This understanding of the self is not a process reserved for the few. The self is to be understood in our everyday speech, in the way we think and feel, in the way we look at another. If we can be aware of every thought, of every feeling, from moment to moment, then we shall see that in relationship the ways of the self are understood. Then only is there a possibility of that tranquillity of mind in which alone the ultimate reality can come into being. THE FIRST AND LAST FREEDOM CHAPTER 9 'WHAT IS THE SELF?' Do WE KNOW WHAT we mean by the self? By that, I mean the idea, the memory, the conclusion, the experience, the various forms of nameable and unnameable intentions, the conscious endeavour to be or not to be, the accumulated memory of the unconscious, the racial, the group, the individual, the clan, and the whole of it all, whether it is projected outwardly in action or projected spiritually as virtue; the striving after all this is the self. In it is included the competition, the desire to be. The whole process of that is the self; and we know actually when we are faced with it that it is an evil thing. I am using the word `evil' intentionally, because the self is dividing: the self is self-enclosing: its activities, however noble, are separative and isolating. We know all this. We also know those extraordinary moments when the self is not there, in which there is no sense of endeavour, of effort, and which happens when there is love. It seems to me that it is important to understand how experience strengthens the self. If we are earnest, we should understand this problem of experience. Now what do we mean by experience? We have experience all the time, impressions; and we translate those impressions, and we react or act according to them; we are calculating, cunning, and so on. There is the constant interplay between what is seen objectively and our reaction to it, and interplay between the conscious and the memories of the unconscious. According to my memories, I react to whatever I see, to whatever I feel. In this process of reacting to what I see, what I feel, what I know, what I believe, experience is taking place, is it not? Reaction, response to something seen, is experience. When I see you, I react; the naming of that reaction is experience. If I do not name that reaction it is not an experience. Watch your own responses and what is taking place about you. There is no experience unless there is a naming process going on at the same time. If I do not recognize you, how can I have the experience of meeting you? It sounds simple and right. Is it not a fact? That is if I do not react according to my memories, according to my conditioning, according to my prejudices, how can I know that I have had an experience? Then there is the projection of various desires. I desire to be protected, to have security inwardly; or I desire to have a Master, a guru, a teacher, a God; and I experience that which I have projected; that is I have projected a desire which has taken a form, to which I have given a name; to that I react. It is my projection. It is my naming. That desire which gives me an experience makes me say: "I have experience", "I have met the Master", or "I have not met the Master". You know the whole process of naming an experience. Desire is what you call experience, is it not? When I desire silence of the mind, what is taking place? What happens? I see the importance of having a silent mind, a quiet mind, for various reasons; because the Upanishads have said so, religious scriptures have said so, saints have said it, and also occasionally I myself feel how good it is to be quiet, because my mind is so very chatty all the day. At times I feel how nice, how pleasurable it is to have a peaceful mind, a silent mind. The desire is to experience silence. I want to have a silent mind, and so I ask "How can I get it?" I know what this or that book says about meditation, and the various forms of discipline. So through discipline I seek to experience silence. The self, the `me', has therefore established itself in the experience of silence. I want to understand what is truth; that is my desire, my longing; then there follows my projection of what I consider to be the truth, because I have read lots about it; I have heard many people talk about it; religious scriptures have described it. I want all that. What happens? The very want, the very desire is projected, and I experience because I recognize that projected state. If I did not recognize that state, I would not call it truth. I recognize it and I experience it; and that experience gives strength to the self, to the `me', does it not? So the self becomes entrenched in the experience. Then you say "I know", "the Master exists",'`there is God" or "there is no God; you say that a particular political system is right and all others are not. So experience is always strengthening the `me'. The more you are entrenched in your experience, the more does the self get strengthened. As a result of this, you have a certa1n strength of character, strength of knowledge, of belief, which you display to other people because you know they are not as clever as you are, and because you have the gift of the pen or of speech and you are cunning. Because the self is still acting, so your beliefs, your Masters, your castes, your economic system are all a process of isolation, and they therefore bring contention. You must, if you are at all serious or earnest in this, dissolve this centre completely and not justify it. That is why we must understand the process of experience. Is it possible for the mind, fur the self, not to project, not to desire, not to experience? We see that all experiences of the self are a negation, a destruction, and yet we call them positive action, don't we? That is what we call the positive way of life. To undo this whole process is, to you, negation. Are you right in that? Can we, you and I, as individuals, go to the root of it and understand the process of the self? Now what brings about dissolution of the self? Religious and other groups have offered identification, have they not? "Identify yourself with a larger, and the self disappears", is what they say. But surely identification is still the process of the self; the larger is simply the projection of the `me', which I experience and which therefore strengthens the `me'. All the various forms of discipline, belief and knowledge surely only strengthen the self. Can we find an element which will dissolve the self? Or is that a wrong question? That is what we want basically. We want to find something which will dissolve the `me', do we not? We think there are various means, namely, identification, belief, etc; but all of them are at the same level; one is not superior to the other, because all of them are equally powerful in strengthening the self the `me'. So can I see the `me' wherever it functions, and see its destructive forces and energy? Whatever name I may give to it, it is an isolating force, it is a destructive force, and I want to find a way of dissolving it. You must have asked this yourself - "I see the `I' functioning all the time and always bringing anxiety, fear, frustration, despair, misery, not only to myself but to all around me. Is it possible for that self to be dissolved, not partially but completely?" Can we go to the root of it and destroy it? That is the only way of truly functioning, is it not? I do not want to be partially intelligent but intelligent in an integrated manner. Most of us are intelligent in layers, you probably in one way and I in some other way. Some of you are intelligent in your business work, some others in your office work, and so on; people are intelligent in different ways; but we are not integrally intelligent. To be integrally intelligent means to be without the self. Is it possible? Is it possible for the self to be completely absent now? You know it is possible. What are the necessary ingredients, requirements? What is the element that brings it about? Can I find it? When I put that question "Can I find it?" surely I am convinced that it is possible; so I have already created an experience in which the self is going to be strengthened, is it not? Understanding of the self requires a great deal of intelligence, a great deal of watchfulness, alertness, watching ceaselessly, so that it does not slip away. I, who am very earnest, want to dissolve the self. When I say that, I know it is possible to dissolve the self. The moment I say;I want to dissolve this", in that there is still the experiencing of the self; and so the self is strengthened. So how is it possible for the self not to experience? One can see that the state of creation is not at all the experience of the self Creation is when the self is not there, because creation is not intellectual, is not of the mind, is not self-projected, is something beyond all experiencing. So is it possible for the mind to be quite still, in a state of non-recognition, or non-experiencing, to be in a state in which creation can take place, which means when the self is not there, when the self is absent? The problem is this, is it not? Any movement of the mind, positive or negative, is an experience which actually strengthens the `me'. Is it possible for the mind not to recognize? That can only take place when there is complete silence, but not the silence which is an experience of the self and which therefore strengthens the self. Is there an entity apart from the self which looks at the self and dissolves the self? Is there a spiritual entity which supercedes the self and destroys it, which puts it aside? We think there is, don't we? Most religious people think there is such an element. The materialist says, "It is impossible for the self to be destroyed; it can only be conditioned and restrained - politically, economically and socially; we can hold it firmly within a certain pattern and we can break it; and therefore it can be made to lead a high life, a moral life, and not to interfere with anything but to follow the social pattern, and to function merely as a machine". That we know. There are other people, the so-called religious ones - they are not really religious, though we call them so - who say, "Fundamentally, there is such an element. If we can get into touch with it, it will dissolve the self". Is there such an element to dissolve the self? Please see what we are doing. We are forcing the self into a corner. If you allow yourself to be forced into the corner, you will see what will happen. We should like there to be an element which is timeless, which is not of the self, which, we hope, will come and intercede and destroy the self - and which we call God. Now is there such a thing which the mind can conceive? There may be or there may not be; that is not the point. But when the mind seeks a timeless spiritual state which will go into action in order to destroy the self is that not another form of experience which is strengthening the `me'? When you believe, is that not what is actually taking place? When you believe that there is truth, God, the timeless state, immortality, is that not the process of strengthening the self? The self has projected that thing which you feel and believe will come and destroy the self. So, having projected this idea of continuance in a timeless state as a spiritual entity, you have an experience; and such experience only strengthens the self; and therefore what have you done? You have not really destroyed the self but only given it a different name, a different quality; the self is still there, because you have experienced it. Thus our action from the beginning to the end is the same action, only we think it is evolving, growing, becoming more and more beautiful; but, if you observe inwardly, it is the same action going on, the same `me' functioning at different levels with different labels, different names. When you see the whole process, the cunning, extraordinary inventions, the intelligence of the self, how it covers itself up through identification, through virtue, through experience, through belief, through knowledge; when you see that the mind is moving in a circle, in a cage of its own making, what happens? When you are aware of it, fully cognizant of it, then are you not extraordinarily quiet - not through compulsion, not through any reward, not through any fear? When you recognize that every movement of the mind is merely a form of strengthening the self when you observe it, see it, when you are completely aware of it in action, when you come to that point - not ideologically, verbally, not through projected experiencing, but when you are actually in that state - then you will see that the mind, being utterly still, has no power of creating. Whatever the mind creates is in a circle, within the field of the self. When the mind is non-creating there is creation, which is not a recognizable process. Reality, truth, is not to be recognized. For truth to come, belief, knowledge, experiencing, the pursuit of virtue - all this must go. The virtuous person who is conscious of pursuing virtue can never find reality. He may be a very decent person; but that is entirely different from being a man of truth, a man who understands. To the man of truth, truth has come into being. A virtuous man is a righteous man, and a righteous man can never understand what is truth because virtue to him is the covering of the self the strengthening of the self because he is pursuing virtue. When he says "I must be without greed", the state of non-greed which he experiences only strengthens the self. That is why it is so important to be poor, not only in the things of the world but also in belief and in knowledge. A man with worldly riches or a man rich in knowledge and belief will never know anything but darkness, and will be the centre of all mischief and misery. But if you and I, as individuals, can see this whole working of the self, then we shall know what love is. I assure you that is the only reformation which can possibly change the world. Love is not of the self. Self cannot recognize love. You say "I love; but then, in the very saying of it, in the very experiencing of it, love is not. But, when you know love, self is not. When there is love, self is not. THE FIRST AND LAST FREEDOM CHAPTER 10 'FEAR' WHAT IS FEAR? Fear can exist only in relation to something, not in isolation. How can I be afraid of death, how can I be afraid of something I do not know? I can be afraid only of what I know. When I say I am afraid of death, am I really afraid of the unknown, which is death, or am I afraid of losing what I have known? My fear is not of death but of losing my association with things belonging to me. My fear is always in relation to the known, not to the unknown. My inquiry now is how to be free from the fear of the known, which is the fear of losing my family, my reputation, my character, my bank account, my appetites and so on. You may say that fear arises from conscience; but your conscience is formed by your conditioning, so conscience is still the result of the known. What do I know? Knowledge is having ideas, having opinions about things, having a sense of continuity as in relation to the known, and no more. Ideas are memories, the result of experience, which is response to challenge. I am afraid of the known, which means I am afraid of losing people, things or ideas, I am afraid of discovering what I am, afraid of being at a loss, afraid of the pain which might come into being when I have lost or have not gained or have no more pleasure. There is fear of pain. Physical pain is a nervous response, but psychological pain arises when I hold on to things that give me satisfaction, for then I am afraid of anyone or anything that may take them away from me. The psychological accumulations prevent psychological pain as long as they are undisturbed; that is I am a bundle of accumulations, experiences, which prevent any serious form of disturbance - and I do not want to be disturbed. Therefore I am afraid of anyone who disturbs them. Thus my fear is of the known, I am afraid of the accumulations, physical or psychological, that I have gathered as a means of warding off pain or preventing sorrow. But sorrow is in the very process of accumulating to ward off psychological pain. Knowledge also helps to prevent pain. As medical knowledge helps to prevent physical pain, so beliefs help to prevent psychological pain, and that is why I am afraid of losing my beliefs, though I have no perfect knowledge or concrete proof of the reality of such beliefs. I may reject some of the traditional beliefs that have been foisted on me because my own experience gives me strength, confidence, understanding; but such beliefs and the knowledge which I have acquired are basically the same - a means of warding off pain. Fear exists so long as there is accumulation of the known, which creates the fear of losing. Therefore fear of the unknown is really fear of losing the accumulated known. Accumulation invariably means fear, which in turn means pain; and the moment I say "I must not lose" there is fear. Though my intention in accumulating is to ward off pain, pain is inherent in the process of accumulation. The very things which I have create fear, which is pain. The seed of defence brings offence. I want physical security; thus I create a sovereign government, which necessitates armed forces, which means war, which destroys security. Wherever there is a desire for self-protection, there is fear. When I see the fallacy of demanding security I do not accumulate any more. If you say that you see it but you cannot help accumulating, it is because you do not really see that, inherently, in accumulation there is pain. Fear exists in the process of accumulation and belief in something is part of the accumulative process. My son dies, and I believe in reincarnation to prevent me psychologically from having more pain; but, in the very process of believing, there is doubt. Outwardly I accumulate things, and bring war; inwardly I accumulate beliefs, and bring pain. So long as I want to be secure, to have bank accounts, pleasures and so on, so long as I want to become something, physiologically or psychologically, there must be pain. The very things I am doing to ward off pain bring me fear, pain. Fear comes into being when I desire to be in a particular pattern. To live without fear means to live without a particular pattern. When I demand a particular way of living that in itself is a source of fear. My difficulty is my desire to live in a certain frame. Can I not break the frame? I can do so only when I see the truth: that the frame is causing fear and that this fear is strengthening the frame. If I say I must break the frame because I want to be free of fear, then I am merely following another pattern which will cause further fear. Any action on my part based on the desire to break the frame will only create another pattern, and therefore fear. How am I to break the frame without causing fear, that is without any conscious or unconscious action on my part with regard to it? This means that I must not act, I must make no movement to break the frame. What happens to me when I am simply looking at the frame without doing anything about it? I see that the mind itself is the frame, the pattern; it lives in the habitual pattern which it has created for itself. Therefore, the mind itself is fear. Whatever the mind does goes towards strengthening an old pattern or furthering a new one. This means that whatever the mind does to get rid of fear causes fear. Fear finds various escapes. The common variety is identification, is it not? - identification with the country, with the society, with an idea. Haven't you noticed how you respond when you see a procession, a military procession or a religious procession, or when the country is in danger of being invaded? You then identify yourself with the country, with a being, with an ideology. There are other times when you identify yourself with your child, with your wife, with a particular form of action, or inaction. Identification is a process of self-forgetfulness. So long as I am conscious of the `me' I know there is pain, there is struggle, there is constant fear. But if I can identify myself with something greater, with something worth while, with beauty, with life, with truth, with belief, with knowledge, at least temporarily, there is an escape from the `me', is there not? If I talk about "my country" I forget myself temporarily, do I not? If I can say something about God, I forget myself? If I can identify myself with my family, with a group, with a particular party, with a certain ideology, then there is a temporary escape. Identification therefore is a form of escape from the self, even as virtue is a form of escape from the self. The man who pursues virtue is escaping from the self and he has a narrow mind. That is not a virtuous mind, for virtue is something which cannot be pursued. The more you try to become virtuous, the more strength you give to the self, to the `me'. Fear, which is common to most of us in different forms, must always find a substitute and must therefore increase our struggle. The more you are identified with a substitute, the greater the strength to hold on to that for which you are prepared to struggle, to die, because fear is at the back. Do we now know what fear is? Is it not the non-acceptance of what is? We must understand the word `acceptance'. I am not using that word as meaning the effort made to accept. There is no question of accepting when I perceive what is. When I do not see clearly what is, then I bring in the process of acceptance. Therefore fear is the non-acceptance of what is. How can I, who am a bundle of all these reactions, responses, memories, hopes, depressions, frustrations, who am the result of the movement of consciousness blocked, go beyond? Can the mind, without this blocking and hindrance, be conscious? We know, when there is no hindrance, what extraordinary joy there is. Don't you know when the body is perfectly healthy there is a certain joy, well-being; and don't you know when the mind is completely free, without any block, when the centre of recognition as the`me' is not there, you experience a certain joy? Haven't you experienced this state when the self is absent? Surely we all have. There is understanding and freedom from the self only when I can look at it completely and integrally as a whole; and I can do that only when I understand the whole process of all activity born of desire which is the very expression of thought - for thought is not different from desire - without justifying it, without condemning it, without suppressing it; if I can understand that, then I shall know if there is the possibility of going beyond the restrictions of the self. THE FIRST AND LAST FREEDOM CHAPTER 11 'SIMPLICITY' I WOULD LIKE To discuss what is simplicity, and perhaps from that arrive at the discovery of sensitivity. We seem to think that simplicity is merely an outward expression, a withdrawal: having few possessions, wearing a loincloth, having no home, putting on few clothes, having a small bank account. Surely that is not simplicity. That is merely an outward show. It seems to me that simplicity is essential; but simplicity can come into being only when we begin to understand the significance of self-knowledge. Simplicity is not merely adjustment to a pattern. It requires a great deal of intelligence to be simple and not merely conform to a particular pattern, however worthy outwardly. Unfortunately most of us begin by being simple externally, in outward things. It is comparatively easy to have few things and to be satisfied with few things; to be content with little and perhaps to share that little with others. But a mere outward expression of simplicity in things, in possessions, surely does not imply the simplicity of inward being. Because, as the world is at present, more and more things are being urged upon us, outwardly, externally. Life is becoming more and more complex. In order to escape from that, we try to renounce or be detached from things - from cars, from houses, from organizations, from cinemas, and from the innumerable circumstances outwardly thrust upon us. We think we shall be simple by withdrawing. A great many saints, a great many teachers, have renounced the world; and it seems to me that such a renunciation on the part of any of us does not solve the problem. Simplicity which is fundamental, real, can only come into being inwardly; and from that there is an outward expression. How to be simple, then, is the problem; because that simplicity makes one more and more sensitive. A sensitive mind, a sensitive heart, is essential, for then it is capable of quick perception, quick reception. One can be inwardly simple, surely, only by understanding the innumerable impediments, attachments, fears, in which one is held. But most of us like to be held - by people, by possessions, by ideas. We like to be prisoners. Inwardly we are prisoners, though outwardly we seem to be very simple. Inwardly we are prisoners to our desires, to our wants, to our ideals, to innumerable motivations. Simplicity cannot be found unless one is free inwardly. Therefore it must begin inwardly, not outwardly. There is an extraordinary freedom when one understands the whole process of belief, why the mind is attached to a belief. When there is freedom from beliefs, there is simplicity. But that simplicity requires intelligence, and to be intelligent one must be aware of one's own impediments. To be aware, one must be constantly on the watch, not established in any particular groove, in any particular pattern of thought or action. After all, what one is inwardly does affect the outer. Society, or any form of action, is the projection of ourselves, and without transforming inwardly mere legislation has very little significance outwardly; it may bring about certain reforms, certain adjustments, but what one is inwardly always overcomes the outer. If one is inwardly greedy, ambitious, pursuing certain ideals, that inward complexity does eventually upset, overthrow outward society, however carefully planned it may be. Therefore one must begin within - not exclusively, not rejecting the outer. You come to the inner, surely, by understanding the outer, by finding out how the conflict, the struggle, the pain, exists outwardly; as one investigates it more and more, naturally one comes into the psychological states which produce the outward conflicts and miseries. The outward expression is only an indication of our inward state, but to understand the inward state one must approach through the outer. Most of us do that. In understanding the inner - not exclusively, not by rejecting the outer, but by understanding the outer and so coming upon the inner - we will find that, as we proceed to investigate the inward complexities of our being, we become more and more sensitive, free. It is this inward simplicity that is so essential, because that simplicity creates sensitivity. A mind that is not sensitive, not alert, not aware, is incapable of any receptivity, any creative action. Conformity as a means of making ourselves simple really makes the mind and heart dull, insensitive. Any form of authoritarian compulsion, imposed by the government, by oneself, by the ideal of achievement, and so on - any form of conformity must make for insensitivity, for not being simple inwardly. Outwardly you may conform and give the appearance of simplicity, as so many religious people do. They practise various disciplines, join various organizations, meditate in a particular fashion, and so on - all giving an appearance of simplicity, but such conformity does not make for simplicity. Compulsion of any kind can never lead to simplicity. On the contrary, the more you suppress, the more you substitute, the more you sublimate, the less there is simplicity, but the more you understand the process of sublimation, suppression, substitution, the greater the possibility of being simple. Our problems - social, environmental, political, religious - are so complex that we can solve them only by being simple, not by becoming extraordinarily erudite and clever. A simple person sees much more directly, has a more direct experience, than the complex person. Our minds are so crowded with an infinite knowledge of facts, of what others have said, that we have become incapable of being simple and having direct experience ourselves. These problems demand a new approach; and they can be so approached only when we are simple, inwardly really simple. That simplicity comes only through self-knowledge, through understanding ourselves; the ways of our thinking and feeling; the movements of our thoughts; our responses; how we conform, through fear, to public opinion, to what others say, what the Buddha, the Christ, the great saints have said - all of which indicates our nature to conform, to be safe, to be secure. When one is seeking security, one is obviously in a state of fear and therefore there is no simplicity. Without being simple, one cannot be sensitive - to the trees, to the birds, to the mountains, to the wind, to all the things which are going on about us in the world; if one is not simple one cannot be sensitive to the inward intimation of things. Most of us live so superficially, on the upper level of our consciousness; there we try to be thoughtful or intelligent, which is synonymous with being religious; there we try to make our minds simple, through compulsion, through discipline. But that is not simplicity. When we force the upper mind to be simple, such compulsion only hardens the mind, does not make the mind supple, clear, quick. To be simple in the whole, total process of our consciousness is extremely arduous; because there must be no inward reservation, there must be an eagerness to find out, to inquire into the process of our being, which means to be awake to every intimation, to every hint; to be aware of our fears, of our hopes, and to investigate and to be free of them more and more and more. Only then, when the mind and the heart are really simple, not encrusted, are we able to solve the many problems that confront us. Knowledge is not going to solve our problems. You may know, for example, that there is reincarnation, that there is a continuity after death. You may know, I don't say you do; or you may be convinced of it. But that does not solve the problem. Death cannot be shelved by your theory, or by information, or by conviction. It is much more mysterious, much deeper, much more creative than that. One must have the capacity to investigate all these things anew; because it is only through direct experience that our problems are solved, and to have direct experience there must be simplicity, which means there must be sensitivity. A mind is made dull by the weight of knowledge. A mind is made dull by the past, by the future. Only a mind that is capable of adjusting itself to the present, continually, from moment to moment, can meet the powerful influences and pressures constantly put upon us by our environment. Thus a religious man is not really one who puts on a robe or a loincloth, or lives on one meal a day, or has taken innumerable vows to be this and not to be that, but is he who is inwardly simple, who is not becoming anything. Such a mind is capable of extraordinary receptivity, because there is no barrier, there is no fear, there is no going towards something; therefore it is capable of receiving grace, God, truth, or what you will. But a mind that is pursuing reality is not a simple mind. A mind that is seeking out, searching, groping, agitated, is not a simple mind. A mind that conforms to any pattern of authority, inward or outward, cannot be sensitive. And it is only when a mind is really sensitive, alert, aware of all its own happenings, responses, thoughts, when it is no longer becoming, is no longer shaping itself to be something - only then is it capable of receiving that which is truth. It is only then that there can be happiness, for happiness is not an end - it is the result of reality. When the mind and the heart have become simple and therefore sensitive - not through any form of compulsion, direction, or imposition - then we shall see that our problems can be tackled very simply. However complex our problems, we shall be able to approach them freshly and see them differently. That is what is wanted at the present time: people who are capable of meeting this outward confusion, turmoil, antagonism anew, creatively, simply - not with theories nor formulas, either of the left or of the right. You cannot meet it anew if you are not simple. A problem can be solved only when we approach it thus. We cannot approach it anew if we are thinking in terms of certain patterns of thought, religious, political or otherwise. So we must be free of all these things, to be simple. That is why it is so important to be aware, to have the capacity to understand the process of our own thinking, to be cognizant of ourselves totally; from that there comes a simplicity, there comes a humility which is not a virtue or a practice. Humility that is gained ceases to be humility. A mind that makes itself humble is no longer a humble mind. It is only when one has humility, not a cultivated humility, that one is able to meet the things of life that are so pressing, because then one is not important, one doesn't look through one's own pressures and sense of importance; one looks at the problem for itself and then one is able to solve it. THE FIRST AND LAST FREEDOM CHAPTER 12 'AWARENESS' TO KNOW OURSELVES means to know our relationship with the world - not only with the world of ideas and people, but also with nature, with the things we possess. That is our life - life being relationship to the whole. Does the understanding of that relationship demand specialization? Obviously not. What it demands is awareness to meet life as a whole. How is one to be aware? That is our problem. How is one to have that awareness - if I may use this word without making it mean specialization? How is one to be capable of meeting life as a whole? - which means not only personal relationship with your neighbour but also with nature, with the things that you possess, with ideas, and with the things that the mind manufactures as illusion, desire and so on. How is one to be aware of this whole process of relationship? Surely that is our life, is it not? There is no life without relationship; and to understand this relationship does not mean isolation. On the contrary, it demands a full recognition or awareness of the total process of relationship. How is one to be aware? How are we aware of anything? How are you aware of your relationship with a person? How are you aware of the trees, the call of a bird? How are you aware of your reactions when you read a newspaper? Are we aware of the superficial responses of the mind, as well as the inner responses? How are we aware of anything? First we are aware, are we not?, of a response to a stimulus, which is an obvious fact; I see the trees, and there is a response, then sensation, contact, identification and desire. That is the ordinary process, isn't it? We can observe what actually takes place, without studying any books. So through identification you have pleasure and pain. And our `capacity' is this concern with pleasure and the avoidance of pain, is it not? If you are interested in something, if it gives you pleasure, there is `capacity' immediately; there is an awareness of that fact immediately; and if it is painful the `capacity' is developed to avoid it. So long as we are looking to `capacity' to understand ourselves, I think we shall fail; because the understanding of ourselves does not depend on capacity. It is not a technique that you develop, cultivate and increase through time, through constantly sharpening. This awareness of oneself can be tested, surely, in the action of relationship; it can be tested in the way we talk, the way we behave. Watch yourself without any identification, without any comparison, without any condemnation; just watch, and you will see an extraordinary thing taking place. You not only put an end to an activity which is unconscious - because most of our activities are unconscious - you not only bring that to an end, but, further, you are aware of the motives of that action, without inqui1y, without digging into it. When you are aware, you see the whole process of your thinking and action; but it can happen only when there is no condemnation. When I condemn something, I do not understand it, and it is one way of avoiding any kind of understanding. I think most of us do that purposely; we condemn immediately and we think we have understood. If we do not condemn but regard it, are aware of it, then the content, the significance of that action begins to open up. Experiment with this and you will see for yourself. Just be aware - without any sense of justification - which may appear rather negative but is not negative. On the contrary, it has the quality of passivity which is direct action; and you will discover this, if you experiment with it. After all, if you want to understand something, you have to be in a passive mood, do you not? You cannot keep on thinking about it, speculating about it or questioning it. You have to be sensitive enough to receive the content of it. It is like being a sensitive photographic plate. If I want to understand you, I have to be passively aware; then you begin to tell me all your story. Surely that is not a question of capacity or specialization. In that process we begin to understand ourselves - not only the superficial layers of our consciousness, but the deeper, which is much more important; because there are all our motives and intentions, our hidden, confused demands, anxieties, fears, appetites. Outwardly we may have them all under control but inwardly they are boiling. Until those have been completely understood through awareness, obviously there cannot be freedom, there cannot be happiness, there is no intelligence. Is intelligence a matter of specialization? - intelligence being the total awareness of our process. And is that intelligence to be cultivated through any form of specialization? Because that is what is happening, is it not? The priest, the doctor, the engineer, the industrialist, the business man, the professor - we have the mentality of all that specialization. To realize the highest form of intelligence - which is truth, which is God, which cannot be described - to realize that, we think we have to make ourselves specialists. We study, we grope, we search out; and, with the mentality of the specialist or looking to the specialist, we study ourselves in order to develop a capacity which will help to unravel our conflicts, our miseries. Our problem is, if we are at all aware, whether the conflicts and the miseries and the sorrows of our daily existence can be solved by another; and if they cannot, how is it possible for us to tackle them? To understand a problem obviously requires a certain intelligence, and that intelligence cannot be derived from or cultivated through specialization. It comes into being only when we are passively aware of the whole process of our consciousness, which is to be aware of ourselves without choice, without choosing what is right and what is wrong. When you are passively aware, you will see that out of that passivity - which is not idleness, which is not sleep, but extreme alertness - the problem has quite a different significance; which means there is no longer identification with the problem and therefore there is no judgement and hence the problem begins to reveal its content. If you are able to do that constantly, continuously, then every problem can be solved fundamentally, not superficially. That is the difficulty, because most of us are incapable of being passively aware, letting the problem tell the story without our interpreting it. We do not know how to look at a problem dispassionately. We are not capable of it, unfortunately, because we want a result from the problem, we want an answer, we are looking to an end; or we try to translate the problem according to our pleasure or pain; or we have an answer already on how to deal with the problem. Therefore we approach a problem, which is always new, with the old pattern. The challenge is always the new, but our response is always the old; and our difficulty is to meet the challenge adequately, that is fully. The problem is always a problem of relationship - with things, with people or with ideas; there is no other problem; and to meet the problem of relationship, with its constantly varying demands - to meet it rightly, to meet it adequately - one has to be aware passively. This passivity is not a question of determination, of will, of discipline; to be aware that we are not passive is the beginning. To be aware that we want a particular answer to a particular problem - surely that is the beginning: to know ourselves in relationship to the problem and how we deal with the problem. Then as we begin to know ourselves in relationship to the problem - how we respond, what are our various prejudices, demands, pursuits, in meeting that problem - this awareness will reveal the process of our own thinking, of our own inward nature; and in that there is a release. What is important, surely, is to be aware without choice, because choice brings about conflict. The chooser is in confusion, therefore he chooses; if he is not in confusion, there is no choice. Only the person who is confused chooses what he shall do or shall not do. The man who is clear and simple does not choose; what is, is. Action based on an idea is obviously the action of choice and such action is not liberating; on the contrary, it only creates further resistance, further conflict, according to that conditioned thinking. The important thing, therefore, is to be aware from moment to moment without accumulating the experience which awareness brings; because, the moment you accumulate, you are aware only according to that accumulation, according to that pattern, according to that experience. That is your awareness is conditioned by your accumulation and therefore there is no longer observation but merely translation. Where there is translation, there is choice, and choice creates conflict; in conflict there can be no understanding. Life is a matter of relationship; and to understand that relationship, which is not static, there must be an awareness which is pliable, an awareness which is alertly passive, not aggressively active. As I said, this passive awareness does not come through any form of discipline, through any practice. It is to be just aware, from moment to moment, of our thinking and feeling, not only when we are awake; for we shall see, as we go into it more deeply, that we begin to dream, that we begin to throw up all kinds of symbols which we translate as dreams. Thus we open the door into the hidden, which becomes the known; but to find the unknown, we must go beyond the door - surely, that is our difficulty. Reality is not a thing which is knowable by the mind, because the mind is the result of the known, of the past; therefore the mind must understand itself and its functioning, its truth, and only then is it possible for the unknown to be. THE FIRST AND LAST FREEDOM CHAPTER 13 'DESIRE' FOR MOST OF us, desire is quite a problem: the desire for property, for position, for power, for comfort, for immortality, for continuity, the desire to be loved, to have something permanent, satisfying, lasting, something which is beyond time. Now, what is desire? What is this thing that is urging, compelling us? I am not suggesting that we should be satisfied with what we have or with what we are, which is merely the opposite of what we want. We are trying to see what desire is, and if we can go into it tentatively, hesitantly, I think we shall bring about a transformation which is not a mere substitution of one object of desire for another object of desire. This is generally what we mean by `change', is it not? Being dissatisfied with one particular object of desire, we find a substitute for it. We are everlastingly moving from one object of desire to another which we consider to be higher, nobler, more refined; but, however refined, desire is still desire, and in this movement of desire there is endless struggle, the conflict of the opposites. Is it not, therefore, important to find out what is desire and whether it can be transformed? What is desire? Is it not the symbol and its sensation? Desire is sensation with the object of its attainment. Is there desire without a symbol and its sensation? Obviously not. The symbol may be a picture, a person, a word, a name, an image, an idea which gives me a sensation, which makes me feel that I like or dislike it; if the sensation is pleasurable, I want to attain, to possess, to hold on to its symbol and continue in that pleasure. From time to time, according to my inclinations and intensities, I change the picture, the image, the object. With one form of pleasure I am fed up, tired, bored, so I seek a new sensation, a new idea, a new symbol. I reject the old sensation and take on a new one, with new words, new significances, new experiences. I resist the old and yield to the new which I consider to be higher, nobler, more satisfying. Thus in desire there is a resistance and a yielding, which involves temptation; and of course in yielding to a particular symbol of desire there is always the fear of frustration. If I observe the whole process of desire in myself I see that there is always an object towards which my mind is directed for further sensation, and that in this process there is involved resistance, temptation and discipline. There is perception, sensation, contact and desire, and the mind becomes the mechanical instrument of this process, in which symbols words, objects are the centre round which all desire, all pursuits, all ambitions are built; that centre is the `me'. Can I dissolve that centre of desire - not one particular desire, one particular appetite or craving, but the whole structure of desire, of longing, hoping, in which there is always the fear of frustration? The more I am frustrated, the more strength I give to the `me'. So long as there is hoping, longing, there is always the background of fear, which again strengthens that centre. And revolution is possible only at that centre, not on the surface, which is merely a process of distraction, a superficial change leading to mischievous action. When I am aware of this whole structure of desire, I see how my mind has become a dead centre, a mechanical process of memory. Having tired of one desire, I automatically want to fulfil myself in another. My mind is always experiencing in terms of sensation, it is the instrument of sensation. Being bored with a particular sensation, I seek a new sensation, which may be what I call the realization of God; but it is still sensation. I have had enough of this world and its travail and I want peace, the peace that is everlasting; so I meditate, control, I shape my mind in order to experience that peace. The experiencing of that peace is still sensation. So my mind is the mechanical instrument of sensation, of memory, a dead centre from which I act, think. The objects I pursue are the projections of the mind as symbols from which it derives sensations. The word `God', the word `love', the word `communism', the word `democracy', the word `nationalism' - these are all symbols which give sensations to the mind, and therefore the mind clings to them. As you and I know, every sensation comes to an end, and so we proceed from one sensation to another; and every sensation strengthens the habit of seeking further sensation. Thus the mind becomes merely an instrument of sensation and memory, and in that process we are caught. So long as the mind is seeking further experience it can only think in terms of sensation; and any experience that may be spontaneous, creative, vital, strikingly new, it immediately reduces to sensation and pursues that sensation, which then becomes a memory. Therefore the experience is dead and the mind becomes merely a stagnant pool of the past. If we have gone into it at all deeply we are familiar with this process; and we seem to be incapable of going beyond. We want to go beyond, because we are tired of this endless routine, this mechanical pursuit of sensation; so the mind projects the idea of truth, or God; it dreams of` a vital change and of playing a principal part in that change, and so on and on and on. Hence there is never a creative state. In myself I see this process of desire going on, which is mechanical, repetitive, which holds the mind in a process of routine and makes of it a dead centre of the past in which there is no creative spontaneity. Also there are sudden moments of creation, of that which is not of the mind, which is not of memory, which is not of sensation or of desire. Our problem, therefore, is to understand desire - not how far it should go or where it should come to an end, but to understand the whole process of desire, the cravings, the longings, the burning appetites. Most of us think that possessing very little indicates freedom from desire - and how we worship those who have but few things! A loincloth, a robe, symbolizes our desire to be free from desire; but that again is a very superficial reaction. Why begin at the superficial level of giving up outward possessions when your mind is crippled with innumerable wants, innumerable desires, beliefs, struggles? Surely it is there that the revolution must take place, not in how much you possess or what clothes you wear or how many meals you eat. But we are impressed by these things because our minds are very superficial. Your problem and my problem is to see whether the mind can ever be free from desire, from sensation. Surely creation has nothing to do with sensation; reality, God, or what you will, is not a state which can be experienced as sensation. When you have an experience, what happens? It has given you a certain sensation, a feeling of elation or depression. Naturally, you try to avoid, put aside, the state of depression; but if it is a joy, a feeling of elation, you pursue it. Your experience has produced a pleasurable sensation and you want more of it; and the `more' strengthens the dead centre of the mind, which is ever craving further experience. Hence the mind cannot experience anything new, it is incapable of experiencing anything new, because its approach is always through memory, through recognition; and that which is recognized through memory is not truth, creation, reality. Such a mind cannot experience reality; it can only experience sensation, and creation is not sensation, it is something that is everlastingly new from moment to moment. Now I realize the state of my own mind; I see that it is the instrument of sensation and desire, or rather that it is sensation and desire, and that it is mechanically caught up in routine. Such a mind is incapable of ever receiving or feeling out the new; for the new must obviously be something beyond sensation, which is always the old. So, this mechanical process with its sensations has to come to an end, has it not? The wanting more, the pursuit of symbols, words, images, with their sensation - all that has to come to an end. Only then is it possible for the mind to be in that state of creativeness in which the new can always come into being. If you will understand without being mesmerized by words, by habits, by ideas, and see how important it is to have the new constantly impinging on the mind, then, perhaps, you will understand the process of desire, the routine, the boredom, the constant craving for experience. Then I think you will begin to see that desire has very little significance in life for a man who is really seeking. Obviously there are certain physical needs: food, clothing, shelter, and all the rest of it. But they never become psychological appetites, things on which the mind builds itself as a centre of desire. Beyond the physical needs, any form of desire - for greatness, for truth, for virtue - becomes a psychological process by which the mind builds the idea of the `me' and strengthens itself at the centre. When you see this process, when you are really aware of it without opposition, without a sense of temptation, without resistance, without justifying or judging it, then you will discover that the mind is capable of receiving the new and that the new is never a sensation; therefore it can never be recognized, re-experienced. It is a state of being in which creativeness comes without invitation, without memory; and that is reality. THE FIRST AND LAST FREEDOM CHAPTER 14 'RELATIONSHIP AND ISOLATION' LIFE IS EXPERIENCE, experience in relationship. One cannot live in isolation, so life is relationship and relationship is action. And how can one have that capacity for understanding relationship which is life? Does not relationship mean not only communion with people but intimacy with things and ideas? Life is relationship, which is expressed through contact with things, with people and with ideas. In understanding relationship we shall have capacity to meet life fully, adequately. So our problem is not capacity - for capacity is not independent of relationship - but rather the understanding of relationship, which will naturally produce the capacity for quick pliability, for quick adjustment, for quick response. Relationship, surely, is the mirror in which you discover yourself. Without relationship you are not; to be is to be related; to be related is existence. You exist only in relationship; otherwise you do not exist, existence has no meaning. It is not because you think you are that you come into existence. You exist because you are related; and it is the lack of understanding of relationship that causes conflict. Now there is no understanding of relationship, because we use relationship merely as a means of furthering achievement, furthering transformation, furthering becoming. But relationship is a means of self-discovery, because relationship is to be; it is existence. Without relationship, I am not. To understand myself, I must understand relationship. Relationship is a mirror in which I can see myself. That mirror can either be distorted, or it can be `as is', reflecting that which is. But most of us see in relationship, in that mirror, things we would rather see; we do not see what is. We would rather idealize, escape, we would rather live in the future than understand that relationship in the immediate present. Now if we examine our life, our relationship with another, we shall see that it is a process of isolation. We are really not concerned with another; though we talk a great deal about it, actually we are not concerned. We are related to someone only so long as that relationship gratifies us, so long as it gives us a refuge, so long as it satisfies us. But the moment there is a disturbance in the relationship which produces discomfort in ourselves, we discard that relationship. In other words, there is relationship only so long as we are gratified. This may sound harsh, but if you really examine your life very closely you will see it is a fact; and to avoid a fact is to live in ignorance, which can never produce right relationship. If we look into our lives and observe relationship, we see it is a process of building resistance against another, a wall over which we look and observe the other; but we always retain the wall and remain behind it, whether it be a psychological wall, a material wall, an economic wall or a national wall. So long as we live in isolation, behind a wall, there is no relationship with another; and we live enclosed because it is much more gratifying, we think it is much more secure. The world is so disruptive, there is so much sorrow, so much pain, war, destruction, misery, that we want to escape and live within the walls of security of our own psychological being. So, relationship with most of us is actually a process of isolation, and obviously such relationship builds a society which is also isolating. That is exactly what is happening throughout the world: you remain in your isolation and stretch your hand over the wall, calling it nationalism, brotherhood or what you will, but actually sovereign governments, armies, continue. Still clinging to your own limitations, you think you can create world unity, world peace - which is impossible. So long as you have a frontier, whether national, economic, religious or social, it is an obvious fact that there cannot be peace in the world. The process of isolation is a process of the search for power; whether one is seeking power individually or for a racial or national group there must be isolation, because the very desire for power, for position, is separatism. After all, that is what each one wants, is it not? He wants a powerful position in which he can dominate, whether at home, in the office, or in a bureaucratic regime. Each one is seeking power and in seeking power he will establish a society which is based on power, military, industrial, economic, and so on - which again is obvious. Is not the desire for power in its very nature isolating? I think it is very important to understand this, because the man who wants a peaceful world, a world in which there are no wars, no appalling destruction, no catastrophic misery on an immeasurable scale must understand this fundamental question, must he not? A man who is affectionate, who is kindly, has no sense of power, and therefore such a man is not bound to any nationality, to any flag. He has no flag. There is no such thing as living in isolation - no country, no people, no individual, can live in isolation; yet, because you are seeking power in so many different ways, you breed isolation. The nationalist is a curse because through his very nationalistic, patriotic spirit, he is creating a wall of isolation. He is so identified with his country that he builds a wall against another. What happens when you build a wall against something? That something is constantly beating against your wall. When you resist something, the very resistance indicates that you are in conflict with the other. So nationalism, which is a process of isolation, which is the outcome of the search for power, cannot bring about peace in the world. The man who is a nationalist and talks of brotherhood is telling a lie; he is living in a state of contradiction. Can one live in the world without the desire for power, for position, for authority? Obviously one can. One does it when one does not identify oneself with something greater. This identification with something greater - the party, the country, the race, the religion, God - is the search for power. Because you in yourself are empty, dull, weak, you like to identify yourself with something greater. That des1re to identify yourself with something greater is the desire for power. Relationship is a process of self-revelation, and, without knowing oneself, the ways of one's own mind and heart, merely to establish an outward order, a system, a cunning formula, has very little meaning. What is important is to understand oneself in relationship with another. Then relationship becomes not a process of isolation but a movement in which you discover your own motives, your own thoughts, your own pursuits; and that very discovery is the beginning of liberation, the beginning of transformation. THE FIRST AND LAST FREEDOM CHAPTER 15 'THE THINKER AND THE THOUGHT' IN ALL OUR experiences, there is always the experiencer, the observer, who is gathering to himself more and more or denying himself. Is that not a wrong process and is that not a pursuit which does not bring about the creative state? If it is a wrong process, can we wipe it out completely and put it aside? That can come about only when I experience, not as a thinker experiences, but when I am aware of the false process and see that there is only a state in which the thinker is the thought. So long as I am experiencing, so long as I am becoming, there must be this dualistic action; there must be the thinker and the thought, two separate processes at work; there is no integration, there is always a centre which is operating through the will of action to be or not to be - collectively, individually, nationally and so on. Universally, this is the process. So long as effort is divided into the experiencer and the experience, there must be deterioration. Integration is only possible when the thinker is no longer the observer. That is, we know at present there are the thinker and the thought, the observer and the observed, the experiencer and the experienced; there are two different states. Our effort is to bridge the two. The will of action is always dualistic. Is it possible to go beyond this will which is separative and discover a state in which this dualistic action is not? That can only be found when we directly experience the state in which the thinker is the thought. We now think the thought is separate from the thinker; but is that so? We would like to think it is, because then the thinker can explain matters through his thought. The effort of the thinker is to become more or become less; and therefore, in that struggle, in that action of the will, in `becoming', there is always the deteriorating factor; we are pursuing a false process and not a true process. Is there a division between the thinker and the thought? So long as they are separate, divided, our effort is wasted; we are pursuing a false process which is destructive and which is the deteriorating factor. We think the thinker is separate from his thought. When I find that I am greedy, possessive, brutal, I think I should not be all this. The thinker then tries to alter his thoughts and therefore effort is made to `become; in that process of effort he pursues the false illusion that there are two separate processes, whereas there is only one process. I think therein lies the fundamental factor of deterioration. Is it possible to experience that state when there is only one entity and not two separate processes, the experiencer and the experience? Then perhaps we shall find out what it is to be creative, and what the state is in which there is no deterioration at any time, in whatever relationship man may be. I am greedy. I and greed are not two different states; there is only one thing and that is greed. If I am aware that I am greedy, what happens? I make an effort not to be greedy, either for sociological reasons or for religious reasons; that effort will always be in a small limited circle; I may extend the circle but it is always limited. Therefore the deteriorating factor is there. But when I look a little more deeply and closely, I see that the maker of effort is the cause of greed and he is greed itself; and I also see that there is no `me' and greed, existing separately, but that there is only greed. If I realize that I am greedy, that there is not the observer who is greedy but I am myself greed, then our whole question is entirely different; our response to it is entirely different; then our effort is not destructive. What will you do when your whole being is greed, when whatever action you do is greed? Unfortunately, we don't think along those lines. There is the `me', the superior entity, the soldier who is controlling, dominating. To me that process is destructive. It is an illusion and we know why we do it. I divide myself into the high and the low in order to continue. If there is only greed, completely, not `I' operating greed, but I am entirely greed, then what happens? Surely then there is a different process at work altogether, a different problem comes into being. It is that problem which is creative, in which there is no sense of `I' dominating, becoming, positively or negatively. We must come to that state if we would be creative. In that state, there is no maker of effort. It is not a matter of verbalizing or of trying to find out what that state is; if you set about it in that way you will lose and you will never find. What is important is to see that the maker of effort and the object towards which he is making effort are the same. That requires enormously great understanding, watchfulness, to see how the mind divides itself into the high and the low - the high being the security, the permanent entity - but still remaining a process of thought and therefore of time. If we can understand this as direct experience, then you will see that quite a different factor comes into being. THE FIRST AND LAST FREEDOM CHAPTER 16 'CAN THINKING SOLVE OUR PROBLEMS?' THOUGHT HAS NOT solved our problems and I don't think it ever will. We have relied on the intellect to show us the way out of our complexity. The more cunning, the more hideous, the more subtle the intellect is, the greater the variety of systems, of theories, of ideas. And ideas do not solve any of our human problems; they never have and they never will. The mind is not the solution; the way of thought is obviously not the way out of our difficulty. It seems to me that we should first understand this process of thinking, and perhaps be able to go beyond - for when thought ceases, perhaps we shall be able to find a way which will help us to solve our problems, not only the individual but also the collective. Thinking has not solved our problems. The clever ones, the philosophers, the scholars, the political leaders, have not really solved any of our human problems - which are the relationship between you and another, between you and myself. So far we have used the mind, the intellect, to help us investigate the problem and thereby are hoping to find a solution. Can thought ever dissolve our problems? Is not thought, unless it is in the laboratory or on the drawing board, always self-protecting, self-perpetuating, conditioned? Is not its activity self-centred? And can such thought ever resolve any of the problems which thought itself has created? Can the mind, which has created the problems, resolve those things that it has itself brought forth? Surely thinking is a reaction. If I ask you a question, you respond to it - you respond according to your memory, to your prejudices, to your upbringing, to the climate, to the whole background of your conditioning; you reply accordingly, you think accordingly. The centre of this background is the `me' in the process of action. So long as that background is not understood, so long as that thought process, that self which creates the problem, is not understood and put an end to, we are bound to have conflict, within and without, in thought, in emotion, in action. No solution of any kind, however clever, however well thought out, can ever put an end to the conflict between man and man, between you and me. Realizing this, being aware of how thought springs up and from what source, then we ask, "Can thought ever come to an end?" That is one of the problems, is it not? Can thought resolve our problems? By thinking over the problem, have you resolved it? Any kind of problem - economic, social, religious - has it ever been really solved by thinking? In your daily life, the more you think about a problem, the more complex, the more irresolute, the more uncertain it becomes. Is that not so? - in our actual, daily life? You may, in thinking out certain facets of the problem, see more clearly another person's point of view, but thought cannot see the completeness and fullness of the problem - it can only see partially and a partial answer is not a complete answer, therefore it is not a solution. The more we think over a problem, the more we investigate, analyse and discuss it, the more complex it becomes. So is it possible to look at the problem comprehensively, wholly? How is this possible? Because that, it seems to me, is our major difficulty. Our problems are being multiplied - there is imminent danger of war, there is every kind of disturbance in our relationships - and how can we understand all that comprehensively, as a whole? Obviously it can be solved only when we can look at it as a whole -not in compartments, not divided. When is that possible? Surely it is only possible when the process of thinking - which has its source in the `me', the self, in the background of tradition, of conditioning, of prejudice, of hope, of despair - has come to an end. Can we understand this self, not by analysing, but by seeing the thing as it is, being aware of it as a fact and not as a theory? - not seeking to dissolve the self in order to achieve a result but seeing the activity of the self, the `me', constantly in action? Can we look at it, without any movement to destroy or to encourage? That is the problem, is it not? If, in each one of us, the centre of the `me' is non-existent, with its desire for power, position, authority, continuance, self-preservation, surely our problems will come to an end! The self is a problem that thought cannot resolve. There must be an awareness which is not of thought. To be aware, without condemnation or justification, of the activities of the self - just to be aware - is sufficient. If you are aware in order to find out how to resolve the problem, in order to transform it, in order to produce a result, then it is still within the field of the self, of the `me'. So long as we are seeking a result, whether through analysis, through awareness, through constant examination of every thought, we are still within the field of thought, which is within the field of the `me', of the `I', of the ego, or what you will. As long as the activity of the mind exists, surely there can be no love. When there is love, we shall have no social problems. But love is not something to be acquired. The mind can seek to acquire it, like a new thought, a new gadget, a new way of thinking; but the mind cannot be in a state of love so long as thought is acquiring love. So long as the mind is seeking to be in a state of non-greed, surely it is still greedy, is it not? Similarly, so long as the mind wishes, desires, and practises in order to be in a state in which there is love, surely it denies that state, does it not? Seeing this problem, this complex problem of living, and being aware of the process of our own thinking and realizing that it actually leads nowhere - when we deeply realize that, then surely there is a state of intelligence which is not individual or collective. Then the problem of the relationship of the individual to society, of the individual to the community, of the individual to reality, ceases; because then there is only intelligence, which is neither personal nor impersonal. It is this intelligence alone, I feel, that can solve our immense problems. That cannot be a result; it comes into being only when we understand this whole total process of thinking, not only at the conscious level but also at the deeper, hidden levels of consciousness. To understand any of these problems we have to have a very quiet mind, a very still mind, so that the mind can look at the problem without interposing ideas or theories, without any distraction. That is one of our difficulties - because thought has become a distraction. When I want to understand, look at something, I don't have to think about it - I look at it. The moment I begin to think, to have ideas, opinions about it, I am already in a state of distraction, looking away from the thing which I must understand. So thought, when you have a problem, becomes a distraction - thought being an idea, opinion, judgement, comparison - which prevents us from looking and thereby understanding and resolving the problem. Unfortunately for most of us thought has become so important. You say, "How can I exist, be, without thinking? How can I have a blank mind ?" To have a blank mind is to be in a state of stupor, idiocy or what you will, and your instinctive reaction is to reject it. But surely a mind that is very quiet, a mind that is not distracted by its own thought, a mind that is open, can look at the problem very directly and very simply. And it is this capacity to look without any distraction at our problems that is the only solution. For that there must be a quiet, tranquil mind. Such a mind is not a result, is not an end product of a practice, of meditation, of control. It comes into being through no form of discipline or compulsion or sublimation, without any effort of the `me', of thought; it comes into being when I understand the whole process of thinking - when I can see a fact without any distraction. In that state of tranquillity of a mind that is really still there is love. And it is love alone that can solve all our human problems. THE FIRST AND LAST FREEDOM CHAPTER 17 'THE FUNCTION OF THE MIND' WHEN YOU OBSERVE your own mind you are observing not only the so-called upper levels of the mind but also watching the unconscious; you are seeing what the mind actually does, are you not? That is the only way you can investigate. Do not superimpose what it should do, how it should think or act and so on; that would amount to making mere statements. That is if you say the mind should be this or should not be that, then you stop all investigation and all thinking; or, if you quote some high authority, then you equally stop thinking, don't you? If you quote Buddha, Christ or XYZ, there is an end to all pursuit, to all thinking and all investigation. So one has to guard against that. You must put aside all these subtleties of the mind if you would investigate this problem of the self together with me. What is the function of the mind? To find that out, you must know what the mind is actually doing. What does your mind do? It is all a process of thinking, is it not? Otherwise, the mind is not there. So long as the mind is not thinking, consciously or unconsciously, there is no consciousness. We have to find out what the mind that we use in our everyday life, and also the mind of which most of us are unconscious, does in relation to our problems. We must look at the mind as it is and not as it should be. Now what is mind as it is functioning? It is actually a process of isolation, is it not? Fundamentally that is what the process of thought is. It is thinking in an isolated form, yet remaining collective. When you observe your own thinking, you will see it is an isolated, fragmentary process. You are thinking according to your reactions, the reactions of your memory of your experience, of your knowledge, of your belief. You are reacting to all that, aren't you? If I say that there must be a fundamental revolution, you immediately react. You will object to that word `revolution' if you have got good investments, spiritual or otherwise. So your reaction is dependent on your knowledge, on your belief, on your experience. That is an obvious fact. There are various forms of reaction. You say "I must be brotherly", "I must co-operate", "I must be friendly", `'I must be kind", and so on. What are these? These are all reactions; but the fundamental reaction of thinking is a process of isolation. You are watching the process of your own mind, each one of you, which means watching your own action, belief, knowledge, experience. All these give security, do they not? They give security, give strength to the process of thinking. That process only strengthens the `me', the mind, the self - whether you call that self high or low. All our religions, all our social sanctions, all our laws are for the support of the individual, the individual self, the separative action; and in opposition to that there is the totalitarian state. If you go deeper into the unconscious, there too it is the same process that is at work. There, we are the collective influenced by the environment, by the climate, by the society, by the father, the mother, the grandfather. There again is the desire to assert, to dominate as an individual, as the me. Is not the function of the mind, as we know it and as we function daily, a process of isolation? Aren't you seeking individual salvation? You are going to be somebody in the future; or in this very life you are going to be a great man, a great writer. Our whole tendency is to be separated. Can the mind do anything else but that? Is it possible for the mind not to think separatively, in a self-enclosed manner, fragmentarily? That is impossible. So we worship the mind; the mind is extraordinarily important. Don't you know, the moment you are a little bit cunning, a little bit alert, and have a little accumulated information and knowledge, how important you become in society? You know how you worship those who are intellectually superior, the lawyers, the professors, the orators, the great writers, the explainers and the expounders! You have cultivated the intellect and the mind. The function of the mind is to be separated; otherwise your mind is not there. Having cultivated this process for centuries we find we cannot co-operate; we can only be urged, compelled, driven by authority, fear, either economic or religious. If that is the actual state, not only consciously but also at the deeper levels, in our motives, our intentions, our pursuits, how can there be cooperation? How can there be intelligent coming together to do something? As that is almost impossible, religions and organized social parties force the individual to certain forms of discipline. Discipline then becomes imperative if we want to come together, to do things together. Until we understand how to transcend this separative thinking, this process of giving emphasis to the `me' and the `mine', whether in the collective form or in individual form, we shall not have peace; we shall have constant conflict and wars. Our problem is how to bring an end to the separative process of thought. Can thought ever destroy the self, thought being the process of verbalization and of reaction? Thought is nothing else but reaction; thought is not creative. Can such thought put an end to itself? That is what we are trying to find out. When I think along these lines: "I must discipline", "I must think more properly", "I must be this or that", thought is compelling itself, urging itself, disciplining itself to be something or not to be something. Is that not a process of isolation? It is therefore not that integrated intelligence which functions as a whole, from which alone there can be co-operation. How are you to come to the end of thought? Or rather how is thought, which is isolated, fragmentary and partial, to come to an end? How do you set about it? Will your so-called discipline destroy it? Obviously, you have not succeeded all these long years, otherwise you would not be here. Please examine the disciplining process, which is solely a thought process, in which there is subjection, repression, control, domination - all affecting the unconscious, which asserts itself later as you grow older. Having tried for such a long time to no purpose, you must have found that discipline is obviously not the process to destroy the self. The self cannot be destroyed through discipline, because discipline is a process of strengthening the self. Yet all your religions support it; all your meditations, your assertions are based on this. Will knowledge destroy the self? Will belief destroy it? In other words, will anything that we are at present doing, any of the activities in which we are at present engaged in order to get at the root of the self, will any of that succeed? Is not all this a fundamental waste in a thought process which is a process of isolation, of reaction? What do you do when you realize fundamentally or deeply that thought cannot end itself? What happens? Watch yourself. When you are fully aware of this fact, what happens? You understand that any reaction is conditioned and that, through conditioning, there can be no freedom either at the beginning or at the end - and freedom is always at the beginning and not at the end. When you realize that any reaction is a form of conditioning and therefore gives continuity to the self in different ways, what actually takes place? You must be very clear in this matter. Belief, knowledge, discipline, experience, the whole process of achieving a result or an end, ambition, becoming something in this life or in a future life - all these are a process of isolation, a process which brings destruction, misery, wars, from which there is no escape through collective action, however much you may be threatened with concentration camps and all the rest of it. Are you aware of that fact? What is the state of the mind which says "It is so", "That is my problem", "That is exactly where I am", "I see what knowledge and discipline can do, what ambition does"? Surely, if you see all that, there is already a different process at work. We see the ways of the intellect but we do not see the way of love. The way of love is not to be found through the intellect. The intellect, with all its ramifications, with all its desires, ambitions, pursuits, must come to an end for love to come into existence. Don't you know that when you love, you co-operate, you are not thinking of yourself? That is the highest form of intelligence - not when you love as a superior entity or when you are in a good position, which is nothing but fear. When your vested interests are there, there can be no love; there is only the process of exploitation, born of fear. So love can come into being only when the mind is not there. Therefore you must understand the whole process of the mind, the function of the mind. It is only when we know how to love each other that there can be co-operation, that there can be intelligent functioning, a coming together over any question. Only then is it possible to find out what God is, what truth is. Now, we are trying to find truth through intellect, through imitation - which is idolatry. Only when you discard completely, through understanding, the whole structure of the self, can that which is eternal, timeless, immeasurable, come into being. You cannot go to it; it comes to you. THE FIRST AND LAST FREEDOM CHAPTER 18 'SELF-DECEPTION' I WOULD LIKE TO discuss or consider the question of self-deception, the delusions that the mind indulges in and imposes upon itself and upon others. That is a very serious matter, especially in a crisis of the kind which the world is facing. But in order to understand this whole problem of self-deception we must follow it not merely at the verbal level but intrinsically, fundamentally, deeply. We are too easily satisfied with words and counter-words; we are worldlywise; and, being worldly-wise, all that we can do is to hope that something will happen. We see that the explanation of war does not stop war; there are innumerable historians, theologians and religious people explaining war and how it comes into being but wars still go on, perhaps more destructive than ever. Those of us who are really earnest must go beyond the word, must seek this fundamental revolution within ourselves. That is the only remedy which can bring about a lasting, fundamental redemption of mankind. Similarly, when we are discussing this kind of self-deception, I think we should guard against any superficial explanations and rejoinders; we should, if I may suggest it, not merely listen to a speaker but follow the problem as we know it in our daily life; that is we should watch ourselves in thinking and in action, watch how we affect others and how we proceed to act from ourselves. What is the reason, the basis, for self-deception? How many of us are actually aware that we are deceiving ourselves? Before we can answer the question "What is self-deception and how does it arise?", must we not be aware that we are deceiving ourselves? Do we know that we are deceiving ourselves? What do we mean by this deception? I think it is very important, because the more we deceive ourselves the greater is the strength in the deception; for it gives us a certain vitality, a certain energy, a certain capacity which entails the imposing of our deception on others. So gradually we are not only imposing deception on ourselves but on others. It is an interacting process of self-deception. Are we aware of this process? We think we are capable of thinking very clearly, purposefully and directly; and are we aware that, in this process of thinking, there is self-deception? Is not thought itself a process of search, a seeking of justification, of security, of self-protection, a desire to be well thought of, a desire to have position, prestige and power? Is not this desire to be, politically, or religio-sociologically, the very cause of self-deception? The moment I want something other than the purely materialistic necessities, do I not produce, do I not bring about, a state which easily accepts? Take, for example, this: many of us are interested to know what happens after death; the older we are, the more interested we are. We want to know the truth of it. How shall we find it? Certainly not by reading nor through the different explanations. How will you find it out? First, you must purge your mind completely of every factor that is in the way - every hope, every desire to continue, every desire to find out what is on that other side. Because the mind is constantly seeking security, it has the desire to continue and hopes for a means of fulfilment, for a future existence. Such a mind, though it is seeking the truth of life after death, reincarnation or whatever it is, is incapable of discovering that truth, is it not? What is important is not whether reincarnation is true or not but how the mind seeks justification, through self-deception, of a fact which may or may not be. What is important is the approach to the problem, with what motivation, with what urge, with what desire you come to it. The seeker is always imposing this deception upon himself; no one can impose it upon him; he himself does it. We create deception and then we become slaves to it. The fundamental factor of self-deception is this constant desire to be something in this world and in the world hereafter. We know the result of wanting to be something in this world; it is utter confusion, where each is competing with the other, each is destroying the other in the name of peace; you know the whole game we play with each other, which is an extraordinary form of self-deception. Similarly, we want security in the other world, a position. So we begin to deceive ourselves the moment there is this urge to be, to become or to achieve. That is a very difficult thing for the mind to be free from. That is one of the basic problems of our life. Is it possible to live in this world and be nothing? Then only is there freedom from all deception, because then only is the mind not seeking a result, the mind is not seeking a satisfactory answer, the mind is not seeking any form of justification, the mind is not seeking security in any form, in any relationship. That takes place only when the mind realizes the possibilities and subtleties of deception and therefore, with understanding, abandons every form of justification, security - which means the mind is capable, then, of being completely nothing. Is that possible? So long as we deceive ourselves in any form, there can be no love. So long as the mind is capable of creating and imposing upon itself a delusion, it obviously separates itself from collective or integrated understanding. That is one of our difficulties; we do not know how to co-operate. All that we know is that we try to work together towards an end which both of us bring into being. There can be co-operation only when you and I have no common aim created by thought. What is important to realize is that cooperation is only possible when you and I do not desire to be anything. When you and I desire to be something, then belief and all the rest of it become necessary, a self-projected Utopia is necessary. But if you and I are anonymously creating, without any self-deception, without any barriers of belief and knowledge, without a desire to be secure, then there is true co-operation. Is it possible for us to co-operate, for us to be together without an end in view? Can you and I work together without seeking a result? Surely that is true co-operation, is it not? If you and I think out, work out, plan out a result and we are working together towards that result, then what is the process involved? Our thoughts, our intellectual minds, are of course meeting; but emotionally, the whole being may be resisting it, which brings about deception, which brings about conflict between you and me. It is an obvious and observable fact in our everyday life. You and I agree to do a certain piece of work intellectually but unconsciously, deeply, you and I are at battle with each other. I want a result to my satisfaction; I want to dominate; I want my name to be ahead of yours, though I am said to be working with you. So we both, who are creators of that plan, are really opposing each other, even though outwardly you and I agree as to the plan. Is it not important to find out whether you and I can co-operate, commune, live together in a world where you and I are as nothing; whether we are able really and truly to co-operate not at the superficial level but fundamentally? That is one of our greatest problems, perhaps the greatest. I identify myself with an object and you identify yourself with the same object; both of us are interested in it; both of us are intending to bring it about. Surely this process of thinking is very superficial, because through identification we bring about separation - which is so obvious in our everyday life. You are a Hindu and I a Catholic; we both preach brotherhood, and we are at each other's throats. Why? That is one of our problems, is it not? Unconsciously and deeply, you have your beliefs and I have mine. By talking about brotherhood, we have not solved the whole problem of beliefs but have only theoretically and intellectually agreed that this should be so; inwardly and deeply, we are against each other. Until we dissolve those barriers which are a self-deception which give us a certain vitality, there can be no co-operation between you and me. Through identification with a group, with a particular idea, with a particular country, we can never bring about co-operation. Belief does not bring about co-operation; on the contrary, it divides. We see how one political party is against another, each believing in a certain way of dealing with economic problems, and so they are all at war with one another. They are not resolved in solving, for instance, the problem of starvation. They are concerned with the theories which are going to solve that problem. They are not actually concerned with the problem itself but with the method by which the problem will be solved. Therefore there must be contention between the two, because they are concerned with the idea and not with the problem. Similarly, religious people are against each other, though verbally they say they have all one life, one God; you know all that. Inwardly their beliefs, their opinions, their experiences are destroying them and are keeping them separate. Experience becomes a dividing factor in our human relationship; experience is a way of deception. If I have experienced something, I cling to it, I do not go into the whole problem of the process of experiencing but, because I have experienced, that is sufficient and I cling to it; thereby I impose, through that experience, self-deception. Our difficulty is that each of us is so identified with a particular belief, with a particular form or method of bringing about happiness, economic adjustment, that our mind is captured by that and we are incapable of going deeper into the problem; therefore we desire to remain aloof individually in our particular ways, beliefs and experiences. Until we dissolve them, through understanding - not only at the superficial level, but at the deeper level also - there can be no peace in the world. That is why it is important for those who are really serious, to understand this whole problem - the desire to become, to achieve, to gain - not only at the superficial level but fundamentally and deeply; otherwise there can be no peace in the world. Truth is not something to be gained. Love cannot come to those who have a desire to hold on to it, or who like to become identified with it. Surely such things come when the mind does not seek, when the mind is completely quiet, no longer creating movements and beliefs upon which it can depend, or from which it derives a certain strength, which is an indication of self-deception. It is only when the mind understands this whole process of desire that it can be still. Only then is the mind not in movement to be or not to be; then only is there the possibility of a state in which there is no deception of any kind. THE FIRST AND LAST FREEDOM CHAPTER 19 'SELF-CENTRED ACTIVITY' MOST OF US, I think, are aware that every form of persuasion, every kind of inducement, has been offered us to resist self-centred activities. Religions, through promises, through fear of hell, through every form of condemnation have tried in different ways to dissuade man from this constant activity that is born from the centre of the `me'. These having failed, political organizations have taken over. There again, persuasion; there again the ultimate utopian hope. Every form of legislation from the very limited to the extreme, including concentration camps, has been used and enforced against any form of resistance. Yet we go on in our self-centred activity, which is the only kind of action we seem to know. If we think about it at all, we try to modify; if we are aware of it, we try to change the course of it; but fundamentally, deeply, there is no transformation, there is no radical cessation of that activity. The thoughtful are aware of this; they are also aware that when that activity from the centre ceases, only then can there be happiness. Most of us take it for granted that self-centred activity is natural and that the consequential action, which is inevitable, can only be modified, shaped and controlled. Now those who are a little more serious, more earnest, not sincere - because sincerity is the way of self-deception - must find out whether, being aware of this extraordinary total process of self-centred activity, one can go beyond. To understand what this self-centred activity is, one must obviously examine it, look at it, be aware of the entire process. If one can be aware of it, then there is the possibility of its dissolution; but to be aware of it requires a certain understanding, a certain intention to face the thing as it is and not to interpret, not to modify, not to condemn it. We have to be aware of what we are doing, of all the activity which springs from that self-centred state; we must be conscious of if it. One of our primary difficulties is that the moment we are conscious of that activity, we want to shape it, we want to control it, we want to condemn it or we want to modify it, so we are seldom able to look at it directly. When we do, very few of us are capable of knowing what to do. We realize that self-centred activities are detrimental, are destructive, and that every form of identification - such as with a country, with a particular group, with a particular desire, the search for a result here or hereafter, the glorification of an idea, the pursuit of an example, the pursuit of virtue and so on - is essentially the activity of a self-centred person. All our relationships, with nature, with people, with ideas, are the outcome of that activity. Knowing all this, what is one to do? All such activity must voluntarily come to an end - not self-imposed, not influenced, not guided. Most of us are aware that this self-centred activity creates mischief and chaos but we are only aware of it in certain directions. Either we observe it in others and are ignorant of our own activities or being aware, in relationship with others, of our own self-centred activity we want to transform, we want to find a substitute, we want to go beyond. Before we can deal with it we must know how this process comes into being, must we not? In order to understand something, we must be capable of looking at it; and to look at it we must know its various activities at different levels, conscious as well as unconscious - the conscious directives, and also the self-centred movements of our unconscious motives and intentions. I am only conscious of this activity of the `me' when I am opposing, when consciousness is thwarted, when the `me' is desirous of achieving a result, am I not? Or I am conscious of that centre when pleasure comes to an end and I want to have more of it; then there is resistance and a purposive shaping of the mind to a particular end which will give me a delight, a satisfaction; I am aware of myself and my activities when I am pursuing virtue consciously. Surely a man who pursues virtue consciously is unvirtuous. Humility cannot be pursued, and that is the beauty of humility. This self-centred process is the result of time, is it not? So long as this centre of activity exists in any direction, conscious or unconscious, there is the movement of time and I am conscious of the past and the present in conjunction with the future. The self-centred activity of the `me' is a time process. It is memory that gives continuity to the activity of the centre, which is the `me'. If you watch yourself and are aware of this centre of activity, you will see that it is only the process of time, of memory, of experiencing and translating every experience accord1ng to a memory; you will also see that self-activity is recognition, which is also the process of the mind. Can the mind be free from all this? It may be possible at rare moments; it may happen to most of us when we do an unconscious, unintentional, unpurposive act; but is it possible for the mind ever to be completely free from self-centred activity? That is a very important question to put to ourselves, because in the very putting of it, you will find the answer. If you are aware of the total process of this self-centred activity, fully cognizant of its activities at different levels of your consciousness, then surely you have to ask yourselves if it is possible for that activity to come to an end. Is it possible not to think in terms of time, not to think in terms of what I shall be, what I have been, what I am ? For from such thought the whole process of self-centred activity begins; there, also, begins the determination to become, the determination to choose and to avoid, which are all a process of time. We see in that process infinite mischief, misery, confusion, distortion, deterioration. Surely the process of time is not revolutionary. In the process of time there is no transformation; there is only a continuity and no ending, there is nothing but recognition. It is only when you have complete cessation of the time process, of the activity of the self, that there is a revolution, a transformation, the coming into being of the new. Being aware of this whole total process of the `me' in its activity, what is the mind to do? It is only with renewal, it is only with revolution - not through evolution, not through the `me' becoming, but through the `me' completely coming to an end - that there is the new. The time process cannot bring the new; time is not the way of creation. I do not know if any of you have had a moment of creativity. I am not talking of putting some vision into action; I mean that moment of creation when there is no recognition. At that moment, there is that extraordinary state in which the `me', as an activity through recognition, has ceased. If we are aware, we shall see that in that state there is no experiencer who remembers, translates, recognizes and then identifies; there is no thought process, which is of time. In that state of creation, of creativity of the new, which is timeless, there is no action of the `me' at all. Our question surely is: Is it possible for the mind to be in that state, not momentarily, not at rare moments, but - I would rather not use the words `everlasting' or `for ever', because that would imply time - but to be in that state without regard to time? Surely that is an important discovery to be made by each one of us, because that is the door to love; all other doors are activities of the self Where there is action of the self, there is no love. Love is not of time. You cannot practise love. If you do, then it is a self-conscious activity of the `me' which hopes through loving to gain a result. Love is not of time; you cannot come upon it through any conscious effort, through any discipline, through identification, which is all of the process of time. The mind, knowing only the process of time, cannot recognize love. Love is the only thing that is eternally new. Since most of us have cultivated the mind, which is the result of time, we do not know what love is. We talk about love; we say we love people, that we love our children, our wife, our neighbour, that we love nature; but the moment we are conscious that we love, self-activity has come into being; therefore it ceases to be love. This total process of the mind is to be understood only through relationship - relationship with nature, with people, with our own projections, with everything about us. Life is nothing but relationship. Though we may attempt to isolate ourselves from relationship, we cannot exist without it. Though relationship is painful we cannot run away, by means of isolation, by becoming a hermit and so on. All these methods are indications of the activity of the self. Seeing this whole picture, being aware of the whole process of time as consciousness, without any choice, without any determined, purposive intention, without the desire for any result, you will see that this process of time comes to an end voluntarily -not induced, not as a result of desire. It is only when that process comes to an end that love is, which is eternally new. We do not have to seek truth. Truth is not something far away. It is the truth about the mind, truth about its activities from moment to moment. If we are aware of this moment-to-moment truth, of this whole process of time, that awareness releases consciousness or the energy which is intelligence, love. So long as the mind uses consciousness as self-activity, time comes into being with all its miseries, with all its conflicts, with all its mischief, its purposive deceptions; and it is only when the mind, understanding this total process, ceases, that love can be. THE FIRST AND LAST FREEDOM CHAPTER 20 'TIME AND TRANSFORMATION' I WOULD LIKE TO TALK a little about what is time, because I think the enrichment, the beauty and significance of that which is timeless, of that which is true, can be experienced only when we understand the whole process of time. After all, we are seeking, each in his own way, a sense of happiness, of enrichment. Surely a life that has significance, the riches of true happiness, is not of time. Like love, such a life is timeless; and to understand that which is timeless, we must not approach it through time but rather understand time. We must not utilize time as a means of attaining, realizing, apprehending the timeless. That is what we are doing most of our lives: spending time in trying to grasp that which is timeless, so it is important to understand what we mean by time, because I think it is possible to be free of time. It is very important to understand time as a whole and not partially. It is interesting to realize that our lives are mostly spent in time - time, not in the sense of chronological sequence, of minutes, hours, days and years, but in the sense of psychological memory. We live by time, we are the result of time. Our minds are the product of many yesterdays and the present is merely the passage of the past to the future. Our minds, our activities, our being, are founded on time; without time we cannot think, because thought is the result of time, thought is the product of many yesterdays and there is no thought without memory. Memory is time; for there are two kinds of time, the chronological and the psychological. There is time as yesterday by the watch and as yesterday by memory. You cannot reject chronological time; it would be absurd - you would miss your train. But is there really any time at all apart from chronological time? Obviously there is time as yesterday but is there time as the mind thinks of it? Is there time apart from the mind? Surely time, psychological time, is the product of the mind. Without the foundation of thought there is no time - time merely being memory as yesterday in conjunction with today, which moulds tomorrow. That is, memory of yesterday's experience in response to the present is creating the future - which is still the process of thought, a path of the mind. The thought process brings about psychological progress in time but is it real, as real as chronological time? And can we use that time which is of the mind as a means of understanding the eternal, the timeless? As I said, happiness is not of yesterday, happiness is not the product of time, happiness is always in the present, a timeless state. I do not know if you have noticed that when you have ecstasy, a creative joy, a series of bright clouds surrounded by dark clouds, in that moment there is no time: there is only the immediate present. The mind, coming in after the experiencing in the present, remembers and wishes to continue it, gathering more and more of itself, thereby creating time. So time is created by the `more; time is acquisition and time is also detachment, which is still an acquisition of the mind. Therefore merely disciplining the mind in time, conditioning thought within the framework of time, which is memory, surely does not reveal that which is timeless. Is transformation a matter of time? Most of us are accustomed to think that time is necessary for transformation: I am something, and to change what I am into what I should be requires time. I am greedy, with greed's results of confusion, antagonism, conflict, and misery; to bring about the transformation, which is non-greed, we think time is necessary. That is to say time is considered as a means of evolving something greater, of becoming something. The problem is this: One is violent, greedy, envious, angry, vicious or passionate. To transform what is, is time necessary? First of all, why do we want to change what is, or bring about a transformation? Why? Because what we are dissatisfies us; it creates conflict, disturbance, and, disliking that state, we want something better, something nobler, more idealistic. Therefore we desire transformation because there is pain, discomfort, conflict. Is conflict overcome by time ? If you say it will be overcome by time, you are still in conflict. You may say it will take twenty days or twenty years to get rid of conflict, to change what you are, but during that time you are still in conflict and therefore time does not bring about transformation. When we use time as a means of acquiring a quality, a virtue or a state of being, we are merely postponing or avoiding what is; and I think it is important to understand this point. greed or violence causes pain, disturbance in the world of our relationship with another, which is society; and being conscious of this state of disturbance, which we term greed or violence, we say to ourselves, "I will get out of it in time. I will practise non-violence, I will practise non-envy, I will practise peace." Now, you want to practise non-violence because violence is a state of disturbance, conflict, and you think that in time you will gain non-violence and overcome the conflict. What is actually happening? Being in a state of conflict you want to achieve a state in which there is no conflict. Now is that state of no conflict the result of time, of a duration? Obviously not; because, while you are achieving a state of non-violence, you are still being violent and are therefore still in conflict. Our problem is, can a conflict, a disturbance, be overcome in a period of time, whether it be days, years or lives? What happens when you say, "I am going to practise non-violence during a certain period of time"? The very practice indicates that you are in conflict, does it not? You would not practise if you were not resisting conflict; you say the resistance to conflict is necessary in order to overcome conflict and for that resistance you must have time. But the very resistance to conflict is itself a form of conflict. You are spending your energy in resisting conflict in the form of what you call greed, envy or violence but your mind is still in conflict, so it is important to see the falseness of the process of depending on time as a means of overcoming violence and thereby be free of that process. Then you are able to be what you are: a psychological disturbance which is violence itself. To understand anything, any human or scientific problem, what is important, what is essential? A quiet mind, is it not?, a mind that is intent on understanding. It is not a mind that is exclusive, that is trying to concentrate - which again is an effort of resistance. If I really want to understand something, there is immediately a quiet state of mind. When you want to listen to music or look at a picture which you love, which you have a feeling for, what is the state of your mind? Immediately there is a quietness, is there not? When you are listening to music, your mind does not wander all over the place; you are listening. Similarly, when you want to understand conflict, you are no longer depending on time at all; you are simply confronted with what is, which is conflict. Then immediately there comes a quietness, a stillness of mind. When you no longer depend on time as a means of transforming what is because you see the falseness of that process, then you are confronted with what is, and as you are interested to understand what is, naturally you have a quiet mind. In that alert yet passive state of mind there is understanding. So long as the mind is in conflict, blaming, resisting, condemning, there can be no understanding. If I want to understand you, I must not condemn you, obviously. It is that quiet mind, that still mind, which brings about transformation. When the mind is no longer resisting, no longer avoiding, no longer discarding or blaming what is but is simply passively aware, then in that passivity of the mind you will find, if you really go into the problem, that there comes a transformation. Revolution is only possible now, not in the future; regeneration is today, not tomorrow. If you will experiment with what I have been saying, you will find that there is immediate regeneration, a newness, a quality of freshness; because the mind is always still when it is interested, when it desires or has the intention to understand. The difficulty with most of us is that we have not the intention to understand, because we are afraid that, if we understood, it might bring about a revolutionary action in our life and therefore we resist. It is the defence mechanism that is at work when we use time or an ideal as a means of gradual transformation. Thus regeneration is only possible in the present, not in the future, not tomorrow. A man who relies on time as a means through which he can gain happiness or realize truth or God is merely deceiving himself; he is living in ignorance and therefore in conflict. A man who sees that time is not the way out of our difficulty and who is therefore free from the false, such a man naturally has the intention to understand; therefore his mind is quiet spontaneously, without compulsion, without practice. When the mind is still, tranquil, not seeking any answer or any solution, neither resisting nor avoiding - it is only then that there can be a regeneration, because then the mind is capable of perceiving what is true; and it is truth that liberates, not your effort to be free. THE FIRST AND LAST FREEDOM CHAPTER 21 'POWER AND REALIZATION' WE SEE THAT A radical change is necessary in society, in ourselves, in our individual and group relationships; how is it to be brought about? If change is through conformity to a pattern projected by the mind, through a reasonable, well studied plan, then it is still within the field of the mind; therefore whatever the mind calculates becomes the end, the vision for which we are willing to sacrifice ourselves and others. If you maintain that, then it follows that we as human beings are merely the creation of the mind, which implies conformity, compulsion, brutality, dictatorships, concentration camps - the whole business. When we worship the mind, all that is implied, is it not? If I realize this, if I see the futility of discipline, of control, if I see that the various forms of suppression only strengthen the `me' and the `mine', then what am I to do? To consider this problem fully we must go into the question of what is consciousness. I wonder if you have thought about it for yourself or have merely quoted what authorities have said about consciousness? I do not know how you have understood from your own experience, from your own study of yourself, what this consciousness implies - not only the consciousness of everyday activity and pursuits but the consciousness that is hidden, deeper, richer and much more difficult to get at. If we are to discuss this question of a fundamental change in ourselves and therefore in the world, and in this change to awaken a certain vision, an enthusiasm, a zeal, a faith, a hope, a certainty which will give us the necessary impetus for action - if we are to understand that, isn't it necessary to go into this question of consciousness? We can see what we mean by consciousness at the superficial level of the mind. Obviously it is the thinking process, thought. Thought is the result of memory, verbalization; it is the naming, recording and storing up of certain experiences, so as to be able to communicate; at this level there are also various inhibitions, controls, sanctions, disciplines. With all this we are quite familiar. When we go a little deeper there are all the accumulations of the race, the hidden motives, the collective and personal ambitions, prejudices, which are the result of perception, contact and desire. This total consciousness, the hidden as well as the open, is centred round the idea of the `me', the self. When we discuss how to bring about a change we generally mean a change at the superficial level, do we not? Through determination, conclusions, beliefs, controls, inhibitions, we struggle to reach a superficial end which we want, which we crave for, and we hope to arrive at that with the help of the unconscious, of the deeper layers of the mind; therefore we think it is necessary to uncover the depths of oneself. But there is everlasting conflict between the superficial levels and the so-called deeper levels - all psychologists, all those who have pursued self-knowledge are fully aware of that. Will this inner conflict bring about a change? Is that not the most fundamental and important question in our daily life: how to bring about a radical change in ourselves? Will mere alteration at the superficial level bring it about? Will understanding the different layers of consciousness, of the `me', uncovering the past, the various personal experiences from childhood up to now, examining in myself the collective experiences of my father, my mother, my ancestors, my race, the conditioning of the particular society in which I live - will the analysis of all that bring about a change which is not merely an adjustment? I feel, and surely you also must feel, that a fundamental change in one's life is essential - a change which is not a mere reaction, which is not the outcome of the stress and strain of environmental demands. How is one to bring about such a change? My consciousness is the sum total of human experience, plus my particular contact with the present; can that bring about a change? Will the study of my own consciousness, of my activities, will the awareness of my thoughts and feelings, stilling the mind in order to observe without condemnation, will that process bring about a change? Can there be change through belief, through identification with a projected image called the ideal? Does not all this imply a certain conflict between what I am and what I should be? Will conflict bring about fundamental change? I am in constant battle within myself and with society, am I not? There is a ceaseless conflict going on between what I am and what I want to be; will this conflict, this struggle bring about a change? I see a change is essential; can I bring it about by examining the whole process of my consciousness, by struggling by disciplining by practising various forms of repression? I feel such a process cannot bring about a radical change. Of that one must be completely sure. And if that process cannot bring about a fundamental transformation, a deep inward revolution, then what will? How are you to bring about true revolution? What is the power, the creative energy that brings about that revolut1on and how is it to be released? You have tried disciplines, you have tried the pursuit of ideals and various speculative theories: that you are God, and that if you can realize that Godhood or experience the Atman, the highest, or what you will, then that very realization will bring about a fundamental change. Will it? First you postulate that there is a reality of which you are a part and build up round it various theories, speculations, beliefs, doctrines, assumptions, according to which you live; by thinking and acting according to that pattern you hope to bring about a fundamental change. Will you? Suppose you assume, as most so-called religious people do, that there is in you, fundamentally, deeply, the essence of reality; and that if, through cultivating virtue, through various forms of discipline, control, suppression, denial, sacrifice, you can get into touch with that reality, then the required transformation will be brought about. Is not this assumption still part of thought? Is it not the outcome of a conditioned mind, a mind that has been brought up to think in a particular way, according to certain patterns? Having created the image, the idea, the theory, the belief, the hope, you then look to your creation to bring about this radical change. One must first see the extraordinarily subtle activities of the `me', of the mind, one must become aware of the ideas, beliefs, speculations and put them all aside, for they are deceptions, are they not? Others may have experienced reality; but if you have not experienced it, what is the good of speculating about it or imagining that you are in essence something real, immortal, godly? That is still within the field of thought and anything that springs from thought is conditioned, is of time, of memory; therefore it is not real. If one actually realizes that - not speculatively, not imaginatively or foolishly, but actually sees the truth that any activity of the mind in its speculative search, in its philosophical groping, any assumption, any imagination or hope is only self-deception - then what is the power, the creative energy that brings about this fundamental transformation? Perhaps, in coming to this point, we have used the conscious mind; we have followed the argument, we have opposed or accepted it, we have seen it clearly or dimly. To go further and experience more deeply requires a mind that is quiet and alert to find out, does it not? It is no longer pursuing ideas because, if you pursue an idea, there is the thinker following what is being said and so you immediately create duality. If you want to go further into this matter of fundamental change, is it not necessary for the active mind to be quiet? Surely it is only when the mind is quiet that it can understand the enormous difficulty, the complex implications of the thinker and the thought as two separate processes, the experiencer and the experienced, the observer and the observed. Revolution, this psychological, creative revolution in which the `me' is not, comes only when the thinker and the thought are one, when there is no duality such as the thinker controlling thought; and I suggest it is this experience alone that releases the creative energy which in turn brings about a fundamental revolution, the breaking up of the psychological `me'. We know the way of power - power through domination, power through discipline, power through compulsion. Through political power we hope to change fundamentally; but such power only breeds further darkness, disintegration evil, the strengthening of the `me'. We are familiar with the various forms of acquisition, both individually and as groups, but we have never tried the way of love, and we don't even know what it means. Love is not possible so long as there is the thinker, the centre of the `me'. Realizing all this, what is one to do? Surely the only thing which can bring about a fundamental change, a creative, psychological release, is everyday watchfulness, being aware from moment to moment of our motives, the conscious as well as the unconscious. When we realize that disciplines, beliefs, ideals only strengthen the `me' and are therefore utterly futile - when we are aware of that from day to day, see the truth of it, do we not to the central point when the thinker is constantly separating himself from his thought, from his observations, from his experiences? So long as the thinker exists apart from his thought, which he is trying to dominate, there can be no fundamental transformation. So long as the `me' is the observer, the one who gathers experience, strengthens himself through experience, there can be no radical change, no creative release. That creative release comes only when the thinker is the thought -but the gap cannot be bridged by any effort. When the mind realizes that any speculation any verbalization, any form of thought only gives strength to the `me', when it sees that as long as the thinker exists apart from thought there must be limitation, the conflict of duality - when the mind realizes that, then it is watchful, everlastingly aware of how it is separating itself from experience, asserting itself, seeking power. In that awareness, if the mind pursues it ever more deeply and extensively without seeking an end, a goal, there comes a state in which the thinker and the thought are one. In that state there is no effort, there is no becoming, there is no desire to change; in that state the `me' is not, for there is a transformation which is not of the mind. It is only when the mind is empty that there is a possibility of creation; but I do not mean this superficial emptiness which most of us have. Most of us are superficially empty, and it shows itself through the desire for distraction. We want to be amused, so we turn to books, to the radio, we run to lectures, to authorities; the mind is everlastingly filling itself. I am not talking of that emptiness which is thoughtlessness. On the contrary, I am talking of the emptiness which comes through extraordinary thoughtfulness, when the mind sees its own power of creating illusion and goes beyond. Creative emptiness is not possible so long as there is the thinker who is waiting, watching, observing in order to gather experience, in order to strengthen himself. Can the mind ever be empty of all symbols, of all words with their sensations, so that there is no experiencer who is accumulating? Is it possible for the mind to put aside completely all the reasonings, the experiences, the impositions, authorities, so that it is in a state of emptiness? You will not be able to answer this question, naturally; it is an impossible question for you to answer, because you do not know, you have never tried. But, if I may suggest, listen to it, let the question be put to you, let the seed be sown; and it will bear fruit if you really listen to it, if you do not resist it. It is only the new that can transform, not the old. If you pursue the pattern of the old, any change is a modified continuity of the old; there is nothing new in that, there is nothing creative. The creative can come into being only when the mind itself is new; and the mind can renew itself only when it is capable of seeing all its own activities, not only at the superficial level, but deep down. When the mind sees its own activities, is aware of its own desires, demands, urges, pursuits, the creation of its own authorities, fears; when it sees in itself the resistance created by discipline, by control, and the hope which projects beliefs, ideals - when the mind sees through, is aware of this whole process, can it put aside all these things and be new, creatively empty? You will find out whether it can or cannot only if you experiment without having an opinion about it, without wanting to experience that creative state. If you want to experience it, you will; but what you experience is not creative emptiness, it is only a projection of desire. If you desire to experience the new, you are merely indulging in illusion; but if you begin to observe, to be aware of your own activities from day to day, from moment to moment, watching the whole process of yourself as in a mirror, then, as you go deeper and deeper, you will come to the ultimate question of this emptiness in which alone there can be the new. Truth, God or what you will, is not something to be experienced, for the experiencer is the result of time, the result of memory, of the past, and so long as there is the experiencer there cannot be reality. There is reality only when the mind is completely free from the analyser, from the experiencer and the experienced. Then you will find the answer, then you will see that the change comes without your asking, that the state of creative emptiness is not a thing to be cultivated - it is there, it comes darkly, without any invitation; only in that state is there a possibility of renewal, newness, revolution. THE FIRST AND LAST FREEDOM QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS QUESTION 1 'ON THE PRESENT CRISIS' Question: You say the present crisis is without precedent. In what way is it exceptional? Krishnamurti: Obviously the present crisis throughout the world is exceptional, without precedent. There have been crises of varying types at different periods throughout history, social, national, political. Crises come and go; economic recessions, depressions, come, get modified, and continue in a different form. We know that; we are familiar with that process. Surely the present crisis is different, is it not? It is different first because we are dealing not with money nor with tangible things but with ideas. The crisis is exceptional because it is in the field of ideation. We are quarrelling with ideas, we are justifying murder; everywhere in the world we are justifying murder as a means to a righteous end, which in itself is unprecedented. Before, evil was recognized to be evil, murder was recognized to be murder, but now murder is a means to achieve a noble result. Murder, whether of one person or of a group of people, is justified, because the murderer, or the group that the murderer represents, justifies it as a means of achieving a result which will be beneficial to man. That is we sacrifice the present for the future - and it does not matter what means we employ as long as our declared purpose is to produce a result which we say will be beneficial to man. Therefore, the implication is that a wrong means will produce a right end and you justify the wrong means through ideation. In the various crises that have taken place before, the issue has been the exploitation of things or of man; it is now the exploitation of ideas, which is much more pernicious, much more dangerous, because the exploitation of ideas is so devastating, so destructive. We have learned now the power of propaganda and that is one of the greatest calamities that can happen: to use ideas as a means to transform man. That is what is happening in the world today. Man is not important - systems, ideas, have become important. Man no longer has any significance. We can destroy millions of men as long as we produce a result and the result is justified by ideas. We have a magnificent structure of ideas to justify evil and surely that is unprecedented. Evil is evil; it cannot bring about good. War is not a means to peace. War may bring about secondary benefits, like more efficient aeroplanes, but it will not bring peace to man. War is intellectually justified as a means of bringing peace; when the intellect has the upper hand in human life, it brings about an unprecedented crisis. There are other causes also which indicate an unprecedented crisis. One of them is the extraordinary importance man is going to sensate values, to property, to name, to caste and country, to the particular label you wear. You are either a Mohammedan or a Hindu, a Christian or a Communist. Name and property, caste and country, have become predominantly important, which means that man is caught in sensate value, the value of things, whether made by the mind or by the hand. Things made by the hand or by the mind have become so important that we are killing, destroying, butchering, liquidating each other because of them. We are nearing the edge of a precipice; every action is leading us there, every political, every economic action is bringing us inevitably to the precipice, dragging us into this chaotic, confusing abyss. Therefore the crisis is unprecedented and it demands unprecedented action. To leave, to step out of that crisis, needs a timeless action, an action which is not based on idea, on system, because any action which is based on a system, on an idea, will inevitably lead to frustration. Such action merely brings us back to the abyss by a different route. As the crisis is unprecedented there must also be unprecedented action, which means that the regeneration of the individual must be instantaneous, not a process of time. It must take place now, not tomorrow; for tomorrow is a process of disintegration. If I think of transforming myself tomorrow I invite confusion, I am still within the field of destruction. Is it possible to change now? Is it possible completely to transform oneself in the immediate, in the now? I say it is. The point is that as the crisis is of an exceptional character to meet it there must be revolution in thinking; and this revolution cannot take place through another, through any book, through any organization. It must come through us, through each one of us. Only then can we create a new society, a new structure away from this horror, away from these extraordinarily destructive forces that are being accumulated, piled up; and that transformation comes into being only when you as an individual begin to be aware of yourself in every thought, action and feeling. THE FIRST AND LAST FREEDOM QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS QUESTION 2 'ON NATIONALISM' Question: What is it that comes when nationalism goes? Krishnamurti: Obviously, intelligence. But I am afraid that is not the implication in this question. The implication is, what can be substituted for nationalism? Any substitution is an act which does not bring intelligence. If I leave one religion and join another, or leave one political party and later on join something else, this constant substitution indicates a state in which there is no intelligence. How does nationalism go? Only by our understanding its full implications, by examining it, by being aware of its significance in outward and inward action. Outwardly it brings about divisions between people, classifications, wars and destruction, which is obvious to anyone who is observant. Inwardly, psychologically, this identification with the greater, with the country, with an idea, is obviously a form of self-expansion. Living in a little village or a big town or whatever it may be, I am nobody; but if I identify myself with the larger, with the country, if I call myself a Hindu, it flatters my vanity, it gives me gratification, prestige, a sense of well-being; and that identification with the larger, which is a psychological necessity for those who feel that self-expansion is essential, also creates conflict, strife, between people. Thus nationalism not only creates outward conflict but inward frustrations; when one understands nationalism, the whole process of nationalism, it falls away. The understanding of nationalism comes through intelligence, by carefully observing, by probing into the whole process of nationalism, patriotism. Out of that examination comes intelligence and then there is no substitution of something else for nationalism. The moment you substitute religion for national1sm, religion becomes another means of self-expansion, another source of psychological anxiety, a means of feeding oneself through a belief. Therefore any form of substitution, however noble, is a form of ignorance. It is like a man substituting chewing gum or betel nut or whatever it is for smoking, whereas if one really understands the whole problem of smoking, of habits, sensations, psychological demands and all the rest of it, then smoking drops away. You can understand only when there is a development of intelligence, when intelligence is functioning, and intelligence is not functioning when there is substitution. Substitution is merely a form of self-bribery, to tempt you not to do this but to do that. Nationalism, with its poison, with its misery and world strife, can disappear only when there is intelligence, and intelligence does not come merely by passing examinations and studying books. Intelligence comes into being when we understand problems as they arise. When there is understanding of the problem at its different levels, not only of the outward part but of its inward, psychological implications, then, in that process, intelligence comes into being. So when there is intelligence there is no substitution; and when there is intelligence, then nationalism, patriotism, which is a form of stupidity, disappears. THE FIRST AND LAST FREEDOM QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS QUESTION 3 'WHY SPIRITUAL TEACHERS?' Question: You say that gurus are unnecessary, but how can I find truth without the wise help and guidance which only a guru can give? Krishnamurti: The question is whether a guru is necessary or not, Can truth be found through another? Some say it can and some say it cannot. We want to know the truth of this, not my opinion as against the opinion of another. I have no opinion in this matter. Either it is so or it is not. Whether it is essential that you should or should not have a guru is not a quest1on of opinion. The truth of the matter is not dependent on opinion, however profound, erudite, popular, universal. The truth of the matter is to be found out, in fact. First of all, why do we want a guru? We say we need a guru because we are confused and the guru is helpful; he will point out what truth is, he will help us to understand, he knows much more about life than we do, he will act as a father, as a teacher to instruct us in life; he has vast experience and we have but little; he will help us through his greater experience and so on and on. That is, basically, you go to a teacher because you are confused. If you were clear, you would not go near a guru. Obviously if you were profoundly happy, if there were no problems, if you understood life completely, you would not go to any guru. I hope you see the significance of this. Because you are confused, you seek out a teacher. You go to him to give you a way of life to clarify your own confusion, to find truth. You choose your guru because you are confused and you hope he will give you what you ask. That is you choose a guru who will satisfy your demand; you choose according to the gratification he will give you and your choice is dependent on your gratification. You do not choose a guru who says, "Depend on yourself; you choose him according to your prejudices. So since you choose your guru according to the gratification he gives you, you are not seeking truth but a way out of confusion; and the way out of confusion is mistakenly called truth. Let us examine first this idea that a guru can clear up our confusion. Can anyone clear up our confusion? - confusion being the product of our responses. We have created it. Do you think someone else has created it - this misery, this battle at all levels of existence, within and without? It is the result of our own lack of knowledge of ourselves. It is because we do not understand ourselves, our conflicts, our responses, our miseries, that we go to a guru whom we think will help us to be free of that confusion. We can understand ourselves only in relationship to the present; and that relationship itself is the guru not someone outside. If I do not understand that relationship, whatever a guru may say is useless, because if I do not understand relationship, my relationship to property, to people, to ideas, who can resolve the conflict within me? To resolve that conflict, I must understand it myself, which means I must be aware of myself in relationship. To be aware, no guru is necessary. If I do not know myself, of what use is a guru? As a political leader is chosen by those who are in confusion and whose choice therefore is also confused, so I choose a guru. I can choose him only according to my confusion; hence he, like the political leader, is confused. What is important is not who is right - whether I am right or whether those are right who say a guru is necessary; to find out why you need a guru is important. Gurus exist for exploitation of various kinds, but that is irrelevant. It gives you satisfaction if someone tells you how you are progressing, but to find out why you need a guru - there lies the key. Another can point out the way but you have to do all the work, even if you have a guru. Because you do not want to face that, you shift the responsibility to the guru. The guru becomes useless when there is a particle of self-knowledge. No guru, no book or scripture, can give you self-knowledge: it comes when you are aware of yourself in relationship. To be, is to be related; not to understand relationship is misery, strife. Not to be aware of your relationship to property is one of the causes of confusion. If you do not know your right relationship to property there is bound to be conflict, which increases the conflict in society. If you do not understand the relationship between yourself and your wife, between yourself and your child, how can another resolve the conflict arising out of that relationship? Similarly with ideas, beliefs and so on. Being confused in your relationship with people, with property, with ideas, you seek a guru. If he is a real guru, he will tell you to understand yourself. You are the source of all misunderstanding and confusion; and you can resolve that conflict only when you understand yourself in relationship. You cannot find truth through anybody else. How can you? Truth is not something static; it has no fixed abode; it is not an end, a goal. On the contrary, it is living, dynamic, alert, alive. How can it be an end? If truth is a fixed point it is no longer truth; it is then a mere opinion. Truth is the unknown, and a mind that is seeking truth will never find it, for mind is made up of the known, it is the result of the past, the outcome of time - which you can observe for yourself. Mind is the instrument of the known, hence it cannot find the unknown; it can only move from the known to the known. When the mind seeks truth, the truth it has read about in books, that `truth' is self-projected; for then the mind is merely in pursuit of the known, a more satisfactory known than the previous one. When the mind seeks truth, it is seeking its own self-projection, not truth. After all, an ideal is self-projected; it is fictitious, unreal. What is real is what is, not the opposite. But a mind that is seeking reality, seeking God, is seeking the known. When you think of God, your God is the projection of your own thought, the result of social influences. You can think only of the known; you cannot think of the unknown, you cannot concentrate on truth. The moment you think of the unknown, it is merely the self-projected known. God or truth cannot be thought about. If you think about it, it is not truth. Truth cannot be sought: it comes to you. You can go only after what is known. When the mind is not tortured by the known, by the effects of the known, then only can truth reveal itself. Truth is in every leaf, in every tear; it is to be known from moment to moment. No one can lead you to truth; and if anyone leads you, it can only be to the known. Truth can only come to the mind that is empty of the known. It comes in a state in which the known is absent, not functioning. The mind is the warehouse of the known, the residue of the known; for the mind to be in that state in which the unknown comes into being, it must be aware of itself, of its previous experiences, the conscious as well as the unconscious, of its responses, reactions, and structure. When there is complete self-knowledge, then there is the ending of the known, then the mind is completely empty of the known. It is only then that truth can come to you uninvited. Truth does not belong to you or to me. You cannot worship it. The moment it is known, it is unreal. The symbol is not real, the image is not real; but when there is the understanding of self, the cessation of self, then eternity comes into being. THE FIRST AND LAST FREEDOM QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS QUESTION 4 'ON KNOWLEDGE' Question: I gather definitely from you that learning and knowledge are impediments. To what are they impediments? Krishnamurti: Obviously knowledge and learning are an impediment to the understanding of the new, the timeless, the eternal. Developing a perfect technique does not make you creative. You may know how to paint marvellously, you may have the technique; but you may not be a creative painter. You may know how to write poems, technically most perfect; but you may not be a poet. To be a poet implies, does it not?, being capable of receiving the new; to be sensitive enough to respond to something new, fresh. With most of us knowledge or learning has become an addiction and we think that through knowing we shall be creative. A mind that is crowded, encased in facts, in knowledge - is it capable of receiving something new, sudden, spontaneous? If your mind is crowded with the known, is there any space in it to receive something that is of the unknown? Surely knowledge is always of the known; and with the known we are trying to understand the unknown, something which is beyond measure. Take, for example, a very ordinary thing that happens to most of us: those who are religious - whatever that word may mean for the moment - try to imagine what God is or try to think about what God is. They have read innumerable books, they have read about the experiences of the various saints, the Masters, the Mahatma and all the rest, and they try to imagine or try to feel what the experience of another is; that is with the known you try to approach the unknown. Can you do it? Can you think of something that is not knowable? You can only think of something that you know. But there is this extraordinary perversion taking place in the world at the present time: we think we shall understand if we have more information, more books, more facts, more printed matter. To be aware of something that is not the projection of the known, there must be the elimination, through the understanding, of the process of the known. Why is it that the mind clings always to the known? Is it not because the mind is constantly seeking certainty, security? Its very nature is fixed in the known, in time; how can such a mind, whose very foundation is based on the past, on time, experience the timeless? it may conceive, formulate, picture the unknown, but that is all absurd. The unknown can come into being only when the known is understood, dissolved, put aside. That is extremely difficult, because the moment you have an experience of anything, the mind translates it into the terms of the known and reduces it to the past. I do not know if you have noticed that every experience is immediately translated in1o the known, given a name, tabulated and recorded. So the movement of the known is knowledge, and obviously such knowledge, learning, is a hindrance. Suppose you had never read a book, religious or psychological, and you had to find the meaning, the significance of life. How would you set about it? Suppose there were no Masters, no religious organizations, no Buddha, no Christ, and you had to begin from the beginning. How would you set about it? First, you would have to understand your process of thinking, would you not? - and not project yourself, your thoughts, into the future and create a God which pleases you; that would be too childish. So first you would have to understand the process of your thinking. That is the only way to discover anything new, is it not? When we say that learning or knowledge is an impediment, a hindrance, we are not including technical knowledge - how to drive a car, how to run machinery - or the efficiency which such knowledge brings. We have in mind quite a different thing: that sense of creative happiness which no amount of knowledge or learning will bring. To be creative in the truest sense of that word is to be free of the past from moment to moment, because it is the past that is continually shadowing the present. Merely to cling to information, to the experiences of others, to what someone has said, however great, and try to approximate your action to that - all that is knowledge, is it not? But to discover anything new you must start on your own; you must start on a journey completely denuded, especially of knowledge, because it is very easy, through knowledge and belief, to have experiences; but those experiences are merely the products of self-projection and therefore utterly unreal, false. If you are to discover for yourself what is the new, it is no good carrying the burden of the old, especially knowledge -the knowledge of another, however great. You use knowledge as a means of self-protection, security, and you want to be quite sure that you have the same experiences as the Buddha or the Christ or X. But a man who is protecting himself constantly through knowledge is obviously not a truth-seeker. For the discovery of truth there is no path. You must enter the uncharted sea - which is not depressing, which is not being adventurous. When you want to find something new, when you are experimenting with anything, your mind has to be very quiet, has it not? If your mind is crowded, filled with facts, knowledge, they act as an impediment to the new; the difficulty is for most of us that the mind has become so important, so predominantly significant, that it interferes constantly with anything that may be new, with anything that may exist simultaneously with the known. Thus knowledge and learning are impediments for those who would seek, for those who would try to understand that which is timeless. THE FIRST AND LAST FREEDOM QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS QUESTION 5 'ON DISCIPLINE' Question: All religions have insisted on some kind of self-discipline to moderate the instincts of the brute in man. Through self-discipline the saints and mystics have asserted that they have attained godhood. Now you seem to imply that such disciplines are a hindrance to the realization of God. I am confused. Who is right in this matter? Krishnamurti: It is not a question of who is right in this matter. What is important is to find out the truth of the matter for ourselves - not according to a particular saint or to a person who comes from India or from some other place, the more exotic the better. You are caught between these two: someone says discipline, another says no discipline. Generally what happens is that you choose what is more convenient, what is more satisfying: you like the man, his looks, his personal idiosyncrasies, his personal favouritism and all the rest of it. Putting all that aside, let us examine this question directly and find out the truth of the matter for ourselves. In this question a great deal is implied and we have to approach it very cautiously and tentatively. Most of us want someone in authority to tell us what to do. We look for a direction in conduct, because our instinct is to be safe, not to suffer more. Someone is said to have realized happiness, bliss or what you will and we hope that he will tell us what to do to arrive there. That is what we want: we want that same happiness, that same inward quietness, joy; and in this mad world of confusion we want someone to tell us what to do. That is really the basic instinct with most of us and, according to that instinct, we pattern our action. Is God, is that highest thing, unnameable and not to be measured by words - is that come by through discipline, through following a particular pattern of action? We want to arrive at a particular goal, particular end, and we think that by practice, by discipline, by suppressing or releasing, sublimating or substituting, we shall be able to find that which we are seeking. What is implied in discipline? Why do we discipline ourselves, if we do? Can discipline and intelligence go together? Most people feel that we must, through some kind of discipline, subjugate or control the brute, the ugly thing in us. Is that brute, that ugly thing, controllable through discipline? What do we mean by discipline? A course of action which promises a reward, a course of action which, if pursued, will give us what we want - it may be positive or negative; a pattern of conduct which, if practised diligently, sedulously, very, very ardently, will give me in the end what I want. It may be painful but I am willing to go through it to get that. The self, which is aggressive, selfish, hypocritical, anxious, fearful - you know, all of it - that self, which is the cause of the brute in us, we want to transform, subjugate, destroy. How is this to be done? Is it to be done through discipline, or through an intelligent understanding of the past of the self, what the self is, how it comes into being, and so on? Shall we destroy the brute in man through compulsion or through intelligence? Is intelligence a matter of discipline? Let us for the time being forget what the saints and all the rest of the people have said; let us go into the matter for ourselves, as though we were for the first time looking at this problem; then we may have something creative at the end of it, not just quotations of what other people have said, which is all so vain and useless. We first say that in us there is conflict, the black against the white, greed against non-greed and so on. I am greedy, which creates pain; to be rid of that greed, I must discipline myself. That is I must resist any form of conflict which gives me pain, which in this case I call greed. I then say it is antisocial, it is unethical, it is not saintly and so on and so on - the various social-religious reasons we give for resisting it. Is greed destroyed or put away from us through compulsion? First, let us examine the process involved in suppression, in compulsion, in putting it away, resisting. What happens when you do that, when you resist greed? What is the thing that is resisting greed? That is the first question, isn't it? Why do you resist greed and who is the entity that says, "I must be free of greed"? The entity that says, "I must be free" is also greed, is he not? Up to now, greed has paid him, but now it is painful; therefore he says, "I must get rid of it". The motive to get rid of it is still a process of greed, because he is wanting to be something which he is not. Non-greed is now profitable, so I am pursuing non-greed; but the motive, the intention, is still to be something, to be non-greedy - which is still greed, surely; which is again a negative form of the emphasis on the `me'. We find that being greedy is painful, for various reasons which are obvious. So long as we enjoy it, so long as it pays us to be greedy, there is no problem. Society encourages us in different ways to be greedy; so do religions encourage us in different ways. So long as it is profitable, so long as it is not painful, we pursue it but the moment it becomes painful we want to resist it. That resistance is what we call discipline against greed; but are we free from greed through resistance, through sublimation, through suppression? Any act on the part of the `me' who wants to be free from greed is still greed. Therefore any action, any response on my part with regard to greed, is obviously not the solution. First of all there must be a quiet mind, an undisturbed mind, to understand anything, especially something which I do not know, something which my mind cannot fathom - which, this questioner says, is God. To understand anything, any intricate problem - of life or relationship, in fact any problem - there must be a certain quiet depth to the mind. Is that quiet depth come by through any form of compulsion? The superficial mind may compel itself, make itself quiet; but surely such quietness is the quietness of decay, death. It is not capable of adaptability, pliability, sensitivity. So resistance is not the way. Now to see that requires intelligence, doesn't it? To see that the mind is made dull by compulsion is already the beginning of intelligence, isn't it? - to see that discipline is merely conformity to a pattern of action through fear. That is what is implied in disciplining ourselves: we are afraid of not getting what we want. What happens when you discipline the mind, when you discipline your being? It becomes very hard, doesn't it; unpliable, not quick, not adjustable. Don't you know people who have disciplined themselves - if there are such people? The result is obviously a process of decay. There is an inward conflict which is put away, hidden away; but it is there, burning. Thus we see that discipline, which is resistance, merely creates a habit and habit obviously cannot be productive of intelligence: habit never is, practice never is. You may become very clever with your fingers by practising the piano all day, making something with your hands; but intelligence is demanded to direct the hands and we are now inquiring into that intelligence. You see somebody whom you consider happy or as having realized, and he does certain things; you, wanting that happiness, imitate him. This imitation is called discipline, isn't it? We imitate in order to receive what another has; we copy in order to be happy, which you think he is. Is happiness found through discipline? By practising a certain rule, by practising a certain discipline, a mode of conduct, are you ever free? Surely there must be freedom for discovery, must there not? If you would discover anything, you must be free inwardly, which is obvious. Are you free by shaping your mind in a particular way which you call discipline? Obviously you are not. You are merely a repetitive machine, resisting according to a certain conclusion, according to a certain mode of conduct. Freedom cannot come through discipline. Freedom can only come into being with intelligence; and that intelligence is awakened, or you have that intelligence, the moment you see that any form of compulsion denies freedom, inwardly or outwardly. The first requirement, not as a discipline, is obviously freedom; only virtue gives this freedom. Greed is confusion; anger is confusion; bitterness is confusion. When you see that, obviously you are free of them; you do not resist them. but you see that only in freedom can you discover and that any form of compulsion is not freedom, and therefore there is no discovery. What virtue does is to give you freedom. The unvirtuous person is a confused person; in confusion, how can you discover anything? How can you? Thus virtue is not the end product of a discipline, but virtue is freedom and freedom cannot come through any action which is not virtuous, which is not true in itself. Our difficulty is that most of us have read so much, most of us have superficially followed so many disciplines - getting up every morning at a certain hour, sitting in a certain posture, trying to hold our minds in a certain way - you know, practise, practise, discipline, because you have been told that if you do these things for a number of years you will have God at the end of it. I may put it crudely, but that is the basis of our thinking. Surely God doesn't come so easily as all that? God is not a mere marketable thing: I do this and you give me that. Most of us are so conditioned by external influences, by religious doctrines, beliefs, and by our own inward demand to arrive at something, to gain something, that it is very difficult for us to think of this problem anew without thinking in terms of discipline. First we must see very clearly the implications of discipline, how it narrows down the mind, limits the mind, compels the mind to a particular action, through our desire, through influence and all the rest of it; a conditioned mind, however `virtuous' that conditioning, cannot possibly be free and therefore cannot understand reality. God, reality or what you will - the name doesn't matter - can come into being only when there is freedom, and there is no freedom where there is compulsion, positive or negative, through fear. There is no freedom if you are seeking an end, for you are tied to that end. You may be free from the past but the future holds you, and that is not freedom. It is only in freedom that one can discover anything: new idea, a new feeling, a new perception. Any form of discipline which is based on compulsion denies that freedom whether political or religious; and since discipline, which is conformity to an action with an end in view, is binding, the mind can never be free. It can function only within that groove, like a gramophone record. Thus, through practice, through habit, through cultivation of a pattern, the mind only achieves what it has in view. Therefore it is not free; therefore it cannot realize that which is immeasurable. To be aware of that whole process - why you are constantly disciplining yourself to public opinion; to certain saints; the whole business of conforming to opinion, whether of a saint or of a neighbour, it is all the same - to be aware of this whole conformity through practice, through subtle ways of submitting yourself, of denying, asserting, suppressing, sublimating, all implying conformity to a pattern: this is already the beginning of freedom, from which there is a virtue. Virtue surely is not the cultivation of a particular idea, Non-greed, for instance, if pursued as an end is no longer virtue, is it? That is if you are conscious that you are non-greedy, are you virtuous? That is what we are doing through discipline. Discipline, conformity, practice, only give emphasis to self-consciousness as being something. The mind practises non-greed and therefore it is not free from its own consciousness as being non-greedy; therefore, it is not really non-greedy. It has merely taken on a new cloak which it calls non-greed. We can see the total process of all this: the motivation, the desire for an end, the conformity to a pattern, the desire to be secure in pursuing a pattern - all this is merely the moving from the known to the known, always within the limits of the mind's own self-enclosing process. To see all this, to be aware of it, is the beginning of intelligence, and intelligence is neither virtuous nor non-virtuous, it cannot be fitted into a pattern as virtue or non-virtue. Intelligence brings freedom, which is not licentiousness, not disorder. Without this intelligence there can be no virtue; virtue gives freedom and in freedom there comes into being reality. If you see the whole process totally, in its entirety, then you will find there is no conflict. It is because we are in conflict and because we want to escape from that conflict that we resort to various forms of disciplines, denials and adjustments. When we see what is the process of conflict there is no question of discipline, because then we understand from moment to moment the ways of conflict. That requires great alertness, watching yourself all the time; the curious part of it is that although you may not be watchful all the time there is a recording process going on inwardly, once the intention is there - the sensitivity, the inner sensitivity, is taking the picture all the time, so that the inner will project that picture the moment you are quiet. Therefore, it is not a question of discipline. Sensitivity can never come into being through compulsion. You may compel a child to do something, put him in a corner, and he may be quiet; but inwardly he is probably seething, looking out of the window, doing something to get away. That is what we are still doing. So the question of discipline and of who is right and who is wrong can be solved only by yourself. Also, you see, we are afraid to go wrong because we want to be a success. Fear is at the bottom of the desire to be disciplined, but the unknown cannot be caught in the net of discipline. On the contrary, the unknown must have freedom and not the pattern of your mind. That is why the tranquillity of the mind is essential. When the mind is conscious that it is tranquil, it is no longer tranquil; when the mind is conscious that it is non-greedy, free from greed, it recognizes itself in the new robe of non-greed but that is not tranquillity. That is why one must also understand the problem in this question of the person who controls and that which is controlled. They are not separate phenomena but a joint phenomenon: the controller and the controlled are one. THE FIRST AND LAST FREEDOM QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS QUESTION 6 'ON LONELINESS' Question: I am beginning to realize that I am very lonely. What am I to do? Krishnamurti: The questioner wants to know why he feels loneliness? Do you know what loneliness means and are you aware of it? I doubt it very much, because we have smothered ourselves in activities, in books, in relationships, in ideas which really prevent us from being aware of loneliness. What do we mean by loneliness? it is a sense of being empty, of having nothing, of being extraordinarily uncertain, with no anchorage anywhere. It is not despair, nor hopelessness. but a sense of void, a sense of emptiness and a sense of frustration. I am sure we have all felt it, the happy and the unhappy, the very, very active and those who are addicted to knowledge. They all know this. It is the sense of real inexhaustible pain, a pain that cannot be covered up, though we do try to cover it up. Let us approach this problem again to see what is actually taking place, to see what you do when you feel lonely. You try to escape from your feeling of loneliness, you try to get on with a book, you follow some leader, or you go to a cinema, or you become socially very, very active, or you go and worship and pray, or you paint, or you write a poem about loneliness. That is what is actually taking place. Becoming aware of loneliness, the pain of it, the extraordinary and fathomless fear of it, you seek an escape and that escape becomes more important and therefore your activities, your knowledge, your gods, your radios all become important, don't they? When you give importance to secondary values, they lead you to misery and chaos; the secondary values are inevitably the sensate values; and modern civilization based on these gives you this escape - escape through your job, your family, your name, your studies, through painting etc; all our culture is based on that escape. Our civilization is founded on it and that is a fact. Have you ever tried to be alone? When you do try, you will feel how extraordinarily difficult it is and how extraordinarily intelligent we must be to be alone, because the mind will not let us be alone. The mind becomes restless, it busies itself with escapes, so what are we doing? We are trying to fill this extraordinary void with the known. We discover how to be active, how to be social; we know how to study, how to turn on the radio. We are filling that thing which we do not know with the things we know. We try to fill that emptiness with various kinds of knowledge, relationship or things. Is that not so? That is our process, that is our existence. Now when you realize what you are doing, do you still think you can fill that void? You have tried every means of filling this void of loneliness. Have you succeeded in filling it? You have tried cinemas and you did not succeed and therefore you go after your gurus and your books or you become very active socially. Have you succeeded in filling it or have you merely covered it up? If you have merely covered it up, it is still there; therefore it will come back. If you are able to escape altogether then you are locked up in an asylum or you become very, very dull. That is what is happening in the world. Can this emptiness, this void, be filled? If not, can we run away from it, escape from it? If we have experienced and found one escape to be of no value, are not all other escapes therefore of no value? It does not matter whether you fill the emptiness with this or with that. So-called meditation is also an escape. It does not matter much that you change your way of escape. How then will you find what to do about this loneliness? You can only find what to do when you have stopped escaping. Is that not so? When you are willing to face what is - which means you must not turn on the radio, which means you must turn your back to civilization - then that loneliness comes to an end, because it is completely transformed. It is no longer loneliness. If you understand what is then what is is the real. Because the mind is continuously avoiding, escaping, refusing to see what is it creates its own hindrances. Because we have so many hindrances that are preventing us from seeing, we do not understand what is and therefore we are getting away from reality; all these hindrances have been created by the mind in order not to see what is. To see what is not only requires a great deal of capacity and awareness of action but it also means turning your back on everything that you have built up, your bank account, your name and everything that we call civilization. When you see what is, you will find how loneliness is transformed. THE FIRST AND LAST FREEDOM QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS QUESTION 7 'ON SUFFERING' Question: What is the significance of pain and suffering? Krishnamurti: When you suffer, when you have pain, what is the significance of it? Physical pain has one significance but probably we mean psychological pain and sufferings which has quite a different significance at different levels. What is the significance of suffering? Why do you want to find the significance of suffering? Not that it has no significance - we are going to find out. But why do you want to find it? Why do you want to find out why you suffer? When you put that question to yourself, "Why do I suffer?", and are looking for the cause of sufferings are you not escaping from suffering? When I seek the significance of sufferings am I not avoidings,evading it, running away from it? The fact is, I am suffering; but the moment I bring the mind to operate upon it and say, "Now, why?", I have already diluted the intensity of suffering. In other words, we want suffering to be diluted, alleviated, put away, explained away. Surely that doesn't give an understanding of suffering. If I am free from that desire to run away from its then I begin to understand what is the content of suffering. What is suffering? A disturbances isn't it?, at different levels - at the physical and at the different levels of the subconscious. It is an acute form of disturbance which I don't like. My son is dead. I have built round him all my hopes or round my daughter, my husband, what you will. I have enshrined him with all the things I wanted him to be and I have kept him as my companion - you know, all that sort of thing. Suddenly he is gone. So there is a disturbance, isn't there? That disturbance I call suffering. If I don't like that suffering, then I say "Why am I suffering?", "I loved him so much", "He was this", "I had that". I try to escape in words, in labels, in beliefs, as most of us do. They act as a narcotic. If I do not do that, what happens? I am simply aware of suffering. I don't condemn it, I don't justify it - I am suffering. Then I can follow its movements can't I? Then I can follow the whole content of what it means - `I follow' in the sense of trying to understand something. What does it mean? What is it that is suffering? Not why there is suffering, not what is the cause of suffering, but what is actually happening? I do not know if you see the difference. When I am simply aware of suffering, not as apart from me, not as an observer watching suffering - it is part of me, that is the whole of me is suffering. Then I am able to follow its movement, see where it leads. Surely if I do that it opens up, does it not? Then I see that I have laid emphasis on the `me' - not on the person whom I love. He only acted to cover me from my misery, from my loneliness, from my misfortune. As I am not something, I hoped he would be that. That has gone; I am left, I am lost, I am lonely. Without him, I am nothing. So I cry. It is not that he is gone but that I am left. I am alone. To come to that point is very difficult, isn't it? It is difficult really to recognize it and not merely say, "I am alone and how am I to get rid of that loneliness?", which is another form of escape, but to be conscious of it, to remain with it, to see its movement. I am only taking this as an example. Gradually, if I allow it to unfold, to open up, I see that I am suffering because I am lost; I am being called to give my attention to something which I am not willing to look at; something is being forced upon me which I am reluctant to see and to understand. There are innumerable people to help me to escape - thousands of so-called religious people, with their beliefs and dogmas, hopes and fantasies - "it is karma, it is God's will" -you know, all giving me a way out. But if I can stay with it and not put it away from me, not try to circumscribe or deny it, then what happens? What is the state of my mind when it is thus following the movement of suffering? Is suffering merely a word, or an actuality? If it is an actuality and not just a word, then the word has no meaning now, so there is merely the feeling of intense pain. With regard to what? With regard to an image, to an experience, to something which you have or have not. If you have it, you call it pleasure; if you haven't it is pain. Therefore pain, sorrow, is in relationship to something. Is that something merely a verbalization, or an actuality ? That is when sorrow exists, it exists only in relationship to something. it cannot exist by itself - even as fear cannot exist by itself but only in relationship to something: to an individual, to an incident, to a feeling. Now, you are fully aware of the suffering. Is that suffering apart from you and therefore you are merely the observer who perceives the suffering, or is that suffering you? When there is no observer who is suffering, is the suffering different from you? You are the suffering, are you not? You are not apart from the pain - you are the pain. What happens? There is no labelling, there is no giving it a name and thereby brushing it aside - you are merely that pain, that feeling, that sense of agony. When you are that, what happens? When you do not name it, when there is no fear with regard to it, is the centre related to it? If the centre is related to it, then it is afraid of it. Then it must act and do something about it. But if the centre is that, then what do you do? There is nothing to be done, is there? If you are that and you are not accepting it, not labelling it, not pushing it aside - if you are that thing, what happens? Do you say you suffer then? Surely, a fundamental transformation has taken place. Then there is no longer "I suffer", because there is no centre to suffer and the centre suffers because we have never examined what the centre is. We just live from word to word, from reaction to reaction. We never say, "Let me see what that thing is that suffers", You cannot see by enforcement, by discipline. You must look with interest, with spontaneous comprehension. Then you will see that the thing we call suffering, pain, the thing that we avoid, and the discipline, have all gone. As long as I have no relationship to the thing as outside me, the problem is not; the moment I establish a relationship with it outside me, the problem is. As long as I treat suffering as something outside - I suffer because I lost my brother, because I have no money, because of this or that - I establish a relationship to it and that relationship is fictitious. But if I am that thing, if I see the fact, then the whole thing is transformed, it all has a different meaning. Then there is full attention, integrated attention and that which is completely regarded is understood and dissolved, and so there is no fear and therefore the word `sorrow' is non-existent. THE FIRST AND LAST FREEDOM QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS QUESTION 8 'ON AWARENESS' Question: What is the difference between awareness and introspection? And who is aware in awareness? Krishnamurti: Let us first examine what we mean by introspection. We mean by introspection looking within oneself, examining oneself. Why does one examine oneself? In order to improve, in order to change, in order to modify. You introspect in order to become something, otherwise you would not indulge in introspection. You would not examine yourself if there were not the desire to modify, change, to become something other than what you are. That is the obvious reason for introspection. I am angry and I introspect, examine myself, in order to get rid of anger or to modify or change anger. Where there is introspection, which is the desire to modify or change the responses, the reactions of the self, there is always an end in view; when that end is not achieved, there is moodiness, depression. Therefore introspection invariably goes with depression. I don't know if you have noticed that when you introspect, when you look into yourself in order to change yourself, there is always a wave of depression. There is always a moody wave which you have to battle against; you have to examine yourself again in order to overcome that mood and so on. Introspection is a process in which there is no release because it is a process of transforming what is into something which it is not. Obviously that is exactly what is taking place when we introspect, when we indulge in that peculiar action. In that action, there is always an accumulative process, the `I' examining something in order to change it, so there is always a dualistic conflict and therefore a process of frustration. There is never a release; and, realizing that frustration, there is depression. Awareness is entirely different. Awareness is observation without condemnation. Awareness brings understanding, because there is no condemnation or identification but silent observation. If I want to understand something, I must observe, I must not criticize, I must not condemn, I must not pursue it as pleasure or avoid it as non-pleasure. There must merely be the silent observation of a fact. There is no end in view but awareness of everything as it arises. That observation and the understanding of that observation cease when there is condemnation, identification, or justification. Introspection is self-improvement and therefore introspection is self-centredness. Awareness is not self-improvement. On the contrary, it is the ending of the self, of the 'I', with all its peculiar idiosyncrasies, memories, demands and pursuits. In introspection there is identification and condemnation. In awareness there is no condemnation or identification; therefore there is no self-improvement. There is a vast difference between the two. The man who wants to improve himself can never be aware, because improvement implies condemnation and the achievement of a result. Whereas in awareness there is observation without condemnation, without denial or acceptance. That awareness begins with outward things, being aware, being in contact with objects, with nature. First, there is awareness of things about one, being sensitive to objects, to nature, then to people, which means relationship; then there is awareness of ideas. This awareness, being sensitive to things, to nature, to people, to ideas, is not made up of separate processes, but is one unitary process. It is a constant observation of everything, of every thought and feeling and action as they arise within oneself. As awareness is not condemnatory, there is no accumulation. You condemn only when you have a standard, which means there is accumulation and therefore improvement of the self. Awareness is to understand the activities of the self, the `I', in its relationship with people, with ideas and with things. That awareness is from moment to moment and therefore it cannot be practised. When you practise a thing, it becomes a habit and awareness is not habit. A mind that is habitual is insensitive, a mind that is functioning within the groove of a particular action is dull, unpliable, whereas awareness demands constant pliability, alertness. This is not difficult. It is what you actually do when you are interested in something, when you are interested in watching your child, your wife, your plants, the trees, the birds. You observe without condemnation, without identification; therefore in that observation there is complete communion; the observer and the observed are completely in communion. This actually takes place when you are deeply, profoundly interested in something. Thus there is a vast difference between awareness and the self-expansive improvement of introspection. Introspection leads to frustration, to further and greater conflict; whereas awareness is a process of release from the action of the self; it is to be aware of your daily movements, of your thoughts, of your actions and to be aware of another, to observe him. You can do that only when you love somebody, when you are deeply interested in something; when I want to know myself, my whole being, the whole content of myself and not just one or two layers, then there obviously must be no condemnation. Then I must be open to every thought, to every feeling, to all the moods, to all the suppressions; and as there is more and more expansive awareness, there is greater and greater freedom from all the hidden movement of thoughts, motives and pursuits. Awareness is freedom, it brings freedom, it yields freedom, whereas introspection cultivates conflict, the process of self-enclosure; therefore there is always frustration and fear in it. The questioner also wants to know who is aware. When you have a profound experience of any kind, what is taking place? When there is such an experience, are you aware that you are experiencing? When you are angry, at the split second of anger or of jealousy or of joy, are you aware that you are joyous or that you are angry? It is only when the experience is over that there is the experiencer and the experienced. Then the experiencer observes the experienced, the object of experience. At the moment of experience, there is neither the observer nor the observed: there is only the experiencing. Most of us are not experiencing. We are always outside the state of experiencing and therefore we ask this question as to who is the observer, who is it that is aware? Surely such a question is a wrong question, is it not? The moment there is experiencing, there is neither the person who is aware nor the object of which he is aware. There is neither the observer nor the observed but only a state of experiencing. Most of us find it is extremely difficult to live in a state of experiencing, because that demands an extraordinary pliability, a quickness, a high degree of sensitivity; and that is denied when we are pursuing a result, when we want to succeed, when we have an end in view, when we are calculating - all of which brings frustration. A man who does not demand anything, who is not seeking an end, who is not searching out a result with all its implications, such a man is in a state of constant experiencing. Everything then has a movement, a meaning; nothing is old, nothing is charred, nothing is repetitive, because what is is never old, The challenge is always new. It is only the response to the challenge that is old; the old creates further residue, which is memory, the observer, who separates himself from the observed, from the challenge, from the experience. You can experiment with this for yourself very simply and very easily. Next time you are angry or jealous or greedy or violent or whatever it may be, watch yourself. In that state, `you' are not. There is only that state of being. The moment, the second afterwards, you term it, you name it, you call it jealousy, anger, greed; so you have created immediately the observer and the observed, the experiencer and the experienced. When there is the experiencer and the experienced, then the experiencer tries to modify the experience, change it, remember things about it and so on, and therefore maintains the division between himself and the experienced. If you don't name that feeling - which means you are not seeking a result, you are not condemning, you are merely silently aware of the feeling - then you will see that in that state of feeling, of experiencing, there is no observer and no observed, because the observer and the observed are a joint phenomenon and so there is only experiencing. Therefore introspection and awareness are entirely different. Introspection leads to frustration, to further conflict, for in it is implied the desire for change and change is merely a modified continuity. Awareness is a state in which there is no condemnation, no justification or identification, and therefore there is understanding; in that state of passive, alert awareness there is neither the experiencer nor the experienced. Introspection, which is a form of self-improvement, of self-expansion, can never lead to truth, because it is always a process of self-enclosure; whereas awareness is a state in which truth can come into being, the truth of what is, the simple truth of daily existence. It is only when we understand the truth of daily existence that we can go far. You must begin near to go far but most of us want to jump, to begin far without understanding what is close. As we understand the near, we shall find the distance between the near and the far is not. There is no distance - the beginning and the end are one. THE FIRST AND LAST FREEDOM QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS QUESTION 9 'ON RELATIONSHIP' Question: You have often talked of relationship. What does it mean to you? Krishnamurti: First of all, there is no such thing as being isolated. To be is to be related and without relationship there is no existence. What do we mean by relationship? It is an interconnected challenge and response between two people, between you and me, the challenge which you throw out and which I accept or to which I respond; also the challenge I throw out to you. The relationship of two people creates society; society is not independent of you and me; the mass is not by itself a separate entity but you and I in our relationship to each other create the mass, the group, the society. Relationship is the awareness of interconnection between two people. What is that relationship generally based on? Is it not based on so-called interdependence, mutual assistance? At least, we say it is mutual help, mutual aid and so on, but actually, apart from words, apart from the emotional screen which we throw up against each other, what is it based upon? On mutual gratification, is it not? If I do not please you, you get rid of me; if I please you, you accept me either as your wife or as your neighbour or as your friend. That is the fact. What is it that you call the family? Obviously it is a relationship of intimacy, of communion. In your family, in your relationship with your wife, with your husband, is there communion? Surely that is what we mean by relationship, do we not? Relationship means communion without fear, freedom to understand each other, to communicate directly. Obviously relationship means that - to be in communion with another. Are you? Are you in communion with your wife? Perhaps you are physically but that is not relationship. You and your wife live on opposite sides of a wall of isolation, do you not? You have your own pursuits, your ambitions, and she has hers. You live behind the wall and occasionally look over the top -and that you call relationship. That is a fact, is it not? You may enlarge it, soften it, introduce a new set of words to describe it. but that is the fact - that you and another live in isolation, and that life in isolation you call relationship. If there is real relationship between two people, which means there is communion between them, then the implications are enormous. Then there is no isolation; there is love and not responsibility or duty. It is the people who are isolated behind their walls who talk about duty and responsibility. A man who loves does not talk about responsibility - he loves. Therefore he shares with another his joy, his sorrow, his money. Are your families such? Is there direct communion with your wife, with your children? Obviously not. Therefore the family is merely an excuse to continue your name or tradition, to give you what you want, sexually or psychologically, so the family becomes a means of self-perpetuation, of carrying on your name. That is one kind of immortality, one kind of permanency. The family is also used as a means of gratification. I exploit others ruthlessly in the business world, in the political or social world outside, and at home I try to be kind and generous. How absurd! Or the world is too much for me, I want peace and I go home. I suffer in the world and I go home and try to find comfort. So I use relationship as a means of gratification, which means I do not want to be disturbed by my relationship. Thus relationship is sought where there is mutual satisfaction, gratification; when you do not find that satisfaction you change relationship; either you divorce or you remain together but seek gratification elsewhere or else you move from one relationship to another till you find what you seek - which is satisfaction, gratification, and a sense of self-protection and comfort. After all, that is our relationship in the world, and it is thus in fact. Relationship is sought where there can be security, where you as an individual can live in a state of security, in a state of gratification, in a state of ignorance - all of which always creates conflict, does it not? If you do not satisfy me and I am seeking satisfaction, naturally there must be conflict, because we are both seeking security in each other; when that security becomes uncertain you become jealous, you become violent, you become possessive and so on. So relationship invariably results in possession in condemnation, in self-assertive demands for security, for comfort and for gratification, and in that there is naturally no love. We talk about love, we talk about responsibility, duty, but there is really no love; relationship is based on gratification, the effect of which we see in the present civilization. The way we treat our wives, children, neighbours, friends is an indication that in our relationship there is really no love at all. It is merely a mutual search for gratification. As this is so, what then is the purpose of relationship? What is its ultimate significance? If you observe yourself in relationship with others, do you not find that relationship is a process of self-revelation? Does not my contact with you reveal my own state of being if I am aware, if I am alert enough to be conscious of my own reaction in relationship? Relationship is really a process of self-revelation, which is a process of self-knowledge; in that revelation there are many unpleasant things, disquieting, uncomfortable thoughts, activities. Since I do not like what I discover, I run away from a relationship which is not pleasant to a relationship which is pleasant. Therefore, relationship has very little significance when we are merely seeking mutual gratification but becomes extraordinarily significant when it is a means of self-revelation and self-knowledge. After all, there is no relationship in love, is there? It is only when you love something and expect a return of your love that there is a relationship. When you love, that is when you give yourself over to something entirely, wholly, then there is no relationship. If you do love, if there is such a love, then it is a marvellous thing. In such love there is no friction, there is not the one and the other, there is complete unity. It is a state of integration, a complete being. There are such moments, such rare, happy, joyous moments, when there is complete love, complete communion. What generally happens is that love is not what is important but the other, the object of love becomes important; the one to whom love is given becomes important and not love itself. Then the object of love, for various reasons, either biological, verbal or because of a desire for gratification, for comfort and so on, becomes important and love recedes. Then possession, jealousy and demands create conflict and love recedes further and further; the further it recedes, the more the problem of relationship loses its significance, its worth and its meaning. Therefore, love is one of the most difficult things to comprehend. It cannot come through an intellectual urgency, it cannot be manufactured by various methods and means and disciplines. It is a state of being when the activities of the self have ceased; but they will not cease if you merely suppress them, shun them or discipline them. You must understand the activities of the self in all the different layers of consciousness. We have moments when we do love, when there is no thought, no motive, but those moments are very rare. Because they are rare we cling to them in memory and thus create a barrier between living reality and the action of our daily existence. In order to understand relationship it is important to understand first of all what is, what is actually taking place in our lives, in all the different subtle forms; and also what relationship actually means. Relationship is self-revelation. it is because we do not want to be revealed to ourselves that we hide in comfort, and then relationship loses its extraordinary depth, significance and beauty. There can be true relationship only when there is love but love is not the search for gratification. Love exists only when there is self-forgetfulness, when there is complete communion, not between one or two, but communion with the highest; and that can only take place when the self is forgotten. THE FIRST AND LAST FREEDOM QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS QUESTION 10 'ON WAR' Question: How can we solve our present political chaos and the crisis in the world? Is there anything an individual can do to stop the impending war? Krishnamurti: War is the spectacular and bloody projection of our everyday life, is it not? War is merely an outward expression of our inward state, an enlargement of our daily action. It is more spectacular, more bloody, more destructive, but it is the collective result of our individual activities. Therefore, you and I are responsible for war and what can we do to stop it? Obviously the ever-impending war cannot be stopped by you and me, because it is already in movement; it is already taking place, though at present chiefly on the psychological level. As it is already in movement, it cannot be stopped - the issues are too many, too great, and are already committed. But you and I, seeing that the house is on fire, can understand the causes of that fire, can go away from it and build in a new place with different materials that are not combustible, that will not produce other wars. That is all that we can do. You and I can see what creates wars, and if we are interested in stopping wars, then we can begin to transform ourselves, who are the causes of war. An American lady came to see me a couple of years ago, during the war. She said she had lost her son in Italy and that she had another son aged sixteen whom she wanted to save; so we talked the thing over. I suggested to her that to save her son she had to cease to be an American; she had to cease to be greedy, cease piling up wealth, seeking power, domination, and be morally simple - not merely simple in clothes, in outward things, but simple in her thoughts and feelings, in her relationships. She said, "That is too much. You are asking far too much. I cannot do it, because circumstances are too powerful for me to alter". Therefore she was responsible for the destruction of her son. Circumstances can be controlled by us, because we have created the circumstances. Society is the product of relationship, of yours and mine together. If we change in our relationship, society changes; merely to rely on legislation, on compulsion, for the transformation of outward society, while remaining inwardly corrupt, while continuing inwardly to seek power, position, domination, is to destroy the outward, however carefully and scientifically built. That which is inward is always overcoming the outward. What causes war - religious, political or economic? Obviously belief, either in nationalism, in an ideology, or in a particular dogma. If we had no belief but goodwill, love and consideration between us, then there would be no wars. But we are fed on beliefs, ideas and dogmas and therefore we breed discontent. The present crisis is of an exceptional nature and we as human beings must either pursue the path of constant conflict and continuous wars, which are the result of our everyday action, or else see the causes of war and turn our back upon them. Obviously what causes war is the desire for power, position, prestige, money; also the disease called nationalism, the worship of a flag; and the disease of organized religion, the worship of a dogma. All these are the causes of war; if you as an individual belong to any of the organized religions, if you are greedy for power, if you are envious, you are bound to produce a society which will result in destruction. So again it depends upon you and not on the leaders - not on so-called statesmen and all the rest of them. It depends upon you and me but we do not seem to realize that. If once we really felt the responsibility of our own actions, how quickly we could bring to an end all these wars, this appalling misery! But you see, we are indifferent. We have three meals a day, we have our jobs, we have our bank accounts, big or little, and we say, "For God's sake, don't disturb us, leave us alone". The higher up we are, the more we want security, permanency, tranquillity, the more we want to be left alone, to maintain things fixed as they are; but they cannot be maintained as they are, because there is nothing to maintain. Everything is disintegrating. We do not want to face these things, we do not want to face the fact that you and I are responsible for wars. You and I may talk about peace, have conferences, sit round a table and discuss, but inwardly, psychologically, we want power, posit1on, we are motivated by greed. We intrigue, we are nationalistic, we are bound by beliefs, by dogmas, for which we are willing to die and destroy each other. Do you think such men, you and I, can have peace in the world? To have peace, we must be peaceful; to live peacefully means not to create antagonism. Peace is not an ideal. To me, an ideal is merely an escape, an avoidance of what is, a contradiction of what is. An ideal prevents direct action upon what is. To have peace, we will have to love, we will have to begin not to live an ideal life but to see things as they are and act upon them, transform them. As long as each one of us is seeking psychological security, the physiological security we need - food, clothing and shelter - is destroyed. We are seeking psychological security, which does not exist; and we seek it, if we can, through power, through position, through titles, names - all of which is destroying physical security. This is an obvious fact, if you look at it. To bring about peace in the world, to stop all wars, there must be a revolution in the individual, in you and me. Economic revolution without this inward revolution is meaningless, for hunger is the result of the maladjustment of economic conditions produced by our psychological states - greed, envy, ill will and possessiveness. To put an end to sorrow, to hunger, to war, there must be a psychological revolution and few of us are willing to face that. We will discuss peace, plan legislation, create new leagues, the United Nations and so on and on; but we will not win peace because we will not give up our position, our authority, our money, our properties, our stupid lives. To rely on others is utterly futile; others cannot bring us peace. No leader is going to give us peace, no government, no army, no country. What will bring peace is inward transformation which will lead to outward action. Inward transformation is not isolation, is not a withdrawal from outward action. On the contrary, there can be right action only when there is right thinking and there is no right thinking when there is no self-knowledge. Without knowing yourself, there is no peace. To put an end to outward war, you must begin to put an end to war in yourself. Some of you will nod your heads and say, "I agree", and go outside and do exactly the same as you have been doing for the last ten or twenty years. Your agreement is merely verbal and has no significance, for the world's miseries and wars are not going to be stopped by your casual assent. They will be stopped only when you realize the danger, when you realize your responsibility, when you do not leave it to somebody else. If you realize the suffering, if you see the urgency of immediate action and do not postpone, then you will transform yourself; peace will come only when you yourself are peaceful, when you yourself are at peace with your neighbour. THE FIRST AND LAST FREEDOM QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS QUESTION 11 'ON FEAR' Question: How am I to get rid of fear, which influences all my activities? Krishnamurti: What do we mean by fear? Fear of what? There are various types of fear and we need not analyse every type. But we can see that fear comes into being when our comprehension of relationship is not complete. Relationship is not only between people but between ourselves and nature, between ourselves and property, between ourselves and ideas; as long as that relationship is not fully understood, there must be fear. Life is relationship. To be is to be related and without relationship there is no life. Nothing can exist in isolation; so long as the mind is seeking isolation, there must be fear. Fear is not an abstraction; it exists only in relation to something. The question is, how to be rid of fear? First of all, anything that is overcome has to be conquered again and again. No problem can be finally overcome, conquered; it can be understood but not conquered. They are two completely different processes and the conquering process leads to further confusion, further fear. To resist, to dominate, to do battle with a problem or to build a defence against it is only to create further conflict, whereas if we can understand fear, go into it fully step by step, explore the whole content of it, then fear will never return in any form. As I said, fear is not an abstraction; it exists only in relationship. What do we mean by fear? Ultimately we are afraid, are we not?, of not being, of not becoming. Now, when there is fear of not being, of not advancing, or fear of the unknown, of death, can that fear be overcome by determination, by a conclusion, by any choice? Obviously not. Mere suppression, sublimation, or substitution, creates further resistance, does it not? Therefore fear can never be overcome through any form of discipline, through any form of resistance. That fact must be clearly seen, felt and experienced: fear cannot be overcome through any form of defence or resistance nor can there be freedom from fear through the search for an answer or through mere intellectual or verbal explanation. Now what are we afraid of? Are we afraid of a fact or of an idea about the fact? Are we afraid of the thing as it is, or are we afraid of what we think it is? Take death, for example. Are we afraid of the fact of death or of the idea of death? The fact is one thing and the idea about the fact is another. Am I afraid of the word `death' or of the fact itself? Because I am afraid of the word, of the idea, I never understand the fact, I never look at the fact, I am never in direct relation with the fact. It is only when I am in complete communion with the fact that there is no fear. If I am not in communion with the fact, then there is fear, and there is no communion with the fact so long as I have an idea, an opinion, a theory, about the fact, so I have to be very clear whether I am afraid of the word, the idea or of the fact. If I am face to face with the fact, there is nothing to understand about it: the fact is there, and I can deal with it. If I am afraid of the word, then I must understand the word, go into the whole process of what the word, the term, implies. For example, one is afraid of loneliness, afraid of the ache, the pain of loneliness. Surely that fear exists because one has never really looked at loneliness, one has never been in complete communion with it. The moment one is completely open to the fact of loneliness one can understand what it is, but one has an idea, an opinion about it, based on previous knowledge; it is this idea, opinion, this previous knowledge about the fact, that creates fear. Fear is obviously the out- come of naming, of terming, of projecting a symbol to represent the fact; that is fear is not independent of the word, of the term. I have a reaction, say, to loneliness; that is I say I am afraid of being nothing. Am I afraid of the fact itself or is that fear awakened because I have previous knowledge of the fact, knowledge being the word, the symbol, the image? How can there be fear of a fact? When I am face to face with a fact, in direct communion with it, I can look at it, observe it; therefore there is no fear of the fact. What causes fear is my apprehension about the fact, what the fact might be or do. It is my opinion, my idea, my experience, my knowledge about the fact, that creates fear. So long as there is verbalization of the fact, giving the fact a name and therefore identifying or condemning it, so long as thought is judging the fact as an observer, there must be fear. Thought is the product of the past, it can only exist through verbalization, through symbols, through images; so long as thought is regarding or translating the fact, there must be fear. Thus it is the mind that creates fear, the mind being the process of thinking. Thinking is verbalization. You cannot think without words, without symbols, images; these images, which are the prejudices, the previous knowledge, the apprehensions of the mind, are projected upon the fact, and out of that there arises fear. There is freedom from fear only when the mind is capable of looking at the fact without translating it, without giving it a name, a label. This is quite difficult, because the feelings, the reactions, the anxieties that we have, are promptly identified by the mind and given a word. The feeling of jealousy is identified by that word. Is it possible not to identify a feeling, to look at that feeling without naming it? It is the naming of the feeling that gives it continuity, that gives it strength. The moment you give a name to that which you call fear, you strengthen it; but if you can look at that feeling without terming it, you will see that it withers away. Therefore if one would be completely free of fear it is essential to understand this whole process of terming, of projecting symbols, images, giving names to facts. There can be freedom from fear only when there is self-knowledge. Self-knowledge is the beginning of wisdom, which is the ending of fear. THE FIRST AND LAST FREEDOM QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS QUESTION 12 'ON BOREDOM AND INTEREST' Question: I am not interested in anything, but most people are busy with many interests. I don't have to work, so I don't. Should I undertake some useful work? Krishnamurti: Become a social worker or a political worker or a religious worker - is that it? Because you have nothing else to do, therefore you become a reformer! If you have nothing to do, if you are bored, why not be bored? Why not be that? If you are in sorrow, be sorrowful. Don't try to find a way out of it, because your being bored has an immense significance, if you can understand it, live with it. If you say, "I am bored, therefore I will do something else", you are merely try to escape from boredom, and, as most of our activities are escapes, you do much more harm socially and in every other way. The mischief is much greater when you escape than when you are what you are and remain with it. The difficulty is, how to remain with it and not run away; as most of our activities are a process of escape it is immensely difficult for you to stop escaping and face it. Therefore I am glad if you are really bored and I say, "Full stop, let's stay there, let's look at it. Why should you do anything?" If you are bored, why are you bored? What is the thing called boredom? Why is it that you are not interested in anything? There must be reasons and causes which have made you dull: suffering, escapes, beliefs, incessant activity, have made the mind dull, the heart unpliable. If you could find out why you are bored, why there is no interest, then surely you would solve the problem, wouldn't you? Then the awakened interest will function. If you are not interested in why you are bored, you cannot force yourself to be interested in an activity, merely to be doing something - like a squirrel going round in a cage. I know that this is the kind of activity most of us indulge in. But we can find out inwardly, psychologically, why we are in this state of utter boredom; we can see why most of us are in this state: we have exhausted ourselves emotionally and mentally; we have tried so many things, so many sensations, so many amusements, so many experiments, that we have become dull, weary. We join one group, do everything wanted of us and then leave it; we then go to something else and try that. If we fail with one psychologist, we go to somebody else or to the priest; if we fail there, we go to another teacher, and so on; we always keep going. This process of constantly stretching and letting go is exhausting, isn't it? Like all sensations, it soon dulls the mind. We have done that, we have gone from sensation to sensation, from excitement to excitement, till we come to a point when we are really exhausted. Now, realizing that, don't proceed any further; take a rest. Be quiet. Let the mind gather strength by itself; don't force it. As the soil renews itself during the winter time, so, when the mind is allowed to be quiet, it renews itself. But it is very difficult to allow the mind to be quiet, to let it lie fallow after all this, for the mind wants to be doing something all the time. When you come to that point where you are really allowing yourself to be as you are - bored, ugly, hideous, or whatever it is - then there is a possibility of dealing with it. What happens when you accept something, when you accept what you are? When you accept that you are what you are, where is the problem? There is a problem only when we do not accept a thing as it is and wish to transform it - which does not mean that I am advocating contentment; on the contrary. If we accept what we are, then we see that the thing which we dreaded, the thing which we called boredom, the thing which we called despair, the thing which we called fear, has undergone a complete change. There is a complete transformation of the thing of which we were afraid. That is why it is important, as I said, to understand the process, the ways of our own thinking. Self-knowledge cannot be gathered through anybody, through any book, through any confession, psychology, or psychoanalyst. It has to be found by yourself, because it is your life; without the widening and deepening of that knowledge of the self, do what you will, alter any outward or inward circumstances, influences - it will ever be a breeding ground of despair, pain, sorrow. To go beyond the self-enclosing activities of the mind, you must understand them; and to understand them is to be aware of action in relationship, relationship to things, to people and to ideas. In that relationship, which is the mirror, we begin to see ourselves, without any justification or condemnation; and from that wider and deeper knowledge oF the ways of our own mind, it is possible to proceed further; it is possible for the mind to be quiet, to receive that which is real. THE FIRST AND LAST FREEDOM QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS QUESTION 13 'ON HATE' Question: If I am perfectly honest, I have to admit that I resent, and at times hate, almost everybody. It makes my life very unhappy and painful. I understand intellectually that I am this resentment, this hatred; but I cannot cope with it. Can you show me a way? Krishnamurti: What do we mean by `intellectually'? When we say that we understand something intellectually, what do we mean by that? Is there such a thing as intellectual understanding? Or is it that the mind merely understands the words, because that is our only way of communicating with each other? Can we, however, really understand anything merely verbally, mentally? That is the first thing we have to be clear about: whether so-called intellectual understanding is not an impediment to understanding. Surely understanding is integral, not divided, not partial? Either I understand something or I don't. To say to oneself, "I understand something intellectually", is surely a barrier to understanding. It is a partial process and therefore no understanding at all. Now the question is this: "How am I, who am resentful, hateful, how am I to be free of, or cope with that problem?" How do we cope with a problem? What is a problem? Surely, a problem is something which is disturbing. I am resentful, I am hateful; I hate people and it causes pain. And I am aware of it. What am I to do? It is a very disturbing factor in my life. What am I to do, how am I to be really free of it -not just momentarily slough it off but fundamentally be free of it? How am I to do it? It is a problem to me because it disturbs me. If it were not a disturbing thing, it would not be a problem to me, would it? Because it causes pain, disturbance, anxiety, because I think it is ugly, I want to get rid of it. Therefore the thing that I am objecting to is the disturbance, isn't it? I give it different names at different times, in different moods; one day I call it this and another something else but the desire is, basically, not to be disturbed. Isn't that it? Because pleasure is not disturbing, I accept it. I don't want to be free from pleasure, because there is no disturbance - at least, not for the time being, but hate, resentment, are very disturbing factors in my life and I want to get rid of them. My concern is not to be disturbed and I am trying to find a way in which I shall never be disturbed. Why should I not be disturbed? I must be disturbed, to find out, must I not? I must go through tremendous upheavals, turmoil, anxiety, to find out, must I not? If I am not disturbed I shall remain asleep and perhaps that is what most of us do want - to be pacified, to be put to sleep, to get away from any disturbance, to find isolation, seclusion, security. If I do not mind being disturbed - really, not just superficially, if I don't mind being disturbed, because I want to find out - then my attitude towards hate, towards resentment, undergoes a change, doesn't it? If I do not mind being disturbed, then the name is not important, is it? The word `hate' is not important, is it? Or`resentment' against people is not important, is it? Because then I am directly experiencing the state which I call resentment without verbalizing that experience. Anger is a very disturbing quality, as hate and resentment are; and very few of us experience anger directly without verbalizing it. If we do not verbalize it, if we do not call it anger, surely there is a different experience, is there not?, Because we term it, we reduce a new experience or fix it in the terms of the old, whereas, if we do not name it, then there is an experience which is directly understood and this understanding brings about a transformation in that experiencing. Take, for example, meanness. Most of us, if we are mean, are unaware of it - mean about money matters, mean about forgiving people, you know, just being mean. I am sure we are familiar with that. Now, being aware of it, how are we going to be free from that quality? - not to become generous, that is not the important point. To be free from meanness implies generosity, you haven't got to become generous. Obviously one must be aware of it. You may be very generous in giving a large donation to your society, to your friends, but awfully mean about giving a bigger tip - you know what I mean by `mean'. One is unconscious of it. When one becomes aware of it, what happens? We exert our will to be generous; we try to overcome it; we discipline ourselves to be generous and so on and so on. But, after all, the exertion of will to be something is still part of meanness in a larger circle, so if we do not do any of those things but are merely aware of the implications of meanness, without giving it a term, then we will see that there takes place a radical transformation. Please experiment with this. First, one must be disturbed, and it is obvious that most of us do not like to be disturbed. We think we have found a pattern of life - the Master, the belief, whatever it is -and there we settle down. It is like having a good bureaucratic job and functioning there for the rest of one's life. With that same mentality we approach various qualities of which we want to be rid. We do not see the importance of being disturbed, of being inwardly insecure, of not being dependent. Surely it is only in insecurity that you discover, that you see, that you understand? We want to be like a man with plenty of money, at ease; he will not be disturbed; he doesn't want to be disturbed. Disturbance is essential for understanding and any attempt to find security is a hindrance to understanding. When we want to get rid of something which is disturbing, it is surely a hindrance. If we can experience a feeling directly, without naming it, I think we shall find a great deal in it; then there is no longer a battle with it, because the experiencer and the thing experienced are one, and that is essential. So long as the experiencer verbalizes the feeling, the experience, he separates himself from it and acts upon it; such action is an artificial, illusory action. But if there is no verbalization, then the experiencer and the thing experienced are one. That integration is necessary and has to be radically faced. THE FIRST AND LAST FREEDOM QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS QUESTION 14 'ON GOSSIP' Question: Gossip has value in self-revelation, especially in revealing others to me. Seriously, why not use gossip as a means of discovering what is? I do not shiver at the word `gossip' just because it has been condemned for ages. Krishnamurti: I wonder why we gossip? Not because it reveals others to us. And why should others be revealed to us? Why do you want to know others? Why this extraordina1y concern about others? First of all, why do we gossip? It is a form of restlessness, is it not? Like worry, it is an indication of a restless mind. Why this desire to interfere with others, to know what others are doing, saying? It is a very superficial mind that gossips, isn't it? - an inquisitive mind which is wrongly directed. The questioner seems to think that others are revealed to him by his being concerned with them - with their doings, with their thoughts, with their opinions. But do we know others if we don't know ourselves? Can we judge others, if we do not know the way of our own thinking, the way we act, the way we behave? Why this extraordinary concern over others? Is it not an escape, really, this desire to find out what others are thinking and feeling and gossiping about? Doesn't it offer an escape from ourselves? Is there not in it also the desire to interfere with others' lives? Isn't our own life sufficiently difficult, sufficiently complex, sufficiently painful, without dealing with others', interfering with others'? Is there time to think about others in that gossipy, cruel, ugly manner? Why do we do this? You know, everybody does it. Practically everybody gossips about somebody else. Why? I think, first of all, we gossip about others because we are not sufficiently interested in the process of our own thinking and of our own action. We want to see what others are doing and perhaps, to put it kindly, to imitate others. Generally, when we gossip it is to condemn others, but, stretching it charitably, it is perhaps to imitate others. Why do we want to imitate others? Doesn't it all indicate an extraordinary shallowness on our own part? It is an extraordinarily dull mind that wants excitement, and goes outside itself to get it. In other words gossip is a form of sensation, isn't it?, in which we indulge. It may be a different kind of sensation, but there is always this desire to find excitement, distraction. If one really goes into this question deeply, one comes back to oneself, which shows that one is really extraordinarily shallow and seeking excitement from outside by talking about others. Catch yourself the next time you are gossiping about somebody; if you are aware of it, it will indicate an awful lot to you about yourself. Don't cover it up by saying that you are merely inquisitive about others. It indicates restlessness, a sense of excitement, a shallowness, a lack of real, profound interest in people which has nothing to do with gossip. The next problem is, how to stop gossip. That is the next question, isn't it? When you are aware that you are gossiping, how do you stop gossiping? If it has become a habit, an ugly thing that continues day after day, how do you stop it? Does that question arise? When you know you are gossiping, when you are aware that you are gossiping, aware of all its implications, do you then say to yourself, "How am I to stop it?" Does it not stop of its own accord, the moment you are aware that you are gossiping? The 'how' does not arise at all. The `how' arises only when you are unaware; and gossip indicates a lack of awareness. Experiment with this for yourself the next time you are gossiping, and see how quickly, how immediately you stop gossiping when you are aware of what you are talking about, aware that your tongue is running away with you. It does not demand the action of will to stop it. All that is necessary is to be aware, to be conscious of what you are saying and to see the implications of it. You don't have to condemn or justify gossip. Be aware of it and you will see how quickly you stop gossiping; because it reveals to oneself one's own ways of action, one's behaviour, thought pattern; in that revelation, one discovers oneself, which is far more important than gossiping about others, about what they are doing, what they are thinking, how they behave. Most of us who read daily newspapers are filled with gossip, global gossip. It is all an escape from ourselves, from our own pettiness, from our own ugliness. We think that through a superficial interest in world events we are becoming more and more wise, more capable of dealing with our own lives. All these, surely, are ways of escaping from ourselves, are they not? In ourselves we are so empty, shallow; we are so frightened of ourselves. We are so poor in ourselves that gossip acts as a form of rich entertainment, an escape from ourselves. We try to fill that emptiness in us with knowledge, with rituals, with gossip, with group meetings - with the innumerable ways of escape, so the escapes become all-important, and not the understanding of what is. The understanding of what is demands attention; to know that one is empty, that one is in pain, needs immense attention and not escapes, but most of us like these escapes, because they are much more pleasurable, more pleasant. Also, when we know ourselves as we are, it is very difficult to deal with ourselves; that is one of the problems with which we are faced. We don't know what to do. When I know that I am empty, that I am suffering, that I am in pain, I don't know what to do, how to deal with it. So one resorts to all kinds of escapes. The question is, what to do? Obviously, of course, one cannot escape; for that is most absurd and childish. But when you are faced with yourself as you are, what are you to do? First, is it possible not to deny or justify it but just to remain with it, as you are? - which is extremely arduous, because the mind seeks explanation, condemnation, identification. If it does not do any of those things but remains with it, then it is like accepting something. If I accept that I am brown, that is the end of it; but if I am desirous of changing to a lighter colour, then the problem arises. To accept what is is most difficult; one can do that only when there is no escape and condemnation or justification is a form of escape. Therefore when one understands the whole process of why one gossips and when one realizes the absurdity of it, the cruelty and all the things involved in it, then one is left with what one is; and we approach it always either to destroy it, or to change it into something else. If we don't do either of those things but approach it with the intention of understanding it, being with it completely, then we will find that it is no longer the thing that we dreaded. Then there is a possibility of transforming that which is. THE FIRST AND LAST FREEDOM QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS QUESTION 15 'ON CRITICISM' Question: What place has criticism in relationship? What is the difference between destructive and constructive criticism? Krishnamurti: First of all, why do we criticize? Is it in order to understand? Or is it merely a nagging process? If I criticize you, do I understand you? Does understanding come through judgement? If I want to comprehend, if I want to understand not superficially but deeply the whole significance of my relationship to you, do I begin to criticize you? Or am I aware of this relationship between you and me, silently observing it - not projecting my opinions, criticisms, judgements, identifications or condemnations, but silently observing what is happening? And if I do not criticize, what happens? One is apt to go to sleep, is one not? Which does not mean that we do not go to sleep if we are nagging. Perhaps that becomes a habit and we put ourselves to sleep through habit. Is there a deeper, wider understanding of relationship, through criticism? It doesn't matter whether criticism is constructive or destructive - that is irrelevant, surely. Therefore the question is: "What is the necessary state of mind and heart that will understand relationship?" What is the process of understanding? How do we understand something? How do you understand your child, if you are interested in your child? You observe, don't you? You watch him at play, you study him in his different moods; you don't project your opinion on to him. You don't say he should be this or that. You are alertly watchful, aren't you?, actively aware. Then, perhaps, you begin to understand the child. If you are constantly criticizing, constantly injecting your own particular personality, your idiosyncrasies, your opinions, deciding the way he should or should not be, and all the rest of it, obviously you create a barrier in that relationship. Unfortunately most of us criticize in order to shape, in order to interfere; it gives us a certain amount of pleasure, a certain gratification, to shape something - the relationship with a husband, child or whoever it may be. You feel a sense of power in it, you are the boss, and in that there is a tremendous gratification. Surely through all that process there is no understanding of relationship. There is mere imposition, the desire to mould another to the particular pattern of your idiosyncrasy, your desire, your wish. All these prevent, do they not?, the understanding of relationship. Then there is self-criticism. To be critical of oneself, to criticize, condemn, or justify oneself - does that bring understanding of oneself? When I begin to criticize myself, do I not limit the process of understanding, of exploring? Does introspection, a form of self-criticism, unfold the self? What makes the unfoldment of the self possible? To be constantly analytical, fearful, critical - surely that does not help to unfold. What brings about the unfoldment of the self so that you begin to understand it is the constant awareness of it without any condemnation, without any identification. There must be a certain spontaneity; you cannot be constantly analysing it, disciplining it, shaping it. This spontaneity is essential to understanding. If I merely limit, control, condemn, then I put a stop to the movement of thought and feeling, do I not? It is in the movement of thought and feeling that I discover - not in mere control. When one discovers, then it is important to find out how to act about it. If I act according to an idea, according to a standard, according to an ideal, then I force the self into a particular pattern. In that there is no understanding, there is no transcending. If I can watch the self without any condemnation, without any identification, then it is possible to go beyond it. That is why this whole process of approximating oneself to an ideal is so utterly wrong. Ideals are homemade gods and to conform to a self-projected image is surely not a release. Thus there can be understanding only when the mind is silently aware, observing - which is arduous, because we take delight in being active, in being restless, critical, in condemning, justifying. That is our whole structure of being; and, through the screen of ideas, prejudices, points of view, experiences, memories, we try to understand. Is it possible to be free of all these screens and so understand directly? Surely we do that when the problem is very intense; we do not go through all these methods - we approach it directly. The understanding of relationship comes only when this process of self-criticism is understood and the mind is quiet. If you are listening to me and are trying to follow, with not too great an effort, what I wish to convey, then there is a possibility of our understanding each other. But if you are all the time criticizing, throwing up your opinions, what you have learned from books, what somebody else has told you and so on and so on, then you and I are not related, because this screen is between us. If we are both trying to find out the issues of the problem, which lie in the problem itself, if both of us are eager to go to the bottom of it, find the truth of it, discover what it is - then we are related. Then your mind is both alert and passive, watching to see what is true in this. Therefore your mind must be extraordinarily swift, not anchored to any idea or ideal, to any judgement, to any opinion that you have consolidated through your particular experiences. Understanding comes, surely, when there is the swift pliability of a mind which is passively aware. Then it is capable of reception, then it is sensitive. A mind is not sensitive when it is crowded with ideas, prejudices, opinions, either for or against. To understand relationship, there must be a passive awareness -which does not destroy relationship. On the contrary, it makes relationship much more vital, much more significant. Then there is in that relationship a possibility of real affection; there is a warmth, a sense of nearness, which is not mere sentiment or sensation. If we can so approach or be in that relationship to everything, then our problems will be easily solved - the problems of property, the problems of possession, because we are that which we possess. The man who possesses money is the money. The man who identifies himself with property is the property or the house or the furniture. Similarly with ideas or with people; when there is possessiveness, there is no relationship. Most of us possess because we have nothing else if we do not possess. We are empty shells if we do not possess, if we do not fill our life with furniture, with music, with knowledge, with this or that. And that shell makes a lot of noise and that noise we call living; and with that we are satisfied. When there is a disruption, a breaking away of that, then there is sorrow, because then you suddenly discover yourself as you are - an empty shell, without much meaning. To be aware of the whole content of relationship is action, and from that action there is a possibility of true relationship, a possibility of discovering its great depth, its great significance and of knowing what love is. THE FIRST AND LAST FREEDOM QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS QUESTION 16 'ON BELIEF IN GOD' Question: Belief in God has been a powerful incentive to better liv1ng. Why do you deny God? Why do you not try to revive man's faith in the idea of God? Krishnamurti: Let us look at the problem widely and intelligently. I am not denying God - it would be foolish to do so. Only the man who does not know reality indulges in meaningless words. The man who says he knows, does not know; the man who is experiencing reality from moment to moment has no means of communicating that reality. Belief is a denial of truth, belief hinders truth; to believe in God is not to find God. Neither the believer nor the non-believer will find God; because reality is the unknown, and your belief or non-belief in the unknown is merely a self-projection and therefore not real. I know you believe and I know it has very little meaning in your life. There are many people who believe; millions believe in God and take consolation. First of all, why do you believe? You believe because it gives you satisfaction, consolation, hope, and you say it gives significance to life. Actually your belief has very little significance, because you believe and exploit, you believe and kill, you believe in a universal God and murder each other. The rich man also believes in God; he exploits ruthlessly, accumulates money, and then builds a temple or becomes a philanthropist. The men who dropped the atomic bomb on Hirosh1ma said that God was with them; those who flew from England to destroy Germany said that God was their co-pilot. The dictators, the prime ministers, the generals, the presidents, all talk of God, they have immense faith in God. Are they doing service, making a better life for man? The people who say they believe in God have destroyed half the world and the world is in complete misery. Through religious intolerance there are divisions of people as believers and non-believers, leading to religious wars. It indicates how extraordinarily politically-minded you are. Is belief in God "a powerful incentive to better living"? Why do you want an incentive to better living? Surely, your incentive must be your own desire to live cleanly and simply, must it not? If you look to an incentive you are not interested in making life possible for all, you are merely interested in your incentive, which is different from mine - and we will quarrel over the incentive. If we live happily together not because we believe in God but because we are human beings, then we will share the entire means of production in order to produce things for all. Through lack of intelligence we accept the idea of a super-intelligence which we call `God; but this `God', this super-intelligence, is not going to give us a better life. What leads to a better life is intelligence; and there cannot be intelligence if there is belief, if there are class divisions, if the means of production are in the hands of a few, if there are isolated nationalities and sovereign governments. All this obviously indicates lack of intelligence and it is the lack of intelligence that is preventing a better living, not non-belief in God. You all believe in different ways, but your belief has no reality whatsoever. Reality is what you are, what you do, what you think, and your belief in God is merely an escape from your monotonous, stupid and cruel life. Furthermore, belief invariably divides people: there is the Hindu, the Buddhist, the Christian, the communist, the socialist, the capitalist and so on. Belief, idea, divides; it never brings people together. You may bring a few people together in a group but that group is opposed to another group. Ideas and beliefs are never unifying; on the contrary, they are separative, disintegrating and destructive. Therefore your belief in God is really spreading misery in the world; though it may have brought you momentary consolation, in actuality it has brought you more misery and destruction in the form of wars, famines, class divisions and the ruthless action of separate individuals. So your belief has no validity at all. If you really believed in God, if it were a real experience to you, then your face would have a smile; you would not be destroying human beings. Now, what is reality, what is God? God is not the word, the word is not the thing. To know that which is immeasurable, which is not of time, the mind must be free of time, which means the mind must be free from all thought, from all ideas about God. What do you know about God or truth?, You do not really know anything about that reality. All that you know are words, the experiences of others or some moments of rather vague experience of your own. Surely that is not God, that is not reality, that is not beyond the field of time. To know that which is beyond time, the process of time must be understood, time being thought, the process of becoming, the accumulation of knowledge. That is the whole background of the mind; the mind itself is the background, both the conscious and the unconscious, the collective and the individual. So the mind must be free of the known, which means the mind must be completely silent, not made silent. The mind that achieves silence as a result, as the outcome of determined action, of practice, of discipline, is not a silent mind. The mind that is forced, controlled, shaped, put into a frame and kept quiet, is not a still mind. You may succeed for a period of time in forcing the mind to be superficially silent, but such a mind is not a still mind. Stillness comes only when you understand the whole process of thought, because to understand the process is to end it and the ending of the process of thought is the beginning of silence. Only when the mind is completely silent not only on the upper level but fundamentally, right through, on both the superficial and the deeper levels of consciousness - only then can the unknown come into being. The unknown is not something to be experienced by the mind; silence alone can be experienced, nothing but silence. If the mind experiences anything but silence, it is merely projecting its own desires and such a mind is not silent; so long as the mind is not silent, so long as thought in any form, conscious or unconscious, is in movement, there can be no silence. Silence is freedom from the past, from knowledge, from both conscious and unconscious memory; when the mind is completely silent, not in use, when there is the silence which is not a product of effort, then only does the timeless, the eternal come into being. That state is not a state of remembering - there is no entity that remembers, that experiences. Therefore God or truth or what you will is a thing that comes into being from moment to moment, and it happens only in a state of freedom and spontaneity, not when the mind is disciplined according to a pattern. God is not a thing of the mind, it does not come through self-projection, it comes only when there is virtue, which is freedom. Virtue is facing the fact of what is and the facing of the fact is a state of bliss. Only when the mind is blissful, quiet, without any movement of its own, without the projection of thought, conscious or unconscious - only then does the eternal come into being. THE FIRST AND LAST FREEDOM QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS QUESTION 17 'ON MEMORY' Question: Memory, you say, is incomplete experience. I have a memory and a vivid impression of your previous talks. In what sense is it an incomplete experience? Please explain this idea in all its details. Krishnamurti: What do we mean by memory? You go to school and are full of facts, technical knowledge. If you are an engineer, you use the memory of technical knowledge to build a bridge. That is factual memory. There is also psychological memory. You have said something to me, pleasant or unpleasant, and I retain it; when I next meet you, I meet you with that memory, the memory of what you have said or have not said. There are two facets to memory, the psychological and the factual. They are always interrelated, therefore not clear cut. We know that factual memory is essential as a means of livelihood but is psychological memory essential? What is the factor which retains the psychological memory? What makes one psychologically remember insult or praise? Why does one retain certain memories and reject others? Obviously one retains memories which are pleasant and avoids memories which are unpleasant. If you observe, you will see that painful memories are put aside more quickly than the pleasurable ones. Mind is memory, at whatever level, by whatever name you call it; mind is the product of the past, it is founded on the past, which is memory, a conditioned state. Now with that memory we meet life, we meet a new challenge. The challenge is always new and our response is always old, because it is the outcome of the past. So experiencing without memory is one state and experiencing with memory is another. That is there is a challenge, which is always new. I meet it with the response, with the conditioning of the old. So what happens? I absorb the new, I do not understand it; and the experiencing of the new is conditioned by the past. Therefore there is a partial understanding of the new, there is never complete understanding. It is only when there is complete understanding of anything that it does not leave the scar of memory. When there is a challenge, which is ever new, you meet it with the response of the old. The old response conditions the new and therefore twists it, gives it a bias, therefore there is no complete understanding of the new so that the new is absorbed into the old and accordingly strengthens the old. This may seem abstract but it is not difficult if you go into it a little closely and carefully. The situation in the world at the present time demands a new approach, a new way of tackling the world problem, which is ever new. We are incapable of approaching it anew because we approach it with our conditioned minds, with national, local, family and religious prejudices. Our previous experiences are acting as a barrier to the understanding of the new challenge, so we go on cultivating and strengthening memory and therefore we never understand the new, we never meet the challenge fully, completely. It is only when one is able to meet the challenge anew, afresh, without the past, only then does it yield its fruits, its riches. The questioner says, "I have a memory and a vivid impression of your previous talks. In what sense is it an incomplete experience?" Obviously, it is an incomplete experience if it is merely an impression, a memory. If you understand what has been said, see the truth of it, that truth is not a memory. Truth is not a memory, because truth is ever new, constantly transforming itself. You have a memory of the previous talk. Why? Because you are using the previous talk as a guide, you have not fully understood it. You want to go into it and unconsciously or consciously it is being maintained. If you understand something completely, that is see the truth of something wholly, you will find there is no memory whatsoever. Our education is the cultivation of memory, the strengthening of memory. Your religious practices and rituals, your reading and knowledge, are all the strengthening of memory. What do we mean by that? Why do we hold to memory? I do not know if you have noticed that, as one grows older, one looks back to the past, to its joys, to its pains, to its pleasures; if one is young, one looks to the future. Why are we doing this? Why has memory become so important? For the simple and obvious reason that we do not know how to live wholly, completely in the present. We are using the present as a means to the future and therefore the present has no significance. We cannot live in the present because we are using the present as a passage to the future. Because I am going to become something, there is never a complete understanding of myself, and to understand myself, what I am exactly now, does not require the cultivation of memory. On the contrary, memory is a hindrance to the understanding of what is. I do not know if you have noticed that a new thought, a new feeling, comes only when the mind is not caught in the net of memory. When there is an interval between two thoughts, between two memories, when that interval can be maintained, then out of that interval a new state of being comes which is no longer memory. We have memories, and we cultivate memory as a means of continuance. The `me' and the `mine' becomes very important so long as the cultivation of memory exists, and as most of us are made up of `me' and `mine', memory plays a very important part in our lives. If you had no memory, your property, your family, your ideas, would not be important as such; so to give strength to `me' and `mine', you cultivate memory. If you observe, you will see that there is an interval between two thoughts, between two emotions. In that interval, which is not the product of memory, there is an extraordinary freedom from the `me' and the `mine' and that interval is timeless. Let us look at the problem differently. Surely memory is time, is it not? Memory creates yesterday, today and tomorrow. Memory of yesterday conditions today and therefore shapes tomorrow. That is the past through the present creates the future. There is a time process going on, which is the will to become. Memory is time, and through time we hope to achieve a result. I am a clerk today and, given time and opportunity, I will become the manager or the owner. Therefore I must have time, and with the same mentality we say, "I shall achieve reality, I shall approach God". Therefore I must have time to realize, which mean I must cultivate memory, strengthen memory by practice, by discipline, to be something, to achieve, to gain, which mean continuation in time. Through time we hope to achieve the timeless, through time we hope to gain the eternal. Can you do that? Can you catch the eternal in the net of time, through memory, which is of time? The timeless can be only when memory, which is the `me' and the `mine', ceases. If you see the truth of that - that through time the timeless cannot be understood or received - then we can go into the problem of memory. The memory of technical things is essential; but the psychological memory that maintains the self, the `me' and the `mine', that gives identification and self-continuance, is wholly detrimental to life and to reality. When one sees the truth of that, the false drops away; therefore there is no psychological retention of yesterday's experience. You see a lovely sunset, a beautiful tree in a field and when you first look at it, you enjoy it completely, wholly; but you go back to it with the desire to enjoy it again. What happens when you go back with the desire to enjoy it? There is no enjoyment, because it is the memory of yesterday's sunset that is now making you return, that is pushing, urging you to enjoy. Yesterday there was no memory, only a spontaneous appreciation, a direct response; today you are desirous of recapturing the experience of yesterday. That is, memory is intervening between you and the sunset, therefore there is no enjoyment, there is no richness, fullness of beauty. Again, you have a friend, who said something to you yesterday, an insult or a compliment and you retain that memory; with that memory you meet your friend today. You do not really meet your friend - you carry with you the memory of yesterday, which intervenes. So we go on, surrounding ourselves and our actions with memory, and therefore there is no newness, no freshness. That is why memory makes life weary, dull and empty. We live in antagonism with each other because the `me' and the `mine' are strengthened through memory. Memory comes to life through action in the present; we give life to memory through the present but when we do not give life to memory, it fades away. Memory of facts, of technical things, is an obvious necessity, but memory as psychological retention is detrimental to the understanding of life, the communion with each other. THE FIRST AND LAST FREEDOM QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS QUESTION 18 'SURRENDER TO `WHAT IS'' Question: What is the difference between surrendering to the will of God and what you are saying about the acceptance of what is ? Krishnamurti: Surely there is a vast difference, is there not? Surrendering to the will of God implies that you already know the will of God. You are not surrendering to something you do not know. If you know reality, you cannot surrender to it; you cease to exist; there is no surrendering to a higher will. If you are surrendering to a higher will, then that higher will is the projection of yourself, for the real cannot be known through the known. It comes into being only when the known ceases to be. The known is a creation of the mind, because thought is the result of the known, of the past, and thought can only create what it knows; therefore what it knows is not the eternal. That is why, when you surrender to the will of God, you are surrendering to your own projections; it may be gratifying, comforting but it is not the real. To understand what is demands a different process - perhaps the word `process' is not right but what I mean is this: to understand what is is much more difficult, it requires greater intelligence, greater awareness, than merely to accept or give yourself over to an idea. To understand what is does not demand effort; effort is a distraction. To understand something, to understand what is you cannot be distracted, can you? If I want to understand what you are saying I cannot listen to music, to the noise of people outside, I must give my whole attention to it. Thus it is extraordinarily difficult and arduous to be aware of what is, because our very thinking has become a distraction. We do not want to understand what is. We look at what is through the spectacles of prejudice, of condemnation or of identification, and it is very arduous to remove these spectacles and to look at what is. Surely what is is a fact, is the truth, and all else is an escape, is not the truth. To understand what is, the conflict of duality must cease, because the negative response of becoming something other than what is is the denial of the understanding of what is. If I want to understand arrogance I must not go into the opposite, I must not be distracted by the effort of becoming or even by the effort of trying to understand what is. If I am arrogant, what happens? If I do not name arrogance, it ceases; which means that in the problem itself is the answer and not away from it. it is not a question of accepting what is; you do not accept what is, you do not accept that you are brown or white, because it is a fact; only when you are trying to become something else do you have to accept. The moment you recognize a fact it ceases to have any significance; but a mind that is trained to think of the past or of the future, trained to run away in multifarious directions, such a mind is incapable of understanding what is. Without understanding what is you cannot find what is real and without that understanding life has no significance, life is a constant battle wherein pain and suffering continue. The real can only be understood by understanding what is. It cannot be understood if there is any condemnation or identification. The mind that is always condemning or identifying cannot understand; it can only understand that within which it is caught. The understanding of what is, being aware of what is, reveals extraordinary depths, in which is reality, happiness and joy. THE FIRST AND LAST FREEDOM QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS QUESTION 19 'ON PRAYER AND MEDITATION' Question: Is not the longing expressed in prayer a way to God? Krishnamurti: First of all, we are going to examine the problems contained in this question. In it are implied prayer, concentration and meditation. Now what do we mean by prayer? First of all, in prayer there is petition, supplication to what you call God, reality. You, as an individual, are demanding, petitioning, begging, seeking guidance from something which you call God; therefore your approach is one of seeking a reward, seeking a gratification. You are in trouble, national or individual, and you pray for guidance; or you are confused and you beg for clarity, you look for help to what you call God. In this is implied that God, whatever God may be - we won't discuss that for the moment - is going to clear up the confusion which you and I have created. After all, it is we who have brought about the confusion, the misery, the chaos, the appalling tyranny, the lack of love, and we want what we call God to clear it up. In other words, we want our confusion, our misery, our sorrow, our conflict, to be cleared away by somebody else, we petition another to bring us light and happiness. Now when you pray, when you beg, petition for something, it generally comes into being. When you ask, you receive; but what you receive will not create order, because what you receive does not bring clarity, understanding. it only satisfies, gives gratification but does not bring about understanding, because, when you demand, you receive that which you yourself project. How can reality, God, answer your particular demand? Can the immeasurable, the unutterable, be concerned with our petty little worries, miseries, confusions, which we ourselves have created? Therefore what is it that answers? Obviously the immeasurable cannot answer the measured, the petty, the small. But what is it that answers? At the moment when we pray we are fairly silent, in a state of receptivity; then our own subconscious brings a momentary clarity. You want something, you are longing for it, and in that moment of longing, of obsequious begging, you are fairly receptive; your conscious, active mind is comparatively still, so the unconscious projects itself into that and you have an answer. It is surely not an answer from reality, from the immeasurable - it is your own unconscious responding. So don't let us be confused and think that when your prayer is answered you are in relationship with reality. Reality must come to you; you cannot go to it. In this problem of prayer there is another factor involved: the response of that which we call the inner voice. As I said, when the mind is supplicating, petitioning, it is comparatively still; when you hear the inner voice, it is your own voice projecting itself into that comparatively still mind. Again, how can it be the voice of reality? A mind that is confused, ignorant, craving, demanding, petitioning, how can it understand. reality? The mind can receive reality only when it is absolutely still, not demanding, not craving, not longing, not asking, whether for yourself, for the nation or for another. When the mind is absolutely still, when desire ceases, then only reality comes into being. A person who is demanding, petitioning, supplicating, longing for direction will find what he seeks but it will not be the truth. What he receives will be the response of the unconscious layers of his own mind which project themselves into the conscious; that still, small voice which directs him is not the real but only the response of the unconscious. In this problem of prayer there is also the question of concentration. With most of us, concentration is a process of exclusion. Concentration is brought about through effort, compulsion, direction, imitation, and so concentration is a process of exclusion. I am interested in so-called meditation but my thoughts are distracted, so I fix my mind on a picture, an image, or an idea and exclude all other thoughts. This process of concentration, which is exclusion, is considered to be a means of meditating. That is what you do, is it not? When you sit down to meditate, you fix your mind on a word, on an image, or on a picture but the mind wanders all over the place. There is the constant interruption of other ideas, other thoughts, other emotions and you try to push them away; you spend your time battling with your thoughts. This process you call meditation. That is you are trying to concentrate on something in which you are not interested and your thoughts keep on multiplying, increasing, interrupting, so you spend your energy in exclusion, in warding off; pushing away; if you can concentrate on your chosen thought, on a particular object, you think you have at last succeeded in meditation. Surely that is not meditation, is it? Meditation is not an exclusive process -exclusive in the sense of warding off, building resistance against encroaching ideas. Prayer is not meditation and concentration as exclusion is not meditation. What is meditation? Concentration is not meditation, because where there is interest it is comparatively easy to concentrate on something. A general who is planning war, butchery, is very concentrated. A business man making money is very concentrated -he may even be ruthless, putting aside every other feeling and concentrating completely on what he wants. A man who is interested in anything is naturally, spontaneously concentrated. Such concentration is not meditation, it is merely exclusion. So what is meditation? Surely meditation is understanding -meditation of the heart is understanding. How can there be understanding if there is exclusion? How can there be understanding when there is petition, supplication? In understanding there is peace, there is freedom; that which you understand, from that you are liberated. Merely to concentrate or to pray does not bring understanding. Understanding is the very basis, the fundamental process of meditation. You don't have to accept my word for it but if you examine prayer and concentration very carefully, deeply, you will find that neither of them leads to understanding. They merely lead to obstinacy, to a fixation, to illusion. Whereas meditation, in which there is understanding, brings about freedom, clarity and 1ntegration. What, then, do we mean by understanding? Understanding means giving right significance, right valuation, to all things. To be ignorant is to give wrong values; the very nature of stupidity is the lack of comprehension of right values. Understanding comes into being when there are right values, when right values are established. And how is one to establish right values - the right value of property, the right value of relationship, the right value of ideas? For the right values to come into being, you must understand the thinker, must you not? If I don't understand the thinker, which is myself what I choose has no meaning; that is if I don't know myself, then my action, my thought, has no foundation whatsoever. Therefore self-knowledge is the beginning of meditation - not the knowledge that you pick up from my books, from authorities, from gurus, but the knowledge that comes into being through self-inquiry, which is self-awareness. Meditation is the beginning of self-knowledge and without self-knowledge there is no meditation. If I don't understand the ways of my thoughts, of my feelings, if I don't understand my motives, my desires, my demands, my pursuit of patterns of action, which are ideas - if I do not know myself, there is no foundation for thinking; the thinker who merely asks, prays, or excludes, without understanding himself, must inevitably end in confusion, in illusion. The beginning of meditation is self-knowledge, which means being aware of every movement of thought and feeling, knowing all the layers of my consciousness, not only the superficial layers but the hidden, the deeply concealed activities. To know the deeply concealed activities, the hidden motives, responses, thoughts and feelings, there must be tranquillity in the conscious mind; that is the conscious mind must be still in order to receive the projection of the unconscious. The superficial, conscious mind is occupied with its daily activities, with earning a livelihood, deceiving others, exploiting others, running away from problems - all the daily activities of our existence. That superficial mind must understand the right significance of its own activities and thereby bring tranquillity to itself. It cannot bring about tranquillity, stillness, by mere regimentation, by compulsion, by discipline. It can bring about tranquillity, peace, stillness, only by understanding its own activities, by observing them, by being aware of them, by seeing its own ruthlessness, how it talks to the servant, to the wife, to the daughter, to the mother and so on. When the superficial, conscious mind 1s thus fully aware of all its activities, through that understanding it becomes spontaneously quiet, not drugged by compulsion or regimented by desire; then it is in a position to receive the intimation, the hints of the unconscious, of the many, many hidden layers of the mind - the racial instincts, the buried memories, the concealed pursuits, the deep wounds that are still unhealed. It is only when all these have projected themselves and are understood, when the whole consciousness is unburdened, unfettered by any wound, by any memory whatsoever, that it is in a position to receive the eternal. Meditation is self-knowledge and without self-knowledge there is no meditation. If you are not aware of all your responses all the time, if you are not fully conscious, fully cognizant of your daily activities, merely to lock yourself in a room and sit down in front of a picture of your guru, of your Master, to meditate, is an escape, because without self-knowledge there is no right thinking and, without right thinking, what you do has no meaning, however noble your intentions are. Thus prayer has no significance without self-knowledge but when there is self-knowledge there is right thinking and hence right action. When there is right action, there is no confusion and therefore there is no supplication to someone else to lead you out of it. A man who is fully aware is meditating; he does not pray, because he does not want anything. Through prayer, through regimentation, through repetition and all the rest of it, you can bring about a certain stillness, but that is mere dullness, reducing the mind and the heart to a state of weariness. it is drugging the mind; and exclusion, which you call concentration, does not lead to reality - no exclusion ever can. What brings about understanding is self-knowledge, and it is not very difficult to be aware if there is right intention. If you are interested to discover the whole process of yourself - not merely the superficial part but the total process of your whole being - then it is comparatively easy. If you really want to know yourself, you will search out your heart and your mind to know their full content and when there is the intention to know, you will know. Then you can follow, without condemnation or justification, every movement of thought and feeling; by following every thought and every feeling as it arises you bring about tranquillity which is not compelled, not regimented, but which is the outcome of having no problem, no contradiction. It is like the pool that becomes peaceful, quiet, any evening when there is no wind; when the mind is still, then that which is immeasurable comes into being. THE FIRST AND LAST FREEDOM QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS QUESTION 20 'ON THE CONSCIOUS AND UNCONSCIOUS MIND' Question: The conscious mind is ignorant and afraid of the unconscious mind. You are addressing mainly the conscious mind and is that enough? Will your method bring about release of the unconscious? Please explain in detail how one can tackle the unconscious mind fully. Krishnamurti: We are aware that there is the conscious and the unconscious mind but most of us function only on the conscious level, in the upper layer of the mind, and our whole life is practically limited to that. We live in the so-called conscious mind and we never pay attention to the deeper unconscious mind from which there is occasionally an intimation, a hint; that hint is disregarded, perverted or translated according to our particular conscious demands at the moment. Now the questioner asks, "You are addressing mainly the conscious mind and is that enough?" Let us see what we mean by the conscious mind. Is the conscious mind different from the unconscious mind? We have divided the conscious from the unconscious; is this justified? Is this true? Is there such a division between the conscious and the unconscious? Is there a definite barrier, a line where the conscious ends and the unconscious begins? We are aware that the upper layer, the conscious mind, is active but is that the only instrument that is active throughout the day? If I were addressing merely the upper layer of the mind, then surely what I am saying would be valueless, it would have no meaning. Yet most of us cling to what the conscious mind has accepted, because the conscious mind finds it convenient to adjust to certain obvious facts; but the unconscious may rebel, and often does, and so there is conflict between the so-called conscious and the unconscious. Therefore, our problem is this, is it not? There is in fact only one state, not two states such as the conscious and the unconscious; there is only a state of being, which is consciousness, though you may divide it as the conscious and the unconscious. But that consciousness is always of the past, never of the present; you are conscious only of things that are over. You are conscious of what I am trying to convey the second afterwards, are you not; you understand it a moment later. You are never conscious or aware of the now. Watch your own hearts and minds and you will see that consciousness is functioning between the past and the future and that the present is merely a passage of the past to the future. Consciousness is therefore a movement of the past to the future. If you watch your own mind at work, you will see that the movement to the past and to the future is a process in which the present is not. Either the past is a means of escape from the present, which may be unpleasant, or the future is a hope away from the present. So the mind is occupied with the past or with the future and sloughs off the present. That is the mind is conditioned by the past, conditioned as an Indian, a Brahmin or a non-Brahmin, a Christian, a Buddhist and so on, and that conditioned mind projects itself into the future; therefore it is never capable of looking directly and impartially at any fact. It either condemns and rejects the fact or accepts and identifies itself with the fact. Such a mind is obviously not capable of seeing any fact as a fact. That is our state of consciousness which is conditioned by the past and our thought is the conditioned response to the challenge of a fact; the more you respond according to the conditioning of belief, of the past, the more there is the strengthening of the past. That strengthening of the past is obviously the continuity of itself, which it calls the future. So that is the state of our mind, of our consciousness - a pendulum swinging backwards and forwards between the past and the future. That is our consciousness, which is made up not only of the upper layers of the mind but of the deeper layers as well. Such consciousness obviously cannot function at a different level, because it only knows those two movements of backwards and forwards. If you watch very carefully you will see that it is not a constant movement but that there is an interval between two thoughts; though it may be but an infinitesimal fraction of a second, there is an interval that has significance in the swinging backwards and forwards of the pendulum. We see the fact that our thinking is conditioned by the past which is projected into the future; the moment you admit the past, you must also admit the future, because there are not two such states as the past and the future but one state which includes both the conscious and the unconscious, both the collective past and the individual past. The collective and the individual past, in response to the present, give out certain responses which create the individual consciousness; therefore consciousness is of the past and that is the whole background of our existence. The moment you have the past, you inevitably have the future, because the future is merely the continuity of the modified past but it is still the past, so our problem is how to bring about a transformation in this process of the past without creating another conditioning, another past. To put it differently, the problem is this: Most of us reject one particular form of conditioning and find another form, a wider, more significant or more pleasant conditioning. You give up one religion and take on another, reject one form of belief and accept another. Such substitution is obviously not understanding life, life being relationship. Our problem is how to be free from all conditioning. Either you say it is impossible, that no human mind can ever be free from conditioning, or you begin to experiment, to inquire, to discover. If you assert that it is impossible, obviously you are out of the running. Your assertion may be based on limited or wide experience or on the mere acceptance of a belief but such assertion is the denial of search, of research, of inquiry, of discovery. To find out if it is possible for the mind to be completely free from all conditioning, you must be free to inquire and to discover. Now I say it is definitely possible for the mind to be free from all conditioning - not that you should accept my authority. If you accept it on authority, you will never discover, it will be another substitution and that will have no significance. When I say it is possible, I say it because for me it is a fact and I can show it to you verbally, but if you are to find the truth of it for yourself, you must experiment with it and follow it swiftly. The understanding of the whole process of conditioning does not come to you through analysis or introspection, because the moment you have the analyser that very analyser himself is part of the background and therefore his analysis is of no significance. That is a fact and you must put it aside. The analyser who examines, who analyses the thing which he is looking at, is himself part of the conditioned state and therefore whatever his interpretation, his understanding, his analysis may be, it is still part of the background. So that way there is no escape and to break the background is essential, because to meet the challenge of the new, the mind must be new; to discover God, truth, or what you will, the mind must be fresh, uncontaminated by the past. To analyse the past, to arrive at conclusions through a series of experiments, to make assertions and denials and all the rest of it, implies, in its very essence, the continuance of the background in different forms; when you see the truth of that fact you will discover that the analyser has come to an end. Then there is no entity apart from the background: there is only thought as the background, thought being the response of memory, both conscious and unconscious, individual and collective. The mind is the result of the past, which is the process of conditioning. How is it possible for the mind to be free? To be free, the mind must not only see and understand its pendulum-like swing between the past and the future but also be aware of the interval between thoughts. That interval is spontaneous, it is not brought about through any causation, through any wish, through any compulsion. If you watch very carefully, you will see that though the response, the movement of thought, seems so swift, there are gaps, there are intervals between thoughts. Between two thoughts there is a period of silence which is not related to the thought process. If you observe you will see that that period of silence, that interval, is not of time and the discovery of that interval, the full experiencing of that interval, liberates you from conditioning - or rather it does not liberate `you' but there is liberation from conditioning. So the understanding of the process of thinking is meditation. We are now not only discussing the structure and the process of thought, which is the background of memory, of experience, of knowledge, but we are also trying to find out if the mind can liberate itself from the background. It is only when the mind is not giving continuity to thought, when it is still with a stillness that is not induced, that is without any causation - it is only then that there can be freedom from the background. THE FIRST AND LAST FREEDOM QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS QUESTION 21 'ON SEX' Question: We know sex as an inescapable physical and psychological necessity and it seems to be a root cause of chaos in the personal life of our generation. How can we deal with this problem? Krishnamurti: Why is it that whatever we touch we turn into a problem? We have made God a problem, we have made love a problem, we have made relationship, living a problem, and we have made sex a problem. Why? Why is everything we do a problem, a horror? Why are we suffering? Why has sex become a problem? Why do we submit to living with problems, why do we not put an end to them? Why do we not die to our problems instead of carrying them day after day, year after year? Sex is certainly a relevant question but there is the primary question, why do we make life into a problem? Working, sex, earning money, thinking, feeling, experiencing - you know, the whole business of living -why is it a problem? Is it not essentially because we always think from a particular point of view, from a fixed point of view? We are always thinking from a centre towards the periphery but the periphery is the centre for most of us and so anything we touch is superficial. But life is not superficial; it demands living completely and because we are living only superficially we know only superficial reaction. Whatever we do on the periphery must inevitably create a problem, and that is our life: we live in the superficial and we are content to live there with all the problems of the superficial. Problems exist so long as we live in the superficial, on the periphery, the periphery being the `me' and its sensations, which can be externalized or made subjective, which can be identified with the universe, with the country or with some other thing made up by the mind. So long as we live within the field of the mind there must be complications, there must be problems; that is all we know. Mind is sensation, mind is the result of accumulated sensations and reactions and anything it touches is bound to create misery, confusion, an endless problem. The mind is the real cause of our problems, the mind that is working mechanically night and day, consciously and unconsciously. The mind is a most superficial thing and we have spent generations, we spend our whole lives, cultivating the mind, making it more and more clever, more and more subtle, more and more cunning, more and more dishonest and crooked, all of which is apparent in every activity of our life. The very nature of our mind is to be dishonest, crooked, incapable of facing facts, and that is the thing which creates problems; that is the thing which is the problem itself. What do we mean by the problem of sex? Is it the act, or is it a thought about the act? Surely it is not the act. The sexual act is no problem to you, any more than eating is a problem to you, but if you think about eating or anything else all day long because you have nothing else to think about, it becomes a problem to you. Is the sexual act the problem or is it the thought about the act? Why do you think about it? Why do you build it up, which you are obviously doing? The cinemas, the magazines, the stories, the way women dress, everything is building up your thought of sex. Why does the mind build it up, why does the mind think about sex at all? Why? Why has it become a central issue in your life? When there are so many things calling, demanding your attention, you give complete attention to the thought of sex. What happens, why are your minds so occupied with it? Because that is a way of ultimate escape, is it not? It is a way of complete self-forgetfulness. For the time being, at least for that moment, you can forget yourself - and there is no other way of forgetting yourself. Everything else you do in life gives emphasis to the `me', to the self. Your business, your religion, your gods, your leaders, your political and economic actions, your escapes, your social activities, your joining one party and rejecting another - all that is emphasizing and giving strength to the `me'. That is there is only one act in which there is no emphasis on the `me', so it becomes a problem, does it not? When there is only one thing in your life which is an avenue to ultimate escape to complete forgetfulness of yourself if only for a few seconds, you cling to it because that is the only moment in which you are happy. Every other issue you touch becomes a nightmare, a source of suffering and pain, so you cling to the one thing which gives complete self-forgetfulness, which you call happiness. But when you cling to it, it too becomes a nightmare, because then you want to be free from it, you do not want to be a slave to it. So you invent, again from the mind, the idea of chastity, of celibacy, and you try to be celibate, to be chaste, through suppression, all of which are operations of the mind to cut itself off from the fact. This again gives particular emphasis to the `me' who is trying to become something, so again you are caught in travail, in trouble, in effort, in pain. Sex becomes an extraordinarily difficult and complex problem so long as you do not understand the mind which thinks about the problem. The act itself can never be a problem but the thought about the act creates the problem. The act you safeguard; you live loosely, or indulge yourself in marriage, thereby making your wife into a prostitute which is all apparently very respectable, and you are satisfied to leave it at that. Surely the problem can be solved only when you understand the whole process and structure of the `me' and the `mine: my wife, my child, my property, my car, my achievement, my success; until you understand and resolve all that, sex as a problem will remain. So long as you are ambitious, politically, religiously or in any way, so long as you are emphasizing the self, the thinker, the experiencer, by feeding him on ambition whether in the name of yourself as an individual or in the name of the country, of the party or of an idea which you call religion - so long as there is this activity of self-expansion, you will have a sexual problem. You are creating, feeding, expanding yourself on the one hand, and on the other you are trying to forget yourself, to lose yourself if only for a moment. How can the two exist together? Your life is a contradiction; emphasis on the `me' and forgetting the `me'. Sex is not a problem; the problem is this contradiction in your life; and the contradiction cannot be bridged over by the mind, because the mind itself is a contradiction. The contradiction can be understood only when you understand fully the whole process of your daily existence. Going to the cinemas and watching women on the screen, reading books which stimulate the thought, the magazines with their half-naked pictures, your way of looking at women, the surreptitious eyes that catch yours - all these things are encouraging the mind through devious ways to emphasize the self and at the same time you try to be kind, loving, tender. The two cannot go together. The man who is ambitious, spiritually or otherwise, can never be without a problem, because problems cease only when the self is forgotten, when the `me' is non-existent, and that state of the non-existence of the self is not an act of will, it is not a mere reaction. Sex becomes a reaction; when the mind tries to solve the problem, it only makes the problem more confused, more troublesome, more painful. The act is not the problem but the mind is the problem, the mind which says it must be chaste. Chastity is not of the mind. The mind can only suppress its own activities and suppression is not chastity. Chastity is not a virtue, chastity cannot be cultivated. `The man who is cultivating humility is surely not a humble man; he may call his pride humility, but he is a proud man, and that is why he seeks to become humble. Pride can never become humble and chastity is not a thing of the mind - you cannot become chaste. You will know chastity only when there is love, and love is not of the mind nor a thing of the mind. Therefore the problem of sex which tortures so many people all over the world cannot be resolved till the mind is understood. We cannot put an end to thinking but thought comes to an end when the thinker ceases and the thinker ceases only when there is an understanding of the whole process. Fear comes into being when there is division between the thinker and his thought; when there is no thinker, then only is there no conflict in thought. What is implicit needs no effort to understand. The thinker comes into being through thought; then the thinker exerts himself to shape, to control his thoughts or to put an end to them. The thinker is a fictitious entity, an illusion of the mind. When there is a realization of thought as a fact, then there is no need to think about the fact. If there is simple, choiceless awareness, then that which is implicit in the fact begins to reveal itself. Therefore thought as fact ends. Then you will see that the problems which are eating at our hearts and minds, the problems of our social structure, can be resolved. Then sex is no longer a problem, it has its proper place, it is neither an impure thing nor a pure thing. Sex has its place; but when the mind gives it the predominant place, then it becomes a problem. The mind gives sex a predominant place because it cannot live without some happiness and so sex becomes a problem; when the mind understands its whole process and so comes to an end, that is when thinking ceases, then there is creation and it is that creation which makes us happy. To be in that state of creation is bliss, because it is self-forgetfulness in which there is no reaction as from the self. This is not an abstract answer to the daily problem of sex - it is the only answer. The mind denies love and without love there is no chastity; it is because there is no love that you make sex into a problem. THE FIRST AND LAST FREEDOM QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS QUESTION 22 'ON LOVE' Question: What do you mean by love ? Krishnamurti: We are going to discover by understanding what love is not, because, as love is the unknown, we must come to it by discarding the known. The unknown cannot be discovered by a mind that is full of the known. What we are going to do is to find out the values of the known, look at the known, and when that is looked at purely, without condemnation, the mind becomes free from the known; then we shall know what love is. So, we must approach love negatively, not positively. What is love with most of us? When we say we love somebody, what do we mean? We mean we possess that person. From that possession arises jealousy, because if I lose him or her what happens? I feel empty, lost; therefore I legalize possession; I hold him or her. From holding, possessing that person, there is jealousy, there is fear and all the innumerable conflicts that arise from possession. Surely such possession is not love, is it? Obviously love is not sentiment. To be sentimental, to be emotional, is not love, because sentimentality and emotion are mere sensations. A religious person who weeps about Jesus or Krishna, about his guru or somebody else, is merely sentimental, emotional. He is indulging in sensation, which is a process of thought, and thought is not love. Thought is the result of sensation, so the person who is sentimental, who is emotional, cannot possibly know love. Again, aren't we emotional and sentimental? Sentimentality, emotionalism, is merely a form of self-expansion. To be full of emotion is obviously not love, because a sentimental person can be cruel when his sentiments are not responded to, when his feelings have no outlet. An emotional person can be stirred to hatred, to war, to butchery. A man who is sentimental, full of tears for his religion, surely has no love. Is forgiveness love? What is implied in forgiveness? You insult me and I resent it, remember it; then, either through compulsion or through repentance, I say, "I forgive you". First I retain and then I reject. Which means what? I am still the central figure. I am still important, it is I who am forgiving somebody. As long as there is the attitude of forgiving it is I who am important, not the man who is supposed to have insulted me. So when I accumulate resentment and then deny that resentment, which you call forgiveness, it is not love. A man who loves obviously has no enmity and to all these things he is indifferent. Sympathy, forgiveness, the relationship of possessiveness, jealousy and fear - all these things are not love. They are all of the mind, are they not? As long as the mind is the arbiter, there is no love, for the mind arbitrates only through possessiveness and its arbitration is merely possessiveness in different forms. The mind can only corrupt love, it cannot give birth to love, it cannot give beauty. You can write a poem about love, but that is not love. Obviously there is no love when there is no real respect, when you don't respect another, whether he is your servant or your friend. Have you not noticed that you are not respectful, kindly, generous, to your servants, to people who are so-called `below' you? You have respect for those above, for your boss, for the millionaire, for the man with a large house and a title, for the man who can give you a better position, a better job, from whom you can get something. But you kick those below you, you have a special language for them. Therefore where there is no respect, there is no love; where there is no mercy, no pity, no forgiveness, there is no love. And as most of us are in this state we have no love. We are neither respectful nor merciful nor generous. We are possessive, full of sentiment and emotion which can be turned either way: to kill, to butcher or to unify over some foolish, ignorant intention. So how can there be love? You can know love only when all these things have stopped, come to an end, only when you don't possess, when you are not merely emotional with devotion to an object. Such devotion is a supplication, seeking something in a different form. A man who prays does not know love. Since you are possessive, since you seek an end, a result, through devotion, through prayer, which make you sentimental, emotional, naturally there is no love; obviously there is no love when there is no respect. You may say that you have respect but your respect is for the superior, it is merely the respect that comes from wanting something, the respect of fear. If you really felt respect, you would be respectful to the lowest as well as to the so-called highest; since you haven't that, there is no love. How few of us are generous, forgiving, merciful! You are generous when it pays you, you are merciful when you can see something in return. When these things disappear, when these things don't occupy your mind and when the things of the mind don't fill your heart, then there is love; and love alone can transform the present madness and insanity in the world - not systems, not theories, either of the left or of the right. You really love only when you do not possess, when you are not envious, not greedy, when you are respectful, when you have mercy and compassion, when you have consideration for your wife, your children, your neighbour, your unfortunate servants. Love cannot be thought about, love cannot be cultivated, love cannot be practised. The practice of love, the practice of brotherhood, is still within the field of the mind, therefore it is not love. When all this has stopped, then love comes into being, then you will know what it is to love. Then love is not quantitative but qualitative. You do not say, "I love the whole world" but when you know how to love one, you know how to love the whole. Because we do not know how to love one, our love of humanity is fictitious. When you love, there is neither one nor many: there is only love. It is only when there is love that all our problems can be solved and then we shall know its bliss and its happiness. THE FIRST AND LAST FREEDOM QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS QUESTION 23 'ON DEATH' Question: What relation has death to life? Krishnamurti: Is there a division between life and death? Why do we regard death as something apart from life? Why are we afraid of death? And why have so many books been written about death? Why is there this line of demarcation between life and death? And is that separation real, or merely arbitrary, a thing of the mind? When we talk about life, we mean living as a process of continuity in which there is identification. Me and my house, me and my wife, me and my bank account, me and my past experiences - that is what we mean by life, is it not? Living is a process of continuity in memory, conscious as well as unconscious, with its various struggles, quarrels, incidents, experiences and so on. All that is what we call life; in opposition to that there is death, which is putting an end to all that. Having created the opposite, which is death, and being afraid of it, we proceed to look for the relationship between life and death; if we can bridge the gap with some explanation, with belief in continuity, in the hereafter, we are satisfied. We believe in reincarnation or in some other form of continuity of thought and then we try to establish a relationship between the known and the unknown. We try to bridge the known and the unknown and thereby try to find the relationship between the past and the future. That is what we are doing, is it not?, when we inquire if there is any relationship between life and death. We want to know how to bridge the living and the ending - that is our fundamental desire. Now, can the end, which is death, be known while living? If we can know what death is while we are living, then we shall have no problem. It is because we cannot experience the unknown while we are living that we are afraid of it. Our struggle is to establish a relationship between ourselves, which is the result of the known, and the unknown which we call death. Can there be a relationship between the past and something which the mind cannot conceive, which we call death? Why do we separate the two? Is it not because our mind can function only within the field of the known, within the field of the continuous? One only knows oneself as a thinker, as an actor with certain memories of misery, of pleasure, of love, affection, of various kids of experience; one only knows oneself as being continuous - otherwise one would have no recollection of oneself as being something. Now when that something comes to the end, which we call death, there is fear of the unknown; so we want to draw the unknown into the known and our whole effort is to give continuity to the unknown. That is, we do not want to know life, which includes death, but we want to know how to continue and not come to an end. We do not want to know life and death, we only want to know how to continue without ending. That which continues has no renewal. There can be nothing new, there can be nothing creative, in that which has continuance -which is fairly obvious. It is only when continuity ends that there is a possibility of that which is ever new. But it is this ending that we dread and we don't see that only in ending can there be renewal, the creative, the unknown - not in carrying over from day to day our experiences, our memories and misfortunes. It is only when we die each day to all that is old that there can be the new. The new cannot be where there is continuity - the new being the creative, the unknown, the eternal, God or what you will. The person, the continuous entity, who seeks the unknown, the real, the eternal, will never find it, because he can find only that which he projects out of himself and that which he projects is not the real. Only in ending, in dying, can the new be known; and the man who seeks to find a relationship between life and death, to bridge the continuous with that which he thinks is beyond, is living in a fictitious, unreal world, which is a projection of himself. Now is it possible, while living, to die - which means coming to an end, being as nothing? Is it possible, while living in this world where everything is becoming more and more or becoming less and less, where everything is a process of climbing, achieving, succeeding, is it possible, in such a world, to know death? Is it possible to end all memories - not the memory of facts, the way to your house and so on, but the inward attachment through memory to psychological security, the memories that one has accumulated, stored up, and in which one seeks security, happiness? Is it possible to put an end to all that - which means dying every day so that there may be a renewal tomorrow? It is only then that one knows death while living. Only in that dying, in that coming to an end, putting an end to continuity, is there renewal, that creation which is eternal. THE FIRST AND LAST FREEDOM QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS QUESTION 24 'ON TIME' Question: Can the past dissolve all at once, or does it invariably need time ? Krishnamurti: We are the result of the past. Our thought is founded upon yesterday and many thousand yesterdays. We are the result of time, and our responses, our present attitudes, are the cumulative effect of many thousand moments, incidents and experiences. So the past is, for the majority of us, the present, which is a fact which cannot be denied. You, your thoughts, your actions, your responses, are the result of the past. Now the questioner wants to know if that past can be wiped out immediately, which means not in time but immediately wiped out; or does this cumulative past require time for the mind to be freed in the present? It is important to understand the question, which is this: As each one of us is the result of the past, with a background of innumerable influences, constantly varying, constantly changing, is it possible to wipe out that background without going through the process of time? What is the past? What do we mean by the past? Surely we do not mean the chronological past. We mean, surely, the accumulated experiences, the accumulated responses, memories, traditions, knowledge, the subconscious storehouse of innumerable thoughts, feelings, influences and responses. With that background, it is not possible to understand reality, because reality must be of no time: it is timeless. So one cannot understand the timeless with a mind which is the outcome of time. The questioner wants to know if it is possible to free the mind, or for the mind, which is the result of time, to cease to be immediately; or must one go through a long series of examinations and analyses and so free the mind from its background. The mind is the background; the mind is the result of time; the mind is the past, the mind is not the future. It can project itself into the future and the mind uses the present as a passage into the future, so it is still - whatever it does, whatever its activity, its future activity, its present activity, its past activity - in the net of time. Is it possible for the mind to cease completely, for the thought process to come to an end? Now there are obviously many layers to the mind; what we call consciousness has many layers, each layer interrelated with the other layer, each layer dependent on the other, interacting; our whole consciousness is not only experiencing but also naming or terming and storing up as memory. That is the whole process of consciousness, is it not ? When we talk about consciousness, do we not mean the experiencing, the naming or the terming of that experience and thereby storing up that experience in memory? All this, at different levels, is consciousness. Can the mind, which is the result of time, go through the process of analysis, step by step, in order to free itself from the background or is it possible to be free entirely from time and look at reality directly? To be free of the background, many of the analysts say that you must examine every response, every complex, every hindrance, every blockage, which obviously implies a process of time. This means the analyser must understand what he is analysing and he must not misinterpret what he analyses. If he mistranslates what he analyses it will lead him to wrong conclusions and therefore establish another background. The analyser must be capable of analysing his thoughts and feelings without the slightest deviation; and he must not miss one step in his analysis, because to take a wrong step, to draw a wrong conclusion, is to re-establish a background along a different line, on a different level. This problem also arises: Is the analyser different from what he analyses? Are not the analyser and the thing that is analysed a joint phenomenon? Surely the experiencer and the experience are a joint phenomenon; they are not two separate processes, so first of all let us see the difficulty of analysing. It is almost impossible to analyse the whole content of our consciousness and thereby be free through that process. After all, who is the analyser? The analyser is not different, though he may think he is different, from that which he is analysing. He may separate himself from that which he analyses but the analyser is part of that which he analyses. I have a thought, I have a feeling - say, for exampLe, I am angry. The person who analyses anger is still part of anger and therefore the analyser as well as the analysed are a joint phenomenon, they are not two separate forces or processes. So the difficulty of analysing ourselves, unfolding, looking at ourselves page after page, watching every reaction, every response, is incalculably difficult and long. Therefore that is not the way to free ourselves from the background, is it? There must be a much simpler, a more direct way, and that is what you and I are going to find out. In order to find out we must discard that which is false and not hold on to it. So analysis is not the way, and we must be free of the process of analysis. Then what have you left? You are only used to analysis, are you not? The observer observing - the observer and the observed being a joint phenomenon - the observer trying to analyse that which he observes will not free him from his background. If that is so, and it is, you abandon that process, do you not? If you see that it is a false way, if you realize not merely verbally but actually that it is a false process, then what happens to your analysis? You stop analysing, do you not? Then what have you left? Watch it, follow it, and you will see how rapidly and swiftly one can be free from the background. If that is not the way, what else have you left? What is the state of the mind which is accustomed to analysis, to probing, looking into, dissecting, drawing conclusions and so on? If that process has stopped, what is the state of your mind? You say that the mind is blank. Proceed further into that blank mind. In other words, when you discard what is known as being false, what has happened to your mind? After all, what have you discarded? You have discarded the false process which is the outcome of a background. Is that not so? With one blow, as it were, you have discarded the whole thing. Therefore your mind, when you discard the analytical process with all its implications and see it as false, is freed from yesterday and therefore is capable of looking directly, without; going through the process of time, and thereby discarding the background immediately. To put the whole question differently, thought is the result of time, is it not? Thought is the result of environment, of social and religious influences, which is all part of time. Now, can thought be free of time? That is, thought which is the result of time, can it stop and be free from the process of time? Thought can be controlled, shaped; but the control of thought is still within the field of time and so our difficulty is: How can a mind that is the result of time, of many thousand yesterdays, be instantaneously free of this complex background? You can be free of it, not tomorrow but in the present, in the now. That can be done only when you realize that which is false; and the false is obviously the analytical process and that is the only thing we have. When the analytical process completely stops, not through enforcement but through understanding the inevitable falseness of that process, then you will find that your mind is completely dissociated from the past - which does not mean that you do not recognize the past but that your mind has no direct communion with the past. So it can free itself from the past immediately, now, and this dissociation from the past, this complete freedom from yesterday, not chronologically but psychologically, is possible; and that is the only way to understand reality. To put it very simply, when you want to understand something, what is the state of your mind? When you want to understand your child, when you want to understand somebody, something that someone is saying, what is the state of your mind? You are not analysing, criticizing, judging what the other is saying; you are listening, are you not? Your mind is in a state where the thought process is not active but is very alert. That alertness is not of time, is it? You are merely being alert, passively receptive and yet fully aware; and it is only in this state that there is understanding. When the mind is agitated, questioning, worrying, dissecting, analysing, there is no understanding. When there is the intensity to understand, the mind is obviously tranquil. This, of course, you have to experiment with, not take my word for it, but you can see that the more and more you analyse, the less and less you understand. You may understand certain events, certain experiences, but the whole content of consciousness cannot be emptied through the analytical process. It can be emptied only when you see the falseness of the approach through analysis. When you see the false as the false, then you begin to see what is true; and it is truth that is going to liberate you from the background. THE FIRST AND LAST FREEDOM QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS QUESTION 25 'ON ACTION WITHOUT IDEA' Question: For Truth to come, you advocate action without idea. Is it possible to act at all times without idea, that is, without a purpose in view? Krishnamurti: What is our action at present? What do we mean by action? Our action - what we want to do or to be - is based on idea, is it not? That is all we know; we have ideas, ideals, promises, various formulas as to what we are and what we are not. The basis of our action is reward in the future or fear of punishment. We know that, don't we? Such activity is isolating, self-enclosing. You have an idea of virtue and according to that idea you live, you act, in relationship. To you, relationship, collective or individual, is action which is towards the ideal, towards virtue, towards achievement and so on. When my action is based on an ideal which is an idea - such as "I must be brave", "I must follow the example", "I must he charitable", "I must be socially conscious" and so on - that idea shapes my action, guides my action. We all say, "There is an example of virtue which I must follow; which means, "I must live according to that". So action is based on that idea. Between action and idea, there is a gulf, a division, there is a time process. That is so, is it not? In other words, I am not charitable, I am not loving, there is no forgiveness in my heart but I feel I must be charitable. So there is a gap, between what I am and what I should be; we are all the time trying to bridge that gap. That is our activity, is it not? Now what would happen if the idea did not exist? At one stroke, you would have removed the gap, would you not? You would be what you are. You say "I am ugly, I must become beautiful; what am I to do?" - which is action based on idea. You say "I am not compassionate, I must become compassionate". So you introduce idea separate from action. Therefore there is never true action of what you are but always action based on the ideal of what you will he. The stupid man always says he is going to become clever. He sits working, struggling to become; he never stops, he never says "I am stupid". So his action, which is based on idea, is not action at all. Action means doing, moving. But when you have idea, it is merely ideation going on, thought process going on in relation to action. If there is no idea, what would happen? You are what you are. You are uncharitable, you are unforgiving, you are cruel, stupid, thoughtless. Can you remain with that? If you do, then see what happens. When I recognize I am uncharitable, stupid, what happens when I am aware it is so? Is there not charity, is there not intelligence? When I recognize uncharitableness completely, not verbally, not artificially, when I realize I am uncharitable and unloving, in that very seeing of what is is there not love? Don't I immediately become charitable? If I see the necessity of being clean, it is very simple; I go and wash, But if it is an ideal that I should be clean, then what happens? Cleanliness is then postponed or is superficial. Action based on idea is very superficial, is not true action at all, is only ideation, which is merely the thought process going on. Action which transforms us as human beings, which brings regeneration, redemption, transformation - call it what you will -such action is not based on idea. It is action irrespective of the sequence of reward or punishment. Such action is timeless, because mind, which is the time process, the calculating process, the dividing, isolating process, does not enter into it. This question is not so easily solved. Most of you put questions and expect an answer "yes" or "no". It is easy to ask questions like "What do you mean?" and then sit back and let me explain but it is much more arduous to find out the answer for yourselves, go into the problem so profoundly, so clearly and without any corruption that the problem ceases to be. That can only happen when the mind is really silent in the face of the problem. The problem, if you love it, is as beautiful as the sunset. If you are antagonistic to the problem, you will never understand. Most of us are antagonistic because we are frightened of the result, of what may happen if we proceed, so we lose the significance and the purview of the problem. THE FIRST AND LAST FREEDOM QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS QUESTION 26 'ON THE OLD AND THE NEW' Question: When I listen to you, all seems clear and new. At home, the old, dull restlessness asserts itself. What is wrong with me? Krishnamurti: What is actually taking place in our lives? There is constant challenge and response. That is existence, that is life, is it not? - a constant challenge and response. The challenge is always new and the response is always old. I met you yesterday and you come to me today. You are different, you are modified, you have changed, you are new; but I have the picture of you as you were yesterday. Therefore I absorb the new into the old. I do not meet you anew but I have yesterday's picture of you, so my response to the challenge is always conditioned. Here, for the moment, you cease to be a Brahmin, a Christian, high-caste or whatever it is -you forget everything. You are just listening, absorbed, trying to find out. When you resume your daily life, you become your old self - you are back in your job, your caste, your system, your family. In other words, the new is always being absorbed by the old, into the old habits, customs, ideas, traditions, memories. There is never the new, for you are always meeting the new with the old. The challenge is new but you meet it with the old. The problem in this question is how to free thought from the old so as to be new all the time. When you see a flower, when you see a face, when you see the sky, a tree, a smile, how are you to meet it anew? Why is it that we do not meet it anew? Why is it that the old absorbs the new and modifies it; why does the new cease when you go home? The old response arises from the thinker. Is not the thinker always the old? Because your thought is founded on the past, when you meet the new it is the thinker who is meeting it; the experience of yesterday is meeting it. The thinker is always the old. So we come back to the same problem in a different way: How to free the mind from itself as the thinker ? How to eradicate memory, not factual memory but psychological memory, which is the accumulation of experience? Without freedom from the residue of experience, there can be no reception of the new. To free thought, to be free of the thought process and so to meet the new is arduous, is it not?, because all our beliefs, all our traditions, all our methods in education are a process of imitation, copying, memorizing, building up the reservoir of memory. That memory is constantly responding to the new; the response of that memory we call thinking and that thinking meets the new. So how can there be the new? Only when there is no residue of memory can there be newness and there is residue when experience is not finished, concluded, ended; that is when the understanding of experience is incomplete. When experience is complete, there is no residue - that is the beauty of life. Love is not residue, love is not experience, it is a state of being. Love is eternally new. Therefore our problem is: Can one meet the new constantly, even at home? Surely one can. To do that, one must bring about a revolution in thought, in feeling; you can be free only when every incident is thought out from moment to moment, when every response is finally understood, not merely casually looked at and thrown aside. There is freedom from accumulating memory only when every thought, every feeling is completed, thought out to the end. In other words, when each thought and feeling is thought out, concluded, there is an ending and there is a space between that ending and the next thought. In that space of silence, there is renewal, the new creativeness takes place. This is not theoretical, this is not impractical. If you try to think out every thought and every feeling, you will discover that it is extraordinarily practical in your daily life, for then you are new and what is new is eternally enduring. To be new is creative and to be creative is to be happy; a happy man is not concerned whether he is rich or poor, he does not care to what level of society he belongs, to what caste or to what country. He has no leaders, no gods, no temples, no churches and therefore no quarrels, no enmity. Surely that is the most practical way of solving our difficulties in this present world of chaos? It is because we are not creative, in the sense in which I am using that word, that we are so antisocial at all the different levels of our consciousness. To be very practical and effective in our social relationships, in our relationship with everything, one must be happy; there cannot be happiness if there is no ending, there cannot be happiness if there is a constant process of becoming. In ending, there is renewal, rebirth, a newness, a freshness, a joy. The new is absorbed into the old and the old destroys the new, so long as there is background, so long as the mind, the thinker, is conditioned by his thought. To be free from the background, from the conditioning influences, from memory, there must be freedom from continuity. There is continuity so long as thought and feelings are not ended completely. You complete a thought when you pursue the thought to its end and thereby bring an end to every thought, to every feeling. Love is not habit, memory; love is always new. There can be a meeting of the new only when the mind is fresh; and the mind is not fresh so long as there is the residue of memory. Memory is factual, as well as psychological. I am not talking of factual memory but of psychological memory. So long as experience is not completely understood, there is residue, which is the old, which is of yesterday, the thing that is past; the past is always absorbing the new and therefore destroying the new. It is only when the mind is free from the old that it meets everything anew, and in that there is joy. THE FIRST AND LAST FREEDOM QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS QUESTION 27 'ON NAMING' Question: How can one be aware of an emotion without naming or labelling it? If I am aware of a feeling, I seem to know what that feeling is almost immediately after it arises. Or do you mean something different when you say, `Do not name'? Krishnamurti: Why do we name anything? Why do we give a label to a flower, to a person, to a feeling? Either to communicate one's feelings, to describe the flower and so on and so on; or to identify oneself with that feeling. Is not that so? I name something, a feeling, to communicate it. `I am angry.' Or I identify myself with that feeling in order to strengthen it or to dissolve it or to do something about 1t. We give a name to something, to a rose, to communicate it to others or, by giving it a name, we think we have understood it. We say, "That is a rose", rapidly look at it and go on. By giving it a name, we think we have understood it; we have classified it and think that thereby we have understood the whole content and beauty of that flower. By giving a name to something, we have merely put it into a category and we think we have understood it; we don't look at it more closely. If we do not give it a name, however, we are forced to look at it. That is we approach the flower or whatever it is with a newness, with a new quality of examination; we look at it as though we had never looked at it before. Naming is a very convenient way of disposing of things and of people - by saying that they are Germans, Japanese, Americans, Hindus, you can give them a label and destroy the label. If you do not give a label to people you are forced to look at them and then it is much more difficult to kill somebody. You can destroy the label with a bomb and feel righteous, but if you do not give a label and must therefore look at the individual thing - whether it is a man or a flower or an incident or an emotion - then you are forced to consider your relationship with it, and with the action following. So terming or giving a label is a very convenient way of disposing of anything, of denying, condemning or justifying it. That is one side of the question. What is the core from which you name, what is the centre which is always naming, choosing, labelling. We all feel there is a centre, a core, do we not?, from which we are acting, from which we are judging, from which we are naming. What is that centre, that core? Some would like to think it is a spiritual essence, God, or what you will. So let us find out what is that core, that centre, which is naming, terming, judging. Surely that core is memory, isn't it? A series of sensations, identified and enclosed - the past, given life through the present. That core, that centre, feeds on the present through naming, labelling, remembering. We will see presently, as we unfold it, that so long as this centre, this core, exists, there can be no understanding. It is only with the dissipation of this core that there is understanding, because, after all, that core is memory; memory of various experiences which have been given names, labels, identifications. With those named and labelled experiences, from that centre, there is acceptance and rejection, determination to be or not to be, according to the sensations, pleasures and pains of the memory of experience. So that centre is the word. If you do not name that centre, is there a centre? That is if you do not think in terms of words, if you do not use words, can you think? Thinking comes into being through verbalization; or verbalization begins to respond to thinking. The centre, the core is the memory of innumerable experiences of pleasure and pain, verbalized. Watch it in yourself, please, and you will see that words have become much more important, labels have become much more important, than the substance; and we live on words. For us, words like truth, God, have become very important - or the feeling which those words represent. When we say the word `American', `Christian', `Hindu' or the word `anger' - we are the word representing the feeling. But we don't know what that feeling is, because the word has become important. When you call yourself a Buddhist, a Christian, what does the word mean, what is the meaning behind that word, which you have never examined? Our centre, the core is the word, the label. If the label does not matter, if what matters is that which is behind the label, then you are able to inquire but if you are identified with the label and stuck with it, you cannot proceed. And we are identified with the label: the house, the form, the name, the furniture, the bank account, our opinions, our stimulants and so on and so on. We are all those things - those things being represented by a name. The things have become important, the names, the labels; and therefore the centre, the core, is the word. If there is no word, no label, there is no centre, is there? There is a dissolution, there is an emptiness - not the emptiness of fear, which is quite a different thing. There is a sense of being as nothing; because you have removed all the labels or rather because you have understood why you give labels to feelings and ideas you are completely new, are you not? There is no centre from which you are acting. The centre, which is the word, has been dissolved. The label has been taken away and where are you as the centre? You are there but there has been a transformation. That transformation is a little bit frightening; therefore, you do not proceed with what is still involved in it; you are already beginning to judge it, to decide whether you like it or don't like it. You don't proceed with the understanding of what is coming but you are already judging, which means that you have a centre from which you are acting. Therefore you stay fixed the moment you judge; the words `like' and `dislike' become important. But what happens when you do not name? You look at an emotion, at a sensation, more directly and therefore have quite a different relationship to it, just as you have to a flower when you do not name it. You are forced to look at it anew. When you do not name a group of people, you are compelled to look at each individual face and not treat them all as the mass. Therefore you are much more alert, much more observing, more understanding; you have a deeper sense of pity, love; but if you treat them all as the mass, it is over. If you do not label, you have to regard every feeling as it arises. When you label, is the feeling different from the label? Or does the label awaken the feeling? Please think it over. When we label, most of us intensify the feeling. The feeling and the naming are instantaneous. If there were a gap between naming and feeling, then you could find out if the feeling is different from the naming and then you would be able to deal with the feeling without naming it. The problem is this, is it not?, how to be free from a feeling which we name, such as anger? Not how to subjugate it, sublimate it, suppress it, which are all idiotic and immature, but how to be really free from it? To be really free from it, we have to discover whether the word is more important than the feeling. The word `anger' has more significance than the feeling itself. Really to find that out there must be a gap between the feeling and the naming. That is one part. If I do not name a feeling, that is to say if thought is not functioning merely because of words or if I do not think in terms of words, images or symbols, which most of us do - then what happens? Surely the mind then is not merely the observer. When the mind is not thinking in terms of words, symbols, images, there is no thinker separate from the thought, which is the word. Then the mind is quiet, is it not? - not made quiet, it is quiet. When the mind is really quiet, then the feelings which arise can be dealt with immediately. It is only when we give names to feelings and thereby strengthen them that the feelings have continuity; they are stored up in the centre, from which we give further labels, either to strengthen or to communicate them. When the mind is no longer the centre, as the thinker made up of words, of past experiences -which are all memories, labels, stored up and put in categories, in pigeonholes - when it is not doing any of those things, then, obviously the mind is quiet. It is no longer bound, it has no longer a centre as the me - my house, my achievement, my work - which are still words, giving impetus to feeling and thereby strengthening memory. When none of these things is happening, the mind is very quiet. That state is not negation. On the contrary, to come to that point, you have to go through all this, which is an enormous undertaking; it is not merely learning a few sets of words and repeating them like a school-boy - `not to name', `not to name'. To follow through all its implications, to experience it, to see how the mind works and thereby come to that point when you are no longer naming, which means that there is no longer a centre apart from thought - surely this whole process is real meditation. When the mind is really tranquil, then it is possible for that which is immeasurable to come into being. Any other process, any other search for reality, is merely self-projected, homemade and therefore unreal. But this process is arduous and it means that the mind has to be constantly aware of everything that is inwardly happening to it. To come to this point, there can be no judgement or justification from the beginning to the end - not that this is an end. There is no end, because there is something extraordinary still going on. This is no promise. It is for you to experiment, to go into yourself deeper and deeper and deeper, so that all the many layers of the centre are dissolved and you can do it rapidly or lazily. It is extraordinarily interesting to watch the process of the mind, how it depends on words, how the words stimulate memory or resuscitate the dead experience and give life to it. In that process the mind is living either in the future or in the past. Therefore words have an enormous significance, neurologically as well as psychologically. And please do not learn all this from me or from a book. You cannot learn it from another or find it in a book. What you learn or find in a book will not be the real. But you can experience it, you can watch yourself in action, watch yourself thinking, see how you think, how rapidly you are naming the feeling as it arises - and watching the whole process frees the mind from its centre. Then the mind, being quiet, can receive that which is eternal. THE FIRST AND LAST FREEDOM QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS QUESTION 28 'ON THE KNOWN AND THE UNKNOWN' Question: Our mind knows only the known. What is it in us that drives us to find the unknown reality, God? Krishnamurti: Does your mind urge toward the unknown ? Is there an urge in us for the unknown, for reality, for God? Please think it out seriously. This is not a rhetorical question but let us actually find out. Is there an inward urge in each one of us to find the unknown? Is there? How can you find the unknown? If you do not know it, how can you find it? Is there an urge for reality, or is it merely a desire for the known, expanded? Do you understand what I mean? I have known many things; they have not given me happiness, satisfaction, joy. So now I am wanting something else that will give me greater joy, greater happiness, greater vitality -what you will. Can the known, which is my mind - because my mind is known, the result of the past, - can that mind seek the unknown? If I do not know reality, the unknown, how can I search for it? Surely it must come, I cannot go after it. If I go after it, I am going after something which is the known, projected by me. Our problem is not what it is in us that drives us to find the unknown - that is clear enough. It is our own desire to be more secure, more permanent, more established, more happy, to escape from turmoil, from pain, confusion. That is our obvious drive. When there is that drive, that urge, you will find a marvellous escape, a marvellous refuge - in the Buddha, in the Christ or in political slogans and all the rest of it. That is not reality; that is not the unknowable, the unknown. Therefore the urge for the unknown must come to an end, the search for the unknown must stop; which means there must be understanding of the cumulative known, which is the mind. The mind must understand itself as the known, because that is all it knows. You cannot think about something that you do not know. You can only think about something that you know. Our difficulty is for the mind not to proceed in the known; that can only happen when the mind understands itself and how all its movement is from the past, projecting itself through the present, to the future. It is one continuous movement of the known; can that movement come to an end? It can come to an end only when the mechanism of its own process is understood, only when the mind understands itself and its workings, its ways, its purposes, its pursuits, its demands - not only the superficial demands but the deep inward urges and motives. This is quite an arduous task. It isn't just in a meeting or at a lecture or by reading a book, that you are going to find out. On the contrary, it needs constant watchfulness, constant awareness of every movement of thought -not only when you are waking but also when you are asleep. It must be a total process, not a sporadic, partial process. Also, the intention must be right. That is there must be a cessation of the superstition that inwardly we all want the unknown. It is an illusion to think that we are all seeking God - we are not. We don't have to search for light. There will be light when there is no darkness and through darkness we cannot find the light. All that we can do is to remove those barriers that create darkness and the removal depends on the intention. If you are removing them in order to see light, then you are not removing anything, you are only substituting the word light for darkness. Even to look beyond the darkness is an escape from darkness. We have to consider not what it is that is driving us but why there is in us such confusion, such turmoil, such strife and antagonism - all the stupid things of our existence. When these are not, then there is light, we don't have to look for it. When stupidity is gone, there is intelligence. But the man who is stupid and tries to become intelligent is still stupid. Stupidity can never be made wisdom; only when stupidity ceases is there wisdom, intelligence. The man who is stupid and tries to become intelligent, wise, obviously can never be so. To know what is stupidity, one must go into it, not superficially, but fully, completely, deeply, profoundly; one must go into all the different layers of stupidity and when there is the cessation of that stupidity, there is wisdom. Therefore it is important to find out not if there is something more, something greater than the known, which is urging us to the unknown, but to see what it is in us that is creating confusion, wars, class differences, snobbishness, the pursuit of the famous, the accumulation of knowledge, the escape through music, through art, through so many ways. It is important, surely, to see them as they are and to come back to ourselves as we are. From there we can proceed. Then the throwing off of the known is comparatively easy. When the mind is silent, when it is no longer projecting itself into the future, wishing for something; when the mind is really quiet, profoundly peaceful, the unknown comes into being. You don't have to search for it. You cannot invite it. That which you can invite is only that which you know. You cannot invite an unknown guest. You can only invite one you know. But you do not know the unknown, God, reality, or what you will. It must come. It can come only when the field is right, when the soil is tilled, but if you till in order for it to come, then you will not have it. Our problem is not how to seek the unknowable, but to understand the accumulative processes of the mind, which is ever the known. That is an arduous task: that demands constant attention, a constant awareness in which there is no sense of distraction, of identification, of condemnation; it is being with what is. Then only can the mind be still. No amount of meditation, discipline, can make the mind still, in the real sense of the word. Only when the breezes stop does the lake become quiet. You cannot make the lake quiet. Our job is not to pursue the unknowable but to understand the confusion, the turmoil, the misery, in ourselves; and then that thing darkly comes into being, in which there is joy. THE FIRST AND LAST FREEDOM QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS QUESTION 29 'TRUTH AND LIE' Question: How does truth, as you have said, when repeated become a lie? What really is a lie? Why is it wrong to lie? Is not this a profound and subtle problem on all the levels of our existence? Krishnamurti: There are two questions in this, so let us examine the first, which is: When a truth is repeated, how does it become a lie? What is it that we repeat? Can you repeat an understanding? I understand something. Can I repeat it? I can verbalize it, I can communicate it but the experience is not what is repeated, surely? We get caught in the word and miss the significance of the experience. If you have had an experience, can you repeat it? You may want to repeat it, you may have the desire for its repetition, for its sensation, but once you have had an experience, it is over, it cannot be repeated. What can be repeated is the sensation and the corresponding word that gives life to that sensation. As, unfortunately, most of us are propagandists, we are caught in the repetition of the word. So we live on words, and the truth is denied. Take, for example, the feeling of love. Can you repeat it ? When you hear the words `Love your neighbour', is that a truth to you? It is truth only when you do love your neighbour; and that love cannot be repeated but only the word. Yet most of us are happy, content, with the repetition, `Love your neighbour' or `Don't be greedy'. So the truth of another, or an actual experience which you have had, merely through repetition, does not become a reality. On the contrary, repetition prevents reality. Merely repeating certain ideas is not reality. The difficulty in this is to understand the question without thinking in terms of the opposite. A lie is not something opposed to truth. One can see the truth of what is being said, not in opposition or in contrast, as a lie or a truth; but just see that most of us repeat without understanding. For instance, we have been discussing naming and not naming a feeling and so on. Many of you will repeat it, I am sure, thinking that it is the `truth'. You will never repeat an experience if it is a direct experience. You may communicate it but when it is a real experience the sensations behind it are gone, the emotional content behind the words is entirely dissipated. Take, for example, the idea that the thinker and the thought are one. It may be a truth to you, because you have directly experienced it. If I repeated it, it would not be true, would it? - true, not as opposed to the false, please. It would not be actual, it would be merely repetitive and therefore would have no significance. You see, by repetition we create a dogma, we build a church and in that we take refuge. The word and not truth, becomes the `truth'. The word is not the thing. To us, the thing is the word and that is why one has to be so extremely careful not to repeat something which one does not really understand. If you understand something, you can communicate it, but the words and the memory have lost their emotional significance. Therefore if one understands that, in ordinary conversation, one's outlook, one's vocabulary, changes. As we are seeking truth through self-knowledge and are not mere propagandists, it is important to understand this. Through repetition one mesmerizes oneself by words or by sensations. One gets caught in illusions. To be free of that, it is imperative to experience directly and to experience directly one must be aware of oneself in the process of repetition, of habits, or words, of sensations. That awareness gives one an extraordinary freedom, so that there can be a renewal, a constant experiencing, a newness. The other question is: "What really is a lie? Why is it wrong to lie? Is this not a profound and subtle problem on all the levels of our existence?" What is a lie? A contradiction, isn't it?, a self-contradiction. One can consciously contradict or unconsciously; it can either be deliberate or unconscious; the contradiction can be either very, very subtle or obvious. When the cleavage in contradiction is very great, then either one becomes unbalanced or one realizes the cleavage and sets about to mend it. To understand this problem, what is a lie and why we lie, one has to go into it without thinking in terms of an opposite. Can we look at this problem of contradiction in ourselves without trying not to be contradictory? Our difficulty in examining this question is, is it not?, that we so readily condemn a lie but, to understand it, can we think of it not in terms of truth and falsehood but of what is contradiction? Why do we contradict? Why is there contradiction in ourselves? Is there not an attempt to live up to a standard, up to a pattern - a constant approximation of ourselves to a pattern, a constant effort to be something, either in the eyes of another or in our own eyes? There is a desire, is there not? to conform to a pattern; when one is not living up to that pattern, there is contradiction. Now why do we have a pattern, a standard, an approximation, an idea which we are trying to live up to? Why? Obviously to be secure, to be safe, to be popular, to have a good opinion of ourselves and so on. There is the seed of contradiction. As long as we are approximating ourselves to something, trying to be something, there must be contradiction; therefore there must be this cleavage between the false and the true. I think this is important, if you will quietly go into it. Not that there is not the false and the true; but why the contradiction in ourselves? Is it not because we are attempting to be something - to be noble, to be good, to be virtuous, to be creative, to be happy and so on? in the very desire to be something, there is a contradiction - not to be something else. It is this contradiction that is so destructive. If one is capable of complete identification with something, with this or with that, then contradiction ceases; when we do identify ourselves completely with something, there is self-enclosure, there is a resistance, which brings about unbalance - which is an obvious thing. Why is there contradiction in ourselves? I have done something and I do not want it to be discovered; I have thought something which does not come up to the mark, which puts me in a state of contradiction, and I do not like it. Where there is approximation, there must be fear and it is this fear that contradicts. Whereas if there is no becoming, no attempting to be something, then there is no sense of fear; there is no contradiction; there is no lie in us at any level, consciously or unconsciously - something to be suppressed, something to be shown up. As most of our lives are a matter of moods and poses, depending on our moods, we pose -which is contradiction. When the mood disappears, we are what we are. It is this contradiction that is really important, not whether you tell a polite white lie or not. So long as this contradiction exists, there must be a superficial existence and therefore superficial fears which have to be guarded - and then white lies - , you know, all the rest of it follows. Let us look at this question, not asking what is a lie and what is truth but, without these opposites, go into the problem of contradiction in ourselves - which is extremely difficult, because as we depend so much on sensations, most of our lives are contradictory. We depend on memories, on opinions; we have so many fears which we want to cover up - all these create contradiction in ourselves; when that contradiction becomes unbearable, one goes off one's head. One wants peace and everything that one does creates war, not only in the family but outside. Instead of understanding what creates conflict, we only try to become more and more one thing or the other, the opposite, thereby creating greater cleavage. Is it possible to understand why there is contradiction in ourselves - not only superficially but much more deeply, psychologically? First of all, is one aware that one lives a contradictory life? We want peace and we are nationalists; we want to avoid social misery and yet each one of us is individualistic, limited, self-enclosed. We are constantly living in contradiction. Why? Is it not because we are slaves to sensation? This is neither to be denied nor accepted. It requires a great deal of understanding of the implications of sensation, which are desires. We want so many things, all in contradiction with one another. We are so many conflicting masks; we take on a mask when it suits us and deny it when something else is more profitable, more pleasurable. It is this state of contradiction which creates the lie. In opposition to that, we create `truth'. But surely truth is not the opposite of a lie. That which has an opposite is not truth. The opposite contains its own opposite, therefore it is not truth and to understand this problem very profoundly, one must be aware of all the contradictions in which we live. When I say, `I love you', with it goes jealousy, envy, anxiety, fear - which is contradiction. It is this contradiction which must be understood and one can understand it only when one is aware of it, aware without any condemnation or justification - merely looking at it. To look at it passively, one has to understand all the processes of justification and condemnation. It is not an easy thing, to look passively at something; but in understanding that, one begins to understand the whole process of the ways of one's feeling and thinking. When one is aware of the full significance of contradiction in oneself, it brings an extraordinary change: you are yourself, then, not something you are trying to be. You are no longer following an ideal, seeking happiness. You are what you are and from there you can proceed. Then there is no possibility of contradiction. THE FIRST AND LAST FREEDOM QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS QUESTION 30 'ON GOD' Question: You have realized reality. Can you tell us what God is? Krishnamurti: How do you know I have realized? To know that I have realized, you also must have realized. This is not just a clever answer. To know something you must be of it. You must yourself have had the experience also and therefore your saying that I have realized has apparently no meaning. What does it matter if I have realized or have not realized? Is not what I am saying the truth? Even if I am the most perfect human being, if what I say is not the truth why would you even listen to me? Surely my realization has nothing whatever to do with what I am saying and the man who worships another because that other has realized is really worshipping authority and therefore he can never find the truth. To understand what has been realized and to know him who has realized is not at all important, is it? I know the whole tradition says, "Be with a man who has realized." How can you know that he has realized? All that you can do is to keep company with him and even that is extremely difficult nowadays. There are very few good people, in the real sense of the word - people who are not seeking something, who are not after something. Those who are seeking something or are after something are exploiters and therefore it is very difficult for anyone to find a companion to love. We idealize those who have realized and hope that they will give us something, which is a false relationship. How can the man who has realized communicate if there is no love? That is our difficulty. In all our discussions we do not really love each other; we are suspicious. You want something from me, knowledge, realization, or you want to keep company with me, all of which indicates that you do not love. You want something and therefore you are out to exploit. If we really love each other then there will be instantaneous communication. Then it does not matter if you have realized and I have not or if you are the high or the low. Since our hearts have withered, God has become awfully important. That is, you want to know God because you have lost the song in your heart and you pursue the singer and ask him whether he can teach you how to sing. He can teach you the technique but the technique will not lead you to creation. You cannot be a musician by merely knowing how to sing. You may know all the steps of a dance but if you have not creation in your heart, you are only functioning as a machine. You cannot love if your object is merely to achieve a result. There is no such thing as an ideal, because that is merely an achievement. Beauty is not an achievement, it is reality, now, not tomorrow. If there is love you will understand the unknown, you will know what God is and nobody need tell you - and that is the beauty of love. It is eternity in itself. Because there is no love, we want someone else, or God, to give it to us. If we really loved, do you know what a different world this would be? We should be really happy people. Therefore we should not invest our happiness in things, in family, in ideals. We should be happy and therefore things, people and ideals would not dominate our lives. They are all secondary things. Because we do not love and because we are not happy we invest in things, thinking they will give us happiness, and one of the things in which we invest is God. You want me to tell you what reality is. Can the indescribable be put into words? Can you measure something immeasurable? Can you catch the wind in your fist? If you do, is that the wind? If you measure that which is immeasurable, is that the real? If you formulate it, is it the real? Surely not, for the moment you describe something which is indescribable, it ceases to be the real. The moment you translate the unknowable into the known, it ceases to be the unknowable. Yet that is what we are hankering after. All the time we want to know, because then we shall be able to continue, then we shall be able, we think, to capture ultimate happiness, permanency. We want to know because we are not happy, because we are striving miserably, because we are worn out, degraded. Yet instead of realizing the simple fact - that we are degraded, that we are dull, weary, in turmoil - we want to move away from what is the known into the unknown, which again becomes the known and therefore we can never find the real. Therefore instead of asking who has realized or what God is why not give your whole attention and awareness to what is? Then you will find the unknown, or rather it will come to you. If you understand what is the known, you will experience that extraordinary silence which is not induced, not enforced, that creative emptiness in which alone reality can enter. It cannot come to that which is becoming, which is striving; it can only come to that which is being, which understands what is. Then you will see that reality is not in the distance; the unknown is not far off; it is in what is. As the answer to a problem is in the problem, so reality is in what is; if we can understand it, then we shall know truth. It is extremely difficult to be aware of dullness, to be aware of greed, to be aware of ill will, ambition and so on. The very fact of being aware of what is is truth. It is truth that liberates, not your striving to be free. Thus reality is not far but we place it far away because we try to use it as a means of self-continuity. It is here, now, in the immediate. The eternal or the timeless is now and the now cannot be understood by a man who is caught in the net of time. To free thought from time demands action, but the mind is lazy, it is slothful, and therefore ever creates other hindrances. It is only possible by right meditation, which means complete action, not a continuous action, and complete action can only be understood when the mind comprehends the process of continuity, which is memory - not the factual but the psychological memory. As long as memory functions, the mind cannot understand what is. But one's mind, one's whole being, becomes extraordinarily creative, passively alert, when one understands the significance of ending, because in ending there is renewal, while in continuity there is death, there is decay. THE FIRST AND LAST FREEDOM QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS QUESTION 31 'ON IMMEDIATE REALIZATION' Question: Can we realize on the spot the truth you are speaking of, without any previous preparation? Krishnamurti: What do you mean by truth? Do not let us use a word of which we do not know the meaning; we can use a simpler word, a more direct word. Can you understand, can you comprehend a problem directly? That is what is implied, is it not? Can you understand what is, immediately, now? In understanding what is, you will understand the significance of truth; but to say that one must understand truth has very little meaning. Can you understand a problem directly, fully, and be free of it? That is what is implied in this question, is it not? Can you understand a crisis, a challenge, immediately, see its whole significance and be free of it? What you understand leaves no mark; therefore understanding or truth is the liberator. Can you be liberated now from a problem, from a challenge? Life is, is it not?, a series of challenges and responses and if your response to a challenge is conditioned, limited, incomplete, then that challenge leaves its mark, its residue, which is further strengthened by another new challenge. So there is a constant residual memory, accumulations, scars, and with all these scars you try to meet the new and therefore you never meet the new. Therefore you never understand, there is never a liberation from any challenge. The problem, the question is, whether I can understand a challenge completely, directly; sense all its significance, all its perfume, its depth, its beauty and its ugliness and so be free of it. A challenge is always new, is it not? The problem is always new, is it not? A problem which you had yesterday, for example, has undergone such modification that when you meet it today, it is already new. But you meet it with the old, because you meet it without transforming, merely modifying your own thoughts. Let me put it in a different way. I met you yesterday. In the meantime you have changed. You have undergone a modification but I still have yesterday's picture of you. I meet you today with my picture of you and therefore I do not understand you - I understand only the picture of you which I acquired yesterday. If I want to understand you, who are modified, changed, I must remove, I must be free of the picture of yesterday. In other words to understand a challenge, which is always new, I must also meet it anew, there must be no residue of yesterday; so I must say adieu to yesterday. After all, what is life? It is something new all the time, is it not? It is something which is ever undergoing change, creating a new feeling. Today is never the same as yesterday and that is the beauty of life. Can you and I meet every problem anew? Can you, when you go home, meet your wife and your child anew, meet the challenge anew? You will not be able to do it if you are burdened with the memories of yesterday. Therefore, to understand the truth of a problem, of a relationship, you must come to it afresh - not with an `open mind', for that has no meaning. You must come to it without the scars of yesterday's memories - which means, as each challenge arises, be aware of all the responses of yesterday and by being aware of yesterday's residue, memories, you will find that they drop away without struggle and therefore your mind is fresh. Can one realize truth immediately, without preparation? I say yes - not out of some fancy of mine, not out of some illusion; but psychologically experiment with it and you will see. Take any challenge, any small incident - don't wait for some great crisis -and see how you respond to it. Be aware of it, of your responses, of your intentions, of your attitudes and you will understand them, you will understand your background. I assure you, you can do it immediately if you give your whole attention to it. If you are seeking the full meaning of your background, it yields its significance and then you discover in one stroke the truth, the understanding of the problem. Understanding comes into being from the now, the present, which is always timeless. Though it may be tomorrow, it is still now; merely to postpone, to prepare to receive that which is tomorrow, is to prevent yourself from understanding what is now. Surely you can understand directly what is now, can't you? To understand what is, you have to be undisturbed, undistracted, you have to give your mind and heart to it. It must be your sole interest at that moment, completely. Then what is gives you its full depth, its full meaning, and thereby you are free of that problem. If you want to know the truth, the psychological significance of property, for instance, if you really want to understand it directly, now, how do you approach it? Surely you must feel akin to the problem, you must not be afraid of it, you must not have any creed, any answer, between yourself and the problem. Only when you are directly in relationship with the problem will you find the answer. If you introduce an answer, if you judge, have a psychological disinclination, then you will postpone, you will prepare to understand tomorrow what can only be understood in the `now'. Therefore you will never understand. To perceive truth needs no preparation; preparation implies time and time is not the means of understanding truth. Time is continuity and truth is timeless, non-continuous. Understanding is non-continuous, it is from moment to moment, unresidual. I am afraid I am making it all sound very difficult, am I not? But it is easy, simple to understand, if you will only experiment with it. If you go off into a dream, meditate over it, it becomes very difficult. When there is no barrier between you and me, I understand you. If I am open to you, I understand you directly -and to be open is not a matter of time. Will time make me open? Will preparation, system, discipline, make me open to you? No. What will make me open to you is my intention to understand. I want to be open because I have nothing to hide, I am not afraid; therefore I am open and there is immediate communion, there is truth. To receive truth, to know its beauty, to know its joy, there must be instant receptivity, unclouded by theories, fears and answers. THE FIRST AND LAST FREEDOM QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS QUESTION 32 'ON SIMPLICITY' Question: What is simplicity? Does it imply seeing very clearly the essentials and discarding everything else? Krishnamurti: Let us see what simplicity is not. Don't say -"That is negation" or "Tell us something positive". That is immature, thoughtless reaction. Those people who offer you the `positive' are exploiters; they have something to give you which you want and through which they exploit you. We are doing nothing of that kind. We are trying to find out the truth of simplicity. Therefore you must discard, put ideas behind and observe anew. The man who has much is afraid of revolution, inwardly and outwardly. Let us find out what is not simplicity. A complicated mind is not simple, is it? A clever mind is not simple; a mind that has an end in view for which it is working, a reward, a fear, is not a simple mind, is it? A mind that is burdened with knowledge is not a simple mind; a mind that is crippled with beliefs is not a simple mind, is it? A mind that has identified itself with something greater and is striving to keep that identity, is not a simple mind, is it? We think it is simple to have only one or two loincloths, we want the outward show of simplicity and we are easily deceived by that. That is why the man who is very rich worships the man who has renounced. What is simplicity? Can simplicity be the discarding of non-essentials and the pursuing of essentials - which means a process of choice? Does it not mean choice - choosing essentials and discarding non-essentials? What is this process of choosing? What is the entity that chooses? Mind, is it not? It does not matter what you call it. You say, `I will choose this, which is the essential'. How do you know what is the essential? Either you have a pattern of what other people have said or your own experience says that something is the essential. Can you rely on your experience? When you choose, your choice is based on desire, is it not? What you call `the essential' is that which gives you satisfaction. So you are back again in the same process, are you not? Can a confused mind choose? If it does, the choice must also be confused. Therefore the choice between the essential and the non-essential is not simplicity. It is a conflict. A mind in conflict, in confusion, can never be simple. When you discard, when you really observe and see all these false things, the tricks of the mind, when you look at it and are aware of it, then you will know for yourself what simplicity is. A mind which is bound by belief is never a simple mind. A mind that is crippled with knowledge is not simple. A mind that is distracted by God, by women, by music, is not a simple mind. A mind caught in the routine of the office, of rituals, of prayers, such a mind is not simple. Simplicity is action, without idea. But that is a very rare thing; that means creativeness. So long as there is not creation, we are centres of mischief, misery and destruction. Simplicity is not a thing which you can pursue and experience. Simplicity comes, as a flower opens at the right moment, when each one understands the whole process of existence and relationship. Because we have never thought about it, observed it, we are not aware of it; we value all the outer forms of few possessions but those are not simplicity. Simplicity is not to be found; it does not lie as a choice between the essential and the non-essential. It comes into being only when the self is not; when the mind is not caught in speculations, conclusions, beliefs, ideations. Such a free mind only can find truth. Such a mind alone can receive that which is immeasurable, which is unnameable; and that is simplicity. THE FIRST AND LAST FREEDOM QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS QUESTION 33 'ON SUPERFICIALITY' Question: How is one who is superficial to become serious? Krishnamurti: First of all, we must be aware that we are superficial, must we not? What does it mean to be superficial? Essentially, to be dependent, does it not? To depend on stimulation, to depend on challenge, to depend on another, to depend psychologically on certain values, certain experiences, certain memories - does not all that make for superficiality? When I depend on going to church every morning or every week in order to be uplifted, in order to be helped, does that not make me superficial? If I have to perform certain rituals to maintain my sense of integrity or to regain a feeling which I may once have had, does that not make me superficial? Does it not make me superficial when I give myself over to a country, to a plan or to a particular political group? Surely this whole process of dependence is an evasion of myself; this identification with the greater is the denial of what I am. But I cannot deny what I am; I must understand what I am and not try to identify myself with the universe, with God, with a particular political party or what you will. All this leads to shallow thinking and from shallow thinking there is activity which is everlastingly mischievous, whether on a worldwide scale, or on the individual scale. First of all, do we recognize that we are doing these things? We do not; we justify them. We say, "What shall I do if I don't do these things? I'll be worse off; my mind will go to pieces. Now, at least, I am struggling towards something better." The more we struggle the more superficial we are. I have to see that first, have I not? That is one of the most difficult things; to see what I am, to acknowledge that I am stupid, that I am shallow, that I am narrow, that I am jealous. If I see what I am, if I recognize it, then with that I can start. Surely, a shallow mind is a mind that escapes from what is; not to escape requires arduous investigation, the denial of inertia. The moment I know I am shallow, there is already a process of deepening - if I don't do anything about the shallowness. If the mind says, "I am petty, and I am going to go into it, I am going to understand the whole of this pettiness, this narrowing influence", then there is a possibility of transformation; but a petty mind, acknowledging that it is petty and trying to be non-petty by reading, by meeting people, by travelling, by being incessantly active like a monkey, is still a petty mind. Again, you see, there is a real revolution only if we approach this problem rightly. The right approach to the problem gives an extraordinary confidence which I assure you moves mountains -the mountains of one's own prejudices, conditionings. Being aware of a shallow mind, do not try to become deep. A shallow mind can never know great depths. It can have plenty of knowledge, information, it can repeat words - you know the whole paraphernalia of a superficial mind that is active. But if you know that you are superficial, shallow, if you are aware of the shallowness and observe all its activities without judging, without condemnation, then you will soon see that the shallow thing has disappeared entirely, without your action upon it. That requires patience, watchfulness, not an eager desire for a result, for achievement. It is only a shallow mind that wants an achievement, a result. The more you are aware of this whole process, the more you will discover the activities of the mind but you must observe them without trying to put an end to them, because the moment you seek an end, you are again caught in the duality of the `me' and the `not-me' - which continues the problem. THE FIRST AND LAST FREEDOM QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS QUESTION 34 'ON TRIVIALITY' Question: With what should the mind be occupied? Krishnamurti: Here is a very good example of how conflict is brought into being: the conflict between what should be and what is. First we establish what should be, the ideal, and then try to live according to that pattern. We say that the mind should be occupied with noble things, with unselfishness, with generosity, with kindliness, with love; that is the pattern, the belief, the should be, the must, and we try to live accordingly. So there is a conflict set going, between the projection of what should be and the actuality, the what is, and through that conflict we hope to be transformed. So long as we are struggling with the should be, we feel virtuous, we feel good, but which is important: the should be or what is? With what are our minds occupied - actually, not ideologicallY? W1th trivialities, are they not? With how one looks, with ambition, with greed, with envy, with gossip, with cruelty. The mind lives in a world of trivialities and a trivial mind creating a noble pattern is still trivial, is it not? The question is not with what should the mind be occupied but can the mind free itself from trivialities? If we are at all aware, if we are at all inquiring, we know our own particular trivialities: incessant talk, the everlasting chattering of the mind, worry over this and that, curiosity as to what people are doing or not doing, trying to achieve a result, groping after one's own aggrandizement and so on. With that we are occupied and we know it very well. Can that be transformed? That is the problem, is it not? To ask with what the mind should be occupied is mere immaturity. Now, being aware that my mind is trivial and occupied with trivialities, can it free itself from this condition? Is not the mind, by its very nature, trivial? What is the mind but the result of memory? Memory of what? Of how to survive, not only physically but also psychologically through the development of certain qualities, virtues, the storing up of experiences, the establishing of itself in its own activities. Is that not trivial? The mind, being the result of memory, of time, is trivial in itself; what can it do to free itself from its own triviality? Can it do anything? Please see the importance of this. Can the mind, which is self-centred activity, free itself from that activity? Obviously, it cannot; whatever it does, it is still trivial. It can speculate about God, it can devise political systems, it can invent beliefs; but it is still within the field of time, its change is still from memory to memory, it is still bound by its own limitation. Can the mind break down that limitation? Or does that limitation break down when the mind is quiet, when it is not active, when it recognizes its own trivialities, however great it may have imagined them to be? When the mind, having seen its trivialities, is fully aware of them and so becomes really quiet -only then is there a possibility of these trivialities dropping away. So long as you are inquiring with what the mind should be occupied, it will be occupied with trivialities, whether it builds a church, whether it prays or whether it goes to a shrine. The mind itself is petty, small, and by merely saying it is petty you haven't dissolved its pettiness. You have to understand it, the mind has to recognize its own activities, and in the process of that recognition, in the awareness of the trivialities which it has consciously and unconsciously built, the mind becomes quiet. In that quietness there is a creative state and this is the factor which brings about a transformation. THE FIRST AND LAST FREEDOM QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS QUESTION 35 'ON THE STILLNESS OF THE MIND' Question: Why do you speak of the stillness of the mind, and what is this stillness? Krishnamurti: Is it not necessary, if we would understand anything, that the mind should be still? If we have a problem, we worry over it, don't we? We go into it, we analyse it, we tear it to pieces, in the hope of understanding it. Now, do we understand through effort, through analysis, through comparison, through any form of mental struggle? Surely, understanding comes only when the mind is very quiet. We say that the more we struggle with the question of starvation, of war, or any other human problem, the more we come into conflict with it, the better we shall understand it. Now, is that true? Wars have been going on for centuries, the conflict between individuals, between societies; war, inward and outward, is constantly there. Do we resolve that war, that conflict, by further conflict, by further struggle, by cunning endeavour? Or do we understand the problem only when we are directly in front of it, when we are faced with the fact? We can face the fact only when there is no interfering agitation between the mind and the fact, so is it not important, if we are to understand, that the mind be quiet? You will inevitably ask, "How can the mind be made still?" That is the immediate response, is it not? You say, "My mind is agitated and how can I keep it quiet?" Can any system make the mind quiet? Can a formula, a discipline, make the mind still? It can; but when the mind is made still, is that quietness, is that stillness? Or is the mind only enclosed within an idea, within a formula, within a phrase? Such a mind is a dead mind, is it not? That is why most people who try to be spiritual, so-called spiritual, are dead - because they have trained their minds to be quiet, they have enclosed themselves within a formula for being quiet. Obviously, such a mind is never quiet; it is only suppressed, held down. The mind is quiet when it sees the truth that understanding comes only when it is quiet; that if I would understand you, I must be quiet, I cannot have reactions against you, I must not be prejudiced, I must put away all my conclusions, my experiences and meet you face to face. Only then, when the mind is free from my conditioning, do I understand. When I see the truth of that, then the mind is quiet - and then there is no question of how to make the mind quiet. Only the truth can liberate the mind from its own ideation; to see the truth, the mind must realize the fact that so long as it is agitated it can have no understanding. Quietness of mind, tranquillity of mind, is not a thing to be produced by will-power, by any action of desire; if it is, then such a mind is enclosed, isolated, it is a dead mind and therefore incapable of adaptability, of pliability, of swiftness. Such a mind is not creative. Our question, then, is not how to make the mind still but to see the truth of every problem as it presents itself to us. It is like the pool that becomes quiet when the wind stops. Our mind is agitated because we have problems; and to avoid the problems, we make the mind still. Now the mind has projected these problems and there are no problems apart from the mind; and so long as the mind projects any conception of sensitivity, practises any form of stillness, it can never be still. When the mind realizes that only by being still is there understanding - then it becomes very quiet. That quietness is not imposed, not disciplined, it is a quietness that cannot be understood by an agitated mind. Many who seek quietness of mind withdraw from active life to a village, to a monastery, to the mountains, or they withdraw into ideas, enclose themselves in a belief or avoid people who give them trouble. Such isolation is not stillness of mind. The enclosure of the mind in an idea or the avoidance of people who make life complicated does not bring about stillness of mind. Stillness of mind comes only when here is no process of isolation through accumulation but complete understanding of the whole process of relationship. Accumulation makes the mind old; only when the mind is new, when the mind is fresh, without the process of accumulation - only then is there a possibility of having tranquillity of mind. Such a mind is not dead, it is most active. The still mind is the most active mind but if you will experiment with it, go into it deeply, you will see that in stillness there is no projection of thought. Thought, at all levels, is obviously the reaction of memory and thought can never be in a state of creation. It may express creativeness but thought in itself can never be creative. When there is silence, that tranquillity of mind which is not a result, then we shall see that in that quietness there is extraordinary activity, an extraordinary action which a mind agitated by thought can never know. In that stillness, there is no formulation, there is no idea, there is no memory; that stillness is a state of creation that can be experienced only when there is complete understanding of the whole process of the `me'. Otherwise, stillness has no meaning. Only in that stillness, which is not a result, is the eternal discovered, which is beyond time. THE FIRST AND LAST FREEDOM QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS QUESTION 36 'ON THE MEANING OF LIFE' Question: We live but we do not know why. To so many of us, life seems to have no meaning. Can you tell us the meaning and purpose of our living? Krishnamurti: Now why do you ask this question? Why are you asking me to tell you the meaning of life, the purpose of life? What do we mean by life? Does life have a meaning, a purpose? Is not living in itself its own purpose, its own meaning? Why do we want more? Because we are so dissatisfied with our life, our life is so empty, so tawdry, so monotonous, doing the same thing over and over again, we want something more, something beyond that which we are doing. Since our everyday life is so empty, so dull, so meaningless, so boring, so intolerably stupid, we say life must have a fuller meaning and that is why you ask this question. Surely a man who is living richly, a man who sees things as they are and is content with what he has, is not confused; he is clear, therefore he does not ask what is the purpose of life. For him the very living is the beginning and the end. Our difficulty is that, since our life is empty, we want to find a purpose to life and strive for it. Such a purpose of life can only be mere intellection, without any reality; when the purpose of life is pursued by a stupid, dull mind, by an empty heart, that purpose will also be empty. Therefore our purpose is how to make our life rich, not with money and all the rest of it but inwardly rich - which is not something cryptic. When you say that the purpose of life is to be happy, the purpose of life is to find God, surely that desire to find God is an escape from life and your God is merely a thing that is known. You can only make your way towards an object which you know; if you build a staircase to the thing that you call God, surely that is not God. Reality can be understood only in living, not in escape. When you seek a purpose of life, you are really escaping and not understanding what life is. Life is relationship, life is action in relationship; when I do not understand relationship, or when relationship is confused, then I seek a fuller meaning. Why are our lives so empty? Why are we so lonely, frustrated? Because we have never looked into ourselves and understood ourselves. We never admit to ourselves that this life is all we know and that it should therefore be understood fully and completely. We prefer to run away from ourselves and that is why we seek the purpose of life away from relationship. If we begin to understand action, which is our relationship with people, with property, with beliefs and ideas, then we will find that relationship itself brings its own reward. You do not have to seek. It is like seeking love. Can you find love by seeking it? Love cannot be cultivated. You will find love only in relationship, not outside relationship, and it is because we have no love that we want a purpose of life. When there is love, which is its own eternity, then there is no search for God, because love is God. It is because our minds are full of technicalities and superstitious mutterings that our lives are so empty and that is why we seek a purpose beyond ourselves. To find life's purpose we must go through the door of ourselves; consciously or unconsciously we avoid facing things as they are in themselves and so we want God to open for us a door which is beyond. This question about the purpose of life is put only by those who do not love. Love can be found only in action, which is relationship. THE FIRST AND LAST FREEDOM QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS QUESTION 37 'ON THE CONFUSION OF THE MIND' Question: I have listened to all your talks and I have read all your books. Most earnestly I ask you, what can be the purpose of my life if, as you say, all thought has to cease, all knowledge to be suppressed, all memory lost? How do you relate that state of being, whatever it may be according to you, to the world in which we live? What relation has such a being to our sad and painful existence? Krishnamurti: We want to know what this state is which can only be when all knowledge, when the recognizer, is not; we want to know what relationship this state has to our world of daily activity, daily pursuits. We know what our life is now - sad, painful, constantly fearful, nothing permanent; we know that very well. We want to know what relationship this other state has to that - and if we put aside knowledge, become free from our memories and so on, what is the purpose of existence. What is the purpose of existence as we know it now? - not theoretically but actually? What is the purpose of our everyday existence? just to survive, isn't it? - with all its misery, with all its sorrow and confusion, wars, destruction and so on. We can invent theories, we can say: "This should not be, but something else should be." But those are all theories, they are not facts. What we know is confusion, pain, suffering, endless antagonisms. We know also, if we are at all aware, how these come about. The purpose of life, from moment to moment, every day, is to destroy each other, to exploit each other, either as individuals or as collective human beings. In our loneliness, in our misery, we try to use others, we try to escape from ourselves - through amusements, through gods, through knowledge, through every form of belief, through identification. That is our purpose, conscious or unconscious, as we now live. Is there a deeper, wider purpose beyond, a purpose that is not of confusion, of acquisition? Has that effortless state any relation to our daily life ? Certainly that has no relation at all to our life. How can it have? If my mind is confused, agonized, lonely, how can that be related to something which is not of itself? How can truth be related to falsehood, to illusion? We do not want to admit that, because our hope, our confusion, makes us believe in something greater, nobler, which we say is related to us. In our despair we seek truth, hoping that in the discovery of it our despair will disappear. So we can see that a confused mind, a mind ridden with sorrow, a mind that is aware of its own emptiness, loneliness, can never find that which is beyond itself. That which is beyond the mind can only come into being when the causes of confusion, misery, are dispelled or understood. All that I have been saying, talking about, is how to understand ourselves, for without self-knowledge the other is not, the other is only an illusion. If we can understand the total process of ourselves, from moment to moment, then we shall see that in clearing up our own confusion, the other comes into being. Then experiencing that will have a relation to this. But this will never have a relation to that. Being this side of the curtain, being in darkness, how can one have experience of light, of freedom? But when once there is the experience of truth, then you can relate it to this world in which we live. If we have never known what love is, but only constant wrangles, misery, conflicts, how can we experience that love which is not of all this? But when once we have experienced that, then we do not have to bother to find out the relationship. Then love, intelligence, functions. But to experience that state, all knowledge, accumulated memories, self-identified activities, must cease, so that the mind is incapable of any projected sensations. Then, experiencing that, there is action in this world. Surely that is the purpose of existence - to go beyond the self-centred activity of the mind. Having experienced that state, which is not measurable by the mind, then the very experiencing of that brings about an inward revolution. Then, if there is love, there is no social problem. There is no problem of any kind when there is love. `Because we do not know how to love we have social problems and systems of philosophy on how to deal with our problems. I say these problems can never be solved by any system, either of the left or of the right or of the middle. They can be solved - our confusion, our misery, our self-destruction - only when we can experience that state which is not self-projected. THE FIRST AND LAST FREEDOM QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS QUESTION 38 'ON TRANSFORMATION' Question: What do you mean by transformation? Krishnamurti: Obviously, there must be a radical revolution. The world crisis demands it. Our lives demand it. Our everyday incidents, pursuits, anxieties, demand it. Our problems demand it. There must be a fundamental, radical revolution, because everything about us has collapsed. Though seemingly there is order, in fact there is slow decay, destruction: the wave of destruction is constantly overtaking the wave of life. So there must be a revolution - but not a revolution based on an idea. Such a revolution is merely the continuation of the idea, not a radical transformation. A revolution based on an idea brings bloodshed, disruption, chaos. Out of chaos you cannot create order; you cannot deliberately bring about chaos and hope to create order out of that chaos. You are not the God-chosen who are to create order out of confusion That is such a false way of thinking on the part of those people who wish to create more and more confusion in order to bring about order. Because for the moment they have power, they assume they know all the ways of producing order. Seeing the whole of this catastrophe - the constant repetition of wars, the ceaseless conflict between classes, between peoples, the awful economic and social inequality, the inequality of capacity and gifts, the gulf between those who are extraordinarily happy, unruffled, and those who are caught in hate, conflict, and misery -seeing all this, there must be a revolution, there must be complete transformation, must there not? Is this transformation, is this radical revolution, an ultimate thing or is it from moment to moment? I know we should like it to be the ultimate thing, because it is so much easier to think in terms of far away. Ultimately we shall be transformed, ultimately we shall be happy, ultimately we shall find truth; in the meantime, let us carry on. Surely such a mind, thinking in terms of the future, is incapable of acting in the present; therefore such a mind is not seeking transformation, it is merely avoiding transformation. What do we mean by transformation? Transformation is not in the future, can never be in the future. It can only be now, from moment to moment. So what do we mean by transformation? Surely it is very simple: seeing the false as the false and the true as the true. Seeing the truth in the false and seeing the false in that which has been accepted as the truth. Seeing the false as the false and the true as the true is transformation, because when you see something very clearly as the truth, that truth liberates. When you see that something is false, that false thing drops away. When you see that ceremonies are mere vain repetitions, when you see the truth of it and do not justify it, there is transformation, is there not?, because another bondage is gone. When you see that class distinction is false, that it creates conflict, creates misery, division between people - when you see the truth of it, that very truth liberates. The very perception of that truth is transformation, is it not? As we are surrounded by so much that is false, perceiving the falseness from moment to moment is transformation. Truth is not cumulative. It is from moment to moment. That which is cumulative, accumulated, is memory, and through memory you can never find truth, for memory is of time -time being the past, the present and the future. Time, which is continuity, can never find that which is eternal; eternity is not continuity. That which endures is not eternal. Eternity is in the moment. Eternity is in the now. The now is not the reflection of the past nor the continuance of the past through the present to the future. A mind which is desirous of a future transformation or looks to transformation as an ultimate end, can never find truth, for truth is a thing that must come from moment to moment, must be discovered anew; there can be no discovery through accumulation. How can you discover the new if you have the burden of the old? It is only with the cessation of that burden that you discover the new. To discover the new, the eternal, in the present, from moment to moment, one needs an extraordinarily alert mind, a mind that is not seeking a result, a mind that is not becoming. A mind that is becoming can never know the full bliss of contentment; not the contentment of smug satisfaction; not the contentment of an achieved result, but the contentment that comes when the mind sees the truth in what is and the false in what is. The perception of that truth is from moment to moment; and that perception is delayed through verbalization of the moment. Transformation is not an end, a result. Transformation is not a result. Result implies residue, a cause and an effect. Where there is causation, there is bound to be effect. The effect is merely the result of your desire to be transformed. When you desire to be transformed, you are still thinking in terms of becoming; that which is becoming can never know that which is being. Truth is being from moment to moment and happiness that continues is not happiness. Happiness is that state of being which is timeless. That timeless state can come only when there is a tremendous discontent not the discontent that has found a channel through which it escapes but the discontent that has no outlet, that has no escape, that is no longer seeking fulfilment. Only then, in that state of supreme discontent, can reality come into being. That reality is not to be bought, to be sold, to be repeated; it cannot be caught in books. It has to be found from moment to moment, in the smile, in the tear, under the dead leaf, in the vagrant thoughts, in the fullness of love. Love is not different from truth. Love is that state in which the thought process, as time, has completely ceased. Where love is, there is transformation. Without love, revolution has no meaning, for then revolution is merely destruction, decay, a greater and greater evermounting misery. Where there is love, there is revolution, because love is transformation from moment to moment. Education And The Significance Of Life The Right Kind Of Education Intellect, Authority And Intelligence Education And World Peace The School Parents And Teachers Sex And Marriage Art, Beauty And Creation EDUCATION AND THE SIGNIFICANCE OF LIFE CHAPTER 1 'EDUCATION AND THE SIGNIFICANCE OF LIFE ' When one travels around the world, one notices to what an extraordinary degree human nature is the same, whether in India or America, in Europe or Australia. This is especially true in colleges and universities. We are turning out, as if through a mould, a type of human being whose chief interest is to find security, to become somebody important, or to have a good time with as little thought as possible. Conventional education makes independent thinking extremely difficult. Conformity leads to mediocrity. To be different from the group or to resist environment is not easy and is often risky as long as we worship success. The urge to be successful, which is the pursuit of reward whether in the material or in the so-called spiritual sphere, the search for inward or outward security, the desire for comfort - this whole process smothers discontent, puts an end to spontaneity and breeds fear; and fear blocks the intelligent un- derstanding of life. With increasing age, dullness of mind and heart sets in. In seeking comfort, we generally find a quiet corner in life where there is a minimum of conflict, and then we are afraid to step out of that seclusion. This fear of life, this fear of struggle and of new experience, kills in us the spirit of adventure; our whole upbringing and education have made us afraid to be different from our neighbour, afraid to think contrary to the established pattern of society, falsely respectful of authority and tradition. Fortunately, there are a few who are in earnest, who are willing to examine our human problems without the prejudice of the right or of the left; but in the vast majority of us, there is no real spirit of discontent, of revolt. When we yield uncomprehendingly to environment, any spirit of revolt that we may have had dies down, and our responsibilities soon put an end to it. Revolt is of two kinds: there is violent revolt, which is mere reaction, without understanding, against the existing order; and there is the deep psychological revolt of intelligence. There are many who revolt against the established orthodoxies only to fall into new orthodoxies, further illusions and concealed self-indulgences. What generally happens is that we break away from one group or set of ideals and join another group, take up other ideals, thus creating a new pattern of thought against which we will again have to revolt. Reaction only breeds opposition, and reform needs further reform. But there is an intelligent revolt which is not reaction, and which comes with self-knowledge through the awareness of one's own thought and feeling. It is only when we face experience as it comes and do not avoid disturbance that we keep intelligence highly awakened; and intelligence highly awakened is intuition, which is the only true guide in life. Now, what is the significance of life? What are we living and struggling for? If we are being educated merely to achieve distinction, to get a better job, to be more efficient, to have wider domination over others, then our lives will be shallow and empty. If we are being educated only to be scientists, to be scholars wedded to books, or specialists addicted to knowledge, then we shall be contributing to the destruction and misery of the world. Though there is a higher and wider significance to life, of what value is our education if we never discover it? We may be highly educated, but if we are without deep integration of thought and feeling, our lives are incomplete, contradictory and torn with many fears; and as long as education does not cultivate an integrated outlook on life, it has very little significance. In our present civilization we have divided life into so many departments that education has very little meaning, except in learning a particular technique or profession. Instead of awakening the integrated intelligence of the individual, education is encouraging him to conform to a pattern and so is hindering his comprehension of himself as a total process. To attempt to solve the many problems of existence at their respective levels, separated as they are into various categories, indicates an utter lack of comprehension. The individual is made up of different entities, but to emphasize the differences and to encourage the development of a definite type leads to many complexities and contradictions. Education should bring about the integration of these separate entities - for without integration, life becomes a series of conflicts and sorrows. Of what value is it to be trained as lawyers if we perpetuate litigation? Of what value is knowledge if we continue in our confusion? What significance has technical and industrial capacity if we use it to destroy one another? What is the point of our existence if it leads to violence and utter misery? Though we may have money or are capable of earning it, though we have our pleasures and our organized religions, we are in endless conflict. We must distinguish between the personal and the individual. The personal is the accidental; and by the accidental I mean the circumstances of birth, the environment in which we happen to have been brought up, with its nationalism, superstitions, class distinctions and prejudices. The personal or accidental is but momentary, though that moment may last a lifetime; and as the present system of education is based on the personal, the accidental, the momentary, it leads to perversion of thought and the inculcation of self-defensive fears. All of us have been trained by education and environment to seek personal gain and security, and to fight for ourselves. Though we cover it over with pleasant phrases, we have been educated for various professions within a system which is based on exploitation and acquisitive fear. Such a training must inevitably bring confusion and misery to ourselves and to the world, for it creates in each individual those psychological barriers which separate and hold him apart from others. Education is not merely a matter of training the mind. Training makes for efficiency, but it does not bring about completeness. A mind that has merely been trained is the continuation of the past, and such a mind can never discover the new. That is why, to find out what is right education, we will have to inquire into the whole significance of living. To most of us, the meaning of life as a whole is not of primary importance, and our education emphasizes secondary values, merely making us proficient in some branch of knowledge. Though knowledge and efficiency are necessary, to lay chief emphasis on them only leads to conflict and confusion. There is an efficiency inspired by love which goes far beyond and is much greater than the efficiency of ambition; and without love, which brings an integrated understanding of life, efficiency breeds ruthlessness. Is this not what is actually taking place all over the world? Our present education is geared to industrialization and war, its principal aim being to develop efficiency; and we are caught in this machine of ruthless competition and mutual destruction. If education leads to war, if it teaches us to destroy or be destroyed, has it not utterly failed? To bring about right education, we must obviously un- derstand the meaning of life as a whole, and for that we have to be able to think, not consistently, but directly and truly. A consistent thinker is a thoughtless person, because he conforms to a pattern; he repeats phrases and thinks in a groove. We cannot understand existence abstractly or theoretically. To understand life is to understand ourselves, and that is both the beginning and the end of education. Education is not merely acquiring knowledge, gathering and correlating facts; it is to see the significance of life as a whole. But the whole cannot be approached through the part - which is what governments, organized religions and authoritarian parties are attempting to do. The function of education is to create human beings who are integrated and therefore intelligent. We may take degrees and be mechanically efficient without being intelligent. Intelligence is not mere information; it is not derived from books, nor does it consist of clever self-defensive responses and aggressive assertions. One who has not studied may be more intelligent than the learned. We have made examinations and degrees the criterion of intelligence and have developed cunning minds that avoid vital human issues. Intelligence is the capacity to perceive the essential, the what is; and to awaken this capacity, in oneself and in others, is education. Education should help us to discover lasting values so that we do not merely cling to formulas or repeat slogans; it should help us to break down our national and social barriers, instead of emphasizing them, for they breed antagonism between man and man. Unfortunately, the present system of education is making us subservient, mechanical and deeply thoughtless; though it awakens us intellectually, inwardly it leaves us incomplete, stultified and uncreative. Without an integrated understanding of life, our individual and collective problems will only deepen and extend. The purpose of education is not to produce mere scholars, technicians and job hunters, but integrated men and women who are free of fear; for only between such human beings can there be enduring peace. It is in the understanding of ourselves that fear comes to an end. If the individual is to grapple with life from moment to moment, if he is to face its intricacies, its miseries and sudden demands, he must be infinitely pliable and therefore free of theories and particular patterns of thought. Education should not encourage the individual to conform to society or to be negatively harmonious with it, but help him to discover the true values which come with unbiased investigation and self-awareness. When there is no self-knowledge, self-expression becomes self-assertion, with all its aggressive and ambitious conflicts. Education should awaken the capacity to be self-aware and not merely indulge in gratifying self-expression. What is the good of learning if in the process of living we are destroying ourselves? As we are having a series of devastating wars, one right after another, there is obviously something radically wrong with the way we bring up our children. I think most of us are aware of this, but we do not know how to deal with it. Systems, whether educational or political, are not changed mysteriously; they are transformed when there is a fundamental change in ourselves. The individual is of first importance, not the system; and as long as the individual does not understand the total process of himself, no system, whether of the left or of the right, can bring order and peace to the world. EDUCATION AND THE SIGNIFICANCE OF LIFE CHAPTER 2 'THE RIGHT KIND OF EDUCATION' THE ignorant man is not the unlearned, but he who does not know himself, and the learned man is stupid when he relies on books, on knowledge and on authority to give him understanding. Understanding comes only through self-knowledge, which is awareness of one's total psychological process. Thus education, in the true sense, is the understanding of oneself, for it is within each one of us that the whole of existence is gathered. What we now call education is a matter of accumulating information and knowledge from books, which anyone can do who can read. Such education offers a subtle form of escape from ourselves and, like all escapes, it inevitably creates increasing misery. Conflict and confusion result from our own wrong relationship with people, things and ideas, and until we understand that relationship and alter it, mere learning, the gathering of facts and the acquiring of various skills, can only lead us to engulfing chaos and destruction. As society is now organized, we send our children to school to learn some technique by which they can eventually earn a livelihood. We want to make the child first and foremost a specialist, hoping thus to give him a secure economic position. But does the cultivation of a technique enable us to understand ourselves? While it is obviously necessary to know how to read and write, and to learn engineering or some other profession, will technique give us the capacity to understand life? Surely, technique is secondary; and if technique is the only thing we are striving for, we are obviously denying what is by far the greater part of life. Life is pain, joy, beauty, ugliness, love, and when we understand it as a whole, at every level, that understanding creates its own technique. But the contrary is not true: technique can never bring about creative understanding. Present-day education is a complete failure because it has overemphasized technique. In overemphasizing technique we destroy man. To cultivate capacity and efficiency without understanding life, without having a comprehensive perception of the ways of thought and desire, will only make us increasingly ruthless, which is to engender wars and jeopardize our physical security. The exclusive cultivation of technique has produced scientists, mathematicians, bridge builders, space conquerors; but do they understand the total process of life? Can any specialist experience life as a whole? Only when he ceases to be a specialist. Technological progress does solve certain kinds of problems for some people at one level, but it introduces wider and deeper issues too. To live at one level, disregarding the total process of life, is to invite misery and destruction. The greatest need and most pressing problem for every individual is to have an integrated comprehension of life, which will enable him to meet its everincreasing complexities. Technical knowledge, however necessary, will in no way resolve our inner, psychological pressures and conflict; and it is because we have acquired technical knowledge without understanding the total process of life that technology has become a means of destroying ourselves. The man who knows how to split the atom but has no love in his heart becomes a monster. We choose a vocation according to our capacities; but will the following of a vocation lead us out of conflict and confusion? Some form of technical training seems necessary; but when we have become engineers, physicians, accountants - then what? Is the practice of a profession the fulfilment of life? Apparently with most of us it is. Our various professions may keep us busy for the greater part of our existence; but the very things that we produce and are so entranced with are causing destruction and misery. Our attitudes and values make of things and occupations the instruments of envy, bitterness and hate. Without understanding ourselves, mere occupation leads to frustration, with its inevitable escapes through all kinds of mischievous activities. Technique without understanding leads to enmity and ruthlessness, which we cover up with pleasant-sounding phrases. Of what value is it to emphasize technique and become efficient entities if the result is mutual destruction? Our technical progress is fantastic, but it has only increased our powers of destroying one another, and there is starvation and misery in every land. We are not peaceful and happy people. When function is all-important, life becomes dull and boring, a mechanical and sterile routine from which we escape into every kind of distraction. The accumulation of facts and the development of capacity, which we call education, has deprived us of the fullness of integrated life and action. It is because we do not understand the total process of life that we cling to capacity and efficiency, which thus assume overwhelming importance. But the whole cannot be understood through the part; it can be understood only through action and experience. Another factor in the cultivation of technique is that it gives us a sense of security, not only economic, but psychological as well. It is reassuring to know that we are capable and efficient. To know that we can play the piano or build a house gives us a feeling of vitality, of aggressive independence; but to emphasize capacity because of a desire for psychological security is to deny the fullness of life. The whole content of life can never be foreseen, it must be experienced anew from moment to moment; but we are afraid of the unknown, and so we establish for ourselves psychological zones of safety in the form of systems, techniques and beliefs. As long as we are seeking inward security, the total process of life cannot be understood. The right kind of education, while encouraging the learning of a technique, should accomplish something which is of far greater importance: it should help man to experience the integrated process of life. It is this experiencing that will put capacity and technique in their right place. If one really has something to say, the very saying of it creates its own style; but learning a style without inward experiencing can only lead to superficiality. Throughout the world, engineers are frantically designing machines which do not need men to operate them. In a life run almost entirely by machines, what is to become of human beings? We shall have more and more leisure without knowing wisely how to employ it, and we shall seek escape through knowledge, through enfeebling amusements, or through ideals. I believe volumes have been written about educational ideals, yet we are in greater confusion than ever before. There is no method by which to educate a child to be integrated and free. As long as we are concerned with principles, ideals and methods, we are not helping the individual to be free from his own self-centred activity with all its fears and conflicts. Ideals and blueprints for a perfect Utopia will never bring about the radical change of heart which is essential if there is to be an end to war and universal destruction. Ideals cannot change our present values: they can be changed only by the right kind of education, which is to foster the understanding of what is. When we are working together for an ideal, for the future, we shape individuals according to our conception of that future; we are not concerned with human beings at all, but with our idea of what they should be. The what should be becomes far more important to us than what is, namely, the individual with his complexities. If we begin to understand the individual directly instead of looking at him through the screen of what we think he should be, then we are concerned with what is. Then we no longer want to transform the individual into something else; our only concern is to help him to understand himself, and in this there is no personal motive or gain. If we are fully aware of what is, we shall understand it and so be free of it; but to be aware of what we are, we must stop struggling after something which we are not. Ideals have no place in education for they prevent the comprehension of the present. Surely, we can be aware of what is only when we do not escape into the future. To look to the future, to strain after an ideal, indicates sluggishness of mind and a desire to avoid the present. Is not the pursuit of a ready-made Utopia a denial of the freedom and integration of the individual? When one follows an ideal, a pattern, when one has a formula for what should be, does one not live a very superficial, automatic life? We need, not idealists or entities with mechanical minds, but integrated human beings who are intelligent and free. Merely to have a design for a perfect society is to wrangle and shed blood for what should be while ignoring what is. If human beings were mechanical entities, automatic machines, then the future would be predictable and the plans for a perfect Utopia could be drawn up; then we would be able to plan carefully a future society and work towards it. But human beings are not machines to be established according to a definite pattern. Between now and the future there is an immense gap in which many influences are at work upon each one of us, and in sacrificing the present for the future we are pursuing wrong means to a probable right end. But the means determine the end; and besides, who are we to decide what man should be? By what right do we seek to mould him according to a particular pattern, learnt from some book or determined by our own ambitions, hopes and fears? The right kind of education is not concerned with any ideology, however much it may promise a future Utopia: it is not based on any system, however carefully thought out; nor is it a means of conditioning the individual in some special manner. Education in the true sense is helping the individual to be mature and free, to flower greatly in love and goodness. That is what we should be interested in, and not in shaping the child according to some idealistic pattern. Any method which classifies children according to temperament and aptitude merely emphasizes their differences; it breeds antagonism, encourages divisions in society and does not help to develop integrated human beings. It is obvious that no method or system can provide the right kind of education, and strict adherence to a particular method indicates sluggishness on the part of the educator. As long as education is based on cut-and-dried principles, it can turn out men and women who are efficient, but it cannot produce creative human beings. Only love can bring about the understanding of another. Where there is love there is instantaneous communion with the other, on the same level and at the same time. It is because we ourselves are so dry, empty and without love that we have allowed governments and systems to take over the education of our children and the direction of our lives; but governments want efficient technicians, not human beings, because human beings become dangerous to governments - and to organized religions as well. That is why governments and religious organizations seek to control education. Life cannot be made to conform to a system, it cannot be forced into a framework, however nobly conceived; and a mind that has merely been trained in factual knowledge is incapable of meeting life with its variety, its subtlety, its depths and great heights. When we train our children according to a system of thought or a particular discipline, when we teach them to think within departmental divisions, we prevent them from growing into integrated men and women, and therefore they are incapable of thinking intelligently, which is to meet life as a whole. The highest function of education is to bring about an integrated individual who is capable of dealing with life as a whole. The idealist, like the specialist, is not concerned with the whole, but only with a part. There can be no integration as long as one is pursuing an ideal pattern of action; and most teachers who are idealists have put away love, they have dry minds and hard hearts. To study a child, one has to be alert, watchful, self-aware, and this demands far greater intelligence and affection than to encourage him to follow an ideal. Another function of education is to create new values. Merely to implant existing values in the mind of the child, to make him conform to ideals, is to condition him without awakening his intelligence. Education is intimately related to the present world crisis, and the educator who sees the causes of this universal chaos should ask himself how to awaken intelligence in the student, thus helping the coming generation not to bring about further conflict and disaster. He must give all his thought, all his care and affection to the creation of right environment and to the development of understanding, so that when the child grows into maturity he will be capable of dealing intelligently with the human problems that confront him. But in order to do this, the educator must understand himself instead of relying on ideologies, systems and beliefs. Let us not think in terms of principles and ideals, but be concerned with things as they are; for it is the consideration of what is that awakens intelligence, and the intelligence of the educator is far more important than his knowledge of a new method of education. When one follows a method, even if it has been worked out by a thoughtful and intelligent person, the method becomes very important, and the children are important only as they fit into it. One measures and classifies the child, and then proceeds to educate him according to some chart. This process of education may be convenient for the teacher, but neither the practice of a system nor the tyranny of opinion and learning can bring about an integrated human being. The right kind of education consists in understanding the child as he is without imposing upon him an ideal of what we think he should be. To enclose him in the framework of an ideal is to encourage him to conform, which breeds fear and produces in him a constant conflict between what he is and what he should be; and all inward conflicts have their outward manifestations in society. Ideals are an actual hindrance to our understanding of the child and to the child's understanding of himself. A parent who really desires to understand his child does not look at him through the screen of an ideal. If he loves the child, he observes him, he studies his tendencies, his moods and peculiarities. It is only when one feels no love for the child that one imposes upon him an ideal, for then one's ambitions are trying to fulfil themselves in him, wanting him to become this or that. If one loves, not the ideal, but the child, then there is a possibility of helping him to understand himself as he is. If a child tells lies, for example, of what value is it to put before him the ideal of truth? One has to find out why he is telling lies. To help the child, one has to take time to study and observe him, which demands patience, love and care; but when one has no love, no understanding, then one forces the child into a pattern of action which we call an ideal. Ideals are a convenient escape, and the teacher who follows them is incapable of understanding his students and dealing with them intelligently; for him, the future ideal, the what should be, is far more important than the present child. The pursuit of an ideal excludes love, and without love no human problem can be solved. If the teacher is of the right kind, he will not depend on a method, but will study each individual pupil. In our relationship with children and young people, we are not dealing with mechanical devices that can be quickly repaired, but with living beings who are impressionable, volatile, sensitive, afraid, affectionate; and to deal with them, we have to have great understanding, the strength of patience and love. When we lack these, we look to quick and easy remedies and hope for marvellous and automatic results. If we are unaware, mechanical in our attitudes and actions, we fight shy of any demand upon us that is disturbing and that cannot be met by an automatic response, and this is one of our major difficulties in education. The child is the result of both the past and the present and is therefore already conditioned. If we transmit our background to the child, we perpetuate both his and our own conditioning. There is radical transformation only when we understand our own conditioning and are free of it. To discuss what should be the right kind of education while we ourselves are conditioned is utterly futile. While the children are young, we must of course protect them from physical harm and prevent them from feeling physically insecure. But unfortunately we do not stop there; we want to shape their ways of thinking and feeling, we want to mould them in accordance with our own cravings and intentions. We seek to fulfil ourselves in our children, to perpetuate ourselves through them. We build walls around them, condition them by our beliefs and ideologies, fears and hopes - and then we cry and pray when they are killed or maimed in wars, or otherwise made to suffer by the experiences of life. Such experiences do not bring about freedom; on the contrary, they strengthen the will of the self. The self is made up of a series of defensive and expansive reactions, and its fulfillment is always in its own projections and gratifying identifications. As long as we translate experience in terms of the self, of the "me" and the "mine," as long as the "I," the ego, maintains itself through its reactions, experience cannot be freed from conflict, confusion and pain. Freedom comes only when one understands the ways of the self, the experiencer. It is only when the self, with its accumulated reactions, is not the experiencer, that experience takes on an entirely different significance and becomes creation. If we would help the child to be free from the ways of the self, which cause so much suffering, then each one of us should set about altering deeply his attitude and relationship to the child. Parents and educators, by their own thought and conduct, can help the child to be free and to flower in love and goodness. Education as it is at present in no way encourages the understanding of the inherited tendencies and environmental influences which condition the mind and heart and sustain fear, and therefore it does not help us to break through the conditioning and bring about an integrated human being. Any form of education that concerns itself with a part and not with the whole of man inevitably leads to increasing conflict and suffering. It is only in individual freedom that love and goodness can flower; and the right kind of education alone can offer this freedom. Neither conformity to the present society nor the promise of a future Utopia can ever give to the individual that insight without which he is constantly creating problems. The right kind of educator, seeing the inward nature of freedom, helps each individual student to observe and understand his own self-projected values and impositions; he helps him to become aware of the conditioning influences about him, and of his own desires, both of which limit his mind and breed fear; he helps him, as he grows to manhood, to observe and understand himself in relation to all things, for it is the craving for self-fulfilment that brings endless conflict and sorrow. Surely, it is possible to help the individual to perceive the enduring values of life, without conditioning. Some may say that this full development of the individual will lead to chaos; but will it? There is already confusion in the world, and it has arisen because the individual has not been educated to understand himself. While he has been given some superficial freedom, he has also been taught to conform, to accept the existing values. Against this regimentation, many are revolting; but unfortunately their revolt is a mere self-seeking reaction, which only further darkens our existence. The right kind of educator, aware of the mind's tendency to reaction, helps the student to alter present values, not out of reaction against them, but through understanding the total process of life. Full cooperation between man and man is not possible without the integration which right education can help to awaken in the individual. Why are we so sure that neither we nor the coming generation, through the right kind of education, can bring about a fundamental alteration in human relationship? We have never tried it; and as most of us seem to be fearful of the right kind of education, we are disinclined to try it. Without really inquiring into this whole question, we assert that human nature cannot be changed, we accept things as they are and encourage the child to fit into the present society; we condition him to our present ways of life, and hope for the best. But can such conformity to present values, which lead to war and starvation, be considered education? Let us not deceive ourselves that this conditioning is going to make for intelligence and happiness. If we remain fearful, devoid of affection, hopelessly apathetic, it means that we are really not interested in encouraging the individual to flower greatly in love and goodness, but prefer that he carry on the miseries with which we have burdened ourselves and of which he also is a part. To condition the student to accept the present environment is quite obviously stupid. Unless we voluntarily bring about a radical change in education, we are directly responsible for the perpetuation of chaos and misery; and when some mons and brutal revolution finally comes, it will only give opportunity to another group of people to exploit and to be ruthless. Each group in power develops its own means of oppression, whether through psychological persuasion or brute force. For political and industrial reasons, discipline has become an important factor in the present social structure, and it is because of our desire to be psychologically secure that we accept and practise various forms of discipline. Discipline guarantees a result, and to us the end is more important than the means; but the means determine the end. One of the dangers of discipline is that the system becomes more important than the human beings who are enclosed in it. Discipline then becomes a substitute for love, and it is because our hearts are empty that we cling to discipline. Freedom can never come through discipline, through resistance; freedom is not a goal, an end to be achieved. Freedom is at the beginning, not at the end, it is not to be found in some distant ideal. Freedom does not mean the opportunity for self-gratification or the setting aside of consideration for others. The teacher who is sincere will protect the children and help them in every possible way to grow towards the right kind of freedom; but it will be impossible for him to do this if he himself is addicted to an ideology, if he is in any way dogmatic or self-seeking. Sensitivity can never be awakened through compulsion, One may compel a child to be outwardly quiet, but one has not come face to face with that which is making him obstinate, impudent, and so on. Compulsion breeds antago- nism and fear. Reward and punishment in any form only make the mind subservient and dull; and if this is what we desire, then education through compulsion is an excellent way to proceed. But such education cannot help us to understand the child, nor can it build a right social environment in which separatism and hatred will cease to exist. In the love of the child, right education is implied. But most of us do not love our children; we are ambitious for them - which means that we are ambitious for ourselves. Unfortunately, we are so busy with the occupations of the mind that we have little time for the promptings of the heart. After all, discipline implies resistance; and will resistance ever bring love? Discipline can only build walls about us; it is always exclusive, ever making for conflict. Discipline is not conducive to understanding; for understanding comes with observation, with inquiry in which all prejudice is set aside. Discipline is an easy way to control a child, but it does not help him to understand the problems involved in living. Some form of compulsion, the discipline of punishment and reward, may be necessary to maintain order and seeming quietness among a large number of students herded together in a classroom; but with the right kind of educator and a small number of students, would any repression, politely called discipline, be required? If the classes are small and the teacher can give his full attention to each child, observing and helping him, then compulsion or domination in any form is obviously unnecessary. If, in such a group, a student persists in disorderliness or is unreasonably mischievous, the educator must inquire into the cause of his misbehaviour, which may be wrong diet, lack of rest, family wrangles, or some hidden fear. Implicit in right education is the cultivation of freedom and intelligence, which is not possible if there is any form of compulsion, with its fears. After all, the concern of the educator is to help the student to understand the complexities of his whole being. To require him to suppress one part of his nature for the benefit of some other part is to create in him an endless conflict which results in social antagonisms. It is intelligence that brings order, not discipline. Conformity and obedience have no place in the right kind of education. Cooperation between teacher and student is impossible if there is no mutual affection, mutual respect. When the showing of respect to elders is required of children, it generally becomes a habit, a mere outward performance, and fear assumes the form of veneration. Without respect and consideration, no vital relationship is possible, especially when the teacher is merely an instrument of his knowledge. If the teacher demands respect from his pupils and has very little for them, it will obviously cause indifference and disrespect on their part. Without respect for human life, knowledge only leads to destruction and misery. The cultivation of respect for others is an essential part of right education, but if the educator himself has not this quality, he cannot help his students to an integrated life. Intelligence is discernment of the essential, and to discern the essential there must be freedom from those hindrances which the mind projects in the search for its own security and comfort. Fear is inevitable as long as the mind is seeking security; and when human beings are regimented in any way, keen awareness and intelligence are destroyed. The purpose of education is to cultivate right relationship, not only between individuals, but also between the individual and society; and that is why it is essential that education should, above all, help the individual to understand his own psychological process. Intelligence lies in understanding oneself and going above and beyond oneself; but there cannot be intelligence as long as there is fear. Fear perverts intelligence and is one of the causes of self-centred action. Discipline may suppress fear but does not eradicate it, and the superficial knowledge which we receive in modern education only further conceals it. When we are young, fear is instilled into most of us both at home and at school. Neither parents nor teachers have the patience, the time or the wisdom to dispel the instinctive fears of childhood, which, as we grow up, dominate our attitudes and judgment and create a great many problems. The right kind of education must take into consideration this question of fear, because fear warps our whole outlook on life. To be without fear is the beginning of wisdom, and only the right kind of education can bring about the freedom from fear in which alone there is deep and creative intelligence. Reward or punishment for any action merely strengthens self-centredness. Action for the sake of another, in the name of the country or of God, leads to fear, and fear can- not be the basis for right action. If we would help a child to be considerate of others, we should not use love as a bribe, but take the time and have the patience to explain the ways of consideration. There is no respect for another when there is a reward for it, for the bribe or the punishment becomes far more significant than the feeling of respect. If we have no respect for the child but merely offer him a reward or threaten him with punishment, we are encouraging acquisitiveness and fear. Because we ourselves have been brought up to act for the sake of a result, we do not see that there can be action free of the desire to gain. The right kind of education will encourage thoughtfulness and consideration for others without enticements or threats of any kind. If we no longer seek immediate results, we shall begin to see how important it is that both the educator and the child should be free from the fear of punishment and the hope of reward, and from every other form of compulsion; but compulsion will continue as long, as authority is part of relationship. To follow authority has many advantages if one thinks in terms of personal motive and gain; but education based on individual advancement and profit can only build a social structure which is competitive, antagonistic and ruthless. This is the kind of society in which we have been brought up, and our animosity and confusion are obvious. We have been taught to conform to the authority of a teacher, of a book, of a party, because it is profitable to do so. The specialists in every department of life, from the priest to the bureaucrat, wield authority and dominate us; but any government or teacher that uses compulsion can never bring about the cooperation in relationship which is essential for the welfare of society. If we are to have right relationship between human beings, there should be no compulsion nor even persuasion. How can there be affection and genuine co-operation between those who are in power and those who are subject to power? By dispassionately considering this question of authority and its many implications, by seeing that the very desire for power is in itself destructive, there comes a spontaneous understanding of the whole process of authority. The moment we discard authority we are in partnership, and only then is there cooperation and affection. The real problem in education is the educator. Even a small group of student becomes the instrument of his personal importance if he uses authority as a means of his own release, if teaching is for him a self-expansive fulfilment. But mere intellectual or verbal agreement concerning the crippling effects of authority is stupid and vain. There must be deep insight into the hidden motivations of authority and domination. If we see that intelligence can never be awakened through compulsion, the very awareness of that fact will burn away our fears, and then we shall begin to cultivate a new environment which will be contrary to and far transcend the present social order. To understand the significance of life with its conflicts and pain, we must think independently of any authority, including the authority of organized religion; but if in our desire to help the child we set before him authoritative examples, we shall only be encouraging fear, imitation and various forms of superstition. Those who are religiously inclined try to impose upon the child the beliefs, hopes and fears which they in turn have acquired from their parents; and those who are anti-religious are equally keen to influence the child to accept the particular way of thinking which they happen to follow. We all want our children to accept our form of worship or take to heart our chosen ideology. It is so easy to get entangled in images and formulations, whether invented by ourselves or by others, and therefore it is necessary to be ever watchful and alert. What we call religion is merely organized belief, with its dogmas, rituals, mysteries and superstitions. Each religion has its own sacred book, its mediator, its priests and its ways of threatening and holding people. Most of us have been conditioned to all this, which is considered religious education; but this conditioning sets man against man, it creates antagonism, not only among the believers, but also against those of other beliefs. Though all religions assert that they worship God and say that we must love one another, they instill fear through their doctrines of reward and punishment, and through their competitive dogmas they perpetuate suspicion and antagonism. Dogmas, mysteries and rituals are not conducive to a spiritual life. Religious education in the true sense is to encourage the child to understand his own relationship to people, to things and to nature. There is no existence without relationship; and without self-knowledge, all relationship, with the one and with the many, brings conflict and sorrow. Of course, to explain this fully to a child is impossible; but if the educator and the parents deeply grasp the full significance of relationship, then by their attitude, conduct and speech they will surely be able to convey to the child, without too many words and explanations, the meaning of a spiritual life. Our so called religious training discourages questioning and doubt, yet it is only when we inquire into the significance of the values which society and religion have placed about us that we begin to find out what is true. It is the function of the educator to examine deeply his own thoughts and feelings and to put aside those values which have given him security and comfort, for only then can he help his students to be self-aware and to understand their own urges and fears. The time to grow straight and clear is when one is young; and those of us who are older can, if we have understanding, help the young to free themselves from the hindrances which society has imposed upon them, as well as from those which they themselves are projecting. If the child's mind and heart are not moulded by religious preconceptions and prejudices, then he will be free to discover through self-knowledge what is above and beyond himself. True religion is not a set of beliefs and rituals, hopes and fears; and if we can allow the child to grow up without these hindering influences, then perhaps, as he matures, he will begin to inquire into the nature of reality, of God. That is why, in educating a child, deep insight and understanding are necessary. Most people who are religiously inclined, who talk about God and immortality, do not fundamentally believe in individual freedom and integration; yet religion is the cultivation of freedom in the search for truth. There can be no compromise with freedom. Partial freedom for the individual is no freedom at all. Conditioning, of any kind, whether political or religious, is not freedom and it will never bring peace. Religion is not a form of conditioning. It is a state of tranquillity in which there is reality, God; but that creative state can come into being only when there is self-knowledge and freedom. Freedom brings virtue, and without virtue there can be no tranquillity. The still mind is not a conditioned mind, it is not disciplined or trained to be still. Stillness comes only when the mind understands its own ways, which are the ways of the self. Organized religion is the frozen thought of man, out of which he builds temples and churches; it has become a solace for the fearful, an opiate for those who are in sorrow. But God or truth is far beyond thought and emotional demands. Parents and teachers who recognize the psychological processes which build up fear and sorrow should be able to help the young to observe and understand their own conflicts and trials. If we who are older can help the children, as they grow up, to think clearly and dispassionately, to love and not to breed animosity, what more is there to do? But if we are constantly at one another's throats, if we are incapable of bringing about order and peace in the world by deeply changing ourselves, of what value are the sacred books and the myths of the various religions? True religious education is to help the child to be intelligently aware, to discern for himself the temporary and the real, and to have a disinterested approach to life; and would it not have more meaning to begin each day at home or at school with a serious thought, or with a reading that has depth and significance, rather than mumble some oft-repeated words or phrases? Past generations, with their ambitions, traditions and ideals, have brought misery and destruction to the world; perhaps the coming generations, with the right kind of education, can put an end to this chaos and build a happier social order. If those who are young have the spirit of inquiry, if they are constantly searching out the truth of all things, political and religious, personal and environmental, then youth will have great significance and there is hope for a better world. Most children are curious, they want to know; but their eager inquiry is dulled by our pontifical assertions, our superior impatience and our casual brushing aside of their curiosity. We do not encourage their inquiry, for we are rather apprehensive of what may be asked of us; we do not foster their discontent, for we ourselves have ceased to question. Most parents and teachers are afraid of discontent because it is disturbing to all forms of security, and so they encourage the young to overcome it through safe jobs, inheritance, marriage and the consolation of religious dogmas. Elders, knowing only too well the many ways of blunting the mind and the heart, proceed to make the child as dull as they are by impressing upon him the authorities, traditions and beliefs which they themselves have accepted. Only by encouraging the child to question the book, whatever it be, to inquire into the validity of the existing social values, traditions, forms of government, religious beliefs and so on, can the educator and the parents hope to awaken and sustain his critical alertness and keen insight. The young, if they are at all alive, are full of hope and discontent; they must be, otherwise they are already old and dead. And the old are those who were once discontented, but who have successfully smothered that flame and have found security and comfort in various ways. They crave permanency for themselves and their families, they ardently desire certainty in ideas, in relationships, in possessions; so the moment they feel discontented, they become absorbed in their responsibilities, in their jobs, or in anything else, in order to escape from that disturbing feeling of discontent. While we are young is the time to be discontented, not only with ourselves, but also with the things about us. We should learn to think clearly and without bias, so as not to be inwardly dependent and fearful. Independence is not for that coloured section of the map which we call our country, but for ourselves as individuals; and though outwardly we are dependent on one another, this mutual dependence does not become cruel or oppressive if inwardly we are free of the craving for power, position and authority. We must understand discontent, of which most of us are afraid. Discontent may bring what appears to be disorder; but if it leads, as it should, to self-knowledge and self-abnegation, then it will create a new social order and enduring peace. With self-abnegation comes immeasurable joy. Discontent is the means to freedom; but in order to inquire without bias, there must be none of the emotional dissipation which often takes the form of political gatherings, the shouting of slogans, the search for a guru or spiritual teacher, and religious orgies of different kinds. This dissipation dulls the mind and heart, making them incapable of insight and therefore easily moulded by circumstances and fear. It is the burning desire to inquire, and not the easy imitation of the multitude, that will bring about a new understanding of the ways of life. The young are so easily persuaded by the priest or the politician, by the rich or the poor, to think in a particular way; but the right kind of education should help them to be watchful of these influences so that they do not repeat slogans like parrots or fall into any cunning trap of greed, whether their own or that of another. They must not allow authority to stifle their minds and hearts. To follow another, however great, or to give one's adherence to a gratifying ideology, will not bring about a peaceful world. When we leave school or college, many of us put away books and seem to feel that we are done with learning; and there are those who are stimulated to think further afield, who keep on reading and absorbing what others have said, and become addicted to knowledge. As long as there is the worship of knowledge or technique as a means to success and dominance, there must be ruthless competition, antagonism and the ceaseless struggle for bread. As long as success is our goal we cannot be rid of fear, for the desire to succeed inevitably breeds the fear of failure. That is why the young should not be taught to worship success. Most people seek success in one form or another, whether on the tennis court, in the business world, or in politics. We all want to be on top, and this desire creates constant conflict within ourselves and with our neighbours; it leads to competition, envy, animosity and finally to war. Like the older generation, the young also seek success and security; though at first they may be discontented, they soon become respectable and are afraid to say no to society. The walls of their own desires begin to enclose them, and they fall in line and assume the reins of authority. Their discontent, which is the very flame of inquiry, of search, of understanding, grows dull and dies away, and in its place there comes the desire for a better job, a rich marriage, a successful career, all of which is the craving for more security. There is no essential difference between the old and the young, for both are slaves to their own desires and gratifications. Maturity is not a matter of age, it comes with understanding. The ardent spirit of inquiry is perhaps easier for the young, because those who are older have been battered about by life, conflicts have worn them out and death in different forms awaits them. This does not mean that they are incapable of purposive inquiry, but only that it is more difficult for them. Many adults are immature and rather childish, and this is a contributing cause of the confusion and misery in the world. It is the older people who are responsible for the prevailing economic and moral crisis; and one of our unfortunate weaknesses is that we want someone else to act for us and change the course of our lives. We wait for others to revolt and build anew, and we remain inactive until we are assured of the outcome. It is security and success that most of us are after; and a mind that is seeking security, that craves success, is not intelligent, and is therefore incapable of integrated action. There can be integrated action only if one is aware of one's own conditioning, of one's racial, national, political and religious prejudices; that is, only if one realizes that the ways of the self are ever separative. Life is a well of deep waters. One can come to it with small buckets and draw only a little water, or one can come with large vessels, drawing plentiful waters that will nourish and sustain. While one is young is the time to investigate, to experiment with everything. The school should help its young people to discover their vocations and responsibilities, and not merely cram their minds with facts and technical knowledge; it should be the soil in which they can grow without fear, happily and integrally. To educate a child is to help him to understand freedom and integration. To have freedom there must be order, which virtue alone can give; and integration can take place only when there is great simplicity. From innumerable complexities we must grow to simplicity; we must become simple in our inward life and in our outward needs. Education is at present concerned with outward efficiency, and it utterly disregards, or deliberately perverts, the inward nature of man; it develops only one part of him and leaves the rest to drag along as best it can. Our inner confusion, antagonism and fear ever overcome the outer structure of society, however nobly conceived and cunningly built. When there is not the right kind of education we destroy one another, and physical security for every individual is denied. To educate the student rightly is to help him to understand the total process of himself; for it is only when there is integration of the mind and heart in everyday action that there can be intelligence and inward transformation. While offering information and technical training, education should above all encourage an integrated outlook on life; it should help the student to recognize and break down in himself all social distinctions and prejudices, and discourage the acquisitive pursuit of power and domination. It should encourage the right kind of self-observation and the experiencing of life as a whole, which is not to give significance to the part, to the "me" and the"mine," but to help the mind to go above and beyond itself to discover the real. Freedom comes into being only through self-knowledge in one's daily occupations, that is, in one's relationship with people, with things, with ideas and with nature. If the educator is helping the student to be integrated, there can be no fanatical or unreasonable emphasis on any particular phase of life. It is the understanding of the total process of existence that brings integration. When there is self-knowledge, the power of creating illusions ceases, and only then is it possible for reality or God, to be. Human beings must be integrated if they are to come out of any crisis, and especially the present world crisis, without being broken; therefore, to parents and teachers who are really interested in education, the main problem is how to develop an integrated individual. To do this, the educator himself must obviously be integrated; so the right kind of education is of the highest importance, not only for the young, but also for the older generation if they are willing to learn and are not too set in their ways. What we are in ourselves is much more important than the additional question of what to teach the child, and if we love our children we will see to it that they have the right kind of educators. Teaching should not become a specialist's profession. When it does, as is so often the case, love fades away; and love is essential to the process of integration. To be integrated there must be freedom from fear. Fearlessness brings independence without ruthlessness, without contempt for another, and this is the most essential factor in life. Without love we cannot work out our many conflicting increases confusion and leads to self-destruction. The integrated human being will come to technique through experiencing, for the creative impulse makes its own technique -and that is the greatest art. When a child has the creative impulse to paint, he paints, he does not bother about technique. Likewise people who are experiencing, and therefore teaching, are the only real teachers, and they too will create their own technique. This sounds very simple, but it is really a deep revolution. If we think about it we can see the extraordinary effect it will have on society. At present most of us are washed out at the age of forty- five or fifty by slavery to routine; through compliance, through fear and acceptance, we are finished, though we struggle on in a society that has very little meaning except for those who dominate it and are secure. If the teacher sees this and is himself really experiencing, then whatever his temperament and capacities may be, his teaching will not be a matter of routine but will become an instrument of help. To understand a child we have to watch him at play, study him in his different moods; we cannot project upon him our own prejudices, hopes and fears, or mould him to fit the pattern of our desires. If we are constantly judging the child according to our personal likes and dislikes, we are bound to create barriers and hindrances in our relationship with him and in his relationships with the world. Unfortunately, most of us desire to shape the child in a way that is gratifying to our own vanities and idiosyncrasies; we find varying degrees of comfort and satisfaction in exclusive ownership and domination. Surely, this process is not relationship, but mere imposition, and it is therefore essential to understand the difficult and complex desire to dominate. It takes many subtle forms; and in its self-righteous aspect, it is very obstinate. The desire to "serve" with the unconscious longing to dominate is difficult to understand. Can there be love where there is possessiveness? Can we be in communion with those whom we seek to control? To dominate is to use another for self-gratification, and where there is the use of another there is no love. When there is love there is consideration, not only for the children but for every human being. Unless we are deeply touched by the problem, we will never find the right way of education. Mere technical training inevitably makes for ruthlessness, and to educate our children we must be sensitive to the whole movement of life. What we think, what we do, what we say matters infinitely, because it creates the environment, and the environment either helps or hinders the child. Obviously, then, those of us who are deeply interested in this problem will have to begin to understand ourselves and thereby help to transform society; we will make it our direct responsibility to bring about a new approach to education. If we love our children, will we not find a way of putting an end to war? But if we are merely using the word"love" without substance, then the whole complex problem of human misery will remain. The way out of this problem lies through ourselves. We must begin to understand our relationship with our fellow men, with nature, with ideas and with things, for without that understanding there is no hope, there is no way out of conflict and suffering. The bringing up of a child requires intelligent observation and care. Experts and their knowledge can never replace the parents' love, but most parents corrupt that love by their own fears and ambitions, which condition and distort the outlook of the child. So few of us are concerned with love, but we are vastly taken up with the appearance of love. The present educational and social structure does not help the individual towards freedom and integration; and if the parents are at all in earnest and desire that the child shall grow to his fullest integral capacity, they must begin to alter the influence of the home and set about creating schools with the right kind of educators. The influence of the home and that of the school must not be in any way contradictory, so both parents and teachers must re-educate themselves. The contradiction which so often exists between the private life of the individual and his life as a member of the group creates an endless battle within himself and in his relationships. This conflict is encouraged and sustained through the wrong kind of education, and both governments and organized religions add to the confusion by their contradictory doctrines. The child is divided within himself from the very start, which results in personal and social disasters. If those of us who love our children and see the urgency of this problem will set our minds and hearts to it, then, however few we may be, through right education and an intelligent home environment, we can help to bring about integrated human beings; but if, like so many others, we fill our hearts with the cunning things of the mind, then we shall continue to see our children destroyed in wars, in famines, and by their own psychological conflicts. Right education comes with the transformation of ourselves. We must re-educate ourselves not to kill one another for any cause, however righteous, for any ideology, however promising it may appear to be for the future happiness of the world. We must learn to be compassionate, to be content with little, and to seek the Supreme, for only then can there be the true salvation of mankind. EDUCATION AND THE SIGNIFICANCE OF LIFE CHAPTER 3 'INTELLECT, AUTHORITY AND INTELLIGENCE' MANY of us seem to think that by teaching every human being to read and write, we shall solve our human problems; but this idea has proved to be false. The so-called educated are not peace-loving, integrated people, and they too are responsible for the confusion and misery of the world. The right kind of education means the awakening of intelligence, the fostering of an integrated life, and only such education can create a new culture and a peaceful world; but to bring about this new kind of education, we must make a fresh start on an entirely different basis. With the world falling into ruin about us, we discuss theories and vain political questions, and play with superficial reforms. Does this not indicate utter thoughtlessness on our part? Some may agree that it does, but they will go on doing exactly as they have always done - and that is the sadness of existence. When we hear a truth and do not act upon it, it becomes a poison within ourselves, and that poison spreads, bringing psychological disturbances, unbalance and ill health. Only when creative intelligence is awakened in the individual is there a possibility of a peaceful and happy life. We cannot be intelligent by merely substituting one government for another, one party or class for another, one exploiter for another. Bloody revolution can never solve our problems. Only a profound inward revolution which alters all our values can create a different environment, an intelligent social structure, and such a revolution can be brought about only by you and me. No new order will arise until we individually break down our own psychological barriers and are free. On paper we can draw the blueprints for a brilliant Utopia, a brave new world; but the sacrifice of the present to an unknown future will certainly never solve any of our problems. There are so many elements intervening between now and the future, that no man can know what the future will be. What we can and must do if we are in earnest, is to tackle our problems now, and not postpone them to the future. Eternity is not in the future; eternity is now. Our problems exist in the present, and it is only in the present that they can be solved. Those of us who are serious must regenerate ourselves; but there can be regeneration only when we break away from those values which we have created through our self-protective and aggressive desires. Self-knowledge is the beginning of freedom, and it is only when we know ourselves that we can bring about order and peace. Now, some may ask, `What can a single individual do that will affect history? Can he accomplish anything at all by the way he lives?" Certainly he can. You and I are obviously not going to stop the immediate wars, or create an instantaneous understanding between nations; but at least we can bring about, in the world of our everyday relationships, a fundamental change which will have its own effect. Individual enlightenment does affect large groups of people, but only if one is not eager for results. If one thinks in terms of gain and effect, right transformation of oneself is not possible. Human problems are not simple, they are very complex. To understand them requires patience and insight, and it is of the highest importance that we as individuals understand and resolve them for ourselves. They are not to be understood through easy formulas or slogans; nor can they be solved at their own level by specialists working along a particular line, which only leads to further confusion and misery. Our many problems can be understood and resolved only when we are aware of ourselves as a total process, that is, when we understand our whole psychological make-up; and no religious or political leader can give us the key to that understanding. To understand ourselves, we must be aware of our relationship, not only with people, but also with property, with ideas and with nature. If we are to bring about a true revolution in human relationship, which is the basis of all society, there must be a fundamental change in our own values and outlook; but we avoid the necessary and fundamental transformation of ourselves, and try to bring about political revolutions in the world, which always leads to bloodshed and disaster. Relationship based on sensation can never be a means of release from the self; yet most of our relationships are based on sensation, they are the outcome of our desire for personal advantage, for comfort, for psychological security. Though they may offer us a momentary escape from the self, such relationships only give strength to the self, with its enclosing and binding activities. Relationship is a mirror in which the self and all its activities can be seen; and it is only when the ways of the self are understood in the reactions of relationship that there is creative release from the self. To transform the world, there must be regeneration within ourselves. Nothing can be achieved by violence, by the easy liquidation of one another. We may find a temporary release by joining groups, by studying methods of social and economic reform, by enacting legislation, or by praying; but do what we will, without self-knowledge and the love that is inherent in it, our problems will ever expand and multiply. Whereas, if we apply our minds and hearts to the task of knowing ourselves, we shall undoubtedly solve our many conflicts and sorrows. Modern education is making us into thoughtless entities; it does very little towards helping us to find our individual vocation. We pass certain examinations and then, with luck, we get a job - which often means endless routine for the rest of our life. We may dislike our job, but we are forced to continue with it because we have no other means of livelihood. We may want to do something entirely different, but commitments and responsibilities hold us down, and we are hedged in by our own anxieties and fears. Being frustrated, we seek escape through sex, drink, politics or fanciful religion. When our ambitions are thwarted, we give undue importance to that which should be normal, and we develop a psychological twist. Until we have a comprehensive understanding of our life and love, of our political, religious and social desires, with their demands and hindrances, we shall have everincreasing problems in our relationships, leading us to misery and destruction. Ignorance is lack of knowledge of the ways of the self, and this ignorance cannot be dissipated by superficial activities and reforms; it can be dissipated only by one's constant awareness of the movements and responses of the self in all its relationships. What we must realize is that we are not only conditioned by environment, but that we are the environment - we are not something apart from it. Our thoughts and responses are conditioned by the values which society, of which we are a part, has imposed upon us. We never see that we are the total environment because there are several entities in us, all revolving around the `me', the self. The self is made up of these entities, which are merely desires in various forms. From this conglomeration of desires arises the central figure, the thinker, the will of the"me" and the "mine; and a division is thus established between the self and the not-self, between the"me" and the environment or society. This separation is the beginning of conflict, inward and outward. Awareness of this whole process, both the conscious and the hidden, is meditation; and through this meditation the self, with its desires and conflicts, is transcended. Self-knowledge is necessary if one is to be free of the influences and values that give shelter to the self; and in this freedom alone is there creation, truth, God, or what you will. Opinion and tradition mould our thoughts and feelings from the tenderest age. The immediate influences and impressions produce an effect which is powerful and lasting, and which shapes the whole course of our conscious and unconscious life. Conformity begins in childhood through education and the impact of society. The desire to imitate is a very strong factor in our life, not only at the superficial levels, but also profoundly. We have hardly any independent thoughts and feelings. When they do occur, they are mere reactions, and are therefore not free from the established pattern; for there is no freedom in reaction. Philosophy and religion lay down certain methods whereby we can come to the realization of truth or God; yet merely to follow a method is to remain thoughtless and unintegrated, however beneficial the method may seem to be in our daily social life. The urge to conform, which is the desire for security, breeds fear and brings to the fore the political and religious authorities, the leaders and heroes who encourage subservience and by whom we are subtly or grossly dominated; but not to conform is only a reaction against authority, and in no way helps us to become integrated human beings. Reaction is endless, it only leads to further reaction. Conformity, with its undercurrent of fear, is a hindrance; but mere intellectual recognition of this fact will not resolve the hindrance. It is only when we are aware of hindrances with our whole being that we can be free of them without creating further and deeper blockages. When we are inwardly dependent, then tradition has a great hold on us; and a mind that thinks along traditional lines cannot discover that which is new. By conforming we become mediocre imitators, cogs in a cruel social machine. It is what we think that matters, not what others want us to think. When we conform to tradition, we soon become mere copies of what we should be. This imitation of what we should be, breeds fear; and fear kills creative thinking. Fear dulls the mind and heart so that we are not alert to the whole significance of life; we become insensitive to our own sorrows, to the movement of the birds, to the smiles and miseries of others. Conscious and unconscious fear has many different causes, and it needs alert watchfulness to be rid of them all. Fear cannot be eliminated through discipline, sublimation, or through any other act of will: its causes have to be searched out and understood. This needs patience and an awareness in which there is no judgment of any kind. It is comparatively easy to understand and dissolve our conscious fears. But unconscious fears are not even discovered by most of us, for we do not allow them to come to the surface; and when on rare occasions they do come to the surface, we hasten to cover them up, to escape from them. Hidden fears often make their presence known through dreams and other forms of intimation, and they cause greater deterioration and conflict than do the superficial fears. Our lives are not just on the surface, their greater part is concealed from casual observation. If we would have our obscure fears come into the open and dissolve, the conscious mind must be somewhat still, not everlastingly occupied; then, as these fears come to the surface, they must be observed without let or hindrance, for any form of condemnation or justification only strengthens fear. To be free from all fear, we must be awake to its darkening influence, and only constant watchfulness can reveal its many causes. One of the results of fear is the acceptance of authority in human affairs. Authority is created by our desire to be right, to be secure, to be comfortable, to have no conscious conflicts or disturbances; but nothing which results from fear can help us to understand our problems, even though fear may take the form of respect and submission to the so-called wise. The wise wield no authority, and those in authority are not wise. Fear in whatever form prevents the understanding of ourselves and of our relationship to all things. The following of authority is the denial of intelligence. To accept authority is to submit to domination to sub- jugate oneself to an individual, to a group, or to an ideology, whether religious or political; and this subjugation of oneself to authority is the denial, not only of intelligence, but also of individual freedom. Compliance with a creed or a system of ideas is a self-protective reaction. The acceptance of authority may help us temporarily to cover up our difficulties and problems; but to avoid a problem is only to intensify it, and in the process, self-knowledge and freedom are abandoned. How can there be compromise between freedom and the acceptance of authority? If there is compromise, then those who say they are seeking self-knowledge and freedom are not earnest in their endeavour. We seem to think that freedom is an ultimate end, a goal, and that in order to become free we must first submit ourselves to various forms of suppression and intimidation. We hope to achieve freedom through conformity; but are not the means as important as the end? Do not the means shape the end? To have peace, one must employ peaceful means; for if the means are violent, how can the end be peaceful? If the end is freedom, the beginning must be free, for the end and the beginning are one. There can be self-knowledge and intelligence only when there is freedom at the very outset; and freedom is denied by the acceptance of authority. We worship authority in various forms: knowledge, success, power, and so on. We exert authority on the young, and at the same time we are afraid of superior authority. When man himself has no inward vision, outward power and position assume vast importance, and then the indi- vidual is more and more subject to authority and compulsion, he becomes the instrument of others. We can see this process going on around us: in moments of crisis, the democratic nations act like the totalitarian, forgetting their democracy and forcing man to conform. If we can understand the compulsion behind our desire to dominate or to be dominated, then perhaps we can be free from the crippling effects of authority. We crave to be certain, to be right, to be successful, to know; and this desire for certainty, for permanence, builds up within ourselves the authority of personal experience, while outwardly it creates the authority of society, of the family, of religion, and so on. But merely to ignore authority, to shake off its outward symbols, is of very little significance. To break away from one tradition and conform to another, to leave this leader and follow that, is but a superficial gesture. If we are to be aware of the whole process of authority, if we are to see the inwardness of it, if we are to understand and transcend the desire for certainty, then we must have extensive awareness and insight, we must be free, not at the end, but at the beginning. The craving for certainty, for security is one of the major activities of the self, and it is this compelling urge that has to be constantly watched, and not merely twisted or forced in another direction, or made to conform to a desired pattern. The self, the "me" and the "mine," is very strong in most of us; sleeping or waking, it is ever alert, always strengthening itself. But when there is an awareness of the self and a realization that all its activities, however subtle, must inevitably lead to conflict and pain, then the craving for certainty, for self-continuance comes to an end. One has to be constantly watchful for the self to reveal its ways and tricks; but when we begin to understand them, and to understand the implications of authority and all that is involved in our acceptance and denial of it, then we are already disentangling ourselves from authority. As long as the mind allows itself to be dominated and controlled by the desire for its own security, there can be no release from the self and its problems; and that is why there is no release from the self through dogma and organized belief, which we call religion. Dogma and belief are only projections of our own mind. The rituals, the puja, the accepted forms of meditation, the constantly-repeated words and phrases, though they may produce certain gratifying responses, do not free the mind from the self and its activities; for the self is essentially the outcome of sensation. In moments of sorrow, we turn to what we call God, which is but an image of our own minds; or we find gratifying explanations, and this gives us temporary comfort. The religions that we follow are created by our hopes and fears, by our desire for inward security and reassurance; and with the worship of authority, whether it is that of a saviour, a master or a priest, there come submission, acceptance and imitation. So, we are exploited in the name of God, as we are exploited in the name of parties and ideologies - and we go on suffering. We are all human beings, by whatever name we may call ourselves, and suffering is our lot. Sorrow is common to all of us, to the idealist and to the materialist. Idealism is an escape from what is, and materialism is another way of denying the measureless depths of the present. Both the idealist and the materialist have their own ways of avoiding the complex problem of suffering; both are consumed by their own cravings, ambitions and conflicts, and their ways of life are not conducive to tranquillity. They are both responsible for the confusion and misery of the world. Now, when we are in a state of conflict, of suffering, there is no comprehension: in that state, however cunningly and carefully thought out our action may be, it can only lead to further confusion and sorrow. To understand conflict and so to be free from it, there must be an awareness of the ways of the conscious and of the unconscious mind. No idealism, no system or pattern of any kind, can help us to unravel the deep workings of the mind; on the contrary, any formulation or conclusion will hinder their discovery. The pursuit of what should be, the attachment to principles, to ideals, the establishment of a goal - all this leads to many illusions. If we are to know ourselves, there must be a certain spontaneity, a freedom to observe, and this is not possible when the mind is enclosed in the superficial, in idealistic or materialistic values. Existence is relationship; and whether we belong to an organized religion or not, whether we are worldly or caught up in ideals, our suffering can be resolved only through the understanding of ourselves in relationship. Self-knowledge alone can bring tranquillity and happiness to man, for self-knowledge is the beginning of intelligence and integration. Intelligence is not mere superficial adjustment; it is not the cultivation of the mind, the acquisition of knowledge. Intelligence is the capacity to understand the ways of life, it is the perception of right values. Modern education, in developing the intellect, offers more and more theories and facts, without bringing about the understanding of the total process of human existence. We are highly intellectual; we have developed cunning minds, and are caught up in explanations. The intellect is satisfied with theories and explanations, but intelligence is not; and for the understanding of the total process of existence, there must be an integration of the mind and heart in action. Intelligence is not separate from love. For most of us, to accomplish this inward revolution is extremely arduous. We know how to meditate, how to play the piano, how to write, but we have no knowledge of the meditator, the player, the writer. We are not creators, for we have filled our hearts and minds with knowledge, information and arrogance; we are full of quotations from what others have thought or said. But experiencing comes first, not the way of experiencing. There must be love before there can be the expression of love. It is clear, then, that merely to cultivate the intellect, which is to develop capacity or knowledge, does not result in intelligence. There is a distinction between intellect and intelligence. Intellect is thought functioning independently of emotion, whereas, intelligence is the capacity to feel as well as to reason; and until we approach life with intelligence, instead of intellect alone, or with emotion alone, no political or educational system in the world can save us from the toils of chaos and destruction. Knowledge is not comparable with intelligence, knowledge is not wisdom. Wisdom is not marketable, it is not a merchandise that can be bought with the price of learning or discipline. Wisdom cannot be found in books; it cannot be accumulated, memorized or stored up. Wisdom comes with the abnegation of the self. To have an open mind is more important than learning; and we can have an open mind, not by cramming it full of information, but by being aware of our own thoughts and feelings, by carefully observing ourselves and the influences about us, by listening to others, by watching the rich and the poor, the powerful and the lowly. Wisdom does not come through fear and oppression, but through the observation and understanding of everyday incidents in human relationship. In our search for knowledge, in our acquisitive desires, we are losing love, we are blunting the feeling for beauty, the sensitivity to cruelty; we are becoming more and more specialized and less and less integrated. Wisdom cannot be replaced by knowledge, and no amount of explanation, no accumulation of facts, will free man from suffering. Knowledge is necessary, science has its place; but if the mind and heart are suffocated by knowledge, and if the cause of suffering is explained away, life becomes vain and meaningless. And is this not what is happening to most of us? Our education is making us more and more shallow; it is not helping us to uncover the deeper layers of our being, and our lives are increasingly disharmonious and empty. Information, the knowledge of facts, though ever increas- ing, is by its very nature limited. Wisdom is infinite, it includes knowledge and the way of action; but we take hold of a branch and think it is the whole tree. Through the knowledge of the part, we can never realize the joy of the whole. Intellect can never lead to the whole, for it is only a segment, a part. We have separated intellect from feeling, and have developed intellect at the expense of feeling. We are like a three-legged object with one leg much longer than the others, and we have no balance. We are trained to be intellectual; our education cultivates the intellect to be sharp, cunning, acquisitive, and so it plays the most important role in our life. Intelligence is much greater than intellect, for it is the integration of reason and love; but there can be intelligence only when there is self-knowledge, the deep understanding of the total process of oneself. What is essential for man, whether young or old, is to live fully, integrally, and that is why our major problem is the cultivation of that intelligence which brings integration. Undue emphasis on any part of our total make-up gives a partial and therefore distorted view of life, and it is this distortion which is causing most of our difficulties. Any partial development of our whole temperament is bound to be disastrous both for ourselves and for society, and so it is really very important that we approach our human problems with an integrated point of view. To be an integrated human being is to understand the entire process of one's own consciousness, both the hidden and the open. This is not possible if we give undue emphasis to the intellect. We attach great importance to the cultivation of the mind, but inwardly we are insufficient, poor and confused. This living in the intellect is the way of disintegration; for ideas, like beliefs, can never bring people together except in conflicting groups. As long as we depend on thought as a means of integration, there must be disintegration; and to understand the disintegrating action of thought is to be aware of the ways of the self, the ways of one's own desire. We must be aware of our conditioning and its responses, both collective and personal. It is only when one is fully aware of the activities of the self with its contradictory desires and pursuits, its hopes and fears, that there is a possibility of going beyond the self. Only love and right thinking will bring about true revolution, the revolution within ourselves. But how are we to have love? Not through the pursuit of the ideal of love, but only when there is no hatred, when there is no greed, when the sense of self, which is the cause of antagonism, comes to an end. A man who is caught up in the pursuits of exploitation, of greed, of envy, can never love. Without love and right thinking, oppression and cruelty will ever be on the increase. The problem of man's antagonism to man can be solved, not by pursuing the ideal of peace, but by understanding the causes of war which lie in our attitude towards life, towards our fellow-beings; and this understanding can come about only through the right kind of education. Without a change of heart, without goodwill, without the inward transformation which is born of self-awareness, there can be no peace, no happiness for men. EDUCATION AND THE SIGNIFICANCE OF LIFE CHAPTER 4 'EDUCATION AND WORLD PEACE' TO DISCOVER what part education can play in the present world crisis, we should understand how that crisis has come into being. It is obviously the result of wrong values in our relationship to people, to property and to ideas. If our relationship with others is based on self-aggrandizement, and our relationship to property is acquisitive, the structure of society is bound to be competitive and self-isolating. If in our relationship with ideas we justify one ideology in opposition to another, mutual distrust and ill will are the inevitable results. Another cause of the present chaos is dependence on authority, on leaders, whether in daily life, in the small school or in the university. Leaders and their authority are deteriorating factors in any culture. When we follow another there is no understanding, but only fear and conformity, eventually leading to the cruelty of the totalitarian State and the dogmatism of organized religion. To rely on governments, to look to organizations and authorities for that peace which must begin with the under- standing of ourselves, is to create further and still greater conflict; and there can be no lasting happiness as long as we accept a social order in which there is endless strife and antagonism between man and man. If we want to change existing conditions, we must first transform ourselves, which means that we must become aware of our own actions, thoughts and feelings in everyday life. But we do not really want peace, we do not want to put an end to exploitation. We will not allow our greed to be interfered with, or the foundations of our present social structure to be altered; we want things to continue as they are with only superficial modifications, and so the powerful, the cunning inevitably rule our lives. Peace is not achieved through any ideology, it does not depend on legislation; it comes only when we as individuals begin to understand our own psychological process. If we avoid the responsibility of acting individually and wait for some new system to establish peace, we shall merely become the slaves of that system. When governments, dictators, big business and the clerically powerful begin to see that this increasing antagonism between men only leads to indiscriminate destruction and is therefore no longer profitable, they may force us, through legislation and other means of compulsion, to suppress our personal cravings and ambitions and to co-operate for the well-being of mankind. just as we are now educated and encouraged to be competitive and ruthless, so then we shall be compelled to respect one another and to work for the world as a whole. And even though we may all be well fed, clothed and sheltered, we shall not be free of our conflicts and antagonisms, which will merely have shifted to another plane, where they will be still more diabolical and devastating. The only moral or righteous action is voluntary, and understanding alone can bring peace and happiness to man. Beliefs, ideologies and organized religions are setting us against our neighbours; there is conflict, not only among different societies, but among groups within the same society. We must realize that as long as we identify ourselves with a country, as long as we cling to security, as long as we are conditioned by dogmas, there will be strife and misery both within ourselves and in the world. Then there is the whole question of patriotism. When do we feel patriotic? It is obviously not an everyday emotion. But we are sedulously encouraged to be patriotic through school-books, through newspapers and other channels of propaganda, which stimulate racial egotism by praising national heroes and telling us that our own country and way of life are better than others. This patriotic spirit feeds our vanity from childhood to old age. The constantly repeated assertion that we belong to a certain political or religious group, that we are of this nation or of that, flatters our little egos, puffs them out like sails, until we are ready to kill or be killed for our country, race or ideology. It is all so stupid and unnatural. Surely, human beings are more important than national and ideological boundaries. The separative spirit of nationalism is spreading like fire all over the world. Patriotism is cultivated and cleverly exploited by those who are seeking further expansion, wider powers, greater enrichment; and each one of us takes part in this process, for we also desire these things. Conquering other lands and other people provides new markets for goods as well as for political and religious ideologies. One must look at all these expressions of violence and antagonism with an unprejudiced mind, that is, with a mind that does not identify itself with any country, race or ideology, but tries to find out what is true. There is great joy in seeing a thing clearly without being influenced by the notions and instructions of others, whether they be the government, the specialists or the very learned. Once we really see that patriotism is a hindrance to human happiness, we do not have to struggle against this false emotion in ourselves, it has gone from us forever. Nationalism, the patriotic spirit, class and race consciousness, are all ways of the self, and therefore separative. After all, what is a nation but a group of individuals living together for economic and self-protective reasons ? Out of fear and acquisitive self defence arises the idea of `my country," with its boundaries and tariff walls, rendering brotherhood and the unity of man impossible. The desire to gain and to hold, the longing to be identified with something greater than ourselves, creates the spirit of nationalism; and nationalism breeds war. In every country the government, encouraged by organized religion, is upholding nationalism and the separative spirit. Nationalism is a disease, and it can never bring about world unity. We can not attain health through disease, we must first free ourselves from the disease. It is because we are nationalists, ready to defend our sovereign States, our beliefs and acquisitions, that we must be perpetually armed. Property and ideas have become more important to us than human life, so there is constant antagonism and violence between ourselves and others. By maintaining the sovereignty of our country, we are destroying our sons; by worshipping the State, which is but a projection of ourselves, we are sacrificing our children to our own gratification. Nationalism and sovereign governments are the causes and the instruments of war. Our present social institutions cannot evolve into a world federation, for their very foundations are unsound. Parliaments and systems of education which uphold national sovereignty and emphasize the importance of the group will never bring war to an end. Every separate group of people, with its rulers and its ruled, is a source of war. As long as we do not fundamentally alter the present relationship between man and man, industry will inevitably lead to confusion and become an instrument of destruction and misery; as long as there is violence and tyranny, deceit and propaganda, the brotherhood of man cannot be realized. Merely to educate people to be wonderful engineers, brilliant scientists, capable executives, able workmen, will never bring the oppressors and the oppressed together; and we can see that our present system of education, which sustains the many causes that breed enmity and hatred between human beings, has not prevented mass murder in the name of one's country or in the name of God. Organized religions, with their temporal and spiritual authority, are equally incapable of bringing peace to man, for they also are the outcome of our ignorance and fear, of our make-believe and egotism. Craving security here or in the hereafter, we create institutions and ideologies which guarantee that security; but the more we struggle for security, the less we shall have it. The desire to be secure only fosters division and increases antagonism. If we deeply feel and understand the truth of this, not merely verbally or intellectually, but with our whole being, then we shall begin to alter fundamentally our relationship with our fellow men in the immediate world about us; and only then is there a possibility of achieving unity and brotherhood. Most of us are consumed by all sorts of fears, and are greatly concerned about our own security. We hope that, by some miracle, wars will come to an end, all the while accusing other national groups of being the instigators of war, as they in turn blame us for the disaster. Although war is so obviously detrimental to society, we prepare for war and develop in the young the military spirit. But has military training any place in education? It all depends on what kind of human beings we want our children to be. If we want them to be efficient killers, then military training is necessary. If we want to discipline them and regiment their minds, if our purpose is to make them nationalistic and therefore irresponsible to society as a whole, then military training is a good way to do it. If we like death and destruction, military training is obviously important. It is the function of generals to plan and carry on war; and if our intention is to have constant battle between ourselves and our neighbours, then by all means let us have more generals. If we are living only to have endless strife within ourselves and with others, if our desire is to perpetuate bloodshed and misery, then there must be more soldiers, more politicians, more enmity -which is what is actually happening. Modern civilization is based on violence, and is therefore courting death. As long as we worship force, violence will be our way of life. But if we want peace, if we want right relationship among men, whether Christian or Hindu, Russian or American, if we want our children to be integrated human beings, then military training is an absolute hindrance, it is the wrong way to set about it. One of the chief causes of hatred and strife is the belief that a particular class or race is superior to another. The child is neither class nor race conscious; it is the home or school environment, or both, which makes him feel separative. In himself he does not care whether his playmate is a Negro or a Jew, a Brahmin or a non-Brahmin; but the influence of the whole social structure is continually impinging on his mind, affecting and shaping it. Here again the problem is not with the child but with the adults, who have created a senseless environment of separatism and false values. What real basis is there for differentiating between human beings? Our bodies may be different in structure and colour, our faces may be dissimilar, but inside the skin we are very much alike: proud, ambitious, envious, violent, sexual, power-seeking and so on. Remove the label and we are very naked; but we do not want to face our nakedness, and so we insist on the label - which indicates how immature, how really infantile we are. To enable the child to grow up free from prejudice, one has first to break down all prejudice within oneself, and then in one's environment - which means breaking down the structure of this thoughtless society which we have created. At home we may tell the child how absurd it is to be conscious of one's class or race, and he will probably agree with us; but when he goes to school and plays with other children, he becomes contaminated by the separative spirit. Or it may be the other way around: the home may be traditional, narrow, and the school's influence may be broader. In either case there is a constant battle between the home and the school environments. and the child is caught between the two. To raise a child sanely, to help him to be perceptive so that he sees through these stupid prejudices, we have to be in close relationship with him. We have to talk things over and let him listen to intelligent conversation; we have to encourage the spirit of inquiry and discontent which is already in him, thereby helping him to discover for himself what is true and what is false. It is constant inquiry, true dissatisfaction, that brings creative intelligence; but to keep inquiry and discontent awake is extremely arduous, and most people do not want their children to have this kind of intelligence, for it is very uncomfortable to live with someone who is constantly questioning accepted values. All of us are discontented when we are young, but unfortunately our discontent soon fades away, smothered by our imitative tendencies and our worship of authority. As we grow older, we begin to crystallize, to be satisfied and apprehensive. We become executives, priests, bank clerks, factory managers, technicians, and slow decay sets in. Because we desire to maintain our positions, we support the destructive society,which has placed us there and given us some measure of security. Government control of education is a calamity. There is no hope of peace and order in the world as long as education is the handmaid of the state or of organized religion. Yet more and more governments are taking charge of the children and their future; and if it is not the government, then it is the religious organizations which seek to control education. This conditioning of the child's mind to fit a particular ideology, whether political or religious, breeds enmity between man and man. In a competitive society we cannot have brotherhood, and no reform, no dictatorship, no educational method can bring it about. As long as you remain a New Zealander and I a Hindu, it is absurd to talk about the unity of man. How can we get together as human beings if you in your country, and I in mine, retain our respective religious prejudices and eco- nomic ways? How can there be brotherhood as long as patriotism is separating man from man, and millions are restricted by depressed economic conditions while others are well off? How can there be human unity when beliefs divide us, when there is domination of one group by another, when the rich are powerful and the poor are seeking that same power, when there is maldistribution of land, when some are well fed and multitudes are starving? One of our difficulties is that we are not really in earnest about these matters, because we do not want to be greatly disturbed. We prefer to alter things only in a manner advantageous to ourselves, and so we are not deeply concerned about our own emptiness and cruelty. Can we ever attain peace through violence? Is peace to be achieved gradually, through a slow process of time? Surely, love is not a matter of training or of time. The last two wars were fought for democracy, I believe; and now we are preparing for a still greater and more destructive war, and people are less free. But what would happen if we were to put aside such obvious hindrances to understanding as authority, belief, nationalism and the whole hierarchical spirit? We would be people without authority, human beings in direct relationship with one another -and then, perhaps, there would be love and compassion. What is essential in education, as in every other field, is to have people who are understanding and affectionate, whose hearts are not filled with empty phrases, with the things of the mind. If life is meant to be lived happily, with thought, with ourselves; and if we wish to build a truly enlightened society, we must have educators who understand the ways of integration and who are therefore capable of imparting that understanding to the child. Such educators would be a danger to the present structure of society. But we do not really want to build an enlightened society; and any teacher who, perceiving the full implications of peace, began to point out the true significance of nationalism and the stupidity of war, would soon lose his position. Knowing this, most teachers compromise, and thereby help to maintain the present system of exploitation and violence. Surely, to discover truth, there must be freedom from strife, both within ourselves and with our neighbours. When we are not in conflict within ourselves, we are not in conflict outwardly. It is the inward strife which, projected outwardly, becomes the world conflict. War is the spectacular and bloody projection of our everyday living. We precipitate war out of our daily lives; and without a transformation in ourselves, there are bound to be national and racial antagonisms, the childish quarrelling over ideologies, the multiplication of soldiers, the saluting of flags, and all the many brutalities that go to create organized murder. Education throughout the world has failed, it has produced mounting destruction and misery. Governments are training the young to be the efficient soldiers and technicians they need; regimentation and prejudice are being cul- tivated and enforced. Taking these facts into consideration, we have to inquire into the meaning of existence and the significance and purpose of our lives. We have to discover the beneficent ways of creating a new environment; for environment can make the child a brute, an unfeeling specialist, or help him to become a sensitive, intelligent human being. We have to create a world government which is radically different, which is not based on nationalism, on ideologies, on force. All this implies the understanding of our responsibility to one another in relationship; but to understand our responsibility, there must be love in our hearts, not mere learning or knowledge. The greater our love, the deeper will be its influence on society. But we are all brains and no heart; we cultivate the intellect and despise humility. If we really loved our children, we would want to save and protect them, we would not let them be sacrificed in wars. I think we really want arms; we like the show of military power, the uniforms, the rituals, the drinks, the noise, the violence. Our everyday life is a reflection in miniature of this same brutal superficiality, and we are destroying one another through envy and thoughtlessness. We want to be rich; and the richer we get, the more ruthless we become, even though we may contribute large sums to charity and education. Having robbed the victim, we return to him a little of the spoils, and this we call philanthropy. I do not think we realize what catastrophes we are preparing. Most of us live each day as rapidly and thoughtlessly as possible, and leave to the governments, to the cunning politicians, the direction of our lives. All sovereign governments must prepare for war, and one's own government is no exception. To make its citizens efficient for war, to prepare them to perform their duties effectively, the government must obviously control and dominate them. They must be educated to act as machines, to be ruthlessly efficient. If the purpose and end of life is to destroy or be destroyed, then education must encourage ruthlessness; and I am not at all sure that that is not what we inwardly desire, for ruthlessness goes with the worship of success. The sovereign State does not want its citizens to be free, to think for themselves, and it controls them through propaganda, through distorted historical interpretations and so on. That is why education is becoming more and more a means of teaching what to think and not how to think. If we were to think independently of the prevailing political system, we would be dangerous; free institutions might turn out pacifists or people who think contrary to the existing regime. Right education is obviously a danger to sovereign governments - and so it is prevented by crude or subtle means. Education and food in the hands of the few have become the means of controlling man; and governments, whether of the left or of the right, are unconcerned as long as we are efficient machines for turning out merchandise and bullets. Now, the fact that this is happening the world over means that we who are the citizens and educators, and who are responsible for the existing governments, do not fundamen- tally care whether there is freedom or slavery, peace or war, well-being or misery for man. We want a little reform here and there, but most of us are afraid to tear down the present society and build a completely new structure, for this would require a radical transformation of ourselves. On the other hand, there are those who seek to bring about a violent revolution. Having helped to build the existing social order with all its conflicts, confusion and misery, they now desire to organize a perfect society. But can any of us organize a perfect society when it is we who have brought into being the present one? To believe that peace can be achieved through violence is to sacrifice the present for a future ideal; and this seeking of a right end through wrong means is one of the causes of the present disaster. The expansion and predominance of sensate values necessarily creates the poison of nationalism, of economic frontiers, sovereign governments and the patriotic spirit, all of which excludes man's cooperation with man and corrupts human relationship, which is society. Society is the relationship between you and another; and without deeply understanding this relationship, not at any one level, but integrally, as a total process, we are bound to create again the same kind of social structure, however superficially modified. If we are to change radically our present human relationship, which has brought untold misery to the world, our only and immediate task is to transform ourselves through self-knowledge. So we come back to the central point, which is oneself; but we dodge that point and shift the respon- sibility onto governments, religions and ideologies. The government is what we are, religions and ideologies are but a projection of ourselves; and until we change fundamentally there can be neither right education nor a peaceful world. Outward security for all can come only when there is love and intelligence; and since we have created a world of conflict and misery in which outward security is rapidly becoming impossible for anyone, does it not indicate the utter futility of past and present education? As parents and teachers it is our direct responsibility to break away from traditional thinking, and not merely rely on the experts and their findings. Efficiency in technique has given us a certain capacity to earn money, and that is why most of us are satisfied with the present social structure; but the true educator is concerned only with right living, right education, and right means of livelihood. The more irresponsible we are in these matters, the more the State takes over all responsibility. We are confronted, not with a political or economic crisis, but with a crisis of human deterioration which no political party or economic system can avert. Another and still greater disaster is approaching dangerously close, and most of us are doing nothing whatever about it. We go on day after day exactly as before; we do not want to strip away all our false values and begin anew. We want to do patchwork reform, which only leads to problems of still further reform. But the building is crumbling, the walls are giving way, and fire is destroying it. We must leave the building and start on new ground, with different foundations, different values. We cannot discard technical knowledge, but we can become inwardly aware of our ugliness, of our ruthlessness, of our deceptions and dishonesty, our utter lack of love. Only by intelligently freeing ourselves from the spirit of nationalism, from envy and the thirst for power, can a new social order be established. Peace is not to be achieved by patchwork reform, nor by a mere rearrangement of old ideas and superstitions. There can be peace only when we understand what lies beyond the superficial, and thereby stop this wave of destruction which has been unleashed by our own aggressiveness and fears; and only then will there be hope for our children and salvation for the world. EDUCATION AND THE SIGNIFICANCE OF LIFE CHAPTER 5 'THE SCHOOL' THE right kind of education is concerned with individual freedom, which alone can bring true cooperation with the whole, with the many; but this freedom is not achieved through the pursuit of one's own aggrandizement and success. Freedom comes with self-knowledge, when the mind goes above and beyond the hindrances it has created for itself through craving its own security. It is the function of education to help each individual to discover all these psychological hindrances, and not merely impose upon him new patterns of conduct, new modes of thought. Such impositions will never awaken intelligence, creative understanding, but will only further condition the individual. Surely, this is what is happening throughout the world, and that is why our problems continue and multiply. It is only when we begin to understand the deep significance of human life that there can be true education; but to understand, the mind must intelligently free itself from the desire for reward which breeds fear and conformity. If we regard our children as personal property, if to us they are the continuance of our petty selves and the fulfilment of our ambitions, then we shall build an environment, a social structure in which there is no love, but only the pursuit of self-centred advantages. A school which is successful in the worldly sense is more often than not a failure as an educational centre. A large and flourishing institution in which hundreds of children are educated together, with all its accompanying show and success, can turn out bank clerks and super-salesmen, industrialists or commissars, superficial people who are technically efficient; but there is hope only in the integrated individual, which only small schools can help to bring about. That is why it is far more important to have schools with a limited number of boys and girls and the right kind of educators, than to practise the latest and best methods in large institutions. Unfortunately, one of our confusing difficulties is that we think we must operate on a huge scale. Most of us want large schools with imposing buildings, even though they are obviously not the right kind of educational centres, because we want to transform or affect what we call the masses. But who are the masses? You and I. Let us not get lost in the thought that the masses must also be rightly educated. The consideration of the mass is a form of escape from immediate action. Right education will become universal if we begin with the immediate, if we are aware of ourselves in our relationship with our children, with our friends and neighbours. Our own action in the world we live in, in the world of our family and friends, will have expanding influence and effect. By being fully aware of ourselves in all our relationships we shall begin to discover those confusions and limitations within us of which we are now ignorant; and in being aware of them, we shall understand and so dissolve them. Without this awareness and the self-knowledge which it brings, any reform in education or in other fields will only lead to further antagonism and misery. In building enormous institutions and employing teachers who depend on a system instead of being alert and observant in their relationship with the individual student, we merely encourage the accumulation of facts, the development of capacity, and the habit of thinking mechanically, according to a pattern; but certainly none of this helps the student to grow into an integrated human being. Systems may have a limited use in the hands of alert and thoughtful educators, but they do not make for intelligence. Yet it is strange that words like "system," "institution," have become very important to us. Symbols have taken the place of reality, and we are content that it should be so; for reality is disturbing, while shadows give comfort. Nothing of fundamental value can be accomplished through mass instruction, but only through the careful study and understanding of the difficulties, tendencies and capacities of each child; and those who are aware of this, and who earnestly desire to understand themselves and help the young, should come together and start a school that will have vital significance in the child's life by helping him to be integrated and intelligent. To start such a school, they need not wait until they have the necessary means. One can be a true teacher at home, and opportunities will come to the earnest. Those who love their own children and the children about them, and who are therefore in earnest, will see to it that a right school is started somewhere around the corner, or in their own home.Then the money will come - it is the least important consideration. To maintain a small school of the right kind is of course financially difficult; it can flourish only on self-sacrifice, not on a fat bank account. Money invariably corrupts unless there is love and understanding. But if it is really a worthwhile school, the necessary help will be found. When there is love of the child, all things are possible. As long as the institution is the most important consideration, the child is not. The right kind of educator is concerned with the individual, and not with the number of pupils he has; and such an educator will discover that he can have a vital and significant school which some parents will support. But the teacher must have the flame of interest; if he is lukewarm, he will have an institution like any other. If parents really love their children, they will employ legislation and other means to establish small schools staffed with the right kind of educators; and they will not be deterred by the fact that small schools are expensive and the right kind of educators difficult to find. They should realize, however, that there will inevitably be opposition from vested interests, from governments and organized religions, because such schools are bound to be deeply revolutionary. True revolution is not the violent sort; it comes about through cultivating the integration and intelligence of human beings who, by their very life, will gradually create radical changes in society. But it is of the utmost importance that all the teachers in a school of this kind should come together voluntarily, without being persuaded or chosen; for voluntary freedom from worldliness is the only right foundation for a true educational centre. If the teachers are to help one another and the students to understand right values, there must be constant and alert awareness in their daily relationship. In the seclusion of a small school one is apt to forget that there is an outside world, with its everincreasing conflict, destruction and misery. That world is not separate from us. On the contrary, it is part of us, for we have made it what it is; and that is why, if there is to be a fundamental alteration in the structure of society, right education is the first step. Only right education, and not ideologies, leaders and economic revolutions, can provide a lasting solution for our problems and miseries; and to see the truth of this fact is not a matter of intellectual or emotional persuasion, nor of cunning argument. If the nucleus of the staff in a school of the right kind is dedicated and vital, it will gather to itself others of the same purpose, and those who are not interested will soon find themselves out of place. If the centre is purposive; and alert, the indifferent periphery will wither and drop away; but if the centre is indifferent, then the whole group will be uncertain and weak. The centre cannot be made up of the headmaster alone. Enthusiasm or interest that depends on one person is sure to wane and die. Such interest is superficial, flighty and worthless, for it can be diverted and made subservient to the whims and fancies of another. If the headmaster is dominating, then the spirit of freedom and co-operation obviously cannot exist. A strong character may build a first-rate school, but fear and subservience creep in, and then it generally happens that the rest of the staff is composed of nonentities. Such a group is not conducive to individual freedom and understanding. The staff should not be under the domination of the headmaster, and the headmaster should not assume all the responsibility; on the contrary, each teacher should feel responsible for the whole. If there are only a few who are interested, then the indifference or opposition of the rest will impede or stultify the general effort. One may doubt that a school can be run without a central authority; but one really does not know, because it has never been tried. Surely, in a group of true educators, this problem of authority will never arise. When all are endeavouring to be free and intelligent, cooperation with one another is possible at all levels. To those who have not given themselves over deeply and lastingly to the task of right education, the lack of a central authority may appear to be an impractical theory; but if one is completely dedicated to right education, then one does not require to be urged, directed or controlled. Intelligent teachers are pliable in the exercise of their capacities; attempting to be individually free, they abide by the regulations and do what is necessary for the benefit of the whole school. Serious interest is the beginning of capacity, and both are strengthened by application. If one does not understand the psychological implications of obedience, merely to decide not to follow authority will only lead to confusion. Such confusion is not due to the absence of authority, but to the lack of deep and mutual interest in right education. If there is real interest, there is constant and thoughtful adjustment on the part of every teacher to the demands and necessities of running a school. In any relationship, frictions and misunderstandings are inevitable; but they become exaggerated when there is not the binding affection of common interest. There must be unstinted co-operation among all the teachers in a school of the right kind. The whole staff should meet often, to talk over the various problems of the school; and when they have agreed upon a certain course of action, there should obviously be no difficulty in carrying out what has been decided. If some decision taken by the majority does not meet with the approval of a particular teacher, it can be discussed again at the next meeting of the faculty. No teacher should be afraid of the headmaster, nor should the headmaster feel intimidated by the older teachers. Happy agreement is possible only when there is a feeling of absolute equality among all. It is essential that this feeling of equality prevail in the right kind of school, for there can be real cooperation only when the sense of superiority and its opposite are non-existent. If there is mutual trust, any difficulty or misunderstanding will not just be brushed aside, but will be faced, and confidence restored. If the teachers are not sure of their own vocation and interest, there is bound to be envy and antagonism among them, and they will expend whatever energies they have over trifling details and wasteful bickerings; whereas, irritations and superficial disagreements will quickly be passed over if there is a burning interest in bringing about the right kind of education. Then the details which loom so large assume their normal proportions, friction and personal antagonisms are seen to be vain and destructive, and all talks and discussions help one to find out what is right and not who is right. Difficulties and misunderstandings should always be talked over by those who are working together with a common intention, for it helps to clarify any confusion that may exist in one's own thinking. When there is purposive interest, there is also frankness and comradeship among the teachers, and antagonism can never arise between them; but if that interest is lacking, though superficially they may co-operate for their mutual advantage, there will always be conflict and enmity. There may be, of course, other factors that are causing friction among the members of the staff. One teacher may be overworked, another may have personal or family worries, and perhaps still others do not feel deeply interested in what they are doing. Surely, all these problems can be thrashed out at the teachers' meeting, for mutual interest makes for cooperation. It is obvious that nothing vital can be created if a few do everything and the rest sit back. Equal distribution of work gives leisure to all, and each one must obviously have a certain amount of leisure. An overworked teacher becomes a problem to himself and to others. If one is under too great a strain, one is apt to become lethargic, indolent, and especially so if one is doing something which is not to one's liking. Recuperation is not possible if there is constant activity, physical or mental; but this question of leisure can be settled in a friendly manner acceptable to all. What constitutes leisure differs with each individual. To some who are greatly interested in their work, that work itself is leisure; the very action of interest, such as study, is a form of relaxation. To others, leisure may be a withdrawal into seclusion. If the educator is to have a certain amount of time to himself, he must be responsible only for the number of students that he can easily cope with. A direct and vital relationship between teacher and student is almost impossible when the teacher is weighed down by large and unmanageable numbers. This is still another reason why schools should be kept small. It is obviously important to have a very limited number of students in a class, so that the educator can give his full attention to each one. When the group is too large he cannot do this, and then punishment and reward become a convenient way of enforcing discipline. The right kind of education is not possible en masse. To study each child requires patience, alertness and intelligence. To observe the child's tendencies, his aptitudes, his temperament, to understand his difficulties, to take into account his heredity and parental influence and not merely regard him as belonging to a certain category - all this calls for a swift and pliable mind, untrammelled by any system or prejudice. It calls for skill, intense interest and, above all, a sense of affection; and to produce educators endowed with these qualities is one of our major problems today. The spirit of individual freedom and intelligence should pervade the whole school at all times. This can hardly be left to chance, and the casual mention at odd moments of the words"freedom" and "intelligence" has very little significance. It is particularly important that students and teachers meet regularly to discuss all matters relating to the well-being of the whole group. A student council should be formed, on which the teachers are represented, which can thrash out all the problems of discipline, cleanliness, food and so on, and which can also help to guide any students who may be somewhat self-indulgent, indifferent or obstinate. The students should choose from among themselves those who are to be responsible for the carrying out of decisions and for helping with the general supervision. After all, self-government in the school is a preparation for self-govern- ment in later life. If, while he is at school, the child learns to be considerate, impersonal and intelligent in any discussion pertaining to his daily problems, when he is older he will be able to meet effectively and dispassionately the greater and more complex trials of life. The school should encourage the children to understand one another's difficulties and peculiarities, moods and tempers; for then, as they grow up, they will be more thoughtful and patient in their relationship with others. This same spirit of freedom and intelligence should be evident also in the child's studies. If he is to be creative and not merely an automaton, the student should not be encouraged to accept formulas and conclusions. Even in the study of a science, one should reason with him, helping him to see the problem in its entirety and to use his own judgment. But what about guidance? Should there be no guidance whatsoever? The answer to this question depends on what is meant by `guidance.' If in their hearts the teachers have put away all fear and all desire for domination, then they can help the student towards creative understanding and freedom; but if there is a conscious or unconscious desire to guide him towards a particular goal, then obviously they are hindering his development. Guidance towards a particular objective, whether created by oneself or imposed by another, impairs creativeness. If the educator is concerned with the freedom of the individual, and not with his own preconceptions, he will help the child to discover that freedom by encouraging him to understand his own environment, his own temperament, his religious and family background, with all the influences and effects they can possibly have on him. If there is love and freedom in the hearts of the teachers themselves, they will approach each student mindful of his needs and difficulties; and then they will not be mere automatons, operating according to methods and formulas, but spontaneous human beings, ever alert and watchful. The right kind of education should also help the student to discover what he is most interested in. If he does not find his true vocation, all his life will seem wasted; he will feel frustrated doing something which he does not want to do. If he wants to be an artist and instead becomes a clerk in some office, he will spend his life grumbling and pining away. So it is important for each one to find out what he wants to do, and then to see if it is worth doing. A boy may want to be a soldier; but before he takes up soldiering, he should be helped to discover whether the military vocation is beneficial to the whole of mankind. Right education should help the student, not only to develop his capacities, but to understand his own highest interest. In a world torn by wars, destruction and misery, one must be able to build a new social order and bring about a different way of living. The responsibility for building a peaceful and enlightened society rests chiefly with the educator, and it is obvious, without becoming emotionally stirred up about it, that he has a very great opportunity to help in achieving that social transformation. The right kind of education does not depend on the regulations of any government or the methods of any particular system; it lies in our own hands, in the hands of the parents and the teachers. If parents really cared for their children, they would build a new society; but fundamentally most parents do not care, and so they have no time for this most urgent problem. They have time for making money, for amusements, for rituals and worship, but no time to consider what is the right kind of education for their children. This is a fact that the majority of people do not want to face. To face it might mean that they would have to give up their amusements and distractions, and certainly they are not willing to do that. So they send their children off to schools where the teacher cares no more for them than they do. Why should he care? Teaching is merely a job to him, a way of earning money. The world we have created is so superficial, so artificial, so ugly if one looks behind the curtain; and we decorate the curtain, hoping that everything will somehow come right. Most people are unfortunately not very earnest about life except, perhaps, when it comes to making money, gaining power, or pursuing sexual excitement. They do not want to face the other complexities of life, and that is why, when their children grow up, they are as immature and unintegrated as their parents, constantly battling with themselves and with the world. We say so easily that we love our children; but is there love in our hearts when we accept the existing social conditions, when we do not want to bring about a fundamental transformation in this destructive society? And as long as we look to the specialists to educate our children, this confusion and misery will continue; for the specialists, being concerned with the part and not with the whole, are themselves unintegrated. Instead of being the most honoured and responsible occupation, education is now considered slightingly, and most educators are fixed in a routine. They are not really concerned with integration and intelligence, but with the imparting of information; and a man who merely imparts information with the world crashing about him is not an educator. An educator is not merely a giver of information; he is one who points the way to wisdom, to truth. Truth is far more important than the teacher. The search for truth is religion, and truth is of no country, of no creed, it is not to be found in any temple, church or mosque. Without the search for truth, society soon decays. To create a new society, each one of us has to be a true teacher, which means that we have to be both the pupil and the master; we have to educate ourselves. If a new social order is to be established, those who teach merely to earn a salary can obviously have no place as teachers. To regard education as a means of livelihood is to exploit the children for one's own advantage. In an enlightened society, teachers will have no concern for their own welfare, and the community will provide for their needs. The true teacher is not he who has built up an impressive educational organization, nor he who is an instrument of the politicians, nor he who is bound to an ideal, a belief or a country. The true teacher is inwardly rich and therefore asks nothing for himself; he is not ambitious and seeks no power in any form; he does not use teaching as a means of acquiring position or authority, and therefore he is free from the compulsion of society and the control of governments. Such teachers have the primary place in an enlightened civilization, for true culture is founded, not on the engineers and technicians, but on the educators. EDUCATION AND THE SIGNIFICANCE OF LIFE CHAPTER 6 'PARENTS AND TEACHERS' THE right kind of education begins with the educator, who must understand himself and be free from established patterns of thought; for what he is, that he imparts. If he has not been rightly educated, what can he teach except the same mechanical knowledge on which he himself has been brought up? The problem, therefore, is not the child, but the parent and the teacher; the problem is to educate the educator. If we who are the educators do not understand ourselves, if we do not understand our relationship with the child but merely stuff him with information and make him pass examinations, how can we possibly bring about a new kind of education? The pupil is there to be guided and helped; but if the guide, the helper is himself confused and narrow, nationalistic and theory-ridden, then naturally his pupil will be what he is, and education becomes a source of further confusion and strife. If we see the truth of this, we will realize how impor- tant it is that we begin to educate ourselves rightly. To be concerned with our own re-education is far more necessary than to worry about the future well-being and security of the child. To educate the educator - that is, to have him understand himself - is one of the most difficult undertakings, because most of us are already crystallized within a system of thought or a pattern of action; we have already given ourselves over to some ideology, to a religion, or to a particular standard of conduct. That is why we teach the child what to think and not how to think. Moreover, parents and teachers are largely occupied with their own conflicts and sorrows. Rich or poor, most parents are absorbed in their personal worries and trials. They are not gravely concerned about the present social and moral deterioration, but only desire that their children shall be equipped to get on in the world. They are anxious about the future of their children, eager to have them educated to hold secure positions, or to marry well. Contrary to what is generally believed, most parents do not love their children, though they talk of loving them. If parents really loved their children, there would be no emphasis laid on the family and the nation as opposed to the whole, which creates social and racial divisions between men and brings about war and starvation. It is really extraordinary that, while people are rigorously trained to be lawyers or doctors, they may become parents without undergoing any training whatsoever to fit them for this all-important task. More often than not, the family, with its separate tend- encies, encourages the general process of isolation, thereby becoming a deteriorating factor in society. it is only when there is love ind understanding that the walls of isolation are broken down, and then the family is no longer a closed circle, it is neither a prison nor a refuge; then the parents are in communion, not only with their children, but also with their neighbours. Being absorbed in their own problems, many parents shift to the teacher the responsibility for the well-being of their children; and then it is important that the educator help in the education of the parents as well. He must talk to them, explaining that the confused state of the world mirrors their own individual confusion. He must point out that scientific progress in itself cannot bring about a radical change in existing values; that technical training, which is now called education, has not given man freedom or made him any happier; and that to condition the student to accept the present environment is not conducive to intelligence. He must tell them what he is attempting to do for their child, and how he is setting about it. He has to awaken the parents' confidence, not by assuming the authority of a specialist dealing with ignorant laymen, but by talking over with them the child's temperament, difficulties, aptitudes and so on. If the teacher takes a real interest in the child as an individual, the parents will have confidence in him. In this process, the teacher is educating the parents as well as himself, while learning from them in return. Right education is a mutual task demanding patience, consideration and af- fection. Enlightened teachers in an enlightened community could work out this problem of how to bring up children, and experiments along these lines should be made on a small scale by interested teachers and thoughtful parents. Do parents ever ask themselves why they have children? Do they have children to perpetuate their name, to carry on their property? Do they want children merely for the sake of their own delight, to satisfy their own emotional needs? If so, then the children become a mere projection of the desires and fears of their parents. Can parents claim to love their children when, by educating them wrongly, they foster envy, enmity and ambition? Is it love that stimulates the national and racial antagonisms which lead to war, destruction and utter misery, that sets man against man in the name of religions and ideologies? Many parents encourage the child in the ways of conflict and sorrow, not only by allowing him to be submitted to the wrong kind of education, but by the manner in which they conduct their own lives; and then, when the child grows up and suffers, they pray for him or find excuses for his behaviour. The suffering of parents for their children is a form of possessive self-pity which exists only when there is no love. If parents love their children, they will not be nationalistic, they will not identify themselves with any country; for the worship of the State brings on war, which kills or maims their sons. If parents love their children, they will discover what is right relationship to property; for the possessive in- stinct has given property an enormous and false significance which is destroying the world. If parents love their children, they will not belong to any organized religion; for dogma and belief divide people into conflicting groups, creating antagonism between man and man. If parents love their children, they will do away with envy and strife, and will set about altering fundamentally the structure of present-day society. As long as we want our children to be powerful, to have bigger and better positions, to become more and more successful, there is no love in our hearts; for the worship of success encourages conflict and misery. To love one's children is to be in complete communion with them; it is to see that they have the kind of education that will help them to be sensitive, intelligent and integrated. The first thing a teacher must ask himself, when he decides that he wants to teach, is what exactly he means by teaching. Is he going to teach the usual subjects in the habitual way? Does he want to condition the child to become a cog in the social machine, or help him to be an integrated, creative human being, a threat to false values? And if the educator is to help the student to examine and understand the values and influences that surround him and of which he is a part, must he not be aware of them himself? If one is blind, can one help others to cross to the other shore? Surely, the teacher himself must first begin to see. He must be constantly alert, intensely aware of his own thoughts and feelings, aware of the ways in which he is conditioned, aware of his activities and his responses; for out of this watchfulness comes intelligence, and with it a radical transformation in his relationship to people and to things. Intelligence has nothing to do with the passing of examinations. Intelligence is the spontaneous perception which makes a man strong and free. To awaken intelligence in a child, we must begin to understand for ourselves what intelligence is; for how can we ask a child to be intelligent if we ourselves remain unintelligent in so many ways? The problem is not only the student's difficulties, but also our own: the cumulative fears, unhappiness and frustrations of which we are not free. In order to help the child to be intelligent, we have to break down within ourselves those hindrances which make us dull and thoughtless. How can we teach children not to seek personal security if we ourselves are pursuing it? What hope is there for the child if we who are parents and teachers are not entirely vulnerable to life, if we erect protective walls around ourselves? To discover the true significance of this struggle for security, which is causing such chaos in the world, we must begin to awaken our own intelligence by being aware of our psychological processes; we must begin to question all the values which now enclose us. We should not continue to fit thoughtlessly into the pattern in which we happen to have been brought up. How can there ever be harmony in the individual and so in society if we do not understand ourselves? Unless the educator understands himself, unless he sees his own condi- tioned responses and is beginning to free himself from existing values, how can he possibly awaken intelligence in the child? And if he cannot awaken intelligence in the child, then what is his function? It is only by understanding the ways of our own thought and feeling that we can truly help the child to be a free human being; and if the educator is vitally concerned with this, he will be keenly aware, not only of the child, but also of himself. Very few of us observe our own thoughts and feelings. If they are obviously ugly, we do not understand their full significance, but merely try to check them or push them aside. We are not deeply aware of ourselves; our thoughts and feelings are stereotyped, automatic. We learn a few subjects, gather some information, and then try to pass it on to the children. But if we are vitally interested, we shall not only try to find out what experiments are being made in education in different parts of the world, but we shall want to be very clear about our own approach to this whole question; we shall ask ourselves why and to what purpose we are educating the children and ourselves; we shall inquire into the meaning of existence, into the relationship of the individual to society, and so on. Surely, educators must be aware of these problems and try to help the child to discover the truth concerning them, without projecting upon him their own idiosyncrasies and habits of thought. Merely to follow a system, whether political or educational, will never solve our many social problems; and it is far more important to understand the manner of our approach to any problem, than to understand the problem itself. If children are to be free from fear - whether of their parents, of their environment, or of God - the educator himself must have no fear. But that is the difficulty: to find teachers who are not themselves the prey of some kind of fear. Fear narrows down thought and limits initiative, and a teacher who is fearful obviously cannot convey the deep significance of being without fear. Like goodness, fear is contagious. If the educator himself is secretly afraid, he will pass that fear on to his students, although its contamination may not be immediately seen. Suppose, for example, that a teacher is afraid of public opinion; he sees the absurdity of his fear, and yet cannot go beyond it. What is he to do? He can at least acknowledge it to himself, and can help his students to understand fear by bringing out his own psychological reaction and openly talking it over with them. This honest and sincere approach will greatly encourage the students to be equally open and direct with themselves and with the teacher. To give freedom to the child, the educator himself must be aware of the implications and the full significance of freedom. Example and compulsion in any form do not help to bring about freedom, and it is only in freedom that there can be self-discovery and insight. The child is influenced by the people and the things about him, and the right kind of educator should help him to uncover these influences and their true worth. Right values are not discovered through the authority of society or tradition; only individual thoughtfulness can reveal them. If one understands this deeply, one will encourage the student from the very beginning to awaken insight into present-day individual and social values. One will encourage him to seek out, not any particular set of values, but the true value of all things. One will help him to be fearless, which is to be free of all domination, whether by the teacher, the family or society, so that as an individual he can flower in love and goodness. In thus helping the student towards freedom, the educator is changing his own values also; he too is beginning to be rid of the `'me" and the"mine," he too is flowering in love and goodness. This process of mutual education creates an altogether different relationship between the teacher and the student. Domination or compulsion of any kind is a direct hindrance to freedom and intelligence. The right kind of educator has no authority, no power in society; he is beyond the edicts and sanctions of society. If we are to help the student to be free from his hindrances, which have been created by himself and by his environment, then every form of compulsion and domination must be understood and put aside; and this cannot be done if the educator is not also freeing himself from all crippling authority. To follow another, however great, prevents the discovery of the ways of the self; to run after the promise of some ready-made Utopia makes the mind utterly unaware of the enclosing action of its own desire for comfort, for authority, for someone else's help. The priest, the politician, the lawyer, the soldier, are all there to "help" us; but such help destroys intelligence and freedom. The help we need does not lie outside ourselves. We do not have to beg for help; it comes without our seeking it when we are humble in our dedicated work, when we are open to the understanding of our daily trials and accidents. We must avoid the conscious or unconscious craving for support and encouragement, for such craving creates its own response, which is always gratifying. It is comforting to have someone to encourage us, to give us a lead, to pacify us; but this habit of turning to another as a guide, as an authority, soon becomes a poison in our system. The moment we depend on another for guidance, we forget our original intention, which was to awaken individual freedom and intelligence. All authority is a hindrance, and it is essential that the educator should not become an authority for the student. The building up of authority is both a conscious and an unconscious process. The student is uncertain, groping, but the teacher is sure in his knowledge, strong in his experience. The strength and certainty of the teacher give assurance to the student, who tends to bask in that sunlight; but such assurance is neither lasting nor true. A teacher who consciously or un consciously encourages dependence can never be of great help to his students. He may overwhelm them with his knowledge, dazzle them with his personality, but he is not the right kind of educator because his knowledge and experiences are his addiction, his security, his prison; and until he himself is free of them, he cannot help his students to be integrated human beings. To be the right kind of educator, a teacher must constantly be freeing himself from books and laboratories; he must ever be watchful to see that the students do not make of him an example, an ideal, an authority. When the teacher desires to fulfil himself in his students, when their success is his, then his teaching is a form of self-continuation, which is detrimental to self-knowledge and freedom. The right kind of educator must be aware of all these hindrances in order to help his students to be free, not only from his authority, but from their own self-enclosing pursuits. Unfortunately, when it comes to understanding a problem, most teachers do not treat the student as an equal partner; from their superior position, they give instructions to the pupil, who is far below them. Such a relationship only strengthens fear in both the teacher and the student. What creates this unequal relationship? Is it that the teacher is afraid of being found out? Does he keep a dignified distance to guard his susceptibilities, hide importance? Such superior aloofness in no way helps to break down the barriers that separate individuals. After all, the educator and his pupil are helping each other to educate themselves. All relationship should be a mutual education;and as the protective isolation afforded by knowledge, by achievement, by ambition, only breeds envy and antagonism, the right kind of educator must transcend these walls with which he surrounds himself. Because he is devoted solely to the freedom and integra- tion of the individual, the right kind of educator is deeply and truly religious. He does not belong to any sect, to any organized religion; he is free of beliefs and rituals, for he knows that they are only illusions, fancies, superstitions projected by the desires of those who create them. He knows that reality or God comes into being only when there is self-knowledge ind therefore freedom. People who have no academic degrees often make the best teachers because they are willing to experiment; not being specialists, they are interested in learning, in understanding life. For the true teacher, teaching is not a technique, it is his way of life; like a great artist, he would rather starve than give up his creative work. Unless one has this burning desire to teach, one should not be a teacher. It is of the utmost importance that one discover for oneself whether one his this gift, and not merely drift into teaching because it is a means of livelihood. As long as teaching is only a profession, a means of livelihood, and not a dedicated vocation, there is bound to be a wide gap between the world and ourselves: our home life and our work remain separate and distinct. As long as education is only a job like any other, conflict and enmity among individuals and among the various class levels of society are inevitable; there will be increasing competition, the ruthless pursuit of personal ambition, and the building up of the national and racial divisions which create antagonism and endless wars. But if we have dedicated ourselves to be the right kind of educators, we do not create barriers between our home life and the life at school, for we are everywhere concerned with freedom and intelligence. We consider equally the children of the rich and of the poor, regarding each child as an individual with his particular temperament, heredity, ambitions, and so on. We are concerned, not with a class, not with the powerful or the weak, but with the freedom and integration of the individual. Dedication to the right kind of education must be wholly voluntary. It should not be the result of any kind of persuasion, or of any hope of personal gain; and it must be devoid of the fears that arise from the craving for success and achievement. The identification of oneself with the success or failure of a school is still within the field of personal motive. If to teach is one's vocation, if one looks upon the right kind of education as a vital need for the individual, then one will not allow oneself to be hindered or in any way sidetracked either by one's own ambitions or by those of another; one will find time and opportunity for this work, and will set about it without seeking reward, honour or fame. Then all other things - family, personal security, comfort - become of secondary importance. If we are in earnest about being the right kind of teachers, we shall be thoroughly dissatisfied, not with a particular system of education, but with all systems, because we see that no educational method can free the individual. A method or a system may condition him to a different set of values, but it cannot make him free. One has to be very watchful also not to fall into one's own particular system, which the mind is ever building. To have a pattern of conduct, of action, is a convenient and safe procedure, and that is why the mind takes shelter within its formations. To be constantly alert is bothersome and exacting, but to develop and follow a method does not demand thought. Repetition and habit encourage the mind to be sluggish; a shock is needed to awaken it, which we then call a problem. We try to solve this problem according to our well-worn explanations, justifications and condemnations, all of which puts the mind back to sleep again. In this form of sluggishness the mind is constantly being caught, and the right kind of educator not only puts an end to it within himself, but also helps his students to be aware of it. Some may ask,"How does one become the right kind of educator?" Surely, to ask "How" indicates, not a free mind, but a mind that is timorous, that is seeking an advantage, a result. The hope and the effort to become something only makes the mind conform to the desired end, while a free mind is constantly watching, learning, and therefore breaking through its self-projected hindrances. Freedom is at the beginning, it is not something to be gained at the end. The moment one asks "How," one is confronted with insurmountable difficulties, and the teacher who is eager to dedicate his life to education will never ask this question, for he knows that there is no method by which one can become the right kind of educator. If one is vitally interested, one does not ask for a method that will assure one of the desired result. Can any system make us intelligent? We may go through the kind of a system, acquire degrees, and so on; but will we then be educators, or merely the personifications of a system? To seek reward, to want to be called an outstanding educator, is to crave recognition and praise; and while it is sometimes agreeable to be appreciated and encouraged, if one depends upon it for one's sustained interest, it becomes a drug of which one soon wearies. To expect appreciation and encouragement is quite immature. If anything new is to be created, there must be alertness and energy, not bickerings and wrangles. If one feels frustrated in one's work, then boredom and weariness generally follow. If one is not interested, one should obviously not go on teaching. But why is there so often a lack of vital interest among teachers? What causes one do feel frustrated? Frustration is not the result of being forced by circumstances to do this or that; it arises when we do not know for ourselves what it is that we really want to do. Being confused, we get pushed around, and finally land in something which has no appeal for us at all. If teaching is our true vocation, we may feel temporarily frustrated because we have not seen a way out of this present educational confusion; but the moment we see and understand the implications of the right kind of education, we shall have again all the necessary drive and enthusiasm. It is not a matter of will or resolution, but of perception and understanding. If teaching is one's vocation, and if one perceives the grave importance of the right kind of education, one cannot help but be the right kind of educator. There is no need to follow any method. The very fact of understanding that the right kind of education is indispensable if we are to achieve the freedom and integration of the individual, brings about a fundamental change in oneself. If one becomes aware that there can be peace and happiness for man only through right education, then one will naturally give one's whole life and interest to it. One teaches because one wants the child to be rich inwardly, which will result in his giving right value to possessions. Without inner richness, worldly things become extravagantly important, leading to various forms of destruction and misery. One teaches to encourage the student to find his true vocation, and to avoid those occupations that foster antagonism between man and man. One teaches to help the young towards self-knowledge, without which there can be no peace, no lasting happiness. One's teaching is not self-fulfilment, but self-abnegation. Without the right kind of teaching, illusion is taken for reality, and then the individual is ever in conflict within himself, and therefore there is conflict in his relationship with others, which is society. One teaches because one sees that self-knowledge alone, and not the dogmas and rituals of organized religion, can bring about a tranquil mind; and that creation, truth, God, comes into being only when the "me" and the "mine" are transcended. EDUCATION AND THE SIGNIFICANCE OF LIFE CHAPTER 7 'SEX AND MARRIAGE' LIKE other human problems, the problem of our passions and sexual urges is a complex and difficult one, and if the educator himself has not deeply probed into it and seen its many implications, how can he help those he is educating? If the parent or the teacher is himself caught up in the turmoils of sex, how can he guide the child? Can we help the children if we ourselves do not understand the significance of this whole problem? The manner in which the educator imparts an understanding of sex depends on the state of his own mind; it depends on whether he is gently dispassionate, or consumed by his own desires. Now, why is sex to most of us a problem, full of confusion and conflict? Why has it become a dominant factor in our lives? One of the main reasons is that we are not creative; and we are not creative because our whole social and moral culture, as well as our educational methods, are based on development of the intellect. The solution to this problem of sex lies in understanding that creation does not occur through the functioning of the intellect. On the contrary, there is creation only when the intellect is still. The intellect, the mind as such, can only repeat, recollect, it is constantly spinning new words and rearranging old ones; and as most of us feel and experience only through the brain, we live exclusively on words and mechanical repetitions. This is obviously not creation; and since we are uncreative, the only means of creativeness left to us is sex. Sex is of the mind, and that which is of the mind must fulfil itself or there is frustration. Our thoughts, our lives are bright, arid, hollow, empty; emotionally we are starved, religiously and intellectually we are repetitive, dull; socially, politically and economically we are regimented, controlled. We are not happy people, we are not vital, joyous; at home, in business, at church, at school, we never experience a creative state of being, there is no deep release in our daily thought and action. Caught and held from all sides, naturally sex becomes our only outlet, an experience to be sought again and again because it momentarily offers that state of happiness which comes when there is absence of self. It is not sex that constitutes a problem, but the desire to recapture the state of happiness, to gain and maintain pleasure, whether sexual or any other. What we are really searching for is this intense passion of self-forgetfulness, this identification with something in which we can lose ourselves completely. Because the self is small, petty and a source of pain, consciously or unconsciously we want to lose ourselves in individual or collective excitement, in lofty thoughts, or in some gross form of sensation. When we seek to escape from the self, the means of escape are very important, and then they also become painful problems to us. Unless we investigate and understand the hindrances that prevent creative living, which is freedom from self, we shall not understand the problem of sex. One of the hindrances to creative living is fear, and respectability is a manifestation of that fear. The respectable, the morally bound, are not aware of the full and deep significance of life. They are enclosed between the walls of their own righteousness and cannot see beyond them. Their stained-glass morality, based on ideals and religious beliefs, has nothing to do with reality; and when they take shelter behind it, they are living in the world of their own illusions. In spite of their self-imposed and gratifying morality, the respectable also are in confusion, misery and conflict. Fear, which is the result of our desire to be secure, makes us conform, imitate and submit to domination, and therefore it prevents creative living. To live creatively is to live in freedom, which is to be without fear; and there can be a state of creativeness only when the mind is not caught up in desire and the gratification of desire. It is only by watching our own hearts and minds with delicate attention that we can unravel the hidden ways of our desire. The more thoughtful and affectionate we are, the less desire dominates the mind. It is only when there is no love that sensation becomes a consuming problem. To understand this problem of sensation, we shall have to approach it, not from any one direction, but from every side, the educational, the religious, the social and the moral. Sensations have become almost exclusively important to us because we lay such overwhelming emphasis on sensate values. Through books, through advertisements, through the cinema, and in many other ways, various aspects of sensation are constantly being stressed. The political and religious pageants, the theatre and other forms of amusement, all encourage us to seek stimulation at different levels of our being; and we delight in this encouragement. Sensuality is being developed in every possible way, and at the same time, the ideal of chastity is upheld. A contradiction is thus built up within us; and strangely enough, this very contradiction is stimulating. It is only when we understand the pursuit of sensation, which is one of the major activities of the mind, that pleasure, excitement and violence cease to be a dominant feature in our lives. It is because we do not love, that sex, the pursuit of sensation, has become a consuming problem. When there is love, there is chastity; but he who tries to be chaste, is not. Virtue comes with freedom, it comes when there is an understanding of what is. When we are young, we have strong sexual urges, and most of us try to deal with these desires by controlling and disciplining them, because we think that without some kind of restraint we shall become consumingly lustful. Organized religions are much concerned about our sexual morality; but they allow us to perpetrate violence and murder in the name of patriotism, to indulge in envy and crafty ruthlessness, and to pursue power and success. Why should they be so concerned with this particular type of morality, and not attack exploitation, greed and war? Is it not because organized religions, being part of the environment which we have created, depend for their very existence on our fears and hopes, on our envy and separatism? So, in the religious field as in every other, the mind is held in the projections of its own desires. As long as there is no deep understanding of the whole process of desire, the institution of marriage as it now exists, whether in the East or in the West, cannot provide the answer to the sexual problem. Love is not induced by the signing of a contract, nor is it based on an exchange of gratification, nor on mutual security and comfort. All these things are of the mind, and that is why love occupies so small a place in our lives. Love is not of the mind, it is wholly independent of thought with its cunning calculations, its self-protective demands and reactions. When there is love, sex is never a problem - it is the lack of love that creates the problem. The hindrances and escapes of the mind constitute the problem, and not sex or any other specific issue; and that is why it is important to understand the mind's process, its attractions and repulsions, its responses to beauty, to ugliness. We should observe ourselves, become aware of how we regard people, how we look at men and women. We should see that the family becomes a centre of separatism and of antisocial activities when it is used as a means of self-perpetuation, for the sake of one's self-importance. Family and property, when centred on the self with its ever-narrowing desires and pursuits, become the instruments of power and domination, a source of conflict between the individual and society. The difficulty in all these human questions is that we ourselves, the parents and teachers, have become so utterly weary and hopeless, altogether confused and without peace; life weighs heavily upon us, and we want to be comforted, we want to be loved. Being poor and insufficient within ourselves, how can we hope to give the right kind of education to the child? That is why the major problem is not the pupil, but the educator; our own hearts and minds must be cleansed if we are to be capable of educating others. If the educator himself is confused, crooked, lost in a maze of his own desires, how can he impart wisdom or help to make straight the way of another? But we are not machines to be understood and repaired by experts; we are the result of a long series of influences and accidents, and each one has to unravel and understand for himself the confusion of his own nature. EDUCATION AND THE SIGNIFICANCE OF LIFE CHAPTER 8 'ART, BEAUTY AND CREATION' MOST of us are constantly trying to escape from ourselves; and as art offers a respectable and easy means of doing so, it plays a significant part in the lives of many people. In the desire for self-forgetfulness, some turn to art, others take to drink, while still others follow mysterious and fanciful religious doctrines. When, consciously or unconsciously, we use something to escape from ourselves, we become addicted to it. To depend on a person, a poem, or what you will, as a means of release from our worries and anxieties, though momentarily enriching, only creates further conflict and contradiction in our lives. The state of creativeness cannot exist where there is conflict, and the right kind of education should therefore help the individual to face his problems and not glorify the ways of escape; it should help him to understand and eliminate conflict, for only then can this state of creativeness come into being. Art divorced from life has no great significance. When art is separate from our daily living, when there is a gap between our instinctual life and our efforts on canvas, in marble or in words, then art becomes merely an expression of our superficial desire to escape from the reality of what is. To bridge this gap is very arduous, especially for those who are gifted and technically proficient; but it is only when the gap is bridged that our life becomes integrated and art an integra expression of ourselves. Mind has the power to create illusion; and without understanding its ways, to seek inspiration is to invite self-deception. Inspiration comes when we are open to it, not when we are courting it. To attempt to gain inspiration through any form of stimulation leads to all kinds of delusions. Unless one is aware of the significance of existence, capacity or gift gives emphasis and importance to the self and its cravings. it tends to make the individual self-centred and separative; he feels himself to be an entity apart, a superior being, all of which breeds many evils and causes ceaseless strife and pain. The self is a bundle of many entities, each opposed to the others. It is a battlefield of conflicting desires, a centre of constant struggle between the"mine" and the"not-mine; and as long as we give importance to the self, to the "me" and the"mine," there will be increasing conflict within ourselves and in the world. A true artist is beyond the vanity of the self and its ambitions. To have the power of brilliant expression, and yet be caught in worldly ways, makes for a life of contradiction and strife. Praise and adulation, when taken to heart, inflate the ego and destroy receptivity, and the worship of success in any field is obviously detrimental to intelligence. Any tendency or talent which makes for isolation, any form of self-identification, however stimulating, distorts the expression of sensitivity and brings about insensitivity. Sensitivity is dulled when gift becomes personal, when importance is given to the "me" and the "mine" - I paint, I write, I invent. It is only when we are aware of every movement of our own thought and feeling in our relationship with people, with things and with nature, that the mind is open, pliable, not tethered to self-protective demands and pursuits; and only then is there sensitivity to the ugly and the beautiful, unhindered by the self. Sensitivity to beauty and to ugliness does not come about through attachment; it comes with love, when there are no self-created conflicts. When we are inwardly poor, we indulge in every form of outward show, in wealth, power and possessions. When our hearts are empty, we collect things. If we can afford it, we surround ourselves with objects that we consider beautiful, and because we attach enormous importance to them, we are responsible for much misery and destruction. The acquisitive spirit is not the love of beauty; it arises from the desire for security, and to be secure is to be insensitive. The desire to be secure creates fear; it sets going a process of isolation which builds walls of resistance around us, and these walls prevent all sensitivity. However beautiful an object may be, it soon loses its appeal for us; we dull. Beauty is still there, but we are no longer open to it, and it has been absorbed into our monotonous daily existence. Since our hearts are withered and we have forgotten how to be kindly, how to look at the stars, at the trees, at the reflections on the water, we require the stimulation of pictures and jewels, of books and endless amusements. We are constantly seeking new excitements, new thrills, we crave an everincreasing variety of sensations. Art is this craving and its satisfaction that make the mind and heart weary and dull. As long as we are seeking sensation, the things that we call beautiful and ugly have but a very superficial significance. There is lasting joy only when we are capable of approaching all things afresh - which is not possible as long as we are bound up in our desires. The craving for sensation and gratification prevents the experiencing of that which is always new. Sensations can be bought, but not the love of beauty. When we are aware of the emptiness of our own minds and hearts without running away from it into any kind of stimulation or sensation, when we are completely open, highly sensitive, only then can there be creation, only then shall we find creative joy. To cultivate the outer without understanding the inner must inevitably build up those values which lead men to destruction and sorrow. Learning a technique may provide us with a job, but it will not make us creative; whereas, if there is joy, if there is the creative fire, it will find a way to express itself, one need not study a method of expression. When one really wants to write a poem, one writes it, and if one has the technique, so much the better; but why stress what is but a means of communication if one has nothing to say? When there is love in our hearts, we do not search for a way of putting words together. Great artists and great writers may be creators, but we are not, we are mere spectators. We read vast numbers of books, listen to magnificent music, look at works of art, but we never directly experience the sublime; our experience is always through a poem, through a picture, through the personality of a saint. To sing we must have a song in our hearts; but having lost the song, we pursue the singer. Without an intermediary we feel lost; but we must be lost before we can discover anything. Discovery is the beginning of creativeness; and without creativeness, do what we may, there can be no peace or happiness for man. We think that we shall be able to live happily, creatively, if we learn a method, a technique, a style; but creative happiness comes only when there is inward richness, it can never be attained through any system. Self-improvement, which is another way of assuring the security of the "me" and the"mine," is not creative, nor is it love of beauty. Creativeness comes into being when there is constant awareness of the ways of the mind, and of the hindrances it has built for itself. The freedom to create comes with self-knowledge; but self-knowledge is not a gift. One can be creative without having any particular talent. Creativeness is a state of being in which the conflicts and sorrows of the self are absent, a state in which the mind is not caught up in the demands and pursuits of desire. To be creative is not merely to produce poems, or statues, or children; it is to be in that state in which truth can come into being. Truth comes into being when there is a complete cessation of thought; and thought ceases only when the self is absent, when the mind has ceased to create, that is, when it is no longer caught in its own pursuits. When the mind is utterly still without being forced or trained into quiescence, when it is silent because the self is inactive, then there is creation. The love of beauty may express itself in a song, in a smile, or in silence; but most of us have no inclination to be silent. We have not the time to observe the birds, the passing clouds, because we are too busy with our pursuits and pleasures. When there is no beauty in our hearts, how can we help the children to be alert and sensitive? We try to be sensitive to beauty while avoiding the ugly; but avoidance of the ugly makes for insensitivity. If we would develop sensitivity in the young, we ourselves must be sensitive to beauty and to ugliness, and must take every opportunity to awaken in them the joy there is in seeing, not only the beauty that man has created, but also the beauty of nature. Madras 1952 - 1st Public Talk 2nd Public Talk 3rd Public Talk 4th Public Talk 5th Public Talk 6th Public Talk 7th Public Talk 8th Public Talk 9th Public Talk 10th Public Talk 11th Public Talk 12th Public Talk London 1952 - 1st Public Talk 2nd Public Talk 3rd Public Talk 4th Public Talk 5th Public Talk 6th Public Talk MADRAS 1ST PUBLIC TALK 5TH JANUARY 1952 I have to make one or two announcements. These meetings on every Saturday and Sunday will go on till the 10th of February and there will be discussions every Wednesday at 5:30 p.m., the same time as usual. I think most of us are aware of the extraordinarily complex and vast problems that surround each one of us. There is so much contradiction among the experts - political, social and religious. There are those who assert constantly that only a certain system must be valid. Religiously, there is a contradiction of belief. It seems to me that if you want to solve any of these problems you must all think anew and not rely on any one source, on any authority; and that seems most extraordinarily difficult for most of us. Either we turn to the past as a source of information or for purposes of imitation, or rely on some future promise - economic, political or religious. Either we turn back to the past as a means of solace by asserting that religious conformity is essential, or we rely on the economic authority of revolution and future promise of the ideal state. Until we very carefully and intelligently think out the problems for ourselves, I do not think there is any way of dissolving any of these confusing and contradictory problems. What I propose to do during these discussions is to think out with each one of you this extraordinarily complex problem of living. You know this problem is not confined to a narrow area. All over the world it is the same. We are confused; we do not know what to do; and we do not know how to set about it or to discover why each group is fighting the other. Ambition, corruption in the name of peace and other ideals are rampant throughout the world, not only parochially but all-extensively. Now if we want to really solve this problem, we have to think it out ourselves. We have to find the right answer. I believe there is an answer and I am completely convinced there is an answer. But the mere discovery of the answer is not a solution. So what you and I have to do is to find out, which means, you and I have to listen to each other to find out the right answer. Listening is an extraordinarily difficult art. That is because most of us are incapable of listening, because we have so much knowledge, so much information; we have read so much; our prejudices are so strong; our experiences are like the walls that surround us; and through these prejudices, looking over these walls, we try to listen. Can we listen to anything if our mind, at least temporarily, is not free of the prejudices, and is not always referring to some knowledge which we have all translated and interpreted? That is one of the greatest difficulties. Is it not? Though we appear to be incapable of listening, it seems to me that it is one of the most necessary and essential things that we have to do, you and I have to do. You should not translate what I am saying, or interpret what I am saying, or understand it according to your background; because when you do that, you stop all thinking. Don't you? If you say `that conforms to my understanding', you have stopped thinking, you have stopped listening; you do not open the door to see greater visions, greater depths of those words. To listen without interpretation requires extraordinary alertness of mind. Please try during these discussions and at home to really listen to each other without interpretation, just to listen without translating according to your prejudices. After all, translations mean that you have previous knowledge which confines thought, prevents it from penetrating further and deeper. So it is essential that you and I should establish the right kind of relationship. I do not believe in authority of any kind; and if you treat what I am saying as authoritarian, then you stop listening. You will have to investigate and try to find out what is the answer, the right answer, what is the way out of this appalling mess of war and peace, of this contradiction between the rich and the poor, between those who are seeking authority in the name of every form of violence and peace. If we do not seek and understand the right answer, I think we have no business or responsibility of sitting and listening to each other and wasting our time. I feel very ardently that if we, even two or three of us, could sit down and go into this thoroughly, setting aside every thing to find out, then there is a possibility of starting on a little scale till it becomes a roaring storm; but that requires earnestness, that requires real exchange of thought and not mere assertion of prejudice and constancy of a particular experience. So, how is it possible to find out the right answer? I am sure that is what most of us are trying to find out. Are we not? Any thoughtful person must be seeking the right solution, the lasting and permanent solution to all this appalling suffering, misery, this contradiction between the rich and the poor, between those who are seeking authority in the name of peace, between the powerful and the downtrodden, between those who have nothing and those who have everything, between those who are seeking power. Surely, there must be an answer to all this, must there not be? How are we going to find it out? Surely, the first essential requirement to understand or to search out the answer must be the under standing that all search is conditioned by desire. Let us think about it for a while. If I seek an economic or other answer to this problem, without understanding the instrument that seeks, that very instrument is limited, confined, conditioned by the desire that is out seeking. If I am seeking the right answer, the right solution to any problem, is not the search conditioned by my desire? So before I can seek an answer, I must understand desire. Is that not so? If I want to know if there is God, if there is such a thing as Absolute Happiness, surely, before I can seek it, I must understand the mind that seeks it. Otherwise, the mind will condition the object of my search That is fairly obvious. Is it not? Those who seek anything, will find what they seek; but what they find, will depend on their desire. If you seek comfort and security, you will find them; but that will not be real; on the contrary, that will produce more and more confusion, contradiction and misery. So, before we begin to seek, we must understand the whole process of desire. In the very search of understanding desire, you will find the answer. But to seek the answer without understanding desire, the centre of recognition, is futile. Those who are really earnest, those who really want to see a peaceful world, to have peaceful relationship with each other, to be friendly and compassionate, must surely solve this problem first. If you really consider what is happening in the world you will see how man is dividing himself, bringing wars, confusion and utter misery. To all this confusion, to all this in creasing and expanding misery, there must be an answer; that is possible only if we understand the process of desire. Whenever we seek anything without understanding our desire, we are seeking an idea as a means of action; all our search ends in an idea - idea as a formulation, as a concept, or as an experience; we are seeking a conclusion, an idea, a concept. But an idea, a concept, a formulation can never produce action. I do not know if that is clear, or rather abstract and confusing. To us, idea is very important, idea in the shape of experience or in the shape of a conclusion. So, when we are seeking, we are seeking an idea which we will translate afterwards into action. First, I have an idea of what I should do, and then I act. We have the pattern of what a society should be, and then we conform to that pattern. So, there is always a contradiction, a competition, a struggle between action and idea. Is this search for an idea truly an answer, or is the search to be independent of idea and be only action? This is not very complex if you really think about it. It is really very important to understand this before you proceed further. Because our search is intellectual, there is a contradiction between idea and action, a gap, an interval; and our constant endeavour is to bridge the two together, which is surely a waste of time, stupidity, call it what you will; because we do not understand that the search depends on desire, and that desire essentially breeds idea. Surely therefore, those of us who are really earnest, who are not carried away by emotional nonsense or by their own prejudices, by their own vanities, if they really want to find out a peaceful and lasting answer to this problem, have to search our and understand desire, which means action. The very understanding of desire is action and not idea. The moment you have an idea, what happens? Watch your own mind and see, discover what happens when you have an idea. You want to translate that idea into action. Don't you? You want to put it into a picture or to do something with it, convey, translate, communicate it with somebody. Idea is never action. Is it? If peace is based on an idea, then you are bound to have contradictions of how to carry it out, how to implement, and how to bring it about. But if you begin to under stand the whole process of desire, then you will see that action is independent of thought, of idea. The mistake we make is that we first have the idea and then act. But if we begin to understand desire, which is a very complex and intricate problem, then you will see that action follows the understanding of each desire. What do I mean by understanding desire? Desire is not static, is it? You cannot impose certain rules and regulations on desire if you would understand it. Would you? You have to follow it you have to observe you have to follow every movement of its intricate, conscious and unconscious whims and fancies. Have you not? You cannot say `That is right desire. That is wrong desire. This is all right. This, I want to do', and so on. When you say so, you put an end to the understanding and subsequent following of that desire. This is not easy because we have been trained from childhood to repress, to control, to dominate and say `This is right, that is wrong; and therefore, we put an end to investigation, to search and to all understanding. Do not begin to say immediately `This is right desire or wrong desire'. Let us find out. It is like following a path on the map. That is, if you are earnest; but if you want to be flippant about it and want to play about it in the name of peace, obviously that has no meaning. Such people have no experience. If you would really follow it out, then you will see that you have a centre which is always the process of recognition. There is no experience if there is no recognition. If I do not recognize, I have no experience. Have I? You only say `I have an experience' when there is a process of recognition taking place. Our difficulty is to understand desire without this process of recognition. Do you understand what I mean by recognition? By recognition, I mean something that happens when you meet or see somebody. You then have a subjective reaction, emotion, and you recognize; you give it a name; and that recognition only strengthens each experience; and each experience limits, conditions, and narrows down the self. So, if you would understand what is reality, what is God, that centre of recognition must completely end. Otherwise, what have you? The projection of your mind and memory, what you have learnt from the past, with which you recognize what is happening. And what is happening is your own experience projected. If I want to know what truth is, my mind must be in a state in which no recognition can ever take place. Is that possible? Do not please accept any of these things if you are not convinced. Have a balanced and sane scepticism about it all. You are not my pupils or my followers. You are dignified human beings trying to find out the right answer to all this appalling misery. To find out the right answer you must be extremely sharp, doubting, questioning, being balanced with scepticism. Is it possible? Do you have an experience which is not recognized? Do you understand what it means? Because that is after all God, that is the Truth, that is the Eternal or what you will. The moment you have a measure with which to measure, that is not Truth. Our Gods are measurable; we know them previously. Our scriptures, our friends and our religious teachers have so conditioned us that we know what every thing is. All that we are doing is merely this process of recognition. Is it possible to dissolve the centre of recognition? After all, it is the desire that gives strength to one's recognition. To say `I know, I have had experience, it is so', indicates the strengthening of self. There is no higher self, no lower self; self is self. Now to find out if there is God, if there is truth, if there is such a thing as a state in which recognition is not possible, in which all measurement has ceased, surely, we must begin to understand desire. It is so absurd for the so-called religious people to say `there is God', and for others to say `There is no God'. That is not solving the problem, nor is the repeating of the Bible, or the Bhagavad Gita, or God knows what else. Surely that is not solving the problem. That is what everybody has been doing through centuries. Yet, we have not solved it. We are increasing our problems more and more, bringing greater and greater miseries upon us. So, to understand this problem of existence with all its confusion, its extraordinary trials, troubles, tribulations and misery, surely, we have to understand desire, to follow it. You can only follow it when the mind is aware of it self, when you are not looking at desire as something outside of you, when you are following it. Look here, sirs. I have a desire. What do I do? My instinctive reaction is to condemn it, to say how idiotic, how stupid it is; or to say how good, how noble it is. Then what happens? I have not really followed the desire; I have not gone into, I have not understood it; I have put an end to it. Please think it out, and you will see the extraordinary importance of it. Then I assure you, you will have revolution, revolution of the greatest kind; because inward revolution is the only revolution, not economic revolution; because inward revolution will always conquer outward revolution, but outer revolution can never conquer inner. What is important is inward psychological revolution, regeneration; and that can only take place when we follow, understand the whole process, the complex process of psychological desire, motives, urges conscious as well as unconscious. That is not easy. It is no use saying `I have got it now, everything is all right; I am trans formed; because to say so, is only to find yourself back into the whirl of action. If we can understand how to pursue desire, how to be acquainted with it, how not to translate it, then we shall solve all these problems. How is it possible for an ordinary person like you and me, who has got so many problems - economic, family, religious, the mess we are all in - to pursue desire to the end, to go with it, to understand it? Is that not the question? How am I who is not intelligent, who has got so many formulations, prejudices, memories, how am I to follow desire? It would be easy if you had a companion who would stop you each time, and say: `Look, what are you doing? You are interpreting, translating, condemning desire. You are not really following it. You are really putting a cap on it'. If somebody could force you every instant and make you observe what you are doing, then perhaps it will be helpful. But you have no such companion; you too do not want such a companion, be cause it is too difficult, too irritating, too disturbing. But, you will have such a companion in your own mind if you are earnest and say `I want to understand it'. Don't create any intellectual difficulty by asking `When I say I want it, is that not a desire'? That is only a quibbling of words, that is clever argumentation and has no validity. Then you and I will not understand it, because we must use words in order to convey; but if you merely put a stop at a certain point, and refuse to go beyond and understand the words in their connotation, then all action ceases. Take any desire, desire to be powerful, which most of us have; desire to dominate, which most of us have; clerk or president or any body rich or poor has the desire to be powerful. Do not condemn it, do not say `It is right; it is wrong', but go into it; you will then see where it will lead you. You do not have to read any book. All the subconscious accumulations of desire for power through various means will be open to the conscious. There you have the book of knowledge; and if you do not know how to read it, you will never understand anything. You are following all the rubbish that has no meaning because, in your heart, in your mind, truth lies, and it is no good seeking it outside though it may be pleasing to you to do so. So we lead very complex and contradictory lives not only individually but collectively, Brahmin against non-Brahmin and so on. They are not only parochial problems but vast problems, world problems; and you cannot solve them through merely being confined to a narrow area. We must think of this thing as a tremendous whole, not as a little person investigating a little problem. So, that is what we are going to discuss and talk about for the next six weeks, that is, how to understand desire and how, if possible, to go beyond recognition, that centre which recognizes, which cripples all creative action. Please do not come if you really are not earnest. It is very much better to have two or three who are really earnest. It is sheer waste of time on your part because I feel I have talked for so many years and with what result? Do not have any sympathy for me, please. I feel there is something in that centre that can be grasped and understood; because, as you know, it is something much greater than physical or superficial existence. I would like to convey this to the two or three who are really serious and can go into it. But it is very difficult to find those two or three, because we have got all kinds of people with their self-importance, their ambitions, and their refusal to see beyond themselves. So, I beg of you most earnestly not to come if you are not serious, if you are not earnest; because if you are earnest, we can go very far and understand, not eventually but immediately. And that is where there is real transformation, to see a thing very clearly and to act upon it; and that requires enormous patience, observation and inward integrity. Question: You have been in retreat for the past sixteen months and that, for the first time in your life. May we know if there is any significance in this? Krishnamurti: Don't you also want to go away sometimes to quiet and take stock of things and not merely become a repetitive machine, a talker, explainer and expounder? Don't you want to do that some time, don't you want to be quiet, don't you want to know more of yourself? Some of you wish to do it, but economically you cannot. Some of you might want to do; but family responsibility and so on crowd in your way. All the same, it is good to retreat to quiet and to take stock of every thing that you have done. When you do that, you acquire experiences that are not recognized, not translated. Therefore, my retreat has no significance to you. I am sorry. But your retreat, if you follow it rightly, will have significance to you. And I think it is essential sometimes to go to retreat, to stop everything that you have been doing, to stop your beliefs and experiences completely, and look at them anew, not keep on repeating like machines whether you believe or do not believe. You would then let in fresh air into your minds. Wouldn't you? That means you must be in secure, must you not? If you can do so, you would be open to the mysteries of nature and to things that are whispering about us, which you would not otherwise reach; you would reach the God that is waiting to come, the truth that cannot be invited but comes itself. But we are not open to love, and other finer processes that are taking place within us, because we are all too enclosed by our own ambitions, by our own achievements, by our own desires. Surely it is good to retreat from all that, is it not? Stop being a member of some society. Stop being a Brahmin, a Hindu, a Christian, a Mussulman. Stop your worship, rituals, take a complete retreat from all those and see what happens. In a retreat, do not plunge into something else, do not take some book and be absorbed in new knowledge and new acquisition. Have a complete break with the past and see what happens. Sirs, do it, and you will see delight. You will see vast expanses of love, understanding and freedom. When your heart is open, then reality can come. Then the whisperings of your own prejudices, your own noises, are not heard. That is why it is good to take a retreat, to go away and to stop the routine - not only the routine of out ward existence but the routine which the mind establishes for its own safety and convenience. Try it sirs, those who have the opportunity. Then perhaps you will know what is beyond recognition, what truth is which is not measured. Then you will find that God is not a thing to be experienced, to be recognized; but that God is something which comes to you without your invitation. But, that is only when your mind and your heart are absolutely still, not seeking, not probing, and when you have no ambitions to acquire. God can be found only when the mind is no longer seeking advancement. If we take a retreat from all that, then perhaps the whisperings of desire will cease to be heard, and the thing that is waiting will come directly and surely. January 5, 1952 MADRAS 2ND PUBLIC TALK 6TH JANUARY 1952 We were talking yesterday about the problem of desire and how to understand it. As it is a very important question, it should not be casually considered and discarded. One can put innumerable questions to find the right answer, but one must have the capacity to listen. Most of us are so eager to get an answer, to have a right response, to find the right solution, that in our eagerness we miss them all. So, as I suggested yesterday, we should have a great deal of patience, not lethargy but alertness with patience, alert passivity. What I would like to do this evening is to talk over the problems of belief and knowledge. Belief and knowledge are very intimately related to desire; and perhaps, if we can understand these two issues, then we can see how desire works, and understand its complexity. May I suggest that you should listen and not take notes, because it is very difficult to take notes and to listen. What I would like to experiment with each one of you here in all my discussions and talks is that we should see the issue directly, understand it directly, and not to grope about after you have gone from here. Then you will see that these meetings are worthwhile. I feel most ardently that I am not talking to a large audience or to a small audience, but that I am talking to each individual; and I mean it. It is only the individual that can see, understand and create a new world, that can bring about an inward revolution and therefore an external revolution also. So, you as an individual and I are discussing the problem together and are going into it as deeply as possible to do that, you have to listen; you have to be a little receptive, be capable of exposing yourself to what is being said, and find out your own reactions as we go along. So, may I suggest that, as you listen, you should see the thing without interpretation and understand it directly. As I said, it is really a very interesting problem, this question of belief and knowledge. What an extraordinary part it plays in our life! How many beliefs we have! Surely the more intelligent, the more cultured, the more spiritual, if I can use that word, a person is, the less is his capacity to understand. The savages have innumerable superstitions, even in the modern world. The more thoughtful, the more awake, the more alert are perhaps the less believing. That is because belief binds, belief isolates; and we see that, throughout the world, the economic and the political world, and also in the so-called spiritual world. You believe there is God, and perhaps I believe that there is no God; or, you believe in the complete State control of everything and of every individual, and I believe in private enterprise and all the rest of it; you believe that there is only one Saviour and through him you can get your end, and I don't believe so. So, you with your belief and I with mine are asserting ourselves. Yet we both talk of love, of peace, of unity of mankind, of one life - which means absolutely nothing; because actually the very belief is a process of isolation. You are a Brahmin, I a non Brahmin; you are a Christian, I a Mussulman, and so on. But you talk of brotherhood and I also talk of the same brotherhood, love and peace. In actuality, we are separated, we are dividing ourselves. A man who would want peace and would want to create a new world, a happy world, surely cannot isolate himself through any form of belief. Is that clear? It may be verbal; but, if you see the significance and validity and the truth of it, it will begin to act. So, we see that where there is a process of desire at work, there must be the process of isolation through belief; because, obviously, you believe in order to be secure economically, spiritually, and also inwardly. I am not talking of those people who believe for economic reasons; because they are brought up to depend on their jobs and therefore they will be Catholics, Hindus - it does not matter what - as long as there is a job for them. We are not also discussing those people who cling to a belief for the sake of convenience. Perhaps, with most of you it is equally so. For convenience, we believe in certain things. Brushing aside these economic reasons, you must go more deeply into it. Take the people who believe strongly in anything, economic, social or spiritual; the process behind it is the psychological desire to be secure. Is it not? And then there is the desire to continue. We are not discussing here whether there is or there is not continuity; we are only discussing the urge, the constant impulse to believe. A man of peace, a man who would really understand the whole process of human existence, cannot be bound by a belief. Can he? It means, he sees his desire at work as a means to become secure. Please do not go to the other side and say "I am preaching non-religion". That is not my point at all. My point is that as long as we do not understand the process of desire in the form of belief, there must be contention, there must be conflict, there must be sorrow, and man will be against man, which is seen every day. So, if I perceive, if I am aware that this process takes the form of belief which is an expression of the craving for inward security, then my problem is not that I should believe this or that but that I should free myself from the desire to be secure. Can the mind be free from it? That is the problem, not what to believe and how much to believe. These are merely expressions of inward craving to be secure psychologically, to be certain about some thing when everything is so uncertain in the world. Can a mind, can a conscious mind, can a personality be free from this desire to be secure? We want to be secure and therefore need the aid of our estates, our property and our family. We want to be secure inwardly and also spiritually by erecting walls of belief, which are an indication of this craving to be certain. Can you as an individual be free from this urge, this craving to be secure, which expresses itself in the desire to believe in something? If we are not free of all that, we are a source of contention; we are not peacemaking; we have no love in our hearts. Belief destroys all that, and this is seen in our everyday life. So, can I see myself when I am caught in this process of desire, which expresses itself in clinging to a belief? Can the mind free itself from it? It should not find a substitute for belief but be entirely free from it. You cannot answer "yes or no" to this; but you can definitely give an answer if your intention is to become free from belief. You then inevitably come to the point when you are seeking the means to free yourself from the urge to be secure. Obviously, there is no security inwardly which, as you like to believe, would continue. You like to believe there is God who is carefully looking after your petty little things, whom you should see, what you should do and how you should do. Obviously, this is childish and immature thinking. You think the Great Father is watching every one of us. That is a mere projection of your own personal liking. It is not obviously true. Truth must be something entirely different. To find out that truth which is not a projection of our liking, is our purpose in all these discussions and talks. So, if you are really earnest in your endeavour to find out what truth is, it would be obvious that a mind that is crippled, that is bound, that is trammelled by belief, cannot proceed any distance. Our next problem is that of knowledge. Is knowledge necessary to the understanding of truth? When I say `I know', the implication is that there is knowledge. Can such a mind be capable of investigation and search of what is reality? And besides, what is it we know, of which we are so proud? Actually what is it we know?, We know information; we are full of information and experience based on our condition, our memory and our capacities. When you say `I know', what do you mean? Do please think it out, go along with me, don't merely listen to me. Either the acknowledgment that you know is the recognition of a fact or a certain in formation, or it is an experience that you have had. The constant accumulation of information, the acquisition of various forms of knowledge, information, all that, constitutes the assertion `I know; and you start translating what you have read, according to your background your desire, your experience. Your knowledge is a thing in which a process similar to the process of desire is at work. Instead of belief we substitute knowledge. `I know, I have had experience, it cannot be refuted; my experience is that, on that I completely rely; these are indications of that knowledge. But when you go behind it, analyse it, look at it more intelligently and carefully, you will find that the very assertion `I know' is another wall separating you and me. Behind that wall you take refuge, seeking comfort, security. Therefore, the more the knowledge a mind is burdened with, the less capable it is of understanding. Obviously! Surely, Sirs, the man who would seek peace, who would seek truth, must be free from all knowledge; because he that has knowledge, would interpret in his own way all that he observes and experiences. Therefore, the suppression of all knowledge is essential to experience reality - suppression in the sense not of subjugation, not enforcing it down. It is a very interesting thing to watch how in our life these two, knowledge and belief, play an extraordinarily powerful part. Look how we worship those who have immense knowledge and erudition! Can you understand the meaning of it? Sirs, if you would find something new, experience something which is not a projection of your imagination, your mind must be free. Must it not be? It must be capable of seeing some thing new. But unfortunately, every time you see something new, you bring all the information known to you already, all your knowledge, all your past memories; obviously you become incapable of looking, incapable of receiving anything that is new and that is not of the old. Please don't immediately translate this into detail. If I do not know how to get back to Mylapore, I would be lost; If I do not know how to run a machine, I shall be of little use. That is quite a different thing. We are not discussing that here. We are discussing about knowledge that is used as a means to security, psychological and inward security, to be something. What do you get through knowledge? The authority of knowledge, the weight of knowledge, the sense of importance, dignity, the sense of vitality and what not? A man who says `I know', `There is' or `There is not', surely has stopped thinking, stopped pursuing this whole process of desire. Our problem then, as I see it, is: "I am bound, weighed down by belief, with knowledge; and is it possible for a mind to be free from yesterday and the beliefs that have been acquired through the process of yesterday". Do you understand the question? Is it possible for me as an individual and you as an individual to live in this society and yet be free from the beliefs in which the mind has been brought up? Is it possible for the mind to be free of all that knowledge, all that authority? Please, sirs, do pay a little attention to this, because I think it is very important if you are at all earnest to really go into this problem of belief and knowledge. We read the various scriptures, religious books. There, they have very carefully described what to do, what not to do, how to attain the goal, what the goal is and what God is. You all know that by heart and you have pursued that. That is your knowledge, that is what you have acquired, that is what you have learnt; along that path you pursue. Obviously what you pursue and see, you will find. But is it reality? Is it not the projection of your own knowledge? It is not reality. Is it possible to realize that now - not tomorrow, but now - and say `I see the truth of it', and let it go, so that your mind is not crippled by this process of imagination, of projection, of seeing what it must be. Similarly, is the mind capable of becoming free from belief? You can only be free from it when you understand the inward nature of the causes that make you hold on to it, not only the conscious but the unconscious motives as well, that make you believe. After all, we are not merely a superficial entity functioning on the conscious level. We can find out the deeper conscious and unconscious activities if you give the unconscious mind a chance, because it is much quicker in response than the conscious mind. If you listen, as I hope you are listening, to what I am saying, your unconscious mind must be responding. While your conscious mind is quietly thinking, listening and watching, the unconscious mind is much more active, much more alert and much more receptive; it must, therefore, have an answer. Can the mind which has been subjugated, intimidated, forced, compelled to believe, can such a mind be free to think? Can it look anew and remove the process of isolation between you and me? Please do not say belief brings people together. It does not. That is obvious. Is that not? No organized religion has. Look at our selves in this country. You are all believers, but are you all together? Are you all united? You yourselves know you are not. You are divided into so many petty little parties, castes; you know the innumerable divisions; similarly in the west. The process is the same right through the world -Christians destroying Christians, murdering each other for petty little things, driving people into camps, and so on, the whole horror of war. So, belief does not bind people. That is so clear. If that is clear and that is true, and if you see it, then it must be followed. But the difficulty is that most of us do not see, because we are not capable of facing that inward insecurity, that inward sense of being alone. We want something to lean on, whether it is the State, whether it is the caste, whether it is nationalism, whether it is a Master or a Saviour or any thing we want to hold on. And when we see the falseness of it, the mind is capable, it may be temporarily for a second, of seeing the truth of it; and when it is too much, it goes back. But to see temporarily is sufficient; if you can see it for a fleeting second, it is enough; because you will then see an extraordinary thing taking place. The unconscious is at work though the conscious may reject. And it is not a progressive second; but that second is the only thing and it will have its own results even in spite of the conscious mind struggling against it. So, our question is `Is it possible for the mind to be free from knowledge and belief?' Is not the mind made up of knowledge and belief? Are you following all this? Is not the structure of the mind belief and knowledge? Belief and knowledge are the processes of recognition, the centre of the mind. The process is enclosing, the process is conscious. So can the mind be free of its own structure? You understand what I mean? The mind is not as we know the mind to be. It is so easy to ask questions without understanding. Probably, I shall receive many questions tomorrow such as `How can the mind be like this or that?' Do not please ask such questions. Think it out, feel it out, go into it, do not accept what I am saying, but see the problem with which you are con fronted everyday in your life. Can the mind cease to be? That is the problem. Mind, as we know it, has belief behind it, has desire, urge to be secure, knowledge and accumulation of strength. And if, with all its power and superiority, one cannot think for oneself, there can be no peace in the world. You may talk about it, you may organize political parties, you may shout from the housetops; but you cannot have peace; because in the mind is the very basis which creates contradiction, which isolates and separates. We will discuss this as we go along. Just leave it alone. You have heard it, let it simmer. If you have already discarded desire, finished with it, so much the better; if you have not, let it operate. And it will operate if you listen rightly because it is something vital, it is something that you have to solve. A man of peace, a man of earnestness, cannot isolate himself and yet talk of brotherhood and peace. It is just a game, political or religious, a sense of achievement and ambition. We shall discuss that later. A man who is really earnest about this, who wants to discover, has to face the problem of knowledge and belief; he has to go behind it, to discover the whole process of desire at work, desire to be secure, desire to be certain. Question: You have condemned discipline as a means of spiritual or other attainment. How can anything be accomplished in life without discipline or at least self-discipline? Krishnamurti: Again please let us listen. Let us listen to find the truth of the matter. It does not matter what I say or somebody else says; but we have to find the truth of the matter. First of all, there are many who say that discipline is necessary, or the whole social, economic, and political system would cease; that, in order to do this or that, in order to realize God, you must have discipline. You must follow a certain discipline; because without discipline, you cannot control the mind; without discipline, you will spill over. But I want to know the truth of the matter, not what Sankara, Buddha or Patanjali or anybody else had said. I want to know what is the truth of it. I do not want to rely on authority to find it out. Would I discipline a child? I discipline a child when I have no time, when I am impatient, when I am angry, when I want to make him do something. But if I help the child to understand why he is mischievous, why he is doing a certain thing, then discipline is not necessary. Is it? If I go and explain, take the trouble, have the patience to understand the whole problem of why the child is acting in such and such a way, surely, discipline is not necessary. What is necessary is to awaken intelligence, is it not? If intelligence be awaken ed in me, then obviously I shall not do certain things. Since we do not know how to awaken that intelligence, we build walls of control and resistance, and call that discipline. So discipline has nothing to do with intelligence; on the contrary, it destroys intelligence. So how am I to awaken intelligence? If I understand that to think in a certain manner - for instance, to think in terms of nationalism - is a wrong process, if I see the whole implication of it, the isolation, the sense of identification with something larger, and so on, if I see the whole implication of desire, of the activity of the mind, if I really understand and see the whole content of it, if my intelligence awakens to it, the desire drops away; I do not have to say `It is a very bad desire'. This requires watchfulness, attention, alertness and examination. Does it not? And because we are not capable of it, we say we must discipline; it is a very immature way of thinking about a very complex problem. Even modern systems of education are discarding the whole idea of discipline. They are trying to find out the psychology of the child and why he is going in such and such a way; they are watching him, helping him. Now, look at the process of discipline. What happens? Discipline is, surely, a process of compulsion, of repression. Is it not? I want to do something and I say, `I must, because I want to get there' or `That is bad'. Do I understand anything by condemning it? And when I condemn a thing, do I look at it, do I go into it? I have not seen it. So, it is the sluggish mind that begins to discipline, without understanding what it is all about; and I am sure all religious rules have been laid down for the lazy. It is so much easier to follow than to investigate, than to enquire, than to understand. The more you are disciplined, the less your heart is open. Do you know all these things, Sirs? How can an empty heart understand something which is beyond the influence of the mind? The problem of discipline is really very complex. The political parties use discipline in order to achieve a particular result, in order to make the individual conform to the ideal pattern of a future society, and for which we are only too willing to be come slaves because that promises something marvellous. So a mind that is seeking a reward, an end, forces itself to conform to that end which is always a projection of a clever mind, of a superior mind, a more cunning mind. A disciplined mind can never understand what it is to be peaceful. How can a mind which is enclosed by regulations and restrictions, see anything beyond? If you look at this process of discipline, you will observe that desire is at the back of it, the desire to be strong, the desire to achieve a result, the desire to become something, the desire to be powerful, to become more and not less. This constant urge of desire is at work, this urge to conform, to discipline, to suppress, to isolate. You may suppress, you may discipline. But the conscious cannot control and shape the unconscious mind. If you try to shape your unconscious mind, it is what you call discipline. Is it not? The more you suppress, the more you put the lid on your mind, the more the unconscious revolts till ultimately the mind either ends up neurotically or does a crazy thing. So what is important in this question is not whether I condemn discipline or you approve of it, but to see how to awaken the integrated intelligence, not departmentalized intelligence, but integrated intelligence, which brings its own understanding, and therefore avoids certain things naturally, automatically and freely. It is the intelligence that will guide, not discipline. Sir, this is really a very important and complex question. If we would really go into it, if we watch ourselves and understand the whole process of discipline, we will find that we are not really disciplined at all. Are you disciplined in your lives? Or are you merely suppressing the various cravings, resisting various forms of temptations? If you should resist through discipline, those temptations and those demands are still there. Are they not hidden deep down but still there, waiting for an opening to burst out? Have you not noticed as you grow older, that those feelings that are suppressed, are coming out again? So you cannot play tricks with your unconscious; it will pay you back thousandfold. You have to understand this whole process, not that you are all for discipline, and I am against it. I assert that discipline will lead you nowhere; on the contrary, it is a blind process, unintelligent and thoughtless. But to awaken intelligence is quite a different problem. You cannot cultivate intelligence. Intelligence when awakened, brings its own mode of operation; it regulates its own life, observes various forms of tempta- tions, inclinations, reactions and goes into it; it understands, not superficially but in an integrated, comprehensive manner. To do that, the mind must be constantly alert, watchful. Must it not? Surely, for a mind that would understand, the restrictions imposed upon it by itself are of very little significance. To understand, there must be freedom; that freedom does not come through compulsion in any form; and freedom lies not at the end but at the beginning. Our difficulty is to awaken integrated intelligence, and that can only come about when we are capable of understanding the whole. This complex problem of desire expresses itself through discipline, through conformity, through repression, through belief, through knowledge. When we see the vast structure of desire, then we will begin to understand. Then the mind will begin to see itself and be capable of receiving something which is not the projection of its own. January 6, 1952 MADRAS 3RD PUBLIC TALK 12TH JANUARY 1952 I have been trying to find out, the last two times that we have met, the action that is not isolated, that is not fragmented, action that is not bound by idea; and I think it is important to go into that matter rather carefully because I feel that, without understanding the whole process of ideation, mere action will have very little significance. The conflict between idea and action will always be ever increasing and it can never be bridged. So, to find out action which is not fragmented, that is not broken up, not isolated, but comprehensive, we have to investigate the whole process of desire. Desire is not a thing that can be annihilated, that can be subjugated or twisted. That is because, as I explained, however much we may wish to abandon de sire, it can never be done; for desire is a constant process of the conscious as well as the unconscious, and we may temporarily control the conscious desire but it is very difficult to subjugate or control the unconscious. I feel that utter confusion and chaos would result from any action which is isolated; and it also seems to me that most of us are occupied with such actions. Experts and specialists have separated action and idea; they have done this at different levels and in different patterns and have told you how to act. There are, as you know, the economists, the politicians, the religious persons and so on; they have given us fragmentary views of the whole comprehension of life. It seems to me that those who are really very earnest to understand this process of action which is not isolated and not fragmented or broken up, must be on their guard. It can only be done when we understand the whole process of desire. That is more or less what we discussed last Saturday and Sunday. To understand desire is not to condemn it. As most of us are conditioned, as most of us have fixed ideas and opinions with regard to desire, it is almost impossible for us to follow the movement of desire without condemning it, without having opinions. If I would understand something, I must observe it without any process of condemnatory attitude. Must I not? If I would understand you and if you would understand me, we must not judge each other, we must not condemn each other; we must be open and receptive to all the implications of each other's word, to the expression of our face; we must be completely receptive and open minded. That is not possible when there is condemnation. Is it possible to have action without idea? For most of us, ideas come first and action follows after. Ideas are always fragmentary, they are always isolated; and any action based on idea must be fragmentary, isolated. Is it possible to have an action that is not broken up, that is comprehensive, that is integrated? It seems to me that such an action is the only redemption for us. All other actions are bound to leave further confusion all further conflict. So, how is one to find action which is not based on idea? What do we mean by idea? Surely idea is the process of thought. Is it not? Idea is a process of mentation, of thinking; and thinking is always a reaction either of the conscious or of the unconscious. Thinking is a process of verbalization which is the result of memory; thinking is a process of time. So, when action is based on the process of thinking, such action must inevitably be conditioned, isolated. Idea must oppose idea, idea must be dominated by idea. There is a gap then between action and idea. What we are trying to find out is whether it is possible for action to be without idea. We see how idea separates people. As I have already explained, knowledge and belief are essentially separating qualities. Beliefs never bind people; they always separate people; when action is based on belief or an idea or an ideal, such an action must inevitably be isolated, fragmented. Is it possible to act without the process of thought, thought being a process of time, a process of calculation, a process of self-protection, a process of belief, denial, condemnation, justification. Surely, it must have occurred to you as it has to me, whether action is at all possible without idea. I see as well as you see that when I have an idea and I base my action on that idea, it must create opposition; idea must meet idea and must inevitably create suppression, opposition. I do not know if I am making myself clear. To me this is really a very important point. If you can understand that, not by the mind or sentimentally but intimately, I feel we shall have transcended all our difficulties. Our difficulties are of ideas, not of action. It is not what we should do, which is merely an idea; what is important is acting. Is action possible without the process of calculation, which is the result of self-protection, of memory, of relationship, personal, individual, collective and so on? I say it is possible. You can experiment with it when you are here. If we can follow without any condemnation the whole process of desire, then you will see that action is inevitable without idea. That no doubt requires an extraordinary alertness of mind; because our whole conditioning is to condemn, justify, to put into various categories - which are all a process of calculation, mentation. For most of us, idea and action are two different things. There is idea first and action follows after. Our difficulty is to bridge action and idea. Let us look at it differently. We know every form of greed is destructive. Envy leads to ambition - political, religious, collective or individual. Every form of ambition, if we are aware of it, is limited and destructive. We all know that; we do not have to be told; we have not got to think a great deal about it. Ambition produces envy. Ambition is the result of the desire for power and position, for personal advancement, political and religious - politically in the name of an idea of the future or of the present, and spiritually in the name of something equally good or equally bad. We have known such ambitions - to be somebody, to be dominating people in the name of peace, in the name of Master, in the name of God and Heaven knows what else. Where there is ambition, there must be exploitation, man against man, nation against nation; and the very people who are shouting peace, are the very ones who are doing things which are highly destructive, perhaps for themselves and for their country or for their idea. Such people do not bring peace. They only verbalize peace but they have not got peace in their hearts. Such people obviously cannot bring to the world peace or happiness; they must only bring contention, war. Ambition is the result of greed, envy, desire for power. It is all based on an idea. Is it not? Idea is nothing but reaction. It is so, neurologically, psychologically or physically. Ambition is an idea to be something politically, religiously; `I want to become a great person and want to work for the future'. What does it reflect? We also know political ambition in the name of the country and so on. All this is based on an idea. It is an idea, a concept, a formulation of what I shall be or my party shall be. Having established the idea, then I pursue that idea in action. First of all, morally, an ambitious person is immoral. He is a source of contention; and yet we all encourage ambition. Otherwise, what can we do? There may be no achievement. So, when you look at it, you will see ambition is an idea, the pursuit of an idea in action, `I am going to be some thing', in which is involved exploitation, ruthlessness, appalling brutality etc. After all the `me' is an idea which has no actuality. It is a process of time. It is a process of memory, recognition, which are all essentially ideas. Can ambition be completely put aside when I perceive that action, if based on an idea, must ultimately breed hatred, envy? Can I abandon completely ambition, and therefore act without the process of idea? I shall put it more simply. If we are ambitious, is it possible to abandon completely ambition - politically, religiously? Only then, I am a centre of peace. But to abandon completely ambition with all its meaning, significance, inward confusion, brutality, with the whole significance of the desire for power and condemnation, is not so easy. I can only drop it integrally, wholly and completely when I no longer pursue in the idea, the idea being the `me; then there is no problem of how I am not to be ambitious, or being ambitious, how I am to get rid of it. Is that not our problem? We are all greedy, we are envious; you have more and I have less; you have more power and I want that power, spiritually, secularly. Being caught in it, my problem then is how to get rid of it. How am I to abandon it? We then introduce the problem `How?'. That is merely a postponement of action. If I see that action based on an idea must introduce postponement, then I realize the necessity for action without ideation. I wonder if I am making myself clear. Is not ambition destructive? Ambitious nations, individuals after power, or persons immensely gloated with their self-importance are all dangers; you know what misery they cause to themselves and to those around them. How are they to be got rid of - not superficially but profoundly, both in the conscious as well as in the unconscious? Idea introduced into action creates non-action. Action not based on idea will be immediate, not to morrow. If I am able to see without ideation the brutality, the implications of ambition, then there is immediate action. There is no question of how I am not to be ambitious. If we want action which is not separated, which is not fragmented, which is not isolated, we must think over. Have you not seen man against man, nation against nation, one sect against another, one group against another communally, one dogma against another, one Master against another? You know the whole game of division and brutality. Knowing it, seeing the fact of it clearly, can ambition be abandoned? We are aware of domination - spiritual, economic and political; and we have noticed the results - which are constant wars, starvation, fragmentation of man and so on. We know that any action without under standing the whole process of ideation and the course of ideas, will only further breed antagonism. So, a man who is earnest, who is really peaceful, not just politically peaceful, cannot prejudice this problem through idea; because idea is postponement, idea is fragmentary, and it is not integrated intelligence. Thought must always be limited by the thinker who is conditioned; the thinker is always conditioned and is never free; if thought occurs, immediately idea follows. Idea in order to act is bound to create more confusion. Knowing all this, is it possible to act without idea? Yes, it is the way of love. Love is not an idea; it is not a sensation; it is not a memory; it is not a feeling of postponement, self protective device. We can only be aware of the way of love when we understand the whole process of idea. Now, is it possible to abandon the other ways and know the way of love which is the only redemption? No other way, political or religious, will solve the problem. This is not a theory which you will have to think over and adopt in your life; it must be actual; and it can only be actual when you see and realize that ambition is destructive and therefore should be pushed away from you. We have never tried that way of love. We have tried every other way. Please do not shut your eyes and go to sleep over the word `love'. It is not a process of thinking. Your immediate reaction is `What is love? Can I know it? How am I to live according to that'? What is the way of love which is apart from the process of thinking and idea? When you love, is there idea? Do not accept it; just look at it, examine it, go into it profoundly; because every other way we have tried and there is no answer to misery. Politicians may promise it; the so-called religious organizations may promise future happiness; but we have not got it now, and the future is relatively unimportant when I am hungry. We have tried every other way; and we can only know the way of love if we know the way of idea and abandon idea, which is to act. It may sound absurd or foolish to the majority of you when you hear that action can be without idea; but if you go into it a little more deeply, without pushing it aside as silly, if you go into it deeply with earnestness, you will see idea can never take the place of action. Action is always immediate. You see something like ambition or greed; there is no `How to get rid of that? Can you do it'? Please think it out. We can discuss it. You will see that love is the only remedy; that is our only redemption in which man can live with man peacefully, happily, without exploiting, without dominating, without one person becoming greater and superior through ambition, through cunning. We do not know that way. Let us become aware of all this. When we have fully recognized the whole significance of action based on idea, the very recognition of it is to act away from it - which is the way of love. Question: We are told that India is rapidly disintegrating. Is this your feeling too? Krishnamurti: What do you think? What do you mean by disintegration? Surely, a nation, a group, an individual is disintegrating, when it or he is corrupt, is bound to tradition, when he is imitating, when he is following, when he is not independent in his thinking, when he is not free from the environment so that he, as an individual, cannot look, think and see clearly. Obviously, when one individual exploits another by his cunning, by his superior knowledge, by his capacities, surely such an individual is a factor of disintegration. Is he not? And are not we all in that same position? Are not we all imitating, following, exploiting, afraid, bound to the tradition of others' thoughts? Are we capable of thinking for ourselves without the imposi- tion of others' ideas? Does not all this indicate the process of disintegration? When you worship somebody, however great, is that not a process of disintegration? When you are pursuing an ambition, climbing its ladder, reaching the dung-heap, is that not disintegration? The dung-heap may be politically satisfying, economically gratifying; is that not also disintegration? Is not that disintegration when you are spiritually influenced by somebody, a special messenger? When you are building for the future, for tomorrow, or for the future of your own existence, next life and so on, is not that disintegration? You are always living in the future, sacrificing many for an idea. Surely, all this is an indication of disintegration, is it not? This is not only here, in India; this is taking place all over the world. Why are we doing this all the time? Is it very difficult to find out the "why"? We all want to be secure, economically and psychologically. Our petty selves are so narrow and limited that we want to be secure. Therefore we worship authority. So long as we seek security inwardly, there must be disintegration. Outward security we must have. I must be sure of my next meal, shelter and clothing; but that is made impossible if each one of us seeks inward security either through property or nation, or desires to achieve the topmost rung of the ladder. That is, so long as I am seeking personal advancement in any form, which is an indication of the desire for inward security, there must be disintegration, because I am fighting my fellowman. You listen to all this, and what is your action? Not what is your idea, or your opinion, because anybody can have an opinion; but what is your action? If you say `How am I not to be ambitious, how am I not to be self-protective', then my question to you is merely an idea, is merely an exchange of thought, opinion. But if it is genuine in the sense that it is a challenge for you to respond through action, then what will you do? That is, you are truly a factor of disintegration. It does not matter what society you belong to - Indian, Russia, American or English - you are sure to be a factor of destruction and disintegration, as long as you consciously pursue security, inwardly or outwardly. What is your action? Surely, that is the only response you can have, not `I shall think over it; how am I to do it'?, which is rather a response to an idea. But a man who sees it, acts immediately; and that man will know the way of love; to me, he is the regenerating factor in the world of corruption. That does not require great courage, great intelligence which are merely factors of the cunning mind; it requires perspective, direct perspective of what is. The man who sees clearly, inevitably must act. We do not want to see, and that is where our misery lies. We know all this. We are familiar with all this corruption, disintegration; and we cannot act because we are caught in ideation, in ideas, thought of how and what. So a man who sees corruption and is aware of it without the screen of idea, will act; and such a man knows the way of love. Question: When the mind ceases to recognize, does it not come to a state of inactivity? What functions then? Krishnamurti: To answer that question fully, you must understand what has been said previously. I said the process of mind is recognition. Thought, experience, the centre of me, is recognition. Without recognition, without knowing, there is no thought process. If I have an experience, I must be able to recognize it either verbally or without verbalization. I must know I have had experience; that is, I must recognize experience as pleasurable, painful and so on. I must give it a name. There is the centre of recognition, which is the me, the self - not higher self or lower self, self is one; not superior or inferior, that is the invention of the clever mind. So, this centre of recognition is the self; and without recognition, can the mind exist, can the centre, the me, exist? Obviously, not. The questioner asks if that recognition is not, if the centre is not, what is the state of activity of the mind. What is the activity there? What happens then? Have I explained the question? Now, why do you want to know? There is no pushing you back into yourselves. You want to know in order to be able to recognize, is it not? To be able to recognize from my experience when I verbalize it to you, so that you can say I have had it, so that you can recognize your experience as corresponding to mine. Your asking the question is a continuation of the process of the self. Is my experience the same as yours? You are asking the question in order to feel secure in your recognition. Please see how your own mind works. So, what you are interested in, is not what happens when the process of recognition is not; but, you want an assurance from me that your experience is the same as mine; which is, you want to recognize your experience in relation with mine. So your question has no answer. It is a wrong question. Let us put it differently. We only know experience through recognition. And each recognition strengthens the mind, the self, gives emphasis, strengthens the security of the self. Each experience is recognized and you cannot have experience without saying `Yes, I know what it is'. So your experience is only a projection of your own thought. Listen without being clever and cunning; just watch it. Psychologically it is a fact. I want to see the Master and I see him, and I experience; but it has nothing to do with reality. It is my desire projected and recognized, which only strengthens my experience, my recognition; and so I say `I believe, I know'. So, if I rely on my experience to see what truth is, then it is my projection of what truth should be. And is it possible for the centre, for the me, to have no recognition, not to aid experience through recognition? You try it. You try to see if your mind can be completely still without recognition, without recognizing things; when this happens, the mind is in a state of stillness. Soon after wards, it wants to prolong that state thereby reducing that experience to the realm of memory and strengthening the process of thought, of recognition, which is the centre of the self; therefore, there is no possibility of experiencing anything anew; recognition persists; there is the desire to hold on to the experience done years ago, to continue it. Can the mind be still, without any of all this? Which means, can the mind be still without verbalization which is thought process? If the mind is still in that manner, activities that follow cannot be measured, cannot be verbalized, cannot be recognized. God, Truth, is not recognizable. Therefore, to know Truth, there must be the understanding and putting away of all knowledge, of all beliefs; because when the mind is not in a state of knowledge, when recognition has ceased, Truth can come into it and be there. Question: If I am myself unable to find Truth, how can I prevent my child from being the victim of my conditioning? Krishnamurti: How would you set about it? Knowing that a parent is conditioned, that he has prejudices, has ambitions, has absurdities, has pronouncements, has secularism, has beliefs, has traditions, has grand mother's opinions, what society will say and will not say; knowing all that, how will you help the child to grow to be a free and integrated human being? That is the problem. Is it not? How will you set about it? It requires a whole hour to answer it, because the question is how to educate the child. What are we doing for our children? Merely trying to fit them into the present state of society, to help them pass examinations! We have really no idea of what he should be; we want to try to help the child to understand what we have not understood. If I am blind, can I lead you across the road? But being blind, I do not say I am blind. I am not aware that I am blind. I say `Yes, I am conditioned, it is so. But I want to help my child'. But if I am aware that I am deeply and fundamentally conditioned, I have problems, prejudices, ambitions, superstitions, beliefs, if I am aware of it, be cognizant of it, be in the know of it, then what happens? My action towards my child will be different. If I know I am poisoned, religiously poisoned, will I allow my child to come near me? I will reason with him, show him why he should not come to me; which means, I must love my child. But we do not love our children. We have no love in our hearts for the children; otherwise, if there was, we would prevent wars; we would prevent all this fragmentation of human beings into classes, nationalities, British, Indian, Brahmin and Non Brahmin, white and black, purple and blue. So being conditioned, I cannot help another if I am unaware of my conditioning. But to acknowledge I am conditioned is to break from it, and not `I am conditioned, how am I to be free from the conditioning'? which is merely an idea which helps me to postpone action. If I am aware of it, if I know I am conditioned, then I cannot but act and help the child. It is really very important to under stand this question, not the question of conducting the child, how to help him. We have to understand the whole problem of idea and action. We have always placed idea first and action afterwards. All our literature - religious, political, economic - are based on idea. Our knowledge is nothing more. A mind that is full of knowledge and ideas can never act. Therefore, belief and knowledge are an impediment to action. They may sound contradictory and absurd; but, if you will kindly go into it, you will see the reasonableness behind that statement. So what is important in these questions and talks, is not to find the cultivation of ideas; or to exchange opinions, dogmas and beliefs; or to substitute them for another; but to be free to act, without action being isolating. Action will always be isolating so long as it is based on knowledge and belief, which is idea, which is the process of thinking. When you have a problem as of ambition, you cannot have an idea about it; you can only act about it. Similarly, when I know I am conditioned, a mere thought process regarding it is postponement of the mind from that conditioning. I assure you, it ceases to be a problem only to a man who is earnest, whose function is peace, who is intent on finding love, the way of love, because he is not concerned with idea, because he is concerned with action which is not isolated. January 12, 1952 MADRAS 4TH PUBLIC TALK 13TH JANUARY 1952 I have been trying to find out the solution of the problem of consciousness. It is very important to talk over what individuality or the problem of consciousness is. Being individuals, we strive to fit into the pattern of the community, the collective, the totalitarian. Before we can adequately and truly cover the subject, it is necessary, is it not?, to understand the whole question of individuality. What is the individual? This problem is a question which must be talked over very constantly and wisely without any barriers and without any conclusions and comparisons. If you can listen to what I am going to talk about, not throw up barriers of your own conclusions which may be true or may not be true, barriers of what you have learnt from your environmental influence or what you have read from the books, then perhaps you will be able actually to co operate with me and with each other without dominating, without completely annihilating the individual through legislation, through compulsion, through concentration camps and so on. I do not know if you feel the importance of this question. If not, I suggest that you should try to, because it is really a vital problem. As it is a difficult question we should be able to talk it over like two friends, not like two antagonists in two opposite camps, you with your opinions and I perhaps with mine. I am not offering an opinion; I am not putting forward a belief, formulation, conception because I do not indulge in that form of stupidity; because to me it is stupid, when I am incapable of understanding what is, that I should want to know what is. We should not speculate about what is. I hope you see the difference between speculation of what is and to understand what is. Surely the two are entirely different. Most of us only speculate, have beliefs, have conclusions about what is; and with these conclusions, speculations, formulations, etc. we approach the question of the individual. Truly we must fail if we so approach it; whereas if we can look at it without formulation but merely look at it, then perhaps we should be able to understand the significance of the problems involved in individuality, and perhaps we should be able to go beyond that which we call the individual. That is to understand the whole question of the conscious and the unconscious, not only the barren uppermost consciousness of the mind, of the active mind, but also of the unconscious, the hidden. So, what is the individual? What is the `me'? You must examine what we think it is and what we hope it is, that is, look at ourselves without speculation if that is possible. If you say such things as `I am the highest representative of God', that is mere speculation. We have to put aside such speculations. Obviously! Must we not? They are all words which you have learnt, which society has imposed upon you, one way, or the other. Politically, you might say that if you belong to the extreme left, you have nothing to bother about but only let the environmental influence operate; if you are religiously inclined, you have your own phraseology that you are this, you are that, and that some thing is manifest in you. You know the whole thing about the higher self and the lower self. With that back ground obviously you cannot look or examine the problem. Can you? You can only look at what is by observing very carefully the whole process of the individual, what the individual is, etc. Can you tell me what you are? Please bear in mind what we are discussing, for what purpose. To understand the problem of the conscious and to look into it, if it is possible, not speculatively, not theoretically, but to go beyond the confines of the narrow area called the individual, that is what we are trying to do. What is the individual? What are you, actually? Obviously, certain physiological responses, bodily responses and psychological responses of memory, of time, constitute the individual. We are all composed of frustrated hopes, depressions with an occasional joy, in which the self is, the `me' with all its fears, hopes, degradations, memories. We are a repository of tradition, of knowledge, of belief, of what we would like to be, and of the desire for certainty, of continuity with a name and a form. That is what actually we are. We are the result of our father and mother, of environmental influences, climatically and psychologically. That is what is. Beyond that we do not know. We can only speculate; we can only assert; we can only say that we are the soul, immortal, imperishable; but, actually, that has no existence. That is merely a process of `what is' translated into terms of security. So, consciousness, as we know it, is a process of time. When are you conscious? When there is response, pleasant or unpleasant. Otherwise you are not conscious. Are you? When there is fear, you are conscious. When there is frustration, you are aware of yourself being frustrated. When there is joy, you are aware of it. When consciousness comes into action, when desire is thwarted, frustrated or when desire finds fulfilment, you are equally aware. So, what we know is that consciousness is a process of time, confined, limited, narrowed down to the thought process. Surely, that is what is actually taking place in each one of us. Is it not? That process may be elevated to a high degree or taken down to a low degree; but that is what is actually taking place, what is actually going on. Consciousness is a process of time in action. I want to do something and when I can do that without any hindrance, without any struggle, without any sense of fear or frustration, there is no effort involved. The moment effort is involved, consciousness as the `me' comes into being. I hope you are following. The individual is the product of time, and it is memory, consciousness, the `me' narrowed down to a particular form and name. `I' refers to both the conscious mind functioning as well as the unconscious. We all have fear of death, we have fear of innumerable things. You have various levels of frustrations and hopes, according to education, according to environmental influence, and of depression dependent on physiological condition, as well as psychological condition. So, we are all that; we are a bundle of all that. We are conscious only when the movement of consciousness is blocked. You are aware of yourself only when you are hindered. Are you aware of yourself in any other way? You are aware of yourself in fulfilling, in achieving, in arriving, in be coming. Otherwise, you are not conscious. are you? And as long as there is this process of time, there must be fear. Must there not be? What is fear? Fear is in relation to something. Is it not? Fear does not exist by itself. Fear of death, of not being, not arriving, not being elected, not achieving, not becoming successful and so on. There is fear at different levels. There is the fear to be secure economically, mentally. As long as there is fear, there must be struggle; there must be battle; there must be constant friction between being and not being, not only on the conscious level but also on the hidden level. So, being afraid, which is the state of most of us, we are trying to escape from it; and the escapes are many. Please follow carefully and watch yourself as you follow. Then you and I can proceed further and discover much more than at mere verbal level. You must watch your self as I am talking, in the mirror of my words. If you merely stop at the verbal level, you will not be able to proceed further; and you can only proceed further, if you are relating what I am saying to yourself. I am not saying something which you have to examine and analyze. I am saying what is actually taking place. We are all afraid. We have a desire to be secure. You like to be with your husband, I with my wife, with my neighbour, with my society, with God, and so on. There are innumerable forms of desire. We have not solved the problem of fear. What we do is to escape from it through various forms. If we are so-called educated, so-called civilized, our escapes are refined. Sometimes these escapes take the form of superstition. Now, is it possible to go beyond fear? I know I am afraid; you know you too are afraid, may not be outwardly; but, you are afraid inwardly. What is this fear? Obviously it can be only in relation to something. I am afraid of death; I am afraid because I do not know what is going to happen. I am afraid of losing my job; I am afraid of my neighbour; I am afraid of my wife; I am afraid of having a desire; I am afraid of not arriving at the spiritual height that is expected of me and so on. What is this `me'? It is fear, consciousness in action, desire to be something or not to be something. Fear finds various escapes. The common variety is identification. Is it not? Identification with the country, with the society, with an idea. Haven't you noticed how you respond when you see a procession, a military procession or a religious procession, or when the country is in danger of being invaded? You then identify yourself with the country, with a belief, with an ideology. There are other times when you identify with your child, with your wife, with a particular form of action or inaction. So, identification is a process of self forgetfulness. As long as I am conscious of the `me', I know there is pain, there is struggle, there is constant fear. But if I can identify myself with something greater, with something worthwhile, with beauty, with life, with truth, with belief, with knowledge, at least temporarily, there is an escape from the `me'. Is there not? If I talk about my country I forget myself temporarily. Do I not? If I can say something about God, I forget myself. If I can identify my family with a group, with a particular party, with certain ideology, then there is a temporary escape. Therefore, identification is a form of escape from the self in as much as virtue is a form of escape from the self. The man who pursues virtue is escaping from the self and he has a narrow mind. That is not a virtuous mind, for virtue is some thing which should not be pursued. You are not going to be virtuous; because the more you try to become virtuous, the more the strength, the security you give to the self, to the `me'. So, fear which is common to most of us in different forms, must always find a substitution, and must therefore increase our struggle. The more you are identifying with a substitution, the greater the strength to hold on to that for which you are prepared to die, to struggle; because fear is at the back. Do we now know what fear is? Is it not the non-acceptance of what is? We must understand the word `acceptance'. I am not using that word as meaning the effort made to accept. There is no question of accepting when I am able to see what is and when I perceive what is? When I don't see clearly what is, then I bring the process of acceptance. So, fear is the non-acceptance of what is. How can I, who is a bundle of all these reactions, responses, memories, hopes, depressions, frustrations, who is the result of the movement of consciousness blocked, go beyond? That is, can the mind without this blocking and hindrance, be conscious? We know, when there is no hindrance, what extraordinary joy there is. Don't you know when the body is perfectly healthy, there is a certain joy, well being; and don't you know when the mind is completely free without any block, when the centre of recognition as the `me' is not there, you experience a certain joy? Haven't you experienced this state when the self is absent? Surely we all have. Having experienced, we want to go back and recapture it. This is again the time process. Having experienced something, we want it; therefore we give consciousness a block. Surely to find out action which is not the result of isolation, there must be action without the self. That is what you are all seeking in one form or other in society, through religious speculation, through meditation, through identification, through belief, through knowledge, through activities of innumerable kinds. That is what each one of us is seeking, to escape from the narrow area called `self', to get away from it. Can you get away from it without understanding the whole process of what is? If I do not know the whole content of what is in front of me as the me, can I avoid it and run away? There is understanding and freedom from the self, only when I can look at it completely and integrally as a whole; and I can do that only when I understand the whole process of all activity, of desire which is the very expression of thought - for thought is not different from desire - without justifying it, without condemning it, without suppressing it; if I can understand that, then I will know there is the possibility of going beyond the restrictions of the self. And then there can be action which is not isolated, action which is not based on idea. But so long as the mind is confined to the area called the `self', there must be conflict between man and man; and a man who seeks truth or peace, must understand desire. Understanding comes when desire is not blocked intellectually, through fear, through condemnation - which does not mean you must give fulfillment to desire; you must follow it, there must be movement without contradiction, without condemnation. Then you will see that the conscious, however active it may be, becomes the field in which the unconscious can flower. Freedom which is really virtue, is necessary to discover what is truth; and a man who is bound to belief, knowledge and self, can never find what truth is. That discovery of truth is not the process of time. The process of time is the mind and the mind can never discover what is truth. Therefore it is necessary to understand the process of consciousness as limited to the me. Question: What do you feel to be the cause of the great prevalence of mental derangement in the world today? Is it insecurity? If so, what can we do to keep the millions who feel insecure from becoming unbalanced, neurotic and psychotic? Krishnamurti: First of all, is there such a thing as inward security? Can there ever be security inwardly, psychologically? If you can find an answer to that, then physical security is possible; because that is what millions want, physical security, the next meal, shelter and clothing. Millions go to bed half-starved. To solve the problem of food, cloth and shelter for the many, not for the few, we must enquire why man seeks security, psychological security; because the answer is not in the rearrangement of things, the answer is not economic but psychological. Because each one of us is seeking inward security which prevents outward security for man, because each one of us wants to be something, we use physical substance as a means of psychological security. Are you not doing that? If you and I, if the world, were concerned in feeding man, clothing him and sheltering him, surely we will have to find ways. Is it not? Nobody is doing that. This is one cause of mental derangement. Is it not? If I feel outwardly insecure, I feel all kinds of things which bring about a mentally neurotic state. So our problem is not wholly economic, as economists would like to think, but rather psychological; which is, that each one of us wants to be secure through belief, through superstition. We know the various forms of belief to which we cling in the hope of feeling secure. Don't you know that the man who believes, can never commit suicide? But the man who does not believe is ready to commit suicide, either to kill himself or kill somebody else. So belief is the means of security. And the more I believe in the future life, in God, the more I think of it, because it gives comfort and security, and I am fairly balanced. But if I am enquiring, searching, doubting, skeptic, then I begin to lose my mooring and I lose my security, and mentally I cannot stand this. So there is the psychotic state of mind. Have you not noticed it in yourselves? The moment you have something to which you can cling, you feel peaceful, be it a person, or idea or party - does not matter what it is. As long as you can cling to something, you feel safe, and feel more or less balanced. But question that belief and enquire into it, you invite insecurity. That is why all clever and intellectual people end up in some form of belief; because they push their intellects as far as they go, and they see nothing; and then, they say `Let us believe'. Surely our question is, is there security. Psychological and inward security? Obviously there is not. I can find security in belief; but that is merely a projection of my uncertainty in the form of belief, which becomes certain. Can I find the truth of security and insecurity? Then only I am a sane being, not if I cling to some be lief or some knowledge or some idea. If I can find out the truth of security, then I am an integrated, intelligent being. Is that your question? Obviously not, because you do not want to know if there is security. The moment you doubt it, where are you? The house of cards which you have so cleverly built up, comes crumbling down. If you cannot achieve security, you become psychotic. So until you find the truth of security, if there is such a thing as security, obviously you are an unbalanced being. Is there security, psychological security, inward security? Obviously, there is not. We only like it to be; but there is not. Can you depend on anything? When you do, what happens? The very dependence is an invitation to fear which breeds in dependence away from it, which is another form of fear. So until you find the truth of insecurity which means continuity, you are bound to have some blockages in the mind? which in action creates a neurotic state. There is no permanency, there is no certainty, but there is truth which can only take place if you understand the whole process of desire and insecurity. Question: Is the regeneration of India possible solely through renaissance of arts and the dance? Krishnamurti: The word `solely' is important. Is it not? Because, what each one of us is occupied with, becomes the means of renaissance. If I am an artist, that is the only way through which I can produce a creative world. If I am a religious person, that is the only way. To the economist, economics is the only way of regeneration. So what each one of us is occupied with, that particular gift, that particular tendency, becomes the means of producing a regenerated India. Does regeneration come through outward organizations, through capacities, through rearrangement of facts, dance, or of arts? What do you mean by regeneration? Rebirth, something new, not continuity of the past in a new form. Surely we mean that. Don't we? A new state, a new world in which there is peace, happiness. You know the whole thing for which we are struggling. Is renaissance possible without inward revolution, inward freedom? You may be an expert in dancing, that may be your particular gift. Will that really regenerate India or the world because you are a marvellous dancer, or you are a marvellous chemist or politician? What will produce a fundamental and radical revolution, so necessary, a complete revolution, not fragmentary revolution but integrated revolution, not a superficial rearrangement of the pattern? Surely that revolution must take place in each one of us. Must it not? Don't be afraid of the word revolution. Either it is or it is not. We would rather like inward evolution, the whole process of becoming more and more worldly, more and more virtuous, which is only the strengthening of the me through time. As long as the me exists, there is no inward revolution. And the me cannot be dissolved through time or through identification with that which we want. Inward revolution takes place only when you see what is and when there is action which is not the basis of idea. Because when you are confronted with what is, ideas have no value. Regeneration and renaissance can only take place, not through a particular gift or capacity, but only through inward understanding and revolution. Question: Have I understood you aright when I say that the solution for all our ills is to put a stop to all recognition and to the vagaries of desire and go beyond it? I have experienced moments of ecstasy but they drop away soon afterwards, and desires rush in breaking from the past into the future. Is it possible to annihilate desire once and for all? Krishnamurti: See, you want a result. You worship success, and you want to get rid of desire altogether, in order to achieve that ecstatic state. That is, I would like to be happy and ecstatic and I want to get rid of desire. So I am enquiring not how to understand desire, but how to get rid of desire in order to achieve that state. Please see the impossibility of this. I want a certain result which I have experienced and that experience I want to continue; and I cannot continue that experience as long as desire exists; therefore, I must get rid of desire. You are not interested in understanding desire, but in modifying it at a particular stage; that is what is implied in this question. You want ecstasy, and you know you have experienced it; and you know desire prevents it, and so you have this problem of how to get rid of that. You desire that state of ecstasy, that is all. Only you have transformed your desire from secular, parochial, narrow walls to something which you have experienced. So what are you concerned with? With an experience which is past. Please follow this, if you would understand the whole process you are confronted with, the problem of recapturing a past experience like a boy who has had a moment of ecstasy, and who, when he has grown old, would want to re turn to that. You know it is fragmentary because he is incapable of experiencing anything new. What do you mean by experience? You can only experience anything which we recognize. So what is happening; the `me' recognizes some thing as ecstasy and wants to capture it. The very wanting is a process of desire. It is given a name. At the moment of experiencing, there is no naming. Please follow this. Watch yourself in operation; then what I say will have meaning. When some thing happens to you unexpected, a state of ecstasy develops; in that second, there is no recognition. You then say "I have had an experience", you give it a name. This is all the process of mind trying to give it a name so that it can remember, so that through that remembrance it can continue that experience. For most of us, that is our companion. But to understand desire needs an alert mind and constant watching without condemnation, without justification, constant observation, constant following, because it is never still. It is a movement; and no opposition will be of any use, for it will only create greater resistance in it. When you have an experience which is never recognized, you will see that the so-called experience which you name, is not an experience at all but only a continuance of your own desire in a different form. When you understand desire, when you have really followed it, you have a state of being in which recognition is not present, in which there is no naming. That comes only when the mind is not inviting, when the mind is really silent, not made silent. The mind is silent because it understands, it pursues and becomes aware of the whole process of desire. When the mind is silent, it is no longer imaginative, no longer verbalizing; that very silence of the mind leads to the state of being which cannot be measured by the mind. January 13, 1952 MADRAS 5TH PUBLIC TALK 19TH JANUARY 1952 We have been discussing the last few times that we have met, the importance of understanding the ways of the self; because, after all, the most thoughtful people must be aware that the self, the `me', the `I', is really the cause of all our mischief and all our misery. I think the most thoughtful people are aware of it. One can see that most religious organizations theorize and vaguely insist upon how essential it is that the `me', the self, should be completely abandoned. We have read in the books about the abandonment of the self. If we are at all religiously inclined, we have various phrases about it afl; we may repeat mantrams and all the rest of it; but in spite of all this, our own perception and vague comprehension about the self still continue in a very subtle way or in the grossest manner. I think, if it were at all easy, we must be sure and must understand the various expressions of the self and see if we cannot completely eradicate it; because I feel that, without understanding the whole complexity of the self, we can't proceed further - whether the self is or is not divided into the high and the low, which is irrelevant and which is only a matter of the mind which eventually divides it as a means of its own security. Unless we understand this whole complex process, there is no possibility of peace in the world. We know this; we are aware of this fact consciously or unconsciously; but yet in our every day life, it does not play any part; we do not bring it into reality. What we have been discussing is this: how are we to recognize the various activities of the self and its subtle forms behind which the mind takes shelter? We see the self, its activity and its action based on an idea. Action based on an idea is a form of the self because it gives continuity to that action, a purpose to that action. So, idea in action becomes the means of continuing the self. If the idea was not there, action has a different meaning altogether, which is not born of the self. The search for power, position, authority, ambition and all the rest are the forms of the self in all its different ways. But what is important is to understand the self and I am sure you and I are convinced of it. If I may add here, let us be earnest about this matter; because I feel that if you and I as individuals, not as a group of people belonging to certain classes, certain societies, certain climatic divisions, can understand this and act upon this, then I think there will be real revolution. The moment it becomes universal and better organized, the self takes shelter in that; whereas, if you and I as individuals can love, can carry this out actually in every day life, then the revolution that is so essential will come into being, not because you organized it by the coming together of various groups, but because, individually, there is revolution taking place all the time. I would like to discuss this evening how experience strengthens the self. You know what I mean by the self? By that, I mean the idea, the memory, the conclusion, the experience, the various forms of nameable and unnameable intentions, the conscious endeavour to be or-not to be, the accumulated memory of the unconscious, the racial, the group, the individual, the clan, and the whole of it all, whether it is projected outwardly in action, or projected spiritually as virtue; the striving after all this, is the self. In it, is included the competition, the desire to be. The whole process of that, is the self; and we know actually when we are faced with it, that it is an evil thing. I am using the word `evil' intentionally, because the self is dividing; the self is self-enclosing; its activities, however noble, are separated and isolated. We know all this. We also know that extraordinary are the moments when the self is not there, in which there is no sense of endeavour, of effort, and which happens when there is love. It seems to me that it is important to understand how experience strengthens the self. If we are earnest, we should understand this problem of experience. Now, what do we mean by experience? We have experiences all the time, impressions; and we translate those impressions, and we are reacting to them; or we are acting according to those impressions; we are calculated, cunning, and so on. There is the constant interplay between what is seen objectively and our reacting to it, and the interplay between the unconscious and the memories of the unconscious. Do not please, memorize all this. Watch, if I may suggest, watch your own minds and activities taking place as I am talking, and you will see. I have not memorized all this; I am just talking as it is happening. According to my memories, I react to whatever I see, to what ever I feel. In this process of reacting to what I see, what I feel, what I know, what I believe, experience is taking place. Is it not? Reaction to the response of something seen is experience. When I see you, I react; the reaction is experience. The naming of that reaction is experience. If I do not name that reaction it is not an experience. Please do watch it. Watch your own responses and what is taking place about you. There is no experience unless there is a naming process going on at the same time. If I do not recognize you, how can I have experience? It sounds simple and right. Is it not a fact? That is, if I do not react to you according to my memories, according to my condition, according to my prejudices, how can I know that I have had an experience? That is one type of it. Then there is the projection of various desires. I desire to be protected, to have security inwardly; or I desire to have a Master, a guru, a teacher, a God; and I experience that which I have projected. That is, I have projected a desire which has taken a form, to which I have given a name; to that, I react. It is my projection. It is my naming. That desire which gives me an experience, makes me say: `I have got', `I have experienced', `I have met the Master', or `I have not met the Master'. You know the whole process of naming an experience. Desire is what you call experience. Is it not? When I desire silence of the mind, what is taking place? What happens? I see the importance of having a silent mind, a quiet mind, for various reasons; because, Upanishads have said so, religious scriptures have said so, saints have said it, and also occasionally I myself feel how good it is to be quiet because my mind is so very chatty all the day. At times, I feel how nice, how pleasurable it is to have a peaceful mind, a silent mind. The desire to have a silent mind is to experience silence. I want to have a silent mind, and so I ask you `How to get it?'. I know what this book or that book says about meditation and the various forms of discipline. I want a silent mind through discipline and I experience silence. The self, the `me', has established itself in the experience of silence. Am I making myself clear? I want to understand what is truth; that is my desire my longing; then there is my projection of what I consider to be the truth, because I have read lots about it; I have heard many people talk about it; religious scriptures have described it. I want all that. What happens? The very want, the very desire is projected and I experience because I recognize that state. If I do not recognize that state, that act, that truth, I would not call it truth. I recognize it and I experience it. That experience gives strength to the self, to the `me'. Does it not? So, the self becomes entrenched in experience. Then you say `I know', `the Master exists', `there is God', or `there is no God; you say that you want a particular political system to come, because that is right and all others are not. So experience is always strengthening the `me'. The more you are strengthened, the more entrenched you are in your experience and the more does the self get strengthened. As a result of this, you have a certain strength of character, strength of knowledge, of belief, which you put over across to other people because you know they are not so clever as you are and because you have the gift of the pen and you are cunning. Because the self is still acting, your beliefs, your Masters, your castes, your economic system are all a process of isolation, and they therefore bring contention. You must, if you are at all serious or earnest in this, dissolve this completely and not justify it. That is why we must understand the process of experience. Is it possible for the mind, for the self, not to project, not to desire, not to experience? We see all experiences of the self are a negation, a destruction; and yet, we call the same a positive action. Don't we? That is what we call the positive way of life. To undo this whole process is what you call negation. Are you right in that? There is nothing positive. Can we, you and I as individuals, go to the root of it and understand the process of the self? Now what is the element that dissolves it? What brings about dissolution of the self? Religious and other groups have explained it by identification. Have they not? Identify yourself with a larger, and the self disappears; that is what they say. We say here that identification is still the process of the self; the larger is simply the projection of the `me', which I experience and which therefore strengthens the `me'. I wonder if you are following this. All the various forms of discipline, beliefs and knowledge only strengthen the self. Can we find an element which would dissolve the self? Or, is that a wrong question? That is what we want basically. We want to find some thing which will dissolve the `me'. Is it not? We think there are various forms of finding that, namely, identification, belief, etc; but, all of them are at the same level; one is not superior to the other, because all of them are equally powerful in strengthening the self, `the me'. Now, I see `the me' wherever it functions, and I see its destructive forces and energy. Whatever name you may give to it, it is an isolating force, it is a destructive force; and I want to find a way of dissolving it. You must have asked this yourself - " I see the `I' functioning all the time and always bringing anxiety, fear, frustration, despair, misery, not only to myself but to all around me. Is it possible for that self to be dissolved, not partially but completely?" Can we go to the root of it and destroy it? That is the only way of functioning. Is it not? I do not want to be partially intelligent, but intelligent in an integrated manner. Most of us are intelligent in layers, you probably in one way, and I in some other way. Some of you are intelligent in your business work, some others in your office work and so on; people are intelligent in different ways; but, we are not integrally intelligent. To be integrally intelligent means to be without the self. Is it possible? If I pursue that action, what is your response? This is not a discussion, and therefore please do not answer but be aware of that action. The implications which I have tried to point out, must produce a reaction in you. What is your response? Is it possible for the self now to be completely absent? You know it is; possible. Now, how is it possible? What are the necessary ingredients, requirements? What is the element that brings it about? Can I find it? Are you following this, Sirs? When I put that question `Can I find it?', surely, I am convinced that it is possible. I have already created an experience in which the self is going to be strengthened. Is it not? Under standing of the self requires a great deal of intelligence, great deal of watchfulness, alertness, watching ceaselessly, so that it does not slip away. I who am very earnest, want to dissolve the self. When I say that, I know it is possible to dissolve the self. Please be patient. The moment I say `I want to dissolve this', and in the process I follow for the dissolution of that, there is the experiencing of the self; and so, the self is strengthened. So, how is it possible for the self not to experience? One can see that creation is not at all the experience of the self. Creation is when the self is not there; because, creation is not intellectual, is not of the mind, is not self-projected, is some thing beyond all experiencing, as we know. Is it possible for the mind to be quite still, in a state of non-recognition, which is, non-experiencing, to be in a state in which creation can take place, which means, when the self is not there, when the self is absent? Am I making myself clear or not? Look, Sirs, the problem is this, is it not? Any movement of the mind, positive or negative, is an experience which actually strengthens the `me'. Is it possible for the mind not to recognize? That can only take place when there is complete silence, but not the silence which is an experience of the self and which therefore strengthens the self. Is there an entity apart from the self, which looks at the self and dissolves the self? Are you following all this? Is there a spiritual entity which supercedes the self and destroys it, which puts it aside? We think there is. Don't we? Most religious people think there is such an element. The materialist says `It is impossible for the self to be destroyed; it can only be conditioned and restrained -politically, economically and socially; we can hold it firmly within a certain pattern and we can break it; and therefore it can be made to lead a high life, a moral life, and not to interfere with any thing but to follow the social pattern, and to function merely as a machine'. That, we know. There are other people, the so-called religious ones - they are not really religious, though we call them so - who say `Fundamentally, there is such an element. If we can get into touch with it, it will dissolve the self'. Is there such an element to dissolve the self? Please see what we are doing. We are merely forcing the self into a corner. If you allow yourself to be forced into the corner, you will see what is going to happen. We would like that there should be an element which is timeless, which is not of the self, which, we hope, will come and intercede and destroy, which we call God. Now is there such a thing which the mind can conceive? There may be or there may not be; that is not the point. When the mind seeks a timeless spiritual state which will go into action in order to destroy the self, is that not another form of experience which is strengthening `the me'? When you believe, is that not what is actually taking place? When you believe that there is truth, God, timeless state, immortality, is that not the process of strengthening the self? The self has projected that thing which, you feel and believe, will come and destroy the self. So, having projected this idea of continuance in a timeless state as spiritual entity, you are going to experience; and all such experience will only strengthen the self; and therefore what have you done? You have not really destroyed the self but only given it a different name, a different quality; the self is still there, because you have experienced it. So, our action from the beginning to the end is the same action; only we think it is evolving, growing, becoming more and more beautiful; but, if you observe inwardly, it is the same action going on, the same `me' functioning at different levels with different labels, with different names. When you see the whole process, the cunning, extraordinary inventions, the intelligence of the self, how it covers itself up through identification, through virtue, through experience, through belief, through knowledge; when you see that you are moving in a circle, in a cage of its own make, what happens? When you are aware of it, fully cognizant of it, then, is not your mind extraordinarily quiet - not through compulsion, not through any reward, not through any fear? When you recognize that every movement of the mind is merely a form of strengthening the self, when you observe it, see it, when you are completely aware of it in action, when you come to that point - not ideologically, verbally, not through experiencing, but when you are actually in that state -then you will see that the mind being utterly still, has no power of creating. What ever the mind creates, is in a circle, within the field of the self. When the mind is non-creating, there is creation, which is not a recognizable process. Reality, truth, is not to be recognized. For truth to come, belief, knowledge, experiencing, virtue, pursuit of virtue - which is different from being virtuous - all this must go. The virtuous person who is conscious of pursuing virtue, can never find reality. He may be a very decent person; that is entirely different from the man of truth, from the man who understands. To the man of truth, truth has come into being. A virtuous man is a righteous man, and a righteous man can never understand what is truth; because virtue to him is the covering of the self, the strengthening of the self; because he is pursuing virtue. When he says `I must be without greed', the state in which he is non-greedy and which he experiences, strengthens the self. That is why it is so important to be poor, not only in the things of the world, but also in belief and in knowledge. A rich man with worldly riches, or a man rich in knowledge and belief, will never know anything but darkness, and will be the centre of all mischief and misery. But if you and I, as individuals, can see this whole working of the self, then we shall know what love is. I assure you that is the only reformation which can possibly change the world. Love is not the self. Self cannot recognize love. You say `I love', but then, in the very saying of it, in the very experiencing of it, love is not. But, when you know love, self is not. When there is love, self is not. Question: What is simplicity? Does it imply seeing very clearly the essentials and discarding everything else? Krishnamurti: Let us see what simplicity is not. Don't say `that is negation'. You do not say anything positive; that is immature, thoughtless expression. Those people who say it, are exploiters; because, they have something to give you, which you want and through which to exploit you. We are doing nothing of that kind. We are trying to find out the truth of simplicity. Therefore you must discard, put things aside, and observe. The man who has much, is afraid of revolution, inwardly and outwardly. So let us find out what is not simplicity. A complicated mind is not simple, is it? A clever mind is not simple; a mind that has an end in view for which it is working as reward, as punishment, is not a simple mind, is it? Sirs, don't agree with me. It is not a question of agreement. It is your life. A mind that is burdened with knowledge, is not a simple mind; a mind that is crippled with beliefs, is not a simple mind, is it? A mind that has identified itself with something greater, and is striving to keep that identity, is not a simple mind, is it? But we think it is a simple life to have a loin cloth, one or two; we want outward show of simplicity, and we are easily deceived by that. That is why a man who is very rich, worships the man who has renounced. What is simplicity? Can simplicity be the discarding of non-essentials and pursuing of essentials - which means choice? Please follow this. Does it not mean choice, choosing? I choose essentials and discard non-essentials. What is this process of choosing? Think deeply. What is the that chooses? Mind; is it not? It does not matter what you call it. You say `I will choose this essential'. How do you know what is the essential? Either you have a pattern of what other people have said, or your own experience says that is the essential. Can you rely on your experience? Because, when you choose, your choice is based on desire; what you call essential, is that which gives you satisfaction. So you are back again in the same process, are you not? Can a confused mind choose? If it does, the choice must also be confused. Therefore, the choice between the essential and the nonessential is not simplicity. It is a conflict. A mind in conflict, in confusion, can never be simple. So when you discard, when you see all the false things and the tricks of the mind, when you observe it, look at it, are aware of it, then you will know what simplicity is. A mind which is bound by belief, is never a simple mind. A mind that is crippled with knowledge, is not simple. A mind that is distracted by God, by women, by music, is not a simple mind. A mind caught in the routine of the office, of the rituals, of the mantrams, such a mind is not simple. Simplicity is action without idea. But, that is a very rare thing; that means creation. As long as there is not creation, we are centres of mischief and misery and destruction. Simplicity is not a thing which you pursue and experience. Simplicity comes, as a flower opens, at the right moment when each one understands the whole process of existence and relationship. Because we have not thought about it or have not observed it, we are not aware of it; we value in a certain way all the outer forms of simplicity - such as shaving our heads, having clothing or unclothing in a certain way. Those are not simplicity. Simplicity is not to be found. Simplicity does not lie between essential and non-essential. It comes into being when the self is not, when the self is not caught in speculations, in conclusions, in beliefs, in ideations. Such a mind only can find truth. Such a mind alone can receive that which is immeasurable, which is unnameable; and that is simplicity. Question: Can I who am religiously inclined and desirous of acting wholly and integrally, express myself through politics? For, to me, it appears that a radical change is necessary in the political field? Krishnamurti: What the questioner means is this: seeking wholly, seeking religiously the whole, entire, complete, can I politically function, that is, act partially? He says politics is obviously the path for him; when he seeks and follows that path which is not the whole, complete, he merely functions in fields which are partial, fragmentary. Is that not so? What is your answer, not your cunning answer, or immediate response? Can I see the whole thing of life, which means, can I love? Let us take love. I have compassion, I feel tremendously and for the whole; can I then act only politically? Can I, seeking the whole, be a Hindu or a Brahmin? Can I, having love in my heart, identify myself with a path, with a particular country, with a particular system, economic, or religious? Suppose I want to improve the particular, I want to bring about a radical change in the particular, in the country in which I live; the moment I identify myself with that particular, have I not shut out the whole? This is your problem just as mine. We are thinking about it together. You are not listening to me. When we are trying to find an answer, your opinions and ideas are not the solution. What we are trying to find is, can a truly religious man - not a phoney one that consults others - a really sacred person seeking the whole, can he identify himself with a radical movement for a particular country? And will it do to have revolution - don't be afraid of that word - of one country, of one people, of one state, if I am seeking the whole, if I am trying to understand that which is not within the scope of the mind? Can I, using my mind, act politically? I see there must be political action; I see there must be real change, radical change in our relationship, in our economic system, in the distribution of land, and so on. I see there must be revolution; and yet at the same time, I am pursuing a path the political path; I am also trying to understand the whole. What is my action there? Is not that your problem, Sirs? Can you act politically - that is, partially - and understand the whole? Politics and economics are partial; they are not the whole, integrated life; they are partial, necessary, essential. Can I abandon the whole or leave the whole society, and tinker with the particular? Obviously, I cannot. But I can act upon it, not through it. We want to bring about a certain change; we have certain ideas about it; we pursue so many groups and so on. We use means to achieve the result. And is the understanding of the whole contrary to that? Am I confusing you? I am only telling you what I think; do not accept it, but think it out for yourself and see. For me, political action, economic action, is of secondary importance, though they are essential. There must be radical change in the political field; but such a change will have no depth if I do not pursue the other. If the other is not primary, if the other is only secondary, then my action to wards the secondary will have tremendous significance. But, if I see a certain path and act politically, political action becomes important to me, and not acting integrally. But, if acting integrally is really important to me and if I pursue it, political action, religious action, economic action, will come rightly, deeply, fundamentally. If I do not pursue the other but merely confine myself to the political, the economic or the social change, then I create more misery. So it all depends on what you lay emphasis on. Laying emphasis on the right thing - which is the whole - will produce its own action with regard to politics and so on. It all depends on you. In pursuing that whole thing without saying `I am going to act politically or socially', you will bring about fundamental alterations politically, religiously and economically. What is important in this question is `What is it that you are seeking?'. What is the primary issue in your life? There is really no division between primary and secondary; but yet, in seeking, you will find that when you begin to understand the whole, there is no secondary or primary, then the whole is the path. But if you say that you must alter a particular part, then, you will not understand the whole. Any change in the particular, like the political field, cannot alter the whole thing; this has been shown historically. But if you know, if you are aware of the whole process of the self dissolve it, and if there is love, this will bring about a fundamental revolution in India. January 19, 1952 MADRAS 6TH PUBLIC TALK 20TH JANUARY 1952 I think it is important to understand the relationship between the speaker and yourself, for one is apt to listen to these talks and discussions with either complete indifference, curiosity, a certain attitude of scepticism; or with a natural inclination to take up a pro or anti attitude, an attitude of addiction. To me, both these approaches seem utterly wrong. What is important is to understand that you and I are two individuals, not a collective group belonging to two sects or religions; that we are, as two individuals, trying to solve the problem. That is always my approach, and not the one where I sit on a plat form advising what you should do, or laying down the law - which would be stupid. But if you and I as two individuals can look at the problem, understand it, go into the root of it, then perhaps we shall be able to help the many problems that confront each one of us, That is the only approach, I think, any intelligent person caught in the present confusion must adopt. We are so apt to believe, to accept; and that is because, in belief, in acceptance, there is a certain security, a certain escape, self-aggrandizement. If we can look at the problems with clarity and honesty of purpose, then we can solve the problems easily. But that is very difficult; because, most of us are so corrupt in our thinking, because we have so many vested interests - economic, religious and psychological. It is difficult for most of us to think apart from these backgrounds. If I may suggest, that is the only approach for solving any of the innumerable problems awaiting solution; you as an individual and I as an individual are resolving our problems in our little world of relationship. What we have been discussing for the last few weeks has been the question of the self and its ways. Can we see that the self is the root cause of all evils? The `me' or the self with all its extraordinary deviations and subtle actions is responsible for all our ills. Every intelligent man must resolve this problem of `self', not hedge it about, cover it about; he must understand how, in daily living, he gives sustenance, vitality and continuity to the self. If we would solve any of the world's problems, we must surely understand the whole process of the self with all its complexities, both the conscious and the unconscious. That is what we have been discussing, taking different aspects of it. Organized religion, organized belief and totalitarian states are very similar, because they all want to destroy the individual through compulsion, through propaganda, through various forms of coercion. The organized religion does the same thing only in a different way. There, you must accept, you must believe, you are conditioned. The whole tendency both of the left and of the so-called spiritual organizations is to mould the mind to a particular pattern of con- duct; because the individual left to himself becomes a rebel. So, the individual is destroyed through compulsion, through propaganda, and is controlled, dominated for the sake of the society, for the sake of the state and so on. The so-called religious organizations do the same, only a little more suspiciously, a little more subtly; because, there too, people must believe, must repress, must control and all the rest of it. The whole process is to dominate the self in one form or another. Through compulsion, collective action is sought. That is what most organizations want, whether they be economic organizations or religious. They want collective action, which means that the individual should be destroyed. Ultimately, it can only mean that. You accept the Left, the Marxist theory or the Hindu, Buddhist or the Christian doctrines; and thereby you hope to bring about collective action. Surely cooperation is different from coercion. How is collective action brought about, or how is it to be brought about? Up to now, it has been through belief, economic promise of a welfare state, promise of a bright future; or it has been through the so-called spiritual method, through fear, compulsion and various forms of reward. Does not cooperation come when there is intelligence which is not collective, which is neither collective nor individual? That is what I would like to discuss, talk over together, this evening. To discuss that problem profitably, you must find out what is the function of the mind. What do we mean by the mind? As I have been pointing out, you are not merely listening to me; but you and I are together investigating this question, the function of the mind. By sheer accident, I happen for the moment to be sitting on a platform, talking it over with you; but really you and I are together tackling the problem, together investigating the whole question. When you observe your own mind, you are observing not only the so called upper levels of the mind but also watching the unconscious, you are seeing what the mind actually does. Is it not? That is the only way you can investigate. You should not superimpose what it should do, how it should think or how it should act and so on; that would amount to making mere statements. That is, if you say the mind should be this or should not be that, then you stop all investigation and all thinking; or, if you quote some high authority, then you equally stop thinking. Don't you? If you quote Sankara, Buddha, Christ or X Y Z, there is an end to all pursuit, to all thinking and all investigation. So, one has to guard against that. You must put aside all these subtleties of the mind and you must know you are investigating this problem of the `me' together with me. What is the function of the mind? To find that out, you must know what the mind is actually doing. What does your mind do? It is all a process of thinking. Is it not? Otherwise, the mind is not there. As long as the mind is not thinking consciously or unconsciously, without verbalizing, there is no consciousness. We have to find out what the mind that we use in our every day life, and also the mind of which most of us are unconscious, do in relation to our problems. We must look at the mind as it is and not as it should be. Now what is mind as it is functioning? It is actually a process of isolation. Is it not? Fundamentally it is that. That is what the process of thought is, It is thinking in an isolated form, yet remaining collective. When you observe your own thinking, you will see it is an isolated, fragmentary process. You are thinking according to your reactions, the reactions of your memory, of your experience, of your knowledge, of your belief. You are reacting to all that. Aren't you? If I say that there must be a fundamental revolution, you immediately react. You will object to that word `revolution', if you have got good investments, spiritual or other wise. So, your reaction is dependent on your knowledge, on your belief on your experience. That is an obvious fact. There are various forms of reaction. You say `I must be brotherly', `I must cooperate', `I must brotherly', `I must cooperate', `I must be friendly', `I must be kind' and so on. What are these? These are all reactions; but the fundamental reaction of thinking is a process of isolation. Please do not readily accept it, for we are together investigating it. You are watching the process of your own mind, each one of you; which means, you are watching your own action, belief, knowledge, experience. All these give security. Do they not? They give security, give strength to the process of thinking. As we discussed yesterday, that process only strengthens the `me,' the mind, the self whether that self is high or low. All our religions, all our social sanctions, all our laws are for the support of the individual, the individual self, the separative action; and in opposition to that, there is the totalitarian state. If you go deeper into the unconscious, there too, it is the same process that is at work. There, we are the collective influenced by the environment, by the climate, by the society, by the father, the mother, the grandfather; you know all that. There again, is the desire to assert, to dominate as an individual, as the `me'. So, is not the function of the mind, as we know it and as we function daily, a process of isolation? Aren't you seeking individual salvation? You are going to be somebody in the future; in this very life, you are going to be a great man, a great writer. Our whole tendency is to be separated. Can the mind do anything else but that? Is it possible for the mind not to think separatively, in a self-enclosed manner, fragmentarily? That is impossible. Because of this, we worship the mind; the mind is extraordinarily important. Don't you know, the moment you are a little bit cunning a little bit alert and have a little accumulated information and know ledge, how important you become in society? You have seen how you worship those who are intellectually superior, the lawyers, the professors, the orators, the great writers, the explainers and the expounders! Haven't you? You have cultivated the intellect and the mind. The function of the mind is to be separated; otherwise, your mind is not there. Having cultivated this process for centuries, we find we cannot cooperate; only we are urged, compelled, driven by authority, fear, either economic or religious. If that is the actual state, not only consciously but also at the deeper levels, in our motives, our intentions, our pursuits, how can there be cooperation? How can there be intelligent coming together to do something? As that is almost impossible, religions and organized social parties force the individual to certain forms of discipline. Discipline then becomes imperative in order to come together, to do things together. So, until we understand how to transcend this separative thinking, this process of giving emphasis to the `me' and the mind whether in the collective form or in individual form, we shall not have peace; we shall have constant conflict and wars. Now, our problem is how to dissolve this, how to bring about an end to the separative process of thought? Can thought ever destroy the self, thought being the process of verbalization and of certain reactions? Thought is nothing else than reaction; thought is not creative; but it is only the expression of the creativeness in words, which we call thought. Can such thought put an end to itself? That is what we are trying to find out. Aren't we? I think along these lines: - `I must discipline', `I must identify', `I must think more properly', `I must be this or that'. Thought is compelling itself, urging itself, disciplining itself, to be something or not to be something. Is that not a process of isolation? Therefore, it is not the integrated intelligence which can function as a whole, from which alone there can be cooperation. Do you see the problem now? I am not proposing a problem myself. You must know that this is your problem, if you are not already aware of it. You may put it in different ways, but fundamentally, this is the problem. How are you to come to the end of thought; or rather, how is thought to come to an end? I mean the thought which is isolated, fragmentary and partial. How do you set about it? Will discipline destroy it? Will your so-called discipline destroy it? Obviously, you have not succeeded all these long years; otherwise, you would not be here. You must examine the disciplining process which is solely a thought process, in which there is subjection, repression, control, domination - all affecting the unconscious. It asserts itself later as you grow older. Having tried discipline for such a long time to no purpose, you must have found that obviously discipline is not the process to destroy the self. Self cannot be destroyed through discipline, because discipline is a process of strengthening the self. Yet, all your religions support it; all your meditations, your assertions are based on this. Will knowledge destroy it? Will belief destroy it? In other words, will every thing that we are at present doing, all the activities in which we are at present engaged in order to get at the root of the self, will all that succeed? Is not all this a fundamental waste in a thought process which is a process of isolation, a process of reaction? What do you do when you realize fundamentally or deeply that the thought cannot end itself? What happens? Watch yourselves, sirs, and tell me. When you are fully aware of this fact, what happens? You then understand that any reaction is conditioned, and that, through conditioning, there can be no freedom either at the beginning or at the end. Freedom is always at the beginning and not at the end. When you realize that any reaction is a form of conditioning and there forgiving continuity to the self in different ways, what actually takes place? You must be very clear in this matter. Belief, knowledge, discipline, experience, the whole process of achieving the result or the end, ambition, becoming something in this life or in the next one, future life - all these are a process of isolation, a process which brings destruction, misery, wars from which there is no escape through collective action, how ever much you might be threatened with concentration camps and all the rest of it. Are you aware of that fact? What is the state of the mind? What is the state of the mind which says `It is so', `That is my problem', `That is exactly where I am', `I have rejected', `I see what knowledge and discipline can do, what ambition does'? Surely, there is a different process at work. We see the ways of the intellect. We do not see the way of love; the way of love is not to be found through the intellect. The intellect with all its ramifications, with all its desires, ambitions, pursuits, must come to an end for real love to come into existence. Don't you know that when you love, you cooperate, you are not thinking of yourself? That is the highest form of intelligence - not when you are loved as a superior entity or when you are in good position, which is nothing but fear. When your vested interests are there, there can be no love; there is only the process of exploitation culminating in fear. So, love can come into being only when the mind is not there. Therefore, you must understand the whole process of the mind, the func- tion of the mind. Only then you can find out when deep revolution will take place. This process of the mind is not understood in a couple of minutes, or by listening to one or two talks. It can only be understood when there is a big revolution in you, a deep interest to find out this discontent, this despair. But you are not in despair. You are well-fed intellectually and physically. You prevent yourself to come to that state in which you are in despair. You have always something to lean on. You can always escape, go to the temple, read books, listen to a talk, run away; and a man who escapes, cannot be in despair. If you are in despair, you are trying to find a way to be hopeful, to go away from despair. It is only a man who is really unconscious, who has discarded completely all these things, stands naked, who will find what love is; and without that, there is no transformation, there is no revolution, there is no renewal. There is nothing but imitation and ashes; and that is what our culture is at present. It is only when we know how to love each other, there can be cooperation, there can be intelligent functioning, coming together over any question. It is only then possible to find out what God is, what Truth is. Now, we are trying to find truth through intellect, through imitation - which is idolatry, whether it is made by hand or by mind. Only when you discard completely, through understanding, the whole structure of the self, that which is eternal, timeless, immeasurable, comes; you cannot go to it; it comes to you. Question: Can the root of a problem like greed be completely eradicated by awareness? Are there various levels of awareness? Krishnamurti: That is a problem to the questioner. Is it to each one of us a problem? Greed cannot be chipped away little by little. That which you chip away, set aside, grows into greed in another form; and you know what greed does in society, between two individuals' relationship; you know the whole process of greed, economic or spiritual, of greed to be. The questioner asks how greed can fundamentally be eradicated, because he feels there must be a way, a process which will go to the root of the thing. If you say, `I wish to get rid of it slowly, gradually, till I become perfect', it is just a way of avoiding the issue. Is there a way of fundamentally eradicating it? Let us find out. First of all, why do you want to get rid of greed? Is it not in order to get something else, in order to be something, because books say so or because you see results in society? What is the urge that makes you say `I must do away with it?' That is very important to find out. You may be the root, when you say `I do not want to be this, but I want to be that'. The want to be, positive or negative, may be the root. You are only saying `I will do this and that; by chipping that, by becoming that, you have not understood the motive; have you? Can greed be destroyed by will, by denial, by repression, by control or by identifying with some thing which is not greed? Can you destroy it? If you have tried it, the very process of identifying with some thing, is that not also greed? Certainly, it is also greed, because you want to avoid the pains, conflicts, and sufferings of greed without really solving it. You are trying to be some thing else. The motive, the desire, is still to be something. Is not desire to be something the very nature of greed? To be something is greed. Can you live in this world without being something? Can you live with out being anything, without titles, degrees, positions, capacities? Until you are prepared to be nothing, you must be greedy in different forms. Have you true awareness of this function of greed and its destructive pursuits? Can the mind - after all, mind is greed - can the mind be nothing, not seeking, not desiring to be, to become? Obviously it can. It is only then, you are full; only then, you do not ask, you do not demand to be fulfilled. But you do not want to be nothing. All your struggle is to be something; is it not? If you are a clerk, you want to be something higher, to have better pay, more position, higher prestige, more ambitions, to be near the Master, far away from the Master, promise of reward in the future. You don't throwaway all that, be simple, be nothing, be really naked. Surely, till you come to that state, there must be greed in different forms. And you cannot come to that state, without being nothing. Your experiencing of nothing is a projection of the self and therefore a strengthening of the self. So, you cannot experience the state of nothingness any more than you can experience the state of love. When you experience anything, love is not; be cause, as I explained yesterday, that which you call experience is only a projection of your own desire and therefore a strengthening of the self. So if you see all this, if you are aware of all this - not only at the superficial level, which is to have little, to possess only one or two suits - , if you are aware of the whole significance of the desire to transform yourself from this to that, when you are fully cognizant of the whole process of greed, then greed will drop away. Obviously, there are many layers of awareness. The spirit of marvel of what all is taking place, of the trees, the moonlight, the poor unfed child, the half-starved, the bloated tummies - they are all superficial awareness, observations. But if you can go a little deeper, there is awareness of how we are conditioned, not only at the conscious level but at a deeper level, awareness which comes through dreams, or movement when there is a little space between two thoughts, a certain unthought of, un-meditated observation. When you can go still deeper, that is, when the mind is absolutely without any reflection, recognition, when the mind is still, not experiencing, when the mind is not seeing what is stillness, there is intelligence. Mind is always verbalizing experience and therefore giving strength to the memory and there fore to the self. Surely, the more we are conscious of all the ways of the self, the more we are aware of all our feelings; we understand every sorrow, every movement of thought; we not only observe it, but live with it without brushing it aside. That gives maturity; not age, not know ledge, not belief. That brings about integrated intelligence, which is not separative. Question: We are all Theosophists interested fundamentally in truth and love, as you are. Could you not have remained in our society and helped us rather than separate yourself from us and denounce us? What have you achieved by this? Krishnamurti: First of all, many of you are amused; others are a little bit agitated; there is apprehension. Don't you feel all this? Let us find out. Fundamentally, are we, you and I, seeking the same thing? Can you seek truth in any organization? Can you give yourself a label and seek truth? Can you be a Hindu and say `I am seeking Truth'? Then, what you are seeking, is not Truth but fulfilment of belief. Can you belong to any organization, spiritual group, and seek Truth? Is Truth to be found collectively? Do you know love when you believe? Don't you know that, when you believe in something very strongly and I believe in something contrary, there is no love between us. When you believe in certain hierarchical principles and authorities, and I do not, do you think there is communion between us? When the whole structure of your thinking is the future, the becoming through virtue, when you are going to be somebody in the future, when the whole process of your thinking is based on authority and hierarchical principles, do you think there is love between us? You may use me for convenience, and I may use you for convenience. But that is not love. Let us be clear. Do not get agitated about these matters. You will not understand, if you get excited about it. To find out whether you are really seeking truth and love, you must investigate, must you not? If you investigate, if you find out inwardly and therefore act outwardly, what would happen? You will be out side, wouldn't you? If you question your own beliefs, won't you find yourself outside? As long as there are societies and organizations - so called spiritual organizations who have vested interests in property, in belief, in knowledge - obviously, the people there are not seeking Truth. They may say so. So, you must find out if we are fundamentally seeking the same thing. Can you seek Truth through a Master, through a guru? Sirs, think it out. It is your problem. Can you find Truth through the process of time, in becoming something? Can you find truth through the Master, through pupil, through gurus; what can they tell you fundamentally? They can only tell you to dissolve `the me'. Are you doing that? If you are not, obviously you are not seeking Truth. It is not that I am saying that you are not seeking Truth; but the fact is that, if you are saying `I am going to be somebody', if you occupy a position of spiritual authority, you can not be seeking Truth. I am very clear about these matters, and I am not trying to persuade you to accept or to denounce, which will be stupid. I cannot denounce you, as the questioner says. Even though you have heard me for twenty years, you go on with your beliefs; because, it is very comforting to believe that you are being looked after, that you have special messengers for the future, that you are going to be something beautiful, now or eventually. You will go on because your vested interests are there, in property, in job, in belief, in knowledge. You do not question them. It is the same all the world over. It is not only this or that particular group of people, but all groups - catholics, protestants, communists, capitalists - are in the same position; they have all vested interests. The man who is really revolutionary, who is inwardly seeing the truth of all these things, will find Truth. He will know what love is, not in some future date which is of no value. When a man is hungry, he wants to be fed now, not tomorrow. But you have convenient theories of time, of eventuality, in which you are caught. Therefore, where is the connection, where is the relationship between you and me, or between yourself and that which you are attempting to find out? And yet, you all talk about love, brotherhood; and everything you do, is contrary to that. It is obvious, sirs, that the moment you have organization, there must be intrigues for position, for authority; you know the whole game of it. So, what we need is not whether I denounce you or whether you denounce or throw me out. That is not the problem. Obviously you must reject a man who says that what you believe or do is wrong; you have done so, or inwardly you should do so, because I say I am opposed to that which you want. If you would really seek, if you would find truth and love, there must be singleness of purpose, complete abandonment of all vested interests; which means, you must be inwardly empty, poor, not seeking, not acquiring positions of authority as displayers or bringers of messages from the Masters. You must be completely naked. Since you do not wish that, naturally, you acquire labels, beliefs and various forms of security. Sirs, do not reject; find out whether you are really, as you say, fundamentally seeking truth. I really question you, I really doubt you when you say `I am seeking Truth'. You cannot seek truth, because your search is a projection of your own desires; your experiencing of that projection is an experience which you want. But when you do not seek, when the mind is quiet and tranquil without any want, without any motive, without any compulsion, then you will find that ecstasy comes. For that ecstasy to come, you must be completely naked, empty, alone. Most people join these societies because they are gregarious, because they are clubs, and joining clubs is very convenient socially. Do you think you are going to find Truth when you are seeking comfort, satisfaction, social security? No, sirs; you must stand alone without any support, without friends, without guru without hope, completely and inwardly naked and empty. Then only, as the cup which is empty can be filled up, so the emptiness within can be filled up with that which is everlasting. January 20, 1952 MADRAS 7TH PUBLIC TALK 26TH JANUARY 1952 Perhaps this evening we can discuss the problem and the full implication of what is suffering and what is sorrow. I think that before we enter into that subject, we should consider what we mean by the word `understanding', because if we can understand the profound significance, the depth and the meaning of sorrow, perhaps then we shall be able to free the mind entirely from those reactions which we term, or to which we give the name `sorrow' which is a feeling. So, it is important to find out what we mean by `understanding'. Is understanding reason or deduction? Is understanding merely the outcome of an intellectual or verbal process, or is it something entirely different from deduction, from comprehension? By careful analysis, do we solve a deep psychological problem? Is not understanding the comprehension, recognition, seeing the whole of the problem in its entirety? The mind can only reason, put several things together, deduce, analyze, compare, have knowledge about; but can the mind which is a process of thinking in which time is involved, which is memory and which is the accumulation of beliefs, knowledge, can such a mind understand the full significance of a problem? In other words, can the time process which is essentially a process of the mind, a process of thinking, solve a problem? That is particularly important to find out for most of us. For most of us, the instrument which we have cultivated so diligently is the mind, the intellect, with which we approach a problem hoping thereby to resolve it. We are asking ourselves: `Can the mind which is a process of time, which is the result of yesterday, to day and tomorrow, be the instrument of understanding?' Can the mind see the whole problem in its entirety? Does understanding come into being through time? Or is it irrespective of time? If we dissociate the process of understanding from reasoning, from deduction, from analysis which is a process of time, then we can probably comprehend fully a problem at one glance. That is very important. Is it not? If we are to understand the full significance of sorrow, we must eliminate the time process altogether. Time will not resolve the process of building up sorrow nor will it help in the resolution of sorrow. It can only help you to forget it, to evade it, to postpone it; but still the sense of sorrow is there. So, please come forward this evening as two individuals, not as groups of people trying collectively to think about it; come forward as two individuals and look at this problem of sorrow without introducing the process of time as a means to understanding, to resolving. In other words, can we see this problem of entirety? It is only so when we see something completely, wholly integrally, there is a possibility of its dissolution, and not other wise. The possibility of this dissolution does not lie through the process of what we call the mind, the reason, the thought. That is why I said we must understand that word `understanding; we must grasp the significance of that word. I think if we can do that, perhaps we shall get to the root of the problem of sorrow. If I would understand something, first I must love it. Must I not? I must have communion with it. I must have no barrier. There must be no resistance. There must be no apprehension, no fear, which translate themselves into condemnation, justification or a process of identification. I hope you are following all this. Forget the words for the moment; the words I am using need not have any value for you; keep in contact, in communion with what I am saying, the spirit of it, which is not mere verbalization. To understand something, there must be love. If I would understand you, I must love you, I must have no prejudice. We know all these things. You say `I have no prejudice'. But all of us are a bundle of prejudices, antagonisms; and we put on verbal screens. Let us remove this screen and see what the significance of sorrow is. I feel that, only through that way, we shall resolve this enormously complex problem of sorrow. So, understanding requires communion; understanding requires a mind that is capable of perceiving the unknown, the unnameable; be cause a mind that wishes to understand something, must itself be quite still, which is not a state of recognition. If there is to be understanding there must be communion, which means love, not only at one particular level but at all levels. When we love somebody, it is a process of timeless quality. You can't name it. There is no barrier of fear, of reward, of condemnation; nor is there identification with somebody else - which is a mental process. If we can really see the significance of that word, then we can go into the problems of suffering. If there is that feeling of communion, of really loving that problem which we call sorrow, then we shall be able to understand it fully; otherwise we shall merely run away from it, find various escapes. So, let us, if we can, put ourselves in that position. Only then, we can understand what is called sorrow. There should be no mental barrier, no prejudice, no condemnation, no justification through tradition. Then we can approach, you and I as individuals, this thing that is consuming most of us, sorrow. Energy in movement, in action, is desire. Is it not? That desire when thwarted is pain, and that desire in fulfilment is pleasure. For most of us, action is a process of fulfilment of desire. "I want" and "I don't want" govern our attitude. That energy which is canalized, identified as the `me' through desire, is ever seeking a fulfilment. Desire in its movement, in its action, is a process of fulfilment or denial. There are various forms of fulfilment and various forms of denial likewise, each binding, each bringing about different kinds of sorrow. When there is sorrow, there are various forms of resolution of it, various forms of escapes from it. We know sorrow at different levels. Don't we? Physical sorrow, physical pain, sorrow of death, sorrow that comes when there is no fulfilment, sorrow resulting from a state of emptiness, sorrow that comes when ambition is not fulfilled, sorrow in not coming up to the standard or the good example, sorrow of the ideal and finally sorrow of identification. We know various forms of sorrow at different psychological and physiological levels; and also we know the various forms of escapes, drink, rituals, repetition of words, the turning to tradition, looking to the future, looking for better times, better hopes, better circumstances; we know all these forms of escapes - religious, psychological, physical and material. The more we escape, the greater and more complex the problems become. When we look at the problem, our whole structure is a series of escapes. You explain away sorrow; to you then, explanation has more significance than the depth, the meaning, the vitality of sorrow. After all, the explanations are merely words, however subtle, however justified; and we are satisfied with words. This is another escape. We have our whole mental process in approaching a problem like that of sorrow. We have our basis of a series of escapes, justifications, and condemnation. So, there is not direct and vital communion with the problem of sorrow. Then you are a different entity looking at sorrow. You are trying to dissolve, enquire into, analyze the problem of sorrow. You are different; and something else is suffering in this process of analysis, condemnation and justification. There is no question of you as an entity that is in sorrow or that is sorrowful. Sorrow is not different from the thinker. The thinker, the feeler, the entity that desires, is itself sorrow. It is not as if he is different from sorrow and he is going to dissolve sorrow. The very process of desire which is energy in action, is a process of frustration, of suffering, of fulfilment, of pain. You are not different from sorrow. That is the whole picture. Is it not? We can enlarge it more verbally, paint it more in detail; but that is the problem. Is it not? You are not different from sorrow and therefore you cannot resolve sorrow. You can't analyze yourself as a separate entity looking at sorrow; nor can you go to the analyser to get it resolved; nor can you escape, put away direct sorrow by energy spent in social activities. Most of our efforts, most of our intentions and our search are for saying `I am different from that which I feel, and how am I to resolve that?'. This is really an important issue not to be easily brushed aside and cunningly replied. You have to look at it though your whole being revolts; because we have been brought up to think that you can operate on it. You are not at all a different entity from your thought or from your desire or your ambition, from the ladder you are climbing, spiritually or sociologically. To understand this problem there must be communion with the whole, and you cannot commune with the whole if you are looking at it partially as you and the object. That is a partial comprehension, partial understanding - which is not at all understanding - if you think you are a different entity looking at the thing which you call sorrow. So, you are the creator of sorrow; you are the entity that suffers; and you are not separate from sorrow, from pain. As long as there is a division between you and suffering, there is only a partial understanding, partial comprehension, partial view of the thing; which means really, that you must put aside all previous explanations; which means, you are face to face, not as two separate processes, but as a unitary process, with the thing that you call sorrow. When you really love there is no barrier; then there is communion. It is not an identification with another; identification does not exist in love. It is only a state of being. Can you look at this problem of sorrow, sorrow not only of the reaction of sympathy, a hope or failure, but also the sorrow that is so enveloping, so deep, so profound that no verbal description can cover it? Can you and I be in full communion with it? We must not make virtue of sorrow, as a means of understanding, a means of progress. Actually what is this sorrow? When you suffer, when your son dies, there is one kind of sorrow; when you see the poor unfed children, that is another kind of sorrow; when you are struggling to reach the top of the ladder and you don't succeed, that is a third kind of sorrow; when you are not fulfilling the ideal, you have sorrow. Surely, sorrow is a process of desire ever increasing, ever multiplying, self-enclosing. Can I understand that whole process of energy in movement as desire and put an end to desire, not to energy? What we know is that energy in action is desire - desire being the `me', the `me' advancing, the `me' fulfilling, the `me' postponing. Can I understand this whole problem of sorrow and desire and thereby put an end to desire as a movement of the `me', and not come back but be in that state of energy which is pure intelligence? It is not a question to be answered `yes' and `no'. It is not a school boy's affair. This needs a great deal of meditation, meditation not in the sense of pitching up your thought to a certain level and holding it - that would be absurdity. We are not discussing meditation here. As I said, this requires a great deal of insight, and you can't have insight if there is any sort of distortion of desire. Energy is pure intelligence; and when once we comprehend that, or let it come into being, then you will see that desire has very little significance. That is our whole problem, is it not?, how to shape the desire, how to mould it sociologically or spiritually. How is the `me' or desire to be shaped for collective use, to be shaped for individual use? How is all this done? As long as desire is not fully comprehended, fully understood, there must be sorrow; because we cannot have the pure reason that will resolve it, the pure intelligence that is necessary for it. Reason can't dissolve sorrow; it can't dissolve desire. Therefore it is necessary to understand the whole problem not by deduction, not by reasoning but by seeing the whole thing, which means, to really love the problem, to really love sorrow. You understand? There are people who love sorrow; but their hearts are empty; instead of loving a man, they love sorrow, which is an ideal. Haven't you seen people who love virtue? They love sorrow be cause they feel good in loving; they feel a certain enthusiastic response, a certain wellbeing. I do not mean that kind of love at all. When you love, there is no identification but there is communion; there is open receptivity between that and you. That is essential to understand this whole problem. As I said, understanding is not a process of time; it is not of time. Don't say `I will understand tomorrow; `I will go', `I will come', `I will be aware more and more'. Understanding has nothing to do with time or process of time, which is thinking. So mind cannot solve the problem of sorrow. So, what can solve it? If you try to understand the problem with your mind, you justify, you condemn, or you identify yourself with it. The mind that can understand the problem fully, is the mind that is not in a state of agitation; the mind that would understand the problem is not seeking a result; it does not want to find an answer; it does not say `I must be free from sorrow in order to experience, in order to have more'. There is no `more'. `More' is the sorrow, which means, the less. So if you can look at it completely, not as `I' or `me' looking observing shaping, destroying, but with a mind to which the observer and the observed are the same, then you will find there comes love that is not sensation, intelligence that is not of time or of thought process; and it is only that, that can resolve this immense and complex problem of sorrow. Question: I have spent ten years of my best life in prison for my political activities which promised great things. Now there is disillusionment, and I feel completely burnt out. What am I to do? Krishnamurti: You may not spend ten years in prison but you may spend a year or two in pursuit of false hope, in pursuit of false activity, in doing something to which you have given your whole being, your whole devotion or thought, and then find it empty. We have done that, have we not? You follow a certain path and action hoping it will bring great things, hoping it will help people, will free people, hoping there will be, at the end of it compassion, love; and you have given your life to it. And then one day, you find it is utterly empty, that is, the thing you have lived for has no meaning any more; you are emotionally burnt out. Don't you know such cases? Are you not one of the cases? Are you not in that position? Have you not had such experience, have you not known that you have followed the path of the Master, the initiator - political or religious, promising an ideal state through revolution - , and you have given out your zeal and energy and your life to it, and at the end you are disillusioned, burnt out emotionally? You work for it and then leave it. But there is another fellow, stupid and ignorant, who comes and fills your place. He carries on, he adds fuel to the useless fire. And if he is burnt out, he walks away and goes out of it. But there is another fellow to take up. And the movement of stupidity goes on in the name of religion, politics, God, peace - call it what you will. Another problem arises, how to prevent the stupid from falling into the useless fray that has no meaning. Societies, organizations, are such empty things, specially the religious; so, what are you to do when you are burnt out? Your elasticity is gone. You are getting old. All the things you are striving for, have no meaning. And either you turn cynical, bitter ; or you remain like a log of dead wood, secluded, in isolation. That is an obvious fact, is it not? All that, we know; there are hundreds of examples; perhaps you are yourself one of them. What is one to do when one is in that state? Can that which is dead, be revived? Can that which is hollow, false, give its life to the false? Can that suddenly come to life and see what it has done, pursue the real, and renew? That is the problem, is it not? Can I who have given the greater part of my life to something which has no meaning - no meaning in the sense that it has no deep, ever lasting significance - , can I who have lost that state, been burnt out, can I find life again, can I find the zeal again? I think I can. When I am burnt out, when I realize I have wasted, instead of becoming bitter if I can see the whole significance of what I have done I have pursued the ideal and how ideal always destroys -because ideal has no meaning, ideal is only self-projection, ideal is only postponement, ideal prevents me from understanding that which is, ideal prevents me from comprehending the whole-; if I can sit quietly, not pulled off in another direction; if I recognize the whole process of what I have done, and see what had led me to false hopes, what awakened all kinds of ambitions in me; if I can see all that without any movement in the other direction, either of justification or condemnation; if I can remain with it, live with it, then there is the possi- bility of reviving. Is there not? Be cause, the mind has pursued some thing which, it hoped, would produce results, utopias, marvels, etc. If the mind realizes what it has done, there is renewal; is there not? If I know I have done a grievous thing, false thing, if I am aware of it, understand it, then surely, that very understanding is light, is the new. But most of us have no patience or wisdom or silent acceptance of that which we have done, without bitterness. All I know is I have wasted my life and I want a new life. I am eager to grasp the new thing. When I am eager to grasp, then I am again lost. Then there is the guru, the political leader, the promise of utopia carrying me away. So, I am back again at the same process as before. But recognizing this process is to be patient, to be aware, to know what I have done, not to attempt anything more. That requires great wisdom. That requires great affection, to know I am not going to participate in any of those things. It does not matter where it will lead me, but I am not going to do that. When we do that, when we are in that state, I assure you there is renewal, new beginning. But I must see that my mind does not create new illusion, new hope. Question: What is meant by `accepting what is'? How does it differ from resignation? Krishnamurti: What is acceptance? What is the process of acceptance? I accept sorrow. What does it mean? I suffer through loss of a friend, brother or son; and there is suffering. The acceptance of that suffering through explanation is resignation, is it not? I say it is inevitable, and the suffering dies; I rationalize, or I turn to Karma, or reincarnation, and I accept. Acceptance is the process of recognition, is it not? Don't define the word but see thy meaning. That is, I accept, in order to be peaceful. I resign myself to an event, to the circumstance, to the incident. I accept them because they pacify me, they put me out of the state of conflict. There is an ulterior motive in resignation, of which I may not be conscious. Deep down, unconsciously, I want to have peace, I want to have satisfaction, I do not want to be disturbed. But loss causes disturbance which we call suffering. And in order to escape from suffering, I explain, I justify and then say `I am resigned to the inevitable, to Karma'. That is the most stupid way, is it not?, of living. But that will not bring about understanding, will it? If I am capable of looking at what is - that is, what has taken place, the death of someone, an incident - , without any mental process, if I can observe it, be aware of it, follow it, be in communion with it, love it, there is no resignation, no acceptance. I shall have to accept the fact. Fact is fact. But, if you can prevent yourself from translating it, interpreting it, giving it justification, putting it in a place that will be suitable for you, if you are aware of that and therefore put it aside naturally, without any effort, then you will see that which is quite different, which is significant. Then it begins to narrowly unfold, begins superficially; but as it begins to unfold, it is more and more; it is like reading a book. But if you have already concluded what the book is about, know the end, you are not reading. Understanding of `what is' can not come about through any justification, condemnation, or identifying yourself with `what is'. We have lost the way of love. That is why all this superficial process exists. Don't ask what love is. You talk all the time of love. What do you mean by it? You can only find out what love is, by negation. As the life we lead is negation, there can be no love. As our life is mostly destructive, the way of our life, the way of our communion is self-enclosing. That which is all embracing can be understood only when the negation has ceased to be. The understanding of `what is' can come when there is complete communion with that which is. Question: For Truth to come, you advocate action without idea. Is it possible to act at all times without idea, that is, without a purpose in view. Krishnamurti: I am not advocating anything. I am not a propagandist, political or religious. I am not inviting you to any new experience. All that we are doing is trying to find out what action is. You are not following me to find out. If you do, then you will never find out. You are only following me verbally. But if you want to find out, if you as an individual want to find out what idea and action are, you have to enquire into it, and not accept my definition or my experience which may be utterly false. As you have to find out, you have to put aside the whole idea of following, pursuing, advocating propagandist, leader or example. Let us therefore find out together what we mean by action without idea. Please give your thought to it. Don't say `I do not understand what you are talking about'. Let us find out together. It may be difficult, but let us go into it. What is our action at present? What do you mean by action? Doing something, to be, to do; our action is based on idea, is it not ? That is all we know; you have idea, ideal, promise, various formulas about what you are and what you are not. That is the basis of our action, reward in future, or fear of punishment, or seeking self-enclosing ideas upon which we can base our action. We know that. Don't we? Such activity is isolating. Watch yourselves in action. Don`t go to sleep over my words. You have an idea of virtue and according to that idea you live - that is, you act in relationship. That is, to you, relationship is action which is towards ideal, towards virtue, to wards self-achievement, so on and so on, collective or individual. When my action is based on ideal which is idea, that idea shapes my action, guides my action - such as, I must be brave, I must follow the example, I must be charitable, I must be socially conscious, and so an. So I say, you say, we all say `There is an example of virtue, I must follow; which means again, `I must live according to that'. So action is based on that idea. So between action and idea, there is a gulf, there is a time process, there is division of time. That is so, is it not? That is, `I am not charitable, I am not loving, there is no forgiveness in my heart; but I must be charitable. There is time between what I am and what I should be, and we are all the time trying to bridge between what I am and what I should be. That is our activity, is it not? Now what would happen if the idea did not exist? At one stroke, you would have removed the gap, would you not? You would be what you are. Have I frightened you all? You say `I am ugly, I must become beautiful; what am I to do?' which is action based on idea. You say `I am not compassionate, I must be come compassionate'. So you introduce idea separate from action. There fore there is never action, but always an ideal of what you will be; never of what you are. The stupid man always says he is going to become clever. He sits working, struggling to become; he never stops, he never says `I am stupid'. So his action which is based on idea, is not action at all. Action means doing, moving. But when you have idea, it is merely ideation going on, thought process going on, in relation to action. And if there is no idea, what would happen? Please follow it through. You are that `Which is'. You are uncharitable, you are unforgiving, you are cruel, stupid, thoughtless. Can you remain with that? If you do, see then what happens. Please follow this. Don't be impatient, don't push it away - now, not tomorrow, actually now when you are facing it - then, what happens? When I recognize I am uncharitable, stupid, what happens, when I am aware it is so? Is there not charity, is there not intelligence, when I recognize uncharitableness completely, not verbally, not artificially, when I realize I am uncharitable and am loving? In that very seeing of `what is', is there not love? Don't I immediately become charitable? Please let us not have your acceptance. Look at it. Go into it. If I see the necessity of being clean, it is very simple; I go and wash. But if it is an ideal that I should be clean, then what happens? Don't you know the answer? Cleanliness is then very superficial. So action based on idea is very superficial, which is not action at all, Which is merely ideation, which is a different kind of action; but we are not discussing that kind of action which is merely thought process going on. But the action which transforms human beings, which brings regeneration, redemption, transformation - call what you will - , such action is not based on idea. It is action irrespective of sequence, reward or punishment. Then you will see such action is timeless, because mind does not enter into it; and mind is time process, calculating process, dividing process, isolating process. This question is not so easily solved. Most of you put questions and expect an answer `yes or no'. It is easy to ask questions like `What do you mean?', and then sit back and let me explain; but it is much more arduous to find out the answer for yourselves, go into the problem so profoundly, so clearly and without any corruption, that the problem ceases to be. And that can only happen when the mind is really silent in the face of the problem. The problem is as beautiful as sunset, if you love the problem. If you are antagonistic to the problem, you will never understand. And most of us are antagonistic because we are frightened of the result, of what may happen if we proceed; so we lose the significance and purview of the problem. January 26, 1952 MADRAS 8TH PUBLIC TALK 27TH JANUARY 1952 It must have occurred to many of us how quickly every thing deteriorates. Great revolutions slaughtering millions with good promises soon deteriorate. They fall into the hands of bad people. Great movements, political and religious, soon wither away. It must have occurred to many of us why it is that this constant process of renewal and decay takes place. Why is it that some thing that has been started by a few people with good intentions, with right motives, is soon usurped by bad people and destroyed? What is this process of withering, this decay? I think if we can answer this question and find out the truth of the matter, then perhaps we as individuals can set about an action which will not utterly wither away. I think we should look to the cause of it, not merely at the superficial level but at the deeper level as well. I think there is a deeper and more fundamental reason why this deterioration takes place so rapidly, and I hope that is one of your problems too. Don't think I am trying to introduce a new problem or I am taking up something to talk about. This must have occurred to you, as it has occurred to me. If you are at all alert, aware of the process in history, in everyday life, you must have observed that some thing is behind this process of deterioration; having observed it, probably you have brushed it aside; or having sacrificed yourself to a cause which soon withers away, you do not know what to do. You must find out what exactly is that which is behind this process of deterioration, this renewal which soon withers away. It seems to me that we should enquire into this whole question; and perhaps there lies the true answer to our problem. In our every day life, we make effort to become. Don't we? All our effort is to be something, to be come, positively or negatively. We see that there is sociological conflict in `becoming', in the individual becoming more and more; and the force behind that `becoming' is ever directed that way. To control individual effort which is self-enclosing, there are social laws; and in order to control the individual religiously, there are religious sanctions; but in spite of these laws and sanctions, deteriorations exist in our effort to be good, to be noble, to be beautiful, to seek truth. Until we really discover for ourselves - not imitatively, not through tradition, not through mere verbal rationalization - that which is behind this process of decay and deterioration, which is apart from our being, there is no end to the world's turmoil. The state of creativeness is very important. I am afraid we shall not be in that state which is so essential to bring about or to maintain a constant state in which there is no deterioration of any kind. Now to go into this matter fully, you must enquire into this process of the experiencer and the experience, because whatever we do contains this dual process. The effort or the will to experience, to acquire, to be or not to be, is always there. The will is the factor of our deterioration; the will to become - individually, collectively, nationally or in different levels of our societies - , the will to be is the important factor. If we observe, we shall find that, in this will, there are the actor and the thing he acts upon. That is, I exert my will to transform or change some thing; I am greedy, and I exert my will not to be greedy; I am provincial, nationalistic, and I exert my will not to be so. I act; that is, I use my will to transform that which I consider evil, or I try to become or keep that which is good. So, there is this dualistic action in will, which is the experiencer and the experience. think that, therein, is the root of our deterioration. As long as I am experiencing, as long as I am becoming, there must be this dualistic action; there must be the thinker and the thought, two separate processes at work; there is no integration, there is always a centre which is operating through the will, of action to be or not to be - collectively, individually, nationally and so on. Universally, this is the process. As long as effort is divided into the experiencer and the experience, there must be deterioration. Integration is only possible when the thinker is no longer the observer. That is, we know at present there are the thinker and the thought, the observer and the observed, the experiencer and the experienced; there are two different states. Our effort is to bridge the two. The will or action is always dualistic. Is it possible to go beyond this will which is separative, and discover a state in which this dualistic action is not? That can only be found when we directly experience the state in which the thinker is the thought. We now think the thought is separate from the thinker, but is that so? We would like to think it is, Sirs, because then, a thinker can explain matters through his thought. The effort of the thinker is to become more or become less; and therefore, in that struggle, in that action of the will, in `becoming', there is always the deteriorating factor, we are pursuing a false process and not a true process. Is there a division between the thinker and the thought? As long as they are separate, divided, our effort is wasted; we are pursuing a false process which is destructive and which is the deteriorating factor. We think the thinker is separate from the thought. When I find that I am greedy, possessive, brutal, I think I should not be all this. The thinker then tries to alter his thoughts, and therefore effort is made to `become; and in that process of effort, he pursues the false illusions that there are two separate processes whereas there is only one process. I think therein lies the fundamental factor of deterioration. Is it possible to experience that state when there is only one entity and not two separate processes, the experiencer and the experience? Then perhaps we shall find out what it is to be creative, and what the state is in which there is no deterioration at any time, in whatever relationship man may be. In all our experiences, there is the experiencer, the observer; and the experiences; or the observer is gathering to himself more and more, or denying himself. Is that not a wrong process and is that not a pursuit which does not bring about the creative state? If it is a wrong process, can we wipe it out completely and put it aside? That can come about only when I experience, not as a thinker experiences, but when I am aware of the false process and see that there is only a state in which the thinker is the thought. I am greedy. I and greed are not two different states; there is only one thing and that is greed. If I am aware that I am greedy, what happens? Then, I make an effort not to be greedy, either for sociological reasons or for religious reasons; that effort will always be in a small limited circle; I may extend the circle, but it is always limited. Therefore the deteriorating factor is there. But when I look a little more deeply and closely, I see that the maker of effort is the cause of greed and he is greed itself; and I also see that there is no `me' and greed, separately existing, but that there is only greed. If I realize that I am greedy, that there is not the observer who is greedy but I am myself greed, then our whole question is entirely different; our response to it is entirely different; then our effort is not destructive. What will you do when your whole being is greed, when whatever action you do is greed? But unfortunately, we don't think along those lines. There is the `me', the superior entity, the soldier who is controlling dominating. To me that process is destructive. It is an illusion and we know why we do that. I divide my self into the high and the low, in order to continue the desire to be secure. If there is only greed, completely, not `I' operating greed, but I am entirely greed, then what happens? Surely then, there is a different process at work altogether, a different problem comes into being. It is that problem which is creative, in which there is no sense of `I' dominating, `I becoming' positively or negatively. We must come to that state if we would be creative. In that state, there is no maker of effort. I think it is not an action of verbalizing or of trying to find out what that state is; if you set about that way, you will lose and you will never find. What is important is to see that the maker of effort and the object to wards which he is making effort are the same. That requires enormously great understanding, watchfulness, to see how the mind divides itself into the high and the low - the high being the security, the permanent entity - but still remaining a process of thought and therefore of time. If we can understand this as directly experiencing, then you will see that quite a different factor comes into being. The Unknown can't be understood by the maker of effort, the will of action. To understand, mind must be completely silent, which ultimately means complete self abnegation; the self which is the maker of effort to `become' positively or negatively, is not there. Question: What makes something I say to another, gossip? Is speaking the truth or speaking good or bad about another, gossip? Can it be gossip so long as what is said, is true? Krishnamurti: Behind this question, there lie many things. First of all, why do you want to speak about another? What is the motive, what is the urge? That is more important to find out. You must know if what you say about another is true. Why do you want to talk about another? If you are antagonistic, your motives are based on violence, hatred; and then, it is bound to be evil; your intention is to give pain to another through your words or through your expression. Why do you talk about another, good or bad, and what is the necessity that urges you to talk about somebody else? First of all, does it not indicate a very shallow and petty mind? If you are really concerned, interested in anything, you should know the time for it, the time to talk about another, however good, noble that another may be, or however stupid or irresponsible he may be. A stupid or shallow mind always wants to have something to talk about, chat or be agitated about. It must either read, acquire, or believe. You know the whole process of being occupied with something. Then the problem arises, how am I to stop gossiping. Both the gossiper and the subject of the gossip, good or bad, about an other, have a kind of relationship to one another; and both he and the man to whom he gossips, have a kind of mutual pleasure, the one to tell and the other to listen. I think it is very important to find out the motives, an not how to stop gossiping. If you can discover the motive and rather keep looking at it directly without any condemnation or justification, then perhaps your mind will begin to discover a deeper level, which consequently makes you put away this gossip, this talking about another. But to discover that motive, that urge, is quite an arduous task. Is it not? First of all, the man or woman who is occupied with gossiping, is so interested in telling about somebody good or bad, that he or she has no time to think. After all, gossip is one of the ways of self-knowledge. Is it not? If you talk about another cruelly, it indicates antagonism, hatred. As you do not want to face your own antagonisms and hatreds, you escape through talk; and if you talk and gossip about another, it is another form of escape from your self. The man who would really understand this whole process of life, must have profound self-knowledge, - not the knowledge which acquire from a book or a psychologist, but direct knowledge we comes through relationship, the relationship which comes as a mirror in which you see yourself constantly, both the pleasant and unpleasant. But that requires earnestness. Very few are earnest and many are petty and stupid. Question: How can individual regeneration alone possibly bring about, in the immediate, the collective well-being of the greatest number, which is the need everywhere? Krishnamurti: We think that individual regeneration is opposed to collective regeneration. We are not thinking in terms of regeneration, but only of individual regeneration. Regeneration is anonymous. It is not `I have redeemed myself'. As long as you think of individual regeneration as being opposed to the collective, then there is no relationship between the two. But if you are concerned with regeneration, not of the individual but regeneration, then you will see there is quite a different force, intelligence, at work; because after all, what are we concerned with? What is the question with which we are concerned, profoundly and deeply? One might see the necessity for united action of man to save man. He sees that collective action is necessary in order to produce food, clothing and shelter. That requires intelligence; and intelligence is not individual, is not of this party or that party, this country or that country. If the individual seeks intelligence it will be collective. But unfortunately, we are not seeking intelligence, we are not seeking the solution of this problem. We have theories of our problems, ways of how to solve them; and the ways become individual and collective. If you and I seek an intelligent way to the problem, then we are not collective or individual; then we are concerned with intelligence that will solve the problem. What is collective, what is mass? You in relationship with another. Is it not? This is not oversimplification; because, in my relationship with you, I form a society; you and I together create a society in our relationship. Without that relation ship, there is no intelligence, there is no cooperation on your side or on my side, that is wholly individual. If I seek my regeneration and you seek your regeneration, what happens? We both of us are pursuing opposite directions. If both of us are concerned with the intelligent solution of the whole problem, because that problem is our main concern, then our concern is not how I look at it or you look at it, not my path or your path; we are not concerned with frontiers or economic bias, with vested interests and stupidity which come into being with those vested interests. Then you and I are not collective, are not individual; this brings about collective integration which is anonymous. But the questioner wants to know how to act immediately, what to do the next moment, so that man's needs can be solved. I am afraid there is no such answer. There is no immediate moral remedy, whatever politicians may promise. The immediate solution is the regeneration of the individual, not for himself but regeneration which is the awakening of intelligence. Intelligence is not yours or mine, it is intelligence. I think it is important to see this deeply. Then our political and individual action, collective or otherwise, will be quite different. We shall lose our identity; we shall not identify our selves with something - our country, our race, our group, our collective traditions, our prejudices. We shall lose all those things because the problem demands that we shall lose our identity in order to solve it. But that requires great, comprehensive understanding of the whole problem. Our problem is not the bread and butter problem alone. Our problem is not feeding, clothing and shelter alone; but it is more profound than that. It is a psychological problem, why man identifies himself. And it is this identification with a party, with a religion, with knowledge, that is dividing us. And that identity can be resolved only when, psychologically, the whole process of identifying, the desire, the motive, is clearly understood. So the problem of the collective or of the individual is nonexistent when you are pursuing the solution of a particular problem. If you and I are both interested in something, is vitally interested in the solution of the problem, we shall not identify ourselves with something else. But unfortunately, as we are not vitally interested, we have identified our selves, and it is that identity that is preventing us from resolving this complex and vast problem. Question: Although you have used the word `Truth' often, I do not recall that you have ever defined it. What do you mean by it? Krishnamurti: You and I as two individuals are going to find this out, not tomorrow but perhaps this evening. If you are very quiet, let us discover it. Definitions are not valuable. Definitions have no meaning to a man who is seeking Truth. The word is not the thing; the word `tree' is not the tree; but we are satisfied with words. please follow this closely. To us, definitions, explanations are very satisfactory because we can live within them. We can pursue words, and words have certain effects on us physically and psychologically. The word `God' awakens all kinds of neurological and psychological reactions, and we are satisfied. So to us, definition is very important. Is that not so? Definition we call knowledge, and knowledge we think is Truth. The more we read about it, the nearer we think we are to it. But the explanation of the word is not the thing. So we have to realize, to understand; we must not be caught by definitions by words. Therefore, we must put aside the word. And how difficult it is, is it not?, because the word is the process of thought! There is no thinking without verbalizing, without using words, images, concepts, formulas. Please follow all this, meditate with me now, to find this out. When the mind perceives that it is caught in words, that the very process of its thinking is word which is memory, how can such a mind - which is memory, which is time, which is caught in definitions and conclusions - , understand what is Truth, what is unknowable. If I would know the unknowable, the mind must be completely silent, must it not? That is, all verbalization, all imagination, all projection must cease. You all know how difficult it is for the mind to be still, not compelled, not disciplined to be still; which means, the mind is no longer verbalizing, no longer recognizing, no longer the centre of recognition of any experience. When the mind recognizes the experience, that experience is projected. When I experience the Master, Truth, God, that experience is self-projected, because I recognize. There is the centre of me which recognizes that experience; that recognition is the process of memory. Then I say `I have seen the Master, I know He exists, I know there is God.' That is, the mind is the centre of recognition, and recognition is the process of memory. When I experience something as God, as Truth, it is my projection, it is recognition, it is not Truth, it is not God. The mind is quite still only when it is incapable of experiencing, that is, when there is no centre of recognition. But that does not come about through any form of action of will. That does not come about through discipline. That comes about when the mind observes its own activities, which I hope you are doing now. And when you observe, you will see how every minute there is the process of recognition going on, and how when you recognize, there is nothing new. Truth is something that is timeless, that is not measurable by words. Since truth is measureless, timeless, mind cannot recognize it. There fore, for Truth to be, it is imperative that the mind should be in a state of non-experiencing. Truth must come to you, the mind, you cannot go to it. If you go to it, you will experience it. You cannot invite Truth. When you invite when you experience, you are in the position of recognizing it; when you recognize it, it is not Truth; it is only your own process of memory, of thought that says `It is so, I have read, I have experienced'. Therefore, knowledge is not the way to Truth. Knowledge must be understood and put away for Truth to be. If your mind is quiet, not asleep, not drugged by words, but actually pursuing, observing the process of the mind, then you will see that quietness comes into being darkly, mysteriously; and in that state of stillness, you will see that which is eternal, immeasurable. Question: There is an urge in every one of us to see God, Reality, Truth. Is not the search for beauty the same as the search for reality? Is ugliness evil? Krishnamurti: Sirs, do realize you cannot seek God. You cannot seek Truth. Because, if you seek, what you will find is not Truth. Your search is the desire to find that which you want. How can you seek something of which you do not know? You seek something of which you have read, which you call Truth; or you are seeking something which inwardly you have a feeling for. Therefore, you must understand the motive of your search, which is far more important than the search for Truth. Why are you seeking, and what are you seeking? You would not seek if you are happy, if there was joy in your heart. Because we are empty we are seeking. We are frustrated, miserable, violent, full of antagonism; that is why we want to go away from that and seek some thing which would be more. Do watch yourselves and realize what I am saying to you, not merely listening to words. In order to escape from your present psychological conflicts, miseries, antagonisms, you say `I am seeking Truth'. You will not find Truth because Truth does not come when you are escaping from reality, from that which is. You have to understand that. To understand that, you must not go to seek the answer outside. So you cannot seek Truth. It must come to you. You cannot beckon God, you cannot go to Him. Your worship, devotion, is utterly valueless because you want something, you put up the begging bowl for Him to fill. So, you are seeking someone to fill your emptiness. And you are interested more in the word than in the thing. But if you are content with that extraordinary state of loneliness without any deviation or distraction, then only that which is eternal comes into being. Most of us are so conditioned, so trained, that we want to escape; and the thing to which we escape, we call beauty. We are seeking beauty through something - through dance, through rituals, through prayer, through discipline, through various forms of formulations, through painting, through sensation. Are we not? So as long as we are seeking beauty through something, through man, woman or child, through some sensation, we shall never have beauty because the thing through which we seek, becomes all important. Not beauty, but the object through which we seek it, becomes all important, and then we cling to that. Beauty is not found through something; that would be merely a sensation which is exploited by the cunning. Beauty comes into being through inward regeneration, when there is complete, radical transformation of the mind. For that, you require an extraordinary state of sensitivity. Ugliness is an evil only when there is no sensitivity. If you are sensitive to the beautiful, denying the ugly, then you are not sensitive to the beautiful. What is important is not ugliness or beauty, but that there should be sensitivity which sees, which reacts to the so-called ugly as well as to the beautiful. But if you are only aware of the beautiful and deny the ugly, then it is like cutting off one arm; then your whole existence is unbalanced. Don't you shut out the evil, deny it, call it ugly, fight it, be violent about it? You are only concerned with the beautiful, you want it. In that process, you lose the sensitivity. The man that is sensitive to both the ugly and the beautiful, goes beyond, far away from the things through which he seeks Truth. But, we are not sensitive to either beauty or ugliness; we are so enclosed by our own thoughts, by our own prejudices, by our own ambitions, greed's, envies. How can a mind be sensitive, that is ambitious spiritually or in any other direction? There can be sensitivity only when the whole process of desire is completely understood; for, desire is a self-enclosing process, and through enclosing, you cannot see the horizon. The mind then is stifled by its own `becoming'. Such a mind can only appreciate beauty through something. Such a mind is not a beautiful mind. Such a mind is not a good mind, it is an ugly mind which is enclosed and is seeking its own perpetuation. Such a mind can never find beauty. Only when the mind ceases to enclose itself by its own ideals and pursuits and ambitions, such a mind is beautiful. January 27, 1952 MADRAS 9TH PUBLIC TALK 2ND FEBRUARY 1952 As I was saying last Saturday the problem of deterioration of the mind is a grave one. It not only affects the older generation but also the young people. This deterioration is a common factor throughout the world. This deterioration is bound to come when there is the exercise of the will in action, the will being the choice between two opposites, the essential and the non-essential, the desire to be or to become. Obviously, the will is a deteriorating factor in our life and most of us would not admit it because we have been brought up through our educational and psychological systems, through our religion and so on, to use the will as a means of achieving, of acquiring, of gaining an end in which is involved the whole process of choosing. Is it not one of the major factors in our life which brings about deterioration, repetition, imitation, conformity of idea? What I would like this evening, if we can experiment, is to go into this whole problem of the mind, mind as a repetitive machine, as a store house of memory, guiding, shaping controlling and therefore producing no creative action, mind as a process of consciousness which when thwarted becomes the `I', the `me'. The self-conscious individual seeks fulfilment and therefore, in the very desire for fulfilment, there is frustration, from which arises sorrow. One of the major factors of deterioration is the process of thought which is repetitive, imitative, conforming; because, we know what happens when we are repetitive, conforming and imitative; the mind becomes merely a machine automatically responding, functioning, reacting according to circumstances, according to memory like a physical machine put together. All that, we know. We do not know any other process. Our thinking is purely repetitive; though we think it is a new idea, a new reaction, it is a process of the past in conjunction with the present. You can only meet the present with the screen, the limitation of the past. So, if you watch your mind, you will see it is conforming, it is repetitive, it is imitating. Here arises the problem of how you listen. Are you listening to me at the verbal level or are you watching what I am saying with what is actually happening in your mental process? Are you merely responding to the verbal vibration or are you watching, which is a stimulation of what I am saying? It is a very important thing that you should go slowly into this matter and as you have got a full hour before you, you can go into it very carefully. If you are watching your own mind using me, using what I am saying, as a mirror and therefore observing, then what I am saying will be of extraordinary significance. But if you are merely listening, then you are imitating; you are merely responding to the words; words create an image and the pursuit of that image is referred to as thinking, which is `I', the `me' stimulating you to observe. There fore that stimulation becomes weary, dull; but whereas if you observe your own thinking in relation to what I am saying, then you will discover whether your mind is merely repetitive or it is something beyond the mechanical quality of a machine. I hope you have understood the point. Have I made myself clear? The question we are discussing is the deteriorating factor of the mind, whether in the old or in the young. This deteriorating factor is observed as we grow older; old age is to most of us a problem, because we see the mind obviously deteriorating. You may not be conscious of it; but others may be conscious of the deterioration in you. The application of the ideal as a means of action is an imitative, repetitive, conforming process like tradition. You may throw off the outward tradition, being forced by the modern economic pressure; but inwardly, you are still following tradition which is repetitive, conforming. So, the problem is: `Is the mind merely a machine incapable of going beyond this mechanical quality, or can the mind be made to be non-mechanical?' That is, we have so far used the mind as a machine to achieve a result, to be something, to gain something, in which process conformity or repetition is essential. If I want to be successful, I must conform, I must repeat, I must imitate. So, we have used the machinery of the mind which is a thought process, as a way of bringing about the desired end. That is, we want to produce a certain end, and we use the thought process as the machine like the one we find in a factory. The machine is the mind; and when we want a result, we use it. In this process, the mind becomes merely repetitive. Is not repetition, imitation, a sign of disintegration, which is observable as we grow older. You can see how old people talk, the same thing over and over again, the same beliefs, the continuity, crystallized, stabilized and held firmly. All these are signs of deterioration. Are they not? Don't ask what would happen to society or what would happen to our relationship if there was no repetition or conformity. We will find that out. A mind that thinks about what will happen if one is not mechanical, is obviously a mind already in the process of deterioration. It is very important for us to go into this matter very care fully and with intelligence, be cause we see more and more how the old people govern the young - not that the young are very much more intelligent, but we are observing the fact. All the government places, all the religious positions and all other high offices are filled by people who are in their sixties and seventies. The perfect bureaucratic machine which the average citizen worships, is made up of these old people. Don't apply this to any particular person, please. I see several of you smiling at the idea of your old leaders or some other particular person being referred to as repetitive. Well, aren't you yourself repetitive? We are discussing, not any individual, but this whole process of repetition and deterioration. Is the mind which is the only instrument we have, merely to be used as a machine, routine-ridden, repeating and conforming? How is the mind to be made non-mechanical? That is, how to remove the factor or factors that bring about deterioration? Surely, this is an important question. Is it not? This seems to me to be one of the gravest issues in the present crisis of our culture - the world culture and not the Madras culture, the whole cultural process - because every sensation, every experience, every problem becomes repetitive. Is it possible for the mind to free itself from this mechanical process? What do we mean by the mechanical process? Is not thought itself, please follow this, a factor of deterioration? We mean by thought a verbalizing reaction to experience. I am not defining, so don't learn the definitions. Is not thought the verbalizing process of memory, the memory being the past in conjunction with the present? Please watch your own mind. Don't listen to me verbally, but watch the process of your thinking. That is what we are discussing. It is not my problem; it is a problem which you and I must solve. Unless we are creative in a wholly different sense, all our education, religious system, political system, civilization, ideas are utterly useless because they contain deteriorating factors. So, it is a problem which you and I must solve; to solve it, we must consider this question of thought. That is the only instrument we have, or that is the only instrument which we are using. If that instrument is not valid in the process of bringing about integrated society, integrated beings, there must be some other means. That is what we are out to discover. As I was saying, is not thought a process which is the continuation of the past modified by the present response? What is our thinking? It is memory in action. Please do not ask what we would do if we had no memory. That is not the problem. If you have no memory, you will be locked up for suffering from amnesia. Our problem is this. Thought is repetitive; the thought process is the result of continued response according to a certain background, which can only produce mechanical results; and therefore it is merely a process of repetition. Can thought be any other factor than deterioration? We think thought will produce a new sensation, a new way of living, a new culture and so on. That is, we think intellect which is thought, is the way of creation. If that is not, then what have we? The mind which is so accustom ed to the thought process, the mind which is thought itself, which is accumulated memory, responding to every experience, observable and non-observable, conscious and unconscious, is certainly repetitive. The whole content of consciousness as we function now, is thus repetitive. I think that is fairly clear. Is it not? When you seek to go beyond the repetitive, you will find that the projection of that thought, that image, is all the outcome of the past, and that which you pursue as the ideal, is the outcome of the past. Therefore, the whole content of consciousness, whether we are conscious of it or not, is a mechanical process. I mean by mechanical process a response of the past conditioned by the present, which is nothing but repetitive. Please do not learn the definition, because definitions are not going to solve the problem. What we have to do is to find out how the mind, how the whole machinery of the mind can be changed so that it is not repetitive. After all, creation at any level, truth, is non-repetitive. So the mind, to recognize the truth, must be non-repetitive. Take a very simple example. You have an experience of the beauty of a flower, or of the sunset, or of the shade of a tree. At the moment of experiencing, there is no recognition; there is only a state of being. As that moment slips away, you begin to give it a name; you say `How beautiful that was!' That is, a process of recognition comes into being, and there is the desire for repetition of that sensation. This is simple and not complicated; just follow it and you will see. I see the tree lit by the evening sun; at that moment there is perception, experience and there is nothing more; it is a state of being which is not describable. Then, as the state of being moves forward, I give it a name and thereby recognize it; and that creates a sensation in me. Then I say `How beautiful, how marvellous that feeling was. I want to repeat that sensation. So, I begin next evening to look at the tree in the evening light, and there is a certain vague sensation that I want it. So, I have set the repetitive machinery going. You watch your own process of mind and you will see the truth of this. You have a beautiful statue in your room, or a picture. The first moment, it gives a great delight; you see something extraordinary and the mind captures it. You then say `I want more of it'. So you sit down in front of the picture or image, and repeat; you hope to repeat that sensation. You have therefore set the mechanical process of the mind going; it is not only at the conscious level, but more profoundly; it brings about conflict, struggle. Our mind is used to routine, repetition, imitation, conformity; and it knows nothing else. If it perceives something, it immediately wants to make it a daily affair. That is clear, is it not? Nobody denies this. This is a psychological, observable fact of our daily existence. Now, how can the mind which is the only instrument we have, not be mechanical? First of all, how few of us have asked this question? Or, how few of us are aware of this whole problem? Now that I put it in front of you and that you are aware of it, what is your response? I observe this whole process, and do I know anything else? I do not, obviously. That is, if I said there was something else, it would still be a process of thought, which is a projection of the past into the present. This is a very complex problem because in this is involved the whole process of naming the giving of symbols and the importance of words, not only neurologically but psychologically, not only at the conscious level but at the deeper level. That is the deteriorating factor. Can the mind which is so much used to function mechanically, stop? This machinery has to be stopped before you can find an answer. If you project the answer either according to Marx or Bhagavad Gita, then you are repetitive and destructive. Can the mind which has been going on for centuries, stop? The `me' is the result of the whole human being, rather, of the whole humankind, and the mind involves the `me'. Can that process of the mind, can that machinery which is so cunning, so devouring, so urgently demanding, so mighty, stop? That is, can it come to an end? If it cannot, you cannot find out the answer. If you use the mind, then you are only continuing thought as a means of achieving something. Please watch it. If you are tired, do not listen. If you are not tired, just watch it. Can the machinery which has been functioning for generations, centuries, can that come voluntarily to an end - not forced, cornered or compelled? If you are compelled, then your response will be one of continuance and there fore of thought. How will the mind come to an end? That is an important question but you do not know how to solve it. The mind must be stopped so that it can jump to the other state. You cannot let it function mechanically and jump. In speculation, it is the past responding, and there is nothing new. A mind that is mechanical, can never find anything new. It must come to an end. Now how is this to be done? Is that the right question? The `how' is important. You are following all this? We know the mind is mechanical. Then the next response is: How am I to stop it? In putting this question, the mind has become mechanical. Do you follow? That is, I want a result, the means is there, and I follow it. What has happened? The `how' is the response of a mechanical mind, the response of the old; and the following or the practicing of the `how' is the continuation of the machine. See how false our thinking has become. We are always concerned with the past, the how, the way, the practice and so on. You see all this process. The `how' is empty, and an enquiring mind really becomes the old repetitive mind through the practice of this `how'. There are two different states of the mind, one pursuing the `how' and the other enquiring and not seeking a result. The mind which enquiries, which pursues in research, will only help us. Enquiry and seeking a result are two entirely different states. Now which is the state of your mind, the one that seeks a result or the one that is enquiring? If you seek a result, you are merely pursuing mechanically; then, there is no end; that leads to deterioration and destruction. That is obvious. Is your mind really enquiring to find out the answer whether the mind can come to an end, not how to make it come to an end? The `how' is entirely different from the `can'. Can it? Have you put that question yourselves? If you have, with what motive, with what intention, with what purpose have you put it? That is very important. If you have put the question `can it?' with the motive that you want a result of which you are conscious, then you are back again in the mechanical process. So, you have to be extraordinarily alert and extremely subtle to answer that question -not to me but to yourself. If you really put the question without the intention to find out what happens, if you enquire, you will find that your mind is not seeking a result, it is waiting for an answer; it is not speculating about a answer; it is not desiring for an answer; it is not hoping for an answer; it is waiting. Look at this. I ask you a question; what is your response? Your immediate response is to think, to reason, to look, to find out a clever argument to reply. Question and response is a daily observable psychological action, verbally and psychologically. That is, you are not answering, you are responding, you are giving what are the reasons; in other words, you are seeking an answer. If you want to find out the answer to a question, the response is mechanical, other than waiting. That is, the mind that waits for an answer to come is non-mechanical, because the answer must be something which you don't know; the answer which you know is mechanical. But if you are faced with the question and you wait for the answer, then you will see your mind is entirely in a different state. Waiting is more important than answer. You stand? Then, mind is no longer mechanical but quite a different process; it is quite a different thing that comes into being without being invited. Question: You said that it is our idea of fear that stands in the way of facing it. How is one to overcome fear? Krishnamurti: First of all, one must be conscious of it, one must be aware of it. Are you? May we try together and experiment? Let us see, in our explaining this thing, whether fear will not completely go away from us. I am going to take you on the journey. If you willingly come, so much the better. If you are willing to come, let us go to the end of it, not stop in the middle of it. We know various forms of fear - fear of public opinion, fear of death of someone, fear of what people will say, fear of losing an object; there are innumerable forms of fear. You ask `How am I to overcome fear'? Can you overcome anything? You know what is meant by overcoming conquering, being on top of it, suppressing it, going beyond it. When you overcome something, you have still again to conquer it, haven't you? So the very process of overcoming is a continuation of constant conquering. You cannot overcome your enemy because, in the very over coming, you strengthen the enemy. That is one factor. We are concerned with understanding fear and seeking the implications of it. We are going to take the journey together. How does fear come into being? Is it the word `fear' or the fact of fear? You understand? Is it the word that is causing me fear, or the fact of some thing in relationship to something else? Which is causing fear? It is not complex, it is very simple if you watch. Am I afraid of the word `fear'? We are going to find out. Now what happens when one is afraid? The obvious reaction is to run away from it in many ways - drink, women, temple, master, beliefs; they are all at the same level, they are no better, no worse. A man who runs away from fear through drink, is as righteous as one who runs away from fear through virtue. Sociologically, it may have different values; but they are all the same, mentally, psychologically. What is the reaction to fear? To escape from it. That is, our reaction to fear is condemnation, is it not?, or justification. Am I really afraid? Do I think of the term `I am afraid of' when I am running away from it? Obviously not. I cannot understand fear if I run away from it, if I justify or condemn it, or even if I identify myself, or say `I am afraid', and reason. So if I am to under stand fear, there must be no escape. And our mind is made up of escapes. So mind is unwilling to face that thing, understand, respond to, discover what is causing fear; and so I run away from it. What is then important, fear or running away from it? What is the most important thing in our life when there is fear? Running away from it, is it not? Not how to dissolve fear, but how to escape from it. I am more concerned with escapes rather than understanding. And can I understand it when I am looking in the other direction? I can look at it when I am completely concentrating about it. Is there any possibility of complete awareness, full concentration of it, when I am all the time dreading it? Obviously not. To understand fear, you don't run away by suppression, domination, by belief, virtue and so on. Then, you are nearer to the fact which is causing you fear. What is your relationship to it? Is it verbal? - verbal in the sense that the mind speculates about it and is afraid of the speculation, the mind foresees and says `if that happens, this will happen; and therefore I am afraid'. So what is your relationship to it? Follow this closely, because on that relationship depends your solution. Are you related to what is causing fear, merely verbally - that is, speculatively - , or are you confronting it without speculation, which is non-verbalization? If you are related to it verbally, you have no direct communication with it, you have escaped from it. If you confront it, you have ceased to run away, there is no escape whatsoever. Let us next consider the relation ship of words and their meaning. Is fear caused by the word or by the fact? Do you understand? The word being the mind, the mind is creating a screen through verbalization and not facing it. So, is fear created by the word - that is, the mind by thinking about it, thought being the process of verbalization? If so, your thought about it is to escape from it. Otherwise, you are facing the fact without verbalization, without thought process, without escape; then you are directly in relationship with it, directly in communion with it. When you are directly in communion with something, what happens? Have you been directly in communion with anything without thought process, have you? Obviously not. When you are, the thing which you have named as fear, has ceased to be. It is these screens, these escapes, this verbalization, this mental process, that create fear, not the fact itself. So these screens between you and the fact are productive of fear, not the fact; there is no overcoming of the fact. If you see the whole process and have followed this step by step, you will see you have no fear. Then, you are observing the fact, and the fact is going to alter, the fact is going to take action and not you in movement towards an escape. Question: How can the thinker and the thought be united? Krishnamurti: The `how' is a school boy's question. But we are going to find out if it is possible to bring together the two separating processes of things at work. First, we know the thinker and the thought are separate. Are we aware of it? To you, the thinker and the thought are two separate entities; and you want to find out if they can be brought together. If the thinker is separate and always dominating thought, thought is always crippled and the thinker is always conquering. There will be no alleviation, there will be constant battle between the thinker and the thought. I want to find out if it is possible for the two to be together so that there is no division, no battle; because I see that it is only when there is no struggle, there is something new. Violence does not produce peace; it is only when violence is not, peace is. Similarly, I have to find out if the thinker and the thought are two separate entities, eternally dividing, never brought together. You and I are going to take the journey of discovering and really experiencing the fact. We know that the thinker and the thought are separate. Most of us have never even thought about it, we take it for granted. It is only when somebody outside of you asks the question, then you are enquiring. I am asking, and therefore you are enquiring, you are taking the journey of enquiry. Taking the journey is understanding of `what is', what is actually taking place, not what you would like, but what actually happens. Why are the thought and the thinker separate? Not that they should not be or must not be, but why are they separate? They are separate because of habit. We have not doubted it; we have accepted it, taken it for granted; therefore, it has become a habit for us. The thinker is separate from his thought and the struggle between the two, the domination of the thinker over the thought, is our daily habit - habit being routine, repetitive. That is a fact, is it not? What would happen if the thinker and the thought were not separate? My mind is used to this habit. What would happen to my mind if this habit stops? The mind would feel lost, would it not? It would be puzzled, bewildered by something unexpected, something new; so the mind prefers to live in habit; so it says `I keep my habit going. I don't know what would happen if these two come together, and I shall prefer the old things to continue'. So you are more interested in the continuation of habit, rather than in enquiring what would happen if they come together. Why do we want the old to continue? For the obvious reason that we want security, certainty, some thing to hold on to; because it is the only thing we know. We are sure of the thinker and the thought. We have not thought of what would happen if they come together. Certainty makes us hold on to the old. That is a psychological fact, an observable fact. Our problem then is not how to bring the thinker and the thought together, but why the mind is seeking security, certainty. Can the mind exist without certainty, without seeking something to which it can hold on -knowledge, belief, what you will? The mind cannot be without the process of security. The mind that we know is secure; it is not interested in finding out; it is interested in being completely safe, completely secure. Why does the mind seek security? Because you realize that thought suddenly changes any moment; there is no actuality in thought; so thought creates the thinker as a permanent entity which will go on indefinitely, so, in the thinker, it has vested interests. And so the mind has found security in the thinker, certainty which is the old habit. Our problem then is whether the mind can ever have security, or is it only an illusion of security to which it clings. The mind has the power to create the illusion of security and clings to it; therefore, so long as it is seeking security, it cannot understand the other. So long as the mind is not interested in discovering what will happen if the thinker and the thought come together, it would hold on to something it is already sure of. So our problem is whether there is security, certainty. Is there? Obviously not - neither in God, nor in wife nor in property which you would want to have. There is no security. Of that you are not convinced; of that, you have had no experience. There is complete loneness without any dependability, without anything on which the mind can rest, hold and cling to. Because the mind is afraid to be alone, it invents the thinker as a permanent entity that will continue. Or if the thinker is not, it would in vent God, or property, or wife, any thing - a tree would do, a stone would do, a carved image. The mind in its desire for security, has created the thinker as separate from the thought, and has accustomed itself to this division by habit; where there is habit there is permanence, and mind becomes mechanical. When you realize, not merely verbally but in actual experience, that the thinker is the result of thought, that it seeks permanency, that it seeks continuity, then you will see there is no effort by the mind to bring the two together. Then there is only a state of understanding, with out any words, without the thought process of the thinker and the thought. For that, you must have an extraordinary insight into the whole process of consciousness which we have been considering this evening, which is the process of meditation. That meditation is only possible when the mind understands the whole content of consciousness, which is yourself. February 2, 1952 MADRAS 10TH PUBLIC TALK 3RD FEBRUARY 1952 As I was saying yesterday, one of the fundamental causes of deterioration is the will in action. I also said that imitation, repetition, the mechanical response of the mind, of memory, is another factor of deterioration of the mind. Is not self-perpetuation one of the major factors that bring about destruction, deterioration of the mind? We see that every religion, every philosophy, even the totalitarian state, desires to destroy the separative process of the mind. No revolution, no outward economic change, or the so-called inward discipline, has in any way destroyed or brought about the ending of the self. I think most of us perceive or are aware that the self must come to an end, not theoretically but actually. One can philosophize over it and speculate about it; most people do it only surreptitiously or with an aggressive purpose like most politicians by whom we are ruled, or like the rich men who control most of our outward economy, or like those who pursue the spiritual path. All of them in different forms, more subtly or more aggressively, pursue self-expansion. Is not that one of the vital factors that destroy the mind? The only instrument we have is the mind. We have used it hitherto, wrongly. Is it possible now to bring to an end this whole process of the self with all its deteriorating factors, with all its destructive elements? I think most of us realize that the self is separative, destructive, antisocial; outwardly and inwardly, it is an isolating process in which no relation ship is possible, in which love cannot exist. We more or less feel this actually or superficially, but most of us are not aware of it. Is it possible to really bring that process to an end, not substitute it for something else, or postpone, or explain it away? As we have seen, mere discipline, mere conformity, does not end the self; it only gives it a vital strength in another direction. Most intelligent people, thoughtful people, must have enquired into this. Apart from religious sanctions, totalitarian compunctions, injunctions and concentration camps, most of us must have asked if the self can really come to an end. When we do put that question to ourselves, the automatic, the natural response is the `how'. How is it to come to an end? So to us, the `how' becomes very important. Only the `how', the practical way, the manner, matters to us. If we can examine a little more closely the whole question of the `how' and its technique, perhaps we shall understand that the `how', the practical way of achieving a result, will not end the self. When we want to know the method of ending the self, the way how to bring it about, what is the process of the mind? Is there the `how', the way of doing, the method, the system? If we do follow the system, does it end the self? Or, does it give strength in another direction? Most of us are anxious, particularly those who are somewhat earnest and religiously inclined, desire to know or find out the method of ending, the way of becoming, the way of achieving a result. If we look deeply into our hearts and mind, it is obvious that we would pursue the method of ending the self, should there be one. Now, why does the mind ask the way, the technique, the method? Is not that an important question? What happens is this. You have a system, a method, the `how', the technique; and the mind shapes after the technique, the pattern. Does that end the self? You may have a very rigorous and disciplining method, or a method that will gradually ease you out of the conflict of self, a method that will give you solace; but essentially, the desire for a method only indicates really the strengthening of the self. Does it not? Please follow this closely and you will see whether or not the `how' indicates a thought process, an imitative process, through which the mind, the self, can gather strength and have greater capacity and not end at all. Take the question of envy. Most of us are envious at different levels, which causes untold misery to others and to ourselves; you have envy of the rich, envy of the learned, envy of the guru, envy of the man who achieves. Envy is the social motive, a drive in our existence. It is clothed sometimes in a religious form but essentially it is the same; it is the desire to be something, spiritually, economically. That is one of our major drives. Is there a method, a means, by which you can get rid of it? Our instinctive response, if we are at all thoughtful, is to find a way to make it come to an end or to bring it to an end. What happens? Can envy be brought to an end by a method, by a technique? Envy implies the desire to be something here or hereafter. You have not tackled the desire which makes you envious; but you have learned a way to cover up that desire by expressing it in another way; but essentially, it is still envy. So, if you can understand this process of how we want a method to achieve a result, and if we also understand the mind that cultivates the technique, we can then see that essentially it is the strengthening of thought. Thought is one of the major factors that bring about deterioration, because thought is a process of memory, which is verbalization of memory and is a conditioning influence. The mind that is seeking a way out of this confusion is only strengthening that thought process. So, what is important is, not to find a way or a method - because we have seen what the implications in it are - , but to be aware of the whole process of the mind. Thought can never be independent; there is no independent thinking, because all thought is a process of conformity to the past. There is no independence or freedom through thinking. How can a mind which is essentially the result of the past, which is conditioned by various memories, climatically, socially and environmentally and so on, how can such a mind be independent? So, if you seek independence of thought, you are only perpetuating the self. What is the process of this independence? Most of us are lonely, and there is a constant craving for fulfilment. Being aware of this emptiness in ourselves, we seek various forms of escapes from it - religious, social; you know the whole business of escapes. As long as we do not solve that problem, the independence that we are seeking in thinking will only be the perpetuation of the self. For most of us, creation is non-existent; we do not know what it means to create. Without that creativeness which is not of time, which is not of thought, we cannot bring about a vitally different culture, a different state of human relationship? Is it possible for the mind to be in that receptive state in which creativeness can take place? Thought is not creative; the man who pursues the idea can never be creative; the pursuit of an ideal is thought process and is conditioned after the mind. So, how can the mind which is thought process, which is the result of time, which is the result of education, of influence, of pressure, of fear, of the search for reward, of the avoidance of punishment, how can such a mind be ever free so that creativeness can take place? When we put that question to ourselves, we want to know the method, the `how', the practical way to achieve that mental freedom. Trying to know the `how', the method, is the most absurd thing and is a school boy's affair. The `how' implies always the method which is the pursuit of thought, the conformity to a particular technique. We see also that only when the mind with its thought process comes to an end, is there creation. Surely, in the present crisis of the world and with the politicians and their cunning exploitations, creation is the most difficult thing to achieve. We do not want more theories, more ideals, more leaders, more and newer techniques, the means of supporting a pattern. The only minds that are creative are those of human beings that are integrated. Is it possible for the mind which is the result of centuries of thought process, ever to be in that creative state? That is, can the thought ever receive, or ever cultivate, that creative urge? It seems to me that is one of the most important things we should ask ourselves, because the mere following of a pattern has not led us anywhere, socially or religiously. No leader can give us the real creative urge; no example can do that; every example is the expansion of the self, the hero is the expansion of the `me' glorified. So is the pursuit of the ideal an expansion of my self, fulfilling of myself in an idea; it is continuation of thought as time, and therefore there is no creative state. I think it is very important to find this out, to be aware how essential it is for each of us to discover for ourselves that creative spirit. The mind can never discover that, do what it will; thought can never understand or bring about that creative state. What is that creative state? Surely it cannot be stated positively. To describe it is to limit it. The description will be a process of measuring; and to measure it is to use a thought process. Obviously it is so. Therefore thought can never capture it. It is of no value to describe it. But what we can do is to find out what are the barriers, by negatively approaching it, obliquely coming upon it. Most of us will object to it, because most of us are accustomed to be direct. `Do this thing and you will get that' is the attitude that governs your approach. What we are discussing is not to describe that state, but to find out what you should do to discover for yourself the impediments that prevent that creative state, that extraordinary state in which the mind, the observer, is non-existent. What is the first thing that stands in the way? Surely, the whole desire to be powerful, to dominate, stands in the way. The desire for power is a process which is separative; though it may be identified with the whole, with a country, or with a group, it is an isolating process. The impediment is the mind which is ambitious at any level - the so-called spiritual ambition, the mind of the politician, of the rich and of the poor man. All these persons desire to have more. The urge for more is the most destructive element that stands in the way. That is very difficult to grasp because the mind is so subtle. You may not seek power in the crude form, but you may seek it as a politician with his excuse of doing things in the interests of the state; or you may be an electioneer. There are different forms of pursuit of power which are all essentially the will to be, the will to be come something, which expresses it self through virtue, through respectability, through the action of the mind, the sense of domination, the pride of having power. So, one of the major factors, major barriers, is this desire for power, this desire for domination. Do watch in your own lives and you will see the separative, the destructive desire in action. That will obviously defeat love. It is only love that is our redemption. But you cannot have love if there is any sense of domination, any sense of the desire for power, position, authority, the will in action, the desire to achieve a result. We know all this. Vaguely we are aware of it also. We are caught in the stream of becoming, in the stream of desire for power; and we are incapable of stopping it and stepping out. To step out, there is no `how'. You see the full implications of power; and when you realize it fully, you step out; there is no `how'. One of the hindrances that prevents creativeness is authority, authority of the example, the authority of the past, authority of experience, authority of knowledge, authority of belief. All these are impediments for a creative state. You do not have to accept what I am saying. You can observe it in your own life; and you will see how belief, knowledge and authority strengthen the separative process of the mind. Obviously, another factor that prevents the creative state is repetition, imitation, perpetuation of an idea. Repetition is not only of sensation but of rituals, vain repetition of the pursuit of knowledge, repetition of experience, which have no significance at all. All these are hindrances. There is no new experience. All experience is a process of recognition. When there is no recognition, there is no experience; and the process of recognition is a process of the mind, which is verbalization. Another factor that divides us from that creative state is this desire for a method, the `how', the way, practicing something so that our mind can achieve a result; this is a process of continuity, repetition; and the mind which is caught in repetition, can never be creative. So, if you can see all that, then you will find that it is the mind actually that is preventing the creative state from coming into being. So when the mind is aware of its own movement, mind comes to an end. It is only then that the creative state can be; it is the only salvation because that creative state is love. Love has nothing to do with sentiment. It has nothing to do with sensation. It is not a product of thought, nor can the mind manufacture it. Mind can only create images, images of sensation, of experience; and images are not love. We do not know what it means though we use that word very freely. But we know sensation; and it is the very nature of the mind to feel sensation, and pursue sensation through images, through words, through every form of conceit. But the mind can never know love; and yet we have cultivated the mind for centuries. It is extremely arduous for the mind to see all this process so that the experiencer is never apart from the experienced. It is this division between the observer and the observed that is the process of thought. In love, there is no experiencer or the experienced. And as we do not know it and as that is the only redemption, surely an earnest man must watch the whole process of the mind, the hidden and the open. That is very arduous. Most of us are wasting our energies through climate, through diet, through idle gossip - I am sorry, there is no idle gossip, there is only gossip - through our envy. We have not the time for enquiry. It is only through meditative search, that we can have awareness of the mind and its content; then, the mind comes to an end and love can be. Question: How is man to fulfil himself if he has no ideals? Krishnamurti: Is there such a thing as fulfilment, though most of us seek fulfilment? We know, we try to fulfil ourselves through family, through son, through brother, through wife, through property, through identification with a country or a group, or through pursuit of an ideal, or through the desire for continuity of the `me'. There are various, different forms of fulfilment at different levels of consciousness. Is there such a thing as fulfilment? What is the thing that is fulfilling? What is the entity that is seeking to be in or through certain identification? When do you think of fulfilment? When are you seeking fulfilment? As I said, this is not a talk at the verbal level. If you treat it at verbal level, then go away; it is a waste of time. But if you want to go deeply, then pursue, then be alert and follow it; because we need intelligence, not dead repetition, not repetition of phrases, words and examples with which we are feed up. What we need is creation, intelligent integrated creation; which means, you have to search it out directly through your own under standing of the mind process. So in listening to what I am saying, relate it to yourself directly, experience what I am talking about. And you cannot experience it through my words. You can experience it only when you are capable, when you are earnest, when you observe your own thinking, your own feeling. When is desire to be fulfilled? When are you conscious of this urge to be, to become, to fulfil? Please watch yourself. When are you conscious of it? Are you not conscious of it when you thwart it? Are you not aware of it when you feel extraordinary loneliness, a sense of inexhaustible nothingness, of yourself not being something. You are aware of this urge for fulfilment only when you feel an emptiness, loneliness. And then, you pursue fulfilment through innumerable forms, through sect, through relationship with property, with trees, with everything at different layers of consciousness. The desire to be, to identify, to fulfil, exists only when there is consciousness of the `me' being empty, lonely. The desire to fulfil is an escape from that which we call loneliness. So our problem is not how to fulfil, or what is fulfilment; because there is no such thing as fulfilment. The `me' can never fulfil; it is always empty; you may have a few sensations when you are achieving a result; but the moment the sensations have gone you are back again in that empty state. So you begin to pursue the same process as before. So the `me' is the creator of that emptiness. The `me' is the empty; the `me' is a self-enclosing process in which we are aware of that extraordinary loneliness. So being aware of that, we are trying to run away through various forms of identification. These identifications we call fulfillments. Actually, there is no fulfilment because mind, the `me', can never fulfil; it is the very nature of the `me' to be self-enclosing. So what is the mind which is aware of that emptiness, to do? That is your problem, is it not? For most of us, this ache of emptiness is extraordinarily strong. We do anything to escape from it. Any illusion is sufficient, and that is the source of illusion. Mind has the power to create illusion. And as long as we do not understand that aloneness, that state of self-enclosing emptiness -do what you will, seek whatever fulfilment you will - there is always that barrier which divides, which knows no completeness. So our difficulty is to be conscious of this emptiness, of this loneliness. We are never face to face with it. We do not know what it looks like, what its qualities are; because we are always running away from it, with drawing, isolating, identifying. We are never face to face, directly, in communion with it. We then are the observer and the observed. That is, the mind, `the I', observes that emptiness; and the I, the thinker, then proceeds to free itself from that emptiness or to run away. So, is that emptiness, loneliness different from the observer? Is not the observer himself empty and not that he observes emptiness? Because, if the observer was not capable of recognizing that state which he calls loneliness, there would be no experi- ence. He is empty; he cannot act upon it, he can do nothing about it. Because, if he does anything what ever, he becomes the observer acting upon the observed, which is a false relationship. So when the mind recognizes, realizes, is aware, that it is empty and that it cannot act upon it, then, that emptiness of which we are aware from outside, has a different meaning. So far, we have approached it as the observer. Now the observer himself is empty, alone, is lonely. Can he do anything about it? Obviously, he cannot. Then his relationship to it is entirely different from that of the relationship of the observer. He has that aloneness. He is in that state in which there is no verbalization that `I am empty'. The moment he verbalizes it or externalizes it, he is different from that. So when verbalization ceases, when the experiencer ceases as experiencing loneliness, when he ceases to run away, then he is entirely lonely, his relationship is in itself loneliness; he is himself that; and when he realizes that fully, surely, that emptiness, loneliness, ceases to be. But loneliness is entirely different from aloneness. That loneliness must be passed to be alone. Loneliness is not comparable with aloneness. The man who knows loneliness can never know that which is alone. Are you in that state of aloneness? Our minds are not integrated to be alone. The very process of the mind is separative. And that which separates knows loneliness. But aloneness is not separative. It is something which is not the many, which is not influenced by the many, which is not the result of the many, which is not put together as the mind is; the mind is of the many. Mind is not an entity that is alone, being put together, brought together, manufactured through centuries. Mind can never be alone. Mind can never know aloneness. But being aware of the loneliness when going through it, there comes into being that aloneness. Then only can there be that which is immeasurable. Unfortunately most of us seek dependence. We want companions, we want friends, we want to. live in a state of separation, in a state which brings about conflict. That which is alone can never be in a state of conflict. But mind can never perceive that, can never understand that, it can only know loneliness. Question: You said that Truth can come only when one can be alone and can love sorrow. This is not clear. Kindly explain what you mean by being alone and loving sorrow? Krishnamurti: Most of us are not in communion with anything. We are not directly in communion with our friends, with our wives, with our children. We are not in communion with anything directly. There are always barriers - mental, imaginary, and actual. And this separativeness is the cause, obviously, of sorrow. Don't say `Yes, that we have read, that we know verbally'. But if you are capable of experiencing it directly, you will see that sorrow cannot come to an end by any mental process. You can explain sorrow away, which is a mental process; but sorrow is still there, though you may cover it up So to understand sorrow, surely you must love it, must you not? That is, you must be in direct communion with it. If you would understand something - your neighbour, your wife, or any relationship - , if you would understand something completely, you must be near it. You must come to it without any objection, prejudice, condemnation or repulsion; you must look at it, must you not? If I would understand you, I must have no prejudices about you; I must be capable of looking at you, not through barriers, screens of my prejudices and conditioning's; I must be in communion with you, which means, I must love you. Similarly, if I would understand sorrow, I must love it, I must be in communion with it. I can not do so because I am running away from it through explanations, through theories, through hopes, through postponements, which are all the process of verbalization. So words prevent me from being in communion with sorrow. Words prevent me - words of explanations, rationalizations, which are still words, which are the mental process - , from being directly in communion with sorrow. It is only when I am in communion with sorrow, I understand it. The next step is: Am I who is the observer of sorrow, different from sorrow? Am I, the thinker, the experiencer, different from sorrow? I have externalized it in order to do something about it, in order to avoid, in order to conquer, in order to run away. Am I different from that which I call sorrow? Obviously not. So I am sorrow, not that there is sorrow and I am different. I am `sorrow'. Then only is there possibility of ending sorrow. As long as I am the observer of sorrow, there is no ending of sorrow. But when there is the realization that sorrow is the me, the observer him self is the sorrow - which is an extraordinarily difficult thing to experience, to be aware of, because for centuries we have divided this thing - ,when the mind realizes it is itself sorrow - not when it is observing sorrow, not when it is feeling sorrow - , it is itself the creator of sorrow, it is itself the feeler of sorrow, it is itself sorrow, then there is the ending of sorrow. This requires, not tradition or thinking, but very alert, watchful, intelligent awareness. That intelligent integrated state is aloneness. When the observer is the observed, then it is the integrated state. And in that aloneness, in that state of being completely alone, full, when the mind is not seeking anything, neither seeking reward nor avoiding punishment, when the mind is truly still, not seeking, not groping, only then, that which is not measured by the mind, comes into being. February 3, 1952 MADRAS 11TH PUBLIC TALK 9TH FEBRUARY 1952 During the past several weeks that we have met, we have been considering the problems that affect our whole being, not at any one particular level but the whole process of consciousness, the way of thinking and the effects that produce the false process of thought. We see that the process of thinking is a deteriorating factor. Perhaps this may be, for those who are here for the first time, rather startling or surprising; or they may think that it is rather an idiotic statement; but those who have been earnestly pursuing these talks, need no further explanations. For, explanations are really detrimental to understanding; we are so easily fed by words; we are so easily satisfied by explanations, by a sound sensation; the oft-repeated explanation, or the word is sufficient to make the mind dull. So, those who have carefully and somewhat seriously followed these talks will, I think, have observed or be aware that thinking, as we now practice it, indulge in it, is one of the major factors that divide man from man; it is one of the factors that bring about no action that postpone action; because ideas are the result of thought and they can never produce action. There is a gap between idea and thought, and our difficulty is to bridge the gap into which we have fallen. I would like to discuss or consider this evening this question of self-deception, the delusions that the mind indulges in and imposes upon itself and upon others; that is a very serious matter, especially in a crisis of this kind which the world is facing. But in order to understand this whole problem of self-deception, we must follow it, not merely verbally, not at the verbal level, but intrinsically, fundamentally and deeply. As I was saying, we are too easily satisfied with words and counter-words; we are worldwise; and being world wise, all that we can do is to hope that something will happen. We see that the explanation of war does not stop war; there are innumerable historians, theologians and religious people explaining war and how it comes into being; but wars still go on, perhaps more destructive than ever. Those of us who are really earnest, must go beyond the word, must seek this fundamental revolution within oneself; that is the only remedy which can bring about a lasting, fundamental redemption of mankind. Similarly, when we are discussing this kind of self-deception, I think we should guard ourselves against any superficial explanations and rejoinders; we should, if I may suggest, not merely listen to a speaker, but follow the problem as we know it in our daily life; that is, we should watch ourselves in thinking and in action, watch ourselves how we affect others and how we proceed to act from ourselves. What is the reason, the basis, for self-deception? How many of us are aware actually that we are deceiving ourselves? Before we can answer the question `What is self-deception and how does it arise?', must we not be aware that we are deceiving our selves? Do we know that we are deceiving ourselves? What do we mean by this deception? I think iL is very important; because the more we are deceived, the more we deceive ourselves, the greater is the strength in the deception which gives us a certain vitality, a certain energy, a certain capacity which entails the imposing of my deception on others. So, gradually I am not only imposing deception on myself but on others. It is an interacting process of self deception. Are we aware of this process because we think we are very capable of thinking clearly, purposefully and directly. Are we aware that, in this process of thinking, there is self-deception? Is not thought itself a process of search, a seeking of justification, seeking security, self-protection, a desire to be well thought of, a desire to have position, prestige and power? Is not this desire to be, politically or religious-sociologically, the very cause of self-deception? The moment I want something other than the purely materialistic, do I not produce, do I not bring about, a state which easily accepts? Take for example this: I want to know what happens after death, which many of us are interested in - the older we are, the more interested we are. We want to know the truth of it. How will we find it? Certainly not by reading, nor through the different explanations. Then, how will you find it out? First, you must purge your mind completely of every factor that is in the way - every hope, every desire to continue, every desire to find out what is on that side. Because, the mind is constantly seeking security, it has the desire to continue, and hopes for a means of fulfilment, for a future existence. Such a mind, though it is seeking the truth of life after death, reincarnation or whatever it is, is incapable of discovering that truth. Is it not? What is important is, not whether reincarnation is true or not, but how the mind seeks justification, through self-deception, of a fact which may or may not be. So, what is important is the approach to the problem, with what motivation, with what urge, with what desire you come to it. The seeker is always imposing upon himself this deception; no one can impose it upon him; he himself does it. We create deception and then we become slaves to it. So, the fundamental factor of self-deception is this constant desire to be something in this world and in the world hereafter. We know the result of wanting to be something in this world; it is utter confusion where each is competing with the other, each is destroying the other in the name of peace; you know the whole game we play with each other, which is an extraordinary form of self-deception. Similarly, we want security in the other world, a position. So, we begin to deceive ourselves the moment there is this urge to be, to become or to achieve. That is very difficult for the mind to be free from. That is one of the basic problems of our life. Is it possible to live in this world and be nothing? Because, then only there is freedom from all deception, because then only the mind is not seeking a result, the mind is not seeking a satisfactory answer, the mind is not seeking any form of justification, the mind is not seeking security in any form, in any relationship. That takes place only when the mind realizes the possibilities and subtleties of deception, and therefore, with understanding, the mind abandons every form of justification, security - which means, the mind is capable then of being completely nothing. Is that possible? Surely as long as we deceive ourselves in any form, there can be no love. As long as the mind is capable of creating and imposing upon itself a delusion, it obviously separates itself from collective or integrated understanding. That is one of our difficulties; we do not know how to cooperate; all that we know is to work together towards an end which both of us bring into being. Surely, there can be cooperation only when you and I have no common aim created by thought. Go slowly with me because I see several people are not following me. What is important to realize is that cooperation is only possible when you and I do not desire to be anything. When you and I desire to be something, then belief and all the rest of it become necessary, a self-projected utopia is necessary; but it you and I are anonymously creating without any self-deception, without any barriers of belief and knowledge, without a desire to be secure, then there is true cooperation. Is it possible for us to cooperate, for us to be together without an end, without a result, which you and I are not seeking? Can you and I work together without seeking a result? Surely that is true cooperation. Is it not? If you and I think out, work out, plan out a result, and we are working together towards that result, then what is the process involved in it? Our minds are meeting, our thoughts, our intellectual minds are of course meeting; emotionally, the whole being may be resisting it, which brings about deception, which brings about conflict between you and me. It is an obvious and observable fact in our every day life. You and I agree to do a certain piece of work intellectually; but unconsciously, deeply, you and I are at battle with each other; I want a result to my satisfaction; I want to dominate; I want my name to be ahead of yours though I am said to be working with you. So, we both who are creators of that plan, are really opposing each other, even though outwardly you and I agree as to the plan; inwardly, we are at battle with each other, though consciously we may agree. So, is it not important to find out whether you and I can cooperate, commune, live together in a world where you and I are nothing; whether we are able really and truly to cooperate, not at the superficial level but fundamentally? That is one of our greatest problems, perhaps the greatest. I identify myself with an object and you identify your self with the same object; both of us are interested in it; both of us are intending to bring it about. Surely, this process of thinking is very superficial, because through identification, we bring about separation - which is so obvious in our every day life. You are a Hindu and I a Catholic; we both preach brotherhood and we are at each other's throats. Why? That is one of our problems, is it not? Unconsciously and deeply, you have your beliefs and I have mine. By talking about brotherhood, we have not solved the whole problem of beliefs, but we have only theoretically and intellectually agreed that this should be so; inwardly and deeply, we are against each other. Until we dissolve those barriers which are a self-deception, which give us a certain vitality, there can be no cooperation between you and me. Through identification with a group with a particular idea, with a particular country, we can never bring about cooperation. Belief does not bring about cooperation; on the contrary, it divides. We see how one political party is against another, each believing in a certain way of dealing with the economic problems, and so they are all at war with one another. They are not resolved in solving the problem of starvation, for instance. They are concerned with the theories which are going to solve that problem. They are not actually concerned with the problem itself but the method by which the problem will be solved. So, there must be contention between the two, because they are concerned with the idea and not with the problem. Similarly, religious people are against each other though they verbally say they have all one life, one God; you know all that. But inwardly, their beliefs, their opinions, their experiences are destroying them and are keeping them separate. So, experience becomes a dividing factor in our human relationship; experience is a way of deception. If I have experienced something, I cling to it; I do not go into the whole problem of the process of experiencing; but because I have experienced, that is sufficient and I cling to it and thereby I impose, through that experience, self-deception. So, our difficulty is that each of us is so identified with a particular belief, with a particular form or method in bringing about happiness, economic adjustment, that our mind is captured by that and we are incapable of going deeper into the problem; therefore, we desire to remain aloof individually in our particular ways, beliefs and experiences. Until we dissolve and understand them, not only at the superficial level but at the deeper level, there can be no peace in the world. That is why it is important for those who are really serious, to understand this whole problem - the desire to become, to achieve, to gain - not only at the superficial level but fundamentally and deeply; other wise, there can be no peace in the world. Truth is not something to be gained. Love cannot come to those who have a desire to hold on to it or who like to become identified with it. Surely such things come when the mind does not seek, when the mind is completely quiet, when the mind is no longer creating movements and beliefs upon which it can depend or from which it derives a certain strength, which is an indication of self-deception. it is only when the mind understands this whole process of desire, can the mind be still. Only then, the mind is not in movement to be or not to be; then only is there the possibility of a state in which no deception of any kind is possible. Question: One starts with good will and the desire to help; but unfortunately, to help constructively, one joins various organizations, political or religious-sociological. Presently, one finds oneself cut off from all goodness and charity. How does this happen? Krishnamurti: Can we think out the problem now together? That is, don't merely listen to me explaining the question, but observe yourself in action in daily life. Most of us, especially if we are young and still sensitive and impressionable, want to do something about this world with its misery and starvation. As we grow older, unfortunately, that sensitivity gets dull. Being sensitive, desiring to do good, being compassionate, you see all this misery, the village next door, hunger, squalor, every form of desire, corruption; and you want to do some thing. So, you look around. Then what happens? You go to various meetings of the extreme left, middle or of the right, or pick up a religious book and try to solve the problem. If you are religiously inclined, you explain it away - Karma; reincarnation, growth, evolution, `It is so' or `It is not so', and so on. But if you are politically mindful of it, then you attend various meetings; the more left promise immediate results; they show what can be done immediately; they are completely adhering to a particular idea, particular concept, particular formula; they keep photographs of what they have done or what they will do and they have all their literature; all that convinces you more than what others say, and so you are caught in it. You start out wanting to do good with a certain compassionate desire to bring about a result, and you end up in a political organization which promises a future reward, a future utopia. You who are so eager to bring about a result, join the organization; your eagerness has gone into political activity, into an idea and not immediate action but a future through certain ideological methods, practices and discipline and so on. You are concerned then more with the method, with the party, with the group, with the particular dialectical ideas and so on, rather than with how you should act now to produce a change. Have we not introduced deception, a postponement, a forgetfulness, a deception not of the problem, of the evil that creates the problem, but the deception of the opposing parties which prevents us from doing anything? The result is that we have lost goodness, we have lost charity, we are cut off from all that, from all the source of compassion and love. We call this immediate action. That is the case with most of us. Is it not? We join groups, we join societies hoping something good will come out of it; and soon we are lost in beliefs, in contention, in ambitions, in appalling stupidities. The difficulty with most of us is that we are cut off; we are in the midst of the society, the group, the political party; we are all prisoners, and it is so difficult to break away, because the parties, the groups, the religious organizations have the power to excommunicate you; they threaten you because they have the power, economic and psychological power, and you are at their mercy; you have committed yourself, and your interests are with them, both psychologically and economically. It requires a great deal of understanding to break away from all this. No one will help us because every body believes something and has committed himself to something or other. Being caught in all this one grows old; then there is despair and tragedy, and one accepts it as the inevitable. Is it possible to see this whole total process of how goodness, charity, love, are destroyed by our stupidity because we are all so eager to do some thing? The very desire, to want to do something, brings about self-deception. We have not the patience to wait, to look, to observe, to know more deeply. The very desire to be active in doing good is a deception because the clever man is waiting there to use your goodness, your desire to help; we give ourselves over to him, to be exploited, to be used. Is it not possible to look at all this, be aware of the whole content of this problem, and to break away, not theoretically but actually, face the problem so as to revive again that pristine goodness, that sense of being intimate with people, which is really being in a state of love? That is the only way to act. When there is love, that will bring about an extraordinary state, an extraordinary result, which you and I cannot plan to produce, cannot think out. All the clever people have planned, thought out; look at what is happening; they are at each others' throats, each destroying the other. Seeing this whole problem, those who are serious have obviously to break away. In the very breaking is the renewal; in the very seeing is the action which is not idea first and action afterwards. Question: Why do you say that knowledge and belief must be suppressed for truth to be? Krishnamurti: What is your know ledge and what is your belief? Actually when you examine your knowledge or your belief, what is it? Memories, are they not? What have you knowledge of? Of your past memories, knowledge of other peoples' experiences written down in a book! Actually when you think about your knowledge, what is it? It is past memory; you are acquiring certain explanations from others, and you have your own experiences based upon your memories. You meet an incident and you translate that incident according to your memory which you call experience. Your knowledge is a process of recognition. We know what beliefs are. They are created by the mind in its desire to be certain, to be safe, to be secure. So, how can such a mind, crippled with knowledge which is the accumulation of the past translating the present in terms of its own convenience, how can such a mind burdened with such knowledge, understand what truth is? Truth must be something beyond time. It cannot be projected by my mind; it cannot be carved out of my experience; it must be something unknowable from my past experience. If I know it is from the past, I recognize it. therefore it is not true. If it is merely a belief, then it is a projection of my own desires. Why are we so proud of our knowledge? We are enclosed in our beliefs, in the state of knowledge in the sense it is understood commonly. You are afraid to be nothing. That is why you put so many titles; you give your selves names, ideas, reputation, a vulgar show. With all this burden on your mind, you say `I am seeking truth, I want to understand the truth'. When you closely examine the whole process of acquisition of knowledge and the erection of belief, what happens? Surely, you see that they are the tricks of the mind, to believe, to know; because they give you a certain prestige, certain powers; people respect you as an extraordinary man who has read so much and who knows so much. As you grow older, you demand more respect because you have grown in wisdom, at least you think so; all that you have done is to be ripened in your own experience. Belief destroys human beings, separates human beings. A man who believes, can never love; because to him belief is greater than being kind, gentle, thoughtful; belief gives a certain strength, a certain vitality, a false sense of security. So, when you examine this whole thing, what have you? Nothing but words, nothing but memory. Truth is something that must be beyond the imagination, beyond the process of the mind. It must be eternally new, a thing that cannot be recognized, that cannot be described. When you quote what Sankara, Buddha, X Y Z has said, you have already begun to compare - which shows that through comparison you have stopped thinking, feeling, experiencing. That is one of the tricks of the mind. Your knowledge is destroying the immediate perception of what is truth. That is why it is important to understand this whole process of knowledge and belief and to put them away. Be simple, see these things simply, not with a cunning mind. Then you will see the mind which has acquired so much experience, so many explanations. which is bound by so many beliefs, itself becoming new. Then the mind is no longer seeking the new, it is no longer recognizing, it has ceased to recognize; and there fore, it is in a state of constant experiencing, not in relation to the past; there is a new movement which is not repeatable. That is why it is important that all knowledge, all belief, should be understood. You can't suppress knowledge; you have to understand it; you can't lock the door on knowledge. Now what is your reaction? You will go away from here and proceed in the same old manner because you are afraid to move from the old pattern. To find the truth there is no guru, there is no example, there is no path; virtue will not lead to truth; practice of virtue is self-perpetuation. Knowledge obviously leads only to respectability. That man who is respectable and enclosed by his own importance will never find truth. The mind must be completely empty, not seeking, not projecting. It is only when the mind is utterly still, that there is possibility of that which is immeasurable. Question: What is the relationship between what the psychologists call intuition and what you call understanding? Krishnamurti: Don't let us bother about what the psychologists say. What do you mean by intuition? We use that word. Don't we? I have used the word `understanding' very often. Let us find out what it means. What do we mean by intuition? Don't introduce what other people say. You use that word intuition. What is an intuitive feeling? Whether it is right or wrong, you have a feeling that it must be so or it must not be so. By intuitive feeling, we mean a feeling that is not rationalized, that is not very logically thought out, a feeling which you subscribe to beyond the mind, which you call a flash from higher consciousness. We are not seeing if there is intuition or not, but we want to find out the truth of it. First of all, it is very easy to deceive oneself. Is it not? I have an intuitive feeling that reincarnation is true. Don't you have it? Not because you have read about it, but you have a feeling about it; your intuition says so and you grant it. I am only taking that as an example; we are not considering the truth of the matter whether there is or there is not continuity. Now, what is involved in the intuitive feeling? Your hope, your desire, continuity, fear, despair, feeling of emptiness, loneliness, all these are driving you; all these urge you to hold on to the idea of reincarnation. So, your own desire unconsciously projects that intuitive feeling. Without understanding this whole process of desire, you cannot depend on intuition which may be extraordinarily deceptive. In some cases, in tuition is deceptive. Don't talk about scientists having intuitive perception of a problem; you are not scientists. We are just ordinary people with our every day problems. The scientists work impersonally about a mathematical problem; they work at it, work at it, can't see an answer and then let it go; as they work, they suddenly see the answer; and that is their intuition. But we don't tackle our problems that way. We are too intimate with our problems; we are confined, limited by our own desires; and our own desires dictate, consciously or unconsciously, the attitude, the response, the reaction. We use the word `intuition' in this connection. Understanding is the whole perception of the problem; which is, understanding the desire and the ways it acts. When you understand, you will see there is no entity as the examiner who is looking at the examined problem. This understanding is not in tuition. This understanding is the seeing of the process how the desire works, entirely, not just at the superficial level; it is going completely into the thing, in which every possibility of deception is revealed. Understanding is an integrated process, whereas intuition, as we use it, is departmental. The latter operates occasionally; the rest of the time, we are all stupid. What is the good of having such intuition? One moment, you see things clearly; and for the rest of the time, you are just the old stupid entity that you were. Understanding is an integrated process, functioning all the time; and that comes into being when we are aware of the total process of desire. Question: You say that life, as we live, is negation and so there cannot be love. Will you please explain? Krishnamurti: Why do you want my explanation? Don't you know this? Are our lives very creative, very positive? At least we think we are positive. But the result is negation. We are very positive in our greed, in our hatreds, in our envy, in our ambition. We know that. Don't we? Class division, communal division, natural divisions, every form of destruction, separation, isolation -all these are there. Our life, though it appears positive, is actually a negation because it leads to death, destruction, misery. You will not accept that because you will say `We are doing everything positive in this world; we can't live in a state of negation'. But what you are doing is a negative act. Whatever you are doing is an act of death. How can such an activity be anything but negation? If you are ambitious, you are destructive, corrupting, corroding in your relationships; Every act of yours is a negative act. How can a mind whose whole existence is a series of negation, know love? Then you ask me what love is. Imitation is death; yet, we have examples which we want to follow, we have power; we have gurus; we follow the process of repetition, imitation, routine -which is what? Death, abnegation! Is it not? How can such a thing comprehend any thing? Such an entity can't know love. The only thing that is positive is love. That comes into being only when the negative state is not, when you are not ambitious, when you are not corrupt, when you are not envious. First you must recognize that which is, and in understanding that which is, the other comes into being. February 9, 1952 MADRAS 12TH PUBLIC TALK 10TH FEBRUARY 1952 This is the last talk of the series. There won't be any more talks after this meeting is over, at least for the time being. Most of us, I think, are aware that every form of persuasion, every kind of inducement, has been offered us to resist self-centred activities. Religions, through fear, through promises, through fear of hell, through every form of condemnation, have tried in different ways to dissuade man from this constant activity that is born from the centre of the `me'. These having failed, political organizations have taken over. There again, persuasion; there again the ultimate utopian hope. Against any form of resistance, concentration camps and every form of legislation, from the extreme to the very limited, have been used and enforced; and yet, we go on in our self-centred activity. That is all we know. If we at all think about it, we try to modify; if we are aware of it, we try to change the course of it; and fundamentally, deeply, there is no transformation, there is no radical cessation of that activity. We know this. At least, the thoughtful are aware of this; they are also aware that when that activity from the centre ceases, only then can there be happiness. Most of us are not aware of this. We take it for granted that it is natural, and that the consequential action is inevitable, only to be modified, controlled and shaped. Now, those who are a little more serious, more earnest, not sincere - because sincerity is the way of self-deception and therefore is out of the question - must find out how one, being aware of this extraordinary total process of self-centred activity, can go beyond. To understand what this self centred activity is, one must obviously examine it, look at it, be aware of this entire process. If one can be aware of it then there is the possibility of its dissolution; but to be aware of it requires a certain understanding, a certain intention to face the thing as it is, to look at the thing as it is, and not to interpret it, not to modify it, not to condemn it. We have to be aware of that activity which we are doing from that self-centred state; we must be conscious of it. That is one of our primary difficulties because the moment we are conscious of that activity, we want to shape it, we want to control it, we want to condemn it, or we want to modify it; but we are never in a position to look at it directly; and when we do, very few of us are capable of knowing what to do. We realize that self-centred activities are detrimental, are destructive and that every form of self-centred activity - such as that of identification with the country, with a particular group, with a particular desire, with desires that produce action, the search for a result here or hereafter, the glorification of an idea, the pursuit of example, worship of virtue and the pursuit of virtue and so on - is essentially the activity of a self-centred person. All his relationships with nature, with people, with ideas are the outcome of that activity. Knowing all this what is one to do? All such activity must voluntarily come to an end, not self-imposed, not influenced, not guided. I hope you see the difficulty in this. Most of us are aware that this self centred activity creates mischief and chaos; but we are only aware of it in certain directions. Either we observe it in others and are ignorant of our own activities; or being aware, in relationship with others, of our own self-centred activity, we want to transform, we want to find a substitute, we want to go beyond. Before we can deal with it, we must know how this process comes into being. Must we not? In order to understand something, we must be capable of looking at it; and to look at it, we must know its various activities at different levels, conscious as well as unconscious, and also the conscious directives, the self-centred movements of the unconscious motives and intentions. Surely, this is a self-centred process, the result of time. Is it not? What is it to be self-centred? When are you conscious of being the `me'? As I have suggested often during these talks, don't merely listen to me verbally but use the words as a mirror in which you see your own mind in operation. If you merely listen to my words, then you are very superficial and your reactions will be very superficial; but if you can listen, not to understand me or what I am saying, but to see yourself in the mirror of my words, if you use me as a mirror in which you discover your own activity, then it will have a tremendous and profound effect; but if you merely listen as in political or any other talks, then I am afraid you will miss the whole implication of the discovery for your self of that truth which dissolves the centre of the `me'. I am only conscious of this activity of the `me' when I am opposing, when consciousness is thwarted, when the `me' is desirous of achieving a result. The `me' is active, or I am conscious of that centre, when pleasure comes to an end and I want to have more of that pleasure; then there is resistance and there is a purposive shaping of the mind to a particular end which will give me a delight, a satisfaction; I am aware of myself and my activities when I am pursuing virtue consciously. That is all we know. A man who pursues virtue consciously is unvirtuous. Humility cannot be pursued and that is the beauty of humility. So, as long as this centre of activity in any direction, conscious and unconscious, exists, there is this movement of time, and I am conscious of the past and the present in conjunction with the future. The centre of this activity, the self-centred activity of the `me', is a time process. That is what you mean by time; you mean the psychological process of time; it is memory that gives continuity to the activity of the centre which is the `me'. Please watch yourselves in operation; don't listen to my words or be mesmerized by my words. If you watch yourself and are aware of this centre of activity, you will see that it is only the process of time, of memory, of experiencing and translating every experience according to memory; you also see that self-activity is recognition, which is the process of the mind. Now can the mind be free from it? That may be possible at rare moments; that may happen to most of us when we do an unconscious, unintentional, un-purposive act. Is it possible for the mind ever to be free from self-centred activity? That is a very important question first to put to ourselves, because in the very putting of it, you will find the answer. That is, if you are aware of the total process of this self-centred activity, fully cognizant of its activities at different levels of your consciousness, then surely you have to ask yourselves if it is possible for that activity to come to an end - that is, not to think in terms of time, not to think in terms of what I will be, what I have been, what I am. From such thought, the whole process of self centred activity begins; there also begin the determination to become, the determination to choose and to avoid, which are all a process of time. We see, in that process, infinite mischief, misery, confusion, distortion, deterioration taking place. Be aware of it as I am talking, in your relationship, in your mind. Surely the process of time is not revolutionary. In the process of time, there is no transformation; there is only a continuity and no ending. In the process of time, there is nothing but recognition. It is only when you have complete cessation of the time process, of the activity of the self, is there the new, is there revolution, is there transformation. Being aware of this whole total process of the `me' in its activity, what is the mind to do? It is only with the renewal, it is only with the revolution - not through evolution, not through the `me' becoming, but through the `me' completely coming to an end -there is the new. The time process can't bring the new; time is not a way of creation. I do not know if any of you have had a moment of creativity, not action - I am not talking of putting something into action - I mean that moment of creation when there is no recognition. At that moment, there is that extraordinary state in which the `me', as an activity through recognition, has ceased. I think some of us have had it; perhaps, most of us have had it. If we are aware, we will see in that state that there is no experiencer who remembers, translates, recognizes and then identifies; there is no thought process which is of time. In that state of creation, creativity, or in that state of the new which is timeless, there is no action of the `me' at all. Now, our question surely is: Is it possible for the mind to experience, to have that state, not momentarily, not at rare moments but - I would not use the word `everlasting' or `for ever', because that would imply time - to have that state, to be in that state without regard to time? Surely, that is an important discovery to be made by each one of us, because that is the door to love; all other doors are activities of the self. Where there is action of the self, there is no love. Love is not of time. You can't practice love. If you do, then it is a self-conscious activity of the `me' which hopes through living to gain a result. So, love is not of time; you can't come upon it through any conscious effort, through any discipline, through identification, which are all a process of time. The mind, knowing only the process of time cannot recognize love. Love is the only thing that is new, eternally new. Since most of us have cultivated the mind which is a process of time, which is the result of time, we do not know what love is. We talk about love; we say we love people, love our children, our wives, our neighbour; we say we love nature; but the moment I am conscious that I love, self- activity has come into being; therefore it ceases to be love. This total process of the mind is to be understood only through relation ship - relationship with nature, with people, with our own projection, with everything. In fact, life is nothing but relationship. Though we may attempt to isolate ourselves from relationship, we cannot exist without relationship; though relationship is painful from which we try to run away through isolation by becoming a hermit and so on, we cannot do that. All these methods are an indication of the activity of the self. Seeing this whole picture, being aware of this whole process of time as consciousness, without any choice, with out any determined, purposive intention, without the desire for any result, you will see that this process of time comes to an end voluntarily. not induced, not as a result of desire. It is only when that process comes to an end, that love is, which is eternally new. We do not have to seek truth. Truth is not something far away. It is the truth of the mind, truth of its activities from moment to moment. If we are aware of this moment-to moment truth, of this whole process of time, this awareness releases consciousness or that energy to be. As long as the mind uses consciousness as the self activity, time comes into being with all its miseries, with all its conflicts, with all its mischiefs, its purposive deceptions; and it is only when the mind, understanding this total process, ceases, that love will be. You may call it love or give it some other name; what name you give, is of no consequence. Question: How can one know if one is deceiving oneself? Krishnamurti: How do you know anything? What is the process of knowing? Please follow this and you will soon find out whether you are deceiving yourself or not. That is, if you are earnest in your question, you can find out. You want to know when you are deceiving yourself. Now, what do we mean by deceiving? When do you know? When you are interpreting, is it not? You only know when you recognize, when there is the interpretation process going on, when you are experiencing and translating that experience; then you say `I know'. As long as there is the process of recognition, there is knowing. What do we mean by self-deception? When do we deceive ourselves, consciously or unconsciously? Most of us, though we deceive ourselves, are totally unaware that this process is going on. We may be superficially aware, aware at the superficial levels of consciousness of the word; we may be aware of the self-deception in a vague way. But that will not do. We must know that at all levels, fundamentally. That is rather difficult. We must enquire, we must find out, we must search and understand what we mean by deception. When do we deceive ourselves, delude our selves? Only when there is an imposition on ourselves or on others. That word `delusion' surely implies that. Does it not? Imposing a certain experience on others or being attached to that experience, which is the imposing of that experience on ourselves. What I am saying is not difficult to follow. If you go step by step, it is quite simple. Self-deception exists as long as I am trying to impose an experience on others or on my self, as long as I am translating an experience through attachment or through identification or through the desire to convince another. So self-deception is a process of time. It is an accumulated process. `I have had an experience as a boy and I want that experience to conti- nue. I am convinced that experience as a lad is true and I want to convince you of it, because I have experienced it and I hold on to it; that is how we know. So, the knowing which is the interpretation of experience, brings about self-deception which is a process of time. Don't you know when you are deceiving yourselves? Don't you know it? There is a fact and you translate that to suit your own vested interests, your own likes and dislikes; and immediately, there has begun self-deception. When you are incapable of facing a fact and are translating that fact in terms of your memory, immediately self-deception has begun. I have a vision which I translate and to which I hold on; there is the experience which I translate according to my like or dislike and proceed to deceive myself through my past experience; there self-deception begins, starting with interpretation. When I am capable of looking at the fact without any kind of comparison or judgment, without translating, then only there is the possibility of not being deceived. When I do not want anything out of it, when I do not want a result, when I do not want to convince you of it or convince myself about it, this possibility of not being deceived exists. I must look directly, be in contact with the fact, without any interpretation between me and that fact. Between me and that fact, the time process which is deception, should not be there. I have an experience as a boy, as a lad, of a guru, a Master or what you will; then, what happens? I interpret it according to my likes, my conditioning. Then I say `I know'. There begins self-deception. I cling to an experience which is translatable. An experience that is translatable, is the beginning of self-deception. From there I proceed, I build up this whole process of knowing. If I have capacities, I convince you of my experience; and you, uncritical, superstitious, follow me because you also want to be deceived, you also want to be in the same net. The net has to be thrown away. You can plough the ground every day, do nothing but plough, plough and plough; but until you sow a seed, you won't get anything. That is how we are deceiving ourselves constantly and deceiving others. So, to discover for oneself if there is self-deception is very simple, very clear. As long as there is the interpreter translating the experience, there must be deception. Don't say there is infinite time to get free from the experiencer, from the translator. That is another of your ways of self deception; that is your desire to evade the fact. If we want to know whether we are deceiving ourselves, it is very clear and it is very simple. It is only when you do not ask, when you do not put out the begging bowl for another to fill, then only you will know the state in which no deception is possible. Question: You say that through identification we bring about separation, division. Your way of life appears to some of us to be separative and isolating and to have caused division among those who were formerly together. With what have you identified yourself? Krishnamurti: Now, let us first see the truth of the statement that identification divides, separates. I have stated that several times. Is it a fact or not? What do we mean by identification? Don't just merely and verbally indulge in it, but look at it directly. You identify yourself with your country. Don't you? When you do that what happens? You immediately enclose yourself through that identification with a particular group. That is a fact, is it not? When you call yourself a Hindu, you have identified yourself with particular beliefs, traditions, hopes, ideas; and that very identification isolates you. That is a fact, is it not? If you see the truth of that, then you cease to identify; therefore you are no longer a Hindu or a Buddhist or a Christian, politically or religiously. So, identification is separative, is a deteriorating factor in life. That is a fact; that is the truth of it whether you like it or not. The questioner goes on to ask if I have, through my action, brought about division among those who were formerly together. Quite right. If you see something true, must you not state it? Though it brings trouble, though it brings about disunity, should you not state it? How can there be unity on falsity? You identify yourself with a idea, with a belief; and when another questions that belief, the idea, you throw that other fellow out; you don't bring him in, you push him out. You have isolated him; the man who says what you are doing is wrong, has not isolated you. So, your action is isolating, and not his action, not the action of the person who points to the truth. You don't want to face the fact that identification is separative. Identification with a family, with an idea, with a belief, with any particular organization is all separative. When that is directly put an end to, or when you are made to look at it and are given a challenge, then you who want to identify, who want to be separative, who want to push the other fellow out, say that man is isolating. Your way of existence, your way of life, is separative; and so you are responsible for separation. I am not. You have thrown me out; I have not gone out. Naturally, you begin to feel that I am isolating, that I am bringing division, that my ideas and my expressions are destroying are destructive. They should be destructive; they should be revolutionary. Otherwise, what is the value of anything new? Surely, Sirs, there must be revolution, not according to any particular ideology or pattern. If it is according to an ideology or pattern, then it is not revolution, it is merely the continuation of the past; it is identification with a new idea and therefore it gives continuity to a particular form; and that is certainly not revolution. Revolution comes into being when there is an inward cessation of all identification; and you can only do that, when you are capable of looking straight at the fact without deceiving yourself and without giving the interpreter a chance to tell you what he thinks of it. Seeing the truth of identification, obviously I am not identified with anything. Sir, when I see a truth that something hurts, there is no problem; I leave it alone. I cease to identify there or elsewhere. You realize that the whole process of identification is destructive, separative; whether this process takes place in religious beliefs or in the political dialectical outlook, it is all separative. When you recognize that, when you see that and are fully aware of it, then obviously you are freed; therefore there is no identification with anything. Not to be identified means to stand alone, but not as a noble entity facing the world. This has nothing to do with being together. But, you are afraid of disunity. The questioner says I have brought disunity. Have I? I doubt it! You have discovered for yourself the truth of it. If you are persuaded by me and therefore identify yourself with me, then you have not done a new thing; you have only exchanged one evil for another. Sirs, we must break to find out. The real revolution is the inward revolution; it is a revolution that sees things clearly and that is of love. In that state, you have no identification with anything. Question: You say there can be cooperation only when you and I are as nothing. How can this be true? Is not cooperation positive action, whereas being as nothing is almost unconscious negativity? How can two nothingness be related and what is there for them to cooperate about? Krishnamurti: The state of nothingness must obviously be an unconscious state. It is not a conscious state. You can't say I am as nothing. When you are conscious as being nothing, you are then something. This is not a mere amusing statement, but this is a fact. When you are conscious that you are virtuous, you become respectable; a person who is respectable can never find what is real. When I am conscious that I am as nothing then that very nothingness is some thing. Simply because I have made that statement, don't accept it. There can be cooperation only when you and I are as nothing. Find out what it means, think out and meditate about it. Don't just ask questions. What does that state of nothingness mean? What do you mean by it? We only know the state of activity of the self, the self-centred activity. Whether you are following some guru, master, that is all irrelevant. We only know the state which is self-action. That obviously creates and engenders mischief, misery, turmoil, confusion and non-cooperation. And then the problem arises: `How is one to cooperate?' We know now that any cooperation based on an idea leads to destruction, as has already been shown. Action, cooperation, based on an idea is separative. Just as belief is separative, so is action based on an idea. Even if you are convinced, or millions are convinced, still there are many to be convinced; and therefore there is contention going on all the time. So, we know that there cannot be fundamental cooperation, though there may be superficial persuasion through fear, through reward, through punishment and so on - which is not cooperation obviously. So, where there is activity of the self as the end in view, as the utopia in view, that is nothing but destruction, separation; and there is no cooperation. What is one to do if one is really desirous, or one wants really to find out, not superficially but really, and bring about cooperation? If you want cooperation from your wife, your child, or your neighbour, how do you set about it? You set about by loving the person. Obviously! Love is not a thing of the mind; love is not an idea. Love can be only when the activity of the self has ceased to be. But you call the activity of the self positive; that positive act leads to destruction, separativeness, misery, confusion, all of which you know so well and so thoroughly. And yet, we all talk of cooperation, brotherhood. Basically, we want to cling to our activities of the self. So, a man who really wants to pursue and find out the truth of cooperation, must inevitably bring to an end the self-centred activity. When you and I are not self-centred, we love each other; then you and I are interested in action and not in the result, not in the idea but in doing the action; you and I have love for each other. When my self-centred activity clashes with your self-centred activity, then we project an idea towards which we both quarrel; superficially we are cooperating, but we are at each other's throats all the time. So, to be nothing is not the conscious state; and when you and I love each other, we cooperate, not to do something about which we have an idea, but in whatever there is to be done. If you and I loved each other, do you think the dirty, filthy villages would exist? We would act, we would not theorize and would not talk about brotherhood. Obviously, there is no warmth or sustenance in our hearts and we talk about everything; we have methods, systems, parties, governments and legislation's. We do not know that words cannot capture that state of love. The word `love' is not love. The word `love' is only the symbol and it can never be the real. So, don't be mesmerized by that word `love'. It is not something new. That state can only come into being when the activity of the `me' has ceased; and in that cessation of the `me', you are co operating with what is to be done and not with any idea. Don't you know all this, Sirs? Don't you know that when you and I love each other, we do things so easily and so smoothly; we do not talk about cooperation; we do not talk about a system of how to do a thing and then battle over the system and forget the action. You smile and you all pass it by. We have grown old in our cleverness and not in wisdom. Question: What system of meditation should I follow? Krishnamurti: We are going to find out. You are not going to listen to my truth and make it yours. You can only imitate the words but that won't be truth. The symbol is not the real. When you worship the symbol you become idolatrous, and the man who is idolatrous can never find what is truth. Now, you are going to find out what is the truth, not the ultimate, absolute and final truth but the truth of the system which will help you to meditate. That is, we are going to find out the truth if systems, methods, help you to meditate. You understand? The questioner probably asks whether systems, methods and definite steps, will help you to meditate. We are going to find that out. Truth is not something far away, miles away for which we have to go. It is there right under your very nose, to be discovered every minute; it is there for you to discover with a fresh mind which is creative. We shall discover in this way the truth, the whole implication of meditation. What is the implication of a system? Practice, doing the thing over and over again, repetition, copying and imitation. Is it not? All systems imply only this. Is it not? Through practice, through repetition, are you going to find happiness? That happiness, bliss, something which is not measurable, cannot come that way. At the beginning of your practice, you have both the beginning and the ending of that practice; that is, what you begin with is also what you end up with; the beginning is the end. If I practice, if I copy, I will end up as an imitator, as a machine repeating. If my mind is only capable of repeating, practicing day after day a certain method, following a certain system, at the end my mind is still copying, imitating, repeating. Surely this is obvious, is this not? Therefore at the beginning, I have set the course which the mind shall follow; if I do not understand at the beginning, I shall not understand at the end. That is the obvious truth. So, I have discovered that the end is at the beginning. Systems through promises, through pleasure, rewards, punishments, make the mind mechanical, stupid, drunk. And at the beginning there is no freedom, and therefore there is no freedom at the end. The beginning matters enormously. To you, meditation is quite a different process. You want to learn concentration; you want to learn the method of achieving a result; you want to worship God, female or male, some stupid image; you want to pursue virtue. All this is meditation for you. When you pursue virtue, cultivate virtue, what happens? You have the action of the `me'. The `me' desires to be kind, to be generous, to have no greed; and you practice, day after day, month after month. Thereby, are you not strengthening greed in a different way? Because, you are becoming conscious that you are not greedy, and the moment you are conscious that you are not greedy, you are certainly greedy. Your pursuit of virtue is a form of self-centred activity. That is not meditation. When you want to concentrate, your mind goes wandering and you try to pull it up; and there fore, you set up a battle. The mind is wandering off, and you attempt to concentrate. What does that indicate? When you are here, for the duration you are here, are not your minds really concentrated? That is, is there not instinctive, natural, concentration which is not a process of exclusion? If your mind is petty, narrow, clever, cunning, ambitious, what is the good of your meditation, what is the good of your learning concentration? If you learn it, then it is another action of the self, which will help you to deceive others or to deceive yourself. So, you have seen the truth that concentration is not meditation; it is only a narrowing, exclusive process designed to force the mind to a particular pattern. Imagine you have abolished all systems, the whole idea of systems has fallen away. What then? The idea of concentrating your mind on a particular object - Master, some image - which is only exclusion, which is a process of identification and therefore of separation, has also dropped away. Then what happens? Your mind be comes more cognizant, more aware. Do you not then see that any pursuit of the mind, any form of achievement, is a burden? Please follow all this, meditate as I am talking; and you will see that any form of achievement of success, any sense of becoming, is still the action of the self, and therefore of time. When you see that clearly, fully recognize it, then there is no longer the pursuit of virtue. Then all sense of achievement, of being somebody, drops away; therefore the mind becomes quieter, more serene, not looking for a reward or punishments; it becomes completely indifferent to flattery and insult alike. What has happened to your mind? Don't go home and think about it there; think now. The things that were agitating you before, the things that acted in a separative way, being unconscious and fearful, seeking a reward, avoiding punishment, all these have gone away. The mind has become more quiet, more alert. There is gripping silence, not induced, not disciplined, not forced. Then what happens? Then, in that quiet state, ideas come up, feelings come up; and you understand them and put them away. Then, if you proceed a little further, you will see that in that state there are certain activities which are not self-projected, which come darkly and mysteriously without invitation, like the breeze, the sunset, like beauty. The moment they come, the mind, seeing the beauty, may like to hold on to it; it may then say `I have experienced that state', and then it clings to it and thereby creates the process of time, which is memory. That possibility also must go away. You know how the mind is operating and how it wants a series of sensations, which are called marvellous, and how it is naming them. When you see the truth of all that, these things also go away. Now, what is the state of the mind that is not seeking, that is not pursuing, that is not desiring, that is not searching out a result, that is not naming, that is not recognizing? Such a mind is quiet; such a mind is silent; the silence has come very naturally without any form of enforcement, without any compulsion, without any discipline. It is the truth that has liberated the mind. In that state, the mind is extraordinarily quiet. Then that which is new, which is not recognizable, which is creation, which is love, call it what you will, which is not different from the beginning, comes. And such a mind is a blessed mind, is a holy mind. Such a mind alone can help. Such a mind can cooperate. Such a mind can be without any identification, be alone, without any self-deception. What is beyond, is not measurable by words. That which is not measurable, comes; but if you seek like the foolish, then you will never have it. It comes when you are least expecting it; it comes when you are watching the sky; it comes when you are sitting under the shade of a tree; it comes when you are observing the smile of a child or the tears of a woman. But we are not observant; we are not meditating. We meditate only about a mysterious, ugly thing to be pursued, to be practiced and to be lived up to. A man who practices meditation, shall never know; but the man who understands the true meditation which is from moment to moment, only shall know. There is no experience of the individual. Where truth is concerned, the individuality disappears, the `me' has ceased to be. February 10, 1952 LONDON 1ST PUBLIC TALK 7TH APRIL 1952 It seems to me that having so many problems, each so complex, few of us find a happy solution for them. Intellectually we have many theories, many ways of solving our human complex problems. Politically, the left offers a certain type, either through compulsion, conformity, or by accepting a certain set of ideas; and religions throughout the world offer a hope, either in the future, or through living according to a certain pattern laid down by teachers. And yet, most of us find that our problems are growing more and more complex, our relationship to society more and more intricate, and our individual relationships with one another extremely difficult, conflicting and painful. Few of us are really inwardly content and happy. We do not seem to find a way out, - and when we do, it is an escape, which brings about further complications, further problems, greater intricacies and illusions. Thought has not solved our problem, and I don't think it ever will. We have relied on the intellect to show us the way out of our complexity. The more cunning, the more hideous, the more subtle the intellect is, the greater the variety of systems, of theories, of ideas. And ideas do not solve any of our human problems; they never have and they never will. The mind is not the solution; the way of thought is obviously not the way out of our difficulty. And it seems to me that we should first understand this process of thinking, and perhaps be able to go beyond, - for when thought ceases perhaps we shall be able to find a way which will help us to solve our problems, not only the individual but also the collective. And may I suggest here that in listening, we should not reject anything that we may hear for the first time; for most of us have so many ideas, so many prejudices, so many biases, through which we cannot listen, which hamper our understanding of anything that is put forward, anything that may be new. So may I suggest that we should listen, not in order to condemn or justify, or oppose what is said by our own ideas, but listen so that both of us can understand this problem of living. You and I are talking as two individuals, and if we can think individually, - that is, think over our problems as two friends, going deeply into them, - then perhaps we shall come upon that intelligence which is neither collective nor individual. It is that intelligence alone that can solve our intricate, everincreasing problems. To listen properly is not to oppose one idea by another idea. Probably you know already what you think, the way of your thought; you are familiar with your own reactions. And I presume that you have come here to find out what I have to say. To find out what I have to say you have to listen, surely, with a mind that is free from prejudices, that is watching to find out what the other fellow is saying, - which means, with a mind that is willing to examine the problem, a mind that is capable of discovering freely, and not merely a mind that is comparative, that judges, weighs, balances. So, if I may suggest it, as you would listen to a friend to whom you go with a problem, let us with that same attitude, with that same feeling of two individuals trying together, to solve this complex problem of living. As I said, thinking has not solved our problems. The clever ones, the philosophers, the scholars, the political leaders, have not really solved any of our human problems, - which are, the relationship between you and another, between you and myself. So far we have used the mind, the intellect, to help us investigate the problem, and thereby are hoping to find a solution. Can thought ever dissolve our problems? Is not thought, unless it is in the laboratory or on the drawing board, always self- protecting, self-perpetuating, conditioned? Is not its activity self-centred? And can such thought ever resolve any of the problems which thought itself has created? Can the mind, which has created the problems, resolve those things that it has itself brought forth? Before we can say yes or no, surely we must find out what this process of thinking is, this thing which we worship, this intellect to which we look up. What is this thought which has created our problems and which then tries to resolve them? Surely, until we understand that, we cannot find another way of living, another way of existence. Seeing that thought has not freed man, you and I, from our own conflicts, surely we must understand the whole process of thinking, and perhaps thereby let it come to an end. We may find out, then, if we have love, - which is not the way of thought. What is thinking? When we say "I think", what do we mean by that? When are we conscious of this process of thinking? Surely, we are aware of it when there is a problem, when we are challenged, when we are asked a question, when there is friction. We are aware of it as a self-conscious process. Please do not listen to me as a lecturer holding forth; but you and I are examining our own ways of thought, which we use as an instrument in our daily life. So I hope you are observing your own thinking, not merely listening to me, - that is no good. We shall arrive nowhere if you are only listening to me and not observing your own process of thinking, if you are not aware of your own thought and observing the way it arises, how it comes into being. That is what we are trying to do, you and I, - to see what this process of thinking is. Surely, thinking is a reaction. If I ask you a question, to that you respond, - you respond according to your memory, to your prejudices, to your upbringing, to the climate, to the whole background of your conditioning; and according to that you reply, according to that you think. If you are a Christian, a communist, a Hindu, or what you will, that background responds; and it is this conditioning that obviously creates the problem. The centre of this background is the me in the process of action. So long as that background is not understood, so long as that thought process, that self which creates the problem, is not understood and put an end to, we are bound to have conflict, within and without, in thought, in emotion, in action. No solution of any kind, however clever, however well thought out, can ever put an end to the conflict between man and man, between you and me. And realizing this, being aware of how thought springs up and from what source, then we ask, can thought ever come to an end? That is one of the problems, is it not? Can thought resolve our problems? By thinking over the problem, have you resolved it? Any kind of problem, - economic, social, religious, - has it ever been really solved by thinking? In your daily life, the more you think about a problem, the more complex, the more irresolute, the more uncertain it becomes. Is not that so? - in our actual, daily life? You may, in thinking out certain facets of the problem, see more clearly another person's point of view, but thought cannot see the completeness and fullness of the problem, it can only see partially, and a partial answer is not a complete answer, therefore it is not a solution. The more we think over a problem, the more we investigate, analyse and discuss it, the more complex it becomes. So is it possible to look at the problem comprehensively, wholly? And, how is this possible? Because, that, it seems to me, is our major difficulty. For our problems are being multiplied, - there is imminent danger of war, there is every kind of disturbance in our relation- ships, - and how can we understand all that comprehensively, as a whole? Obviously it can be solved only when we can look at it as a whole, - not in compartments, not divided. And when is that possible? Surely, it is only possible when the process of thinking - which has its source in the me, the self, in the background of tradition, of conditioning, of prejudice, of hope, of despair - has come to an end. So can we understand this self, not by analysing, but by seeing the thing as it is, being aware of it as a fact and not as a theory? - not seeking to dissolve the self in order to achieve a result, but seeing the activity of the self, the me, constantly in action. Can we look at it, without any movement to destroy or to encourage? That is the problem, is it not? If, in each one of us, the centre of the me is non-existent, with its desire for power, position, authority, continuance, self-preservation, surely our problems will come to an end! The self is a problem that thought cannot resolve. There must be an awareness which is not of thought. To be aware, without condemnation or justification, of the activities of the self, - just to be aware, is sufficient. Because if you are aware in order to find out how to resolve the problem, in order to transform it, in order to produce a result, then it is still within the field of the self, of the me. So long as we are seeking a result, whether through analysis, through awareness, through constant examination of every thought, we are still within the field of thought, which is, within the field of the me, of the I, of the ego, or what you will. As long as the activity of the mind exists, surely there can be no love. When there is love, we shall have no social problems. But love is not something to be acquired. The mind can seek to acquire it, like a new thought, a new gadget, a new way of thinking; but the mind cannot be in a state of love as long as thought is acquiring love. So long as the mind is seeking to be in a state of non-greed, surely it is still greedy, is it not? Similarly, so long as the mind wishes, desires, and practises in order to be in a state in which there is love, surely it denies that state, does it not? So, seeing this problem, this complex problem of living, and being aware of the process of our own thinking and realizing that it actually leads nowhere, - when we deeply realize that, then surely there is a state of intelligence which is not individual or collective. So, the problem of the relationship of the individual to society, of the individual to the community, of the individual to reality, ceases; because then there is only intelligence, which is neither personal nor impersonal. It is this intelligence alone, I feel, that can solve our immense problems. And that cannot be a result; it comes into being only when we understand this whole total process of thinking, not only at the conscious level, but also at the deeper, hidden levels of consciousness. Perhaps, as we are going to meet during the whole of this month, we shall be able to talk over this problem more fully, exchange ideas, discuss them. But what I feel is that to understand any of these problems we have to have a very quiet mind, a very still mind, so that the mind can look at the problem without interposing ideas, theories, without any distraction. And that is one of our difficulties, - because thought has become a distraction. When I want to understand, look at something, I don't have to think about it, - I look at it. The moment I begin to think, to have ideas, opinions about it, I am already in a state of distraction, looking away from the thing which I must understand. So thought, when you have a problem, becomes a distraction, - thought being an idea, opinion, judgment, comparison, - which prevents us from looking, and thereby understanding and resolving the problem. But unfortunately, for most of us thought has become so important. You say, "How can I exist, be, without thinking? How can I have a blank mind?" To have a blank mind is to be in a state of stupor, idiocy, or what you will, and your instinctive reaction is to reject it. But surely, a mind that is very quiet, a mind that is not distracted by its own thought, a mind that is open, can look at the problem very directly and very simply. And it is this capacity to look without any distraction at our problems that is the only solution. For that, there must be a quiet, tranquil mind. Such a mind is not a result, is not an end product of a practice, of meditation, of control. It comes into being through no form of discipline or compulsion or sublimation, without any effort of the me, of thought; it comes into being when I understand the whole process of thinking - when I can see a fact without any distraction. In that state of tranquillity of a mind that is really still, there is love. And it is love alone that can solve all our human problems. I have several questions here, and I will try to answer them. May I suggest that in listening to the answers, you do not merely listen to me, - that you are not caught by my words, but that actually we go through the problem together and try to resolve it together. That is, do not, if I may suggest, follow verbally the description of the problem, or intellectually try to resolve it. Any of these questions is a problem for most of us, and it will be beneficial, I think, if you can follow them as they are happening in yourselves. If you can listen to each problem, not as of another, but as of yourself, then we can deal with it directly and tackle it immediately. Question: I have been to several psychoanalysts to free myself from the fear which dominates me. I have not been able to get rid of it. Would you kindly suggest how I am to set about freeing myself from this constant oppression? Krishnamurti: Surely most of us have fears, conscious or unconscious, of various kinds! We are not discussing the kind of fear, but fear as a whole. When I can understand fear as a whole, then after having understood it I can deal with the particular. So, let us find out how to resolve this fear, - not theoretically, not as something to be thought over the day after tomorrow, when you have leisure, but actually do it now as we go along. Let us see if we can experiment with this. How do we look at fear? When we are aware of it, how do we regard it? What is our attitude, our state of mind, when we are aware that there is fear? Please, follow this step by step, and if it is not fear, substitute for it your own particular nightmare, your own particular burden. And let us go into it step by step, completely, if we can, and see if we cannot resolve it. What is the state of the mind when it discovers that there is fear? What happens to the mind? What do you do? You have opinions about it, have you not? You have ideas about it, have you not? You look at it from a distance, do you not? You do not look at it directly, you are not in immediate contact with it. You are far away from it, and regard it as something to be avoided, something to be got rid of, something about which you can have theories. You look at it, either with condemnation, or with a desire to run away from it, so that you are never directly in contact with it, you never look at it immediately, directly, simply. You have all these barriers of distraction. So, we are going to look directly. And to do that, you must approach it, you must come nearer to it. And you cannot come nearer to it if you have opinions about it, or about the cause of it. You cannot see it directly if your mind is occupied with analysis, the why and the wherefore going backwards indefinitely. The discovery of the cause of fear will not dissolve fear. It can be dissolved only when you can directly look at it, when you can have direct relationship with it. Merely analysing, groping in the past to discover its cause, will not dissolve it, because your mind is distracted, because you are not facing the fact of fear. So, having an opinion about it, or analysing it, will not bring you close to it, direct to it. So, that must go away. And it will disappear, this opinion with regard to it, when you feel the urgent necessity of looking at that fear. Then what happens? You have come a little nearer to it, have you not? - to the thing that you call fear. Then what happens? What is the reaction then? You still have ideas about it, have you not? - the idea that you must get rid of it, the idea that you cannot bear to look at it, the idea that even if you do look you will not know how to resolve it. So, the idea about fear creates fear, does it not? That is, I am afraid, there is fear in me; I am trying to understand what that fear is, - that is, to look at it. I cannot look at it if I have ideas about it, - the idea being the word, the image. As long as I have an idea about fear, surely idea creates fear. If I recognize, if I am aware of that, what is my relationship to the thing that I have called fear? I hope you are following this. How do I look at the thing that I call fear, now? I've come closer; the barrier of opinion, judgment, analysis, has gone; I am no longer in a position where idea dominates. So, what is my relationship to the thing that I call fear? Is that thing called fear separate from me, the observer, the onlooker? Surely it is not. The observer is fear. The observer is not watching fear; the observer himself is the fear. So, that is a fact. Now, let us go a little closer, still further. Is that thing which I call fear the result of a word? Is it the product of a word, - the word being thought? If it is, then the word is very important, isn't it? And for most of us the word is very important. Verbalizing is the process of thinking. So for us the word "fear" is fear. The word is fear, not the thing which we call fear. So, when I can look at myself in a state which I have called fear, - which is merely the word, - surely then the word disappears; and I realize that as long as the mind is active, verbalizing, in any direction, - which is, to have symbols, - there must be fear. So, I am not different from fear; the thinker is the thought. And for thought to come to an end the thinker cannot discipline thought, - because it is himself. All that he can do is to be in a state without any movement, in any direction. Only then, surely, fear ceases. Question: We all recognize that inward peace and tranquillity of the mind are essential. What is the method or the "how" which you suggest? Krishnamurti: Now again, let us try to see the truth of this "how", of this method. You say, tranquillity of the mind and a peaceful heart are essential. Is that so? Or, is that merely a theory, merely a desire? Because we are so disturbed, distracted, we want that quietness, that tranquillity, - which then is merely an escape. It is not a necessity; it is an escape. When we see the necessity of it, when we are convinced it is the only thing that matters, the only thing that is essential, - then, do we ask the method for it? Is a method necessary when you see something is essential? Method involves time, does it not? If not now, then eventually, -tomorrow, in a couple of years, - I shall be tranquil. Which means, you do not see the necessity of being tranquil. And so, the "how" becomes a distraction; the method becomes a way of postponing the essentiality of tranquillity. And that is why you have all these meditations, these phoney, false controls to get eventual tranquillity of the mind, and the various methods of how to discipline in order to acquire that tranquillity. Which means you do not see the necessity, the immediate necessity, of having a still mind. When you see the necessity of it, then there is no inquiry into the method at all. Then you see the importance of having a quiet mind, and you have a quiet mind. Unfortunately, we do not see the necessity of having a still mind, a tranquil mind. We are too fond of our distractions; and we want to be weaned away from our distractions through the process of time. And therefore we ask the method, the "how", the practice. I think that is a very false approach. A tranquil mind is not a result; it is not the end of a practice. A tranquil mind is not a static mind; and that which is a result is static. When you have a quiet mind as a result, through discipline, it is no longer a still mind. It is a state which is a product; and that which has been put together can be dismembered again. So, what is important in this question is not the method, -because there are innumerable methods to produce a result; and a man who is seeking a result has no tranquil mind. But what is important in this is to see directly, simply, that only a tranquil mind can understand; that a still mind is essential, not in some future, but immediately. When you see such a necessity, then the mind is still. Such a still mind will know what it is to be creative. Because in that state which is not a result, which is not the product of years of practice, in that still mind, you will find that all movement of thought is non-existent. Thought does not create; thought can never create. It can project its own desires, its own sensations, its own imagery, symbols, but that which it has projected is not true, it is of itself. Let thought be of Christ, of a Master, or what you will, - it is its own projection. And the worship of that projection is self-worship. Such a mind is not a tranquil mind. But you will see, if it is truly tranquil, quiet, that there is no movement in it. Therefore all experiencing, as we know it, has ceased. Because that which we experience is recognizable; and as long as there is the centre of recognition, the mind is not tranquil. For reality, or God, is not to be recognized, is not to be experienced by the mind. When experiencing ceases, - which is, when recognizing comes to an end, - then there is that which is not to be experienced, that which is not to be recognized. And only when we see the necessity of such tranquillity, such stillness, - only then it comes into being. April 7, 1952. LONDON 2ND PUBLIC TALK 8TH APRIL 1952 As we were saying yesterday, we look to ideas for the solution of our problems, and we base our action on ideas, - at least, we approximate our action to a certain set of ideas. And is it ever possible to be free from the conflict of idea and action? Because, between action and idea there is a wide gap, and we are everlastingly trying to bridge this gap, and so we are in constant conflict. And when the mind is in conflict, obviously there is confusion. And when we are in a state of confusion, any choice of idea, any choice of action, is bound to be equally confused. And so, we are caught in a series of conflicts, never ending, but always getting more and more complex. And we can see that only when the mind is very still and quiet, not choosing, is there a possibility of tranquillity. When the mind is merely accumulating knowledge, - either of the past or of the future, accumulating ideas, and thereby trying to find an action which will bring about the cessation of conflict, not only within ourselves but with society and all about us, - does not the mind merely become then the instrument of conflict, the source of conflict? That is, does knowledge, - the accumulating process of ideas, of information, of that which is of the past or the hope of the future, does knowledge help in bringing about the cessation of conflict? And must conflict go on indefinitely? - conflict within and without, in our relationships and in ourselves? If that conflict is to continue, and that seems the lot of all of us, everlastingly and without end, - then we must find escapes, -political, religious, every kind of escape, - so that we can at least drown ourselves in some kind of darkness, illusion, in some theory, in some complicated action which never produces freedom. If we would really go more deeply into this question of conflict, - whether it will ever produce greater progress, a greater understanding, a greater freedom in our relationships, more love, -then we must find out the source of conflict. For if conflict is ultimately to produce a sense of freedom of the mind, and therefore love, then conflict is necessary. We have taken it for granted that it is essential in one form or another; and without conflict we think we shall become stagnant. We have built our life, our philosophy, our religious thinking, on this series of conflicts, hoping that it will eventually bring about freedom, - be ennobling, and so on. So should we not, before we accept the inevitability of conflict, find out whether conflict ever brings understanding? When you and I are in conflict, emotionally, verbally, deeply, is there understanding? And, does conflict cease with knowledge? Is not knowledge the very centre of the me, of the self, which is everlastingly acquiring, trying to become something? And, does not this conflict lie in this desire to become, to be? This process of accumulating knowledge, - which is really information, words put together, - will that bring about the cessation of conflict, put an end to the me which is the centre of accumulation, which is the centre of conflict? Is it ever possible to suppress knowledge, and this process of accumulation? We may possess very little, - a few clothes, a little property; we may be unknown, living in a small place; but we are always accumulating knowledge, we are always trying to gather to ourselves virtue. And that is the process of the mind. I do not know if you have ever thought of this problem of acquiring knowledge, - whether knowledge does ultimately help us to love, to be free from those qualities that produce conflict in ourselves and with our neighbours; whether knowledge ever frees the mind of ambition. Because ambition is, after all, one of the qualities that destroy relationship, that put man against man. And if we would live at peace with each other, surely ambition must completely come to an end - not only political, economic, social ambition, but also the more subtle and pernicious ambition, the spiritual ambition, - to be something. Is it ever possible for the mind to be free from this accumulating process of knowledge, this desire to know? What is it we want to know? We want to know about ourselves, what we have been and what we shall be. We may want to know about scientific information, but that is merely a side-issue. Fundamentally we all want to know, what? - to know if we are loved, and if we ourselves love; to know if we are free, if we are happy, if we are creative, if we are somebody, something. We want to know either what we have been or what we shall be; so that knowledge becomes a means of personal security, a psychological necessity for one's continuance. And so we gather information, -religious, political, social, and so on; and with that we are satisfied, for we use that knowledge to exploit others or cover ourselves. So surely, one of our problems is, is it not?, whether it is possible to live in this world without the psychological process of accumulation, without this constant battle to know what one will become, psychologically. So long as we are trying to become something, - accepting certain princi- ples, ideals, beliefs, and then approximating ourselves to them, surely knowledge becomes a means of self-satisfied security, certainty. And the moment you have acquired, you want more, and so there is the battle, the struggle of this constant desire to be something more, to become something. And for that we must have knowledge. And this accumulating process of the me, the I, the ego, is the centre of this recognition, is the knower, is the knowledge. And, this centre is always translating every experience according to its knowledge, according to its prejudices. And so, this centre of knowledge, this entity that is everlastingly inquiring in order to know, can only experience that which it has known; it cannot experience anything new. The mind that is burdened with knowledge can never be creative; it cannot know what it is to be in that state wherein creation can take place. Every experience has already been tested; and whatever it experiences is its own projection. A mind that would be in a state in which the new can take place, - whether it be the truth, whether it be God, or what you will, -must surely cease to acquire, to gather; it must put aside all knowledge. Because that which is capable of recognizing is still within the field of time. And a mind which is the result of time, which is the result of accumulation, a mind burdened with knowledge, cannot possibly understand, surely, that which is real, which is not measurable. But most of us are afraid to be in that state, to be entirely free from this centre which is everlastingly accumulating. All this is not a matter of conviction. You are not being persuaded by me to accept any set of ideas, - that would be a horror. Then our relationship would be one of propagandists. But surely, what we are concerned with is to find out the truth of this thing which we call the me, the centre that is the cause of conflict, and whether that centre can ever be resolved. And one of its qualities, part of its nature, is the accumulating process of knowledge, the gathering in of memories, of the past and of the future, so that it can be secure. I am not trying to convince you of it; and we need not argue about it. It is not a matter of logic, - logic is always rather cheap. But we can surely try to find out if the mind can be free, can be in that state of not knowing, when it is not gathering or projecting from its own knowledge. Surely that requires investigation, not conviction, not belief. For that you do not have to read any books. All that one has to do is to watch oneself, go into the intricacies of the mind, watch the ways of the self, gathering and rejecting. And then one can see that conflict is not necessary; conflict is not the way to an integrated existence, to a complete life. But so long as the mind is trying to become, acquiring, reaching for more experience, for a greater wealth of information and knowledge, - the more there must be conflict. Reality, or God, or what you will, is not to be reached through conflict. On the contrary, there must be the cessation of the me as the centre of accumulation, - either of information, or of virtue, or experience, or of any of those qualities that the mind seeks in order to enlarge itself. Only then, surely, is it possible for that state of reality to come into being. Question: I have tried out many of the things you have suggested in your various talks, but I don't seem to get very far. What is wrong with you or with me? Krishnamurti: You see, the difficulty is that we want to get "very far", we want to reach a result; we want the "more". So we experiment in order to arrive; we study, we listen, in order to compare, in order to become something. What I say may be utterly wrong; you have to find out, not accept it. What is important in this question is, is it not?, the desire to become more, to reach far, to arrive somewhere. And so, with that motive in the background you study, you experiment, you observe yourself, you are aware of your actions. With that hidden motive, - to progress, to achieve, to become a saint, to know more, to reach the Master, - with that hidden, subtle motive driving you, you do all; you read, you study, you inquire. And naturally, you do not get very far. So what is important is to understand that motive, that drive. Why should you get very far? Far in what? - in your knowledge, in your ambitions, in your so-called virtues, which are really not virtues at all but the becoming greater in yourself? You see, the difficulty is that we are so deeply ambitious. As the clerk strives to become the manager, so we want to become the Masters, the saints. We want to arrive ultimately at a state of peace. So ambition is the motive; ambition is driving us. And instead of understanding that ambition, and putting an end to it completely, we turn our face towards becoming more and more, to reaching deeper, going very far. So we deceive ourselves, we create illusions. Obviously, the man who is ambitious is not only antisocial, destructive, but he will never understand what truth is, what God is, or whatever name you like to give to it. So, if I may suggest, do not try to get "very far", but inquire into the motive, into the activities, of the mind that desires to go far. Why do we want this? Either we want to escape from ourselves, or we want to have influence, prestige, position, authority. If we want to escape from ourselves, any illusion is good enough. And it is not a matter of time. The mind is the instrument of achievement; and with the mind, which is the result of time, one cannot understand that which is beyond measure, which is not vague, not mysticism as opposed to occultism - a very convenient division of the thoughtless. To understand this motive, this drive to become something, is what is important; and that we can observe in our daily actions, in our everyday thought, - this urge to be something, to dominate, to assert. It is there that the truth lies, not away from it. It is there that we must find it. Question: Is it possible for the ordinary individual to lead a spiritual life without having a set of beliefs or taking part in ceremonies and ritual? Krishnamurti: I wonder what we mean by a spiritual life? Do you become spiritual by performing ceremonies and rituals, having innumerable beliefs, or by having principles according to which you are trying to live? Does that make you spiritual? Ceremonies and rituals sometimes, perhaps, at the beginning, give a certain sensation, so-called uplift. But they are repetitious, and every sensation that is repeated soon wearies of itself. The mind likes to establish itself in a routine, in a habit; and rituals, ceremonies provide this and give to the mind an opportunity to separate itself, to feel itself superior, to feel that it knows more, and to enjoy the sensations of repetitious pleasures. Surely there is nothing spiritual about rituals and ceremonies; they only divide man against man. Since they are repetitious they do not free the mind from its own self-projected sensations. On the contrary, for a spiritual life, a free life, a free mind, a mind that is not burdened by the ego, the me, is necessary - it is essential to see the falsity of ceremonies. To find reality, or God, or what you will, there must be no ceremonies, no rituals round which the mind can wrap itself and feel itself different, enjoying the sensations of oft-repeated actions. And a mind burdened with belief, - is such a mind capable of perception, of understanding? Surely, a mind burdened with belief is an enclosed mind, - no matter what belief it is, whether it is in nationalism, or any particular principle, or the belief in its own knowledge. A mind that is burdened with beliefs, either of the past or of the future, is surely not a free mind. A mind crippled with belief is incapable of investigation, of discovery, of looking within itself. But the mind likes beliefs, because belief gives to it a certain security, makes it feel strong, energetic, aloof, separative. We know all this as an everyday fact. And yet we continue in our beliefs, - that you are a Christian and I am a Hindu, - I with my set of idiosyncrasies, traditions and experience handed down from the past, and you with yours. Obviously, belief does not bring us together. Only when there is no belief, only when we have understood the whole process of belief, - then perhaps we can come together. The mind desires constantly to be secure, to be in a state of knowledge, to know; and belief offers a very convenient security. Belief in something, belief in a certain economic system, for which one is willing to sacrifice oneself and others, - in that the mind takes shelter, it is certain there. Or, belief in God, in a certain spiritual system; there again the mind feels secure, certain. Belief, after all, is a word. The mind lives on words, it has its being in words; and there it takes shelter and finds certainty. And a mind that is sheltered, secure, certain, is surely incapable of understanding anything new, or receiving that which is not measurable. So belief acts as a barrier, not only between man and man, but also, surely, as a block, as a hindrance, to something that is creative, that is new. But to be in a state of uncertainty, of not-knowing, of not acquiring, is extremely difficult, is it not;-perhaps not difficult, but it requires a certain earnestness, without any distraction, inward or outward. But unfortunately most of us inwardly want to be distracted; and beliefs, ceremonies, rituals, offer good, respectable distractions. So, what is important in this question is, is it not?, to free the mind from its own self-created habits, from its own self-projected experiences, from its own knowledge, - which is, from the entity which is gathering, accumulating. That is the real problem, - to be free inwardly, to be in that state when the mind is no longer inviting or accumulating experience. That is extremely arduous. And it is for everyone, not for the few, to free themselves from the process of time which is the process of accumulation, gathering in, the desire for the more. This is only possible when we understand the ways of the mind, how it is constantly seeking security, permanency, either in beliefs, in rituals, in ceremonies, or in knowledge. All these are distractions; and a mind that is distracted is incapable of quietness. To go into this problem very deeply, one has to be aware inwardly, both at the conscious and at the unconscious level, of those attractions and distractions that the mind has cultivated, - to observe them, and not try to transform them into something else, but merely observe. Then begins the freedom in which the mind is no longer acquiring, accumulating. Question: I feel that much of my unhappiness is due to my strong urge to help and advise those I love - and even those I do not love. How can I really see this as domination and interference? Or, how can I know if my help is genuine? Krishnamurti: You mean to say that you are unhappy because you cannot help another! I should have thought you would help others because you are happy. Because you love, you help; and if you do not help you are not unhappy. I think that is where the key of this problem is; you are unhappy because you cannot help. That is, helping gives you happiness. So, you are deriving your happiness from helping others. You are using others to get your own satisfaction. Please, this is not a clever, smart remark. But most of us are in that state; we want to be active, we want to do things, interfere, help, love, be generous; we want to be active doing something. And when that is thwarted, we are unhappy. And as long as we have the freedom to act, to fulfil, and that activity is not thwarted, we call it happiness. Surely, the action of help is not of the mind. The generosity of the mind is not the generosity of the heart. But because we have lost the generosity of the heart, we are generous with our mind, -which when thwarted rebels, and there is the ache. And so we join groups, parties, create societies to help. When we have lost generosity we turn to social service; when we have lost love we turn to systems. So surely, in this problem the underlying difficulty is that we are seeking satisfaction; and that is a very difficult thing to be free of, because it is so subtle. We want to be satisfied in everything that we do; or, we go to the other extreme and become martyrs, put up with anything. Until we understand this desire to be satisfied, then help becomes interference and domination. The desire to help another becomes interference and domination until we understand the urge, the craving to find satisfaction. The mind is always seeking satisfaction, is it not? - which is, seeking a result, to be sure that one is helping. And when you are certain that you are giving help, you feel satisfied, from which comes so-called happiness. So, is it possible for the mind to be free from this urge to be satisfied? Why do we seek satisfaction? Why do we seek gratification in everything? Why are we not merely content to be what we are? For, if we can see what we are, then perhaps we can transform it. But always seeking satisfaction away from what we are brings about the whole problem of interference and domination, - whether your help is genuine or not, and so on. So, the problem of satisfaction is very difficult to resolve, because it is so extraordinarily subtle and varied. And it can only come to an end by constant watching, being aware of how the mind is seeking to be certain in its own satisfaction. Again, this is not a matter for disputation, for argument, to be convinced of it, - but it is to be inquired into, to be found. To really see that your mind is seeking satisfaction, - not merely to repeat what has been said, which leads nowhere, but to see the truth of it, brings about an extraordinary discovery. Then it is something new which you have found. To find out for yourself the ways in which the mind is subtly seeking satisfaction, to discover it, to see it, to be aware of it, brings freedom from it. Question: How do you "see" a fact with out any reaction: without condemnation or justification, without prejudice or the desire for a conclusion, without wanting to do something about it, without the sense of the me and mine? What is the point of such "seeing" or awareness? Have you actually done this, and could you exemplify from your own experience? Krishnamurti: First of all, do we see a fact? - not how do we see a fact, but do we see a fact? Do we see the fact, for example, of greed, of contradiction, in ourselves? What exactly do we mean by "seeing"? Am I aware that I am greedy? And how do I regard it? Am I capable of seeing that I am greedy, without explanations, without condemnation, without trying to do something about it, without justifying it, without the desire to transform it into non-greed? Let us take the example of envy, or greed, or feeling inferior or superior, or jealousy, and so on. Take one thing like that, and see what happens. First of all, most of us are unaware that we are envious; we brush it casually aside as a bourgeois thing, as being superficial. But deeply, inwardly, profoundly, we are envious. We are envious beings. We want to be something, we want to achieve, we want to arrive, - which is the very indication of envy. Our social, economic, spiritual systems are based on that envy. First of all, be aware of it. Most of us are not. We justify it; we say, if we hadn't envy what would happen to civilization? - if we did not make progress and had no ambition, and so on, what would we do? -everything would collapse, would stagnate. So, that very statement, that very justification, surely prevents us from looking at the fact that we are, you and I, envious. Then, if we are at all conscious, aware, seeing all this, - then what happens? If we do not justify, we condemn, don't we? -because we think that state of envy, or whatever state it is you feel, is wrong, not spiritual, not moral. So we condemn; which prevents us seeing what is, does it not? When I justify, or condemn or have a desire to do something about it, that prevents me from looking at it, doesn't it? Let us examine this glass in front of me on the table. I can look at it without thinking who made it, observing the pattern, and so on; I can just look at it. Similarly, is it not possible to look at my envy, not to condemn it, not to have the desire to alter it, to do something about it, to justify it? Then, if I do not do all that, what happens? I hope you are following this, substituting for envy your own particular burden. I hope you are not merely listening to me telling you something about it, but are observing your own relation to a certain fact which is causing you disturbance, or pain, or confusion. Please watch yourself, and apply what we are saying to yourself, - watch your own mind in the process of thinking. We are partaking together, sharing together in this experiment to find out what "seeing" is, going more and more deeply into it. So, if I would see that I am envious, be aware of it, see the content of it, then the desire to do something, to condemn, to justify, obviously comes to an end, because I am more interested to see what it is, what is behind it, what is its inward nature. If I am not interested to know more deeply, more intimately, the content of this whole problem of envy, then I am satisfied by merely condemning. So, if I am not condemning, not desiring to do something about it, I am a little nearer, intimate, more close to the problem. Then, how do I look at it? How do I know I am greedy? Is it the word that is creating the feeling of wanting more? Is the reaction the outcome of memory, which is symbolized by a word? And is the feeling different from the word, the name, the term? And by recognizing it, giving it a name, a label, have I resolved it, have I understood it? All this is a process of seeing the fact, isn't it? And then, to go still further, is the me, the observer, experiencing greed? Is greed something apart from me? Is envy, that extraordinarily exciting and pleasurable reaction, something apart from me, the observer? When I do not condemn, when I do not justify, when I am not desirous of doing something about it, have I not removed the censor, the observer? And, when the observer is not, then, is there the word greed? - the very word being a condemnation. When the observer is not, then only is there a possibility of that feeling coming to an end. But in looking at the fact, I do not start with the desire to bring it to an end; that is not my motive. I want to see the whole structure, the whole process; I want to understand it. And in this process I discover the ways of my own thinking. And it is through this self-knowledge, - not to be gathered from books, from printed words and lectures, but by actually sharing together as in this talk, -that we find out the ways of the self. It is seeking the truth of the fact, - which I can only do when I have been through this process, -which frees the mind from that reaction called envy. Without seeing the truth of that, then do what you will, envy will remain. You may find a substitute for it, you may do everything to cover it up, to run away from it; but it is always there. Only when we can understand how to approach it, to see the truth of it, is there freedom from it. April 8, 1952. LONDON 3RD PUBLIC TALK 15TH APRIL 1952 It seems to me that our problems are not so much concerned with the illusions that the mind creates, but rather in the fact that we avoid coming face to face with our own inadequacy. We do not see that we are really escaping from ourselves constantly. It is these escapes, these illusions, that create the conflict, and not, the discovery of ourselves as we are; and I think that is the real crux of our problem. We have got so many illusions, so many beliefs, so many certainties and prejudices; and these create the problem. We are trying constantly, are we not?, to adjust our inward urges, our inward experiences, our inward difficulties, - to adjust them to the beliefs, the knowledge, to the superficial conditions of our lives. And so we are for ever avoiding facing the real issue, which is ourselves. We are extremely bored with ourselves, with what we are, - and so we seek superficial knowledge, or, acquire beliefs, that will act as security, as permanency; and constantly we are running away from what we are. And perhaps this evening we can see what these escapes are, and actually cut ourselves off from them, - not theoretically, not verbally or intellectually, but actually face them, realize their full significance, and thereby let them drop away, so that without the suggestions or persuasions of others we can directly experience for ourselves, directly face, that which we are. I think it is important not to discuss what our beliefs are, and how to get rid of them, - what our superstitions are, whether rituals, ceremonies, Masters, are necessary or not; those are all childish things. Because, our central problem is not those illusions, but what is actual, - and from that we are running away. And if we can experience, come into contact with what actually is, not from a distance, but come very close and examine it, look at it, observe it, go into it deeply, then we shall see that though we are in despair, though there is war, though there is anxiety, a sense of eternal loneliness from which we are continually running away, we can deal with it, we can deal with the direct issue. That is where our difficulty lies; because, we have surrounded ourselves, have we not?, with so many fancies, so many illusions, so many myths, and all these are utterly valueless if we would discover what we actually are, and go beyond. As religious people, so-called religious, - which presumably most of us here are, - we have created many systems of philosophy, disciplines, beliefs, and we have formed many societies, organizations, which actually take us away from the central issue, - which is, what we actually are. So, until we face that, - not intellectually, not verbally, - we cannot proceed to bring about an integration between what verbally we understand, and action. Intellectually we see that we are actually running away, taking flight from ourselves. We are conscious of it intellectually; verbally we accept it. Which again creates another problem, does it not? For the problem then arises, how am I to act, in order to come near, to understand, what actually I am? So, we make the "how" into another problem. And so, we increase one problem by another, - what to believe and what not to believe, what kind of meditations, disciplines we shall follow, how to still the mind, how to reject, what to acquire and what not to acquire, and so on and on; which only brings further confusion, further problems, ever multiplying and increasing. Can we not see all this as illusion? - not theoretically, but really see that the mind is projecting these things and escaping through them in order to avoid the central issue of what we actually are? We can never find out what is actually the present state of the mind, and what lies beyond, unless we put aside or understand these illusions, - like beliefs in reincarnation, in Masters, - dozens of beliefs, - with which we have crippled the mind, and which have made it so enclosed that it can never be free. It is only when we have relinquished these, actually set them aside, - then only, when the mind is free, can we approach our central difficulty, which is ourselves. Surely that is the problem, is it not? You may have wonderful philosophies, theories, of economic relationship, - how to bring about brotherhood, unity, and so on. But they will all be worthless, will they not?, unless we have solved the problem of the centre, of the motive, of the drive which makes us what we are. Surely that is the problem, is it not? And what is the difficulty that makes us incapable of meeting our problem fully? Why is it that we cannot, by understanding the escapes, come to the central point? - which is, our own anxiety, our own fear, that sense of utter loneliness, despair, which we are everlastingly trying to fill, to cover up. Is not our difficulty primarily the fear of uncertainty? The mind obviously dislikes a state in which it is uncertain, in which it cannot rely on something, - on a belief, on a person, on an idea. So, is not our difficulty the fact that most of us are seeking a permanency? - a permanent explanation, a permanent answer, a permanent relationship, an idea that cannot be shattered under any circumstances, - the idea of God, or what you will, - to which the mind clings. And so, the mind projects the permanent, and holds on to it. Now, can we not, seeing all this, - how the mind acts, its process, - can we not put aside those escapes? Not as a separate entity putting these things aside and thereby again dividing the mind in itself and producing another problem, of how to bring about integration of the mind. But can we not see the full significance of these escapes, and be in direct relationship then with that central issue, instead of going round in circles about things that really do not matter? - what nationality you belong to, what belief you have, what gods you worship, - which are all really the result of immature thinking. Can we not put those aside? Can the mind not see their actual value, their significance, and thereby be free from them and so come to the central point? Can we not experiment with this problem as I am talking, so that you actually experience the freedom from these self-created illusions of the mind? And being free of them, then you can look directly at that thing which we call fear, anxiety, loneliness. It is only when the mind is free from anxiety, from fear, from loneliness, that it can then understand that which is not measurable by the mind; only then is it possible for that to take place, - not by seeking an explanation for that infinite anxiety, not by trying to reason it out, not by trying to escape from it, but by going through it. And it can only be gone through when the mind is not agitated with finding an answer, when it is not trying to look at what lies beyond it, when it is not measuring its own experiences in relation to the future to the thing that it hopes to discover. Only then, surely, can we find out what is reality, what God is, or whatever name you may give to it. But merely to speculate from this side, to have theories, to have dogmas, is surely immature, and only creates further confusion and misery. Surely the earnest, the thoughtful, must have gone through all this. But perhaps we have not gone further, - that is, to know the process of our own minds. And, when we understand the full significance of our own minds, then the division between the thinker and the thought, the observer who is looking at that anxiety or fear and trying to overcome it, surely disappears. There is only then that state of being which is fear, or anxiety, or loneliness, - not the observer of fear. That integration between the thinker and the thought takes place only when the mind has completely put aside all escapes, and is not trying to find an answer. Because, whatever movement the mind makes in trying to understand the central issue must be based on time, on the past. And time comes into being only when there is fear and desire. So, realizing all that, is it not possible for the mind, being free from those escapes, to look at itself, not as the thinker looking at his thoughts, as the experiencer experiencing, but merely observing the state of the mind, being aware without this division? That integrated state comes only when there is no desire to experience something more, the greater than what is. And, if we can understand what is and go beyond it, then we shall find out what love is. And love is the only remedy and the only revolution that can bring about order. But unfortunately most of us are not very serious or earnest. Earnestness, surely, means discovering the process of one's own thinking, - not multiplying beliefs or rituals or all that nonsense, but understanding the ways of our own thinking, the motives, the pursuits, the activities, the chatterings of the mind, from which all mischief arises. Having understood them, they will naturally come to an end; and thereby the mind, being free from its own pettiness, can penetrate without effort, without that constant battle, and discover what is beyond itself. Question: I have tried writing down my thoughts with a view, to bringing thought to an end, as you once suggested. Do you still suggest this? I have not found it very helpful myself, as it seems to become a sort of diary. Krishnamurti: Without understanding the process of thought, how thought comes into being, the ways of your own individual thinking, how your thought is driven by motives, by desires, by anxieties, - without knowing the whole content of thought you cannot possibly bring about tranquillity. I suggested once that by writing down, being acquainted with your own thinking, with your own thought, perhaps self-knowledge would come out of it. For without self-knowledge there is no understanding. Without knowing the intricacies of your own thought, at both the conscious and the unconscious levels, without knowing the depths of it, then, do what you will, all superficial activities of control, of domination, of adjustment, of what to believe and what not to believe, are utterly useless. So, perhaps you can get to know yourself more deeply, not only by observing superficially your daily thoughts, but also by writing them down; and perhaps thereby you will release the unconscious motives, the unconscious pursuits, desires and fears. But, if you have a motive, - that by writing down your thoughts you will put an end to thinking, - then obviously the thing becomes a diary. Because you want a result; and it's very easy to produce a result. You can have an end and achieve a goal, - but that does not mean you understand the whole process of yourself, the total process of yourself. The intention is, surely, not how to achieve a result, but to understand yourself, and also to understand why the mind craves for a result. In achieving a result the mind feels secure, there is a satisfaction, a sense of permanency, a vanity, a conceit. So, after all, what is important is, is it not?, to understand yourself. Not, what your values are, - your nationality, belief, religion, church, and all the rest of it; those are all immature activities of the mind. But, what is important is, is it not?, to understand the ways of your thinking, to know yourself. And you can only do that by observing your own thinking, your own reactions being aware of your dreams, of your words, of your gestures of your whole being. And that you can observe in the bus, in relationship, all the time if you wish. But for most of us that becomes very strenuous; and so, without actually experiencing, we repeat phrases, and thereby prevent the actual discovery of the process of own thinking. After all, as long as the mind is active, or merely concentrated on a particular idea or a particular desire, it is not free. Thought can project, and worship that which it has projected. With us, that is almost always the case. So, one has to be aware of the activities of the mind, its reactions. And, only then can thought come to an end. Not, as a result, as a thing to be willed, towards which the mind disciplines itself, suppressing, rejecting, sublimating itself, and so on. But the ending of the thought is an indication that the mind is actually tranquil, still. But if it is merely a result, then the mind is in a state of stagnation. Because, the mind again wants to go further; so every result, everything that has been conquered, has to be reconquered, broken again. So the mind, through understanding itself at all its different levels, comes to a state when it is still. And this is not a long, tedious, tiresome, boring process. You know very well what you think and what you feel, if you are at all aware, sensitive to yourself. You do not have to be analysed, dissected, - that is a lazy man's game. But we know, actually inwardly, our own conflicts, and the cause of those conflicts, their significance, what lies behind them. But we don't want to look at it, we don't want to face it. And so, we play around in circles, never coming to the centre. So, the ending of thought is essential; because the mind must be utterly tranquil, without any movement backwards or forwards, -for movement indicates time, in which there is fear and desire. So, when the mind is utterly tranquil, then only is it possible for that which is not nameable to come into being. Question: My wife and I quarrel. We seem to like each other, but yet this wrangling goes on. We have tried several ways of putting an end to this ugliness, but we seem unable to be psychologically free of each other. What do you suggest? Krishnamurti: As long as there is dependency, there must be tension. If I depend on you as an audience in order to fulfil myself, in order to feel that I am somebody talking to a vast number of people, then I depend on you, I exploit you, you are necessary to me psychologically. This dependence is called love, and all our relationship is based on it. Psychologically I need you, and psychologically you need me. Psychologically you become important in my relationship with you, because you fill my needs, -not only physically, but also inwardly. Without you, I am lost, I am uncertain. I depend upon you; I love you. Whenever that dependence is questioned, there is uncertainty, - and then I am afraid. And to cover up that fear I resort to all kinds of subterfuges which will help me to get away from that fear. We know all this, -we use property, knowledge, gods, illusions, relationship, as a means to cover our own emptiness, our own loneliness, and so these things become very important. The things which have become our escapes become extraordinarily valuable. So, as long as there is dependence, there must be fear. It is not love. You may call it love; you may cover it up with any pleasant-sounding word. But actually, beneath it there is a void, there is the wound which cannot be healed by any method, which can only come to an end when you are conscious of it, aware of it, understand it. And there can be understanding only when you are not seeking an explanation. You see, the questioner demands an explanation; he wants words from me. And we are satisfied by words. The new explanation, if it is new, you will repeat. But the problem is still there; there will still be wrangling. But when once we understand this process of dependence, - the outward as well as the inward, the hidden dependencies, the psychological urgencies, the demand for the more, - when we understand those things, only then, surely, is there a possibility of love. Love is neither personal nor impersonal; it is a state of being. It is not of the mind; the mind cannot acquire it. You cannot practise love, or through meditation acquire it. It comes into being only when there is no fear, when this sense of anxiety, loneliness, has ceased, when there is no dependence or acquisition. And that comes only when we understand ourselves, when we are fully cognizant of our hidden motives, when the mind can delve into the depths of itself without seeking an answer, an explanation, when it is no longer naming. Surely one of our difficulties is, is it not?, that most of us are satisfied with the superficialities of life, - with explanations, chiefly. And we think we have solved all things by explaining them, - which is the activity of the mind. As long as we can name, recognize, we think we have achieved something, and the moment there is the idea of no recognition no naming, no explanation, then the mind gets confused. But only when there are no explanations, when the mind is not caught in words, is it possible for love to come into being. Question: Does not what you are talking about require time and leisure? - whereas most of us are occupied with earning a livelihood, which takes most of our time. Are you speaking for those who are old and retired, or for the ordinary man who has to work? Krishnamurti: What do you think? You have leisure, you have time, even though you have to earn a livelihood. It may take most of your time; but you have at least an hour to yourself during the day, have you not; there is some time when you have leisure. We use that leisure for various activities, to relax from the things which we have been doing all day, which are boring, routine. But even after you have relaxed, surely you still have more leisure, have you not? And even while you are working you can be aware of your own thoughts. Even while working at things that do not please you, a routine, a job which is not your vocation, but which modern civilization forces you into, - even while you are turning over a machine, surely you have time, you can observe your own thinking! Most of your work is automatic, because you are highly trained. But there is a part of you that is observing, that is looking out of the window, that is seeking an answer to this confusion, that goes and joins societies, that goes in for meditation, rituals, churches. So, you have enough leisure which, if rightly employed, will break your routine, will bring about action, a revolution, in your life, - which the respectable do not want, of which those well-established with name, with property, with position, have a dread. We want to alter the outward things without inward revolution. But there must be the inward revolution first, which will bring about outward order. This is not just a phrase. But that inward revolution is not possible, either collectively or individually, if each one of us does not go into this whole problem of ourselves. You see, it is you and I who are tackling the problem; the problem is not outside you and me. The problems of war, peace, competition, ruthlessness, cruelty, - we are creating these, you and I. And without understanding the total process of ourselves, mere change of occupation, or having leisure, will have little significance. This is not, surely, for the old or for the young. For anyone who thinks at all, who wants to find out, surely age is not of importance. But we put wrong values on these things, and thereby create more problems. Question: I have read a great deal, and have studied the religions of both East and West, and my knowledge of these things is fairly extensive. I have listened to you now for several years, but what eludes me is this thing which you call the creative being or state. Could you go a little further into the matter? Krishnamurti: Perhaps you and I can experiment for the next ten minutes, and see if we cannot go further, more deeply, - not theoretically but actually, - into what it means to be creative. The difficulty with most of us is that we know too much about these matters. We have read a great deal about Eastern philosophy, or Western theories, - which actually becomes a barrier to discovery, does it not? So our knowledge becomes an impediment. Because, our knowledge has already tasted what the creative state is, what God is; because, we have read the descriptions of the experiences of others. So, when we are full of that, we can only compare; and comparison is not experiencing, comparison is not discovery. So, the thing which we have acquired through centuries as knowledge, that which is measurable by memory, - that has to come to an end, has it not? Which means, that our mind, with all its experience, its knowledge of what we have experienced yesterday, or what we have read of the descriptions by others of that state, -all that must be set aside, must it not? Because this thing must be completely original. God must be something never experienced before. It must be something unrecognizable by the mind. If it is recognized, it is not the new, it is not the timeless. So, seeing the truth of that, - not theoretically but actually, -cannot the mind be free of the old? Not, free through suggestion, but through seeing the truth of it, - that as long as the mind, which is the result of time, is capable of measuring, recognizing, projecting, desiring, then it cannot possibly be in a state which is creative. The new cannot be in the old. The old can recognize nothing but its own projections. So, the activity of the mind must completely cease. And it ceases when we understand all these things, when we see the truth of them. So, let us just listen, - not exercise our minds, but listen, - to find out, to discover, how the mind, by its own activities, which are based on time, of the past, of memories of what we have learned, and of the things we have forgotten, is preventing the creative state. When that is seen, understood, then there is a freedom from it. So, knowledge must be completely set aside for the mind to be still. And then only is it possible for that state, which cannot be described, to come into being. That state is not a permanent state, a thing of time, continuous. It is not a state to be cultivated, to be acquired and held. It exists from moment to moment, without any invitation from the mind. And no amount of reading about it, no amount of your practice, discipline, theories, will ever actually bring that state into being. Only when the mind is completely free from its own activities, from its own demands, is it possible for that creative state to come into being. April 15, 1952 LONDON 4TH PUBLIC TALK 16TH APRIL 1952 It seems to me that one of our most difficult problems is to coordinate or integrate idea with action. Most of us are aware that there is a gap between action and idea, and we are everlastingly trying to bridge this gap. And I think it is important to understand that there will always be a division between idea and action so long as we do not understand and go fully into the question of consciousness, and experience direct relationship between the idea and action itself. For most of us, idea is very important, - idea being symbol, image, words. And we try to approximate action to that idea. And the problem then arises of how to bridge the gap, how to put idea into action. And I would like to go into that problem this evening. Most of us are aware that envy is the basis of most of our action. Envy, or acquisitiveness, - our social structure is based on that. And the thoughtful, the earnest, obviously see that there must be freedom from envy. And being aware that there must be freedom, how does one set about it? There is the idea first; and then we inquire how to relate it to action. Obviously there must be freedom from envy, because it is a deteriorating factor, antisocial, and so on. For innumerable reasons we are well aware that envy is a quality, an impulse, a reaction, which must be eradicated. Now how is one to do it? Can one do it through the process of time, through constant denial, through suppression? Or is there a different approach, a different way of looking at it altogether? How can the mind be free from that reaction called envy, upon which most of our existence is based? Because obviously, if we take time, practise a gradual diminution of it, we are not entirely free of it. The process of time will not give to the mind a freedom from envy. Virtue, after all, is freedom, - not, a cultivation of any particular quality. The more you cultivate a quality, the more you strengthen the self, the me. So it must have struck most of us that we are faced with this problem of how to be free from a particular quality, how to set about it. If we merely cultivate its opposite, we are still held in the opposite, and there is no freedom. Virtue is, after all, a state of being free, and not, being held in a particular quality, - which limits the mind. So, the problem is, is it not? - how can one deal with a particular quality, - let us say, for example, envy, - and be free of it, immediately? - not, take time, gradually eradicate it, but be immediately free. Is it possible to be free completely? To answer that question deeply, and not merely superficially, we must examine, must we not?, the process of consciousness. That is, we must know, or be aware of our approach to the problem, - how we think, how we regard the problem, in what way we approach it, with what attitude, - not only at the superficial level of the mind, but in the hidden layers. All that is surely the process of consciousness. So, if we are to be completely rid of this thing called envy, we must know how we are looking at it, - with what attitude, with what motive, with what intention we approach it. Which means, how does our mind, both the conscious as well as the unconscious, react to it? That is, are we in direct relationship with it, or are we merely dealing with words and ideas without being in direct contact with the quality? I do not know if I am making my- self clear on this point, - perhaps not. So, let me elaborate a little more. What is our consciousness? - consciousness being our mind, both the hidden and the superficial. It is obviously the result of time, - time being memory, images, words, all of which, accumulated, respond to any particular problem, to any challenge, to any question. And our thinking, based on that memory, is verbal. That is, there is no thinking without words, without symbols, without images. So with that background, with that consciousness, we approach the problem of envy, which we are taking as an example. We are never directly in relation with the reaction called envy, but only with the word. Am I directly experiencing envy, am I in relation with it, - or, with the word called envy? Am I in contact with that reaction, immediately and fully aware of it, without giving it a name, without giving it a term? Or, do I recognize envy through the word? If I can experience envy directly, without giving it a term, a name, then there is quite a different experience. But if I am only in relation with that reaction, verbally, through a word, through an image, then it is not a true experience. So, if we would be completely free from a particular quality such as envy, surely we must find out whether we are experiencing it directly, without the medium of words, or whether the word is giving us the so-called experience. If we are concerned with the word, with the idea, and are in relation only with the idea, then the problem arises, how to relate the idea to action. That is, we are aware that we are envious; but are we aware merely verbally, or are we experiencing envy directly, without giving to that reaction a name? I do not know if you have ever tried it? Take, for example, your sudden awareness that you are jealous. How are you aware of it? Are you aware of it because you recognize it through the word, or are you aware of it as an actual experience, without giving it a word, a name, a term? I think it is important to find this out. Because if you can have direct relationship with it, then you will see that there is complete freedom from the thing which we have named. But if you are aware of the feeling through the word, through the symbol, through memory, then the problem arises of how to relate the idea to action. Perhaps we can make this a little more simple. I am envious; I am jealous. How am I to get rid of it? I see its complications, its conflicts, the uselessness of it. And, how am I to proceed to be free from it? Am I to suppress it, analyse it, discipline myself to resist it? - which all takes time, and which brings about conflict between idea and action, does it not? I want to be free from it, but actually I am not. So, there is the idea of wanting to be free, and the actuality of not being free. What is important is the actuality, the reality, not, "I want to be free". So, how am I to set about being free from this quality which I have termed envy? Obviously discipline does not get rid of it. If I create a resistance against it, that resistance does not bring understanding; nor does the cultivation of its opposite, which only creates further conflict. So, how am I to be free from it? We know the usual, habitual, traditional approach, - which is, by gradually attacking, resisting, disciplining ourselves against it; and one sees that still one is not actually free from it. I wonder if you have ever thought about it in a different way? There must be a different approach; and that is what we are trying to find out. There is a different approach if I can experience the reaction of envy directly, without naming it. And that is why we have to examine, understand, how our consciousness works, which is really quite a complicated process. We think we understand something when we give it a name; when we can put a label on something, we think we have grasped the full significance of it. So to us, words, symbols, ideas, are very important. And our consciousness is made up of these, - of words, of symbols, of ideas, - which represent our memories. So our memories recognize the reaction called envy, and therefore there is no direct experience of that feeling, but only the recollection of it. But if we can look at that reaction without verbalizing it, without giving it a name, then you will see you are experiencing it directly for the first time. And I think that is most important, - to experience the feeling, the reaction, for the first time, as it were, afresh, without giving it a name. It is the name that creates the barrier. Perhaps you will experiment with this; and you will see how difficult it is to experience something new. Because memory is always intervening, recognizing, and saying "Yes, that is jealousy, that is envy, the thing which I must get rid of". So, memory creates the idea, and that idea creates its own feeling, its own reactions, and therefore you are only in relationship with the idea, and not in direct relationship with the problem. So when we have a problem from which we feel there must be complete freedom, such as envy, it is important, is it not?, to find out how our minds approach it, what our reactions are, how we are experiencing that quality, whether the experience is direct or merely through a word. And it is surely only when we can experience something anew, afresh, that there is a possibility of understanding it fully, completely. If we bring to it all our recollections, all our memories, the names, the conditioning influences, then we are not experiencing it directly; at all; and so the problem ever increases, multiplies, and keeps going. Most of us know that although we have struggled against envy we are not free from it. It is virtue which brings freedom, - not, being caught in words, which bring only a limitation, a respectability, a habit, to the mind. Question: I have lived through two catastrophic world wars. fought in one, and became a displaced person in the other. I realize that the individual who has no control over these events has very little purpose in life. What is the point of this existence? Krishnamurti: I wonder how you and I, as two individuals, regard this problem? There is the historical process; and what is the relationship of the individual to that process? As an individual, what can you do about the wars? Probably, very little. Because wars come into being for various reasons, - economic, psychological, and so on; and how can you stop all that? You cannot, surely, stop the process of war, which multitudes have set going. But you as an individual can step out of it, can you not?, whatever the consequences to yourself. Can you, as an individual, eradicate from your own heart and mind those qualities that create antagonism, hatred, enmity? If you cannot, you are obviously contributing to the cause of war. Take, as an example, nationalism, - the feeling of being a separate group of people, - in which the individual fulfils himself, finds satisfaction. Inwardly, we are poor, insufficient, lonely; and when we identify ourselves with a particular group of people as Hindu, Russian or English, obviously we feel secure. And that security we must protect. In pursuing the security we long for, we exploit and are exploited. Now, can you, as an individual, be free from that nationalistic feeling? And when you are free, is it not possible to look upon this historical process with an entirely different attitude? The questioner wants to know, if he is not responsible for these wars, if he has no control over them, what is the purpose of living? But is it not important to find out first if you, as an individual, cannot be free from all the forces, influences, that create war? Can you not actually bring about an inward revolution, - not theoretically but actually, - so that you are a free human being, who experiences love, and who, because he is free from antagonism, from hatred, will find the right answer to the question? You see, our problem is, is it not?, that we have no love. If the mother really loved her child, if the parents loved, they would jolly well see that there was no war! But to the parents, the prestige and well-being of the country, of a certain group, is more important than love of the child. If one really loved, if there was that feeling of love, then surely you would prevent war. But, not having that inward reality, we resort to all kinds of systems, governments; we look to politicians, various methods, to prevent war. And we will never succeed. Because, we have not, as individuals, solved the problem in ourselves. We would rather remain segregated, enclosed within nationalistic ideologies, in a world of beliefs, and so be separated, be one against the other. And until we solve that problem, - how the individual is seeking security, and thereby causing antagonism, hatred, enmity, - wars of one kind or another will always go on. When we know for ourselves that we are free, then the purpose of existence comes into being without our asking. Freedom does not come into being through the mere cultivation of virtue, but only when there is that quality of love which is not of the mind. Question: When trying to empty the mind in order to still it, I obtain a kind of blank mind. How do I know that this state is not simply dozing? Krishnamurti: Why do we want a still mind? Why do we want tranquillity? Is it because we are so tired, exhausted, by an agitated mind, a mind that is constantly chattering, a mind that is so occupied, - and to escape from that we desire a still mind? Is that it? Or, do we see the necessity of a still mind, of a quiet mind, because a quiet mind understands, can see things directly, can experience immediately? Do we see that if the mind is agitated, there is no possibility of discovering anything new, of understanding, of being free? And, is this a necessity, or merely a reaction from its opposite? Surely that is important to find out, is it not? Do you want tranquillity of the mind because you are fed up with the mind which is so active, so agitated? Surely, that you have to find out, have you not? If it is merely a reaction, then obviously the mind goes into sleep. Then the mind is not tranquil; it merely puts itself to sleep, - through various forms of discipline, controls, and so on. So, our problem is not, how to bring about a quiet, still mind, -but, to look at those things that agitate the mind, to understand those things that bring about disturbance. And when we understand those, then there will be tranquillity. When we are free from the problem, then there is a stillness. But to induce a stillness when the mind is crippled with problems, obviously brings about a dullness of the mind. So, our problem is not, how to make the mind tranquil, still, peaceful, but, to understand, to be free from those problems which agitate the mind. The mind obviously creates the problems. If there is a problem, how do we approach it, with what attitude? How do we experience it? It is that which it is important to understand, and not, how to escape from the problem into tranquillity. How can the mind which is producing problems be quiet? It is impossible. All that it can do is to understand each problem as it arises, and be free from it. And through freedom comes tranquillity. As I was saying previously, without virtue there is no freedom. And virtue is not a thing to be cultivated. If I am jealous, envious, I must be free from it immediately. The immediacy is important, is essential. And if I realize that the immediacy of freedom from that particular quality is essential, then there is freedom. But we do not realize the urgency of it. And that is where our difficulty lies. We like the feeling, the sensation, of being envious, - the pleasure of it; we want to indulge in it. And so gradually we build the idea that we must eventually be free from it. And so, there is never a complete freedom from a particular reaction. And only when the mind is free is there the possibility of tranquillity. Question: Unless the mind is occupied it soon goes to sleep or deteriorates. Should it not be occupied with the more serious things of life? Krishnamurti: Is not a mind that is occupied, with the great, or with the trivial, incapable of being free? Is not mere occupation a distraction, however noble it is? What concerns us is that the mind is so vagrant, wandering all over the place, distracted, and we want it to be occupied with something, for then it feels at rest. Most of our minds are occupied with trivial things, with the daily chatterings. And rejecting those, we begin to occupy ourselves with more serious things, - the serious things being ideas, images, speculations. And as long as the mind is occupied with these so-called serious things, we feel it is more quiet, more concentrated, not wandering. But such an occupied mind is never a free mind. It is only in freedom that you can begin to understand anything, - not with a mind that is crippled by its own concentrations. You see, we are so afraid to discover the process of our own thinking of our own state; we are so apprehensive of knowing ourselves as we are. And so, we begin to invent cages, ideas, in which the mind can be held, which offer a convenient escape from ourselves. So, what is important is the understanding of ourselves, - not, with what we should occupy our minds. There is no good occupation or bad occupation. As long as the mind is occupied, it is not free. And it is only through freedom that we can understand, that we can know, what truth is. So, instead of asking whether our minds should be occupied, we should find out how our minds work, what our motives are, the whole process of our existence. After all, we live through sensation, - contact, perception, sensation, - from which arises desire. And when desire is not fulfilled there is conflict, and there is fear. So, fear and desire create time, the sense of tomorrow, the acquiring more, being secure, the importance of the me, the I, the ego. And instead of understanding, going into, that whole problem of consciousness, we want superficial results; we want to be occupied, we want to know how to meditate, how to be this or that, - which are all escapes, distractions. So, what is important in all these questions is to go into the process of our thinking, - which is self-knowledge. Without self-knowledge, do what you will, there can be no peace in the world. Without self-knowledge there can be no love. The thing which the mind calls love is not love; it is only an idea. And you can only begin to know yourself deeply, widely, in relationship, - with your wife, with your husband, with your society. Be aware of it; be aware of your reactions, and do not condemn them; because any form of judgment, any form of justification, surely puts an end to a feeling, a reaction, - brushes it aside and does not let it flow out so that you can follow it. After all, if I would understand a child I must study him in all his moods, - when he plays, when he talks. Merely to condemn prevents understanding. Similarly, if I would understand the process of my thinking there must obviously be, not condemnation, but observation. But all our training, socially, morally, and religiously, is to condemn, to resist, - which prevents a direct experience, a direct understanding of the problem. So, the more you go into the problem of your reactions, without condemnation, without justification, then you will see that you are beginning to understand the whole process of your consciousness, of the me, with all its hidden motives. Then you will see whether you are merely reacting to the word, or are directly experiencing a certain feeling, - whether you are meeting any challenge through the screen of memory, or idea, or whether you are meeting it directly. The more you begin to know yourself, to be aware of every subtle reaction, every process, every intention, then you will see that quite a different state comes into being, - a state which is not induced by the mind. Because, the mind can induce any kind of state; it can believe in anything, experience anything. But that which the mind experiences, believes in, is not the real. Reality can come into being only through self-knowledge, when the mind, through understanding its own processes, the hidden as well as the superficial, becomes quiet, - not is made quiet, but becomes quiet. Then only is there a possibility for that reality to come into being. But all this does not imply a series of stages which the mind must go through. What is essential is to see the necessity of being quiet. And it is the urgency the necessity, that brings this about, and not, the cultivation of a particular quality or method. April 16, 1952 LONDON 5TH PUBLIC TALK 23RD APRIL 1952 Perhaps this evening we could go into the problem of effort. It seems to me that it is very important to understand the approach we make to any conflict, to any problem with which we are faced. We are concerned, are we not?, most of us, with the action of will. And to us, effort is most essential in every form; to us, to live without effort seems incredible leading to stagnation and to deterioration. And if we can go into that problem of effort, I think perhaps it will be profitable; because we may then be able to understand what is truth without exercising will, without making an effort, by being capable of perceiving directly what is. But to do that, we must understand this question of effort; and I hope we can go into it without any opposition, any resistance. For most of us, our whole life is based on effort, some kind of volition. And we cannot conceive of an action without volition, without effort; our life is based on it. Our social, economic, and so-called spiritual life is a series of efforts, always culminating in a certain result. And we think effort is essential, necessary. So we are now going to find out if it is possible to live differently, without this constant battle. Why do we make effort? Is it not, put simply, in order to achieve a result to become something, to reach a goal? And if we do not make an effort, we think we shall stagnate. We have an idea about the goal towards which we are constantly striving; and this striving has become part of our life. If we want to alter ourselves, if we want to bring about a radical change in ourselves, we make a tremendous effort to eliminate the old habits, to resist the habitual environmental influences, and so on. So we are used to this series of efforts in order to find or achieve something, in order to live at all. And is not all such effort the activity of the self? Is not effort self-centred activity? And, if we make an effort from the centre of the self, it must inevitably produce more conflict, more confusion, more misery. Yet we keep on making effort after effort. And very few of us realize that the self-centred activity of effort does not clear up any of our problems. On the contrary, it increases our confusion and our misery and our sorrow. We know this. And yet we continue hoping somehow to break through this self-centred activity of effort, the action of the will. That is our problem, - is it possible to understand anything without effort? Is it possible to see what is real, what is true, without introducing the action of will? - which is essentially based on the self, the me. And if we do not make an effort, is there not a danger of deterioration, of going to sleep, of stagnation? Perhaps this evening, as I am talking, we can experiment with this individually, and see how far we can go through this question. For I feel the thing that brings happiness, quietness, tranquillity of the mind, does not come through any effort. A truth is not perceived through any volition, through any action of will. And if we can go into it very carefully and diligently, perhaps we shall find the answer. How do we react when a truth is presented? Take, for example, what we were discussing the other day, - the problem of fear. We realize that our activity and our being and our whole existence would be fundamentally altered if there were no fear of any kind in us. We may see that, we may see the truth of it; and thereby there is a freedom from fear. But for most of us, when a fact, a truth, is put before us, what is our immediate response? Please, experiment with what I am saying; please do not merely listen. Watch your own reactions; and find out what happens when a truth, a fact, is put before you, - such as, "Any dependency in relationship destroys relationship". Now, when a statement of that kind is made, what is your response? Do you see, are you aware of the truth of it, and thereby dependency ceases? Or, have you an idea about the fact? Here is a statement of truth. Do we experience the truth of it, or, do we create an idea about it? If we can understand the process of this creation of idea, then we shall perhaps understand the whole process of effort. Because, when once we have created the idea, then effort comes into being. Then the problem arises, what to do, how to act? That is, we see that psychological dependency on another is a form of self-fulfilment; it is not love; in it there is conflict, in it there is fear, in it there is dependency, which corrodes; in it there is the desire to fulfil oneself through another, jealousy, and so on. We see that psychological dependency on another embraces all these facts. Then, we proceed to create the idea, do we not? We do not directly experience the fact, the truth of it; but, we look at it, and then create an idea of how to be free from dependency. We see the implications of psychological dependence, and then we create the idea of how to be free from it. We do not directly experience the truth, which is the liberating factor. But, out of the experience of looking at that fact we create an idea. We are incapable of looking at it directly, without ideation. Then, having created the idea, we proceed to put that idea into action. Then we try to bridge the gap between idea and action, - in which effort is involved. So, can we not look at the truth without creating ideas? It is almost instinctive with most of us, when something true is put before us, to create immediately an idea about it. And I think if we can understand why we do this so instinctively, almost unconsciously, then perhaps we shall understand if it is possible to be free from effort. So, why do we create ideas about truth? Surely that is important to find out, is it not? Either we see the truth nakedly, as it is, or we do not. But why do we have a picture about it, a symbol, a word, an image? - which necessitates a postponement, the hope of an eventual result. So, can we hesitantly and guardedly go into this process of why the mind creates the image, the idea? - that I must be this or that, I must be free from dependence, and so on. We know very well that when we see something very clearly, experience it directly, there is a freedom from it. It is that immediacy that is vital, not, the picture or the symbol of the truth, - on which all systems and philosophies and deteriorating organizations are built. So, is it not important to find out why the mind, instead of seeing the thing directly, simply, and experiencing the truth of it immediately, creates the idea about it? I do not know if you have thought about this? It may perhaps be something new. And to find the truth of it, please do not merely resist. Do not say, "What would happen if the mind did not create the idea? It is its function to create ideas, to verbalize, to recall memories, to recognize, to calculate". We know that. But the mind is not free; and it is only when the mind is capable of looking at the truth fully, totally, completely, without any barrier, that there is a freedom. So, our problem is, is it not? - why does the mind, instead of seeing the thing immediately and experiencing it directly, indulge in all these ideas? Is this not one of the habits of the mind? Something is presented to us; and immediately there is the old habit of creating an idea, a theory, about it. And the mind likes to live in habit. Because, without habit the mind is lost. If there is not a routine, a habitual response to which it has become accustomed, it feels confused, uncertain. That is one aspect. Also, does not the mind seek a result? Because, in the result is permanency. And the mind hates to be uncertain. It is always seeking security in different forms, - through beliefs, through knowledge, through experience. And when that is questioned there is a disturbance, there is anxiety. And so the mind, avoiding uncertainty, seeks security for itself by making efforts to achieve a result. I hope you are following all this, - not merely listening to me, but actually observing your own minds in operation. If you are only listening to me and not really following what I am talking about, then you will not experience, then it will remain on the verbal level. But if you can, if I may suggest it, observe your own mind in operation, and watch how it thinks, how it reacts, when a truth is put before it, then you will experience step by step what I am talking about. Then there will be an extraordinary experience. And it is this direct approach, direct experience of what truth is, that is so essential in bringing about a creative life. So, why does the mind create these ideas, instead of directly experiencing? That is what we are trying to find out. Why does the mind intervene? We said, it is habit. Also, the mind wants to achieve a result. We all want to achieve a result. In listening to me, are you looking for a result? You are, are you not? So, the mind is seeking a result; it sees that dependency is destructive, and therefore it wants to be free of it. But the very desire to be free creates the idea. The mind is not free; but the desire to be free creates the idea of freedom as the goal to wards which it must work. And thereby effort comes into being. And that effort is self-centred; it does not bring freedom. Instead of depending on a person, you depend on an idea or on an image. So, your effort is only self-enclosing; it is not liberating. So, can the mind realizing that it is caught in habit, be free from habit? - not, have an idea that it should achieve freedom as an eventual goal, but, see the truth that the mind is caught in habit, directly experience it. And similarly, can the mind see that it is pursuing incessantly a permanency for itself, a goal which it must achieve, a god, a truth, a virtue, a being, a state, - what you will, - and is thereby bringing about this action of will, with all its complications? And when we see that, is it not possible to directly experience the truth of something without all the paraphernalia of verbalization? You may objectively see the fact; in that there is no ideation, no creation of idea, symbol, desire. But subjectively, inwardly, it is entirely different. Because there we want a result; there is the craving to be something, to achieve, to become, - in which all effort is born. And I feel that to see what is true, from moment to moment, without any effort, but directly to experience it, is the only creative existence. Because it is only in moments of complete tranquillity that you discover something, - not, when you are making an effort, whether it is under the microscope or inwardly. It is only when the mind is not agitated, caught in habit, trying to achieve a result, trying to become something, - it is only when it is not doing that, when it is really tranquil, when there is no effort, no movement, that there is a possibility of discovering something new. Surely, that is freedom from the self, that is the abnegation of the me, - and not the outward symbols, whether you possess this or that virtue or not. But freedom only comes into being when you understand your own processes, conscious as well as unconscious. And it is possible only when we go fully into the different processes of the mind. And as most of us live in a state of tension, in constant effort, it is essential to understand the complexity of effort, to see the truth that effort does not bring virtue, that effort is not love that effort does not bring about the freedom which truth alone can give, - which is a direct experiencing. For that, one has to understand the mind, one's own mind, - not somebody else's mind, not what somebody else says about it. Though you may read all the volumes they will be utterly useless. For you must observe your own mind, and penetrate into it deeper and deeper, and experience the thing directly as you go along. Because, there is the living quality, and not in the things of the mind. Therefore the mind, to find its own processes, must not be enclosed by its own habits, must occasionally be free to look. Therefore it is important to understand this whole process of effort. For effort does not bring about freedom. Effort is only more and more self-enclosing, more and more destructive, outwardly as well as inwardly, in relationship with one or with many. Question: I find a regular group that meets to discuss your teachings tends to become confusing and boring. Is it better to think over these things alone, or with others? Krishnamurti: What is important? To find out, is it not?, to discover for yourself the things about yourself. If that is your urgent, immediate instinctive necessity, then you can do it with one or with many, by yourself or with two or three. But when that is lacking, then groups become boring things. Then people who come to the groups are dominated by one or two in the group, who know everything, who are in immediate contact with the person who has already said these things. So, the one becomes the authority, and gradually exploits the many. We know this too familiar game. But people submit to it, be- cause they like being together. They like to talk, to have the latest gossip or the latest news. And so, the thing soon deteriorates. You start with a serious intention, and it becomes something ugly. But if we are really, insistently needing to discover for ourselves what is true, then all relationship becomes important; but such people are rare. Because, we are not really serious; and so we eventually make of groups and organizations something to be avoided. So it surely depends, does it not?, on whether you are really earnest to discover these things for yourself. And this discovery can come at any moment, - not only in a group, or only when you are by yourself, but at any moment when you are aware, sensitive to the intimations of your own being. To watch yourself, -the way you talk at table, the way you talk to your neighbour, your servant, your boss, - surely all these, if one is aware, indicate the state of your own being. And it is that discovery which is important. Because it is that discovery which liberates. Question: What, would you say, is the most creative way of meeting great grief and loss? Krishnamurti: What do we mean by "meeting"? You mean, how to approach it, what we should do about it, how to conquer it, how to be free of it, how to derive benefit from it, how to learn from it so as to avoid more suffering? Surely that is what we mean, do we not, by, how to "meet" grief? Now, what do we mean by "grief"? Is it something apart from you? Is it something outside of you, inwardly or outwardly, which you are observing, which you are experiencing? Are you merely the observer experiencing? Or, is it something different? Surely that is an important point, is it not? When I say "I suffer", what do I mean by it? Am I different from the suffering? Surely that is the question, is it not? Let us find out. There is sorrow, - I am not loved, my son dies, - what you will. There is one part of me that is demanding why, demanding the explanation, the reasons, the causes. The other part of me is in agony, for various reasons. And there is also another part of me which wants to be free from the sorrow, which wants to go beyond it. We are all these things, are we not? So, if one part of me is rejecting, resisting sorrow, another part of me is seeking an explanation, is caught up in theories, and another part of me is escaping from the fact, how then can I understand it totally? It is only when I am capable of integrated understanding that there is a possibility of freedom from sorrow. But if I am torn in different directions, then I do not see the truth of it. So, it is very important to find out, is it not?, whether I am merely the observer experiencing sorrow. Please follow this question slowly and carefully. If I am merely the observer experiencing sorrow, then there are two states in my being, - the one who observes, who thinks, who experiences, and the other who is observed, - which is, the experience, the thought. So as long as there is a division there is no immediate freedom from sorrow. Now, please listen carefully; and you will see that when there is a fact, a truth, there is understanding of it only when I can experience the whole thing without division, - and not, when there is the separation of the me observing suffering. That is the truth. Now, what is your immediate reaction to that? Is not your immediate reaction, response, - how am I to bridge the gap between the two? I recognize that there are different entities in me, - the thinker and the thought, the experiencer and the experience, the one who suffers and the one who observes the suffering. And, as long as there is a division, a separation, there is conflict. And it is only when there is integration that there is freedom from sorrow. That is the truth, that is the fact. Now, how do you respond to it? Do you see the thing immediately, and experience it directly, or do you ask the question, "How am I to bridge the division between the two entities? How am I to bring about integration?" Is that not your instinctive response? If that is so, then you are not seeing the truth. Then, your question of how to bring about integration has no value. For it is only when I can see the thing completely, wholly, without this division in myself, that there is a possibility of freedom from the thing which I call sorrow. So, one has to find out how one looks at sorrow. Not, what the books or what anybody else says, not according to any teacher or authority, but how you regard it, how you instinctively approach it. Then you will surely find out, will you not?, if there really is this division in your mind. So long as there is that division, there must be sorrow. So long as there is the desire to be free from sorrow, to resist sorrow, to seek explanations, to avoid, then sorrow becomes the shadow, everlastingly pursuing. So, what is very important in this question is, is it not?, how each one of us responds to psychological pain, - when we are bereaved, when we are hurt, and so on. We need not go into the causes of sorrow. But we know them very well, - the ache of loneliness, the fear of losing, not being loved, being frustrated, the loss of someone. We know all this very well; we are only too familiar with this thing called sorrow. And we have many explanations, very convenient and satisfying. But there is no freedom from sorrow. Explanations do not give freedom. They may cover up; but the thing continues. And we are trying to find out how to be free from sorrow, not, which explanations are more satisfactory. There can be freedom from sorrow only if there is an integration. And we cannot understand what integration is unless we are first aware of how we look at sorrow. Question: For one who is caught in habit it seems impossible to see the truth of a thing instantaneously. Surely time is needed? -time to break away from one's immediate activity and really seek to go into what has been happening. Krishnamurti: Now what do we mean by "time"? Please, - again let us experiment. What do we mean by "time"? - ,obviously not time by the clock. When you say "I need time", what does it mean? That you need leisure, - an hour to yourself, or a few minutes to yourself? Surely you do not mean that? You mean, "I need time to achieve a result". That is, "I need time to break away from the habits which I have created.". Now, time is obviously the product of the mind; mind is the result of time. What we think, feel, our memories, are basically the result of time. And you say that time is necessary to break away from certain habits. That is, this inward psychological habit is the outcome of desire and fear, is it not? I see the mind is caught in it, and I say, "I need time to break it down. I realize it is this habit that is preventing me from seeing things immediately, experiencing them directly, and so I must have time to break down this habit.". First, how does habit come into being? Through education, through environmental influences, through our own memories. And also, it is comfortable to have a mechanism that functions habitually, so that it is never uncertain, quivering, inquiring, doubtful, anxious. So, the mind creates the pattern which you call the habit, the routine. And in that it functions. And the questioner wants to know how to break down that habit, so that experience can be direct. You see what has happened? The moment he says "how?", he has already introduced the idea of time. But if we can see that the mind creates habits and functions in habit, and that a mind which is enclosed by its own self-created memories, desires, fears, cannot see or experience any thing directly, - when we can see the truth of that, then there is a possibility of experiencing directly. The perception of the truth is not a matter of time, obviously. That is one of the conveniences of the mind, - eventually, next life, I shall reach perfection, whatever I want. So, being caught, then it proceeds to say, "how am I to be free?" It can never be free. It can only be free when it sees the truth of how it creates habit, - that is, by tradition, by cultivating virtues in order to be something, by seeking to have permanency, to have security. All these things are barriers. In that state, how can the mind see or experience anything directly? If we see that it cannot, then there is a freedom, immediate freedom. But the difficulty is, is it not?, that most of us like to continue in our habits of thought and feeling, in our traditions, in our beliefs, in our hopes. Surely all those compose our mind? The mind is made up of all those things. How can such a mind experience something which is not its own projection? Obviously it cannot. So, it can only understand its own mechanism and see the truth of its own activities. And when there is freedom from that, then there is a direct experience. Question: You have said that neither meditation nor discipline will create a still mind, but only the annihilation of the "I" consciousness. How can the "I" annihilate the "I"? Krishnamurti: Surely any movement of the I, however lofty, however noble, is still within the field of self-consciousness, is it not? You may divide the I into the higher self and the lower self, -the higher dominating, controlling, directing the lower; but it is still within the field of thought, is it not? The question is, how can the I, the me, destroy itself? I am saying that the I is a series of movements, a series of activities, responses, a series of thoughts. And thought may divide itself into the higher and lower; but it is still the process of thinking, it is still within its own field. And, can one part of thought destroy another part? That is, can one part of me put aside, resist, conceal, drive away, the other part which it does not like? Obviously it does; it covers it up. But it is still there in the unconscious. So, any movement of thought, any movement of the me, is still within the field of its own consciousness. It cannot destroy itself. All that it can do is to make no movement in any direction. Because, any movement in any direction is to perpetuate itself, - under a different name, under a different cloak. Please, experiment with what I am talking about. One part of me can say, I will subjugate anger, jealousy, control my irritability, envy, and so on. One part that controls is desirous of dominating some other part. But it is caught, is it not?, within the field of time, and whatever it does is of its own projection. That is fairly clear, surely? If it says: "I must, through belief, understand God, or attain God", it is caught in its own projection, is it not? And so long as the mind, the me, is active in projecting, in demanding, in craving, the I cannot destroy itself. It only perpetuates itself. If you see the truth of that, then the mind is still. Because, it cannot do anything. Any movement, negatively or positively, is its own projection; therefore there is no freedom from it. Seeing the truth of that brings about a quietness of the mind, - which obviously cannot come through any form of self-discipline, through any form of spiritual exercise; because they are all indications of self-perpetuation, ideation. Tranquillity of the mind is not a result; it is not something put together, which can be undone again. It is not the result of the mind seeking an escape from ideation. It comes into being only when the mind is no longer manufacturing or projecting. And that can only happen when you understand the process of thinking, your own reactions and responses to everything, - not only the conscious, but the unconscious as well, the hidden responses, the motives, the urges that are concealed. And this does not demand time. Time exists only when you want to achieve a result, when you say, I must have tranquillity within a couple of years, or tomorrow. Then come all the spiritual exercises, in order to achieve a result. Such a mind is a stagnant mind, it can have no experience of what is real; it is only seeking a result, a reward. And how can such a mind experience something which is immeasurable, which cannot be grasped by any word? The mind is only still when it sees the truth of that, immediately. And the urgency is what is necessary. April 23, 1952. LONDON 6TH PUBLIC TALK 24TH APRIL 1952 Instead of the usual talk, this evening I will try to answer some of the many questions that have been put. It seems to me it is very important to understand the deteriorating factors that destroy us, not only inwardly but outwardly. I have tried during these talks to indicate that there are definite factors that cripple the mind, that pervert and destroy the capacity to discover what is true. The discovery of what is true is not for the few, - though only the few are serious. And those who are earnest can obviously find that which cannot be destroyed. But most of us are caught in things that create constant conflict between what we are and what we should be, and we think this endless struggle is necessary, will bring about a revolution, happiness. We consider this conflict between thesis and antithesis is progress, and we hope it will create a synthesis. But when we go very deeply into it we find this conflict exists only when there is no comprehension of the inward, deeper things of life. In answering these questions I hope you will not merely listen to what is being said, but actually experience. What is important, I feel, is not merely the experience of a projection, but to experience something which is not of the mind. It is very important, I feel, to understand this thing which we call experience. This so-called experience comes to us when there is recognition of it. When we say " I have had an experience", surely we mean something that we have recognized, that we have named, that memory can respond to. But what is recognizable is not true. And it is the truth that is the liberating factor, and not the thing that we recognize. Because, recognition is of the mind, of memory, of time, of desire and fear. And so long as we indulge in these things, which we call experience, the other is not. So I hope this evening, if we can, we shall really experience something, - not sentimentally, something which is the response of memory, of what you have read, that you have accumulated and stored up, which reacts or projects, - all of which we call experience. But perhaps, if we go into this problem very deeply, we shall really experience something which is not nameable, which is not a thing of the mind, of memory. Surely, so long as we are functioning within the field of memory there is no possibility of freedom. And that is why it is important, I feel, to understand the whole process of thought, and if possible to go beyond the projections of thought. The difficulty is that in listening we are apt to merely follow the words, which evoke certain responses; and through those responses we have further reactions of sentiment, sensation. But surely, sensation, which is of the mind, cannot possibly uncover that which is timeless. So, in answering these questions, perhaps we can both go together beyond the verbal level, and experience directly that which is not merely of the mind. Question: I feel deeply moved when you talk. Is this just sentimentality? Krishnamurti: Probably it is. But if you can go beyond the mere suggestions, mere reactions, which the words evoke, then you put aside the speaker, then the speaker is not important at all. But what is important, surely, is to find out for yourself what is true; not some distant truth, unattainable, imaginary, mythical, not something that you have read or heard of, but something which you have discovered directly. And that discovery is not possible if we are merely depending on sensations. Most of us want to find something which is really indestructible, which is not of time. Everything around us is transitory; all our relationships soon weary and end. Though we are comfortable or not comfortable, have much to do or little, the thoughtful obviously recognize the transiency of everything. And the incessant battle, not only within but outwardly, between groups of people, between nations, further increases war and misery. Knowing all this, we must find out something which is not of the mind, which is not merely knowledge. And perhaps if we can discover that, not through the suggestions of the speaker, but by watching our own daily activities, thoughts, impressions, reactions, then we shall go beyond the mere veil of sentiment; and that is what is important. What the individual is, the society is. What you are, matters infinitely. That is not a mere slogan; but if you go into it really deeply, you will discover how significant your actions are, how what you are affects the world in which you live, which is the world of your relationships, however small, however limited. And if we can fundamentally alter, bring about a radical revolution in ourselves inwardly, then there is a possibility of creating a different world, a different set of values. But so long as we only treat these talks as a new sensation, something with which to be entertained, - instead of going to the cinema come here, - then obviously it has very little value and very little significance. But those who are really serious, ardent to discover what is true, do not depend on others. They do not follow, they have no authority. And it is their own discovery, from moment to moment, that is essential; for the discovery of that which is true is the only liberating factor. Question: What is the function of the mind, if thought is to come to an end? Krishnamurti: What is the present function of the mind? It is used as an instrument of survival, is it not? - to exist, to survive. And in the process of survival we have created various forms of society, various values, moral, ethical, spiritual, and so on. But the whole activity of our present mind is, in some form or other, the continuance of the self, of the me. That is our present activity, cunning, subtle, - at any cost to survive; to survive in this world, and in the hereafter; to identify with a group, or with a nation, or with a country; or to identify with anything larger, with a word, with knowledge, with a projection; ever seeking permanency, always demanding security, physically or psychologically. That is the present state of our mind, - a self-centred activity, except at rare moments; and we are not discussing the rare moments. Those things are all that we know. And, that has not led us very far. We destroy each other, we exploit each other, our relationships are constant conflicts; with that we are all familiar. Though the mind seeks security, it is destroying itself, and destroying others. Physically, we are insecure; there is always the threat of war. So, in its very search to be secure, the mind is inviting destruction. That is the state of our mind, its present state. And we say: "What is the function of the mind, if there is no thought?" Obviously, we can see what thought, self-centred activity, has produced. And is it not possible to go beyond that self-centred activity? Every form of inducement has been offered, religiously, psychologically,and outwardly; every form of compulsion, threat, we have endured; and yet the self-centred activity has never stopped; it is always the me in subtle form. And surely, to find out what is beyond thought, - which is the result of time, thought has to come to an end. I do not know if you have ever found that creative state which comes when the mind is not active, agitated, but is very quiet, -naturally, spontaneously, not induced. That state of mind, that state of being, cannot be understood by the thought process. And because we are unhappy, because everything we touch deteriorates, every relationship soon withers away, we want something beyond time. I think it is the function of the mind to discover that, to experience that. But it cannot experience that as long as there is the self-centred activity. And that discovery is not something to be pursued relentlessly. It comes; but you cannot invite it. If you do invite it, then it is your own projection, - it is but another form of self-centred activity. So, recognizing what the mind is, as it is now, is it possible to go beyond and discover? I say it is. But you cannot discover if it is merely a hobby, something you occasionally turn to. But it becomes a reality when the process of the mind and its activities are understood. Question: The memory of an incident recurs over and over again. How is one to be free from the memory of that incident, and of the incident itself? Krishnamurti: What do we mean by "memory"? How does memory come into being? Perhaps if we can go a little deeply into the matter, we may be able to answer this question fully. Is not the whole process of memory, the recollection, the recognizing process, - is not that of consciousness? Please, I am not trying to complicate the question. The question itself sounds simple; but if you would really understand it you will find it is very complex. So, we must go into the problem of what we mean by consciousness. Please, have patience; and you will answer the question for yourself. When are we conscious of anything? Only when there is friction, when there is a blockage, when there is a hindrance. Otherwise, the movement of thought or consciousness is not self-conscious. It is only when we are frustrated, when there is fear, when there is the desire to achieve a result, that there is self consciousness, - that is, the me being conscious of itself in action. I want to fulfil, I want to achieve a result, - and as long as I am progressing towards what I want there is no hindrance; but the moment I am blocked, there is a conflict. And the process of consciousness is one of recognizing, which means naming. That which I recognize I can only recognize when I name, when I give it a symbol, a term. So, the me is a bundle of memories; the me is the product of time; it is always in the process of accumulating, gathering. And an incident is an experience, is it not? And that experience comes only when we are capable of recognizing it. If I am not capable of recognizing an experience, it is not an experience. So memory, which is the storehouse of words, of experiences, - not only one's own, but the collective, - is always functioning, whether you are conscious or unconscious of it. So, it retains an incident. Having recognized it, verbalized it, it stores it away. Take a simple thing like being hurt by another. You are hurt, someone says something cruel, - or something pleasant. It is retained, and the incident is stored away. If you are hurt the feeling of antagonism, of pain, is retained. And then you begin to forgive the person, - if you are morally inclined. So, you first retain, keep the hurt; and then, being trained morally, you begin to forgive. So, the incident is held. For, if we collected no incidents, if we were not constantly active, either receiving hurts or forgiving, being greedy or not being greedy, - if the mind was not in this constant activity it would feel lost, would it not? For it, this activity is necessary, to know it is alive. So, as long as you are accumulating and rejecting, you cannot forget the incident, or the memory of it; the memory remains with you. And the problem is, what are you to do with it? - because it keeps on repeating. How is one to be free from it? To really be free from it, not superficially, you have to go into the problem of habit, have you not? Because the mind lives in habit, and the memory of the incident has become a habit. And so the mind keeps constantly going back to it. So you discover how the mind lives in the past, and you discover how habits are created. The mind is the past; there is no present mind, there is no future to the mind, the mind exists because of the past; the mind is the past. And you say: "How am I to be free from the past?" You can only be free when you understand the process of accumulation, - which is essentially based on the desire to protect oneself, to be secure, to be certain. So long as that urge, compulsion, exists, there must be the memory of incidents, and the struggle with those memories. So, this question can only be resolved when we understand the whole process of accumulation, which is the process of time, which is the me, from which all activities take place. So, to be really free from memory is to meet incidents, experiences, fully, - which is, to be aware of them without condemning, without justifying, without identifying, without naming. By being aware of every movement of thought, whether good or bad, without justifying, - merely observing, without any sense of prejudice, - then you will see that every incident, every experience, indicates its own truth. And what is true is the liberating factor. Question: How is one to expose the hidden depths of the unconscious? Krishnamurti: Before we ask how to discover the hidden depths of the unconscious, I wonder if we are aware of the conscious? Are we aware consciously of what we are doing? Are you conscious of what you are saying, what you are thinking? Most of us are not. Not being consciously aware of the superficial level, we ask how to uncover the deeper levels. You cannot, - which is an obvious fact. If I am not aware of what I am actually doing, thinking, at the surface level, how can I go deeper? But if we want to go deeper, to expose the hidden motives, intentions, purposes, obviously the conscious mind must be somewhat tranquil. If I want to find out what my deeper motives are, which are not obvious, if I want to bring them to the surface, the conscious mind must be alert, must it not?, must be somewhat quiet, inquiring, hesitant, tentative, patient. But if the surface mind is incessantly agitated, active, - as most of our minds are, - then what happens? Then there is a conflict between the conscious and the unconscious. And this conflict becomes more and more accentuated, strong, acute, till there are all kinds of psychological and physiological diseases. So, if I would discover the deeper levels of consciousness, I have to be extraordinarily awake on the surface, superficially, outwardly. The unconscious is not only the recently acquired, but also it is the storehouse, is it not?, of the past, - of tradition, of the race, of all hopes. Your unconscious is not only limited to the you, but is of the whole past. You are the result, surely, of all the past; you are the summation of all mankind. And to understand that, to go into it really profoundly, mere study of psychology will not help, nor being analysed. Analysis of the unconscious by the conscious mind cannot reveal the truth. If I want to discover the deeper levels of the unconscious I may analyse myself, or go to somebody who will help me to analyse, but what happens? In that process of analysis, of digging down deeply, can I investigate every movement, every nuance, every subtle response? Not only would it take time, but it is almost impossible, is it not? Because I may miss one memory, one layer, one prejudice, which if missed will obviously thwart or pervert my judgment. Also there is the projection of the unconscious through dreams, which need interpreting; and what if I do not interpret them rightly? Even if the analyst does interpret them rightly, the conflict goes on, does it not? So, the question is, how is it possible to open the unconscious, to let all the hidden pursuits come to the surface, not to have any one blank spot? How does one set about it? We see that analysis, introspection, will not do it; it may uncover a few spots, but the totality of it cannot be understood or revealed by a part of the mind, a division which merely observes. Surely, to understand something there must be total perception of it. I do not know if you are following all this! If I would understand a picture, a painting, I must see the whole of it, not take a part and investigate that part. Similarly, I must be able to look at this whole process of consciousness as a total thing, as a whole, not as the conscious and the unconscious; I must be able to have an integrated understanding of the whole. If I merely look at it partially, it will be a partial understanding; and a partial understanding is no understanding at all. So, can I, the observer, the investigator, look at the total process, and not at the part? Please follow this carefully, and you will see. Is not the investigator always the part and not the whole? When you analyse, when you look, when you say "How am I to expose all the layers, intimations. accumulations of the unconscious, the residue of the past?", are you not looking at it, investigating it, as an entity apart from the whole total process? Obviously you are. The analyser is something apart, looking, investigating, trying to understand, trying to interpret, translate. So the analyser is always a separate entity, looking into the unconscious, trying to fathom it, trying to expose it, trying to do something about it. Therefore the entity who keeps himself apart cannot understand the whole total process. Please follow this. So, as long as there is the interpreter, the analyser, the total process cannot be understood. And to eliminate the analyser is to eliminate the unconscious, - that is, to bring the whole thing out and understand the total process. Because it is the separate entity, the analyser, that is looking. And the analyser, the separate being, is itself the result of the past, of the total accumulation, of the race, of the individual, of the group. Surely the me, the investigator, is the result of tradition, of memory. And when the investigator, who is the result of memory, tries to understand part of himself, he is incapable of understanding it. You can only understand it when there is complete identity, the cessation of the analyser. It is only then, when the mind is really quiet, that the intimation of the totality is projected, is seen. But as long as the superficial mind, through partial awareness, separates itself and analyses, it cannot understand the totality. You can experiment with this yourself, very simply. Occasionally, when you are not concerned about yourself and your activities, about what you think and do not think, when you are quietly walking in the country, you suddenly perceive some hidden motive, hidden totality. In that moment there is no conscious investigator; you see the whole thing completely. But then the conscious mind comes in, intervenes, wants to pursue the thing further, - because at that moment it was an extraordinary experience. And the moment the conscious mind intervenes, it becomes a memory, and you pursue that memory. Memory is of the part and not the whole. So, if you can be in that state of unself-conscious perception, without pursuing the memory, then you will see from moment to moment how the unconscious totality comes up in different forms, different ways of expression. Then you will find that as the truth of each expression is seen, there is a freedom, - freedom from the accumulated prejudices, the racial antagonisms, the incessant desires which have been thwarted, the blind spots. These are all seen in moment; when the mind is quiet, when the mind is not a separate entity investigating, censoring, judging. Then only is it possible to find that which is indivisible. Question: I have done a great many spiritual exercises to control the mind, and the image-creating process has become less powerful. But still I have not experienced the deeper implications of meditation. Would you please go into this. Krishnamurti: Right meditation is important. But to discover what is the right kind of meditation is very difficult. Because we are so eager to still the mind, to find out something new, to experience something which the teachers, the books, the religious persons, have experienced. But perhaps this evening we can go into it and discover what is true meditation. And perhaps if we can experience it as we go along, step by step, we shall know how to meditate. We think a petty mind, a small mind, a narrow mind, a greedy mind, by disciplining itself will become non-petty, something great. And is that not an illusion? A petty mind will always remain petty, however much it disciplines itself. That is so, is it not? If I am narrow, limited, and my mind is stupid, however much I may discipline I will still remain stupid; and my gods, my meditations, my exercises, will still be limited, stupid, narrow. So, first I have to realize that I have a petty mind, that my mind is prejudiced, that is seeking something as a reward, that it is escaping, - which are all indications of its narrowness. And how can such a mind, though it practises spiritual exercises, controls, disciplines, - how can such a mind be free? Surely it is only in freedom that you discover, not when your mind is bound, trained, controlled, shaped. So that is the first thing to realize, - that a mind seeking a reward, a result, however much it may train itself, will experience only its own projection. Its Masters, its gods, its virtues, are its own projections. That is the first thing to see the truth of, to realize. Then we can proceed to the next thing, - which is, that a mind which has learned concentration is incapable of understanding the total, the whole. For concentration is a process of exclusiveness, is a process of discarding, putting aside, in search of a result. A mind that is merely narrowed down, through effort, through the desire to achieve a result, a reward - surely such a mind can only be exclusive; it is not aware of its total process. But most of us are trained to concentrate, in our daily work. And those who are seeking so-called spiritual heights are equally as ambitious as the worldly people; they want to arrive, they want to experience. And it is this drive to experience that forces them to narrow down their consciousness, their thought, excluding all but the one thing they desire to attain, be it a phrase, an image, a picture, or an idea. Again, such a mind is incapable of comprehending the whole. This does not mean the mind must wander all over the place. On the contrary, the moment there is awareness of the wandering, there is no resistance, there is the understanding of each wandering. Then each thought has its significance, and is understood, not excluded, not put down, suppressed. Then the mind, instead of being petty, narrow, greedy, is no longer fettered by its own compulsions. It is then beginning to be open, to inquire, to discover. Which means, really, that we must discard the whole process of what we have learned as meditation. Then meditation is not for a few minutes or an hour during the day, but is a constant process, all the time seeking, discovering, what is true. Then, as you go deeper into the problem, you will see that the mind becomes extraordinarily quiet, - not disciplined, not the quietness of stagnation, of enclosure, but a quietness. a tranquillity, in which all movement of thought has ceased. And in that silence the entity who experiences has completely ceased. But what most of us want is to experience, to gather more. It is the desire for the more that makes us meditate, that makes us do spiritual exercises, and so on. But when all that is understood, when all that has dropped away, then there is a silence, then there is a tranquillity of the mind, in which the experiencer, the interpreter, is absent. Then only is there a possibility for that which is not nameable to come into being. It is not a reward for good deeds. Do what you will, be as selfless as you like, force yourself to do the good things, the noble things, to be virtuous, - all those are self-centred activities; and such a mind is only a stagnant mind. It can meditate; but it will not know that state of silence, quietness, in which the real can be. And that reality is not the word; the word love is not love. One knows, in that silence, that which is love, without the word. And that love without the word is neither yours nor mine, neither personal nor impersonal. It is a state of being. There are no words to describe it. It is an experience which is not recognizable, because the recognizer is absent. You can call it what you like, -love, God, truth, what you will. It is that experience which puts an end to all conflict, to all misery. Question: I have listened to all your talks and I have read all your books. Most earnestly I ask you, what can be the purpose of my life if, as you say, all thought has to cease, all knowledge be suppressed, all memory lost? How do you relate that state of being, whatever it may be according to you, to the world in which we live? What relation has such a being to our sad and painful existence? Krishnamurti: Since the questioner is earnest, let us go into it seriously. We want to know what this state is which can only be when all knowledge, when the recognizer, is not; we want to know what relationship this state has to our world of daily activity, daily pursuits. We know what our life is now, - sad, painful, constantly fearful, nothing permanent; we know that very well. And we want to know what relationship this other state has to that, - and if we put aside knowledge and become free from our memories, and so on, what is the purpose of existence? What is the purpose of existence as we know it now? - not theoretically but actually? What is the purpose of our everyday existence? Just to survive, isn't it? - with all its misery, with all its sorrow and confusion, wars, destruction, and so on. We can invent theories, we can say: "This should not be, but something else should be." But those are all theories, they are not facts. What we know is confusion, pain, suffering, endless antagonisms. And we know also, if we are at all aware, how these come about. Because, the purpose of life, from moment to moment, every day, is to destroy each other, to exploit each other, either as individuals or as collective human beings. In our loneliness, in our misery, we try to use others, we try to escape from ourselves, - through amusement, through gods, through knowledge, through every form of belief, through identification. That is our purpose, conscious or unconscious, as we now live. And, is there a deeper, wider purpose beyond, a purpose that is not of confusion, of acquisition? And, has that effortless state any relation to our daily life? Certainly, that has no relation at all to our life. How can it have? If my mind is confused, agonised, lonely, how can that be related to something which is not of itself? How can truth be related to falsehood, to illusion? But we do not want to admit that. Because, our hope, our confusion, makes us believe in something greater, nobler, which we say is related to us. In our despair we seek truth, hoping that in the discovery of it our despair will disappear. So, we can see that a confused mind, a mind ridden with sorrow, a mind that is aware of its own emptiness, loneliness, can never find that which is beyond itself. That which is beyond the mind can only come into being when the causes of confusion, misery, are dispelled or understood. All that I have been saying, talking about, is how to understand ourselves. For without self-knowledge the other is not, the other is only an illusion. But if we understand the total process of ourselves, from moment to moment, then we shall see that in clearing up our own confusion the other comes into being. Then experiencing that will have a relation to this. But this will never have a relation to that. Being this side of the curtain, being in darkness, how can one have experience of light, of freedom? But when once there is the experience of truth, then you can relate it to this world in which we live. That is, if we have never known what love is, but only constant wrangles, misery, conflicts, how can we experience that love which is not of all this? But when once we have experienced that, then we do not have to bother to find out the relationship. Then love, intelligence, functions. But to experience that state, all knowledge, accumulated memories, self-identified activities, must cease, so that the mind is incapable of any projected sensations. Then, experiencing that, there is action in this world. Surely that is the purpose of existence, - to go beyond the self-centred activity of the mind. And having experienced that state, which is not measurable by the mind, then the very experiencing of that brings about an inward revolution, which is the only true revolution. Then, if there is love, there is no social problem. There is no problem of any kind when there is love. Because we do not know how to love, we have social problems, and systems of philosophy on how to deal with our problems. And I say, these problems can never be solved by any system, either of the left or of the right or of the middle. These can be solved, - our confusion, our misery, our self-destruction, - only when we can experience that state which is not self-projected. April 24, 1952. - Rajghat 1952 - 1st Talk To Boys And Girls 2nd Talk To Boys And Girls 3rd Talk To Boys And Girls 4th Talk To Boys And Girls 5th Talk To Boys And Girls 6th Talk To Boys And Girls 7th Talk To Boys And Girls 8th Talk To Boys And Girls 9th Talk To Boys And Girls 10th Talk To Boys And Girls 11th Talk To Boys And Girls 12th Talk To Boys And Girls 13th Talk To Boys And Girls 14th Talk To Boys And Girls 15th Talk To Boys And Girls 16th Talk To Boys And Girls 17th Talk To Boys And Girls 18th Talk To Boys And Girls 19th Talk To Boys And Girls RAJGHAT 1ST TALK TO BOYS AND GIRLS 10TH DECEMBER 1952 The Foundation for New Education (formerly known as The Rishi Valley Trust) has schools and Colleges at Rajghat - Banaras, and at Rishi Valley in South India. J. Krishnamurti delivered these Talks at Rajghat - Banaras, on the banks of the river Ganga, during the month of December 1952, to boys and girls, of the ages of 9 to 20. I suppose most of you understand English, because I am going to talk, as you know, every morning at 8-30, and we are going to talk over the many difficulties that are involved in education. Have you ever thought why you are educated, why you are learning history, mathematics, geography? Have you ever thought why you go to schools and colleges? Is it not very important to find out why you are crammed with information, with so-called knowledge? What is all this so-called education? Your parents send you here because they have taken certain degrees and have passed certain examinations. Have you ever asked yourselves why you are here, and have the teachers themselves asked you why you are here? Do the teachers themselves know why they are here? So, should you not try to find out what all this struggle is to pass examinations, to study, to live in a certain place, to be frightened, to play games and so on? Should your teachers not help you to enquire into all this and not merely teach you to pass certain examinations? Boys pass examinations, because they think they will have to get a job, they will have to earn a livelihood. Why do you girls, pass examinations? To be educated in order to get better husbands? Do not laugh; just think about this. Or, are you a nuisance at home and, therefore, your parents send you away to a school? By passing examinations, have you understood the whole significance of life? Take for instance, a boy who passes a certain examination, some stupid examination - because you people are very clever in passing examinations - this does not mean he is a very intelligent person. Some people who do not know how to pass examinations may be very intelligent, may be capable with their hands and with their minds: they may think out more than the person who merely crams and learns some subject very well in order to pass examinations. Some boys pass examinations to get jobs and their whole outlook on life is the getting of a job. What happens afterwards? They get married, they have children and they are caught in a machine, are they not? They become clerks or lawyers or policemen. They are caught in that machine for the rest of their lives. They keep on being clerks, lawyers; they have an everlasting struggle with the women they marry, with their children, a constant battle; and that is their life till they die. As regards you girls, what happens to you? You get married, don't you? That is your aim or concern: your parents get you married and you have children. You marry a clerk or a lawyer and for the rest of your life, if you have a little money, you are concerned about your saris and how you look and what people will say and about the quarrels between you and your husband. Do you see all this? Are you not aware of this, in your family, in your neighbourhood? Have you noticed how it goes on all the time? Must you not find out what is the meaning of education, why you want to be educated, why your parents want you to be educated, why they make speeches about education - as you heard the other day - elaborate speeches about what education is doing in the world? You may be able to read Bernard Shaw's plays, you may be able to quote Shakespeare or Voltaire or some new philosopher; but if you yourself are not intelligent, if you are not creative, what is the point of education? So, is it not important for the teachers as well as for you, students, to find out, to enquire, how to be intelligent? Education does not consist in being able to read; any fool can read, any fool can pass examinations. If you know how to read, are you educated? Surely, education consists, does it not?, in cultivating intelligence. Must you not find out what it is to be intelligent? I do not mean cunning, I do not mean trying to be clever to outdo somebody. Intelligence is something quite different, is it not? Intelligence obviously comes when you are not afraid, when there is no fear. You know what fear is? Fear comes when you think what people may say about you or what your parents may say, when you are criticized, when you are punished, when you fail to pass an examination, when your teacher scolds you, when you are not popular in your class, in your school, in your surroundings. Fear gradually creeps in, does it not? So, fear obviously is one of the barriers to intelligence, is it not? Is not the essence of education to free the student - that is you and me - from fear and to make him aware of the causes of fear, so that he can live free from it? Is it not one of the essential aims of education, from the very beginning of your life, from childhood till you go into the world, to help you to be free so that you are able to understand fear and the causes of fear? Do you know that you are afraid? You have fear, have you not? Or, are you free from fear? Do you know what fear is? You do not know? Are you not afraid of your parents, of your teachers, of what people might think? Suppose you do something of which your parents do not approve, of which the society around you does not approve. Would you not be afraid? Suppose you did not marry a person of your caste or class; you would be afraid, would you not? Of what people might say? Would you not be afraid if your future husband did not get the right amount of money or position or prestige? Would you not be ashamed? Would you not be afraid if your friends did not think well of you? Are you not afraid of death, of disease? So, most of us are afraid. Do not say `no' so quickly. We may not have thought about it; but if we do think about it, we will notice that almost everybody in the world, grown-ups as well as children, has some kind of fear gnawing at his heart. And, is it not the aim, the purpose, the intention of education to help each one, each individual, to be free from that fear, so that he can be intelligent? I do not know if this school is going to do that, or is doing it. That is what we want to do here, which means really that the teachers must be free from fear. It is no good teachers talking of fearlessness, and themselves being afraid of what the neighbours may say, afraid of their wives, or women teachers being afraid of their husbands. If one has fear, there is no initiative. You know what initiative is? Is it so difficult to find out? To have initiative is to do something original, spontaneously, naturally, without being guided, forced, controlled; to do something which you love. You often walk in the streets and you see a stone in the middle of the road and a car goes bumping over it. Have you ever removed that stone? Or, have you, as you walked, seen the poor people, the peasants, the villagers, and have you done some- thing spontaneously, naturally, kindly, out of your own heart, instead of being told what you have to do? You see that if you have fear, then all that is shut out; all that goes out of your life; you are unconscious of and do not observe what is going on around you. If you have fear, you are bound to follow tradition, some person, some guru. When you follow tradition, when you follow a husband or wife, you - as an individual, as a human being - lose your dignity. Is it not the purpose of education to free you from fear, and not merely make you pass some examinations, which may be necessary? Essentially, deeply, is it not the vital aim of education to help you from childhood till you go out into the world? Should not such education help you to be completely free inwardly from fear, so that you are an intelligent human being, full of initiative? Initiative is destroyed when you are copying, when you are merely following a tradition, following a political leader or a religious Swami. To follow anybody is surely detrimental to intelligence. The very following creates a sense of fear, shuts out the understanding of the extraordinary complications of life with all its struggles, with its sorrows, with its poverty and riches and its beauty, the birds and the sunset on the water. When you are frightened, all this is shut out. It is the function obviously of every teacher to help each one of his students to be completely free from fear, so that he is awakened to do things of his own accord without being told, without being guided. I have talked for twenty minutes and I think it is enough. If I may suggest, you should ask your teachers to tell you what we have been talking about, to explain it. Will you do it? Find out for yourself if the teachers have understood what I am talking about; it will help them to help you to be more intelligent, not to be frightened. Because, in subjects of this kind, we want teachers who are very intelligent - intelligent in the right sense, not in the sense of passing the M.A. or B.A. examinations. If you are interested in it as students, discuss this with your teacher, have a period during the day in which to talk about this. Because you will have to grow up, you will have to have husbands, wives, and children; you will have to know what life is, the struggle to earn, starvation, death and the beauty of life - all this you will have to know. And this is the place to find out all these things. If the teachers merely teach you mathematics and geography and history and science, that is not enough. So, if I may suggest, during the time I am here for the next three or four weeks, set aside a period to talk over what I have said, so that, tomorrow when you come, you may ask questions and find out more about it, so that you are awake, so that you want to question, you want to find out, so that your own initiative may be awakened. December 10, 1952 RAJGHAT 2ND TALK TO BOYS AND GIRLS 11TH DECEMBER 1952 I wonder if you thought any more about what we were talking yesterday morning. Did you have an opportunity to discuss with your teachers the problem of fear, or did you forget about it with your day's activities? May I continue with what we were talking yesterday morning? This is not just a polite question. I want to know if you are interested in what we have been talking about, or do you want me to talk about something else? I will go on with what I was saying; then as we go along for several days, perhaps we can talk more easily. Yesterday, we were talking about fear. It is fear that prevents initiative, because most of us, when we are afraid, cling to things like a creeper that clings to a tree. We cling to our parents, to our husbands, to our sons, to our daughters, to our wives. That is the outward form of fear. Because inwardly we are afraid, we dread to stand alone. We may have a great many saris or clothes or property; but inwardly, psychologically - do you know what `psychologically' means? - we are very poor. The more poor we are inwardly, the more we intrigue outwardly, the more we cling to parents, to things, to property, to clothes. When we are afraid, we cling to outward things as well as to inward things such as tradition. Have you noticed old people and the people who are inwardly insufficient, inwardly empty? To them tradition matters a great deal. Have you noticed that amongst your friends, parents and teachers? Have you noticed it in yourself? The moment there is fear, inward fear, you try to cover it up by respectability, by following a tradition; and so you lose initiative. Because you are just following, tradition becomes very important - tradition of what people say, tradition that has been handed down from the past, tradition that has no vitality, no zest in life, tradition which is only a mere repetition without any meaning. When one is afraid, there is always an inclination, a tendency, to imitate. Have you noticed that? You know what `imitation' is? Being afraid, you cling to tradition; you cling to your parents, to your wives, to your brothers, to your husbands. There is always the desire to imitate. Imitation destroys initiative. You know, when you paint a tree you do not merely imitate the tree, you do not copy it exactly as it is; otherwise, it is merely photography. But to be free to paint it, you have to feel what the tree or flower or sunset conveys to you; you have not merely to copy it in black and white but to feel the significance, the meaning of the sunset. It is very important to convey the significance, and not merely to copy it; then you begin to awaken the creative process. And for that, there must be a free mind, a mind that is not burdened with tradition, with imitation. Look at your own lives and the lives about you, how empty everything is! At certain levels of life you must imitate, must you not? Unfortunately you have to be imitative in the clothes you put on, in the books that you read. They are all forms of imitation; but it is necessary to go beyond this - that is, to feel free so that you can think out things for yourselves; so that you do not merely accept what somebody says - it does not matter who it is, your teachers, your parents, great teachers. To really think out things for yourselves, not to follow, is very important, because the moment you follow somebody, the very following indicates fear, does it not? Somebody offers you something you want - paradise, heaven or a better job. So long as you are wanting something, there is bound to be fear; and fear cripples the free mind. Do you know what a free mind is? Have you ever watched your own mind? Is it free? No, it is not, because you are always watching to see what your friends say. Your mind is like a house enclosed by a gate or by a barbed wire. In that state no new thing can take place. A new thing can only come about when there is no fear. And it is extremely difficult for the mind to be free from fear - which means, really free from imitation, from the desire to imitate, from the desire to follow, from the desire to amass wealth or to follow a tradition - which does not mean that you do something outrageous. Freedom of mind comes into being when there is no fear, when the mind is not intriguing for position, for prestige, to show off. Therefore in it there is no sense of imitation. It is important to have a mind which is really free, free from tradition which is the habit-forming mechanism of the mind. Is this all too much, is it all too difficult? This is certainly not as difficult as your geography or mathematics. It is much easier, only you have never thought about it. You spend most of your lives in school acquiring information. You are in a school for about ten to fifteen years; yet you never have time to think about any of these things; not a week, not a day, to think fully, completely, of all these things; and that is why these things seem difficult. It is not at all difficult. On the contrary, if you give time to it, then you can see how your mind works, operates, functions. So you see, while you are very young - as most of you are here - it is very important to understand all this, because if you do not, you will grow up following some tradition without much meaning; you will imitate and so keep on cultivating fear, and so you will never be free. Have you noticed in India how tradition-bound you are? You must marry in a certain way, your parents choose the husband or the wife. You must perform certain rituals; they may have no meaning but you must perform them. You have leaders whom you must follow. Everything about you, if you have observed it, is a way of life in which authority is very well established. There is the authority of the guru, the authority of the political group, the authority of parents, the authority of public opinion. The older the civilization, as in India, the greater the weight of tradition, the weight of a series of imitations. So, your mind is never free. You may talk about freedom, political freedom or any other kind of freedom; but you as an individual are never free to really find out for yourself; you are always following somebody, following an ideal or some guru or some teacher or some tradition. So, your whole life is hedged in, limited, confined to ideas; and deep down within yourself there is fear. How can you think freely if there is fear? So, what is important is to be conscious of all these things. If you see a snake, you know that it is poisonous and you run away, you put it aside. But you do not know the series of imitations which prevent initiative; you are caught in them unconsciously. But if you are aware, if you are conscious of them, if you have thought out how they hold you, if you are aware of the way you yourself want to imitate because you are afraid of what people may say, because you are afraid of your parents or of your teachers; if you are aware of the series of imitations, you will push them aside. Once you become conscious of these series of imitations, then you can look at them, you can examine them, you can study them as you study mathematics or any other subject. Are you conscious why you put on kumkum? Why do you do it? Not that you should or should not. Why do you treat women differently from men? Why do you treat women contemptuously? At least men do it. Why? Why do you go to a temple, why do you do rituals, why do you follow a guru? So, when you are aware of all these things, then you can go into them, then you can question, then you can study them; but if you blindly accept everything because for the last thirty centuries it has been so, it has no meaning, has it? So, what we need in the world is not mere imitators, not mere leaders and more and more followers. What we need now are individuals like you and me who will keep on thinking of all these problems, not superficially, not casually, but more deeply so that the mind is free to be creative, free to think, free to love. Education is a way of discovering our relationship to all these things, our relationship to human beings, to nature. But the mind creates ideas, and these ideas become so strong, so vital, that they prevent us from looking beyond. So, as long as there is fear, there is tradition. As long as there is fear, there is imitation. A mind that merely imitates is mechanical, is it not? it is like a machine that is functioning, it is not creative, it does not think out problems. It may produce certain actions, certain re- sults; but it is not creative. So, here in this school, what we want to do - you and I as well as the teachers and the Trust members and the Managers - what we all should do is to go into all these problems; so that, when you leave school, you may be a mature human being, capable of thinking problems out for yourself and not dependent on some traditional stupidity; so that you may be a human being with dignity, a human being really free. That is the whole intention of education, not merely to pass some examinations and then be shunted off for the rest of your life to do something, to live to become clerks or housewives or breeding machines. You should demand from your teachers, you should insist, that education should help you to be free, to think freely without fear, to understand, to enquire. Otherwise, life is a waste, is it not? You are educated, you pass the B.A. or the M.A. examination, you get a job which you dislike and which you do not want to do, you are married, you have to earn money, you have children and so you are stuck for the rest of your life. You are miserable, unhappy, quarrelsome; you have nothing to look forward to except babies, and more starvation, more misery. That is not education. True education should help you to be so intelligent that with that intelligence you can choose a job which you love, or starve, but not do something stupid which would make you miserable for the rest of your life. While you are young, you should create the flame of discontent. While you are young, you should be in a state of revolution. This is the time to enquire, to grow, to shape. So, insist that your teachers and your parents educate you properly. Do not be satisfied merely to sit in a classroom and learn some information about some king or about some war. Be discontented, go and find out, enquire from your teachers - if they are stupid, you will make them clever, you will make them intelligent by enquiring - so that when you leave this school, this atmosphere, you will be growing to maturity, to intelligence; you will be learning right through life till you die, so that you are a happy intelligent human being. Question: How are we to gain the habit of fearlessness? Krishnamurti: Look at the words he uses. `Habit' implies a movement which is repeated over and over again. If you do something over and over again, does that ensure anything except monotony? Is fearlessness a habit? You understand? He asks, "How am I to gain the habit of fearlessness?" He wants to be fearless and so he asks whether it will come through doing something habitually, constantly, repeatedly, imitatively. Fearlessness comes only when you can meet the incidents of life, not as a habit but when you can thrash them out, when you can see them and examine them, but not with a jaded mind that is caught in habit. If you have habits, then you are merely an imitative machine. Mere habit creates imitation, doing the same thing over and over again, building a wall round yourself. If you have built a wall round yourself through some habit, you are not free from fear, you live within the wall which makes you afraid. So, you can only be free from fear when you have the intelligence to look at every problem, every incident, everything that happens in life, every emotion, every thought, every reaction; if you are capable of looking at it, examining it, then there is freedom from fear. December 11, 1952 RAJGHAT 3RD TALK TO BOYS AND GIRLS 12TH DECEMBER 1952 The last two times, we have been talking about fear and how to be free from it, how fear perverts the free mind which is creative and which has the enormous quality of initiative. I think we should also consider the question of authority. You know what authority is; but do you know how authority comes into being? The Government has authority, has it not? - the State, the police, the law, the soldier. Your teachers have authority over you, have they not? Your parents have authority over you, making you do what they think you ought to do - to go to bed at certain times, to eat certain right kinds of food, to meet the right kind of people. They discipline you, don't they? Why? They say it is for your good. Is it for your good? We will go into that. But before we go into it, we must understand how authority, the power over another, the coercion, the compulsion of a few over the many or of the many over the few, comes into being. We have to go into it; but before we can understand the process of authority, we have to find out how authority comes into being. Because you are the father or the mother, the parent, what right have you over me? What right has somebody over me, to treat me like dirt, as if they were superior? What makes for authority? What do you think makes for authority? First, obviously, the desire on the part of each one of us to find a way of conduct, the desire to find what to do. I do not know what to do, I am confused, I am worried; so I go to you, to the priest, to the teacher, to the parent, to somebody. I am seeking a way of conduct, so I go to you, and you tell me what to do. Because I think you know better than I do, I go to you. I go to the guru, to the teacher, to some priest, to some so-called learned man, and I ask him to tell me what to do. So, the desire in me, the desire to find a way of life, a way of conduct, a way of behaviour, the very desire in me creates the authority. Does it not? Say, for instance, I go to a guru: I think he is a great man, he gives me peace, he knows the truth, he knows God. I do not know anything about all this, but I go to him, I prostrate myself, I put flowers before him, I pour milk into his throat, I give him devotion. I have the desire to seek comfort, to seek knowledge, so I create an authority. Authority does not exist outside of me. While you are young, the teacher says that you do not know. But if the teacher is at all intelligent, he will help you to grow to be intelligent, to be without authority. He will help you to understand your confusion and, therefore, not to seek an authority outside. Then there is the authority of the State, the police, the law. I create this authority outwardly, because I have a piece of property which I want to protect. The property is mine, and I do not want you to have it. So I create the Government, a government which protects what is mine! So, the Government becomes my authority; it is my invention to protect me, to protect my idea, my system of thought. So, I establish gradually through cen- turies a system of law, of authority, the police, the State, the Government, the army, to protect me and mine! Then, there is the authority of the ideal which is not outward, but which is inward. In my mind, I create the authority of an ideal. I say, `I must be good', `I must not be envious', `I must feel brotherly to everybody'. So, I create the authority of an ideal, don't I? I am intriguing, I am stupid, I am cruel, I want everything for myself, I want power. That is what I am; and because religious people have said so, because it is convenient to say so, because it is profitable to say so, I think I must be brotherly. I create that as an ideal. I am not that; I want to be the ideal; and so the ideal becomes the authority. So, there is the authority which is compulsion outside. There is also the authority which is compulsion, coercion, inside - which we call an ideal. Now, in order to live according to that ideal, I discipline myself. I say, `I must be good' I feel very envious of your having a better coat or a better sari or more titles; so I say, `I must not have envious feelings, I must be brotherly'. The ideal becomes my authority, and according to that ideal, I live. So, what is happening in my life? I am greedy, I am envious; I have an ideal according to which I am living; I discipline myself according to that ideal; and my life becomes a constant battle between what I am and what I should be. So, I invent discipline, don't I? The discipline to live according to the ideal. So I discipline myself, and the State disciplines me. The State, whether it is a communist State or a capitalist State or a socialist State, has ideas as to how I should behave. They say the State is all-important. I am simplifying it to make you understand. If I, living in that State, do anything contrary to the State, I am coerced by the State - the State being the few controlling the State. There are two parts of us, the conscious part and the unconscious part. You understand what that means? You are walking along the road and you are talking to a friend; your conscious mind, the mind that is talking, continues when you are talking. But there is another part of you which is absorbing unconsciously the trees, the leaves, the sunlight on the water, the birds. There is the impact going on from the outside on the unconscious all the time, though your conscious mind is occupied; and what the unconscious absorbs is much more important than what the conscious absorbs. The conscious mind can absorb very little. You can only absorb what has been taught in the school; that is not very much. But the unconscious is also being treated in the school, the interactions between you and the teacher, between you and your friends; all that is going on underground. That matters much more than the mere absorption of facts on the surface. Similarly, this talk every morning is important in that the unconscious is absorbing. Later on, during the day or week, you will constantly remember what has been spoken about. That will have a greater effect on you than merely listening actually or consciously. You see we create authority - the State, the Police. Similarly, we create the authority of the ideal, the authority of tradition. My father says, `Do not do this'. I have to obey him because he gets angry, because I am dependent on him for my food. He controls me through my emotions. Doesn't he? So, he becomes my authority. Similarly, there are traditions - you must do this or that, you must wear your sari this way, you must look that way, you must not look at boys, or at girls. There is the tradition which tells you what to do. And tradition is after all knowledge, is it not? There are books which tell you what to do, the State tells you what to do, parents tell you what to do, tradition tells you what to do; society, the church, the temple, religions, all these tell you what to do. So, what happens to you? You are just crushed, you are just broken. You are never thinking, acting, living vitally; for you are afraid of all these things. You have traditions, authority, parents; and you say that you must obey, otherwise you will be helpless. So you create the authority, because you are seeking a way of conduct, a way of living. The very desire, the very pursuit of a way of conduct creates authority; and so you become merely a slave, a cog in a machine, living without any capacity to think, without any capacity to create. I do not know if you paint. If you paint, generally the art teacher tells you what to paint. You see a tree and you copy it. But to paint is to see the tree and to express what you feel about the tree and what the tree signifies, the movement of the leaf, the whisper of the wind in the trees; and to do that, you must be very sensitive to catch the movements of light and shade. How can you catch anything of the swift wind if you are all the time afraid saying, `I must do this', `I must do that', `What will people say'? So, gradually, any feeling of sensitiveness, of seeing something beautiful, is destroyed by authority. So, the problem arises whether a school of this kind should discipline you. See the difficulties which the teachers, if they are true teachers, have to face. You are a naughty child, girl or boy; should I discipline you? If I discipline you, what happens? Because I am bigger, have more authority and all the rest of it, because I am paid to do certain things, I force you to do them. Then, you obey. Have I not crippled your mind? Am I not beginning to destroy your mind, to destroy your intelligence? If I force you to do a thing because I think it is right, am I not making you stupid? You like to be disciplined, to be forced. I know you do; because if you are not forced, you think you would be naughty, you would be bad, you would do things which are not right. Therefore, you say, `Please help me to behave rightly'. First, should I force you, or should I help you to understand why you are naughty, why you are this or that? This means what? It means that I must have no sense of authority, as a teacher or as a parent. I want you to understand; I want to help you to understand your difficulties, why you are this, why you are bad, why you want to run away; I want you to understand yourself. If I force you, I do not help you. So, if I am a teacher, I must help you to understand yourself - which means, I can only look after a few boys and girls. I cannot have fifty boys or fifty girls; I must have only a few, so that I can pay individual attention to every child, so that as a teacher I do not create authority which coerces you to do something which you will probably do yourself if you understand. So, I see, and I hope you see, that authority destroys intelligence. After all, intelligence can only come when there is freedom, freedom to think, to feel, to observe, to question. But if I compel you, I make you as stupid as I am; generally, this is what happens in a school; the teacher thinks he knows everything, and you do not know. What does the teacher know? Nothing more than mathematics or geography. He has not solved any problems, he has not questioned the enormously important things of life, he thunders like Jupiter or like a sergeant major. So, what is important in a school of this kind is that, instead of merely being disciplined to do what you are told, you are helped to understand, to be intelligent and free, so that you can meet all the difficulties of life. That requires a competent teacher, a teacher who is really interested in you, who is not worried about money, about his wife and children; and it is the responsibility of the students as well as of the teachers to create such a state of affairs. Do not obey; just find out for yourself how to think about a problem. Do not say you are doing a thing because your father says so, but find out what he is trying to say, why he thinks it is bad or good. Question him, so that you not only become intelligent, but you help him to be intelligent. Generally what happens is, if you begin to question him, he will discipline you; he has not the patience, he is occupied with his own work, he has not the love of sitting with you and talking over with you the enormous difficulties of existence, of earning a livelihood, of having a wife. a husband. He has not the time to go into all this; so, he pushes you away or sends you to a school. And the teachers are like everybody else. It is the responsibility of the teachers, of the parents and of you all to help to bring about this intelligence. Question: How to be intelligent? Krishnamurti: You ask, `How to be intelligent'. Look at what is implied in that question. You want a method, which means that you know what intelligence is. That is, when you want to go to Benares and you ask the way to Benares, you know already the destination and you only want to know the way. Similarly, when you say, `How can one be intelligent', you know what intelligence is; at least, you think you know what intelligence is, and you want a system by which you can be intelligent. Intelligence is the very questioning of the method. Fear destroys intelligence, does it not? Fear prevents you from examining, from questioning, from enquiring, from finding out what is true. If there is no fear, probably you will be intelligent. So, you have to enquire into the whole question of fear, and be free from fear; and then there is the possibility of your being intelligent. But, if you say, `How am I to be intelligent?' You are merely cultivating a method, and so you become stupid. Question: Everybody knows we die. Why are we afraid of death? Krishnamurti: You are saying you are afraid of death. Why are you afraid of death? Because you do not know how to live? If you knew how to live fully, you wouldn't be afraid of death. If you love the trees, the sunset, the birds, the leaf, if you see women and men in tears, poor people, and really feel love, would you be afraid of death? Would you? Do not be persuaded by me. Let us think about it together. Because you do not live, you do not enjoy life, you are not happy, you are not seeing things vitally, you ask what is going to happen when you die? Life is sorrow and you are much more interested in death. You feel that perhaps there will be happiness after death. But that is a tremendous problem. I do not know if you want to go into that. After all, fear is at the bottom of it. Fear of dying, fear of living, fear of suffering, fear is at the root of it. So, if you cannot understand what it is that creates fear and you are not free from that, then it does not matter whether you are living or dying. Question: How can we live happily? Krishnamurti: Are you not living happily? You say you do not know if you are living happily. Don't you know when you are suffering, when you have pain, when you have physical pain, when somebody hits you? You know when somebody is angry with you. You know suffering. Do you know when you are happy? Do you know when you are healthy? Happiness is the state of which you are unconscious, of which you are not aware. The moment you are aware that you are happy, you are not happy, are you? But most of you suffer; and being conscious of that, you want to escape from that suffering into what you call happiness. Therefore you want to be happy consciously; and the moment you are consciously happy, it is gone. Can you ever say that you are joyous? It is only a moment afterwards that you say, `How happy I am, how joyous I have been'. It becomes a memory. In the moment of actual happiness you are unconscious of it and that is the beauty of it. December 12, 1952 RAJGHAT 4TH TALK TO BOYS AND GIRLS 14TH DECEMBER 1952 You remember we were talking the day before yesterday about the problem of discipline. It is really quite a complex problem, because most of us think that through some kind of discipline we shall have freedom. You know what discipline is, don't you? It is the cultivation of resistance, is it not? Is this too difficult a word? You see, by resisting, building something against something else, we feel we shall be more capable of understanding, of being free, of being able to live fully; but, that is not a fact, is it? The more you resist - that is, push away - the more you struggle against something, the less the comprehension. I do not know if you have talked about all this; but if you have, you will see that only when there is freedom, real freedom in which you can think, in which you can be, it is only in that state that you can find out anything, that you can know love. But freedom does not exist and cannot exist in a frame. Most of us live in a world enclosed by ideas, don't we? Is this too difficult? For instance, you say your parents or your teachers know what is right or wrong; at least you think they know what is right, what is wrong, what is bad, what is beneficial. You know what people say, what people do not say, what religion has said, what the priest has said, what your parents have said, what you have learned from the school, what tradition says; in that, you live; in that enclosure you live; and, living in that enclosure, you say you are free. Are you? Can a man who lives in a prison be ever free? So one has to break down walls and find out for oneself what is real, what is true, what is really beneficial. One has to experiment, one has to find out, not merely follow some- body; however good, however noble, however exciting, however happy one might feel in that person's presence, it has no meaning. But what has meaning, what has significance, is to be able to examine all values, all the things that people have said are good, are beneficial, are worthwhile, and not to accept. Because, the moment you accept, you begin to conform; then you begin to imitate; and a person who imitates, who copies, who merely follows, can never be happy. Older people say that you must discipline yourself. Discipline is imposed upon you either by yourself, or by somebody from outside. In school, you are told to do this or that. But it is important to find out how to be free, so that you begin to find out for yourself. Unfortunately most people do not want to find out, most people do not want to think; they have a closed mind. To have a mind which is thinking, discovering, finding out, going into things, is very difficult; it requires a lot of energy and perception and enquiry. Most people have not the energy nor the inclination to find out; they say, `It is right; you know better than I do; you are my guru, my teacher'. It is very important that, in a school of this kind, right from the very beginning, right from the most tender age to the time when you leave school, you should be free to find out, and not be enclosed by a wall of "do's" and "don't's", because, if you are told what to do and what not to do, where is your intelligence? You just walk into a career; you are a thoughtless entity and your parents tell you to marry or not to marry, to become a clerk or to become a judge. That is not intelligence. You may pass examinations, you may have very good saris, you may have plenty of jewels, friends and position; but that is not intelligence. Surely intelligence comes when you are free to discover, when you are free to think out, when you are free to question every tradition, so that your mind becomes very active, your mind becomes clear, so that you are an individual, integrated, functioning fully - not a frightened entity not knowing what to do and therefore obeying, inwardly feeling one thing and outwardly conforming to another. Inwardly, you have to break away from every tradition and live on your own; but you are enclosed by the parents' ideas of what you should do and should not do, by the traditions of society. So, inwardly, there is a conflict going on. You know this, don't you? You are all young; I do not think you are too young to be aware of this. You want to do something and your parents and teachers say, "Don't". Your aunt or your grandfather says, "Don't", and yet, you want to do it; and so, there is struggle going on, is there not? As long as you do not solve that struggle, you are in conflict, pain, sorrow, wanting to do something and prevented from doing it. So, if you go into it very carefully, discipline and freedom are contradictory. If you are seeking freedom, then there is quite a different process of understanding which brings its own clarification, so that you do not do certain things. So, what is important, while you are young, is to be free to find out and to be helped to find out what to do in life. If you do not find out while you are young, you will never find out, you will never be free. The seed must be sown now, so that you have initiative, so that you are free to find out. How often you have passed the villagers carrying heavy things! What is your feeling about them? Do you have any feeling about them, those poor women with torn clothes, smelling, dirty, without enough food day after day working without any security, earning a pittance. You have seen them, haven't you? What do you feel about them? Are you so frightened, so concerned about yourself, about your examinations, about your looks, about your saris, that you never pay any attention to them? You feel you are much better, you are of a different class; therefore, you have no regard for them; and when you look, when you see them go by, what do you feel? Don't you want to help them? No? Do you help them? That indicates how you are thinking. Are you so dead or dull because of tradition, of fathers, of mothers, of centuries of crushing down, because you happen to be a boy or a woman of a certain class and therefore you feel you must not look at them? Are you actually so suffocated that you do not know what is happening around you? So, gradually, fear - fear of what the parents say, what the teachers say, fear of tradition, fear of life - destroys sensitivity, does it not? You know what sensitivity is? To be sensitive, to feel, to receive impressions, to know, to have a feeling for those who are suffering, to have sympathy; to have affection, to be aware of the things that are happening around you. You hear the temple bell ringing; are you aware of it? Do you listen to the sound? Do you see the sunlight on the water? Are you aware of the poor people, the villagers who have been controlled, trodden down for centuries by exploiters? Are you sensitive to all the things around you? When you see a servant carrying a heavy carpet, do you give him a hand? All that implies sensitivity. You see that sensitivity is destroyed when anyone is disciplined, is fearful or is concerned with himself. You know what it is to be concerned with oneself? To be concerned with oneself implies, to be concerned about one's own looks, one's own saris, to think about oneself all the time -which most of us do in some form or another - so that one's mind, one's heart becomes enclosed and one loses all appreciation of beauty. To be really free implies great sensitivity. There is no freedom if you enclose yourself by various disciplines. As most of your life is an imitation, you lose that feeling of sensitivity, that freedom. Is it not very important while you are here, to sow the seed of freedom, so that all through life there may be intelligence which is freedom? With that intelligence you can examine all the problems of life. Question: Is it practicable for a man to keep himself apart from the sense of fear and at the same time to keep himself with society? Krishnamurti: What is society? What would you say is society? A set of values, a set of rules and regulations and traditions? You see the conditions outside and you say, `Can I be here and have a practical relationship with that?' Why not? After all, if you merely fit into that condition, into that framework of values, are you free? What do you mean by `practicable'? Do you mean earning a livelihood? Then, what does it mean to be able to live with it, to be able to do something about it? Take this for example - I do not want to take up a complex problem - you have to earn a livelihood and there are many things that you can do to earn a livelihood; if you are free, can you not choose what you want to do? Is that practicable? Or, would you consider it practicable to forget your freedom and just fit into anything, become a lawyer, a banker, a merchant or a road sweeper? Or, would you say, `I am free, and I have cultivated my intelligence. I am going to see what is the best thing for me to do. I shall set aside all traditions, and do something which I like; it does not matter whether my parents or society approve or disapprove. Because I am free and because there is intelligence, I shall do something which is completely my own, as an integrated man'. Does that answer your question? Question: What is God? Krishnamurti: Do you really want to have an answer to this question? How are you going to find out? Are you going to accept somebody else's information? Or are you going to try to see what God is? It is easy to ask questions, but to find out requires a great deal of intelligence, a great deal of enquiry and search. Now the first thing is, are you going to accept what anybody says about it, either Krishna or Buddha, it does not matter who? I might be mistaken, and so might your own pet guru. So, the first thing you must have, in order to find out any real deep truth, is that your mind must be free to enquire, not to accept, but to directly find out. I can give you a description of the truth, but it will not be the same thing as your seeing the truth. Most books give a description; all sacred books describe in words what God is; but that may not be God. The word `God' is not `God'. Is it? So, to find out, you must never accept, must you? You must never be influenced by what the books, teachers, or others say. Because, if you are influenced by them, you will find what they want you to find. So, outwardly, you must not be influenced by any book, by any teacher, by any guru; and inwardly, you must know that your mind can create what it wants; it can imagine God with a beard, with one eye; it can imagine him blue or purple. So, you have to guard against your own` desires; because your desires, your wants, your longings can project and create in your own mind the things which you want. If you long for God, it will be according to your wishes, won't it? That will not be God, will it? If you are in sorrow, if you want comfort, if you feel that you have been crushed in life, if you feel destroyed, if you feel sentimental and romantic, eventually you will create a God who will supply you all that. But it will not be God. So, your mind must be completely free; then only can it find out - not by the acceptance of some superstition or the reading of some sacred book or the following of some guru. It is only when you have that freedom - that real freedom from external influences, from your own desires and from your own longings - and when your mind is very clear, is it possible to find out what God is. But when you sit down and speculate, your guess is as good as your guru's guess, and your speculation is useless, is absurd. What is important is to be conscious, to be aware, of the influences outside, which force you in a certain direction, and also to be aware of your conscious as well as unconscious desires and to be free from all those, so that the mind is clear, uninfluenced. Question: Can we be aware of our unconscious desires? Krishnamurti: First of all, are you aware of your conscious desires? Do you know what desire is? Do you know that you do not listen to somebody who says something contrary to what you believe? Your desire prevents you from listening. You desire God. Somebody says to you that God is not the outcome of your frustrations and fears; it is something quite different. Will you listen to him? Of course not. You want one thing, and the truth is something else. You shut yourself within your own desires; gradually, you are half conscious of your own desires, you are closed in. You are not conscious of your waking desires, conscious desires, are you? To be conscious of the desires that are deeply hidden is much more difficult. You know it is like wanting to find out what is hidden. You cannot find out what is hidden, unless the mind which is looking is fairly clear, fairly free; otherwise, you cannot discover what your own motive is. So, the first thing is to be consciously aware of your desires on the surface; then, as you become conscious of them, go deeper and deeper. Question: Why are some people born in poor circumstances and some rich and well to do? Krishnamurti: What do you think? Karma? Instead of asking me and waiting for my reply, why do you not find out what you feel? Do you think it is some mysterious process? In a former life, I have lived nobly and therefore I am rewarded, and therefore I have plenty of wealth, saris and position! Or, I have acted very badly in a former life, I am paying for it in this life! You see this is really a very complex problem. It is the fault of society, the society in which the greedy and the cunning exploit and rise to the top. We also want the same thing, we also want to climb the ladder and get to the top. So long as everybody wants to get to the top, what happens? We tread on somebody; and the man who is trodden on, who is destroyed, asks `Why is life so unfair? You have everything and I have no capacity, I have nothing'. As long as we climb the ladder of success, there will always be the ill and the unfed. The desire for success has to be understood and not why there are the poor, why there are the rich, why some have talents and others have no talents. What has to be changed is the desire to climb, the desire to be a big man, to be a success. We all aspire for success, don't we? There lies the fault, and not in Karma or any other nonsense. The actual fact is that we all want to be on the top, perhaps not quite on the top but half way to the top. So, as long as there is that drive to be great, to be somebody in the world, we are going to have the rich and the poor, the talented and those without talent Question: Is God a Mr., a Miss, or a mystery? Krishnamurti: Is God a man or a woman or something completely mysterious? I have just answered that question. I am afraid you did not listen to the answer. This country is full of men and the dominance of men. Suppose I said God is a lady, what would you do? You would reject it, because you are full of the idea that God is a man. So I say that really you have to find out; but to find out, you must be free of all prejudice. December 14, 1952 RAJGHAT 5TH TALK TO BOYS AND GIRLS 15TH DECEMBER 1952 We have been talking the last three or four times about fear; and as it is one of the fundamental causes of our deterioration, I think we ought to look at it from a different angle, from a different point of view. Are you interested in all this? I wonder if you think over these talks afterwards. Or, do you think it is a morning outing and forget about it? You know we are always told what to think and what not to think. Books, teachers, parents, the society around us, all tell us what to think, but that never helps us to find out how to think. There is a difference, is there not? Between what to think and how to think. Now what to think is comparatively easy because from early childhood and as we grow into maturity and depth, our minds are conditioned in words, in phrases, in attitudes, in prejudices, in the way to think, in what to think. I do not know if you have noticed how the minds of older people are already set, like clay in a mould. Their minds are set already and it is very difficult to break through that mould. So the moulding of the mind is the conditioning of the mind. Here in India, you are conditioned to think by centuries of tradition, by economic reasons, by religious reasons. So the mind here is set in a certain pattern, in a certain mould; it is conditioned according to all these causes. In Europe, it is conditioned in one way; and in Russia, after the revolution, the political leaders have set their minds in a certain other way. So, the mind is conditioned. Do you understand what I mean by conditioned - conditioned not only superficially in the conscious mind but also in the hidden mind, conditioned by the race, by the climate, by unverbalised and unuttered imitations? The mind can never be free if it is moulded. Most people say that you can never free the mind from its conditioning, and that it must always be conditioned. That is, you must always have certain limitations, certain ways of thinking, certain prejudices, so that there can be no release, no freedom for the mind to be other than conditioned. The older the civilization, the more weighed down it is by tradition, by authority, by discipline. An old race like in India is more conditioned than in America where there is more freedom because of economic and social reasons and also because they have been pioneers. Here, we are enclosed. A conditioned mind can never be free. Such a mind can never go beyond its border, its barrier; that is obvious. It is difficult for a mind which is conditioned, built round, to free itself from the conditioning and go beyond. And this conditioning is not only imposed by society, but it is also liked by you because you dare not go beyond. You are frightened at what the mother will say or what the father will say, with what the teacher will say or what the society will say, what the priest will say. You are frightened; therefore, you create barriers that hold you. So you are always telling your children, and your children will in their turn tell their children, not to do this or that. The mind is always held in, specially in a school where you like a teacher. Because, if you like the teacher, you want to follow him. You want to do what he does. So, conditioning becomes much more settled, much more permanent. Say, for instance, there is a teacher who does puja and you are in a hostel under him. You may like the show of it or the beauty of it; so, you begin to do it. So, you are being conditioned. That conditioning is very effective, because when one is young, one is eager, creative, alive. I do not know if you are creative, because your parents will not allow you to go beyond the wall to look. You are married off and are fitted into a mould, and there you are for the rest of your life. While you are young, you are easily conditioned, shaped, forced into a pattern. If you give a child - a good, alert, child - to a priest, then within seven years the child will be so conditioned by him that for the rest of his life he will be the same, with certain modifications. And so in a school of this kind, where the teachers are not unconditioned, they are just like everybody else. They have their puja, their fears, their desires for gurus, their rituals; they do all these things; and unconsciously you, being under them and because you like the teacher and because you see something beautiful, want to do it and, within a couple of months, you are caught, your imitation begins. Why do older people do puja? I do not know, you do not know and they do not know. They do it, because their fathers have done it and also because they think it gives them a certain feeling, certain sensations, because it makes them quiet. They chant some shlokas. They feel that if they do not do it, they are lost. Therefore, they do it. And you young people copy them and your imitation begins. If the teacher goes into it, thinks about it - which very few people do - if he really uses his intelligence - which is to investigate, to question and not to be prejudiced - then he will find there is no meaning in it. But to find out what the truth of the matter is requires a great deal of freedom; then only can you investigate and find out the truth. If you say you like it, and then try to investigate, it means you are only going to strengthen your likes; and that is not investigation. If you are already prejudiced in favour of it and then you proceed to investigate it, you only strengthen your bias, your prejudice. So, surely it is very important in a school of this kind that the teachers not only must be unconditioning themselves but must also help the children never to condition themselves; and when they know the conditioning influence of society, of parents, of the world, they must help the child not to accept but to investigate, to find out the truth of the matter. As you grow, you will begin to see how various influences are beginning to mould you, not helping you how to think, but telling you what you should think. Ultimately, you become an automatic machine, functioning without much vitality, without much original thought, like a cog in a vast social machine. All of you are afraid that if you do not fit into society, you will not be able to earn a livelihood. Your father is a lawyer and you must be a lawyer. If you are a girl, you must be married off. So, what actually happens? You start out as a boy or girl with a lot of vitality, with a lot of vigour which is cruelly destroyed by the teacher who is conditioned by his prejudices, by his fears, by his superstitions, by his pujas, by his guru. You go out of the school, filled with information which you can pick up at any time; but you have lost the vitality to enquire, the vitality to revolt against your parents or society. You listen to all this and what is going to happen? You know very well what is going to happen when you pass your B.A. or M. A examination. You will be like the rest of the world, because you dare not be otherwise. You will be so conditioned, so moulded, that you dare not strike out. Your husbands will control you, your wives will control you, or society will control you; and so generation after generation of imitation goes on. There is no initiative, there is no freedom, there is no happiness; there is nothing but slow death. What is the point of being educated? Why not just learn to read and write, get married and carry on like machines? That is what parents want, that is what the world wants. The world does not want you to think, to be free to find out; because then you will be a dangerous citizen, because then you will not fit into a pattern. No real thinker can ever belong to any particular country or class or type of thinking. Freedom means not only freedom here, but everywhere, right through. To think along a particular line, is not freedom. So while you are young, it is very important to be free, not only consciously but also deep inside, to be watchful of yourself when you see the influences controlling or dominating you, to investigate, never to accept but always to question and to be in revolt. Question: How can we make our minds free when we live in a society full of tradition? Krishnamurti: First, you have to have the urge to be free, the demand to be free. It is the demand of the bird to fly, of the waters of the river to flow. Have you such a feeling to be free? If you have it, then what happens? Your parents, your society is going to force you to a certain mould. Can you resist them? You find it difficult, because you are afraid. You are afraid you will not find the right husband, you will not have the right wife, you will not have a job, you will starve, people will talk about you. As you are afraid, you are not going to resist, though you want to be free. Your fears of what people may say, what your parents may say, block you and you do what they want you to do. Can you say, `I want to know. I do not mind starving. I do not mind battling against this rotten set of barriers. I want to be free to find out'? This does not mean to be free to do whatever you want. That is not freedom. You may want to be free; but when you yourself are frightened, can you withstand all these barriers, all these impositions? Is it not very important even from childhood not to encourage fear but, on the contrary to help the child to see the implications of fear, and help him to be free? If you are frightened, there is an end to freedom. Question: We have been brought up in society. How is it possible to be free? Krishnamurti: Are you conscious of the fear? Are you aware that you are frightened? If you are, what are you going to do? How are you going to be free from fear? You and I have to find out. How are you to find out? First you must be conscious that you are afraid. Are you? Then what are you going to do? Do think it out with me. What are you going to do when you are conscious that you are frightened? What do you do actually? You run away from it, don't you? You pick up a book, or go out for a walk; you run away from it. You are afraid of your parents, of society; you are conscious of that fear; and you do not know how to solve it. You are really frightened even to look at it, so you want to run away from it. That is why you all want to be educated, to keep on passing examinations till the last moment when you have to face the inevitable and act. So, you continually escape from your problem. That will not help you to dissolve your difficulty. You have to look at it. Can you look at it? If you want to look at a bird, you must go very close to it, observe it, see the shape of the wings, the legs, the beak; you must examine it. Similarly, if you are afraid, you must look at your fear. You are so frightened that you increase fear. Say, for instance, you want to do something which you feel is good for you. But there are your parents, and they tell you not to do it or they will do something terrible to you. They will not give you money. So you are frightened of what they are going to do to you. You are so frightened that you dare not look at the results of it. So you give way and your fear continues. Question: What is real freedom? How to acquire real freedom? Krishnamurti: Real freedom must be the product of intelligence. Freedom is not to be acquired. You cannot go out and buy it in the market. You cannot get it by reading a book or by listening to some talk. It is a thing that comes with intelligence. But what is intelligence? Can there be intelligence when there is fear, when the mind is conditioned? You understand what I mean by conditioned? When the mind is prejudiced, when you think you are a marvellous human being, or when you are very ambitious and want to go on succeeding, can there be intelligence? When you are concerned about yourself - which expresses itself through ambition in different forms, not only worldly ambition but ambition to be spiritually great - when you follow somebody, when you worship somebody, can there be intelligence? When your mind is crippled with authority, can there be intelligence? So, intelligence comes when there is freedom from all this. Then only can there be freedom. So, you have to set about it; the mind has to set about to free itself from all this; and then there is intelligence which brings freedom. You have to find the answer. What is the use of someone else being free, someone else having food when you are hungry? You want freedom really to be creative. To have initiative there must be freedom; and for freedom there must be intelligence; and you have to ask and find out how to create that intelligence and what prevents that intelligence. You have to investigate life, social values, everything; not accept anything because you are frightened. December 15, 1952 RAJGHAT 6TH TALK TO BOYS AND GIRLS 16TH DECEMBER 1952 Perhaps, this morning, we can approach the problem of fear from another angle. Fear does extraordinary things to most of us. It creates all kinds of illusions, problems; and until we really understand it, go into it very very deeply, fear always distorts our actions throughout life; it twists our ideas, the way of our life; it creates barriers between people; it certainly destroys love. So, I think, the more we understand it, the more we go into it, the more we really are free of it, the greater is our contact with what is around us. Our contacts, what we can touch in life, are at a very few points, are they not? But if we can have contacts, wide contacts, deep understanding, deep sympathies, love and consideration, great will be the extension of our horizon. So perhaps we can talk about fear from a different point of view. I do not know if you have noticed that most of us want some kind of safety. We want some kind of security, somebody on whom to lean. As a small child holds on to the mother's hand, so we want something to lean on, somebody to love us. Without a feeling of security, without a feeling of safety, without a mental safeguard, we lean, do we not? Because we have leaned on others, looked to others to guide us, to help us, we feel confused, we are afraid, we do not know what to do, what to think, how to act. So, when we are left to ourselves, we are completely lost, we feel insecure, uncertain. From that arises fear, does it not? Now, there are different kinds of safeguards, different kinds of feeling of certainty, the feeling that one is being protected as when the parent protects the child. We want something to give us certainty. So we have outward protections and inward protections, outward securities and inward safeguards. Have we not? When you close the windows and the doors of the house and live inside, you feel very secure, you feel safe, unmolested. But life is not like that. Life is constantly knocking on the door, trying to push the windows open all the time, so that you may see more; but, if there is fear and you close all the windows, the knocking grows louder. So, the more outward securities you cling to, the more life comes and pushes you. The more you are afraid, the more you are enclosed, the greater the suffering, which is knocking, which is dominating, which is the questioning of life. Life won't leave you alone. You like to be left alone, you like to close all the windows, the lattices, everything completely, to be safe inside. But the more you enclose yourself, the more life comes and breaks your windows; and so the struggle begins. You want to be secure and life says `you cannot'. So, outwardly, you want security; and society, tradition, fathers, wives, husbands, push and break through. And inwardly you seek security, comfort, in an idea. You know what ideas are, how ideas come into being? You have an idea to go out for a walk, to see something. You read a book and you get an idea. You must find out what an idea is, and then see how the idea becomes a means of security, of seeking safety, something to which you cling. Have you ever thought about an idea? If you have an idea and I have an idea, I think my idea is better than your idea, and we struggle, don't we? I try to convince you and you try to convince me. The whole world is built on ideas; and if you go into it, you will find that merely clinging to an idea has no value. Have you noticed how your fathers, your mothers, your teachers, your aunts cling to what they think? Now, how does idea come into being? How do you have an idea? When you want to go out for a walk, how does it come? That is an idea, is it not? A very simple idea. The idea that you should go out for a walk, how does that come? It is very interesting to find out how that comes. If I watch it, I see that an idea arises and I cling to it and push everything else aside. So, you must find out, must you not? How that comes, the thought of your going out on a walk. That is a response to a sensation, is it not? Is this too difficult? There is the feeling which is a sensation, and that sensation comes because I have seen something which I want to do. Then, thought is created and then put into action. I see a car. There is a sensation, is there not? It is a beautiful car, it is a Buick, a Ford; there is sensation which comes from the very look of it. The perception creates the sensation. From the sensation there is the idea and then the idea becomes very prominent. I want the car. It is my car. There are outward securities of ideas and inward securities of ideas. I believe in something, I believe in God, I believe in rituals, I believe that I should be married, I believe that there is reincarnation, life after death; these beliefs are all created by my desires, by my prejudices; and to these beliefs I cling. So, I have outside of me, outside the skin as it were, ideas of security and also inward securities; remove them or question those ideas outside and inside of me, and I am afraid. So, I will battle with you, I will push you away, so that you do not touch my ideas. Now, can there ever be any security? You understand? We have ideas about security, the feeling of being safe with my father, with my mother, in a job; the way I think, the way of my life, the way I look; with these I feel very satisfied; I feel very content in being enclosed in safe ideas. Can I ever be safe, can I ever be secure, however many the safeguards are which I may have outwardly or inwardly? How can there be security if my bank fails tomorrow, if my father or mother dies tomorrow, if there is a revolution? Inwardly is there any safety within my ideas? I like to think that I am safe in my ideas, in my beliefs, in my prejudices; but is there safety? They are walls which are not real, they are just my ideas, my sensations. I see for myself when I look into both the outward and the inward securities, that there is no safety at all. I like to believe that there is God who is looking after me. I like to think that I am going to be born more rich, more noble. But it may be or it may not be. Inwardly there is no certainty, and outwardly there is no certainty. If you ask the refugees that have left Pakistan or any of the refugees from Eastern Europe, they will tell you that there is no security. But inwardly they feel that there is security; and so they cling to it. You may remove the outward security; but still inwardly you are very eager and build your security, because you do not want to let that go. That implies greater fear. Supposing tomorrow, or in a few years' time, your parents tell you to do what they want, to marry or not to marry. Would you be frightened? Of course you would not be frightened, because up to now you have been brought up to do exactly what you were told to do, to think along certain lines, to act in a certain manner, to follow certain ideas. If you are asked to do what you like, would you not be completely at a loss? If your parents told you to marry whom you liked, you would shiver, would you not? Because you have been conditioned - as I explained yesterday, by tradition, by fears - you will soon find that, if you are left to yourself, to be left alone is the greatest danger. You never want to be alone. You never want to think out anything for yourself. You never want to go out for a walk by yourself. You all want to be like active ants, talking, talking, doing something. When you are left alone to think out any problem, to face any of the things that life demands, you who have been brought up shelter- ed in ideas, sheltered by parents, by priests, by gurus, you are totally at a loss and are frightened; being frightened, you do most chaotic things, most absurd things; you accept like a man with a begging bowl, who will accept anything thoughtlessly. So, seeing all this, really thoughtful persons begin to be free from any kind of security, inward or outward. This is extremely difficult because it means that you are alone, that you are not dependent. The moment you depend, there is fear; and where there is fear, there is no love. Where there is love, you are not alone. The sense of loneliness is only when you are frightened, when you do not know what to do. When you are controlled by ideas, isolated by beliefs, then there is fear; and when there is fear, you are completely blind. So, in a school of this kind, the teachers and the parents have to solve this problem of fear; but unfortunately, parents are afraid for you and what you are going to do if you do not get married, if you do not get a job. They have fear of what people might say, the fear of your going wrong or right; because of this fear, they make you do something. Their fear is couched, is clothed, in what they call love. They want to look after you, therefore you must do this. But if you go behind that wall, behind the so-called affection and consideration, there is their fear for your safety; and you are also equally afraid because you have depended on people so long. So, you are frightened. Is it not very important, in a school of this kind, that you should, from the very tender age right through life, break down these feelings of fear and question them, so that you are not isolated; so that you are not in fear; so that you are not enclosed in ideas, in traditions, in habits, but you are free human-beings with creative vitality? Question: Why are we afraid, though we know that God protects us? Krishnamurti: You have been told that God protects you. Look what is happening. Your father, your brother, your mother have told you that God protects you, which is an idea, and that idea you cling to; and yet, there is fear. So, you have an idea that God protects you - an idea, a thought, a feeling. But the actual fact is you are afraid. The actual fact is the real thing, not your idea that you are going to be protected because your father, your mother, your tradition, hope that God will protect you. But what is actually happening? Are you being protected? Look at the millions of people who are not protected, who are starving. Look at the villagers who carry weights, who are dirty, smelling, with torn clothes. Are they protected by God? Because you have more money than the rest, because you have got a position, because your father is a Tahsildar or Collector or a merchant who has cheated somebody, should you be protected while there are millions in the world going without food without proper clothes? Really there is no protection even though you like to feel that God will protect you. It is just a nice idea, which is to pacify the fear; so you do not question, but just believe in God. If you really go into the question of fear, then you will find out whether God will protect you or not. To start with, the idea that you are going to be protected by God has no meaning. You start with the hope that the suffering poor starving human being is going to be protected by the State, by his employer, by society, by God, by tradition; but they are not going to protect him. When there is the feeling of affection, there is no fear; then there is no problem. Question: What is shyness? Krishnamurti: Do you not know what it is? Do you not know when you feel shy? If you feel shy, I ask you what is shyness? Here are a large group of people and you are not used to getting up and talking and you feel a little bit sensitive to expose yourself to criticism. You are shy of your bad speech, your incapacity to pronounce English properly and so on. In other words, you are afraid to expose yourself to all of us; we might laugh at you, we might criticize you. It is your shyness, it is your feeling of inadequacy, a feeling that you cannot speak properly that we will all laugh at you. Therefore, you either say you would like to speak in Hindi, or keep quiet. But if you felt very sure, you would express yourself. To be able to express yourself gives you a feeling of a certain assurance, does it not? Question: What is society? Krishnamurti: What is society? What is the family? Let us find out step by step how society is created, how it comes into being. What is the family? When you say, `It is my family', what do you mean? My father, my mother, my brother, my sister, the feeling of closeness, the feeling that we are living in the same house, the feeling that my father and my mother are going to protect me; the ownership of certain property, of jewels, saris, clothes. That is the beginning of the family. There is another family like that living in another house, feeling the same things I feel, the sense of my house, my clothes, my car, my wife, my husband, my children; and there is another family over there feeling exactly the same thing; so that ten such families living on the same piece of earth, feeling the same thing, have a feeling that they must not be invaded by other families, So, they begin to make laws. The powerful families build themselves into positions, they have big properties, more money, more clothes, more cars. So the ten families get together and frame laws, they tell us what to do. So, gradually, a social entity comes into being, with laws, regulations, policemen, the soldier, the navy, the army. Ultimately, the whole of the earth becomes peopled by various kinds of social entities. Then, people get ideas and want to overthrow those who are established, who have all the means of power. They break down that society and then form another society. Society is the relationship with people, the relationship between one family and another family, between one group of people and another group, between individuals and society. So, relationship is society; the relationship between individuals, between you and me, is society. If I am very greedy, very cunning, if I have great power, authority, I am going to push you out; and you are going to do the same to me. Then, laws are made by you and me, and others come and break our laws and establish another series of laws; and that goes on all the time. In society and in relationship, there is constant conflict. This is the simple basis of society; it becomes more and more complex as human beings become more and more complex in their ideas, in their wants, in their mechanical institutions, in their industry. Question: Can you become free, living in this society? Krishnamurti: While living in society, can you be free? If you depend on society for your security, for your comfort, can you ever be free? If I depend on my father for affection, for money, for initiative to do things, if I depend on him or on my guru, am I free? I am not. If I depend similarly on society - society being the instruments that give me a job, that give me protection, that give me various sets of comforts - am I free? So, is it possible to be free when I am dependent? It is only possible when I have capacity, when I have initiative, when I can think freely, when I am not afraid of what anybody says, when I want to find out something which is true, when I am not greedy, envious, jealous. As long as I am envious, greedy, I am depending; as long as I am depending on society, I am not free; but if I am free from greed, I am free. I do not mind what I do, what kind of job I get; but if I insist that because I have been educated, because I am this or that, I must become only a certain type of worker, a clerk, a glorified clerk under the Government, if I demand that I should work only in certain directions, then of course, I depend on society. Then, I am not free. Question: Why do people want to live in society? They can live alone. Krishnamurti: Can you live alone? Question: I live in society because my father and mother live in society. Krishnamurti: To have a job, to live, to earn a livelihood, to do anything, have you not to live in society? Can you live alone? For your food you depend on somebody; for your clothes you depend on somebody; even if you are a sannyasi, you depend for your food, for your clothes, for your shelter, on someone. You cannot live alone. There is no entity which is completely alone. You are always related; it is only in death that you are alone. In living, you are always related - to your father, to your brother, to the beggar, to the road-mender, to the Tahsildar, to the Collector. You are always related, and because you do not understand that relationship, there is conflict. But if you understood that relationship between one man and another, there is no conflict, and there is no problem of living alone. Question: When we are related to one another, that means we cannot be free. Is it not absolutely true? Krishnamurti: We do not understand what relationship is, right relationship. Suppose I have to depend on you; suppose I depend on you for my life, for my comfort, for my security: how can I ever be free? But if I do not depend, I am still related, am I not? I depend on you because I want some kind of emotional or physical or intellectual comfort. I depend on my parents because I want some kind of safety. So, my relationship to my parents is that of dependence; and if I depend, there is fear; and my relationship to my parents is based on fear. So, how can I have any relationship which is free? I can only have relationship which is free, when there is no fear. So, I have to set about freeing myself from that dependency so as to have right relationship; for in that right relationship, I am free. Question: How can we be free when our parents depend on us? Krishnamurti: Why do your parents depend on you? Because they are old, they depend upon you to support them. Then what happens? They depend on you, for you to earn a livelihood, for you to clothe them; and if you say, `I want to become a carpenter although I may not earn any money at all', they say that you must not do so because you have to support them. Just think about it. I am not saying it is good or bad. If I say it is good or bad, then we put an end to thinking. So, the father's demand that you should provide for him prevents you from living your life, and the living of your life is considered bad, selfish; you thus become the slave of your parents. The State should look after old people through old age pensions, through various means of security. But when there is a country where there is overpopulation, insufficiency, lack of productivity and so on, the State cannot look after old people. So, parents depend on the young, and the young always fit into the groove of tradition and are destroyed. So, it is not a problem to be discussed by me; you have to work it out and you have to think about it. Look, I want to support my parents within reasonable limits. Suppose, I also want to do something which may not pay, which may not bring me money. Suppose I want to become a religious person, to find out what God is, what life is; that way, I may not have much money; and if I pursue it, I may have to give up my family, and they will probably starve like other millions of people. But as long as I am frightened of what people say - that I am not a dutiful son, that I am not a worthy son - I never will be a creative being. To be a happy creative human being, I must have a great deal of initiative. Question: Will it be good on our part to see our parents starving? Krishnamurti: You are not putting it in the right way. I want to become an artist, a painter; and I know painting will bring me very little money. What am I to do? Sacrifice my urge to paint and become a clerk? That is what happens. I become a clerk and I am in great conflict, I am in misery; and because I suffer and am frustrated, I will make miserable my wife and children. So, what am I to do? I say to my parents, `I want to paint, I will give you what little I can from the little I have, that is all I can do'. You have asked questions like `What is society?', `What am I to do if my parents are dependent on me?' `What is freedom?' 'Can I be free in society?' And I have answered them. But if you really do not think about them, if you do not go into them for yourself more and more deeply and approach them from different angles; if you do not look at them in different ways, then you will only say `This is good. This is bad. This is duty. That is not duty. This is right. That is wrong; and that will not lead you any further. But if you and I sit down, think about these problems, if you and the teacher discuss them, go into them, then your intelligence is awakened; then when these questions arise in daily life, you will be able to meet them. You will not meet them if you only accept what I am saying. My answers to your questions are only to awaken your intelligence, so that you will think these questions out, so that you will be able to meet life rightly. December 16, 1952 RAJGHAT 7TH TALK TO BOYS AND GIRLS 17TH DECEMBER 1952 You know I have been talking about fear; it is very important that we should be conscious and be aware of it. Do you know how fear comes into being? We notice throughout the world that people are perverted and twisted in their ideas, in their beliefs, in their activities. So, we ought to go into it from every point of view, not only from the moral and economic point of view of society, but also from the point of view of the inward psychological struggles. We have been talking of how fear twists the mind and, as I said yesterday, how fear for outward security and inward security distorts our thinking. I hope you have thought a little more about it today, because you see that the more you consider the more you will be free from all dependence. The older people in the world have not created a marvellous society; the parents, the ministers, the teachers, the rulers, the fathers, the priests, they have not created a beautiful world. They have created an ugly, frightful, brutal world in which everybody is fighting somebody else - one group fighting another group, one class against another class, one nation against another nation, one idea fighting another idea, one belief against another belief. The world in which you are growing up is an ugly world, it is a sorrowful world; and the older people try to smother you with their ideas, beliefs, with their ugliness; and, if you are merely going to follow the ugly pattern of the old people that have made this world, what is the point of being educated, what is the point of living at all? If you look throughout the world, you see appalling destruction and human misery. You do not know anything about wars in this country except what happened when partition took place. You may read about wars in history, but you do not know the actuality of it, how houses are completely destroyed, how there are the latest bombs, hydrogen bombs, which when thrown on an island cause the whole island to disappear; you know what that means, the whole island vapourises into steam. Ships are bombed and they go up into thin air. There is appalling destruction due to this so-called improvement, and into this world you are growing. You may have a good time when you are young, a happy time; but when you grow older, unless you are watchful and very alert, you will always create another world of battles, of ambitions, a world where each one is competing with the other, where there is misery, starvation, overpopulation and disease. Unless you are very watchful of your thoughts, of your feelings, you will perpetuate this world, you will continue the ugly pattern of life. So, is it not very important for you while you are young, to think about all these matters; and not be taught by some stupid teacher to pass some stupid examinations, but be helped by the right teacher to think about all these things? Life is sorrow, death, love, hate, cruelty, disease, starvation. You have to think about all these things. That is why I feel that it is good to think out these morning talks together, so that you and I can explore, can think out, can go into these problems, so that you can intelligently have some ideas, some feeling about all these things, so that you need not just grow up to be married, to become a clerk, and then lose yourself like a river in the sand. One of the causes of fear is ambition, is it not? You are all ambitious, are you not? What is your ambition? To pass some examination? To become a clerk? To become a Governor? Or if you are very young, to become an engineer, or to drive engines across the bridge? You are all ambitious. Why are you ambitious? What does it mean? Have you ever thought about it? Have you noticed older people, how ambitious they are? In your own family, have you not heard your father, your mother, your uncle talk about getting more salary, or occupying some prominent position? Everybody is doing that. In our society - I explained what our society is - in our society, everybody is trying to be on the top of the others. Are they not? They all want to become somebody - a governor, a minister, a manager. If they are clerks, they want to become managers; if they are managers, they want to become bigger; and so on and on and on - the continual struggle to be something. If I am a teacher, I want to become the Principal; if I am the Principal, I want to become the Manager; and so on. If you are ugly, you want to be beautiful, you want to have more money, more saris, more clothes, more dresses, more and more and more. Not only outwardly - furniture, houses, clothes, property - but also inwardly you want to be somebody, though you clothe or cover that ambition by a lot of words. Have you not noticed this? You have; and you think it is perfectly right, don't you? You think it is perfectly normal, justifiable, right. What has ambition done in the world? So few have ever thought about it. When somebody is struggling to be on the top of somebody else, when everybody is trying to achieve, to gain, have you ever found out what is in their hearts? If you will look at your own heart and see when you are ambitious, when you are struggling to be somebody, spiritually or in the world, you will find that there is the worm of fear inside it. The ambitious man is the most frightened man, because he is afraid to be what he is, because he says, `If I am what I am, I shall be nobody. Therefore, I must be somebody, I must become the engineer, the engine driver, the magistrate, the judge, the minister'. If you examine this very closely, if you go beyond the wall of words, behind the wall of ideas, positions and ambitions, you will find there is fear, because he is afraid to be what he is. Because he thinks that what he is, is so insignificant, so poor, so ugly, so lonely, so empty, he says, `I must go and do something outside'. Either he goes after what he calls God - which is just another form of ambition - because he is afraid, or he wants to be somebody in the world. So, what happens is that this fear is covered up, this loneliness - this sense of inward emptiness of which he is really frightened - is covered up. He runs away from it, and the ambition becomes the emotions through which he can escape. So, what happens in the world is that everybody is fighting somebody. One man is lesser than another man. There is no love, there is no consideration, there is no thought. Each man wants to become somebody. A member of Parliament wants to become the leader of the Parliament, to become the Prime Minister and so on and on and on. There is perpetual fighting, and our society is one constant struggle, of one man against another; and this struggle is called the ambition to be something. Old people encourage you to do that. You must be ambitious, you must be something, you must marry a rich man or a rich woman, you must have the right kind of friends. So, the older generation, those who are frightened, those who are ugly in their hearts, try to make you like them; and you also want to be like them because you see the glamour of it all. When the governor comes, everybody bows down to the earth to receive him, gives him garlands, makes speeches; he loves it and you love it, because you feel you are honoured, you know his uncle or you know his clerk; so, you want to bask in the sunshine of his ambitions, of his achievements. So you are easily caught in it, in the web of the older generation, in a world which is most ugly, most monstrous. Only if you are very careful, if you are watchful and if you question all the time, if you do not accept and are not afraid, then you will not be caught in it, then you will create a different world. That is why it is very important that you should find the right vocation. You know what `vocation' means? Something which you will love to do, which is natural. After all, that is the function of education, of a school of this kind, to help you to grow independently so that you are not ambitious but can find your true vocation. The ambitious man has never found his true vocation. If he had found, he would never be ambitious. Is it not the function of the teacher, of the Principal, of the Manager, of the Trustees of this place to help you to be intelligent - which means, not to be afraid - so that you can choose, you can find out your own vocation, your own way of life, the way you want to live, the way you want to earn your own livelihood. This means really a revolution in thinking because, in the world, the man who can talk, the man who can write, the man who can preach, the man who can rule, the man who has a car, is thought to be in a marvellous position; and the man who digs in the garden, who cooks, who builds a house, is despised. Have you noticed your own feelings, how you look at the mason, the man who builds, who mends the road, the driver of a taxi or a rickshaw, how you regard him with absolute contempt? To you he does not even exist; but when you look at a man with a title, an M.A., or a B.A., a little clerk, a banker, a merchant, a pundit, a minister, immediately you respect him and disregard the tongawala. But if you really found your true vocation, then you would break down this system completely; because then you might be a gardener, a painter, because then you would be doing something which you really love with your being. That is not ambition, to do something marvellously, completely, truly according to what you think; that is not ambition; in that there is no fear. But it is very difficult, because that means that the teacher has to pay a great deal of attention to teach each one of his boys to find out what he is capable of, to help him to find out, to help him not to be afraid but to question to investigate. You may be a writer, you may be a poet, you may be a painter; and if you love that, you have no ambition; because, in that, you want to be, to create; it is a thing which you love. In love, there is no ambition. So, is it not very important when you are young, when you are in a place like this, to help you to awaken your own intelli- gence, so that you naturally find your vocation? Then, if you find it and if it is a true thing, then you will love it right through life. In that, there will be no ambition, no competition, no struggle, no fighting each other for position, for prestige; and perhaps then you will be able to create a new world. Then, in that world, all the ugly things of the old generation will not exist, their wars, their mischief, their separative gods, their rituals which mean absolutely nothing, their government, their violence. In a place of this kind, the responsibility of the teacher and of you is very great, because you can create a new world, a new culture, a new way of life. Question: What is calamity? Krishnamurti: Why are you asking that? Do you want the dictionary meaning? May I suggest then that you look up a dictionary. What is behind the question? Don't be nervous. What do you mean? Is it not a calamity to see the villager carrying a tremendous weight on her head? To be a villager with dirty clothes, starving, - is it not a calamity? It is a calamity to the villager; and if you are at all sensitive, it a calamity also to you. I do not see what the problem is which makes you ask this question. Question: If somebody has an ambition to be an engineer does it not mean that he is interested in it? Krishnamurti: Would you say being interested in something is ambition? We can give to that word `ambition' any meaning. Ambition, as we generally know it, is the outcome of fear. Now, if I am interested as a boy in being an engineer because I love it, because I want to build beautiful houses, because I want to have the best irrigation in the world, because I want to build the best roads, it means I love the thing; therefore, that is not ambition. In that, there is no fear. So, ambition and interest are two different things, are they not? I am interested in painting, I love it, I do not want to compete with the best painter or the most famous painter, I just love painting. You may be better at painting, but I do not compare myself with you. I love what I am doing when I paint; that in itself is sufficient for me. Question: What is the easiest way of finding God? Krishnamurti: I am afraid there is no easy way, because to find God is one of the most difficult things, one of the most arduous things. Is not God something which the mind creates? You know what the mind is. The mind is the result of time. The mind can create anything, any illusion; it has the power of creating ideas, of projecting itself in fancies, in imagination, in accumulating, discarding, choosing; being prejudiced, narrow, limited, the mind can create God, can picture a God, can imagine what God is. Because some teachers, some priests, some so-called saviours have said there is God and they have described him, the mind can imagine God. But that is not God. God is something that cannot be formed by the mind. So, to understand God, you must understand your own mind first - which is very difficult. It is a very complex business, it is not easy. But it is very easy to sit down and go into some kind of dream and have various visions, illusions, and think that you are very near God. The mind can deceive itself enormously. So, to really find that which you call God, you must be completely quiet; and that is not easy. Have you not found how difficult it is? Have you seen older people, how they shake, how they jiggle with their toes and with their hands, how they never sit quiet? How difficult it is physically to sit still and how much more difficult it is for the mind to be still! You see, if you force the mind to be still, if you follow gurus, the mind is not still. It is like a child that is made still. It is a great art, one of the most difficult things, for the mind to be completely still without coercion. Then only is there a possibility of that which you call God, to be. Question: Is God everywhere? Krishnamurti: Are you really interested in this or have you been put up to ask this question? You ask questions, and I notice you then subside; you do not listen. Have you noticed how the older people never listen to you? They are so enclosed in their own thoughts, in their own emotions, in their own achievements, in their own sorrows, that they never listen to you. I am glad you notice a lot of things. Now, if you know how to listen, really listen, you find out a lot of things, not only about people but about the world. Here is a boy who asks if God is everywhere. He is too small to ask that question. He does not know what it really means. Probably, he has a vague inkling about it, the feeling of beauty, the feeling of the birds in the sky, of waters running a nice smiling face, the dance of the leaf in the wind, a woman carrying a burden, anger, noise, sorrow, all that is in the air, and he is interested and anxious to try to find out what life is; probably, the little boy feels it vaguely; he discusses it with older people; he hears them talking about God and he is puzzled. It is very important is it not? For him to ask that question and for you to seek an answer; because, as I was telling you the other day, you may unconsciously, deep down, be able to catch the meaning of all this inwardly and, as you grow, you will have hints of other things besides this ugly world of struggle. The world is beautiful, the earth is beautiful, rich; but we are the spoilers of it. Question: What is the real goal of life? Krishnamurti: It is, first of all, what you make of it. It is what you make of life. Question: As far as reality is concerned, it must be something else. Krishnamurti: What is the goal of life? Find out the truth of it; and till you find the truth of it, do not stop, because apparently, `what is the goal of life' interests you. Question: I am not particularly interested in my goal, but I want the goal of life for everybody. Krishnamurti: How will you find it out, who will show you? Can you find it out by reading? If you read, one author may give you a method, another author may give you a different method. If you go to a man who is suffering, he will say the goal of life is to be happy, because he is himself suffering; for him, the goal of life is to be happy. If you go to a man, to a person, who is starving, who has not had a full meal for years, his goal of life is to have his tummy full. If you go to one of the politicians, his goal is to become one of the directors, one of the rulers of the world. If you ask a woman, she will say, `My goal is to have a baby'. If you go to a sannyasi, his goal is to find God. The general desire, the goal of people is to find something that is very comfortable, to find some security, to find safety in something, so that they have no fear, so that they have no anxiety, no doubt, no questions. They want something permanent to which they can cling. Is it not so? So, the general goal of life for a man is some kind of hope, some kind of safety, some kind of permanency. You cannot say, `Is that all?'. That is what is happening. You must be fully acquainted with that first. You must question all that - which means, you must question yourself. The general goal of life is embedded in you, because you are part of the whole life, you want safety you want permanency, you want happiness, you want something to which to cling. Now, to find out something beyond that, some truth which is not of the mind nor of the illusions of the mind, all this must be finished; that is, you must understand all this and put it aside; then only, you will find out the real thing, whether there is a goal. But to stipulate that there must be a goal, to believe that there is a goal, is merely another illusion. But if you can question all the conflicts, the struggles, the pains, the vanities, the ambitions, the fears, the hopes and go through them, go beyond and above them, then you will find out. Question: Then I must develop higher influences and ultimately find out the real goal of life. Krishnamurti: How can you see the ultimate thing if you have got many barriers between you and that? You must re- move the barriers. To have fresh air you must open the window. You cannot say, `Let me sit down and see what the fresh air is like'. You must open the windows. Similarly, you must see all the barriers, the limitations, the conditions; and seeing them all, you must put them aside, then you will find out. But to sit on this side and say "I must find out" means nothing. December 17, 1952 RAJGHAT 8TH TALK TO BOYS AND GIRLS 18TH DECEMBER 1952 As you know, we have been talking a great deal about fear, because it is a very strong element in our lives. Let us now for a while talk about what is love, what it means and whether behind this word which to us has so much meaning, so much significance, whether behind this word and feeling, there is also that peculiar quality of apprehension, of anxiety, of the thing which grown up people know as loneliness. So, let us talk about the word or the feeling that we call love. Do you know what love is? Do you know how to find it? Do you love your parents? Do you know how to love your father, your mother, your guardian, your teacher, your aunt, your husband, or your wife? Do you know what it means? When I say I love my parents, what does it mean? You feel safe with them, you are familiar with them? Find out as I talk, whether this applies to you and to your love for your parents. You think your parents are protecting you, they are giving you money, shelter, clothes and food, and you feel a sense of close relationship. Don't you? Also, you feel you can trust them. I do not know if you trust them, but you feel you can. You understand the difference. You feel you can, but you may not. Probably you do not talk to them as easily, as happily as to your own friends; and yet, you respect them - respect being looking up to, being guided by them and obeying them, feeling that you have a certain responsibility towards them, feeling that you have a duty to support them when they grow up, when they are old. They in turn love you, they want to protect you, they want to guide you, they want to help you - at least they say so. They want you to be married off, so that you will lead a so-called moral life. so that you have no troubles, so that a man will look after you or there is a wife to look after you, to cook, to look after your children. All this is called love, is it not? We cannot find out if it is real love, because love is something which cannot be so easily explained by words. It is not something that comes to you easily. It is much more complex, and cannot be easily understood. Without it, life is very barren; without it, the trees, the birds, the smile of men and women, the bridge across the river, the boatmen and the animals have no meaning. Without it, life becomes shallow. Do you know what `shallow' means? Like a pool. In a deep river many fish can live, there is richness. But the pool that is by the roadside, it soon dries up with the strong sun; and nothing remains except mud and dirt. For most of us, love is an extraordinarily difficult thing to understand. For most of us, it is very shallow. Behind that word, there is a lurking fear. We want to be loved and also, we want to love. So, is it not very important for each one of us to find out what this extraordinary thing is? You can only find out if you know how you regard human beings, the trees, the birds, the animals, the stranger, the man who is hungry and also how you regard your friends if you have any, how you regard your gurus if you have any, or how you regard your parents. When you say, `I love my father, my mother, my guardian, my teacher', what does it mean? When you look up to somebody, when you feel it is your duty that you ought to obey them, and when they feel that you must also have a duty towards them and that you must obey them, is that love? Do you understand what I am talking about? When you look up to somebody, when you respect him tremendously, is that love? When you look up to somebody, you also look down upon somebody else. Don't you? There is always that. Is it not so? Is that love? When you feel you must obey, you have a duty, is that love? Is love something which is apprehensive, in which there is the sense of looking up or looking down, in which there is the obeying of somebody? When you say you love somebody, don't you depend on him? It is alright when you are young, to be dependent on your father, on your mother, on your teacher, or on your guardian. Because you are young, you need to be looked after, you need clothes, you need shelter, you need security. While you are young, you need a sense of being held together, of somebody looking after you. But even as you grow older, this feeling of dependence remains, does it not? Have you not noticed it in older people, in your parents and your teachers? Have you not noticed how they depend on their wives, on their children, on their mothers? People when they grow up still want to hold on to somebody, still feel that they need to be dependent. Without looking to somebody, without being guided by somebody, without a feeling of comfort and security in somebody, they feel lonely, do they not? They feel lost. So, this dependency on another is called love; but if you watch it more closely, you will see dependency is fear, it is not love. Because they are afraid to be alone, because they are afraid to think things out for themselves, because they are afraid to feel, to watch, to find out the whole meaning of life, they feel they love God. So they depend on what they call God; but a thing created by the mind is not dependable; it is not God, the unknown. It is the same with an ideal or a belief. I believe in something and that gives me great comfort; I love that ideal and I hold on to it; but remove the ideal, remove the belief and my dependency on it, and I am lost. It is the same thing with a guru. I depend, I want to receive; so, there is a fear, an ache. It is the same when you depend on your parents or teachers. It is right that you should do so when you are young; but if you keep on depending when you have grown to maturity, that will make you incapable of thinking, of being free. Where there is dependence there is fear; and where there is fear there is authority; there is no love; when your parents say you must do this, you must obey; you must follow certain traditions; you must take certain jobs or do some work; in all these, there is no love. And when you depend on society and accept the structure of society as it is, it is not love, because society is very rotten. You do not have to investigate it very deeply; for when you walk down the road, you see poverty, ugliness, squalor. An ambitious man or woman does not know what love is, and we are ruled by people who are ambitious. Therefore, there is no happiness in the world. It is very important for you, as you grow up, to see all this and to find out if you can ever discover this thing called love. You may have a very rich house, a marvellous garden, a good position, many saris or clothes, a good job; you may be the great Prime Minister; but without love, all these things have no meaning. So, what you have to do is to find out now - not when you grow old, you will never find out then - how you love your parents or your teacher or your guru, you have to find out what it all means, not to accept any word, but to go behind the word, to find out what lies behind the meaning of words and see if there is any reality behind them - the reality being that which you actually feel, not what you are supposed to feel - to feel the real when you are jealous, when you are angry. The moment you say `I must not be jealous', that is a varying wish that has no meaning. If you can find out exactly, be very clear, be very honest to yourself to find out exactly what you feel, what the actual state is - not what the ideal state is, not how you should act or how you should feel at some future date, but what you actually feel at the moment - then you can do something about it. But to say, `I must love my parents, I must love my guru, I must love my teacher', has no meaning, has it? Because, behind those words you are quite different; you say a lot of words and behind those words you hide. So, is it not intelligence to go beyond words, beyond the accepted meaning of words? Words like duty, responsibility, God, love, have acquired a lot of traditional meaning; but an intelligent person, a really deeply educated person goes beyond the words. For instance, if I told you that I do not believe in God, how shocked you would be. Would you not? You would say, `Goodness, what an awful idea'. You believe in God, don't you? At least you think you do. That has very little meaning - your belief or non-belief. What is important is to go behind the word, the word that you call love, and to see actually whether you do love your parents and whether the parents actually love you. Because if you really loved your parents or your parents actually loved you, the world would be entirely different. There would be no wars, there would be no starvation, there would be no class differences. There would be no rich and no poor. Without this thing called love, you try to arrange society economically to adjust economically, to put right; but without love, you cannot bring about a social structure which is without conflict, without pain. So, you have to go into this very very carefully; and perhaps then you will find out what love is. Question: Why is there sorrow in the world? Krishnamurti: I wonder if that boy knows what that word means. Probably, he has seen the donkey carrying an over-weight with his legs almost breaking; probably he has seen some child crying; probably he has seen the mother beating the child, the father scolding the child. Probably, he has seen people quarrelling or fighting each other. There is death, the body being carried to be burnt; there is the beggar; there is disease; there is poverty, old age, not only outside but inside of us; so perhaps, he says, `Why is there sorrow?'. Don't you want to know too? Have you searched, not only outwardly but inwardly, your own sorrow? What is it, why does it exist? Suppose I want something and I cannot get it, I feel miserable, I want a few more saris, I want to be a little more rich, a little more beautiful, and I cannot be that; without it I feel unhappy. I want to be friends with that boy or girl and I cannot be, and I feel unhappy. I want to love that person and that person does not love me, and I am miserable. My father dies, I am in sorrow. Why? Why do you feel unhappy when you cannot get what you want? Why should you get what you want? We think we have a right to get what we want. If you want a sari, you say that you must have it. If you want a coat, you feel that you must have it. But you never ask why you should have it when millions have not got it? Why should you have what you want? And besides, why do you want it? There is your need for enough clothes, food, shelter; but you go beyond that and want some more. Suppose you have what clothes, what food, what shelter you need; you are not satisfied with that, you want more power, you want to be respected, you want to be loved, you want to be looked up to, you want to be powerful, you want to be poets, saints, you want to be Prime Ministers, Presidents, good speakers. Why? Have you ever looked into it? Why do you want all this? This does not mean that you must be satisfied with what you are. I do not mean that. That would be ugly, silly. But this constant craving, the desire, the longing for more and more and more, why? This indicates that you are dissatisfied, discontented; but with what? Discontent, dissatisfaction with what you are? I am this, I do not like it, I want to be that. I think I look much more beautiful in a new coat or a new sari, so I want that. What does that mean? That means I am dissatisfied with what I am. I think I can escape from the discontent by having something more, more clothes or more power and so on. But the dissatisfaction is still there, is it not? I only cover it up with clothes, with power, with cars. I just cover it up. So, until you find out how to understand what you are, to merely cover yourself with words, with power, with position, has no meaning. You will still be unhappy. Seeing this, the unhappy person, the person who is in sorrow, does not run away to gurus, to position, to power; he wants to know what is behind that word, what lies behind that sorrow. If you go behind it, you will find that it is yourself, yourself who are very small, yourself who are miserable, unhappy, struggling to achieve greatness. So, this struggle to be something is the cause of sorrow. But if you can understand the thing, that which you are, go deeper and deeper behind it, you will find something quite different. Question: How can we wipe out sorrow? Krishnamurti: I have just explained it to you. You had better talk it over with your teachers afterwards. I just explained how sorrow comes into being and how it is possible to wipe it out. Question: If a man is starving and I have a feeling that I can be useful to him, is it not with ambition that I am loving the man? Krishnamurti: It all depends with what motive you help him. The Politician says he helps you and gets to New Delhi, living in a big house and speaking and showing himself off. He is helping the poor man, he says so. Is that love? Do you understand? Is that love? Question: If I relieve him from starvation by my usefulness? Krishnamurti: He is starving and you help him with food to relieve starvation. Is that love? Why do you want to help him? This means, have you no motive, have you no incentive, do you not get any benefit out of it? Think it out, do not say yes or no. If you get any benefit out of it, politically or inward benefit or outward benefit, then you do not love him. You feed him in order to become more popular, or in order that your friends may help you to reach New Delhi. Then that is not love, is it? But if you love him, you feed him without any incentive, without any motive, without wanting anything in return. If you feed him and he is ungrateful, do you feel hurt? If so, you do not love him. If he says to you and to the villagers that you are a wonderful man, you will feel very flattered. Then it means you do not love him, because you are thinking about yourself; surely that is not love. One has to be very careful to find out if one derives any kind of benefit and what the motive is that makes one feed him. Question: Suppose I want to go home and the Principal says `no'. If I disobey him, I will have to face the consequence. If I obey the Principal, I break my heart. What am I to do? Krishnamurti: Do you mean to say that you cannot talk it over with the Principal, that you cannot show him your problem, that you cannot take him into your confidence? If the Principal is the right kind of Principal, you can trust him, talk over your problem with him; and then if he is obstinate and says `you must not go', then something is wrong with the Principal, or he may have reasons which you must find out, So, it requires mutual confidence. That is, you must have confidence in the Principal and the Principal must have confidence in you. Life is not just a one-sided relationship. You are a human being, so is the Principal a human being. He may make a mistake. So, both of you must talk it over. You may say that you want to go but that may not be quite enough; your parent may have written to the Principal not to send you home. It must be a mutual thing, must it not? So that you do not get hurt, so that you do not feel that you are ill-treated, brutally pushed aside; and that can only happen when you have confidence in the teacher and he has confidence in you. That means real love; and that is what this school should be. Question: Why should we not do puja? Krishnamurti: Have you found out why old people do puja? Because they are copying? The more immature you are, the more you want to copy. Have you noticed how you love uniforms? So, before you ask why you should not do puja, ask the old people why they do puja. They do it because, firstly it is a tradition, their grandfathers did it. Then the repetition of words gives them a certain sense of peace. Do you understand that constantly repeated words dulls your minds and that they give you a sense of quietness, if the words have significance? Especially, Sanskrit words have certain vibrations which make you very quiet. People also do puja because everybody is doing it; because their grandmother, their grandfathers, their aunts did it. For all these reasons, they do puja. You being very young, you copy them; and you say you must also do puja because your father, your mother, your guru, your teacher does it. Do you do puja because somebody tells you to do it or because you find a certain mesmeric hypnotic effect in repeating certain words? Should you not find out why you do anything, before you do it? It does not matter even if millions believe it to be so. Should you not find out without accepting anything, should you not use your mind to find the truth or the significance of puja? You see that the mere repetition of Sanskrit words or of gestures will not really help you to find out what truth is, what God is. To find that out, you must know how to meditate. That is quite a different problem, quite different from doing puja. Millions of people have done puja and has it brought about a happier world? Are people creative? By `creative', I do not mean the bearing of children. I mean `creative' in the sense of being full of initiative, of love, of kindness, of sympathy, of consideration. So, if you as a little boy do puja and repeat it, you will grow merely like a machine. But if you begin to question, if you begin to doubt, to enquire, to find out, then perhaps you will know how to meditate. Meditation is one of the greatest blessings if you know how to do it properly. December 18, 1952 RAJGHAT 9TH TALK TO BOYS AND GIRLS 19TH DECEMBER 1952 You remember, yesterday morning we were discussing the complex problem of love. I do not think we shall understand it till we understand an equally complex problem which we call the mind. Have you noticed, when we are very young, how inquisitive we are? We want to know, we see many more things than older people. We observe, if we are at all awake, things that older people do not notice. The mind, when we are young, is much more alert, much more curious, and wanting to know. That is why when we are young we learn so easily mathematics, geography. As we grow older, our mind becomes more and more crystallized, more and more heavy, more and more bulky. Have you noticed in older people how prejudiced they are? Their minds are fixed, they are not open, they approach everything from a fixed point of view. You are young now; but if you are not very watchful, you will also become like that. Is it not then very important to understand the mind, and to see whether you cannot be supple, be capable of instant adjustments, of extraordinary capacities in every department of life, of deep research and understanding, instead of gradually becoming dull? Should you not know the ways of the mind, so as to understand the way of love? Because, it is the mind that destroys love. Clever people, people who are cunning, do not know what love is because their minds are so sharp, because they are so clever, because they are so superficial - which means, to be on the surface; and love is not a thing that exists on the surface. What is the mind? Do you understand what I am talking about? I am not talking about the brain, the physical construction of the brain about which any physiologist will tell you. The brain is something which reacts to various nervous responses. But you are going to find out what the mind is. What is the mind? The mind says, `I think; it is mine; it is yours; I am hurt; I am jealous; I love; I hate; I am an Indian; I am a Mussulman; I believe in this; I do not believe in that; I know; you do not know; I respect; I despise; I want; I do not want'. What is this thing? Till you understand it, till you are familiar with the whole process of thinking which is the mind, till you are aware of that, you will gradually, as you grow older, become hard, crystallized, dull, fixed in a certain pattern of thinking. What is this thing which you call the mind? It is the way of thinking, the way you think. I am talking of your mind - not somebody else's mind and the way it would think - the way you feel; the way you look at trees, at a fish; at the fishermen; the way you consider the villager. That mind gradually becomes warped or fixed in a certain pattern. When you want something, when you desire, when you crave, when you want to be something, then you set a pattern; that is, your mind creates a pattern and gets caught. Your desire crystallizes your mind. Say, for example, I want to be a very rich man. The desire of wanting to be a wealthy man creates a pattern and my thinking then gets caught in it; and I can only think in those terms, and I cannot go beyond it. So, the mind gets caught in it, gets crystallized in it, gets hard, dull. Or, if I believe in something - in God, in Communism, in a certain political system -the very belief begins to set the pattern, because that belief is the outcome of my desire and that desire strengthens the walls of the pattern. Gradually, my mind becomes dull, incapable of adjustment, of quickness, of sharpness, of clarity, because I am caught in the labyrinth of my own desires. So, until I really investigate this process of my mind, the ways I think, the ways I regard love, till I am familiar with my own ways of thinking, I cannot possibly find what love is. There will be no love when my mind desires certain facts of love, certain actions of it, and when I then imagine what love should be. Then I give certain motives to love. So, gradually, I create the pattern of action with regard to love. But it is not love; it is merely my desire what love should be. Say, for example, I possess you as a wife or as a husband. Do you understand `possess'? You possess your saris or your coats, don't you? If somebody took them away, you would be angry, you would be anxious, you would be irritated. Why? Because you regard your saris or your coat or kurtha as yours, your property; you possess it; because through possession you feel enriched. Don't you? Through having many saris, many kurthas, you feel rich, not only physically rich but inwardly rich. So, when somebody takes your coat away, you feel irritated; because, inwardly you are being deprived of that feeling of being rich, that feeling of possession. Owning creates a barrier, does it not? With regard to love. If I own you, possess you, is that love? I possess you as I possess a car, a coat, a sari; because in possessing, I feel very rich; I depend on it; it is very important to me inwardly. This owning, this possessing, this depending, is what we call love. But if you examine it, you will see that, behind it, the mind feels satisfied in possession. After all, when you possess a sari or many saris or a car or a house, inwardly it gives you a certain satisfaction, the feeling that it is yours. So, the mind desiring, wanting, creates a pattern; and in that pattern it gets caught; and so the mind grows weary, dull, stupid, thoughtless. The mind is the centre of that feeling of the `mine', the feeling that I own something, that I am a big man, that I am a little man, that I am insulted, that I am flattered, that I am clever or that I am very beautiful or that I want to be ambitious or that I am the daughter of somebody or the son of somebody. That feeling of the `me', the `I', is the centre of the mind, is the mind itself. So, the more the mind feels this is mine and builds walls round the feeling that `I am somebody', that `I must be great', that `I am a very clever man', or that `I am very stupid or a dull man', the more it creates a pattern, the more and more it becomes enclosed, dull. Then it suffers; then there is pain in that enclosure. Then it says, `What am I to do?'. Then it struggles to find something else instead of removing the walls that are enclosing it. By thought, by careful awareness, by going into it, by understanding it, it wants to take something from outside and then to close itself again. So, gradually, the mind becomes a barrier to love. So, without the understanding of life, of what the mind is, of the way of thinking, of the way from which there is action, we cannot possibly find what love is. Is not the mind also an instrument of comparison? You know what is comparison, to compare. You say this is better than that; you compare yourself with somebody who is more beautiful, who is more clever. There is comparison when you say, `I remember that particular river which I saw a year ago, and it was still more beautiful'. You compare yourself with somebody, compare yourself with an example, with the ultimate ideal. Comparative judgment makes the mind dull; it does not sharpen the mind, it does not make the mind comprehensive, inclusive; because, when you are all the time comparing, what has happened? You see the sunset, and you immediately compare that sunset with the previous sunset. You see a mountain and you see how beautiful it is. Then you say, `I saw a still more beautiful mountain two years ago.' What happens when you are comparing is that you are really not looking at the sunset which is there, but you are looking at it in order to compare it with something else. So, comparison prevents you from looking fully. I look at you, you are nice; but I say, `I know a much nicer person, a much better person, a more noble person, a more stupid person; when I do this, I am not looking at you, am I? Because my mind is occupied with something else, I am not looking at you at all. In the same way, I am not looking at the sunset at all. To really look at the sunset, there must be no comparison; to really look at you, I must not compare you with someone else. It is only when I look at you, not with comparative judgment, that I can understand you. But when I compare you with somebody else, then I judge you and I say, `Oh! he is a very stupid man.' So, stupidity arises when there is comparison; you understand? I compare you with somebody else and that very comparison brings about a lack of human dignity. When I look at you without comparing, I am only concerned with you, not with someone else. The very concern about you, not comparatively, brings about human dignity. So, as long as the mind is comparing, there is no love; and the mind is always judging, comparing, weighing, looking to find out where the weakness is. So, where there is comparison, there is no love. When the mother and father love their children, they do not compare them, they do not compare their child with another child; it is their child and they love their child. But you want to compare yourself with something better, with something nobler, with something richer; so, you create in yourself a lack of love. You are all the time concerned with yourself in relationship to somebody else. So, as the mind becomes more and more comparative, more and more possessive, more and more depending, it creates a pattern in which it gets caught; so it cannot look at anything anew, afresh; and so it destroys that very thing, that very perfume of life, which is love. Question: What should we ask God to give us? Krishnamurti: You are very interested in God. Are you not? Why? Because your mind is asking for something, wanting to find out. So, it is constantly agitated. When I am asking something from you, my mind is agitated, is it not? The boy wants to know what he should ask of God. He does not know what God is; he cannot possibly know what he wants. But there is a feeling of general apprehension, a general feeling `I must find out, I must ask, I must be protected'. The mind is always seeking, searching in every corner; and so the mind is never still; it is always wanting, grasping, watching, pushing comparing, judging. You search your own mind and see what the mind is doing, how it tries to control itself, how it tries to dominate, to suppress, to find out, to search, to ask, to beg, to struggle, to compare. We call that mind very alert; is it alert? An alert mind is a still mind, not a mind that like a butterfly is chasing all over the place, not a mind that is constantly clinging, agitating, asking, begging, praying, petitioning - such a mind is never still. It is only a still mind that can understand what God is. A still mind can never ask of God. It is only an impoverished mind that can beg, that can ask. What it asks, it can never have; and what it wants is security, comfort, certainty. If you seek anything of God, you will never find God. Question: What is real greatness and how can I be great? Krishnamurti: You see, the unfortunate thing is that we want to be great. We all want to be great. Why? We want to be Gandhis, Prime Ministers, we want to be great inventors, great writers. Why? You see, in education, in religion, in all the things of our life, we have examples. We have examples of the greatest poet, the greatest orator, the greatest writer, the greatest saint, the greatest hero. We have examples and we want to be like them. When you want to be like another, you have already created a pattern of action, have you not? You have already set a limitation on your thought. You have already bound your thought within certain limits. So, your thought has already become crystallized, narrow, limited, suffocated. Why do you want to be great? Why are you not prepared to be what you are? You see, the moment you want to be something, there is misery, there is degradation, there is envy and sorrow. I want to be like the Buddha. What happens? I struggle everlastingly. I am stupid, I am ugly; I crave for something; and I wish to leave what I am and to go beyond that. I am ugly, I want to be beautiful; so, I struggle everlastingly, till I die, to be beautiful, or to deceive myself to think that I am beautiful. If I say to myself that I am ugly and I see it as a fact, then I can investigate, then I can go beyond. But if I am always trying to be something other than what I am, then my mind wears itself out. If you say, `This is what I am, and I am going to understand this', then you will find that the understanding of what you are - not what you should be - brings great peace and contentment, great understanding, great love. Question: Is there not an end of love? Is love based on attraction. Krishnamurti: Suppose you are attracted by a beautiful river, by a beautiful woman or by a man. What is wrong with that? We are trying to find out. You see, when I am attracted to a woman, to a man or to a child or to truth or to a person, what happens? I want to be with it, I want to possess it, I want to call it my own; I say that it is mine and that it is not yours. I am attracted to that person, I must be near that person, my body must be near that person's body. So, what have I done? What generally happens? The fact is that I am attracted and I want to be near that person; that is a fact, not an ideal. And also the fact is that when I am attracted and I want to possess, there is no love. My concern is with the fact and not with what I should be. Well, when I possess a person, I do not want that person to look at anybody else. When I consider that person as mine, is there love? Obviously not. The moment my mind creates a hedge round that person, as the mine, there is no love. The fact is my mind is doing that, all the time. That is what we are discussing, to see how the mind is working; and perhaps, being aware of it, the mind itself will be quiet. Question: Why has the earth been created and why are we on it? Krishnamurti: You know what the scientists say how the earth has come into being. If you read biology, the beginning of life, they will tell you how the earth has been created, how human beings have grown upon it. That is the answer. Question: Is that true? Krishnamurti: The girl wants to know if it is true? Who is going to tell you about what is true? You are here, are you not? There is the earth and you are here. Why speculate about something which you cannot possibly prove? I mean: the scientists, the biologists will tell you how the earth has been created; and some equally clever person will tell you how the earth has been created out of Brahman. He will tell you how you have been created, how you have evolved; and another will tell you how you have been created out of matter. Then, what will happen to you? Which are you going to choose? You will obviously choose something that will please you, you will choose according to your own conditioning. This is a useless process of speculating. It is a waste of time to speculate. But there is the earth to understand, and you have to find out why you are here, what you are thinking, what you are feeling, what your life is. Perhaps you feel you will be able to find out ultimately; but you must begin now to find out. Question: Why does one feel the necessity of love? Krishnamurti: You mean why do we have to have love? Why should there be love? Can we do without it? What would happen if you did not have this so-called love? If your parents began to think out why they love you, you might not be here. They might throw you out. They think they love you; therefore, they want to protect you, they want to see you educated, they feel that they must give you every opportunity to be something. This feeling of protection, this feeling of wanting you to be educated, this feeling that you belong to them is what they generally call love. Without it, what would happen? What would happen if your parents did not love you? You would be neglected, you would be something inconvenient, you would be pushed out, they would hate you. So, fortunately, there is this feeling of love, perhaps clouded, perhaps besmirched and ugly; but there is still that feeling, fortunately for you and me; otherwise, you and I would not have been educated, would not exist. Question: What is prayer? In daily life, what is its importance? Krishnamurti: I presume you put that question in all seriousness, and not just because you want to be clever; I presume you really put that question in earnestness. Let us find out. Do not listen, but find out. Why do you pray and what is prayer? Most of your prayers are merely a petitioning, an asking. You indulge in this kind of prayer because you suffer, because you are alone, because you are depressed and in sorrow. You pray to God and ask for help; that is a petition; and that, you call prayer. The content of prayer is generally the same although the intent behind it may vary. Prayer, with most people, is a petition, a begging, an asking. Are you doing that? Why are you praying? I am not saying you should or should not pray. But why do you pray? Is it for more knowledge, for more peace, for the world to be free from sorrow? Is there any other form of prayer than that? There is prayer which is really not a prayer but the sending out of good will, the sending out of love, the sending out of ideas. Which is it you are doing? If your prayer is a supplication, a petition, then what happens? You are asking God or somebody to fill your empty bowl, are you not? You want that bowl to be filled according to your wishes. You want God to fill it according to your wishes; so you are asking God for that which you want. You are not satisfied with what happens, with what is given. So your prayer is merely a petition. It is a demand that you should be satisfied. You want to be satisfied; therefore, your prayer is not prayer at all. You just want to be gratified; so you say to God, `I am suffering; please gratify me; please give me my brother, my son. Please make me rich'. So, you are perpetuating your own demands. That is not prayer. The real thing is to understand yourself, to see why you are asking and not for what you are asking, to see why there is this demand in you, this urge to beg. Then you will find out that, the more you know about yourself physically as well as psychologically - the more you know what you are thinking, what you are feeling - the more you will find out the truth of `what is'. It is that truth that will help you to be free. December 19, 1952 RAJGHAT 10TH TALK TO BOYS AND GIRLS 21ST DECEMBER 1952 I think it is very important to know how to listen. If you know how to listen, you will get to the root of the matter immediately. If you listen to pure sound, you have immediate contact with the beauty of it. Similarly, if you knew how to listen to what another is saying or to what is being said, there would be an immediate transformation, an immediate change. After all, listening is the complete focussing of attention. You think that attention is a tiresome thing, that to learn to concentrate is a drawn out process; but if you know how to listen, then it is not so difficult; because then you will see that you get to the heart of the matter immediately with an extraordinary understanding. Most of us do not listen, We are distracted by noise or we have so much prejudice, so much bias; we have a twist that prevents us from really listening to what is being said. This is so especially with older people, because they have a series of achievements behind them, they are somebodies or nobodies in the world, and it is very difficult to penetrate through the layers of their formulations, their conceptions. The imagination, the achievements of older people will not allow the thing that is being said to penetrate. But if we knew how to listen without any barrier, just to listen as if to the sound of the bird in the morning or to see the sunlight on the water, or to listen to what is being said without any interpretation, without any barrier, just to listen, then it is an extraordinary thing, specially when something true is being said. You may not like it; you may resist it; you may think it is enclosed; but if you really listen, you see the truth of it. Really `listening' unburdens, it clears away the dross of many years of failure, of success, of longings. You know what propaganda is, don't you? It is to propagate, to sow, so that the constant repetition of an idea imprints on your mind what the propagandist, the politician, the religious leader wants you to believe. There is a listening there also, because there is the constant repetition by some people of what you should do, what books you should read, whom you should follow, what kind of ideas are right, which guru is essential, which is not essential. This constant repetition of an idea, of a feeling over and over again, leaves a mark. Even if you do not listen to it, unconsciously it is leaving an imprint; that is the purpose of propaganda, the constant repetition. But you see propaganda does not bring that truth which you immediately understand when you are really listening, when you really pay attention without any effort. You are now listening to me, you are not making any effort to pay attention, you are just listening; and if there is truth in what you hear, if what is being said is true, then you will find a remarkable change taking place in you, a change that is not wished for, a transformation, a complete revolution, in which the truth alone is the master and not your mind. So, if I may suggest, similarly listen to everything, not only to what I am saying, but to what other people are saying, to the birds, to the whistle of that engine, to the noise of the bus going by; and you will find that the more you listen, the greater is the silence, and that silence is not broken by noise. It is only when you are resisting, when you are putting up a barrier between yourselves, between listening and that to which you do not want to listen, then there is the struggle. So, if I may suggest, listen. We were talking yesterday and the day before yesterday about what love is; and perhaps, we can approach it from a different point of view, from a different angle. Is it not very important to be refined, not only outwardly but inwardly? You know what refinement is? To have sensitivity to things about you, and also to thoughts, to beliefs, to ideas inside you. The refinement of clothes, of manners, of gestures, of the way you walk, the way you talk, the way you look at people. Now, refinement is essential, is it not? Otherwise, there is deterioration. You know what deterioration is? You know the meaning of the word deterioration? Do you know what it means, to deteriorate? To generate is to create, to build, to have initiative, to bring forward, to develop. To degenerate is the opposite, to destroy to pieces; to degenerate implies a slow decay, a withering away. That is what is happening in the world, in Colleges, in Universities, amongst nations, amongst people, in the individual; there is a slow decay, a slow withering away; the degenerating process is going on all the time. This is because there is no outward or inward refinement. You may have very fine clothes, nice houses, good food, cleanliness; but without the inner refinement, the mere outward perfection of form will have little meaning; the perfection of form without the inner refinement is merely another form of degeneration. To have a beautiful car and inwardly to be gross, to be concerned with oneself, with one's own achievements, with one's own grandeur or greatness or ambitions, is the actual process of degeneration because then you are not creating inwardly. The form, the beauty of form has meaning in poetry or in a person or when you see a beautiful tree, only when there is the inward refinement which is love. If there is love, there will be outward as well as inward refinement. The outward refinement is expressed in consideration, in how you treat not only your daughters, your parents, your servants if you have any, but also your neighbours, the coolie, the gardener. You may have a beautiful garden created by the gardener, but without that love of refinement, the garden has no meaning, it is merely an expression of your own vanity. So, it is essential to have outward and inward refinement. The way you eat matters a great deal; whether you make a noise while you are eating matters very much; the way you behave, your manners, the way you talk to your friends, the way you talk about others, all these matter because they are pointing to what you are inwardly, indicating whether in that inward state of being there is refinement. Where there is no refinement, it obviously expresses itself outwardly in a degeneration of form. But outward refinement or inward refinement has very little meaning if there is no love. We see that love is not a thing that we possess. It comes into being only when the mind has understood the complex problems which it creates. You and I are going to discuss these problems. Question: Why do we feel a sense of pride when we succeed? Krishnamurti: Is there a sense of pride with success, and what is pride and what is success? You understand those two words, success and pride? What is success? Have you ever considered what it is to be successful as a writer, as a poet, as a painter, as a businessman, as a politician? Inwardly to feel that you have achieved a certain control over yourself, inwardly to feel successful in achieving a certain thing, to feel that you have succeeded outwardly, what does all this indicate? To feel that you have achieved something, you are better than somebody else, you have achieved what you want, you have become a successful man, you are respected, you are looked upon as an example by others - what does all this indicate? Naturally, with that feeling comes pride - I have done something, I am very important. The feeling of `I' is in its very nature a sense of being proud. So, with success, there always grows pride, the pride being that one is very important comparatively. This comparison with another, with your example, with your ideal, with your hope, gives you the strength, the purpose, the drive which only gives importance to the `I', to the feeling that you are much more important than anybody else; and that sense of feeling, of pleasure, is the beginning of pride. Pride is a thing that brings a great deal of egotistic vanity, an inflation. You watch the older people and you watch yourself. You pass an examination. When you are a little cleverer than another, a sense of pleasure comes in. It is the same when you outdo somebody in argument, or physically you are much stronger or more beautiful. Immediately, there is a sense of your importance. So, when there is that feeling of importance of the `me', then you have conflict, the struggle, the pain to maintain that state all the time. Question: How can we remove it, how can we be free from pride? Krishnamurti: I told you just now how to listen. If you had really listened to the answer to the last question, you would have understood how to be free from pride, and you would be free from pride; but you are concerned with the next question, you are concerned to find out how to put that question; you were not listening to the first question and to the answer. If you listen to what I say, you will find out the truth of it. I am proud because I have achieved; I have been the Principal; I have been to England, to America; I have done great things; I have appeared in the papers and so on and on. I am very proud and I say to myself, `How am I to be free from pride?' Why do I want to be free? That is an important question, not how to be free. But why, what is the motive, what is the incentive? Does the incentive come into being because I find pride harmful to me, painful, spiritually not good? If that is the motive, then to try to free myself from pride is another form of pride, is it not? I am still concerned with achievement. If I find that pride is very painful, is spiritually ugly, I say I must be free of it.`I must be free' still contains the same motive as `I must be successful'. I am still important. I must be free, I must be successful now. My struggle is to be free and I am still the centre. So, what is important is not how to be free from pride but to understand the `me'. The `I' is so subtle, wanting this one year and wanting that another year; and when that is painful, then wanting something else. So, as long as this centre of the `me' exists, whether I have pride or whether I am humble is of very little importance. It is only a different coat to put on. When a coat appeals to me, I put it on; I put on another next year, depending on my fancies, on my desires. What I have to understand is how this `I' comes into being. The `I' comes into being through various forms of achievements. This does not mean that you must not act; but the feeling that you are acting, the feeling that you are achieving, the feeling that you must be without pride, has to be understood. You have to understand the structure of the `me'. You have to sit, to watch, to be aware, to be conscious of your thinking, of the way you treat your servant, of the way you treat your mother, your father, the teacher, the coolie, those who are above you and those who are below you, those whom you respect and those whom you despise - all that indicates the ways of the `I'. Then, when you know the ways, there is understanding and then there is freedom from the `I'. That is what is important, not how to be free from pride. Question: How can a thing of beauty be a joy for ever? Krishnamurti: Are you a student of the classics? Is that your original thought, or are you quoting from somebody? So, you want to find out if joy, if beauty is perishable, and also how there can be everlasting joy. Question: Beauty comes in certain forms. Krishnamurti: Is beauty perishable? The tree, the leaf, the river, the woman, the man, those villagers carrying a weight on their head and walking beautifully. Question: They walk, but they leave an impression. Krishnamurti: They walk and the memory of it remains. The memory remains of the tree, the leaf; the beauty and the memory of it remains. Now, is memory a living joy? When you see a beautiful thing, there is immediate joy; you see a sunset and there is an immediate reaction of joy. That joy, a few moments later, becomes a memory. That memory of the joy, is it a living thing? Is the memory of the sunset a living thing? No, it is a dead thing. So, with that dead imprint of a sunset, through that, you want to find joy. Memory has no joy; it is only the remembrance of something which created the joy. Memory in itself has no joy. There is joy, the immediate reaction to the beauty of a tree; and then memory comes in and destroys that joy. So, if there is constant perception of beauty without the accumulation of memories, then there is the possibility of joy everlasting. But it is not so easy to be free from memory. The moment you see something very pleasurable, you make it immediately into something to which you hold on. You see a beautiful thing, a beautiful child, a beautiful tree; and when you see it, there is immediate pleasure; then you want more of it. The more of it is the reaction of memory. So, when you want more, you have already started the process of disintegration. In that there is no joy. Memory can never produce everlasting joy. There is everlasting joy only when there is the constant response to beauty, to ugliness, to everything - which means, great inward and outward sensitivity, which means, having real love. Question: Why are the poor happy and the rich unhappy? Krishnamurti: Do you know that the poor are happy? Have you noticed the poor happy? Have you noticed the rich unhappy? Are the poor particularly happy? They may sing, they may have Bhajans, they may dance, but are they happy? They have no food, they have no clothes, they are not clean, they have to work from morning till night year after year. They may have occasional happiness; but they are not happy, are they? Are the rich unhappy? They have food, they have clothes, they have great position, they travel. They are unhappy when they are frustrated, when they are hindered and cannot get what they want. What do you mean by happiness? Some will say happiness consists in getting what you want. You want a car, and you get it and you are happy. I want a sari or clothes; I want to go to Europe and, if I can, I am happy. I want to be the biggest professor or the greatest politician and, if I get it, I am happy; if I cannot get it, I am unhappy. So, what you call happiness is getting what you want, achievement or success, becoming noble, getting anything that you want. As long as you want something and you can get it, you feel perfectly happy; you are not frustrated; but if you cannot get what you want, then unhappiness begins. All of us are concerned with this, not only the rich and the poor. The rich and the poor all want to get something for themselves, for their family, for society; and if they are prevented, stopped, they will be unhappy. We are not discussing, we are not saying that the poor should not have what they want. That is not the problem. We are trying to find out what is happiness and whether happiness is something of which you are conscious. The moment you are conscious that you are happy, that you have much, is that happiness? The moment you are conscious that you are happy, it is not happiness, is it? So you cannot go after happiness. The moment you are conscious that you are humble, you are not humble. So happiness is not a thing to be pursued; it comes. But if you seek it, it will evade you. Question: Though there is progress in different directions, though people are making progress in different directions, why is there no brotherhood? Krishnamurti: What do you mean by `progress'? Question: Scientific progress. Krishnamurti: As from the bullock cart to the jet plane? That is progress, is it not? Centuries ago, there was only the bullock cart; but gradually, through time, we have developed the jet plane; this is called scientific progress. Now, through sanitation, through great medical care, there has been progress. The means of transport in ancient times was very slow and now it is very rapid; within twenty-four hours, you can be in London. All these things we call progress; and yet, you see that although in one direction we are making progress, we are not developing or progressing, equally, in brotherhood. Now, is brotherhood a matter of progress? We know what we mean by `progress'. Through time, achieving something; evolution. You understand? The scientists say that we have evolved from the monkey; they say that, through centuries, through millions of years, we have progressed from the lowest animal to the highest, which is man. But is brotherhood a matter of progress? Is it something which can be evolved through time? There is the unity of the family, of the society, of the nation; from the nation to the international and then to the one-world. The one-world state is what we call brotherhood. Is brotherly feeling a matter of time? Is the feeling of brotherhood to be cultivated through time, through the stages of family, community, nation, society, international, one world? Is the feeling of brotherliness which is love, to be cultivated step by step? Is love a matter of time? You understand what I am talking about? If I say that, in ten years, in thirty years, in a hundred years, there will be brotherhood, what does that indicate? It indicates that I do not love, I do not feel brotherhood. I wonder if you understand what I am talking. If I say `I will be brotherly I will love', the actual fact is that I do not love, I do not have brotherliness. When I think `I will be', I am not. So, if I can remove this conception of `I will be' - I will be brotherly in a hundred years' - then I can begin to find out what I am - that I am not brotherly - and I can then begin to work. Which is important, what I am or what I will be? Surely what is important is what I am; because, then I can deal with it. But, what I will be is something in the future and that is unpredictable. The fact is I have no brotherly feeling, I do not love; that is a fact; with that fact I begin and immediately do something about it. But if I say, `I will be something', then it is too vague, then that is idealism. The ideal man is an individual who is escaping from what is. All idealists are people who escape, who run away from the fact which can be altered. December 21, 1952 RAJGHAT 11TH TALK TO BOYS AND GIRLS 22ND DECEMBER 1952 You remember that we have been talking about fear. Now, is not fear also responsible for the accumulation of knowledge? This is a difficult subject and so let us see whether we can go into it very carefully, and consider it. As I said just now, fear takes the form of knowledge and that is why human beings accumulate knowledge and worship knowledge. They think that knowledge is so important in life - knowledge of what has happened, knowledge of what is going to happen, knowledge not only scientific, but so-called spiritual knowledge. The whole process of accumulating information gradually becomes a thing which we worship as knowledge. Is that not also from the background of fear? We feel that, if we do not know, we would be lost, we would not know how to conduct ourselves, we would not know how to behave. So, gradually through other people's beliefs and experiences, through our own experiences, through book-know- ledge, through what the sages have said, we gradually build up knowledge which becomes tradition; and behind that tradition, behind that knowledge, we take refuge. We think this knowledge is essential; we feel that without this knowledge, we shall be lost, we shall not know what to do. Now, when we talk about knowledge, what do we mean by knowledge? What do we know? What do you know when you really consider the knowledge that you have accumulated? What is it? At some level, knowledge is important, such as, science, engineering; but beyond that, what is it that we know? Have you ever considered this process of accumulating knowledge? Why is it that you pass examinations, why is it that you study? It is necessary, is it not?, at certain levels; because without knowledge of mathematics, geography, history, how can one be an Engineer or be a Scientist? All social contact is built upon such knowledge; and we would not be able to keep on earning a livelihood without it; so, that kind of knowledge is essential. Beyond that, what do we know? As I was saying, knowledge is essential at certain levels of our life in order to live. But beyond that, what is the nature of knowledge? What do we mean when we say that knowledge is necessary to find God, or that knowledge is necessary to know oneself, or that knowledge is essential to find a way through all the turmoils of life? Here, we mean knowledge as experience. What is it that we experience? What is it that we know? Is not this knowledge used by the ego, by the `me', to strengthen itself? Say, for instance, I have achieved a certain social standing. That experience, the success of it, the prestige of it, the power of it, gives me a certain sense of assurance, of comfort; and so, the knowledge of my success, the knowledge of my being, of having power, my position, the knowledge that I am somebody, strengthens the `me', does it not? So, we use knowledge as a means of strengthening the ego, the `me'. Have you not noticed the Pundits or your father or mother or teacher, how knowledgepuffed they are? How knowledge gives the sense of the expansion of the `me', the `I know and you do not know; I have experienced more and you have not'. So, gradually, knowledge which is merely information, is used for vanity and becomes the sustenance, the food, the nourishment for the ego, for the `me'. For the ego cannot be without some form of parasitical dependence. The scientist uses his knowledge to feed his vanity, to feel that he is somebody; so does the Pundit; so does the teacher; so do the parents; so do the gurus - they all want to be somebody in this world. So, they use knowledge as a means to that to fulfil that desire; and when you examine, go behind their words, what is there? What is it that they know? They know only what the books contain; or, they know what they have experienced, the experiences depending on the background of their conditioning. So, most of us are filled with words, with information which we call knowledge; and without that, we are lost. So, there is fear lurking right behind the screen of words, the screen of information; and this we transform into knowledge, as a means of our vocation in life. So, where there is fear, there is no love; and knowledge without love destroys one. That is what is happening in the world at the present time. For example, people have knowledge of how to feed human beings throughout the world, but they are not doing it. They know how to feed them, clothe them, shelter them; but they are not doing it because each group of people is divided by its nationalistic, egotistic pursuits. If they really had the desire to stop war, they could do so; but they are not doing it for the same reason. So, knowledge without love has no meaning. It is only a means of destruction. Until we understand this, merely to pass examinations or to have a position or prestige or power leads to degeneration, leads to corruption, leads to the slow withering away of human dignity. So, what is important is, not only to have knowledge at certain levels - which is essential - but to cultivate this feeling, to see how knowledge is used for egotism, for selfish purposes. Watch how experience is employed as a means of self-expansion, as a means for power, for prestige for oneself. You watch, and you will see how grown-up people in positions cling to their success, cling to their position. They want to build a nest for themselves so that they are powerful, so that they have prestige, position and authority; and they survive because each one of us wants to do the same, wants to be somebody. You do not want to be yourself whatever you are, but you want to be somebody. There is a difference between being and wanting to be. The desire `to be' continues through knowledge which is used for self-aggrandizement, for power, position, prestige. So, what is important is, for all of us, for you and me as we are maturing, to see all these problems and to go into them, to see that we do not merely respect a person because he has a title, a name, a position. We know very little. We may have plenty of knowledge of books; but very few have direct experience of anything. It is the direct experiencing of reality, of God, that is of vital importance. And for that, there must be love. December 22, 1952 RAJGHAT 12TH TALK TO BOYS AND GIRLS 23RD DECEMBER 1952 Is it not very important, while we are young, to be loved and to love? It seems to me that most of us neither love nor are loved. And I think it is essential, while we are young, to understand this problem very seriously; because, it may be that, while we are young, we can be sensitive enough to feel it, to know its quality, to know its perfume; and perhaps when we grow older, it will not be entirely destroyed. So, let us consider the question - that is, not that you should not be loved but that you should love. What does it mean? Is it an ideal? Is it something far away, unattainable? Or is it something that can be felt by each one at odd moments of the day? To feel it, to be aware, to know the quality of sympathy, the quality of understanding, to help naturally, to aid another without any motive, to be kind, to be generous, to have sympathy, to care for something, to care for a dog, to be sympathetic to the villager, to be generous to your friend, to be forgiving, is that what we mean by love? Or is love something in which there is no sense of resentment, something which is everlasting forgiveness? And is it not possible while we are young, to feel it? Most of us, while we are young, do feel it - a sense of outward agony, sympathy to the villager, to a dog, to those who are little. And should it not be constantly tended? Should you not always have some part of the day when you are helping another, or tending a tree or garden, or helping in the house or in the hostel, so that, as you grow into maturity, you will know what it is to be considerate naturally - not with an enforced considerateness, not with a considerateness that is merely a negative word for one's own happiness, but with that considerateness that is without motive. So, should you not, when you are young, know this quality of real affection? It cannot be brought into being, you have to have it; and those who are in charge of you, like your guardian, your parents, your teachers, must also have it. Most people have not got it. They are concerned with their achievements, with their longings, with their success, with their knowledge and with what they have done. They have built up their past into such colossal importance that it ultimately destroys them. So, should you not, while you are young, know what it is to take care of the rooms, to care for a number of trees that you yourself dig and plant, so that there is a feeling, a subtle feeling of sympathy, of care, of generosity, the actual generosity - not the generosity of the mere mind - that means, you give to somebody the little that you may have? If that is not so, if you do not feel that while you are young, it will be very difficult to feel that when you are old. So, if you have that feeling of love, of generosity, of kindness, of gentleness, then perhaps you can awaken that in others. And that implies, does it not?, that sympathy and affection are not the result of fear. But, you see, it is very difficult to grow in this world without fear, without having some personal motive in action. The older generation have never thought about the problem of fear; or if they have thought about it abstractly, generally, they have never applied it actually in daily existence, they have never gone into the problem. If you who are still watching, growing, enquiring, if you do not know what causes fear, you will grow up like them; then, like the weed that is hidden, fear will grow and grow and multiply and twist your mind. So, what is important is that you should be sensitive to things that are happening around you - how the teachers talk, how your parents behave and how you behave yourself - so that this question of fear is seen and understood. You see, most grown-up people think that some kind of discipline is necessary. You know what discipline is? It is the process, the way of making you do something which you do not want to do, a way which you yourself have developed and through which therefore you want to achieve a result. Say, for instance, you are in the habit of smoking or chewing pan. What is the way to put an end to it? The way to put an end to the habit is generally called the disciplining of the mind to resist that particular action. That is, I smoke; what is the way of putting an end to it? Or, I chew pan, what is the way by which chewing pan may come to an end? The idea does exist that you must resist chewing pan or you must resist smoking. The resistance creates fear; and because you are afraid, you develop this process of resisting everything. Whereas, if you understood why you smoke, if you went into it, if you thought about it, if you talked about it, if you were aware of it or were helped to be conscious of it, you would see that by constantly watching it, you would not develop fear against this resistance. So discipline is not the way of love. Where there is discipline, there is fear. And in a place like this, discipline at all costs should be avoided - discipline being coercion, resistance, persuasion, compulsion, the offering to you of a reward, or making you do something which you really do not understand. If you do not understand something, do not do it; do not be compelled to do it. Ask for an explanation, do not be obstinate, try to find out, so that your mind becomes very pliable, very subtle; so that there is no fear involved in it. But if you are compelled by grown-up people, by authority, by parents, then you suppress your mind, and fear comes into being; and that fear pursues you like your shadow throughout life. So, do not be disciplined to a particular type of thought or to a particular pattern of action. Older people can only think in those terms. They make you do something for your good. The very making you do something for your good destroys your sensitivity, your capacity to understand and therefore your love. All this is very difficult, because the world about us is so strong; we do things thoughtlessly and we fall into a habit; and then it is very difficult for us to break away from it. Should you, in a place like this, have authority? Or should you go to your teachers, discuss these problems, go into them, understand them, so that as you grow up and leave this place, you do so as an intelligent human being who is capable of meet- ing the world's problems? You cannot have that intelligence if there is any kind of fear. Fear only makes you obstinate, fear curbs you, fear destroys that thing which we call sympathy, generosity, affection, love. So, be very careful not to be disciplined into a pattern of action; but find out - which means, you must have the time, and the teacher must have the time; if there is no time, then time must be made, because fear is more important than any examination or any degree, because fear is a source of corruption and is the beginning of degeneration. Question: What is love in its own self? Krishnamurti: What is intrinsic love? What do you mean? What is love without motive, without an incentive? Listen carefully, you will find out. We are examining the question but not to find out the answer. You know, in your studies in mathematics or in putting a question, most of you want an answer. You are mostly concerned with the answer, not with the problem. If you understand the problem, if you study it, look into it, examine it, analyse it, the answer is in the problem. So, we are going to find out what the answer is in understanding what the problem is, not in looking for an answer at the end of the book or looking for an answer in the Bhagvad Gita or in the Bible or in the Koran or in some sacred book or from some professor or lecturer. If we look at the problem, the answer will come out of it. A fruit cannot come into being without the tree; but what we do generally is to look for the fruit of the tree without understanding the whole structure of the tree, without understanding how the tree grows. The fruit is a part of the tree; they are not two separate things. Similarly, in the problem is the answer, the answer is not separate from the problem. Do not merely wait for an answer. The answers to your mathematical problems are in your personal effort, in your inquiry, in your search to understand the problems. In your looking at the problem, you will find out the right answer. The problem now is: what is love without motive? Can there be love without any incentive, without taking something for oneself out of love? Can there be love in which there is no hurt, in which there is no sense of being wounded when love is not returned? Can there be love when you give and do not receive? When you give, are you not hurt when the person does not return? When I offer you my friendship, you turn away and then I am hurt; is that hurt the outcome of my friendship, the outcome of my generosity, the outcome of my sympathy? So, as long as there is hurt, as long as there is fear, as long as I am doing something in order to help you, in order that you may help me - which is called service - then you will see that the motive is not love. If you understand this, the answer is there. Question: What is religion? Krishnamurti: Do you want to find out an answer from me, or do you want to find out the truth of what religion is? Are you looking for an answer from somebody, however great, however stupid? Or, are you trying to find out the truth of what true religion is? If you try to find out what true religion is, then what have you to do? You must push away everything. If I have many coloured windows, dirty windows, and I want to see the clear sunshine, if I want to know what real light is, I must clean the windows, or I must open the windows and go outside. Similarly, you want to find out what true religion is. Then you must find out what it is not. To find out or discover what it is not, you have to approach it in negation - that is, like opening the window. You must first find out what it is not and then put that aside, Then, you can find out; then you are in direct perception. We are going to find out what true religion is; so let us find out first what it is not. Is ritual, puja, religion? You repeat over and over again a certain ritual, a certain mantra in front of an idol. It may give you a sense of pleasure, a sense of satisfaction; is that religion? Is putting on the sacred thread religion? Obviously, it cannot be. So, we have to find out whether calling yourself a Buddhist, a Christian, a Hindu, and accepting a certain tradition, dogma, ritual, is religion. Obviously it is not. So, religion must be something which can only be found when the mind has understood and put aside all this. Religion is not the outcome of separation, is it? You are a Mus- salman, I am a Christian, I believe in something, you do not believe in it. Your belief has nothing to do with religion as such. Whether you believe in God or I do not believe in God has nothing to do with it, because your belief is conditioned by your society, is it not? The society round you imprints your beliefs, your fears, and appeals to your mind to believe in certain things. The belief has nothing to do with religion. You believe in one way and I in another way, because I happen to be born in England, Russia or America. Belief is only the result of conditioning. Therefore, it has nothing to do with religion. Is the pursuit of personal salvation religion? I want to be safe; I want to reach Nirvana or Moksha or salvation; I must find a place next to Jesus, next to Buddha, next to a particular God. Your religion is not a thing that gives me deep satisfaction, or comfort; so, I have my religion. Your mind must be free from all these things and then only will you find out what true religion is. Is religion merely doing good or doing service or helping another? Or is it something more - which does not mean that we must not be generous or kind. But is that all? Is it something much greater, much cleaner, vaster, more expansive than any mere conception of the mind? To understand what is true religion, you must know all these things. It is like going out into the sunshine; then, I will not ask what is true religion; then, I will know; then there will be the direct experience of that which is true. Question: Suppose somebody is unhappy and wants to become happy. Is it ambition? Krishnamurti: Did you listen to what was being said before? You do not listen. If you knew how to listen really to what was being said, you would have found what is true religion immediately. It is like somebody saying to you, `Go and open the door, and you will know what is sunshine'. Sitting in the room and being lazy, you do not want to move; so, you say, `Please tell me what the sunshine is, and I shall listen very carefully'. But, I say, `Go to the door and open it, you will know without asking'. If you have really listened to that, you will have gone to the door and seen the sunshine. That is the beauty of listening so completely that you have already opened the door and are in the sunshine. The lady asks, `If I want to help somebody who is in sorrow, is that ambition?' If somebody is unhappy and he wants to become happy, is that ambition? Is truth ambition? I am unhappy, my father or my son is dead, I am starving, I am unhappy. To be in sorrow, to have pain, to have physical pain, to have emotional pain, inward pain or outward pain, the loss of somebody whom I think I love - all this we know. What is the process of becoming happy? Do you understand? Can I ever know when I am happy? I can only know when I have been happy. I can never know the moment in which I am happy. I can only know happiness when it is finished, like pleasure. At the moment of pleasure, you are not aware of it. Only a second after, you say `How happy, pleasurable it was'. You say, `I am suffering, I want to end my suffering'. Is that ambition? That is a natural instinct of every person; that is not ambition. So, is it not the natural instinct of all of us not to have fear, not to have pain physically or emotionally? But life is such that you are constantly receiving pain. I eat something and it does not suit me, I have tummy ache. Somebody says something to me and I get hurt. I want to do something which somebody prevents; and I feel frustrated, I feel miserable. So, life is constantly acting upon me, whether I like it or not - which is hurting, which is frustrating, which is reacting as pain. Is it not so? So what I have to do is to understand it. But I run away from it. You see, what happens is: I suffer inwardly, I go to somebody, I run away from my feeling of suffering - I read a book or turn on the radio, or I go and do puja. All these are indications of my running away from suffering. If you run away from something, obviously you do not understand it. In looking at it, you begin to understand the problem involved in it, and the search for the understanding of the problem is not ambition. But it will become ambition when you want to run away from it, when you cling to it, when you fight it out, when round it you gradually build theories and hopes. So, in a more subtle way, the thing to which you begin to run, becomes important. The very thing becoming important is the self-identification with it, the identification of yourself with it, yourself with your country, with your position, with your God; and this is a form of ambition. December 23, 1952 RAJGHAT 13TH TALK TO BOYS AND GIRLS 24TH DECEMBER 1952 Perhaps, what we have been discussing for the last two weeks may be approached from a different point of view. You know what I am saying is not a thing to be remembered. You know what is `remembering'? It is to try to store in your mind what you have heard or what you have seen or what you have read, to be recollected, and either to be thought of or to be followed. But we are not doing that here. You are not trying to remember what I was telling you. If you remember what I was telling you, it will be merely memory; it won't be a living thing. This is not like a class where you take notes while you listen. that is only to make you remember what you have heard; and what you have heard, if you remember it merely, is not something that you understand. It is the understanding that matters, not remembrance. I hope you see the difference between remembering and understanding. Understanding is something immediate, direct, something which you experience intensively. But if you merely remember what you have heard during these mornings, it will act as a guide, something to be compared, something to be followed, a slogan, the remembrance of an idea which should be followed, which should be imitated, which should act as a guide, as an example, something on which to base your lives. But understanding is something which you do not remember. It is a continuous, constant pressure. So, if you understand what I have been talking - understand, not remember - then you will see that your action, what you are doing, is in relation with your understanding. If you remember, you will try to compare your action or modify it, or adjust your action to what you remember. But if you understand, that very understanding is bringing about action, and you do not have to act according to your remembrance. That is why it is very important to listen, not to remember but to understand immediately. If you remember certain sentences, certain feelings that are awakened here, certain phrases, certain words, you will try to compare your action with what you remembered. So, there will always be a gap between what you remember and your action. But if you understand, there is no copying. So, it is very important, vitally important, to see that you really understand. Any fool can remember, anybody with certain capacities can pass an examination, because he remembers; but, if you understand the things involved in what you see, in what you hear, in what you feel, that very understanding brings about action which you have not got to guide, shape, control. If you remember, you will always be comparing; and comparison breeds envy. Our whole society is based on that structure of envy and acquisitiveness. So, mere comparison with what you remember, will not help to bring about understanding. In understanding there is love. This is not mere intellectualization which is a mental thought, a mental process in which you are comparing, in which you are imitating, in which you follow, in which there is always the danger of the leader and the led. Do you understand that? In this world, the structure of society is based on the leader and the led, the example and the one who follows the example, the hero and the worshipper of the hero. If you go behind this process of following and being the led, you will see that where you follow, there is no initiative, there is no freedom for you or for the leader; because, you shape the leader, you control the leader as the leader controls you. If you are following examples - examples of self-sacrifice, examples of greatness, examples of success, examples of love - then those examples become the ideals which are to be remembered and followed; so, you have, between the ideal and the action, a gap, a division. A man who really understands this, has no ideal; he has no example; he is not following anybody; for him, there is no guru, no Mahatma, no historical leaders; because, he is constantly understanding what he hears, whether it is from the father or mother, or from the teacher, or from a person like myself who comes into his life occasionally You are now listening; you are understanding and not following. You are not imitating here; therefore, there is no fear; and so there is love. So, it is very important to see this very clearly for yourselves, so that you are not bewitched, mesmerized by heroes, by examples, by ideals. Examples, heroes, ideals, and the things that are remembered, are soon forgotten. Therefore, there has to be a constant reminder by a picture, by an ideal, by a slogan. If you have an ideal, an example, then you are following; that is merely remembering. In that remembrance, there is no understanding. It is only comparing `what you are' to `what you want to be'. That very comparison breeds envy and fear; and that comparison breeds authority in which there is no love. Please understand all this, hear all this very carefully, so that you have no leaders, no examples, no ideals, to imitate, to follow, to copy; so that you are a free human being with dignity. You cannot be free if you are everlastingly comparing yourself with the ideal, with what you should be. If you understand what you are, however ugly, however beautiful, however frightened, actually what you are, that does not demand remembrance; remembrance is merely recollection. But, to watch, to be aware, to be conscious of what you actually are, is the process of understanding; and this is not a process of recollection, it is not a way of remembrance. If you really understood what I am talking, listened to it completely, then you would be free of all the things that past generations have created, which are utterly false and have no significance; you will have no recollection which only cripples the mind and the heart, which breeds fear and envy. If you really understand what I am talking, you will listen. Unconsciously, you may be listening very deeply; I hope you are. Then you will see what an extraordinary power it brings, that comes with listening, with freedom from remembrance. Question: Is beauty a subjective quality or objective? Krishnamurti: Why do you ask that question? To write an essay on it? You know, in school and at college, you are asked to write essays; and so, what do you do? You collect, you read books and, like squirrels, collect ideas from books, from other people and put all these ideas together and put them on paper and pass it on to the examiner. Is that why you are asking? Please listen. Or, do you really want to know whether beauty is subjective or objective? Do you really want to under- stand, to find out, not to remember and say, `Yes, that is what he said', or `It is true or wrong'? If you really want to understand it, not merely remember it, then, let us proceed. You see something beautiful, the river from the veranda; if you are not sensitive, then you pass it by. You see a child in tatters, crying; if you do not appreciate things about you, if you are not aware of things around you, then that is of very little value. There is a woman carrying a weight on her head with dirty clothes, starving, tired; do you see the beauty of her talk or feel the sensitivity of her state, the colour of her sari however dirty it is? There are objective influences that are all about you; if you have not that sensitivity, you will never appreciate them, will you? If you are sensitive, you are aware not only of the things which you call beautiful but also of the things called ugly - to see the river, the green fields and the trees from the distance, the clouds of the evening; or to observe the dirty villagers, the half starved people with very little thought, very little feeling, with dirty clothes. The one we call beautiful and the other we call ugly. If you are listening, you will see that what is important in this is that you cling to the beautiful, to the everlasting, you watch the beautiful; but you shut yourself away from the ugly. Is it not important to be sensitive to both, to what you call beautiful and to what you call ugly? It is the lack of that sensitivity that divides life into the ugly and the beautiful. But if you are sensitive, receptive, capable of appreciating both what is called ugly and what is beautiful, then you will find their significance - that they are full of meaning, that they give enrichment to life. So, is beauty subjective or objective? If you were blind, if you were deaf, if you did not hear any music, would you miss beauty? Or, is beauty something inward? You may not see, you may not hear; but the feeling, that extraordinary feeling of being open, of appreciating everything even though you do not hear or you do not see, to be aware inwardly of all the things that are happening inside you, to every thought, to every feeling - is that also not beauty, is that also not subjective? But you see, we think beauty is something outside. That is why we buy pictures hang them up on the wall. We want beautiful saris, beautiful trousers, coats, turbans, we want to have every- thing outside of us; for we are afraid that without a reminder, we shall lose something inwardly. Can you divide life, the whole process of existence, of living, as subjective or objective? Is it not a wrong thing to divide life into the subjective and the objective? It is a double process, is it not? It is a complete process. without the outside, there is no inside; without the inside there is no outside. Question: Why is it that a strong man suppresses the weak? Krishnamurti: Do you suppress? Find out. Why do you, in argument, in physical strength, push away your brother younger than yourself, the smaller one? Why? Because you want to assert yourself, because you want to show your strength, you begin to assert, you begin to dominate, you begin to push the little child away; you begin to throw your weight about, because you want to show how much stronger, how much better, how much more powerful you are. It is the same thing with older people; they know a few more details from books, they have positions, they have money, they have got authority; and so they suppress, they push you aside; and you accept being pushed aside, because you also want to suppress somebody below you. So, the top people suppress you, and you suppress those who are below you. Each one wants to assert, to dominate, to how power over others. The very showing of power gives you satisfaction, the feeling that you are somebody; because most of you do not want to be nothing, you want to be somebody. Question: Then, why do the bigger fish want to swallow the smaller fish? Krishnamurti: Because, they want to live. The little fish live on the tiny fish, and the little fish are lived on by bigger fish. In the animal world, it may be perhaps natural. It may be you cannot alter it - the big fish living on the small fish. But the human big fish need not live on the human little fish. If you know how to use your intelligence, you can avoid living on each other, not only for physical but also for psychological reasons, for inward reasons. If you see this problem, if you understand it - which is, to have intelligence - then you will not live on another. But you want to live on another; so you live on somebody who is weaker than you. Freedom does not mean that you are free to do anything you like. Freedom can only be where there is intelligence; and intelligence can only come through the understanding of the relationship of you and me and all of us together with somebody else. Question: Is it true that scientific discoveries make our lives easy to live? Krishnamurti: Have they not made life easier? You have electricity, have you not? You use the switch and you have light. There is a telephone in that room and you can listen, if you want, to New York or to your friend in Benaras; is that not easy? Or, you can get into a plane and go to Delhi or New York. These are all scientific discoveries and they have made life easier. Science has also given you the atom bomb which can destroy human beings. Science has not only helped to destroy human beings, but it has also helped to cure diseases. But if we do not use scientific knowledge with intelligence, with love, we are going to destroy ourselves, because science is now discovering more and more, and there are atomic bombs which will destroy human beings. That is, using knowledge without love, we destroy each other, though science helps to make life easy. Question: What is death? Krishnamurti: What is death? This question from a little girl! You know, you see dead bodies being carried to the river; you have seen dead birds, dead leaves, dead trees, fruits that wither away, decay. Have you not seen the birds that are full of life, chattering away in the morning, calling to each other in the morning? In the evening, they may not be; they wither, they die. The person who lives in the morning may be carried away by disaster and be dead in the evening. We have seen all this. Death is common to all of us. We will all end that way. You may live for thirty or forty years crying, suffering, fearful; and at the end of forty or fifty years, you are no more. What is death and what is living? It is really a complex problem and I do not know if you want to go into it. What is it we call living, and what is it that we call death? If I know, if I can understand what living is, then I can understand what death is. Either one is frightened, or one does not understand it. Or, one has lost somebody whom one loves, and feels bereft, lonely; and therefore that has nothing to do with living. You separate death from living. Is death separate from life? Is not living a process of dying? For most of us, living means what? It means accumulating, choosing, suffering, laughing. At the background of it all, behind all pleasure and pain, there is fear - the fear of coming to an end, the fear of what is going to happen tomorrow. Please listen, ask your teachers afterwards what I am talking about, question them, find out. So, behind this, there is fear - fear of not being with name and fame, with property, with position which you want to continue. So, you say what happens after death? What is death, and what is it that comes to an end? Life? What is life? Is life merely breathing in oxygen and expelling it, is that life? Feeding, hating, loving, possessing, acquiring, being envious, comparing - that is what we know of life. For most of us, life is the constant battle that we have of pain and pleasure and suffering. Can that come to an end? Should we not die? In the autumn, the leaves on trees fall; in the cold weather the leaves drop and they reappear in the spring. So also should we not die to everything of yesterday, to all the accumulations, to all the hopes, to all the successes that we have gathered? Should we not die to all that and relive again tomorrow, so that we are fresh, like a new leaf, tender and sensitive? To such a man who is constantly dying, there is no death. But to a man who says, `I am somebody, I must continue', to him there is always death and the burning ghat; that man knows no love. December 24, 1952 RAJGHAT 14TH TALK TO BOYS AND GIRLS 25TH DECEMBER 1952 Perhaps what I am going to talk this morning may be rather difficult; and if you do not understand all the implications in it, perhaps you would, if you are inclined, discuss it with your teachers and get more out of it by talking it over together. There are various factors, various feelings, various ways in which human beings deteriorate. You know what it is to deteriorate, to disintegrate? What does it mean to integrate? To bring together, to be complete - that is, to be integrated so that your feelings, your body, are entirely one, in one direction, not in contradiction with each other; so that you are a whole human being without conflict. That is what is implied by integration. To disintegrate is the opposite - that is, to go to pieces, to scatter away that which has been put together, to tear asunder. There are many ways in which human beings destroy themselves, disintegrate, go to pieces. I think one of the major factors is the feeling of envy, which is so subtle, which is regarded under different names - as something worthwhile, something beneficial, something which is creditable in human endeavour. You know what envy is? It begins when you are very small - to be envious of your friend who looks better than you, who has better things than you, who has a better position than you; to be jealous if he is better than you in class, if he has got more marks, if he has better parents, if he belongs to a more distinguished family. So, jealousy begins at a very tender age, and gradually takes on the form of competition - to get better marks, to be a better athlete, to do something distinguished, to be more significant, more worthwhile, to outdo, to outshine others. It begins when you are very young at school and, as you grow older, it gets stronger and stronger - the envy of the rich to be richer, the envy of the poor to be rich, the envy of those who have had experience and who want more experience, the envy of those who write and want to write still better. The very desire to be better, to be more, to be something worthwhile, to have more experience is the process of acquisitiveness - to acquire, to gather, to hold. If you notice, the instinct in most of us is to acquire in order to get more and more saris, more and more clothes, more and more houses, more and more property. If it is not that, as you grow older, you want more experience, to have more knowledge, to feel that you know more than anybody else, that you have read much more than another; or that you are nearer to some big official higher up in Government; or spiritually, inwardly, to know that you have greater experience than another, to inwardly be conscious that you are humble, that you are virtuous, that you can explain and others cannot. So, the more you acquire, the greater the disintegration. The more lands, the more property you acquire, the more fame, the more experience, the more knowledge you gather, the greater the disintegration. You desire to acquire more; from this springs the universal disease of jealousy, of envy. Have you not noticed this not only in yourself, but in the older people about you - how the teacher wants to be a Professor, how the Professor wants to be the Principal, or how your own father and mother want to have more property, a bigger name? In the process of struggle in acquiring, you become cruel. In that acquisition, there is no love; in that way of life, you are in constant battle with your neighbour, with society. There is constant fear, and this is justified. So, we accept it as inevitable that we must be jealous, that we must acquire - though we give it a different name, a better sounding name than just acquisition, or creating envy. We call it evolution, growing, struggling; and we say that it is essential. But, you see, most of us are unconscious of all this; most of us are unaware that we are greedy, that we are acquisitive, that our hearts are being eaten away by envy, that our minds are deteriorating. When we do become aware of it, we justify it; or say that is wrong; or try to run away. So, envy is a very difficult thing to uncover or to discover, because the mind is the centre of that envy. The mind is envious. The structure of the mind is built on acquisition and envy. Look at your thoughts, for example, at the way you are thinking. The way of thinking is, generally the way of mere comparison - "I can explain better, I have greater memories". `The more' is the working of the mind. You understand, that is its way of existence. Cut it off and you will see what happens to the mind. If you cannot think in terms of the more, you will find it extremely difficult to think. So, `the more' is the comparative process of thought which creates time - time to become, to be somebody. So, this is the process of envy, of acquisition - the thinking comparatively: `I am this and I would be, some day, that; `I am ugly but I am going to be beautiful some day'. So, acquisitiveness, envy, comparative thinking produces discontent, restlessness. In contrast to that, we say we must be contented, we must be content with what we have; that is what people say who are on the top of the ladder. Universal religions preach contentment. Contentment is not a contrast, the opposite of acquisitiveness, as it is generally understood. Contentment is something which is much vaster and much more significant than the opposite of acquisitiveness, than the opposite of envy - which is to become a vegetable, a dead entity, as most people are. Most people are very quiet but inwardly they are dead; and because they have cultivated this feeling of the opposite, the opposite to everything that they are, they say `I am envious and I must not be envious'. In contrast to the everlasting struggle of envy, you may deny all that you are, you may say you are not going to acquire, you may say you are going to wear a loin cloth. But, this very desire to be good, this very desire to pursue the opposite is still in time, in the vision of envy, in the feeling of envy; you still want to be something. But contentment is not that. Contentment is something much more creative, something more profound. Contentment is not when you choose to be content; contentment does not come that way. Contentment comes when you understand what you are, what you actually are and not what you should be. You think contentment comes when you achieve all that you want. You want to be a Collector or the greatest saint, and you think you will have contentment by that. So, through the process of envy, you hope to arrive at contentment. That is, through a wrong process, you want to achieve the right result. Contentment is not that. Contentment is something very vital. It is a state of creativeness in which the understanding of what actually is, exists. If you understand what you are actually, from moment to moment, from day to day, then, if you pursue that, if you understand that, you will see that out of it comes an extraordinary feeling of vastness, of limitless comprehension. That is, if I am greedy, I want to understand that, not how to become non-greedy; the very desire to become non-greedy is still greed. Our religious structure, our ways of thinking, our social life, everything is based on acquisitiveness, on an envious system; and for centuries, we have been brought up like that. We are so conditioned that we cannot think apart from `the better', `the more'. Because we cannot think apart from that, we make envy into a virtue; we do not call it envy, we call it by a different name; but if you go behind the words and look at it, you will see this extraordinary feeling is egotistic, which is self-inclusive, which is limiting thought. The mind that is limited by envy, by `the me', by acquisitiveness of things or of virtue, such a mind can never be a truly religious mind. The religious mind is not a comparative mind. The religious mind sees what is, and understands the full significance behind it. That is why it is very important to understand yourself, to understand the workings of your mind, the motives, the intentions, the longings, the desires, the constant pressures of pursuance, which create envy, acquisitiveness, the comparative mind. It is only when all these come to an end that you really understand what is; then, you will know true religion, what God is. Question: Is truth relative or absolute? Krishnamurti: First of all, let us look behind the meaning and significance of that question. We want something absolute, don't we?, something permanent, fixed, immovable, eternal, something definite. The human craving is for something permanent, something that is not decaying, that has no death, so that the mind can cling to an idea or to a feeling that is everlasting. Or the mind seeks the Absolute, something that does not die, that does not decay as thought does, as feeling does. Or the mind says, `Is there something permanent'? First, we must understand all this before we can understand this question and answer it rightly. The mind, the human mind, wants something permanent in everything - in relationship, in my father, in my wife, in my husband, in my property, in virtue - something which cannot be destroyed; and so we say God is permanent or truth is absolute. What is truth? Is truth something extraordinary, something beyond, outside, unimaginable, abstract? Or, is truth something which you discover from moment to moment, from day to day? If it is something to be accumulated, to be gathered through your experiences, then it is not truth; because, the same spirit of acquisitiveness lies behind this gathering. Is truth something which lies beyond, which can only be found through profound meditation? Then there is a process of acquisitiveness and also, at the same time, a process of denial, of sacrifice. Truth is something to be understood, to be discovered in every action, in every thought, in every feeling, however trivial, however transient; truth is something to be looked at, to be listened to - as to what the husband says; or what the wife says; or what the gardener says; or what your friends say; or what your own thinking is. To discover the truth of what you think - because your thoughts may be false or your thoughts may be conditioned - to discover that your thought is conditioned, is truth. To discover that your thought is limited, is truth; that very discovery sets your mind free from limitation. If I discover that I am greedy - discover it, not be told by you that I am greedy - that very discovery is truth; that very truth has an action upon my greed. Truth is not something which is gathered, accumulated, stored up, upon which you can rely as a guide. If you do, it is only another form of the same thing, another form of possession. It is very difficult for the mind not to acquire, not to store. When you realize this, you will find out what an extraordinary thing truth is. It is timeless, because the moment you capture it, it is not truth - as when you say, `It is mine', `I have found it', `It is so', `It is not so'. So, it depends on the mind whether truth is absolute or timeless. Because, the absolute is unchangeable; and the mind that says, `I want the absolute, that which has no death, that which is never decaying', such a mind wants something permanent and creates the permanent. But a mind that is being aware of everything that is happening inwardly, and sees the truth of it, such a mind is timeless; such a mind only can know what is beyond words, beyond names, beyond the permanent and the impermanent. Question: What is external awareness? Krishnamurti: Are you not aware that you are sitting in this hall? Are you not aware of the trees, of the sunshine? Are you not aware that the crow is cawing, the birds are calling, the dog is barking? Do you not see the colour of the flowers, the movement of the leaves, the people walking? That is external awareness. The stars at night, the moonlight on the water, the sunset, the birds, all that is external awareness. Is it not? And if you are thus externally aware, you are also inwardly aware of your thoughts, inwardly aware of your feelings, of your motives, of your urges, your prejudices, envies, greed, pride and so on. Are you not aware inwardly? The inward awareness begins to awaken, to become more and more conscious, through reaction - the reaction to what people say, the reaction to what you read. The reaction, the response of your relationship with other people, may be external; but that response is the outcome of an inward suspense, an inward anxiety, an inward fear. The outward awareness and the inward awareness bring about a total integration of human understanding. Question: What is real and eternal happiness? Krishnamurti; As I said the other day, when you are conscious of anything, conscious that it is so, what happens? Let me put it differently. When are you conscious? When are you aware of something? When are you conscious that you are ill, that you have tummyache? When you are completely healthy, you are totally unconscious of your body. It is only when there is disease, when there is friction, when there is trouble, that you become conscious of it. If you have a perfectly healthy body, are you aware of it? It is only when you have some kind of pain that you are conscious that you have a body. When you are really free to think completely, then there is no consciousness of thinking. It is only when there is friction, when there is a blockage, a limit, that you begin to feel, that you become conscious. Is happiness something of which you are aware? When you are healthy, are you aware that you are healthy? When you are joyous, are you aware that you are joyous? It is only when you are unhappy that you want happiness. Therefore, the question arises what is permanent and eternal happiness? You see how the mind plays tricks. Because you are unhappy, miserable, because you are in poor circumstances and so on, you want something which is eternal, some permanent happiness. Is there such a thing? Instead of asking the ques- tion whether there is permanent happiness, find out how to be free from the diseases which are gnawing at you, how to be free from pain - not only the physical but the inward. When you are free, there is no problem of whether there is eternal happiness or what that happiness is. It is like a man who is in prison. He wants to know what freedom is; and lazy, foolish people tell him what freedom is; and to the man in prison, it is mere speculation. If he knew how to get out of that prison, he would not ask what freedom is; it would be there. Similarly, is it not important to find out why it is that we are unhappy, and in what is happiness? Why is it our minds are so crippled? Why is it that our thoughts are so limited, so small, so petty? If you can understand that, see the truth of that, then there is liberation; and that liberation is the discovery of the limited thought; and that discovery is the truth and that truth liberates. Question: Why do people want things? Krishnamurti: Don't you want food when you are hungry? Don't you want clothes, don't you want a house to shelter you? Those are normal wants, are they not? Healthy people naturally have wants. It is only the diseased man that says,'I do not want food'. It is a perverted mind that either must have many houses or no house to live in. Your body is hungry, because you are using energy; so, it wants more food; that is normal. But if you say, `I must have the tastiest food, I must have the food that I like, that my tongue takes pleasure in', then there is perversion taking place. We all must have - not only the rich but everybody in the world must have - food, shelter and clothing; but if shelter, food and clothing are limited, controlled and divided among the few, then there is perversion, and there is the unnatural process set going. At the physical level, we must have food, clothing and shelter, not only for you but for the villager; but if you say, `I must accumulate, I must have everything', then you are depriving others of that which is essential for their daily needs. But you see it is not so simple as that, because we want other things than those which are essential for our daily needs. I may not want too many clothes; I may be satisfied with a few clothes, with a small room, though you may want to live in a house and not in a small room; but I want something more: I want to be a well-known person, I want to have an enormous amount of money, I want to be nearest to God, I want my friends to think well of me, I want to be well-known, I want to be a poet, I want money, many things other than merely the physical necessities. Inward wants prevent outward interests in every human being. It is a little difficult because the inward wants and the feeling that `I am the richest man', `I am the most powerful man', `I want to be somebody' and so on, are made dependent on things, on food, clothes, shelter; I lean on those things in order to become inwardly rich; therefore, so long as I am in this state, it is not possible for me to be inwardly rich, to be utterly simple inwardly. December 25, 1952 RAJGHAT 15TH TALK TO BOYS AND GIRLS 26TH DECEMBER 1952 Perhaps, some of you were interested in what I was saying yesterday about envy. I am not using the word `remember', because as I have explained, remembrance, remembering the word or phrases only, makes the mind dull, lethargic, heavy, slow and so very uncreative. It is very destructive, merely to remember things. But what is very important, while we are young, in spite of modern education, is to understand and not to cultivate memory; because, understanding frees, understanding brings the critical faculty of analysis; you see the fact and then perhaps rationalize it. But merely remembering certain phrases and sentences or certain ideas prevents you from looking at the fact of jealousy, at the fact of envy. If you understand envy which lurks behind good works, behind philanthropy, behind religion, behind your pursuit to be great, to be saintly, if you really understand that, then you will see that there is an extraordinary freedom from jealousy. As I was saying, it is important, really important to understand, because remembrance is a dead thing; and perhaps also that is one of the major causes of our deterioration, specially in this country, where we imitate, copy, follow, create ideals, heroes, so that gradually, the picture, the symbol, the word re- mains, the phrase remains, without anything behind it. This is specially so in modern education which merely prepares you to pass certain examinations - which is, merely to memorize. This is not creative; this is not understanding, but merely remembering things that you have read in books, that you have been taught; and so, throughout life, gradually, memory is cultivated and real understanding is destroyed. Please listen to this very carefully, because it is very important to understand this. Understanding is creative, not memory, not remembrance. Understanding is the liberating factor, not memory of the things that you have stored up. Understanding is not something in the future. The cultivation of memory brings to you the idea of the future; but if you understand directly, that is, if you see something very clearly, then there is no problem; the problem exists only when we do not see clearly. As I was saying, what is important in life is not what you know, what you have gathered, how much knowledge or how much experience you have. What is really important is to understand, to see things as they are and to see them immediately, because comprehension is immediate. That is why experience and knowledge become deteriorating factors in life. For most of us, experience is very important; for most of us, knowledge is very significant; but when you really go behind the words and see the significance, the meaning of knowledge, the meaning of experience, you will find it is one of the major facts of deterioration. This does not mean that it is not right at certain levels of life, at certain levels of existence - to know how to grow a tree, to know what kind of nourishment it should have, how to feed the chickens, how to raise the family properly, how to build a bridge. There is an enormous amount of knowledge with regard to science, which is right; for example, it is right that we should know how to run a dynamo or a motor; but when knowledge is merely memory, it is destructive; you will find experience also becomes a very destructive thing, because experience brings memory. I do not know if you have noticed how certain grown up people think merely bureaucratically as officials. They are teachers and their only function is to be teachers, not to be human beings pulsating with life; they know certain rules of grammar or mathematics or history; and because of their memory, their experience, that knowledge is destroying them. Life is not a thing that you learn from somebody. Life is a thing that you listen to, that you understand from moment to moment, without accumulating experience. Because after all what have you got when you have experience; when you say, `I have had an enormous amount of experience', when you say, `I know the meaning of those words'? Memory, is it not? You have had certain experiences, how to run an office, how to put up a building or bridge; and according to them, you have further experience. So, you cultivate experience and that experience is memory; and with that memory you meet life, Life is like the river - running, swift, volatile, never still. You meet life with the heavy burden of memory, of experience; naturally, you never contact life. You are only meeting your own experience which only strengthens your knowledge; and gradually, knowledge and experience become the most destructive factors in life. I hope you understand this very deeply, because what I am saying is very true; and if you understand it, you will use knowledge at its proper level. But when you merely accumulate knowledge and experience as a means to understand life, as a means to strengthen your position in the world, then it becomes most destructive, it destroys your initiative, your creativeness. In this world, especially here, most of us are so burdened with authority or with what people have said or with the Bhagvad Gita or with ideals, that our lives have become very dull. But these are all memories, remembrances; they are not things that are understood, that are living; there is no new thing in being burdened with those memories, and as life is everlastingly new, we cannot understand it; and therefore living becomes a burdensome thing; we are lethargic; we grow mentally and physically fat and ugly. It is very important to understand this. Simplicity is the freedom of the mind from experience, from remembering, from memory. We think simplicity is to have a few clothes, a begging bowl; we think that a simple life is externally to have very little. That may be alright; but real simplicity is the freedom from knowledge, from remembering that knowledge or from accumulating experience. Have you not noticed people who have very little, those people who say they are very simple? Though they may have only a loin cloth and a staff, they are all full of ideals. Have you listened to them? Have you heard them? They are very complex inwardly, struggling, battling against their own projections, their own beliefs. They believe; they have many beliefs. Inwardly, they are very complex, they are not simple; they are full of books, they are full of ideals, dogmas, fears. But outwardly, they have only a staff and a few clothes. The simplicity of real life is to be inwardly completely empty, to be innocent inwardly without the accumulation of knowledge, without belief, without dogmas, without the fear of authority; and that can only take place if you really understand every experience. If you have understood an experience, then that experience is over; but because we do not understand it, because we remember the pleasure or the pain of it, we are never inwardly simple. So those who are religiously inclined, pursue the things that make for outward simplicity; but inwardly, they are chaotic, confused, burdened with innumerable longings, desires, knowledge; they are frightened of living, of experiencing. When you look at all this, you will see that envy is a very deep rooted form of remembering, it is a very destructive factor, it is a very deteriorating thing; so likewise, is experience. The man who is full of experience is not a wise man. Please listen. The man who has experience and clings to that experience is not the wise man; he is like any school boy who reads, who has accumulated information from books; such a man is not a wise man. A wise man is innocent, inwardly free of experience; such a man is a simple man inwardly, though he may have all the things of the earth or very little. Question: Does intelligence build up character? Krishnamurti: What do you mean by character? Please listen very carefully to everything that is being said, both to the question and to the answer. What do we mean by `character'? What do we mean by `intelligence'? Let us find out what we mean by these two words. We use these words very freely. Every politician from Delhi, or your own local tubthumper uses them - character, ideal, intelligence, religion, God. These are words and we listen to them with rapt attention, because they seem very important. We live on words; and the more elaborate, the more exquisite the words we use, the more we are satisfied. Let us find out what we mean by `intelligence' and what we mean by character. Do not say I am not answering you definitely. That is one of the tricks of the mind; that means, you are definitely not understanding and you just want to follow words. What is intelligence? Is a man who is frightened, anxious, envious, greedy; whose mind is copying, imitating, filled with other people's experiences and knowledge; whose mind is limited, controlled, shaped by society, by environment; is such a man an intelligent man? You call him an intelligent man, but he is not, is he? Can such a man who is frightened, who is not intelligent, have character - character being something original, not the mere repeating of traditional do's and don't's? Is character respectability? Do you understand what respectability means? To be respected by the majority, to be respected by the people about you. What do the people of the family respect, what do the people of the mass respect? They respect the things which they themselves project, which they themselves want, which they themselves see in contrast. That is, you are respected because you are rich or powerful or big, because you are well-known politically, because you have written books; you may talk utter nonsense but, when you have talked, people say you are a big man. As you know people, as you win the respect of the many, the following of the multitude gives you a sense of respectability which is the `being safe'. The sinner is nearer to God than the respectable man, because the respectable man is enclosed by hypocrisy. Is character the outcome of imitation, the outcome of what people will say or won't say? Is character the result of the mere strengthening of one's own prejudiced tendencies, the following of the tradition of India or of Europe or of America? That is generally called character - to be a strong man, to be respected. But when you are imitating, when you are frightened, is there intelligence, is there character? When you are imitating, fol- lowing, worshipping, when you have ideals which you are following, that way leads to respectability but not to understanding. A man of ideals is a respectable man; but he will never be near God, he will never know what it is to love. Ideals are a means to cover up his fear, his imitations, his loneliness. So, without understanding yourself - how you think, whether you are copying, whether you are imitating, whether you are frightened, whether you are envious, whether you are seeking power - without understanding all this which is operating in you, which is your mind, there cannot be intelligence; and it is intelligence that creates character, not hero worship, not the ideal, not the picture. The understanding of oneself, of one's own extraordinarily complicated self, is the beginning of intelligence which brings character. Question: Why does a man feel disturbed when a person looks at him attentively? Krishnamurti: Do you feel nervous when somebody looks at you? Do you feel nervous when somebody whom you consider inferior, a servant, a villager, looks at you? You do not even know that he is looking at you, you just pass him by; you don't even know that he is there, you have no regard for him. But when your father, your mother, your daughter looks at you, you feel anxious; because you feel that they know a little more than you do, that they may find out things about you, you are anxious. If you go a little higher, if a Government Official or a priest or somebody looks at you, you are pleased; you hope to get something from him, a job, or some reward. But if a man looks at you, who does not want anything from you - neither your flattery nor your insult - who is quite indifferent to you, then you will find out why he is looking at you. You should not be nervous but you should find out what is operating in your own mind when such a person looks at you, because looks mean a great deal, because a smile means something. You see, unfortunately, most of you are utterly unaware of all these things. You never notice the beggar; you never notice the villager carrying his heavy burden, or the parrot that flies. You are so occupied with your own sorrows, with your longings, with your fears, with your rituals that you are never aware of the things of life; and so if any one looks at you, you are apprehensive. Question: Cannot we cultivate understanding? Is understanding experience? When we try to understand constantly, does it not mean that we want to experience understanding? Krishnamurti: Is understanding cultivable? Is understanding to be practised? You practise tennis; you practise the piano or singing or dancing; or you read a book over and over again till you are familiar with it. Now, is understanding the same thing, something to be practised - which means, repeating; which means really, cultivating remembrance? If I can remember constantly all the time, is that understanding? Is not understanding something from moment to moment, something that cannot be practised? When do you understand? What is the state of your mind or your heart when there is understanding? When I say that experience and the memory of experience are destructive, are deteriorating, what is the state of your mind when it hears that? When you hear me say that jealousy is destructive, that envy is one of the major factors which destroy relationship, how do you react to it? What happens to you? Do you say, "It is perfectly true, I understand it"? Or do you say, `What would happen if I am jealous'? - which is to rationalize it. When you hear something very true about jealousy, do you see the truth of it immediately or do you begin to think about it, talk about it, discuss it, analyse it, see what it all means and then see if you can be free from jealousy? Is understanding a process of slow rationalization, of slow analysis? When you hear the truth of something - like `envy is destructive' -do you immediately understand that it is so? Do you follow? Can understanding be cultivated as you cultivate your garden to produce fruits or flowers? Can you cultivate understanding which is really to see something without any barrier of words or of prejudices or of motives, to see something direct? Question: Is the power of understanding the same in all persons? Krishnamurti: You see very quickly, you understand immediately, because the thing is presented to you and you have no barriers. I have many barriers, many prejudices; I am jealous; my conflicts have been built upon envy, upon my importance. You are not full of your own importance; so you see immediately. You are eager to find out; but I have done many things in life, and I do not want to see. You have no barriers and you see immediately; I have innumerable barriers, I do not want to see; and so I do not see. Therefore, I do not understand and you understand. Question: I can remove the barriers slowly by constantly trying to question. Krishnamurti: No. I can only remove the barriers, not try to understand. You hear someone say that envy is destructive. You listen and understand the significance and the truth of it; and you say, `Yes; you are free from that feeling of jealousy and envy. I do not want to see it because if I listen to the truth of it, it would destroy my whole structure of life. What am I to do? Am I to remove the structure or the barrier? I can only remove the barrier, when I really feel the importance of not having the barriers - which means, that I must feel the barriers. Question: I feel the necessity. Krishnamurti: When do you feel that? Will you remove the barriers because of circumstances or because somebody tells you? Or will you remove it when you yourself feel inwardly that to have any barriers creates a mind in which slow decay is taking place -that is, when you yourself see the importance of removing the barriers. And when do you see it? When you suffer? But suffering does not necessarily awaken you to remove these barriers; on the contrary, suffering helps you to create more barriers. You remove those barriers when you yourself are beginning to listen, to find out. There is no reason for removing, no outside reason or inward reason; the moment you bring in a reason, you are not removing the barriers. So, that is the great miracle, that is the greatest blessing, to give the inward something an opportunity to remove the barrier. But, you see, when we want to remove it, when we practise to remove it, when we say it must be removed, all that is the work of the mind; and the mind cannot remove the barrier. No rituals, no compulsions, no fears can remove the barrier. But when you see that nothing will remove it, that no attempt on your part will remove it, then the mind becomes very quiet, the mind becomes very still; and in that stillness, you find that which is True. December 26, 1952 RAJGHAT 16TH TALK TO BOYS AND GIRLS 28TH DECEMBER 1952 You may remember that we have been talking about the deteriorating factors in human existence. We said fear was one of the fundamental causes of this deterioration. We also said that the following of authority in any form, whether self-imposed or established from outside, is destruction to incentive, to creativeness. We were saying that any form of imitation, copying, following, is destructive to the creative discovery of what is true. We said that truth is not something that can be followed; truth has to be discovered; you cannot find it through any book, through any particular accumulated experience. Experience itself, as we discussed the other day, becomes a remembrance, and the remembrance is the destruction of creative understanding. Any form of malice, envy, however small it be, which is really comparative thinking, is also destructive to this creative life without which there is no happiness. Happiness is not something to be bought; it is not something that comes when you go after it; it is there when there is no conflict. Is it not very important, not only to listen to all these discussions, these talks in the mornings, but to actually find out for yourself, not only when you are young but also as you grow older into maturity, all the complications of maturity? But before we go into that, should we not, while we are in school, try to find out the significance of words? The symbol has become an extraordinarily destructive thing for most of us, and of this we are unaware. You know what I mean by `symbol'? The shadow of a truth. The shadow is the symbol of truth. The gramophone record is not the real voice; but the voice, the sound, has been put on record and to that you listen. The image is the symbol, the idea of what the original thing is. The word, the symbol, the image and the worship of the image, the reverence to the symbol, the following, the giving significance to words - all this is very destructive; because then the word the symbol, the image becomes all important. That is how temples, stupas, churches become very important organizations, and the symbols, ideas, dogmas become the factors which prevent the mind from going beyond and discovering what the truth is. So, do not be caught up in words, in symbols, which automatically cultivate habit. Habit is the most destructive factor when you want to think creatively; habit comes in the way. Perhaps, you do not understand the whole significance of what I am saying; but you will, if you think about it. Go out for a walk yourself occasionally and think out these things. Find out what words like life and God mean, and also what is meant by those extraordinary words, like duty and cooperation, which we use freely. What does `duty' mean? Duty to what? To the aged, to what tradition says, to sacrifice yourself for your parents, for your country, for your Gods? That word `duty' becomes extraordinarily significant to us. It is pregnant with a lot of meaning which is imposed upon us. What is much more important than duty to anything - to your country, to your gods, to your neighbour - what is much more important than the word, is to find out for yourself what truth is - not what you want, not what you would like not what gives you pleasure, not what gives you pain. But, to find out what truth is, the word `duty' has very little meaning; because, parents or society use that as a means of moulding you, of shaping you to their particular idiosyncracies, to their habits of thought, to their liking, to their safety. So, find out for yourself, take time, be patient, analyse, go into it; do not accept the word `duty' because where there is duty, there is no love. Similarly, the word `co-operation'. The State wants you to cooperate with it. Co-operation with something is not what is true, You merely imitate, when you copy. If you understand, if you find out what the truth of something is, then you are living with it, you are going with it; it is part of you. It is very significant to be aware, it is very necessary to be aware of all the words, the symbols, the images which cripple your thinking. To be aware of them and to see whether you can go beyond them is essential, if you are to live creatively without disintegration. You know, we use the word `duty' to kill us. Duty - the duty to the country, the duty to parents, the duty to relations - sacrifices you. It makes you go out, fight and kill and be maimed; because, the politician, the leader says it is your duty to protect the country, it is your duty to your community to destroy others. So, killing another for the sake of your country becomes part of your duty; and gradually, you are drawn into the military spirit, the spirit which makes you obedient, which makes you physically very disciplined; but inwardly, your mind gets destroyed because you are imitating, following, copying; and so, gradually, you become a tool to the older people, to the politician, to propaganda. So you gradually learn to kill, and you accept killing in order to protect your country as inevitable because somebody says so. It does not matter who says so; think it out for yourself very clearly. To kill is obviously the most destructive and most corrupt action in life, specially to kill another human being; because, when you kill, you are full of hatred, you create antagonism in others. You can kill with a word, with an action; killing another human being has never solved any of our problems. War has never solved any of our economic, social, human relationships; and yet, the whole world is preparing for war everlastingly, because there are many reasons why they want to kill people. But do not be swept away by reason; because, you may have one reason and I may have another reason, your reason may be stronger than my reason. But no reason is necessary. First get to the truth of it, to the feeling of it, how necessary it is not to kill. It does not matter who says so, from the highest authority to the lowest; inwardly find out the truth of it in general principles; when you are clear of that inwardly, then the details can be gone into later, then you can reason them out; but do not start by reasoning, because every reason can be countered, there can be a counter reason for every reason and you are caught in reasoning. It is necessary to know for yourselves what the truth is; then you can begin to use reason. When you know for yourself what is true, when you know that killing of another is not love, when you feel inwardly the truth of `there must be no enmity', when you really feel that inwardly, then no amount of reason can destroy it. Then, no politician, no priest, no parent, can sacrifice you for an idea or for their safety. Always, the old sacrifice the young; and you in your turn, as you grow older, will sacrifice the young. But you have to prevent this, because it is the most destructive way of living, and is one of the greatest factors of human deterioration. In order to prevent this degeneration, to put an end to it, you have to find out the truth for yourself. You, as an individual, not belonging to any group, to any organization, have to find out the truth of not killing, the feeling of love, the feeling that there must be no enmity. Then, no amount of words, no reasons can ever persuade you. So, it is very important, while you are young, specially in a school of this kind, to think out these things, to feel them out and to establish and lay the foundations for the discovery of truth. We are going to make something out of this school though it is not what it should be; you and I, you the students and teachers, all of us together, are going to make something out of it, all of us are going to build this thing, a school where you are taught not merely information but also to discover what is truth, so that throughout life, as you grow, you know how to find out for yourself without any authority, without any following, that which is real. Otherwise, you will become one of the factors of destruction and deterioration, and there is no greater corruption. Listen to all this carefully. If there is the right foundation now then as you grow older, you will know how to act. Question: What is the purpose of creation? Krishnamurti: Are you really interested in it? What do you mean by `creation'? What is the purpose of living? What do we mean by `living'? What is the purpose of your existence, of your reading, studying, passing examinations? What is the purpose of the relationship of parents, wife, children? What is life? Is that what you mean? What is the purpose of creation? When do you ask that question? When you do not see clearly, when you are confused, when you are in the dark, when you are blind, when you do not know, when you do not feel it for yourselves, then you want to know what the purpose of existence is. When inwardly there is no clarity, when there is misery, then you ask `what is the purpose of life?' There are many people who will give you the purpose of life; they will tell you what the sacred books say. Clever people will go on inventing what the purpose of life is. The political group will have one purpose; the religious group will have another purpose; and so on and on. So, what is the purpose of life when you yourself are confused? When I am confused, I ask you this question, `What is the purpose of life?', because I hope that through this confusion I shall find an answer. How can I find a true answer, when I am confused? Do you understand? If I am confused, I can only receive an answer which is also confused. If my mind is confused, if my mind is disturbed, if my mind is not beautiful, quiet, whatever answer I receive will be through this screen of confusion, anxiety and fear; therefore, the answer will be perverted. So, what is important is not to ask, `What is the purpose of life, of existence?' but to clear the confusion that is within you. It is like a blind man who asks, `What is light?' If I tell him what light is, he will listen according to his blindness, according to his darkness; but suppose he is able to see, then, he will never ask the question `what is light?'. It is there. Similarly, if you can clarify the confusion within yourself, then you will find what the purpose of life is; you will not have to ask, you will not have to look for it; all that you have to do is to be free from those causes which bring about confusion. The causes of confusion are very clear; they are in `the me', in `the I', that is constantly wanting to expand itself through envy, through jealousy, through hatred, through imitation; and the symptoms are jealousy, envy, greed, fear, the wanting to copy and so on. As long as inwardly that is so, there is confusion. You are always seeking for outward answers; but it is only when that confusion is cleared, that you will know the significance of existence. Question: What is Karma? Krishnamurti: Are you all interested in that? Why do you ask such a question? Yet that is one of the peculiar words we use, one of the words in which our thought is caught. The poor man says `My Karma'. He has to accept life as a theory; he has to accept misery, starvation, squalor, dirt. He has to accept it because he has no energy, he has not enough food, he does not break away from it and create a revolution. He has to accept what life gives; and so he says, `It is my Karma to be like this', and the politicians, the big ones, encourage him to accept life with its squalor, with its misery, with its dirt and starvation. You do not want to revolt against all this, do you? When you pay the poor so little and you have so much, what is going to happen? So, you gradually invent that word `karma', the passive acceptance of the misery of life. The man on the top, who has achieved, who has inherited, who has been educated, who has come to the top of things, says, `It is also my karma; I have done well in my past life and so it is my karma to reap the reward of my past action', he wants to go to the top of things, to have many houses, power, position, and the means of corruption. Is that karma, to accept things as they are? Do you understand? Is it karma to have the spirit of acceptance of things as they are, which many of the teachers and you have, without a spark of revolt, to be ready to accept, to obey? So, you see how easily, because we are not alive, words become nets in which we are caught. But there is a bigger significance to that word `karma', which has to be understood not as a theory, which cannot be understood if you say; `That is what the Bhagvad Gita says'. You know, the comparative mind is the most stupid mind because it does not think; it says, `I have read that book and what you say is like it'. When you have such a mind, it means you have stopped thinking, you have stopped investigating to find out what is true, irrespective of what any book or any particular guru has said. When you compare, has not your mind ceased to think, ceased to discover what is true? When you read Shakespeare or Buddha, or when you listen to your guru, suppose you compare them; what happens to your mind? Your mind has not found out, has not discovered; it does not throw off all authorities and investigate. So, what is important is to find out and not to compare. Comparison, as I pointed out to you, is authority, is imitation, is thoughtlessness; and it is the very nature of our mind not to be awake to discover what is true, You say, `That is what has been said by the Buddha; that is so', and you think that thereby you have solved your problems. But to discover the truth of anything, you have to be extremely active, vigorous, self-reliant; and you cannot have self-reliance if you are thinking comparatively. Please listen to all this. If there is no self-reliance, you lose all power to investigate and to find out what is true. Self-reliance brings a certain freedom in which you discover; and that freedom is denied to you when you are comparing. So really the problem of Karma is quite complex; and I do not know if we should go into it here. This may not be the right place, because we are not dealing with the problems of the old and their extraordinarily complex minds. What we are dealing with here are the problems of the young in relation to their teachers, in their relationship to their parents and in their relationship to society. Question: Is there an element of fear in respect, or not? Krishnamurti: What do you say when you show respect to your teacher, to your parents, to your Guru, and disrespect to your servants? You kick those people who are not important, and you lick the boots of those who are above you, the officials, the politician, the big ones. Is there not an element of fear in that? Because, from the big ones you want something; from the teacher, from the examiner, from the professor, from the parents, from the politician, from the bank manager, you want something. What can the poor people give you? So, you disregard them, you treat them with contempt, you do not even know that they pass you by. You do not even look at them, you do not even know that they shiver in the cold, that they are dirty and hungry; but you will give to the big ones, the great ones of the land, the little that you have in order to receive more of their favours. So in that, there is definitely, is there not?, an element of fear; there is no love. If you had love, then you would show love to those who have nothing and also to those who have everything; then, you would not be afraid of those who have, and you would not disregard those who have not. So respect in that sense is the outcome of fear. Love is not the outcome of fear; in love, there is no fear. December 28, 1952 RAJGHAT 17TH TALK TO BOYS AND GIRLS 29TH DECEMBER 1952 We have been trying to point out the various factors that bring about human deterioration, in our existence, in our lives, in our activities, in our thoughts; and we said that it is conflict that is one of the major factors of this deterioration. Is not peace also, as it is generally understood, a destructive factor? Can peace come about by the mind? If we have peace of mind, does not that also lead to corruption, deterioration? If we are not very observant, we will narrow down the window of that word, through which we can look at the world and understand. We can make the word `peace' such a narrow phrase that we will see only part of the sky and not the whole. It is only when we can perceive the whole vastness, the enormity, the magnificence of the sky, then only is there the possibility of having peace - not by merely pursuing peace, which is the inevitable process of thought, of the mind. Perhaps it may be a little difficult to understand this. I am going to try to make it as simple and clear as it is possible. I think if we can understand this, what it means to be peaceful, what is peace, then perhaps we shall understand the real significance of love. We think peace is something to be got through the mind, through reason; but, can peace ever come through any quieting, through any control, through any domination of thought? We all want peace. For most of us, peace means to be left alone, not to be interfered with, to build a wall round our own mind by means of ideas. This is very important in your lives; for, as you grow older, you will be faced with these problems of war and peace. Is peace something to be pursued after and got and tamed by the mind? For most of us, peace means a slow decay; wherever we are, stagnation comes; we think by clinging to an idea, by building walls of security, of safety, of ideas, of habits, of beliefs, by pursuing a principle, a particular tendency, a particular fancy, a particular wish, we will find peace. That is what most of us want, not to make effort but to live without an effort in some kind of stagnation. When we find we cannot have that kind of peace, we make tremendous efforts to have peace, to find some corner in the universe, in our being, where we can crawl and, in the darkness of self-enclosure, live. That is what most of us want in our relationship with the husband, with the wife, with parents, with friends. Unconsciously we want peace at any price, and so we pursue. Can the mind ever find peace? Is not the mind itself a source of disturbance? The mind can only gather, accumulate, deny, assert, remember and pursue. Is peace - which is so essential because without peace you cannot live, you cannot create - something to be realized through the struggles, through the denials, through the sacrifices of the mind? Do you understand what I am talking about? As we grow older, unless we are very wise and watchful, though we may be discontented while we are young, that discontent will be canalized into some form of peaceful resignation to life. The mind is everlastingly seeking somewhere to create a secluded habit, belief, desire, in which it can live and be peaceful with the world. But the mind cannot find peace, because the mind can only think in terms of time - as the past, the present and the future; what it has been, what it is, and what it will be - condemning, judging, weighing, pursuing its own vanities, habits, beliefs. The mind can never be peaceful though it can delude itself into some kind of peace; but that is not peace. It can mesmerize itself with words by the repetition of phrases by merely following somebody, by knowledge; but such a mind is not a peaceful mind, because the mind is itself the centre of attraction, the mind is by its very nature the essence of time. So, the mind with which you think, with which you calculate, with which you contrive, with which you compare, such a mind is incapable of finding peace. Peace is not the outcome of reason; and yet, when you observe the organized religions that you know, you see that they are caught in the pursuit of the peace of the mind. But peace is something which is as creative as war is destructive, something which is as pure as war is destructive; and to find that peace, one must understand beauty. That is why it is very important, while we are very young, to have beauty about us, the beauty of buildings, of proper proportions, of true appreciation, of cleanliness, of quiet talk among the elders, so that in understanding what beauty is, we shall know what love is, how beauty of the heart is the peace of the heart. Peace is of the heart, not of the mind. So, you have to find out what beauty is. It matters very much, the way you talk; for, you will discover through the words you use, the gestures you make, what the refinement of your heart is. For, beauty is something that cannot be defined, that cannot be explained through words. It can only be called or understood when the mind is very quiet. So, while you are young and sensitive, it is essential for you as well as for those who are responsible for the young, for students, to create this atmosphere of beauty. The way you dress, the way you sit, the way you talk and eat, and the things about you, are very important. For, as you grow, you will meet all the ugly things of life - ugly buildings, ugly people, malice, envy, ambition, cruelty -and if in your hearts there is no perception of beauty, founded and established in yourself, you can easily be swept away by the enormous current of the world; and then you will be caught in the struggle to find peace of the mind. The mind creates the idea of what peace is, and tries to pursue it and then gets caught in the net of words, of fancies, of illusions. So, peace can only come when you understand what love is. Because, if you have peace merely through security - financial or otherwise - through money, or through certain dogmas, rituals and repetitions, there is no creativeness; there is no urgency to bring about a fundamental, radical revolution in the world. Because, peace then only leads to contentment and resignation. But when you understand the peace in which there is love and beauty, the extraordinary strangeness of it, then you will find peace - the peace that is not understood by the mind. It is this peace that is creative, that brings order within oneself, that removes confusion. But this does not come through any effort. It comes when you are constantly watching and being sensitive both to the ugly and to the beautiful, to the good and to the bad, to all the fluctuations of life; because peace is something enormously great, extensive, not something petty, not created by the mind. That can only be understood when the heart is full. Question: Why do we feel inferior before our superiors? Krishnamurti: Who are your superiors? Who are the people whom you consider your superiors? Those who know? Those who have titles, degrees, or those from whom you want some kind of reward, some kind of position, from whom you are asking something? Whom do you call your superiors? The moment you regard somebody as superior, do you not regard others as inferior? Why do we have this division, the superior and the inferior? That exists only when we want something. I may be less intelligent than you, I may not have as much as you have, I may not be as happy inwardly as you are, or I am asking something from you; so, I feel inferior to you. You may be more intelligent, you may be more clever, you may have a gift, a capacity, and I might not have it. But when I am trying to imitate, when I want something from you, I immediately become your inferior, because I have put you on a pedestal, I have given you a certain value. So, I create the superior and I create the inferior; psychologically, inwardly, I create this difference of those who have and those who have not. Is it possible to bring about a world in which the haves and have nots do not exist? You understand the problem? That is, the world is divided into those who are rich, who are powerful, who have everything, position, prestige, and those who have not. In the world, there is enormous inequality of capacity - the man who invents the jet plane and the man who drives the plough. There is vast contrast in capacity - intellectual, verbal, physical. We give enormous values and significance to certain functions. We consider the governor, the Prime Minister, the inventor, the scientist, as something enormously significant. We have given function great importance, and so function assumes status and position. So long as we give status to functions, that gives rise to such inequality that the difference between those that are incapable and those that are capable becomes unbridgeable. But if we can keep function stripped of status which gives position, prestige, power, money, wealth and pleasure, then there is the possibility of bringing about a sense of equality. Even then, equality is not possible if there is no love. It is love that destroys the sense of the unequal, of the superior. You see, what is happening in the world is this: politicians, economists see this breach, this gulf between the man of capacities and the man who has no capacities; and they try to approach this problem through economic and social reformation; they may be right but that approach can never take place as long as we have not love, as long as we do not understand the whole process of antagonism, envy, malice. That can only come to an end when there is love in our heart. Question: Can there be peace in our life when, every moment, we are struggling against our environment? Krishnamurti: What do we call environment and what is environment? We say environment is society - the economic, the religious, the national, the class environment, the climate. We are struggling either to fit into it or to move away from it. Most of us are struggling to fit, to adjust ourselves, as individuals into the environment. From the environment we hope to have a job, we hope to be able to accept all the benefits of that particular society; so, we are struggling to fit or to adjust ourselves into that society. What is that society made up of? Have you ever thought about it? Have you looked at the society in which you are living, to which you are trying to adjust yourselves? That society is based on what you call religion, is it not?, a set of traditions, certain economic values; you are part of that society and you are trying to live with it. Can you live with a society which is based on acquisitiveness, which is the outcome of envy, fear, greed, possessive pursuits with occasional flashes of love? Can you? If you try to be intelligent, fearless, non-acquisitive, can you adjust yourself with that society? So why struggle with that society? You have to create your own new society - which means, you have to be free from acquisitiveness, from envy, from greed, from any religious narrowing down of thought, from nationalism, from patriotism; then only is it possible for you not to struggle but to create something anew, a new society. But as long as you are trying to adjust, trying to make an effort to adjust yourself to the present society, you are merely following a pattern created of envy, of prestige, of those beliefs which are corruptive. So, is it not important, while you are young, while you are in this place, to understand all these problems and to bring about a freedom in yourselves, so that you may create a new world, a new society, a new relationship between man and man? Surely that is the function of education. Question: Why do human beings suffer and why cannot one be free from certain types of suffering such as death, sorrow and disaster? Krishnamurti: Why do we suffer and is it possible to be free from death and disaster? Medical science is trying to free humanity from diseases, through sanitation through clean living and clean food. Through various forms of surgery, they are trying to find a cure for incurable diseases like cancer. A capable efficient doctor does relieve, does try to eliminate diseases. Is death conquerable? It is a most extraordinary thing that you are so much interested in death. Is it because you see so much death about you, the burning ghats, the body being carried to the river? Why are you so preoccupied with it? You know, a man who has no urge, no creative thing in him, suffers; he is concerned with that, his concern is about his suffering. So, similarly, you are concerned with death, because you are so familiar with it. It is so constantly with you, and there is fear of death. I explained this question the other day. You do not listen. I can answer it in a different way. But if you do not listen if you do not really find out, if you do not really understand what the implications of death are, you will go from one preacher to another preacher, from one hope to another hope, from one belief to another, trying to find a solution to this problem of death. Do you understand? I answered it last week; and if you are interested, read what we have discussed when printed on paper. Read it; do not keep on asking but try to find out. You can ask innumerable questions; that is the shadow characteristic of a petty mind, to always question but never try to find out and discover. You see, death is possible only when we cling to life. When you understand the whole process of living and dying, then there is the possibility of understanding the significance of death. Death is merely the extinction of continuity and the fear of not being able to continue. But, you see, that which continues can never be creative. It is only that which can come to an end voluntarily, that is creative. You think it out. You will find for yourself what is true, and it is truth that liberates you from death, not your mere reading, not your believing in reincarnation. Discover for yourself by understanding the whole process of life; then you will find there is nothing beyond that, which is perishable. December 29, 1952 RAJGHAT 18TH TALK TO BOYS AND GIRLS 30TH DECEMBER 1952 Fortunately, while one is quite young, the main conflicts of life, the worries, the passing joys, the physical disasters, death and the mental twists do not affect us. Fortunately, most of us, while we are young, are out of the battlefield of life; but as we grow older, the pains, the disasters, the questionings, the doubts, the economic and inward struggles, crowd in on us, and we want to find the significance of life, we want to know what it is all about. We are not easily satisfied by economic explanations or by any particular definitions. We want to know all about the struggles, the pains, the poverty, the disasters; why some are well placed and others are not; why one is a healthy intelligent human being, gifted, capable, while another is not. We want to know why; and we soon are caught in a hypothesis, in a theory, in a belief, because we must find an answer. It is never the true answer; but, we invent it, we have a theory, a belief about it. So, we start out with an enquiry; and not having enough self-reliance, vigour, intelligence and innocence, we are soon caught in theories, in beliefs. We realize that life is ugly, painful, sorrowful; we want some kind of theory, some kind of speculation or satisfaction, some kind of doctrine, which will explain all this; and so we are caught in explanation, in words, in theories; and gradually, beliefs become deeply rooted and unshakable; because, behind those beliefs, behind those dogmas, there is the constant fear of the unknown. But we never look at that fear; we turn away from it. The stronger the beliefs, the stronger the dogmas. And when we examine these beliefs - the Christian, the Hindu, the Buddhist - we find that they divide people. Each dogma, each belief has a series of rituals, a series of compulsions which bind man and separate man. So, we start with an enquiry to find out what is true, what the significance is of this misery, this struggle, this pain; and we are soon caught up in beliefs, in rituals, in theories. We have not the self-reliance nor the vigour nor the innocence to push all aside and enquire. So, belief begins to act as a deteriorating factor. Belief is corruption because, behind belief and morality, lurks `the mine', the self - the self growing big, powerful and strong. We consider belief in God, the belief in something, as religion. We consider that to believe is to be religious. You understand? If you do not believe, you will be considered an atheist, you will be condemned by society. One society will condemn those who believe in God, and another society will condemn those who do not. They are both the same. So, religion becomes a matter of belief; and belief acts, and has a corresponding influence on the mind; the mind then can never be free. But it is only in freedom that you can find out what is true, what is God, not through any belief; because your very belief projects what you think ought to be God, what you think ought to be true. You understand? If you believe God is love, God is good, God is this or that, that very belief prevents you from understanding what is God, what is true. But, you see, you want to forget yourselves; you want to sacrifice yourselves; you want to emulate, to abandon this constant struggle that is going on within you; you want to pursue virtue. There is constant struggle, there is pain, there is suffering, there is ambition; in all that, there is constant pain and transient pleasure, pleasure that comes and goes; but your mind wants something enormous to cling to, something beyond itself, something with which you can identify yourself. So, that thing which it wants beyond itself, it calls God, it calls truth; and so, it identifies itself with it through belief, through convictions, through rationalization, through various forms of discipline and moralities. But this identifying - that is, the recognition of the thought as something vast, which the mind invents and which creates speculation - is still part of `the me', is still part of the struggle, is still projected by the mind in its desire to escape from the turmoils of life. You identify yourself with a country - India or England or Germany or Russia or America - you identify yourself as a Hindu. Why? Have you ever looked at it, gone behind the meaning of the word, behind the words that have captured your mind? Why do you identify yourself with India? Because you are living in a small town, leading a miserable life, with your struggles, with your family quarrels; because you are dissatisfied, discontented, miserable; you want to identify yourself with a thing called India. This gives you a sense of vastness, a bigness, a psychological satisfaction; so you say, 'I am an Indian'. and for this, you are willing to die, to kill and to be maimed. In the same way because you are very small, because you are in constant battle with yourself, because you are confused, miserable, uncertain, because you search and know there is death, you want to identify yourself with something beyond, something vast, significant, full of meaning, which you call God. So, you say that is God, and you identify yourself with that; this gives you an enormous importance and significance, and you feel happy. So with the identifying process comes the self-expansive process, that is still `the me', that is still the self, struggling. So, religion as we generally know it or acknowledge it, is a series of beliefs, of dogmas, of rituals, of superstitions, of worship of idols, of charms and gurus that will lead you to what you want as an ultimate goal. The ultimate truth is your projection, that is what you want, which will make you happy, which will give a certainty of the deathless state. So, the mind caught in all this creates a religion, a religion of dogmas, of priest-craft, of superstitions and idol worship; and in that, you are caught; and the mind stagnates. Is that religion? Is religion a matter of belief, a matter of knowledge of other people's experiences and assertions? Or is religion merely the following of morality? You know it is comparatively easy to be moral - to do this and not to do that. Because it is easy, you can imitate a moral system. Behind that morality, lurks the self, growing, expanding, aggressive, dominating. But is that religion? You have to find out what truth is, because that is the only thing that matters, not whether you are rich or poor, not whether you are happily married and have children, because they all come to an end, there is always death. So, without any form of belief, you must find out; you must have the vigour, the self-reliance, the initiative, so that for yourself you know what truth is, what God is. Belief will not give you anything; belief only corrupts, binds, darkens. The mind can only be free through vigour, through self-reliance. Surely, it is the function of education, specially here, to create such individuals as are not bound by any form of belief, of morality, of respectability. For, behind it lurks `the me' that is so important and that seeks to become respectable. Surely, it is the function of an educational centre of this kind to make individuals truly religious - that is, the religion of discovery, of direct experiencing of what God is, what truth is. That experiencing is not possible, is never possible, through any form of belief, of rituals, of following another, of worshipping another. That religion is free from all gurus. You, as an individual, can, as you grow through life, discover the truth from moment to moment; you are capable of being free. You think that to be free from the material things of the world is the first step towards religion. It is not. That is one of the easiest things to do. The first thing is to be free to think fully, completely and independently, not to be crushed by any belief, by circumstances, by environment, so that you are an integrated human being, capable, vigorous, self-reliant; so that your mind being free, unbiased, unconditioned, can find out what God is, what truth is. Surely, it is for that purpose that this centre exists, to help each individual that comes here to be free to discover reality, not to follow any system nor any belief nor any ritual, nor any guru; the individual has to awaken his intelligence through freedom, not through any form of discipline - which means, resistance, compulsion, coercion - so that through that intelligence, through that freedom, the individual can find out that which is beyond the mind. Because, it is only when directly experienced that the immensity of the thing will be known - the thing that is not nameable, the thing that is not measurable by words, that is limitless, in which there is that love which is not of the mind. The mind cannot conceive all that; and as it cannot conceive it, the mind must be very quiet, astonishingly still, without any demand or any desire. Then only is it possible for that extraordinary thing, what we call God or reality to come into being. Question: What is obedience? Is it at all possible to obey without understanding the order? Krishnamurti: Is it possible to obey the order without understanding the order? Is it not what most of us do? Parents, teachers, the older people say `do this'. They say it either politely or with a stick, and we are afraid and obey. That is what Governments do. That is what the military people do, We are trained from childhood not knowing what it is all about. The more tyrannical the Government, the more totalitarian, the more authoritarian, the more we are compelled, shaped from childhood; not knowing why, we should obey. We are told what to think. Our mind is purged of any thought which is not of the State, of the authority. We are never taught or helped to find out how to think, but we must obey. The priest says so, the religious book says so; our own fear inwardly compels us to obey; because, if we do not obey, we will be lost, we will be confused. So, we obey. Why do we obey? Do you understand? The social structure, the religious State, forces us to blindly follow the pattern created by another, in the hope of some reward or happiness. Why do we obey? Must we obey? We are very thoughtless. To think is very painful; to think, we have to question; we have to enquire; we have to find out how the older people do not want us to find out that they have not the patience, that they are too busy with their quarrels, with their ambitions, with their prejudices, with their do's and don't's of morality and respectability. So, the older people have not the patience; and we are young; we are afraid to go wrong because we also want to be respectable. Don't we all want to put on the same uniform, to look alike? We do not want to do anything different. To think separately, to be apart, is very painful; so, we join the gang. Why do we do all this - obey, follow, copy? Why? Because, we are frightened inwardly to be uncertain. We want to be certain - we want to be certain financially, we want to be certain morally - we want to be approved, we want to be in a safe position, we want never to be confronted with trouble, pain, suffering, we want to be enclosed. So, fear, consciously or unconsciously, makes us obey the master, the leader, the priest, the Government. Fear also controls us from doing something which may be harmful to others, because we will be punished. So behind all these actions, greeds, pursuits, lurks this desire for certainty, this desire to be assured. So, without resolving fear, without being free from fear, merely to obey or to be obeyed has little significance; what has meaning is: to understand this fear from day to day and how fear shows itself in different ways. It is only when there is freedom from fear, that there is that inward quality of understanding, that aloneness in which there is no accumulation of knowledge or of experience; and it is that alone which gives extraordinary clarity in the pursuit of the real. December 30, 1952 RAJGHAT 19TH TALK TO BOYS AND GIRLS 31ST DECEMBER 1952 As we grow older and go out of this institution after receiving education, so-called education, we have to face many problems. What profession are we to choose, so that in that profession, we can fulfil ourselves, we can be happy; so that in that profession or vocation or job, we are satisfied and are not exploiting others, we are not being cruel to others? We have to face death, suffering, disasters. We have to understand starvation, overpopulation, sex, pain, pleasure, the many confusing and conflicting and contradictory things in life, the wrangles, the conflicts between man and man or between woman and man, the conflicts within, the struggles within and the struggles without, wars, the military spirit, ambition and that extraordinary thing called peace which is much more vital than we realize. We have to understand the significance of religion; not the mere worship of images nor the mere speculations which, we think, give us the right to assume the religious feeling, but also that very complex and strange thing called love. We have to understand all this, and not merely be educated to pass examinations; we have to know the beauty of life; to watch a bird in flight; to see the beggars, the disasters, the squalor, the hideous buildings that people put up, the foul road, the still fouler temples; we have to face all these problems. We have also to face whom to follow, whom not to follow, and whether we should follow anybody at all. Most of us are concerned with doing a little bit of change here and there, and we are satisfied with that. As we grow older, we do not want any deep fundamental change, because we are afraid. We do not think in terms of transformation, we only think in terms of change; and you will find, when you look into that change, that it is only a modified change which is not a radical revolution, not a transformation. You have to face all these things, from your own happiness to the happiness of the many, from your own self-seeking pursuits and ambitions to the ambitions and the motives and the pursuits of others; you have to face competition, the corruption in oneself and in others, the deterioration of the mind, the emptiness of the heart. You have to know all this, you have to face all this: but you are not pre- pared for it. What do we know when we go out from here? We are as dull, empty, shallow as when we came here; and our studies, our living in school, our contacts with our teachers and their contact with us have not helped us to understand this very very complex problem of life. The teachers are dull, and we become dull like them. They are afraid and we are afraid. So, it is our problem, it is your problem as well as the teachers' problem, to see that you go out with maturity, with thought, without fear, so that you will be able to face life intelligently. So, it appears very important to find an answer to all these problems; but there is no answer. All you can do is to meet these very complex problems intelligently as they arise. Please follow this. Please understand this. You want an answer. You think that, by reading, by following somebody, by studying some book, you will find an answer to all these very complex and very subtle problems. But you will not find answers, because these problems have been created by human beings who may have been like you. The starvation, the cruelty, the hideousness, the squalor, the appalling callousness, the cruelty, all this has been created by human beings. So, you have to understand the human heart, the human mind, which is yourself. Merely to look for an answer in a book, or to go to a school to find out, or to follow an economic system however much it may promise, or to follow some religious absurdity and superstition, to follow a guru, to do puja, in no way will help you to understand these problems, because they are created by you and others like you. As they are created by you, you cannot understand them without understanding yourself; and to understand yourself as you live, from moment to moment, from day to day, year in and year out, you need intelligence, a great deal of insight, love, patience. So, you must find out surely what is intelligence, must you not? You all use that word very freely; and by repetition of that word, you think you become intelligent. The politicians keep on repeating certain words like `integration', `a new culture', `you must be intelligent', `you must create a new world; but they are all empty words without much meaning. So do not use words without really understanding them. We are trying to find out what intelligence is; because, if we know what it is and if we can have the feeling of it -not merely a definition of it, because any dictionary will give that -the knowing of it, the understanding of it, it will help each one of us, as we grow, to meet the enormous problems in our life; if we have it, then we shall find out how to deal with these problems. Without that intelligence, do what you will - read, study, accumulate knowledge, fight, quarrel, change, bring about little changes here and there in the pattern of society - you will never alter, there will be no transformation, there will be no happiness. So, is it not necessary to question what it is we mean by intelligence? What is intelligence, not the definition of the word, but what does it mean? I am going to find out what it means; and perhaps, for some of you, it is going to be difficult; but do not bother with trying to understand it, with trying to follow the words; but try to feel what I am talking about. Try to feel the thing, the quality of it; and then you will, as you grow older, begin to see the significance of what I have been saying. So, listen not to the word, but rather to the inward content of that word. Most of us think that intelligence can be gathered or cultivated through acquiring more knowledge, more information, more experience, by having knowledge to utilize that knowledge, by having experience to meet life with that experience. But life is an extraordinary thing, it is never stationary; it is like a river, a lively thing that moves, that is never still. We think that, by having more experience, more knowledge, more virtue, more wealth, more possessions, more and more, we shall find out what intelligence is. This is why we respect people who have knowledge, the scholars, the people who have had rich full experiences. Is intelligence the outcome of `the more'? What is this process of `the more' - having more, wanting more? What is behind it? We are concerned, are we not?, with accumulating; and so we say, `If I know, I shall be able to meet life', `If I can understand what the purpose of life is, then I can follow along that path', `If I have more experience, then I shall meet the very complex problems of life'. So, we are very concerned, from childhood up to old age, with the problems of the more, having more, more and more. Now, what happens when you have accumulated knowledge, experience, position? Whatever experience you may have, it is translated into the terms of the more so that you are never experiencing, you are always gathering; and this gathering is the process of the mind. The mind is the centre of this `more'. So, as it gathers, there is the more and more accumulating; and the more is the me, the self, the ego, the self-enclosed entity, which is only concerned with the more, either negatively or positively. So, with that mind, with the accumulated experience of the more, it meets life. So, in meeting life in which there is experience, it is only concerned with the more and so it never experiences, it only gathers; so the mind becomes merely the instrument of gathering, there is no real experiencing. How can you experience when you are thinking always of getting something out of that experience, something more? So, the man who is accumulating, the man who is gathering, the man who is desiring more, is never experiencing life. It is only when the mind is not concerned with the more, with the accumulating, that there is a possibility for that mind to be intelligent. When the mind is concerned with the more, every experience strengthens that self which is self-enclosing, `the me' which is the centre of all conflict; every experience only strengthens the egocentric process of life. Please follow this. You think experience is the freeing process. But it is not; for, as long as the mind is concerned with accumulation, with the more, the more experiences you have, the more strengthened you are in your egotism, in your selfishness, in your self-enclosing process of thought. Intelligence is only possible when there is really freedom from the self, from the me, when the mind is not the centre of the demand for the more, the centre of the longing for greater, wider, more expansive regions of thought. So, intelligence is, is it not?, the freedom from the pressure of time; for `the more' implies time, the mind is the result of time. So, the cultivation of the mind is not intelligence. The understanding of this whole process of the mind is self-knowledge, to know oneself as one is, in which there is no accumulating centre. Then, out of that comes that intelligence which can meet life; and that intelligence is creative. Look at your lives; how dull, how stupid, how narrow and silly they are because you are not creative! You may have children, but that is not to be creative. You may be a bureaucrat but that is not to be creative; in it there is no vitality, it is dead routine, a boredom. Your life is hedged about by fear; and so there is authority and imitation; so, you do not know what it is to be creative - I do not mean to paint pictures, to write poems or to be able to sing a song; but I mean the deeper nature of creativeness which, when once it has been discovered, is an eternal source, an undying current - and it can only be found through intelligence, because that is the source, that is the timeless thing. But the mind cannot find it; for, the mind is the centre of `the me', the self, the constant thoughts everlastingly asking for the more. When you understand all this, not only verbally but deep down, then you will find that with that intelligence there comes that creativeness which is reality, which is God, which is not to be speculated about or meditated upon. You won't get it through your meditation, through prayer for the more, or by the escape from the more. That thing can only come when you understand, from moment to moment every day, the complex reactions, the state of mind as you meet malice, envy. Knowing all that, there comes that thing which we call love; that love is intelligence; and with that intelligence there comes that creative state which is timeless. Question: The formation of society is based on interdependence. The doctor has to depend on the farmer and the farmer on the doctor. Then, how can a man be completely independent? Krishnamurti: Life is relationship. You cannot live without having some kind of relationship. Even the sannyasi has relationship; he may renounce the world, but he is still related to the world. So life is the process of relationship. You cannot escape from relationship; and because relationship causes conflict, because in relationship there is fear, you depend either on the husband or on the parent or on the wife or on society. As long as we do not understand relationship - you understand what I mean by relationship; not only the relationship of the parent to the child, but the relationship of the teacher, the cook, the servant, the governor, the commander, the whole of society, which after all is the extension of the relationship of the one with the other - as long as we do not understand that relationship, there is no freedom from the dependency which is brought about through fear, through exploitation. Freedom comes only through intelligence, and only intelligence can meet relationship. Without intelligence, merely to seek freedom or independence from relationship is to pursue an illusion which has no meaning. So, what is important is to understand relationship which causes conflict, misery, pain, fear. It is in exposing a great many things of the heart, of the mind, of loneliness, that there is understanding; and as we understand, there is freedom, not from relationship but from the conflicts that cause misery. Question: Why is truth unpalatable? Krishnamurti: If I think I am very beautiful and you tell me I am not, which may be a fact, do I like it? If I think I am very intelligent, very clever and you point out that I am rather a silly person, do I like it? It is very unpalatable to me; but you are pointing out, because it gives you pleasure, does it not? Your pointing out my stupidity gives you a sense of pleasure, a sense of vanity; it shows how clever you are. You take pleasure in pointing out my stupidity; but when it concerns your own stupidity, you do not want to find out what you are, you want to run away from yourself, you want to hide, you want to cover your own emptiness, your own loneliness, your own stupidity. So, you have friends who will never tell you what you are. You want to show to others what you are not; but, if others point out your mistake and show you what you are, you do not like it. So, you avoid knowing that which exposes your own inner nature. Question: Up to now, our teachers have been very certain and have taught us as usual. But having listened to what has been said, following all the discussions, the teachers have become very uncertain. An intelligent student will know how to deal with the problem; but what will happen to those who are not intelligent? Krishnamurti: Who are the teachers that are uncertain? What are they uncertain about? Not what to teach, because they can carry on with what they teach, with mathematics, with geography, the usual curriculum. That is not what they are uncertain about, are they? They are uncertain how to deal with the student, their relationship with the student. Is it not? They are uncertain of their relationship; because, up to now, they were never concerned with the student, they just came to the class, taught and went out. Now, they are concerned about their relationship with the student, whether they are creating fear, whether they are exercising their authority to make the student obey, and so destroying his initiative. They are concerned whether they are repressing the student, or whether they are helping him to find out his true vocation, or whether they are encouraging initiative, or whether they are compelling him to obey. They are concerned with themselves and with their relationships with students. Naturally, it has made them uncertain. But surely, the teacher, like the student, has also to be uncertain, to enquire, to search. That is the whole process of life from the beginning to the end, is it not? - never to stop in a certain place and say, `I know it is so'. An intelligent man is never static, never says `I know'. He is always enquiring, always uncertain, always searching, looking, finding. The moment he says, `I know', he is already dead; and most of us, whether we are young or old, because of tradition or compulsion or the absurdities of our religion, or fear, or bureaucracy, are almost dead, with no vitality, with no vigour, with no self-reliance. So, the teacher has also to find out. He has to discover for himself his own bureaucratic tendencies so as not to corrupt the mind of others; and that is a very difficult process; that requires a great deal of understanding. So, the intelligent student has to help the teacher, and the teacher has to help the student. That is relationship. What happens to the dull boy or girl who is not very intelligent? Surely no boy or girl is so dull as not to be able to feel, not to be able to understand this difficulty; because, when the teacher is uncertain, he is more tolerant, he is more hesitant with the dull boy, he is more patient, more affectionate; and therefore perhaps he may be able to help. Question: The farmer has to depend on the doctor for the cure of physical pain. Is this also governed by dependent action. Krishnamurti: In it there is an element of fear. As I have explained already, it is a problem of relationship. If my relationship with you is based on fear, I depend on you economically, socially or psychologically. Inwardly, as long as fear exists, there is no independence; and the problem of freeing the mind from fear is quite a complex problem which we have discussed. You see, what is important in all these questions and answers is not what one says or answers, but to find out in oneself the truth of the matter by constant enquiry, searching, looking, by not being caught in any particular system; because, it is the searching that creates initiative, that brings about intelligence. But to be merely satisfied by an answer dulls the mind. So, it is very important for you, while you are at this school, not to accept but to constantly enquire, to apprehend, to discover freely for yourself the whole meaning of life. December 31, 1952 - Banaras 1954, Rajghat School - 1st Talk To Students 2nd Talk To Students 3rd Talk To Students 4th Talk To Students 5th Talk To Students 6th Talk To Students 7th Talk To Students 8th Talk To Students 9th Talk To Students 10th Talk To Students 11th Talk To Students 12th Talk To Students 13th Talk To Students 14th Talk To Students 15th Talk To Students - Banaras 1954, Hindu University - 1st Talk 2nd Talk 3rd Talk - Bombay 1954 - 1st Public Talk 2nd Public Talk 3rd Public Talk 4th Public Talk 5th Public Talk 6th Public Talk 7th Public Talk 8th Public Talk New York 1954 - 1st Public Talk 2nd Public Talk 3rd Public Talk 4th Public Talk 5th Public Talk 6th Public Talk Madras 1954 - 1st Public Talk 2nd Public Talk Banaras 1955 - 1st Public Talk 2nd Public Talk 3rd Public Talk 4th Public Talk 5th Public Talk Talk To Parents Bombay 1955 - 1st Public Talk 2nd Public Talk 3rd Public Talk 4th Public Talk 5th Public Talk 6th Public Talk 7th Public Talk 8th Public Talk BANARAS, INDIA 4TH JANUARY 1954 1ST TALK TO STUDENTS AT RAJGHAT SCHOOL I suppose most of you understand English. Don't you? It does not matter if you do not, as your teachers and your elders understand English. Perhaps you would ask them afterwards to explain what I have been talking about make a point of asking them won't you? Because what we are going to discuss for the next three or four weeks is very important; we are going to discuss what is education and what are its implications, not just passing examination but the whole implication of being educated. So, as we are going to talk about that every day please ask your teachers, if you do not understand what I am saying now, to explain carefully what we have talked. Also, after I have talked, perhaps you would ask questions. Because these talks are meant primarily for students and if the older people want to ask questions, they can only ask questions that will help the students to understand, that explain further the problem. If the older people would ask questions so as to help students, then their questions will be useful. To ask questions with their own personal problems will not help the students. Don't you ask yourself why you are being educated? Do you know why you are being educated, and what does that education mean? As we know, education is to go to schools, learn how to read and write, to pass examinations and to play a few games; and after you leave the school, you go to the college, there again study very very hard for a few months or a few years, pass an examination and then get a job; and then, you forget all about what you have learnt. Is it not that, what we call education? Do you understand what I am talking about? Is it all that we do? If you are girls you pass a few examinations, B.A. or M.A., marry and become cooks or something else and then have children; and all the education that you have got for a number of years is useless. You know how to speak English, you are a little bit more clever, a little bit more tidy, a little bit more clean, that is all, is it not? And the boys get a technical job, or become clerks, or get some kind of governmental job, and that finishes, does it not? You see what we call living is to get a job, to have children, raise a family and to know how to read and write and to be able to read newspapers or magazines, to discuss, to cleverly argue about something or other. That is what we call education, is it not? Have you noticed your own parents, your own elder people? They have passed examinations, they have got some jobs and they know how to read and write. Is it all what we call education? Education is something much more different, is it not? It is to help you not only to get a job in the world but also how to meet the world. Is it not? You know what the world is. In the world, there is competition. You know what competition means - each man out for himself, struggling to get the best pushing the others aside. In the world, there are wars, there are class divisions and the fight between them. In the world, every man is trying to get a better job, to keep on rising; if you are a clerk, you try to get a little higher and so fight all the time. Have you not noticed it? If you have a car, you want a bigger So, there is that constant fight going on, not only within ourselves but with all our neighbours. Then there is the war that kills, which destroys people, like the last war millions were killed, wounded or maimed. Our life is all this political struggle. And also, life is religion is it not? What we call religion is rituals going to temples, putting on something like the sacred thread, mumbling some words, or following some guru. Life is also, is it not?, the fear of dying, fear of living, fear of what people say and do not say, fear of not knowing where one is going fear of losing a job, fear of opinion. So, life is something extraordinarily complex, is it not? You know what that word `complex' means? Very intricate, it is not just simple which you just follow; it is very very difficult, many many things are involved. So, education is, is it not?, to enable you to meet all these problems. You have to be educated so as to meet all these problems rightly. That is what education is - not merely to pass a few examinations, some silly studies, some subjects in which you are not at all interested. Proper education is to help the student to meet this life, so that he understands it, he won't succumb, he won't be crushed under it as most of us are. People, ideas, country, climate, food, public opinion - all that is constantly squeezing you, constantly pushing you in a particular direction in which the society wants you to go. Your education must enable you to understand this pressure, not to yield to it but to understand it and to break through it, so that you, as an individual, as a human being are capable of a great deal of initiative, and not merely traditional thinking. That is real education. You know that, for most of us, education consists in what to think. You know you are told what to think. Your society tells you your parents tell you, your neighbours tell you, your books tell you, your teachers tell you what to think. The machinery of what to think we call education, and that education only makes you mechanical, dull, stupid, uncreative. But if you know how to think, not what to think, then you would not be mechanical, traditional but be live human beings; you may be great revolutionaries - not in the stupid sense of murdering people to get a better job or to push through a certain idea - with the revolution of how to think rightly. That is very important. But, when we are at school, we never do all these things. The teachers themselves do not know. They only teach you how to read or what to read, and correct your English or Mathematics. That is all their concern and, at the end of five or ten years, you are pushed out into this life about which you know nothing. Nobody has talked to you about it; or, if they have talked, they push you in certain directions - either you are a socialist, a communist, a congressist or some other - but they never teach you or help you to understand and how to think out all these problems, not just at one moment during a certain number of years, but all the time - which is education, is it not? After all, in a school of this kind that is what we must do, help you not merely to pass some beastly examinations, but how to meet life when you go out of this place, so that you are intelligent human beings, not mechanical, not Hindus or Mussalmans or communists or some such thing. It is very important how you are educated, how you think. Most of the teachers do not think; they want a job, they get a job and settle down because they have families, they have worries, they have fathers and mothers who tell them `you must follow certain rituals, you must do this, you must do that'. They have their own problems, their own difficulties; they leave all those at home, come to the school and teach a few lessons; they do not know how to think, and we do not know how to think. In a school of this kind, surely, it is very important for you, for the teachers, for all of us who are living here, to consider all the problems of life, to discuss, to find out, to investigate, to enquire, so that your mind becomes so very alert that you do not just follow somebody. You understand what I am talking about? Is not all that education? Education is not just till the age of 21, but till you die. Life is like a river, it is never still, it is always moving, always alive and rich. When we think we have understood a part of a river and hold to that part, it is only dead water, is it not? Because, the river goes by. To watch all the movement of the river, all the things that are happening on the river, to understand, to be faced with it, that is life; and we all have to prepare for it. So, is not education really not merely passing a few examinations but being able to think of all these problems, so that your mind is not mechanical, traditional, so that your mind is creative so that you do not merely fit into society, but you break it, create anew out of it - not a new thing according to the socialist, the communist or the congressist, but a completely new thing - that is real revolution. And after all, that is the meaning of education, is it not?, so that you grow in freedom, so that you can create a new world. The old people have not created a beautiful world; they have made a mess of the world. Is it not the function of education, of the educator, to see that you grow in freedom, so that you can understand life, so that you can change things and not just grow dull, weary and die as most people do? So, I feel and most of us do feel who are serious about these things, that a place like this Rajghat should provide an atmosphere, should be a place in which you are given every opportunity to grow, uninfluenced, unconditioned, untaught, so that when you go out of this place, you can meet life intelligently, without fear. Otherwise, this place has no value; it will be like any rotten school, perhaps a little better, because it happens to be a beautiful place, people are a little more kind, they do not beat you, they may coerce you in other ways. We should create a school where the student is not pressed, is not enclosed, is not squeezed by our ideas, by our stupidity, by our fears, so that as he grows, he will understand his own affairs, he will be able to meet life intelligently. You know what all this requires - not only an intelligent student, a student who is alive, but also an educator, the right kind of educator. There are not the right kind of educators and the right kind of students: they are not born, we must struggle, discuss, push till the thing comes about. You know, to grow a beautiful rose, you require a great deal of care, don't you? To write a poem, you must have the feeling, you must have the words to put it in. All that requires care, considerable watching. So, is it not very important that this place should be such a place? If it is not such a place. it is nobody's fault but yours and the teachers'. Do not say `The teachers do not do this'. It is the teachers' fault if they do not create this place. Nobody else is going to create it. Others are not going to create it; you and I and the teachers are going to create it. That is real revolution to have the feeling that it is our school which you and I and the teachers and all of us are building together. So, it is very important, is it not?, to understand what we mean by education - not ideals of education; there are no such ideals; they are all nonsense. We must begin as we are, understand things as we are and, out of that, build. You do not have an ideal garden or school; you build the soil, you take it as it is, manure it, water it and then create something out of nothing. As there is nothing, you will have to create, to build together. Is it not very important for each one of us to know how to think rightly, not what to think, not what the book says, but how to think? That is what I would like to discuss with you for the next three or four weeks, namely how to think, so that you and I at the end of it will have our minds very clear and with that clarity, with that thinking, with that capacity, we can then go out and meet life. May I ask you the question, `What do you want to do when you leave school and when you have been to college'? Do you know what you want to do? Don't you want jobs, is not you primary concern to get a job? You have all become dumb. It is the first day and you are a bit shy. It will be all right in a couple of days. Please do not keep your shyness too long, we shall only be here for a few weeks. Question: What is intelligence? Krishnamurti: What do you think is intelligence? Not what the dictionary says, not what your teacher or your book has sad - leave all that aside and think and try to find out what is intelligence. Not what Buddha, Sankara, Shakespeare, Tennyson or Spencer or somebody else has said, but what do you think is intelligence? Do you see that the moment you are ask not to think along those lines, you are stunned? Take a man who reads Sankara or the communist philosophy or some other authority; he will tell you what intelligence is right off because, he will quote somebody. But if you ask not to quote, not to repeat what somebody else thinks, not merely to read from a dictionary what intelligence is, you are lost, are you not? Do you know what intelligence is? What do you think is intelligence? It is a very complex problem, is it not? It is very difficult in a few words to say what intelligence is. So, you begin to find out what is intelligence. The person who is afraid of public opinion, afraid of the teacher, afraid of what people say, afraid of losing his job, afraid of not passing an examination, is not an intelligent person; the mind that is afraid is not an intelligent mind, is it? What do you say? Is that very difficult? If I am afraid of my parents, that they might scold me, that they might do this and that, am I intelligent? I behave, I act, I think according to them; because, I am afraid to think freely, to think independently, to act what I think. So, fear prevents me does it not?, from being what I am. I may be a most stupid person; fear prevents me from being what I am. I am always copying, I am always following, trying to do things which other people want me to do, because I am afraid. So, a mind which is imitative, which is copying, because it is afraid, is not an intelligent mind, is it? What do you say? Is it not the function of education to help the student to understand these fears, to show how you are frightened of your teacher, of your parents so that you may say `As I am frightened, I will do what I like' - which is equally stupid? Education should help us to understand these fears and to be free from these fears. It is very difficult. It requires a great deal of digging, understanding, going into it. You know what to `to thaw' means. You know it freezes when the weather is very cold; and when the sunshine comes out, it begins to melt. This morning, we all feel frozen because we do not know each other. You are a little bit nervous because you may ask something which you may be ashamed of, you may ask something which the teachers may say you should not have asked, or you are frightened of your fellow students. All that is preventing you from thawing, from feeling natural, spontaneous easy, so that you can ask. I am sure you have got lots of questions bubbling inside, but you dare not ask, because you are a bit apprehensive the first morning. Perhaps tomorrow the sun will have thawed and we can ask each other questions. January, 4, 1954. BANARAS, INDIA 5TH JANUARY 1954 2ND TALK TO STUDENTS AT RAJGHAT SCHOOL I would like to talk this morning on a topic which may be rather difficult, but we will try and make it as simple and direct as possible. You know most of us have some kind of fear, have we not? Do you know your particular fear? You might be a&aid of your teacher, of your guardian, of your parents, of the older people, or of a snake, or a buffalo, or of what somebody says, or of death and so on. Each one has fear; but, for young people, the fears are fairly superficial. As we grow older, the fears become more complex, more difficult, more subtle. You know the words, `subtle', `complex' and `difficult', don't you? For example, I want to fulfil; I am not an old person, and I want to fulfil myself in a particular direction. You know what `fulfilment' means. Every word is difficult, is it not? I want to become a great writer. I feel if I could write, my life would be happy. So, I want to write. But something happens to me, I get paralysed and for the rest of my life I am frightened, I am frustrated, I feel I have not lived. So that becomes my fear. So, as we grow older, various forms of fear get come into being, fears of being left alone, not having a friend, being lonely, losing property, having no position, and other various types of fear. But we won't go now into the very difficult and subtle types of fear because they require much more thought. It is very important that we - you, young people, and I - should consider this question of fear, because society and the older people think fear is necessary to keep you in right behaviour. If you are afraid of your teacher or of your parents, they can control you better, can they not? They can say `Do this and do not do that' and you will have, jolly well, to obey them. So, fear is used as a moral pressure. The teachers use fear, say in a large class, as a means of controlling the students. Is it not so? Society says fear is necessary and, otherwise, the citizens, the people, will just outflow and do things wildly. Fear has thus become a necessity for the control of man. You know fear is also used to civilize man. Religions throughout the world have used fear as a means of controlling man. Have they not? They say that if you do not do certain things in this life, you will pay for it in the next life. Though all religions preach love, though they preach brotherhood, though they talk about the unity of man, they all subtly or very brutally, grossly, maintain this sense of fear. If you have a large class of students in one class, how can the teacher control you? He cannot. He has to invent ways and means of controlling you. So, he says `Compete. Become like that boy who is much cleverer than you'. So, you struggle, you are afraid. Your fear is generally used as a means of controlling you. Do you understand? Is it not very important that education should eradicate fear, should help the students to get rid of fear, because fear corrupts the mind? I think it is very important in a school of this kind that every form of fear should be understood and dispelled, got rid of. Otherwise, if you have any kind of fear, it twists your mind, and you can never be intelligent. Fear is like a dark cloud and, when you have fear, it is like walking in sunshine with a dark cloud in your mind, always frightened. So, is it not the function of education to be truly educated - that is, to understand fear and to be free of it? For instance, suppose you go off without telling your housemaster or teacher and you come back and invent stories saying that you have been with some people, while you have been to a cinema - which means, you are frightened. If you are not frightened of the teacher, you think you would do what you like and the teachers think the same. But to understand fear implies a great deal, much more than doing exactly what you want to do. You know there are natural reactions of the body, are there not? When you see a snake, you jump. That is not fear, because that is the natural reaction of the body. In front of danger, the body reacts; it jumps. When you see a precipice, you do not walk just blindly along. That is not fear. When you see a danger, or a car coming very fast, you sweep out of the way. It is not an indication of fear. Those are bodily responses to protect itself against danger; such reactions are not fear. Fear comes in, does it not?, when you want to do something and you are prevented from doing it. That is one type of fear. You want to go to a cinema you would like to go out of Benaras for the day and the teacher says `no'. There are regulations and you do not like these regulations. You like to go. So you go on some excuse and you come back. The teacher finds out that you have gone, and you are afraid of punishment. So, fear comes in, when there is a feeling that you are going to be punished. But if the teacher talks over smoothly why you should not go to town, explains to you the dangers, eating of food which is not clean and so on, you understand. Even if he has not the time to explain to you and go into the whole problem why you should not go, because you also think, your intelligence is awakened to find out why you should not go. Then, there is no problem, you do not go. If you want to go, you talk it over and find out. To do just what you like in order to show that you are free from fear, is not intelligence. Courage is not the opposite of fear. You know in the battlefields, they are very courageous. For various reasons they take drinks, or do all kinds of things to feel courageous; but that is not freedom from fear. We won't go into it, let us leave it at that. Should not education help the students to be free from fear of every kind - which means, from now on to understand all the problems of life, problems of sex, problems of death, of public opinion, of authority? I am going to discuss all these things, so that when you leave this place, though there are fears in the world, though you have your own ambitions, your own desires, you will understand and so be free from fear, because you know fear is very dangerous. All people are afraid of something or other. Most people do not want to make a mistake, do not want to go wrong, specially when they are young. So they think that if they could follow somebody, if they could listen to somebody, they will be told what to do and, by doing that, they would achieve an end, a purpose. Most of us are very conservative. You know what that word means, you know what it is `to conserve'? To hold, to guard. Most of us want to remain respectable and so we want to do the right thing, we want to follow the right conduct - which, if you go into it very deeply, you will see is an indication of fear. Why not make a mistake, why not find out? But the man who is afraid is always thinking `I must do the right thing, I must look respectable, I must not let the public think what I am or not'. Such a man is really, fundamentally, basically afraid. A man who is ambitious is really a frightened person, and a man who is frightened has no love, has no sympathy. It is like a person enclosed behind a wall, in a house. It is very important while we are young, to understand this thing to understand fear. It is fear that makes us obey, but if we can talk it over, reason together, discuss and think together, then I may understand it and do it; but to compel me to force me to do a thing which I do not understand because I am frightened of you, is wrong education. Is it not? So, I feel it is very important in a place like this that both the educator and the educated should understand this problem. Creativity, to be creative - you know what it means? To write a poem is partly creative, to paint a picture, to look at a tree, to love the tree, the river, the birds, the people, the earth, the feeling that the earth is ours - that is partly creative. But that feeling is destroyed when you have fear, when you say `this is mine, my country, my class, my group, my philosophy my religion.' When you have that kind of feeling, you are not creative; because, it is the instinct of fear that is dictating this feeling of `mine, my country'. After all, the earth is not yours or mine; it is ours. And if we can think in those terms, we will create quite a different world -not an American world or a Russian world or an Indian world, but it will be our world, yours and mine, the rich man's and the poor man's. But the difficulty is when there is fear, we do not create. A person who is afraid can never find truth or God. Behind all our worships all our images all our rituals there is fear and, therefore your gods are not gods, they are stones. So, it is very important while we are young, to understand this thing; and you can only understand it when you know that you are afraid, when you can look at your own fears. But that requires a great deal of insight which we want to discuss now. Because it is a much deeper problem which the older people can discuss, we will discuss that with the teachers. But it is the function of the educator to help the educated to understand fear. It is for the teachers to help you to understand your fears and not to suppress it, not to hold you down, so that when you leave this place, your mind is very clear, sharp, unspoiled by fear. As I was saying yesterday, the old people have not created a beautiful world, they are full of darkness, fear, corruption, competition; they have not created a good world. Perhaps if you going out of this place, out of Rajghat, can really be free from fear of every kind or understand how to meet fear in yourself and in others, then perhaps you will create quite a different world, not a world of the communist or of the congressist and so on, but a totally different world. Truly that is the function of education. Question: What is sorrow? Krishnamurti: A boy of ten asks what is sorrow? Do you know anything of sorrow? Do not bother who is asking. But a little boy asking what is sorrow is a sad thing, is it not?, it is a very terrible thing. Why should he know sorrow? It is the old people unfortunately who know sor- row. You as an elder person know sorrow. Do you know what sorrow means? When you see a beggar and a rich man going by when you see death, a body being burnt, when you see a dead bird, when you see somebody crying, when you see degradation, poverty, people quarrelling, hitting each other verbally and physically, all that is sorrow, is it not? When your father or mother dies, you are left alone and you have sorrow. But here we grow with death. You understand what I am saying that we grow with death? We are never happy human beings. You see a dead body being carried to the river and you are with your parents; and the parents say `Do not look, death is terrible'. So you begin. When you see a beggar - as a little boy, you cannot help seeing a beggar - with torn clothes, disease, wounds on his body and you feel so sorry for that man the parent or older people take you away without explaining. That is the calamity, a social misery, to have such people about. The parents are responsible as they do not explain all these things; they want to protect you, hide you from all that. They do not make you a revolutionary - which does not mean that you must become a silly communist; a revolutionary is some one very very different. They do not explain to you all these things. They are frightened and so they want to protect you. Sorrow is something that has to be understood, tears have to be understood. There is no understanding when you are happy. When you smile, you smile, that does not need explanation. But you see we are brought up, here as well as outside unfortunately, without knowing how to think, how to observe, how to watch; and so we increase sorrow and multiply our trouble. But if we know, if the education that we have and the teachers that we have can point out these things, discuss, talk over these things, we may not be just the ordinary, every day, stupid fathers or mothers or politicians or clerks but real human beings who are really revolutionary and out to create a new world. Then perhaps we can understand, change and put away sorrow. Question: What is the definition of the good world? Krishnamurti: You know as I said yesterday this meeting is primarily meant for students who want to find out, who want to discuss. The older people, if they are interested to help the students to understand the problem, would do well not to ask the questions about their own personal problems. Probably, children are not interested in what the definition of the good world is. Now, what is the mind that asks such a question? The mind says `what is the definition of a good world'? The statement is clear, you can look up a dictionary and there you will find a definition. We think that by finding a definition we have understood the problem. That is how we are trained, we think we understand when we have a definition. Definition is not understanding. On the contrary, it is the most destructive way of thinking. Why do you want to know the definition of the good world? Because you cannot think out the problem, you go to somebody - to Sankara, to Buddha, or to me or to some one else - and say `Please tell me the meaning of the good world'. If you can think it out, go into it, understand it, then perhaps you will have real enlightenment. What do we mean by `good world'? It is really very important to go into this. The word has a meaning, has it not? it has a referencer it has an extraordinary meaning. A word like `God' or `love' or `sacrifice' or a word like `India' has great significance. Because you think you believe in God, the word `God' has a meaning to you, nervously you react to that word, psychologically you respond to that word. If you do not believe in God, that word is nonsense to you. If I have been trained in atheism or communism in which I do not believe, I react differently. Similarly, to you `good world' might mean something but to me it might have no meaning. What do you mean by `good world'? There is no good world. The fact is the world is rotten, because there are wars there are divisions of people - the upper, the higher and the lower, the authority, the prime minister and the poor cook, the big politician and the starving man, the king who has got everything and the other fellow who has nothing. It is a rotten world. We are caught by the words `good' and `world'. We have to understand what that word `good' implies, we have to create a world which is good. It is no good being carried away by words. We are always taught from childhood what to think, but never how to think. There is a science called semantics; in Greek, it means the meaning of words. There is a whole science being developed now because words have meaning. Words affect you mentally as well as physically and it is very important to understand them and not be affected by them. The moment the word `communism' is used, a capitalist goes into a shiver about it. Similarly, a man who has property is scared of the word `revolution; if you talk about revolution, he will throw you out. If you tell those who follow a guru, `Don't follow another, it is silly to follow', they get scared, they want to throw you out. This constant fear of word is due to lack of understanding. After all, education is the understanding of words and the understanding of communication through words. Am I wandering too far away from what you ask? There is no such thing as `good world'. We must take things as they are and not idealize, we must not have ideals as to what the world should be. All ideals - the ideal school, the ideal country, the ideal headmaster, the ideal of non-violence - are nonsense they are ridiculous, they are all illusions. What is real is actually `what is'. If I can understand the actual thing as it is - the poverty, the degradation, the squalor, the ambition, the greediness, the corruption, fears - then I can deal with it, I can break it down. But if I say `I should be this', then I wander off into illusion. This country has been fed for centuries on ideals which are all illusion. You have been fed on non-violence when you are really violent. Why not understand violence and not talk of nonviolence? There would be quite a revolution if you have understanding of `what is.' Question: How to get rid of fear? Krishnamurti: You want to know how to get rid of fear? Do you know what you are afraid of? Go slowly with me. Fear is something in relation to something else. Fear does not exist by itself. It exists in relation to a snake, to what my parents might say to a teacher, to death; it is in connection with something. Do you understand? Fear is not a thing by itself, it exists in contact, in relation, in touch with something else. Are you conscious, aware that you are afraid in relation to something else? Do you know you are afraid? Are you not afraid of your parents, are you not afraid of your teachers? I hope not, but probably you are. Are you not afraid that you might not pass your examinations? Are you not afraid that people should think of you nicely and decently and say what a great man you are? Are you not afraid don't you know your fears? I am trying to show how you have fear, I and you have lost interest already. So first you must know what you are afraid of. I will explain to you very slowly. Then you must know also, the mind must know why it is afraid. Is fear something apart from the mind, and does not the mind create fear, either because it has remembered or it projects itself in the future? You had better pester your teachers till they explain to you all these things. You spend an hour every day over mathematics or geography, but you do not spend even two minutes about the most important problem of life. Should you not spend with your teachers much more time over this, how to be free from fear than merely discussing mathematics or reading a text-book? You have asked this question how to get rid of fear, but your mind is not capable of following it. The older people perhaps can. So we are going to discuss this with the teachers. A school based on fear of any kind is a rotten school, it should not be. It requires a great deal of intelligence on the part of the teachers and of boys to understand this problem. Fear corrupts and to be free from fear one has to understand how the mind creates fear. There is no such thing as fear but what the mind creates. The mind wants shelter, the mind wants security the mind has various forms of self-protective ambition; and as long as all that exists, you will have fear. It is very important to understand ambition, to understand authority; both are indications of this term which is destruction. Question: It is true, as you said, that fear corrupts the mind, especially with old people. It is also true that corrupt minds especially of the older people create fear. The problem appears to be how to eliminate such minds. Krishnamurti: You have understood the question? The gentleman says `Should we not eliminate the older minds which are corrupted by fear'? This means what? Destroy the older people, put them into concentration camps? All minds, whether old or young, are corrupted by fear, either imposed from outside or self-created. It is not a question of getting rid of somebody. That is what they are doing all over the world - if I do not agree with you, you liquidate me you put me in a concentration camp. That is not going to solve the problem. What is going to solve the problem is the right kind of education which will help me to understand the problem of fear, how fear comes, how it comes from the past and how fear is created in the present, to be projected in the future. Sirs, do think about this; this is far more important than all your examinations, than your textbooks, than your degrees; B.A. or M. A. after your name means absolutely nothing though they may get you a job. The problem is not how to liquidate the old people or the young people with corrupt minds. What is wanted now is a revolution, a mind capable of thinking of all these problems differently and creating a new world. January, 5, 1954. BANARAS, INDIA 6TH JANUARY 1954 3RD TALK TO STUDENTS AT RAJGHAT SCHOOL You know we were discussing yesterday, if you remember, the question of fear. Most of us are afraid of something or other; and if we can eliminate fear, get rid of it, perhaps we should create a different world altogether. It seems to me to be very important to understand this, specially while we are young. Because the older we grow, the more difficult it is to get rid of this fear, because circumstances are much too strong for most people to withstand the impacts of fear. I really want to communicate, tell you something of this, because I feel it is very important, because fear corrupts our minds and when we are afraid there is no love. In this world, there is no love. We talk about love, we talk about brotherhood, we talk about kindliness, about life being one, but those are just words; they have no meaning, they are a lot of words bamboozling, deceiving people. In fact, love does not exist. How can there be love when you see the appalling poverty, the miseries, the very very powerful people and the poor people? I think one of the causes of there being no love is fear. If you are afraid of your teacher, of your parents, of what people say and so on, how can you love? Without love, life has no meaning, because life becomes very dry, dull, weary; and you do not see the flowers, the trees, the birds and sunlight on the water, you do not really live, you do not enjoy life. By `enjoyment' I do not mean going to cinemas or having a good job or having a car - those are external things. The really inward joy of living, the feeling of internal richness whether you are materially poor or rich, that feeling of the earth being ours to be made more beautiful, to bring about a different status in our relationships with each other - these are important. But if there is fear, you cannot have these. These come only when there is love in our being. Love is not a thing that you cultivate, it is in the thing you practise. Day after day, you may say `I must love, I must be kind, I must be gentle'. It does not come out of that; it comes like the sunlight in the morning, actually without your knowing it; it comes only when there is no fear. Please listen to this carefully because, when we are young, if we can understand this and have a feeling of it, then nothing can destroy us. You may be poor, you may have no capacity, you may not look well or beautiful; but the thing that makes life rich, really rich, is this quality of love, stripped of all fear. So, in an educational place like this, surely our first concern, not only of the teachers but of you and all the members of the Foundation, it seems to me, is to eliminate the real causes of fear. While you are here, it is necessary to explain to each one of you the causes of fear just as Mathematics, Geography. or History is explained to you. The teachers may still be afraid, the Foundation members may still be afraid; but for you, it is important that all these things are explained because then you will create a new world, a new education. I think one of the causes of fear is comparison. You know what `comparison' is? To compare you with somebody else, to compare you with a clever boy, or to compare you with a dull boy, to compare you with Gandhiji or Buddha or Christ or somebody else -if you are any communist, it won't be Buddha or Christ, it will be Stalin or Lenin - to compare you with somebody else is the beginning of fear. I will show you why'. I will go into it and you will see the importance of not fearing. Our whole society is based on comparison, is it not? We think comparison is necessary for growth. I compare myself to another politician and say `Well, I must beat him, I must be better than him.' When a teacher compares you with another boy who is perhaps a little clever, what is happening to you? Have you noticed what happens to you when you are compared? The teacher says to you `Be as clever as the other boy.' To make you as clever, as strenuous, as studious as the other boy or girl, he gives you grades, he gives you marks; and so you keep on struggling, competing; you are envious of the other boy. So, comparison breeds envy, jealousy, and jealousy is the beginning of fear. So, when you are compared with another boy, you as an individual, as a boy or girl are not important, but the other boy is important. When you compare yourself with somebody else, the somebody else is more important than you. Is it not so? You, as an individual, with your capacities, with your tendencies, with your difficulties, with your problems, with your being, are not important; but somebody else is important; and so you, as a being, are pushed aside and you are struggling to become like somebody else. So in that struggle is born envy, fear. You watch yourself in a class when the teacher compares you, gives you different marks, different grades; you are destroyed, your own capacities, your own innate being, get suppressed. You talk about soul and freedom and you think you know all the rest of it; but those are just words because when you are compared with somebody else, you are being destroyed. You may be dull or stupid, but you are as important as the other boy or girl whom the teacher or the parent considers intelligent. So, should not a school, an educational centre of this kind, eliminate comparison altogether because you are important and not somebody else? Your teacher has also to be much more watchful of each individual, has he not? The difficulty is that the parents are not interested in all these, they want you to pass an examination, to get a job; and that is all their interest. So, what do they do? At home, they compare you with your elder brother or nephew or niece and say `Be as clever as that.' That is not love. When there is comparison, there is no love. You know when there are many children the mother, if she really loves her children, does not compare. Each is as important as the other. Is it not so? Unless the mother is stupid, callous, unintelligent, she does not pick up one boy of the family and say `He is my favourite and you must all be like him.' The real mother with love in her being does not compare. The cripple, the stupid, is as important as the clever one. In the same way, here we must not have an ideal and say we are going to work towards it; we must eliminate all this competitive comparison. The teacher has to study each boy and find out his capacities, in what way he is making progress, in what way he is studying. Perhaps you should not use that word `progress' at all. The difficulty is how to make, how to help, each boy or girl to be studious, to learn. We learn now through comparison, through competition, through grades; we are forced, are we not? If you are lazy in the class, what happens? You would be pointed out as being lazy and the other boy as active. The teacher may say `Why don't you be like him'? You are given lower marks than the other boy or girl, you struggle and struggle and struggle to learn mathematics, what happens? Your brain, your being, is all the time being twisted, because you are not interested in Mathematics. But you may be interested in something else through which you can learn Mathematics. So, to eliminate fear is extremely difficult; it must be done radically, right from the beginning, from childhood, from the kindergarten, from the small age, till you leave this place. It is our job, it is not an ideal. It must be done every day and we must work out as we are doing this because, you see, in this so-called civilized world, competition leads to ruthlessness. Do you understand what that word means? It means brutality, disregard of another without thinking of another. Because you are ambitious, competitive, you are aggressive, you want to get more and more; like you, everybody else also has a right to get more and he struggles. Our society is built on this, is built on envy, is built on jealousy, is built on ambition in the name of the country, in the name of the people and all the rest of it, but you are the centre. This competition leads ultimately to war, ultimately to the destruction of people, to greater misery. Seeing all this throughout the world, is it not right that a few of us who are really interested in this hind of education, should sit down, work out a way of teaching, of living, of educating, in which there is no comparison, in which there is not a sense of somebody being more important than you? You are as important as any one else but the teacher has not found out how to awaken your interest. If the teacher can find a way to arouse your interest, then you will be as good as the other. So, I think it is very important, while we are young, to understand this business of comparison. We think we learn by comparison, but really we do not. The real inventor, the real creative person is not comparing, he is just acting; he does not say `I must be as good as Edison or Rama', he works. When you write a poem, if you are comparing with somebody else, what happens to your poem? You do not write a poem if you compare yourself with Keats, with Shelley or any other great poet; you then cease to write at all. You write because you have something to say. You may put it badly, what you write may not have the right rhythm, your words may not be rich, easy, overflowing; but you have something to say and what you say - no matter how stupid it is - is as important as what has been said by Keats or Shelley or Shakespeare. If you compare, you cannot write. Have you ever painted? Do you ever paint? When you paint a tree, the tree tells you something. The tree gives you a significance, the beauty of it, the quietness, the movement, the shades, the depth, the shape, the flutter of a leaf. It tells you something and you paint it; you do not merely copy a leaf, but you express the feeling of the tree. But in expressing it, if you know your mind compare yours with one of the great painters, then you cease to paint, don't you? I see, you have not done any of these things. It is too bad! What you miss in life! Probably you are very good at Mathematics or Science - which is also necessary. If you miss all the rest, Mathematics and passing a few examinations have no meaning at all. You become such dull human beings. What is important is to understand what fear is and to eliminate fear. One of the causes of fear is envy, and envy is comparison. A society based on comparison, envy, is bound to create misery for itself and for others. You know, a contented person is not one who has achieved a result but one who understands the things as they are and goes beyond them. But to understand things as they are, if your mind is always comparing, judging, weighing, it is no good. Such a mind can never understand things. To put it very simply, if you are compared with somebody else, you are not important, are you? In that comparison, there is no love. Is there? Our society, our schools, our education, our big people - they have no love. So, all our society, all our culture is going to pieces; everything is deteriorating. That is why it is very important that at this place, here at Rajghat, this thing is done, that the teacher, the Foundation members and the students create this thing. Question: What are manners? Krishnamurti: Did you listen to what I was saying previous to your question, or were you so concerned with your question that you did not listen to what I was saying? We will talk about manners. You want to know what manners are. Manners are born of respect. If I respect you, I am kind, I am gentle. Respect and manners go together don't they?, manners being conduct, conduct being behaviour, behaviour being action. That is, when I respect, when a boy or girl or an elder person comes, I get up - not because he is an old man, not because he is a governor, not because he is somebody from whom I can get something, but because I have the feeling of respect for people whether they are poor or rich. Manners are conduct, behaviour; and it is necessary, is it not?, to have manners, to be polite, not artificially - which means superficial - but to have good feeling for others. Having that good feeling for others, you become respectful, you have good manners, you talk quietly, you consider others. That is necessary, is it not?, because when there are lots of people living together, if everyone was thoughtless, we shall have a chaotic society. So, manners, if they are the outcome, the natural outflow, of deep respect and understanding and love, have a meaning, a significance; they are a beauty on this earth. Unfortunately, we learn superficial manners. You watch the way you talk to the servant and the way you talk to the headmaster. To the one, you are just tremendously respectful. To somebody who, you think, has got something to give you, you almost go on your knees; but to the cooley or to the poor beggar, you are indifferent, you do not care. But real consideration is when you have respect both for the poor man or the poor woman as well as the rich man; in yourself, you are rich; you have affection, you have kindliness for another - it does not matter whether he is a governor or a cooley. Have you ever smelt a flower? The flower is not concerned much whether the passer-by is a rich man or a poor man. It has perfume, it has beauty and it gives it, it has no concern whether you are a boy or a governor or a cook. It is just a flower. The beauty of it is in the flower, in the perfume. If we have that sense of inward beauty, inward respect, inward love, inward feeling of being sensitive, then from that comes nice, good, happy manners without compulsion. But, without that, if we are quite superficial, it is like putting on a coat. It looks very nice, but it is very shallow. empty. Question: What is true love? Krishnamurti: Again, the same business! We want a definition, we want words. How can you love if there is fear? You see how easily we are satisfied with words. If I tell you what is true love, it will have no meaning to you. Is it not very important to find out if we love at all, not what is true love? Do we love a flower, a dog, husband, wife, child? Do we love the earth? Without knowing that, we talk about true love. The love we thus talk about may be phony love; it is unreal, it is an illusion. How can I love if I have fear in me? I assure you it is one of the most difficult things to be free from fear. It is not easy. Without understanding the whole process of fear, the implications of fear -not only the conscious fears but the subtler, the deep down fears, the fears that are hidden deep down - without understanding all that, it is no good asking what true love is. Then you can look up a dictionary and find out what `true' means and what `love' means. You see, the difficulty is we have always been educated what to think but we do not know how to think; and the greatest difficulty is to break away from what to think and to enter into the stream of how to think. To break away from what to think, we must know, we must be conscious, we must be aware, that our whole education, our cultural upbringing is what to think. You read the Bhagvad Gita, or Shakespeare, or Buddha, or some other teacher, or revolutionary leader, and you know what to think. They tell you exactly what to think and you think according to the pattern. That is not thinking at all; it is like a machine repeating, a gramophone playing over and over again. To know it and to stop it is the beginning of how to think. Question: Is it right to copy something? Krishnamurti: Let us go step by step. When I use English, I am copying English, am I not? When you speak Hindi, you are copying the words, you are learning the words, you are repeating the words, and so it is a form of imitation. When I put on this kurta, this pyjama, it is a certain copying. When I write, when I repeat a song, when I read, when I learn mathematics, there is a certain imitation, is there not? So, there is copying, imitation at a certain level. At a certain other level of our life, our life is not just imitation. There are all kinds of issues, problems. Let us go into them slowly. We copy tradition, tradition is copying. When you do Puja, when you put on sacred thread, when you do this and that, that is also imitation. When you do Puja or some of these things, do you say to yourself `Why should I do it?' You never question it. You merely accept it because your parents do it, your society does it; and you just thereby become an imitative machine. You never say `Why should I do any Puja? What is the meaning of it? Has it any meaning?' If it has any meaning, you have to find it out, and you are not to be told by somebody else that it has such and such a meaning. You have to find out and, to find out, you must be unprejudiced, you must not be against it or for it. That requires a great deal of intelligence, that requires fearlessness. Most old people have some guru or other, some kind of guru round the corner. Why should you have a guru merely because the old people have it? This means you have to find out why they have it. They have it because they are afraid, they want to arrive in heaven safely. Neither they nor you know if there is a heaven. Their heaven is what they imagine it to be. So, you need a great deal of skepticism - not doubt - to find out and not to be smothered by the older people and by their ideas of what is true, of what is ideal, what is right and wrong. Inevitably, there must be a certain amount of imitation, like any song, or mathematics and so on. But the moment that imitation is carried over into psychological feeling, it becomes destructive. Do you know what that word `psychological' means? It means the self, the ego, the subtler feelings, the inward nature. When imitation begins there, then there is no creativeness. That is a very complex problem because imitation means action according to a pattern. Imitation, copying means the acceptance of action according to memory. Experience is inevitably imitation because all experience is dictated by the past, and the past is imitation. The difficulty is to see whether imitation is inevitable and to be free inwardly of all imitation. That requires a great deal of thinking - that is real meditation. If the mind can free itself from all projective images and thoughts which are imitative, then only is there a possibility of that reality, God or truth being. A mind that is imitative can never find what is real. Question: How can we avoid laziness? Krishnamurti: Let us find out together how to avoid laziness. Because it is your question, I am not just going to answer it. You and I are going to find out. You may be lazy because you are eating the wrong kind of food, or you may be lazy because you have inherited from your parents a lethargic body, or your liver is not working properly, or you have not enough calcium which means milk. Your laziness is an escape from the things which you are afraid of. You become lazy because you do not want to go to the school, you do not want to study, because you are not interested in, study. But you are not lazy if you go and play a game, you are not lazy to quarrel with somebody. Your laziness may be due to the lack of the right kind of food or an inherited tendency from the parents or an escape. Do you understand what I mean by `escape'? You want to escape from what you do not want to do; therefore, you become lazy. You do not want to study, because you are not interested in studies, studying is a bore; and the teacher is not very good, he is also a bore. So, you say `All right' and you become lazy. So, the teacher and you have to find out if you have the right food; perhaps with right food you will become active. Your teacher has to find out what you are really interested in - Mathematics, geography or building something. Then, in doing that, you will become active. All these have to be gone into. The teacher must not say `You are a very lazy boy, you will be punished, you will get less marks'. Question: But for fear, we would have no respect for our parents. How do you say fear is destructive? Krishnamurti: Do you respect your parents out of love or out of fear? I am saying `How can one have respect if there is fear?' Such respect is not respect at all; it is an apprehension, a fear. But if you have love, you will respect whether it is your father, or the governor, or a poor cooley. Is not that simple? The respect born of fear is destructive, it is false, it has no meaning. Question: Why do we feel a sense of fear when we do not succeed? Krishnamurti: Why do you want to succeed? You do something and in itself it is beautiful, it is sufficient. Why do you want to have the feeling that you have succeeded? Then you have pride, and then you say `I must not have pride.' Then you try to cultivate humility which is all absurd. But if you say `I am doing it because I love to do it', then there is no problem. Question: What are the qualifications of an ideal student? Krishnamurti: I hope there is no ideal student. Look what you have asked! You want an ideal student; you picture his image, his ways of behaviour, his ways of conduct; and you want to imitate him. You do not say `Here I am. I want to find out about myself. I want to find out how to live, but not according to a picture.' You see, the moment you have an ideal, you become false; you say `How wrongly I have been brought up'! The ideal becomes much more important than what you are. What is important is what you are, not what the ideal is, not the ideal student or his qualifications. You are important, not an ideal. In understanding yourself, you will find out how false these ideals are. Ideals are the inventions of the mind which runs away from what the thing is. What is important is not an ideal but to understand `what is'. There is a beggar. What is the good of talking to him about an ideal? You have to understand him, to help him directly. The ideals of a perfect society are all fictitious and unreal, and it is the old peoples' game to talk about these ideals. `What is' is the actual and it has to be faced and understood. January 6, 1954 BANARAS, INDIA 7TH JANUARY 1954 4TH TALK TO STUDENTS AT RAJGHAT SCHOOL Don't you think that it is very important, while you are at school, you should not feel any anxiety, any sense of uncertainty but you should have a great deal of that feeling of being secure. You know what it is to feel secure? There are different kinds of security, of the feeling that you are safe. While you are very young, you have the security of relying on older people, the feeling that somebody is looking after you to give you the right food, the right clothing, the right atmosphere; you have a sense of feeling that you are being cared for, looked after - which is essential, which is absolutely necessary while one is very young. As you grow older and go out of the school into the College and so on into life, that security, that feeling that you are physically safe physically being looked after, goes into another field. You want to feel inwardly, spiritually, psychologically safe; you want to have somebody to help you, to guide you, to look after you, whom you call a guru or guide; or you have some belief or some ideal because you want something to rely on. The problem of seeking security, safety, is very very complex, and we won't deal with that now. I think that while you are at school, you ought to have physical and emotional and mental stability, the mental and physical feeling that you are being looked after, that you are being cared for, that your future is being carefully nurtured, carefully being watched over, so that while you are very young, while you are at school, there is no sense of anxiety, no sense of fear. That is essential because, to have anxiety, fear, apprehension, wondering as to what is going to happen to you, is very bad, is very detrimental to your thinking; out of that state, there can be no intelligence. It is only when you feel you have teachers who can really look after you, care for you physically, mentally and emotionally who are helping you to find out what you want to do in life, not forcing their opinions or their ways of life or their ways of conduct, that you feel you can grow, that you can live. That is only possible when you are at school with proper environments, with proper teachers. One of the things that prevents the sense of being secure is comparison. When you are compared with somebody else, in your studies or in your games or in your looks, you have a sense of anxiety, a sense of fear, a sense of uncertainty. So, as we were discussing yesterday with some of the teachers, it is very important to eliminate, in our school here at Rajghat, this sense of comparison, this sense of giving you grades or marks, and ultimately the fear of examination. You are afraid of your examinations, are you not? That means what? There is that threat before you all the time that you might fail, that you are not doing as well as you should, so that during all the years that you live in the school, there is this dark cloud of examinations hanging over you. We were discussing yesterday with some of the teachers whether it is possible not to have examinations at all but to watch over you every day, month after month, to see that you are learning naturally and happily and easily, to find out what you are interested in and to encourage that interest, so that when you leave the school, you go out with a great deal of intelligence, not just merely with the capacity to pass an examination. After all, if you have studied or you have been encouraged to study in your own interest because you like to do it, in which there is no fear - all the time, not just the last two or three months when you have to spurt and read for many hours to pass examinations - if you are watched over all the time and cared for, then when the examination comes, you can easily pass it. You study better when there is freedom, when there is happiness, when there is some interest. You all know that when you are playing games, you are doing dramatics, when you are going out for walks, when you are looking at the river, when there is general happiness, good health, then you learn much more easily. But when there is the fear of comparison, of grades, of examinations, you do not study or learn so well; but, unfortunately, most of your teachers indulge in that old-fashioned theory. Given the right atmosphere of enjoyment, of no fear, of not being compelled to do something, so that he is happy or is enjoying life in that state, a student studies much better. But the difficulty is, you see, neither the teachers nor the students think in these terms at all. The teacher is concerned only that you should pass examinations and go to the next class; and your parent wants that you should get a class ahead. Neither of them is interested that you leave the school as an intelligent human being without fear. The teachers and the parents are used to the idea of pushing a boy and girl through examinations because they are afraid that if they are not compelled, if they have no competition or no grades, they will not study. To them, it is a comparatively new thing to bring up and educate boys and girls without comparing, without compulsion, without threat, without instilling fear. What do you, students, really think will happen if you have no examinations, no grades? When you are not being compared with somebody else, what would happen to your studies. Do you think that you will study less? A voice: `Of course'. I do not think so. It is surprising that, even though you are young, you have already accepted the old theory! It is a tragedy. Look, you are young and you think compulsion is necessary to make you study. But if you are given the right atmosphere, if you are encouraged and looked after, you will surely study well - it does not matter if you pass examinations or not. They have experimented with all this in other countries. Here, we have not thought about all these things and so you, as a student, say `I must be compelled, compared, forced; otherwise, I won't study.' So, you have already accepted the pattern of the old. You know what the word `pattern' means? It means the idea, the tradition of the older people. You have not thought it out. Look! while you are young, it is the time of revolution, of thinking out all these problems, not just to accept what the old people say. But the old people insist on your following the tradition because they do not want you to be a disturbing factor, and you accept. So, the difficulty is going to be because the teachers and you are both thinking that compulsion of some kind, appreciation of some kind, coercion, comparison, grades, examinations are necessary. It is going to be very difficult to remove all that and to find ways and means without all that, so that you study naturally, easily and happily. You think it is not possible. But we have never tried it. This way - the way of examinations, appreciation, comparison, compulsion - has not produced any great human beings, creative human beings. The persons produced already have no initiative; they just become automatic clerks, or governors or book-keepers with a very small mind, meagre mind, dull mind. Do you see this? You are not listening to all this because you think this is impossible. But we have got to try it. Otherwise, you will be living in an atmosphere of fear, of threat; and no one can live happily in such an atmosphere. It is going to be very difficult, when one has been used to this way of thinking, living, studying, to completely change, push that aside and find a way to study, to enjoy. That can be done only if we all agree, all the students and all the teachers, that there should be no fear and that it is essential for all of us to feel a sense of emotional, mental, physical security while we are young. Such security is not when there are all these threats. The difficulty is that we are all not concerned with many of the deeper problems of life. The teachers are only concerned to help you to pass examinations, to make you study; but they are not concerned with your whole being. Do you understand what I mean? The way you think, the way your emotions are, the outlook, the traditions, the kind of person you are as a whole - the conscious and the unconscious - all that nobody is concerned with. Surely, the function of education is to be concerned with the whole of your being. You are not just a student to be pushed through certain examinations. You have your affections, your fears; just watch your emotions, what you want to do, your sex life. Here, in the school, all that the teachers are concerned with is to make you study even some subject in which you are not greatly interested and to pass through, and they think you have been thereby educated. To be educated implies, does it not?, to understand the whole, the total process, the total being, of you. To understand that, there must be on your part as well as on the teachers' part, a feeling that you can trust, that there is affection, that there is a sense of security and not fear. Look! this is not something impossible, something utopian, or a mere ideal. It is not. If all of us put our heads together, we can work this out. It must be worked out in the school; if not, the school must be a total failure like every other school. So, you have to understand the problem that one can really study much better, more easily, in an atmosphere in which there is no fear, in which you are not compelled, forced, compared, driven, in which you can study much better than in the old system, in the old ways. But of that, we must be completely sure. That is what we are doing here in the afternoons with the teachers. We talk over all this problem to see that you go out of this school, not as a machine but as a human being with your whole being active, intelligent, so that you properly face all the difficulties of life but not merely react to them according to some tradition. Question: Why do we hate the poor? Krishnamurti: Do you hate the poor, do you hate the poor woman who is carrying the heavy basket on her head, walking all the way from Saraimohana to Benaras? Do you hate her with her torn clothes, dirty? Or, do you feel a sense of shame that you are clothed well, clean, well-fed, when you see another with almost nothing and working day in and day out, year after year? Which is it that you feel? A sense of inward sensation, a sense of `I have got everything, that woman has nothing', or a feeling of hatred for the others? Perhaps we are using the wrong word `hate'. It may be really that you are ashamed of yourself and, being ashamed, you push away. Question: Is there any difference between cleverness and intelligence? Krishnamurti: Don't you think that there is a vast difference? You might be very clever, in your subject, be able to pass, argue out, argue with another boy. You might be afraid - afraid of what your father may say, what your neighbour, your sister, or somebody else says. You may be very clever and yet have fear; and if you have fear, you have no intelligence. Your cleverness is not really intelligence. Most of us who are in schools become more and more clever and cunning as we grow older, because that is what we are trained to do, to outdo somebody else in business or in black market, to be so ambitious that we get ahead of others, push aside others. But intelligence is something quite different. It is a state in which your whole being, your whole mind and your emotions are integrated, are one. This integrated human being is an intelligent human being, not a clever person. Question: Does love depend on beauty and attraction? Krishnamurti: Perhaps. You know it is very easy to ask a question, but it is very difficult to think out the problems that the question involves. That boy asks `Is cleverness different from intelligence?' Now, to really think it out, not wait for an answer from me, to really think it out step by step what it involves, to go into it, is much more important than to wait for an answer from me. This question indicates, does it not?, that we are used to being told what to think, what to do, and not how to think or do anything. We have not thought out these problems, we do not know how to think. While we are young, it is important to know how to think, not just repeat some professor's book; we have to find out for ourselves the truth, the meaning, the implications of any problem. That is why it is very important while we are here in the school that all these things, all these problems, should be talked over, discussed, so that our mind does not remain small, petty, trivial. Question: How can we remove the sense of anxiety? Krishnamurti: If you had no examinations, would you have the anxiety with regard to them? Think it out quietly and you will see. Suppose we are going out on a walk and we are talking about this problem; would you have any sense of anxiety if, in a couple of months, you will have an examination? Would you have anxiety if at the end of your examinations, B.A. or whatever it is, you would have to fight for a job? Would you? You are anxious because you have to have a job. In a society where there is keen competition, where everybody is seeking, fighting, you as a student are being trained from childhood in an atmosphere of anxiety, are you not? You have the first form to pass then the second form to pass and so on and on. So, you become a part of the whole social structure. Don't you? That is not what we are going to do in this school. We are going to create an atmosphere in which you are not anxious, in which you have no examination, in which you are not compared with somebody else, even if it involves the breaking of the school. You are important as a human being, not somebody else. If there is such an atmosphere, then examinations are not inevitable and you can study; it would not be difficult for you to pass the University examinations; because you have been intelligent during all the years you spent in the school and college, you would work hard for four or five months before the examination and pass the examination. After passing the final examination, when you go out in the world, you will want a job. But the job you take won't frighten you; your parents, your society won't frighten you; you will do something, even beg; you would not be anxious. At present, your life is full of anxiety because from the very beginning of your childhood you are caught in this framework of competition and anxiety. All of us want success and we are constantly told `Look at that man, he has made a great success.' So long as you are seeking success, there must be anxiety. But if you are doing something because you are loving to do it and not because you want to be successful, then there is no anxiety. As long as you want success as long as you want to climb the social ladder, there is anxiety. But if you are interested in doing what you love to do - it does not matter whether it is merely mending a wheel or putting a cog together, or painting or being an administrator - but not because you want position or success, then there is no anxiety. Question: Why do we fight in this world? Krishnamurti: Why do we fight? You want something and I want the same thing, we fight for it. You are clever, I am not clever; and we fight for it. You are more beautiful than I am and I feel I must also be beautiful, and so we squabble. You are ambitious and I am ambitious, you want a particular job and I want the same job, and so it goes on and on. Does it not? There is no end to squabbling as long as we want something. It is very difficult. As long as we want something, we are going to quarrel. As long as you say India is the most beautiful, the greatest, the most perfect, the most civilized country in the world, then you are going to quarrel. We start in the small way, you want a shawl and you fight for it. That same thing goes on in life in different ways and in different walks. Question: When a teacher or some other superior compels us to do a thing which we do not want to do, what are we to do? Krishnamurti: What do you generally do? You are frightened and you do it. Yes? Suppose you were not frightened and you ask the superior, the teacher, to explain to you what it is all about, what would happen? Suppose you say - not impudently, not disrespectfully - `I do not understand why you are asking me to do this which I do not want to do; please explain why you want this to be done.' Then, what would happen? What would generally happen is the teacher or superior will be impatient. He will say `I have no time, go and do it.' Also, the superior or your teacher might feel he has no reason; he just says `Go and do it', he has not thought it out. When you quietly, respectfully ask him `Please tell me,' then you make the teacher, the superior, think out the problem with you. Do you understand? Then, if you see the reason, if you see that he is right, that there is sense in what he says, then you will naturally do it; in that, there is no compulsion. But to do something that the superior says, because you are frightened of him does not mean a thing. When you do it and say `I am frightened', you would go on doing it even when he is not there. Question: When Puja is a form of imitation, why do we do it? Krishnamurti: Do you do Puja? Why do you do it? Because your parents have done it. You have not thought it out, you do not know the meaning of all that. You do it because your father or mother or great aunt does it. We are all like that. When somebody does something, I copy hoping to derive some benefit from it. So, I do Puja because everybody does Puja. It is a form of imitation. There is no originality about it. There is no consideration over it. I just do it hoping that some good will come out of it. Now, you can see for yourselves that if you repeat a thing over and over again, your mind becomes dull. That is an obvious fact, like in mathematics wherein if you repeat over and over again, it has no meaning. Similarly, a ritual repeated over and over again makes your mind dull. A dull mind feels safe. It says `I have no problems, God is looking after me, I am doing Puja, everything is perfect; but it is a dull mind. A dull mind has no problems. Puja, the repetition of a mantram, or any word which is constantly being repeated, makes the mind dull. This is what most of us want; most of us want to be dull so as not to have any disturbance. Whether it is beneficial or not is a different problem. You know that by repeating you can make your mind very quiet - not in the living sense, but in the dead sense - and that mind says `I have solved my problem'. But a dead mind, a dull mind, cannot be free of its problems. It is only an active mind, a mind that is not caught in imitation, not caught in any fear, that can look at a problem and go beyond it and be free of it. You are quoting somebody, because you have not thought out a problem. You read Shakespeare or Milton or Dickens or somebody else and you take a phrase out of it and say `I must know the meaning of it.' But if you, as you are reading, thought things out, if as you went along you used your mind, then you will never quote. Quoting is the most stupid form of learning. Question: No risk, no gain; no fear, no conscience; no conscience, no growth. What is progress? Krishnamurti: What is progress? There is a bullock cart and there is a jet plane. In this there is progress. The jet plane does 1300 to 1500 miles an hour and the bullock cart does two miles an hour. There is progress in this. Is there progress in any other direction? Man has progressed scientifically - he knows the distance between stars and the earth, he knows how to break the atom, he knows how to fly an aeroplane, a submarine; he knows how to measure the speed of the earth. There is progress all along that line. Is there progress in any other direction? Is there any lessening of wars? Are people more kind, more thoughtful, more beautiful? So, where is progress? There is progress in one direction and there is no progress in the other. So, you say risk will bring about progress. We make statements without seeing all the implications. We just read some phrases; and some students imitate, copy those phrases, put them on the wall and repeat them. Question: What is happiness and how can it be obtained? Krishnamurti: You obtain happiness as a byproduct. If you look for happiness, you are not going to get it. But if you are doing something which you think is nice, good, then happiness comes, as a side result. But if you seek happiness, it will always elude you, it will never come near you. Say, for instance you are doing something which you really love to do - painting, studying, going on a walk, looking at the sun shine, shadows, something which you feel `how nice to do it'. In the doing of it you have happiness. But if you do it because you want to be happy, you will never be happy. January 7, 1954. BANARAS, INDIA 8TH JANUARY 1954 5TH TALK TO STUDENTS AT RAJGHAT SCHOOL For several days we have been talking about fear and the various causes that bring about fear. I think one of the most difficult things which most of us do not seem to apprehend is the problem of habit. You know, most of us think that when we are young we should cultivate good habits as opposed to bad habits, and we are told all the time what are bad habits and what are good habits; we are always; told of the habits that are worthwhile cultivating and the habits which we should resist or put away. When we are told that, what happens? We have so-called bad habits and we want to have good habits. So, there is a struggle going on between what we have and what we should have. What we have are supposed to be bad habits and we think we should cultivate good habits. So, there is a conflict, a struggle a constant push towards good habits towards changing from bad habits into good habits. Now, what do you think is important? Good habits? If you cultivate good habits, what happens? Is your mind any more alert, any more pliable, any more sensitive? After all, habits imply, do they not?, a continuous state in which the mind is no longer disturbed. If I have good habits, my mind need not be bothered about them, and I can think about other things. So, we say, we should have good habits. But, in the process of cultivating good habits, does not the mind become dull because it functions in habit? If you have so-called good habits and let your mind function, move along these rails called good habits, your mind is not pliable, is it? It is fixed. So, what is important is not good habits or bad habits, but to be thoughtful. To be thoughtful is much more difficult, because the moment you are thoughtful, alert, aware, then it is no longer a problem of cultivating good habits. The thoughtful mind is sensitive and therefore capable of adjustment; whereas, a mind that is functioning in habit is not sensitive, is not pliable, is not thoughtful. One of the difficulties of a mind that is mediocre, small, petty, is that it functions in habit; and once the mind is caught in habit, it is extremely difficult to free itself from it. So, what is important is not the cultivation of habits, good or bad, but to be thoughtful, not along a particular direction but all round. Because, habit is thoughtlessness in a particular direction. I hope you're following all this. Perhaps it may be a little difficult; if it is, do please ask your teachers, and when they talk next time of cultivating good habits, discuss with them, not to catch them in argument but to understand what they mean by good habits. Good habits are also thoughtless. A mind that is caught in habit is not capable of quick adjustment, quick thought or alertness. To be thoughtful, not merely superficially but inwardly, is far more important than the cultivation of good habits. The mind is a living thing; but it is bound, held, hedged about, controlled, shaped, pushed by various forms of habit. Belief, tradition is habit. My father believes in something and he insists that I also believe. He does not put it that way but he creates an environment, an atmosphere, in which I have got to follow. He does puja which is a habit, and I naturally imitate him and thus cultivate a habit. Your mind is always trying to live in habit so that it won't be disturbed, so that it has not got to think anew or afresh, to look at problems differently. So, the mind likes to live in a half-awakened state; and habits come in very useful, like tradition, because you do not have to think, you do not have to be sensitive. Tradition says something and you follow - such as the tradition of putting something on your forehead, the tradition of turbans, the tradition of growing beards. When you accept and follow a tradition, you are not disturbed, your mind is dull and likes to be dull. That is our education. We learn mathematics, geography or science in order to get a job and settle down in that job for the rest of our life. You are a Christian or a Hindu or a Mussulman or whatever you call yourself, and there you function like a machine without any disturbance. You have disturbances, but you explain them away by your habitual thinking, so that your mind is never thoughtful, never alert, never questioning, never uncertain, always half asleep, put to sleep by tradition, by habits, by customs. That is why, if you notice, when you are in a school, you just disappear in the mass of people. You are just like anybody else. You are educated, you are a B.Sc. or an M.A. You have children, a husband a car; or you have no car and want a car. Thus you function, thus you live and gradually die and are burnt on the ghats. That is your life, is it not? You are trained to be thoughtless, not to revolt, not to question. Any little occasional quiver of anxiety you may have is soon explained away. This you consider to be a process of education. Surely, it is very important, is it not?, that while you are at this school you try and experiment with all this so that when the time comes for you to leave this place, you do so not with a mind that is functioning in habits, in tradition, in fear, but with a mind that is thoughtful. This thoughtfulness is not to be along any particular direction, communist thoughtfulness or congress thoughtfulness or socialist thoughtfulness; the moment it is labelled, it is no longer thoughtfulness. the moment you belong to something to some society, to some group, to some political party, you have ceased to think; for you think only in habit and that is not thoughtfulness. The chief concern of a school of this kind must be to create an atmosphere in which there is no fear, in which students are not compelled or coerced or compared with one another, so that there is freedom. This does not mean that the students are free to do what they want to do, but they have the freedom to grow, to understand, to think, to live, so that the mind can never function in habit, so that the mind becomes very active, not with the activity of gossip, not with the activity of mere reading, but with the activity of enquiry, of finding out, of searching for what is real, for what is true. So, the mind becomes an astonishing thing, a creative thing. Surely, that is the function of education, is it not?, not to give you good or bad habits, not to let your mind live in traditions but to break away from all habits and traditions, so that your mind is free from the very beginning to the very end, very active, alive, seeing things anew. You know, when you watch the river of a morning or of an evening, after you have watched for about a week, you lose all appreciation of its beauty, because you are used to it. Your mind becomes habituated to it, your mind is no longer sensitive to the green fields and the moving trees; you see them and you pass them by. You are no longer sensitive, no longer thoughtful. You see those poor women go by day after day, and you do not even know that they wear torn clothes and carry so much weight. You do not even notice them because you are used to them. Getting used to something is to grow insensitive to it. This is destructive as such a mind is a dull mind, a stupid mind. So the function of education is to help the mind to be sensitive, thoughtful so that it does not function in habit or tradition, so that it does not get used to anything, so that it is always fresh, alive. That requires a great deal of insight, a great deal of understanding. Question: Why do we get angry? Krishnamurti: It may be for many reasons. It may be due to ill health, to not having slept properly, to not having the right kind of food. It may be purely a physical reaction, a nervous reaction; or it may be much deeper. Because you feel frustrated, you feel caught, held, bound and you have no outlet, you let off steam, you get angry. Anger is not just a matter of control. The moment you control, you have created a habit. You know, the so-called meditation of most people is the cultivation of habit; when they are meditating they are cultivating a mind which will not be disturbed, which will function in habit; and such a mind will never find what is truth, what is God. If you merely control anger, the process is to cultivate a habit. Perhaps you do not understand what I am saying. Perhaps if the older people understand, they could explain this carefully to the children, not haphazardly, not impatiently, but explain the whole process of control, that it makes for habit and so makes the mind dull. They could explain why there is anger, not only the physical reasons but also the psychological reasons; how the mind which is sensitive, makes itself dull, insensible, through fear, through various forms of desires and fulfilments; and how such a mind can only think in terms of habit, control, suppression. A mind that is very alert, watchful, may lose its temper, but that is not important. What is important is to watch the mind, to see that it does not function in habit, that it does not become insensitive, dull, weary and ready to die. Question: Stray thoughts prevent me from concentration and, without concentration, I cannot read. Krishnamurti: You do not read, not because of stray thoughts but because you are not interested in what you are reading. You read a detective story or a novel; at that time your thoughts do not stray. Do they? If you are interested in what you are reading, it gives you enjoyment; then you are not disturbed by any thought are you? On the contrary, it is very difficult to let the book go. Do you read detective stories? Do you read novels? No? Then what do you read? What you are told to read in the class, is it not? Naturally, you are not interested in those things, you are forcing yourself to read them. When you force yourself to read, your mind goes off -which shows wrong education. But if you, from childhood, are given an opportunity to find out what you are interested in, then you will have natural, easy concentration without any effort to concentrate. But unfortunately for the older students this has not been possible, because they have been brought up in the old style, forced to read and to study. When your mind wanders, the problem arises. `How can I control my thoughts?' You cannot. Do not control your thoughts but find out what you are interested in. You have to pass your examinations, unfortunately. That is what is expected of you. But if you really want to understand the ways of your mind, the mind has to find out what it is interested in, vitally, for the rest of its life and not for ten days or for a few years. For such a mind, when it has found what it is interested in, there will be no problem of concentration; it naturally becomes concentrated. Question: What is the outcome of meditation? Krishnamurti: The outcome generally is what you want your meditation to be. You understand? If I meditate on peace, I will get peace. But it will not be real peace; it will be something which my mind has created. If I am a Christian, I meditate in a Christian way, and my mind will create a picture. If I am a Hindu devotee and I meditate, my mind will create an image and I will see it as a living image. My mind projects whatever it desires, and sees the thing as living; but it is self-delusion. The mind deceives itself. If I am a Hindu, I believe in innumerable things and my beliefs control my thinking. Don't they? Suppose I am a devotee and I sit down and meditate on Krishna, what happens? I create an image of Krishna. Don't I? My mind brought up in Hinduism has a picture of Krishna and that picture I meditate on; and that meditation is the process of my conditioned thinking. So, it is no longer meditation, it is just a continuous habitual form of thinking. I might see Krishna dancing, but it will still be the result of my tradition. So long as I have this tradition, the real thing cannot be perceived. So, my mind must free itself from tradition. That is real meditation. Meditation is the process of the mind freeing itself from all conditioning, either of the Hindu or the Christian or the Mussulman or the Buddhist or the Communist. Then when the mind is free, reality can come into being. Otherwise, meditation is merely self-deception. Question: Why do we feel sorry for the beggar when he comes to us and why do we feel angry when he leaves us? Krishnamurti: I am not sure whether you are putting the latter part of the question rightly. Perhaps you have a different meaning when you say you hate when they leave. Do you get angry merely because he leaves the place or because he leaves the place with a curse because you do not give. I go to you as a beggar and you give me something; and in the giving, you feel happy, you feel that you are somebody because you have given. For the majority of us, there is vanity in giving, is there not? Suppose you do not give, what happens? The beggar curses you and goes away. He gets angry and in return you also get angry. Perhaps you do not want to be disturbed and so you get angry. I really do not understand this question. Is this what you are trying to say? You feel kindly when you see a person, a beggar, because your sympathies are aroused and you feel it good to have this natural sympathy; but, at the same time, you feel disturbed because of his poverty and your being well off; you do not like to be disturbed and so you get agitated. Is this what you mean? There are several things taking place - the natural outgoing sympathy to give something; the feeling of anxiety; the feeling of anger, of irritation that you cannot do anything, that society is rotten and you cannot help; your own natural fears that you might catch his disease. I do not see what you mean when you say you get angry when the beggar goes away. Question: The habit of getting angry and the habit of getting vindictive - are they different psychological processes, or are they the same but varying in degree? Krishnamurti: Anger may be immediate but it passes and is forgotten. I think vindictiveness implies the storing up, the remembering of a hurt, the feeling that you have been frustrated, that you have been blocked, hindered. You store that up and eventually you are going to take it out, you are going to be violent. I think there is a difference. Anger may be immediate and forgotten and vindictiveness implies the actual building up of anger, of annoyance, of the desire to hit back. If you are in a powerful position and you say harsh things to me, I cannot get angry, because I may lose my job. So, I store it up, I bear all your insults and when an occasion arises, I hit back. Question: How can I find God? Krishnamurti: A little girl asks how she can find God. Probably he wants to ask something else and she has forgotten it already. In answer to the question, we are talking to the little girl, and also to the old people. The teachers will kindly listen and tell the girl in Hindi, as the question is important to her. Have you ever watched a leaf dancing in the sun, a solitary leaf? Have you watched the moonlight on the water and did you see the other night the new moon? Did you notice the birds flying? Have you deep love for your parents? I am not talking of fear, of anxiety, or of obedience, but of the feeling, the great sympathy you have when you see a beggar or when you see a bird die or when you see a body burnt. If you can see all these and have great sympathy and understanding - the understanding for the rich who go in big cars blowing dust every where and the understanding for the poor beggar and the poor ekka horse which is almost a walking skeleton. Knowing all that, having the feeling of it, not merely in words but inwardly, the feeling that this world is ours yours and mine - not the rich man's nor the communist's - to be made beautiful. If you feel all this, then behind it there is something much deeper. But to understand that which is much deeper and beyond the mind, the mind has to be free quiet, and the mind cannot be quiet without understanding all this. So you have to begin near, instead of trying to find what God is. Question: How can we remove our defects for ever? Krishnamurti: You see how the mind wants to be secure. It does not want to be disturbed. It wants for ever and for ever to be complete;y safe; and a mind that wants to be completely safe, to get over all diffi- culties for ever and for ever is going to find a way. It will go to a guru, it will have a belief, it will have something on which to rely and cling; and so, the mind becomes dull, dead, weary. The moment you say `I want to get over all my difficulties for ever' you will get over them, but your whole being, your mind, will be dead. We do not want to have difficulties, we do not want to think, we do not want to find out, to enquire. I wait for somebody to tell me what to do, because I do not want to be disturbed, I go to somebody who, I think, is a great man or a great lady or a saint and I do what he tells me to do, like a monkey, like a gramophone which is repeating. In doing so, I may have no difficulties superficially because I am mesmerized. But I have difficulties in the unconscious, deep down inside me, and these are going to burst out eventually, though I hope they will never burst out. You see, the mind wants to have a shelter, a refuge, a something to which it can go and cling - a belief, a master, a guru, a philosopher, a conclusion, an activity, a political dogma, a religious tenet. It wants to go to that and hold on to it when it is disturbed. But a mind must be disturbed. It is only through disturbance, through watching, through enquiry, that a mind understands the problem. The lady asks `Can a disturbed mind understand?' A man that is disturbed and is seeking an escape from the disturbance will never understand. But a mind that is disturbed and knows it is disturbed and begins to patiently enquire into the cause of disturbance without condemning, without translating the causes, such a mind will understand. But a mind which says `I am disturbed, I don't want to be disturbed, and so I am going to meditate on non-disturbance,' is a phony mind, a silly mind. Question: What is internal beauty? Krishnamurti: Do you know what is external beauty? Do you know a beautiful building? When you see a beautiful building or a beautiful tree, a beautiful leaf, a lovely painting, a nice person, what happens to you? You say it is beautiful. What do you mean by `beautiful'? There must be something beautiful in you to see the beauty outside. Must there not? You understand? Please tell that boy. The teacher who is responsible, his housemaster, will please listen to this and take the trouble to tell these boys and girls what we are discussing. This is far more important than the usual classes. Please listen. The boy wants to know how to be free for ever from all trouble. The other boy wants to know what is internal beauty; and when I ask if you know what external beauty is, you all laugh. But if you know that which is beautiful, if you have a feeling for beauty, you have sympathy, you have sensitivity, an appreciation of what you see - a magnificent mountain or a marvellous view - and no reaction. To have the appreciation of beauty, there must be something in you to appreciate and that may be inward beauty. When you see a good person, when you see something lovely, when you feel real kindness, love and when you see it outside, you must have it inside you. When you see the curve of the railway bridge across the Ganges, there must also be something in you which sees the beauty of a curve. Most of us do not see beauty outside or inside, because we have not got it inside; inside, we are dull, empty, heavy and so we do not see the beauty in anything, we do not hear the noise on the bridge, which has its own beauty. When you get used to anything, it has no meaning to you. January 8, 1954 BANARAS, INDIA 11TH JANUARY 1954 6TH TALK TO STUDENTS AT RAJGHAT SCHOOL We have been talking about fear and, I think, if we can go more into it, perhaps we shall awaken to initiative. Do you know what that word, initiative, means? To initiate, to begin. I will explain as I go along. Don't you think that, in old countries like India, because of various things like climate. overpopulation and poverty tradition and authority control thinking? Have you not noticed in yourself how you want to obey your teacher, to obey your parents or your guardians, to follow an ideal, to follow a guru? The spirit of obedience, the following, the being told what to do - that creates an authority, does it not? You know what `authority' is? It implies someone to whom you look up, someone whom you want to obey, to follow. Because you are yourself afraid, because you yourself are uncertain, you create an authority; and by the creation of authority, you not only follow but you want others to follow, you take delight in following and in forcing others to follow. I do not know if you have noticed it in yourself that behind this desire to obey, to follow, to imitate, to comply with somebody's wishes, is fear - fear not to do the right thing, fear to go wrong. So, authority gradually kills any kind of initiative - which is, to know how to do something easily, spontaneously, freely, out of yourself. Most of us lack that because the sense of creativity is destroyed in most of us. For instance, suppose you initiate some mischief which is your own, you tear, you destroy, you create some mischief; that feeling of doing something for yourself, out of yourself, without being asked, without being told what to do, that spirit of initiative is lost, because you are always surrounded by authority, by the older generation who seem to think they know what they are about although they do not, and who control you. So, gradually, the sense of doing things because you love to do them goes out of yourself and is destroyed. Have you ever walked down the road and picked up the stone that is in the way, picked up a piece of paper or torn rag, or plant, ed a tree which you will care for? When you have not been told to do these, you do them yourself, naturally; that is the beginning of initiative. When you see something to be mended, you mend it; when you see something that has to be done, without being told what to do, you do it, either in the kitchen or in the garden or in the house or on the road. Your mind gradually becomes free from fear, from authority; so you begin to do things yourself. I think it is very important to do that in life; otherwise, you become mere gramophones, playing over and over again the same tune, and so you lose all sense of freedom. But the older generation, the past generation, because of their nervous desires, their fears, their apprehensions of insecurity, want to protect you, they want to guide you, they want to hold you in fear, and through fear they gradually destroy in you the freedom to do things, to make mistakes to find out, so that you begin to lose this extraordinary thing called initiative. Please ask your teachers about all this. You see how very few of us have that freedom -freedom not merely to do things but freedom out of which you want to do things. When you see somebody carrying a great weight, you want to help him, don't you? When you see the dishes being washed, you want to do it yourself sometimes. You want to wash your clothes, you want to do things out of freedom. Do you know what that means? If one goes into it very deeply, you will find an extraordinary creativity coming into being. Truth is not something very far away, to be sought after, to be struggled and searched for. If you have freedom from the very beginning, from childhood, you will find as you mature and grow that, in that growth, there is initiative to do things spontaneously easily, naturally, without being told what to do. It is creative to write a poem, to be unafraid, to look at the stars, to let your mind wander, to look at the beauty of the earth and the astonishing things that the earth holds. To feel all this is really an extraordinary activity; and you cannot feel it without that freedom without that sense of initiative in which there is no authority, in which you do not obey merely because you are told what to do but you do things naturally, freely, easily, happily. As you go into it, you will see that you begin to take tremendous interest in everything, in the way you walk, in the way you talk, in the way you look at people, in the feelings you have, because all these things matter very much. If you have cultivated intelligence, this sense of freedom, all the time while at school, then a few months of intense study will be sufficient for you to pass your examinations. But now, what you are doing is to be concerned all the time with studies, with books, and you do not know what is happening all round you. Have you watched those village women carrying weights on their heads - cow dung cakes, wood, hay, or fodder? How extraordinarily beautiful is their walk! Have you watched the so-called well-to-do people? Do you notice how heavy they grow and how dull, because they do not look at anything? They are concerned only with their little worries and their desires, and with how to control their fears and their appetites; so, they live in fear; and living in fear, they have to follow somebody, to obey, so that they create authority - the authority of the policeman, the authority of the lawyer, of the government at one level; and also spiritual authority, of books, of leaders, of gurus - so that, in themselves, they lose the beauty of living, of suffering, of understanding. That is why it is very important that while you are at this school, you should understand all these things. Go out one day and plant a tree and look after it all the time while you are here. Find out what kind of tree to plant, what kind of manure to give it, and look after it. Then you will see something happening to you that you are close to the earth and not merely close to books. You are not interested in books after you get a job or after you pass your examination, and you will never look at another book. But there are trees, numerous flowers, living animals all around. If you do not have sensitivity to all these, you lose initiative and your minds become very small, petty, trivial, jealous, envious. It is very important while you are at this school to consider all these things, so that your minds become awakened to them. You know, scientists say that we are only functioning 15 per cent. Our capacity to think is only 15 per cent; probably, if we learn to function 50 per cent we would do much more mischief. But without cultivating sensitivity, understanding, affection, kindliness, even with the 15 per cent capacity, we would do a great deal of damage and mischief; and with 50 per cent capacity we would do monstrous things. If you understand all this, there comes a feeling of freedom from fear. How can you understand if you just listen to these talks and forget them? Do not listen to them that way. Listen so that you can live without fear, without following somebody; listen to be free, not when you are old but now. To be free requires a great deal of intelligence. You cannot be free if you are a stupid person. Therefore, it is very important to awaken your intelligence while you are very young; and that intelligence cannot be when you are frightened, when you are following, when you want somebody to obey you or when you yourself obey somebody. All this requires a great deal of thinking over and that is real education. The education that most of us now get is only superficial. Question: How can we create a happy world when there is suffering? Krishnamurti: You did not listen to what I said. You were occupied with your question. While I was talking your mind was wondering how you were going to ask a question, how you were going to put it into words; so, your mind was occupied with what you were going to ask, and you did not really listen. There was no pause, no gap, between when I stopped and your question. You immediately jumped into it - which means, really you did not listen, you did not see the importance of what I was saying, you were not paying attention. It is really important to know how to listen to people - to the old man, or to your sister or to your brother or to the man that goes by - which means really your mind is quiet so that a new idea, a new feeling, a new perception can penetrate. What I was saying is really very complex very difficult. You did not let that penetrate, enter your mind, because your mind was occupied with `I must ask a question. How shall I put it?' Or you were looking out of the window. It is nice to look out because the trees are beautiful. But you watch somebody come in and your mind is all the time agitated like those leaves on the trees. So, please, as I suggested, write out your questions, and when I finish talking, wait and read your question. Then your mind will follow what I am talking, so that you begin to listen. I think if we know how to listen, we will learn much more than all the time struggling to listen, struggling to pay attention. Some one asked `What is a beautiful world, and how can one create it when there is so much suffering?' Let us think it out together why it is that most of us want to do something. We think that activity, doing something, is more important than understanding what the problem is, what it is all about. You see a beggar, and your instinct is to give him something. But what generally happens is that, after giving, you forget all about it. You do not understand, you do not enquire into the whole question of poverty, poverty in the world. You know there are poor people and you also know that there is inward poverty. You may have a great deal of money, you may live in luxurious houses, but inwardly you may be as poor as a beggar. If you realize this you are afraid, you begin to read books, to acquire knowledge. It is like a rich man who covers himself with jewels and lives in a palace and thinks that he is rich. You learn to read or quote a great many spiritual teachers and the Bhagavad Gita. You may want to do good, but you do not stop there. You want to help the world and to put an end to the misery in the world. So you join groups, you join a society, or you form an institution. You become a secretary, you pay dues, you get gradually lost in some organization. Actually, you do very little help to the world. To do good really, you must understand yourself as you are doing good. Any action you do should help you to understand yourself, to go into yourself. Then in the transformation of yourself, in the changing of yourself, there is a possibility of bringing about a different world. But merely to do good or to join a society which will do good, seems to be superficial. But if in the very action of doing good, you begin to understand the complications of life, then out of that there can be a change, there can be a world in which suffering will not exist. Question: Why is stealing considered to be bad? Krishnamurti: Why do you think stealing is bad? You have a watch and I take it away from you. Do you think it is right? I take away something from you, which belongs to you, which your father has given to you or which you have got by some other means. I take it away from you without telling you, without your knowing it. Is it a good action? It may be that you have got it because of your greed. But I am equally greedy, equally acquisitive. So, I take it away from you. This is called stealing. Obviously it is not right. Is it? You see there are some boys and girls who steal as a habit, and older people do that too. Though they have money, though they have things which they need, the desire to steal overcomes them. That is a disease. It is a kind of mental perversion, an aberration a mental twist. Without understanding that twist, the older people generally punish or hurt and say that you must not steal, that it is very bad, and that you should be put in prison. They frighten you and so, the twist becomes more twisted, hidden, darker. But if there was an explanation, if the parent or the teacher took the trouble to explain and not condemn, not threaten, then perhaps the twist might disappear. One of the difficulties is that the teachers and the parents have no time, they have no patience; they have so many other children; they want a result, a quick result; and so, they threaten and hope that the boy will stop stealing. But it does not generally happen that way. The boy goes on quietly stealing. I think, in a school of this kind, the teachers who live with you much more here, should explain all these things to you. You spend an hour in a class reading mathematics or geography. Why not spend ten minutes out of that time, in discussing these problems. As you begin to talk it over, the teachers as well as you, the students, become intelligent. I am not saying that the teachers are not intelligent, but they become more intelligent. Question: What is a soul? Krishnamurti: What is a soul? You are not talking about the shoe, I hope. There is also a fish called sole. You think you have a soul, don't you? How do you know? You see, that is one of your difficulties. You accept things from your parents and you repeat them again and again and you say `Yes, I have got a soul'. What is a soul? Let us go into it slowly, step by step, and you will see something. In Benaras which is a city of the dead, so many people die. You also have seen a dead bird. The leaf in a tree, which is green, lovely, dancing, tender, withers and is blown away. Seeing all this, man says `Everything goes, everything disappears, nothing is permanent'. Black hair becomes grey; early in life you can walk ten miles or more but, later on, you can walk only two or three miles. Everything disappears. A tree which has lived for two or three hundred years is struck by lightning and disappears. There are trees in California which are three to five thousand years old; yet, they too will die. Very few things are permanent. Seeing this extraordinary sense of impermanence, man says `There must be something permanent, something which does not die, which is not corrupted by time'. He begins to invent things that have permanency, creating out of his mind, God, soul, Atman, Paramatman and so on. He himself sees that he is impermanent; so he longs for something which is permanent, which will never die, which no thief can take away. So, his mind speculates and, in his fear, he invents. he imagines. He says there is a soul which cannot be destroyed. He says `My body may go I may die, I may be eaten away by worms; but there is something in me which is imperishable'. He states that and then he worships that; then he builds theories round it, he writes books and quarrels about it; but he never finds out for himself if there is really anything permanent. He never says `I know everything is impermanent. I too will die. I too will grow old, and disease and decay will take place. But I want to find out if there is something beyond. So let me not invent, let me not say there is a soul or there is an Atman or there is this and that. But let me find out, let me enquire'. If only I make up my mind to find out, to enquire, then, through that enquiry, through calming my fears through getting rid of my greed, through knowing myself, I go deeper and deeper and I may find out something which is not mere words. You say there is character and character may be the soul. But what are you? You have certain tendencies, have you not?, certain idiosyncracies, certain ways, certain desires; all that is in you. You say `I am all that: and if I die, what happens to me? There must be something which must go on and on.' We went into all this, and it is a complex business. But do not accept anything unless you have searched out, unless you have gone into it yourself. Unfortunately your mind is engaged, and you are not awakening the mind so that it might go into this problem. When you accept, when you believe, you have stopped enquiring. So, to really enquire requires a mind which is very wide awake. Such a mind is not possible if you are following an authority or if there is fear. If you merely accept, you will never find out. Question: What is joy? Krishnamurti: A little boy asks `What is joy'? I wonder why he asks! Either he does not know what joy is - which would be really very sad - or he knows what joy is and wants to find out more about it. The boy is not going to understand what I am going to say, because unfortunately I cannot speak Hindi; but those who are responsible for that boy will please explain carefully and help him to understand his question. Will they please do it? The boy wants to know what joy is. When you see a flower, you have a feeling, have you not? When you see a sunset, when you see a nice person, when you see a beautiful painting, when you walk freely up a mountain and look from the top of the mountain into the valley and see the various shades, the sunshine, the houses when you see somebody smile, have you not a feeling which you call joy? But the moment you say `I am joyous, I feel joy', the thing is gone. Do you follow? The moment you say `I am happy' you are no longer happy. You see, we live in the past; we are already dying all the time; death is always with us. Duration is always our shadow, because we are always living in the past moment. That is why we say `I have known joy and it has gone, and I want to get it back'. So, the problem is to be conscious without the experiencing which is becoming the past. I am pursuing much too difficult a question. Sorry! When you enjoy something, when you write a poem or read a book, when you dance or do something else, just leave it; do not say `I must have more of it'. Because, that will become greed and therefore is no longer a joy. Just be happy in the moment. If it is sunshine, enjoy it, do not say `I must have more'. If there are clouds, let them be; they also have their beauty. Do not say `I wish I had a more beautiful day'. What makes you miserable is the demand for the more. You listen to all this and wisely shake your head, but it does not penetrate, does not go down deep. When you really stop demanding for the more, when you are no longer acquisitive, you will have joy without your knowing. Question: What is pathos? Krishnamurti: Why have you now thought of pathos? Did you read the book, `The Three Musketeers'? One of the three musketeers is called Pathos. The boy wants to know what is pathos. I wonder why he is asking such a question. Probably somebody else has put it, through him. I wish the older people would not do that; they are really corrupting the young mind. Boys are not interested in all this, the feeling of sorrow, the feeling of being pathetic, hopeless. I am sure the boy does not feel these things. The boy has his own problems. He wants to know why a bird flies, why there is light on the water, why his teachers or his parents are cruel to him, why he is not liked, why he must study, why he should obey some stupid old man. Those are his problems, not pathos. He wants to know what God is because it is so much talked of. Do encourage them to find out, to ask questions. If you only want to know the meaning of pathos, look it up in a dictionary and you will find the meaning. You do not want any explanation or definition from me. Our minds are so easily satisfied with definitions and we think we have understood. Such a mind is very shallow, Question: How can one listen to somebody? Krishnamurti: You listen to some body if you are interested. You have asked that question. If you really want to know how to listen to somebody, you will find out, You are listening, aren't you? I want to know how to listen. I ask you and I listen to you because you may tell me something and from that I will learn, I will know how to listen. There is in that very action, in that very question, an indication of how to listen You ask me how to listen. Now, are you listening to what I am saying? Have you ever listened to a bird? Can you listen - not with a great strain, not with great effort, but just listen - easily, happily, with interest, so that your whole attention is there? We do not listen that way, we are only eager to get something out of somebody. When you read, when you talk, you want to get something out of it. So, you never listen easily, happily. And when you do listen, you translate it into what is suitable to you, or you translate it according to what you have already read, thus getting more and more complicated, never listening peacefully easily quietly. Have you ever watched the moon for any length of time? Just watched it, or seen the waters go by, watched them without all the paraphernalia of sitting down and struggling to watch. If you do listen that way, you will hear much more, you will understand much more, of what is being said. Even if you have to listen to your mathematics or geography or history, just listen; you will learn much more. And you will also find out if your teacher is teaching you properly, or if he is merely becoming a gramophone record, repeating the same thing over and over again. Listening is a great art which very few of us know. January 11, 1954 BANARAS, INDIA 12TH JANUARY 1954 7TH TALK TO STUDENTS AT RAJGHAT SCHOOL Have you ever sat still? You try it sometimes and see if you can sit very quietly, not for any purpose, but just to see if you can sit quietly. The older you grow, the more nervous, fidgety, agitated, you become. Have you noticed how old people keep jogging their legs? Even little ones do it all the time. It indicates, foes it not? a nervousness, a tension. We think this nervousness, this tension, can be dispelled by various forms of discipline. You know what that word means? Your teachers talk to you about discipline. The religious books talk to you about self imposed discipline. Our life is a process of continuous discipline, control, suppression. We are held, blocked, restrained, so that we never know a moment in which there is a freedom, a spontaneity. We are controlled, self-enclosed. Listen to your teachers and ask them what these words mean. Did you, as I suggested yesterday, spend ten minutes of your class-time discussing these things? Did some of the teachers talk to you about all these things before the class begin? Why don't you insist on it? Why don't you make the teachers talk to you about it? The teachers and the grownup people are all anxious to get on with their class, with their job. They never have the time to look round. But if you insist, every morning that you spend ten minutes of your class-time talking about more important things, you will learn a great deal. As I was saying, we never know a moment of real freedom and we think that freedom comes through constant discipline, training, control. I do not think discipline leads to freedom. Discipline leads only to more and more self-enclosed minds. I know I am saying something which probably you have not heard before. You have always heard that you must have discipline to have freedom. But if you enquire, if you look into that word into the meaning and significance of that word, you will find that discipline means resistance against something, the building of a wall, and the enclosing of yourself behind that wall of ideas. That is foolish because the more you become disciplined, the more you control, the more you suppress, restrain, the more your mind becomes narrow, small. Have you not noticed that those people who are very disciplined, have no freedom? They have no spontaneous feelings, no width of understanding. The difficulty with most of us is that we want freedom and we think discipline will lead us to it; and yet, we cannot do what we want. To do exactly what you please is not freedom because we have to live with others, we have to adjust, we have to see things as they are. We cannot always do what we want. We really are not able, freely, spontaneously to do what we want; there is a contradiction, a conflict, between what we want to do and what we should do. Gradually, what we want to do begins to give way, to disappear, and the other thing remains - what we should do, the ideal - what others want us to do, what the teachers, the parents, the boys or girls want us to do. Deep down within me, there is a feeling, there is an urge, there is a demand to do something just really out of myself. But to find out what that action out of myself is, requires a great deal of understanding. It is not just doing what I like. Everybody in a self-imposed prison does what he likes, but that is a superficial action. To find out and do something which you feel deeply, inwardly spontaneously, easily, is very difficult, because we are suppressed. Have you noticed how people say `Do this and do not do that'? Are they not always telling you that? So, gradually you get into the habit of doing things without much thought. So, you become automatic like a machine that functions but without much vitality, without energy, without a great deal of thought, insight, love, affection, sensitivity. So, you have difficulty in finding out and doing something that you love to do. Also, your education does not help you to discover what you really, deeply, inwardly want to do, because your teachers and your parents find it so much easier to impose, through education, through control, something that you should do. What they consider to be your duty, your Dharma, your responsibility, is forced on you and, gradually, the things of beauty, the things that you yourself feel you could do if given an opportunity, are destroyed. So with most of us, there is inwardly a conflict going on all the time, between the thing that I want to do deeply - in which I am interested and which demands a great deal of understanding, a great deal of putting things aside which are worthless - and what I should do, what society demands, what the teachers have told me, what tradition has said. So, there is conflict between the two, and we think that freedom comes through controlling one against the other, through disciplining ourselves to a particular pattern of thought. In a school of this kind, is it not very important to understand the question of discipline? We must have order when there are three hundred or one hundred or even ten boys and girls. But to bring order amongst many is very difficult, because every boy and girl wants to do something of his or her own. The students here are well-fed, young, full of vitality and pep and they want to burst out; the teachers want to hold them, to keep them in order, to make them study, to regularise their life. Now is it not very important for the educator and also for you to find out what discipline means, what it implies? Certainly we must have order, but order requires explanation, intelligence, understanding, not suppression and the `Do this and do not do that. If you do not do that, you will get less marks, you will be reported to the Principal, to the guardian, to the parents'. Suppression does not bring order: that really brings chaos, that really produces a revolt of the ugly mind. Whereas, if we took trouble, if we had the patience to explain the importance of having order, then, there will be order. For instance, if you do not all turn up for a meal at the right time, think what a lot of trouble you will give to the cook. Your food will get cold, it will be bad for you to eat cold food. Also, you will become more and more inconsiderate. That is really the problem. If you are considerate, if you are thoughtful - both the old and the young - then you will have order. Unfortunately, the old people are not considerate, they are concerned about themselves, about their problems, their difficulties, their jobs. In this school, right from the beginning, we have intelligently to understand what discipline is. Discipline comes naturally out of consideration. Discipline is not resistance; it is really adjustment, is it not? When you consider somebody, you adjust; and that adjustment is natural, because it is born out of thought, care, affection. Whereas, if you merely say `You must be very punctual for a meal; otherwise you will have no meal, and will be punished', there is no understanding, no consideration. Suppose a boy does not get up early in the morning, the housemaster disciplines him and says `You must get up early; otherwise you will be punished; or he persuades the boy through love; these are all forms of fear, of inconsideration. The teacher has to find out why the boy is lazy. It may be that the boy wants to attract the teacher, or probably he has had no love at home and therefore wants protection, or he is not getting the right food or enough rest or enough exercise. Without going into all this, the problem of discipline becomes very trivial. So, what is important is not discipline, control or suppression, but the awakening of that which will regard all these problems intelligently, without fear. That is very difficult, because there are very few teachers in the world who understand all these things. Surely, it is the job of the Rajghat School and the Foundation to see that this thing is done, so that when the students leave this place, they are real human beings with consideration, with the intelligence that can look at everything without fear, who will not function thoughtlessly, but who will understand and be able to fit even into a society which is rotten. All these questions should be thought over every day, not by mere lectures given by the teachers but by discussion between the teachers and the students so that when the students leave this place and enter life, they are prepared to face life so that life becomes something happy and not a constant battle and misery. Question: It is said science has produced benefit as well as misery. Is science really beneficial to man? Krishnamurti: Before I answer that question, I should like to know if you listened to what I was saying? The very question came right on top of what I said. There was no gap, no interval. I am not criticizing you. I am not saying you are right or wrong. But is it not important to find out what the other man is saying? You really were not listening to what I was saying, because your question was going on in your mind. You know, I have said this half a dozen times so far and yet you go on doing it. Does it not show a lack of consideration? If you were really interested in what was being said, you would have listened. It requires thought, because we are dealing with difficult subjects and so if you want to listen, you cannot jump into the question. May I suggest that tomorrow you write out your questions? Take the trouble to put them down on a piece of paper. Then when I have spoken, wait a few minutes or seconds and then ask. This will help you to see how your own mind is working. What I am saying is not very complicated. I am putting into words the operation of your mind. If you want to understand, if you want to see how your mind works - that is the only way we can look at life - it is very important to understand my words. You say science has brought great benefits to man and also great misery and destruction. Is it on the whole beneficial or destructive? What do you think? Communication has improved. You can send letters to America in a couple of days. You can have the latest news from all over the world tomorrow morning or this evening. Extraordinary miracles are going on in surgical operations. At the same time, there are warships and submarines which are most destructive. The latest submarines can go around the world indefinitely, underwater, never coming to the top, run by automatic power. There are aeroplanes with bombs that can destroy thousands of human beings in a few seconds. Is it science that is wrong or the human beings that use science? I am a Hindu or a Mussulman or a Christian; so I have a particular idea which I think is more important than anybody else's idea and I am very nationalistic. You know what that means. I feel I want to dominate, I want to control, not only individuals but also groups of people. So I use destructive means, I use science. It is me that is misusing science, not that science in itself is wrong. Jet planes are not wrong in themselves, but how America or Russia or England uses them. Is this not so? Can human beings change? Can they cease to be Hindus, Mussalmans? There is a division between India and Pakistan, between Russia and America, England and Germany, France and other countries. Can we be human beings, without being Frenchmen or Indians, so that we can live together? Can we have a government which looks after all of us, not India or America only but all of us together as human beings? When human beings misuse science, we blame science. It is you and I, the Russian and the American, the French and the German, that are responsible for all this. That is why in a school of this kind, there should be no feeling of nationality, no feeling of class, no feeling that you are a Brahmin and I am an untouchable. We are all human beings whether we live in Banares or New York or California or Moscow. It is our world. This world is ours, yours and mine, not the Russians' or the English', not the Indians' or the Pakistanis'. It is ours; and with that feeling, science will become an extraordinary thing; but without that feeling we are going to destroy each other. Question: You say old people are fidgety and bite their nails. Have you not marked younger people also doing these things? Then how is it that the poor old people who have many drawbacks are pointedly mentioned that they are fit for nothing? Krishnamurti: Why do I point out the ugly habits of the older and not point out the ugly points of the young? Now, you know, young people are great imitators, are they not? They are like monkeys, imitating. They see somebody doing something and they immediately do it. Have you not noticed that children want to dress alike? In some countries, children put on uniforms, and a boy or girl who does not put on an uniform feels out of place, feels something is wrong with him. The imitative process is strong in young people, and when they watch older people, they begin to copy. The old people as well as the young people are not aware of what they are doing, and so the circle goes on increas- ing. The old people put on a sacred thread and the young people also put on a sacred thread. Some old person puts on a turban and the young men also put on turbans. I was not criticizing the older generation. It is not my business, and it would be impudent on my part to do so. But what is important is for you to watch, to be aware of yourself, to be aware of your actions -such as, when you bite your finger nails, when you scratch or when you pick your nose. Then you will stop doing them. You have to be conscious of all the things that are happening in you and outside of you, so that you do not become an imitative machine. Question: How can we suppress the inner conflicts? Krishnamurti: We have conflicts. Why do you want to suppress them? Do listen carefully. I am not trying to argue with you, but trying to find out, trying to understand the problem. So, I am not taking your side or my side. We have conflicts, have we not? If we can understand them, then there would be no suppression. We suppress, when we do not understand. The old person suppresses the child, because the old person has no time or he has got other things to do. So, he says `Do not, or do', which is a form of suppression. But if the older person took time, had patience and explained, went into the question with the child, then there would be no problem of suppression. In the same way, you can look at your conflicts without fear, without saying `This is right; this is wrong; I must suppress; I must not suppress.' If you see a strange animal, it is no good throwing a stone at it. You have to look at it. You have to see what kind of animal it is. In the same way, if you can look at your feelings and your conflicts without throwing bricks at them, without condemning them, then you will begin to understand. Right education from the very beginning should eliminate this inner conflict. It is the fault of education that makes us have these inward struggles, inward battles, inward conflicts. Do not suppress, but try to look at the conflict, try to understand it. You cannot understand it if you want to push it aside, if you want to run away. You have to put it, as it were, on a table and look; and then, out of that watching comes understanding. Question: What is real simplicity? Krishnamurti: That lady asks for a definition. What is simplicity? What is love? What is truth? What is a good world and so on? I have explained every day and I shall explain again how our minds want a definition and how by having a definition we think we understand. The same question could be put differently. Let us discuss what is simplicity and then find out what is real simplicity. The meaning of the two words, real and simplicity, you can find in the dictionary. But, to understand what is simplicity, requires a great deal of thinking, a great deal of enquiry. Perhaps that lady meant that, I do not know. So, she wants to talk about it, she wants to enquire, to find out what is simplicity - not real or false simplicity, but simplicity. What is simplicity? Is there real simplicity as distinct from false simplicity? There is only simplicity - not false or true. Now, what is simplicity? Does it consist in having a few clothes, just one or two saris, dhotis, or kurtas, living in mud houses, putting on a loin cloth and talking all the time about simplicity? Is that simplicity? Please find out. Do not say `yes, or `no'. A man who has a great deal - power, position, clothes, houses - can also be very simple. Can't he? More clothes, more outward appearances do not indicate that a man is not simple. Simplicity is something entirely different. Obviously, it must begin from within and not from without. You understand? For instance, I may have very few clothes only a loin cloth, I may live in a mud hut; I may live as a sannyasi; but inwardly, if I have conflicts, if I have fears, if I have gods, puja, rituals, mantrams, is that simplicity? I may put on ashes, I may go to temples; but inwardly, I may be extraordinarily complex, ambitious. I may want to be the governor, or I may want to reach moksha - which are both the same thing. For, in both the cases there is the seeking for security. But you call the man who seeks moksha a religious person, and the man who wants to become a governor a worldly person. Though outwardly very very simple, sleeping a couple of hours, washing his clothes, living a hermit's life, a man may be inwardly a very complex person; he may be very ambitious, and so he will discipline himself, force himself, struggle with himself to achieve the perfect ideal. Such a person is not a simple person. Simplicity comes when you are really inwardly simple, when you have no struggles, when you do not want to be anybody, when you do not want moksha, when you have no ideals, when you are not craving for anything. Being simple implies to be nobody here, in this world or in the next world. When there is that feeling, whether you live in a palace, or have only a few clothes is of very little importance. We have a tradition of simplicity, on which people live and which they exploit. The tradition is that you must have few clothes, you must get up very early in the morning, you must do some meditation - which is really an illusion - , you must go round trying to improve the world, you must not think about yourself. But inwardly, you are thinking about yourself, from morning till night, because you want to be the most perfect human being. And so, you have ideals of violence and non-violence, you have ideals of peace. Inwardly you have battling feelings, you struggle; and outwardly, you are a very simple person. This is not simplicity. Simplicity comes when there is a feeling of not wanting anything - which is quite arduous, which requires a great deal of intelligence. Real education is the education of simplicity, not the tradition of having few things. Now that I have answered this question, I want to know whether the lady has understood and how it will operate in her daily life. Is she now going to say `I do not care very much whether I have ten saris or a great many things; first of all, I must be very simple inside'? What are you going to do? Can you leave the outside and say `It does not matter, I must begin from within'? It is all one process, is it not? Because I understand the full significance of simplicity, the thing comes into being. I do not have to struggle to be simple. To struggle to be simple is `not to be simple.' But if I see the truth that the outward and the inward are one process, one thing, then I am simple; then, I do not have to struggle to be simple; that very struggle brings complexity. Question: Why do we exist and what is our mission in life? Krishnamurti: You exist because your father and mother have produced you, and you are the result of centuries of man, not only of Indian man but of man in the world, are you not? You are the result of the whole of India, of the whole of the world. You are not born out of any extraordinary uniqueness; because you have all the background of tradition, you are a Hindu or a Mussulman. I hope you are not insulted when you are called a Mussulman or a Christian. You are the product of the climate, the food, the social and cultural environments, the economic pressures. You are the result of innumerable centuries, the result of time, of conflicts, of pain, of joy, of affection. Each one of you, when you say you have a soul, when you say you are a pure Brahmin, is merely following it, the tradition, the idea, the culture, the heritage of India the heritage of centuries of India. You ask what is your mission in life. If you do not understand your background, if you do not understand the tradition, the culture, the heritage, if you do not understand the picture, then you take an idea, a twist, out of the background, you take and call that your mission. Suppose you are a Hindu and you have been brought up in that culture. Then, out of Hinduism, you can pick up an idea, a feeling, and make that into your mission, cannot you? Do you think differently, totally differently, from any other Hindu? To find out what the innate, potential being or urge is, one must be free of all these outward pressures, outward conditions. If I want to get at the root of the thing, I must remove all the weeds - which means, I must cease to be a Hindu or a Mussulman, and there must be no fear, there must be no ambition, no acquisitiveness. Then I can go in much deeper and see what the real potential thing is. But without removing all this, I cannot assume something potential. That only leads to illusion, and is a philosophical speculation. Question: How can this be materialised? Krishnamurti: How can this come to fruition? First, there must be the centuries of dust removed and that is not very easy. It requires a great deal of insight. You have to be deeply interested in it. The removal of the condition, of the dust of tradition, of superstition, of cultural influences, requires understanding of oneself, not learning from a book or from a teacher. That is meditation. When the mind has cleansed itself of all the past, then you can talk of the potential being. You asked that question. Now go on with it, keep on operating on it till you find whether there is a real, original, incorruptible thing. Do not say `Yes, there must be' or `There is no such thing.' Keep on working at it, but not to find out, with a mind that is corrupt, something which is not corrupted. Can the mind cleanse itself? It can. If the mind can purify itself, then you can see, then you can find out. The purgation of the mind is meditation. Question: Why do we weep in sorrow and why do we laugh in happiness? Krishnamurti: Do you know what sorrow is? I am sorrowful when my brother or sister or father or mother dies. I have sorrow when I lose somebody whom I love. That acts on my nervous system, does it not? I cry, there are tears, I weep. I laugh when I feel very happy. It is the same reason, the laughter being the nervous reaction. Sorrow and happiness - are they different? When you hurt yourself, when the pain is very bad, you cry, don't you? You have tears in your eyes. The pain is so strong that it brings tears. That is one kind of sorrow - pain, physical pain. But there is also the pain when you lose somebody, when death comes and takes away the person whom you like. That gives you a shock, that gives you a sense of loneliness, a sense of separation, a sense of being left alone. That shock, the reaction of it, brings tears. You laugh when you see a smile. When you feel joyous, you dance, you laugh, you smile. These are obvious reasons. We are human beings. We want to have constant happiness; we do not want to suffer; we do not want to have tears in our eyes; but we always want smiles on our lips, and so the trouble begins. We want to discard sorrow and have happiness, and so we are in constant struggle, constant battle. But happiness is not something that you get. It comes when you are not seeking. If you seek happiness for itself, it will never come. But if you do something which you feel is right, which you feel is true, which you really love to do, in the very doing of it comes happiness. January 12, 1954 BANARAS, INDIA 13TH JANUARY 1954 8TH TALK TO STUDENTS AT RAJGHAT SCHOOL We have heard people say that, without ambition, we cannot do anything. In our schools, in our social life, in our relationship with each other, in anything we do in life, we feel that ambition is necessary to achieve a certain end, either personal or collective or social, or for the nation. You know what that word `ambition' means? To achieve an end, to have the drive, the personal drive, the feeling that without struggling, without competing, without pushing you cannot get anything done in this world. Please watch yourself and those about you, and you will see how ambitious people are. A clerk wants to become the manager, the manager wants to become the boss, the minister wants to be the prime minister, the lieutenant wants to become the general. So each one has his ambition, We also encourage this feeling in schools. We encourage students to compete, to be better than somebody else. All our so-called progress is based on ambition. If you draw, you must draw much better than anybody else; if you make an image, it must be better than that made by anybody else; there is this constant struggle. What happens in this process is that you become very cruel. Because you want to achieve an end, you become cruel, ruthless, thoughtless, in your group, in your class, in your nation. Ambition is really a form of power, the desire for power over myself and over others, the power to do something better than anybody else. In ambition, there is a sense of comparison; and therefore, the ambitious man is never really a creative man, is never a happy man; in himself he is discontented. And yet, we think that without ambition we should be nothing, we should have no progress. Is there a different way of doing things without ambition, a different way of living, acting, building, inventing, without this struggle of competition in which there is cruelty and which ultimately ends in war? I think there is a different way. But that way requires doing something contrary to all the established customs of thought. When we are seeking a result. to us, the important thing is the result, not the thing we do, in itself. Can we understand and love the thing which we are doing, without caring for what it will produce, what it will get us, or what name or what reputation we will have? Success is an invention of a society which is greedy, which is acquisitive. Can we, each one of us, as we are growing, find out what we really love to do - whether it is mending a shoe, becoming a cobbler or building a bridge, or being a capable and efficient administrator? Can we have the love of the thing in itself without caring for what it will give us, or what it will do in the world? If we can understand that spirit, that feeling, then, I think, action will not create misery as it does at the present time; then we shall not be in conflict with one another. But it is very difficult to find out what you really love to do, because you have so many contradictory urges. When you see an engine going very fast, you want to be an engine driver. When you are young, there is an extraordinary beauty in the engine. I do not know if you have watched it. But, later on, that stage passes and you want to become an orator, a speaker, a writer, or an engineer, and that too passes. Gradually, because of our rotten education, you are forced into a particular channel, into a particular groove. So you become a clerk or a lawyer or a mischief-monger; and in that job, you live, you compete; you are ambitious, you struggle. Is it not the function of education, while you are very young, particularly in a school of this kind, to help to bring about such intelligence in each one of you that you will have a job that is congenial to you and which you love and want to do, that you will not do a job which you hate or with which you are bored but which you have to do - because you are already married or because you have the responsibility of your parents, or because your parents say that you must be a lawyer when you really want to be a painter? Is it not very important, while you are young, for the teacher to understand this problem of ambition and to prevent it, by talking it over with each one of you, by explaining, by going into the whole problem of competition? This will help you to find out what you really want to do. Now, we think in terms of doing something which will give us a personal benefit or a benefit to society or to the nation. We grow to maturity without maturing inwardly, without knowing what we want to do, but being forced to do something in which our heart is not. So, we live in misery. But society - that is, your parents, your guardians, your friends and everybody about you - says what a marvellous person you are, because you are a success. We are ambitious. Ambition is not only in the outer world, but also in the inner world, in the world of the psyche and of the spirit. There also we want to be a success, we want to have the greatest ideals. This constant struggle to become something is very destructive, it disintegrates, it destroys. Can't you understand this urge to `become', and concern yourself with being whatever you are, and then, from there, move on? If I am jealous, can I know I am jealous or envious, and not try to become non-envious mentally? Jealousy is self-enclosing. If I know I am jealous and watch it, and let it be, then I will see that, out of that, something extraordinary comes. The becomer, whether in the outer world or in the spiritual world is a machine, he will never know what real joy is. One will know joy only when one sees what one is, and lets that complexity, that beauty. that ugliness, that corruption, act without attempting to become something else. To do this is very difficult, because the mind is always wanting to be something. You want to become philosophers, or become great writers. You may be a great writer, you want to become an M.A. But, you see, such ambition is never a creative thing. In that ambition, there is no initiative, because you are always concerned with success. You worship the god of success, not the thing `that is.' However poor you may be, however empty, however dull, if you can see the thing as it is, then that will begin to transform itself. But a mind occupied in becoming something never understands the being. It is the being, the understanding of the being of what one is, that brings an extraordinary elation, a release of creative thought, creative life. All this is probably a bit difficult for the average student. As I said yesterday you should discuss this with your teachers. Did you ask your teachers? Did you take ten minutes of your class time for this? What happened to you and what happened to the teacher? Could you tell me? Could you understand, through the teacher, what was said? This morning, we are talking about something which is entirely different from the usual traditional approach to life. All the religious books, all our education, all our social, cultural approaches are to achieve, to become something. But that has not created a happy world, it has brought enormous misery. Hitler, Stalin, Roosevelt are all the result of that; so also are your particular leaders, past and present. Ambition is the outcome of an unhappy person, not of a happy person. But to live, to do, to act, to think, to create, without ambition is extremely difficult. Without understanding ambition, there cannot be creativity. An ambitious person is never a creative, joyous person; he is always tortured. But a man who feels the love of the thing, the being of the thing, is really creative; such a person is a revolutionary. A person who is a communist, a socialist, a congressman, or an imperialist, cannot be revolutionary. The creative human being is inwardly very rich and, out of that richness, he acts and he has his being in it. Ask your teachers the implications of all that I have said, and find out if one can live without ambition. We live with ambition. That is our daily bread. But that bread poisons us, produces in us all kinds of misery, mentally and physically, so that the moment we are thwarted and prevented from carrying out our ambition, we fall ill. But a man who has the inward feeling of doing the thing which he loves, without thinking of an end, without thinking of a result - that man has no frustrations, he has no hindrances, he is the real creator. Question: Why do we feel shy? Krishnamurti: It is good to be a little shy, is it not? A boy or a girl who is just pushing everyone without reservation, without a sense of hesitation is not as tender and sensitive as a shy person. A little shyness is good, because that indicates sensitivity. But to be very shy implies also self-consciousness, does it not? What does that word, `self-conscious', mean. To be conscious of oneself, to be conscious of one's person, to be conscious of one's own dignity. Such a person is shy in the wrong way, because he is the centre of comparison. He is the centre from which he looks out. When a boy is always comparing himself with somebody, he becomes self-conscious, he is conscious of himself. Most young people are self-conscious; as they grow to adulthood, they feel a little awkward, a little shy and sensitive. I think, one has to have throughout life that sensitivity, that sense of being tender, being slightly timid, because that implies great sensitivity. This is denied when I say `I belong to this class; I have position, authority; I am somebody'. When you think you are somebody, you have lost all sensitivity, all tenderness; and the beauty of being timid goes out of life. You know, one must be hesitant, timid, to enquire, to find out. If you be hesitant in approach, very sensitive, then you will find out the whole complication, the beauty, the struggle of life. But without that feeling of hesitancy, a timidity which is not tinged with fear, you will never see the things of life, you will never see the trees and their shades, or the bird sitting quietly on a telegraph post. Question: How can human beings progress when there is no ambition? Krishnamurti: Do you think inventions are the result of ambition? Do you think the inventor, the scientist who really thinks out a problem, or the true research-worker has ambition? Do you think the man who invented the jet plane, the jet engine, was ambitious? He invents; then the ambitious people come along, and use the invention for their purpose - to make money, to make wars, to make an end for themselves. Have you done anything through ambition? You may have moved from here to there. You may get a better job, or a better position; you may become the Principal or the Governor or the Collector. But is that doing, is that living, is that progress? There is the bullock cart and there is the jet plane; that is generally called progress. There has really been a tremendous progress from the bullock cart to the jet plane, from the postchaise to teletype and instantaneous communication. Our idea of progress is always in one particular direction, we do not take into account all the implications of ambition. Suppose an oil well is discovered here. Then, what do you think will happen? There will be all the machinery of exploitation. It is not that there should not be an oilfield in Benaras, but the idea of progress is to use that oil and produce more and more without understanding the whole complex problem of ambition. Take a very simple. example. A missionary in the South Seas regularly held Sunday classes and read the Bible to his parishioners. When he read the Bible stories they listened very attentively. After some time, he thought `how good it would be if they all knew how to read.' So he went to America to collect money. He came back and taught them how to read and write. But, to his great disappointment, he found that they were reading comic magazines, and not the Bible. So, real progress is in what is happening to your mind. Are you making progress there, or are you just gramophone records, repeating over and over again the same old comic, tragic, or stupid stories? Question: Why are people born in the world? Krishnamurti: For various reasons - sex passion, the desire to have children. It is a very simple reason. You look at a tree or a bush that flowers. Nature wants to keep on breeding its own species, does it not? You understand? The mango tree has flowers; the flower is pollinated and becomes the fruit. There is a stone in the mango and that stone you throw away; it falls in fertile soil and grows into a tree which produces many more mangoes. There is a continuity in this process, is there not? So in human beings also, there is continuity of the species. But the mangoes do not fight amongst themselves; tigers do not kill each other; only we, human beings, destroy each other; we are the only species that kill each other; and the capacity to kill each other; and the capacity to kill is, by us, called progress. Is this progress? Question: Some say `Cruelty, thy name is woman?' Krishnamurti: Is this a conundrum or a puzzle that you are asking me? Do you know what a conundrum is? It is a puzzling question which you have to think over and work out. Why do you bother about all this? You see, first we read something in a book and then we try to work it out. Some say `Mystery, thy name is woman.' What does that mean? Women are not so mysterious in their organisms, are they? The real mystery is not that. But we are satisfied with superficial mysteries, we like a conjurer, a dark room, mysterious people. We look for mysteries. But, there are no mysteries. What we think are mysteries are all inventions of the mind. If you can understand the workings of the mind and go beyond them, there is the real mystery. But very few of us go beyond and reach that mystery. You are all satisfied with the superficial mysteries of a detective story or of a shrine. If one can understand the workings of one's own mind and go beyond that, then one will find extraordinary things. Question: How do we dream? Krishnamurti: Do you have dreams? What kind of dreams do you have? If you go to bed with a full stomach, you have some kind of dream. There are various kinds of dreams. What do you think dreams are? A dream is a very complex thing. Even while you are awake, while you are wandering along a street or sitting quietly, you may be dreaming because your mind thinks of various things. You may be sitting here but you think you are in your home and you imagine what your mother is doing, or what your father is doing, or what your younger brother is doing at home. That is a kind of dream, is it not? Though you are sitting quietly, your mind is off, imagining, speculating, wandering 47 Similarly, when you are asleep, your mind goes off imagining, wandering, speculating. Then there are dreams born out of your deep unconscious. And there are dreams which foretell, which give you a warning, which give you hints. It is possible for human beings to have no dreams at all but to sleep very profoundly and, in that deep profundity, to discover something which no conscious or unconscious mind can ever discover, an intimation of something which no mind can ever conjure up. The mind is such an extraordinary thing. You spend eighteen or twenty years learning the same subjects and passing several examinations; but you do not spend an hour or even ten minutes to understand this extraordinary thing called the mind. Without understanding the mind, your passing examinations, your getting jobs, or your becoming a minister, has very little meaning. It is the mind that creates illusions; and if you do not understand the maker of illusions, your life has little meaning. Do you understand all the things that I am talking about? The difficulty is I am speaking in English. But I doubt very much whether you would understand even if I speak in Hindi. You would understand the words, but not the meaning, the implications that lie behind the words. You have to find out the implications by asking your teachers or your parents. What I have said is a question of your whole existence. It is not enough to find out for a day or two, you have to find out the implications as you live, throughout life. But you cannot live, you cannot find out if you are merely driven by ambition, by fear. To find out, there must be a sensitivity, a freedom in the psyche; and all that is denied, if you do not understand the workings of your mind. Question: How should we think out any problem? Krishnamurti: That is quite an intelligent question - how should we think out a problem? What is the answer to a problem? Most people want an answer to a problem. But that boy wants to know how to think out a problem - which is quite different. He is not looking for an answer, at least I hope not. There is no answer at all to a problem, and so it is foolish to seek an answer. But if I know how to think out a problem, then the answer is the very thinking out of the problem. Look, Sirs. You have a mathematical problem. You do not know the answer but the answer is at the end of the book; so, you keep turning to the end of the book to find the answer. But life is not like that. Nobody is going to give you the answer. If anybody gives you the answer, he is stupid. But if you know how to think out a problem, how to look at it, how to approach it, the very thinking, the very looking at it, is the solution. You want to know how to think out a problem. The first thing, obviously, is not to be afraid of the problem. You understand? Because, if you are afraid, you won't look, you will run away from it. The second thing is not to condemn it, not to say how terrible, how awful, how miserable it is. Then, not to compare that problem with any other problem or have a comparative value when you approach that problem. This is a bit difficult. When you have a problem, if you have already got a clear judgment and an answer to that problem you do not understand the problem So, to understand the problem, there must be no comparison, no fear, no judgment; those are the essential things which will help you to understand the problem. There is really no problem but what is created by comparison fear and judgment. Please discuss all this with your teachers and amongst yourselves. Let these ideas, let these words, go through your mind, so that you are familiar with all these issues. Then, you will be able to face the problems of life. January 13, 1954 BANARAS, INDIA 14TH JANUARY 1954 9TH TALK TO STUDENTS AT RAJGHAT SCHOOL We have been discussing for several days the question of fear. We shall now consider what I think is one of our greatest difficulties: how to prevent the mind from becoming imitative. We see there are obvious imitations - copying, learning a thing, eating in a certain way, putting on certain clothes, learning to ride a bicycle or a motor, learning a technique and so on. These are the superficial, the obvious imitations which are necessary, which are useful and essential. But, through tradition, the mind becomes an instrument which merely functions in the groove of imitation. Perhaps I am going to talk of something that is difficult. If you find it difficult, talk it over with your teacher. Ask them questions, because it is very important to free the mind from crystallising, from becoming dull, from merely functioning as a machine without much creative release. It is very important to understand how the mind creates for itself tradition - the tradition which has been imposed upon it, through social, environmental pressures, or the tradition created by conditions, patterns, barriers. The way of imitation, is what we have to think about, and not how to free the mind or how the mind can free itself from its own imitative process. For most of us, experience is tradition, experience becomes a tradition. Do you understand what I mean by `experience'? You see a tree; the seeing, the perception creates an experience, does it not? You see a car; the very seeing is the experiencing, and the experience creates a tradition. Your mind is bound by tradition, tradition being memory; and the older the people, the older the race, the more oppressive are the traditions. The mind lives in tradition, functions in tradition, acts in tradition. The mind becomes an imitative mind, because it is experiencing all the time -seeing a bird, seeing a man, seeing a woman, having pain, seeing death and disease, seeing an aeroplane, a bullock cart, a donkey with a huge bundle on its back, an over loaded camel, or a bull charging at another. All these are experiences. When the mind is stirred up, it creates, out of every experience, a tradition, a memory; and so, the mind becomes a factor of imitation. The problem is: to be really free from imitation, from the accumulation of tradition, because without that freedom there is no creativity. Practically everybody in the world has so little freedom to live, to create, to be. I do not mean having children or writing a few poems, but the creative release of the mind in freedom from tradition, freedom from the experience which makes for tradition, freedom from memory. This is, as I said, rather difficult; but you should listen to all this, as you would listen to music as you would see the beauty of the river and the lovely trees that are old and heavy and full of shade. You should see all this as you see the beautiful pictures in a museum, the lovely statues of the Greeks and of the Egyptians. Similarly you should listen to all this and if you are at all serious, at all enquiring, you have to come to this freedom, because an imitative mind, a traditional mind can never be creative. You function in tradition because you are afraid of what people say, of what the neighbours, or your parents or your guardians, or your priests, say. You are afraid. So you act in the old way of thinking. You are a Brahmin or something else and you keep on being the same till you die, moving in the same circle, in the same pattern, in the same framework. That is not freedom. The mind is not then free from thought which is born of experience, of traditions, of memory; it is anchored in the past and therefore it cannot be free. We talk a great deal about freedom of thought. There are books written about how thought must be free. But thought can never be free. The mind is experiencing all the time, consciously or unconsciously, whether you are looking out of the window, or whether you have closed your eyes, or whether you are sleeping. it is experiencing various influences, the pressure of people, of climate, of food. Various beliefs and thoughts keep on impinging on the mind; the mind keeps on accumulating and, from that accumulation, from that tradition, from the innumerable memories, it acts. To expect such a mind to be free is like telling a man who is dying to be free. A dying man can never be free, he can never see anything new, because of his memory. Memory is the result of yesterday; and to see anything new, to create anything totally new, that which is anchored to the past, that which is the past, must come to an end; then only there can be freedom to think. Of course, you must have freedom to think; but tradition, governments, party politics - these do not allow you to think. They want you to think in a particular direction, and that thinking is a limited thing. To break away from it and to think differently is still limited. Say, for instance, I am a Mussulman and I break away from the Mussulman habits, traditions, habits of thought, and become a Christian or a communist. Such a breaking away is still thinking; it is still the process of imitation, the process of experience, the process of memory; and to think in the new pattern of the communist instead of the old pattern of the Mussulman is still limited thinking. So, our question is: `Can the mind be free', not free from experience but be free to experience and not accumulate? To be free from experience is not possible; you might as well be dead. Can the mind, in the very experiencing, cease to create tradition? Suppose you see a nice, new, polished bicycle with chromium handles; you see the beauty of the design, you see the polish and you are attracted; you want it and you get it. The very getting of a cycle is an experience to you, and that experience is stamped in your mind, and you say `It is mine'. You polish it for a few days or weeks and then forget about it. But it has created in your mind, the experience which has become a tradition, and that tradition holds your mind; then, from that, you want a car; if you have a car, you want an aeroplane if you are rich enough to buy one, and so on and on, all within the field of imitation. This movement from wanting a cycle to wanting a jet plane is still in the same pattern, this is not freedom. Freedom comes when the mind experiences without creating tradition. Do not say `How is that possible'? `How can I do it'? When you ask such a question you have already created the pattern. `The how' means the pattern. `The how' implies the way of getting towards that pattern, and in the very process of copying the method, the mind has created tradition and has been caught in it. So, there is no `how' to freedom, there is no way to freedom. But if you merely observe, see and be conscious of the way the mind experiences and creates tradition and is caught in it, if you just be aware of it and realize the process, out of that realization, comes something entirely different, a freedom which is not tethered to experience. This is important to understand because, in schools, in our education, all we are taught is the cultivation of memory, the learning of formulae; the mind is trained only in the process of imitation. When you read History, when you learn Science, Physics, Philosophy or Psychology, the teacher is merely functioning in imitation; you learn from him and you also imitate. So, from childhood till you die, this process of imitation, this cultivation of memory goes on. You are just living in a groove of imitation, of tradition. That is all you know, that is your culture and so there are very few creative human beings. To drop all that, to see whether memory is essential, or whether it is a detriment, a hindrance - that is the function of education. But we begin at the wrong end; we first cultivate memory and then say `How am I to get to the other'? But if the other was emphasized or talked about, seen, investigated, felt - which is real education - then the leaning of some technique for some particular job becomes immaterial, though necessary. Is not the function of education primarily to free the mind from its own experiences that are conditioned, so that there can be creative life, that creative something which we call God or truth? Question: Why do we hate anybody and from where does this feeling of hatred come into being? Krishnamurti: Why does one hate and from where does this feeling come? Why does one hate? Do you hate anybody? Or, is it merely an academic question, just a casual question? Do you dislike anybody? I am sure you do. First of all, you dislike some persons because they have done some harm to you, they have insulted you, they have called you names, or they have taken away your toy, or you do not like their face, or they do not smile nicely, or they are crude, vulgar, heavy. So, your natural reaction is to say `Do not come near me'. That is just a natural reaction, is it not? There is nothing wrong in this. To condemn anything is the most stupid form of action. You must not condemn hatred, but examine how dislike, hatred, comes into being. If you say `To hate is wrong, it is stupid', then it is your condemnation that is stupid. But if you begin to question how dislike comes into being, like a flower in sunshine, then you can do something. If you merely condemn it and push it aside, it is still there. You dislike for many many reasons. It may be because of a personal reason - because you have been hurt, you have been called names, or something has been taken away from you, or you have been humiliated, or you feel jealous, envious of another and you hate the other. You may dislike somebody who is nice clean, nice looking, because you are no that, you want to be like that but you are not. You have asked how hatred comes into being. I am trying to show you how it comes into being. You plant a tender tree; another boy comes along and pulls it out; and you dislike that boy because something which you love, which you care for has been destroyed. Our life, from childhood up to old age, is a constant process of envy, jealousy, hatred and frustration, a sense of loneliness, of ugliness. But if the teacher, the parent, the educator, took the trouble to show to the student how hatred comes into being, not that it is right or wrong, not how to get over it - that is all a stupid way of dealing with it - but to create intelligence, to bring about clarity so that the student will see how hatred comes into being; he will then see the conflict within himself, which is an indication that he himself is struggling, fighting, and that fighting will lead nowhere. The understanding of all these problems and of the whole process involved therein is education. Question: How to be free from indignation? Krishnamurti: What do you mean by indignation? You mean when a man beats a heavily laden donkey, you feel angry? You say you feel righteously angry when some big man beats a little boy. Is there such a thing as righteous indignation? You asked a question, and I am not at all sure you are interested in finding out what it means. Most of us get angry for various reasons and we try to find out after getting angry how to get over it. But what is important is to find the way of anger, how it comes into being and to stop it before the poison takes place. You understand what I am saying? How anger arises is our problem, not how to be free from anger, do you understand? I feel jealous, because you have something which I have not got; your wife is more beautiful than mine and I feel jealous; I struggle and I feel most ugly to myself, I feel bitter with myself. Then I say `I must not be angry, I must conquer anger. How am I to do it?' As I do not know how to prevent it, how to prevent the arising of jealousy, how to put an end to the feeling before it arises, I go to some guru. The problem is still there. Is it possible to understand how jealousy arises so that the feeling does not arise? You know, it is much better to eat healthy food and be healthy rather than to eat wrong food fall ill and go then to the doctor. We eat wrong food all the time; then we take pills or go to the doctor. But if we took the right food, we would never need to go to the doctor. So, what I am saying is: `Let us find out how to eat right food, how to look at all this, so that these problems do not arise.' Surely education is this, the prevention of the problem rather than finding a cure for it. Question: Does constant suffering destroy man's sensitivity and intelligence? Krishnamurti: What do you think? A mind that is constantly occupied with something, with puja, with following somebody, with suffering, with a theory, with a philosophy, with its own sorrow, with its own beauty, with its own suffering, with its own failures and successes - surely such a mind becomes insensitive. You know, if your mind, if your attention, is fixed on something all the time you have no occasion to look around. Can such a mind be sensitive? `To be sensitive' implies to be looking all around, to see beauty, ugliness, death, sorrow, pain, joy.' So, a mind that is suffering obviously becomes insensitive, because suffering is its occupation; the mind uses suffering as a means for its own protection. My son dies. or my husband dies and I am left alone; I have no companion and I feel my life has been blotted out. So I keep on suffering, and my mind now is not concerned with freedom from suffering; but I make suffering into another means of my existence. You understand? The mind uses suffering as it uses joy to enrich itself, because the mind thinks that without being occupied it is poor, it is empty, dull. This very occupation of the mind creates its own destruction. Sorrow is not a thing to be occupied with, any more than joy. The mind must understand why there is sorrow, and not keep on being occupied with sorrow. The mind wants security, whether it is in suffering or in joy. So, sorrow becomes the way of security. This is not a harsh thing I am saying; for, if you think about it, if you look into it, you will see how the mind plays a trick on itself. It is only the unoccupied mind that is intelligent, that is sensitive. It is no use asking how the mind can be unoccupied. In the very `how' the mind is playing a trick on itself. Question: How can one differentiate between memory that is essential and memory that is detrimental? Krishnamurti: The mind creates through experience, tradition, memory. Can the mind be free from storing up, though it is experiencing? You understand the difference? What is required is not the cultivation of memory but the freedom from the accumulative process of the mind. You hurt me, which is an experience; and I store up that hurt; and that becomes my tradition; and from that tradition, I look at you, I react from that tradition. That is the everyday process of my mind and your mind. Now, is it possible that, though you hurt me, the accumulative process does not take place. The two processes are entirely different. If you say harsh words to me, it hurts me; but if that hurt is not given importance, it does not become the background from which I act; so it is possible that I meet you afresh. That is real education, in the deep sense of the word. Because, then, though I see the conditioning effects of experience, the mind is not conditioned. Question: But why does the mind accumulate? Krishnamurti: You have asked the question `Why does the mind accumulate?' Why do you think it accumulates? Listen to this carefully. Do you know the answer? Are you waiting for me to answer, so that you can say `yes'? If you do not wait for an answer from me, then the problem, `why does the mind accumulate?', brings about a creativity in you. There is the problem, `why does the mind accumulate?' You have asked it because you do not know the answer. But if you are actually confronted with the problem, your mind becomes alert and has to find an answer. The asking of that question therefore awakens your own initiative, your creativity; and a release to find out comes out of you and that awakens the capacity to discover, to have the initiative, to be creative, to have a totally different outlook. The problem is `why does the mind accumulate'? Please look at the problem. Probably some religious book or some teacher or some psychologist has told you why the mind accumulates. Whether it has been said by Ramanuja or by Sankara or by Jesus, it is what other people have said, it is not your discovery. Do you understand? You have to discover. For you to discover, what other people have said must be put aside. Must it not? So, you have to put aside all that you have been told about it, all that you have read about it. Then, you can find out why the mind accumulates. To begin very simply, why do you accumulate clothes? For convenience, is it not? Apart from the necessity which is convenience, you also feel the gratification that goes with having many clothes, the feeling that you have a cupboard full of clothes, the feeling from which you get a sense of well-being, a sense of security. First there is a necessity which is convenience; from convenience it becomes a psychological elation; and from that feeling, the cupboard of clothes gives you the sense of `I have got something, I am somebody.' The cupboard is your security. So, the mind gathers knowledge, information, reads a great deal, talks a great deal, knows a great deal. So, knowledge, this gradual storing up in the cupboard of your mind becomes your security. Is it not so? So, the mind accumulates because it wants to feel safe? Don't you feel very proud that you know lots of things? You know History, Science, Mathematics. You know how to drive a car. Does not the capacity to do something give you security and satisfaction? That is why the mind accumulates. When you cultivate the virtue of being good or kind or loving or being generous, the cultivation is the process of accumulation and in that accumulation which you call virtue, you feel very secure. Your mind is all the time gathering in order to be secure, to be safe. It has various cupboards. It has always a cupboard in which it can feel completely safe. But such a mind is an imitative mind, an uncreative mind. If you watch the mind in operation and understand the process of accumulation, then your mind will cease to collect. You will have memory because it is necessary. But you will not use it to feel secure, to feel that you are somebody. There are memories which are necessary. It is stupid to say `I have built bridges for 35 years and, now, I must forget how to build a bridge'. I was talking of the process of the accumulation of the mind, from which tradition, the background, is built, from which thought arises. Such and it is only when the mind has no accumulation and there is no thinking from accumulation, that his mind can be creative. Question: Why does a man leave society and become a sannyasi? Krishnamurti: You know life is complicated and so one wants a simple life. The more cultured, the more beautiful, the more watchful, the more alert one is, the greater is one's demand for a simple life. I am not talking of the phony sannyasi who merely puts on coloured robes and has a beard, but of the real sannyasi who sees the complexity of life and puts it aside. Unfortunately, this sannyasi begins at the wrong end. Simplicity is at the other end. The two ends must meet together. You cannot begin from the outer. The feeling of simplicity arises, comes into being, when the mind is free of accumulation. Generally, a sannyasi who leaves the world, says `The world is too stupid, too complicated; there are too many things to worry about, the family, the children and the jobs that they will get or will not get, and so on,. So, he says `I won't have anything to do with all this', and he withdraws from the so-called worldly life. He puts on a saffron cloth and says `I have renounced the world'. But he is still a human being with all his sexual and other appetites, with all his prejudices, with all his illusions. So, his mere renouncing of the world is nothing. How easily we are deceived! We think we leave the `worldly life' by merely putting a saffron cloth, which is the easiest thing to do. But simplicity comes only in understanding the complex process of desire, of belief, of pain, of sorrow, of envy, of accumulation. One may have much of worldly possessions or little; one may have children or no children. Simplicity does not lie in possessing little. The understanding of inward beauty brings simplicity, the inward richness. And without that inward richness, the mere giving up of some possessions or putting on of a yellow robe means nothing. Do not be deceived by saffron or yellow robes. Do not worship the mere outward show of renunciation, which has no meaning. What has meaning can never be had, can never be learnt, from another. You can find it yourself when you are really simple -when you have, not the ashes of outward renunciation, but the inward freedom from all conflicts suppressions, ambitions, imitations. Such a person is really a creative human being who will really help the world - not a sannyasi who sits, caught in his own dreams, on the bank of a river. January 14, 1954 BANARAS, INDIA 15TH JANUARY 1954 10TH TALK TO STUDENTS AT RAJGHAT SCHOOL I do not know if you have found that fear is a very strange thing. Most of us have fear of some kind or another, and it lurks behind so many forms, it hides behind so many virtues. Without really understanding the cause of fear, the root of fear, all feeling for beauty merely becomes imitative. Without understanding the deeper layers of fear, there is very little significance in the appreciation of beauty. For most of us, the appreciation of beauty is tinged with envy, and so is the desire for beauty. You know what envy is - to be envious of somebody, to be envious of another's capacity, his position, his prestige, the way he looks, the way he walks? For most of us, envy is the basis of our actions; remove envy and we feel we are lost. All our effort is towards success, and in that there is envy; behind that envy there is fear. Fear is the drive, the motive, the spirit, which moves us. Without really understanding the significance of fear and envy, we only create social and moral imitators. So, I think it is very important to understand this thing we call envy. If you watch your own mind in operation, your own activities, you will find that there is hardly any moment which is not towards something, towards the more, towards the greater, towards the desire for wider experience. The moment there is comparison there must be envy. When I want more, not only of the mundane things, of the worldly things but also of love, of beauty, of inward richness, the very movement towards the more, towards the end, towards the thing which you are going to get, has envy behind it. After all, beauty is something not tinged with envy, beauty is something which is in itself. You do not become more beautiful or more good - which are all the movements of envy. But you have to understand `what is', as things are - which does not mean you are satisfied with things as they are. The moment you enter into satisfaction and dissatisfaction, there is envy. You can understand the thing as it is, whatever you are, only when you do not compare; because in comparison, there is also envy. To understand `what is' seems to me to be the real creative beauty of life, and not the mere getting some where in virtue or in respectability or in power or in position. But all our education, all our thinking, instinctively is towards the more, which we call progress. It is, I think, very important to understand this while we are young, while we are not caught in the wood of responsibility, of family, of jobs, of position, of activity, of undertakings done blindly and foolishly. Is it not the function of education to free the mind from the comparative? You understand what I mean by that? You see, our education, our social life, our religious aspirations, are all based on this urge for the more - the more spiritual life, more happiness, more money, more knowledge, greater virtue - a perfect ideal towards which I go and you go. We are brought up in that atmosphere and so we never discover what we are, `what actually is'. We are always trying to become something else. We are always trying to become noble, to become a hero, an example, an ideal; and if we really go behind this urge to become, we will find that there is envy and that behind that envy there is fear, the fear of what one is. We begin to cover up what we are, with all these outward and inward movements which we call progress, which we call `becoming'. It is very difficult for the mind not to think in terms of becoming, of moving towards the greater, the wider, the more extensive activities; and that movement is based on fear and envy. But there is a totally different movement which is real creativity and real understanding, namely, the movement of the understanding of `what is', what you actually are. In that movement, you do not change `what is' but you understand `what is'. We are accustomed to think in terms of getting somewhere, of achieving, of success, of changing this into that - of changing violence into non-violence which is an ideal. I am inwardly poor and I want to find the inner riches which are incorruptible. That is the movement we know; in that movement, we are brought up, we are nurtured we are conditioned. In that movement, if you observe, there is envy, there is fear, the fear of not being what one wants to be. The urge to become has created this society, this culture, these religions. Our culture is based on envy. Our religion as we practise it, as we think of it, as we know it, is the worship of success in a distant future. So, this movement is based on envy, acquisitiveness and fear. Is it not the function of education to break up that movement and to bring about a totally different activity which is the understanding of `what is', as one actually is? In this activity, there is no fear, there is no envy, no desire to become something. This activity is the initiative of the thing as it is. The movement of envy leads to utter discontent and disintegration. Let me put it very simply. I am aggressive, violent; and I am told from childhood that I must change that, that I must become non-violent, non-aggressive, that I must have love. All this is a movement towards transformation of `what is', and that movement is based on envy, on fear, because I want to change `what I am' into something else. But if I see the truth of that movement which is envy and in which there is fear, then I can see what I am. When I see I am aggressive, I do not change `what I am', but I watch the movement of aggression. In that watching there is no fear, there is no compulsion. The very watching of `what I am' brings about a totally different activity. That is surely the function of education, that is creation. Creative activity requires a great deal of perception, insight and understanding. Because, it does not emphasize the self-centred activity of the mind. At present, all our activities emphasize self-centredness, from which spring our social and economic difficulties and miseries. Everyone can observe these two movements in oneself. In the observation of the two, there is the dropping away of all activity based on fear and envy, and there is only the other activity which is creative, in which there is initiative and beauty. Question: What is experience? Krishnamurti: When you watch yourself, is it not an experience? When you put on a kurta, is that not an experience? When you watch the boat going down the river, is that not an experience? When you cry, when you laugh, when you are jealous, when you want to possess something and want to push others aside, is it not an experience? Living is experience. But, we want to keep the experiences which are pleasant and to avoid experiences which are unpleasant. That is not life. The choice between the pleasant and the unpleasant is not living. Life is everything from the dark clouds to the marvellous sunset; life is the whole thing which you can watch death, the song of birds, the green fields and the barren earth, the fears, the laughters, the struggles. But, we generally view life differently; we say `This is life', `That is not life', `This is beautiful', `That is not beautiful', `I am going to hold to the beautiful and push away the ugly', `I am unhappy, I want happiness'. When we begin to choose, there is death. If you really think about all this, you will see that when the mind chooses between that which is pleasant and that which is unpleasant, and holds on to one and discards the other, then deterioration takes place, then death comes in. But to see this whole process in movement, to be aware of it totally without any choice, stirs the mind, and frees it from its self-enclosing activities of choice. A mind that is free from choice is wise, intelligent, capable of infinite depth. Listen to all this. These are not mere words to be listened to and put aside. Experience of various kinds are impinging all the time on our minds, and our minds now are only capable of choice, choosing one experience and holding on to it and discarding another experience. When a mind retains an experience, from that experience it creates a tradition; and that tradition becomes choice and action. A mind that is merely caught in choice, can never find out what truth is. So, it is only the mind that sees the whole movement of darkness and of light, that is highly sensitive, intelligent. It is only then that that which we call God can come to be. You have been listening for some days to all that has been said. Are you aware of what is taking place in you, how your mind thinks, how your mind watches things and people around. Are you watching more, seeing more, feeling more? Are you aware of all this? Do you understand what I am talking about? Are you aware of what is going on within yourself, in your mind, in your feelings? Do you observe a tree? Do you ever watch the river? Do you see how you are looking at the river? What are the thoughts that come into your mind, as you watch that river? If you are not aware of all that is going on in your mind, when you see something, then you will never know the operations of your mind, the workings of your mind; and without knowing them, you are not educated, You may have a few alphabets after your name, but that is not education. To be educated, you have to find out if your mind functions in tradition, if it is caught in the usual habitual routine. Do you do things because your parents want you to do them. Do you put on a sacred thread merely because that is the custom? Do you go to the temple to do puja because you have been told to, or because you have been meditating, or because you like it? Surely, all this indicates the operation of your mind, does it not? And without knowing that, how can you be educated? The brain is an astounding thing if you watch it. There must be millions and millions of cells in it, and it must be a very complex mechanism. It must be most complex and concentrated, because when I ask you a question, when I look at things, the mind goes through such a lot to produce an answer. You understand what I am talking about? If I ask you where you live, how quickly your mind operates! See the astounding rapidity of memory! If you are asked a question which you do not know, again look at what the mind goes through. We are so rich in ourselves; but without knowing that richness, without knowing all its beauty, its complexity, we want every other richness - the richness of position, of office, of travel, of comfort, of knowledge - but these are all trivial riches compared to this thing. To know how the mind works and to go beyond it seems, to me, to be real education. The lady says that when we are confronted with something complex, when there is a problem, our mind becomes blank. Does your mind become blank? Do you understand what I am asking you? Look sir, your mind is ceaselessly active, it is in constant movement. When you open your eyes, you have various impressions and the mind is receiving all these impressions - the light, the pictures, the windows, the green leaves, the movement of the animals and people. When you close your eyes, there is the inward movement of thought. So, the mind is constantly active; there is never a moment when it is still. That is the mind, not only at the superficial level but also deep down. You know, after all, the Ganga is not just the surface water on which you see the ripples and the beauty of the sunshine; there is also the great depth of it, about 60 feet of water below the surface. The mind is not just the superficial expression of annoyance, of pleasure, of desires, of joy and frustration; but deep down, there is the whole mind, and all that is in movement all the time - asking questions, doubting, being frustrated, longing. When that movement is confronted with something which does not answer, it is shocked into paralysis for a second or two, and then it begins to act. Have you not noticed when you see a beautiful thing, a beautiful mountain, a lovely river, a beautiful smile, how your mind becomes quiet? It is too much for the mind; for a second, it is still; and then it begins to function. That is the case with most of us. Seeing that, is it possible for the mind to be still the whole way, not just at one level? Can your mind be totally still all the time, not through the shock of beauty or pain, not with any purpose because the moment you have purpose, there is fear and envy behind it - but be totally still, deep down and also on the surface? You can only find out, you cannot answer `yes' or `no'. There is real freedom when the mind right through knows its activities, its shades, its lights, its movements, its deliberations, its elations. The very knowing, by the mind, of all its movements from deep down to the top, the very seeing of it all, is the stilling of the mind. All this has to be very intelligently thought out, watched for, unearthed, so that you know the whole thing that is the mind, so that you are aware of the whole process; then only is the mind really still. Question: What is jealousy? Krishnamurti: Don t you know what jealousy is? When you have a toy and the other person has a bigger toy, don't you want that bigger toy? When you have a small bicycle and you see a big beautiful bicycle, don't you want that? That is jealousy. On that jealousy, people live, exploit, multiply. Please, the teacher who is responsible for that boy's education, will please listen and please explain this to him. Take the time and the trouble to point out what jealousy is, if you understand what jealousy is, yourself. Jealousy begins in a small way and then one gets drawn into a stream of action, clothed under so many names. We all know jealousy. That little boy wants to know what jealousy is. Do not say it is wrong or right, do not condemn it. Do not tell him it is not desirable to be jealous, that jealousy is ugly, evil. What is evil is your condemnation of it, not jealousy itself. Please explain to him the whole business of jealousy, how it arises how our society is based on jealousy, how instincts are based on it, how it shapes all our actions. You do not condemn a map, you do not say the road should be that way. You do not say that the villages should be here or should not be there. The villages are there. Similarly you must explain, must look at jealousy and not try to push it aside, not try to transform it, not try to make it idealistic. Jealousy is jealousy. You cannot make it into something else. But if you can look at it, understand it, then it gets transformed; you do not have to do a thing about it. If you could explain this deeply to every boy and girl, we will produce quite a different generation. Question: Why do we want to show off ourselves that we are something? Krishnamurti: Why do you want to assure yourself that you are something? Why do I want to be sure that I am something? Why do you think? You know, the Maharaja wants to show that he is something. He shows off his cars, his titles, his position, his riches. The professor the Pundit, as, assures himself that he is somebody through his knowledge. You also want to show that you are somebody in your class, with your friends. It is the same thing on a small scale or a big scale. Why do we do that? Please listen to what I am saying. If you are inwardly rich, there is no need to show off, because that in itself is beautiful. Because inwardly we fear we have nothing, we put on lots of airs. The sannyasi does it; the prime ministers and the rich men do it. Strip them of their power, their money, their position; they are dull, stupid empty. So a person who wants to show off, who wants to be assured that he is somebody, or who tells himself that he is somebody, is really very empty. You know, it is like a drum; you keep on beating it to make a noise, and the noise is the showing off, the assurance that you are somebody. But the drum in itself has no noise, it has to be beaten to produce the noise; in itself, it is empty. In yourself, you are empty, dull, uncreative; and because you are nothing, you want to assure yourself that you are somebody. That is the movement of envy. But if you said `Yes, I am empty I am poor', and from there begin, not to change but to understand it, to go into it to delve deeply into it, then you will find riches that are incorruptible. In that movement, there is no assurance that you are somebody, because you are nobody. The man who is really nobody, who is nothing in himself, is the only truly happy man. Question: You have been talking all these days, with the idea of bringing about a change in our lives. If you want us to think differently, how is it different from the attitude we have been having so far, to be something which we are not today? Krishnamurti: The question needs to be made simpler. Your question is: `You want us to change and in what way is that different from our own desire to change in the old pattern'? Do I want you to change? If you change because I want you to change, then that change is the movement of envy, of fear, of reward and punishment. That is, you are this and you want to change into that because, you are being persuaded by me to change into that - which is the movement of jealousy, of fear, of envy. If I realize what I am, just realize without any desire to change, without any desire to condemn, if I just be that, just see that, then from that there is a totally different action. But to bring about that totally different action, the other movement - the movement of envy, fear, of condemnation, of comparison - must cease. Is that clear? Question: At present, we are not thinking in the way that you are thinking. You are talking to us with a view to making us see that way of thinking. Is that not so? Is that not a change that you would like us to bring about in us? There is only a subtle difference between the two. We are not thinking in the way you are thinking, because we do not take life in the way you are taking it. Krishnamurti: The way we generally think is the way in which we have been brought up; in that pattern, in that groove, in that framework. Now, when you realize your thinking is conditioned, is there not a breaking up of that condition? When I realize that I am thinking in terms of communism or catholicism or Hindu- ism, is there not a breaking away from that? That is all I am talking about. There is a breaking away which is quite a different movement from habitual thinking in which there is no change. When we talk of change, we mean we must change from this to that. When we change from `this' to `that', `that' is already the known; therefore, it is not change. When I change from greed to non-greed, the non-greed is my formulation, is my idea. Therefore, I already know the state of non-greed. Therefore when I say I must change greed into non-greed, the movement is still within the field of the known from one known to another known. Do you see that? Therefore, it is not change at all. Please listen, all of you. It is not that gentleman alone who is asking the question but all of us are involved in this. When we talk about change, about revolution, changing from `this' to `that', `that' is the state we already know; therefore it is not change. When I change from Hinduism to Catholicism, I know what Catholicism is. It is a thing I want. I do not like this and I like that. That which I like is already what I know. Therefore, it is the same thing only in a different form. What I am talking about is not change, but the cessation of the desire to change and the movement from that - which does not mean I am content with `what is'. There must be the cessation of the desire to change from the known to what I think is the unknown but which is really the known. If that movement ceases, then there is a totally different activity. January 15, 1954 BANARAS, INDIA 18TH JANUARY 1954 11TH TALKS TO STUDENTS AT RAJGHAT SCHOOL I think we ought to talk about something of which some of us may be aware, namely, the peculiar desire for power over others and over oneself which most of us have. I think that power is one of the deeper desires behind which really lies that fear which comes from a sense of loneliness, a sense of frustration. What I am saying may be difficult, but please listen. If one can understand this and go beyond, then there is a different kind of state in which love is. If one has not that love, life becomes dull, weary, empty, and shallow. I think it is important to understand this thing that we call power - not electric power or steam power, not the capacity to do something efficiently - which are all necessary. I am talking of something which is of greater significance and of much deeper value, and without understanding which, efficiency, the capacity of doing things, becomes a means of creating greater misery, greater suffering for man. Most of us desire some kind of power; it may be over the son, or the wife or the husband; or, it may be over a group of people; or it may be in the name of an ideal or in the name of a country. This power, this desire to have power over others, is always operating -even over a servant, to order him about, to get angry with him, to push him around. Does not this desire for power spring from a sense of loneliness? Have you ever felt lonely? You know what it is to be alone, to have no friends, to be completely alone, to be an isolated being? To have no friend, no sense of anyone on whom you can rely or whom you can trust, is to be in a state of complete self-isolation. Probably, you have not felt it. Most of you avoid it, run away from it. You are only awakened to it in a great crisis, in death; but you run away from it. Without understanding this emptiness, the mere control of power leads to every form of frustration. Probably, it is very difficult to understand all this while one is young; but one should talk a great deal about it because when one grows older, one begins to have power over others and over oneself. The sannyasi wants to have power over himself, and so he controls himself through asceticism; that gives him a sense of power, a sense of domination over himself and over his desires. His wanting only a few things for himself creates in him an extraordinary sense of power, a power which is self-centred. And you also demand power over others and, in that, you feel a great sense of release, of happiness, of delight. You feel capable of dominating several thousands of people, through ideas, through political power, through words. Fear lies behind all this urge for power. After all, when you compare yourself with somebody, with an idea, with a person, with an example, does not the desire for power lie behind that comparison? I have no power, no position, no capacity; and if I can imitate a hero, copy him, I shall become powerful, I shall be somebody. So, the very desire to be somebody, the copying, the imitation, the comparison, gives me a sense of power. I think it is very important, while we are young, to understand this thing, because that is what almost everyone is seeking in the world. The clerk wants power over his under-clerk and the boss has innumerable employees over whom he has power. The ministers have power to give position or to give prestige, and they have the means of controlling others. The whole structure of society is based on this and we think we can use power as a means of changing people's lives. The very possession of power is a great delight. The man in power says, `I am doing this for the sake of the country', `I am doing this for the sake of an idea'? When he says this, he is conscious that he is in a position of authority and that he is controlling people. When you are being educated, when you are at school or college, this thing has to be understood. You have to see if you can live in this world without dominating people, without controlling people, without shaping their minds. Because, after all, each one of us is as important as the politician, the wielder of power; each one of us wants to grow in freedom so that we can be what we are, so that we can understand what we are and, from that, act so that we are not imposed upon by society or by our teachers or by our parents or by any other person who is trying to dominate and shape our particular lives. It is very difficult to withstand all this because we ourselves, each one of us, want power. The teacher wants to become the Principal, because the Principal has power over so many people and he has more money. When you are controlled by another through money, through position, through status, the feeling that you are an individual, a human being, a single unit, is completely denied, destroyed. Whereas, it seems to me, it is very important in a school of this kind, that we should create a feeling that this is our school, yours and mine, in the sense that you, as a student, are as important as the teacher or the Principal. This feeling of ourness does not exist anywhere in the world, the feeling that this is our earth, yours and mine, not the Russians' or the Americans' or the English or the Africans', the feeling that it is our world, not a communist world or a socialist world or a capitalist world, the feeling that it is our earth in which you and I and others can live and be free to find out the whole significance of living. The significance of living and the understanding of it is denied if we are seeking power in any form. The mother has power over the little child and wants him to grow in a certain way. The father says `This is what he should be' and pushes him into a pattern. But, education is surely the freeing of the mind to function in freedom without any twist, without any corruption through power, through comparison. We should create such a school, you and I must create it. Otherwise, you will go out of this school and college just like any other human being, dull, with all your brains stuffed with superficial information; you will not have any clear initiative of your own, but be a machine that is driven by circumstances, by society, by the politician, because each one of you wants power, like the politician. So, even though you may not understand for the time being what I am saying, talk to your teachers, make them explain all this to you that it is our earth where all human beings can live, understand, exercise their capacities, if they have any, without destroying any one. The moment we want to use our capacity to gain power, position, prestige, we destroy. So, we ought to talk about how to create a school at Rajghat where each one of us, the student, the teacher, the members of the Foundation, all together create this place - with you as a student looking after the trees and the roads, feeling and caring for the things that are of the earth, not because it is your school but because it is our earth. I think this is the only spirit that is going to save the world, not clever scientific inventions but the sense that you and I are creating together in a world which is ours. But that is very difficult to come by because, now, everything is mine and not yours, the mine being divided into many classes, many holdings, many functions, many nationalities. That feeling of ourness does not exist in this world. Without that feeling, we will have no peace in the world. Therefore, it is very important that you, while you are young, should understand this and have this feeling, so that when you go out into the world, you can create a new world and a new generation. Question: Why does one feel sad when someone dies, whom one knew, whom one loved? Krishnamurti: Why does one feel sad if some near relation dies? You feel sad when any friend or near relation of yours dies. Do you feel sad for the person who is dead or for yourself? The other person is gone and you are left to face life. With that person, you felt somewhat secure, somewhat happy; you felt a companionship, a friendship. That person is gone and you are left with your insecurity, are you not? You are constantly aware of your loneliness. You are aware that you have been stripped of companionship. There was a person with whom you could talk and express yourself to be what you were. When that person is gone, you feel very sad; out of your loneliness, out of your sense of not having any one to whom you can turn, you feel very sad; but you do not feel sad for the person. Feeling sad you create all kinds of theories, all kinds of beliefs. It is very important, is it not?, to understand this process of dependence. Why does one depend on another? For certain things I depend on the milkman, on the postman, on the man who drives the engine, on the Bank, or on the policeman; but my dependence on these is entirely different from the dependence based on fear and the inward demand for comfort. As I do not know how to live, I am confused, I am lonely, I want someone to help me; I want someone to guide me, some one on whom I can rely, a master, a book, or an idea. So, when that dependence is taken away from me, I feel lost. This sense of loss creates suffering. Is it not important while we are at school, to understand this problem of dependence, so that we may grow without depending on anyone inwardly? That requires a great deal of intelligence a great deal of enquiry. Surely, it is the function of education to help to free the mind from any sense of fear, which makes for dependence. Being dependent, we say `How can I be free from dependence'? But if one understood the process, the ways of dependence, then there would be no problem of how to be free from dependence. The very understanding frees the mind from dependence. Question: What is a star? Krishnamurti: I am sorry I cannot give you a scientific explanation. Have you looked at a star? What do you feel when you look at a star? You can find out what a star is from any scientific book or from your science-teacher. When you look at the sky of an evening and see the many thousands and millions of stars and planets, what do you feel? Do you just look and move away? Most of us do that. We are talking with somebody and we say `Look at the stars and the moon, what a beautiful night!', and go on with our talk. But, if you were alone or with people who are not always chattering or talking, but who want to look at things, then when you look at the stars, what do you feel? Do you feel small in this vast universe, or do you feel that it is part of you, the whole thing - the stars, the moon, the trees and the river? Have you the time to look and find out your own feeling? How difficult it is to look at anything beautiful without the mind interfering, without the mind with its memories saying `This is not such a good night as the other night. It is not as beautiful as it was last year,' `It is too cold I cannot look.' The mind never looks without words, without comparison. It is only when you can look without comparison or without words, that the stars and the earth and the trees and the moon and the light on the water have an extraordinary significance. In that, there is great beauty. To look, without comparison, one has to understand the mind, because it is the mind that looks, it is the mind that interprets what it seeks giving it a name. The very naming of a thing by the mind becomes the way of pushing it away. So, when you look at a star or at a bird, or at a tree, find out what is happening to you as you look, and that will reveal a great deal about yourself. Question: Man has made great progress in the material world. Why is it we do not see progress in other directions? Krishnamurti: It is fairly clear why we make progress in the material world, specially in the new world where there is a great deal of energy a great release of intellectual capacity. When you are colonising a new world you have to invent, you have to struggle. Man has made progress from the bow and arrow to the atom bomb, from the bullock cart to the jet plane that travels about 1600 miles an hour; that is generally called progress. But is there progress in any other direction, inwardly? Have you, as an individual, progressed inwardly? Have you found anything for yourself? We know what other people have said, what other people have found. But have we found anything for ourselves? Are we more charitable, more kind? Are our minds more expansive and alert, inwardly? Have we put away fear? Without that, to make progress in the world, is to destroy ourselves. Question: What is God? Krishnamurti: You know the villager, the peasant; for him, God is that little image before which he puts flowers. Primitive people call Thunder their God, and they worship trees and nature. At one time, man worshipped the apple tree and the olive tree in Europe. There are people in India now who worship trees. You go into a temple. There you see an image, oily, with garlands and jewels; you call that your God and you put flowers and do puja before it. You may go further and create an image in your mind, and an idea that is born of your own tradition, out of your background; and that, you call your God. The man who threw the atom bomb, thought that God was by his side. Every war lord, from Hitler and Kitchner to our little general, invokes God. Is that God? Or, is God something unimaginable, not measurable by our minds? God is something entirely, totally, unfathomable by us, and that comes into being when our minds are quiet, when our minds are not projecting, struggling. When the mind is still, then perhaps we shall know what God is. So, it is very important, while we are young, not to be caught by the word God, not to be told what God is. There are many eager to tell us what God is. But, we must examine what they tell. There are many people who say there is no God. We must not be caught by what they say, but examine it equally carefully. Neither the believer nor the non-believer will ever find God. It is only when the mind is free of belief and non-belief, when the mind is still, that there is a possibility of finding God. We are never told of these things. From childhood, we are told there is God and you repeat there is God. When you go to some guru, he will tell you `There is God. Do this and do that. Repeat this mantram, do that puja, practise such and such discipline, and you will find God.' You may do all this; but what you find will not be God. It will only be your own projection, the projection of what you want. All this is difficult and requires a great deal of thought and enquiry; and that is why, when you are in a school of this kind, you should grow in freedom so that your mind may find out for itself, may discover; then the mind becomes creative, astonishingly alert. Question: Why does a human being suffer, though he does his best with whatever capacity he has? Krishnamurti: Whatever capacity I may possess, in the very doing, why do I feel sad, when I cannot fulfil, when I am not successful in carrying out my intention? Why do you, when you are doing something to the best of your capacity, feel sad? Is it not simple, this question? We are not satisfied with just doing what we love to do. We want what we do to be a success. To us, the doing is not important, but the success, the result, what the doing will bring. When our action is not successful, when it does not bring about what we want, we feel sorrow-laden. The drive for our action is our desire for success, our desire for power, for recognition, for position, for status. We want somebody to tell us how marvellously we have done - which means, really, we never know how to love a thing and to do it just for itself, not for what it will bring. When we do something with an eye on success, on the future on the tomorrow, and when tomorrow does not come, we feel miserable; this is because we never do anything for the love of the thing. There are many among you who are teachers, there are others who are professors or big business people or officials. Why are you in those professions? Not because you love what you do, but because there is nothing else for you to do. So, whatever you do, you want it to be successful. You want to ride on the wave of success and so you are always competing, struggling and so destroying the capacities of the mind. Question: How can we live a life without experience and memory? Krishnamurti: You remember what I said the other day? You want to know how to get rid of memory. That is, you want to find a method, a system. The system, the method, only gives you experience. It cultivates memory. Does it not? When I know how to do a thing, it becomes a habit. If I know how to read and write, the `how' then becomes a part of my memory and, with that memory, I write and I recognise every word, every syllable. What I said the other day was about something entirely different. I said that life is a process of experience and memory. The very living is experience and the experience creates tradition, memory; with that tradition, memory and habit, we live. So, there is never anything new. Is it not possible to live with experience which does not corrupt, which does not merely become a memory with which we look at life? We discussed this very carefully. But one has to go into it over and over again from so many different points, to get the whole meaning of it. Question: Does history prove the existence of God? Krishnamurti: Is it a matter of proof? History may or may not prove that there is or that there is not. Millions say there is God; and millions say equally emphatically there is no God. Each side quotes authority, history, scientific proof. Then, what? The mind is frightened, it wants something to rely on, something on which it can depend. The mind wants something to which it can cling, as permanent. With this desire for permanence, it seeks authority negatively or positively. When it seeks authority in those who say there is no God, it repeats and says `There is no God.' It is perfectly satisfied in that belief. There are those who, seeking permanency, say that there is God. So, the mind clings to that and seeks to prove through history, through books, through other people's experiences, that there is God. But that is not reality, that is not God. The mind must be free from the very beginning to find out what God is. And the mind is not free when it is seeking security, when it is seeking permanency, when it is caught in fear. January 18, 1954 BANARAS, INDIA 19TH JANUARY 1954 12TH TALK TO STUDENTS AT RAJGHAT SCHOOL From childhood, we are brought up to condemn some things or some persons, and to praise others. Have you not heard grown-up people say `This is a naughty boy.'? They think that, by doing that, they have solved the problem. But to understand something requires much insight, a great sense, not of tolerance - tolerance is merely an invention of the mind to justify its activities or other people's activities - but of understanding, a great width of mind, and depth of mind. I would like to talk, this morning, of something which may be rather difficult, but I think it is worthwhile to understand it. Very few of us enjoy anything. We have very little joy in seeing the sunset, or the full moon, or a beautiful person, or a lovely tree, or a bird in flight, or a dance. We do not really enjoy anything. We look at it, we are superficially amused or excited by it, we have a sensation which we call joy. But enjoyment is something far deeper, which must be understood and gone into. When we are young, we enjoy and take delight in things - in games, in clothes, in reading a book, or writing a poem, or painting a picture, or in pushing each other about. But as we grow older, this enjoyment becomes a pain, a travail, a struggle. While we are young, we enjoy food; but as we grow older, we start eating food that is heavily laden with condiments, chillies, and then we lose all taste, the delicacy, the refinement of food. When young, we enjoy watching animals, insects, birds. As we grow older, though we want to enjoy things, the best has gone out of us; we want to enjoy other kinds of sensations -passions, lust, power, position. These are all the normal things of life, though they are superficial; they are not to be condemned, not to be justified, but to be understood and given their right place. If you condemn them as being worthless, as being sensational, stupid or unspiritual, you destroy the whole process of living. It is like saying `My right arm is ugly, I am going to chop it off.' We are made up of all these things. We have to understand everything, not condemn, not justify. As we grow older, the things of life lose their meaning, our mind becomes dull, insensitive; and so, we try to enjoy, we try to force ourselves to look at pictures, to look at trees, to look at little children playing. We read some sacred book or other and try to find its meanings, its depth, its significance. But, it is all an effort, a travail, something to struggle with. I think it is very important to understand this thing called joy, the enjoyment of things. When you see something very beautiful, you want to possess it, you want to hold it, you want to call it your own - `It is my tree, my bird, my house, my husband, my wife.' We want to hold it and in that very process of holding, the thing that you once enjoyed is gone; because, in the very holding, there is dependence, there is fear, there is exclusion; and so the thing that gave joy, the sense of inward beauty is lost and life becomes enclosed. You consider the thing as belonging to you. So gradually, enjoyment becomes something which you possess, which you must have. You enjoy doing a ritual, doing puja, or being somebody in the world; you are content with living on the surface, seeking one sensation, one enjoyment, after another. That is our life, is it not? You get tired of one god and you want to find another god. You change your guru if he does not satisfy you, and then you tell him `Please lead me somewhere.' Behind all this, there is the search to find joy. You live at a superficial level and think you can get enjoyment. To know joy one must go much deeper. Joy is not mere sensation. It requires extraordinary refinement of the mind, but not the refinement of the self that gathers more and more to itself. Such a self, such a man, can never understand this state of joy in which the enjoyer is not. One has to understand this extraordinary thing; otherwise, life be- comes very small, petty, superficial - being born, learning a few things, suffering, bearing children having responsibilities, earning money, having a little intellectual amusement and then to die. That is our life. There is very little refinement in clothes, in manners, in the things that we eat. So, gradually, the mind becomes very dull. It matters very much, what you eat; but you like to eat just tasty things, you like to stuff yourself with a lot of unnecessary food, because it tastes good. Do please listen to all this. It matters very much the way you talk, the way you walk, the way you look at people. Search your mind, be aware, watch your gestures, watch the meaning of your speech. If you are really very alert, the mind becomes very sensitive, refined, simple. Without that simplicity and refinement, life is very superficial. But if you go beyond that superficiality, then there is the refinement of the self. But the refinement of the self is like being enclosed behind a beautiful wall, with a great deal of decorations and pictures. That refinement of the self is still not enjoyment because, in that, there is pain; in that, there is always the fear of losing and of gaining. But if the mind can go beyond the refinement of the self, `the me', then there is quite a different process at work; in that there is no experiencer. All this may be rather difficult, but it does not matter. Just listen to it. When you grow older these words might have a meaning, a significance; they might mean something to you later, when life is pressing on you, when life is difficult and full of shadows and struggle. Then perhaps, these words will mean something to you. So, listen to it as you would listen to music which you do not quite understand; just listen. We may move from one refinement to another, from one subtlety to another, from one enjoyment to another; but at the centre of it all, there is `the me', `the me' that is enjoying, that wants more happiness; `the me' that searches, looks for, longs for happiness; `the me' that struggles; `the me' that becomes more and more refined, but never likes to come to an end. It is only when `the me' in all subtle forms comes to an end, that there is a state of bliss which cannot be sought after, an ecstasy, a real joy without pain, without corruption. Now, all our joy, all our happiness is corruption; behind it, there is pain; behind it there is fear. When the mind goes beyond the thought of `the me', the experiencer, the observer, the thinker, then there is a possibility of a happiness which is incorruptible. That happiness cannot be permanent, in the sense in which we use that word. But, our mind is seeking permanent happiness, something that will last, that will continue. That very desire to continuity is corruption. But when the mind is free from `the me', there is a happiness, from moment to moment, which comes without your seeking, in which there is no gathering, no storing up no putting by of happiness. It is not something which you can hold on to. A mind that says `I was happy yesterday and I am not happy now; but I will be happy tomorrow' - such a mind is a comparing mind, and in that mind there is fear. It is always copying and discarding, gaining and losing; therefore, it is not really a happy mind. If we can understand the process of life without condemning, without saying it is right or wrong, then, I think, there comes a creative happiness which is not yours or mine. That creative happiness is like sunshine. If you want to keep the sunshine to yourself, it is no longer the clear, warm life-giving sun. Similarly, if you want happiness because you are suffering, or because you have lost somebody or because you have not been successful, then that is merely a reaction. But when the mind can go beyond, then there is a happiness that is not of the mind. It is very important from childhood to have good taste, to be exposed to beauty, to good music, to good literature, so that the mind becomes very sensitive, not gross, not heavy. It requires a great deal of subtlety to understand the real depths of life and that is why it matters very much, while we are young, how we are educated, what we eat, what clothes we put on, what kind of house we live in. I assure you that the appreciation and love of beauty matters very much, and that without it the real thing can never be found. But we go through school, through life, brutalized, disciplined; and we call that education, we call that living. It is very important, while we are at this school, to look at the river, the green fields and the trees; to have good food, but not food that is too tasty, that is too hot; not to eat too much; to enjoy games without competition; not to try to win for the college but to play for the sake of the game. From there, you will find, if you are really observing, that the mind becomes very alert, watchful, recollected; and so as you grow, right through life, you are bound to enjoy things. But to merely remain at the superficial level of enjoyment and not to know the real depth of human capacity, is like living in a dirty street and trying to keep it clean. It always gets dirty, it will always be spoilt, it will always be corrupt. But if one can, through the right kind of education, know how to think and to go beyond all thought, then, in that, there is extraordinary peace, a bliss which the mind, the superficial mind, living in its own superficial happiness can never find. You have heard what I said about food and clothes and cleanliness. Try to find out for yourself something more beyond it. See if you can restrain yourself from eating food which is too hot or too tasty. After all, it is only when you are young that you can be revolutionaries, not when you are sixty or seventy. Perhaps a few of us may be, but the vast majority are not revolutionaries. As you grow older, you crystallize. It is only when you are young that there is the possibility of revolution, of revolt, of discontent. To have that revolt, there must be discontent all through life. There is nothing wrong with revolt. What is wrong is to find an avenue which will satisfy you, which will quiet the discontent. Question: When I read something, my mind wanders. How am I to concentrate? Krishnamurti: We answered that question the other day. Do you know what concentration is? Do you know that you have concentrated when you are watching a dance which you really like? Listen to what I am saying. Last night, we had a dance. I do not know if you were watching it. When you watched, did you know that you were concentrated? Did you? When you are watching something in which you are interested - two bulls fighting, or a bird in flight, or two boats with full sail going on the river against the current - are you conscious that you are concentrated? Do you understand what I am talking about? Do listen. When your mind is not attracted to something, when you are forcing yourself to listen to music which you really do not enjoy, then you are conscious of making an effort to listen. This forcing, you call concentration. But if you listen with real delight, because you are really enjoying the music, then your whole mind, your whole being, is in it. You are not saying `Well, I must concentrate.' You are already there with the dancer, you are almost dancing yourself. But you see, we never look at or listen or read anything that way, we are never interested in anything so completely. We are only partially interested. One part of the mind says `I do not want to read that beastly book, it is boring' and the other part says `I must read it, because I have to study for my examination.' When one part says that you must read, the other part which knows the book is terribly boring, wanders off. So, you have struggle, and you say `I must begin to concentrate.' Really, you do not have to learn to concentrate. Please listen to this. Do not force yourself to concentrate, but be interested, love the thing that you are doing, for itself. When you paint, paint for itself; when you look at a dance, enjoy it, look at it, see the beauty of it, so that your mind is not broken up into different parts. so that the mind is a whole thing, a complete thing, so that there is no fractional looking with a mind that is broken up in different parts and which says `I must look.' What is important is not concentration, but the love of the thing; the very love of the thing for itself brings an astonishing energy, energy which is attention; without that, your learning, your looking, has no meaning; and you merely pass examinations or become glorified clerks. Question: Is it true that the lunar eclipse affects our life? If it does, why is it so? Krishnamurti: If you are luny, perhaps it may affect you. If you are a little touched in the head, it may affect you. But I do not see otherwise how it can affect you. This question opens up the problem of superstition. Do listen. You live in a society, among religious people who say `The lunar eclipse affects the mind.' They have got all kinds of theories, and you are brought up in them. You see all these pilgrims; thousands of them gather and bathe at the Sangam and in the Ganga. When thousands of people think about something, there is an atmosphere created, is there not? In that atmosphere, in that activity, the child watches and is impressed. When you are young, the mind is sensitive like a photo-plate that absorbs. That is why the kind of atmosphere you live in is very important. But we do not pay attention to all this. We live in this chaotic, dark, miserable world in a superficial way. You hear old people say `The lunar eclipse affects your life'. You hear and you accept. You do not question, you do not think for yourself. To think simply is very difficult, because the mind is not simple, the mind invents, it creates every kind of illusion mystery, and it gets caught in that. To have a simple mind is really to understand the complexity of life You cannot deny the complexity of life and say `I have a simple mind'. A simple mind is not a thing to be cultivated; it comes into being when you understand the complexity of existence. Question: What is the goal of our life? Krishnamurti: What is the significance of life? What is the purpose of life? Why do you ask such a question? You ask this question when, in you, there is chaos, and about you there is confusion, uncertainty. Being uncertain, you want something to be certain. You want a certain purpose in life, a definite goal, because, in yourself, you are uncertain. You are miserable, confused; you do not know what to do. Out of that confusion, out of that misery, out of that struggle, out of those fears, you say `What is the purpose of life?' You want a permanent something that you can struggle after, and the very struggle for a goal creates its own clarity; and that clarity, that certainty, is another form of confusion. What is important is not what is the goal of life, but to understand the confusion in which one is, the misery, the tears and other things of life. We do not understand the confusion but want to get rid of it. The real thing is here, not there. A man who is concerned with the understanding of all this confusion does not ask what is the purpose of life. He is concerned with the clearing up of the confusion, clearing up of the sorrow in which he is caught. When that is cleared, he does not ask a question like this. You do not ask `What is the purpose of sunshine'?, `What is the purpose of beauty'?, `What is the purpose of living'? It is only when life becomes a misery, a constant battle, and when you want to escape from that misery, from that battle, you say `Tell me what is the aim of life?' Then, you go after various people, migrate from one teacher to another, finding out what is the purpose of life. They will tell you, though they are equally foolish. You can only choose a guru like yourself, who is equally confused; and from him you get what you want. If you can understand the confusion, the struggle, the misery, the deep longings that you have, then in that very understanding, you will find something about which you do not have to ask another. Question: Why do we cry? Krishnamurti: You know there are tears of joy and tears of pain. The tears of joy are very rare. When you love some one, tears come to your eyes. But that is a very rare thing. It does not happen to us, because we do not love. As we grow older, we become more and more serious. We know at least the seriousness of frustration, the seriousness of hopeless misery in life the depths of which have not been seen, enjoyed, known. Most of us have tears - the little girl and the old person. We know what those tears mean - the tears of pain, of losing something, of losing a person, of not having success, of not being happily married. We know all those things. But to understand and go beyond all that, to go beyond every thought, requires a great deal of thought, a great deal of insight. Question: How can we deal with the unconscious? Krishnamurti: This question has been put, not by a grown-up person but by a child. The child does not know anything about the unconscious. All that he is concerned with is to play a game, to learn a subject, to be hungry, to bully people around him, to have fear and so on. You are a child and you cannot watch much while you are young. But, even if you watch a little, you will find that there are various things going on under the superficial ripples of your mind. Have you ever watched the river? You know there is an astonishing life going on below the river, in the deeper depths. A Frenchman went down to a depth of two hundred and thirty feet under water and found astonishing life, fishes that you have never seen, colours that are utterly unimaginable, darkness that is incredible, silence that is impenetrable. But we know only the surface of the river, the tiny ripples that ruffle the water, we know only the currents on the surface of the river. But if we go deeper -there are artificial ways of going deep down - then you can see the number of fishes, the variety of life, the strange happenings below the water. In the same way, to see below the surface of the mind to know the ripples in it and all its activities, you must be capable of going deep down into the mind. It is important to know that the mind is not just the little layer of superficial activity, that you are not just studying to pass examinations, and that you are not merely to follow some tradition in the matter of your putting on clothes, doing Puja or something else. To go below the superficial activities, you must have a mind that can understand how to go deep. I think that is one of the functions of education, not to be merely satisfied with the surface whether it is beautiful or ugly, but to be able to go deep like the diver with his diving dress, so that in the depths you can freely breathe, so that you can find out all the intricacies of life, of the depths, the limitations, the fluctuations, the varieties of thought - because in oneself, one is all that - and then go beyond all that, transcend all that. You cannot go very deep, if you do not know the surface of your mind. To know the surface, one has to watch; the mind has to watch the way it dresses puts on clothes, puts on a sacred thread, does puja, and understand why. Then, you can go deep. But to go deep, you must have a very simple mind. That is why a mind that is held in conclusions, in condemnation, in comparison, can never go beyond its own superficial activities. Question: How should we observe things? Krishnamurti: What matters is not how you should observe, but how you actually observe. You do not know how you should observe. Many people will tell you how you should, and just to accept it would be silly. But, you have to find out how you look at things. Have you ever noticed how you look at things? How do you look at a tree? Do you look at it fully, or do you immediately give the tree a name, look at it casually, and wander away? When you give it a name, your mind has already wandered away. If you look at a parrot, do you observe the red beak, the claws, the curious ways it flies? You watch; as you watch, you observe and learn to see. The moment you say that bird is `this', your mind has already been distracted from observation. We never look at anything freely, completely because we do not observe it without comparing; we say `That bird is not as beautiful as the other bird', `That tree is not as tall or as magnificent as the other tree; we also give it a name. The process of comparison is going on all the time. Only that mind really looks, that can look without this process. That is how a thing has to be observed. When you hear it said that you should look without comparison, without naming, then you will try to struggle to look that way. But, do not try to look that way. Just see how you look, how you compare, how you judge, how you see a beautiful object. Just watch how your mind is always wandering, never fully looking. To look, the mind must be quiet, not wander, not be distracted. January 19, 1954 BANARAS, INDIA 20TH JANUARY 1954 13TH TALK TO STUDENTS AT RAJGHAT SCHOOL One of the greatest difficulties that we have is to find out what makes for mediocrity. You know what that word means? A mediocre mind really means a mind that is impaired, that is not free, that is caught in fear, in a problem; a mind that merely revolves round its own self-interest, round its own success and failure about its own immediate solutions and the sorrows that inevitably come to a petty mind. It is one of the most difficult things, is it not?, for a mind that is mediocre to break away from its own habits of thought from its own pattern of action, and be free to live, to be able to move about, to act. You will see most of our minds are very small, are very petty. Look at your own minds and you will see what it is occupied with - such small things as your passing an examination, what people will think of you, how you are afraid of somebody and your own success. You want a job; and when you have that job, you want to have a better job and so on. I you search your minds, you will find it is all the time occupied with this kind of small, trivial self-interested activities. Being thus occupied, it creates problems, does it not? It tries to solve its problems according to its own pettiness and, not doing that, it increases its own problems. It seems to me that the function of education is to break down this way of thinking. The mediocre mind, the mind that is caught in one of the narrow streets of Benaras and lives there, may read; it may pass examinations; it may be socially very active; but it still lives in the narrow little street of its own making. I think it is very important for all of us, the old and the young to see that the mind being so small, whatever effort it makes, whatever struggles it may go through, whatever hopes or fears or longings it may have, they are still small, they are still petty. It is very difficult for most of us to realize that the Gurus, the Masters, the societies, the religions which the petty mind forms, are still petty. It is very difficult to break this pattern of thinking. Is it not very important while we are young, to have teachers, educators, who are not mediocre? Because, if the educators are dull, weary, are thinking of little things and are caught in their own pettiness, naturally, they cannot help to bring about an atmosphere in which the student can be free and break through the pattern which society has imposed upon people. I think it is very important to be able to know that one is mediocre, because most of us do not admit we are mediocre, we all think that we have something extraordinary lurking behind, somewhere. But we have to know that we are mediocre, to realize that mediocrity still creates pettiness, and not to act against it. Any action against mediocrity is the action born of mediocrity; to break down mediocrity is still petty, trivial. You see, don't you understand all this? Unfortunately, I speak only in English, but I wish your teachers could help you to understand this. In explaining this to you, their own triviality will break down. The mere explanation will awaken them to their own pettiness, smallness. That is why a small mind cannot love, is not generous, quarrels over trivial things. What is needed in India and elsewhere in the world is not clever people not people with degrees or big positions, but people like you and me who have broken down the triviality of their mind. Triviality is essentially the thought of oneself. That is what makes the mind trivial, the constant occupation about its own success, about one's own ideals, about one's own desires to become perfect; that is what makes the mind petty because `the me', the self, however much it may expand, is still very small. So, the mind that is occupied is a petty mind; the mind that is constantly thinking about something, worried about its own examination, worried as to whether it will get a job, what the father and mother or teachers or gurus or neighbours or society thinks, is a petty mind. The occupation with these ideas makes for respectability, and the respectable mind, the mediocre mind, is not a happy mind. Please listen to all this. You know you all want to be respectable, don't you?, to be well thought of by somebody - by your father or by your neighbour or by your society - to do the right thing, and this creates fear; such a mind can never think of anything new. What is needed in this deteriorated world, is a mind that is creative, not inventing, not with capacity. But that creativeness comes when there is no fear, when the mind is not occupied with its own problems. All this requires an atmosphere in which the student is really free, free not to do whatever he likes but free to question, to investigate, to find out, to reason and to go beyond the reason. The student requires a freedom in which he can find out what he really loves to do in life so that he is not forced to do a particular thing which he loathes, which he does not like. You know that a mediocre mind never revolts; it submits to government, to parental authority; it puts up with anything. I am afraid in a country like this, where there is overpopulation, where livelihood is very very difficult, the pressures of these make us obey, make us submit, and gradually the spirit of revolt, the spirit of discontent is destroyed. A school of this kind should educate a student to have that tremendous discontent right through life, not truly to be satisfied. The discontent begins to find out, becomes really intelligent, if it does not find a channel of satisfaction, of gratification. So education is a very complex thing, it is not just going through some classes and passing examinations and getting a job. Education is a life process, a constant uncovering of the whole significance of life. We are not prepared for it. That is why the educator must be educated in order to educate the children. You go through these examinations, get jobs and then what happens to you? You get married, you have children, you are worried, you have little money and you are swallowed up in this whole mass of the average mind. That is what happens to you. All of us who have passed the gates of any University, we just disappear; we do not revolt and create a new society, a new way of thinking, we do not break down the old pattern. Instead of doing that, we just become the average mediocre mind. I think really the function of the school at Rajghat is to break down this mediocrity, so that you can be a different person when you leave here, a creative human being who will create a new world. You see, that requires on the part of the teachers, on the part of the elders, on the part of the parents, a great deal of understanding, a great deal of affection. So, if a school of this kind cannot do that, it has no business to exist. It is very important that all of us - the student, the teacher, the parents, every one of us that comes here - should understand this and create conditions where the petty mind, the small mediocre mind, is transformed so that it can live and be in that creative spirit without fear, with great affection and understanding. Question: Why do we, boys and girls feel shy of each other? Krishnamurti: Why do you feel shy? Have you ever seen two sparrows, male and female sparrows, two birds on the window sill, chatter away? They are different, are they not? The male has a black chest and the female has not. One is very shy; the other is very aggressive, it attacks. Have you not noticed it? Obviously a boy and a girl are different, physically. Girls have a different body from the boys', their nerves are different. Perhaps a girl is more sensitive, shy, and the boy is not. A boy is more rough physically; a girl is differently constructed physically from the boy. There is a whole problem behind that, the problem of sex, which is nature's way of creating babies. Nobody tells us of all these things and all the implications. We are allowed to grow wild in this thing, being ignorant of all this; and that is why we feel shy. Also the Indian society keeps the male, the female and the little children apart. The old people have great many ideas of what is right and what is wrong - that the woman must be kept in the house, the woman is inferior, something to be looked down upon, something to be used, made into a cook and to have children. Naturally, you grow in fear, in apprehension, in nervousness, anxiety, so that you are not a human being at all, but just a dull, hard working woman, that is all. You have no amusement, you do not paint, you do not think, you pass some examinations; they do not mean a thing to you. You become an ordinary woman like the rest and the boy too exactly the same. Our education generally is the most destructive way of dealing with human beings. We are not treated like human beings, to understand life, to love life, to see the enormous beauty, the richness of existence, to know of death, to know the living thing of life. We are not shown all that. All that we are told is `do' and `don't'. Brutally or aggressively you are beaten, scolded, bullied; and naturally when you grow or when you are young, you are shy. So, the whole problem is never understood because behind it there is fear. Is it not the function of the educator to explain, show all these, so that you as a student understand the difficulties, the subtleties? You can understand the difficulties, the subtleties the immense problems involved in all these things only when there is no fear. Question: Is it right that fame comes after death? Krishnamurti: Do you think that the villager who dies will have fame after he dies? Question: A great man, after he dies, becomes famous and is honoured. Krishnamurti: What is a great man? Find out the truth of that question. Is he one who seeks fame? Is he one who would give himself tremendous importance? Is he one who identifies himself with a country and becomes the leader? I he does this, he has fame wile he is living. That is all what we want; we all want the same thing, we all want to be great people. You want to lead the procession, you want to be the governor, you want to be the great ideal, the great person who is going to reform India. Since you want that, since all the people want that, you will lead the procession. But is that greatness? Does greatness consist in being publicised, in having your name appear in the papers, having authority over people, making people obey because you have a strong will or personality or crook in the mind. Surely, greatness is something totally different. Greatness is anonymity, to be anonymous is the greatest thing. The great cathedral, the great things of life, great sculpture, must be anonymous. They do not belong to any particular person, like truth. Truth does not belong to you or to me, it is totally impersonal and anonymous; if you say you have got truth, then you say you have got truth, then you are not anonymous, you are far more important than truth. But an anonymous person may never be great. Probably he will never be great, because he does not want to be great, great in the sense of the world or even inwardly because he is nobody. He has no followers. He has no shrine, he does not puff himself up. But most of us unfortunately want to puff ourselves up, we want to be great, we want to be known, we want to have success. Success leads to fame, but that is an empty thing, is it not? It is like ashes. Every politician is known and it is his business to be known and therefore he is not great. Greatness is to be unknown, inwardly and outwardly to be as nothing; and that requires great penetration, great understanding, great affection. Question: If we respect any one, there is fear. Then, why do we respect? Krishnamurti: It is fairly simple. If you respect out of fear, you want something from that person. Don't you? Therefore you do not respect him at all. All that you want is to get something out of him. So, you bow down very low, touch his feet and put a garland round his neck. That is not respect, respect is something entirely different. To respect another requires affection not fear. When you respect somebody from whom you are hoping to get something, then you must despise people who are below you, you must have contempt for others. So, a man who has contempt for another can never be free from fear. Can he? Is it not possible to have respect, to have affection in oneself which naturally expresses itself in respect to every person, irrespective of whether one gets something or not? You watch the way you treat the cooley, the labourer, the servant of your hostel, and the way you treat your housemaster or the principal or a member of the Foundation - the scale going up and up - and you will see the manner of your behaviour. You do not get up when the cooley comes in, but when your teacher comes in you jump up; and the teacher demands that you jump up because he thinks that you must show respect to him. But he does not insist that you should treat the servant equally, with equal words, to talk to him gently and kindly as you do to somebody else. Is it not important to know all this while you are young, so that you do not become slaves to authority, so that you have real affection for people, you have respect, which you show to the servant as well as to the man whom you think to be a little more important? But as long as there is fear and no affection, you are bound to have contempt for the one and so-called respect for the other. Question: Why does the elder brother beat the younger sister, and the younger sister the younger brother? Krishnamurti: That is a very good question. You know, have you ever watched the chicken? The more powerful pecks the weaker chicken and the weaker chicken pecks the still weaker chicken. You have no chickens here, you do not watch. You do not do anything though there is life all about you. Please listen. You do not look, you do not observe - neither your teachers nor yourself. That is how life is. Among the animals, the stronger destroys the weaker. That is what we do in human society. The strong man pushes out his chest and beats everybody and the weaker one gets angry with the still weaker. You ask why we do this. For the very simple reason that we want to do it. If we are beaten by a big man, we want to take it out of the little man. You know the desire to hurt is very strong in us. We want to hurt people. There is a pleasure in hurting people, in telling, in saying cruel things about people, ugly things, inferior things. We never speak to people with kindliness. We never speak to people of their goodness but always talk with a sneer. So, that has to be understood, not why the elder sister beats the younger sister and so on. The elder sister is probably beaten by the father or mother. Therefore she has to take it out of somebody. So, she beats the younger and the younger takes it out of the little ones. To understand cruelty is very difficult and to understand animosity and not to create animosity is very difficult for most people. We never think of all these things. In our schools we are never pointed out these acts of cruelty, because the teacher does not see them for himself. He has his problems, he has to get through the class and push the students through some examinations. Please watch all the things that are taking place about you, how the chicken fight each other, how the strong bulldog dominates everything else. You will find that the same spirit of domination, anger, hatred and animosity is in each one of us. To dispel this, we have only to be aware of it and not to consider it as wrong or right. Question: What is freedom? Krishnamurti: I wonder if she really wants to know what freedom is! Does any of us know what is freedom? All that we know is we are made to do things, we are compelled by circumstances or through our own fears to do things and we want to break away from them. The breaking away from restraint, from compulsion, from fear, or something else is what we call freedom. Please listen. The breaking away from restraint, the breaking away from a hindrance, the breaking away from some form of compulsion is not freedom. Freedom is something in itself, not away from something. Understand this, please. The prisoner put in a prison for some cause wants to break away, and be free. He only thinks in terms of breaking away; If I am angry, I feel that if I can only break away from anger, I will be free. If I am envious, the overcoming of the envy is not `freedom; the breaking away, the overcoming, the suppressing is merely another kind of expressing the same thing; that is not freedom. Freedom is in itself, not away from anything. The love of something for itself is freedom. There is freedom when you paint because you love to paint, not because it gives you fame or gives you a position. In the school, when you love to paint, that very love is freedom and that means an astonishing understanding of all the ways of the mind. Also, it is very simple to do something for itself and not for what it brings you either as a punishment or as a reward. Just to love the thing for itself is the beginning of freedom. Do you spend ten minutes of your class period, talking of all this? Or do you plunge immediately into Geography, Mathematics and English and all the rest of it? What happens? Why don't you do this for ten minutes every day instead of wasting your time on some stupid stuff which does not really interest you but which has to be done. Why don't you spend some time with the teacher in the class, and talk about these matters? This will help you in your life though it might not help you to become great or successful, or famous. If you talk over every day for ten minutes, about these matters, intelligently, fearlessly, then it will help you all through life, because it will make you think and not merely repeat things like parrots. So, please ask your teachers to talk to you about these matters. Then you will find both the educator and yourself becoming more intelligent. Question: Can nature get rid of nature's dependence? If dependence is equivalent to fear, can we ever get rid of nature's dependence. Krishnamurti: When we are very young as babies, we are dependent. We depend on the mother for the milk. We are dependent when we are very young, to be protected, to be watched, to be cared for. That is inevitable for every bird, for every animal. All the puppies that are in this place are guarded by the mother. That is a natural thing. But as we grow, if we depend on somebody for happiness, for comfort, for guidance, for security, then, out of that dependence comes fear. Dependence makes us dull, insensitive, fearful. We do depend on the railway, on the post office, but that is not dependence; that is a function in which both of us are partaking. But the dependence of which I am talking, is inward insight, inward seeking; and it is that dependence that creates fear, that clouds our mind, making it dull, heavy, insensitive. We depend because in ourselves we are so empty, in ourselves there is nothing, not a seed that is flowering. Because we do not know anything of all that, it is the function of education, is it not?, to show all the implications of human existence outwardly and inwardly. Our living is not just what appears outwardly; that is very superficial. We are much deeper; great many things are hidden in us. To understand all that, to unravel and to go beyond that is the function of education, is it not? January 20, 1954 BANARAS, INDIA 21ST JANUARY 1954 14TH TALK TO STUDENTS AT RAJGHAT SCHOOL A lovely morning! Did you notice the blue sky? How extremely limpid it is, clear, very quiet! Did you notice the river this morning? There was no ruffle on it; and the sun early in the morning, how peaceful it was! You know, that is the kind of thing that we want - and not only the people who live on the river side -this extraordinary peace. When we have it, we do not know that we have it. That is the strange part of it. Those fishermen living in that village, they also do not know. They have all that beauty, that quietness, that sense of being alone with nature; but they are not satisfied because they are hungry. They have to struggle for life; so, in spite of this extraordinary beauty and quietness, there is constant battle going on. They want more money, their children are ill, their wives, their husbands or grownup mothers are dying and so, in spite of this tranquillity, there is a great deal of disturbance. It is so with most of us too. As we grow older, we want to live alone. When we know we are not concerned with peace, with tranquillity, with beauty, but when we only want to enjoy, to have a good time, to play about, to see things as they are, we do generally see children, everything, factually as they are. But as we grow older, we want so many things, we want to be happy, we want to have virtue, we want to have good position, we want children, we compete with each other for a better job, to have position where there is more power and so on. But underneath all, we want to be left alone, we do not want to be disturbed, we want our thoughts to run in easy grooves; and so, we set up habits of easy thought, easy existence, have a comfortable job and there stagnate. So, most of us, as we grow older, want to be left alone, we do not want to be disturbed; and this state of non-disturbance is what we call peace. For most of us, that is peace - having a clear sky. But in this clarity there are great many things going on, a great disturbance in the atmosphere, which we do not see. What we see is very superficial, is just on the surface. The kind of tranquillity we want, is a superficial calm, an easy existence; and that we call peace. But peace is not so easy to go by. We can only understand peace when we understand the great disturbance, the discontent in which each one of us is caught, when the mind is free from easy thought easy grooves of pattern of action, when we are really disturbed - which we all avoid. We do not want to be disturbed, we want things to remain as they are. If you are in a comfortable position, if you own a good house or car, you do not want to be disturbed. You want to let things remain. But here is disturbance going on all the time around you and in you, social disturbance; and so, you become a reactionary, a conservative, you want to let things remain, you are constantly avoiding any form of change and going back to the good old days when things were as they were. While we are young, we are disturbed, we question, we are curious, we want to know. As we grow older, we want not to be disturbed, we want to find out the answers. Our religion is a solace to us, it gives us peace, gives us tranquillity, gives us a sensation of `we shall be better off next life,' we accept things as they are. So, when we talk about peace, it is a state, for most of us, in which there is no disturbance of any kind. We imagine, we think upon, we meditate on that peace as a state in which there is no kind of disturbance, no kind of revolution, no kind of deep radical change. So, our minds become very dull, lethargic, also dead; what we call peace is dead. But I think there is another kind of peace; and that is much more difficult to understand, a peace which is not a reaction, a peace which is not an opposite of conflict. Do you understand what I am talking about? That is the peace where there is no conflict, it is something which is not conflict. I am happy or unhappy; and when I am unhappy, I want to be happy. So, we only know these opposites, these dual processes. I was happy yesterday and I am unhappy today; and I would like to get back to that happiness tomorrow. So, we keep these opposites going on, working, struggling and when we have a thing which we call happiness as opposed to unhappiness, we want to remain in that state. The remaining in that state is what we call a constant security, peace, happiness. That is all we know and we are always asking `How am I to get back to that state in which I was happy, in which I was secure?' Because, in that primary state, I am not disturbed, I am not afraid. I won't fear that. But, I think, that is not peace. Peace is not something which is an opposite to conflict. It is not the outcome of struggle, of pain, of suffering of unhappiness. If it is, then it is no peace; it is just the opposite reaction to `what is.' This is a bit difficult. Please ask your teachers if they understand it. I hope they do, because it is very important to understand this. Peace is like freedom. Freedom is the love of a thing for itself, it is not the opposite of slavery. The love of something is not for what it will bring you - position, prestige, money, fame, notoriety or what you will. But, it is something in itself without a reward, without being afraid of punishment or failure or success. So, is this thing called peace. Peace is not the opposite of conflict, disturbance, revolution. To understand peace which is not the opposite, we must understand the conflicts of the mind. Being disturbed, the mind creates peace, it wants peace, it wants to be left alone, not to be disturbed. So, it creates a haven, a belief, a refuge which it calls peace. But that is not peace; it is only a reaction, a movement away from this to that. But life does not leave you. Life is very disturbed, life being the poor people, the rich people, the camel that suffers with so much weight on its back, the politician, the revolution, the war, the quarrels, the bitterness, the unhappiness, the joy and the dark shadows of life. There is also death in it. The whole of that life is very disturbed. Since it is very disturbed and we do not understand it, we want to run away to something which we call peace; we sit on the banks of the river, close the eyes and think on something which we call peace. That is merely an escape, a reaction, an opposite to the state of disturbance. But, if we can understand all these disturbances - the living, the joy, the unhappiness, the struggles, the jealousies, the envies - if you can understand all that, not run away from it, just look at `what is', without condemning, just understand `what is', then out of that, there will be peace which is not an opposite. In that peace, there is great depth, a totally different activity which is creativeness, which is God, which is truth. But one cannot come to it or understand it, if one does not understand the disturbances. In understanding these disturbances, these discontents, these constant enquiries and perplexities, anxieties, the mind becomes very clear. Peace is not something beyond the mind, but it comes when I understand the difficulties. To understand the difficulties, I must not condemn the difficulties, I must not compare one difficulty with another difficulty. I must not say `Ah! you suffer much more!' Or `I suffer less.' Suffering is suffering - you do not suffer more and I less or I more and you less. If we know suffering without comparison, we shall try to understand it. Out of that understanding, the mind becomes very simple, very clear, very innocent; and it is this innocence that is peace. The mind that has been through experience, understands the experience and does not stir it, is innocent and it knows peace. It is rather complex for a young student to understand all this, but you should know all about this, because you will be going out of this place into a world where there is frightful competition, where everyone is out for himself, for the country, for the people, for the god. If we do not understand this process, we will be caught in it, we will be driven by society, by circumstances. It is very important while we are young to be so educated, or to educate ourselves so clearly, so simply, that we can understand the battle of life. But the difficulty is that we spend our days in things that do not really matter. Have you noticed how you spend your day as a student? Mostly in the class room, a few hours of play, go to bed exhausted, wake up and then begin again; never spend a day, an hour or even ten minutes a day, talking about these things that do really matter. Neither the educator nor those who are being educated spend any of their time going into these matters, finding out the truth of them and knowing how to improve life. That is far more important than passing an examination. Thousands and millions pass examinations all over the world, but they do not mature. Life is a process of learning all the time, understanding continuously. There is no end to understanding you cannot say `I have finished my examination, I will throw away my books, I am ready for life.' But this is what we generally do. We never pick up the book again after we pass examinations. If I can read rightly, then the books have much to tell. But there is something far deeper than books; that is ourselves. In ourselves, if we know how to read the thing that we are, in it there is immeasurable richness. Then you do not have to read a single book. It is all there. But it requires much greater capacity than reading a book; and in reading the thing that you are, none of you are helped and so, you never spend time every day in coming to it and understanding it; you are bored with it. You are tired when the real things are mentioned. Most of us do not want to be disturbed; outwardly, we have jobs, we have occupations, we are teachers and so on; we carry on; and the beauty of life passes by. Question: How can we progress in this world? Krishnamurti: Does progress in this world consist mainly of becoming successful, of being somebody in the ladder of success, socially? Why do we progress in this world? Why do we become taller, bigger, why do we become more clever, more learned, why do we become more powerful or less powerful? More money, bigger house means, to us progress; that is why we all want more. We all want to keep on climbing, don't we?, not only in this world but spiritually, inwardly. You see, you are not paying attention to what I am saying; I have answered this question many times - not that I am not answering it again. We have to see the truth of this thing, that this so-called progress, outward or inward, does not bring tranquillity and peace but only leads to wars, to destruction, to greater misery. We do not understand ourselves, the ways of our existence; and so we are enamoured of this progress - the progress of the aeroplane, the very latest car, the astonishing things the inventors are producing. But these things have their own uses; but unless we change ourselves, we use these things in a manner which causes destruction and misery. Question: In every meeting, you tell us to have a discussion with the teachers at least for ten minutes in the morning; but many of our teachers do not come to the meetings. So, what are we to do in order to have a discussion? Krishnamurti: If most of them do not come to the meetings, ask the others who come. When you attend the class, you must have a teacher there. Why don't you ask him? Why don't you say `Please, before we start our classes, let us talk about what was said at the morning meeting.' But, I think the question is a little more difficult. Because, the teachers, when you ask them to discuss with you before the classes begin, get rather annoyed, don't they? They do not want to be questioned about these matters, because they do not quite understand. They do not want to feel that they do not understand. They are teachers, you know, they are great people and you are only the students. So, they want to keep you in your place. You, being impudent, want to catch them out. So it works both ways. Does it not? I think it is important for the teacher as well as for the student to listen to these talks and to discuss with the students. It does not matter if the teacher does not understand. He must understand this thing, what I am talking about, is life, this is not just a fancy, a belief, a religion, a sect. This is life and if the teachers do not understand it, then naturally, they cannot help the students to understand. If the students want to discuss with them, why should they get angry or annoyed or disturbed? If they also begin to think, they also will see the problems, then they will find a way of talking about them. But you see, unfortunately, most of our teachers are not interested in all this. They have their problems, they have their jobs, they are well-established and they want you to leave them alone. The young mind, the mind of the student, wants to know, to find out, to enquire, to disturb the teacher. That is why, sirs, you, the older people, should pay attention to what ever I am talking because, in your hands, the new generation can come into being. If you are not interested in all these things, you are going to produce a generation as cursed as yours. You are really producing a curse on the land, if you will educate your children according to your own pattern, and the pattern of the older generation is nothing to be proud of. It is really important that the older people, the teachers, should question all these. After all, Rajghat is primarily a place for this kind of education. Question: What is self-confidence and how does it come into being in man? Krishnamurti: Sir, you dig a hole in the garden, manure it, water it and then put a plant in it and you see it grow. You say, you feel, that you can do something at least, can't you? So, you dig another hole, plant another tree and that gives you a sense that you can do things, that gives you a confidence, as when you pass an examination, one after the other. Does not that make you feel that you have confidence, the capacity to plant, to drive a car. to write a book, to be very clever, to pass examinations? The capacity to do anything gives you a sense of confidence, does it not? When you write a poem easily, often you say `By Jove! I can do it very easily.' It gives you a sense of confidence. But, what happens? That confidence becomes a way of self-importance, `I can do things.' So, when you use the capacity, you begin to have self-importance. That is, if I am able to speak well on a platform, which may be my sole capacity, I use the platform for my importance, as a means of expanding myself. I may be able to dance some silly dance and that gives me enormous importance, because I show myself off and, out of that, I have self-importance. So, I use capacity as a means of giving strength to my inward subtle forms of selfishness. What is important is not the cultivation of the self, but to have the capacity to do things without the strengthening of the self. You understand? When you write a poem, when you plant a tree, do not say `I have written a poem, I have planted a tree.' It requires a great deal of intelligence to see that and to stop using capacity -whatever capacity, however little it may be - for self-expansion, for making oneself important. Question: As a boy grows, he becomes curious about sex; should it be, or not be? Why is it so? Krishnamurti: It is a natural thing. Are you not curious about how trees grow? Have you not seen that the cows have calves? Everything is a curious thing - how a plant grows, how a little plant growing, becoming a tree, fructifies and produces fruits; is that not astonishing? Please listen carefully. We do not use this interest to find out in every direction. You understand? You would never enquire why a tree grows, why a bird flies. You would never see the beauty of the bird and the shades of the tree. You never dig in the garden and you never plant a tree, a bush; you never smell a flower; you never read with enjoyment, you never create anything out of your hands. Because you are not interested in all these things creatively, you become interested in one thing which you call sex; but, if you are interested in all these things, then that also is a part of your life, that also is a natural thing. That is a way of producing babies, there is nothing wrong about it; but, that should not become our occupation, our mind is not to be completely concentrated on that, as most of our minds are. When we are young, if we have not taken interest in the flowers, in the rivers, in the fish, in creating something with our hands, then that thing, sex, becomes more important. If we can be creatively interested in everything - that is after all, education - in painting, in music, to play an instrument, to write a poem, to play games, to eat right food, to put on the right clothes, to see the sky of an evening and early morning, see the beauty of the trees, our mind taking in all that, creatively enjoying, seeing the beauty of all this, then this thing is not an ugly problem. But because we have not been encouraged to look at all those things creatively, this thing sex, becomes a nightmare. Those of you who are the elder people, please do listen. After all, that is education, to help the students to plant trees, see that they do plant trees and care for them, leave them to make things with their hands, to milk the cow, to go for walks - not always everlasting games - to look at the trees, the birds, the skies, to widen the mind creatively, extensively; that is education, not the passing some stupid and silly examinations. Question: When we see girls, we try to show ourselves off, why is it? Krishnamurti: I have answered that question. We want protection. We are attracted to what we call the opposite sex, the opposite person, the girl. That is a normal thing. Do listen, that is a normal thing, not to be ashamed of, not to be condemned. When you see a tree, are you not attracted by the tree? When you see that lovely bird, that king fisher, blue and marvellous in the light, are you not delighted by it? Perhaps you are not, because you never look. Last night, there was thunder, lightning, rain. You never looked, did you? You never felt the rain on your face. Did you? You see everybody running for shelter, how the roads are washed clean and how the leaves are brighter. This is also an attraction. Unfortunately, we, girls or boys, are insensitive to everything in life except to one thing, and that becomes an enormous problem afterwards in our life, a problem with which we struggle. You have to be sensitive to everything about us, to those poor bullocks that are drawing the heavy carts day after day, how thin they are and how tired the drivers are, the poor villagers, the disease, the empty stomachs. To be aware of all these things is part of education. If you are sensitive to all these, then you will not want to show off. Beauty is something that only sensitive minds and heart can find. But mere attraction, mere sensation, though it may be pleasurable at the beginning, does not completely satisfy one. So, there is pain in it. But if the mind can look at all the things of life, all the depths and heights and qualities of it, if the mind can be sensitive to them, then the attraction of boy and girl has its right place; but without the other, this becomes a very small petty affair. Question: How can we create the feeling of necessity of manual work? Krishnamurti: How can we feel that manual work is important? Sir, when you have to do things yourself, the question does not arise. The question arises when somebody else can sweep the floor instead of you. When you have your own physical work to do, day after day, you do not put that question. The villager digging, plowing, he does not say `How can I make manual labour important'? He has to do it. But we are so glad, we have not got to do manual labour. We, the upper middle class, have withdrawn from all manual labour because we have a little money, and we have the tradition of centuries that the educated men, the Brahmins, the upper class persons, have nothing to do with the squalid affair of doing manual labour. If you go to America, if you have lived there, you have to do everything, wash the floors, do the laundry, cook, wash dishes, because there are no servants. There, only the very very rich can afford servants. They are not called servants, they are called helpers and they are treated like human beings. But here, in this country, you have overpopulation. Thousands are there for one job. If you have a little money, you employ somebody to do the dirty job and you gradually withdraw from doing anything with your hands. If you see that and if you see the importance to do something with your hands, then out of that you will naturally do it. The mentality of the so-called educated people, whether they are clerks or they become ministers, is the same - mediocre, petty, small. Those people who refuse to touch the earth, the flower, do not know what they miss. If you really went into the garden, dug and planted, saw things grow, if you milked a cow, looked after chickens, something happens to you, there is an astonishing richness in it. Those who have no touch with the earth, miss a great deal. You try and have a garden of your own, you plant a tree of your own, do it, organize it; then you will see what will happen to you inwardly. It gives you a sense of release, beauty, the love of the earth, of the little worms inside the earth. But, unfortunately, we do not know that feeling; nor do we know the feeling of sitting still and looking on something actually. We know none of these inward richness and, not knowing, we acquire superficial, transient riches. Question: What is the sun? Krishnamurti: Did you ask your teacher? The sun is, according to scientists, a ball of fire, a light and it gives you heat, light, strength, everything. You won't ask your teachers about it. Question: How can one be satisfied with what one is? Krishnamurti: The thing is very simple if you listen to what I am saying. You listen carefully. Dis- satisfaction comes when there is comparison. When you see somebody else having more and you having less, and you compare yourself with that somebody, then dissatisfaction comes; but if you do not compare, then there is no problem. But not to compare requires a great deal of interest and understanding, because all our education, all our training is based on comparison - `That boy is not so good as you', `you are not so clever as that boy' and so on. Then, you struggle and this boy struggles like you. So we keep this game of constant comparison and struggle. But if you love the thing which you are doing, you do it because you love it and not because somebody else is doing it better than you or you are doing it better than somebody else. When you have no comparison of any kind, then the thing that you are doing, that itself, begins to produce its own depths, its own heights. Question: Why can't we see the sun? Krishnamurti: Because it is too bright. You cannot look at electric lamp, if it is a powerful lamp. The eyes are to sensitive. January 21, 1954 BANARAS, INDIA 22ND JANUARY 1954 15TH TALK TO STUDENTS AT RAJGHAT SCHOOL You know, one of the strange things of life is what we call religion. You may have wealth, success; you may be very famous, well known; or you may have failures, sorrows, great many frustrations; at the end of it all, there is death that awaits all of us. Whether we live to be 100 or 10 or whatever it is, there is always death. Seeing all these, seeing our own littleness and the sorrows of ours, we, you and I, want to find something beyond ourselves. Because, after all, one gets very soon tired - tired of oneself, of one's success, of one's vanities, of the things that one does, the family, the money, position. When persons get tired of these things, they feel they are deceived. Then, in order to forget themselves, they try to identify themselves with something greater. That is, they like to think that there is something greater and so they say `Perhaps, if I could think about that, live in that, meditate upon that, have an image, a picture, an idol of that, then I could forget myself in that.' When man tries to go beyond himself, beyond his struggles, beyond his sorrows, beyond all the things that perish round him, beyond all the things that live and die, he begins to search, to invent, to speculate. Actually, he does not really search, he does not really want to find out; but he hopes there is something which he calls god and clings to the belief in that which his mind has created, thus trying to escape from all these troubles. So, he begins to speculate, he begins to have theories of what God is, and he writes books. The more clever, the more cunning, the more subtle you are, the more ideas you have about God and you will build great many philosophies round it, systems of thought; and from that grows the thought `You must have beliefs in order to attain that reality, you must do certain practices, you must give up the world, you must do this and you must not do that in order to get there, in order to forget the troubles, the sorrows and the death that awaits all of us.' So, we have a religion which demands that we shall believe. Society also demands likewise because that is what each one of us wants - to believe in something much greater than ourselves, because we ourselves are very small. All our conflicts, all our ambitions, are very small, very petty. So, we also want to identify ourselves, call ourselves something - if it is not God, it is the State, the State being the whole of India or the whole world, the government, the people who rule, the society; if it is not that, it is an utopia, a something very far away, a marvellous society that we are going to build. In the building of it, you destroy many people, and it does not matter to you fundamentally if you are going to build that marvellous society. If you do not believe in any of these, you believe in having a good time - cars, refrigerators - thus to forget yourself in the material things. This one is called materialistic and the man who forgets himself in the spiritual world is called spiritual. But both of them have the same intention behind them, one to forget oneself in cinemas and the other in books, in rituals, in sitting on the banks of the river and meditating, in renunciation not to have any burden, to lose oneself in some kind of action, to lose oneself in the worship of something. So, there is the desire to lose oneself because oneself is very small. The self may not be small to you when you are young. But, as you grow older, you will see how little substance there is in it, how little value it has; it is like the shadow with few qualities, full of struggles, pains, sorrows and that is all. So, one gets soon bored with it and pursues something in order to forget oneself. That, is what all of us are doing. The rich, they too want to forget; only they forget themselves in night clubs, in amusements, in cars, in travelling. The clever ones also want to forget themselves; they are so clever that they begin to invent, to have extraordinary beliefs. The stupid ones also want to forget themselves; and so, they follow people, they have gurus who are going to tell them what to do. The ambitious ones also want to forget themselves in doing something. So, all of us, as we mature as we grow older physically, want to forget ourselves. There is the desire to forget oneself and so we will find something in which we can live, in which or through which we can think, with which to identify, to receive something greater. When we want to forget ourselves through something, through a State, through a God, through a belief, through a guru, through action, then it creates illusions, it creates a false thing. When I forget myself through an idea, then the idea becomes important, because I am forgetting myself through an idea. The ideal being an invention of the mind, it can also create illusions. So, I multiply illusions. These illusions, superstitions, beliefs are what we call religion, and so many books have been written about it, not how to dispel illusion but how to arrange illusion in order how to sympathise, how to philosophise that. But that is not religion, surely. Religion is not beliefs and dogmas, rituals and puja, putting on sacred threads, muttering some words, however old or however ancient they are. All those methods are a way of escaping from yourself through some kind of illusion. The escape which we call religion is not religion. Religion is something totally different, and the mystery of it is to find that which is not the invention of the mind. So, we have to find out what is real religion - the true religion which is not merely an invention of the mind; it does not matter whether it is the invention of Shankara or of anybody else as all such invention is still just a theory. Religion is something which is a state of being, which each one of us must find. That state of being cannot be understood, it may not come into being if we do not know how the mind creates illusions in its various subtle desires. As I said the other day, the mind is not just a superficial activity. Ganga is not just what we see on the top. Ganga is the whole river from the beginning to the end, from where it starts till it goes to the sea and you will be foolish to think that Ganga is just the water on the top. Similarly, we are very very complex entities and the inventions and the ideas, the theories, the superstitions, the rituals, the repetitions, the mantrams, those are just on the top. We have to go through and push all that aside, all of it, not just one or two ideas, not one or two beliefs or rituals that we do not like. That is very arduous, very difficult because most of us are afraid - afraid of what society, friends, parents say. But if one wants really to find out what is reality, God, one must go beyond all that, push all that aside. You can only push it aside if you understand and so go beyond. So religion is something which is entirely different from that in which we have been brought up. But, you see, very few of us are free from fear, and it is fear that prevents the discovery of what is God. Also, when we have fear, we become very insensitive. After all, when we look at a tree or a beautiful cloud or a beggar or a woman in tears or when we see something beautiful, the love of that thing, the love for itself, is the beginning of real religion. But, we do not live that way, we live in order to get something. I love my country because it is my country; this love of my country is a very subtle form of loving myself. But if you can love a tree, an animal, a human being - not for what it will give you but just to love it, without asking a thing in return - that is the beginning of religion. You can know that love only when there is no fear. When the mind is no longer afraid, then the mind can go beyond its own imaginations, its own projections, its own ideas. So, religion is something which is not an invention of the mind. It is a state of being in which the mind is not inventing as it does now because it functions in fear, in desire, in success, in ambition, in various forms of activities. Only when the mind has understood the whole working of itself, then there is a possibility of the mind being quiet, being very still. That stillness is not the peace of death; that stillness is very active, very alert, very watchful, intensive, passive. Then alone, one can find out; then alone that which we call God, truth, or whatever name you like, comes into being. But, one cannot come to it. One has to understand the trees, the love of the trees, the love of the beautiful; one has to understand sorrow, joy and all the struggles of human existence; and then one can go beyond all that when the mind is really a cessation of the self, `the me', it is only then that which we all worship, that which we are all seeking or trying to find out, comes into being. Question: What is emotion? Is it good or bad since human beings have it? Krishnamurti: Don't you know what emotions are? When somebody punches you, you cry; when somebody dies, you cry. When you see something beautiful, you laugh. It is a form of sensation, it is not right or wrong. You see, sirs and ladies, we always like to think in terms of good or bad - `this is right,' `this is wrong', `this is bad', `this is good' - and we think we have solved the whole problem of existence by giving it a name as good or bad. We want to suppress emotion in order not to feel, because emotion creates pain; or we say it is bad. But if it was a pleasurable emotion, we do not want to suppress it, we want to run with it, want to have more and more and more of it. So, emotion is a thing to be understood, to be watched over, to be cared for, so that you will understand it, so that you will not say it is good or bad. You know the instinct or rather the conditioning of the mind; it makes us call anything good or bad, as though you have really understood the little child if you call him good or bad, or call him naughty. If you want to understand the child, you study him, you watch him when he is playing when he is crying, when he is sleeping; you do not condemn him. But, you see, condemning something or somebody or some quality is so easy. You say `that is bad' and there it ends; but, to understand the thing requires a great deal of care, patience, attention; that means watchfulness. Question: What is a giant? Why are we afraid of it? Krishnamurti: You know, fairy tales are good to read, because they contain a lot of things very instructive. As there is always a reward, a boon, you ask for something; but, after asking you are always punished. You know, there is a fairy, a good angel or the good judge or the good something from whom you ask something, in all fairy stories. It gives you, but there is always a snag behind. Similarly in fairy tales, there is a giant. Question: When we are on the stage and acting, why is it that we cannot act freely? Krishnamurti: Do you act freely and easily all the time? Do you? When you are with older people, with people who are criticizing you, with people who are watching, do you act freely? No. We are shy, are we not? We put on airs. We become self-conscious. What happens? On the stage, you are confronted with a lot of people and you are shy. But, acting is all right when you are young and when you play with all this. But most of us, as we grow older, begin to act; we are posing; we think we are somebody and we must live up to that part; and we are always putting on a mask. Have you not noticed it? You think you are a great saint, a great idealist, and you put on that mask which is a pose. That is really one of our great misfortunes - which is, we are always taught to become something. The becoming something is posing, pretending. But if you do not become anything, if you are really simple as you are, there is no posing, there is no pretending, you are just what you are; and from there, you can go really far. Have I answered your question? Question: Why do the birds fly away when they see us? Krishnamurti: Why do you run away, when you see a big cow or when you meet a stranger? It is the same thing. Question: What is conflict and how does it arise in our mind? Krishnamurti: You want to be the captain of a Cricket team. But there is somebody else better than you. You do not like that. So, you have a conflict. Have you not? You want to get something and you cannot; and so, there is conflict. If you can get what you want, then the difficulty is to keep it; so, you struggle again or you want more of it. So, there is always a conflict going on, because you are always wanting something. If you are a clerk, you want to become a manager; if you have a cycle, you want a motor car and so on and on. If you are miserable, you want to be happy. So, what you want is not important, but what you are is important. The understanding of what you are, going into it, seeing all the implications of what you are - that frees you from conflict. Question: What is interest? Krishnamurti: When you have a toy, you are very interested in the working of that toy, are you not? Your whole mind is there, you do not think about any thing else. When you are interested in something, in a toy, in a play, in a dance, in an idea, you are completely absorbed in that. That is interest. Most of us have very little interest in life; as we grow older, we are not interested in anything really. So, we have trouble to prevent the mind from wandering away. So, we learn discipline, control, concentration. In a school of this kind, what we should find out -each one of us, including the teachers and the students - is what we are interested in, the thing which we love; and that creates no conflict in life afterwards. That is our vocation, that is what we want to do. If you are an artist and your parents and society want you to become a clerk, then you are forced to become a clerk and all the rest of your life you are struggling, struggling. Really, you have never been able to do what you want to do. Education is a way of helping each student to find out what he wants, which is quite a difficult thing, because we want so many things at different times. Education of the right kind can help you to find out amongst all the various interests what really gives you interest, that which you love, that which is one of the requisites, one of the necessities of life. Question: Why do we fear death? Krishnamurti: You have asked that question `Why do we fear death,' and do you know what death is? You see the green leaf; it has lived all the summer, danced in the wind, absorbed the sun light; the rains have washed it clean; and the winter comes, it withers and dies. The bird on the wing is a beautiful thing and it too withers and dies. You see human bodies being carried to the river, to be burnt. So, you know what death is. Why are you afraid of it? Because, you are living like the leaf, like the bird - a disease or something else happens to you, and you are finished. So, you say `I want to live, I want to enjoy, I want to have this thing called life to go on in me.' So, the fear of death is the fear of coming to an end, is it not?, your not playing cricket, not enjoying the sun light, not seeing the river again, not putting on your old clothes, not reading books, not meeting your friends constantly; all that comes to an end. So, you are frightened of death. Being frightened of death, knowing that death is inevitable, we think of how to go beyond death, we have various theories. But, if we know how to end, there is no fear; if we know how to die each day, then there is no fear. You understand this? It is a little bit out of the line, we do not know how to die because we are always gathering, gathering, gathering. We always think in terms of tomorrow - `I am this and I will be that.' We are never complete in a day, we do not live as though there is only one day to be lived. You understand what I am talking about? We are always living in the tomorrow or in the yesterday. If somebody told you that you are going to die at the end of the day, what would you do? Would you not live richly for that day? We do not live the rich fulness of a day. We do not worship the day; we are always thinking of what we will be tomorrow - the cricket game that we are going to finish tomorrow, the examination that we are going to finish in six months, what we are going to do tomorrow, how we are going to enjoy our food, what kind of clothes we are going to buy and so on - always tomorrow or yesterday; and so, we are never living, we are always really dying in the wrong sense. If we live one day and finish with it and begin again another day as if it were something new, fresh, then there is no fear of death. To die, each day, to all the things that we have acquired, to all knowledge, to all the memories, to all the struggles, not to carry them over to the next day - in that there is beauty even though there is an ending, there is a renewal. Question: When we see new things, why do we like having them? Krishnamurti: New clothes, new toys, new bicycles, new pictures, new books, new pencils - you see something new and you want it. It is the same thing with the young and with the old. We all want to possess, we all want to acquire, and the shops are full of things we want to possess. We are never content with what we have or what we are. If I am stupid, I want to become clever. The man who is becoming clever is really a stupid person please think about it and you will see how true it is; because, a stupid person can never become clever, he will always remain stupid; but, if he understands, if he is aware that he is stupid, then that very awareness of his stupidity is the beginning of intelligence. But, we never think in those ways. You say `I am stupid, or I am told I am stupid. I must become clever like my brother or like that boy over there!' So, you get to acquire, to possess. But if you see you are stupid, if you know you are stupid, then you can begin; then that very awareness that you are stupid, does something. If I know I am blind, then I know what to do. I will walk very carefully, I will have a stick, move very quietly, very gently. But if I do not know I am blind, I will go all over the place. We do not acknowledge that we are stupid. I may be a little stupid, but I am trying to become very clever. Wisdom lies in understanding `what is.' Question: What is love? Krishnamurti: You have listened to me for three weeks. I have talked every morning, for five days a week, and then you ask me what is love? I have talked to you of love in different ways, of truth, of the mind, of the fears. You ask what is love? It is very sad, is it not?, because you do not know how careless you are when you ask that question. What matters is not what love is but not to know your own state, what you are. Do you mean to say that by asking another, a man knows what love is? The man who says `I want to know what love is' in order to have it, will never have loved. If you know that you have no love, then love will come to you. But to know it, you must know what you are, you must not try to become something which you are not. Do think about all these things. Do not spend your days merely studying, reading some books, playing games, but think about all these things. We are trying to arrange for some of the teachers to talk to you every day, to have an assembly at which all the teachers talk from time to time about all these matters. You may be bored with the teachers and with what they say. What they say may have some importance or no importance. But you have to listen to find out, have you not? If what they say is true or false or absurd or silly, you have to listen to find out; and to listen, you have to pay attention. So, do not accept anything they say. Find out. To be critical is very important, because it is the only way you will find out. You merely accept or listen with a bored air, because you are tired; if you are bored, you can never find out. If you pay attention to everything that the teacher tells you, what everybody tells you including myself - not to accept, but to understand, to find out - then, that sharpens your mind and quickens your heart. Then, when you have finished with the school, when you go to the college, you have a mind which can deal with the complexities of life. Question: How can we shake off national and provincial feelings? Krishnamurti: First understand if you have got them, how you have created them. It is no good saying `I must put them off.' Why have you got them? Because your parents, your society, your neighbours, your teachers, your newspapers, your books, have all set up nationalism, provincialism, for various complicated and subtle reasons - to control you, to shape you, to make you do things they think you ought to do. A general will say nationalism is important, because then he can use you, through nationalism, to fight, to kill. There are various reasons why you have these feelings of nationalism, of provincialism; and also, you like them. You like to say `I am a Hindu, I am a Brahmin, I belong to this little part of India.' And the parties, the priests, the clever ones, use you to get what they want. If you understand it, then there will be no problem, it will drop away; then, you will laugh at the whole thing. If you do not understand, it will be very difficult to put away this stupid nationalism and provincialism. Question: Why is there danger? Krishnamurti: Is there no danger when you go near the precipice? Is there no danger of getting drowned when you do not know how to swim? Is there no danger when you meet a snake? Are you listening? Danger means fear of something, is it not? It is a natural thing to be aware of danger, that is a habit, protection, natural physical resistance. Otherwise, if you have no sense of danger, you might kill yourself any moment when a car dashes by; if you are not aware of the danger that it might destroy you, then you will be killed. So, this kind of awareness of danger is a form of self-protection, a response which is natural; but what is abnormal is when we want to protect ourselves inwardly; then, all the mischief, all the misery, begins. Question: Are you happy or not? Krishnamurti: The boy asks `Are you happy or not? I never thought about it. I never thought `Am I or not?' Happiness is not something of which you are conscious, you cannot ask yourself `Am I happy?' The moment you ask that question, you are unhappy. Happiness is something that comes, not because you are seeking it but because you are doing something which really interests you. You are doing something because you love it; in the very doing of it, there is something which is called happiness; but, if you are conscious that you are happy, it is already gone. The moment you say `I am happy', is not happiness already gone? You understand what I am talking about? Please ask your teachers to explain all these things; and if they do not understand and they do not explain it you search it out, do not accept anything. Do not be browbeaten, do not be bullied by the older people. Find out, enquire, search and never be satisfied; then, you will find out what it is to be happy. January 22, 1954 BANARAS, INDIA 10TH JANUARY 1954 1ST TALK AT BANARAS HINDU UNIVERSITY I think it is very important to find out for ourselves what the function of education is. There have been so many statements, so many books, so many philosophies and systems that have been invented or thought of by so many people, as to what the purpose of education is, what we live for. Apparently, every system so far has failed, including the very latest, because they have produced in the world neither peace among human beings nor deep cultural advance - the cultivation of the mind and the full development of the mind. Is it necessary to have this system? It seems to me it is very important for each one of us to find out what the function of education is, specially in an University, why we are educated and at what level is our education. Obviously, when you look round the world, you find education has failed because it has not stopped wars, it has not brought peace to the world nor has it brought about any kind of human understanding. On the contrary, our problems have been increased, there are more devastating wars, and greater misery. So, is it not important for each of us to find out what the whole intention of being educated is? Great authorities tell us what education is or what it is not or what it should be; but such authorities, like all specialists, do not give the true meaning of education. They have a particular point of view and, therefore, it is not a total point of view. Therefore, it seems to me, it is very important to put aside all authority of specialists, of educationists, and to find out for ourselves what the meaning of education is, why we are educated and at what level this education is to take place. Is education to take place at the technological level - that is, to have a job, to pass through various examinations in order to have a job - or is education a total process, not merely at the bread and butter level and the organization level of that kind? Is it not important for each one of us to find out what this education implies, the total education of man? If we can find out, not as a group of people but as individuals, what this education implies, what the principles of this total education of man are, we can create a different world. We see that so far, no form of revolution has produced peace in the world - even the communist revolution has not brought about great benefit to man - nor has any organized religion brought peace to man. Organized religions may give an illusory peace to the mind, but real peace between man and man has not been produced. So, is it not very important for each one of us to find out how to improve this state of affairs? We may pass examinations, we may have various kinds of jobs; but in an overpopulated country like India where there are so many linguistic and religious divisions, there is always a threatening of wars, there is no security, everything about us is disintegrating. In order to solve this problem, is it not important to enquire - not superficially, not argumentatively, not by putting one nation against another or one idea against another - and to find out, for each one of us, the truth of the matter? Surely, truth is entirely different from information, from knowledge. Neither battles nor the latest atomic destructive weapons, nor the totalitarian systems of thought, either political or religious, have solved anything. So we, you and I, cannot rely on any system or any opinion, but really try to find out what the whole purpose of being educated is. After all, that is what we are concerned with. Does education cease when you pass an examination and have a job? Is it not a continual process at all the different levels and processes of our consciousness, of our being, throughout life? That requires not mere assertion of information, but real understanding. Every religion, every school teacher, every political system, tells us what to do, what to think, what to hope for. But is it not now very important that each one of us should think out these problems for ourselves and be a light to ourselves. That is the real need of the present time - how to be a light to ourselves, how to be free from all the authoritative, hierarchical attitude to life, so that each one of us is a light to oneself. To be that, it is very important to find out how to be, how to let that light come into being. So, is it not the function of education to help man to bring about a total revolution? Most of us are concerned with partial revolution, economic or social. But the revolution of which I an talking is a total revolution of man, at all the levels of his consciousness, of his life, of his being. But, that requires a great deal of understanding. It is not the result of any theory or any system of thought. On the contrary, no system of thought can produce a revolution; it can only produce a particular effect which is not a revolution. But the revolution which is essential at the present time, can only come into being when there is a total apprehension of the process in which man's mind works - not according to any particular religion or any particular philosophy like Marxian or any system like the capitalist system - the understanding of ourselves as a total process. It seems to me, that is the only revolution that can bring about lasting peace. Surely, such a thing implies, does it not?, the unconditioning of the mind, because we are all conditioned by the climate, by the culture, by the religion, by the political or economic system, by the society in which we live. Our minds are shaped from the very beginning till we die; and so, we meet the problems of life either as a Hindu or as a Christian or as a communist or something else. Life is full of complications, it is all the time moving. Yet the way of our living is made by a conditioned mind and the conditioned mind translates the problems of life according to its own limitations. So, is it not important, if we would solve this problem, to find out how to uncondition the mind so that the meeting of the problem becomes much more important than. the mere solution of the problems? Most of us seek an answer to a problem. But, what is more important is how to meet the problem. If I know how to meet a problem, then I may not seek an answer. It is because I do not know how to meet the problem - the economic, the social, the religious, the sexual - that we are confronted with, my mind immediately seeks an answer, a way of how to resolve it. But if I know, if I am capable of meeting the problem, then I do not seek an answer. I shall meet and resolve it, or I shall know what to do with it. But as long as I do not know or have the capacity to find out, I go to another, to a guru, to a system, to a philosophy. All the gurus, all the teachers of philosophy, have completely failed because they make us into automatons, they tell us what to do. In the very process of following them in what we do, we have created more problems. So, is it not very important to find out how to think - but not what to do - and how to free the mind from all conditioning? A conditioned mind will translate the problems, will give significance to the problems, according to its conditioning, and the problems, when met with a limited mind, only are increased. It is therefore important to enquire if it is at all possible to free the mind from its own self-created limitations so as to be able to meet the complications, problems of living? I think the real issue is not whether you are a communist or a socialist or what not, but to be able to meet the very very complex problems of living, totally anew, with a new mind, with a mind that is not burdened, a mind that has no conclusions with which it meets the problems. Is it possible to have a new mind, a fresh mind, a clear mind, a mind which is not polluted, so as to meet this very living problem of existence? I say it is possible. Most of us think that it is impossible to free the mind of conditioning. We only think that the mind can be conditioned better, in a better pattern, in a better mould of action; but, we have never asked ourselves if the mind can totally uncondition itself. I do not know if you have ever thought about it, because most of us are thinking of how to improve, how to modify, how to change - the change, the modification and the improvement being a better condition, a better social relationship, a modified capitalism, a change in our attitude. But we never ask ourselves if it is possible for the mind to be totally free from all conditioning, so that it can meet life - life being not only an earning of livelihood, but the problem of war and peace, the problem of reality, of God, of death. Can all this, the whole process, be understood by a mind which is totally unconditioned? Or is not the function of education, from the very beginning till we pass out of the University, to help us to understand the conditioning influences and to know how to improve them, so that we shall be human beings in total revolution all the time? It is very important to find out how the mind works. After all, education is to understand how the mind works, and not merely to pass some examinations which will give us a job. It is the working of the mind that is creating the mischief; that is what is producing wars. Though we have scientific knowledge sufficient to help man to live sanely with health and with all the things that he needs, such living is almost impossible because the mind of man, which is conditioned as a Christian, as a Hindu, as an Indian, as a Pakistani, as a communist, as a socialist, as the believer and the non-believer, is preventing it. So, is it not important for each of us to understand the mind, not according to Sankara or Buddha or Marx, but according to ourselves, to see how our mind works? If we can understand, that will be the greatest revolution and, from there, a new series of action can take place. So, how is one to understand the mind? What does that word `understanding' mean? Is it merely the verbal understanding, is it merely superficial or is it the understanding that comes when, through the process of the activities of the mind, there is awareness, knowledge, there is no judgment, there is no comparison, but an observation in which there is the cessation of the movement of the mind? You understand? There is this problem of problems, the problem of war. There is the problem of hate, the problem of love and if there is reality, if there is God. How is one to understand these problems? One can only understand them if we can approach them with a free, quiet mind - not a mind that has a conclusion, not a mind that says `I know how to deal with the problem', but a mind that is capable of suspending all judgment, all com- parison. You see, the difficulty is, is it not?, our minds have been trained to function along a certain line. We know there is the conscious and the unconscious mind, and most of our activity is at the conscious level; we do not know the unconscious process of our mind. We have to earn a livelihood, or we do puja, or we imitate - all with the superficial mind. Is it not very important to understand the unconscious mind, because that is the directive? To understand the unconscious mind requires that the conscious mind shall be still; and this is only possible when through self-knowledge, through understanding the mind in relationship in daily life, I discover the process of my mind, being aware of the words I use, my habits, the way I talk, the customs, the rituals, those which I can see only in relationship with another. So, to understand the mind, I have to discover the total process of myself. It is that discovery in relationship with another - which is, after all, society - that brings about a total revolution in me; and it is that revolution that can meet these constant conflicts of life, these troublesome and extraordinary conflicts of existence. Perhaps, some of you would like to ask questions. There are no answers. There is only the problem, and if we are looking for an answer, we shall never understand the problem. If my mind is concerned with the solution of the problem, then I am not investigating the problem, I am only concerned how to find out, how to resolve it. You ask a question hoping I would give an answer. To me, there is only the problem, no answer. I will show you why. If I can understand the problem, I do not have to seek an answer. But the understanding of the problem requires an astonishing intelligence which is denied when I am concerned with an answer. If I can meet, for example, the problem of death, if I can understand the whole implication of it, the problem ceases to exist; but I can understand it when there is no fear. A gentleman asks how far I agree with Sankara who says `Eliminate the mind completely'. Not having read Sankara, I cannot answer. But I think it is very important to find out for ourselves, and not repeat Sankara or Buddha. Sirs, the difficulty with most of us is that we have read, we know what other people have said, but we do not know at all what we ourselves think. Truth is not something given to you through a book, through a teacher; you must find it out for yourself. Truth is not the ultimate truth but the simple truth of living, the truth of how to solve this economic problem which cannot be solved by merely having a revolution on that level. So, it is very important to find out for ourselves how to think. You cannot think if your mind is burdened with authority, with other beliefs. The truth of the Buddha or of the Christ or of Sankara is not your truth. Truth does not belong to any of us. It must be found. It can only be found when I understand the total process of my mind. For, the mind is the result of time and as long as I am thinking in time, I cannot find truth. So, if you compare what I say with what Sankara or Buddha has said, you will never find the truth of the matter. But you will find the truth of the matter if you can pursue your own mind in operation; that alone is the liberating factor, not an economic revolution or a social revolution. Question: Is there such a thing as an absolute truth, timeless, measureless and permanent. Krishnamurti: Is not truth something that is to be found from moment to moment - not a thing which is continuous, absolute, permanent? Those very words, `absolute', `permanent', `continuous', imply time and that which is of time cannot be true. That which is true is only from moment to moment and it cannot be continuous. What is continuous is memory. And memory can project anything any kind of illusion. But to find what is true, mind must be free from the process of time, from memory, from the experiencer and the experienced. To find out what is truth, the mind must be from moment to moment without continuity. Question: In your talk just now, you said that truth is beyond knowledge. Is knowledge of an unconditioned mind truth or falsehood? Krishnamurti: I do not understand the question. One of our difficulties is, we want to go into abstractions immediately. We want to know what truth is, we want to know what God is; but we do not know how to live without acquisitiveness. Instead of understanding that, we want to discuss what truth is; but a man who is acquisitive can never find out what truth is. But if I can begin to understand the whole process of acquisition, the demand for the more, the experience for the more, then perhaps, I shall understand what reality is. Question: To think for oneself is to think like others. Is it so? Krishnamurti: Is that not life? Is our thinking now so very different from others'? To think for oneself now is to think like anybody else, because we are all patterned after one type or another of belief or disbelief; so, we do not think individually, creatively; we all think alike. You think like a communist, if you are a communist; if you are a Hindu, you think like a Hindu. To think freely, you have to be aware of thinking alike, to understand all the implications of thinking alike, why you think alike, why you are conditioned. Obviously to think freely, completely, revolutionarily means great danger, is it not? You might lose your job. So, to think freely is to be unconditioned. But we are all conditioned in our own peculiar limited ways. So, If I know I am conditioned as a Hindu and if I free myself from that conditioning, then only is it possible for me to be entirely revolutionary, to be not like this or like that. But first I must know that I am conditioned, which very few of us are willing to admit. To know one is conditioned and to set about freeing the mind from that conditioning requires a great deal of insight, persistence, constant watchfulness, a watchfulness in which there is no judgment, no comparison. Then you will find the mind becomes very quiet, very still. Then only is it possible for the mind to know what truth is, what freedom is. Question: Man lives in poverty and fear. The gods of such a society are bread and security. What else can earnest men offer? Krishnamurti: To bring about a revolution in which bread and security are given to all, is that revolution? Is revolution merely at the economic level? You understand? We see there is poverty, hunger, every kind of economic misery. Earnest men want to see the necessity for change now. At what level is this change to be brought about? On the economic level only? Or is it necessary to have a total revolution in man's thinking? If such a total revolution is possible - I say it is possible -that is the only way of solving our problems. There can be real revolution only when you understand the total process of your being - which is, your thinking, the ways of your living - and cease to be a Hindu or a Christian when you are a total human being. Then only will the economic problem be solved, and not otherwise. Question: What is personality? How can it be built? Krishnamurti: You talk about personality as though it were something like building a house. The very desire of building a personality brings about self-enclosure. We are talking of something totally different from building a personality - coat, tie and trousers and clever talk, all that. We are talking of something entirely different, not of self-improvement, but of the cessation of the self - the self as a Hindu, the self as a professor, the self as a political or religious leader, the self that says `I must save the country', the self that says `I know the voice of God'. It is that self that must totally cease in order the world can live. Question: Agreeing that the mind is to be unconditioned, how is one to achieve it? Krishnamurti: If you agree that the mind must be unconditioned, how are you to achieve an unconditioned mind? I think most of us see the importance of the mind which is not conditioned. But actually most of us feel that the mind can be made better, with a better state of conditioning. That is one of the great fallacies. The problem is not how your mind and my mind are to be unconditioned, but how the conditioning of the mind takes place. The conditioning of the mind takes place through education, does it not?, through tradition, through family, through society, through religion, through belief. But, behind tradition, belief, experience, there is a desire; there is a mind that is constantly acquiring, possessing, dominating desire; it is that that conditions. Then, you will say `How am I to stop desire?' You cannot. But, if you understand the process of desire, then there is a possibility of desire coming to an end. Sirs, these problems are much too complex, to be discussed casually. You see again what is happening. We want to deal with abstractions. We do not see the importance of living from moment to moment, without authority, without fear, without the desire to find out that one is acting rightly. To find for oneself from moment to moment the way of living -the way you treat your servants, the way you talk to your superiors, the way you think and feel - it is there that the truth lies, not somewhere behind the Himalayas. But you see, we are not interested in all that. We are interested in discussing Sankara and other deep philosophies; that is an escape. But if I know the workings of my mind, the ways of my heart, then there is a possibility of bringing about a total revolution, and it is that revolution that can bring peace and security to the world. January 10, 1954 BANARAS, INDIA 17TH JANUARY 1954 2ND TALK AT BANARAS HINDU UNIVERSITY It seems to me that, without understanding the way our minds work, one cannot understand and resolve the very complex problems of living. This understanding cannot come through book knowledge. The mind is in itself quite a complex problem. In the very process of understanding one's own mind, the crisis which each one of us faces in life can somewhat be understood and gone beyond. I do not know if you have heard it said that the cultural influence of the west is destroying the so-called culture of the east. We accept one part of the western culture - science and militarism and nationalism - and yet retain our own so-called culture. Though we have taken off a part of the western culture, a section or a layer of it, this is gradually destroying, poisoning the other layers of our being. This can be seen when we look at the incongruity of our modern existence in India. I think it is very important and indicative how we are talking of India as taking on the western culture, without totally understanding what we are doing. We are not adopting entirely the western culture, but retaining our own and merely adding to it. The addition is the destructive quality, not the total adoption of the western culture. Our own minds are being destroyed by the adoption of certain western attitudes without understanding their attitude and their way of life. So there is a mixture of the western and the eastern in our minds. It seems to me that it is very important to understand the process of our own minds if we are not to be poisoned by an outside culture. Very few of us have really gone into the philosophies, the systems, the ideas of others, but we have merely adopted or imitated some of them. We do not know the workings of our own mind - the mind as it is, not as it should be or as we would like it to be. The mind is the only instrument we have, the instrument with which we think, we act, in which we have our being. If we do not understand that mind in operation as it is functioning in each one of us, any problem that we are confronted with will become more complex and more destructive. So, it seems to me, to understand one's mind is the first essential function of all education. What is our mind, yours and mine? Not according to Sankara or Buddha or someone else. If you do not follow my description of the mind, but actually, while listening to me, observe your own mind in operation, then perhaps it would be a profitable and worthwhile thing to go into the whole question of thought. What is our mind? It is the result, is it not?, of climate, of centuries of tradition, the so-called culture, social, economic influences, of the place, the ideas, the dogmas that society imprints on the mind through religion, through so-called knowledge and superficial information. Please observe your own minds, and not merely follow the description that I am giving, because the description has very little significance. If we can watch the operations of our mind, then perhaps we shall be able to deal with the problems of life as they concern us. The mind is divided into the conscious and the unconscious. If we do not like to use these two words, we might use the terms, superficial and the hidden, the superficial parts of the mind and the deeper layers of the mind. The whole of the conscious as well as the unconscious, the superficial as well as the hidden, the total process of our thinking - only part of which we are conscious of, and the rest which is the major part we are not conscious of - is what we call consciousness. This consciousness is time, is the result of centuries of man's endeavour. We are made to believe in certain ideas from childhood, we are conditioned by dogmas, by beliefs, by theories. Each one of us is conditioned by various influences and, from that conditioning, from those limited and unconscious influences, our thoughts spring and take the form of a communist, the Hindu, the Mussulman or the scientist. Thought obviously springs from the background of memory, of tradition, and it is with this background of both the conscious as well as the unconscious, the superficial as well as the deeper layers of the mind, we meet life. Life is always in movement, never static. But, our minds are static. Our minds are conditioned, held, tethered to dogma, to belief, to experience, to knowledge. With this tethered mind, with this mind that is so conditioned, so heavily held, we meet the life that is in constant movement. Life with its many complex and swiftly changing problems is never still, and it requires a fresh approach every day, every minute. So, when we meet this life, there is a constant struggle between the mind that is conditioned and static and the life that is in constant movement. That is what is happening, is it not? There is not only a conflict between life and the conditioned mind but such a mind meeting life, creates more problems. We acquire superficial knowledge, new ways of conquering nature, science. But the mind that has acquired knowledge, still remains in the conditioned state, bound to a particular form of belief. So, our problem is not how to meet life but how can the mind with all its conditioning, with its dogmas, beliefs, free itself? It is only the free mind that can meet, not the mind that is tethered to any system, to any belief, to any particular knowledge. So, is it not important, if we would not create more problems, if we would put an end to misery, sorrow, to understand the workings of our own minds? The understanding does not come into being by following anybody, it does not come through authority, it does not come through imitation or through any form of compulsion. But it comes into being when one is actually aware how one's mind is working. Each one of us can observe our motives, our activities, our purposes, understand them and solve this problem of existence without creating more misery, more wars, more confusion. To understand the workings of the mind is the most essential thing. After all, relationship is the mirror in which the mind can be seen in operation, the way I talk to the servant, the way I create a big mind. There, I can observe the operation of my mind and see the extraordinary intricacies of motives - for instance, when I do puja, the innumerable rituals, the absurdities of following somebody who offers you a heavenly reward. In the process of our relationship, we can observe the mind; and if we can observe it without any sense of judgment, without any sense of condemnation and comparison, then that observation begins to free the mind from the thing to which it is tethered. If you would experiment with this, you would see that your mind is tethered to a particular dogma, to a particular tradition. In that very observation, in that very awareness of the particular dogma or tradition to which the mind is bound - mere awareness without domination, without judgment. without wanting to be free - you will see that the mind begins, without making an effort, to free itself. Freedom comes without compulsion, without resistance, without struggle. Take, for instance, the superficial example of your doing a puja, a ritual as a Hindu or a Mussulman or a Christian whatever you are. You do it out of tradition, there is no thought behind it. Even if you think about it, the very thought about this puja is conditioned because you do it as a Hindu or a Christian. When you think about the Puja or the `mass', your thought is conditioned either to accept or reject; you cannot think about it afresh, anew, because your whole background or whole tradition, conscious as well as unconscious, the superficial and the deeper layers, are held in Hinduism or Christianity; and when you do think about it, there is no clarity but only a reaction which provokes another form of complication, another problem. I do not know if you have observed all these in yourself. If you have observed, how is one to be free from a ritual? I am taking that as a superficial example without an analytical process. I do not know if this is too complex or too difficult. When a particular issue is analysed the analysis is still conditioned, because the thinker is conditioned; his analysis is bound to be conditioned and, therefore, whatever he does, will produce problems more complex than the problem which he is trying to resolve. After all, in our thinking, there is the thinker and the thought, the observer and the observed. Now, when you do puja, the observer, the thinker, is always analysing what is wrong, what is right; but the analyser the observer, the thinker, is conditioned in himself. So, his analysis, his observations, his experiences are conditioned, are limited by bias. I think, till we see this really very important point, mere self-introspection and analysis - whether psychoanalysis or the analysis which intellectually and theoretically you perform on yourself - are utterly useless. Is there a thinker, an observer, an analyser, different from the observation, the analysis? Is there a thinker without the thought? If there is no thinking, there is no thinker. If the thinker were not a part of the mind, part of the consciousness, then that thinker must be free from all conditioning, in our analysis and understanding. But if one observes, there is no thinker without thinking. When I am thinking, I am analysing, I am observing, the I is still the result of thought which is conditioned. I, as a Hindu or Communist, observe. The thought which produces the I is the result of communist background or the result of a Hindu or Christian belief. So, the thinker is always conditioned as long as there is thought, because thought has produced the thinker, and thought is conditioned, limited by bias. Your thoughts arise. If you want to go into them deeply, the question arises whether thought can ever come to an end - which is not a forgetfulness, but which is really a very deep problem of meditation. As long as there is the meditator, meditation is illusion; because, the meditator is the result of thought, the result of a mind that is conditioned and is shaped by the whole process of living with its fears, apprehensions, ambitions, desires, longing for happiness, longing to be able to live with success, without fear or favour and so on. All that creates the thinker. We give a quality of permanency to the thinker who, we think, is above all passing, transient experience. But the thinker is the result of thought. There is no thinker if there is no thinking. So, there is only thought which is the reaction to a form of experience and that experience is the result of our condition. So, thought can never resolve our problems. Our problem is freedom from the conditioning which produces limited thought. This is the whole process of meditation, not the stereotyped traditional illusory form of meditation, but the meditation that comes into being when we understand the whole process of our thinking, the whole worries of our complex living, and in which there is no thinker, but only the uncovering of that and therefore the ending of that; and therefore at the time of such meditation the mind is still. This quality of stillness is not just acquired through some stupid determined effort to be quiet. The mind has to understand the whole significance of the thought process and how it creates the thinker, and understand the whole process about the stillness of the mind. It is in this stillness of the mind that the problems are resolved, and not multiplied by the stupidity of the thinker who is conditioned. I think really, you must go into this problem as most serious people must, because the crises are much too many and the problems that are pressing on us are much too intense. Surely, it is the function of education, not how to meet life but how to free the mind from all its conditioning, from all its traditional values, so that the free mind can meet and therefore resolve the innumerable problems that arise daily. Only then is it possible to realize what we call God, truth. It is only truth that resolves the problems. Question: Is it wrong to be full of desires and passions? Krishnamurti: Which is more important, to understand the desires and passions or to condemn them? The moment you use the word, `wrong' or `right' the implication is condemnation, is it not? If you are really interested, please follow it to the end. You are trained from childhood to condemn, because the older people do so; they have no time, no interest, and condemnation is the easiest way of resolving any problem. The question is `Is it wrong to have desires and passions?' The first thing to see is that any form of condemnation puts an end to every thought or thinking, to every form of investigation and enquiry. A mind which functions in `do's' and `don'ts,' is the most stupid mind. Unfortunately, most of us are educated with stupidity; when we can get over that, we can begin to enquire into the whole problem of desire, not if it is right or wrong but to understand it. Because, if we understand something, then it is no longer a problem to us. If I know how to run the motor, the engine, it is no problem to me; I do not say it is wrong or right, I know how to work it. If I do not know, I do not condemn the motor. The same is the case with desires. It is no use getting confused or frightened encouraging or condemning them. If I can understand the workings of desire, then the desire is no problem. It is only the fearful attitude towards desire, that creates the problem. Where is this I? What is desire? Please listen without any condemnation or justification. Desire has to be understood. In the very understanding of it, desire becomes something else, not a thing to be frightened, to be repressed. What is desire? I see a beautiful car, highly polished, new, of the latest model, full of power. There is perception, then there is contact, then sensation and desire. Desire is as simple as that -perception, contact, sensation and desire. Desire is born through this process of seeing, touching, sensation and desire. Then with that desire comes the urge to acquire and the identification process - which is, I desire that car. Then the whole problem arises whether I should desire or not desire, the desire being conditioned or questioned by my background. If you are brought up in America, you are psychologically persuaded all the time to possess a car. So, your desire to have a car is not a problem. But if your tendency is towards asceticism, towards renunciation, to turn to God, then the problem arises. Then there is the desire for various forms of beauty, of sensation, for various things for which the mind craves such as, comfort, security, a demand for permanency. We all want permanency - permanency in relationship, permanency in security, in continuity. Then we think there is a permanent God, there is permanent truth, and so on. Such an abstraction becomes theoretical, valueless, academic. If you can understand this process of desire, which is very complex, very subtle, then there is a possibility of the mind seeing all the significance of desire, all the implications, and going beyond it. But we do not understand the significance of all this but merely say `this is a right desire', `that is a wrong desire' and `the cultivation of right desire is essential'. If we adopt such an attitude towards desire, then the mind becomes merely an automatic, thoughtless, insensitive mechanism. Therefore, it cannot meet this whole complex problem of living. Question: I am afraid of death. What is death and how can I cease to be afraid of it? Krishnamurti: It is very easy to ask a question. There is no `Yes' or `No' answer to life. But our minds demand `Yes' or `No', because our minds have been trained in what to think not how to understand, how to see things. When we say `What is death and how can I not be afraid of it?', we want formulas, we want definitions; but we never know how to think about the problem. Let us see if we can think out the problem together. What is death? Ceasing to be, is it not?, coming to an end. We know that there is an ending, we see that every day all around us. But I do not want to die, the I being the process: `I am thinking, I am experiencing, my knowledge, the things which I have cultivated, the things against which I have resisted, the character, the experience, the knowledge, the precision and the capacity, the beauty'. I do not want all that to end, I want to go on, I have not yet finished it, I do not want to come to an end. Yet, there is an ending; obviously every organization that is functioning must come to an end. But my mind won't accept that. So, I begin to invent a creed, a continuity; I want to accept this because I have complete theories, complete conditioning - which is: I continue, there is reincarnation. We are not disputing whether that is continuity or not, whether there is rebirth or not. That is not the problem. The problem is that even though you have such beliefs, you are still afraid; because, after all, there is no certainty, there is always uncertainty. There is always this hankering after an assurance. So, the mind, knowing the ending, begins to have fear, longs to live as long as possible, seeks for more and more palliatives. The mind also believes in continuity after death. What is continuity? Does not continuity imply time, not the mere chronological time by a watch but time as a psychological process? I want to live. Because I think it is a continued process without any ending, my mind is always adding, gathering to itself in the hope of continuity. So, the mind thinks in terms of time and if it can have continuity in time, then it is not afraid. What is immortality? The continuity of the me is what we call immortality - the me at a higher level, the Atma, or whatever you call it. You hope that the me will continue. The me is still within the field of thought, is it not? You have thought about it. The me, however superior you may think it to be, is the product of thought; and that is conditioned, is born of time. Sirs, do not merely follow the logic of what I say, but see the full significance of it. Really immortality is not of time, and therefore, not of the mind, not a thing born out of my longings, my demands, my fears, my urges. One sees that life has an ending, a sudden ending, what lived yesterday may not live today, and what lives today may not live tomorrow. Life has certainly an ending. It is a fact, but we won't admit it. You are different from yesterday. Various things, various contacts, reactions, compulsions, resistance, influence, change `what was' or put an end to it. A man who is really creative, must have an ending, and he accepts it. But we won't accept it, because our minds are so accustomed to the process of accumulation. We say `I have learnt this today', `I learnt that yesterday'. We think only in terms of time, in terms of continuity. If we do not think in terms of continuity, there will be an ending, there will be dying, and we would see things clearly, as simple as they are, directly. We do not admit the fact of ending because our minds seek, in continuity, security in the family, in property, in our profession, in any job we do. Therefore, we are afraid. It is only a mind that is free from the acquisitive pursuit of security, free from the desire to continue, from the process of continuity, that will know what immortality is, but the mind that is seeking personal immortality, the me wanting to continue, will never know, what mortality is; such a mind will never know the significance of fear and death, and go beyond. Question: Thinking does not solve the problem, it is its product. Is this not a piece of thinking or is this different from the thinking which you impugn? Krishnamurti: When one sees the limitations of reason, one goes beyond reason. But one must know how to think, how to reason. But if you do not know how to reason, how to think, you can never go beyond it. Most of us do not know what thinking is, we know what to think, which is entirely different. But to know the extraordinary complexity of the mind which cannot be learnt from another, to find out for yourself how the mind works, you have really to observe. What you learn of psychology or philosophy in a college or in a lecture hall, is not a living thing, that is a dead thing. But if you observe your own thoughts and action in daily living -when you talk to a servant, or to your wife or child, when you react to beauty - if you see your motives in action, then, out of that observation, you will know the various barriers of your mind, how the mind deceives itself, how the mind twists in the knowing of it, in the way it reasons. Seeing all that, you go beyond all thought, beyond reason, and there is freedom. This is not a thing to be casually interested in or casually repeated. Some of you who have heard me may say, `Poor fellow!. He does not know what he is talking about. How can thinking come to an end? If there was no thinking, how could there be progress of the questions that the mind puts in order to understand the whole complex problem of thought?' It is very important to find out how we think. Unfortunately, most of our educationists teach you what to think, and you repeat. If you can repeat either in Sanskrit or in English or in any other language, you think you are marvellously learned. But to find out, to discover, the ways in which your mind works, and to speak of what you have discovered, without repeating what another has said, is a tremendous thing; that is the indication of initiative; that is the beginning of creative living. Unfortunately, in India, we are clerks from the high to the low; we have been trained in what to think. That is why we are never revolutionary in the deep creative sense. We are merely gramophone records, playing the same tune. Therefore, there is never true discovery. Question: What is the significance of life? Krishnamurti: The significance of life is living. Do we live, is life worth living when there is fear, when our whole life is trained in imitation, in copying? In following authority, is there living? Are you living when you follow somebody, it does not matter if he is the greatest saint or the greatest politician or the greatest scholar? If you observe your own ways, you will see that you do nothing but follow somebody or another. This process of following is what we call `living', and then, at the end of it, you say `What is the significance of life?' To you, life has significance now; the significance can come only when you put away all this authority. It is very difficult to put away authority. What is freedom from authority? You can break a law, that is not the freedom from authority. But there is freedom in understanding the whole process, how the mind creates authority, how each one of us is confused and therefore wants to be assured that he lives the right kind of life. Because we want to be told what to do, we are exploited by gurus, spiritual as well as scientific. We do not know the significance of life as long as we are copying, imitating, following. How can one know the significance of life when all that one is seeking is success? That is our life; we want success, we want to be completely secure inwardly and outwardly, we want somebody to tell us that we are doing right, that we are following the right path leading to salvation, to moksha and so on. All our life is following a tradition, the tradition of yesterday or of thousands of years; and every experience we make into an authority to help us to achieve a result. So, we do not know the significance of life. All that we know is fear - fear of what somebody says, fear of dying, fear of not getting what we want, fear of committing wrong, fear of doing good. Our mind is so confused, caught in theory, that we cannot describe what significance life has to us. Life is something extraordinary. When the questioner asks `What is the significance of life?', he wants a definition. All that he will know is the definition, mere words, and not the deeper significance, the extraordinary richness, the sensitivity to beauty, the immensity of living. Question: How can peace be established in the world? We and the whole world are trying to be in peaceful atmosphere; but the dangers of the world war are approaching towards us. Krishnamurti: We want to live in peace. Do you? Don't you compete with your neighbour? Don't you want a job, as much as your neighbour? Don't you hate? Don't you call yourself an Indian with all the patriotic nonsense of conflicts? How can you have peace when you are doing the opposite thing, the thing which is contrary to peace? As long as you call yourself a Hindu or a Mussulman or a Christian or a communist, you will never have peace in the world. Peace is in the layman. As long as one is following one party, political or otherwise, opposed to another party, as long as politics is merely a division of power, obviously you will have no peace in the world. Politicians are not concerned with people, they are concerned with power; and as long as the party system exists, there must be no peace, there cannot be any peace. This does not mean that there must be only one party. Parties really are not concerned with people at all; they are concerned with ideas of how to give people food, and therefore there is little action in the matter of actually giving food. So, as long as we are pursuing the path of war, as long as we have armies, police and lawyers, we will have wars. We are talking all the time about non-violence, and yet we support armies. On the one hand, we are prepared in ourselves, through our present-day education, to hate one another; and on the other hand, we want peace. In ourselves, we are in contradiction, each one of us - the nation, the group, the race. There can be peace in the world only when that contradiction in each one of us is dissolved. What is essential is for each one of us to think out for oneself, to enquire, to search out. Repetition of slogans or the carrying of flags are of little use. We want to be nationalistic, we want to have our flag. Because, the individual through identifying with the greater gets a satisfaction, gets a sense of security. That is what is being done in India, America, Russia and elsewhere. So, we are preparing for complete and utter destruction. In schools and universities, our education is nothing but the cultivation of this hatred and aggressive acquisitiveness. Peace is surely something which is not a reaction to a particular system of society, to a particular-organization, to ideas or action. Peace is something entirely different. It comes into being, surely, when the whole total process of man is understood, which is the understanding of myself. This self-knowledge cannot be had from a book, cannot be learnt from another. When there is love in your heart and when you observe and understand yourself every moment of your life, truth comes into being; and out of that truth comes peace. January 17, 1954 BANARAS, INDIA 24TH JANUARY 1954 3RD TALK AT BANARAS HINDU UNIVERSITY The problem of knowledge and specialization, it seems to me, is very important. Let us consider it and see if the mind which is trained in specialization and in knowledge can be free to investigate and to discover whether there is nothing more beyond what it has known, where knowledge is leading us to, and the significance of specialization. There are many avenues of knowledge and more and more information on a vast scale is becoming available to us. Where is it all leading us to? What is the function of knowledge? We see knowledge is essentially at a certain level, in our conscious and unconscious living, in our existence. Can such knowledge be a hindrance to further investigation of man's realization of the total significance - of existence? For instance, I may know, as an individual how to build a bridge. Will that knowledge bring about a radical change in my ways of thinking? It may produce a superficial change or adjustment. But, at this present crisis in the world, which is necessary a mere superficial adjustment or a radical revolution? It seems to me that the revolution born of any particular pattern of action is not revolution at all and that, if we are to bring about a new generation with a new way of thinking, we must find out what the function of knowledge is. What is knowledge, not the dictionary meaning or a definition? Is it not the cultivation of memory along a particular line? Is it not the development of the faculty of gathering information to be utilized towards a particular end? Without knowledge, obviously, modern existence is almost impossible. Can knowledge which is the cultivation of memory, the gathering of information and the using of that information for special purposes - for surgery, for wars, for uncovering scientific new facts and so on - be a hindrance to the total understanding of human society? As I said, knowledge may be particularly useful at one particular level. But if we do not understand the total process of human existence, will not that knowledge be a hindrance to human peace? For example, we have scientific information enough to create food for the whole of mankind, to give them shelter. Why is it that, that scientific knowledge is not used? Is that not a problem to most of us? Is not that very knowledge preventing the consideration of human understanding and peace? What is preventing the stoppage of war, of feeding man, clothing him, giving him shelter? It is surely not knowledge, it is something entirely different. It is nationalism and vested interests in various forms - capitalistic or communistic or of a particular religious group - which are preventing the coming-together of man. Unless there is a radical change in our ways of thinking, knowledge is used, is it not?, for the further destruction of man. What are the universities of learning doing, the academic as well as the spiritual? Are they producing, bringing about, a fundamental revolution in our hearts and minds? It seems to me, that is the fundamental issue and not the constant accumulation of further information and knowledge. Can a total revolution take place through knowledge which is, after all the continual development of the mind through memory? I may know about various facts, I may know the distances between the various planets, I may know how to run jet planes; but, will that knowledge, will that information, bring about a radical change in my thinking? If it cannot, what will it bring about? Is it not a problem for most of us? We want peace in this world, we want to put an end to envy which human individuals raise in their search for power, we want to put an end to wars. How is this to be done? Will mere accumulation of knowledge put an end to wars, or must there be a radical revolution in our thinking? Will thinking produce that revolution? I do not know if you have considered any of these points; but, it seems to me, a revolution based according to a particular pattern of thought is not a revolution at all. After all, thinking is the response to a particular condition, response to a challenge according to a particular background. I will respond to a challenge, according to my conditioning, to my background, to my training, to my upbringing as a Christian or a Hindu or a Mussulman or what I am. How is that background, that conditioning, that peculiar pattern of action to cease and a new way of thinking to be born? Is this not a problem to most of us? Because, there cannot be a radical revolution unless the breaking takes place of all the background, of the pattern of our constant thinking along a particular line. Will knowledge, the accumulation of information about facts bring about the breaking of my conditioning? Yet, this is what we are doing; we are constantly accumulating information, knowledge, we are training our memory. All this is important at one particular level. We may know or we may search out information about the whole consciousness of man, about the psychological process of uncovering oneself - mostly intellectual, mostly verbal - through specialization. But, will that bring about a radical change? It seems to me that mere information, knowledge, will not bring about a radical change. There must be a totally different factor; and that is the understanding of the process of consciousness, of the mind that is constantly accumulating, gathering information. Why are we gathering information knowledge? It is for the purpose of security which is essential at one level of our being. Some people think that knowledge is a means of discovery. Do we discover through knowledge? Does not knowledge impede discovery? How can the mind find this out if the whole mind is trained to merely gather information, knowledge? Must not the mind examine this question free from an anchorage, from any belief, from any knowledge? The mind having information, having knowledge, must be free of it in order to find out otherwise, it cannot find out. After all, there is a conflict in all of us between the conscious and the unconscious, between the superficial ways of thinking and the hidden process of motives, desires, anxieties and fears. We are gathering information, knowledge at the superficial level without fundamentally altering the deeper levels of our consciousness. The most important thing at the present crisis is that the revolution should take place at the unconscious level and not merely at the conscious level. The revolution at the unconscious level is not possible if merely the conscious mind is cultivating memory. Is it not the problem with all of us how to bring about this revolution deep in ourselves? After all, the individual is the man; you, from me; and it is the individual that brings about the radical transformation. History shows how a few individuals, different from others in their way of living, have wrought a change in society. Unless we individually transform ourselves deeply, fundamentally, I do not see any possibility of having peace, tranquillity, in this world. How is the individual - that is, you and I - to change radically in the deep unconscious level? Is it brought about by the practice of a particular ideal, or a particular virtue? Is not the cultivation of a particular virtue merely the strengthening of that consciousness which is pursuing the accumulative process of memory, the strengthening of the self, of the ego? Is not the practice of a particular idea or an ideology still a strengthening of the self, the me, with the inevitable conflict within and without, which is the fundamental cause of wars? Can there be a revolution in `the me' through the action of will? I do not know if you have exercised will in order to bring about a change. You must have noticed that the action of will is still at the conscious level and not at the unconscious level, and mere alteration or exercise of will at the conscious level does not produce a revolution, an alteration, a radical change in our ways of thinking. So, is it not important to find out, for each one of us, how the mind works, not according to any particular philosophy but actually observing the ways of our mind in action, the ways of our life, so that through the understanding of the superficial mind, it may be possible to go beneath the surface and understand the mind? As I was saying last Sunday, unless we bring about an integration between the thinker and the thought, mere thinking, reason, philosophy, accumulation of knowledge will be used by the thinker as a means of either self-aggrandizement of the individual or of a group, or propagation of a particular ideology. So, it is important for those who are really serious about these matters, to find out how the total integration of man can take place. Obviously, it cannot be through any form of compulsion or persuasion, or through disciplinary processes, or through any action of will; because, they are all, if one really looks at it, on the surface level. So our problem then is; how is this total transformation of our being to come about? We have tried through authority, through compulsion, through conformity, through imitation. If we understand the truth of compulsion, the truth of discipline, the truth of imitation or conformity, the superficial mind becomes free from these compulsory imitative processes; and so the superficial mind becomes quiet. Then, the total, unconscious processes can project themselves into the conscious and, in their projection, there is a possibility of uncovering them, understanding them and being free. Whenever there is understanding of any deep facts of life, the mind is invariably still, not making an effort to understand. It is only when the mind is entirely still, that there is a possibility of an understanding which brings about a radical revolution in our life. Question: I have to study a boring book. I don't find any interest in it, yet I cannot but study it. How am I to create an interest in it? Krishnamurti: How can you create interest, sir, if you are not interested in something? How falsely we think about life; Your parents send you to a University, to a College. They never enquire, nor do the teachers and the professors enquire, about your true vocation, your true interests. Because of political, economic and social conditions, you are pushed in a particular groove, you are forced to become a mathematician, when you are really interested in painting and so, you say `How am I to be interested in mathematics?' In a country where there is overpopulation, innumerable economic, social and religious conditioning, it is almost impossible to break away and do what one really wants to do. But, to find out what one wants to do, to discover the capacity of each one, is extremely difficult. That requires a total revolution in our educational process, does it not? Because most of us here are trained to be alike, we are not able to do anything for which we have the capacity or the inclination, and so most of us become low paid clerks. Interest in a book is not possible, because you have not found your own true vocation. I think it is far more important to live creatively than to pass examinations, than to have a few degrees. I think it is much better to starve, if necessary, doing what one wants to do than being compelled to do what one loathes. Because, when one does under compulsion what one loathes, then one destroys the mind; life then becomes a rotten, ugly thing, like the life which most of us are leading. Question: What is your opinion on concentration, on Sushumna and the Chakras, and on Om? These are mentioned in books regarded by us as most authoritative, although perhaps not read by yourself. The Tantras contain an enormous amount of information on individual mantras, individual Pranayama, yantras, etc, as a means of realization. All this is practically forgotten in modern India but is known to a few Gurus who remain hidden. What is your esteemed opinion about this? Krishnamurti: Concentration? Fixing the mind, in a particular puja, on an idea, giving full attention to it? If there is any form of compulsion, any form of effort in concentration, is that concentration? Is it concentration when there is any form of exercising will in order to concentrate? In that process of doing the puja on which you concentrate, there is the entity that concentrates, that says `I must concentrate.' So, there is a dual process, is there not? Perhaps, this is a little out of the way and I hope you don't mind my discussing this, my going into this question because, it seems to me, we have a wrong formulation of what is concentration. If I concentrate on reading a book which I find boring but through which, I think, I am going to get a result or success, is that concentration? In that, is there not a dual process in operation, the concentrator and the thing upon which he concentrates? In this dual process, is there not a conflict between the concentrator and the thing upon which he concentrates? If there is any form of effort, to push away other forms, to control the mind so that it will concentrate on one particular idea or series of ideas, is that concentration or something entirely different? In the usual concentration which we know, one part of the mind can concentrates on another part which is an idea, which is a symbol - an image and so on. In that process, various other parts of the mind come and interfere and so, there is constant conflict going on, the straying of the mind as it is called. Is it possible not to create this conflict but to be total attentive, to be completely one with the thing that you are meditating upon and to really understand? It is important to find out the meditator and to understand the meditator, not the thing upon which it meditates or concentrates but the meditator himself because this whole question is concerned with the meditator, not the thing upon which it meditates. If one goes really deeply into the question, we only know that the meditator is meditating upon something and in his attempt to meditate there is a constant conflict, constant control, constant battle going on between the meditator and the thing upon which he meditates. When there is the understanding of the ways of the meditator not only at the conscious level but also at the deeper levels of consciousness it is possible to find out the truth. Truth cannot be found when there is the separation and then the control of the one over the other. It can be found only when the mind is utterly still, not through any form of compulsion, discipline; and the mind cannot be still as long as there is the meditator as a separate entity who is always seeking, searching, gathering, denying. Really, this question, being very complicated and subtle, should be discussed very carefully, and not answered or passed off in a few of minutes. There is no answer, but only the problem. The answer lies in understanding what the problem is; but most of us, unfortunately, want to find the answer `yes' or `no,' and we listen with that attitude. But if we can put away that attitude and merely concern ourselves with the problem, then, there is real concentration without any effort. There may be so many methods of concentration, advocated by others; but they are all bound to be leading nowhere. We have to understand the whole process of the entity who concentrates. Meditation is the understanding of the meditator. Only in such meditation is it possible for the mind to go beyond itself and not be caught in the illusion of its own projection. Question: The burning question of our time is war. You suggested that war can be avoided if individuals are integrated in themselves. Is this integration of the individual possible? As far as I know, there is no such individual. Even the best institutions like the League of Nations and the U.N.O. have been rendered ineffective by the egotistic self-interest of individuals or groups. Krishnamurti: The question is: is integration possible? What do we mean by integration? Integration between the various processes of our thinking, of our doing, of our consciousness; integration between hatred and love, between envy and generosity, between the various cleavages, between the various components in our total make up - is that what we mean by integration? Or is integration something entirely different? Now, we think in terms of changing hate into love. Is that possible? If I hate, which is important: that I should love, or that I should understand what is hatred? Is it not important for me to understand the whole process of hate, not the ideal of love? If I am envious, what is important is not to be free from envy, not to have the ideal of love or of generosity and so on, but to understand the whole process of envy The understanding of `what is` is more important than `what should be'. If I am stupid, it is very important to understand that I am stupid, to know that I am stupid, not how to arrive at cleverness. The moment I understand the whole problem of how stupidity comes into being, then, naturally, there will be intelligence. So, is integration to be brought about by the dual process involved in our thinking, or does integration come into being only when `what is' is understood without any concern for `what should be'? Integration takes place only when I understand what I am actually - not what I am according to Sankara, Buddha, or any modern psychologist, or a communist. That actuality I can find out only in my relationship of dual existence, the way I talk to people, the way I treat people, my ideas as I have them. Life is, after all, a mirror in which I can see myself in operation. But we cannot see what is actually taking place because we want to be something totally different from what we are. I think integration is possible only when I see what I am actually, without the blinding process of an ideology or an ideal. Then it is possible to bring about a radical change in what I am, in `what is'. Question: How do these illuminating talks fulfil and help your purpose? The world has been listening since a long time to the gospel of revolt, the cult of attaining to supreme truth or burning oneself and thereby achieving the highest and the sublimest. But, what is the reaction, is it creative or recreative? Krishnamurti: What do you mean by fulfiling? You ask whether these talks help you to fulfil. Do you think there is such a thing as fulfilment? It is only when you are thwarted that you want to fulfil. It is only when you want to become a judge or somebody, that there is the fear of not fulfilling. But if you do not want to become anything, then there is no problem of fulfilment. All of us want to become something, either in this world or in the next world, inwardly or outwardly; and our purpose is well defined, because our desires are always compelling us towards a particular end which we call fulfilment. If we do not understand these desires and when they are thwarted, there is conflict, misery, pain, and so an everlasting search for fulfilment. But, when one begins to understand the ways of desire, the innumerable urges, conscious as well as unconscious, there is no question of fulfilling. It is the self the me, that is always craving to fulfil, either as the great people of this land or to fulfil inwardly - to become something, to attain liberation, moksha or what you will. But if we understand the implications of desire - that is, the implications of the self, of the me - then there is no question of fulfilling. Question: Does not the emphasis on quieting the mind reduce creativity? Krishnamurti: What is creativity and what is understanding? To understand creativity, there must be no fear. Is it not so? After all, most of our minds are imitative. We are ridden by authority, we have innumerable fears, conscious as well as unconscious. A mind so elaborate so small, so petty, so conditioned - can such a mind be creative? It can only be creative in the deeper sense of the word - not in the sense of writing off a couple of poems or painting some pictures - when you understand the whole process of fear. To find out fear, must you not search the workings of your mind, must you not be watchful of the ways how the mind imitates, why it copies authority? It is only then it is possible for the mind to be creative. Is the mind creative or is creativeness something entirely different? After all, what is the mind? Mind is the result of time, time being a process. Mind is the result of the past, the past being the culture, the tradition, the experience, the various economic and other unconscious influences; all that is the mind. Can the mind which is the result of time, be creative? Is not creativeness something out of time, beyond time, and therefore, beyond the mind? There is no Indian creativeness or European creativeness. Culture is not Indian or European, occidental or oriental; the expression of it may be. That creative something, that creative reality, that truth, God, what you will, is surely beyond time. The mind that is the result of time cannot conceive or experience the unknown; so, the mind has to free itself from the known, from the knowledge, from the various experiences, traditions; then only would it be capable of receiving the unknown. It is the unknown that is creative, not the mind that knows how to create. Question: When there is conflict between the heart and the mind, which should be followed? Krishnamurti: Is conflict necessary? Is this not the question; what to follow the mind or the heart? First, let us understand if conflict is necessary. When the conflict arises, then the question comes into being as to which I should follow, this or that. Why do we have conflicts? Will conflict produce understanding? Perhaps you think this I am not answering your question. All that you want to know is what you should follow. It is a very superficial demand, and you are satisfied if you are merely told what to do. Unfortunately, as most of us are today, we know only what to think, not how to think; therefore, the problem becomes very superficial. If we want to think out a question of this kind, we must put aside `what to think' and enquire into `how to think'. If we know how to think, the problem is not. But, if you say, `I must follow this', or `I must not follow that' or `which shall I choose?', then the problem arises. If you once really go into it clearly, deeply, the problem `what to do' is a choice, is it not? Will choice clarify or put an end to conflict? Is there not another way of acting, not between the two, but which is the understanding of the demands of the mind and the demands of the heart without saying which should be done. Between them all, I must not follow one or the other but understand each demand, not in comparison. Then only is it possible to free the mind from choice and therefore conflict. All this requires a mind that is really attentive not only to what I am saying but also to its own processes and understands them. But very few of us want to do that. Very few of us are serious. We are serious about something superficial - diversion or excitement. But to really go into the whole problem of existence, of the ways of thought, requires not an hour's attention at a particular meeting but requires the understanding of the mind all the time as it lives and acts. For that, few of us are willing. In that, there is no risk, you do not get a good job, you do not become famous, you do not become successful. As long as we want to become famous, successful, powerful, popular, we would create misery, conflict which brings about war. January 24, 1954 BOMBAY 1ST PUBLIC TALK 7TH FEBRUARY 1954 I would like this evening to discuss the problem of change. It is really quite a complex problem and I do not know if you have thought about it. If you have, you must have seen how extraordinarily difficult it is to bring about a change in oneself. We see the necessity of change, of a certain adjustment to life, of a radical revolution in oneself at certain moments - not along any particular pattern of thought or compulsion. Observing the various complications of existence, one feels the immense desire of bringing about a revolution in oneself. You must have thought about it - at least those of you who are serious - how this change is to be brought about, how it will affect the relationship that one has with another or with society, and whether this revolution will affect society. It is really, if you go into it, a very very complex problem involving a great many issues, not only on the superficial level of our thinking, but also deeply at the unconscious level. But before I go into it, I would like to say that, as I begin to explore the problem, you should kindly listen without resistance; then perhaps, if you are listening attentively and without any resistance, it may be possible to find yourself in that state of total revolution in yourself. After all, that is the purpose of my talking -not to convince you of any particular form of change, not to say that you must change according to a certain pattern; that is not at all change; that is merely adjustment, conformity to a particular pattern of action which is not change; that is not revolution. If you listen without any resistance, then I am sure you will be in a state of revolution in yourself, not because of any compulsion from me, but naturally. So I would suggest, if I may, that you should listen without resistance. Most of us do not listen at all. We listen with an intention, with a motive, with a purpose which indicates an effort. Through effort one never understands anything. Please see the importance of this. If you have to understand something you must listen without effort, without compulsion, without any form of resistance, bias, opinion or judgment. This is quite a difficult thing in itself and we do not know how to listen. The problem is not how to bring about a change. If one can listen rightly without any form of resistance, the change will come about without a conscious act. I do not think a radical change can come about through any conscious action, through any motivation, through any form of compulsion, through any motive. I will go on to explain how this change comes into being without motivation. But to understand that, one must have an attentive attitude of listening, without any barrier, without any restriction, without any resistance. The moment you hear the word `revolt', `change', or `revolution', that word has a definite meaning to you, either according to the dictionary, or according to the Communists, or according to the Socialists, or, if you are a religious person, according to your own particular pattern of thought. These patterns of thought are constantly interfering with what you are listening to. So the difficulty is going to be, not the understanding of the problem itself but how we approach the problem, how we listen to the problem. This is really very important to understand before we can go into any problem. To bring about understanding requires no resistance to what you hear, but the following of the current of thought that one is listening to. One cannot follow if one is merely resisting, translating, putting against it barriers of one's own ideas. If we can listen without resistance, we can think out together then, together we will find the mind in a state of change, which comes into being without any form of persuasion, reason, or logical conclusion. I think that, for most of us who are aware of world events and the things that are happening in this country, some kind of revolution is necessary; some kind of a change of attitude, of thought, a revolution in one's sense of values is essential. It is obvious that there must be a change to bring about peace, to have sufficient food for all the world, to bring about human understanding. To cultivate the total development of man, some kind of a vital, total change is necessary. Now, how is this change to be brought about and what does this change imply? Is there change when the mind, thought, is merely conforming to the pattern of a particular culture - the Indian, the Christian, the Buddhist - or to the Communist pattern of thought and action? Can conformity at any level of our existence bring about change? Obviously, if one conforms to a pattern, either imposed or developed by oneself, it is no longer change; because the pattern, the end, is the result of our conditioning. If I, as a Hindu or a Communist or a Christian, change according to the plan on which I have been brought up, according to an idea, according to a particular mode of thinking, surely that is not change because I am merely conforming to a conditioned reaction. And when I change myself according to the pattern of a fear, of a defence, of a tradition, obviously that is not change; that is not revolution, that is not a radical revolt from "what is". So, in enquiring into the question of change, must I not enquire how my mind functions? Must I not be aware of the total process of my thought? Because, if there is any form of fear and that fear makes me change, it is not change; the fear projects at pattern and according to that pattern I change; it is merely conformity to a particular pattern projected by fear. If I wish to bring about change, must I not enquire into the many many layers of my being, both of the conscious as well as of the unconscious? must I not enquire into the superficial reactions of my thoughts and motives, the deep underlying currents from which all thought, all action, springs? If I wish to change, can I have a pattern according to which I change? Though I repeat this, please pay attention to what I am saying; otherwise, you will miss what is coming. I see the necessity of change in myself and in society. Society is my relationship with another, and in that relationship, which I call society there must be change, there must be total uprooting and complete revolution of thought. As I see the importance of it, my question is: How is this to be done? Is it a matter of intellectual reasoning, having a knowledge of history and translating that history, or having information of various social affairs, reformations? Will all this knowledge bring about revolution, the total change of me, in my thinking, in my attitude, in my activities, in my thoughts? So must I not enquire if I am serious about this matter of change? Must I not enquire into my motivation for change, the urge to change? Does the urge to change bring about a radical change? The urge may be merely a reaction to my conditioning, to my background, to the various social, economic, or cultural impressions. Can change be brought about through any form of compulsion? Or is there a change which is not of time? Let me put it this way: We know change in terms of time, being the compulsion of various forms of society, of culture, of relationship, of fears, of the desire to gain or to avoid punishment. These are all in the field of time, are they not? They are functions, they are the results, they are the activities of a mind which is the product of time. After all, the mind is the result of time - chronological time, centuries of cultivation of tradition, of education, of compulsion, of fear. So the mind is of time. Can the mind which is the result of time bring about a total revolution which is not of time? If we change within the field of time - which is, if I change because my society demands it, or because I see the necessity through any form of compulsion, or because I gain something, or because of fear, which are all surely the result of the calculation of a mind that is thinking in terms of time, today and tomorrow - there cannot be a total revolution; that is fairly obvious, is it not? When the mind thinks in terms of time, in relationship to change, is there change? Or is there merely a continuity, an adjustment to a particular pattern, and therefore no change at all? So, the problem is: Is there change, is there revolution which is out of time? And is that not the only revolution, which is not the product of the mind, of thought? After all, thought is the reaction of memory, memory being experience, knowledge, the storing up of innumerable reactions, of experiences; that is the mind - with that background the mind reacts and that reaction is thought. So thought is of time. So as long as I am changing in time - that is, according to any pattern, Communist, Socialist, Capitalist, Catholic, Hindu, Buddhist or what you will - it is still within the field of time. When change is according to a pattern, however expansive that pattern may be, it is still within time and therefore there is really no change, no revolution. Please listen to this, and understand. Do not reject it, do not say `It is all nonsense, it does not lead us anywhere', but just listen to it though you may not be used to the idea. Perhaps it is the first time you are hearing this. Do not reject it; because, if you will really go into it, you will see the extraordinary thing in it. Change comes into being when there is no fear, when there is neither the experiencer nor the experience; it is only then that there is the revolution which is beyond time. But that cannot be as long as I am trying to change the "I", as long as I am trying to change "what is" into something else. I am the result of all the social and the spiritual compulsions, persuasions, and all the conditioning based on acquisitiveness; my thinking is based on that. To be free from that conditioning, from that acquisitiveness, I say to myself: `I must not be acquisitive; I must practise non-acquisitiveness.' But such action is still within the field of time, it is still the activity of the mind. Just see that. Don't say "How am I to get to that state when I am non-acquisitive?" That is not important. It is not important to be non-acquisitive. What is important is to understand that the mind which is trying to get away from one state to another is still functioning within the field of time, and therefore there is no revolution, there is no change. If you can really understand this, then the seed of that radical revolution has already been planted and that will operate; you have not a thing to do. There is difficulty in the way of that seed of real timeless revolution operating because we are not listening, because we are opposing, because we are only concerned with immediate results. We see we need to change, but immediately we want to know how to change, what is the method; that is all what we are concerned with. The method implies continuity of the activity of the mind, and it can only produce an action which is still according to a pattern and therefore of time and producing suffering. Can there be an action which is not of time, which is not of the mind, which is not conditioned by thought which is merely the experience of knowledge? These are all of time. Therefore such activity can never produce a revolution, a total revolution in the human development of ourselves. So the problem is: Is there a revolution, is there a change which is not in the field of time? Can there be a change without the mind interfering? I see the importance of change. Everything changes, every relationship changes, every day is a new day. If I can understand the new day, if I am dead to the old yesterday completely, to all the things I have learnt, acquired, experienced, understood, then there is a revolution in that which is coming, there is change. But dying to yesterday is not an activity of the mind. Mind cannot die by a determination, by evolution, by an act of will. If the mind sees the truth of the statement, that, through an action of will or by a determined conclusion or through a compulsion, the mind cannot bring about a change, and that what is then brought about is only a continuity, only a modified result, but not a radical revolution, and if the mind is silent only for a few seconds to hear the truth of that statement, then you will find an extraordinary thing happening in spite of yourself, in spite of the mind; then, there is transformation inwardly without the interference of the mind, the mind being that thought which is conditioned. That is an extraordinary state of the mind when there is no experiencer, no experience. From that, there is a total revolution. That total revolution is the only thing that will bring peace in the world. All national adjustments, all economic reformations of one group dominating another and liquidating all other groups, will fail; they all will bring greater miseries, wars. What will bring peace, understanding, love in the world, is not reason - reason being based on a conditioned reaction - but only the mind which understands itself totally and is capable of being in that state which is everlastingly, timelessly new. That is not an impossibility, it is nothing idealistic or dreamy or mystic. If you can pursue the thing truly, you will find that it is there, you can experience it directly; but that requires a great deal of meditation and hard research and understanding. So, what is important is the understanding of the mind, and not how to bring about the change in oneself and so a change in the world. The very process of understanding the problem of change brings about a change in spite of yourself. That is why it is very important to listen to these talks, not to be persuaded by what I say out simply to listen to the truth of what is being said. It is the truth that brings revolution, not the cunning mind, not the calculating mind. Because, truth is not of time, not of India, Europe, Russia, or America; it does not belong to any group, to any religion, to any Guru, to any follower. If there is a guru, if there is a follower, if there is a nationality, truth will not be there. Truth comes into being only when the mind has understood and is still, when only that reality can come into being. There are several questions. I think, before I answer them, it is important to find out whether you are listening with a view to getting an answer, or whether you are listening entirely to the problem. These are two different states. It is easy to ask questions like a schoolboy who pops up a question hoping, waiting, listening for an answer, and thinking that the answer is going to solve all his problems, and that all that he has to do is just to follow the answer or to refute the answer and discuss like a cunning debating student. It remains at that level only when we are looking for an answer, listening for an answer. But when we are concerned with the problem and not with the answer, then the whole attitude is entirely different. The one comes from an immature schoolboy, it is the result of thoughtless education. The other requires mature enquiry. So it depends upon you how you are listening, whether with an attitude of trying to find an answer, and if there is no answer, being disappointed and saying `He never answers questions'. I do not intend to give an answer because life has no answer, `yes' or `no'. Life is much too immense, much too vast; everything goes into it like into the Sea. It is like a big river that flows all the way into the Sea, carrying with it the good, the bad, the evil, the beautiful, the ugly. The whole of that is the Ocean, not just the superficial activities, the ripples. To enquire into a problem with no resistance, with no barriers, with no prejudices is very difficult. We have to enquire into the problem to really understand the deeper issues of the problem. So there are only problems and no answers. I think that if we can really understand, if we can really feel it out that life is a problem that it is not a thing to be concluded, that it is not a refuge where you are everlastingly safe, then our whole attitude, activities, thoughts will be entirely different. Then, we shall receive everything and at the same time be as nothing. Question: In India today one meets absence of beauty and destruction of form on all fronts - political, social, psychological and cultural. How do you account for this, and in what manner can this total social disintegration be met? Krishnamurti: Why is there disintegration, not only in this unfortunate, overcrowded, miserable, starving land, but also all over the world? Why is there such disintegration? Don't find an answer, wait. Don't give immediate reasons, because your reasons will be according to your background, according to your conditioning - Communist, Hindu Capitalist, Christian or what you will. Please listen. When you are asked a question: `Why is there disintegration?', your response is according to your background, according to your knowledge, according to your experience, is it not? That very reaction is the cause of disintegration. We will go step by step into it, and you will see the truth of it. Why is there disintegration? Why does the mind become small, petty? Why are we only concerned with our little selves? Why do we identify ourselves with a bigger self - which is still petty? Because I am petty, I identify myself with something which is greater; but my mind is still petty. I may identify myself with God, Truth, or Nation; but my mind is still petty. However much the mind may identify itself with something greater, the very identifying process is still petty. Sirs, why are we caught in this pettiness, in this deterioration? Are you aware that your mind is deteriorating? Or do you say `My mind is not deteriorating it is functioning beautifully without any effort like a perfect machine, without any resistance, without any fear, without thinking of tomorrow'? Obviously, only very very few of us can say that. If you can understand why the mind deteriorates, then you can understand why culture, social values, the various forms of expressive beauty are all disintegrating. Why is the mind deteriorating? That is the problem, not `Why is there disintegration in India on all fronts'? Why is your mind disintegrating? If one or two of us can really understand this, one or two of us can change the world. Because most of us are not interested in this, we are not able to bring about a complete revolution. So it is only the few that can really understand that will bring about a tremendous revolution in the world. Why is your mind deteriorating? You say that, culturally, we are disintegrating. What is culture? Is it merely an expression, the imitation of a form conceived by the human mind? At present, in India, the mind is completely held, tethered, bound, by so-called culture, by tradition, by fear, by a lack of joy, by the fear of not having a future, by lack of security, or by the lack of a job. Is that the reason why the mind, being so completely conditioned, so completely held, has no initiative, no creative impulse? Is it because the mind is imitative, conforming, copying, that it is disintegrating and therefore not intensely active, creative? How can a mind be creative when there is fear? So is that not the problem: Is it possible for the mind, your mind, the average mind, the mind that is troubled, the mind that is caught in family ties, caught in joy, in the routine of an office with an ugly boss, the mind that is caught in tradition, in richness, can such a mind be creative? If the mind can free itself from its conditioning, it is obviously creative. If the mind sees the truth that every form of imitation is destructive to itself, then obviously it will put all imitation aside. But we do not see the truth of that. Therefore the slow process of disintegration goes on and on and on. Can a mind be free from fear? That is the central issue because fear is disintegration. When you frighten a boy, he complies; but in the very imitation, in the very compulsion, you are destroying the mind. Can the mind be free from fear? Fear is not in just one particular form - the fear of being punished, the fear of losing a job, of being a loser. But the mind has fear in all its relationship. Can the mind be free from fear, wherever it be, in the office or in the family, wherever it functions? Don't say `No'. If I know I am afraid in my relationships in various directions, the very knowledge, the very awareness that there is fear, will bring about a transformation. But that transformation is not possible if you want to change that fear into something else, say love; because, then love is another form of fear. Please see this, Sirs. If I am aware that I am frightened of you and if I have no wish to change that fear into something else, if I just know that I am afraid of you and I remain in that state, then fear begins to transform itself into something totally different from that which the mind wants. Sirs, let us put the problem in another way. The problem exists because of resistance, and if there is no resistance there is no problem. But to understand resistance requires astounding insight, not mere determination, not an action of will which says `I am not going to have any resistance'. The very statement `I am not going to have any resistance' is another form of resistance. But if you understand the depth, the quality, the various forms of resistance within the mind - which are extraordinarily difficult to uncover -then you will find that the problem of fear does not come into being. Therefore the mind is dying every day, it is not accumulating. And this dying to the day, means dying to knowledge, dying to experience, dying to all the things that one has accumulated, one has valued, cherished. Then only is there a possibility of a new mind, of a creative mind coming into being. As long as you are a Hindu, a Communist, Buddhist or what you will, you cannot have a new mind. As long as your mind is caught in fear and therefore is doing a particular routine or ritual, it is not a new mind. As long as you are doing your Puja, your various forms of compulsion, which are the projections of fear, the mind cannot be a new mind. By just listening to this and saying `I must have a new mind', you cannot have a new mind. A new mind cannot come into being by desire, by compulsion. It comes only by itself when the mind has understood the whole capacity, activities, the depth of itself. It is important to understand the truth of change. Mind cannot put away fear, because mind itself is fear, and that is all you know of the mind - fear of what people will say, fear of death, fear of losing, fear of being punished, fear of not gaining, fear of not fulfilling. So the mind, as your mind is now, is itself fear. And when such a mind wishes to change, it is still within the field of fear; that is an obvious psychological fact. So the mind invents a superior Self, the Atman that is going to alter; but it is still within the field of fear, because it is the invention of the mind. It does not matter what Buddha, Sankara, or anyone else has said. It is still within the field of thought and when the mind wishes to change within the field of thought, within the field of time, it is not change, it is still a form of the continuance of fear. A man who is pursuing an ideal can never know a new mind, and that is the curse on this land. We are all idealists wanting to conform to nonviolence, to this, or to that. We are all imitators. That is why we have never a fresh mind, a mind which is completely, totally new, which is yours, not Sankara's, not of Marx, not of somebody else. That total newness, that complete state of mind, can only come into being when there is no experiencer and no experience; that state is there only when you can die totally to each day, to everything that you have gathered psychologically. Then only is there a possibility of a complete regeneration. That is not an impossibility, that is not a rhetoric statement. It is possible if you think it out, go into it deeply; that is why it is important to know, to listen to what is truth. But you cannot listen to what is truth when your mind is not silent. If your mind is continually asking, demanding, begging, wanting this or that, putting this away and gathering that, such a mind is not a quiet mind. Just be quiet, be still. Look at the trees, the birds, the sky, the beauty, the rich qualities of human existence. Just watch silently and be aware. Into that silence comes that something which is not measurable, which is not of time. February, 7, 1954. BOMBAY 2ND PUBLIC TALK 10TH FEBRUARY 1954 As we were saying last Sunday, the right kind of revolution, a radical transformation can only take place not at the physical level but fundamentally at the level of the spirit, and I would like this evening to go into that matter still further. The true revolution is the religious revolution, not the merely economic or social. A fundamental revolution can only take place, when man is truly religious; for, every other kind of revolution or change is merely a continuity in a modified form of what has been. I say it is very important to understand what I mean by religious revolution. Unless there is a transformation at the fundamental level of our thinking, of our being, any superficial changes, persuasions, compulsions, or adjustments to environment are no transformation at all. Such transformation can only lead to greater mischief, to greater sorrow. So the revolution must be at the level which we call religious, and I would like to discuss that. Before I go into that, it seems to me it is very important to know how to listen, because we do not listen. We hear the words, we know their general meaning and we are merely satisfied with the meaning of those words. But listening is quite a different thing. I think if we know how to listen, that very listening will produce that fundamental revolution. Listening is not an effort because effort implies continuity of purpose, a continuity of memory in a particular direction; and memory is directive, it is not creative. Listening, if we know how to listen, is really creative because, in that, there is no memory involved at all. But most of us listen with an attitude of resistance. If I say something you do not like, or if I say something which you like, you immediately judge, you reject what you do not like and accept what you like; but that is not listening. Listening is a process in which the mind is really quiet, not interpreting what it is hearing, not translating, but actually following without any kind of effort because effort destroys. If you knew how to listen, then the full significance of what is being said, the truth of it or the falselessness of it, will come into being; but if you oppose one suggestion by another suggestion, one idea by another idea, you will never find the truth or the falselessness of a statement, I think it is very important to understand what I am saying now - which is, to find out the truth of what is being said, the truth or the falsehood of what is being said. You must listen and not merely oppose it by an opinion or by a memory or an experience which you had. What we are trying to do in these talks is not to convince you of anything, not to persuade you to a particular activity or action; because, that is merely propaganda and that has no value at all. What we are trying to do, you and I together, is to bring about that radical revolution not at any particular level of our existence but in the process of total development of man. And so it is very important, it seems to me, to know how to listen. I am not suggesting any particular course of action, I am not offering any particular pattern or thought or philosophy. Revolution according to a pattern is not revolution. To know what you are changed into, is not change at all; but to change fundamentally into something which is not known, the `unknown', is revolution. And I want to discuss that, if I can, this evening, fairly simply. It is a very complex problem; but I think if we can quietly follow without any opposition or resistance in ourselves to what is being said, in order to find out the truth or falsehood of what is being said, then the truth or the falsehood will produce its own action. For most of us, religion is dogma, belief, whether it is the Communist, the Christian or the Hindu religion. The dogma, the tradition, the rituals, the hopes, everlasting struggle to become something, the ideal - the ideal man, the ideal love, the ideal state -and the pursuit of that ideal is what we call religion. But surely that is not religion. Religion is not conformity, religion is not the pursuit of continual thought. Religion is something totally different. That is why it is very important to understand that word not according to you or to me, but to understand the meaning of that word, the significance and full implication in its totality. Mind can create any form of illusion, and that illusion can be the ideal, the God; and the worshipping of that illusion is not religion. The illusion, the projection of the mind that most of us worship, in any form at any level, is born out of hope, out of desire, out of longing; and that desire can create an image; and the imitation, the pursuit, the becoming of that, ideal is still within the continuity of the mind. The mind cannot produce revolution, the radical change. What can produce the radical revolution, the total revolution in man's thinking is the cessation of the continuity of the mind as thought. Please listen. Don't compare what I am saying to what you have learnt or what you have read either from a sacred book or from any other book. Don't compare. If you compare, then you are not listening to what is being said. What is important is to listen to what is being said. When you compare you never find the truth or the falseness of what is said because your mind then is occupied with comparison and not with the understanding of "what is". So the inventions of the mind whether purely physical, scientific or abstract, the inventions of its own projections, its own ideas which it calls God, Truth, Love, the imitation of them, the pursuit of them, are all the continuance of the mind. We know what envy is, and we have an idea that, to be really religious is to be in a state of `non-envy'. Obviously, an envious man is not a religious man, any more than the ambitious man either on the physical level or the psychological level. Now, hearing that envy is not religious, and finding that envy is a series of struggles, pains, and that it brings about suffering, the mind says `I must not be envious'. This is the `becoming' which is the continuity of the state of being envious, as we call it. The ideal, the pursuit of the ideal which we call `to become non-envious' are all still `envy'. We are now talking of the cessation of `becoming', in which alone there can be that revolution which is the real religious revolution. I think it is important to understand this. Our whole education, culture, influence and conditioning is a `becoming'. That is an obvious fact, is it not? I am poor, I want to become rich. I am envious or violent or angry, I must become peaceful, I must become non-ambitious - that is, I must, become something. So our whole social, economic, religious conditioning and culture is to become, is the process of becoming. That is a fact, is it not? Watch the operation of your own minds, and you will see it is an obvious fact. The becoming is the continuity of `the me', of the idea, a constant process; and that process can never produce a revolution. A revolution, a change, a radical transformation takes place when the `becoming' has ended - that is, not when I become non-envious but when there is no envy. Let us take the ideal of Non-violence. You say `I will become nonviolent'. You say that you will practise the ideal of nonviolence. That is, you are going to become nonviolent. You are violent; but through a process of thought, of practice, of discipline you are going to become non-violent. The continuity from violence to non-violence is not a revolution; it is merely a process of becoming, and so there is no radical transformation at all. The mind that is constantly becoming, pursuing being persuaded being conditioned, can never become non-violent; in that mind, there can never be a fundamental revolution. It is only when the mind sees that this is the process of becoming in time, and that the cessation of becoming is the being, there can be `being', in that being alone, there can be a radical revolution. Now, if you will listen, you will see that as long as the mind -which is the centre of all becoming because the mind is the result of time, and time is continual - is pursuing an ideal and becoming something, there can be no change. There can be re- volution, a radical revolution, a total revolution in the development of man, only when the becoming comes to an end - not when the mind becomes a perfect mind; the mind can never become a perfect mind, the mind, can never be free, not becoming, because freedom implies the cessation of the continuity of what has been. So when you really see the truth of that, there is the silence of the mind, not that the mind becomes a silent mind; silence can never be achieved, mind can never become silent. But when the mind sees that becoming is the process of struggle, is the process of effort, and that effort can never produce peace because what has been will be in continuity, in time, there is no becoming. Only with the ending of becoming is there silence of the mind. Please follow this. When there is silence, in that silence there is no becoming. You cannot become silent. If you make an effort to become silent, it is merely the continuity of an activity, which you call silence now but which you called pain previously. So the understanding of becoming is the beginning of silence, and that silence is the state of being, the total understanding of man's process; and that being is the revolution, the total transformation of one's being; and then only is there a possibility of that which is timeless to come into being. Only such people are really revolutionary because they are not thinking in terms of economic, social or temporary adjustments. I think it is very important to understand this, because most of us, specially in this country, are cursed with the pursuit of the ideal. We all want to become the ideal person, the perfect being; and so we practise discipline, the everlasting struggle to become something, and so we never `are' at any moment. We always are becoming, we never `are', the moment is never full, it is always tomorrow that is full; and so we miss the full movement of life. If you observe your own mind, you will see that we never are still for a minute, but we are always trying to be still. The trying is what we know, the becoming is what we know. We know the ideal of silence, our mind is constantly pursuing that ideal, struggling, disciplining, controlling, shaping in order to have that silence in which the real can take place; and the real can never take place in that silence because that silence is a becoming. It is only when the mind understands the total process of becoming, of pursuing, of trying to shape itself into something else that there can be the cessation of becoming, when alone there can be revolution. Only then is the mind truly religious. The religious man is not the man who becomes a Sannyasi, not the man who becomes, who pursues virtues, or who tries to become an ideal man. The religious man is the man who has stopped becoming; therefore to him there is only one day, there is only one moment -not the moment of yesterday or of tomorrow. Such a man is the real revolutionary; for, he is of reality. It is important not merely to listen to what is being said, but to go away from here as a human being that is totally transformed -not with new ideas, not with a new outlook, not with new values, not with the putting away of tradition. Those are all childish things. They are all activities of immaturity. What is important is for the mind to have no space in it except for the state of being. Our minds are continuously being shaped by ourselves, by circumstances. We are pushed about, conditioned as the Hindu, as the Catholic, as the Christian, or as the Communist. So long as we are in that state, we cannot produce a new world. It is only the man who has no other religion than the religion of `being' - the state of being has no space, it has no corners in which the mind can become something - that will produce a new world. You and I will have to produce a new world - not the new world according to the Communists or the Catholics or the Capitalists - a new world that is totally different, that is a free world, that is free in being and not in becoming. The man who `becomes, is never free', he is always struggling, striving to become; and such a man is never a free man. Please follow this. Please listen to this. You will see that if you really listen, there is freedom from becoming. It is only when there is freedom from becoming that a man is really happy; he is the happy man, happy in that fundamental spirit that creates the new world. As I was saying, the importance in asking a question is not to find the answer but to understand the problem because there is only the problem and not the answer. To ask a question is easy; but to go into the problem is extremely difficult because once you know what the problem is, the very seeing of the problem is the understanding of the problem. The moment I can state the problem very clearly, simply, the answer is there, I do not have to look beyond. But most of us do not know what the problem is. We are confused about the problem and so naturally we look, in our confusion, for answers; and that will only produce further confusion. Please understand once and for all that there are no answers to life. Life is a living thing, not an ending thing, life is the problem. If I can understand the whole total process of the problem, then it is a living thing, not a thing from which to run away, to escape from, to be frightened about. So what is important is not the answer, but to state the problem clearly and simply and to see the full implications of the problem; then, the mind becomes acutely sharp. But when a mind is seeking an answer, it is a dull mind, a stupid mind. If the mind sees the whole problem, the subtlety, the implications, the significance, the variations of the problem, the extension of the problem, the mind itself becomes the problem. The mind that is the problem itself, does not seek an answer. When the mind is the problem, the mind itself becomes quiet; and the moment the mind is quiet, there is no problem. So what is important is not to enquire for an answer, but to take the journey into the problem. Question: In India today, man faces a growing totalitarianism. Political leaders cloak their authority in smugness, virtue and good intentions. On the one hand, there is this growing authority; on the other hand, there is a creeping servility, corruption and disintegration. How is man to meet this debacle except by fighting authority on all fronts. What is your way of meeting this totalitarian challenge? Krishnamurti: Is there my way and your way? Or is there only the truth that will meet the challenge? You understand, Sirs? There is not your way and my way of meeting the challenge; such a way is an ugly thing. There is only the right way of meeting it. The moment you talk of your way and my way, you are not stating the problem at all; You are only creating another authority which is myself. You see the question? If you can put it entirely differently, the problem is: `Why do we follow'? That is the problem, not the politician using authority or the religious man using authority; they cover their authority, cloak it, under sweet sounding words. People will always do that for their own interests, they will cloak their ambition by calling it the `love of India', the `love of peace', the `love of God', being ambitious, they will use patriotism or the name of peace to serve their own interests. There will be always people of that nature, but that is not the problem. The problem is: Why do you follow? You understand, Sirs? Why do you follow - not a particular leader, a particular guru, a particular idea, a particular experience or a particular ideal - but why do you follow at all? If we can understand that problem, this problem will be answered immediately. It is no problem at all. We are not discussing whether you should follow or not follow, we are not seeing whether it is good to follow or bad to follow. Whether it is immoral to follow, that is not the problem for the moment. The problem is: Why do I follow? Why do you follow? You may reject outward authority, you may have no outward guru, the example; but you have your own ideal, you have your own experience, or your own accumulated knowledge which you follow. I am questioning the whole total process of following, not the substitution of one authority for another, or of one guru for another - those are all childish activities. But if we can enquire into the question, into the problem `Why do we follow?', then perhaps we shall understand the problem of authority. When you are asked why you follow, you do not know the reason why you follow. The reason is fairly obvious. You follow for some satisfaction, for some motive, for some gain, for an end in view. But this whole instinctual response to follow somebody, to follow an ideal, to follow an experience which you have ad ten years ago and which you want how and therefore follow and strive after in order to get that richness - this total process of following is the problem. The moment you follow, you have a guru, you create the authority. But if there is cessation of following there is no authority, there is no guru; then you are a light to yourself. Please put yourself this question: `Why do I follow?' You are unaware that you are following, and that is of real importance. You are totally unaware - not only superficially but at the deeper layers of your consciousness - that you follow. But if you say `I follow because of this motive, because of this desire, with this end in view, because I am frightened, because I am this and I am that', then you are not finding out why you follow; you are only giving reasons, logical conclusions. But do you know you are aware that in following a political leader, a guru, or a book - sacred or profane, the Gita, the Upanishads, the Bible or Marx's - you are only following words? Our whole process of life deeply as well as superficially, is one of following. Following is imitation; we all know that. How can such a mind which only knows and functions in the field of following, imitation, creating authority, face and understand and break down authority? Following is destructive, following destroys. Can you see the truth or falseness of that, the truth or the falseness of the statement that following of any kind at any level is totally destructive, is disintegrating? Either you see the truth of it and accept it or you reject it. But you cannot reject or accept it if you don't know that you are following. If you are not following somebody, then either you are following your own desire, or you externalize those desires and follow the politician or the guru or the book. So, as long as there is the following of your own motives, your own desires, you must have authority. And following is destructive, is a disintegrating process - we know so well in India where we have nothing else but leaders and followers. Don't you follow? You are not a free people. You may have a new government, a brown bureaucracy; but you are not a free people because freedom implies `not following'. Sir, when you really think about and understand all this, in that only there is freedom, there is total revolution; then only can a new world be created. But if you follow you are destroying yourself. When you follow your guru, you are destroying both yourself and the guru. Please listen to this, find out the truth of it. Don't say I disagree or agree - which is an immature way of thinking. If you do not know that you are following, then you have no authority to give an opinion. If you do not know why you follow, if you do not know the whole process of it, then you cannot decide whether to follow or not to follow. But if you understand the idea of following, then you will not create the duality of not following, then there will be no struggle to follow or not to follow. Our mind which is so accustomed to follow, to imitate, can only react by not following, by not imitating. So it sets up the problem of duality: `I have followed so far; now I must not follow.' But that is not the answer. When you say `I must not follow', that itself produces its own authority. Then you become the authority or the person who says you must not follow. But if you understand the significance, the total meaning - of which most of us are totally unaware - then there is the cessation of following. Then there is creativity, and that is what is needed - not the putting away of one authority and taking up of another authority, more pleasant or less pleasant. But you have to see that all following is destructive, is a process of disintegration, you have to be aware of it choicelessly, so that there is no duality. Awareness is a process in which there is no duality. Awareness is a state in which there is no choice, but there is seeing "what is" and not trying to change "what is" into something else. Only in such awareness is there a possibility of freedom, and only in that freedom can there be creativity. Questioner: I have heard you every time you speak in Bombay. When I hear you, I feel great clarity and understanding; when you go, I get caught back into the innumerable habits of action and thought. Is it not necessary for me once for all either to understand you or to give up hearing you? Krishnamurti: Sir what is important is to know how to listen, not only to me but to everything in life - to the song of birds, to the roar of the restless sea, to the voice of a bird, to everything about you. Because we do not know how to listen, we keep on hearing, and hearing dulls the mind. If you keep on coming to these talks year after year and merely hear but not listen, then your mind becomes dull. Your coming here becomes another ritual; a yearly performance. That is what has happened to most of us. We have become dull through repetition of ideas, hearing the same thing over and over and over again, performing the same stupid vain ritual, pursuing the same ideals, or substituting other ideals. This constant struggle within and without, primarily within, this battle `to become', is making us dull. But if you know how to listen to one talk, really, how to listen to one idea, then you will see your mind becoming astonishingly alert, sharp, clear, subtle. Then you can listen to the talks over and over again, and you will see that each talk has meaning in it afresh every time, that it has significance, that there is a richness - all of which you would miss when you merely hear. Sir, you do not know how to see the beauty of a tree or of a person. Though you pass by, every day, the beauty is there. You never look at the stars, the skies. You never hear the child's cry. You never listen to those things, your mind is too occupied - God knows with what - with its own anxieties, with its own becoming's, with its own fears. Through this screen of fear, anxiety, hope, frustration, you hear and decide what it is that I am saying. There is nothing, literally nothing at all, which you cannot understand. I am not putting through new ideas, I am not giving directions for you to follow because that would create merely another authority. You must forsake all authority to listen properly. If you listen after forsaking all authority, all following, then the truth or the falseness thereof comes into being. But a mind which is occupied, can never listen. Most of our minds are occupied with love, with hate, with anxieties, with envy, with trying to be good. An occupied mind is a petty mind. If you listen, your mind becomes a fresh mind, a clear mind, an unspotted mind; such a mind cannot be bought, nor can it come into being through any authority, through any following. So one must understand what one hears, and find out the truth of the matter by observing one's own mind. Truth is not something away from the mind. It is away now because the mind is so confused. A man who seeks answers, seeks truth out of confusion, and so his answer of truth will also be confused. Questioner: In moments of great anguish and despair, I surrender without effort to "Him", without knowing "Him". That dispels my despair; otherwise, I would be destroyed. What is this surrender and is this a wrong process? Krishnamurti: A mind that deliberately surrenders itself to something unknown, is adopting a wrong process, like a man who deliberately cultivates love, humility when he has no love, no humility. When I am violent, if I am trying to become nonviolent, I am still violent. If I am practising humility, is it humility? It is only respectability, it is not humility. You see the truth of this, Sirs? Don't smile and say how clever the statement is. It is not clever. A man who is deliberately persuading himself into being good, who is surrendering himself to something which he calls God, or to Him, does so deliberately, voluntarily, through an action of will. Such a surrender is not surrender; it is self-forgetfulness, it is a replacement, a substitute, an escape; it is like mesmerizing oneself, like taking a drug or like repeating words without meaning. I think there is a surrender which is not deliberate, which is totally unasked, un-demanded. When the mind demands something, it is not surrender. When the mind demands peace, when it says `I love God and I pursue the love of God', it is not love. All the deliberate activities of the mind is the continuance of the mind, and that which has continuity is in time. It is only in the cessation of time that there can be the being of reality. The mind cannot surrender. All that the mind can do is to be still; but that stillness cannot come into being if there is despair or if there is hope. If you understand the process of despair, if the mind sees the whole significance of despair, you will see the truth of it. There is bound to be despair when you want something and when you cannot get when you want, - it may be a car, it may be a woman, it may be God; they are all of the same quality. The moment you want something, the very wanting is the beginning of despair. Despair means frustration. You would be satisfied if you get what you want, and because you cannot get what you want, you say `I must surrender to God'. If you got what you wanted you would be perfectly satisfied; only that satisfaction comes to an end soon and you seek another thing. So you change the object of your satisfaction constantly; this brings with it its own reward, its own pains, its own sufferings, its own pleasure. If you understand that desire of any kind brings with it frustration, despair and so the dual conflict of hope, if you really see the fact of that, if without saying `How am I to be in that state?' you just see that desire makes for pain, then the very seeing of it is the silencing of desire. Being aware choicelessly, purely, simply that the mind is noisy, that the mind is in constant movement, in constant struggle, that very awareness brings about the ending of that noise choicelessly. Awareness is the important thing, not the dispelling of despair, not the silence. Pure intelligence is that state of mind in which there is awareness, in which there is no choice, in which the mind is silent. In that state of silence, there is `being' only; then that reality, that astounding creativity without time, comes into being. February 10, 1954 BOMBAY 3RD PUBLIC TALK 14TH FEBRUARY 1954 I would like to continue with what we were talking about last wednesday, namely, the problem of change. It is quite an important issue which deserves to be really deeply considered; for, change seems to produce more confusion, more travail and more sorrow, as can be observed by us from day to day. I would like to discuss this evening, whether it is possible to change, to bring about a radical breaking up of the centre, rather than merely indulging in peripheral or superficial changes. Is it possible to change at the centre, without the action of will, without cultivating a background, and without strengthening the background in the process of change. Is change, a breaking up, a revolution, a complete transformation, possible without the cultivation of memory? Generally, in the process of changing, we are always breeding memory: `I was this yesterday, and I shall be that tomorrow'. This `I shall be' is the cultivation of memory; and therefore there is no fundamental, radical change at the centre. I hope you will have the patience to listen to this. Communication is anyhow very difficult because words have definite meaning; consciously, we accept certain definitions and try to translate what we hear according to those definitions. But if we begin to define every word or merely define certain words as a reference and leave it at that, communication will be at the conscious level. It seems to me that what we are discussing is not merely to be understood at the conscious level, but also to be absolved - if I may use that word - unconsciously, deep down, without the formulations of any definition. It is far more important to listen with the depth of one's whole being, than merely indulge in superficial explanations. If we can listen with totality of being, that very listening is an act of meditation. The meditation that we do consciously is no meditation at all; it is merely the projection of the con- scious mind, memory. You have to listen with the totality of your being without any effort, without any struggle, and with the intention to understand, to explore, to discover, really to find out the truth or falseness of what I am saying. To discover is to be in a state of mind in which the struggle, the constant conflict to find out, to discover, must cease. It seems to me that such an act of living is meditation. To find out the truth of something, not according to what you wish, what you like or dislike, or according to the particular tradition in which you have been brought up, the mind must be capable of not only understanding the superficial sound that it hears, the vibrations of sound, but also entering much deeper through that sound. It is a very difficult problem to listen with the totality of one's whole being - that is, when the mind not only hears the words, but is capable of going beyond the words. The mere judgment of a conscious mind is not the discovery or the understanding of truth. The conscious mind can never find that which is real. All that it can do is to choose, judge, weigh, compare. Comparison, judgment, or identification is not the uncovering of truth. That is why it is very important to know how to listen. When you read a book, you might translate what you read according to your particular tendency, according to your knowledge or idiosyncrasy, and so miss the whole content of what the author wants to convey; you might also listen similarly. But to understand, to discover, you have to listen without the resistance of the conscious mind which wants to debate, discuss, analyse. Debating, discussing, analysing is a hindrance when we are dealing with matters which require not mere verbal definition and superficial understanding, but understanding at a much deeper, more fundamental level. Such understanding, the understanding of truth, depends upon how one listens. What we are concerned with is the necessity of change. We see that a fundamental revolution is necessary. I am using that word revolution not in the political sense. In the political sense, if there is revolution, it is no longer a `revolution', it is merely a modified continuity. But I am talking of fundamental transformation which alone can be called change. Is it possible to bring about such a radical change by the action of will - which is what we are used to? Will is the continuity of a decision based on memory, on knowledge, or experience; will is the reaction of a conditioned mind, the mind that lives in tradition, in experience, in knowledge; and knowing decides, creates the pattern according to which it shall change. Therefore, can a change, through an action of will, be a radical change? When I know in what direction I am changing, and also the implications which are in the change based on my experience - my experience being the reaction of my conditioning -can such a change be radical? I wish to change because I see the importance and the necessity of change, not only in myself but in society; I see the imperative necessity of it, logically and inwardly, because society as it is and myself as I am only produce a further mess, further chaos, further misery; that is an obvious fact, whether you accept it or not. As we are conditioned, any action from the conditioned mind is only productive of further confusion; because, if I am confused, any action out of that confusion is still further confusion. We are confused, whether we like it or not; whether we admit it or not, it is a fact. Whether you call yourself a Communist, a Socialist, a Christian, a Hindu, or a Buddhist, your mind, if you observe, is in a state of contradiction, is in a state of confusion. When you have a certain belief, a certain dogma, you hold to that dogma, to that belief. It is obviously, psychologically, an indication of confusion, because that belief acts as a security away from yourself; that security is your projection, the projection born out of confusion. A mind that seeks to understand the fundamental necessity of change must ceaselessly ask itself: `Is it possible to change without the action of will?' You understand, Sir, the difficulty of the question? That is, my will is born out of my past, out of knowledge, out of the experiences that I have gathered. The gathering is the result of my conditioning. The conditioning is the culture in which I have been brought up, the religion, the social values and so on. Out of that background is born the will to be, to change, to continue. This is a psychological fact. When you observe the action of will, you will find that the will cannot bring about a radical change? If it cannot what else will bring about a radical transformation? What will break up the centre of this constant accumulation of memory, of experience, of knowledge, from which there is action? This is an important question to ask yourself and to find the truth of. It is not enough if you merely listen to what I say, because that is your problem. You have really to go into it. The will is the I, the process of `the me; as it cannot bring about a radical transformation, the mind projects the idea of God and says `God has the power to change', `There is the grace of God' and so on. That is, when the mind sees that it cannot bring about a radical change in itself through its own power, through its own action, through its own volition, the mind projects and identifies itself with something which will bring about the transformation. But that projection is still the action of will, the action of `the me' that wishes to change; and as it sees that it cannot change through its own activities, it identifies itself with an idea, or with a so-called reality which it has created relating to a Buddha, a Christ or anyone it likes, and hopes that, through that, there will be a transformation. But that projection, the activities of that projection, and the response of that projection are still part of the action of will; so there is no radical transformation at the centre. Surely the problem now is: `What can bring about the breaking up of that centre? Is it Grace, is it God, is it an idea?' Is it something totally different, which is not the projection or the activity of the mind? That change which is the breaking up of the centre, of the me, of the self, cannot be brought about by the action of the self, by will. The myself which changes is the result of pain, of pleasure, of experience, of memories; and when it says `I must change to something', that something is the projection of `myself', the projection being the Master, the Guru, the Saviour and so on. Through the Saviour, through the Guru, which is the projection of myself, I hope to bring about a change. If you deny all that and say that circumstances or the control of nature would be the only possibility of change, then your mind is controlled by the so-called education on the Communist lines, or the Catholic lines, or the Hindu lines. This process controls the mind, shapes the mind; and the shaping of the mind cannot bring about that radical transformation at the centre. Do you understand the problem? I want to change. I see the impossibility of change through action of will. I see that there can be no change through the projection of the past into the future, through the known projecting itself into the future as the unknown which is however the known. I see also how the mind can be shaped by circumstances. By the way I am brought up from childhood, my mind can be so completely conditioned that it functions like a machine, that it believes, or does not believe. I also see that this is not change. In order to bring about a completely new world, a new State, a new being, to understand that this world is not a Catholic or a Hindu world but it is `our' world - to feel that is to understand the richness of it - there must be radical transformation at the centre, in which there is no longer the me or mine - my India, my religion my experience. It is there that the radical change has to take place. How is that to take place? Now, please listen. Is that the right question: `How can it take place'? Is there a method, a system? A system, a method, implies the continuity of memory, cultivation of memory, and therefore no radical change at all. When I ask myself how can this centre be broken up and when I seek a method, the very method, the very system produces the result which the system gives. But that is not change; I am only following the system, cultivating the memory of that system, instead of the system, the method which I had cultivated in the past, now I cultivate a new method, a new system; so the very `how' is the denial of the radical change. Please, observe your own mind. When this problem of radical transformation is posed, the moment you hear it mentioned, your immediate response is `Tell me what to do'. The telling you of what to do is not change at all. You want to arrive at the stage of security or certainty through a method, and the very desire for certainty is no change. If you understand all this, you would not say at the end of the talk `You have not told us what to do, you are too vague?, There is only the problem and not the answer. If you know the depth of the problem, the answer is at the depth. The problem itself will reveal the answer; but as long as you are looking for the answer at the depth, you are dealing with the superficiality of the problem. There is the problem of change, of radical transformation of the centre. This change cannot be brought about through any volition, through an act of will, through practice, through a system of meditation. The very process of meditation, as you practise it, is the cultivating of a certain idea, a certain discipline, and so it only strengthens the self, the centre; and any form of projection from the background or the experience of that projection as reality is still the strengthening of the centre. When you have this problem, when you really are confronted with this problem, you will see that your mind becomes completely still. It is only when you are trying to change, to bring about a superficial change, that the mind becomes agitated, works, strives, struggles. But when you see the full significance of the fundamental revolution, transformation, then the mind, in front of this enormous complex problem is still. If you are listening rightly and if you have understood the problem profoundly, then you will see your mind is still. The problem itself makes the mind still. When the mind is still in front of this problem, then there is transformation at the centre. This whole process of understanding the problem is meditation. This meditation is not the sitting down and grappling with the problem, but understanding as you go for a walk, when you look at the stars, at the sea, and the shadows of a tree, when you see a smile. It is a total process; for, the problem involves the total understanding of man's development. Then only the mind is still, without any movement or projection of the mind, a wish, a hope. Silence is not a word, it is a state of being. A mind that is trying to become can never understand that state of being. You cannot become still, do what you will - practise, discipline, control, subjugate. All such action leads only to results. Silence is not a result, it is a state of being from moment to moment. So when the mind understands the problem of radical transformation, from moment to moment, then there is silence which is not the silence of accumulation, which is not the silence of memory, but a state of being; it is out of time, it is timeless. If there is such silence, you will see that there is a radical transformation of the centre. If you have listened rightly, you will find the seed of transformation has taken root. But if you are merely verbally resisting, then you will have only resistance and not truth. Unfortunately most of us are left with the ashes of resistance and not with reality. We are not educated from childhood to listen, to find out, to understand; we are never confronted with the problem, we are always given answers - what should be, the example, the hero, the saint, for you to copy, to imitate. So we are never shown the implications of the problem - such showing is real education. As we have not been educated in the subtleties of problems, in the understanding of problems, we become confused when we are thrown against a problem, and we want to find an answer. There is no answer to life. Life is a living thing from moment to moment, and a man who is seeking an answer to life is creating a little pool of mediocrity. So the question is not to find the answer, but to understand the problem; the problem holds the truth, and not the answer. Question: The awareness you speak of must mean the stripping away of the many facets of personality; in India, this search for self-knowledge has led inevitably to the destruction of personality, and the sapping away of all initiative and drive which are the driving forces of personality. That is why we see in India a refusal to fight social evil. Will not then your teachings only lead to further lethargy of the spirit? Krishnamurti: Are you individuals who have personalities? Will the understanding and the awakening of awareness with all its implications deprive you of that personality? Are you an individual, or are you a mass of conditions? When you are a Hindu, a Christian, a Buddhist, a Communist, are you an individual? When you belong to some society or group, are you an individual? And are you an individual, because you have a little property, a name, a few qualities and tendencies? Sir, what is individuality? It is something which must be totally unique. But we are not unique. When you call yourself a Hindu, a Mussalman, a Communist, you are just repeating, it is merely the tradition. You are conditioned by your society, by your culture; according to that conditioning you experience, and the experience is the memory, is knowledge; the knowledge does not constitute individuality, it is only the reaction of the condition. When you become aware of this total process of conditioning, experiencing, accumulating knowledge, and that it does not constitute individuality but is the destruction of all creative being. when you are aware of all this, then you will not be a Christian, a Buddhist, a Hindu, a Communist or what you will: you will be in a total state of revolt. But as long as you are accepting, as long as your mind is conditioned as a Hindu, a Catholic, a Communist, you are not an individual, you are only a cog in the machine. Look at your own mind and the operations of that mind. Are you an individual in the sense of creating a unique state of mind in which there is freedom, the freedom of being? How can you have individuality, personality, when culture, religion, throughout the world are based on imitation, copying? When you are pursuing the ideal, when you are Gandhites, or some other `ites', how can you be an individual? Are you aware of the total process of fear which makes you imitate, which makes you follow, which makes you accept the authority of an ideal, of a Guru, of a Saviour, of a priest? It is that fear that makes you comply, conform, imitate; it is that fear that destroys the real creative mind. It is that fear, that seeks a result, security, a state of being in which there is no fear; and therefore it projects. And you follow that projection as your Saviour, as your guide, as your ideal. So your fear is compelling you to conform. And as long as there is fear, you cannot possibly be an individual, you cannot have a creative mind. It is very important to understand fear, specially in a country that is overpopulated, that is deep in tradition - whether modern or scientific or ancient. As long as there is fear, there can be no creativity; and it is only the creative mind that is the real, that is unique. Awareness in which there is no choice, does not destroy that creative reality. Your mind from childhood is conditioned, it is educated from childhood in fear, it is subjugated, it is compelled, pursued, compared, various values are imprinted upon it; how can such a mind be a free mind? All that it knows is fear. Therefore it everlastingly struggles to do good and to avoid evil. The very doing good is to overcome fear; it is not freedom from fear, but the overcoming of fear; therefore there is still fear. How can such a mind be creative, be happy? The mind that is free from fear is the creative mind, such a mind, through awareness, through self-knowledge, cannot lose that reality. The mind can be free only through self-knowledge - not the self-knowledge of the specialist, not the self-knowledge of Ramanuja or Buddha or the Christ; such self-knowledge is not self-knowledge. To know yourself according to somebody, Marx or Buddha or what you will - that is not knowing yourself. You can physically know yourself only if you are aware of yourself, aware of your actions, thoughts, feelings, words. But you cannot be aware of the total process, see the fullness of that awareness, if you compare, if you choose, if you say `This is good', `That is bad'. So self-knowledge through awareness does not destroy, does not sap away initiative. You have no initiative. You just follow some powerful personality, somebody who, you think, is a leader. So long as you follow anybody, any authority, any book, you are not creative. You are following because of fear, and the understanding of fear is the beginning of creativity. It is very difficult to understand fear. I am not talking of the cultivation of the opposite. The mind which is cultivating the opposite is still caught in fear. The awareness of which I have been talking is a choiceless state in which you can see things as they are and not as you wish them to be, in which you can know exactly what you are, without any choice; and that awareness is intelligence. The man who is constantly choosing is not an intelligent man. A man is truly intelligent when there is no choice; for, choice is the outcome of his background, and a free mind is not a mind of choice. Choice will exist as long as there is fear, choice will exist as long as you have any kind of authority at different levels of your consciousness. Therefore, to follow another is destructive. But to be completely aware is to be the light yourself. Question: What is the true value of equality? Is equality a fact or an idea? Krishnamurti: To the idealist, it is an idea, to the man who observes, it is a fact. There is inequality: you are much cleverer than I am; you have greater capacities; you love and I don't; you paint, you create, you think, and I am merely an imitator; you have riches, and I have poverty of being. There is inequality existing; that is a fact, whether you like it or not. There is also inequality of function; but unfortunately we have brought inequality of function into the inequality of status. We do not treat function as function, but use function to achieve power, position, prestige - which becomes status. And we are more interested in status than in function; so we continue with inequality. There is not only the psychological inequality but also the obvious outward inequality. These are all facts. By no amount of legislation can one wipe out this inequality. But I think, if one can understand that there must be freedom psychologically from all authoritarian outlook, then equality has quite a different meaning. If one can wipe away the psychological inequality which one creates in oneself through status, through capacity, through ideas, through desire, through ambition, if there is a wiping away of that psychological struggle to be something, then there is a possibility of having love. But as long as I am striving, psychologically using function to become somebody, as long as there is a becoming of `the me', inequality of spirit will exist. Then there will always be a difference between me and the saviour, there will always be a gap between one who knows and the one who does not know; and there will also be the struggle to come to that state. So as long as there is no freedom, all this becoming will be used for the strengthening of the existing inequality, which is destructive. Sir, how can a man who is ambitious, know equality or know love? We are all ambitious and we think it is an honourable state. From childhood we are trained to be ambitious, to succeed, to become somebody; and so inwardly we want inequality. Look at the way we treat people, how we respect some and we despise others. It you look into yourself inwardly, you will find that this sense of inequality creates the Master, the Guru, and you become the disciple, the follower, the imitator, the becomer. Inwardly, you establish inequality and dependence on another; therefore there is no freedom. There is always this division between man and man, because each one of us wants to be a success, to be somebody. always this division between man and man, because each one of us wants to be a success, to be somebody. Only when you are inwardly as nothing because you are free, is there a possibility of your not using inequality for personal aggrandisement, and of bringing about order, peace. But to be as nothing is not a series of words; you have to be literally as nothing, inwardly; that can only be when the mind is not becoming. Question: How did you find God? Krishnamurti: How do you know, Sir, I have found God? Sirs, don't laugh. It is a serious question. Sir, is God to be known? Is God to be found? Please listen. Is God something which is lost and is to be found? Can you recognise that reality, that God? If you can recognise it, you have already experienced it; if you have already experienced it, it is not new. If you can experience God or Truth, your experience is born out of the past; therefore, it is no longer truth; it is merely a projection of memory. The mind is the outcome of the past, of knowledge, of experience, of time; the mind can create God; it can say `I know this is God', `I know I have experienced God', `I know the voice of God speaks to me'. But that is all memory, that is the past reaction of your conditioning. The mind can invent God and can experience God. The mind which is the result of the known, can project itself forward and create all the images, all the visions, which is still within the field of the known. God cannot be known. It is totally unknown. It cannot be experienced. If you experience it, it is no longer God, Truth. It is only when there is no experiencer, no experience, that reality can come into being. Only when the mind is in the state of the unknown, does the unknown come into being. Only when there is the wiping away of all experience, of all knowledge, is the mind truly still, and in that stillness which is immeasurable, that which has no name comes into being. February 14, 1954. BOMBAY 4TH PUBLIC TALK 17TH FEBRUARY 1954 We have been talking, the last three times we have met here, of the importance of a religious revolution. I mean by religion, not dogma, not belief, not rituals. Nor does revolution consist of substituting one belief for another; but it is a total revolution in our thinking and this revolution is really the freedom from the known. I would like, if I can this evening, to go into this question, because it seems to me that any activity from the known is not a change, not a radical transformation at all. It is merely a modified continuity of what has been known. Most of the political, economic, social revolutions or even the so-called scientific revolutions are always the continuity of the known. I would like if I can to commune with you. I am using that word `commune' expressly, for it seems to me that it is not a matter of mere mental exchange of ideas, of trying to persuade one to a particular point of view, of trying to lay out a blueprint for action. To commune with each other is really quite a different thing, because we must both be interested in the subject at the same time and at the same level. Communion is not possible if you are interested in something and I in something else, and we talk; then there is no communion; communion is only possible when both of us, you and I together, at the same time and at the same level, are interested not me to listen to the verbal expression but also to commune with each other at a deeper level of consciousness, over things that cannot merely be put into words. That means a great deal of insight, penetration. There is no communion possible if you are obstructing the significance by a series of screens, objections, ideals, or prejudices. There is communion only when we both of us love, together at the same time, at the same level; and that love is not possible if we remain at the verbal expression or at the argumentative level. We have to use words to communicate. I think it is possible, if we are interested, if we love the thing we talk about, to go beyond the verbal expression and to commune with each other over things that are of vital importance; then that communion is neither yours nor mine, it is understanding; it is the perception of that which is real, true, which is not personal, of the group, of the nation, neither Western nor Eastern. I think it is very important to know how to commune with each other, specially in matters that are of great significance and importance. There is no communion if we do not love the thing about which we are talking, if we do not give our whole mind and heart to the thing into which we are enquiring. Such love does not demand the effort of attention; it demands that state of easy, open loving, that attention which you pay when you are absorbed in something. We are now discussing a problem which, I think, is of great significance; so communion is essential. Such communion is not possible if each one obstructs the exchange, the discovery, with a series of objections, acceptances, denials, or resistances. I would like to go into this question of freedom from the known because religion is not the continuance of the known. The known is the belief, is the discipline, is the practice, is a particular form of meditation invented by another as a means of attainment of a particular state, is the practice which one has invented for oneself, or is the practice of a particular system with the experience which that system brings and the continuance of that system as memory. The continuance of memory is the known; and it is only in the freedom from the continuity of the known that there can be communion. It seems to me that religion has always been with most of us, the practice of the known - the known being the belief, the dogma, the hope, the fulfilment of an experience of a mind that has been brought up either in religion or in a state of denial of everything. The believer and the non-believer are both the continuance of memory, conditioned by the known. The difficulty for most of us is the freedom from the known. The continuity of an experience, of an idea, of a belief, makes for mediocrity; it makes the mind live in a state of certainty. When the mind is certain in knowledge or in experience or in belief, when it feels secure, when it has taken refuge in any experience, in any dogma or in any belief, such a mind is a mediocre mind, is a small mind. Because, through the desire to be secure, to be certain, it clings to every form of certainty invented by the mind; and such a mind can only function and live and move within the field of the known; and so the mind and the heart remain mediocre, small, petty. Our minds are conditioned by our beliefs, by our experiences, by our knowledge. With that mind, we try to find what is real, what is God, something beyond and above human invention and illusion. As long as there is the continuity of the known, there must be a mediocre mind, not a free mind. It is very important to understand this - not merely verbally or intellectually, because there is no such thing as intellectual understanding. But this requires a great deal of penetration and understanding of the operations of one,s own mind, because our whole structure of thinking is based on the known: `I have had an experience yesterday and that experience is shaping me, is shaping my thought, my conduct and my outlook.' The experience may be not of yesterday but of a thousand years ago, which we call knowledge. So knowledge is a confusing factor in the search for Reality. For most of us, there is confusion; we are confused, not in what we do not know but with the knowledge of the things we know: it is the knowledge that creates confusion. Is it not fairly obvious that most of us are confused? In spite of all that they may assert, are not most of the political leaders, religious leaders con- fused? Is there not confusion on the part of the follower of any leader, political or religious? Both the leader and the follower are confused. This confusion is due to choice, because our knowledge is memory, and we shape our life and action according to that. But we are not willing to admit we are confused. Life is a thing which is living constantly moving; we recreate according to our memory and are not capable of adjusting to the immediate demands of life. So we approach Reality which is living, which is a very complex process, with a mind that is already burdened with knowledge, with experience, with ideas. A mind is not free, which is always meeting life with memory. It seems to me that religious revolution is the freeing of action from memory. Because, after all, `the me', the Ego, the Self is the accumulation of various experiences, of knowledge, of memory; `the me', is nothing but background, the me is of time; the self, the Ego, is the result of various forms of accumulated knowledge, information; it is that bundle which we call "I". The I is the many layers of memory; though the I may be unconscious of the many layers, it is still part of the known. So when I seek, I am only seeking that which I know. That which I know is the projection from my past, and it is the freedom from the known that is the real revolution. That freedom cannot be brought about through any discipline. I cannot be free through any discipline, through any practice, because I am a bundle of memory, experiences, knowledge; and if I practise a discipline to free my mind from the I, it is merely another continuance of memory. So there is no freedom from the me, the known, whether you are conscious or unconscious of it. That freedom can only come about when I understand, when there is the 16 understanding of the whole process of the me - not to direct the process; because, in the me, when it directs, there is the director and also the thing it directs, which are both the same. There is no observer different from the observed; there is only one entity, the experiencer and the experienced. As long as there is the experiencer, which is the me, experiencing something which he wants, it is still the known. So our difficulty is, is it not?, that our mind is always moving from the known to the known. How is this movement to be stopped? Creativity is the action of the unknown, not of the known. The unknown is Truth, God or what you like. The activity of that state, of that Reality, is creative; it is the action without memory. That is why I feel it astonishingly, immensely, important to find out not how to free the mind from the known, but to be in that state when the mind is free from the known. The being of the freedom from the known is the true religious revolution. Our minds are so used to being told what to do. The religious books, the Gurus, the Saints, political leaders and leaders of every other kind are telling us what to do - how to be free, how to be led to be free, what you should do, how you should discipline, practise virtues, and so on. Now, if you examine, if you look at it carefully, you will see that it is the practice of the known all the time; in that, there is no creativity at all. It is merely the continuity of `the me' in a different form. That is all we know, that is our knowledge. The movement from that state to a state in there is the freedom from the known, cannot be brought about by any practice, by any discipline, by any thought process. I think that is the real thing to be understood. If one really understands it, the revolution that extraordinary thing, is there. But as long as we think in terms of getting there, in terms of practice which will help us to get there, it is the continuance of the known which is in time. When one really grasps, understands, the process of the movement of the mind from the known, and that any movement from that known cannot be in the state of the unknown, if one really understands, has the feeling, communes with that truth that any movement of the known will never lead to the unknown, then only is there the unknown. But our mind refuses to see that fact, because our minds are so used to be told of various kinds of Yoga, the following of certain ideologies, sacrifices, the building of virtues, the development of character and so on. You know all the movements of the known. But if you can really grasp the significance of this movement of the known and see the truth of it, then the other state of being, of the unknown, comes into being. That is why it is very important to understand the process of the mind - which is after all self-knowledge - to know, to see the mirror image of thought, of the activity of the mind, to just be aware of it without condemning it, without giving it a name. In that awareness without choice, you will see that the other comes into being. But a mind that is looking for the unknown, trying to experience the unknown, can never experience it. When the mind itself becomes the unknown, only then, there is creativity, and that which is timeless comes into being. Sir, what is the purpose of a question? Is the purpose to find an answer to the problem, or to understand the problem? I have a problem, you have a problem; do we want to understand the problem or do we seek an answer through the problem? Do we want a solution, or to understand the intricacies, the complexities of the problem? Most of us suffer; there is pain, anxiety; and most of us are concerned with how to get rid of it, how to do away with pain, with disturbance. So we all the time seek ways and means to overcome it, to put it away. The inward psychological suffering of `the me' is always trying to find an answer, a way out. But if we could understand the maker of the problem, `the me', that is everlastingly following, that is frustrated, that is feeling lonely, anxious, fearful, then in the very understanding of the problem And of the maker of that problem, there is the answer. But to understand the problem requires a mind that is not seeking a result, an answer. If you will observe your own mind, you will see what is happening. If you have a problem you want some one to tell you what to do; so your emphasis is on the solution and not on the understanding of the problem. In answering this question we are concerned with the problem and not with the answer. If you go away disappointed because your question is not answered, it is your fault, because there is no answer to life. Life has no answer. Life has only one thing, one problem - which is, living. The man who lives totally, completely, every minute without choice, neither accepting nor rejecting the thing as it is, such a man is not seeking an answer, he is not asking what the purpose of life is, nor is he seeking a way out of life. But that requires great insight into oneself. Without self-knowledge, merely to seek an answer has no meaning at all, because the answer will be what is most satisfactory, what is gratifying. That is what most of us want; we want to be gratified, we want to find a safe place, a heaven where there will be no disturbance. But as long as we seek, life will be disturbed. Question: Truth, to you, appears to have no abode. Surely Truth is one Absolute. Do you not, by making it a matter of perception in the moment, reduce and limit it so that it loses its absolute nature? Krishnamurti: How do we know it is absolute, final, timeless? How do you know? Is it a guess, a speculation, or have you read about it in books? Is truth something of time? Is it of the known, a projection of the known? Our difficulty is, is it not?, that we want something permanent. Because we see life is transient, we want something fixed, permanent, absolute, changeless; because everything about us is changing, we project the absolute, the changeless, the permanent. When we are given the assurance of that permanency, of that absolute, we feel safe, because we want that absolute, that permanency. Is there anything permanent? The mind can invent the permanent, the idea of permanency, and take shelter in that permanency; but it is still an invention of the mind, a projection of the mind, a thing from the past, from its own knowledge of uncertainty, from the fear of its impermanency. Is Truth something to be remembered, to be recognised? If I can recognise truth, it is already the known. Recognising implies the action of the known, does it not? Can the mind which is the product of time, the product of the past, the centre of memory, can that mind know Truth? Or does Truth come into being when there is the freedom from the process of the known, when there is the cessation of the process of recognition? Then there is the Truth which may be from moment to moment, which may have no quality, no time. But the mind experiences for a single second what is truth, then remembers and says: `I must have that again'. The desire to have it again is the projection, is the continuity of memory, which prevents the next experience of truth. Sirs, that which is Real is not to be gathered, to be held. The mind must be free from all sense of acquisitiveness. But the mind which is the only instrument we have, is gathering, takes impressions. With that mind, we create the unknown, we project into the future the things which we want. For truth there is no path, there is no discipline; all the sacrifices of the mind are in vain - the rituals, the practices. There must be freedom, not at the end but right from the beginning - freedom to enquire, to search, to find out, to discover about truth. Through discipline, there can be no freedom from fear. So our problem is not whether truth is absolute, but how to be free from the acquisitive process of the mind, free from gathering. A man who has great experiences, great knowledge, is never free because his knowledge, his experience prevents that freedom which is necessary for discovery. If one really understands this, then books, sacred or otherwise, have no significance, they are not shelters, they are no use to you as a way to Reality. They are hindrances when they become a means to knowledge, when they are a shelter, when they are a part of the acquisitive process. See how difficult it is for a mind that has an experience which it calls rich, to be free from that experience; because, it is always wanting more, more and more, and the demand for the more - with which the mind is occupied - prevents the immediate experience of the real. So the question is really: `Will the mind ever be free from the experience of yesterday or from the immediate experience, and leave the acquisitive memory behind?' That is truth. A mind is never free so long as it is acquisitive - not the acquisitiveness of things only, but the acquisitive pursuits of the mind that demands more, asks for more experience, or looks back to an experience that it had which it calls rich. Such a mind is in constant movement of experience, constantly gathering; such a mind can never experience or be in the state of the unknown - which is obviously a thing from moment to moment, which is not in time but from moment to moment, in which there is no action from one experience, one state, to another state; each state is a new unknown thing and that state cannot possibly be understood as long as there is an experiencer experiencing, gathering. Question: I am a businessman. I have heard you and I feel that I would like to do something for my employees. What am I to do? Krishnamurti: Sir this is our world, is it not? It is our earth, not the businessman's earth or the poor man's earth. It is our earth. It is not a Communist world nor the Capitalist world, it is our world in which to live, to enjoy, to be happy. That is the first necessity, to have that feeling - which is not a sentiment, but an actuality in which there is love, a feeling that it is `ours'. Without that feeling, mere legislation or Union Wages or working for the State - which is another kind of boss - is of very little meaning; then we become merely employees either of the State or of a businessman. But when there is the feeling that this is `our earth', then there will be no employer and the employed, no feeling that the one is the boss and the other is the employee; but we have not that feeling of ourness; each man is out for himself; each nation, each group, each party, each religion, is out for itself. We are human beings living on this earth; it is our earth to be cherished, to be created, to be cared for. Without that feeling, we want to create a new world. So every kind of experiment is being made - sharing profits, compulsory work, union wages, legislation, compulsion - every form of coercion, persuasion, is used. It seems to me that the primary thing is to have the feeling that we are all human beings, not businessmen, not employees. That is why it is important to have a religious revolution, not an economic revolution only. The revolution must begin at the centre and not at the periphery. I know you will say that it is impossible, that it is an Utopia, that this can never be worked out and so on. But, Sir, this is the most practical thing. You say it is impractical and silly, out of focus, because you are looking at it from a particular point of view, you are not concerned with the total development of man. The businessman asks `What can I do?' If he has that feeling, he can do a hundred things; he can make the poor rich by sharing, he can make his employees share in the business, he can make the business a cooperative concern. There are so many ways. But without this extraordinary feeling that we are one humanity, that this is our earth, mere legislation and compulsion or persuasion will only lead to further destruction and further misery. Question: Help us to understand this terrible fear of death, that pursues every man and woman? Krishnamurti: Is fear to be got rid of through any reason through any logical conclusion, through the assertion of any beliefs? Even if you are told that, after death, you are going to live your next life, would you be free of fear? It may pacify you, quieten you for the time being; but that sense of not knowing, not being certain, still pursues. So is fear to be put aside through belief, through reason? You know that you will die - which is the lot of everyone. Logi- cally you know everything ceases; and there is a peculiar continuity, because you continue in your son, in your daughter, in your neighbour; and you are the continuity of your father and mother. Though you know logically there is death, are you free from fear? Logically, intellectually, verbally, inwardly, can you be free from fear? Fear exists only in relationship, is it not? You are afraid of death, death being the unknown; you are afraid of your mind ceasing to be. Though you know you are going to cease and you believe you will be resurrected or you will be reborn, will you be ever free from fear? So, how are you to be free from fear? Is there a way to be free from fear? If I tell you how to be free, will you be free? You may practise, you may say `I know everything ends, and ending may be a new beginning; and in the ending there may be a creativity; or when I cease the unknown comes into being'. You may persuade yourself, you may reason, but will fear cease? So fear is something not to be understood or to be put aside by the mind, because the very mind is fear. It is the mind that creates fear, the idea of ceasing, the idea of coming to an end. It is the mind that says `I have lived so long, I should not come to an end I must experience more, I have not fulfilled.' It is the mind that asks `What is going to happen to me tomorrow?' The tomorrow is created by the mind. The tomorrow and the coming to an end of tomorrow are ideas which form the process of the mind. Fear therefore is created by the mind, and the mind cannot overcome fear, do what you will. If you see the truth of this - that the mind creates fear - then there is the ending of the process of thinking of the tomorrow. Sir, as long as the mind operates as being in time or knowing this ending of time, there is fear. Fear is the process of the mind and the mind cannot free itself of its process; all that it can do is to be aware of the process that there is fear, and not try to overcome it or to do something about it, but to observe fear and not to act; for, to act is still to create fear. So only when the mind does not create tomorrow - which means, the dying of today, the ending of the thought process now - only then, is there no fear. When the mind sees this truth, then the mind is itself in a state of the unknown, and is not the accumulation of all the many yesterdays. It is only when we die, from day to day, to all the things that we have gathered, then only is there such a thing as the ending of fear. February 17, 1954 BOMBAY 5TH PUBLIC TALK 21ST FEBRUARY 1954 It seems to me, that, if we could find for ourselves an ever-refreshing and refilling source of happiness or bliss, most of our problems would be solved. We are everlastingly searching after that source in all our relationships, in the things that we pursue with motive and sometimes without motive. The things that we accumulate as knowledge and the things of the heart and the mind are all surely an indication, are they not?, that we want to find some inexhaustible source of bliss from which we can always live and be happy and create. But that fountain seems to elude us. We are always pursuing a phantom, and we never have the substance itself. I think, perhaps if we could consider what we have been discussing the last few times we met here - namely, the problem of religious revolution - if we know how to bring about that revolution, it may give us that source, and bliss may come into being in our lives. Is total revolution a matter of process? Is it a matter of how to get there? Total revolution is not a revolution through a process, through gradual adjustments, denials, resistance and discipline. Total revolution is in the moment. Every other form of revolution or change, it seems to me, is a process of adjustment to a particular pattern, to an ideal, to an Utopia, or what you will; it is a gradual process; and, it seems to me, such a process, such a gradual approach, the so-called evolutionary method, is not religious - it may be scientific, but it is radically not a religious approach at all. It seems to me very important to understand this religious state and be there but not come to it. That is not possible, it seems to me, if we think in terms of time - as getting there, arriving, practising a certain method, having a certain approach which will gradually reveal that astonishing, creative release of the timeless. It is a matter of dying each day to all the things that we know, all that we have experienced, all that we have learnt. The important thing is the dying but not how to die each day. Before we proceed further, it is very important to find out how we listen. If you are an intellectual, if you have read a great many books, if you have acquired great knowledge, and if your brain and your mind is full, can you listen? Does not that very knowledge interfere with what is being said, with your discovery of truth? Your brain may be very sharp, intellectual, capable of progressive rational examination; but will such a mind, the so-called intellectual mind, come to that state? That state surely can only be when the activity of the mind has ceased. So, is it not important for this so-called intellectual mind, to put aside if it can, all the things that it has leant, studied, read? I am sure that, other wise, the intellectual mind will never find that which is real. The intellectual mind is capable of great deception; because, in the process of analysis, it discards, it puts away; there is always the fear of uncertainty and therefore it clings to some form of belief, as most intellectuals do. Is it not important for those of us who are not too brainy, to know how to listen? The average person who is struggling, who is miserable, feels lost; he does not know where to find comfort, where to find understanding, on whom to rely; because all the political and so-called religious leaders have led him nowhere, there is greater confusion, greater contradiction in his life. Being the average, so-called mediocre mind, he is everlastingly struggling to be something. Is it not very important for him to find out how to listen? The mediocre man, the average man, like any other mind, really wants to find a method of immediate action; he wants to know what to do, because he is caught in circumstances, in life that has become a routine, a boredom, a self-revealing frustration. Is it not important for a mind which is always striving for an end, for a result, for something to get at, for something by which it will be guided, to know how to listen because what we hear is translated in terms of action - not that action is not important? It seems to me that the happy man knows to live, and living is his action; but the unhappy man is everlastingly seeking a pattern of action. As most of us are unhappy, struggling, trying to find some light or happiness, we are more concerned to listen in order to find a pattern of action; and so we are caught in this vain search for a pattern for action and we lose the art of listening, listening not only to what is being said here, but to everything about us - to the roar of the sea, to the song of birds, to children's voices, to the books that we read. We do not listen because our minds are too occupied, and our occupations are petty. Even the mind that is occupied or concerned with the search for God, is petty because it is occupied. It is only the mind that is free, quiet and unoccupied, that has bliss, that has infinite space; to such a mind comes that which is eternal. A mind that is occupied with worries, with the salvation of mankind, with social reforms, with knowledge - such a mind can never listen, because there is no space, no emptiness, in which a new thing, a new seed, can come into being. I think it is very important to have such a space in your mind, unoccupied, quiet, without striving; because, only in those dark moments, the light is seen dimly; but you cannot see this when the mind is constantly occupied, pursuing, asking begging. There are those minds which listen, which are immature - the students. They also listen, do they not?, in order to learn, in order to gather information according to which they are going to live; they want examples, similes; they want to be shown the way what to do, how to listen. Surely, all such minds - the student, the average, and the so-called intellectual person - are occupied, they have no space, no emptiness in which something real or something false can be discovered. Surely, a mind must have space in which a new seed can be born - the seed that comes, not through striving, not through a process, not through the deliberate evolution of the imitator, not through any practice in order to arrive. The mind must have that small space in the mind, however else the mind is occupied, and that little space must be undisturbed, uncontaminated; in that space, eternal fountain of bliss can come into being. But, to create that space is not an act of volition; you cannot say: `How am I going to create it'? The moment you put the `how', then your mind is occupied. If you see the importance, the sheer beauty and the necessity of quietness, then that space is there; that space is the dying to everything that one has known, to all the memories, to all the experiences, to all the accumulations of knowledge, information. We do die, the body is undergoing a change obviously; there is an ending to the noble, the ignoble. But the mind refuses to die to the things of yesterday. We carry over from day to day, and this carrying over is memory by which we give continuity to that. We hope that, in this continuity of learning, acquiring modifying, changing here and there, there will be a revolution, a radical transformation. That which can continue is never a religious transformation. It is only when thought comes to an end and has no continuity, that there is a dying to the mind and, in that a radical transformation can take place. Just listen to this. Don't say: `How am I to get those things of which you say?' I am not saying anything, I am just describing the state of the mind, a machinery, an organism that is perpetually making a noise, that can never hear silence. Our thoughts are in constant motion, in constant movement; and thought is the continuity of yesterday - which is the process of time - and, in the process of time, there can never be a radical transformation; there can be only a change, an escape, a modification, but not that real religious revolution in which there is no process but there is `being'. For instance, a man who is acquisitive, however much he may practise, control, discipline - which is the process of time -will never find a state in which that non-acquisitive state is. Freedom from acquisitiveness is not a process, it is a state which must happen; and the happening can only take place when there is dying; because, it is only when you come to an end that there is something new. The mind refuses to come to an end because mind is the result of time, of centuries of compulsion, of conformity, of imitation; the mind only knows struggle, judgment, values based on that struggle; and it is trying to change by struggling, by saying: `I must change; there must be an action by me which will produce happiness.' So we have economic, scientific, or social revolutions, but not the real religious revolution which is the only revolution. Religion is not the worshipping of idols, the performance of ritual, or the pursuit of the ideals of the mind. Surely religion is something entirely different to the repetition of what the ancient teachers have said in the Vedas or in the Upanishads - all that must go, it must all end in the fire of silence. The difficulty is we never want to be uncertain, we are afraid of losing everything. So the mind, being uncertain, pursues certainty; thereby it creates fear; out of fear comes imitation, the establishment of authority - political, religious, or of one's own volition - because the mind demands a state of continuity in which it is certain. And a mind that is seeking certainty has never space in which the real can come into being. So it seems to me that those of you who are listening should be concerned not with `how' but rather with `being' - to be, to have some space in the mind, in which there is no movement of thought, thought being the continuity of yesterday. Thought can never produce a new world. The intellect can never produce a new state. It is only when thought comes to an end, when I am dead to all the yesterdays, that there is a possibility of that religious revolution which is so necessary to create a new world. Every God must go, for the real God to come. We have too many Gods now in our mind, so the real God can never come into being. Just see the truth or falseness of it, just listen to the fact whether it is true or not. Just to know the fact, in itself is liberation. To know that, there must be an ending of yesterday, one must die to the memories, to the enrichment of one's experiences, to the knowledge that one pursues in order to be certain; all that must come to an end; for, they are all things made by the mind. The mind is the result of time. You, as the self, as `the me', as the ego, are a product of the mind. The character, the tendency, the various disciplines, the various controls and persuasions are all the result of time; they are the product of time. Mind is what nature, what the environment, has made it through culture, through fear, through imitation, through comparison, through so-called education; such a mind - do what it will, progress, struggle - can never bring about an action which is the outcome of bliss, which is the outcome of the revolt to find reality. Really one has to see the simplicity of it - not the simplicity of the external, but the simplicity of being in that state - not to arrive, not to struggle to be something, but to be like a flower. It is in itself perfume, it is in itself beauty; there is no effort, no struggle. The mind that struggles to have the timeless beauty of that perfume, is incapable of knowing it. The mind that struggles can never know it; all its rituals, all its experiences, all its sacrifices, are in vain, because the self is always there and the self is the centre of all thinking. One must die to that thinking every day. The rebirth in tomorrow is the religious revolution. Let us now consider the problem of isolation. When you have a problem, have you not isolated yourself? You have no communion, because I You have no communion, because your mind is so concerned with the problem and with the solution of that problem, that you shut yourself off from the real understanding of that problem. When the mind is occupied with the problem, the mind is isolating itself. Don't put your mind to work, but see what creates the problem. It is the mind. The mind in isolation, in that state of non-communion, has a problem and then we ask questions to find an answer which will unlock the problem. So we are looking for a key and not at the problem itself. A mind that is occupied with the problem can never look into the problem. We have so many problems in life, not only economic, social, which are all surface problems, but the unconscious problems, the deep problems which control and shape the economic, the outer issues. They are the result, the fruit, of our confusion, of our inward struggle. The mere superficial alteration of the economic will not break down the inward entity which is shaping everything to suit itself. So to really understand the problem, the mind must not be occupied with the problem. But most of us are so eager to solve the problem confronting us, that we want an immediate answer; for us the answer is very important because we think that, by having an answer, we have solved the problem. A mind that seeks the answer is a very superficial mind, it is really a mediocre mind. We are all educated to find answers, to be told what to do, to copy, to practise what we are told to do. Surely life is a process of living from day to day, and living has no answer. There is only the problem and living is the problem. A mind that is merely seeking an answer to the problem will find an answer; but the problem will still remain and it will come in another form. So, if I know how to understand the problem, if I can know how to look at the problem, then the problem is resolved. Because I do not know how to look at the problem, I seek the answer. I cannot deal with the problem if I condemn it. That is the real basic thing that prevents us from understanding the problem. The problem is there so long as we judge, condemn, compare. Sir, when you do not condemn, when you do not judge or compare, is there a problem for the mind? The mind that condemns, judges, analyses, compares, creates the problem. Do not say: `How am I to act?' If you learn a method, the method becomes the master of your mind and again there is the problem; but if you see the truth of the statement that to condemn, to judge, to compare creates the problem, then you will see that the problem itself has already full significance. Question: I see how wrongly I have been educated. What am I to do? Can I re-educate myself or am I mutilated for life? Krishnamurti: Sir when the mind is diseased, when the brain is diseased, then education is impossible, is it not? But we are living human beings, and there is that quality, that intelligence which can be awakened, which can educate itself. There is no human entity who is so mutilated that he cannot bring regeneration to himself. To understand how wrongly we have been educated is a very difficult thing to do. Before you say you must re-educate yourself, must you not know how you have been wrongly educated? Is it so easy to say that you have been wrongly educated? That is, you may be educated to a particular technological job and you find that is not your way of life, but you are sticking there because of your responsibilities. To break that and to go to a new job, is that education? Or to learn a new language, to learn a new technique, is that education? Surely, to find out what is wrong education requires a great deal of perception, insight. It is not so easily to be asserted that most of us are wrongly educated. Education from childhood has been the cultivation of fear and that is all we know. We have ever been brought up with that. Through examination, through comparison with the clever boy, with what the father was, with the mother, with the uncle, we are made stupid through various forms of compulsion from parents, from teachers, from society; the cultivation of fear is there. As we go out of college, we fit into a wrong pattern of life and do what we are told to do. Fear produces the inevitable course of life; and as we grow, life becomes darker and more confused. That is your life; but parents do not understand that fear destroys and that fear does not come into being if there is no comparison from childhood, if there are no examinations but only records kept of each child. All our education has been the cultivation of fear - religious, economic, social. Everything is based on fear. You want to be somebody; otherwise you are nobody; therefore you struggle, compete, destroy yourself. Only that man is `nobody', who is not afraid. Being nobody is true education. There is the sense of anonymity in the great things of creative life. Truth is anonymous, not yours or mine. There cannot be anonymity when the mind is frightened. So to uncover the ways of fear and to be free - not at the end of life but to be free from the very beginning so that I understand what fear is - that is real education. From childhood, the ways of fear are to be understood so that, as one grows, one can meet fear, can meet all the problems of life, so that one's mind, though it always meets problems, is always fresh, new, so that there is no deteriorating factor such as the memory of yesterday. Question: Has prayer no validity, or is true prayer the same as meditation? Krishnamurti: Prayer and the thing that you call meditation are acts of volition. Are they not? We deliberately sit down to meditate, we take a certain posture, concentrate in order to understand. We pray because we suffer. Behind prayer and the ways of meditation that we know, there is an act of volition, an act of will. When you pray, obviously it is an act of will; you want, you beg, you ask; as a result of your confusion, misery, suffering, you ask some one to give you knowledge, comfort; and you do have comfort. The asker generally receives what he asks for; but what he receives may not be the truth, and generally it is not the truth. You cannot come to truth as a beggar. Truth must come to you; then only you see the truth, not by asking. But we are beggars, we everlastingly seek comfort, we seek some kind of state in which we will never be disturbed; we ask for that, and we will have the reward; but the reward is death, stagnation. Don't you know the people who demand peace? They have peace, but their peace is isolation and they keep on repeating the same phrases which they memorize. The mind makes them quiet. It is like a stagnant pool with moss, the words are covered with the activities of the mind. The mind is made dull. Surely, that is not meditation. Meditation is something totally different, is it not? Please follow what I am saying and see the truth of meditation. To meditate, there must be the understanding of the mediator; that is the first requirement - not how to meditate; because, how to meditate only develops concentration which is exclusion. You may be absorbed in your exclusion, but that is not meditation. Meditation is the process of self-knowledge which is the knowledge of the mediator - not the higher mediator who is meditating, not the higher self which is searching. To think about the higher self is not meditation. Meditation is to be aware of the activities of the mind - the mind as the mediator, how the mind divides itself as the mediator and the meditation, how the mind divides itself as the thinker and the thought, the thinker dominating thought, controlling thought, shaping thought. So in all of us, there is the thinker separate from the thought; the thinker has become the higher Self, the nobler self, the Atman, or what you will; but it is still the mind divided as the thinker and the thought. The mind seeing thought in flux, impermanent, creates the thinker as the permanent, as the Atman which is permanent, absolute and endless. The moment the mind has created the higher self, the Atman, that higher self is still of time; it is still within the field of memory; it is an invention of the mind, it is an illusion created by the mind for a purpose. That is a psychological fact, whether you like it or not; you may resist it, you may say that it is all modern nonsense, that what is said in the Upanishads, in the Gita, is contrary to what I am saying. But if you really examine closely and are not afraid and do not resist, you will see that there is only thinking which creates the thinker, not the thinker first and thinking afterwards. You do not think you are nobody. Because your thoughts are conditioned, because you think as a Hindu, you consider yourself to be a separate mind, a separate state in which there is the thinker. As long as there is an experiencer experiencing, there can be no true meditation. But the discovery that the experiencer is the experience, is meditation. Can one discover for oneself - not according to what Shankara or Buddha has said - can one see the truth that the experiencer and the experience are one, that the thought and the thinker are integral? I can only discover it by the process of meditation - which is, to understand what is actually taking place, to observe the ways of my mind. That is not a trick, a thing to be learnt, that the experiencer and the experience are one. You cannot glibly repeat it, it means nothing. But the moment I see, through meditation, the truth of that, then meditation begins: then meditation is no posture for an hour but it is a state which continues throughout the day; because, the mind is in a state of awareness, not as the experiencer experiencing - therefore judging, weighing, clearing, evaluating -because, after all, every experience makes the experiencer, every thought makes the thinker, puts the thinker together. Look what happens when you have an experience of any kind, your mind immediately registers it, remembers; the remembering of it is the creation of the experiencer, because then the experiencer says I must have more of it or the less of it. Watch your own minds and see how any experience creates the thinker, the rememberer, and then the thinker, the experiencer, says `There must be more', and so it perpetuates itself. It is the process of time. The mind is everlastingly seeking an experience - a richer, wider, nobler, deeper, purer experience - and so it receives: and the very reception is the creation of the chains that bind humanity. Memory is `the me' which is the experiencer. So when I, as the experiencer, seek God, when I seek truth, which I shall know, from which I shall receive help, my mind moves from the known to the known, from time to time; and this process is what you call meditation. But it is an ugly practice, it is not meditation at all, it is merely the perpetuation of the self in a different way. There is no meditation in the deeper sense of the word, when there are an experiencer and the experience. There must be the cessation of the experiencer and the experience, the things which the experiencer recollects, recognises - which means, there must be a state in which there is no recognition; which means, dying to every experience as it comes and not creating the experiencer. If you really listen and see the truth or falseness of it, you will know what meditation is - not how one is to meditate, but to see the full significance of what meditation is. After all, virtue is order. What you are, so you must be. Real virtue is a clean thing, but it is not an end in itself. What you put in the room is more important, not how clean your room is. So the cultivation of the mind or the building up of virtue is not important; that is not the emptying of the mind necessary to receive that which is eternal. The mind must be empty to receive that. That which is measureless can only come into being, you cannot invite it, it will only come into being when the mind no longer demands, is no longer praying, asking, begging when the mind is free, free from thought. The ending of thought is the way of meditation. There must be freedom from the known for the unknown to be. This is meditation, and this cannot come through any trick, through any practice. Practice, discipline, suppression, denial, sacrifice only strengthen the experiencer, they give him power to control himself; but that power destroys. So it is only when the mind has neither the experiencer nor the experience, that there is that bliss which is, which cannot be sought, which comes into being when the mind is silent and free. February 21, 1954 BOMBAY 6TH PUBLIC TALK 24TH FEBRUARY 1954 I think, if we can understand the problem of frustration, we shall have a mentality that is not merely, intellectual, but an integrated activity. Our religions, our social activities are based on frustration and sorrow. If we can go into this question of frustration, which is really the problem of duality, we may be able, for ourselves as individuals, to come on to this creativity, which is not a mere capacity or gift but a totally different action. If we can go into this question of what is duality and the conflict between `what is' and `what should be', then perhaps we shall understand the mind that is without root, because most of our minds have roots. The very existence of mind indicates, does it not?, thought having root in the past. It is that root which creates duality. Is it possible not to give continuity to that root in the present or in the future? It is only t a mind that is without root, that can be truly religious and therefore capable of radical transformation, for reality to come into being. I would like to go into that, which may be rather a difficult question; but if we can deal with it simply, not philosophically, then perhaps we may be able to see and understand it for ourselves. But the difficulty is going to be, that most of us have read so much about this problem of duality; we know the problem according to some philosophy, according to some teacher, but we do not know it directly, without it being pointed out. If we can discuss the problem of duality, not intellectually or philosophically, but observe the activities of our own minds as I talk, then perhaps we will see the problem in a different manner. If you can listen, not to my description but to the activities of your own minds as I begin to describe, as I begin to verbalize, then it will be a direct experience, which is far more vital and significant than merely discovering a dual process in all of us, which some philosopher or some religious teacher or some book has indicated. But the difficulty is going to be that those of you who listen, have already come to a conclusion or you have heard what I have said previously, and so your mind is full of the ashes of memory of what I have said; therefore it will not be a fresh experience, something real, living. Those of you who are here for the first time will only be puzzled because I may be using words that have a different significance than yours. But knowing all the difficulties of the ashes of memory, of previous knowledge and experience, of coming here for the first time and listening to something so very philosophical and difficult and therefore brushing it aside, you have to listen with a freshness of mind. That freshness of mind cannot come into being if you do not observe your own process of thought, as I begin to talk about this problem of frustration and duality. I am not telling you anything, I am only stating facts. You and I can understand the fact can look at is it without any condemnation without any judgment, can merely observe it and be aware of it entirely - not as the observer watching but to see what is actually happening to actually experience the process how the mind creates duality and therefore brings into being frustration upon which our whole culture, religions, social activities are based. If we can understand this, then we shall find out what true freedom is. The difficulty is that most of you treat these talks as lectures, as something to be listened to, something to be remembered, something in which you will have many experiences, thrills, emotional excitations. But that is not at all what is intended, at least from my part. What is important is to have this religious revolution, a radical fundamental religious transformation, because all other changes have no meaning, all other revolutions merely end in further misery. If we can see the truth of that, the importance of a radical religious revolution, and that it alone can bring about a radical change in our relationships towards all men, then these talks will be not merely an intellectual or an emotional excitement or amusement but something that will have significance in our daily life. So, we have to listen as though we are hearing it for the first time, we have to listen with a freshness; and that freshness cannot come into being if you do not watch your own minds as I begin to talk, as I go into the problem. The problem is is it not? one of struggle, conflict, the constant struggle of `what I am' and `what I should be', the conflict between `what is' and `what might be'. The mind is everlastingly striving, struggling, accommodating, adjusting, disciplining, controlling according to `what should be'. That is all we know. This `should be' is more important to us than `what is'. We have these ideological patterns, and the mind is constantly adjusting itself to those patterns. The adjustment is the action of will, through compulsion, through persuasion; and this brings about struggle, and the struggle produces frustration. This is not oversimplification. This is what actually happens with each one of us: `I am this and, in the future, I should be that'. But the future, what should be, the ideal, is the projection of `what is', it is a contradiction of `what is'. The mind sees `I hate', and it says, `I should love', so the mind is everlastingly adjusting, forcing, disciplining itself into a state which it calls love. I never know love but my mind pursues what, it thinks, is love - which is an idea, the opposite of what I am. The projection of an idea of what love is, is not love, because it is a reaction of what I am, which is `I hate'. In my struggle to capture that love, I am violent and I have the idea of non-violence; so I practise, I discipline, I control, I shape my life according to that background, according to that particular pattern, and that pattern I never fulfil. I can never be that because, when I do reach it, the mind has already invented another pattern. So I keep on changing from one pattern to another. So my life is a series of frustration, sorrow, always striving for one thing after another. So my whole life is a series of struggles and unhappiness, and that is all I know. What is important is not `what should be', but `what is'. What is, what I know, is the fact. The other is not. If the mind can pursue totally `what is', without creating the opposite, then I will find out what is love - not the love as the opposite of hate. But the problem involved in understanding what is hate, requires awareness in which there is no condemnation. Because, the moment I condemn, I hate, I have created already the opposite. I hope I am making it very clear and simple. If we can see this thing, it is really an extraordinary release from all the frustrations that we have developed. We are an unhappy people; our religion is unhappy it is the product of unhappiness, of strife, of frustration; our Gods and the very culture that we have is the result of this frustration. So, we have to understand not merely verbally, intellectually, but very deeply, the fact of what I am, the fact of what is. The fact is `I hate, I am violent', that is all. But the mind does not want to accept that fact; therefore it creates the opposite - that is, it condemns the fact and so creates the opposite. The very condemnation is the process of creating duality. Now if I can be aware that my mind condemns, that through condemnation I create the opposite and therefore bring into being struggle, that very realization of the fact that condemnation creates the opposite in which there is conflict, that very awareness, stops the whole process of condemnation - not through any compulsion but merely through the awareness of the fact. So I have only the fact that I hate, without any mental projection of the opposite. You understand, Sirs, what an extraordinary release it is when you have no opposite? Then you can deal with the fact. Then the thing that I have called hate, if I do not condemn it, is not hate. But I condemn hate and wish to transform it into love, because my mind has its root in the past. The valuation is the judgment of the past; and with that background I approach hate and wish to transform that hate into what I call love; this brings about conflict, struggle, with all its disciplines, controls, and so-called meditations. Now, can there be freedom from the past? Can there be freedom from thought projecting itself into the future? I hate; that hate is the result of the past, a reaction; then thought condemns it and projects it into the future as `I must love; so thought establishes a root in the present and in the future; thus, thought is continuous; and in that continuity there is the struggle to continue in the form of the opposite. What I am trying to find out is whether the mind can ever be free totally, and not have root. The moment mind has root, it must project, it must stretch out; the stretching out is the opposite; so thought is continuous, it never comes to an end; it is the continuity of my conditioning, of my background to the future; and therefore there is never freedom. I am trying to find out if the mind can ever be in a state in which it is not establishing roots through experiences. Without being in that state, the mind is never free, it is always in conflict. Therefore, to a mind that has root, there is always frustration; and whatever be its activity - social, cultural, religious - still it is the outcome of frustration; therefore it is not the real religious transformation in which there is the cessation of all projection of thought taking root in the mind. Can the mind ever be without root? You do not know. All that you can do is to find out, to see if the mind can be without root -like the Sea, living, having its being without root, without establishing itself in a particular place, in a particular experience, in a particular thought. Sir, it is only the mind that is without root, that can know what is real. Because, the moment the mind experiences and establishes that experience in memory, that memory becomes the root, the past; then that memory demands more and more experiences; therefore there is constant frustration of the present. Frustration implies, does it not?, the condemnation of the state of the mind as it is. The mind as it is, is full of tradition, time, memories, anger, jealousy. Can we understand that mind without condemnation - that is, without the creation of the opposite? The moment we condemn `what is', we do not understand it. The very understanding of `what is' can only happen without condemnation; then only, there is freedom from `what is'. To me, a mind which has no struggle of duality, is the really religious mind - not the mind which is struggling to conquer anger, not the mind ,that is struggling to become nonviolent; such a mind is only living in the struggle of the opposite. It is only the true religious mind that has not the conflict of the opposite; such a mind never knows frustration; such a mind does not struggle to become something, it is what it is. In understanding what it actually is, the mind is no longer putting roots in memory. Please just listen to this; it does not matter whether it is false or true, but find out for yourself. A mind that has continuity in memory will always be frustrated, will always be struggling to be something. The becoming is the taking root - in an idea, in a person, in an object. Once the mind has taken root, then the problem arises: `How is it to free itself?' The freeing of itself becomes then the opposite; and the struggle then is `How to free oneself?' But if one sees, understands, is aware of the truth of how the mind is always taking root in every experience, in every reaction, then, in that awareness, there is no choice, there is no condemnation, therefore no creation of the opposite, and therefore there is no struggle. Then the mind has no root but it is living, it has no continuity but is in a state of being in which time is not. I think, it is important to understand this not merely verbally or intellectually, but actually to see how the mind is creating the struggle and the dual process. The action of the mind that is without root, is creative because that mind is no longer in a state of frustration, from which it paints, it writes or seeks reality. Such a mind does not seek - seeking implies duality; seeking implies struggle, the stretching out of the past into the future, in thought, which establishes itself in the root of the future. If the mind can see that, be aware of it, then there is an astonishing release from all struggle; and therefore there is a happiness and bliss; and that happiness and that bliss is not the opposite of sorrow, misery or frustration. These are not just words, they are direct states which the mind takes hold of and establishes itself in the experience. They are actually states which cannot be experienced by a mind that is struggling to become the opposite. All this requires, does it not?, awareness of the process of the mind. What I mean by awareness is of the total process of existence - sorrow, pain, love, hate, feeling, the emotions, all of which is the mind. Is it not therefore important to see how your mind works, how it operates, how it projects, how it clings to the past, to tradition, to the innumerable experiences, and so prevents the experience of reality? To be aware of all that is not what the modern or the ancient teachers or the psychologists or the gurus say; what other people have said is merely information and has really no significance at all; but one has to discover for oneself this whole process of the mind. This discovery is not possible by the withdrawal in a dark corner of a mountain, but by living from day to day. You have also to see that what you had discovered may have already become the root, from which you act - that is, you have to discover how the mind uses the very discovery as an experience from which it thinks, and therefore that experience becomes the hindrance and leads to frustration. To see all this is awareness. That awareness can only happen when there is no condemnation - which means really the breaking down of all conditioning of the mind, so that the mind is in a state in which it is no longer establishing roots, and therefore it is a mind without anchor, and therefore there is real experience. It is only such a mind that can know and see that which is eternal. Sirs, in answering these questions, watch your own minds creating duality. How the mind is expecting an answer. It poses a question out of its own frustration, out of its own sorrow, out of its own troubles and confusion. It puts a question and makes it a problem, and it waits for an answer. On receiving an answer, it says: `How am I to get there?' The `how' is the struggle - the struggle between the problem and the answer, between `what is' and `what should be'. The method is `how', the method is the struggle; and therefore, the method in its very nature produces frustration. So it is the most stupid mind which says `How am I to do this?', `How am I to get there?', `I am this, but I would like to be that and so how'? What is important is `what is' and not `what should be'. The understanding of `what is' demands cessation of condemnation, that is all. Don't say: `How am I not to condemn'? Then you will be back again in the same old process. But see the truth of the statement that condemnation produces struggle and therefore duality and therefore the struggle towards the opposite. Just see that, just realize that fact; then there is the revealing of `what is' which is the problem. Question: I know loneliness, but you speak of a state of aloneness. Are they identical states? Krishnamurti: We know loneliness, don't we?, the fear, the misery, the antagonism, the real fright of a mind that is aware of its own loneliness. We all know that. Don't we? That state of loneliness is not foreign to any one of us. You may have all the riches, all the pleasures, you may have great capacity and bliss; but within there is always the lurking shadow of loneliness. The rich man, the poor man who is struggling, the man who is writing, creating, the worshipper - they all know this loneliness. When it is in that state, what does the mind do? The mind turns on the radio, picks up a book, runs away from `what is' into something which is not. Sirs, do follow what I am saying - not the words but the application, the observation of your own loneliness. When the mind is aware of its loneliness, it runs away, escapes. The escape, whether into religious contemplation or going to a cinema, is exactly the same; it is still an escape from `what is'. The man who escapes through drinking is no more immoral than the one who escapes by the worship of God; they are both the same, both are escaping. When you observe the fact that you are lonely, if there is no escape and therefore no struggle into the opposite, then, generally, the mind tends to condemn it according to the frame of its knowledge; but if there is no condemnation, then the whole attitude of the mind towards the thing it has called lonely, has undergone a complete change, has it not? After all, loneliness is a state of self-isolation, because the mind encloses itself and cuts itself away from every relationship, from everything. In that state, the mind knows loneliness; and if, without condemning it, the mind be aware and not create the escape, then surely that loneliness undergoes a transformation. The transformation might then be called `aloneness' - it does not matter what word you use. In that aloneness, there is no fear. The mind that feels lonely because it has isolated itself through various activities, is afraid of that loneliness. But if there is awareness in which there is no choice - which means no condemnation - then the mind is no longer lonely but it is in a state of aloneness in which there is no corruption, in which there is no process of self-enclosure. One must be alone, there must be that aloneness, in that sense. Loneliness is a state of frustration, aloneness is not; and aloneness is not the opposite of loneliness. Surely, Sirs, we must be alone, alone from all influences, from all compulsions, from all demands, longings, hopes, so that the mind is no longer in the action of frustration. That aloneness is essential, it is a religious thing. But the mind cannot come to it without understanding the whole problem of loneliness. Most of us are lonely, all our activities are the activities of frustration. The happy man is not a lonely man. Happiness is alone, and the action of aloneness is entirely different from the activities of loneliness. All this requires, does it not?, awareness, a total awareness of one's whole being, conscious as well as the unconscious. As most of us only live on the superficial consciousness, on the surface level of our mind, the deep underground forces, loneliness, desperations and hopes are always frustrating the superficial activity. So it is important to understand the total being of the mind; and that understanding is denied when there is awareness in which there is choice, condemnation. Question: Surely, Sir, in spite of all that you have said about following, you are aware that you are being continually followed. What is your action about it, as it is an evil according to you? Krishnamurti: Sir, we know that we follow - we follow the political leader, the Guru; or we follow a pattern or an experience. Our whole culture, our education, is based on imitation, authority, following. I say all following is evil, including the following of me. Following is evil, destructive; and yet, the mind follows, does it not? It follows the Buddha or Christ, or some idea, or a perfect Utopia, because the mind itself is in a state of uncertainty but it wants certitude. Following is the demand for certitude. The mind, demanding certitude is creating authority - political, religious or the authority of oneself - and it copies; therefore everlastingly it struggles. The follower never knows the freedom of not following. You can only be free when there is uncertainty, not when the mind is pursuing certainty. A mind that is following, is imitating, is creating authority, and therefore has fear. That is really the problem. We all know that we do follow, we accept some theories, some ideas, an Utopia, or something else because, deep down in the conscious as well as in the unconscious, there is fear. A mind that has no fear does not create the opposite, it has no problem of following; it has no Guru, it has no pattern; it is living. The mind is in a state of fear, fear of death, fear of something; and to be free, it does various activities which lead to frustration; then the problem arises: `Can the mind be free from fear, not how to be free?' `How to be free from fear' is a schoolboy question. From that question, all problems arise - struggle, the achieving of an end, and therefore the conflict of the opposites. Can the mind be free from fear? What is fear? Fear only exists in relation to something. Fear is not an abstract thing by itself, it is in relation to something. I am afraid of public opinion, I am afraid of my boss, my wife, my husband; I am afraid of death; afraid of my loneliness; I am afraid that I shall not reach, I shall not know happiness in this life, I shall not know God, Truth, and so on. So fear is always in relation to something. What is that fear? I think that if we can understand the question of desire, the problem of desire, then we will understand and be free from fear. `I want to be something', that is the root of all fear. When I want to be something, my wanting to be something and my not being that something create fear, not only in a narrow sense but in the widest sense. So, as long as there is the desire to be something, there must be fear. The freedom from desire is not the mental projection of a state which my desire says I must be in. You have simply to see the fact of desire, just be aware of it - as you see your image in a mirror in which there is no distortion, in which you see your face as it is and not as you wish it to be. The reflection of your face in the mirror is very exact; if you can be aware of desire in that sense, without any condemnation, if you merely look at it seeing all its facets, all its activities, then you will find that desire has quite a different significance. The desire of the mind is entirely different from the desire in which there is no choice. What we are fighting is the desire of the mind - the desire to become something. That is why we follow, that is why we have gurus. All the sacred books lead you to confusion, because you interpret them according to your desire, and therefore you see only the reflection of your own fears and anxieties; you never see the truth. So it is only the mind that is really in a state in which there is no desire, that does not follow, that has no guru. Such a mind is totally empty of all movement; only then, the bliss of the real comes into being. February 24, 1954 BOMBAY 7TH PUBLIC TALK 28TH FEBRUARY 1954 I would like to discuss this evening rather a difficult problem and I hope you will listen with consideration, not for the result, not at the end but from the beginning. I feel that neither the reformer nor the radicalist has the real solution of the problem. Their actions are born out of confusion. Now, most of us are concerned with action; we must do something, we must change the social order radically. Our whole outlook, our whole valuation, is based, is it not?, on the result. The reformer and the radicalist both promise us results. Both are sure of their results; they say, they are not confused beings; and they are clear in their pattern of action and will. Now, I would like to discuss a step which is not action at all. The action we know is born out of choice, out of determination. As we know, as we observe in the world, action is of various forms -acceptance of authority, liquidation, redistribution, decentralisation and so on. But I feel that there is an action which is not action at all nor is it reaction. We know the action of choice, of determination, of result, of an Utopia; but such action is not true action because it leads to conflict, to struggle between man and man. So we have to find out a state from which action springs and which is not the reaction or the result of the action of a reformer or of a radicalist. It seems to me very important to find out whether we are confused or not because the action which comes out of, a confused state is not true action. We all know that we are confused. If we are not confused, then our action would have been true action. But we are not certain. No human being, neither the capitalist nor the Communist, nor the Socialist, is quite clear. But they all want to be clear and the very desire to be clear creates the action of uncertainty, because basically they are all confused. I think that it is an important thing to admit to oneself that one is confused. But one does not admit it. The reformist and the radicalist assert that they know and that they are clear; and therefore their action which is born out of confusion inevitably breeds destruction and uncertainty. Now, most of us know that we are confused, not at one layer of consciousness but right from the conscious to the unconscious layers, but we dare not admit it. If we really try to understand the question of action and if we go into it, not verbally, not intellectually, we would have to admit that we are confused and it is the seeing of this confusion that itself produces an action which is not of the mind. We start all our actions on the assumption that we know. But we only say that we know. Beyond that do we know anything? The reformist and the radicalist say that they know, and they drive others into the pattern of their action, which has really come out of confusion. Any action of a confused mind is bound to be a confused action. I am confused and in that confused state of mind I persuade myself to accept a particular way; but basically, I am confused and out of that confusion I try to create certainty which is essentially a confused certainty. But I give it a name and a pattern and some people follow me. But the fact is, that they and I are all confused. You and I are confused. Our political, social and religious leaders, all are confused. If we can admit that, not merely intellectually or verbally but actually, we will see that the result of all this action is bound to be confused. Each one of us must see, that we are confused basically. But it is very difficult for us to admit that we are confused. Now if we are confused, can we say that we must act? If I am confused and if I see that I am confused, what would happen is, that my confusion would bring about its own action which is uncertainty. I think, it is very important t,o understand this because then action will take care of itself. For the moment, I am not concerned with action. think that relationship must be established between you and me. I do not believe in the action of a reformist or of a radicalist; all that I am concerned with is confusion. Therefore there is humility and there is no assertion. Now let us see what happens to a mind that knows that it is confused. It has no leader because to choose a leader out of confusion is an action of confusion. Obviously, to have a theory, to have a plan, to have a pattern of action born out of confusion is still confusion. Please don't say `What are we to do then'? If you admit that you are confused, it means you know nothing. So it would be futile for you to follow any authority, any book, any leader, or any pattern of action with regard to what is good, what is bad, what is right, or what is wrong. A man who is confused does not know what is right and what is wrong. He has no leader. He knows no authority, no book, on which he can rely because his mind is fundamentally confused. He is not in a state in which he can read a book or follow an authority. I am not mesmerizing you to admit that you are confused. But you have to think for yourselves and see whether you are confused or not; and if so, whether your decision as regards what is right and wrong has any meaning. Now if the whole world is in a state of confusion, you are also confused because you are a part of that world. So if you are really aware that you are confused, then what action would be yours? Your action would be neither the action of a reformer nor that of a radicalist. So what do you do? When there is no choice, when there is no leader, no guide, no following of any authority - because you are aware that the very choosing out of confusion is still confusion - what do you do? What happens to your mind? A man who is confused and knows that he is confused, does not know what to do, because he is uncertain. But our social, political and religious leaders think that if they tell us that they are confused, we might abandon them and therefore nobody is prepared to admit that he is confused. But once we admit that we are confused, our whole pattern would be destroyed. The very confusion of our mind brings an action which is not a reaction of the mind but which is an action of uncertainty; therefore there is no Utopia, no leader, no teacher. In a state of entire confusion you are trying to find out what is true. There are many others who are like you, who are in a state of confusion; and all of you come together. But all of you are in a state of confusion, in a state of uncertainty, and therefore there is little cooperation between you. Now the man who says that he knows, is really not admitting that he is confused. But the man who admits that he is confused and therefore is incapable of knowing anything, is a sincere man. When I say I do not know, in the deepest sense of the word, I admit that I am confused; and therefore there is a state of humility. I do not become humble, but there is a state of humility, which, itself is an action, and that action is real action. Because I see I am confused, leaders have no significance at all; I will not follow anybody and my mind will be quiet. My mind will no longer be certain; it will be in a state of humility. That which is really humble is in a state of love. This love is not something which can be cultivated. Without this love, life has no meaning. Now most of us are concerned with problems and their solution. But we should always be concerned with the understanding and the resolu- tion of the problem, so as not to create more problems. Our solution of a problem only serves as a root to the problem in the future. You may find a solution of the problem which you have today; but that solution is such that it carries the problem over to tomorrow and gives rise to other problems tomorrow - that is, it is not a real solution at all. Now you have got several problems. You have the problem of death, you have the problem of frustration. If you carry over the problem of frustration into tomorrow, you add strength to it. Please, do understand the significance of all this, and the need not to give root to any of our problems in the future. How can I, how can the mind, not give root to the problem in the tomorrow? Do you understand what I am saying? If you can really grasp this, you will see that there is no problem at all. Today, you have a problem because you have made it a problem for the last few days; and therefore, your mind is never fresh; it is always living in the past which is really dead. But if we really understand and not give a root to our problems in the tomorrow, there would be no problem at all. Question: I am addicted to drink. You say that discipline and self-control will not save me. Can you then tell me how I can be free from the vice of drinking? Krishnamurti: Sir, there are many reasons why one drinks. There is frustration, the constant struggle in life, the struggle between husband and wife, family worries; and you want to escape from all this and therefore you drink. Now the question is how can you stop drinking? Will mere analysis - the analysis of frustration, the analysis of your worries - free you from the habit of drinking? When you know why you have a frustration, when you are aware of it, then that awareness itself, without choice, will act, and the habit will cease. Please see the importance of what I am saying. You know the effects of drinking. Suppose you decide that, because you have seen the implications of drinking, you will drop the habit from tomorrow, then you will be creating a problem for tomorrow. Sometimes it also happens that to drop something you adopt a method; but that very method becomes your habit. So the mind is not really free from habit. Instead of one habit, it cultivates another habit. Even the routine of performing Puja or reading sacred books is a habit. It may be said that it is a good or respectable habit, and some other habit might be said to be an evil habit. But, psychologically, both are habits. If you want to get rid of these habits, you have to go to the root of them. If you really understand that there is no method, no system by which you can drop the habit, then you will see the truth; and that truth will act upon you, you will not have to act upon the truth. Most of us want to act upon the truth; but if we let truth alone to act upon us, then truth will bring about its own action. Question: I am a Hindu, and you ask me to be free from Hinduism. Can I be ever free from Hinduism? Krishnamurti: This is a very complex question. We must go into it very carefully to understand it. Now, you call yourself a Hindu. You have a certain background, there are certain traditions which you follow. You call yourself a Hindu, and therefore you want to follow the traditions of Hinduism. Now if you want to find out the true implications of following, if you want to find out whether following is evil or not, you have to see whether it is really necessary to follow your experience, your traditions and your culture. But in order to see this, you must be absolutely free. Now, when you say that you are a Hindu, what do you mean by that? Can you say that you are a pure Hindu or a pure Aryan? There is no such person because we are a mixture of others' culture also. Most of us have the background of Hinduism with some western conditioning. So we are neither this nor that. But the mind wants to have a root in something. The mind wants to be secure in something and when it feels that it will be secure in Western culture, it gives up the Eastern culture and vice versa. That is exactly what is happening in the case of all of us; really speaking, we are in a state of confusion. It is only when we are totally free from any culture that we shall be able to see clearly. But if we accept one culture, either the Western or the Eastern, then it acts as a poison. If we want to see clearly and to find out the real truth, then there must be complete clearness of the mind; and that can only come when you do not belong to any society. The truth will act upon you only when your mind is absolutely free, and that freedom can only come when you do not belong to any community. That means, when the mind is fearless, when it has no background, no root anywhere, then only can you see what is the Truth. Question: Physically time has no dimension. But you speak of psychological time as different from chronological time. Can you tell me whether time is non-existent or it has existence which is phenomenal. Krishnamurti: This is not a philosophical question, philosophical in the sense of theoretical or verbal. The question implies that time has a phenomenal existence. There is a tomorrow and there was also an yesterday. So time is chronological. That is a fact. But there is a difference between psychological time and chronological time. There is a time which the mind establishes, the time as distance between me and what I shall be, me and the idea, me and death, me and the future, me as mortal and me who would become immortal. There is a wide gap between what I am and what I shall be. We cannot deny phenomenal time. But the time which the mind creates - has it reality? There is what is. I think I should be something else than what I am. There is the distance between what I am and what I shall be according to my desire - to become immortal and so on. In all that, there are two things, `what is' and `what should be'. The moment I introduce the factor of desiring to change, I introduce time. Suppose I am stupid. My being stupid is a fact. But the moment I say I must become clever, I condemn my stupidity and introduce the factor of time. But if I do not condemn the fact that I am stupid, then there is no sense of time. But the moment I decide to become clever, I introduce time. Now my mind is the result of time, and through the mind I am going to achieve what I want to achieve. So my mind is equivalent to time. But there is only one thing which is a fact and that is what I am today. Now let us put it the other way. The mind is the result of the thought of yesterday, of today and what it will be tomorrow. Mind is the result of the thoughts, of the traditions, of the ideas, of centuries of man. The mind is the I. The future is the unknown; and the mind which is the result of the known is trying to get the unknown. Mind can never be free from the past. But if you look into it very closely, if you can really go into it precisely, then the past is burnt away. Then you will see the truth. February 28, 1954 BOMBAY 8TH PUBLIC TALK 3RD MARCH 1954 This is the last talk of this series and there will be no more discussions. Living has so many accidents and the mind gets so many scars. As we grow older, the accumulation of accidents, experiences, the constant battle with life, leaves many scars on the mind. We only know suffering with very little joy, and problems increase; that seems to be the lot of most of us, whatever our capacities are -intellectual, scientific or otherwise. We seem to burden our minds with all kinds of activity, our hearts wither away with the sense of frustration, fear and the everlasting shadow of loneliness. Very few of us are happy, and we never know the feeling of being creative. Having been grooved, it is very difficult to heal the mind again so that it is once again fresh and unspotted. And in the search of this happiness, this feeling, we pursue so many things, we have so many desires unfulfilled and fulfilled. And our society, our culture, our parents, our neighbours, husbands, wives are all the time impinging on the mind, shaping the mind, conditioning the mind, so that we hardly are individuals, though we have a particular name, a special face. If we are lucky, we have a house and a little bank account, and also a few capacities - that is, what we call individuality. But beyond the name and the few little qualities and the little puddles which we call our minds, we are not individuals at all; we are conditioned entities with very little freedom. We think we are free when we choose; but we are not, are we? Where there is choice, there is no freedom because that very choice springs from our conditioned state. We think we have a will of our own, and we exercise that will through choice. But, if you observe, you will see that will is the outcome of innumerable desires, of many forms of frustration, fears; and these frustrations, fears, desires are the outcome of our conditioning, of our background; so when we choose, we are never free. Choice in itself indicates the lack of freedom. A man who is really free has no choice; he is free, not to do this or that, but to be. As long as we have choice, we are really not free and we are not really individuals. It is very important to understand this, because most of us live with choice - choosing a virtue, a person, an action - and choice invariably leads to misery; there is no good choice and bad choice. Only the mind that is free from choice, is capable of perceiving what is true. Truth does not come through choice. Truth does not come with analysis, with the capacity to choose between this and that, right and wrong; on the contrary, all choice is the outcome of our conditioning which is based on fear and acquisitiveness. We, you and I, call ourselves individuals but we are really not individuals at all. It is only when we are free from the background, from our conditioning, that there is real individuality; and that requires a great deal of thought, enquiry. Let us now talk about creativeness which, I think, is essential in this world that is so confused, where the mind is ridden with so many systems, so many methods, where, all the time, the mind is seeking certitude through methods, through action and therefore it is never free to be creative, to understand what that creative reality is. Unfortunately most of us, do not directly experience something true, because we have read so much, listened to so many talks, accumulated so much knowledge; and, having read, we compare. If we can listen not only to what I am saying, but to everything in life, with a deep inward listening, then we will see that freedom comes in spite of all the accidents to the mind, in spite of all our frustrations, in spite of our stupid activity that leads us nowhere. Is it possible for the mind that is gathering so much knowledge, that has had so many experiences of centuries, and wherein every accident leaves a residue which is called memory, to be free of all that, so that it is rejuvenated, it is fresh? I think, the real problem with all of us is to be reborn anew, and not to give room to memory, to tomorrow. I think it is very important to understand this because most of our lives are a series of continuities, broken off and begun again. Our daily life of routine, of earning a livelihood, of doing social activities, of going to political, religious, social meetings, is all the same, continuity in the same direction. There is never a breaking off, because the mind is always afraid to live anew, not knowing a thing, because mind surely is always seeking the certitude of being something. Our problem is we want to be something; every one of us, the saint as well as the sinner, wants to be something; and so we cultivate memory, and so there is no ending; and so there is never real discovery; there are only accidents and the choice of accidents. That is our life. Through all this confusion, through this demand for action, there is always fear. Can we free ourselves from the past and be reborn again with a freshness of mind? Can we live happily, not doing work with intellectual demand, but living fully each day, each minute, with the worship of that minute. If that can be done, life is very simple, because a happy man has no problem. It is the unhappy man, the frustrated man, that seeks action to overcome his frustration. Is it possible for each one of us to wipe away the past, to put an end to it, not through a gradual process, but to cut it off? We have to put this question to ourselves and leave it at that. If you say `How am I to do it'? then you have already destroyed it because the `how' perpetuates the memory of yesterday. I think, it is really important to completely live each day so fully, so creatively, so richly, that you have no tomorrow. After all, that is life, is it not? Love knows no tomorrow. Love is not of the mind. As we have only cultivated the mind, we do not know how to love; and the continuity which we give to memory precludes every form of love; and that is one of our difficulties. We only know unhappiness, sorrow, and frustration; and from that, there is action, which creates further misery, further suffering; so surely there must be freedom from the known for the unknown to be. The known is the mind and the ways of the mind. Mind can only reason, and reason is the outcome of memory, of the known. Reason cannot lead to the unknown, do what you will, whether you practise forgiveness, sacrifices, rituals, meditation. As long as the mind has its roots in the known, the unknown can never be. So, our problem is really to free the mind from the known. The mind cannot free itself from the known because the mind itself is the known, it is the result of time. So what is the problem? You understand the question? My mind is the result of the known; my mind can only function in the known; and my problem is how can the mind which is the result of time, cease? How can thought come to an end? Thinking is the result or the reaction of the known, of yesterday, of all the accumulations, of the wounds, of the accidents, of frustrations, fears. How can such thinking come to an end? The mind cannot bring it to an end. Mind cannot say `I will put an end to thinking', then, thinking is separate from the entity which says: `I will put an end to it.' The entity that desires an ending, is the product of thought. Please listen to the extraordinary mystery of something which the mind cannot fathom. There is the astonishing mystery of the unknown; and without letting that operate, our life has no meaning. You may be very clever, you may have the most astonishing mind; but, without realization, without that unknown coming into being, life has no meaning. All that we can know is suffering and the dangers of frustrations. So, if we can see that the mind can never find the unknown; that without the unknown, life has no significance at all, life is a travail, life is sorrow, life is pain; and that the mind cannot do anything because any movement of the mind is the outcome of the known, is the movement of the known -if the mind realizes that - then the mind becomes quiet. The realization that any movement of the mind is the outcome of the known, is meditation. There must be meditation in life - not the orthodox, stupid meditation; that is no meditation at all, that is merely self-hypnosis - to be aware of this whole process of living of choice how choice does not bring freedom, how choice denies freedom because choice is the outcome of the background. The freeing of the mind from the background, the freeing of the mind from all conditioning is real freeing. The mind freeing itself from the desire to be something, that process, is meditation. In that, there is the freeing of the mind from the known; then the mind becomes quiet. Now this quietness, this stillness of the mind, is not a thing which can be experienced or known without unconditioning the mind. It is not a thing to be sought after; if you do, that is merely another form of self-hypnotism, an illusion, it has no reality. If the mind can free itself from its conditioning, from its desires, from all the disciplines, patterns, accidents, then, there is freeing of the mind from the past. Out of that freedom, there comes silence, a quietness of the mind. That stillness cannot be made, but it happens when the mind is free. It is the stillness of great movement in which there is no meaning; in that stillness, there is no search of anything, because it is not the outcome of any frustration, of any hope, of any desire. That which is in great movement, great speed, great action, is still. Then only, out of that stillness, does that mystery of creativity come into being, that truth which is not measurable by the mind; and without that, life can only mean more sorrow, more mischief, more frustration. We are unhappy human beings and we want to escape from that unhappiness into every kind of activity; we are lonely entities, and we want to fill that loneliness with knowledge, with action, with amusement, with scriptures; but that emptiness cannot be filled, it can only be resolved when the mind realizes that in itself it is lonely, and does not try to cover it up or to run away. One must go through that loneliness in order to be still; then surely the creativity of truth comes into being. This is not a matter of being continuously earnest. Anything that is continuous is merely a determined mind, a mind that says `I will be.' Therefore it perpetuates the memory of itself. But in moments of seriousness, which may last half an hour - that is enough - in that moment there is the awareness without choice, the awareness to see oneself as in a mirror without any distortion, the thing `as is.' That very awareness of the fact brings about liberation, - freedom. But when, in that mirror of awareness, you see yourself as you are, you condemn, you want to change the image, you want to reshape it, you want to give it a particular name; and therefore you give it a continuity. But, if you be simply aware of the image in that mirror of awareness, then you will see, in that awareness, there is an ending of everything that has been; and that awareness brings freedom, a quietness of the mind in which there is bliss. What is important is not to give root to a problem. We have problems, they are there. Every accident is a problem; but not to give it a future, not to give it the minute in which it can take root, that is the problem - not that which we carry in our minds. The more the mind thinks of a problem, the more it gives soil in which the problem can take root. Do think, do watch, do listen to this, Sirs. The problem is not how to solve a problem but how not to give the problem that I have, a continuity. It is the continuity that creates the problem, not the problem of yesterday. If I know, if I see the truth of that, then I will deal with the problem entirely differently; I will end the problem in myself as it arises, not giving it root - which is, not to enjoy, not to condemn; which means, really to have that astonishing quality of humility. A petty mind has always a problem; the little mind is always occupied, and this occupation goes on, day after day. The petty mind can never solve the problem, because, whatever it solves, however much it thinks about the problem, it is still petty, small, confused. All that the petty mind can do is not to give the problem a future. If the mind has a problem and does not give it a future, it is no longer petty because it is not occupied; it is the occupied mind that is small. The occupied mind is like a river that receives everything, all the sewage of the town, dead bodies, the good and the bad; and because it is in constant movement, it is no longer a puddle, it is a living stream, everything is living in it, and it is not dead. So the mind that has a problem and is occupied, can never understand its own problem; all that it can do is to put an end to its continuity, and not to give the problem soil in the tomorrow of its memory. All this may sound very difficult; but it is not, if you really observe how your mind likes to continue with a problem, day after day. Your mind is occupied with something - with what the neighbour says, or what the book says, or what the purpose of life is - everlastingly making its own grooves. An occupied mind is a small mind, and the small mind will always have problems. Question: I feel that it is not enough for people to hear you. In order to understand what you are saying, people have to be nurtured and educated by a careful study and explanation of your teachings and through books about your teachings, and by the organizations of study groups. Only then will people understand you better. Please tell me if I am right? Krishnamurti: In this question is involved, is it not?, the mediator, the interpreter, the priest - `I understand, but the others do not understand.' `I understand a little and I must share that little' - which is entirely different. So let us enquire into this whole question. Who creates the interpreter, the mediator? You. If you understand something directly, you don't need the interpreter, the mediator, the priest. But, if I do not understand I look to somebody else to explain, and he will explain according to his conditioning, according to his aptitude. So, I create the interpreter, the mediator, the priest, the sub-teacher. I am lazy, I am not aware of myself -which is so simple; you don't have to read books about that, it is so clear. To be aware of yourself in all the things that you do, to watch yourself - not according to some pattern, that is not watching, but merely to watch yourself - talking at dinner, at table, in your office; just watching and seeing how you condemn, how you compare, how cruel you are - just to watch it all, to watch choicelessly: that does not need interpreters, mediators. Just to know what is happening to your mind, to know for yourself how your mind operates - not according to somebody else - that is not difficult; you don't need interpreters mediators, for that. But you need interpreters, mediators, if you are frightened, if you don't know yourself and if therefore you look to somebody. Sir, following is evil, all following is evil. There is no good following and bad following; whether you follow politically, religiously, or whether you follow your own experiences or ideals, all following is evil, because it creates authority, it creates the follower. The mentality that says: `I do not know, but you know; so tell me, give me a safe seat in heaven' creates the mediators, interpreters, the priests, who are going to act and save us. The political leaders, priests, commissars, or the poor Catholic priests are all the same, because the followers say `We do not know'. Please listen though you may have heard this many times, listen as though for the first time. If you listen to this as though you were hearing this for the first time, it will have meaning, it will have depth. But you say, `I have heard this hundreds and thousands of times because I have grown with you for the last twenty five years and I know what you are going to say', you are not experiencing directly the thing that is being said, and therefore your mere listening to the words has no meaning. As long as the mind seeks certitude, you must have interpreters; and a mind that is seeking certitude is never free, it is always frightened; the very demand to be certain about something - an ideal, a relationship, a truth to be made certain - implies that you must have a mediator, somebody who is going to help you. But if what you have heard is truth to you - not according to somebody, but is really truth to you - then you will talk rightly, you will dance rightly, you will live, you will love, you will create; then you have not to create authority, then you have no following, then you don't belong to any society. But the difficulty with most of us is that we are so uncertain and confused in ourselves that we want help; but the help we want is the help that a blind man can give to another blind man. But there is help which comes when I know that I am confused, uncertain, and remain in that state. To know I am uncertain, to know I am confused, to know that I do not know a thing, that very state is a state of humility, is it not?, a profound sense of humility, which creates its own action. A man who is nothing - he does not intellectually say he is nothing, but knows it inwardly, he is aware that in the state of uncertainty he can be nothing - does not want an interpreter. Please beware of interpreters, guard against interpreters. The interpreters can only give you certainty, he cannot give you freedom. Freedom comes only amidst the total awareness of the whole process of living. Question: You say that one must die to be reborn, that in the ending there is beginning. But to us, all ending is suffering, whether it is ending of life or of a happy and rich experience. How then can I see the truth of the ending you talk about? Krishnamurti: Sir do you see the truth of what I am talking about? All that you see is the fact that, that which has continuity, that which goes on through time, is always in sorrow. That is all you know, is it not?, with occasional rare moment of delight, a joy, but otherwise all that you know is sorrow. Sorrow comes with all the innumerable aptitudes of the `I', or `the me' of the `ego'. You have to see you have to realize that that which continues psycho, logically, inwardly, brings sorrow. Sir, don't you know that that which has an ending, has always a freshness, a beginning? If I do not end my thoughts of today, complete them, finish them today, I carry those thoughts over to tomorrow; and in that, there is no freshness, no newness; the mind becomes dead. But if I simply see that fact, that is enough. The very perception the very awareness of that fact without any choice, without any condemnation, is the ending in which there is a newness. But we do not want the new, we do not want to be reborn. All that we want is to be made certain. After all, what we want is permanency, a continuity for us with the indications of the permanent - a permanent house, a permanent relationship, a permanent name, a permanent family, a continuity of activity, success - that is all we want. We do not want a revolution, we do not want to die each day to everything, we want to perpetuate memory; that is why we practise, we discipline, we resist, because the mind abhors a state of uncertainty. Sir, it is only the uncertain mind that can discover, not a certain mind. It is only the mind that knows that it is confused and, in that confusion, is quiet, that can discover. But the mind that is certain, that has continuity, that is a series of memories - everlasting - such a mind can never discover truth. So it is only the mind that comes to an end each day, that can find truth each day. Truth is something to be discovered from moment to moment, truth has no continuity in terms of time. That which continues is in a state of permanency which the mind can recognise; so the mind which has continuity, which has association which is the process of recognition, such a mind can never find what is real. It is only the mind that sees the fallacy of all this and there- fore choicelessly comes to an end, that can be creative; only such a mind can receive the creativity of truth. Question: What is the relationship between me and my mind? Krishnamurti: Now Sirs, let us go into this so that you and I directly experience what is being said. It is a process of meditation and without meditation there is no wisdom. Wisdom comes into being through self-knowledge. When I know myself as I am - not according to what other teachers have said or what anybody else has said - when I know what I am from moment to moment, that is self-knowledge; and that self-knowledge can only come into being through meditation. Meditation is to be aware of all the conflicts, in the mirror of my activities, of my relationships, of my states. So let us enquire into this question, the relationship between me and the mind. Is the mind different from the me? Am I different, is the observer, the thinker different, from the thought? You understand, Sirs? I say, `I think.' Is thinking different from the entity who says, `I am thinking'? We say that the two are separate, that `the me' thinks it is different from the thought. We assume that the me comes first; the ego, the Self is the thinker; that is the first, then the thought, the mind. So we have broken up the me and the mind. But is that a fact? You may break it up; but, in reality, is the me, the thinker, different from consciousness which says, which thinks, which exists? Can you remove the qualities of the diamond and say that what remains is the diamond? The me has various qualities, various memories, various activities, hopes, fears, frustrations which are all of the mind, are they not? Remove all your qualities; then, is there `you'? The mind is the me. The mind thinks there is the higher Self, the Atman, Paramatman, higher and higher; it is still what the mind projects; the mind has separated itself as the me and the thought. After all, what is the mind? The mind is surely the conscious as well as the unconscious. The sea is not just the surface of the water which you see in the sunshine, sparkling, living; it is the whole depth that makes the Sea. Similarly, our mind is the whole content, whether we are conscious of it or not. The mind is so occupied, so taken up with activities, problems, that it never begins to question, to enquire, to find out, to fish in the unconscious. We know what is the unconscious; it is very simple. Our motives, our accumulated knowledge, the collection of experiences, fears, hopes, longings, frustrations - all that is our consciousness; the desire for God and the creation of Gods - all that is consciousness. So to divide the me and the mind has no reality. Please see this, realize this. The whole of this consciousness is the me - the me that has a job; the me that has a wife, the husband; the me that is ambitious, envious, acquisitive; the me that values; the me that has a tradition; the me that wants to find reality, God; the me that is petty, acquisitive - all that is the mind, all that is consciousness. That consciousness, you may push far up and call it Atman, Parmatman, or whatever you like; but it is still a product of time, it is still consciousness. Now, with that consciousness, you want to find something which is beyond the mind itself; but you can never find that. You may have occasional quietness when the whole consciousness right up to the bottom is still, and you may dream of something unimaginable, immeasurable, because in sleep your mind, your consciousness, may perchance occasionally be quiet. But when you are aware of all this pro- cess choicelessly this pattern of consciousness is broken and then you will see there is real stillness in the totality of your consciousness. That is something far beyond the measure of the mind. But to pursue what is beyond the measure of the mind has no meaning. What I say or what some one else says has no meaning. What has meaning is to be completely aware of this consciousness and of all its many layers. This awareness cannot be learnt through any analysis; one knows the whole thing if one is observant. To know the whole process of the mind - all its inclinations, motives, purposes, its talents, its demands, its fears, its frustrations, its success - to know all that is to be quiet and not let that act. Then only that something which is beyond the mind, can come into being. That can only come when there is no invitation; that can only come when you are not seeking. Because our search is born out of frustration, the mind that seeks can never find. It is only the mind that understands the total process, that can receive the blessings of the real. March 3, 1954 NEW YORK 1ST PUBLIC TALK 22ND MAY 1954 I think it is important that each one of us should not merely listen to the words that are being spoken, but should actually experience the things we are talking about as we go along; and it seems to me that the words should convey their significance without resistance. Most of us listen to a talk and go away without directly experiencing what is being said, and it would be a great pity if you merely listened without experiencing. But if we can really experience what is being said, then perhaps the essential change will come about which is so obviously necessary at the present time of crisis throughout the world. I do not believe in ideas, because ideas can be met with other ideas, and mere argumentation, refutation, or acceptance takes place. Merely to listen to ideas, to accumulate new forms of knowledge, or to acquire a particular technical capacity - all those things are really of no avail to meet life. What is necessary, it seems to me, is to be able to live in this mad, confused world with surety, with clarity and simplicity, meeting life as it arises without a thought of tomorrow. That is a very difficult thing to do, because most of us live in ideas - ideas being knowledge, experience, or tradition. To us, ideas are very important, they guide our life, they shape our thinking and our future action, and so we never live a complete life, but are always overshadowed by the past. Surely, what is important is not a change which is merely a continuity of what has been in a different form, but a total revolution in our thinking, which means letting go of the things that we have known and being in a state of the unknown. It seems to me that most of us are utterly confused, and there are so many new ideas, so many influences, so many experiences, so many teachers, each telling us what we should do, what pattern of life, what philosophy, what teaching we should follow; or if these fail, we go back to the old, to the traditional. From among all these confusing and contradictory influences and ideas we are forced to choose what we think is the truth and follow it; but in the very process of following what we consider to be the truth, there is also confusion. If we consider our lives closely and fairly seriously, we will see that we are confused. I think it is very important to start from there, and not to seek clarity. A confused mind can never find clarity, because whatever it finds will still be confused. I think it is very important to understand that. After all, you and I are trying to find out what is true, and the discovery of that may bring about a revolution, a liberation in our thinking, in our being; but that discovery, that liberation cannot take place until we know what we actually are - not what we would like to be, but actually what is. And it is very difficult for most of us to accept what is, to see what we actually are. We would like to change what we are, and with that desire, with that impulse, we approach the state of what we are. So, we never see what we actually are. I think that is the real basis of uncovering or discovering what is true: to know exactly what we are, to know actually what is, without any modification, without judging, without trying to alter or shape it. What is is not a permanent state, it is a constant movement, because we are never the same from moment to moment, and to find out what is true it is essential to see what we are from moment to moment. So, it is important to see what we are, is it not? And if we look we will see that we are confused human beings. We are unhappy. We are caught in innumerable beliefs, experiences. We are always seeking some authority to point out the right direction, the right action that will lead us to some future hope, to some happiness, to some tranquillity. Being confused, the very search to find reality, to find truth, to find happiness, to find clarity, will only lead to further confusion. That is an obvious psychological fact, is it not? If my mind is confused, whatever action, whatever decision, whatever book, whatever teacher I may follow, or whatever discipline I may impose upon myself, will still be within the field of confusion. That is very difficult for most of us to accept. Being confused we think, "If I can only find the right teacher, the right method, the right discipline, if I can only understand, it will help me to evolve, to grow, to change, to transform." But a confused mind, whatever its action, must always be confused. Whatever decision it may take will still be within the field of confusion. As that state of confusion is the reality, the actual fact, I think we ought not merely to see it intellectually or verbally, but to actually experience the state of confusion and proceed from there, observing the whole process of how the mind, being confused, seeks help. After all, that is why most of you are here, is it not? Most of you are here to be told, to be encouraged, or to be confirmed in your own particular experiences. You want to be helped. Other teachers, other books, other philosophies may have failed, so you turn to a new person; but the mind that is seeking is still the confused mind, and a confused mind can never understand what is put in front of it. It will translate what it sees according to its idiosyncrasies, its particular pattern of thought, or its own experiences. Therefore it is incapable of seeing truly. So, if I may suggest, it is very important to know how to listen. Our minds are incapable of listening as long as they are translating, justifying, condemning, accepting or rejecting something. Surely, any such activity is not listening. If you observe your own mind -and I hope you will, during the talks that are to take place here -you will see how difficult it is to listen. Your knowledge, your experiences, your prejudices, your fears for the American Way of Life, your fear of communism, and so on - all that is preventing you from listening not only to what I am saying, but to everything in life. What is important is that you should listen in the right way, not only to me, but to everything, because life is everything, and it is in constant movement. if you listen partially, with a particular prejudice or bias, if you listen as a capitalist, as a communist, as a socialist, as a member of any particular religion, or God knows what else, obviously you are only listening to what you want, and therefore there is no liberation, no understanding of the new, there is not the breaking away, the complete revolution which is so essential. Surely, it is only when the mind is in a state of the unknown that there can be the creativity of reality; but a mind that is caught continuously in the field of the known, it is not possible for such a mind to change itself, to bring about its own transformation and thereby find a new significance to life. So, is it not important from the outset that as we are talking we should know how to listen? I think the whole problem is solved if one knows how to listen, not only to what is being said here but to all the hints, the unconscious urges, the influences, to the words of a friend, or your wife or husband, of the politician and the newspaper. If you know how to listen, then that very listening is a complete action in itself. I think it is important to understand this, if I may, labour the point, because I am not giving out new ideas. Ideas are not at all important. One may have new ideas, or you may listen to something which you have not heard before; but what is important is how you listen, not only to ideas, to something new, but to everything, because if you know how to listen, that very act of listening is a liberation. If you really experiment with what I am saying you will discover the truth of it for yourself. A mind that is capable of listening without translation, without interposing its own particular ideas experiences, knowledge, or desires, is surely a tranquil mind, a quiet mind. It is only when the mind is still that the new can take place, the new being the eternal, or whatever name you may like to give to it, which is not important. But, you see, most of us have innumerable ideas, desires and longings, and so there is never a moment when the mind is really still. So, it seems to me, what matters in all these talks - which are going to take place here this weekend and next weekend - is to know the art of listening, and you can be aware of that art only in observing your own reactions to what is being said; because you will have reactions, you are bound to have them. The mind must be aware of its reactions and yet be capable of going beyond those reactions, so that they do not impede further discovery. Being confused, most of us want to find a way out of that confusion. We turn to books, we turn to leaders, we seek political or religious authority, or the authority of a specialist of some kind, to help us clarify our own thinking. Is that not what each one of us is trying to do? We want to find somebody who will help us out of our confusion, out of our frustrations, out of our misery and turmoil, so we seek authority. But is not that very authority the cause of our confusion? And is it not important to shed all authority? After all, the mind seeks authority in different forms in order to be sure. That is what we want: to find a refuge where we can be safe, where we shall not be disturbed, because for most of us thinking is a pain, every action brings its own confusion, its own misery. Knowing that, being aware of it, we seek authority in order to find shelter. It may not be the authority of a person, but it may be the authority of an idea. Please follow all this, do not reject it. You may ask, is not the authority of a policeman, of the government, and so on, essential? But if we understand the whole significance of the creation of authority, how authority is bred in each one of us, then we shall understand the details of authority and be free of authority. Now, the world is being broken up into several authorities, the left and the right, into various political pressure groups, all having the sanction of some book, of some teacher, of some idea. And is it possible for each one of us to find out how to be free from authority of every kind, not only external authority, but the inward authority of experience, of knowledge? Can we find out what is true, not through somebody, but directly for ourselves, so that there are no teachers, no pupils? It seems to me that this is what is necessary, not only now but at all times. As long as the mind is seeking security of any kind, whether in a leader, in a particular way of life, in a particular nationality or group, or in any belief, such a mind can only create confusion in the world and more misery, which is being shown at the present time. So, it is important for each one of us to find out for ourselves what is by shedding all authority, which is extraordinarily difficult; and seeing what is, the very discovery of what is, will be the liberating process. But, you see, most of us are afraid to be naked, completely alone, one avoids standing by oneself to find out for oneself. If that is not understood, I am afraid you will go away from these talks disillusioned and disappointed, because what I am saying is not anything new; but what will be new is your discovery of what is being said. Isn't it important to bring about a different way of thinking? Isn't it important to find out for yourself how to live in this extraordinarily confusing, brutal and aggressive world? And can anyone tell you how to live. or what pattern of action you should adopt, or which leader or group you should follow, or what belief you should hold? All such things seem so utterly infantile when you are confronted with an extraordinary crisis. This crisis has been brought about by the leaders, and it is we who have created the leaders - the leaders being the embodiment of some particular idea or belief, whether religious or economic. So, is it not very important for each one of us to free the mind from all sense of authority? - which really means, if you go into it very deeply, from all sense of knowledge, so that the mind is new, fresh, and can therefore function in a totally different way. You see, we rely so much on knowledge. The man who writes a book about the mind, or speaks about the mind, we accept. We call his thought by some name, and we accept it. We never investigate into the whole process of our own thinking and discover it for ourselves. That is why we have innumerable leaders, each asserting and dominating. And can one put away all that and find out for oneself? Because, you see, knowledge becomes a hindrance to understanding. When you want to build a bridge, for that you must obviously have knowledge, you must have a certain technical capacity. But can one have knowledge of a living thing - that is, the understanding of it beforehand? That which you call "me", the self, is a living thing, and you cannot have previous knowledge about it. You may have experiences concerning it, or the information of what others have said about it, but when you approach yourself with previous knowledge, you never discover what you actually are. If you are religiously inclined, you say, "I am the eternal I am a son of God" and so on; and if you are not, you assert that the self, the "I", is merely the result of environmental nature. So, we approach everything with knowledge, with conclusions which have already been made, and with these patterns of thought we go through life; therefore knowledge becomes a hindrance in the discovery of truth. If I want to know the truth about myself, surely I must discover myself every minute as I am, not as I have been or as I should be. Please listen to this, because more and more books are being written, more and more lectures are being given, everything - the radio, the television, the newspapers, the speeches, the politicians, the teachers - everything is conditioning you, shaping you to a certain pattern, and with this conditioning you are trying to find out what is true. Conditioning is knowledge, tradition, it is what has been, the past, both the past of yesterday and of a thousand years ago. That is our mind, and with that mind we try to find out what is true. Surely, to find out what is true there must be freedom from conditioning, the conditioning as an American or as a Russian, as a Catholic or a Protestant, as an artist or a poet; there must be freedom from the conditioning of a particular capacity, because identification with capacity gives pride. So, a mind that is to find out what is true must be free of knowledge. But if you observe you will see how your mind is constantly gathering knowledge, storing it away; every experience becomes a further strengthening of knowledge. Our minds are never free to be still because they are too crowded with information. We know far too much, and really about nothing and through this immense weight we are trying to be free. But you see, we are unconscious of all this; and if we are made conscious of it, we resist, because we say that knowledge is essential to liberation. Surely, knowledge is an impediment, a hindrance to the discovery of what is true. Truth must be something that is living, it must be totally new each second, and how can a mind that has accumulated knowledge, information, ever find out what is the unknown? Call it God truth by whatever name you like, it is not to be sought after, because if you seek it, you already know it, and knowing it is the denial of it. Please listen to all this. All religions are based on the idea of knowing, experiencing, believing, and so from childhood we are conditioned to believe. We already know, and we worship that which we already know. We are always frightened of the unknown. The unknown may be death, the unknown may be tomorrow. A mind that is living with the known can never be in a state of revolution, it can never bring about that state when truth can come into it. Our particular job, then, is not to seek God or truth, because when we seek it we have already destroyed it. What we seek is what we want, it is something gratifying, satisfying - which means, really, the projection of our own desires into the future. We project our own past into the tomorrow, and worship the past in the tomorrow. If you would really understand this, listen to it without making an effort to free the mind from the past; merely listen to it, see how the mind is the result of the past, not only the conscious mind, but also the unconscious mind, the mind which functions whether we are awake or asleep. The many layers of the unconscious, the hidden fears, the impulses, the motives, the hindrances - all that is the result of the past, as well as the conscious mind which is struggling with the immediate. In listening to all this, if one makes an effort, it is still a result of the known. After all, most of us live through the action of will, do we not? To us, will is very important, that is, will to be or to become. The will to become, to be, is the action of the known, is it not? Therefore the action of will can never find what is real. Just see the fact that all knowledge, all experience, only strengthens the will, the known, the "me", the self, and that such a will, such a "me" can never perceive clearly what is true, can never find God, however much it may try, because its God is the known. It is only when the mind is in a state of the unknown, when the mind itself is the unknown, only then is there a possibility of creativity, which is truth. What we are talking about is not conformity to any particular pattern of thought, the acceptance of any particular belief, or the joining of any particular group, but a total revolution which can come about only when the mind is totally still. It comes when one understands the ways of the self. With self-knowledge alone comes true stillness of the mind. Without self-knowledge, stillness of the mind is merely a deception, a convenience, a thing put together by the mind for its own security, and in such a stillness the mind is not capable of perceiving, of realizing or receiving the unknown. So, as we shall be discussing these things during the coming talks, what is important at all times is to know how to listen, and you cannot listen if there is an argumentation going on between you and me. If you belong to any society, to any group, to any religion, if you accept any belief, you are incapable of listening, because your mind is already conditioned. A conditioned mind cannot listen; it is not free to listen. But if one can listen totally, then I think a fundamental change, a fundamental revolution will take place which is not brought about by an action of the "me", and therefore it will be a true transformation. That is the only problem we have: how to bring about a complete change in ourselves, not mere adjustment to a particular society, which is infantile. It is immature to desire to adjust oneself to a particular society, because the society is created by environmental influences, by our own reactions and relationships, and merely to adjust oneself to a particular pattern of society is not freedom. What is necessary, it seems to me, is this fundamental transformation that comes about through no volition, no authority, but only when we understand the total process of our own being. To know ourselves as we are, to see ourselves clearly as we see our faces in the mirror, without any distortion, is the beginning of truth. That requires a great deal of awareness, an awareness in which there is no choice. The moment you choose, you are already acting according to your conditioning. But to know that you are acting according to your conditioning, and to see the truth of it, is already the beginning of that awareness in which there is no choice. All this one can observe in oneself. You don't have to go to any philosopher, to any teacher, or belong to any group. Your various groups are limiting, confusing, contradicting each other, they create animosity though they talk of brotherhood. If one knows, that truth cannot be found through any person, through any book, through any religion, that reality comes into being only when the mind is utterly still, that stillness can come only with self-knowledge, and that self-knowledge cannot be given to one by another but has to be discovered for oneself from moment to moment - then, surely, there comes a tranquillity of mind which is not death, a peace which is really creative, and it is only then that the eternal can come into being. May 22, 1954 NEW YORK 2ND PUBLIC TALK 23RD MAY 1954 As I was saying yesterday, I think it is important not merely to listen to what I am saying, but rather to experience the thing that is being said, because this is not an ordinary lecture from which you are going to learn something. If you merely listen in order to learn, I am afraid you will be disappointed; but if you listen in order to discover for yourself, then you will find astonishing results. Unfortunately, most of us are so conditioned, our thinking is so obstructed with unknown fears and anxieties, that we are incapable of really experiencing directly, and therefore we miss the deeper significance of what is being said. Words have a limited significance, they are only symbols, and I feel it is important to go beyond the symbol; but most of us worship symbols, and we are blocked, we are hindered by merely accepting certain verbal definitions and living within those definitions. So, may I again suggest that in listening to what is being said you relate it to yourself, directly experiencing it rather than merely following the description. I feel that as long as the world is broken up into innumerable nationalities, as long as it is divided by many faiths, many beliefs and dogmas, there can be no peace at all. There can be peace only when all nationalism ceases, when all beliefs which divide man come to an end; and that can happen only when the mind is free from all conditioning when the mind no longer thinks in terms of America or of Russia, when it no longer thinks as a communist, a socialist, or a capitalist, as a Catholic, a Protestant, or a Hindu. We can deal with the many problems that arise only when we approach them as human beings, that is, when we are not conditioned in any of these patterns which have been cultivated for generations; and it is very arduous, really difficult to break down the enclosures that the mind has built around itself. So, I would like to talk about it, go into the matter; and if you, on your part, will take the journey, not merely following what I am talking about, but seeing the actual state of your own mind as we go along, then I think listening to a talk of this kind will have significance. As I said yesterday, the very act of listening breaks down the barrier, the conditioning, because to listen implies no resistance. I am obviously not asking you to join anything, to believe anything, or to accept anything, but to investigate your own mind, the mind that is functioning daily; and also, perhaps, to look into the unconscious. It is impossible to be aware of the total process of our being as long as we are not aware of our own conditioning; and if we are to survive in this mad, chaotic world, surely it is imperative that each one of us who is at all earnest and thoughtful should consider this problem of freeing the mind from its conditioning. This does not mean the cultivation of a better conditioning, but freedom from all conditioning. Each one of us is conditioned by the climate, by the food we eat, and by other physiological influences. Those we know how to deal with. But of the deeper conditioning of the psyche, the inward, very few of us are aware, and it is that which dictates, controls and shapes our actions. If we are to have peace in the world, we can no longer belong to any particular nationality or religion, because it is this very division of nationalities, of groups, of religious faiths, that is destroying us; and unless we are alert to this whole problem, it will bring still greater misery. Surely, if you are thoughtful, if you are alert to the problem, you will see that we have to begin by inquiring whether the mind can free itself from all conditioning. Those who are important people in the world, who have great wealth, who have position, prestige, will naturally not experiment with this at all, because it is too dangerous. It is only the ordinary people, those who have no power no position, and who are struggling, trying to understand - it is they, perhaps, who will begin to experiment and find out for themselves. As most of us are unconscious of our conditioning, is it not first of all essential to be aware of it? Each one of us is conditioned as a Christian, or as belonging to some other group with certain ideas, with certain beliefs and dogmas which are contrary to other beliefs, to other ideas and dogmas. Obviously, then, these very beliefs and dogmas create enmity between man and man, do they not? And, realizing that beliefs do create enmity and maintain this division between man and man, why do we cling to certain beliefs and try to have others join our particular group? So is it not important to ask ourselves whether it is possible for the mind to free itself from all conditioning? Is it possible not to belong to any group, to any religion? - which does not mean entering some other conditioned state, becoming an atheist, a communist, or something else. To be free from all conditioning is not to seek a better conditioning. I think that is the real crux of the matter, because it is only when the mind is unconditioned that it can tackle the problem of living as a total process, and not just on one sectionalized level of our existence. Can you and I be aware of our conditioning? Is it possible to be free of it? And will any action of the will bring about that freedom? Do you understand the problem? I realize that I am conditioned as a Hindu, or what you will, and I see the effects of that conditioning in my relationship with others, which is really a relationship of resistance, creating its own problems. I realize that. And can I, realizing it, break down that conditioning by an act of will, by saying to myself that I must not be conditioned, that I must think differently, that I must consider human beings as a whole, and so on? Can the conditioning be broken down through any action of the will? After all, what is it that we call the will? What is the will? Is it not the process of desire centred in the "me" that wants to achieve a result? Please, this is not a highbrow talk. If we can think simply about the matter, we shall find the right solution to the problem; but it is very difficult to think simply because within ourselves we are so complex. We have so many ideas, we have read so much, so many things have been told us, and amidst this complexity it is very difficult to think directly and simply; but that is what we are trying to do. I see I am conditioned, and I want to know how to break it down, because that conditioning prevents me from thinking clearly. It prevents a direct relationship with people. It creates resistance, and resistance creates its own problems. So seeing the whole implication of the effects of conditioning, how is my mind to free itself from conditioning? Do you understand the problem? Is the entity that desires to free the mind from conditioning, different from the mind itself? If it is different, then the problem of effort, the action of will, comes into being. Is the "I", the thinker, the person who says, "I am conditioned and I must be free", the "I" who makes an effort to be free, is that "I", that will, that desire, different from the conditioned state? Please, this is not complicated. You are bound to ask yourself this question when you look at the problem. Am I who wish to free myself from conditioning, different from the conditioning, or are they both the same? If they are the same, which they are, then how is it possible for the mind to free itself from conditioning? Do you understand? I realize I am conditioned as a Hindu, with all its implications: the superstitions, the information, the experiences of a Hindu. My mind is conditioned in that way. Let us take that as an example. Now, I see the importance of freeing the mind from conditioning. How is that to be done? Does freedom come through an action of will? If I say, "I must free myself from the conditioning of the past", then the "I" who wishes to free himself from the past conditioning is different from it; but is that "I" different from conditioning, or is it still a conditioned result? And if that "I", which is the will, is not different, then in trying to break down conditioning, it is only finding a substitute for the previous conditioning. Please, as I said, what is important is for you to listen and experiment. Perhaps this is something which you have not heard before, therefore you are puzzled, there is a resistance; but if you can listen without any resistance, merely observing your mind in action, then the very listening becomes an experiment. Your own mind is conditioned, and it is this conditioning that is really preventing peace, that is creating war, destruction and misery. Unless you resolve your conditioning completely, there will be no real peace in the world; there will be the peace of politicians between two immense powers, which is terror. To have peace, the mind must be totally unconditioned. One must realize that, but not superficially, not as insurance for your security, or for your bank account. Peace is a state of mind, it is not the development of monstrous means of destroying each other and then maintaining peace through terror. I do not mean that. To have real peace in the world is to be able to live happily, creatively, without any sense of fear, without being secure in any thought, in any particular way of life. To have such peace, surely the mind must be totally free from all conditioning, either externally imposed or inwardly cultivated. And can your mind, which is conditioned - because all minds are conditioned - , can such a mind free itself from its own effects, from its own desires, from its own conditioned state? So, the problem is, is there a part of the mind which is not conditioned and which can take over, control, or destroy the conditioned mind? Or is the mind totally conditioned at all times, and therefore cannot act upon itself? When it realizes that it cannot act upon itself, will not the mind then be utterly still, without movement towards its own conditioning? For most of us this implies freedom from something. Freedom from something is resistance against something, and therefore it is not freedom. I am talking, not of freedom from something, but of being free. Being free is not becoming free, being peaceful is not becoming peaceful. There is no gradual process towards freedom, towards peace. Either you are peaceful, or you are not peaceful; and what we are trying to find out is whether the mind which has been conditioned for centuries, generation upon generation, whether such a mind can free itself. Surely, it can be free only when there is no action of will, when it realizes that it is conditioned and does not make any effort to free itself from its own conditioning. When my mind knows that its way of thinking is oriental, whatever that may mean, when it fully realizes that, will it then think along the western line, which is another form of conditioning, or will it cease thinking in any particular pattern and therefore be free to think? You see, I feel this is a very important point to understand, it is the crux of the matter, because a conditioned mind can never find out what is true, a conditioned mind can never discover what God is. It can project its own images, its own dogmas, its own beliefs, and think it has found God, but that is still the action of a limited, conditioned mind. And if I see that, if I perceive it as a fact, will any action on my part be necessary? If I know I am blind, then I have quite a different approach to life, I develop a totally different perception. In the same way, when I know that I am conditioned, that my thinking is limited, and that a limited mind, whatever its experiences may be, however much knowledge it may acquire, is still limited; when I realize that, is any action on my part necessary to break down that limitation? Will not that limitation break down of itself when I know the mind is limited? Therefore, is there not an instantaneous freedom from conditioning? Most of us think that an analytical process will ultimately bring about the freedom of the mind because we are so used to thinking in terms of making effort. We say, "I must break down this conditioning, I must produce a result, I must do something." But the "I" who is acting is itself conditioned, the "I" is the conditioned mind, and therefore it cannot break down that conditioning. Now, when the whole of me realizes that I cannot break down the conditioning, that whatever I do about it - discipline, worship, prayer, anything through which the "me" makes an effort to break down any part of itself - is still limited, then does not the action of the "me" come to an end? And the very ending of this effort is the cessation of conditioning. Please, you experiment with this. If you have listened rightly, you will see that the mind cannot do a thing about its conditioning. It can explore, it can analyze, it can achieve certain results, but it is always limited. Whatever its projections, its hopes, its fulfilments, they are always the result of its own background, and therefore limited; and when the mind realizes that, is there not an instantaneous cessation, without any compulsion, of this "I" which is seeking searching hoping gaining and thereby being frustrated? After all, that is meditation, which is really not through any action of will; it is the meditation of the mind, which is tranquillity. A mind that is merely caught in desires, in achieving a result, in knowing, in experiencing can never be a still mind; and when a limited mind meditates, when it thinks of God, its God and its meditation are still petty. It seems to me that however much a mediocre mind may be expanded. however much it may know, it is still mediocre, small petty, and therefore its problems will always remain petty, unsolvable. So, what is important is to realize all this, not merely through hearing what I am saying, but through seeing it for yourself, experiencing directly for yourself that your mind is small, limited, and being limited however much it may know, whatever experiences it may have, it is still limited, and therefore it can never find out what is true, what is real. Reality comes into being only when there is a total cessation of all conditioning, that is, when the mind is free - not from something, but being free - and therefore it is still. I have some questions which I will try to answer - or, rather, not answer, because there are no answers, there are only problems. Please, this is not a witty or a clever remark, but a true thing, because a mind that is seeking an answer to a problem will find an answer according to its own desires. Most of us have problems, and we are always groping for an answer. That is why there are churches, these picture halls. All of us are trying to find somewhere an answer, and we may find it, but it will not be the real thing. What is true is the problem. If there is an understanding of the problem, there is the cessation of the problem, not an answer to the problem. Please, this is important to listen to. It is the petty mind, the shallow mind, that seeks an answer, that wants to know what happens when I die; it has innumerable questions, and all it is concerned with is the answer. But to understand this problem requires an alert mind, a mind that is not seeking a result, an escape, or trying to cover up its own emptiness. So, the solution of the problem is in the problem itself, only I must know how to approach the problem; and I cannot approach it rightly if I desire to solve it, if I wish to find an answer to it, because then my mind is concentrated on the answer and not on the problem. I think it is very important to understand this, which is really a revolution in our way of thinking. You see, we create the problem by our way of thinking, and then try to resolve the problem through further thinking; we begin to question, we go to analysts, to priests, to God knows what else, trying to find an answer. So, we must know how to remain with the problem, to look at it with- out translating it according to our wishes, according to our belief, according to our tradition. It is our tradition, our belief, our dogma that has created the problem, and if we would understand the problem we must be free from all these things and look at it directly. Question: I have always tried to be sincere to my ideals, but you say they are destructive. What have you to offer in their stead? Krishnamurti: There are several things involved in this problem: sincerity, ideals, and if there are no ideals, whether there is something to put in their place. Let us go into the problem slowly and look at it. What do we mean by sincerity? To be sincere to something. If I have an ideal, I try to live according to that ideal; and if I live as much as I can according to that ideal which I have set for myself, I am considered a sincere person. Now, the ideal is the creation of my mind in seeking its own security, is it not? Please follow this, don't resist it. You will go on with your ideals, you will go on with your particular pattern of action, unfortunately, so you don't have to resist what is being said; but you can at least listen to find out. You have an ideal because it gives you comfort. It may be a difficult ideal for you to live up to but the very struggle to live up to that ideal gives you satisfaction, it gives you a sense of conformity, a sense of well-being, a sense of respectability. In essence, the ideal gives you security, and that is why you project these ideals. If I am violent, I do not like that state of violence, so I project the ideal of non-violence and pursue it. The ideal and the pursuance of that ideal give me security, a sense of well-being. I am being sincere to my own desire, I am being sincere to what I want; and such a man, who is pursuing what he wants, you call noble. So, ideals are destructive because they are separative; they are the projection of our own desires; they bring about a conflict between what I am, which is the actuality, and what I should be. The ideal creates a duality between what I am and what I should be, and this struggle between what I am and what I should be is called living according to the ideal. We are afraid not to struggle because, being conditioned to struggle everlastingly between good and bad, between the evil and the noble, we say, "If I do not struggle, what will happen?" If the ideal is taken away we feel completely lost, and the questioner wants to know what can be placed in its stead. To me, the idealist is one who is caught between what is and what should be, and is therefore in a state of hypocrisy; because what should be is not. Why should I turn my attention to what should be? I can only understand what is. If I am violent, can I not resolve my violence rather than try to become non-violent? Instead of pursuing the ideal and thereby creating a conflict between what is and what should be, this conflict of the opposites which creates innumerable problems, can I not look at what is? Instead of projecting the opposite and creating the conflict, can I not look at what I actually am? But that is the very thing we avoid, is it not? Because most of us do not want to know what we actually are. Either we are ashamed of it and we condemn it, or we are afraid of it, or we want to change it into something else. So we never look at what is; and before we can change what is, must we not know its structure, what it is in actuality? And how can I know what it is when I am all the time con- cerned with trying to change it, to rearrange it, to run away from it? We are so afraid of being naked, empty, without a thing. We want to fill our emptiness with something. If I am lonely, I run away from that loneliness, I turn on the radio, read a book, go to church, pray, plunge into social activities, do anything to escape from it; but if I do not escape from it, I am afraid of it. So, fear prevents us from understanding what is, fear makes us carry on various forms of activity which act as an escape from the reality of what is. Therefore, is it not important for each one of us to put away all ideals, since they have no meaning, and see what is actually taking place in us from moment to moment? And if we are aware of ourselves from moment to moment, choicelessly, without condemning, without judging, without yielding to that which we have considered before as fearful, ugly, bad, evil, will it then exist? Fear exists only when we are running away. The very process of running away is fear; and when, without running away, we can look at the thing that we have condemned before, the thing from which we have run away, the thing which we are struggling to change, when we can look at it without doing any of these things, will not the very thing from which we have been trying to escape, cease to exist? If you really go into this question you will see that when a mind is violent, because it has the ideal of non-violence, because it is escaping from the state in which it is, because it wants to alter that state, therefore it is resisting violence. This does not mean that the mind must yield to violence; but when the mind is free from all resistance with regards to violence, does the problem exist at all? Surely, the problem exists because the mind resists. Please, as I said, this thing has to be thought over, or, which is much better, directly experienced; and then you will see that when the mind has no ideal, when it is not trying to become something, there is a state of being in which time is not. For time is the problem. Old age, the sense of frustration, the fear of not achieving, not becoming, not fulfilling - all that involves time, and that is all we know, in that state we live and function, we struggle. So, this conflict between what is and what should be is a neverending process; and when the mind realizes that, then is there not a freedom of being in which there is no becoming? Therefore you don't need any ideal, and I think it is very important to understand this. Surely, this is the real revolution, not the process of creating the antithesis, and then struggling with the antithesis to produce a synthesis. If you can think in these terms, not of becoming, but of being - which is astonishingly difficult and subtle to understand - , then you will find that the many problems which involve time completely cease. Therefore the mind is free to uncover and to find out what is the real, and the blessing of it. May 23, 1954 NEW YORK 3RD PUBLIC TALK 24TH MAY 1954 As I was saying yesterday and the day before, I do not think that ideas fundamentally change our activities, though they may modify them. Ideas play a certain superficial part, but they obviously do not affect the deeper motives, purposes, the things that we really want, they do not bring about a radical transformation or revolution in our attitude towards life. And so it seems to me that what is important is to understand the total process of our thinking, of our consciousness, and perhaps in that very understanding a change can take place, not according to any particular pattern of thought, or according to any desire, but a change from the known into the unknown. When we are confronted, as we are, with an enormous crisis which is probably unprecedented in history, it seems to me that a transformation, a radical revolution is necessary, but not in the political or the economic sense, because I do not think we can meet this crisis with ideas. A totally different process must be born in us in order to meet this crisis, and that birth cannot be brought about by the conscious mind. I would like, if I can, this evening to discuss the problem of what it is that we are seeking, what it is that most of us are groping after in trying to find out how to meet this constant movement of life. Life actually has no resting place, though we try to enclose it by our own conditioned thinking, by our peculiar upbringing as Christians, as Catholics, as Protestants, as Hindus, or what you will. It seems to me that it is very important to listen to this talk, not in order to gather information, knowledge, or more ideas, or in order to refute what is said by cunning arguments, greater information and knowledge, but rather to investigate together the process of our own thinking. And as I am talking, if we can follow together the ways of our own mind, which is really self-knowledge, then perhaps that transformation, that radical change can come into being without volition. Any act of will is conditioned by our experience, by our education, by our social influences, and being conditioned, limited, it cannot bring about this change, however much it may try. And yet that is what we are used to: this constant effort, this constant struggle of ambition, of trying to change, or trying to bring about a reformation. But if we can approach this whole problem of living, this extraordinary crisis, without the action of will, then perhaps we shall be able to bring about a different understanding, a different set of values, values which are not based on nationalism or on any particular religion. To understand this freedom from will, one must understand, follow the movements of one's own thinking, and that process is not to be learned from any book, it does not depend on any psychologist, but one has to discover it anew every day in one's relationship with life. And to discover it, there must surely be the understanding of how the mind is constantly seeking some form of security. That is what most of us want, is it not? We want to be secure in order to have peace. We want to be secure in order to be able to fulfil, to live our beliefs, our morality. The various efforts that we make to achieve, to fulfil, do they not all imply the fundamental demand of the mind to be safe, to have a security in which there will be no disturbance, an experience or a form of knowledge which will be permanent, unchanging? Some kind of permanency is what most of us want; that is what most people are seeking, is it not? There is this urge to find security, security in relationship, security in things, in property, in people; and if it is not found in people or in property, then we turn to ideals, self-projected urges, demands, and there take shelter, either in the idea of God, in a belief, in a dogma, or in virtue. When you look into your own mind closely you will find, I think, this constant demand to be secure. But does peace come with security? Or must one find peace first, which will then bring security? The effort to be something is a form of ambition, because social ambition and so-called spiritual ambition are the same, and as long as there is this constant effort to be something, which brings about the importance of the self, surely there cannot be peace. And yet, if we observe the ways of our thinking, our searching, our beliefs, they all lead to this one constant demand to have some kind of permanence. And when that permanency is disturbed, as it is being disturbed all the time, we develop a resistance which creates innumerable problems. So, is it not important to find out for ourselves if there is such a thing as permanency? The mind, the self, the "me", is constantly demanding, seeking to establish permanency for itself through memory, through experience, through relationship, through the so-called search for reality. The constant urge of the mind is for permanency, and effort is made to maintain this permanency, and so we develop will. The will is essentially the "me", the self, and whether it pursues virtue or denies virtue, or creates various forms of experience for itself, its constant struggle is for permanency, security. Identification with any form of thought, with any idea, or experience, will give this sense of security, of permanency, and that is why we identify ourselves with a nation, with a group of people, with a religion, with knowledge, or with an experience. This constant process of identification with something is all that we know, this constant battle is our life, and our whole culture, all our values are based on it. Now, it seems to me that peace is not the result of this battle. A mind that is ambitious, a mind that is identified with any particular group, nation, class, belief, religion, or dogma, is incapable of having peace, because it is seeking security and thereby emphasizing, strengthening the will of the "me", of the self, which must naturally be an everlasting conflict. So, if one is to see that, not merely as an idea, but actually, as one is listening one must be aware of this process of the mind that is seeking. And what is it that we are seeking? Some kind of fulfilment, is it not? A fulfilment in which there will be some permanency. There is this constant urge to fulfil, to be, to achieve, and after achieving, to further achieve. And a mind which is constantly seeking, struggling, endeavouring to understand, to establish itself in some form of permanence, can such a mind be at peace at any time? And is it not essential that the mind should have complete tranquillity without effort, so that that creative thing which we call God, or what you like, can come into being? You see, what I mean is that all our life is a struggle; and through struggle will we find that thing which we call the real? After all, that is what we all want: a permanent state of bliss, of happiness, call it God, truth, or by whatever name you will. But that is a thing which cannot be imagined by the mind, because the mind is the result of time, and any projection of time, of the mind, is still limited, it is the result of the past, and therefore there is nothing new in it, it is not the real, the creative. Now, can all of that process, - not only the conscious but the unconscious struggle to be, to fulfil, the ambition which has actually created such havoc in the world - can that whole process come to an end so that the mind can be truly peaceful? It is only then that there is a possibility of true security. You see, what is happening in the world is that each individual is identifying himself with a nation, with a group, with a religion, and so creating for himself an artificial permanency, a security as opposed to other nations, a group opposed to other groups, because each one of us wants to be identified with something greater, something nobler, something much more immense than the petty little "me". The State, the belief, the religion, offers an escape from the "me", and through this escape we hope to find a permanent peace. But that permanency is the result of our desire to be secure in some form of identification, and therefore there is a constant battle going on between individuals, between groups, religions and nations. As I was saying yesterday, what is important in listening to what is being said is that you should not merely accept or reject, but actually listen without any form of judgment - which is not to put oneself in a hypnotic state. To listen without judgment is to listen in order to find out, which means listening to the operation of one's own mind, to one's thoughts, so that the mind becomes astonishingly separate and apart. When the mind is still, not artificially made to be still, then you will find that there is a sense of total insecurity in which there is complete security, because there is the absence of the "me", of the self which is constantly battling. That is why it is so very important to have self-knowledge, to know for oneself the many thoughts, the many urges, the ambitions, the frustrations in which one is caught, and be aware of them. When most of us are aware, our awareness consists in judging, condemning, choosing, accepting or denying. That is not awareness, that is merely the action of will upon thought. But if you can observe, be aware without any choice, just see what is happening, then you will find that the whole process of the unconscious, which is hidden, dark, kept underground, will come to the surface through dreams, through hints, through various forms of spontaneous reaction, and as they arise they too can be observed without any sense of condemnation or justification, without acceptance or rejection. Then the mind is not merely an instrument of evaluation, of analysis; and such a mind, being no longer moved by the will of the "me", of the self, with all its conditionings, demands and pursuits, is really still. In that stillness, every thought, every response, every reaction, every movement of the self is turned away, and that, it seems to me, is important if we are to solve any of our problems in life. The understanding of the "me". the understanding of oneself, is not a thing that can be learned immediately, all at once. But to say, "I shall learn it gradually" is again wrong, because it is not through the process of time that one understands. You see, we think understanding comes through accumulation, the accumulation of experience or knowledge. Does understanding come through knowledge, or does understanding come when the mind is no longer burdened by the past? As I say, experiment, think as I am talking, directly experience what I am saying and you will find out for yourself. You may have a problem, and the mind has gone into it, worried over it; but the moment the mind is still, not concerned, as it were, with the problem, then a feeling of understanding comes into being. In the same way, if one can understand the mind, if one can simply be aware of its movements when one is riding in a bus, when one is sitting at a table and talking, the way one talks, the way one gossips; the escapes, the worship, the prayers, then all those things reveal the depth of one's consciousness. Surely, to find that which is eternal, that which is beyond the futile projections of the mind, the mind must come to an end, not artificially, not through any discipline, but through awareness of the process of thinking. So, the mind itself, though capable of the highest reason, in its reason comes to an end; and then only is it possible to have that inward peace which alone can stop these monstrous wars and bring salvation to the world. But the difficulty is that we say, "We are nobodies, we are just ordinary people. What can we do?" I think we all ought to be very thankful that we are people without any power, without any position, without any authority, because those who are in power, who have position or authority, do not want peace. They want political peace, which is entirely different. And I think it depends on us, who are very simple people, though we have a great many conflicts and miseries, though we are in travail -it is for us to start, as it were, in our own backyard to experiment with ourselves, to know the various activities of our mind so that each one of us becomes a centre of real peace, not the phony peace which the armies and governments create between two wars. Without that real peace there will be no security, there will be only fear. Fear is the very nature of the self, for it is the self that is being threatened in different ways continuously, especially in crises; and being frightened, we have no answer, we run away into various forms of escape, or turn to leaders, political or religious. This problem cannot be solved through any leader, through any dogma. No army, no nation, no idea is going to bring peace to the world. When each one of us understands oneself as a total process -not merely the economic problem, or the mass problem, but the whole process of ourselves as individual people - in the understanding of that process there comes peace. It is only then that there can be security. But if we put security first, if we regard it as the most important thing in life, then there will be no peace; there will be only darkness and fear. As I was saying yesterday, I shall be answering some questions; but may I again point out, that what is important is to understand the problem, and not seek an answer to the question. If we seek an answer, it is an escape from the problem; but in understanding the problem itself, the problem ceases. So, there are only problems, not answers. It is the immature mind that seeks answers. If we know how to think, how to look at the problem - the problem of war, the problem of relationship, it does not matter what the problem is - if we can look at it and not try to dissolve it or find a solution for it, then we shall discover that the mind itself is the creator of the problem; but that requires a great deal of understanding, penetration, insight and awareness. You see, most of us are crippled with ideas and explanations; we know so much, and that very knowledge is impeding a simple, direct understanding. So, in discussing the problem, I am not answering it, but rather we are exploring it together. After all, that is the function of talking things over. You are not merely listening to a talk, but together we are trying to find out how to resolve the problem, and that requires a great deal of interest, attention. Question:I gave my son the very best of education, and yet he does not seem to be happy and cannot find his place in society. What is the cause of his failure? Krishnamurti: Why should one fit into society? (Laughter). It is not just something to be laughed off. That is the wish of every parent: that his son or daughter should fit into society. Why? Why should the child fit into society? What is this marvellous society that we have? Please, this is not a mere superficial remark to be brushed off by laughing it away. In India they want their children to fit into society. Here it is the same. In Russia it is the same. Everywhere we want the present state to con- tinue, and we want our children to fit into it. What is this thing called society? Let us think about it simply, not in the grand economic or philosophical sense. What is this society? This society is the outcome of acquisitiveness, of ambition, greed, envy, of the individual's pursuit of his own fulfilment, and of his search, his everlasting search to find some permanency in this impermanent world. Of course, in this society there are also passing joys, various forms of amusement, and so on. That, crudely, in a few words, is our society, and we want our sons to fit into it and make a success. We worship success. Our education is a process of teaching children to conform, is it not? It conditions them to fit into a certain pattern, it teaches them certain techniques so they will have jobs. And there is a constant threat of war. So, that is our society. And why do we educate our children? What is it all about? We never investigate. What is the purpose of education if our sons are ultimately going to be killed or kill others in a war? Surely, it is important that we think of this whole thing totally anew, and not do patchwork reform here and there. Should we not try to solve our problems, not in terms of America or Russia, or any other particular country, but as a whole? Should we not approach this problem of man's existence, not as Americans or as Englishmen, but in terms of human relationship? Until we do that we shall have constant wars, there will be starvation in the world. There is starvation, perhaps not in America, but in Asia, and until that problem is solved, there will be no peace here. And you cannot solve it as an American or a Russian, as a communist or a capitalist; you can solve it only as a human being. Please don't brush all this off as though you had heard it ten thousand times before. If you really understand this as a simple individual, then you will be solving the problem. But if you are merely concerned with trying to help your son to fulfil himself in a particular society, if you are merely concerned with a particular problem - which of course must be dealt with, but which cannot be dealt with unless you tackle the problem as a whole - , then you will find no answer, and therefore you will have more complications, more misery. So, we have to tackle really fundamentally the problem of what is education. Is it merely to teach a technique so that the young person will have a job? Or is it to create an atmosphere of true freedom, not to do what one likes, but freedom to cultivate that intelligence which will meet every experience every conditioning influence - meet it, understand it, and go beyond it? That requires a great deal of perception, a great deal of insight and intelligence on the part of each one of us. But, you see, we are all so frightened, because we want to be secure. The moment we seek security, the shadow of fear is cast, and in trying to overcome that fear we further condition ourselves, we condition our minds and create a society which is bound to limit our thinking. And the more efficient a society becomes, the more conditioned it is. To really tackle the problem of what is true education, to understand the whole significance of education, why we are educated, what it is all about, is an immense thing, not just to be talked about for a few minutes. You may have read or be capable of reading many books you may have great knowledge, an infinite variety of explanations; but surely that is not freedom. Freedom comes with the understanding of oneself, and it is only such freedom that can meet without fear every crisis, every influence that conditions; but that re- quires a great deal of penetration, meditation. Question: How can I have peace of mind in this disturbed world? Krishnamurti: Probably, if we want peace, it is of the kind that is a complete escape from the world, and to escape is something which most of us can successfully do. We escape through the radio, through dogma, through belief, through activity. To become completely absorbed in some form of activity gives us what we consider to be peace. Surely, that is not peace. You see, peace is not the opposite of disturbance. But if I can understand what causes disturbance and not seek peace, if I can understand what is the process that brings about disturbance in me, in my relationships, in my values, and therefore in society - if I can understand the whole process of disturbance, then in freeing myself from that disturbance, there is peace. But to seek peace without understanding the total process of myself, which is the cause of disturbance, merely becomes an illusion. That is why the people who meditate in order to be peaceful, who read, who do various practices, who take drugs in order to be peaceful, are really seeking sleep. What brings about peace, real tranquillity and stillness of the mind, is to understand the total process of oneself - which is not to seek peace, but to understand the "me" that is causing the disturbance. This understanding of the "me", of the self, with all its ambitions, its envies, greeds, acquisitiveness, violence - to understand all that is the way of meditation, is it not? It is the meditation in which there is no condemnation, no choice, but heightened awareness, an observation without any sense of identification. You see, for most of us peace is a withdrawal, it means entering into a cave of darkness, or holding on to some belief, some dogma, in which we find security; but that is not peace. Peace comes only with the total understanding of oneself, which is self-knowledge, and that self-knowledge cannot be bought. You need no book, no church, no priest, no analyst. You can observe the process of yourself in the mirror of your relationship with your boss, with your family, with your society. If the mind is alert, watchful, without choice, then there is freedom from the limitation of the self, and therefore there is peace, which brings its own security. May 24, 1954 NEW YORK 4TH PUBLIC TALK 28TH MAY 1954 As I was saying last week, I think these talks will be utterly useless if we do not know how to listen. I see some people taking notes, which indicates really that they are not listening. These notes are taken, obviously, as pointers to be thought over; but it seems to me that if we can think together over our many problems while we are here listening, it will be much more worth while than merely taking notes, or comparing what I say with what you have already read or heard. When your mind is occupied with taking notes, or with comparing what you hear with something else, you are actually not listening, are you? You are not directly experiencing what is being said; and it seems to me very important that we should directly experience these things. To directly experience what is being said is not to compare it with what you know. If we know how to listen, then I think the very act of listening is a form of release. If the thing that is being said is true, and one listens to it without any comparison, without taking notes, without opposition or resistance, then that very listening acts as a release, it is the beginning of freedom, because it sets going a process of freeing the mind from the very things with which we are burdened. So, instead of taking notes, or comparing what is being said with the books you have read, or labelling it as Oriental and putting it out of your mind, may I suggest that you listen with alert passivity, which is quite a difficult art, and then perhaps these talks will be worth while. We are not discussing a philosophy or a system of ideas, but we are trying to find out and actually experience how to liberate the mind from its own pettiness, because that, it seems to me, is the major problem of our life. Our thoughts, our activities, our knowledge, our religious beliefs, are very petty and very small. Ideas and beliefs may be vital in themselves, but we reduce them to the size of our minds, and because the mind - it does not matter whose it is - is the centre of the "me", of the "I", the ego, the self, it is very little, very small and petty. Being confronted with a series of crises, both racial and individual, religious and economic, I think it is very important that we should be able to meet these crises with a mind that is not limited, conditioned, already burdened with religious beliefs, with dogmas, with previous knowledge, and so on; for how can the vast problems involved be dealt with by a petty, small, narrow mind? And if we have thought about these things at all, is it not a problem with most of us how to free the mind from its own narrowness, from its own limitations? Surely, only with a free mind is it possible to attack these problems anew, to comprehend them in a totally different way; because every problem, though it may appear old, is always new. There is no old problem. It is only the mind which is old and which, in meeting the new problem, reduces the new in terms of the old. So, is it possible to free the mind from its own pettiness, which means, really from the centre of self-acquisitiveness, of self-improvement, from the urge to become something great, noble? Because all that indicates a process of the "me", of the "I", of the ego, does it not? And as long as that process goes on, it must surely create its own self-enclosing activity. And is it possible ever to be free from this self-enclosing activity? I am not putting this as a question for you to play with, but to actually find out about, because it seems to me that this is the major issue in our life. We have reduced religion to mere ritual or belief, and our gods, our self-disciplines lead, not to reality, but only to respectability. Our gods have really no meaning at all, and religion has become merely a series of beliefs and rituals without significance. Their influence is conditioning, like any other organized influence, whether it be the communist, the Christian, or the Hindu. The influence of dogma, belief, ritual, is tyrannical, limiting because it conditions and therefore makes the mind small, petty. Being confronted by immense problems, we are meeting them with our conditioned minds, and so we make these vast problems stupid and petty, thereby increasing the problems. So, is it not very important to find out, actually to understand and experience for oneself, how the mind can be free from all the influences which religion has imposed? Because religion which is organized obviously does not lead to reality. Reality can come into being only when the mind is free, when the mind is unconditioned. And is it possible not to belong to any religious group or organization, to any church, but to stand alone and find out what is true? Surely, religion as we know it is merely a process of make-believe. From childhood we are forced into a particular pattern of thought, and the mind believes for its own security, for its own safety; but religion is something totally different, is it not? It is a state in which reality can come into being - reality, truth, God, or what name you will. But when the mind is conditioned, shaped by belief, can it ever be free to receive that which is true? Is not religion that state of mind in which the known is not, so that the unknown can come into being? Because, after all, our gods are self-projected. We create our gods, we pursue ideals and beliefs, because they give us satisfaction, comfort, solace. But surely none of these things free the mind to discover reality and that is why it seems to me very important to strip ourselves of all these conditionings, not as an ultimate gesture, but right from the beginning, and to find out whether the mind can remain uncorrupted. Similarly, we accumulate knowledge, hoping that the petty mind can be enlarged and its shallowness wiped away through more and more learning, information. But can knowledge free the mind from its pettiness? We have vast information, scientific and otherwise, about so many things, and yet our minds are petty. We are only using this knowledge for our petty purposes, and we are destroying each other. So, knowledge has become a hindrance instead of a liberating process. Should we not be aware of all this, how we are influenced by the external environment, by impulses, reactions, by knowledge, and by so-called religion? And is it possible ever to free ourselves from these limitations and conditions from these self-imposed compulsions, so that the mind remains uncorrupted and is therefore able to meet life anew from moment to moment? I think that it is possible if we can be aware of all these issues without reacting to them, without being entangled in them. You see, after all, a belief, a dogma is a means of self-protection, is it not? If we had no dogma, no belief, we think we should be lost; so, dogma, belief, acts as a means of protection against that loneliness, against fear. We multiply beliefs, dogmas, to assure ourselves of security. So, our search is not for reality, truth, but for a means to be satisfied, to feel secure. And isn't it important just to be aware of this fact without reacting against it? Isn't it important to see how the mind is constantly pursuing its own security through nationality, through belief, through dogma, through ritual, thereby making itself petty, narrow, small, and creating problems? What is being said is a fact, it is not an invention, a psychological perversion; it is actually what is taking place within each one of us. We want leaders, we want someone to tell us what to do. Being afraid to stand alone, we turn to some form of shelter, refuge, so the mind is made petty, and its gods, its troubles, its disciplines, are equally petty. If we really see that, there is a release, there is a liberation without making an effort. I think this is the important thing, the only important thing: to find out how to free the mind from the self, whose activities are always narrow, limited, self-enclosing. The more we struggle against this limitation, the stronger the limitation; but if we see it, if we are aware of it, and if we know how to listen to what is being said, then that very listening will set each one of us free so that we can look at the problem anew, afresh - which is, to have a mind that is not corrupted. The difficulty in all this is that we are afraid of the consequences of letting go, of not belonging to some organization, of not calling ourselves patriotic; we are afraid to stand alone, not to have any support. But to find that which is real, you must be alone, mustn't you? The world is obviously caught in illusion, in hatred, in fear, with all its various absurdities and brutalities; and surely, to find out what is true, one must shed all that, mustn't one? - which means, really standing alone. But you cannot stand alone by volition, by an act of will. It is like seeing something false. When you see the false, there is that which is true. Seeing the false is not an act of volition, but it creates its own action. I think that is the really important thing, because what is needed now is not more knowledge, not new beliefs, whether communist or any other kind, but individuals who are capable of understanding all this conflict, who can look at it with clarity, with a mind uncorrupted, so that they are a light unto themselves. You cannot be a light unto yourself if you are merely a part of the social mechanism, which has very little significance. I think the real revolution is not economic or political, but a deep psychological revolution which makes you aware of the false as the false and thereby brings about that which is new, the real, the true. I shall answer some questions, but before I begin to discuss them, I think it is important to find out what a problem is. A problem exists only when it has taken root in the mind. Once an issue takes root in the mind, it becomes a problem, and then the mind will have to solve the problem; but having its root in the conditioned mind, the problem becomes insoluble. And is it possible not to allow any issue to take root in the mind, but to deal with it directly and immediately as it arises? But we cannot deal with it directly if we condemn it, if we are identified with it, if we in any way judge it, because our judgment, our condemnation, our comparison, is the outcome of our conditioning, and therefore it only strengthens the problem. So, what is important is to look at a problem, an issue, without condemnation, without comparing it with something else, and that is very difficult, because we are brought up from childhood to compare, to judge, to evaluate, and thereby we create a duality and hence conflict. And is it impossible to look at the problem, whatever it be, without allowing it to take root in the mind by comparing, judging, condemning it, or by identifying oneself with the problem? What I am saying is not very difficult if you will observe your own process of thinking. You see, you have a problem because it has already taken root, and to resolve it you either find an answer for it, or you condemn it, you push it away and think about something else, escape from it, which only strengthens the problem. But if one can really look at it without any sense of condemnation, without any sense of identification, then surely the problem has quite a different significance, has it not? So, problems exist only when they have taken root in the mind; and the mind which has absorbed the problem, in which the seed of the problem has already taken root, is incapable of solving it, however much it may struggle with the problem. To understand the problem, the mind must be really still, and the mind is still only when there is no sense of condemnation, identification or comparison. And when the mind is still, will there then be a problem at all? The problem exists because we are confused, and confusion arises when we are seeking some form of solu- tion to the problem, or when we are following a particular system, or are casting the shadow of some dogma or belief, or are caught in previous knowledge. But if we can understand the process of how the problem arises and therefore cease to condemn, compare, will there be a problem? Obviously you cannot answer, because you have never tried any of these things. All that you have done is to condemn, to compare, or to identify yourself with the problem. And it is extraordinarily difficult to be free from that process, because all our training is to compare, and we think that through comparison we shall understand. Surely, understanding comes, not through comparison, not through pursuing all kinds of activities, but only when the mind is very quiet, undisturbed. You see, we are so afraid of a mind that is not occupied. A mind that is merely occupied is a petty mind, whether it is occupied with the highest knowledge, or with the daily activities of the kitchen or the job. Such a mind is incapable of being free. Being occupied, when the problem arises we are incapable of dealing with it, because we have not understood the whole process of our thinking; and so we turn to leaders, or we turn to books, we turn to knowledge, we turn to religion, which are the outcome of our own confusion and the confusion of our leaders. So, in discussing these questions, there can obviously be no "yes" and "no". There is no answer to life, there is only living; but we have made living into a problem. In our living there is no joy, there is not the real bliss that comes with aloneness, with that freedom in which alone reality can come into being. Question: How can we achieve enduring peace without ourselves? Krishnamurti: Do you think peace is a thing to be achieved, to be got as a result, as a reward? Or does peace come into being when we understand the various factors that bring about disturbance? It is like a man who is full of hatred wanting love. He may practise love, but it has no meaning. Whereas, if we understand the whole process of hatred and fear, then perhaps that which is love will be. But, you see, our difficulty is that we want to find peace, though we are violent. We want to find love when we are creating antagonism, hatred. When there is fear in our hearts, without understanding fear, without understanding what that disturbance is, we run away from it in order to find peace, and so there is a duality in us. The problem, then, is not how to attain peace, but what is preventing us from understanding the causes that bring about disturbance, chaos, misery, struggle, pain, both in us and outside of us. Surely, if we can understand that, there will be peace, we don't have to seek it. If we seek peace, we are running away from what is. In the understanding of what is, the actual, there is peace. Please, this is not a theory. If we really go into this problem of why the mind is disturbed and understand it, then without creating a schizophrenic action, a dual process, a conflict within ourselves, we shall find peace. Peace is not the result of discipline; peace of mind does not come about through any form of compulsion, through any practice, which only puts a limitation on the mind. A petty mind can have no peace. A petty mind practising various forms of discipline, looking for peace, will never find it. It may find some kind of consolation, satisfaction, but that is not peace. So, what is important is to understand why the mind is disturbed What is this disturbance? Basically, fundamentally, does it not come about when there is this constant urge to be something, the desire for a result, the desire for self-improvement, the desire to achieve a certain noble action? As long as one is competitive, ambitious, there must be disturbance, there must be conflict. Without beginning near, we want to go far, but we can go far only when we begin very near. And beginning near is freedom from ambition, from wanting to be something, from the desire to be successful, to be recognized, to be famous - a dozen things which are all indications of the self, the "me", the ego. As long as the ego exists, there must be disturbance; and if the ego seeks peace, its peace is the result, the opposite of a disturbance, therefore it is not peace at all. If one realizes this, if one does not merely hear it but actually experiences it, then peace will come. But that requires a great deal of awareness, an awareness in which there is no choice; because if you choose, then you are back again in the process of acquiring, attaining. What is important, surely, is not to search for peace, not to pursue swamis, yogis, teachers in Oriental form, but to find out for ourselves how our own minds are working, how ambitious we are. You may not be personally ambitious but you may be ambitious for a group, for the nation, for the party you belong to, or for an idea; or you may worship God, as you call it. Having failed in this world you want to succeed in another world. So as long as any movement of the self exists there must be disturbance, there can be no peace. Question: Will the practice of yoga help me spiritually and physically? Krishnamurti: How eager we are to improve ourselves! Do you think self-improvement will bring you bliss or reality? You may derive from yoga certain benefits physically. But do you think self-improvement - that is, the "me" becoming better, gaining more knowledge, more information; the self improving and becoming more virtuous - do you think that process will bring about the tranquillity of the mind? In that process there is not the abnegation or the disappearance of the self, but on the contrary, the self, the "me" is becoming something better, and therefore it is always struggling, there is a battle going on both within and outside of itself. And do you think that will bring tranquillity to the mind? Do you think that is spiritual? What do we mean by the word "spiritual"? It is something of the spirit, something which is not of time, something which is not manufactured by the mind, is it not? Surely, the real, that which is truly spiritual, is not a thing put together by the mind, and therefore it cannot be practised by the mind. The mind is the result of many yesterdays, of innumerable experiences, of knowledge, influences, it is put together by time. And can the mind, which is the result of time, find that which is timeless, measureless? You may practise any amount of virtue, but surely that is not spiritual. When the mind, understanding the whole process of becoming, is totally free from every form of ambition - which means, really, when the mind is utterly still and is therefore not projecting itself into the future - , only then is there that which may be called the spiritual. But as long as we are struggling to be spiritual, we are just being ordinarily petty, that is all, only we call it by a big name. Question: I am attracted by your philosophy, but if I were to follow you I should have to leave my church. What do you offer in exchange? Krishnamurti: Following another is evil. Please listen to this. To follow another is evil, because it breeds authority, fear, imitativeness. And through following you will never find anything except that which you wish to find, which is your own gratification. What I am saying is not a philosophy. What we are trying to do is really to discover through our own awareness the process of our self. To discover what is true, we have to find out what is illusory and what is false. You cannot be led to discover. If you are led, there is no discovery. Discovery comes only when the mind is very quiet, not demanding, not asking, not begging, unafraid. But we are afraid. That is why we worship leaders, that is why we have churches priests and the whole gamut of modern civilization. Being afraid, we want to escape from it, we want to find a refuge, and so we belong to something. I am not asking you to leave your church, or to belong to a church. To me that is all immature activity, it doesn't mean anything. As nationalism separates man and causes wars, so religions, churches separate man and create antagonism. They do not lead to truth. Though everyone says there are many paths to truth, there is no path to truth. It is to the free mind, the mind that stands alone, uncorrupted, uninfluenced, it is only to such a mind that truth comes - which means, really, a mind that is unafraid. So, there is nothing to be offered to one who leaves his particular cage and enters another. We are talking, not of the different cages, the different churches and religious organizations, but of understanding oneself. The way of understanding is not merely to be free from a particular church, from a particular organization, nationality, or belief, but to be totally free, unafraid, and only such a mind can receive that which is ever timeless. And it seems to me that only such a mind can solve the present problem, not a mind that is becoming more religious, which means becoming more entrenched in a particular dogma, or following a particular system of thought. Such a mind is not a religious mind. The truly religious mind is a free mind, and being free, it is quiet, still; therefore reality can come into being. It is that reality, which creates its own action, that will solve the problems of the world, not the mind that is burdened with knowledge, or the mind that has accumulated experience, because knowledge, experience is the result of our particular conditioning. When you realize all this, not merely intellectually, verbally, but when you actually experience it, then you will find that you do not have to belong to anything, that you are a total human being with complete self-knowledge; therefore there is no disturbance, and hence there is that peace of mind in which reality can come into being. May 28, 1954 NEW YORK 5TH PUBLIC TALK 29TH MAY 1954 It seems to me that without self-knowledge most of our beliefs and activities have very little significance. And self-knowledge is not acquired from books, it is not a matter of learning from someone how to know about yourself; nor is it, I think, merely a process of gathering information about oneself. Most of us know only a positive way of thinking which I feel is the lowest form of thinking. That is, merely to accumulate knowledge about oneself and live according to that knowledge only leads to a further strengthening of the ego, of the "me", with all its complications. The highest form of thinking is negative, is it not? Surely, negative thinking is the highest form of thinking, and the discovery of how to think negatively can come about only through awareness of the responses of the self from moment to moment. We all know what to think, that is, we have been brought up from childhood to judge what is right, what is wrong to compare, and so on, which is a positive way of thinking. This positive way of thinking is the strengthening of experience, and the more we acquire it the more we think we are learning, finding out about ourselves. That is, we think that the strengthening of the past will give us understanding. Isn't that the way we think? The more we can study, the more we can analyze, the more we can store up experience and let that experience, that knowledge, guide our activity, the more secure, the more positive we are. That is the way we live, is it not? And that doesn't give any space to discover, because our experience is always conditioning us, always telling us what to think, how to approach life, and so on. Therefore there is never a negative approach to the problems of our existence, because the more experience we have, the more the mind is conditioned, is it not? I may be saying something which perhaps you have not heard before; and if so, please don't discard it or listen to it merely to find out what you think about it, because what you think about it will be according to your experience. To listen in order to discover the truth of what is being said, and to listen in order to form an opinion about it, are two different things, are they not? When I make a statement, what is important, surely, is not whether you can accept it or how you can use it, but to find out whether in itself it is true or false; and to see the truth or the falseness of what is being said, one has to suspend all one's judgments, one's reactions, which is quite an arduous task. That is why the way you listen is very, very important. As I have said over and over again, these talks will be utterly useless if you are merely gathering ideas to be utilized or to be thought over later. But if, as we proceed, we can together find out the truth of what is being said, then perhaps this, and the past talks, and the last talk tomorrow, may be of some significance. As I was saying, we have been trained in what to think about God, about truth, we have been educated to be nationalistic, and so on. Our minds are shaped from childhood, influenced by ideas, and any experience we have must be related with those ideas, with those beliefs. Therefore, experience never frees the mind. Do please listen to this. Experience never frees the mind, and yet we are pursuing experience, greater, wider, more significant experience. And when we do have an experience totally unconnected with the past, we take that experience and hold it in memory, which prevents the further birth of new experience. That is, our minds are being constantly influenced, shaped by past experience, and so the mind can never renew itself, it can never be a totally new instrument. Our own past experiences are conditioning both the future and the immediate, the now, because we are thinking positively in terms of time: what I have been, what I am, what I shall be; and all further experience, all human knowledge, is based on this conditioning. So, knowledge in that sense becomes an impediment to creative understanding. It seems to me that the highest form of thinking is negative. Negative thinking is not accumulation, but the constant discovery of what is true in relationship, which means seeing myself as I actually am from moment to moment. This self-knowledge is not a process in which the mind is gathering information in order to act rightly, or to avoid wrong action. And self-knowledge is essential, because if I do not know the process of my own thinking, if I am unaware of my own reactions, of my background, of the unconscious responses, compulsions, urges, then whatever thought I may have is conditioned by my past, and hence there is no freedom. So, is it not important to find out what is, to be self-aware without the process of accumulation? Because the moment I accumulate in the understanding of myself, that accumulation is going to dictate how I shall understand the next discovery. You see, we are concerned with how to improve ourselves, or how to improve society, therefore, change is merely a modified continuity, is it not? I gather, I learn, and I am using what I have learned to change; but what I have learned depends on my conditioning, my learning is always dictated by the past, so experience is never a liberating factor. if I see that, if I see the truth of it, then I can proceed to find out without accumulation. Please, it seems to me that this is important to understand. Why does the mind accumulate knowledge, acquire virtue? Why does the mind constantly strive to become something, to perfect itself? Why? And in the process of acquisition, accumulation, is not the mind burdened? Surely, all accumulation in self-knowledge is a hindrance to the further discovery of the self, and it is this accumulation that is making us think positively. Now, is it possible to discover and not be acquisitive, so that the discovery does not leave an experience which will condition further discovery? I hope I am making myself clear, because I think this is important. This is really the freedom from the self, so that there is no accumulative entity, and therefore there is creative being. Accumulation is not creativeness. A mind which is constantly acquiring can obviously never be creative. It is only the free mind that is creative, and there can be no freedom if every experience is stored up, because that which is accumulated becomes the centre of the "me", of the "I" which thinks positively. Positive thinking is the result of accumulation. Let me put it this way and perhaps it will be more clear. In my relationship with another - if I am at all aware - I discover my reactions, I watch my own status and how the previous experiences of discovery either condemn or justify what I have newly discovered in relationship. That new discovery is also stored up, and when next I am aware of my relationship with another and see my reactions, which is the process of self-knowledge, the past again dictates, or translates in terms of the past, what I have discovered. Surely, what I am saying is not very complicated. It is simple enough if we look at it. You see, as long as I am accumulating, gathering, storing up, my mind is thinking in terms of what to do and how to do it, and therefore my mind can never be free, because the whole process of my thinking is based on past accumulation, on past experience. So, thinking only prevents further discovery. What is thinking? It is the response of the past, verbalized and communicated, the past being the accumulations, the various influences, the conditionings of the mind. Thinking can never resolve the problem, thinking can never bring about a completely new state, a total transformation of our being, because thinking is the result of the past. Now, is it possible for thought to come to an end? That is the problem. If thought can come to an end, then there is the cessation of all accumulation, and hence there is a possibility of the new. This is not as fantastic as it sounds, if you really go into the matter. When you think, surely your thinking is the result of the past, of your conditioning, of your belief, of your background, conscious or unconscious. According to your background you respond, and that response is called thinking; and through thinking you want to solve your problems. And the more you acquire, the more you accumulate experience, the greater you think will be your capacity to go into the problem and resolve it. So, when you see that, then the inevitable question arises within yourself, which is: can thought come to an end so that I can discover the truth of the problem, and not translate it in terms of my experience or according to my background? Thinking is really a positive process and not a liberating process. We are brought up from childhood to know what to think; newspapers, magazines, everything around us tells us what to think. We are accustomed to gathering, to accumulating, which prevents us from actually understanding any particular problem totally and completely. We can understand a problem completely only when the mind is still, which is when there is no compulsion of any kind. If you have really listened to this, you will not ask how thought is to come to an end, you will not say, "Tell me the method". The very asking of that question, the desire for a method, is another form of accumulation. But if you see the truth that only with the ending of thought can the problem be resolved, if you see it without trying to utilize it, then you will discover the significance of the whole process of thinking. Thinking actually strengthens the "me", the self, the self which is the maker of trouble, the maker of mischief, misery, whether it is identified with a nation, with a group, with a religion, or with an idea. Thinking is the outcome of the "me", which has been accumulated for centuries; so thinking will not solve our problems, on the contrary, it will multiply them, bring greater misery. If we see the truth of that, if through self-knowledge we see the truth of how the mind works, the conscious as well as the unconscious, if we are aware of the total process, then that very awareness will bring about the cessation of thought, and therefore stillness of the mind. You know, we all have many problems which we seem to multiply. The resolution of one problem produces other problems, so our minds are everlastingly caught in problems; and we are always seeking answers to these problems, because fundamentally we want to use everything for our own benefit. If we hear something which is true, which we have caught the significance of, we immediately want to utilize it we say, "How can I use it in order to improve myself, to arrive at a more advanced stage?" So, we are always increasing our problems. Whereas, ii we are able to see what is true and leave it alone, not try to utilize it, then that very truth will operate, we don't have to do anything. As long as we are doing something about it, we shall create problems. Please listen to this. The difficulty is to pay attention, to give our whole being to discover, to find out. And when we do find out what is true, we want to utilize it, either socially, or to make ourselves happy, to be peaceful. Whereas, if we really give our whole attention, listen completely with our whole being, then that very perception of what is true, if we leave it alone, will begin to operate in spite of us. Question: In this country we have always felt secure, but now our spiritual and physical well-being is threatened and fear is shaping our thinking. How can we overcome this fear? Krishnamurti: As long as you are pursuing security in any form there must be fear. Please listen to this, follow it. As long as you as a nation, as a group, as an individual want to be safe, secure in your belief, in an idea, in anything, you are inviting fear, your shadow is fear. As long as you remain an American a Hindu, a Russian, a communist, a Catholic, a Protestant, or what you will, there must be fear. You see, we know this, we are deeply aware of this fact, but superficially we create a system which we think will give us security: nationalities which are separative, religions which are mere bigotry, dividing man against man. So, as long as we remain isolated in our nationalism, in our belief, in our own security, there must be wars, there must be hatred there must be antagonism, and therefore fear. And do we ever directly experience what is fear? Please listen to this question. Do we ever directly experience what is fear? Knowing that we are afraid, we run away from it, do we not? We try to overcome it, we justify or condemn it, which are ways of avoiding and not directly experiencing fear. Do you understand what I am saying? You experience directly any form of pleasure, you don't let anything interfere with it; but any form of unpleasantness you try to avoid. Fear is unpleasant, so you are never in direct relationship with it, you never directly experience it. When there is fear, you try to overcome it, you try to find out what to do about it. Your mind is already occupied, not with the direct experience of fear but with how to overcome it. Do you ever experience fear directly, without any interpretation without avoidance, justification or condemnation, so that there is a direct relationship with fear and you know totally that you are afraid? Are you ever in that state? Obviously not. Because when one is directly experiencing fear, then is there fear? It is only when one is avoiding or running away that there is fear. As long as your mind is seeking security in any form, physical, emotional or psychological, there must be fear. That is a fact, whether you like it or not. As long as you are only thinking of the American Way of Life, of improving your own standards, of having more money, more material welfare, while half the world has only one meal, or half a meal a day there must be fear. Now, if you know that you are afraid because of this desire to be secure, can you look at that fear and be with it completely? Experiment with what I am saying and you will see that the thing which we call fear is a process in which the mind gives a name to a particular quality, and that this very naming strengthens the quality. Suppose I am jealous envious and I am aware of that feeling. My awareness of it is a process of naming and then recognizing that feeling through the name. So the naming of it strengthens that particular feeling. The process of recognition is a process of strengthening what is recognized. When I name fear I have strengthened fear, and therefore I run away. Observe for yourself the process of your own thinking. When you have fear, watch and you will see how you condemn it, how you want to run away from it. You want to shape it, you want to push it away, you want to do something about it, because it is unpleasant. But when you have a pleasant thing, you are identified with it totally. Identification and avoidance is the process of naming, is it not? And when you give a term to a particular feeling, you strengthen that feeling. Is it possible for the mind to be free from the desire to be secure, and therefore free from fear? The two go together, do they not? You cannot get rid of fear and yet seek security. The desire for security in any form - security in relationship with another, in any experience - can only breed fear; and after you have bred fear, you want to overcome it. You cannot overcome fear. All that you can do is to find out the whole process that brings about the state of fear, see the truth of it, and leave it alone. Then you don't have to overcome fear. The truth will operate. The fact that you are afraid and are not directly related to the fact - that is in itself the factor which, if you are conscious of it,is going to liberate the mind from fear. Please, you are not learning anything from me. If you are learning, you are accumulating, and therefore you are not discovering. What I am saying is actually what is happening in each one of us. If you don't discover it, but merely learn it, then it has no meaning. But if, as you listen, you observe your own process of thinking, then you will discover it; then it is yours, not mine. Then you don't have to follow a single thing, you don't have to follow any person or idea, because you are a light unto yourself. Then there is no fear of authority, and all the evils of following it are gone. Question: Compulsive judgment and self-incrimination hold the mind in a firm grip. Since the compelling force is so strong, how is one to free oneself from these things? How are we to stay with an essential problem, since our strength of endurance is undermined by fears? Krishnamurti: You see one of the difficulties is that we want to be free - free from fear, free from compulsive urges, free from our background, free from our conditioning. That is, we want to be free from suffering, and hold on to pleasure. Please watch your own mind. You are not merely listening to me, you are observing the process of your own mind, because I have nothing to say except to point out how your own mind is operating and destroying freedom. As long as you want to be free, there is no freedom. But is it not possible to know all the compulsive forces, influences, to be aware of them and not try to be free from them? If you want to be free from them, you resist, and that very resistance creates problems. And if you observe these compulsive forces in yourself, with their strength and their fears, you will see how difficult it is simply to be aware of them without condemning, without choosing, without saying, "This is good, that is bad, this I am going to hold, that I am going to let go" - which is really not being aware. After all, each one of us is caught in various forms of compulsive force, and when this is pointed out to us, or when we casually or superficially become aware of it, we want to free ourselves of it; and this very desire to be free creates a resistance against it. So, knowing that you have compulsive urges, what is important is to look at them, live with them, and understand them; and you can understand them only when you don't want to run away from them, when you don't justify, compare, or condemn them. If you see the compulsive force and just remain there, without trying to free yourself from it, then you will find that the thing which you wanted to be free from has dropped away from you without your making an effort to be free. Question: What to you is prayer and meditation? Krishnamurti: It does not matter very much what they are to me, but let us find out what is the truth, the significance of prayer and meditation. If I tell you what to me is prayer and meditation it will only be an opinion, and apparently many people are interested in gathering opinions; but here we are not concerned with opinions. We want to find out what is the truth of this matter, and not look at it according to the opinion of the Catholics, the Protestants, the Buddhists, or the Hindus. That does not bring about liberation of the mind, but only a superficial change, a modified continuity. So, we are not concerned with opinion, whether Oriental or Occidental, but with trying to find out the implications of prayer and of the whole question of what is meditation. Is meditation synonymous with prayer? Do you pray? Why do you pray? We are not concerned with how you should pray, or what is the best form of prayer, but with why you pray, because that is the fact; so let us start with that. Why do you pray? When there is clarity, when there is joy, bliss, or what you will, do you pray then? Surely, that very joy, that bliss, is a form of heightened intelligence or living. We pray only when we are confused, when we are in sorrow, when we want something. That is so, is it not? A mind that is very clear, free, untrammelled, without any problems, why should it pray? It is itself in a state of incorruptibility. It is when we do not know whom to follow, when we have the multiplication of problems, when we are in sorrow, when we are hopelessly lost, frustrated, unfulfilled -it is only then that we want someone to help us, and therefore we pray. We repeat certain sentences, we force the mind to be still, because the very suffering compels us to be quiet. The compulsion to prayer, then, is the desire to overcome fear or sorrow, and naturally there is a response. When you ask, you are given, and what you receive depends on the state of your mind, of your desire, of your misery. When you pray, you take a certain posture, repeat certain words, and thereby quiet the conscious mind; and when the conscious mind is quiet, the unconscious may produce an answer to your particular suffering, to your immediate problem, or the answer may come to the quiet conscious mind, not from within, but from outside yourself. But surely, that is not meditation. Meditation is emptying the mind of the known. After all, meditation is not concentration. You can concentrate on anything in which you are interested, which is an obvious fact. Being absorbed in a particular idea, in the repetition of a particular word or sentence, or in projecting an image, a symbol, a saviour -surely, none of that is meditation. The projection comes from the background of your conditioning, and living in that image is not meditation. And yet this is what most of us call meditation, is it not? We want to know how to meditate. Books have been written about it, and when they talk about meditation, concentration, absorption, it implies resistance, discipline, which only strengthens the past, filling and narrowing the mind. It seems to me that meditation is something totally different, because concentration on an idea is an exclusive, acquisitive process which merely brings certain forms of satisfaction and gratification. Surely, meditation is the discovery of what is true from moment to moment. Please listen to this. As long as I am practising a method, the method will produce a result, but the result is not what is true. It is a product of the mind in its desire to be safe, to be comforted; therefore the mind is never empty, it is filled, occupied, and such a mind can never allow the unknown to come into being. You may practise meditation for years and be able to control your mind completely, but then what? What have you done? Your mind is still petty, small, conditioned by the past, filled with the known and so the unknown can never come into being. Meditation, then, is a process of freeing the mind through self-knowledge from all the things that it has accumulated - not just from one form of accumulation which is painful, but from every form of accumulation, from everything that it has known, experienced, so that not only the conscious mind, but consciousness as a whole, is totally empty, free. It is only then that the immeasurable, that which is not put together by the mind, which is not sought after, comes into being. But it cannot come into being if you invite it, because your invitation is merely the desire for comfort, the desire to save yourself, the desire to avoid pain. So, your mind is everlastingly struggling to become something, or wanting greater experience through meditation. But true meditation is the understanding that comes through self-knowledge, and that understanding is not the outcome of accumulation. If there is any sense of the experiencer apart from the experience, then the mind is not empty. As long as the mind is seeking experience, there must be the experiencer, therefore there is an urge, a compulsion to expand, to gather, to accumulate. When the mind sees the whole significance of thinking, or experiencing, only then is there a possibility of emptying the mind so that the mind itself is the unknown, not the experiencer of the unknown. May 29, 1954 NEW YORK 6TH PUBLIC TALK 30TH MAY 1954 If I may repeat what I said the other day, these talks have very little significance if we do not directly experience what is being said; and that experience is immediate, it is not to be thought over or remembered and put into practice, because direct experience of what is true will have its own effect without the mind seeking to act upon it. That is why it is very important to listen, not only to what is being said, but to everything in life. When we hear another say something, when we read, when we hear the birds, or the sound of the restless sea, it is important to listen, because in the very act of listening there is a direct experience which is uncontaminated by any of our prejudices, our particular conditioning. It seems to me that most of us find it extremely arduous to listen because we have read so much and we justify or compare it with what we hear; or we try to remember what is being said in order to think it over. So the mind is restless and therefore not listening. Most of us have many problems, and the solution to these problems lies, not in searching for the solution, but in listening to the actual content of the problem. We are all seeking happiness at different levels, we want permanency, security, someone to take us over to the other side, to a permanent state of bliss. We are searching for something, and that is our life, moving from one object of search to another. We are never satisfied. Consciously or unconsciously, we are always pursuing, searching, and the background of this search, if we go into the process, is really the urge to find some kind of satisfaction, some kind of permanency, happiness. We have made search as inevitable as breathing, living, and we say life has no meaning if we do not seek. So, we are everlastingly pursuing, looking for something at different levels. As long as we are seeking we must create authority, we must follow or have a following. And it seems to me that this is one of the most crucial points: whether there is anyone - a saviour, a master, an enlightened one, it doesn't matter who it is - who can ever lead us to reality. Yet that is what each one of us is seeking, and we have accepted the search as inevitable. Without seeking, we say, life has no meaning, but we never go behind that word to find out the whole significance of this urge to seek, to find. You have been told that if you seek you will find. But your search, if you go into the process of it is the outcome of a desire to find some kind of security, some kind of hope, some kind of fulfilment, a bliss, a continuity in which there is no frustration. And as long as you are seeking, you must create authority, the authority that will take you over, that will lead you, give you comfort. Is it not important to ask ourselves if there is anyone, any authority who can give us that truth which we think will be satisfactory? And we have never asked ourselves what is the state of the mind if all search ceases. Search implies a process of time, does it not? So, we use time as a means of understanding something which is beyond time. Search implies a continuity, and continuity means time, a series of experiences which we hope will lead us to truth; and if those experiences do not take us to that which we are seeking, then we turn to somebody else, we disregard the old and take on a new leader, a new teacher, a new saviour. So, what I am asking is not that we should deny search, because we are caught in it, but will seeking lead to reality? - reality being the unknown, that which is not the product of the mind, which is a state of creativeness, which is totally new from moment to moment, which is timeless, eternal, or whatever other word can be used to indicate that it is out of time. I think it is important to ask ourselves this question. You may not find the answer. But if you are really persistent with the question, "Why do I seek?" and let that question reveal the content of your search, then perhaps there may be a moment, a second when all search ceases. Because, search implies effort, does it not? Search implies choice, choice from among the various systems that will lead you, the various methods, practices, disciplines, saviours, masters, gurus. You have to choose, and your choice invariably depends on your conditioning and your gratification. Therefore, your search is really dictated by your conscious or unconscious desire. Please follow all this - not that I am trying to guide your thinking, but I am just pointing out what it is we are doing. At the moment of rest from this constant struggle, is there not the freedom from search? And so inevitably, when one examines this process of search, the question arises, does it not? whether anyone can lead us to what we call truth, reality, God, or whatever name you like to give it? Do you understand the problem? We are used to being led, following a saviour, a master, having someone to tell us what to do. We follow what another says because he has fasted, practised discipline, become an ascetic; we think he has arrived, found enlightenment, and so we go to him. All religions maintain that you must have someone who is enlightened, who knows the truth, and that in his presence, with the example of his way of life, you will find it. But is there anyone who can lead you to truth? To me, that whole process is destructive, it is uncreative, it will not lead to that which is timeless, because the very process of seeking implies time. We use time to understand that which is beyond time. And can the mind which for centuries, generation after generation, has been caught in this process of seeking, can that mind not seek? That is, can the search for any kind of gratification come to an end? - which doesn't mean that you should be satisfied with what is. You see, the difficulty in this is that when we have gone far in our questioning, in our inquiry, we come to an impasse, and then we stop; but the stopping is merely a compulsion. If we could find a way out, we would pursue it. So, can you who are listening be without a guide, without seeking, and therefore understand this whole process of time? Even though one may not understand the full significance of what is being said, I think it is very important to listen to it. Because, after all, life isn't merely a series of conflicts, it isn't just a matter of earning a livelihood, of living comfortably in a sumptuous flat and enjoying worldly things. That isn't the whole content of life. That is only part of it; and if one is satisfied with the part, then inevitably there is confusion leading to misery and destruction. Life is a total process, is it not? It must be lived at all levels, completely, and a mind that is satisfied with any one particular level of existence is inviting sorrow. In its very structure, by its very nature, the mind is always curious, wanting to know, wanting to find out whether there is something beyond this thing that we call living, beyond our struggles, our efforts, our miseries, our passing joys, sensations. But can I know what is beyond through mere curiosity, by reading what someone has said who has had experience of something beyond? Or can the mind experience what is beyond only when it is uncontaminated, totally alone, uninfluenced, and therefore no longer seeking? If you are listening, not to what I am saying, but to the process of your own mind, doesn't this question inevitably arise - the question as to whether this struggle to find reality, to discover something beyond the transient, has any meaning? If we cannot find satisfaction in one direction, don't we turn to something else? In the Orient they are starving, therefore they turn to God. This is the process of existence in the Orient and in the Occident, it is not only limited to the Oriental people. Can there be the cessation of all search, and therefore the freedom from all compulsion, all authority, the authority created by religions, the authority which each one creates in his search, in his demand, in his hope? We all want to find a state in which there is no disturbance of any kind, a peace which is not put together by the mind, because what is put together can be undone by the mind. And it seems to me that as long as the mind is seeking, it must create authority; and when it is completely lost in fear, in imitation, it can no longer find what is true. Yet that is what is happening throughout the world. Through the tyranny of governments and the tyranny of religions there is the conditioning of each child, each human being, to a particular form of thinking, however wide or however narrow, and this conditioning, whether here or in Russia, is obviously going to prevent any discovery of what is true. And is it possible for each one of us to find out what is true without seeking? Because search implies time, search implies gaining an end, search implies dissatisfaction, which is the motive of your search for gratification or happiness. All that implies time, the tomorrow, not only chronologically but psychologically, inwardly. And is it possible to experience, not in terms of time but immediately, that state when the mind is no longer seeking? The immediacy is important, not how to arrive at that state when the mind is no longer seeking, because then you introduce all the factors of struggle, of time. And I think it is important, not only to listen to that question, but actually to put it to yourself and leave it, not try to find an answer to it. According to the way you put it, and the earnestness of your question, you will find the answer. For that which is measureless cannot be caught by a mind that is seeking, by a mind that is full of knowledge; it can come into being only when the mind is no longer pursuing or trying to become something. When the mind is completely, inwardly empty, not demanding anything, only then is there that instantaneous perception of what is true. In discussing some of these questions we are not trying to solve the problem; we are together taking the journey of investigation. As long as we are limited by our own experience and knowledge, the problem can never be solved. And is it possible for the mind to look at the problem, not in terms of its own cognizance, but just to look at it, without any resistance? Surely, resistance is the problem. If there is no resistance there is no problem. But our whole life is a process of resistance; we are Christians or Hindus, communists or capitalists, and so on. We have built walls around ourselves, and it is these walls that create the problem; and then we look at the problem from within our particular wall. Don't ask, "How am I going to get out of the enclosure"? The moment you put that question you have brought in another problem, and so we multiply problem after problem. We don't see the truth simply and clearly that resistance creates problems, and leave it there. Surely, what matters is to be aware of the resistance, not how to break down the resistance. And awareness is not something extraordinary, beyond. It begins very simply: by being aware of your talk, of your reactions, just seeing, watching all that without judgment or condemnation. It is very difficult to do this, because all our conditioning for centuries is preventing awareness without choice. But be aware that you are choosing, that you are condemning, that you are comparing, just be aware of it without saying, "How am I not to compare?" Because then you introduce another problem. The important thing is to be aware that you do compare, that you are always condemning, justifying, consciously or unconsciously - just be aware of that whole process. You will say, "Is that all"? You ask that question because you hope through awareness you will get somewhere. Therefore your awareness is not awareness, but a process in which you are going to get something, which means that awareness is merely a coin which you are using. If you can simply be aware that you are using awareness as a coin to buy something, and proceed from there, then you will begin to discover the whole process of your own thinking, of your being in the relationship of existence. Question: You have said that nationalities, beliefs, dogmas are separative. Is the family also a separative force? Krishnamurti: As long as there is any form of identification with the family, with a national group, with a dogma, with a belief, obviously it is separative. If I identify myself with India, with its past, with its religion, with its dogmas, with its nationality, I am obviously building a wall around myself through identification with what I think is greater than myself. Surely, the question is not whether the family or the group is separative, but why the mind identifies itself with something and thereby creates division? Why do I identify myself with India? Because if I do not identify myself with India, with America, with the Orient, or the Occident, or what you will, I am lost, I feel alone, deserted. This fear of being lonely, alone, compels me to identify myself with my family, with my property, with a house, with a belief. It is that that is bringing separation, not the family. If I do not identify myself with something, what am I? I am nobody. But if I say I am an Indian with Oriental wisdom and all that nonsense -you know the whole business of it - , then I am somebody. If I identify myself with America or with Russia, it gives me prestige, it makes me feel worth while, it gives me a sense of significance in life, because I do not want to be nobody, I do not want to be anonymous. I may bear a name, but the name must bring importance. I am unwilling to be really nobody, to have no identification of the "me" with something which I call bigger: God, truth, country, family, or ideology. It is this process of identification that is separative, destructive. Please listen to this. This is your problem, because the world is being divided now into two dogmatic identifications which are increasing the separative force. We are human beings, not Indians, or Americans, or Russians; and is it possible to live without identifying, to be nobody in this world where everyone is struggling to be somebody? Surely it is possible. Your trying to be somebody is leading to misery, to wars, all of which implies the search for power; and when you seek power as an individual, as a group, or as a nation, you are bringing about your own destruction. This is a fact. Can you and I remain in solitude inwardly, without seeking power, without identifying with anything - which means, really, having no fear? You will find the answer for yourself if you go into the problem. Question: Do you deny the value and integrity of saints in all ages, including Christ and Buddha? Krishnamurti: This raises a very interesting question. Why do you want saints? Why do you want heroes? Why do you want examples? And who is a saint? Because a church canonizes somebody, is he a saint? And what is your measure of a saint? Your measure will be according to your desires, hopes and conditionings. But, you see, the mind wants somebody to cling to, something beyond itself. You want leaders, saints, examples to follow, to imitate, because in yourself you are poor, insufficient, so you say, "If I can follow somebody, I shall be enriched". You will never be enriched, you will be made the poorer; because it is only when the mind, when your whole being is empty, not seeking, that the creativeness of reality comes into being. You don't have to believe what I am saying. Your saints, your leaders have led you nowhere. You have only wars, misery, strife, a continuous battle within and without. But if you can see what you are, that you are inwardly poor, that you are caught in struggles, miseries, see it and not try to change it into something else, which only modifies it; if you can remain with what is without any desire to transform it, then there is transformation. But as long as the mind is trying to imitate, to adjust, to measure with its preconceived ideas who is a saint and who is not, then it is merely pursuing its own fulfilment, which is vanity. Question: I am a young man without any religion. I do not consider any system of government as my authority. I lack ambition and I do not have a job, nor can I keep one for very long because I am not ambitious. I create misery in my home because I am financially dependent on my parents, and they are not sufficiently well off to support me. How might we look at this problem? Krishnamurti: You are living in a society whose structure, morality and ethics, though it may say the contrary, are based on acquisitiveness, on envy. Not to fit into that society implies either that you are totally free from ambition, and are therefore not acquisitive, or that mentally there is something wrong; because to be without ambition is astonishingly difficult. I may not be ambitious in the worldly sense, but I may be seeking something else: I want to be happy, I want to fulfil myself in my children, in my activity, and so on. So, it is a very rare thing to find someone who is not ambitious, competing, striving. But it is comparatively easy to be lazy. Please don't laugh at this, or misinterpret what you have heard to suit your particular mode of thinking. If one is not ambitious even though one lives in a world that is full of ambition, where every individual, group and nation is seeking power, position, prestige, then to find out why one is not ambitious is very important, is it not? It may be a disease; it may be a weakness of mind. Or you may have imposed upon yourself the condition that you must not be ambitious. To understand the whole problem of ambition, of strife, and to find out what it really means to live in a competitive society without striving to be somebody, is a very difficult thing to do; because if we fail in this world, we want to succeed in the next world, we want to sit at the right hand of God. Not to seek any form of fulfilment requires great understanding, for each one of us is seeking fulfilment; and when we seek fulfilment, there is frustration. You may be aware of that frustration beforehand and therefore try to avoid all kinds of ambition, all desire to fulfil, but that only imprisons you in your own conclusion. Whereas, to understand the process of fulfilment, to go through it, to be aware that one's whole drive, urge, compulsion, is towards fulfilment, and that thereby there is frustration and sorrow, and to ask oneself if there is any such thing as fulfilment at all - surely, all that requires self-knowledge. Question: If we could experience immortality, would there be fear of death? Krishnamurti: Is it possible for the mind, for you, to experience something which is not mortal, which is not created by the mind, which is not of time? Obviously, if we could experience that, there would be no fear of death. But is it possible? Is it possible for a mind which is afraid, which functions within the field of time - is it possible for such a mind to experience that which is beyond time? Perhaps if you did various tricks you might experience something, but it would still be within the field of time. So, let us leave for the moment the question of what is the immortal, because we do not know what it is. But we do know the fear of death, of old age and withering away, we are quite familiar with that; so let us take that and examine it, go into it, and not ask if we can be free of fear by experiencing immortality. Such a question has very little meaning. We are afraid of death, which means we are afraid of coming to an end. All the things we have acquired, the experiences we have gathered, the knowledge, the relationships, the affections, the virtues we have cultivated - we are afraid of all that coming to an end. You may have a hope, a belief that there is a resurrection in the future, but fear is there, because the future is uncertain. Through your religions, your priests, your hopes have said that there is a continuity in some form or other, there is still uncertainty. You do not want to die. That is a fact. So, is there the understanding of fear in relation to death? Is it possible to die while living? Please listen. If I am not accumulating, if I am not living in the future, in tomorrow, if I am content in the rich worship of one moment, there is no continuity. Continuity implies time: I was, I am, and I shall be. As long as I am sure that I shall be, I am not afraid; but the "shall be" is very uncertain, and so I seek immortality, a confirmation that I shall continue. In continuity is there a transformation? Can anything that continues in time be in a state of complete revolution? Can a continuity have newness? And is it not important inwardly to die each day, not theoretically, but actually not to accumulate, not to let any experience take root, not to think of tomorrow psychologically? As long as we think in terms of time, there must be fear of death. I have learned, but I have not found the ultimate, and before I die I must find it; or if I do not find it before I die, at least I hope I shall find it in the next life, and so on. All our thinking is based on time. Our thinking is the known, it is the outcome of the known, and the known is the process of time; and with that mind we are trying to find out what it is to be immortal, beyond time, which is a vain pursuit, it has no meaning except to philosophers, theorists and speculators. If I want to find the truth, not tomorrow, but actually, directly, must not I - the "me", the self that is always gathering, striving and giving itself a continuity through memory -cease to continue? Is it not possible to die while living - not artificially to lose one's memory, which is amnesia, but actually to cease to accumulate through memory, and thereby cease to give continuance to the "me"? Living in this world, which is of time, is it not possible for the mind to bring about, without any form of compulsion, a state in which the experiencer and the experience have no basis? As long as there is the experiencer, the observer, the thinker, there must be the fear of ending, and therefore of death. As long as I am seeking further experience, giving strength to my own continuity through the family, through property, through the nation, through ideas, through any form of identification, there must be the fear of coming to an end. And so, if it is possible for the mind to know all this, to be fully aware of it and not merely say, "Yes, it is simple; if the mind can be aware of the total process of consciousness, see the whole significance of continuity and of time, and the futility of this search through time to find that which is beyond time - if it can be aware of all that, then there may be a death which is really a creativity totally beyond time. May 30, 1954 MADRAS 1ST PUBLIC TALK 5TH DECEMBER 1954 I think it is very important, especially now in this unprecedented crisis throughout the world, to know how to listen, not only to a speaker, to the human voice, but also to the birds, to the sound of the sea, to everything about us. It seems to me that it has become extraordinarily urgent for each one of us to find out what is true and what is false irrespective of the innumerable teachers here and in the West, and of all the sacred and other books that have been and are being published. Surely one must be able to listen without being converted to any particular point or view, to any particular philosophy or ideology, and discover for oneself beyond the words, beyond the similes and intricate thoughts, exactly what is true behind all this verbiage. First of all, do we ever listen to anything? Are we capable of listening? If you observe yourself you will see how difficult it is to listen, because you have preconceived ideas, opinions and judgments based on your own tradition, your own experience and cultural influences, and these constantly intervene. They are like screens between you and that which you are trying to hear; so there is no listening at all but merely a translation of what you hear in terms of your own conditioning. Do observe, watch your own mind when you are listening to what is being said, and you will see this extraordinary process actually taking place. You are really not listening. You have already an opinion about what is going to be said; you have conclusions, formulations, certain definite ideas, and the knowledge of the experience you have gathered is corrupting your mind. So your mind is never quiet, never still to find out what is true. Is it not essential for a man who wants to find out for himself what is true to put aside all the things he has gathered, all the knowledge, the conclusions based on his own experience, so that the mind can perceive directly what is true without the screen of interpretation? Can you be told by another what is true? From childhood we have been taught not how to think but what to think, not how to listen but what to listen to. So we must now endeavour to find out how to listen, which means really how to think anew about all the problems of life, how to look at things very clearly without the prejudices of any race or culture, without the interpretation of our particular conditioning. As I said, we are in an extraordinary crisis both historically and culturally. In a fortunate way there are no leaders any more, because you can no longer trust any leader. You do follow leaders when you want to get something from them spiritually or politically, but if you are intelligently observant you will be aware that the process of leadership does not bring about a fundamental revolution. The revolution of a leader is merely the continuation of the old in a different form, To change one pattern into another pattern is no change at all, it is merely a modified continuity. To bring about an inward revolution, a revolution in the whole process of our thinking and in the ways of our behaviour, demands on the part of each one of us a putting aside of all our preconceived ideas, a freeing of ourselves from every kind of thought - pattern in order to find out what is true. That is the only thing you and I can have in common, because what I am saying is neither Eastern nor Western; our problems are too colossal to be divided as Indian and British, Russian and American. These divisions are merely political and are absurd. Our problems are enormous and they cannot be solved from any political or sectarian point of view because they vitally concern us all as human beings, whether we live here or there. Do you understand? To discover, first of all, what is our major problem, we cannot think in terms of the Orient or the Occident, we can, not think as Hindus, Moslems or Christians. If we do we create from the major problem innumerable secondary problems which have no significance at all. Please understand this one simple thing, listen to and see the truth of it. We cannot think in terms of the Hindu, the Christian, the Islamic or any other culture, because the problem is much too vast to be dealt with according to a religious dogma or a particular pattern of philosophy. That is obvious, is it not? But can your mind put aside all that, actually and not merely verbally? Theoretically you will spin words about it in order to discuss, but actually you are caught in the web of your own traditions, your own conditioning; therefore it is impossible to look at any problem comprehensively. What is happening in the world at the present time, and perhaps has always happened? There are various political leaders each wanting to reform the world in a particular way, to push it to the left or to the right, or to maintain neutrality. Innumerable religious leaders are saying that there is a God, a divine end for man, and that a particular path will lead to it. Then there are the economic gurus who offer an earthly Utopia in the future if you will work hard for the party and conform to the authority of the book. The reformers, the historians, the politicians, the religious teachers, with their various patterns of thought, all point in different directions and say what is the right thing to do, and the greater the authority the more the followers. Now, all that is happening in the world is a projection of our own confusion and misery, is it not? We want to have both physical security and inward peace, we want to be without conflict, sorrow and pain, without the constant battle between the opposites, between what is and what should be, we want a haven from this ceaseless strife within ourselves. Seeing this whole process going on, don't you ask what it is all about? This may seem a very childish question, but you have never found the answer, have you? Nor can great philosophers answer it for you. What Sankara, Buddha and others have said may be false, it may be utterly inadequate. To find the truth you must first understand the problem, which means that you must be capable of looking at it without any conditioning. So, don't you ask yourself what this conflict and misery is all about? You strive, you add a degree to your name after passing an examination, you go to the office every day to earn a few rupees, and there is the endless struggle between the rich and the poor. What is it all about? Must you not find out for yourself and not rely on any person, on any book? It is not a question of capacity, it is a question of interest and drive. The moment you are really interested in this you will find that you have the enthusiasm, the passion to find out, and therefore you are willing to examine anything that may help you to discover the truth. What is important, then, is not the solution of any problem, but how we approach the problem, because practically all of us have lost the spirit of creative search, creative exploration to discover what is true, which cannot exist if there is any form of acceptance. Please listen to this, but do not merely accept what I say. I am telling you nothing, literally nothing, because wisdom cannot be conveyed through words. You have to discover it for yourself, and to discover it your mind must be free. But your mind is not free, is it? Your mind is obviously hedged about by every form of fear, tradition, hope and anxiety. So, can your mind free itself from fear and tradition, from the accumulated knowledge of a thousand years? Can you put aside all the gurus, the religious teachers, whether ancient or modern, and look at these things for yourself? That is the real problem, is it not? Civilizations and cultures do not bring about religion, they exist for religion, their proper function is to help man to find out what is true, what is God. But you cannot find truth, God if you are not inwardly free. Freedom does not come about through the cultivation of any particular practice, because the moment you practise you are already caught in the `how'. A man who meditates according to a system can never find out what is true; but when the mind becomes aware of the habit in which it is caught and sets about freeing itself from the practice, the thoughtlessness that is perpetually creating habit, such a mind is in meditation. It means really a complete inward revolution - which most of us are not willing to undergo because we want to be respectable. I do not mean the respectability of Mylapore, a suburb of Madras; that is absurd, but the respectability of feeling that we are progressing, advancing spiritually, that we are moral, safe. All this indicates absorption in oneself, does it not? However modified, refined, it is still self-concern. So our problem, not only here but throughout the world, is this: Can the mind free itself from the past, from all its accumulated knowledge - knowledge, not of the machine, not of technology, but the knowledge of what we should be, the theories, the dogmas, the beliefs - and with that freedom consider the whole issue of existence? And when the mind is free from dogma, belief, fear, will there be any problem? After all, what is the mind, the mind which you have? What is your response when you are asked that question? Please experiment with what I am saying, if only for the fun of it. What is your mind? When you are asked such a question, observe how your mind operates. Its instinctive response is to look for an answer, either what Sankara said, or what the modern psychologists say, or what has been said by the scientists or by your favourite guru or newspaper. You are looking for an answer among the various records which you have collected, are you not? You do not observe your own process of thinking, and it is only in watching that process that you find out what the mind is, not by quoting somebody. To find out what the mind is: is that not meditation? If the mind can understand the total process of its own existence, then perhaps it can go beyond itself and discover what is true. But reason and logic are not passionate, vital, and that is why, to understand and transcend itself, the mind must go beyond reason and logic. The mind that is passionate to find out what is true - only such a mind can come to know the whole process of reasoning, with its illusions and falseness, and so transcend itself. A mind that is logical, reasoning, traditional, fearful, may be enthusiastic in terms of a dogma, creed or political formula, it may be keen to bring about a particular reform; but it can never be vitally free to find out what is true. Do experiment with this, because after all, why are you listening to me? If you are listening to find out what is true, you will never find it. If you are listening to be told how to meditate, you will never know meditation. God is not to be found through words, through any book or philosophy, through any of the systems of meditation which you practise. That which is true can only be found from moment to moment, and the mind that has a continuity cannot find it. Our mind is the result of time, is it not? It is the outcome of many yesterdays, an accumulation of both experience and knowledge. The mind as we know it has a continuity, which is memory, so it can only function in time, and with that continuity we approach the timeless, we try to find out what is true; therefore what we find will be in terms of our own continuity, our own habit, our own conclusions. We cannot be free of continuity as long as we do not understand the whole process of the mind, of the `I'. The mind is not separate from the `I'. Whether it is high or low, whether you call it personality, soul, or Atman, the `I' is the self, the mind that is capable of thinking. Please listen to this. As long as your God, Paramatman and all the rest of it, is within the field of thought it is still in time, and therefore it is not true. That is why it is very important to understand the whole process of the mind, not only of the superficial everyday mind, but also of the unconscious. What is true can only be found from moment to moment, it is not a continuity, but the mind which wants to discover it, being itself the product of time, can only function in the field of time; therefore it is incapable of finding what is true. To know the mind, the mind must know itself, for there is no `I' apart from the mind. There are no qualities separate from the mind, just as the qualities of the diamond are not separate from the diamond itself. To understand the mind you cannot interpret it according to somebody else's idea, but you must observe how your own total mind works. When you know the whole process of it -how it reasons, its desires, motives, ambitions, pursuits, its envy, greed and fear - , then the mind can go beyond itself, and when it does there is the discovery of something totally new. That quality of newness gives an extraordinary passion, a tremendous enthusiasm which brings about a deep inward revolution; and it is this inward revolution which alone can transform the world, not any political or economic system. If you listen rightly to what is being said, that very listening is a process of revolution. I assure you of this fact - not that you must accept it, but you will find out for yourself if you listen rightly that there comes an astonishing revolution in your life because you will have discovered the truth, and the truth brings about its own creative enthusiasm, its own creative action from moment to moment. That discovery is the highest form of religion, it is that for which all civilizations exist and every individual strives, and without it we are going to create an appalling world; without it we are going to destroy each other with the hydrogen bomb, and if there are no wars we will destroy each other through separative beliefs, through dogmas, through false gods such as nationalism, through religions that no longer have any meaning but are mere superstition. So the problem is to free the mind to discover what is true, because truth cannot be handed to you by another. You cannot read it in books, it is not contained in any theory, it is not born of speculation nor of experience or the translation of experience. Truth comes into being only when the mind is quiet, utterly still, not hedged about by fear, by hope, by dogmas, by any form of ritual or belief. Mind is still only when it is free, and there is freedom only when the total process of the mind is understood. There are several questions to answer. What is the point of putting a question? Is it to solve the problem or to explore the problem? Do you see the difference? With which are you mostly concerned when you put the question? Are you not mostly concerned with the answer? And when I answer in one way you can go to someone else for a different answer, and then choose the answer according to your judgment, your evaluation, which depends on your conditioning, on your desires and hopes; so you are really wanting the question to be answered to suit your theories and prejudices. But if the question is put in order to explore the problem together and find out what is true, then our relationship is entirely different. Then there is no lecturer, no division of speaker and listener, no guru, sishya, disciple and all that nonsense. Then you and I are two human beings confronted with a problem of which we are unafraid and into which we are inquiring to find out what is true; and such inquiry gives tremendous enthusiasm, does it not? Then the inquiry is neither yours nor mine, neither Hindu, Mussulman, Christian nor Buddhist. There is only the mind that is inquiring to find out what is true. Please, sirs, if you listen to all this very casually it has very little significance; but if you listen to it with your whole being as though your life depended on it, then it will have a totally different meaning. Question: Religious ascetics give up worldly things, political `sanyasis' dedicate themselves to work of various kinds for bettering society, while others are active in their own way to change conditions in the educational, social and political fields. Similarly, the people associated with you. though not belonging to any organization, are apparently dedicated to your work. Is there any difference between all these persons? Krishnamurti: I hope there are none who are dedicated to my work, and that is very important to understand first. You cannot be dedicated to another's work. And what is my work? To publish a few books? Surely not. The inquiry to find out what is true is surely your own work, it is not mine. It is your life, your sorrow and misery that have to be understood, whether you live in a village, in Mylapore, in New York, London or Moscow. If you understand your everyday life as an individual and bring about freedom in yourself, you will create a revolution in the collective will which is called civilization; but if you cannot bring about this fundamental revolution in yourself, which is your own work, then how can you be dedicated to someone else's work? So what is it that we are trying to do? The political reformers, the sanyasis, those who belong to welfare societies, those who serve various Masters, who meditate, who quarrel and then try to be peaceful - what is it that they are all trying to do? Have you ever questioned it? Have you ever asked yourself what it all means? Religious, political and social reform is all part of what is called civilization, is it not? And what is civilization? Surely it is the product of the action of collective will. That is fairly clear. Civilization comes into being through the action of collective will, and that civilization either rises and goes beyond the secular to discover what is ultimately true, or it declines and goes under. There can be a radical revolution in civilization only when there is a fundamental change in the action of collective will, and the action of collective will cannot change if the individual will does not undergo a transformation in itself. So you and I must discover what is true for ourselves, and we cannot discover what is true unless we free ourselves from the collective, which is tradition, the hopes, fears, superstitions and anxieties with which the mind is burdened. But we do not want to do that; all that we want to do is to carry on in the traditional way, hoping by some miracle there will be a revolution that will bring us happiness and peace. There are many social and political reformers, many yogis, swamis and sanyasins, all struggling in their different ways to bring about some kind of change, collective or individual. But change without an understanding of the total process of the mind can only lead to further misery. These reformers, political, social and religious, will only cause more sorrow for man unless man understands the workings of his own mind. In the understanding of the total process of the mind there is a radical inward revolution, and from that inward revolution springs the action of true cooperation, which is not cooperation with a pattern, with authority, with somebody who `knows'. When you know how to cooperate because there is this inward revolution, then you will also know when not to cooperate, which is really very important, perhaps more important. We now cooperate with any person who offers a reform, a change, which only perpetuates conflict and misery; but if we can know what it is to have the spirit of cooperation that comes into being with the understanding of the total process of the mind and in which there is freedom from the self, then there is a possibility of creating a new civilization, a totally different world in which there is no acquisitiveness, no envy, no comparison. This is not a theoretical Utopia but the actual state of the mind that is constantly inquiring and pursuing that which is true and blessed. December 5, 1954. MADRAS 2ND PUBLIC TALK 12TH DECEMBER 1954 I think it must have struck most of us that problems all over the world are on the increase. There is always patchwork reform, a mediocre struggle to solve our many problems, but we do not seem able to solve them in their entirety. And why is it that we human beings keep on suffering indefinitely without ever solving the problem of sorrow? We have explanations for it depending upon our reading, explanations which suit our particular conditioning. If we are Hindus we look at the problem in one way, if we are Christians or Communists we look at it in another, and explanations seem to satisfy the majority of us. This satisfaction, it seems to me, is the fundamental cause of mediocrity - which does not mean that we should reject everything without thought. But the desire to be satisfied does breed a mediocre outlook, a narrow objective, the acceptance of superficial answers to our immense problems, and if we could deliberately and radically set aside the desire for satisfaction and go behind the verbal explanations, then I think we should be able to solve our many problems. So, if I may ask, with what desire, with what intention are you listening to me? Are you listening merely for an answer, or to find out if you and I together can investigate some of the many problems that confront us and discover the truth for ourselves irrespective of any authority, of any book or ideology? If we can so explore our human problems, then I think the narrow walls of mediocrity will be broken down and the desire to accept things as they are with patchwork reform here and there will give way to a radical inward revolution. Though many of our problems are petty, superficial, if we are to solve them fundamentally is it not very important to ask fundamental questions? In understanding the fundamental, the superficial will be solved; but if we ask questions merely with the desire to find the most satisfactory explanation, this satisfaction will not fundamentally alter our struggles, fears and sorrows. Most of us just intellectually enjoy quoting a few phrases from Marx or the Bhagavad Gita, we like to show our knowledge or offer reasons why we should support a certain form of society, or a certain religious or political movement, and that is why we never find a fundamental answer to our many problems. Please, if I may point out, this is quite an important issue, you cannot just brush it aside and go on to something else; you must really ponder over it. In asking fundamental questions, will you not solve the so-called superficial, the immediate social problems? It all depends on how we ask, does it not? A petty mind can ask a fundamental question, but its answer will be very superficial because such a mind will not know how to penetrate, how to explore, inquire into the question, and it will accept an answer that is reasonable and logically satisfying. So, when we do ask fundamental questions - questions like what is God, what is death, what is this conflict, this contradiction within oneself? - , is it not very important for each one of us to observe how easily we are satisfied by some explanation, whether psychological, sociological or religious? And is it possible to explore a fundamental question without accepting or being satisfied with any superficial response? Now, let us take the problem of self-contradiction and see whether we can explore it in this way; for if we can understand the contradiction within ourselves, then perhaps we shall be able a understand the contradiction in relationship, which is society. What brings about self-contradiction, this dual morality, this conflict within oneself? Most of us, I am sure, are unaware of it. When we are aware of it, it is a torture, and then begins the process of trying to overcome the contradiction, of trying to find a synthesis in the conflict between thesis and antithesis. Can the mind think without contradiction, without this conflict of the opposites? Is it capable of thinking without an ideal? It is the ideal that brings about the contradiction, is it not? And yet all our philosophies, all our religions insist on ideals as a means of improvement, as a means of change. Can the mind cease to think in terms of what should be, which is the ideal, and be free to pursue what is? Can it give complete attention to what is and not be distracted by what should be, the ideal? It is really very important to follow this to the end, actually experience it, and not merely consider it intellectually. Why is there in all of us this contradiction? Do you understand what I mean by contradiction? It is the inner conflict between what is and what should be, the ceaseless attempt to better oneself, the constant comparison of oneself with another. And can the mind function without comparison? Does understanding come about through comparison and condemnation? Is it not very important for each one of us to understand these fundamental issues directly and not just accept what another says? It is our own lives we are concerned with, and if we do not understand the fundamental issues, merely to indulge in political or social reform has very little significance. What is needed, surely, is an integrated outlook, which does not come about through conflict, adjustment or resistance, but only when the mind understands the whole problem of self-contradiction. Is it not also very important to find out for ourselves if there is such a thing as God? If we are able to find out what is God, truth, or what name you will, it may bring about a fundamental revolution in our inward lives which will then express itself outwardly; but surely that requires some freedom, and the mind is not free when it is burdened with knowledge. Therefore the whole conception of experiencing reality through knowledge becomes utterly fallacious, does it not? Mere description of what God is, the belief or the knowledge you have acquired in reading various religious books, or the rejection of these things because you happen to be an atheist, a non-believer - is not all this an impediment to discovery? Must not the mind be free to explore, and is the mind free when it is burdened with knowledge, with the dogmas of belief or non-belief? After all, what is it that we call religion? When you really come to think of it, it is nothing but a formulation of rituals and dogmatic beliefs, and whether the dogma is Christian or Hindu, Buddhist or Communist, is of very little significance. So merely to ask what God or truth is, is not the solution, because different people will give you different answers and you will choose the one which is most rational, most convenient or satisfactory; but that is not the discovery of God or truth. It requires extraordinary insight to put aside all authority, all knowledge, and discover for yourself what is true. Knowledge is useful only as a means of communication or as a means of action. Before you act you must first be capable of investigating, must you not? In action you need knowledge. But can a mind burdened with knowledge discover what is true? Or must it be free of knowledge so as to investigate, and use knowledge only after discovery? With most of us knowledge has become a hindrance because we think that by reading certain books, attending certain talks and all the rest of the nonsense, we shall find out what is truth. To discover what is truth the mind must be stripped naked, must it not? Surely that is the fundamental question one must ask and explore for oneself. I feel that the present world crisis is not merely social or economic, but much more fundamental. If you look within yourself and about you, you will see how little creative thinking there is, how little understanding. Most so-called thinking is not original, it is merely repetitive, what Sankara, Buddha, Christ, Marx or somebody else has said. Actually to put aside all authority, all books and try to find out for oneself what is true, requires a great deal of creative intelligence, does it not? Acceptance may merely be the reaction of a conditioned mind; so is it not important, not only to ask what is truth, what is God, but to explore the question directly for oneself? And to do that, must not the mind be free from all conditioning, Hindu Buddhist Christian, Communist, or any other This requires a tremendous inward revolution, rebellion against everything, does it not? It demands revolt, not for revolt's sake, but a revolt which sets the mind free to discover. When we talk about revolt, we generally mean revolt according to a certain formula, do we not? We revolt in order to bring about adjustment to a chosen pattern of thought, or to establish a particular type of society. What we call revolt is a process of resistance, suppression. Now, can the mind revolt without accepting any formula, the formula being a reaction, a conditioned response? Can it put all that aside and discover what is truth? It is only such revolt that brings about creative thinking, creative understanding, and that is what is essential now, not more leaders, spiritual or political. Each one of us must actually discover for himself what is truth, and we cannot find out what is truth unless we are in total rebellion. You listen to all this, you shake your heads in assent, but if you merely go home and carry on as before it will have no meaning. You see, sirs, unless we accept the challenge of the new we are already dead; and the mind cannot understand the new if it is not free, if it is burdened with a particular belief or formula. So, can the mind be in total revolution and not merely accept and be satisfied with an economic revolution such as the Communists offer? Can there be a total revolution in our thinking? It seems to me that our only salvation is to be a light unto ourselves. A ship which is anchored cannot go out to sea, and a mind which is tethered to any belief or ideology is incapable of discovering what is truth. One must become conscious, aware that one's mind is entrenched in certain forms of security, not only physically but much more psychologically, that is caught in phrases, in beliefs, in ideas, in various manifestations of fear. Acceptance of a belief may give us great satisfaction, a sense of security, and in that security there is a certain power; but such a mind obviously cannot find out what is truth. It may repeat what Sankara, Buddha or other ancient teachers have said, but that is not individual, creative discovery. Not to seek any form of psychological security, any form of gratification, requires investigation, constant watchfulness to see how the mind operates; and surely that is meditation, is it not? Meditation is not the practice of a formula, or the repetition of certain words, which is all silly, immature. Without knowing the whole process of the mind, conscious as well as unconscious, any form of meditation is really a hindrance, an escape, a childish activity; it is a form of self-hypothesis. But to be aware of the process of thinking, to go into it carefully step by step with full consciousness and discover for oneself the ways of the self - that is meditation. It is only through self-knowledge that the mind can be free to discover what is truth, what is God, what is death, what is this thing that we call living. Do you understand, sirs? Why do we suffer, why do we obey, why is there this conflict within ourselves and in society? After all, living for most of us is suffering, it is a constant battle or the boredom of a routine. And is that life? The desire for fulfilment with its frustrations, the battle of ambition with its fear and ruthlessness, this constant struggle within oneself and with one's neighbour, the agony of relationship - is this living? Or have we created this appalling society because we do not understand what living is? So is it not important to find out the real significance of all these things? And can the mind find out? What is the mind, the mind that is capable of reason, logic? Reason and logic depend on memory, memory being conditioned by past experience; and can such a mind discover what is truth? Or is the discovery of truth possible only when the mind understands the whole process of experience, of memory, of knowledge, reason and logic, and by going beyond itself brings about a stillness in which reality can be? But it is impossible for a mind that is everlastingly caught in the acquisition of knowledge and experience to discover what is truth. All this raises an immense question: whether you are really an individual, or merely a movement of the collective. Civilization, whether Hindu, Christian or Communist, is obviously the result of the collective will, and a mind which is absorbed in the collective can never find out what is truth. To be an individual the mind must understand and be free of the collective, and only then is it capable of discovering the highest. This means really a total revolution, because the collective is tradition, belief, knowledge, experience, and the authority of the book. Unless we understand these problems fundamentally, mere reformation becomes further misery. Have you not noticed that politicians all over the world are trying to establish peace and yet preparing for war? Every problem they touch brings other problems, and so it is in our own lives. There is a multitude of problems, a multitude of sorrows, and never a moment of deep happiness, of quietness, of full rejoicing. Happiness and enduring peace cannot be brought about by any legislation, by any superficial reform. When the mind, being aware of itself and knowing its collective movement, is in total revolution against the collective and is therefore discovering its own incorruptibility -only then is it able to discover what is truth, and this discovery is the only solution to all our human problems. Question: What is the true spirit of cooperation? If it is not born of a common work or a common interest, then how does it arise? Krishnamurti: Sirs, what is it that you call cooperation? You cooperate with authority, with those who you think have the right ideas, the right plan, do you not? Is that cooperation? When you accept and cooperate with any kind of authority, is that cooperation? When you drive on the left as the law requires, are you co-operating? Surely we must first find out what we mean by that word. If we understand what cooperation is we shall also know when not to cooperate, and both are important, for to cooperate with another under certain circumstances may lead to destruction and misery. To cooperate is to work together, is it not? But if there is a plan, a blueprint enforced by authority, that is not cooperation, it is merely compulsion. Working together through tear, through reward, through necessity, through enforcement is obviously not co-operation. Then what is cooperation and how does it come into being? Now, is there a form of cooperation in which you and I are capable of working together without authority? We may build a house together, and for that a blueprint, the architect's plan is necessary, but what you do and what I do is not psychologically important to us. I may carry the bricks and you may put them in place, but our intention is to build the house together and therefore there is no authority, no compulsion. We cooperate because we want to work together to produce something. Can you and I work together in that spirit? Surely this is not a Hindu world, nor a Communist world, nor an English or American world. This earth is ours, it is yours and mine to live in, a place to work and build together, and what you do in building, matters as infinitely as what I do. Can we be free of nationalistic twaddle, of racial and religious separatism and have this spirit of cooperation in building together? This is entirely different from the so-called cooperation through any form of compulsion or fear of punishment, is it not? It really means the absence of the self, of the `me'. And when there is this spirit of cooperation there is at the same time an awareness of when not to cooperate, which is equally important. When a leader comes along and offers some marvellous utopian plan, a complete sociological revolution without a fundamental inner revolution, should one cooperate with such a person? And when there is a total revolution of one's whole being, is there not cooperation in which one is not out for one, self, in which one is not ambitious? Surely this is the revolution of love, which is not mere sentiment, not just a word; therefore it is capable of cooperating, and also of not cooperating when cooperation is futile. Question: You have talked about entering the house of death while living. Can one experience the feeling of dying while still alive? Krishnamurti: Most of us are interested in finding out what happens when we die, are we not? You want to know what happens after death; but I think that is a wrong question, because then you are satisfied by mere explanations. The explanation of reincarnation may satisfy you more than any other, but it is still only an explanation. The mind frightened by death accepts a belief that gives it continuity. Surely, our living is a form of death because we are strangely afraid of dying, inwardly fearful of the uncertainty which lies beyond. But if we put the question differently, perhaps we can find the right answer. Can one while living, while full of life and vigour, being alert and fully conscious, enter the house of death? Can you experience death, not at the moment of unconsciousness when the physical organism is gone, but while living, conscious, wide awake? What is death? I am not going to give an explanation of what happens with the ending of the physical organism, whether the psychological mind, the bundle of instinctive responses, racial, inherited and acquired, continues as memory. You can inquire into that and there will be innumerable answers which will satisfy you. But surely that is not the discovery of what death is. Can you while living - putting away all the fears, the longings, the explanations, the hope that there will be a continuity, and so on - find out what death is? The acceptance of any form of belief as to what death is, is not the solution. The mind that is satisfied, that has some kind of psychological security is incapable of finding out the truth about death, is it not? So, what is death? We know the obvious physical cessation. Is that all? Can you strip the mind of all the things you have learnt about death, the knowledge you have acquired from books, the beliefs that have given you comfort in the hope that you will continue? Explanations have no value because they do not give you the real significance of death. Can you put them all aside and find out what death is? Can the mind be unburdened of all knowledge with regard to death? Only then is it free to find out what death is, is it not? After all, you do not know what death is, do you? And to find out what death is, must not your mind free itself of all knowledge and say, `I do not know'? In the presence of something it does not know is it not important to find out if the mind is capable of saying, `I do not know'? Do you understand, sirs? You have explanations of death based on your hopes, fears and prejudices, on what other people have said or on your own desire to continue; but that is not the experiencing of what death is, is it? The fact is that you do not know; and can you really, honestly say that you do not know? When the mind can say, `I do not know', has it not already freed itself from the known, and is it not therefore capable of understanding the unknown, which is death? After all, we are afraid of death because we cling to the known. Death is the unknown, and we function only within the field of the known. `My name', `my family', `my job', `my virtue', `my temperament' - all that is in the field of the known, in which the mind functions and has its being. Now, can the mind free itself from the known, from the past, from all tradition, from all knowledge? And when it does, is not the mind in a state of not knowing? Being free from the known, is it not capable of understanding or experiencing the unknown, which is death? If we can experience the unknown immediately and directly, it will have an extraordinary significance in our relationships; then we shall create quite a different social order. Our present society, whether communist or capitalist, is based on acquisitiveness; there may not be the acquisitiveness of property, but there is the acquisitiveness of power, position, prestige. A man who really understands this problem of death is no longer concerned with acquisition in any form; though he may hold a little property, his mind has lost its acquisitiveness. There, fore it is really very important to understand these fundamental issues, because in understanding them we shall experience an inward revolution which will have a far reaching effect in our social relationships. To bring about social reformation in any form without this inward revolution will not solve our problems, because our problems are much deeper, they are much more psychological than economic. Now, sirs, you have listened for nearly an hour, and what will you do about it? If you merely go back to your old routine you will be incapable of responding to the challenge of the new. The world is in a tremendous, unprecedented crisis, and if you merely act as the collective your response will not be new, therefore it will not produce that creative action which the challenge demands. Your response can be new only when you are completely out of your tradition, when you are no longer a Hindu, a Christian, a Buddhist or a Communist, when you no longer belong to any particular society. Only then are you capable of being free and therefore responding truly. December 12, 1954. BANARAS 1ST PUBLIC TALK 9TH JANUARY 1955 If we can begin by considering what it is to be serious, then perhaps our investigation into the whole process of our thinking and responding to the various challenges of life will have deeper significance. What do we mean by being serious? And are we ever really serious? Most of us think very superficially, we never sustain a particular intention and carry it through, because we have so many contradictory desires, each desire pulling in a different direction. One moment we are serious about something, and the next it is forgotten and we pursue a different object at a different level. And is it possible to maintain an integrated outlook towards life? I think this is a fairly important question to consider cause I wonder how many of us are serious at all? Or are we serious only about those things which give us satisfaction and have but a temporary meaning? So I think it would be very interesting, not merely to listen to a talk which I happen to be giving, but earnestly to try to find out together what it means to be serious. When a petty mind gives its effort to being serious, its seriousness is bound to be very shallow, because it is without any understanding of the deeper significance of its own process. One may give one's energies to a particular object, spiritual or mundane, but as long as the mind remains petty, complex, without any understanding of itself, its serious activities will have very little significance. That is why it seems to me very important, especially at this time when there are so many complex problems, so many challenges, that a few of us at least should have a sustained interest in trying to find out if it is possible to be earnest or serious without being distracted by the superficial activities of the mind. I don't know if you are interested in this problem, but it is surely quite important to find out why most people are not really serious; because it is only a serious mind that can pursue a particular activity to its end and discover its significance. If one is to be capable of action which is integral one must understand the ways of one's own mind, and without that understanding, merely to be serious has very little meaning. I wonder if any of you are following all this, and whether I am explaining myself? We see the disintegrating process that is going on in the world. The old social order is breaking down, the various religious organizations, the beliefs, the moral and ethical structures in which we have been brought up, are all failing. Throughout our so-called civilization, whether Indian, European, or whatever it be, there is corruption, and every form of useless activity is being carried on. So, is it possible for you and me to be aware of this whole process of disintegration and, stepping out of it as individuals, be serious in our intention to create a totally different kind of world, a different kind of culture, civilization? Do you think we could discuss this instead of my giving a talk? The problem is this: being caught up in this social, religious and moral disintegration, how can we as individuals break away and create a different world, a different social order, a different way of looking it life? Is this a problem to any of you, or are you content merely to observe this disintegration and respond to if in the habitual manner? Can we this evening discuss this problem together, think it right through and resolve it in ourselves? Do you think it would be profitable to discuss what we mean by change? Questioner: Let us discuss seriousness. Krishnamurti: What do we mean by seriousness? To be serious, to be earnest, surely implies the capacity to find out what is true. Can I find out what is true if my mind is tethered to any particular point of view? If it is bound by knowledge, by belief, if it is caught in the conditioning influences that are constantly impinging upon it, can the mind discover anything new? Does not seriousness imply the total application of one's mind to any problem of life? Can a mind which is only partially attentive, which is contradictory within itself, however much it may attempt to be serious, ever respond adequately to the challenge of life? Is a mind that is torn by innumerable desires, each pulling in a different direction, capable of discovering what is true, however much it may try? And is it not therefore very important to have self-knowledge, to be serious in the process of understanding the self with all its contradictions? Can we discuss that? Questioner: Would you kindly tell us if life and the problems of life are the same? Krishnamurti: Can you separate the problems of life from life itself? Is life different from the problems which life awakens in us? Let us take that one question and follow it right through. Questioner: What about the atomic and the hydrogen bombs? Can we discuss that? Krishnamurti: That involves the whole problem of war and how to prevent war, does it not? Can we discuss that so as to clarify our own minds, pursue it seriously, earnestly, to the end and thereby know the truth of the matter completely? What do we mean by peace? Is peace the opposite, the antithesis of war? If there were no war, would we have peace? Are we pursuing peace, or is what we call peace merely a space between two contradictory activities? Do we really want peace, not only at one level, economic or spiritual, but totally? Or is it that we are continually at war within ourselves, and therefore outwardly? If we wish to prevent war we must obviously take certain steps, which really means having no frontiers of the mind, because belief creates enmity. If you believe in Communism and I believe in Capitalism, or if you are a Hindu and I am a Christian, obviously there is antagonism between us. So, if you and I desire peace, must we not abolish all the frontiers of the mind? Or do we merely want peace in terms of satisfaction, maintaining the status quo after achieving a certain result? You see, I don't think it is possible for individuals to stop war. War is like a giant mechanism that, having been set going, has gathered great momentum, and probably it will go on and we shall be crushed, destroyed in the process. But if one wishes to step out of that mechanism, the whole machinery of war, what is one to do? That is the problem, is it not? Do we really want to stop war, inwardly as well as outwardly? After all, war is merely the dramatic outward expression of our inward struggle, is it not? And can each one of us cease to be ambitious? Because as long as we are ambitious we are ruthless, which inevitably produces conflict between ourselves and other individuals, as well as between one group or nation and another. This means, really, that as long as you and I are seeking power in any direction, power being evil, we must produce wars. And is it possible for each one of us to investigate the process of ambition, of competition, of wanting to be somebody in the field of power, and put an end to it? It seems to me that only then can we as individuals step out of this culture, this civilization that is producing wars. Let us discuss this. Can we as individuals put an end in ourselves to the causes of war? One of the causes is obviously belief, the division of ourselves as Hindus, Buddhists Christians, Communists, or Capitalists. Can we put all that aside? Questioner: All the problems of life are unreal, and there must be something real on which we can rely. What is that reality? Krishnamurti: Do you think the real and the unreal can so easily be divided? Or does the real come into being only when I begin to understand what is unreal? Have you even considered what the unreal is? G pain unreal? Is death unreal? If you lose your bank account, is that unreal? A man who says, `All this is unreal, therefore let us find the real', is escaping from reality. Can you and I put an end in ourselves to the factors that contribute to war within and without? Let us discuss that, not merely verbally, but really investigate it, go into it earnestly and see if we can eradicate in ourselves the cause of hate, of enmity, this sense of superiority, ambition, and all the rest of it. Can we eradicate all this? If we really want peace, it must be eradicated, must it not? If you would find out what is real, what is God, what is truth, you must have a very quiet mind; and can you have a quiet mind if you are ambitious, envious, if you are greedy for power, position, and all that? So, if you are really earnest, really serious in wanting to understand what is true, must not these things be put away? Does not earnestness, seriousness consist in understanding the process of the mind, of the self, which creates all these problems, and dissolving it? Questioner: How can we uncondition ourselves? Krishnamurti: But I am showing you! What is conditioning? It is the tradition that has been imposed upon you from childhood, or the beliefs, the experiences, the knowledge that one has accumulated for oneself. They are all conditioning the mind. Now, before we go into the more complex aspects of the question, can you cease to be a Hindu, with all its implications, so that your mind is capable of thinking, responding, not according to a modified Hinduism, but completely anew? Can there be in you a total revolution so that the mind is fresh, clear, and therefore capable of investigation? That is a very simple question. I can give a talk about it, but it will have no meaning if you merely listen and then go away agreeing or disagreeing. Whereas, if you and I can discuss this problem and go through it together to the very end, then perhaps our talking will be worth while. So, can you and I who wish to have peace, or who talk about peace, eradicate in ourselves the causes of antagonism, of war? Shall we discuss that? Questioner: Are individuals impotent against the atomic and hydrogen bombs? Krishnamurti: They are going on experimenting with these bombs in America, in Russia and elsewhere, and what can you and I do about it? So what is the point of discussing this matter? You may try to create public opinion by writing to the papers about how terrible it is, but will that stop the governments from investigating and creating the H-bomb? Are they not going to go on with it anyhow? They may use atomic energy for peaceful as well as destructive purposes, and probably within five or ten years they will have factories running on atomic energy; but they will also be preparing for war. They may limit the use of atomic weapons, but the momentum of war is there, and what can we do? Historical events are in movement, and I don't think you and I living here in Benaras can stop that movement. Who is going to care? But what we can do is something completely different. We can step out of the present machinery of society, which is constantly preparing for war, and perhaps by our own total inward revolution we shall be able to contribute to the building of a civilization which is altogether new. After all, what is civilization? What is the Indian or the European civilization? It is an expression of the collective will, is it not? The will of the many has created this present civilization in India; and cannot you and I break away from it and think entirely differently about these matters? Is it not the responsibility of serious people to do this? Must there not be serious people who see this process of destruction going on in the world, who investigate it, and who step out of it in the sense of not being ambitious and all the rest of it? What else can we do? But you see, we are not willing to be serious, that is the difficulty. We don't want to tackle ourselves, we want to discuss something outside, far away. Questioner: There must be some people who are very serious, and have they solved their problems or the problems of the world? Krishnamurti: That is not a serious question, is it? It is like my saying that others have eaten when I myself am hungry. If I am hungry I will inquire where food is to be had, and to say that others are well fed is irrelevant, it indicates that I am not really hungry. Whether there are serious people who have solved their problems is not important. Have you and I solved our problems? That is much more important, is it not? Can a few of us discuss this matter very seriously, earnestly pursue it and see what we can do, not merely intellectually, verbally, but actually? Questioner: Is it really possible for us to escape the impact of modern civilization? Krishnamurti: What is modern civilization? Here in India it is an ancient culture on which have been superimposed certain layers of Western culture like nationalism, science, parliamentarianism, militarism, and so on. Now, either we shall be absorbed by this civilization, or we must break away and create a different civilization altogether. It is an unfortunate thing that we are so eager merely to listen, because we listen in the most superficial manner, and that seems to be sufficient for most of us. Why does it seem so extraordinarily difficult for us seriously to discuss and to eradicate in ourselves the things that are causing antagonism and war? Questioner: We have to consider the immediate problem. Krishnamurti: But in considering the immediate problem you will find that it has deep roots, it is the result of causes which lie within ourselves. So, to resolve the immediate problem, should you not investigate the deeper problems? Questioner: There is only one problem, and that is to find out what is the end of life. Krishnamurti: Can we discuss that really seriously, go into it completely, so that we know for ourselves what is the end of life? What is life all about, where is it leading? That is the question, not what is the purpose of life. If we merely seek a definition of the purpose of life, you will define it in one way and I in another, and we shall wrongly choose which is the better definition according to our idiosyncrasies. Surely that is not what the questioner means. He wants to know what is the end of all this struggle, this search, this constant battle, this coming together and parting, birth and death. What is the whole of existence leading to? What does it mean? Now, what is this thing which we call life? We know life only through self-consciousness, do we not? I know I am alive because I speak, I think, I eat, I have various contradictory desires, conscious and unconscious, various compulsions, ambitions, and so on. It is only when I am conscious of these, that is, as long as I am self-conscious, that I know I am alive. And what do we mean by being self-conscious? Surely, I am self-conscious only when there is some kind of conflict; otherwise I am unconscious of myself. When I am thinking, making effort, arguing, discussing, putting it this way or that, I am self-conscious. The very nature of self-consciousness is contradiction. Consciousness is a total process, it is the hidden as well as the active, the open. Now, what does this process of consciousness mean, and where is it leading? We know birth and death, belief, struggle, pain, hope, ceaseless conflict. What is the significance of it all? To find out its true significance is what we are trying to do. And one can find out its true significance only when the mind is capable of investigation, that is, when it is not anchored to any conclusion. Is that not so? Questioner: Is it investigation, or reinvestigation? Krishnamurti: There is reinvestigation only when the mind is tethered, repetitive, and therefore constantly reinvestigating itself. But to be free to investigate, to find out what is true, surely that requires a mind that is not held in the bondage of any conclusion. Now, can you and I find out what is the significance of this whole struggle with all its ramifications? If that is one's intention and one is serious, earnest, can one's mind have any conclusion about it? Must one not be open to this confusion? Must one not investigate it with a free mind to find out what is true? So, what is important is not the problem, but to see if it is possible for the mind to be free to investigate and find out the truth of it. Can the mind be free from all conclusions? A conclusion is merely the response of a particular conditioning, is it not? Take the conclusion of reincarnation. Whether reincarnation is factual or not is irrelevant. Why do you have that conclusion? Is it because the mind is afraid of death? Such a mind, believing in a certain conclusion which is the result of fear, hope, longing, is obviously incapable of discovering what is true with regard to death. So, if we are at all serious our first problem, even before we ask what this whole process of life means, is to find out whether the mind can be free from all conclusions. Questioner: Do you mean that for serious thinking the mind must be completely empty? Krishnamurti: What do we mean by freedom? What does it mean to be free? You assume that if the mind is free, not tethered to any conclusion, it is in a state of vacuum. But is it? We are trying to find out the truth of what is a free mind. Is a mind free that has concluded? If I read Shankara, Buddha, Einstein, Marx - it does not matter who it is - and reach a conclusion or believe in a certain system of thought, is my mind free to investigate? Questioner: Has comparison no place in the process of investigation? Krishnamurti: Comparing what? Comparing one conclusion with another, one belief with another? I want to find out the significance of this whole process of life with its struggle, its pain, its misery, its wars, its appalling poverty, cruelty, enmity; I want to find out the truth of all that. To do so must I not have a mind that is capable of investigation? And can the mind investigate if it has a conclusion, or compares one conclusion with another? Questioner: Can a mind be called free if it has only a tentative conclusion? Krishnamurti: Tentative or permanent, a conclusion is already a bondage, is it not? Do please think with me a little. If one wants to find out whether there is such a thing as God, what generally happens? By reading certain books, or listening to the arguments of some learned person, one is persuaded that there is God, or one becomes a Communist and is persuaded that there isn't. But it one wants to find out the truth of the matter, can one belong to either side? Must not one's mind be free from all speculation, from all knowledge, all belief? Now, how is the mind to be free? Will the mind ever be free if it follows a method to be free? Can any method, any practice, any system, however noble, however new or tried out for centuries, make the mind free? Or does the method merely condition the mind in a particular way, which we then call freedom? The method will produce its own results, will it not? And when the mind seeks a result through a method, the result being freedom, will such a mind be free? Look, suppose one has a particular belief, a belief in God, or what you will. Must one not find out how that belief has come into being? This does not mean that you must not believe; but why do you believe? Why does the mind say, `This is so'? And can the mind discover how beliefs came into being? You see insecurity in everything about you, and you believe in a Master, in reincarnation, because that belief gives you hope, a sense of security, does it not? And can a mind that is seeking security ever be free? Do you follow? The mind is seeking security, permanency, it is moved by a desire to be safe; and can such a mind be free to find out what is true? To find out what is true, must not the mind let go of its beliefs, put away it's desire to be secure? And is there a method by which to let go of the beliefs which give you hope, a sense of security? You see this is what I mean by being serious. Questioner: Are there periods of freedom in the conditioned mind? Krishnamurti: Are there periods or gaps of freedom in the conditioned mind? Which is it that you are aware of, the freedom or the conditioned mind? Please take this question seriously. Our minds are conditioned, that is obvious. One's mind conditioned as a Hindu, as a Communist, this or that. Now can the conditioned mind ever know freedom, or only what it imagines to be freedom? And can you be aware of how your own mind is conditioned? Surely, that is our problem, not what freedom is. Can you just be aware of your conditioning, which is to see that your mind functions in a particular manner? We are not talking of how to alter it, how to bring about a change; that is not the question. Your mind functions as a Hindu or a Communist; it believes in something. Are you aware of that? Questioner: Freedom is not an acquisition but a gift. Krishnamurti: That is a supposition. If freedom were a gift it would only be for the chosen few, and that would be intolerable. Do you mean to say that you and I cannot think it out to be free? You see sir, that is what I am saying: we are not serious. To know how one is conditioned is the first step towards freedom. But do we know how we are conditioned? When you make a red mark on your forehead, when you put on the sacred thread, do puja, or follow some leader, are not those the activities of a conditioned mind? And can you drop all that so that in dropping it you will find out what is true? That is why it is only to the serious that truth is shown, not to those who are merely seeking security and are caught in some form of conclusion. I am just saying that when the mind tethered to any particular conclusion, whether temporary or permanent, it is incapable of discovering something new. Questioner: A scientist has data. Is he prepared to give up that data? Krishnamurti Are you talking as a scientist or as a human being? Even the poor scientist, if he wants to discover anything, has to put aside his knowledge and conclusions, because they will colour any discovery. Sir, to find out we must die to the things we know. Questioner: Can the unconditioning of the mind be done at the conscious or unconscious level, or both? Krishnamurti: Sir, what is the mind? There is the conscious mind and the unconscious mind. The conscious mind is occupied with the everyday duties, it observes, thinks, argues, attends to a job, and so on. But are we aware of the unconscious mind? The unconscious mind is the repository of racial instinct, it is the residue of this civilization, of this culture, in which there are certain urges, various forms of compulsion. And can this whole mind, the unconscious as well as the conscious, uncondition itself? Now, why do we divide the mind as the conscious and the unconscious? Is there such a definite barrier between the conscious and the unconscious mind? Or are we so taken up with the conscious mind that we have never considered or been open to the unconscious? And can the conscious mind investigate, probe into the unconscious, or is it only when the conscious mind is quiet that the unconscious promptings, hints, urges, compulsions come into being? So, the unconditioning of the mind is not a process of the conscious or of the unconscious; it is a total process which comes about with the earnest intention to find out if your mind is conditioned. Please look at this and experiment with it. What is important is the total, earnest intention to find out if your mind is conditioned, so that you discover your conditioning and do not just say that your mind is or is not conditioned. When you look into a mirror you see your face as it is; you may wish that some parts of it were different, but the actual fact is shown in the mirror. Now, can you look at your conditioning in a similar way? Can you be totally aware of your conditioning without the desire to alter it? You are not aware of it totally when you wish to change it, when you condemn it or compare it with something else. But when you can look at the fact of your conditioning without comparison, without judgment, then you are seeing it as a total thing, and only then is there a possibility of freeing the mind from that conditioning. You see, when the mind is totally aware of its conditioning, there is only the mind, there is no `you' separate from the mind. But when the mind is only partially aware of its conditioning, it divides itself, it dislikes its conditioning, or says it is a good thing; and as long as there is condemnation, judgment, or comparison, there is incomplete understanding of conditioning, and therefore the perpetuation of that conditioning. Whereas, if the mind is aware of its conditioning without condemning or judging, but merely watching it, then there is a total perception; and you will find, if you so perceive it, that the mind frees itself from that conditioning. This is what I mean by being serious. Experiment with this, not just casually, but seriously watch your mind in action all the time, when you are at the dinner table, when you are talking, so that your mind becomes entirely aware of all its activities. Then only can there be freedom from conditioning, and therefore the total stillness of the mind in which alone it is possible to find out what is truth. If there is not that stillness which is the outcome of a total understanding of conditioning, your search for truth has no meaning at all, it is merely a trap to fall into. January 9, 1955 BANARAS 2ND PUBLIC TALK 16TH JANUARY 1955 If we could pursue earnestly and deeply the question of self-contradiction, perhaps it might have great significance in our daily existence. Why is it that human beings are torn by self-contradiction? Why is there in most of us such compulsion, resistance, and this constant demand to adjust oneself to a particular pattern? I don't know if any of us are at all aware of this contradiction within ourselves, but I think it would be very profitable and worth while if we could seriously go into the matter, because this may be the clue to the integrated action which is so obviously essential to a creative, a completely good life. Unless one is deeply aware of this contradiction within oneself, sees from where it springs and finds out whether one can really efface it, mere patchwork reform, either political, religious, or any other, can only lead to further mischief. I think it is very important for us to understand this, because our understanding of it may be the solution to all the ills that surround us - which are the result of our own self-contradictory nature, are they not? Most of us are driven by various compulsions, various desires which are contradictory, and even if we are aware of this contradiction in ourselves, we never seem able fundamentally, deeply to trace and eradicate the cause of it. And it seems to me that if we can understand what it is to have an integrated life, a completely good life, a life in which there is no contradiction, no compulsion of any kind, no resistance, no form of adjustment to a pattern, then perhaps we shall be able to create a new culture, a new civilization, which is after all what the world in its present state of conflict is demanding. To respond adequately to the challenge of life, one must be entirely integrated. How is this integration to be brought about? And why are we torn by self-contradiction? Most of us are not aware of this contradiction. We blindly force ourselves into a particular pattern of action, or we follow an ideal; we are full of tensions, of conflicting desires, wanting to do one thing and doing the opposite, thinking along one line and acting in a totally different manner, and we are unconscious of this self-contradiction. We either justify or condemn what we do, and that very judgment is another contradiction in ourselves. Now, if one can listen to what is being said, not analytically or to achieve an integrated state, but listen without any opinion, without the accumulation of previous conclusions, that is, if one can listen innocently, with a fresh mind, then perhaps what is being said will have significance. Otherwise it will become another opinion, another theory, something to be carried out; and in the very carrying out of an idea one has already created a contradiction in oneself. The mere acceptance of a new idea is a contradiction of what has already been established, and it only further increases the struggle; but if we can totally understand what is contradiction and how it comes about, then in the very act of listening, integration will take place without any struggle. I think it is very important to understand that merely to accept a new idea, a new philosophy, a new teaching, only creates a contradiction with what already exists, and then the problem arises of how to bridge the old with the new, or how to interpret the new in terms of the old. So, is it possible to listen without creating this contradiction between the new and the old? Can one discover for oneself how contradiction arises, and merely see the fact without making the fact into an idea, an opinion, thereby creating another contradiction? That is the problem: can you listen to what is being said and perceive the new fact without making it into an idea or a conclusion as opposed to the old, thereby creating a further contradiction within yourself? Surely, this is sufficiently important to discuss a little: how the mind, being conditioned, never looks at a new fact without either interpreting, judging, or having a conclusion about it. And can the mind look at the new fact without a conclusion? Which means, really, can the mind be free of conditioning, cease to think in terms of a Hindu, a Buddhist, or a Christian, and look at the new fact without interpretation? If it can, then perhaps there will be an action which is not contradictory. Now, how does this contradiction arise in each one of us? Does it not arise when the mind is incapable of a fresh response to the new, that is, when the mind is conditioned? Our minds are conditioned by the Hindu culture or the Western culture, by religion, by certain patterns of thought, by the weight of knowledge acquired through education or experience, that very experience being the response of a particular conditioning. Such a mind obviously cannot adequately respond to the new, and hence the contradiction. Life is a process of the new all the time, continuously. It is like a flowing river. The waters of the river may look the same, but there is a continuous flow, a constant change; and if the mind is incapable of responding fully to the flow of life, or if it responds to this ceaseless movement in terms of its conditioning, then there must be contradiction, not only in the superficial mind, but also in the deeper layers of consciousness. So our problem is not how to be integrated, but rather to find out if the conditioned mind can uncondition itself. Can the Hindu mind, if there is such a thing, with its religiosity, its superstitions, its patterns of thought, its social impacts, unburden itself of all this conditioning? Only then, surely, can it fully respond to the new and thereby free itself from self-contradiction. But most of us are concerned, not with unconditioning the mind, but rather with a better, a wider, a nobler conditioning. The Christian wants the mind to be conditioned in a certain pattern, and so does the Communist, the Hindu, the Buddhist, and so on. They are all concerned with bettering the mind's conditioning, decorating the interior of the prison, and not with breaking away from the prison totally. And is it possible to break away totally from one's conditioning? The question is not put for you to say `yes' or `no', because such an answer has no meaning. But if each one of us really desires to find out whether the mind can be free from the past, which is to understand the whole content of the mind, then I think it may be possible to bring about a state of mind in which there is no contradiction. So it is really essential, if one is to respond anew to the challenge of life, to respond to it totally. When there is only a partial response, any civilization or culture must inevitably disintegrate, which is obviously what is happening in this country and elsewhere. So, can we be aware of our conditioning, which is preventing a total response to the challenge of life? By being aware I mean just seeing the fact of one's conditioning as a Hindu, a Moslem, or what you will, without condemning or trying to bring about a change in that conditioning; because the moment we desire to bring about a change in our conditioning, we have already created a contradiction. Please, if we can really see this very simple fact, then our whole understanding of conditioning will have an altogether different meaning. Life, which is the everyday existence of relationship, of occupation and all the things that we do, is a constant challenge; in its response to that challenge the conditioned mind brings about self-contradiction, and a self-contradictory mind, however noble, however reformatory or idealistic its activities may be, is bound to create mischief, not only at the political or social level, but also psychologically and religiously, at the deeper levels of existence. Whereas, the person who breaks away from the collective, which is the prison of conditioning, is truly individual, creative, and only such a person can help to bring into being a different kind of civilization, a new culture, because in himself there is no contradiction. His action is entire, whole, he is not torn apart by ideas, there is no gulf between action and thought, no division of mentation and the carrying out of a certain idea. Only such a person is integrated and can understand this whole process of contradiction, not he who is trying to be integrated, because the very effort to be integrated is a contradiction. The man who sees the prison of his own conditioning and revolts, not within the prison, but totally, so that his very revolt pushes him out of the prison - it is he who is really a revolutionary, and I think this is very important to understand. But only the serious will understand it, not those who are trying to interpret what is being said to suit some philosophy or belief. If you actually perceive your own conditioning as factual without either accepting or trying to adjust that conditioning to a new pattern, you thereby become a revolutionary in the deepest sense of the word, and it is only such individuals who can bring about an altogether different culture, a new civilization in this suffering world. Question: Our minds are the result of the past, they are shaped by the tradition of Shankara and Buddha. Will mere self-awareness help us to free ourselves from this conditioning? Krishnamurti: If you had listened your question would have been answered by my introductory talk. Sir, is it possible to start on the journey of exploration without previous knowledge, without any book, without quoting philosophers, scientists, or psychologists? Do you understand the question? After all, to find out what is truth, what is God, or what name you will, the mind must be completely alone, uncontaminated by the past, must it not? So, don't translate what I am saying in terms of what you have already read. The mind, your mind, is the result of time, of many yesterdays, it has this extraordinary burden of knowledge, of experience within the field of time. And can one put all that aside and say, `I know nothing'? Though one has read, though one has experienced, is it possible to put all that totally aside because one sees that knowledge is an impedi- ment to exploration and the discovery of truth? This demands a mind that is astonishingly unafraid, that has no end in view, that does not want to achieve a result; which means, really, a mind capable of unconditioning itself, of being free from its past because it sees that any conditioning is a hindrance, a source of contradiction. You see, sir, the difficulty for most people, and probably for all of us here, is that we have read too much, and what we read we translate in terms of our conditioning; therefore knowledge or experience becomes a further hindrance. And what I am asking is, can you put aside every, thing of the past, all the things that you have learnt, and look at life anew? I am not talking about putting aside knowledge of the mechanical world, but the knowledge which has for the mind a psychological significance, so that you are your own teacher. Then there is no longer a guru and a disciple because you are finding out all the time, and when there is that kind of learning there is no need for a teacher. Question: But the mind is burdened by the past, and how is one to shake it off? What is the method? Krishnamurti: You want a method because you desire to achieve a result, you want to get somewhere, and that is all you are concerned with. It is like the bank clerk wanting to become the executive. Your mind is climbing the ladder of success, worldly or so-called spiritual, and such a mind will not understand because it is only concerned with attaining an end. What is important, surely, is to find out why your mind desires to achieve a result, why it wants to be free of the past. Why do you want to be free from the past? And can the mind, being itself the result of time, make an effort to be free of time? If it does, it is still within the field of time, obviously; by making an effort to be free, to arrive somewhere, it has created a contradiction in itself. The mind is the result of time, and whatever movement it makes to free itself is still within the field of time. If one sees that simply and clearly, only then is it possible for the mind to be completely still. The very perception of that fact makes the mind quiet, it does not have to make an effort to be quiet. When the mind makes an effort to be quiet its meditation is really a bargaining, a thing of the market place. Question: An ancient civilization like that of India has left a deep impress upon our patterns of social behaviour, which are now in a process of decay. How can we retain the best features of our culture and revive the ancient spirit? Krishnamurti: Sir, a dead thing must be buried, you can't revive it, you can't go back to it; but that is what you are trying to do. Because in yourselves you are confused, you say, `Let us go back to the rishis, let us revive the ancient spirit, the dances, the rituals', all the things that are dead and gone. There is a challenge directly in front of you, and you say, `Let us go back'. If you do go back, if you respond by turning your back on the new, your civilization is going to decay - which is exactly what is happening. You may go back to your temples, to Shankara, to the sacred books, to the priests, to images carved by the hand, and all the rest of it, but they are dead things and will have no meaning. So you cannot go back. You can only respond anew to the new, and you cannot respond anew if you keep some of the old. You must let go of the old completely and respond fully to the new. If you respond partially, keeping the good things of the Indian culture and making a mixture of the old and the new, then you are obviously creating mischief. A new civilization can be brought into being only by people who are capable of responding totally to the new, and you cannot respond totally to the new if you cling to the ancient culture or to some of its good things. Surely, sirs, to respond fully to the new, the mind must be free of the prison of the old, its freedom cannot be in terms of the prison. You may revolt within the prison by demanding certain intramural reforms and adjustments, but in the process of understanding the whole prison of conditioning there comes a total revolution which is neither Indian nor Western; it is something totally new, and therefore a movement of the real. It is the movement of the real, not the revival of the old, that creates the new civilization. Sirs, the revival of the old is merely a modified continuity of the present, and this response of the old is not freedom. Freedom comes into being not through the pursuit of freedom, but when each one understands the total conditioning of his own mind. Question: But conditioned as we are, it is not possible to listen without contradiction. Krishnamurti: I am afraid, sir, you have not followed what I have said. I have said, do not listen with opinions, with conclusions, which only creates opposition, but listen to find out what is the actual process of the mind, listen to understand the process of your own conditioning. Do not ask how to be free of your conditioning, but be aware of your conditioning without judgment. Please, what I am saying is very simple, and it is this. The mind is made up of the past, it is the result of the past, and we don't have to explore that fact because it is obvious. The mind is made up of thousands of yesterdays, innumerable experiences; when it makes an effort to free itself from this conditioning, there is inevitably a contradiction. But if the mind is aware of its conditioning without any judgment, if it merely perceives that it is conditioned without wishing to change or be free of that conditioning, then the very perception of that fact in itself brings about a total revolution. Experiment with this and you will see how extraordinarily difficult it is just to be aware of your conditioning without wishing to change or be free of it. Your mind is made up of contradictions, you are educated to compare, to condemn, to evaluate, therefore you have already formed an opinion about your conditioning. You say that you must not be conditioned, or that an unconditioned state can never exist, which is what the Communists will say; so you have already concluded. But to be aware of one's conditioning without any conclusion is in itself the revolution. Question: The factor that stifles all attempts at creative expression is mediocrity. Drabness and mediocrity appear to be the inescapable curse of a classless society. Is there a way to establish equality and yet I keep alive the creative fire? Krishnamurti: Sir, what do we mean by a classless society? As long as status goes with function, it is bound to create a society of class distinctions. As long as the principal of a school has status, with all its implications, and does not keep his job merely functional, it inevi- tably brings about a class-conscious society. And it is very difficult for the mind not to bring in status when it is functioning, because the moment you set out to create a classless society the commissar becomes important, and with his job goes status, which means privileges, position, authority. "Is there a way to establish equality and yet keep alive the creative fire?" What do we mean by equality? I know we all say there must be equality; but can there ever be equality? Is there equality of function? I may be a cook, and you may be a governor. If the governor despises the cook, which he generally does because he feels himself to be much more important than the cook, then to him it is status that matters and not function; so how can there be equality? You have, by chance, a better brain than I have, you meet more people than I do, you have greater capacity, you paint, you write poems, you are an artist or a scientist, while I am merely a coolie or a clerk. How can there be equality? Or perhaps we are not looking at this problem at all rightly. Will inequality matter very much if each one of us is doing something which he really likes, something which he loves to do with his whole being? Do you understand, sir? If I love what I am doing, in that action there is no contradiction, no ambition. I am not seeking approbation, applause, titles, and all the rest of the nonsense. I am really in love with what I am doing, therefore the whole problem of competition, of ambition, and this antagonism which arises from comparing one craft or function with another, will cease to exist. Surely, the creative fire is lost when status becomes important, or when there is the imposition of the pattern of equality, which is merely a theory. But if we can educate the student from childhood to love what he is doing, whatever it is, with his whole being, then perhaps there will be no contradiction and therefore antisocial activities will cease. Sir, I think equality comes into being when there is love in our hearts, when the heart is empty of the things of the mind. When there is love there is no sense of the great and the small, you don't touch the feet of the governor or bow more deeply to him than you do to the cook. It is because we do not love that we have lost the whole significance of equality. But love is not a thing to be made to order by Marx, it is not to be found in Communist theory, nor in the pattern of a new culture. It comes into being when we understand the ways of the mind. With self-knowledge comes love, not love as the sensuous or the divine, but just that feeling of loving in which there is goodness, respect, and in which there is no fear. You hear all this, but when you go away you will salute the governor very humbly, and kick your servants; so the very listening to this becomes a contradiction. Whereas, if you listen, not to achieve a result, but to understand the whole significance of what is being said, which is to understand the ways of your own mind, then you will know the beauty of that extraordinary thing called love. January 16, 1955 BANARAS 3RD PUBLIC TALK 23TH JANUARY 1955 I think it would be worth while if we could go into the question of what it is to be really creative, because it seems to me that this is the major problem in the world at the present time. Merely to be gift- ed, or to have talent in any one particular direction, is obviously not creativeness. I think creativeness comes about through the capacity to see life as a totality, not in fragments, to think and feel as a completely integrated human being. It may be that this sense of completeness, in which there is no contradiction, is the experiencing of reality, God, or what you will, and I think one would understand this state if one could distinguish myth from fact. May I suggest that you kindly do not take notes. If you take notes you are only partially listening, and I think it is much more important to experience now what we are discussing than to take notes and remember it at a future time. If we can be fully aware of and directly experience what one is talking about, it will surely have much greater significance than if we merely remember certain phrases and then try to relate them to the ordinary events of daily life. It seems to me that what is important is to understand the everyday facts of our life, and to do this ,we must obviously distinguish them from the mythology that we create about the facts. If we could distinguish fact from myth, then perhaps the major problem of life would be solved, which is this constant effort, the struggle to become, and which is really destroying a complete understanding of what life is. If we are at all conscious of the ways of the mind, we know that there is always a contradiction in our thinking, an effort to patch up or bridge over the gap between what is and what should be. This constant struggle to become is what we know, and if we could really understand and dissolve it, then perhaps there would be a state of integration, a life of being and not of becoming. After all, do we understand anything through effort? To understand, surely the mind must be quiet, and it cannot be quiet when it is in a state of effort. If you look at the fact through the screen of your opinions, biases, or knowledge are torn between the fact and what you yourself think is true, this contradiction between the fact and the myth brings about a continuous effort on your part which is destructive. The fact is one thing, and the myth about the fact is another, and effort comes into being when there is this myth apart from the fact. If we can once really grasp that all such effort is destructive, and can remove the screen of the myth from between ourselves and the fact, then our minds will be given wholly to understanding the fact. When we are confronted with a fact, we all have different opinions about the fact, different ways of looking at it, and this breeds contention, antagonism between us. Whereas, if I can look at the fact without any opinion, without the myth, then the fact itself will have its own effect without my making an effort to comply with or adjust my mind to the fact. So, can the mind look at the fact without having an opinion, an idea, a judgment about it, without bringing in its knowledge and previous experience? Because life is one thing, and what we think life is, is another. Life is obviously impermanent, not static, it is always in movement, in flux; but we want to make that transient thing permanent, we want to make that constant movement gratifying to ourselves. So the fact is one thing, and the myth is another; and can we free the mind from the myth of what we would like the fact to be? Can we be free of all the philosophies which people who cannot look at the fact have created and which have conditioned the mind? If we can, then there is no conflict. I think that is the real crux of the whole matter. It is very interesting to watch how the mind operates, to see how difficult it is for the mind to put away the myth, the opinions, the various philosophies, and merely observe the fact; but if we can really do this, I think it will bring about a total revolution in our thinking, because it will remove the whole process of mentation which is building the myth, the self, the `me'. After all, the `me' is totally impermanent, is it not? What is the It is a series of memories, experiences, a process of conditioned thinking apart from the fact, and it is this separation of the mind from the fact through various forms of conditioning that breeds the effort which destroys creativeness. I do not think this is an oversimplification, and if we can really grasp it we shall find that the mind then becomes merely an observer of the fact, and that the observer is not something separate from the fact. What is the mind? It is the constant movement of thought, is it not? It is the movement of thought which is the outcome of a particular conditioning, either as a Communist, as a Christian, or what not, and the accumulated experiences based on that conditioning. All that is the mind. That mind cannot look at a fact directly because it is shaped by various forms of knowledge, by personal satisfactions, by opinions, judgments, all of which prevent it from looking directly at the fact. If one really understands this, I think it will have a tremendous sociological effect. The mind is constantly seeking some form of security, some form of permanency; but there is no permanency at all. Psychologically the mind is ambitious, acquisitive, and so it creates a society which is based on acquisitiveness, society being the collective will. The fact is that there is no permanency, but the mind is seeking it, which creates the myth away from the fact; hence there is a contradiction, and so an everlasting effort by the mind to adjust the myth to the fact, and in this conflict we are caught. So, our problem is, can the mind be free from all forms of opinion, conclusion, judgment, hope, and look directly at the fact? And if the mind is thus free, then is there any fact except the freedom of the mind? Let us go into that a little bit. You see, the mind is the result of time, of many yesterdays, and the thinking process is the outcome of a certain conditioning. This conditioned mind is everlastingly seeking some form of consolation, some form of permanency. That is the state of the mind of almost everybody. But the fact is that life is not permanent, life is not secure; it is a rich, timeless movement. Now, when the mind is free from its own conditioning, from its judgments, opinions, from all the things that society has imposed upon it, is the mind then different from the fact of life? Then life is the mind; then there is no separation between the fact and the mind. This is really a tremendous experience if one can do it, and such a mind, being in a state of revolution, can bring about a different culture altogether. I don't know if you see the significance of this. You see, the mind is seeking truth, God, as something apart, and seeking implies a separation, a direction, even semantically. The mind wants God to be permanent, static, and therefore its God is self-created; but the truth of God may be entirely different, it may be something which is not the product of the mind at all. So the fact may be one thing, and that for which the mind is seeking may be another. The search may lead you, not towards the fact, but away from the fact - which means, really, that the mind must cease to search. It searches because it is seeking comfort, security, permanency, and all the rest of it, therefore it is moving in a direction totally apart from the reality which may never be still, the reality which the mind may have to discover every minute, every second. When the mind realizes that its search is the outcome of a particular conditioning, of a desire for security, permanency, and so on, then without any enforcement or compulsion there is a natural cessation of the movement of search, of going towards an end to be gained. Then is not the mind itself the movement of the fact, and not the movement of a desire or a hope about the fact? It is then really the movement of truth, of creativeness, because there is no contradiction; the mind is whole, completely integrated, there is no effort to be, to become. This is really very important to understand. Perhaps we can discuss it. Question: Is there anything permanent in us? Krishnamurti: If I may say so, you have not listened to what I have been saying. The fact is that everything is impermanent, whether you like it or not; but it is not a matter of acceptance. You see, that opens up an enormous question. What is acceptance? Acceptance implies that there has been disagreement between us. What have we disagreed about? Obviously, about opinions. Opinions can be accepted or rejected. But are you `accepting' the truth that life is impermanent, or merely seeing the fact that it is impermanent, which has nothing to do with acceptance? You don't have to `accept' the depth of the sea: it is deep. Nobody has to convince you of the fact that a bullet is very dangerous. We `accept' when we have not really seen the fact. There is no question at all of accepting what I am saying. I am just describing the actual process of our thinking, which is that in everything we want a state of permanency, in the family, in property, in position. But life is not permanent. That is so obvious, it does not need acceptance. The fact is that life is impermanent. Now, can the mind put away all the philosophies, the practices, the systems of discipline which it follows, hoping thereby to arrive at a permanent state? Can the mind be free of all that and see what the fact is? And if the mind is free to see the fact, is the fact then separate from the mind? Is not the mind itself the movement of the fact? You see, sir, the difficulty is that we don't listen to what is being said; and we don't listen to it because we are listening to the opinions, the judgments which we have and with which we are going to contradict or accept what is being said. Just to listen to what is being said is one of the most difficult things to do. Have you ever tried really listening to somebody? Experiment with it, try actually listening to somebody as you would listen to a song, or to something with which you neither agree nor disagree, and you will see how extraordinarily difficult it is, because just to listen to somebody the mind must be very quiet. To find out if what is being said is true or false, you must have a very silent mind, and not interpose between the mind and what is being said your own judgments about it. The questioner wants to know if there is anything permanent in us. How will he find out? He can find out only through a direct experience. To say that there is or is not a permanent state merely creates contradiction, because it conditions the mind to think in a certain way. If the mind wishes to find out what is true it must be free from all previous knowledge, experience, and tradition. That is an obvious fact. Question: In giving talks, your ideas are born of your thinking. As you say that all thinking is conditioned, are not your ideas also conditioned? Krishnamurti: Obviously, thinking is conditioned. Thinking is the response of memory, and memory is the result of previous knowledge and experience, which is conditioning. So all thinking is conditioned. And the questioner asks, `Since all thinking is conditioned, is not what you are saying also conditioned?' It is really quite an interesting question, is it not? To speak certain words, there must be memory, obviously. To communicate, you and I must know English, Hindi, or some other language. The knowing of a language is memory. That is one thing. Now, is the mind of the speaker, myself, merely using words to communicate, or is the mind in a movement of recollection? Is there memory, not merely of words, but also of some other process, and is the mind using words to communicate that other process? Is this too complicated? It is really a very interesting problem if you actually follow it through. You see, the lecturer has his store of information, of knowledge, and he deals it out; that is, he remembers. He has accumulated, read, gathered, he has formed certain opinions according to his conditioning, his prejudices, and he then uses language to communicate. We all know this ordinary process. Now, is that taking place here? That is what the questioner wants to know. The questioner says, in effect, `If you are merely remembering your experiences, your states, and communicating that memory, then what you say is conditioned' - which is true. Please, this is very interesting, because it is a revelation of the process of the mind. If you observe your own mind you will see what I am talking about. Mind is the residue of memory, of experience, of knowledge, and from that residue it speaks; there is the background, and from that background it communicates. The questioner wants to know whether the speaker has that background and is therefore merely repeating, or whether he is speaking without the memory of the previous experience and is therefore experiencing as he is talking. You see, you are not all observing your own minds. Sirs, to investigate the process of thought is a delicate matter, it is like watching a living thing under a microscope. If you are not all watching your own minds, you are like outside observers watching some players in the field. But if we are all watching our own minds, then it will have tremendous significance. If the mind is communicating through words a remembered experience, then such remembered experience is conditioned, obviously; it is not a living, moving thing. Being remembered, it is of the past. All knowledge is of the past, is it not? Knowledge can never be of the now, it is always receding into the past. Now, the questioner wants to know if the speaker is merely drawing from the well of knowledge and dealing it out. If he is, then what he communicates is conditioned, because all knowledge is of the past. Knowledge is static; you may add more to it, but it is a dead thing. So, instead of communicating the past, is it possible to communicate experiencing, living? Do you follow? Surely, it is possible to be in a state of direct experiencing without a conditioned reaction to the experiencing, and to use words to communicate, not the past, but the living thing which is being directly experienced. I don't know if this has at all communicated to the questioner what he wanted to know. When you say to somebody, `I love you', are you communicating a remembered experience? You have used the accustomed words, `I love you', but is the communication a thing you have remembered, or is it something real which you immediately communicate? Which means, really, can the mind cease to be the mechanism of accumulation, storing up and therefore repeating what it has learnt? Question: Is total forgetfulness possible? Krishnamurti: We are not talking about total forgetfulness. That is amnesia. I know the way to the station. I can recognize various people. Question: The moment the thought process is active, it is conditioned. Krishnamurti: But is it active apart from the use of words as a means of communicating what is true? Question: Does one not choose expressions while communicating what is true? Krishnamurti: But the thought process is active only in the verbal sense. After all, if I know French, Spanish, or whatever language it be, I can use it to convey what is true, and then it is just a means of communication, like the telephone, is it not? But here we must be very careful not to deceive ourselves, because self-deception is now tremendously easy if we are not very alert. If you tell me something and your telling is the result of an experience which is over, then your description, your thought is from the past, is it not? Therefore thought is conditioned. But is there thinking when you are experiencing and communicating? If you are experiencing and communicating the state of love, is there thinking then in the sense which we have understood? Question: I find that when the experiencing process is going on, communication totally stops. Krishnamurti: Does it stop? When you love your son, your wife, a dog, a flower, does communication stop in that moment of experiencing? You ask me a question and I reply. There is experiencing, but communication has not stopped. This is really very complex, so please pay attention. It is not a matter of opinion, you have to find out. All book knowledge, and the communication of that knowledge, is conditioned. That is simple, is it not? Then why are you collecting knowledge? You have to read certain books in preparing to earn a livelihood, but why do you read the Vedas, the Upanishads? Why do you accumulate knowledge about God, reincarnation, philosophies, and all that? Question: When you are talking, who is speaking? Are you not conscious that you are speaking? Krishnamurti: I am not at all sure that I am conscious that I am speaking. Something is being said. But we are going off at a tangent. All accumulated knowledge, whether about machinery, jet planes, or about philosophy, is conditioned, which is obvious, and you want to know if I am speaking from knowledge. If I am speaking from knowledge, then what is communicated is conditioned; and if I am not speaking from knowledge, then you ask, `From what are you speaking?' What is happening inwardly, inside the skull? Psychologically, what is taking place? Let us go slowly into this and try to find out. Now, is it possible not to have the burden of accumulated knowledge? If that is possible, then communication at a different level is also possible, surely. If you say that it is not possible to free the mind from all knowledge, knowledge being accumulation, then thinking and communica- tion are conditioned. But if it is possible for the mind to be free of all accumulation, which means dying each day, each minute to the previous experience, then, though the words may have a binding or conditioning quality, what is being said is not conditioned. I think that is the fact, it is not just a clever, logical conclusion. Question: I am terrified of death. Can I be unafraid of inevitable annihilation? Krishnamurti: Sir, why do you take it for granted that death is either annihilation or continuity? Either conclusion is the outcome of a conditioned desire, is it not? A man who is miserable, unhappy, frustrated, will Thank God, it is soon going to be all over, I won't have to worry any more'. He hopes for total annihilation. But the man who says, `I have not quite finished, I want more', will hope for continuity. Now, why does the mind assume anything with regard to death? We shall presently go into the question of why the mind is afraid of death, but first let us free the mind of any conclusion about death, because only then can you understand what death is, obviously. If you believe in reincarnation, which is a hope, a form of continuity, then you will never understand what death is, any more than you will if you are a materialist, a Communist, this or that, and believe in total annihilation. To understand what death is, the mind must be free of both the belief in continuity and the belief in annihilation. This is not a trick answer. If you want to understand something, you must not come to it having already made up your mind. If you want to know what God is, you must not have a belief about God, you must push all that away and look. If one wants to know what death is, the mind must be free of all conclusions for or against. So, can your mind be free of conclusions? And if your mind is free of conclusions, is there fear? Surely, it is the conclusions that are making you afraid, and therefore there is the inventing of philosophies. I don't know if you are following this. I would like to have a few more lives to finish my work, to make myself perfect, and therefore I take hope in the philosophy of reincarnation, I say, `Yes, I shall be reborn, I shall have another opportunity', and so on. So, in my desire for continuity I create a philosophy or accept a belief which becomes the system in which the mind is caught. And if I don't want to continue because life for me is too painful, then I look to a philosophy that assures me of annihilation. This is a simple, obvious fact. Now, if the mind is free of both, then what is the state of the mind with regard to the fact which we call death? Do you understand, sirs? If the mind has no conclusions, is there death? We know that machinery wears out in use. The organism of X may last a hundred years, but it wears out. That is not what we are concerned with. But inwardly, psychologically, we want the `I' to continue; and the `I' is made up of conclusions, is it not? The mind has got a series of hopes, determinations, wishes, conclusions - `I have arrived', `I want to go on writing', `I want to find happiness' -and it wants these conclusions to continue, therefore it is afraid of their coming to an end. But if the mind has no conclusions, if it does not say, `I am somebody', `I want my name and my property to continue', `I want to fulfil myself through my son', and so on, which are all desires, conclusions, then is not the mind itself in a state of constant dying? And to such a mind, is there death? Don't agree. This is not a matter of agreement, nor is it mere logic. It is an actual experience. When your wife, your husband, your sister dies, or when you lose property, you will soon find out how you are clinging to the known. But when the mind is free of the known, then is not the mind itself the unknown? After all, what we are afraid of is leaving the known, the known being the things that we have concluded, judged, compared, accumulated. I know my wife, my house, my family, my name, I have cultivated certain thoughts, experiences, virtues, and I am afraid to let all that go. So, as long as the mind has any form of conclusion, as long as it is caught in a system, a concept, a formula, it can never know what is true. A believing mind is a conditioned mind, and whether it believes in continuity or annihilation, it can never find out what death is. And it is only now, while you are living, not when you are unconscious, dying, that you can find out the truth of that extraordinary thing called death. January 23, 1955 BANARAS 4TH PUBLIC TALK 30TH JANUARY 1955 If each one of us could really solve any given human problem, I think a great deal of our misery and incapacity to meet life would come to an end. Is it that we don't know how to go about solving a problem and must therefore depend on others to solve our problems, or is it that we are not really aware of the problems that we have? I think it would be worthwhile if we could at this meeting find out if there is an actual problem which all of us have, a problem which is significant, and then see if together we cannot resolve it; because if we can once resolve for ourselves any human problem, then we shall have the capacity to resolve all future problems as they arise. As long as we are not capable of resolving a problem, we neglect, suppress, or escape from it, thereby giving root to a multiplicity of other problems. When we don't know how to tackle a problem and merely escape from it, that very escape becomes another problem, so one problem breeds several more; whereas, if we could attack and understand any given problem, then perhaps we should be able to bring about a mind which is not burdened with problems, but is capable of meeting each human problem as it arises. Such a mind, being silent, always gives the true response, and it is because we cannot give the true response to every challenge that our problems increase. After all, a problem which all of us have, if we are conscious of it, is the inadequacy of our response to any challenge. Not being capable of responding adequately to challenge, we give rise to a problem, and having a problem, we escape from it or try to find an immediate or convenient solution, which again becomes another problem. So one problem always breeds several other problems, which is what is happening, not only in the life of the individual, but also in the collective life of the group, of the nation. This is obvious, is it not? We go after peace, individually or collectively, and in the very search for peace we are introducing various elements which produce conflict, misery, strife. Now, can we understand how to meet any human problem? If we are at all aware of a problem, how do we actually meet it? Could we dwell on that for the moment? Because I think the really important thing is not what the problem is, but how we approach it. Surely, the problem is one thing, and our approach to the problem is another. Can one be conscious of one's approach to any problem, actually and not theoretically? What is one's process of thinking when one is confronted with a problem? Please don't merely listen to me, but watch your own mind and see how you approach your own problems. Don't you always approach any problem with a conclusion, that is, with your mind already made up about the problem? In other words, you have various theories, opinions, formulas with regard to the problem, and with that mentality you approach the problem or seek an answer. Either the mind is approaching the problem with a conclusion, with a formula, with a belief, or it is seeking an answer, so its approach is essentially an evasion of the problem, is it not? If you watch your own mind you will see this process in operation. What is the state of a mind that is seeking an answer, a solution? Obviously, it is seeking in terms of its own gratification. Please watch your own mind, because I am only describing what is actually taking place. If you are merely listening to me, what I am saying will be utterly superficial; but if you are following the description of your own mind, which means being aware of your own mental processes, then what is being said will have significance. When the mind seeks a solution to a problem, its approach is invariably a process of choice, its choice being based on its own gratification; it wants an easy solution, an answer in which no effort will be needed. In its search for a solution to the problem, the mind is looking through the various memories it has collected, the experiences it has gathered, and it chooses from among those experiences the answer most suitable to the problem. So your approach to the problem is that of choosing the most gratifying solution, is it not? Please watch, investigate your own mental processes, and you will see that your mind approaches any problem with opinions, conclusions, or it seeks an answer, or it tries to find ways and means of avoiding the issue. That is our general approach to every problem, which means that the mind is not tackling the problem directly but is translating the problem in terms of its old memories, its conclusions, concepts, formulas. So the problem remains and takes root in the soil of the mind, because the mind is not fresh in its approach. If the mind could be made fresh, then its response to the problem would be entirely different. Now, can we proceed from there? The question is, not how to resolve the problem, but whether the mind can be fresh in its approach, for the problem exists only because of the inadequacy of the mind's response to the challenge. However much the mind may wish to solve the problem, as long as its response is inadequate there will be a problem. It is because the mind is inadequate, not fresh in its response, that it is incapable of dealing with the problem in its totality, and hence there must be a further multiplication of problems, which means an increase of pain, misery and suffering. Psychologically, this is what is actually taking place, is it not? To see it does not require much thought, and there need not be a great ado about it. So, is it possible to approach any problem afresh, with a mind that is not burdened with conclusions, that is not seeking an answer or a means of evasion? Can the mind make itself fresh, innocent, so that it is capable of meeting the problem anew? Innocence is not the cutting off of experience, because you can, not cut off experience. But the mind is the result of experience, of the process of time; and how can the mind, being the result of time and therefore of experience and knowledge, make itself new, fresh, innocent to understand the problem? If the approach is innocent the problem will be tackled with wisdom, with understanding; but as long as the mind comes to the problem with previous knowledge, the problem multiplies. I don't know if you have ever watched this process in your approach to a human problem. Even in mathematical problems it works, I believe. You have a problem. If the mind approaches the problem as though it had never thought about it before, if it comes upon the problem being fully aware of its own bondages and hindrances so that it is free of them, then is there a problem? I hope I am making myself clear. We say that we must understand the problem, we must find an answer to it, we must search out the cause and resolve it, but the very instrument that is seeking the cause and is trying to find an answer is itself the problem; the problem is not outside of itself. So, how does the mind of each one of us approach a problem? Go very slowly and investigate how your own mind approaches any problem. Be aware of the process. Now, can the mind ever confront a problem without seeking a solution, without having any conclusions about it, and without running away? That is, can the mind face the problem and not look back upon its own experiences, not delve into the pigeon-holes of memory in order to choose the answer most suitable to the problem? Can the mind ever say, `I don't know how to tackle the problem'? Do you understand, sirs? Because it is very important actually to feel and not just to say that in front of any given human problem the mind, which is the result of the past, is confronted with something new and therefore cannot answer with the memories of the old. So, can the mind be in a state of not-knowing? And should not the mind always be in that state? Surely, the man who says, `I know', does not know. He knows only the things that have occurred and are over, and therefore he is burdened with memory. But the man who says, `I do not know' is in a process of investigation, of constant inquiry, therefore his mind never accumulates and then responds from that accumulation. Being actually and not theoretically in the state of not knowing, is not his mind really experiencing out of silence? And to such a mind, is there a problem to be solved? Such a mind is not in a condition of lethargy, it is completely alive, therefore it neither has a problem nor is it creating a problem. Then begins, I think, an extraordinary thing, which is the whole sense of what is holy, what is sacred. You see, further inquiry in this direction will only be a description, therefore a speculation, unless you are actually experiencing as we go along. One may have an occasional comprehension of what is holy, of what is true, but a second later it becomes memory, and therefore it has already turned to ashes; and I think one is inevitably caught in sorrow, in misery, as long as one does not understand this whole problem. Therefore it is essential that the mind should know itself and its workings, which is self-knowledge. Without self-knowledge, any verbal statement, any belief or non-belief really has no value at all. The mind must start, not with what should be, but with what is, it must begin by watching itself from moment to moment, seeing its actual responses and not getting lost in speculative hopes and fears. Actually moving with each response as it takes place brings about an astonishing aware- ness of the mind in which every thought, because it moves slowly, can be completely understood, all the details being immediately perceived. Without such a mind, all searching for reality, going to priests, doing puja, is really rubbish, it has no meaning; but for most of us the rubbish has become extraordinarily significant. To put away all that rubbish is to understand the ways of the mind and how it operates in relation to that rubbish. Then the mind can go extraordinarily far; then the mind itself becomes a limitless, timeless thing. Question: Throughout my working day the mind masks its mediocrity behind socially useful ends, but during the time of meditation is faced with its mediocrity, it is in torture and despair. What am I to do about it? Krishnamurti: Sir, what do you mean by meditation? And to what are you giving importance? To everyday work, with its social responsibilities and so on, or to meditation? I am not putting meditation in opposition to the operation of the mediocre mind while it is working or helping to bring about various social reforms. I am asking why the mind separates the two and gives greater significance to one than to the other. Question: In the ordinary working day one is conscious of the usefulness of the social ends to which the mind is directed, therefore the attention is not on mediocrity; but when one sits quietly for awhile the mask is down, so one is conscious of mediocrity and nothing else. Krishnamurti: You are saying that when it is not occupied the mind is aware of its mediocrity; all the masks having fallen away, the mind is confronted and tortured by its own pettiness, so what is one to do? As long as the mind is occupied with social and other activities, it is unaware of itself; but the moment it stops being occupied, the whole content of the mind is revealed to itself. Questioner: Not necessarily. Krishnamurti: The moment the noise stops, one is aware of the mediocrity of the mind, and you are asking what one is to do about it. Now, is not an occupied mind mediocre? Surely, an occupied mind is petty, whether it is occupied with business, with physics, with the kitchen, or with the sacred books and the pursuit of God. Please go slowly with me, sirs, let us go into it together. The mind of the housewife, that is, of a lady, who is concerned with the kitchen, with food, with children, with keeping the household clean, and so on, you would consider very trivial, whereas the man who is seeking God, who does puja and all the rest of it, is looked upon as being very noble; but his mind also is occupied, is it not? Only the occupation is different, that is all. The object of occupation is at a different level, but the mind is still occupied. And is not the mind that is everlastingly occupied, with itself or with anything else, mediocre? What does mediocrity mean? Average, ordinary - which is what our minds are, is it not? Our minds are constantly occupied, the student with his examination, the father with his job, and so on. Now, can the mind be free from occupation? Can it do the kitchen work, study physics, or what you will, and still not be occupied, so that the mind has space and is not filled with occupation? Can the mind ever stop producing thoughts - which is occupation, is it not? When the mind is occupied with the kitchen, with God, with sex, with this or that, this or that, it is obviously producing thoughts, thinking. And is not thinking itself mediocre? Because after all, what is thinking? It is the response of the background, the response of memory, of experience; and is not the investigation of that process, which is what we have done just now, real meditation? To meditate is to find out whether the mind can really stop producing thoughts one after another, which means being aware of and observing the processes of one's own thinking so that the mind sees and understands the fact that its thinking is conditioned, and therefore thought comes to an end. Only then is there not a state of mediocrity. Then the mind can act totally differently for any social end. Sir, after all, there is space, there is silence between two words, between two notes, but to most of us the word or the note is important, not the silence. If there were no silence there would be one continuous noise, and that is the state of the mind which is ceaselessly occupied; like a machine that is kept in constant operation, it wears itself out. But the mind that has space, that has wide gaps of silence, renews itself in that very silence, and therefore its action in any direction has quite a different significance. Question: Can the mind work and at the same time not be occupied? Krishnamurti Try it, sir. For most of us, work is occupation. The moment the mind `works', as one calls it, it is thinking, and therefore it is occupied. Sir, the difficulty in answering these questions is that in your listening you are not aware of what is actually taking place, you do not see the process of your own mind in operation. You are listening to me, that is all, and saying that it does not work; you are just sitting there while somebody else is speaking, and therefore it has no meaning. When you go to a football match in which you are not participating, you sit on the seats and criticize the players. Similarly, you are here merely as spectators at a game which is a lecture or a talk. Whereas, if you were not mere spectators but through the description of the speaker you were actually watching your own minds in operation, then you would find an extraordinary thing happening to you, the coming into being of a state in which there is neither the spectator nor the player. You see, that is why it is very important to have self-knowledge. Have I answered your question? Question: You said the teacher should have the intention not to influence the child. Is it possible to avoid influence altogether? Krishnamurti: What do you think, sirs? Are you waiting for me? Again you are assuming the role of the spectators. What is influence? Don't you know what influence is? Are you not influencing your children? The teacher, the parents, the government, the Bible, the Upanishads, the sun, the food we eat, the words we use - everything is influencing us, is it not? Take the word `love'. What an extraordinary neurological influence merely the word itself has on us. So everything is influencing us, and we in turn are influencing others. When we read a newspaper we are being influenced by the proprietors, by the columnist, by the pictures; we are influenced by propaganda, by the so-called spiritual magazines, by books, by lectures, by the way we dress, the way we sit. Everything is influencing us, and the questioner wants to know whether there can ever be the cessation of influence, even when one has the intention not to influence the child. This is really a complex question, so let us take time to go into it. We see that everything, physical and mental influences us. Where is one to draw the line? I may not want to influence my child, but influence is going on, conditioning his mind; the magazines he reads, his friends at school, his teachers, everything around him is influencing him. Consciously or unconsciously I am myself influencing the child, and the whole culture or civilization in which we live is conditioning his mind to be a Communist or a Capitalist, a Hindu or a Christian, and so on. So the question is not whether it is possible to stop all influence, but whether one can help the child to understand and be free of the influences which are conditioning him. Is it possible for education to help the student to be so intelligent that he will see and understand for himself those influences which are conditioning his mind, and put them away? Surely, that is our inquiry, not how to stop influence, or what kinds of influence the child should have. Now, what is it that conditions the mind? If the mind were completely secure, it would have no fear, would it? And when the mind has nothing to lose, it is completely secure, is it not? Which means that in its own insecurity there is security. As long as the mind demands to be secure, as long as it is seeking permanency in any form, it creates influences which will condition it. But cannot the mind be aware of total insecurity, of being completely insecure - which in fact it is? Life is insecure, impermanent. The resistance, the denial of the fact that life is completely insecure produces opposition between the desire to be secure and the fact, thereby creating fear, and it is this fear that conditions the mind, the fear that comes into being when you do not accept the fact. This fear may be described in different terms as the fear a boy has towards his parents, or the fear of not passing an examination, or the fear of being scolded, or the fear which arises when the mind wants to fulfil and is denied. The mind which is ambitious at any level has always with it the shadow of fear, because however much its ambition is being fulfilled it may at any moment be thwarted. So, can the student be given an environment of complete security? - which means, really, an environment in which he is not compared with the less clever or the more clever, in which there is no sense of condemnation, so that he feels completely at home. He generally does not feel at home with his parents because they do not know what it means to give the child that feeling of complete security. The parents want the boy to be something, they say, `You are not studying as well as your brother, who is so clever', and so they destroy the poor boy by instilling fear. When the mind of the student feels completely secure he can study more easily; but that means the educator must be totally free of his own demand to be secure, because the moment he demands security he instills fear. That is why teaching is a dedication, not a job. Question: I am an engineer by profession, and I think it is obvious that your idea of truth goes far beyond the standard or common place meaning of that word. Could you kindly explain further? Krishnamurti: Sir, an engineer is surely concerned with facts, not with speculations. If he has to build a bridge he must examine the proposed site and not imagine what the site should be. He may be aware of the aesthetic value of a certain line in building a bridge, which may be entirely different from what is called for by the actual facts he discovers at the site. With ourselves it is not like that. We think we are something, the Atman, the Paramatman, we have theories, speculations about the permanent and the impermanent, a vast number of beliefs, and so we are a mass of unreality which we are unwilling to face and look at. The fact is one thing, and our thoughts or opinions about the fact are entirely different. Only the mind that is capable of looking at the fact finds out what is true. The fact is that there is no such thing as permanency, and if the mind makes permanency into a fact, then that permanency is an opinion, it is what the mind would like the fact to be. It is as simple as that. If we can look at the fact without the myth of opinion, of knowledge, of judgment and evaluation, then the truth of the fact will have its own evaluation and produce its own action. To approach the fact with evaluation, with judgment, is entirely different from approaching it without judgment, without evaluation, and therefore understanding the fact. Now, can one look at the fact that one is greedy, that one is a liar, that one is ambitious, without evaluating it, without condemning or saying it is all right? If the mind can just see the fact, then the truth of the fact operates on the mind in the most unexpected manner, and that operation is its own evaluation, not the mind's evaluation. But a mind which has gathered the truth of the fact and acts from what it has gathered is surely incapable of looking at the fact, because it is looking through the screen of memory, of knowledge, of experience, of evaluation. That is why the mind must die each day to itself, to every experience, to all the knowledge it has gathered. The mind objects to that death, because experience and knowledge are a means of its own security, permanency; and a mind that has permanency, a sense of security, is never creative. It is only for the mind which is totally secure and is therefore no not wanting a state of security that reality comes into being. January 30, 1955. BANARAS 5TH PUBLIC TALK 6TH FEBRUARY 1955 Perhaps it might be worthwhile to find out what is the function of our thinking, because without understanding the whole process of our thought, conscious as well as unconscious, the mind cannot be free to discover what is true. We may search for truth, but our search will be in vain if we do not understand the content or the background of the reaction which we call our thinking. Our thinking is obviously supposed to guide our action, but our action is now so automatic that there is hardly any thinking at all. Besides, through various forms of education, the education that we receive at school and college, as well as the whole education imposed by society, our minds are conditioned to adjust or submit to the demands of a particular culture. We accept certain things as inevitable, depending on our sociological, religious, or economic background, and having accepted, we act; hence our action becomes almost automatic. Thinking is hardly necessary any more, and it seems to me very important to re-examine the whole process of our thinking and see if we cannot totally break away from the background in which we have been brought up, thereby bringing about a revolution in our lives which will in turn create a different kind of culture altogether. Real revolution is not Communist, Socialist, Capitalist, or anything of that kind, because it can only be based on the search for reality, for God, or what you will. That search is in itself the revolution, but such revolution cannot take place as long as our thinking is merely the repetitive reaction of a certain form of conditioning. So, it is obviously very important for all of us to find out how our minds operate, which is to have self-knowledge. If we don't know the ways of our own thinking, if we are unaware of our reactions and of how our thought is conditioned by the culture in which we have been brought up; if the mind does not penetrate deeply into the whole problem of its own background, which is really the `me', the self, then surely all knowledge, except perhaps mechanical knowledge, becomes detrimental and mischievous. Is it not possible, then, to investigate the process of our thinking, not according to any formula, guide, or guru, but for ourselves, and thereby find out how the mind works? Now, what is thinking? Can thinking ever be original, or is it always a repetitive process, the reaction of a background? Can thought lead us to reality, to God, to that extraordinary something which is beyond the process of the mind and which we call the ultimate, the absolute, or is thought a hindrance to the discovery of that reality? Please, may I suggest that you are not merely listening to a talk. You cannot help listening because you are here and I am talking, but if in the very process of listening you observe how your own mind works, then these talks will have significance. What I am saying is nothing extraordinary, it is merely a description of the ways of the mind so that as we are listening each one of us can be aware of the process of his own thinking. If one merely listens to a set of words and phrases and tries to catch their meaning, a talk of this kind will have no great depth; but if in the process of listening one can pursue one's own thinking and discover from what source it springs, then listening will be a self-revealing process, not just an acceptance or denial of what is being said. Can thinking ever be the means to find out what is true, what is God? Surely, if we do not find out for our, selves what that reality is, mere reform or amelioration within the social structure can only lead to further misery. After all, man exists to find that supreme thing which is the foundation of all foundations; and without search, inquiry, without the constant watchfulness of our reactions, our thoughts and feelings, to see if they lead to that ultimate reality, to that something beyond the mundane, all our beliefs and religious activities become utter nonsense, mere superstitions leading to further mischief. Does thought lead to reality, that reality which is never constant, which cannot be qualified in terms of time but must be discovered from moment to moment? To seek that reality, the mind must also be of that quality, otherwise it cannot have the comprehension or the feeling of what is true. So, can thinking help to discover that reality? And can thinking be original, or is all thinking imitative? If thinking is imitative, then obviously thinking cannot lead to that reality, it is not the way out, it is not a process by which to uncover what is true. And yet our whole process of search is the cultivation of thinking, of various practices, disciplines, which are all based on thought. If thought can open the door to reality, then it has significance; but thought may be a barrier to reality, so one must find but the truth of the matter for oneself, and not merely accept or reject. Surely, what we call thinking is the response of memory. That is fairly obvious. You have been brought up in a certain tradition; as a Hindu, a Christian, a Buddhist, a Communist, or whatever it be, you have various associations, memories, beliefs, and that background responds to any challenge, which is called thinking. So the background is not different from thinking; thinking is the background. When you are asked a question about your religion, what you believe in, immediately your mind responds according to your conditioning, in terms of the various traditions, experiences and beliefs that you have. You respond according to your particular background, as a Christian or a Communist also does. So thinking is an impediment in the sense that it is merely the response of the background, of a particular conditioning. Surely, that again is obvious. Such a response, which we call thinking, definitely cannot open the door to reality. To find out what reality is, one must totally cease to be a Hindu, a Christian, a Communist, this or that, so that the mind is no longer conditioned and is therefore free to discover what is true. Is it possible for the mind to be free from its whole conditioning as a Hindu, a Moslem, a Christian, or whatever it be? And who is the entity that is going to free the mind from its background? Do you understand the question? When you say, `I must be free from my conditioning as a Hindu', who is the entity that is going to bring about this freedom? Who is the analyzer of the background? Can the analyzer break up the background? Am I making myself clear? As a Hindu I have certain formulas, concepts, beliefs, traditions, and I see the necessity of being free from them all, for if I am not, it is obviously impossible to find out what reality is. If I am conditioned as a Communist, or if my mind is moulded according to any other belief, how can I ever find out what is real? Such a mind can only experience that to which it has been conditioned. Unless the mind is free from all conditioning, its search is merely a sociological reaction and it will find only what it has been conditioned to. Then how am I to free myself from all conditioning? Is there an entity who is going to help me to free myself from conditioning? That is, is there in me a thinker, an analyzer, an observer, who is not contaminated by my conditioning? You see, so far we have assumed that there is a thinker apart from thought, have we not? We are used to the idea that there are two separate processes, one being a permanent state as the thinker, the analyzer, the observer, and the other being the movement of thought. We have always believed that there is the Paramatman, a permanent spiritual entity who by analyzing the process of thinking is going to reject whatever is false and keep only what is true. Now, is there such a permanent entity apart from impermanent thought? Or is there only thinking, which is entirely impermanent and therefore creates the thinker in order to make itself permanent? Surely, thinking creates the thinker, it is not the thinker who creates the thought. This is really very important to understand for oneself, it is not a thing to accept or reject. Has not thinking created the thinker, and not the other way round? After all, if there were no thinking, would there be a thinker? It is thinking that gives rise to the thinker, and the thinker then becomes the permanent analyzer, the observer who is untouched by time; but that entity has been created by thought, surely. It is like a diamond. The qualities of the diamond make the diamond. Remove the qualities of the diamond, and there is no diamond at all. Similarly, various desires, urges, compulsions create in their movement the entity which becomes the actor, the embodiment of will, which is the `I' of assertive action, of assertive thought. But that will is made up of many desires. If there were no desires, there would be no will, no `I'. So, if there is only thinking and not the thinker, then the thinker who says, `I will free myself from my conditioning' is himself the outcome of conditioned thought; therefore the thinker, the observer, the analyzer, the experiencer, cannot free the mind from its conditioning. The mind may separate itself as the thinker and the thought, as will and desire, as the good and the bad, as the higher self and the lower self, but that whole process is still within the field of thought, it is only a self-deception leading to a great deal of mischievous action. The question then is, can the mind free itself from its own conditioning when there is no censor, no analyzer, no superior self who is going to cleanse the mind? Are you following this? Please, if this much is not clear, to go further will have no meaning. It is essential to understand this, otherwise you will cling to the idea of a higher self, a spiritual something which is God given, timeless, but encased in ignorance, and which is always pushing away the ignorance that is coming upon it - which is all absurd. And if there is no permanent self at all, but only thinking which creates the permanent self in different forms, then can thinking free the mind to find out what is true? As long as we have not found out what is true, what is God, what is that extraordinary something which fills life with greatness, goodness and beauty, all our activities at whatever level can have only a superficial meaning. Unless we are directly experiencing that which is true from moment to moment, our culture becomes mechanical and therefore destructive. Surely, man exists to find God, not merely to earn a livelihood and adjust himself to a particular pattern of society. Society does not help man to find truth. On the contrary, society prevents man from discovering what is true, because society is based on the desire to be secure, to have permanency, and a mind that is secure, safe, that is seeking permanency, can never find reality. But the man who understands what is true, who is experiencing reality from moment to moment, helps to bring about a totally new society. Reformation, adjustment, or any form of revolution within the framework of society can only lead to further misery and destruction as is shown in the world at the present time, where every effort to solve one problem leads to a hundred more. Whereas, if the mind can understand what is true, experience it directly, then that very understanding creates its own action which brings about a new culture. Our question then is, can the mind free itself from its own conditioning? If there is no `I', no self, no Atman to free it, then what is it to do? Do you follow the problem? We have invented the `I' which is going to free the mind from conditioning. But as we investigate the process of the `I', we discover that the `I' has no reality, it is merely a product of thought, which is a reaction of the background. So there is only thinking, thinking according to the background. Thinking is the response of the background, which is the mind's conditioning as a Christian, a Buddhist, a Hindu, and so on. If thought is the response of the background, and all background is conditioning, then thought cannot lead to freedom; and it is only in freedom that you can find out what is true. So, to find what is God, what is true, thought must come to an end. Please, this is not only logical, it is factual. Thought must come to an end. But the moment you ask, `How am I to end thought?', there is an entity who operates, who practices the `how' in order to put an end to thinking. So there is no `how' at all, and this is very important to understand, because for all of us the `how' is the most important thing. We say, `How am I to do this, what is the discipline I must practise?' and all that business, which we now see has no meaning. So at one sweep we get rid of this whole problem of the `how'. This may sound too facile, but it is not facile, it is not easy; on the contrary, it demands a great deal of attention, not concentration but attention. Concentration is exclusive because it implies a motive, an incentive, whereas attention has no motive and is therefore not exclusive. In the mind's observation of itself there comes self-knowledge, which is not the knowledge of the higher self. The higher self is an invention of the mind that wants to escape from the actuality of thought in relationship to people, to things, and to ideas. When it wants to escape from what is, the mind goes off into all kinds of absurdities. But when the mind begins to inquire into the process of its own being, when it sees the implications of thought and how thought comes into being, then that very perception puts an end to thought. There is no thinker who puts an end to thought, therefore no effort is involved. Effort arises only when there is an incentive to gain something. If the mind as an incentive the desire to break away from its conditioning, then that incentive is the reaction its conditioning in a different direction. So, it is very important to understand the whole process of our thinking, and the understanding of that process does not come through isolation. There is no such thing as living in isolation. The understanding of the process of our thinking comes when we observe ourselves in daily relationship, our attitudes, our beliefs, the way we talk, the way we regard people, the way we treat our husbands, our wives, our children. Relationship is the mirror in which the ways of our thinking are revealed. In the facts of relationship lies truth, not away from relationship. There is obviously no such thing as living in isolation. We may carefully cut off various forms of physical relationship, but the mind is still related. The very existence of the mind implies relationship, and self-knowledge lies through seeing the facts of relationship as they are without inventing, condemning, or justifying. In relationship the mind has certain evaluations, judgments, comparisons, it reacts to challenge according to various forms of memory, and this reaction is called thinking. If the mind can just be aware of this whole process, you will find that thought comes to a standstill. Then the mind is very quiet, very still, without incentive, without movement in any direction, and in that stillness reality comes into being. Question: It is difficult to follow you, and I find it much easier to follow people who have understood your teachings and can explain them to us. Don't you think there is need for such people to spread your teachings? It was recently pointed out in a newspaper article that you are intolerant of all beliefs and guides which help us. Krishnamurti: As long as one wants to follow there will be a guide, and following destroys the possibility of finding out what is true. If the mind follows anybody it is following its own interest, which is not to understand what is true. You are surely not following me, because I am only trying to point out the operations of your own mind. If you follow somebody you are not inquiring into the ways of your own mind, and without understanding the ways of your own mind, to follow another can only lead you to more misery. To follow another is it does not matter who it is, whether it be Christ, Buddha, myself, or anybody else. Following is destructive, for imitation breeds fear. It is fear that makes you follow, not the search for truth. We don't understand the miseries of life, the transient happiness, the mystery of death, the extraordinary complexities of relationship, and we hope that by following somebody all this will somehow be explained and disappear. But to understand all these complexities is not to follow anybody. This mass of complexities has been created by each one of us, and we have to understand the cause of it, which is our own thinking. The questioner says, "I find it much easier to follow people who have understood your teachings and can explain them to us", which is to have interpreters. For God's sake, sirs, keep away from interpreters, because the interpreter is bound to interpret according to his conditioning and his vested interest. This again is so obvious, it does not need much thinking. But you see, you want somebody to help you, and the moment you demand help you have brought into being the whole process of corruption, which really indicates that you have no confidence in being able to go to the source of things for yourself. The source is not me, but you, the way you think. The source is yourself, and why should you follow anybody or listen to interpreters to understand yourself? What is it the interpreters understand which you don't understand? They may have a better command of words than you or I, but keep away from interpreters, do not become a follower, because the source of mischief is in yourself, in the ways of your own thinking, and as long as you are imitating, following someone who is interpreting, you are escaping from yourself. The escape may be pleasant, it may temporarily give you gratification, but there is always in that escape the sting of sorrow. And you don't have to spread my teachings, because if you don't understand yourself you cannot spread them. You may be able to buy and distribute a few books, but surely that is not at all so essential as to understand yourself. When you understand yourself, then you will spread understanding in the world, you will bring greater happiness to man. But if you are spreading somebody else's teachings you are creating more mischief, for then you are merely propagandists, and propaganda is not truth. "It was recently pointed out in a newspaper article that you are intolerant of all beliefs and guides which help us." Sirs, what is tolerance? Why should you be tolerant or intolerant? Facts don't demand either tolerance or intolerance. Facts are there for us to take them or leave them. Why do we beat this drum of tolerance? All beliefs, the Christian, the Hindu, the Moslem, are a source of enmity between people. Is it being intolerant to point out that obvious fact? But if you cling to your belief you will say I am intolerant, because you are unwilling to look at the fact. The fact is so patent that as long as we are divided as Moslems, Hindus, Christians, it is bound to create antagonism. We are human beings, not a mass of conflicting beliefs. But you see, we have a vested interest in our belief. Belief is profitable. Societies are founded on it, religions with their priests thrive on it, and to them any questioning of belief is intolerance. But the man who faces facts as they are is surely not concerned with either tolerance or intolerance. Belief is not reality. You may believe in God, but your belief has no more reality than that of the man who does not believe in God. Your belief is the result of your background, of your religion, of your fears, and the non-belief of the Communist and others is equally the result of their conditioning. To find out what is true the mind must be free from belief and non-belief. I know you smile and agree, but you will still go on believing because it is so much more convenient, so much more respectable and safe. If you did not believe, you might lose your job, you might suddenly find that you are nobody. It is being free of belief that matters, not your smiling and agreeing in this room. With regard to guides, gurus, and all the rest of it, you follow because you have a motive, an incentive, which is that you want to be happy, to find God. So you are always seeking, and the guru is supposed to help you to find. But can a guru help you to find what is real? Reality must be outside the field of time, it must be something totally new, uncontaminated by the past or the future. If it is outside the field of time, then the mind which is the result of time can never find it. As long as you are following somebody in order to find reality, God, you are merely following the desires of your own mind. You are following because it gratifies you, therefore it is not leading you to truth. That is why it is important not to follow, not to have gurus. When you seek, your search is the outcome of your desire, and your desire projects that which you are seeking. It is only when the mind is not seeking, when it is really quiet, completely still, without any form of incentive, that there is the coming into being of that thing which is not caught by the mind, which is not found in books, and of which no guru knows; because to know is not to know. Question: When you say that discipline is destructive, how can you obviate the danger of producing an army of sanctimonious nincompoops? Krishnamurti: I don't know what the questioner means, but we can see for ourselves the effects of so-called discipline. Now, what do we mean by discipline, and why should there be discipline? We have accepted discipline as necessary in schools, in daily life, in the political party, we discipline ourselves to find reality, and so on. There are various forms of discipline at different levels of our conscious and unconscious activities. Discipline is a process of resistance, of submission or adaptation, is it not? You adapt yourself to society's demands, because if you don't you will be destroyed; you suppress yourself and submit to society in order to be a good or moral citizen, and so on. Surely, discipline implies shaping the mind to a certain formula, either externally imposed, or imposed by yourself. Through tradition, the evaluations of religion, culture and all the rest of it, society imposes a certain discipline on the mind. It says, `Keep within the limits, otherwise you will not be respectable, you will become dangerous', and so on, which one can understand. But the idea of imposing a discipline on oneself seems wholly absurd, because who is the entity that disciplines? The mind has divided itself as the one who disciplines and the part which is to be disciplined, but it is all the same mind playing a trick on itself. Surely, that is obvious. For its own convenience the mind has divided itself as the one who disciplines and the part that has to be disciplined, and we play this game with ourselves, which is absurd, because it has no reality at all. It is a convenient form of self-deception. Now, can a mind which is so disciplined, which is controlled, shaped through tradition, through certain evaluations which society calls moral - we are not now questioning whether they are moral or immoral - , can such a mind ever find out what is true? Or does the mind, in seeking what is true, create its own way of life which is disciplinary? Obviously, the man who is seeking truth must be virtuous, but virtue is not an end in itself. Virtue is to bring order, it has no validity in itself. If virtue has validity in itself it leads to respectability, which society loves. But the mind that is understanding itself creates its own order, which is not an imposition, not an adjustment to any form of compulsion. The mind that is aware is all the time bringing order within itself, which is not the order imposed by society or religious sanctions, though outwardly they may seem to correspond. But a mind that is merely controlled through fear of going wrong, through fear of what people will say, that is imitating, trying to live according to what Shankara or anyone else has said, such a mind can never find out what is real. It is only the free mind that can discover the real, and to be free the mind has to understand itself. But merely to state that the mind is free has no meaning. It is like the schoolboy wanting to do exactly what he likes, which he calls freedom. That is obviously not freedom. Whereas, if the mind is aware of its own ways in relationship, if it is capable of watching its own movements without condemnation or evaluation, then it will understand what it is to be free, and only such a mind can discover that which is eternal. February 6, 1955 BANARAS TALK TO PARENTS 27TH JANUARY 1955 What is the responsibility of a parent? Perhaps it might be of interest to discuss that, even though there are very few parents here. Why do we, as parents, want to educate our children at all? It is generally understood that parents desire their children to be educated to fit into society, to adjust themselves and adapt their thoughts to society, which really means helping them to prepare for a profession of some kind so that they can earn a livelihood. They want their children to be educated to pass examinations, to take a degree at some university, and then to have a fairly good job, a secure position in society. That is all most parents are concerned with. To put their children through college they pay so much money, easily if they are wealthy, with great difficulty if they are not; and to them, education is a matter of adding a few letters after the student's name, which they hope will make him a so-called good citizen, a respectable member of society. What parents are primarily interested in, especially in a country like this where there is overpopulation and a heavy burden of tradition, is to help the student have a job so that he won't starve. I am not criticizing, but merely stating a fact. Here, fortunately, the problem of war is not imminent, whereas in Europe and America conscription in various forms has been introduced and the boys have to go through the military system; they are trained in a particular military unit to fight, to destroy, and are released only after three or four years to enter a civilian occupation and carry on their life. In India this is not insisted upon. So, what is the responsibility of parents? Does their responsibility end the moment the boy or the girl has taken a degree and is married off? What do we mean by responsibility? To what are we responsible? Is it our responsibility to see that the young people fit into a particular society irrespective of whether that society is good or bad, revolutionary or corrupt? Is it our responsibility to make the boy or the girl conform, regardless of what he or she wants to do and is capable of? Is that what we mean by responsibility? Question: Whether he lives in America, in Russia, or in India, a parent who really loves his child will be deeply concerned to insure that he has an ingrained sense of social obligation which will be natural to him and which, as he grows up, he will express in a certain way according to his capacities. Krishnamurti: The parent spends so much money on the education of his child, which means putting him through the university and all that. Such education may enable the student to fit into society, but will it help him to be creative? Questioner: The parent will judge education on the basis of whether or not it makes his child an asset from the social point of view. Krishnamurti: That brings up the complex question of what is the cultural or social background of the parent and the educator, does it not? It means, really, investigating to find out what society is, and whether education is merely a matter of conditioning the child to serve society according to the established pattern. On the other hand, when he grows up and leaves the university, should the student be in opposition to society? Or should he be capable of creating a new kind of society altogether? As parents, what is it that we want? Questioner: There is one thing we don't want: that a young man who has had a good education in an expensive school should just demand comforts from society. Such people give nothing in return, and they are impoverishing the country. Krishnamurti: That is, how can education help the student, from childhood right through adolescence to maturity, not to be antisocial? Now, what do we mean by being antisocial? If a boy is educated not to be antisocial in Russia, it means conditioning him to fit into the Communist society. Here, when we talk of educating him not to be antisocial, we also mean conditioning him not to break out of the established pattern. As long as he conforms and stays within the pattern of a particular society, we call him a social asset, but the moment he breaks away from the pattern we say he is antisocial. So, is it the function of education merely to mould the student to fit into a particular society? Or should education help him to understand what society is, with its corrupting, destructive, disintegrating factors, so that he comprehends the whole process and steps out of it? The stepping out of it is not antisocial. On the contrary, not to conform to any given society is true social action. Questioner: If education makes the student so self-centred that when he leaves college he has a complete disregard of poverty and no feeling for the poor, then surely that education is wrong, and a thoughtful parent will be concerned to see that such a thing does not happen. Krishnamurti: Then how can education help the student not to become mediocre, not to fall into the mediocrity of the rich, of the poor, or of the middle class? What kind of education should there be in order to break up the mediocrity of the mind, if we can put it that way? Not to be mediocre, surely, the boy must be able to do things with his hands as well as with his mind, he must not say, `This is good', `That is bad', he must be neither Brahmanical nor anti-Brahmanical, neither pro-this nor contra-that - which means, really, that there must be an environment in which the student is stimulated all around and not merely on the intellectual side. Questioner: As a father, what can I do at home to prevent mediocrity in the child? Krishnamurti: If the father is mediocre, that is, if his tastes are conventional, if he is traditional in his outlook, if he is afraid of his neighbours, of his wife, of losing his position, then how can he help to prevent mediocrity in the child? Questioner: Granting that the parent is mediocre, how is he to approach the problem of his relationship with his child? Krishnamurti: Education, surely, is the understanding of the relationship between oneself and the child, between oneself and society. The understanding of relationship is education. But is it possible to understand relationship if the mind has a fixed point? Questioner: What do you mean by having a fixed point? Krishnamurti: Having a belief in something, a religious opinion, a dogmatic conclusion, a narrow attitude to life. And will such a parent be able to understand the relationship between himself and his neighbour or his child? Obviously not, because he starts from a fixed opinion, his thought is already formed. After all, relationship is a living thing, whether it be one's relationship with people, with property, or with ideas, and if one starts with a preformed attitude towards people, property, or ideas, then there is no understanding of relationship. Now, what is our relationship with people? If I am a parent, what is my relationship with my child? First of all, have I any relationship at all? The child happens to be my son or my daughter; but is there actually any relationship, any contact, companionship, communion between myself and my child, or am I too busy earning money, or whatever it is, and therefore pack him off to school? So I really have no contact or communion at all with the boy or the girl, have I? If I am a busy parent, as parents generally are, and I merely want my son to be something, a lawyer, a doctor, or an engineer, have I any relationship with him even though I have produced him? Questioner: I feel I ought to have a relationship with my child, and I am hoping to establish one on which he can depend. How am I to proceed? Krishnamurti: We are discussing the relationship of the parent with his child, and we are asking ourselves if there is any relationship at all, though we say there is. What is that relationship? You have produced the child and you want him to pass through college, but have you actually any other relationship with him? The very rich man has his amusements, his worries, and he has no time for the child, so he sees him occasionally, and when the child is eight or ten years old, he packs him off to school, and that is the end of it. The middle class are also much too busy to have any relationship with the child, they have to go to the office every day, and the poor man's relationship with the child is work, for the child must also work. So, let us establish what the word `relationship' means in our life. What is the relationship between myself and society? After all, society is relationship, is it not? And if I really had a feeling of deep love for my child, that very love would create quite a revolution, because I would not want my child to fit into society and have all his initiative destroyed, I would not want him to be weighed down by tradition, by fear and corruption, bowing to the highly-placed and kicking the lowly. I would see to it that this decaying society ceased to exist, that wars and every form of violence came to an end. Surely, if we love our children, it means that we must find a way of educating them so that they do not merely fit into society. Questioner: How best can we equip the child to meet the present society? Krishnamurti: We know what society is, with its corruption and all the rest of it. Is it the function of education to help the child to fit into any particular society, whether Communist, Socialist, or Capitalist? When he does fit into society, he is in constant rebellion there, is he not? Are we not at each other's throats in society, actually or psychologically? Questioner: How can we help the child not merely to rebel within society, but to break away from this society altogether? Krishnamurti: That is just the point. Do you as a parent want your child to rebel in the deepest sense of that word? Do you want to help him to free himself from this society and create, not a society which is Communistic, this or that, but an altogether different kind of society, a new culture? Questioner: We can help him with our limitations. Krishnamurti: Then we shall limit the child also. Is it possible to educate the child not to conform to your limitations or my limitations, but to understand himself and create his own society? Is it possible for us all, both inside and outside the school, to help the student to bring about an atmosphere of freedom in which there is no fear, so that he understands the whole social structure and says, `This is not a true society, I shall step out of it and help to build a society which is totally new'? Otherwise he merely falls in line. So, what is the function of education? Is it not to help the student to understand his own compulsions, motives, urges, which create the pattern of a destructive society? Is it not to help him to understand and break through his own conditionings, his own limitations? Questioner: I think it is first necessary for the child to understand the society in which he is, otherwise he cannot break away from it. Krishnamurti: He is part of society, he is in contact with it every day and sees its corruption. Now, how are you going to help him, through education, to understand the implications of this society and be free of it, so that he can create a different kind of social order? Questioner: A common child inevitably conforms to the pattern of society. Krishnamurti: There is no such thing as a common child, but there may be a common teacher who is scared stiff. That is why the educator needs educating. He also must change and not merely conform to society. Questioner: Since we have our own limitations, should we impose them on the child? Questioner: It is not imposition, it is helplessness. Krishnamurti: So, being aware of our limitations and our helplessness, how shall we bring about the right kind of education? Questioner: We want to hear that from you, that is why we are here. Krishnamurti: Unless the educator himself is educated, it is not possible to help the student to break down his limitations, is it? The education of the educator is the one essential factor. Now, is the educator willing to educate himself? That means, really, is he willing to understand his own status, to be aware of his limitations and break through them as much as he can, thereby helping the boy or the girl to break through? Questioner: One can try. Krishnamurti: If the educator himself does not see the necessity of breaking down his own limitations as much as he can, he will obviously impose those limitations on the child. Questioner: He sees the necessity of breaking down his own limitations, but however much he may try, he is still limited. Krishnamurti: So what do we propose to do? Are we prepared as grownup men and women, so-called mature human beings, to understand our limitations and break them down? Otherwise, through our influence, we are bound to impose these limitations on the children. First of all, as parents and educators, are we aware of our limitations? Questioner: I am aware that the limitations are there, but I don't know how to get out of them. Krishnamurti: Do we know what the word `limitation' implies? Is it a limitation to call ourselves Hindus? Questioner: That cannot be a limitation. Krishnamurti: But it is, because it divides people. Are we prepared to break through all that and cease to be Hindus or Moslems? Questioner: I think one is prepared to go that far. Krishnamurti: If the teachers, the educators are prepared to do that, then the implications are tremendous. After all, when you call yourself a Hindu, what does it mean? There is not only the geographical division, but also the division that is created by belief in certain forms of religion, in certain traditions, in a certain kind of social order. Are we as educators prepared to drop these beliefs, which means going against the present society? Are we prepared to go that far? Unless the educator dedicates himself to education, and particularly if he has daughters to be married off, as he generally has, he will merely conform. Should not the educator dedicate himself to education in the right sense of the word? And will the parent help the teacher to dedicate himself to right education? I think most people throughout the world recognize that the present system of education has failed, because it has produced wars, moral decay, and all the rest of it; and also, except among a very few people, all creative thinking has ceased. So, what is the right kind of education, and how are we to bring it about? It obviously cannot be brought about through somebody saying, `This is right education', and all of us merely agreeing and following the pattern, but rather the teacher and the parent, the whole lot of us, must sit down together and find out what right education is, which means that the parent and the teacher have to be educated as well as the student. It seems to me that right education is to help the student to be free, because it is only in freedom that one can be creative. Freedom implies, not courage, but having no fear, which is entirely different. To have no fear is a state in which there is no conformity, no imitation, and therefore no following of any authority. All that is implied in freedom? To find out what it means to have no authority in education, one has to go into the implications of it. Having no authority does not mean that the boy does exactly what he likes; but the moment the boy knows there is authority, he is afraid, therefore we have already introduced the initiative process. Now, are we as parents prepared to relinquish our authority so that the boy is really free, not just to pursue superficial distractions, but free to find out what is true, to question all tradition, to question the very authority of the parents? If we really mean that the boy should be free, all that must follow. Questioner: Unless we are free we cannot give freedom to the child. Krishnamurti: That means you will have to wait for centuries. Is what you say an actual fact, or merely a speculative idea? All initiative and creative thinking are obviously destroyed if there is no freedom for the child - which does not mean allowing the boy to do whatever he likes. But is the parent willing to let go of his authority, with all its implications, so that the child finds out what is true? Are the parents willing to educate themselves to that extent? You see, the parent must feel the necessity of this as strongly as he feels the necessity of his next meal. Freedom implies self-knowledge. To understand oneself is the first step towards freedom. And are we prepared to say, `I want to understand myself so that the child will understand himself and create a new society'? Or are we only concerned with helping the child to conform? Will the parents help to create an educational centre where there is no fear? Superficially that means no examinations, because examinations do bring about a state of fear, a sense of competition. Are the parents prepared to create an educational centre where the boy is not taught to surpass some other boy, where the students are not given marks and divided as the stupid and the clever, but where each boy and each girl is an individual to be helped to find his or her vocation? If the parents are not prepared to create educational centres of this kind, then how do you expect them to come into being? That is why, sirs, I raised the question of whether parents have any relationship with their children. If the parent loves the child, this will be the consequence. He will want the child to be free in the deep sense of the word, not merely to do amusing and sensational things which are destructive. As parents, are we prepared for all this? It is because the parents do not demand it that educational centres of this kind do not exist; but the parents do demand that the children pass examinations, and so you have the thing you demand. January 27, 1955. BOMBAY 1ST PUBLIC TALK 16TH FEBRUARY 1955 I think that one of the greatest problems confronting man at this present time is the question of creativeness, how to bring about the creative release of the individual; and if we can consider the question, not merely verbally, but go into it very deeply, perhaps we shall be able to discover the full significance of that word `creativeness'. It seems to me that this is the real issue, not what kind of political reform to work for, or what kind of religion to follow. How is it possible to bring about the creative release of the individual, not only at the beginning of his existence, but throughout life? That is, how is the individual to have abundant energy rightly directed so that his life will have expansive and profound significance? If this evening we can really go into this matter, I think we shall be better able to understand the subsequent talks. I feel that revolution is necessary at the most profound level, not fragmentary revolution, but integrated revolution, a total revolution starting not from the outside but from within; and to bring about that total revolution, surely we must understand the ways of our own thought, the whole process of our thinking, which is self-knowledge. Without the foundation of self-knowledge, what we think has very little meaning. So it is important, is it not, that from the very beginning we should understand the process of our thinking, the ways of our mind; and the revolution must take place, not in any given department of thought, but in the totality of the mind itself. But before we go into that, I think it is essential to find out what it means to listen. Very few of us listen directly to what is being said, we always translate or interpret it according to a particular point of view, whether Hindu, Moslem, or Communist. We have formulations, opinions, judgments, beliefs through which we listen, so we are actually never listening at all; we are only listening in terms of our own particular prejudices, conclusions or experiences. We are always interpreting what we hear, and obviously that does not bring about understanding. What brings about understanding, surely, is to listen without any anchorage, without any definite conclusion, so that you and I can think out the problem together, whatever the problem may be. If you know the art of listening you will not only find out what is true in what is being said, but you will also see the false as false, and the truth in the false; but if you listen argumentatively, then it is fairly clear that there can be no understanding, because argument is merely your opinion against another opinion, or your judgment against another, and that actually prevents the understanding or discovery of the truth in what is being said. So, is it possible to listen without any prejudice, without any conclusion, without interpretation? Because it is fairly obvious that our thinking is conditioned, is it not? We are conditioned as Hindus, or Communists, or Christians, and whatever we. listen to, whether it is new or old, is always apprehended through the screen of this conditioning; therefore we can never approach any problem with a fresh mind. That is why it is very important to know how to listen, not only to what is being stated, but to everything. It is clearly necessary that a total revolution should take place in the individual, but such a revolution cannot take place unless there is effortless comprehension of what is truth. Effort at any level is obviously a form of destruction, and it is only when the mind is very quiet, not making an effort, that understanding takes place. But with most of us, effort is the primary thing; we think effort is essential, and that very effort to listen, to understand, prevents comprehension, the immediate perception of what is true and what is false. Now, being aware of your conditioning, and yet being free of it, can you listen so as to comprehend what is being said? Can you listen without making an effort, without interpreting, which is to give total attention? For most of us, attention is merely a process of concentration, which is a form of exclusiveness, and as long as there is the resistance of exclusive thinking, a total revolution obviously cannot take place; and it is operative, I feel, that such a revolution should take place in the individual, for only in that revolution is there creative release. So, the mind is conditioned by modern education, by society, by religion, and by the knowledge and the innumerable experiences which we have gathered; it is shaped, put into a mould, not only by our environment, but also by our own reactions to that environment and to various forms of relationship. Please bear in mind that you are not merely listening to me, but are actually observing the process of your own thinking. What I am saying is only a description of what is taking place in your own mind. If one is at all aware of one's own thinking, one will see that a mind that is conditioned, however much it may try to change, can only change within the prison of its own conditioning; and such a change is obviously not revolution. I think that is the first thing to understand: that as long as our minds are conditioned as Hindus, Moslems, or what not, any revolution is within the pattern of that conditioning and is therefore not a fundamental revolution at all. Every challenge must always be new, and as long as the mind is conditioned, it responds to challenge according to its conditioning; therefore there is never an adequate response. Now, we all know that there is a great crisis in the world at the present time; there is enormous poverty and the constant threat of war. That is the challenge; and our problem is to respond adequately, completely, totally to this challenge, which is impossible if we do not understand the process of our own thinking. Our thinking is obviously conditioned; we always respond to any challenge as Hindus, Moslems, Communists, Socialists, Christians, and so on, and that response is fundamentally inadequate; hence the conflict, the struggle, not only in the individual, but between groups, races and nations. We can respond totally, adequately, fully, only when we understand the process of our thinking and are free from our conditioning, that is, when we are no longer reacting as Hindus, Communists, or what you will, which means that our response to challenge is no longer based on our previous conditioning. When we have ceased to belong to any particular race or religion, when each one of us understands his background, frees himself from it, and pursues what is true, then it is possible to respond fully; and that response is a revolution. It is only the religious man that can bring about a fundamental revolution; but the man who has a belief, a dogma, who belongs to any particular religion, is not a religious man. The religious man is he who understands the whole process of so-called religion, the various forms of dogma, the desire to be secure through certain formulas of ritual and belief. Such an individual breaks away from the framework of organized religion, from all dogma and belief, and seeks the highest; and it is he who is truly revolutionary, because every other form of revolution is fragmentary and therefore inevitably brings about further problems. But the man who is seeking to find out what is truth, what is God, is the real revolutionary, because the discovery of what is truth is an integrated response and not a fragmentary response. Is it possible, then, for the mind to be aware of its own conditioning, and thereby bring about freedom from its conditioning? The mind's conditioning is imposed by society, by the various forms of culture, religion and education, and also by the whole process of ambition, the effort to become something, which is itself a pattern imposed on each one of us by society; and there is also the pattern which the individual creates for himself in his response to society. Now, can we as individuals be aware of our conditioning, and is it possible for the mind to break down all this limitation so that it is free to discover what is truth? Because it seems to me that unless we do free the mind from its conditioning, all our social problems, our conflicts in relationship, our wars and other miseries, are bound to increase and multiply - which is exactly what is happening in the world, not only in our private lives, but in the relationship between individuals and groups of individuals which we call society. Taking that whole picture into consideration and knowing all the significance of it, is it possible for the mind to be aware of its conditioning and liberate itself? Because it is only in freedom that there can be creativeness; but freedom is not a reaction to something. Freedom is not a reaction to the prison in which the mind is wrought, it is not the opposite of slavery. Freedom is not a motive. Surely, the mind that is seeking truth, God, or whatever name you like to give it, has no motive in itself. Most of us have a motive because all our life, in our education and in everything that we do, our action is based on a motive, the motive either of self-expansion or self-destruction. And can the mind be aware of and liberate itself from all those bondages which it has imposed upon itself in order to be secure, to be satisfied, in order to achieve a personal or a national result? I think the revolution of which I am talking is possible only when the mind is very quiet, very still. But that quietness of the mind does not come through any effort; it comes naturally, easily, when the mind understands its own process of action, which is to understand the whole significance of thinking. So the beginning of freedom is self-knowledge, and self-knowledge is not in the withdrawal from life, but is to be discovered in the relationships of our everyday existence. Relationship is the mirror in which we can see ourselves factually, without any distortion; and it is only through self-knowledge, seeing ourselves exactly as we actually are, undistorted by any interpretation or judgment, that the mind becomes quiet, still. But that stillness of mind cannot be sought after, it cannot be pursued; if you pursue and bring about stillness of mind, it has a motive, and such stillness is never still, because it is always a movement towards something and away from something. So there is freedom only through self-knowledge, which is to understand the total process of thinking. Our thinking at present is merely a reaction, the response of a conditioned mind, and any action based on such thinking is bound to result in catastrophe. To discover what is truth, what is God, there must be a mind that has understood itself, which means going into the whole problem of self-knowledge. Only then is there the total revolution which alone brings about a creative release, and that creative release is the perception of what is truth, what is God. I think it is always important to ask fundamental questions: but when we do ask a fundamental question, most of us are seeking an answer, and then the answer is invariably superficial, because there is no `yes' or `no' answer to life. Life is a movement, an endless movement, and to inquire into this extraordinary thing called life, with all its innumerable aspects, one must ask fundamental questions and never be satisfied with answers, however satisfactory they may be, because the moment you have an answer, the mind has concluded, and conclusion is not life; it is merely a static state. So what is important is to ask the right question and never be satisfied with the answer, however clever, however logical, because the truth of the question lies beyond the conclusion, beyond the answer, beyond the verbal expression. The mind that asks a question and is merely satisfied with an explanation, a verbal statement, remains superficial. It is only the mind that asks a fundamental question and is capable of pursuing that question to the end - it is only such a mind that can find out what is truth. Question: In India today we see a growing disregard of all sensitive feeling and expression. Culturally we are a feeble, imitative country; our thinking is smug and superficial. Is there a way to break through and contact the source of creativity? Can we create a new culture? Krishnamurti: Sir, this is not only a question for Indians. it is a human question, it is asked in America, in England and elsewhere. How to bring about a new culture, a creativity that is explosive, abundant, so that the mind is not imitative? A poet, a painter longs for that; so let us inquire into it. Naturally I cannot discuss this question with so many, but we are going to inquire into it, so please listen. What is civilization, what is culture as we know it now? It is the result of the collective will. is it not? The culture we know is the expression of many desires unified through religion, through a traditional moral code, through various forms of sanction. The civilization in which we live is the result of the collective will, of many acquisitive desires, and therefore we have a culture, a civilization which is also acquisitive. That is fairly clear. Now, within this acquisitive society, which is the result of the collective will, we can have many reformations, and we do occasionally bring about a bloody revolution; but it is always within the pattern, because our response to any challenge, which is always new, is limited by the culture in which we have been brought up. The culture of India is obviously imitative, traditional, it is made up of innumerable superstitions, of belief and dogma, the repetition of words, the worship of images made by the hand and by the mind. That is our culture, that is our society, broken up into various classes, all based on acquisitiveness; and if we do become non-acquisitive in this world, we are acquisitive in some other world, we want to acquire God, and so on. So our culture is essentially based on acquisitiveness, worldly and spiritual; and when occasionally there is an individual who breaks away from all acquisitiveness and knows what it is to be creative, we immediately idolize him, make him into our spiritual leader or teacher, thereby stifling ourselves. As long as we belong to the collective culture, collective civilization, there can be no creativeness. It is the man who understands this whole process of the collective, with all its sanctions and beliefs, and who ceases to be either positively or negatively acquisitive - it is only such a man who knows the meaning of creativeness, not the sannyasi who renounces the world and pursues God, which is merely his particular form of acquisitiveness. The man who realizes the whole significance of the collective, and who breaks away from it because he knows what is true religion, is a creative individual, and it is such action that brings about a new culture. Surely, that is always the way it happens, is it not? The truly religious man is not the one who practices so-called religion, who holds to certain dogmas and beliefs, who performs certain rituals, or pursues knowledge, for he is merely seeking another form of gratification. The man who is truly religious is completely free from society, he has no responsibility towards society; he may establish a relationship with society, but society has no relationship with him. Society is organized religion, the economic and social structure, the whole environment in which we have been brought up; and does that society help man to find God, truth - it matters little what name you give it - , or does the individual who is seeking God create a new society? That is, must not the individual break away from the existing society, culture, or civilization? Surely, in the very breaking away he discovers what is truth, and it is that truth which creates the new society, the new culture. I think this is an important question to ponder over. Can the man who belongs to society - it does not matter what society - ever find truth, God? Can society help the individual in that discovery, or must the individual, you and I, break away from society? Surely, it is in the very process of breaking away from society that there is the understanding of what is truth, and that truth then creates the ripples which become a new society, a new culture. The sannyasi, the monk, the hermit renounces the world, renounces society, but his whole pattern of thinking is still conditioned by society; he is still a Christian, or a Hindu, pursuing the ideal of Christianity or of Hinduism. His meditations, his sacrifices, his practices are all essentially conditioned, and therefore what he discovers as truth, as God, as the absolute, is really his own conditioned reaction. Hence society cannot help man to find out what is truth. Society's function is to limit the individual, to hold him within the boundary of respectability. Only the man who understands this whole process, whose action is not a reaction, can find out what is truth; and it is the truth that creates a new culture, not the man who pursues truth. I think this is fairly clear and simple; it sounds complicated, but it is not. Truth brings about its own action. But the man who is seeking truth and acting, however worthy and noble he may be, only creates further confusion and misery. He is like the reformer who is merely concerned with decorating the prison walls, with bringing more light, more lavatories, or what you will, into the prison. Whereas, if you understand this whole problem of how the mind is conditioned by society, if you allow truth to act and do not act according to what you think is truth, then you will find that such action brings about its own culture, its own civilization, a new world which is not based on acquisitiveness, on sorrow, on strife, on belief. It is the truth that will bring about a new society, not the Communists, the Christians, the Hindus, the Buddhists, or the Moslems. To respond to any challenge according to one's conditioning is merely to expand the prison, or to decorate its bars. It is only when the mind understands and is free from the conditioning influences which have been imposed upon it, or which it has created for itself, that there is the perception of truth; and it is the action of that truth which brings into being a new society, a new culture. That is why it is very important for a country like this not to impose upon itself the superficial culture of the West nor, because it is confused, to return to the old, to the Puranas, to the Vedas. It is only a confused mind that wants to return to something dead, and the important thing is to understand why there is confusion. There is confusion, obviously, when the mind does not understand, when it does not respond totally, integrally to something new, to any given fact. Take the fact of war, for example. If you respond to it as a Hindu who believes in ahimsa, you say, `I must practise non-violence', and if you happen to be a nationalist, your response is nationalistic. Whereas, the man who sees the truth of war, which is the fact that war is destructive in itself, and who lets that truth act, does not respond in terms of any society, in terms of any theory or reform. Truth is neither yours nor mine, and as long as the mind interprets or translates that truth, we create confusion. That is what the reformers do, what all the saints have done who have tried to bring about a reformation in a certain social order. Because they translate truth to bring about a given reform, that reform breeds more misery and hence needs further reform. To perceive what is truth, there must be a total freedom from society, which means a complete cessation of acquisitiveness, of ambition, of envy, of this whole process of becoming. After all, our culture is based on becoming somebody, it is built on the hierarchical principle: the one who knows and the one who does not know, the one who has and the one who has not. The one who has not is everlastingly struggling to have, and the one who does not know is forever pushing to acquire more knowledge. Whereas, the man who does not belong to either, his mind is very quiet, completely still, and it is only such a mind that can perceive what is truth and allow that truth to act in its own way. Such a mind does not act according to a conditioned response, it does not say, `I must reform society'. The truly religious man is not concerned with social reform, he is not concerned with improving the old, rotting society, be- cause it is truth, and not reform, that is going to create the new order. I think if one sees this very simply and very clearly, the revolution itself will take place. The difficulty is that we do not see, we do not listen, we do not perceive things directly and simply as they are. After all, it is the innocent mind - innocent though it may have lived a thousand years and had a multitude of experiences - that is creative, not the cunning mind, not the mind that is full of knowledge and technique. When the mind sees the truth of any fact and lets that truth act, that truth creates its own technique. Revolution is not within society but outside of it. Question: The fundamental problem that faces every individual is the psychological pain which corrodes all thinking and feeling. Unless you have an answer and can teach the ending of pain, all your words have little meaning. Krishnamurti: Sir, what is teaching? Is teaching merely communication, words? Why do you want to be taught? And can another teach you how to end pain? If you could be taught how to end pain, would pain cease? You may learn a technique for ending pain, physical or psychological, but in the very process of ending one particular pain, a new pain comes into being. So what is the problem, sirs? Surely, the problem is not how to end pain. I can tell you not to be greedy, not to be ambitious, not to have beliefs, to free the mind from all desire for security, to live in complete uncertainty, and so on; but those are mere words. The problem is to experience directly the state of complete uncertainty, to be without any feeling of security, and that is possible only if you understand the total process of your own thinking, or if you can listen with your whole being, be completely attentive without resistance. To end sorrow, pain, either one must understand the ways of the mind, of desire, will, choice, going into that completely, or else listen to find the truth. The truth is that as long as there is a point in the mind which is moving towards another point, that is, as long as the mind is seeking security in any form, it will never be free from pain. Security is dependency, and a mind that depends has no love. Without going through all the process of examination, observation and awareness, just listen to the fact, let the truth of the fact operate, and then you will see that the mind is free from pain. But we do neither; we neither see, observe to find out what is truth, nor do we listen to the fact with our whole being, without translating, twisting, interpreting it. That is, we neither pursue self-knowledge, which also brings an end to pain, nor do we merely observe the fact without distortion, as we look at our face in the mirror. All that we want is to know how to end pain, we want a ready-made formula by which to end it, which means, really, that we are lazy, there is not that extraordinary energy which is necessary to pursue the understanding of the self. It is only when we understand the self - not according to Shankara, Buddha, or Christ, but as it actually is in each one of us in relation to people, to ideas and to things - that there is the cessation of pain. February 16, 1955. BOMBAY 2ND PUBLIC TALK 20TH FEBRUARY 1955 One of our greatest difficulties is the understanding of the whole significance of desire, For most of us, de- sire has become an urge which must be controlled, guided, shaped, and given impetus in a certain direction, but I would like to talk about it this evening from a different point of view altogether, which to me is the truth. If we can understand desire, which is really very complex, then perhaps we shall be able to bring about quite a different action in our daily life. If instead of trying to control, sublimate, or transcend desire, we can be confronted with the fact of desire and begin to understand its ways, then I think there will come about a totally different kind of attention. But the difficulty is going to be that most of us have opinions about desire, we want to suppress it in order to achieve a state of desirelessness, or we are caught up in it so vehemently and persistently that the mind becomes a confusing field of contradictory thoughts. Now, I am not going to indulge in any theory, in any speculation, I am going to deal only with the fact and not with anything else. So, if I may suggest, please just listen to what is being said here without relating it to your previous conclusions; just let your mind follow it without interfering, and I think you will find that an extraordinary thing takes place in spite of yourself. If you can listen in that manner so that you are confronted with the fact and do not translate what you hear in terms of what you know, or in terms of what has been said by Shankara, Buddha, or anyone else with regard to desire, then you will find that a peculiar thing happens: the very fact itself brings about an action. The mind may give opinions or ideas about the fact, but it cannot deal with the fact. All it can do is to look at the fact, and in the very process of observation, in the very awareness of the fact, there begins a radical transformation. It is the fact itself that alters the way of thinking, and not the multiplication of opinions or conclusions about the fact. So, let us quietly talk over together this whole problem of desire. After all, desire is energy, energy which is outward going, and because it is assertive, dominating, powerful, society tries to control and shape it. Society is the product of that desire, which seeks to shape itself in order to be more efficient and to function within the limits of social morality. Again, that is a simple fact. This outward-going desire, which is energy must be controlled, shaped, guided, disciplined - at least, that is what society, what religions and our own compulsive urges demand. But in the very process of disciplining desire, there is frustration, because anything that is blocked must find a way out. Surely, sirs, everywhere there are blockages of desire established by society: thou shalt do this and not that, this is right and that is wrong, and so on. All the religious books, all the teachers, and our own pain and pleasure, indicate that desire must be shaped, controlled, disciplined, and in that very process there is frustration, there is conflict, not only at the superficial level, but also at the deeper levels of our consciousness. If there were no blockages, if this outward-going desire, this outward going energy were given freedom, there would be no frustration; but society, conventional morality, our whole education, and our own fears, all shape, control and block it, and that very blocking is frustration. This is a very simple psychological fact in our everyday life, it is not a philosophical speculation. So this outward-going energy meets a wall of social morality, of so-called religion, and all the rest of it and then it begins to recoil inwardly. This inward recoil is not a free movement, it is merely a reaction. That is outward-going energy has met a blockage in its forward movement, so it reacts inwardly and says, `I must be noble, I must be good, I must be unselfish, I must find God'. Whether this inward movement is superficial or deep, it is still only a recoil, and this whole process of outward-going and inward-going energy is the movement of the self, the `me'. Again, this is an observable, experienceable fact, it is not a theory, an opinion. This outward and inward movement of desire creates a society, a culture, a religion and a relationship based on the `I', the self, and in this movement, energy becomes less and less, because it is a process of self-enclosure. When desire is controlled, disciplined, it may act efficiently, but it loses its tremendous vitality. Please just listen to what I am saying, don't translate it in terms of what you have learnt. Our problem is this. In the process of its outward and inward movement, this extraordinary energy, desire, gets throttled, because through pain and pleasure the `I' learns to control, to shape, to guide desire; that is, by its own activity, energy is conditioning itself. Watch this process actually taking place in yourself, and you will quickly see what it means. The moment thought says, `I must suppress, shape, discipline desire, I must canalize energy to make it efficient, moral, socially respectable', and all the rest of it, in that very process energy is decreased, destroyed; and one needs tremendous free energy, not disciplined energy, to find out what is truth or God. So it is not a matter of suppressing, sublimating, controlling desire, but what matters is for this outward and inward movement of desire to come to an end. Is this all too difficult, sirs? I do not think so. You see, our minds want examples, details, practical applications, but that is not the first question. The first question is to understand the whole process, and then we can work out the details. So let us look at this whole thing, and not ask how it is to be made practical. Once you understand the full significance of this extraordinary phenomenon of the outward and inward movement of desire, which is energy, you will find that that very understanding brings about its own action which is much more practical than the `practicality' we practise now. What is it that we are doing now? There is outward-going energy, which is desire, which is thought, and in its outward movement this energy is blocked, so there is frustration, there is pain, suffering. Therefore desire withdraws and seeks inwardly for a state in which there will be no pain, a permanent state of peace. This turning inward of the mind in search of a state in which it will not be disturbed, in which it will have a sense of peace, security, is merely a reaction; so the opposites are created. Meeting frustration in its outward movement, desire turns inward, and this very turning inward sets going the dual process of the outer and the inner, the whole conflict of duality. Now, must not this outward and inward movement of desire cease in order that energy shall be released in a totally different direction? Do you understand the question, sirs? I have a desire, and that desire is frustrated by society, and by my own moral sanctions; being frustrated, there is fear, pain, suffering, and then desire seeks inwardly for a state in which there will be no suffering, in which there will be peace, a permanent tranquillity, and so on. Once it went outward, and now it is recoiling within, but it is still the same movement of desire. This movement is the self, the `me', it is self-enclosing, and therefore energy is becoming less and less. Desire, instead of releasing energy like a river, instead of creating tremendous vitality, complete abandonment, through the very disciplining of itself destroys energy, and that is what is happening to most of the people in the world. But you must have complete abandonment, tremendous attentive energy to find out what is truth, God. Our problem, then, is not how to be without desire, or how to suppress or sublimate it, but to understand this outward and inward movement of desire, which creates its own narrowing discipline in the shape of individual and social sanctions, thereby gradually destroying this extraordinary energy. That is what is happening in our daily life, is it not? I put out my hand in friendship to somebody, and he hits it; but I have ideals, and instead of attacking the man I withdraw my hand and begin to cultivate compassion, goodness, kindness. Therefore that energy is not set free, but is being dissipated through inner conflict. So our problem is how to bring about a state of energy which is completely still, so that that energy can be used by reality in any direction it wishes. At present we only know this outward and inward movement of desire which has produced all kinds of misery, mischief, passing joys, and a culture based on the search for security; and whether that desire is seeking within or without, it is essentially the same movement. Now, can that outward and inward movement come to an end? Please listen. The mind cannot make it come to an end, because any effort on the part of the mind to bring that movement to an end is still the same desire moving in another direction, and therefore a dissipation of energy. So the mind has got into a vicious circle. But if this energy, which is everlastingly going outward or recoiling within, can become still without any form of compulsion, if it can be quiet, free from all outward and inward movement, then you will find that, like a river, this energy creates its own right action because it is free from the self. Being still, energy perceives what is truth; then energy itself is truth, and that truth creates its own movement, which is not the movement of going out or recoiling within. If one has understood all this, then discipline will have quite a different meaning; but at present discipline is merely conflict, conformity, and is therefore destroying energy. Look at what has happened to almost all of us. We have conformed to such an extent that we no longer have any creative energy, there is no initiative left in us; and it is only the man who has this creative energy, this enormous initiative, that finds out what is truth, not the man who conforms, who disciplines, shapes his desires. What I am describing is a fact, not a theory or a mere idea, and if you listen to the fact, perceive it as it actually is without any judgment or conclusion, without any sense of resistance, then the fact itself will operate, and that is true revolution. The revolution brought about by a cunning mind, whether it be the mind of a Marx, a Shankara, or a Buddha, is no revolution at all. There is revolution only when this outward and inward movement of desire comes to an end without compulsion. Any form of compulsion, any effort of the mind to shape desire in a particular direction, is still part of the same movement. It is only when this movement stops that there is a quietness which is rich, full, vital, and in that quietness there is abundance of energy and not the diminution of energy. Then that which is quiet is the real, and the real produces its own action, its own activity. So, it is not a matter of suppressing desire; but don't immediately ask, `Then can I do what I like?' You try doing what you like and you will see how difficult it is. Your parents, your grandmother, your neighbours, your religion and society, everything about you says `do' and `don't', so your mind is already conditioned; and any movement of a conditioned mind, whether outward or inward, is still part of its conditioning. Only when that movement ceases - but not in terms of discipline or the edicts of society - is there freedom. Freedom is not a reaction, it is not freedom from something; it is a state of being, and it is only in that state that energy is free to create. This is very simple to understand, it does not need a great deal of mental training or the reading of books on philosophy, and if you really grasp it you will see that there is a totally different kind of action taking place in your life. Then there is no conflict, and where there is no conflict there is more energy, greater vitality. In the mind that is free from this outward and inward movement. there is immense attention, not fixed at any point. Attention which is directed is not attention at all, it is concentration; but attention without a fixed point is total awareness, and in that state the mind is creative, awake. And to find what is real, the mind must have this extraordinary energy, which is really the capacity to give complete attention without having any incentive. Our attention now is always with an incentive, a motive, and in that there is fear, conflict, strain, and the dissipation of energy. Question: Please tell us plainly who you are and by what authority you speak. Your presence and your words intoxicate me. Is not intoxication bad in any form? Krishnamurti: Surely, sir, who the speaker is, or by what authority he speaks, is not very important. There is no authority, he is only explaining what is the fact. He is not giving any system of philosophy, any method of meditation, or panacea, but is merely describing the fact, because the fact is the truth. Our minds are generally incapable of looking at facts without distorting them, but the mind that can look at a fact without opinion, without judgment, without a conclusion, such a mind is free, and a free mind brings its own authority. Not that you must obey, follow it, or be intoxicated by it; on the contrary, you must not follow, nor must you be intoxicated, for then you might as well take a drink. It is the lazy mind that so easily gets intoxicated, whether by a ritual, by a speech, or by some person in authority. "Is not intoxication bad in any form?" Surely. But why do we look at everything in terms of good and bad, sirs? What is important is to see that intoxication in any form distorts one's own thinking, whether it be the intoxication of a Hitler or of any other person. the intoxication of an Utopia according to the Communists, or the intoxication of drink. And if you listen to the truth but do not let it operate, it poisons you. Please follow this. If you listen and see the truth for yourself, yet do not give it freedom to operate, then that very perception breeds the poison of conflict which is going to destroy you. That is, if you see what is true and do something else, the contradiction is a poison which destroys all your energy. That is why it is much better not to come to these meetings, sirs, if you want to remain as you are. It is good to be without the affliction of conflict, contradiction, pain, suffering; but to have that goodness, that tranquillity in which there is no conflict, you must allow the truth to operate, it must not be you who operate on the truth. To follow another, to be mesmerized by words, by books, by a strong personality, creates conflict and dissipates that extraordinary energy which is necessary to find out what is truth. What is important is to find out what is truth and let that truth bring about its own action. Question: What is this self-knowledge of which you speak, and how can I acquire it? What is the starting point? Krishnamurti: Now again, please listen carefully, because you have extraordinary ideas about self-knowledge: that to have self-knowledge you must practise, you must meditate, you must do all kinds of things. It is very simple, sir. The first step is the last step in self-knowledge, the beginning is the end. The first step is what matters, because self-knowledge is not something you can learn from another. No one can teach you self-knowledge, you have to find out for yourself; it must be your own discovery, and that discovery is not something tremendous, fantastic, it is very simple. After all, to know yourself is to watch your behaviour, your words, what you do in your everyday relationships, that is all. Begin with that and you will see how extraordinarily difficult it is to be aware, just to watch the manner of your behaviour, the words you use to your servant, to your boss, the attitude you have with regard to people, to ideas and to things. Just watch your thoughts, your motives, in the mirror of relationship, and you will see that the moment you watch you want to correct, you say, `This is good, that is bad, I must do this and not that'. When you see yourself in the mirror of relationship, your approach is one of condemnation or justification, therefore you distort what you see. Whereas, if you simply observe in that mirror your attitude with regard to people, to ideas and to things, if you just see the fact without judgment, without condemnation or acceptance, then you will find that that very perception has its own action. That is the beginning of self-knowledge. To watch yourself, to observe what you do, what you think, what your motives and incentives are, and yet not condemn or justify, is an extraordinarily difficult thing to do, because your whole culture is based on condemnation, judgment and evaluation; you have been brought up on `Do this and not that'. But if you can look in the mirror of relationship without creating the opposite, then you will find that there is no end to self-knowledge. You see, the inquiry into self-knowledge is an outward movement which later turns inward; first we look at the stars, and then we look within ourselves. In the same way, we look for reality, for God, for security, happiness, in the objective world, and when it is not found there, we turn inward. This search for the inner God, the higher self, or what you will, completely ceases through self-knowledge, and then the mind becomes very quiet, not through discipline, but just through understanding, through watching, through being aware of itself every minute without choice. Don't say, `I must be aware every minute', because that is just another manifestation of our foolishness when we want to get somewhere, when we want to arrive at a particular state. What matters is to be aware of yourself and to keep on being aware without accumulating, because the moment you accumulate, from that centre you judge. Self-knowledge is not a process of accumulation, it is a process of dis- covery from moment to moment in relationship. Question: I am old and I can no longer escape from the imminent approach of death. How can I face it unafraid? Krishnamurti: I do not think this is a problem only for the old, it is a problem for all of us. Now, what is death, and why is there fear of death? Either that fear exists because of the unknown tomorrow, or because death means letting go of the known. Do you understand? Either we are afraid of the unknown future, of what lies beyond, or of losing the known, the known being `my family', `my virtue', `my bank account', `my friends', all the things which we have gathered and which we cherish, the things we cling to. All that is the known, and we are afraid to let go of that; or we are afraid of the unknown something which lies beyond. That is the fact. Now, we always want to know what happens beyond death, whether there is survival or annihilation. think that is a wrong question, sirs. The right question is whether it is possible to know death while living, to enter the house of death consciously while you are vital, full of health, not when you are drugged by disease or when you are losing your consciousness through the inevitable process of old age. Can you know what death is now, while you are living, conscious, while you have vitality, energy, while you have no overwhelming disease? That is the question, sirs; because when you know what death is, then there is no fear of death, then all the theories, the beliefs, the hopes and fears are gone. So let us go into this question together, you and I. The question is not what life will be like in the unknown future, or whether you will continue beyond death, or how to let go of the known, but whether it is possible to know death while living, to enter the house of death while fully conscious, with complete awareness. That is the question, and it is an extraordinarily vital one, is it not? The old man full of years, and the young man who is going to be full of years, will both have the same end; and can they both know now what death means? You put yourself that question, sir. I am putting it for you, but you put it to yourself; and if you put it to yourself with vigour, with attention, with earnestness, you will find the answer. What does death mean? Please listen. What does death mean? Not the unknown, but letting the known go completely. the known being the thousand yesterdays with all their memories, experiences, knowledge, joys and pains. To let all that go is to be completely alone which is not loneliness, with its fear and ugliness, but a state of complete dissociation from the past. That state of aloneness is the death which we fear. We are afraid to be cut off from the known cut off from our families, our friends cut off from all the things which we want. But aloneness is not mere isolation, it is an extraordinarily rich state, a state of incorruption, because aloneness implies the cutting away of all knowledge, all experience, experience being a form of continuity through memory. Do listen, sirs, and don't say, `I must be alone, and how am I to be in that state?' It is the foolish mind, the lazy mind that asks how. But a mind that is really attentive to what is being said, that is not mesmerized by words, will be in that state in which the mind is no longer contaminated by the past, or by the edicts and compulsions, of society. Then the mind is totally innocent, it is a fresh mind, a new mind, and such a mind alone has no fear of death. If you have really listened to this you will find that, simply and without any kind of problem, an awakening comes, and then you will observe that your mind is cleansed by the very strange miracle of listening to what is a fact. When you listen to the fact without resistance, you have a fresh mind, a mind no longer caught by the conclusions of the past, and only such a mind is without fear. Because it is alone, such a mind is the external, the real, for truth is alone from moment to moment. Truth is not continuous. The moment you think in terms of continuity, you have already accumulated a fact of yesterday. Only the mind which is fresh, innocent, alone, can see the truth, and such a mind is in a state of constantly is renewed discovery of what is truth. February 20, 1955. BOMBAY 3RD PUBLIC TALK 23TH FEBRUARY 1955 One of the fundamental issues that we are all faced with is the choice between good and bad. Choice implies conflict, and conflict, surely, is a destructive element, a waste of energy. We know this conflict in our daily existence, the everlasting struggle to maintain the good and to avoid evil; and it seems to me not only that this conflict is a dissipation of energy, but that the very struggle to choose and maintain the good destroys creative release. And is it possible not to choose, and thereby have no conflict, but always to maintain that which is good? I do not know if you have thought about this problem at all. Most of us are caught in the conflict created by the choice between good and bad, but if one is at all alert and awake to the issue, one observes that this conflict is a continual waste of energy; and surely one needs a great deal of energy to find out what is truth. The attempt to maintain the good through effort, through struggle, through choice invariably dissipates energy, and the good then becomes merely a non-creative action, a reaction to the bad, which is a form of frustration. So, the conflict between good and bad is destructive, degenerative, as all conflicts are; and is it possible not to have conflict between good and bad, but always to maintain that which is good without introducing the element of choice? This is really a very important question, because it is this maintenance of the good without choice that brings about the fullness of energy, and only then is it possible for the mind to be still. That is, to have a quiet mind, a still mind, one needs a great deal of energy, and that immense energy cannot come into being as long as energy is dissipated through conflict of any kind. Any form of choice is conflict, and is it possible to lead a life in which there is no choice at all? Now, how is one to maintain the good without conflict? Perhaps you have never put this question to yourself, because you are used to the everlasting struggle between that which is evil and that which is good. Your whole outlook, your way of life, your social and religious structure, all condition the mind to choose between good and evil; and is it possible not to have this struggle at all, but at the same time to maintain that which is good? Do you understand the question? Most of us are used to conflicts, and all conflict is obviously a waste of energy. One needs tremendous energy for the mind to be still, and only a still mind can find that which is the truth, the eternal, the highest. Stillness of mind is not the outcome of practice, of choice, of the struggle to achieve a result; but our whole life, from childhood till we die, is a constant battle between that which is good and that which is evil, between what is and what should be. Our life is a ceaseless effort to become something; and is it possible for the mind to be without this conflict? I think this is an important question to ask ourselves: not how to achieve and maintain goodness, but whether it is at all possible to maintain goodness and yet not be caught in the conflict of the opposites? It is possible only when we realize what an extraordinarily destructive thing conflict is, not only within ourselves but outwardly. After all, the conflict without is a projection of the conflict within. But we do not see the falseness of conflict. We accept conflict as part of life, and we think it is necessary for various reasons, for progress, for inquiry, for every form of achievement; we are used to it, we are conditioned to think in that way. Now, is action without conflict at all possible? Surely it is possible only when we love what we are doing; but in our hearts we love nothing, and so action is this process of conflict which is continually going on. I do not know if you have noticed that when you love to do something there is no conflict in it at all, action is entirely stripped of conflicting elements; there may be various forms of obstruction, but that very action is the overcoming of the obstruction. So, is it possible to love the good, and not have this endless conflict between the good and the bad? Please, there is no method. The moment you have a method, that very method is a process of struggle to achieve a result. What matters is for the mind to be fairly quiet so that it is capable of receiving that which is true. Now, I am saying that every form of struggle is destructive, that in conflict there is no love, and that when you love something completely, all conflict ceases. Just listen to this, see the fact as it is, neither accepting nor rejecting it; let your mind inquire, go into it, see the truth of it without effort, without resistance. Then you will find that the maintenance of the good is not such an extraordinary thing, that it is possible to love and to maintain the good without conflict; and this implies attention. When you love something or some person, you are full of attention, and it is that attention which has the quality of goodness. Desire is energy, and when we treat it as something evil, to be suppressed, controlled, shaped according to the sanctions of religion and society, desire becomes destructive - which does not mean that we must yield to every form of desire. Mere control of desire, without understanding the whole process of desire, destroys that extraordinary energy which is required to find the eternal. In creative energy lies a life of goodness, a life in which the eternal is not absent; but such a life is possible only when we understand the whole process of conflict. Conflict exists as long as there is the outward movement of desire, which meets with frustration and then recoils. This movement, with its frustration and recoil, sets going the conflict between good and bad, and as long as there is this movement there can be no goodness. Goodness can come into being only when the mind is really very still, and that stillness arises only when there is abundance of energy. That is why the question of discipline is very important. We use discipline to achieve a result. Psychologically, inwardly, we discipline ourselves in order to maintain the good, and the discipline itself is a process of conflict. It is a conflict between one desire as opposed to another, and this conflict of desires is a dissipation of energy. So, is it possible for the mind to inquire, to go into and see the truth of all this, and then to let that truth operate without pursuing or operating upon the truth? This whole process is true meditation. Sirs, why do we ask questions? Is it to find an answer, a solution to a problem, or is it to explore the problem? If the mind is merely concerned with the solution, with seeking an answer to the problem, it is restricted and therefore incapable of exploring the problem. In considering these questions we are concerned, surely, with the exploration of the problem, and that very exploration of the problem is its own answer. It is not necessary to seek a solution to the problem, for in the very process of exploring the problem you will find the solution. And that is what we are going to do: to explore, to investigate the problem together. But to be capable of exploring any problem, the mind must be free of conclusions, it must not be tethered to any form of experience or belief. And when the mind is free of conclusions, of experiences, when it is no longer tethered to a belief, then has it any problem? It is only the mind that clings to a belief, that has a conclusion, that approaches life through a series of experiences which are the reactions of a particular conditioning it is only such a mind that creates problems. But if the mind is aware of how problems are created and is capable of exploring, of inquiring into a problem without a conclusion and without seeking a solution, then surely the problem ceases. Question: You say that to be creative there must be complete abandonment, and yet there must also be austerity. Can the two exist together? Krishnamurti: Sir, what is beauty, and how does the state of creative beauty come into being? Obviously, there must be love. And love means total abandonment, does it not? Not abandonment through desire, but the abandonment in which there is no sense of restriction, no hope of achieving a result, and therefore no fear. There can be complete abandonment only when there is no self, no `me; and when there is no self, in that abandonment is there not austerity, simplicity? To most people austerity means the destruction of beauty about them. Outwardly they deny all worldliness and have only a few things, but inwardly they are not at all simple; on the contrary, they are extraordinarily complex, full of burning desires, longing to achieve a certain result. Surely, that is not austerity. But to be austere does not mean the denial of desire. Please listen. Abandonment comes only when the self is not, but the self cannot be destroyed by merely suppressing desire. After all, desire is energy, and if you destroy energy, nothing is possible. You need tremendous energy for the mind to be still, to find out what is God, what is truth, and if that energy is controlled, shaped through fear, through every form of conditioning, then it cannot flow with abandon it cannot be free; and yet when that energy is free, it will create its own austerity. It is this abandonment with austerity that makes for beauty, and then it is love. If one has no love, how can one appreciate beauty or create that which is beautiful? But there is no love as long as there is no abandonment, and that abandonment will come into being only when there is no `me', no self. So this creative state can arise only when there is love, abandonment and austerity; but mere austerity without abandonment, without love, has no meaning at all. The problem, then, is not how to be austere, not how to abandon or put away the self, but to inquire into what we mean by love. You see, we have divided love as the divine and the earthly, and so we have created a battle between the urge of the flesh and the urge to seek the divine, between the noble love and the physical love. And is it possible to love, not divinely or physically, but just to have the goodness and the perfume of love in one's heart with all the things of the mind removed from it? Surely, that is possible only when we give our hearts to something completely; then there is no conflict, then there is abandonment, and that very abandonment creates its own austerity, as a river creates the banks which hold it. But the respectability of society has no place in this austere abandonment. What society demands is respectability, control, mediocrity; but a mediocre mind cannot abandon itself, it is neither hot nor cold, it is full of fears, apprehensions, and such a mind cannot possibly know what love is. Most of us are merely controlled by the sanctions of society, by the social morality which says, `This is good and that is bad; we are caught in the conflict between what is and what should be, and that is why we have ceased to love. We are merely imitative machines, so we never know that state of abandonment in which there is austerity and which is the only creative state. You cannot find God, that which is truth, without total abandonment, without being free of all belief, all dogma, all fear, which means opening your heart completely and not filling it with the things of the mind. There can be goodness, generosity, only when the mind is quiet; beauty, that something which is really God, which is love, which is truth, comes into being only when there is complete abandonment of the self. And the self cannot be abandoned by any regulation, by any practice, by any meditation. The self must cease through awareness of its own limitation, the falseness of its own existence. However deep, wide and extensive it may become, the self is always limited, and until it is abandoned, the mind can never be free. The mere perception of that fact is the ending of the self, and only then is it possible for that which is the real to come into being. Question: You spoke the other day of the urgency of total attention. Please explain what you mean by total attention. Krishnamurti: It is not a question of what I mean by total attention, but let us inquire into it together, and then perhaps we shall be able to find out what total attention is. What do we mean by attention? You are listening to what is being said, and you have other thoughts; your mind goes wandering off, and you pull it back in order to listen. Is that attention? You want to look out of the window because you are bored with what is taking place in the room, but politeness and courtesy demand that you listen, so you pull your thought back from the sea and listen. Is that attention? Is there attention when you make an effort to listen, when you try to concentrate in order to understand, in order to find out? That is what you do, is it not? You make an effort to listen, and that process of concentration is really exclusion; you want to think of other things, but you force your mind to come back because you want to get somewhere or achieve a result. Is there attention as long as there is incentive? A schoolboy pays attention when the teacher tells him to because he has the incentive of passing an examination. Such attention is effort, concentration, which is the exclusion of every other thought and putting your mind on a particular thought in order to achieve a result. So there is an incentive, a motive; and as long as there is this motive to achieve something, is there attention? That is the concentration which we all know and in which there is obviously exclusion, the shutting out of everything else in order to concentrate on a particular subject. Surely, that is not attention, is it? If there is effort, is there attention? And there must be effort as long as there is incentive. Now, is attention possible without incentive, without motive? We know attention or concentration through motive; I want to meditate, or I want to pass an examination, or I want to achieve a certain position, so I exclude everything else and concentrate. If I do not exclude, I dissipate, so in order not to dissipate I force myself to concentrate, which is a process of exclusion. This involves a constant strain, a constant waste of energy, because there is effort, resistance; and where there is resistance, is there attention? Attention, surely, means a state of mind in which there is no resistance. The moment you create resistance you are merely concentrating, which is entirely different from attention. How, if you are listening to what is being said, not in order a find God, or to get somewhere, or to achieve a result, but without any incentive so that there is no strain of any kind, then you will discover that your mind is so extensively aware that you are also listening to the crows, to the train, to the noise of busses, to all the various sounds; and when there is this attention without motive, without incentive, it can turn to concentration without exclusion, it can look, observe, watch, without resistance. You try and you will find out for yourself that as long as there is mere concentration there must be effort; even though you are so interested in what you are doing that you are absorbed in it, such concentration is a process of exclusion and therefore there is resistance. Absorption is not attention, because in absorption there is exclusion. Concentration is not attention, because in it there is incentive, motive; and where there is incentive, motive, there must be resistance. Whereas, if you listen to this, which is an obvious fact, and understand the truth of it, then you will see that there is attention without incentive, attention without any fixed point; the mind is not resisting, it is completely open, and such a mind, being full of attention, can turn and concentrate without resistance. Sirs, when there is a moment of creativeness, of great joy, there is no resistance. In that moment of creative reality the mind is completely quiet and attentive, it has no motive. The translation of what it has seen into words, into a poem, into some form of communication, may require concentration, a focussing - let us leave out the word `concentration' - , but that focussing is not resistance. All that we know is resistance, which means really that we are doing things which we do not love; our hearts are not in what we do, and so the mind has to invent motives or incentives in order to achieve. But if you understand the whole process of incentive, concentration, effort, see the actual fact of it, how your mind operates, then you will also see what an extraordinary thing it is to have attention without motive, a mind that is completely alert, fully aware, sensitive. Only such a mind can focus without resistance. Question: What do you mean by aloneness? Krishnamurti: Sir, let us find out. Now, to find out, please give attention, if I may use that word - attention, not merely to what I am saying, but to the working of your own mind. Be aware of your own mind, not in order to alter it, not in order to make it more beautiful, more this and less that, but just be aware, attentive, and we shall find out together what it means to be alone. I think most of us know what it means to be lonely, we are familiar with that extraordinary fear, anxiety, which comes from the self-enclosing process of the mind, and which we call loneliness. Have you not felt, at one time or another in your life, a sense of complete isolation? There comes a certain barrier, a sense of destruction, of frustration, or the cessation of all relationships. Surely we have all felt this; and having felt it we are afraid of it, we run away from it, so we turn to religions. Please watch your own mind, you are not merely listening to me. This is actually what is happening to all of us, to human being everywhere. Because we are lonely we want to be loved; because we are lonely we turn on the radio, go to the cinema, and seek every other form of distraction, noble and ignoble, religious and non-religious. This is our life. We do not want to face the state of loneliness, which is extraordinarily fearful - at least we think it is fearful - , so we run away, we escape, we take flight from that loneliness. We seek companionship, love, we have a wife or a husband, we worship an authority, and so on, always depending on another through some form of attachment, because then we do not have to face in ourselves that which is lonely, which is empty, which is so completely self-enclosing. Whether you accept it or not, that is the actual fact, it is what is happening psychologically to most people. Now, if you can look at the emptiness, that sense of being cut off from all relationships, without escape, if you can be with it without fear, without trying to fill it or alter it in any way, then you will find that it is really the complete abandonment of society, an aloneness which is not an escape, but which has no recognition by society. Do you understand what that means? Society is a process of recognition; one is recognized as a saint, as a writer, as a good man, as a bad man, as a Capitalist, a Communist, or whatever you like. In breaking away from all that the mind is completely alone, not lonely, but alone. It is no longer influenced by society, it is completely dissociated from all recognition, therefore it is capable of being alone. Surely, there must be such aloneness for reality to be. Only the mind that is alone, incorrupt, innocent, though it may have thousands of years of experience - only such a mind is capable of perceiving that which is God, truth. And that is possible only when we face loneli- ness, this loneliness in our hearts which we try to cover up by every means: by so-called love, by distraction, through worship, through amusements, through knowledge. When the mind sees the futility of all that and remains with that which is completely self-enclosing, limiting, empty, then in that emptiness there comes aloneness. Then the mind is fresh, alone, innocent, and it is only such a mind that receives the eternal. February 23, 1955 BOMBAY 4TH PUBLIC TALK 27TH FEBRUARY 1955 I think most of us must be greatly concerned with the problem of action. When we are confronted with so many issues - poverty, overpopulation, the extraordinary development of machinery, industrialization, the sense of deterioration inwardly and outwardly - what is one to do? What is the duty or the responsibility of an individual in his relation to society? This must be a problem to all thoughtful people; and the more intelligent, the more active one is, the more one wants to throw oneself into social reform of some kind or other. So what is one's real responsibility? I think this question can be answered fully and with vital significance only if we understand the whole purpose of civilization, of culture. After all, we have built the present society, it is the outcome of our individual relationships; and does this society fundamentally help man to find reality, God, or what name you will? Or is it merely a pattern which determines our response to the issue as to what kind of action we should take in our relationship to society? If the present culture, civilization, does not help man to find God, truth, it is a hindrance; and if it is a hindrance, then every reform, every activity for its amelioration is a further deterioration, a further hindrance to the discovery of reality, which alone can bring about true action. I think it is very important to understand this, and not merely be concerned with what kind of social reform or activity one should identify oneself with. Surely that is not the problem. The problem is obviously much deeper. One may very easily get lost in some kind of activity or social reform, and then it is a means of escape, a means of forgetting or sacrificing oneself through action; but I do not think that will solve our many problems. Our problems are much more profound and we need a profound answer, which I think we shall find if we can go into this question as to whether the culture we have at present - culture implying religion, the whole social and moral framework - helps man to find reality. If it does not, then the mere reformation of such a culture or civilization is a waste of time; but if it is helpful to man in the true sense, then all of us must give our hearts completely to its reformation. On that, I think, the issue depends. By culture we mean the whole problem of thought, do we not? With most of us, thought is the outcome of various forms of conditioning, of education, of conformity, of the pressures and influences to which it is subjected within the framework of a particular civilization. At present our thought is shaped by society, and unless there is a revolution in our thinking, the mere reformation of a superficial culture or society seems to me a distraction, a factor which will ultimately bring about greater misery. After all, what we call civilization is a process of educating thought in the Hindu mould, in the Christian or the Communist mould, and so on; and can thinking so educated ever create a fundamental revolution? Will any pressure, any shaping of thought, bring about the discovery or the understanding of what is truth? Surely, thought must free itself from all pressure, which means really from society, from all forms of influence, and thereby find out what is truth; then that very truth has an action of its own which will bring about an altogether different culture. That is, does society exist for the unfolding of reality, or must one be free of society to find reality? If society helps man to find reality, then every kind of reformation within society is essential; but if it is a hindrance to that discovery, should not the individual break away from society and seek what is truth? It is only such a person who is truly religious, not the man who performs various rituals, or who approaches life through theological patterns; and when the individual frees himself from society and seeks reality, does he not bring about in his very search a different culture? I think this is an important issue, because most of us are merely concerned with reformation. We see poverty, overpopulation, every form of disintegration, division and conflict; and seeing all that, what is one to do? Should one start by joining a particular group, or by working for some ideology? Is that the function of a religious man? The religious man, surely, is he who seeks reality, and not the man who reads and quotes the Gita, or who goes to the temple every day. That is obviously not religion, it is merely the compulsion, the conditioning of thought by society.. So what is the earnest man to do, the man who sees the necessity for and desires to bring about an immediate revolution? Shall he work for reformation within the framework of society? Society is a prison, and shall he merely reform the prison, decorating its bars and getting things done more beautifully within its walls? Surely, the man who is very much in earnest, who is really religious, is the only revolutionary, there is no other; and such a man is he who is seeking reality, who is trying to find out what is God or truth. Now, what is to be the action of such a man? What shall he do? Shall he work within the present society, or shall he break away from it and not be concerned with society at all? The breaking away does not mean becoming a sannyasi, a hermit, isolating himself with peculiar hypnotic suggestions; and yet he cannot be a reformer, because it is a waste of energy, of thought, of creativity for the earnest man to indulge in mere reformations. Then what shall the earnest man do? If he does not want to decorate the prison walls, remove a few bars, introduce a little more light, if he is not concerned with all that, and if he also sees the importance of bringing about a fundamental revolution, radical change in the relationship between man and man - the relationship which has created this appalling society in which there are immensely rich people, and those who have absolutely nothing, both inwardly and outwardly - then what is he to do? I think it is important to put this question to oneself. After all, does culture come into being through the action of truth, or is culture man-made? If it is man-made, it will obviously not lead you to truth. And our culture is man-made, because it is based on various forms of acquisitiveness, not only in worldly things, but also in the so- called spiritual things; it is the outcome of the desire for position in every form, self-aggrandizement, and so on. Such a culture obviously cannot lead man to the realization of that which is the supreme; and if I see that, what shall I then do? What will you do, sirs, if you actually realize that society is an impediment? Society is not merely one or two activities, it is the whole structure of human relationship in which all creativeness has ceased, in which there is constant imitation; it is a framework of fear where education is mere conformity and in which there is no love at all, but merely action according to a pattern described as love. In this society the principal factors are recognition and respectability, because that is what we are all striving for - to be recognized. Our capacities, our knowledge must be recognized by society so that we shall be somebodies. When he realizes all this and sees the poverty, the starvation, the fragmentation of the mind into various forms of belief, what is the earnest man to do? Now, if we really listen to what is being said, listen in the sense of wanting to find out what is truth so that there is not the conflict of your opinion opposed to my opinion, or your temperament opposed to mine; if we can set all that aside and try to find out what is truth, which requires love, then I think in that very love, in that sense of goodness we shall find the truth which creates a new culture. Then one is free of society, one is not concerned with the reformation of society. But to find out what is truth requires love, and our hearts are empty, for they are filled with the things of society. Being filled, we try to reform, and our reformation is without the perfume of love. So what is a man to do who is earnest? Shall he seek truth, God, or what name you will, or shall he give his heart and mind to the improvement of society, which is really the improvement of himself? Do you understand, sirs? Shall he inquire into what is truth, or shall he improve the conditions of society, which is his own improvement? Shall he improve himself in the name of society, or shall he seek truth, in which there is no improvement at all? Improvement implies time, time to become, whereas truth has nothing to do with time, it is to be perceived immediately. So the problem is extraordinarily significant, is it not? We may talk about the reformation of society, but it is still the reformation of oneself. And for the man who is seeking what is real, what is truth, there is no reformation of the self; on the contrary, there is the total cessation of the self, which is society, therefore he is not concerned with the reformation of society. The whole structure of society is based on a process of recognition and respectability; and surely, sirs, an earnest man cannot seek the reformation of society, which is the improvement of himself. In reforming society, in identifying himself with something good, he may think he is sacrificing himself, but it is still self-improvement. Whereas, for the man who is seeking that which is the supreme, the highest, there is no self-improvement; in that direction there is no improvement of the `me', there is no becoming, there is no practice, no thought of `I shall be'. This means really the cessation of all pressure on thought; and when there is no pressure on thought, is there thinking? The very pressure on thought is the process of thinking, thinking in terms of a particular society, or in terms of a reaction to that society; and if there is no pressure, is there thinking? It is only the mind that has not this movement of thought which is the pressure of society - it is only such a mind that can find reality; and in seeking that which is the supreme, such a mind creates the new culture. That is what is necessary: to bring about a totally different kind of culture, not to reform the present society. And such a culture cannot arise unless the earnest man pursue completely, with total energy, with love, that which is real. The real not to be found in any book, through any leader; it comes into being when thought is still, and that stillness cannot be bought by any discipline. Stillness comes when there is love. In considering some of these questions. I think it is important that we should directly experience what is being said, and you cannot do that if you are merely concerned with an answer to the question. If we are to go into the problem together, we cannot have opinions about it, my theory against your theory, because theories and speculations are a hindrance to the understanding of a problem. But if you and I can quietly, hesitantly penetrate deeply into the problem, then perhaps we shall be able to understand it. Actually there is no problem. it is the mind that creates the problem. In understanding the problem one is understanding oneself. the operations of one's own mind. After all, a problem exists only when any issue or disturbance has taken root in the soil of the mind. And is not the mind capable of looking at an issue, of being awake to any disturbance, without letting that disturbance take root in the mind? The mind is like a sensitive film, it perceives, it feels various forms of reaction; but is it not possible to perceive, to feel, to react with love, so that the mind itself does not become the soil in which the reaction takes root and becomes a problem? Question: You have said that total attention is good; what then is evil? Krishnamurti: I wonder if there is such a thing as evil? Please, give your attention, go with me, let us inquire together. We say there is good and evil. There is envy and love, and we say that envy is evil and love is good. Why do we divide life, calling this good and that bad, thereby creating the conflict of the opposites? Not that there is not envy, hate, brutality in the human mind and heart, an absence of compassion, love; but why do we divide life into the thing called good and the thing called evil? Is there not actually only one thing, which is a mind that is inattentive? Surely, when there is complete attention, that is, when the mind is totally aware, alert, watchful, there is no such thing as evil or good; there is only an awakened state. Goodness then is not a quality. not a virtue, it is a state of love. When there is love there is neither good nor bad. there is only love. When you really love somebody you are not thinking of good or bad, your whole being is filled with that love. It is only when there is the cessation of complete attention, of love, that there comes the conflict between what I am and what I should be. Then that which I am is evil, and that which I should be is the so-called good. Now, is it at all possible not to think in terms of fragmentation, not to break life up into the good and the evil, not to be caught in this conflict? The conflict of good and evil is the struggle to become something. The moment the mind desires to become something, there must be effort, the conflict between the opposites. This is not a theory. You watch your own mind and you will see that the moment the mind ceases to think in terms of becoming something, there is a cessation of action which is not stagnation; it is a state of total attention which is goodness, but that total attention is not possible as long as the mind is caught in the effort to become something. Please do listen, not only to what I am saying, but to the operations of your own mind, and that will reveal to you with what extraordinary persistence thought is striving to become something, everlastingly struggling to be other than it is, which we call discontent. It is this striving to become something that is `evil', because it is partial attention, it is not total attention. When there is total attention there is no thought of becoming, there is only a state of being. But the moment you ask, `How am I to arrive at that state of being, how am I to be totally aware?' You have already entered the path of `evil' because you want to achieve. Whereas, if one merely recognizes that as long as there is becoming, striving, making an effort to be something, one is on the path of `evil', if one is able to perceive the truth of that, just see the fact as it is, then one will find that that is the state of total attention; and that state is goodness, there is no strife in it. Question: Great cultures have always been based on a pattern, but you speak of a new culture which is free of pattern. Is a culture without pattern ever possible? Krishnamurti: Must not the mind be free of all patterns to find reality? And being free to find that which is real, will it not create its own pattern, which the present society may not recognize? Can the mind which is caught in a pattern, which thinks in a pattern, which is conditioned by society, find the immeasurable which has no pattern? This language which is being spoken, English, is a pattern developed through centuries. If there is the creativity which is free of patterns, then that creativity, that freedom can employ the technique of language; but through the technique, the pattern of language, reality can never be found. Through practice, through a particular kind of meditation, through knowledge, through any form of experience, all of which are within a pattern, the mind can never understand what is truth. To understand what is truth, the mind must free itself from patterns. Such a mind is a still mind, and then that which is creative can create its own activity. But you see, most of us are never free from patterns. There is never a moment when the mind is totally free from fear, from conformity, from this habit of becoming something, either in this world or in the psychological, spiritual world. When the process of becoming in any direction completely ceases, then that which is God, truth, comes into being and creates a new pattern, a culture of its own. Question: The problem of the mind and the social problem of poverty and inequality need to be tackled and understood simultaneously. Why do you emphasize only one? Krishnamurti: Am I emphasizing only one? And is there such a thing as the social problem of poverty and inequality, of deterioration and misery, apart from the problem of the mind? Is there not only one problem, which is the mind? It is the mind that has created the social problem; and having created the problem, it tries to solve it without fundamentally altering itself. So our problem is the mind, the mind that wants to feel superior and thereby creates social inequality, that pursues acquisition in various forms because it feels secure in property, in relationship, or in ideas, which is knowledge. It is this incessant demand to be secure that creates inequality, which is a problem that can never be solved until we understand the mind that creates the difference, the mind that has no love. Legislation is not going to solve this problem, nor can it be solved by the Communists or the Socialists. The problem of inequality can be solved only when there is love, and love is not just a word to be thrown about. The man that loves is not concerned with who is superior and who is inferior, to him there is neither equality nor inequality; there is only a state of being which is love. But we do not know that state, we have never felt it. So, how can the mind that is wholly concerned with its own activities and occupations, that has already created such misery in the world and is going right on creating further mischief, destruction - how can such a mind bring about within itself a total revolution? Surely, that is the problem. And we cannot bring about this revolution through any social reform; but when the mind itself sees the necessity of this total redemption, then the revolution is there. Sir, we are always talking of poverty, inequality and reformation, because our hearts are empty. When there is love we shall have no problems, but love cannot come into being through any practice; it can come into being only when you cease to be, that is, when you are no longer concerned about yourself, your position, your prestige, your ambitions and frustrations, when you stop thinking about yourself completely, not tomorrow but now. This occupation with oneself is the same, whether it be that of the man who is pursuing what he calls God, or that of the man who is working for a social revolution; and a mind so occupied can never know what love is. Question: Tell us of God. Krishnamurti: Instead of my telling you what God is, let us find out whether you can realize that extraordinary state, not tomorrow or in some distant future, but right now as we are quietly sitting here together. Surely, that is much more important. But to find out what God is, all belief must go. The mind which would discover what is true cannot believe in truth, cannot have theories or hypotheses about God. Please listen. You have hypotheses, you have beliefs, you have dogmas, you are full of speculations; having read this or that book about what truth or God is, your mind is astonishingly restless. A mind which is full of knowledge is restless, it is not quiet, it is only burdened; and mere heaviness does not indicate a still mind. When the mind is full of belief, either believing that there is God or that there is not God. It is burdened, and a burdened mind can never find out what is true. To find out what is true, the mind must be free, free of rituals, of beliefs, of dogmas, knowledge and experience. It is only then that the mind can realize that which is truth, because such a mind is quiet, it no longer has the movement of going out or the movement of coming in, which is the movement of desire. It has not suppressed desire, which is energy. On the contrary, for the mind to be still there must be an abundance of energy; but there cannot be ripeness or fullness of energy if there is any form of outward movement, and thereby a reaction inward. When all that has calmed down, the mind is still. I am not mesmerizing you to be still. You yourself must see the importance of relinquishing, putting away without effort, without resistance, all the accumulations of centuries, the superstitions, knowledge, beliefs; you must see the truth that any form of burden makes the mind restless, dissipates energy. For the mind to be quiet there must be an abundance of energy, and that energy must be still. And if you have really come to that state in which there is no effort, then you will find that energy, being still, has its own movement, which is not the outcome of society's compulsion or pressure. Because the mind has abundant energy which is still and silent, the mind itself becomes that which is sublime: there is no experiencer of the sublime, there is no entity who says, `I have experienced reality'. As long as there is an experiencer, reality cannot be, because the experiencer is the movement to gather experience or to liquidate experience: so there must be a total cessation of the experiencer. Just listen to this, don't make an effort, just see that the experiencer, which is the outward and inward movement of the mind, must come to an end. There must be a total cessation of all such movement, and that requires astonishing energy, not the suppression of energy. When the mind is completely still, that is, when energy is neither dissipated, nor distorted through discipline, then that energy is love; then that which is real is not separate from that energy itself. February 27, 1955. BOMBAY 5TH PUBLIC TALK 2ND MARCH 1955 I think it is important to consider the question of what is learning, and also to understand what is creativity; because, in the deepest and most profound sense, creativity and learning are closely related. To most of us that word `creativity' means very little, either painting a picture, or writing a poem, or having children, or enjoying the sunset on the river; but surely, creativity is not the mere expression of a feeling or a technique. Creativity is something entirely different. It is a state of mind in which all thought has completely ceased, and which may be called reality, God, or what you will; and I think this state of creativity comes into being when we understand what it is that we call learning. So please have the patience to go with me into the problem. Do we learn anything? And what is it that we learn? Deeply, fundamentally, is there anything to know? Is it not important to ponder over this whole question of teaching and learning? Beyond all expression. beyond all verbal statement and explanation, beyond all the restless activity of the mind, is there anything to know. to learn? And what do we mean by learning? Learning is the accumulation of experience, it is skill in action. One learns a language, a craft, a skill, one learns how to drive a car, how to draw. how to read, how to build a dynamo, or sail a ship. Learning is also the accumulation of knowledge, knowledge of various philosophies, of science, and so on. And is there anything more to learn? Can one learn about oneself? Or is the understanding, the knowledge of oneself only from moment to moment and not from accumulation to accumulation? Must not the mind understand this whole process of accumulating knowledge, with its imitative capacity, and go beyond it? What do we actually know? What we call knowledge is the education imparted at different levels of our existence by society, by religion, and with its help we try to survive. In the process of survival our lives are nightmares of ambition, of corruption, of competition, of the struggle to be something; there is a constant battle a conflict going on within ourselves and around us. Modern existence which is based on self-survival greed, jealousy, violence, war, is an everlasting struggle which we all know. That is our life, and we have learnt how to survive within that culture of ambition, of ruthlessness of belief, of quarrels, of fragmentary thought; we have learnt how to manipulate our way through this chaos, this mess. And what is it that we have learnt? We have learnt various techniques, various forms of expression. We are always gathering, and expressing what we have gathered. One learns the technique of painting, or of building a bridge, and from that learning there is expression. We are constantly learning, accumulating knowledge, information. This is an obvious fact. And if we go beyond all that, what is it that we know? Do we know anything? We know the distance between the stars, how to build airplanes, how to split the atom, and so on; but apart from that, do we know anything at all? Do we know anything except technique, skills, facts? And must not the mind go beyond all knowledge, all learning? Now, if without being mesmerized by words we can listen to the description of what lies behind this extraordinary struggle to acquire knowledge, learning, and let that struggle come to an end, then I think a totally different state will come into being and we shall find out what is true creativity. We have acquired many forms of technique, we are familiar with the complex machinery of living, of survival, and we may have studied various philosophies and be capable of scholarly disputations with erudite people; but as long as one merely practices a technique, or lives along the lines of any particular philosophy, one is obviously living according to a pattern, and therefore there must be imitation, copy. And is it possible to experience that state in which there is no copy, no imitation? Surely, to find out if such a thing is possible, we must begin by inquiring what it is that we know. Have you ever considered what it is that you know? You may be scholars, very clever people who have read, who have studied, and who have suffered in the battle of life; but what is it that you know? Do you actually know anything? You know how to survive, how to do a particular job, you know a certain technique and have acquired the skill which comes with experience. But beyond that, do you know anything at all? Can the mind ask that question and remain with it, without trying to justify itself or answer the question? Because the moment you have explanations, the moment you answer that question, you have already entered the field of the known. So, is it not important for the mind to inquire and remain in that state of inquiry, which is not to seek an answer but simply to see if you know anything at all beyond the knowledge which has already been accumulated? I hope I am making myself clear. All that we learn and all that we know is accumulation. It is the accumulative memory which acts, therefore it is imitation. And is it possible to find a state of being in which all knowledge has ceased and there is only that state of being? It seems to me very important to find this out, because we approach existence, not with the unknown, but always with the known. We translate every experience in terms of the known, in terms of the past, and therefore living becomes a series of reactions based on the known; and as the known is mere imitation, copy, our lives become very dull, empty. Now, is it possible for the mind to live in a state of not knowing? After all, what is it that we know? Everything that we know is based on experience, on conformity, fear; we know in order to survive, and with that same mentality we approach the unknown, which is reality, God, or what you will. And can the mind be totally free of the known? Sirs, this is an important question to ask oneself, is it not? Because we are always content with the known, and when you scratch the surface of the known there is nothing, there is emptiness, a void. And surely it is very important for the mind to live completely in that void, in that silence, and from that void, that silence to think, to express, to invite thought and thereby action. That is why we must understand what it means to learn. Beyond a certain point we cannot learn any more, because there is nothing to learn, there is no teacher to teach, and we must come to that point -which means, really, being completely free from all sense of becoming something, from all sense of the more. It is only when the mind is in that state of void in which there is no knowledge, in which there is no longer the experiencer who is learning, who is gathering, who is accumulating - it is only then that there is this creativity which can express itself through various skills and crafts without causing further misery. What I am saying is not difficult. The difficulty is to ask the question and keep on asking it. If you are waiting for an answer to the question, you are not concerned with the question at all. So, we must come to this point where there is nothing to learn, for then the mind is free from society, free from all impositions, from this struggle for social recognition, and so on; and it is only in that state of freedom from society that we can create a new culture, bring about a new civilization. We may learn how to reform a particular society, how to adjust ourselves to the prison of a particular culture, and that is what most of us are occupied with; therefore our response to challenge is always limited, inadequate. Whereas, it the mind is completely free from society, from every form of social conditioning, which means that it is a truly religious mind, then it is in a state of silence in which there is no acquisition of knowledge, no experiencer; and it is the action of such a mind that produces a new culture, a new civilization. Question: Can I be free from the past? Krishnamurti: Now, if we can actually listen to what is being said, listen to find the truth of the matter without verbal disputation or the complications of a cunning mind, then that very truth frees the mind from the past. So, let us inquire. Can the mind be free from the past? To say that it can or cannot be free would have no validity, because you don't know. All that you can do is to inquire. Some people will say that the mind can never be free from the past, others that it can be free ultimately, in the future; but a man who really wants to find out for himself will have an entirely different attitude, an attitude neither of acceptance nor of denial. What is the mind? The mind is essentially the product of time, of many thousands of yesterdays; it is the result of tradition, and in its development through the desire to survive it has created various forms of culture, it has gathered knowledge, information. Being the product of time, the mind has the possibility of growth, and it goes from one target to another, from one purpose to another, changing within the pattern of the known; it develops through desire and through changing the objects of desire. A child desires toys; later on its desires become those of a young man or woman; and later still, as the mind matures, it wants to know what is beyond mere everyday existence. This process of inquiry, of wanting more, is what we consider to be growth, progress. Being the product of time, the mind develops in moving from the known to the known. Now, the questioner wants to know whether the mind can be free from the past. And what is the past? The past is tradition, memory, the various impositions, sanctions, compulsions of society; the past is all the accumulated knowledge of how to run a motor, how to build a railway, how to split the atom, and so on. To be creative, to bring a new thing into being, even the technician must be free from the past, otherwise he merely remains a technician. And can the mind, which is the result of time, cease to think in terms of time? Surely, that is what it means to be free from the past. Can the mind cease to think in terms of time, time being the pursuit of the more, the whole process of moving from one object or conclusion to another? Sirs, your mind, which is obviously the result of many thousands of yesterdays, can only function in the field of the known; and when such a mind says, `Can I be free from the known?', what is its response? Its response can only be, `I do not know'. That is, when the mind asks itself whether it can be free from the results of all its yesterdays, from its memories, its pains, its joys, its experiences, its virtues, its money, its position, surely the only answer is that it does not know. Now, can the mind remain in that state, actually and not theoretically, in which it says, `I do not know'? Can you actually experience the fact that you do not know? Do you understand what I am saying, sirs? Here is a question: can the mind be free from the memories, from all the accumulations of the past? If you don't theorize, if you don't either positively or negatively assert, then you can be in only one state, which is that you do not know. Now, if the mind can remain there, not merely verbally, but if it can actually experience that state of not knowing, then is not the mind free from the past? It is very interesting to inquire into this question; because, if the mind is merely in the field of the known, which it is, then unless it has the experience of not knowing and profoundly feels that state, all its inquiry will be the reaction of the known and therefore a further development of the known. To put it differently, the mind must be quiet, completely still; and the moment the mind is still, it is in the state of not knowing. Any movement of the mind is a reaction of the known, and it is only when the mind is silent, without movement, that it is capable of being innocent, fresh, totally aware. You may ask what all this has to do with our daily living, with our daily conflicts, miseries, quarrels and ambitions. It has nothing whatsoever to do with it. You cannot use this to overcome that. To experience this there must be the total cessation of all ambition, greed, jealousy, of all the competitive pur- suits of self-preservation by which we have built up this rotten society which is disintegrating and for which there can be no reformation. The truly religious man is he who is free of society and the recognition of society, who in his inquiry into whether he can be free from the past has come to that state of mind in which there is no movement. It is only such a mind that is capable of creating a new culture. To reform the old culture is merely to decorate the prison. Question: What have you to say about the possibility of integrating one's personality? Krishnamurti: I do not think what I have to say about it has much value; but if you and I together can find out what it is to be integrated, if we can actually experience the state of integration and not merely define or describe it, then it will have some significance. Now, to experience, to know what is the state of integration, we must first see that we are disintegrating, which is a fact. We are torn apart by desires which are in conflict with each other. There is the conflict of good and bad, of distraction and attention. I am this and I want to be that, which is the everlasting struggle between what I am and what I should be, between the fact and the ideal. This torn-apart-entity which we call the `me', with its different marks, its conflicting attractions and pursuits, is what we actually are, and merely to put together what is torn apart is not integration. Contradictory desires may be brought together through conformity, tied together by fear, by incentive, but that is not integration. So, first we have to be aware of the fact that we are made up of different entities with different masks, different poses; and to be aware is not merely to say that we are aware, but actually to see this extraordinarily contradictory thing which we are without trying to transform or control it. Because the moment we realize that we are in contradiction, we want to bring about a state of non-contradiction, which is another form of contradiction; it is merely to have another mask, another desire. And is it possible just to be aware that we are made up of different beings? The higher self, the lower self, the Atman, the Paramatman, and the ambitions, the fears, the jealousies, the envies, are all within the field of the mind, of thought. One desire is in opposition to another desire, and any effort to bring about integration within the field of contradiction is itself a contradiction. The moment the mind desires to be something there is already a division, a process of effort, which is obviously a process of disintegration. In this question is also involved the whole content of the unconscious, is it not? If we are at all alert we know how extraordinarily contradictory we are on the conscious level. When we do not fulfil our desires, there is frustration, sorrow. And is the unconscious also contradictory? In the unconscious, in the many layers of the mind below the conscious level, are there hidden pursuits, incentives, urges that are opposing each other, or is there only one constant drive? The unconscious is also the result of centuries of accumulation, it too has been shaped by racial and cultural influences, by beliefs, by fears; and in that vast field of half-imagined, half-felt consciousness, is there not also contradiction? Is not the whole consciousness a field of contradictory desires? And when there is conflict, whether at the conscious level or at the deeper level, there is no attention, is there? Attention, total attention, is the good, and there cannot be total attention as long as there are contradictory desires. If contradictory desires are brought together by an effort of will, the will itself is the result of another desire, and therefore it creates still another contradiction. Now, can the mind see this whole process, not merely verbally, descriptively, imaginatively, but can it actually be aware of this total mass of opposing desires, of which the mind itself is the battlefield? Can it be aware and not wish to bring about a state of integration? Can it just be choicelessly aware and remain there, neither hoping nor despairing, but merely observing the fact? Then, being aware of confusion, and not making effort to alter it, or to bring about an integrated state, no longer wishing to produce any result, is not the mind still? And is not that stillness, that tranquillity, the quieting of all energy, energy being the contradictory desires which have been opposing each other? And is not that cessation of all movement a state of integration from which action takes place which is not contradictory, and which therefore does not dissipate energy? But you see, ladies and gentlemen, unless you directly experience all this, unless you feel out the truth of what is being said, it will have very little significance. Question: What is right meditation? Krishnamurti: I think the right question would be, not what is right meditation, but what is meditation? And it is surely very important to find out what meditation is, because it will bring about a definite action in our daily life. Now, to find out what meditation is, must you not first see what you think about meditation? When you use that word `meditation', you already have various conclusions about it, have you not? You meditate according to a pattern, according to what some book or some teacher has said. So you already know what meditation is; and if you already know what meditation is, then you are not really inquiring. Do you understand what I am talking about, sirs? If you are inquiring into what is meditation, then the formulas, the repetitions, the japams, the various things that you do must be put aside, and the mind must be entirely quiet. Either what you are doing now is meditation, or it is not. It is meditation, than there is no problem. But to find out if what you are doing is meditation, you must be free to look at it, to question it, you cannot merely accept it. To inquire into what is meditation, surely that freedom is the first necessity. So, can you be free from all your practices, from all your disciplines, from all your various conclusions and compulsions? And if you are freeing yourself from those things because you are inquiring into what is meditation, then that very inquiry is meditation, is it not? Why do you discipline your mind, and who is it that disciplines the mind? Who is it that meditates, and what is it that he meditates upon? What is the drive, the urge, the incentive to meditate? You must inquire into all that, must you not? If you have the incentive to find God and your meditation is the result of that incentive, which is a form of compulsion, then you will never find God. The mind disciplines, controls, shapes itself because it has already conceived what God, is, what truth is, and it thinks that if it treads a certain path, does certain things, it will achieve an end, and that in the achievement there will be perfect happiness. But as long as the mind is seeking to achieve a result it will never find that which is truth, reality, God, that which is immeasurable, timeless, because the mind itself is the result of time. So meditation has quite a different significance. When the mind is no longer being driven by any incentive, when it is no longer conditioned by any discipline, when it is no longer seeking any result, then is not the mind in a state of meditation? Is it not also important to inquire who is the meditator, and what it is that he is meditating upon? Is there such a thing as the meditator separate from meditation? When you discipline yourself, who is the entity that disciplines? You may say it is the higher self. Is it? Or is it merely the invention of thought, one thought controlling another thought? You may call that controlling thought the higher self, but it is still within the field of thinking, therefore within the field of time. So, to inquire into what is meditation, must not the mind be free of conclusions? If any conclusion, any experience already exists, it is within the field of time. For a fleeting second you may have an experience of what you think is reality, happiness, bliss, but to cling to that is to hold the mind within the field of time and therefore make it incapable of any further experiencing of what is truth. To inquire into what is meditation, then, the mind must first find out if it is free from all the technical approaches which it has learnt in order to meditate. The mind has learnt certain practices because it wants to achieve a result, and that result it has already preconceived. But that which it has preconceived is not the real, and to meditate upon what it has preconceived, to control, discipline itself in order to achieve what it has imagined, which is a mere speculation or the reaction of its own past, is utterly useless and has no meaning; it is a process of self-hypnosis. But if the mind begins to inquire into its various practices by being aware of its own incentives, its own pursuits, then that very inquiry is meditation. Then you will find that the mind becomes extraordinarily full of energy because there is no dissipation of energy through effort, through control, through shaping itself towards a particular end. To find out what is true there must be abundant energy, and that energy must not be in any movement, it must be still. That stillness comes into being when the mind is free from all effort, when it is no longer caught in the pattern of discipline, fear and achievement. Then there is no accumulation of memory, no residue, no experiencer, there is only a state of experiencing. When the mind is still, when there is no movement of effort, no demand for more, no gathering of memory, only then is there the truth which is from moment to moment. March 2, 1955. BOMBAY 6TH PUBLIC TALK 6TH MARCH 1955 Is it not important to consider the question of what it is that we are seeking, and why we seek at all? Why is there this extraordinary anxiety to seek and to find, and why do we waste so much energy in that struggle? And what is it that we are individually or collectively seeking? If we can go into this matter diligently we may find that the whole process of seeking truth, perfection, God, and so on, is a hindrance; the search itself may be a distraction. It may be that the mind can find that which is beyond the measure of time only when it is no longer seeking - which does not mean that it must be contented, satisfied. So I think it is important to go into this question. In its anxiety to find, in its restless activity to discover what is truth, the mind is never quiet; and is not this process of search a hindrance to that very discovery? Is it not possible for the mind to be quiet and yet full of vigour, to be intensely aware without this constant strife, this anxiety to find? And what is it that we are all so anxiously seeking? Each one may interpret differently the intention, the urge that lies behind this search; but what is it fundamentally that we all want to find, what is it that we hope to gain at the end of our search? In the movement of this search we join a society, a religious body, hoping thereby to find some kind of release, some kind of quietness, and we are soon caught, enmeshed in the dogmas, the beliefs, the rituals, the taboos and sanctions of that particular religion. So the search has led nowhere. but only to a series of inward and outward conflicts, adjustments in conformity to a pattern, and in this process of struggle and adjustment we grow old. Or if we already belong to a particular group or pattern, we break away from it and join something else, leaving one cage, one bondage to enter another. We continue in that way year after year, struggling, conforming, taking vows, adjusting, hoping thereby to find. The earnest read the Gita, the Bible, this or that. hoping to find; and the light-hearted, the easygoing seek on a different level, to them what is important is going to the club, listening to the radio, having a good job, a little money. We are all being relentlessly driven to seek; and what is it that we want to find? I think it is important for each one of us to find out what it is that he is seeking. I may be able to describe it in different ways, but the verbal expression is not the actuality of your own perception of what you are seeking. So, if I may suggest, listen to what is being said, not with exclusive concentration, but listen in that silence between two thoughts. When the mind is trying to listen to a particular thought, many other thoughts come in, and then you push those thoughts away and try to listen. But instead of doing that, perhaps you can listen in the gap between two thoughts. when you are just attentive and therefore able to listen without effort. To put it differently, what is important is not merely to listen to what is being said, but to be aware, to be conscious of what you are thinking while you are listening. and to pursue that thought to the end. If your mind is occupied with resisting one thought by another thought, you are not listening at all. I think there is an art of listening, which is to listen completely without any motive, because a motive in listening is a distraction. If you can listen with complete attention, then there is no resistance either to your own thought or to what is being said - which does not mean that you will be mesmerized by words. But it is only the very silent, quiet mind that finds out what is true, not a mind which is furiously active, thinking, resisting. Putting out its own opinions and conclusions. So, is it possible to listen with that ease of attention which is without motive? If you can listen in that way, then I think you will find out for yourself the true answer to the question, what is it you are seeking? There may be an immediate response to that question, with many words, phrases, conclusions, but the true answer lies much deeper than the immediate response. If you are able to listen silently, that is, without the intense activity of a mind which is ceaselessly projecting its own thoughts, then perhaps you will find out what it is that you are seeking. Obviously, we all want to be happy, because our lives are very disturbed, anxious, fearful. There is nothing permanent, and for most of us, life is a series of conflicts in the action of survival. The very desire to survive has its own destructive by-products. And what is it that we want to find, each one of us? The very humble clerk who goes to an office every day, the lady who has plenty of money and who goes to the club or to the races, the woman who is married and has many children, the man who has a certain capacity to learn - what is it they are all seeking? And why do we seek? Is it because we are so disturbed. so discontented with what we are? Being ugly we want to be beautiful; being ambitious we want to fulfil our ambition; having capacity we want to make that capacity more vigorous; being good we want to be better; being mediocre we want to shine; being intellectual we want to give significance to life; being religious we seek to find that which is beyond the mind, inquiring, begging, praying, sacrificing, cultivating, disciplining, and so on. This strain, this process of conformity, is our life, is it not? Our life is an everlasting battlefield from morning till night, and not knowing what it is all about, we look to somebody else to tell us the goal, the end, the purpose of life. We turn to beliefs, to books, to leaders, and when they offer us something, though we may be momentarily satisfied, sooner or later we want something else. So, what is it that we want? Being disturbed we want to find peace, being in conflict we want to end conflict. If we are very alert, watchful, we see the futility of all thinking, of all the ideological Utopias, the different systems of philosophy; and yet we go on seeking, seeking to find something that is real, something that has no confusion, something that is not man-made or mind-made, something beyond our immediate anxieties, fears and wars. We struggle to gain something, and when we have gained it we proceed further, we want still more. Our life is a series of demands for comfort, for security, for position, for fulfilment, for happiness, for recognition, and we also have rare moments of wanting to find out what is truth, what is God. So God or truth becomes synonymous with our satisfaction. We want to be gratified, therefore truth becomes the end of all search, of all struggle, and God becomes the ultimate resting place. We move from one pattern to another, from one cage to another, from one philosophy or society to another, hoping to find happiness, not only happiness in relationship with people, but also the happiness of a resting place where the mind will never be disturbed, where the mind will cease to be tortured by its own discontent. We may put it in different words, we may use different philosophical jargons, but that is what we all want: a place where the mind can rest, where the mind is not tortured by its own activities, where there is no sorrow. So our life is an endless search, is it not? And if we don't seek we think that we shall deteriorate, stagnate, that we shall become like animals, that we shall die. What is the intention of your seeking? Surely, on that depends what you will find. If your intention is to find peace, you will find it; but it will not be peace, because the mind will be tortured in the very process of finding and maintaining it. To have peace you must discipline, control, shape your mind according to a particular pattern - at least, that is what you have been told. Every religion, every society, every book, teacher, guru, tells you to be good, to conform, to adjust, to comply, to discipline your mind not to wander, and so there is always restriction, suppression, fear. You struggle because you have to achieve that which you want, the goal. Now, does not this search seem utterly futile? To be caught in the cage of a particular discipline, or to be driven from one cage, from one system, from one discipline to another, obviously has no meaning. So we must inquire, not into what it is you are seeking, but why you seek at all. Seeking may be a totally wrong process. The very search may be a waste of energy, and you need all that energy to find. So it may be that your approach is entirely wrong, and I think it is, no matter what your Gita, your guru, or anybody else says. You are disciplined, you meditate, you gather virtue as you gather grain, and yet you are not happy, you have not found, there is not this inward joy, this creative revolution. It may be that God can never be found by a mind which is seeking, because its motive is to escape from the torture of daily existence. Whereas, the mind that ceases to struggle because it has understood this whole problem of seeking, that puts aside the conflict of search because it sees what extraordinary energy is required to be open to that which is timeless - it may be that only such a mind can find, can discover or receive that which is truth, God. It is possible, then, to have a very alert mind which at the same time is peaceful, not seeking? Surely, a mind which is seeking is not a quiet mind, because its motive is to gain something. As long as there is a motive in search, it is not the search for reality, it is only a search for what you want. All our human search, all our human endeavour to find out, is based on a motive, and as long as we seek with a motive, whether good or bad, conscious or unconscious, the mind can never be free and therefore still. To seek happiness is never to find happiness because one is seeking with a motive and therefore there can be no cessation of fear. Now, can one perceive and understand immediately that all search is vain when there is a motive? Can you listen to what is being said and grasp it, see the significance of it at once, not at some future date? Truth is not in the future, and if in the very act of listening you discover the futility of your search, then that very act of listening is the experiencing of truth and therefore your search will stop. Then your mind is no longer caught in motives, intentions. So, it is not a question of how to free the mind from motive. The mind can never free itself from motive, because the mind in itself is cause-and effect, it is a result of time. When the mind says, `How am I to free myself from motive?', again the search with a motive begins, again you are entering the field of strain, of discipline, of control, of this endless struggle which leads nowhere. But if you can listen and see the truth that as long as there is a motive in search, such search is utterly vain, meaningless, and only leads to more misery, more sorrow - if you see that and are really comprehending it now, as you are listening, then you will find that your mind has stopped seeking because it no longer has a motive. You are not being mesmerized by words, or by a person. You have perceived for yourself the futility of this everlasting search with a motive, therefore your mind is still, quiet, there is no movement of search at all; and that total stillness of mind may be the state in which the timeless comes into being. You see, the mind is so restless, it is afraid to be still, it is afraid not to know all the latest things, it is afraid not to be at all, to be simply nothing; but it is only out of nothingness that wisdom comes, not out of much learning. Wisdom comes only to the mind that is silent. A mind that is full of its own conflicts and its own workable knowledge can only produce its own misery. Question: How can I cease to be mediocre? Krishnamurti: You must first know what mediocrity is, must you not? What is mediocrity? The mediocre may have cars, luxurious houses, or they may live in a slum. They may be more powerful in their minds, and generally they are. So what is this mediocrity that you want to escape, to get away from? If I realize I am mediocre, stupid, dull, and I want to become less mediocre, more intelligent, more learned, is not that very demand for the more, and the effort to become the more, a mediocre state of mind? Please listen to this, don't agree or disagree. The mind that has a motive, that is pursuing the ideal of what it thinks it should be, that is disciplining, controlling, shaping itself, struggling to be other than it is - is not such a mind mediocre? Do you understand? Seeing that it is mediocre, stupid, dull, that it is greedy, envious, ambitious, ruthless, or whatever it be, the mind says, `I must become non-mediocre', and is not that effort to become non-mediocre the very essence of mediocrity? In trying to become something, the mind escapes from the actual fact into the ideal, and that is what you have all done. You are pursuing, worshipping the ideal which you have projected. Therefore there is never an overflowing, there is never a creative abundance with austerity, because your energy is constantly being dissipated in the struggle to fulfil, to become something. That is our way of life, is it not? We are ambitious and we want to fulfil, and in the very pursuit of that which we desire we are becoming mediocre. Virtue is essential, but the process of acquiring virtue is mediocre. The man who ceaselessly practices virtue, who deliberately disciplines his mind to be virtuous, merely becomes respectable, and that is what society wants. Society wants you to be respectable, to conform, not to be creatively abundant, revolutionary in the right sense of that word. Real revolution is not the communist or some other stupid revolution of economic and social upheaval; it is a revolution in thought, and that can come about only when you abandon society completely. In that freedom your mind is no longer conforming, adjusting, defending, suppressing, therefore it is truly religious; and a truly religious man is the only revolutionary. Then truth acts, and such action is not in the pattern of any particular culture. So, mediocrity cannot be changed into something more beautiful. If you are aware of being stupid and try to become clever, in the very process of becoming clever there is mediocrity, so all such effort is a waste of energy. Whereas, if you can live with and understand that which you see to be stupid, go into it fully without judging or condemning it, then you will find that there comes a state which is totally different; but that requires complete attention, not the distraction of trying to become something. Question: How can I understand the significance of my dreams? Krishnamurti: The question is not how you can understand the significance of your dreams, but why do your dream at all? Surely, that is the problem, not how to translate the symbols, the visions, the images which the unconscious projects when the conscious mind is asleep. Because your conscious mind is wholly occupied during the day, you dream when you are asleep; and when you wake up you say, `How am I to translate those dreams?' There are innumerable ways of translating dreams. You can translate them according to Freudian or some other philosophy and get lost in the study of symbols, chasing from one authority to another, which is so utterly futile. But if you ask yourself why you dream at all, then I think it will have significance. What is a dream, and why do you dream? Have you ever thought about it? Without turning to any philosophy, to any book, to any expert on dreams, let us find out together why you dream at all. After all, your consciousness is not just the superficial mind that goes to the office every day, that has a few virtues, clothes, this and that; your consciousness is the unconscious as well. When you are sleeping the superficial mind is somewhat at rest, so the unconscious acts, and you have dreams; and when you wake up you say, `What am I to do now?' But if you ask yourself why you dream at all, and whether dreaming is necessary, you will presently see that there is something more important than interpreting dreams. During the day, your conscious mind is occupied with trivialities, with the struggle to survive, to be something, to fulfil your ambitions, to be loved, and so on; there is never a moment of quietness, of observation, of awareness of things, not as you would like them to be in imagination, but as they actually are. Whereas if, during the waking hours, you can be aware of everything about you and your response to it, if you can observe your own thoughts and let your mind slow down so that easily, without friction, it is acquainted with every emotion, every reaction and the significance of it, then you will see that you no longer dream, because your whole mind is occupied in understanding all the time, not just when you are asleep, therefore symbols have no meaning. If during the daytime you are passively aware of every thought, of every feeling, of every reaction, watching it without interpreting, condemning, or judging it, so that it is understood, then the mind becomes very quiet, and when you sleep there are no dreams. In that sleep the mind can go much deeper, and can experience something which the waking consciousness can never touch. So, to experience that which is beyond the mind, the mind must be still during the day and must have understood all the conflicts of the day, without suppression, sublimation, or escape; and you are bound to suppress, sublimate, escape, as long as you are condemning, judging, evaluating, translating. But if you can merely observe so that your observation flows with your thought, then you will see that life is not a tortuous process, and that out of it comes a great energy which enables you to break away from society with all its stupidities. This does not mean that you become a hermit or a sannyasi. Such a man has not broken away from society, because he is still caught in his conditioned mind. But if you can break away from society in the true sense, then in the very breaking away there is understanding of that which is eternal. Question: You seem to question the validity of time as a means to the attainment of perfection. What then is your way? Krishnamurti: You see, the very idea of the attainment of perfection and the way to it implies time, and in wanting to know what my way to it is, the questioner is still thinking in terms of time. Sir, there may be no way at all. Let us go into it. What do we mean by time? Let us think about it, not philosophically, but very simply, quietly, easily. There is obviously chronological time. I must have time to catch train, time to go from here to where I live, time to receive a letter, time to talk, time to tell you a story, time to write a poem or carve an image out of marble. But is there any other form of time? You say there is, because there is memory. If I had a certain experience yesterday which gave delight, it has left a memory, and I want more of that delight. So the `more' is time in the psychological sense. I must have time to fulfil, to achieve, to gather, to become: I must have time to bridge the gap between myself who am not perfect, and that which is perfect over there, the `over there' being in my mind. So there is space in my mind, a distance between what is and what should be, the perfect ideal. There is a fixed point as the `me', and a fixed point as the `non-me' which I call perfection, the higher self, God, or what you will; and to move from this fixed point as the `me' to that fixed point as the `non-me', I need time. So the mind has not only the chronological time which is necessary to catch a train or keep an appointment, but also psychological time, time to fulfil, to achieve. If I am ambitious I must have time to attain, to become famous, and so on, and in the same way we think of perfection. Having divided itself as the imperfect, the mind conceives a state of perfection and establishes the distance between itself and that state; and then it says, `How am I to get from here to there?' Do you understand, sirs? I am miserable, and I think I must have time to become perfect, to find happiness, if not in this life, then in some future life; but the mind is still within the field of time, however much that field may be extended or narrowed down. All your sacred books, all your religions say that you need time to become perfect, and that you must take a vow of celibacy, of poverty, you must resist temptation, discipline, control yourself in order to get there. So the mind has invented time as a means to perfection, to God, to truth, and it thinks in those terms because in the meantime it can be greedy, brutal, saying that it will polish itself up and eventually become perfect. I say that way is totally wrong, it is no way at all. It is merely an escape. A mind that is caught in perfection, in struggle, can only conceive of what perfection is, and that which it conceives out of its confusion, its misery, is not perfection, it is only a wish. So, in its effort to be that which it thinks it should be, the mind is not approaching perfection, it is merely escaping from what is, from the fact that it is violent, greedy. Perfection may not be a fixed point, it may be something totally different. As long as the mind has a fixed point from which it moves, acts, it must think in terms of time, and whatever it projects, however noble, however idealistically perfect, is still within the field of time. All its speculations on what Krishna, Buddha, Shankara, or anyone else has said, all its imaginations, its desires for perfection, are still within the field of time, therefore utterly false, valueless. A mind with a fixed point can only think in terms of other fixed points, and it creates the distance between itself and the fixed point which it calls perfection. Though you may wish otherwise, there may be no fixed points at all. In actuality, there is not any fixed `you' or fixed `me', is there? The `I', the self is made up of many qualities, experiences, conditionings, desires, fears, loves, hates, various masks. There is no fixed point; but the mind abhors this fact, therefore it moves from one fixed point to another, carrying the burden of the known to the known. So time is an illusion when we think in terms of perfection. Desire has time, sensation has time, but love has no time. Love is a state of being. To love completely, simply, without either seeking or rejecting, is not to think in terms of perfection or of becoming perfect. But we do not know such love, therefore we say, `I must have something else, I must have time to reach perfection'. We discipline ourselves, we gather virtues, and if we don't sufficiently gather in this life, there is always the next life; so this movement of backwards and forwards is set going. When you think in terms of time you are really pursuing the `more', are you not? You want more love, more goodness, more pleasure, more ways of avoiding pain, more of the experience which delights, which brings a fleeting happiness; and the moment the mind demands more it must have time, it must of necessity create time. This demand for the `more' is an escape from the actual. When the mind says, `I must be more clever', that very assertion implies time. But if the mind can look at what is without condemnation, without comparison, if it can just observe the fact, then in that awareness there is no fixed point. As in the universe there is no fixed point, so in us there is no fixed point. But the mind likes to have a fixed point, so it creates a fixed point in name, in property, in money, in virtue, in relationships, in ideals, beliefs, dogmas; it becomes the embodiment of its own desires. The mind's idea of perfection is not the opposite of what is. Perfection is that state of mind in which all comparison has ceased. There is no thinking in terms of the `more', therefore no struggle. If you can just know the truth of that, if you can merely listen and find it out for yourself then you will see that you are free from time altogether. Then creation is from moment to moment without accumulation of the moment, because creation is truth, and truth has no continuity. You think of truth as continuous in time, but truth is not continuous, it is not a permanent thing to be known in time. It is nothing of that kind, it is something totally different, something that cannot be understood by a mind that is caught within the field of time. You must die to everything of yesterday, to all the accumulations of knowledge, experience, and only then that which is immeasurable, timeless, comes into being. March 6, 1955 BOMBAY 7TH PUBLIC TALK 9ND MARCH 1955 It seems to me that most of us are bewildered and confused, not only with regard to what we should do, but primarily in the matter of what is right thinking, and we are groping to find a way out of this confusion. We want a leader, someone to help us out of our difficulties. Being confused we are very gullible, and we are easily made to accept things that are irrational; or we turn to past teachers, to Christ or Buddha, to the Vedas, to the Bible, hoping to find an answer to our problems. But I think such a way of thinking makes confusion more confounded. Confusion comes, really, when we are incapable of looking at the fact without having an opinion about the fact. We never look at the fact directly, but always come to it with a conclusion, and the result is confusion. If we can see this one very simple thing, then I think we shall be able to understand the much more complex and comprehensive problem of what is religion, what is truth, what is God. We are confused, and we do not know what we are confused about, or how confusion arises. Surely, confusion exists only when we are not capable of looking at the fact stripped of all evaluations, that is when we have not the capacity to recognize the fact without opinion, without the traditional values which we give to it. It is the traditional value, the opinion, the judgment with regard to the fact, that brings about confusion. If you look into it you will find that this is so. We are never able to look at a fact as it is, but always come to it with judgments, with values, and hence the confusion. Now, can the mind look at the fact without the evaluating factor? The fact is always new, whereas the evaluating factor is always old. When the mind looks at the fact with the values, the opinions, the judgments it has acquired, which are all the outcome of the past, there is bound to be confusion. So our problem is to look at the fact without evaluation; and that requires a great sense of humility, does it not? But none of us are humble; we all have values, we do not come to the fact without knowing. Not knowing is a state of humility, and I think this is very important to understand. Knowledge has nothing to do with wisdom. Wisdom comes into being without knowledge, that is, only when the mind has no evaluating factor, when the mind is not the entity that evaluates, that judges, that compares. Humility is necessary to understand a fact, and to have this sense of humility, there must be total freedom from all knowledge; for knowledge is the process of evaluation, and the fact being the new, when you approach it with a mind that is burdened with knowledge, out of that comes confusion. Now, if the mind can be stripped instantaneously of all the past, so that it is able to meet the present without the burden of knowledge, then there is no confusion. It is like a doctor observing the patient; he does not come to the patient with foregone conclusions, with his mind already made up as to what illness the patient has. But most of us approach the fact with conclusions. We have certain beliefs, certain dogmas, certain formulas, and our approach to the problem, how to deal with it, is already clearly laid out in our minds; so our minds are never fresh, never able to approach the problem anew. We say that we need time to free the mind from all accumulative, self-protective knowledge, to unburden ourselves of all sorrow, misery, strife. But I do not think time is necessary at all. On the contrary, time is merely the outcome of our not meeting the fact without knowledge. For centuries the mind has been acquiring knowledge with which to meet the fact, and has thereby introduced confusion. So, can the mind be free from all the values it has accumulated and meet the challenge anew, the challenge being the fact? It is because we do not meet the fact fully, without conclusions, that there is confusion, there is sorrow. To be free of sorrow we say we must have time, and therefore we have developed philosophies, disciplines, various ways and means to overcome it. But sorrow is the result of this very process of meeting the fact with a conclusion. So, to be free from sorrow, must not the mind approach the fact without a belief, without a conclusion? That is, must there not be immediate freedom from memory as the evaluating factor? When I meet you, for example, if I already know you, I do so with certain values, opinions, judgments about you which memory has retained and which are based on my previous experiences with you. Now, can I look at you, have the memory of you, and yet be free of all judgment? Can I meet you, know who you are, and yet have no values, no opinions concerning you? Surely, it is our values, our judgments that bring confusion, sorrow; and being confused, being in sorrow, we say we must have time to overcome this sorrow. But is that so? Will time resolve our sorrow? Do you understand, sirs, what sorrow is? Sorrow is our incapacity to meet the fact completely, without judgment, without belief. It is because we do not meet the fact afresh and move with it that there is sorrow. Being in sorrow, as most people are, we want time to be free from sorrow, and so we have various philosophies, schools of thought, disciplines, meditations, to overcome it. I do not think sorrow can be overcome through, any discipline, through time, for sorrow is the result and not the cause, and as long as you are merely dealing with the symptom and not with the cause, there must be the prolongation of confusion, conflict and sorrow. So, can sorrow be overcome immediately? I think this is an important question to put to oneself, because the man who is happy is not antisocial. It is the man who is frustrated, confused, miserable, and also the man who is seeking God, truth - it is such people who are antisocial, because truth cannot be found as long as the mind is seeking. So, for the man who is seeking truth, as well as for the man who is confused, who is in sorrow, the problem is: can the cause of sorrow be dissipated immediately? Is there an entirely different way of looking at it, thinking about it, so that it can be understood, not in some distant future, but now? Surely, there is the ending of sorrow only when I free my mind from all evaluation, from all comparison, from all social sanctions. strip it of all its accumulations, so that it is in a state of humility, the state in which the mind is aware and knows nothing, and is therefore able to look at the fact without judgment. After all, what do we mean by religion? Religion is not belief, it is not the capacity to quote sacred books, it is not the worship of an image or a symbol, it has nothing to do with the performance of a particular ritual. Religion is that state of mind in which there is no longer any search, in which there is no longer any movement which is a cause. And surely, being so confused. our problem is not to be resolved by going back to the past, to what Shankara, Buddha. Christ, or your own guru has said, but only by being able to meet life, with all its challenge, anew, afresh; and you cannot meet the challenge, the fact in that way as long as the mind is burdened with any evaluation. It is meeting the fact with evaluation that creates confusion and sorrow. So, can the mind have memory and yet be still, thus meeting the fact without evaluation? Can the mind be free of all its many yesterdays? Now, there is no way to be free, is there? There is no method, because the very method imprisons the mind and therefore the mind is no longer free. The pursuit of the method, of the `how', has a cause, and so long as there is a cause, an incentive, a motive, the mind is incapable of meeting the fact anew, and hence there is confusion and sorrow. So there is no way, no method, no system to free the mind. Please listen to this without agreeing or disagreeing. I am not saying anything which you have to think about in a complicated manner or make a philosophy of. I am just describing to you a fact, and if you don't meet directly the fact which I am describing, you are going to be more confused. I say there is no way of freeing the mind, no method, because any method, any discipline, any practice binds the mind, conditions it further. When you suffer, all that you are concerned with is to find a way out, and the `way out' is the method, the system, the discipline, the practice with which you meet the fact; therefore you are incapable of understanding the fact, so your confusion and sorrow increase. What is important, then, is to see the truth in a flash, to be so sensitive that the fact instantly reveals the truth. But that requires a great deal of humility; and the man who has experienced, who has studied, the man who worships and practices, has no humility at all, therefore his leadership, his advice, his learning, bring more sorrow, more confusion to the world. So our question is, can your mind now, at this minute while you are listening to me, be entirely striped of all the evaluating factors, of all the many yesterdays, so that it can see what is truth? The perception of truth is not a state of experience, because to experience there must be the experiencer, the evaluator. Please listen, it is very simple. As long as there is an experiencer, who is the evaluator, there is no perception of what is truth. Truth has no continuity; it is only the evaluator, the observer, the experiencer, that has continuity, not truth. That which continues is the process of evaluation. Now, as one is sitting here quietly of an evening, or when one is walking or taking the bus, is it possible to see all this vast confusion and sorrow in one's own heart and mind, and, realizing the whole process of sorrow, not give it soil in which to take root, the soil of knowledge, evaluation, but look at the facts without judgment? Which means, really, looking at the facts in all humility. If you say, `I must be humble, I must remove the previous understanding from my mind and be free of all it knowledge, evaluation', then the `how' becomes important and you will never solve the problem. But if you see the truth now, as you are listening, that the mind is free from sorrow only when it looks at the fact without any judgment, without any evaluation, that is, when it meets the challenge completely, totally - if you see the truth of that immediately, then you will find there is the cessation of sorrow. It does not matter whether one is learned or ignorant, if one can just listen to what is being said and see the truth of it, then that very act of listening is the liberation from sorrow. But the difficulty is for most of us that we want an experience of joy or ecstasy to continue; having seen clearly, we want to have an abiding sense of clarity, and the desire for the `more' is the beginning of vanity. It is only in complete humility - which is a state in which you know nothing, a state in which there is no experiencer, no evaluator - that the mind can instantaneously receive the truth. There is no path to truth, no system by which you can attain it. You may read the Gita, the Bible, all the sacred books in the world, or even Marx, but none of them will lead you to truth. The mind that has achieved, that knows, that has practised and experienced, that is full of its own knowledge - such a mind can never find truth or God, but only the very simple mind, the mind that is really humble and therefore able to meet the fact without any evaluation. What is important is to look at life, at every movement of life, without the burden of many yesterdays, thereby ceasing to create confusion and sorrow. Question: How can I be free from fear? Krishnamurti: What is fear? Fear exists only in relationship to something, it does not exist by itself. Fear comes into being in relationship to an idea, to a person, with regard to the loss of property, and so on. One may be afraid of death, which is the unknown. There is fear of public opinion, of what people will say, fear of losing a job, fear of being scolded, nagged. There are various forms of fear, deep and superficial, but all fear is in relationship to something; so when we say, `Can I be free from fear?', it really means, `Can I be free from all relationship?' Do you understand? If it is relationship that is causing fear, then to ask if one can be free from fear is like asking if one can live in isolation. Obviously, no human being can live in isolation. There is no such thing as living in isolation, one can live only in relationship. So, to be free from fear one must understand relationship, the relationship of the mind to its own ideas, to certain values, the relationship between husband and wife, between man and his property, between man and society. It I can understand my relationship with you, then there is no fear; because fear does not exist by itself, it is self-created in relationship. Our problem, then, is not how to overcome fear, but to find out first of all what our relationship is now, and what is right relationship. We do not have to establish right relationship, because in the very understanding of relationship, right relationship comes into being. I think it is important to see that nothing can live in isolation. Even though you may become a sannyasi, put on a loin cloth and seclude yourself, isolate yourself in a belief, no human being can live in isolation. But the mind is pursuing isolation in the self-enclosure of `my experience', `my belief', `my wife', `my husband', `my property', which is a process of exclusion. The mind is seeking isolation in all its relationships, and hence there is fear. So our problem is to understand relationship. Now, what is relationship? When you say, `I am related', what does that mean? Apart from the purely physical relationship through contact, through blood, through heredity, our relationship is based on ideas, is it not? We are examining what is, not what should be. Our relationship at present is based on ideas, on ideation as to what we think is relationship. That is, our relationship with everything is a state of dependency. I believe in a certain idea because that belief gives me comfort, security, a sense of wellbeing, it acts as a means of disciplining, controlling, holding my thought in line. So my relationship to that idea is based on dependence, and if you remove my belief in it I am lost, I do not know how to think, how to evaluate. Without the belief in God, or in the idea that there is no God, I feel insecure, so I depend on that belief. And is not our relationship with each other a state of psychological dependency? I am not talking about physiological interdependence, which is entirely different. I depend on my son because I want him to be something which I am not. He is the fulfilment of all my hopes, my desires; he is my immortality, my continuation. So my relationship with my son, with my wife, with my children, with my neighbours, is a state of psychological dependency, and I am fearful of being in a state in which there is no dependence. I do not know what that means, therefore I depend on books, on relationship, on society, I depend on property to give me security, position, prestige. And if I do not depend on any of these things, then I depend on the experiences which I have had, on my own thoughts, on the greatness of my own pursuits. Psychologically, then, our relationships are based on dependence, and that is why there is fear. The problem is not how not to depend, but just to see the fact that we do depend. Where there is attachment there is no love. Because you do not know how to love, you depend, and hence there is fear. What is important is to see that fact, and not ask how to love, or how to be free from fear. You may momentarily forget your fear through various amusements, through listening to the radio, through reading the Gita or going to a temple, but they are all escapes. There is not much difference between the man who takes to drink and the man who takes to religious books, between those who go to the supposed house of God and those who go to the cinema, because they are all escaping. Whereas, if as you are listening you can really see the fact that where there is dependency in relationship there must be fear, there must be sorrow, that where there is attachment there can be no love - if as you are listening now you can just see that simple fact and comprehend it instantaneously, then you will find that an extraordinary thing takes place. Without refuting, accepting, or giving opinions about it, without quoting this or that, just listen to the fact that where there is attachment there is no love, and where there is dependency there is fear. I am talking of psychological dependency, not of your dependence on the milkman to bring you milk, or your dependence on the railway, or on a bridge. It is this inward psychological dependency on ideas, on people, on property, that breeds fear. So, you cannot be free from fear as long as you do not understand relationship, and relationship can be understood only when the mind watches all its relationships, which is the beginning of self-knowledge. Now, can you listen to all this easily, without effort? Effort exists only when you are trying to get something, when you are trying to be something. But if, without trying to be free from fear, you are able to listen to the fact that attachment destroys love, then that very fact will immediately free the mind from fear. There can be no freedom from fear as long as there is no understanding of relationship, which means, really, as long as there is no self- knowledge, The self is revealed only in relationship. In observing the way I talk to my neighbour, the way I regard property, the way I cling to belief, or to experience, or to knowledge, that is, in discovering my own dependency, I begin to awaken to the whole process of self-knowledge. So, how to overcome fear is not important. You can take a drink and forget it. You can go to the temple and lose yourself in prostration, in muttering words, or in devotion, but fear waits around the corner when you come out. There is the cessation of fear only when you understand your relationship to all things, and that understanding does not come into being if there is no self-knowledge. Self-knowledge is not something far away, it begins here, now, in observing how you treat your servants, your wife, your children. Relationship is the mirror in which you see yourself as you are. If you are capable of looking at yourself as you are without any evaluation, then there is the cessation of fear, and out of that comes an extraordinary sense of love. Love is something that cannot be cultivated; love is not a thing to be bought by the mind. If you say, `I am going to practise being compassionate', then compassion is a thing of the mind, and therefore not love. Love comes into being darkly, unknowingly, fully, when we understand this whole process of relationship. Then the mind is quiet, it does not fill the heart with the things of the mind, and therefore that which is love can come into being. Question: You postulate an understanding that is absolute. To you there is no place for gradualists. How can we with our limited minds grasp your teachings? Krishnamurti: Sir, we have invented this process of gradualism for our convenience. When you go to a doctor to have an operation, do you say that the thing which necessitates operation will be eradicated gradually? When you have a bad tooth, do you say that it will gradually be extracted? You go to the dentist for an immediate extraction, or you go to the surgeon to be put on a table and cut open. But you see, we do not think in those terms. We want both pleasure and pain, and that is why gradualism exists. We have invented a philosophy of life, a so-called way of love, that gives us both pleasure and pain, and hence the conflict between good and evil. We say, `I am violent, and I must have time to overcome that violence', therefore we have the ideal of nonviolence, and through a process of gradualism we hope eventually to become non-violent, which is just a lot of nonsense. Either we are or we are not violent, there is no becoming non-violent. Now, being violent, what is important is to have the capacity to deal with violence immediately and not give it time to take root in the mind and become a problem. Do you understand, sirs? To be free of violence one has to meet violence within oneself and understand it immediately, and that immediacy of understanding is not possible if one thinks in terms of time, which is the soil in which the problem takes root. But not having the capacity to meet our violence, our greed, we invent a way of dealing with the problem which has no reality, which is not a fact, it is just an ideation. So, is it possible for you and me to meet anger, violence, or whatever it be, without making it into a problem, that is, without giving soil in the mind for the problem to take root? The problem comes into being only when we are not capable of dealing with the fact immediately, and therefore we give soil for that issue to take root, which then becomes a problem. When this problem arises, we say, "How am I to deal with it?', and so we have invented gradualism, the idea that gradually we shall get rid of it. I hope I am making myself clear. If I am capable of dealing instantly with anger, with jealousy, with violence, if I am able to meet it immediately, factually, then there is no problem. The problem arises only when, not knowing how to meet that feeling, I give it shelter in the mind, soil in which to take root, and insist that to be free from it gradualism is necessary. Our question is, then, can you and I deal with the fact immediately without making it into a problem? Please listen. Can I just look at the fact of anger, envy, ambition, or what you will, without any evaluation, without condemning or accepting it? That is, can I look at anger without giving it a name? There is a feeling, that feeling is immediately termed as anger, and the very word `anger' is a condemnation. So, can I look at that feeling without naming it, without condemning, judging, or comparing it, without identifying myself with it? That means, really, looking at the fact and retaining the memory of the fact without all the evaluating factors. Let us approach the question differently. The questioner says, `You talk about an absolute understanding, but we cannot understand immediately, we need time'. Let us find out if that is so. You think somewhere there is God, truth, that extraordinary thing which man seeks everlastingly, and that between that thing and the `me' there is a gap, a thick wall of vanity, greed, ambition, fear, and so on. So you say, `I must have time to tear down the wall, to wear it out, or to make it transparent to that beauty, that goodness'. But I say time will never do it. Whether you have one life or a hundred lives, as long as you are thinking in terms of time you will never do it. All your sacred books, all your gurus have said that you must have time; but who is the entity that is taking time to polish the wall day after day, or to pull it down, who is it that says, `There is distance between me and that reality'? That very entity is the creator of time, because he wants to achieve something and therefore thinks in terms of `getting there'. So he has created this idea, this illusion that there is space between the `me' and that reality, and having created this space, this gap which is time, he asks, `How am I to bridge it?' Please see this. Any movement on the part of the mind towards that which it calls reality, creates time, and therefore it can never bridge the gulf. As long as there is the entity who says, `I am going to discipline, control myself, I am going to practise virtue every day in order to break down the wall between myself and reality', that very entity is creating the wall, the distance between itself and reality. Virtue is essential, for virtue brings freedom, order, but virtue alone does not lead to reality. Virtue is recognition by society, and to live in society you must have virtue. Perhaps many of you are virtuous, good, kindly, compassionate, unassuming, and yet you have not that extraordinarily creative thing without which virtue has very little meaning, it is merely a social oil which enables society to run smoothly. So, as long as the mind thinks in terms of becoming; as long as it says, `I am here and I must get there'; as long as it wants to be something the governor, the big executive; as long as it says, `I am going to fulfil, reach God', it must have time. Now, if you can see and understand this fact, then at that moment you are not, you are nothing, and for you there is no time. Then there is no gap, there is no `me' and `that reality', but only a state of being, and out of that comes an extraordinary joy. Then there is no striving, no dissipation of energy. You must have an abundance of energy, but not through control. If you say, `I am going to take the vow of celibacy, I am going to discipline myself in order to have more energy', that is merely another bargain. Those are all the ways and tricks of the mind in order to achieve something, to get somewhere. The person who has taken the vow of celibacy knows no love, because he is concerned with himself and his own fruition. So, what is important is to see all this, how the mind deceives itself, how the mind has created the distance between itself and that reality which it thinks exists. As long as there is any movement of the mind towards a goal there must be gradualism, there must be time. Merely to listen to this fact, to meet and understand it in oneself, frees the mind from time. But you can listen to it, understand it only when there is no sense of becoming, when you don't want to be anything. only when your mind is stripped of all experiences - and it is as you are listening now. You are not being mesmerized by me, you are quiet because you are listening to something that is true. And if you can listen quietly even for a minute, for a second, then you will find that that very quietness, the very silence of that second has within it the whole abundance, the richness and the beauty and the goodness of truth. In that moment there is complete attention without any motive, and that complete attention does not wish to have something more, it does not wish to be better. That complete attention is the good, and therefore there is no better. I say that the mind can be free immediately, and that there is no gradual process by which to free the mind through time. It is only the mind which is very quiet that can be free, and that quietness cannot be purchased by the accumulation of knowledge or virtue, it cannot be known through any discipline or sacrifice. It is only when you are listening to everything in life, when you are watching in the mirror of relationship the reflection of your own thoughts, wants, greeds, envies, purposes, just watching it without acceptance or condemnation - it is only then that the mind becomes really still. For the mind to be still there must be abundant energy and therefore the cessation of conflict. It is only when conflict ceases at every level that the mind is still. When there is no dissipation of energy through conflict, through effort, through discipline, the mind becomes totally quiet, and that very quietness is the abundance of energy. Only then does that reality which cannot be put into words, which has no symbol, that something which cannot be described or speculated upon, come into being. March 9, 1955. BOMBAY 8TH PUBLIC TALK 13TH MARCH 1955 Krishnamurti: Surely, the most important thing that all of us have to do is to understand our life and not escape from life; but our whole pattern of thinking, it seems to me, is a process of escaping from our daily conflicts, from our daily miseries and responsibilities, from the utter chaos we find ourselves in. We have to understand this confusion, and not look for someone to help us to escape from it. The facts of our life are important, not the ideological escapes which all religions and most philosophies offer. We seem to find it extraordinarily difficult to live with deep fullness of thought, with intense, abundant love, and most of us are not concerned with that; we are concerned with trying to become something. If you observe, all our religions, all our leaders, political and so-called spiritual, all our organizations, the worldly as well as the religious, offer ways of becoming something, either here or in the so-called world of the spirit. In striving, in struggling to become something, we have lost the beauty of living, and if we can understand the problem of effort, then perhaps we shall be able to understand our lives and live richly, worshipping the one day. with abundance, with deep passion, and not looking to tomorrow. It is because we do not understand the eternal present that we try to find something beyond the present, tomorrow. And what is it that prevents us from understanding our life, which is so fraught with sorrow, with conflict, with ambition, with this extraordinary division between man and man? Why is it that we do not understand this whole process of living and are always looking somewhere else for truth, for life, for something which is immeasurable, beyond the limits of thought? What is it that blocks our understanding? Is it that we want to find an answer away from the facts of everyday living, something which will be much more satisfactory, more permanent, something that will give us a sense of well being? What is it that each one of us wants out of life? Can life offer anything but conflict and misery as long as we use life as a means to something else? Yet that is what we are all doing, is it not? We are using life, our daily living, which is an extraordinary thing in itself, to get somewhere, to reach heaven, to find truth, God; and the various philosophies, the religious teachers and systems offer the means of escape from our living and from the understanding of that living. Now, it seems to me that the understanding of life is not a difficult problem at all, but what makes it difficult is the interpretation, the opinions, the values, the judgments that we have. It is this conditioning of the mind that creates wars, that makes for darkness and myths, and if we can actually wipe it away, not in the process of time, but from day to day, then I think we shall find that life is not a stepping stone to something greater. There is nothing greater. If I know how to live, then living itself is the truth. But it is not a question of how life should be lived. There is a vast difference between actual living and the what I should be. It is this curse of the ideal, that what should be, that has rotted our thinking. And is it possible to wipe away all our conditioning? I think that this is the real question, not how to improve our conditioning, or which is the better way of thinking. All thinking is a form of conditioning, whether it is Communistic, Socialistic, Capitalistic, Catholic, Hindu, or what you will. And if it is possible to wipe away this whole evaluating process, to retain memory without the condemnatory and justificatory values, then we shall see that life has a tremendous significance. So, is it possible to wipe away the many values, the ambitions that one has set up for oneself, and live a life without effort? Effort, which is based on the evaluations of memory is a process of degeneration, it destroys the clarity of thinking and living. If you can listen without evaluation to what is being said here, then your problem is immediately solved, because you perceive the truth, not somebody's interpretation of the truth. But you cannot possibly act to free the mind from evaluation, from condemnation, justification, comparison, from all the accumulated knowledge which makes you think this way or that, for any pressure on thought is another deviation. All of us think under pressure, do we not? Our thinking is a process of pressure because we want to become something, positively or negatively, and we thereby bring about frustration. Pressure on thought leads to frustration, to misery, to sorrow; and is it possible to live without pressure? Surely, that is our problem, is it not? Our problem is to live richly, happily, sweetly, without all this sorrow. Our lives are full of sorrow, and what most of us are concerned with is how to escape from sorrow; and if we cannot escape from it, we use sorrow as the means to truth, saying that we must suffer in order to understand that which is joy, that which is necessary. But sorrow does not lead to ecstasy, sorrow does not lead to life, to beauty, to light. We are in sorrow because we are always trying to become something. If you watch your own mind you will see that every movement of thought is towards something or away from something, and so your life is a series of battles, conflicts and miseries. Don't agree with me, but watch your own life and see how miserable it is, how petty, mediocre, uncreative. The mind is limited, everlastingly occupied, and with that mind we try to find something which is beyond the whole process of thought. Realizing that, we say we must silence the mind, so we begin to discipline, to control, to shape the mind, thereby dissipating the energy which is so necessary if the mind is to be still. So we have made our life into a tortuous affair; and can we sweep away the things that are making us into thoughtless, uncreative, imitative machines, all the repetitive phrases which have very little meaning? Can we wipe all that away, be simple and begin anew? It is possible to do that only when we do not think in terms of time. We are used to thinking in terms of time, in terms of becoming something, are we not? Being confused, in sorrow, without love, being full of the bitterness of frustration in the everlasting struggle to become something, we say, `I must have time to be free from all that', and we never put to ourselves the question, `Can I be free, not in time, but immediately?' It is necessary to ask fundamental questions always and never seek answers to them, because to fundamental questions there are no answers. The question itself, with its depth and clarity, is its own answer. But we never put fundamental questions, and one of the fundamental question is whether it is possible not to think in terms of time. The mind is the result of time, of centuries of memory, it is the outcome of innumerable experiences and evaluations; and can that mind think, can that mind find, without becoming something? If you are good now, there is no problem; but if you are thinking in terms of becoming good, then the problem arises. If there is no love, the question is not how to love eventually, but what is love? If you are asking what love is, that is a fundamental question, and the answer is not to be sought, for it depends on the seriousness and depth of the questioner. So, what is important in our daily living is not what to seek and what to find, but to stop all search, because in search there is pressure on thought. All search as we know it has a motive, and as long as there is a motive, an incentive in your search, what you are seeking is obviously the fulfilment of that motive; therefore it is no longer search. Now, can the mind stop seeking? Surely, any movement of the mind in any direction has an incentive, and the incentive breeds its own result; therefore that result is not truth. Truth comes into being when the mind has no movement at all, when it is completely still. But you see, the difficulty is that all of us have been educated wrongly, we have lost the initiative in thinking, we want to be helped, and probably most of you are here for that reason. Sirs, there is no help, and please realize this. There is no help - which does not mean that you must remain in despair. On the contrary. But the moment you begin seeking help you have lost the initiative, and initiative is the beginning of that extraordinary thing called creativity, which is truth. Remaining within the walls of your particular prison, the walls of your own thinking, your own conditioning, your own ambition and confusion, you want to be helped by an outside agency, and so you lose the initiative to jump over the wall. Him who you think will give you a hand to jump over the wall you call your guru, or the one who loves you, or the truth; but if you are helped you have lost that creativity. Life is a process of discovery, and in living from day to day you have to find out for yourself its beauty, its extraordinary depth; and it is because you do not look, because you want to be helped, that you lose the confidence, the initiative which is so essential to the process of discovery. The sense of individual discovery of what is truth is destroyed, taken away from you, so you read the Gita, you turn to Shankara, Buddha, or Christ, you follow the book or the leader, and having established authorities, you are lost. That is a simple fact. You are lost because you have leaders, philosophies, disciplines. If they did not exist you would not be lost, because then you would have to find out from day to day, rom moment to moment, you would have to discover for yourself. There is a difference between self-confidence and the state of mind which is constantly inquiring without a motive. Self-confidence breeds aggression, arrogance, its action is a self-enclosing process; but for the mind that is in a state of constant inquiry there is no accumulation of discovery, and only such a mind can find that which is truth. The mind that is led can never discover what is truth, but only the mind that is free from society, from all conditioning, and is therefore in a state of revolution. That is why only the truly religious man is a revolutionary, not the reformer. So it seems to me that our problem is not to seek that which you call truth or God, but to free the to mind from all conditioning as a Hindu, a Moslem, a Christian, or whatever it be, and also from the conditioning which comes about when you are ambitious, envious, all of which is within the pattern of society. Society is based on reformation, and reformation is continuation of the past; and it is only when the mind is aware of all this and understands it that there is a possibility of the coming into being of that for which we all hunger and without which life has not much meaning, which is the real. But for the experiencing of the real, there must be no experiencer. The experiencer is the result of the past, he is made up of many accumulations, of many memories, and as long as there is the experiencer, the thinker, there cannot be that which is truth. When the mind is free from the thinker, from the experiencer, from the `me' as accumulated memories with their evaluations - it is only then that the mind can be still. Stillness of the mind is not to be thought of in terms of time. That stillness has no continuity, it is not a state to be achieved and continued or perpetuated. When the mind wants to continue an experience, there is the experiencer, and that experiencer is greed for the more. The more creates time, and as long as the mind is thinking in terms of the more, the real is not there. Perhaps you have listened to all this quietly and easily. The mere hearing of the words is not the understanding of the words. But if you listen to the words without any effort to capture or experience something, if you just listen and do not grasp at it, then you will find that that very listening brings about in you an unconscious revolution. That is the only revolution, because a conscious revolution of desire, of effort, is merely reformation. If you can listen quietly, easily, without interpretation, to what is being said, and to everything about you then you will find that you are listening not only to that which is very near but also to things that are very far away, to that which has no measure, no space, that which is not caught in words, in time. But to listen to that which is beyond measure to that which is truth, the mind must be very quiet, and it cannot be quiet as long as it is seeking, because seeking is a form of agitation. When the mind is really still because it is caught up in the song of its own listening, only then the immeasurable, that which is eternal, comes into being. Question: All our problems seem to be rooted in the dust of the past. Is it possible to be aware of the full content of the unconscious and die to it, so that the mind is fresh, new? Krishnamurti: Sirs, it is very interesting to find out, when you ask a question, why you are asking it. What is the urge that makes one ask a question? Surely, it is not the answer to the question that is very important, but to find out why one seeks an answer, what is the motive, the incentive, and who the entity is that is seeking an answer, because on the motive of the question depends the answer, and if you don't know the motive, any answer is valueless. And the moment you begin to discover the motive, with all its extraordinary deviations, you are already in the field of self-knowledge, you are already understanding yourself in the mirror of your own thoughts, in the mirror of relationship; therefore you have no questions at all. Every problem is an issue in which truth can be discovered; but if you merely put a question and wait for an answer, wait to be helped, then you have lost the initiative in the action of discovery. Please listen, because this is really important. I feel that happiness lies in our own hands, and the key to that happiness is self-knowledge - not the self-knowledge of Freud, or Jung, or Shankara, or somebody else, but the self-knowledge of your own discovery in your relationship from day to day. In the mirror of relationship you can discover everything without reading a book, and then you will not want leaders, then leaders become destroyers. Through observation, through awareness without effort of the movement of your own thought from day to day, as you get into a bus, while you are riding in a car, when you are talking to your servant, to your wife, to your children, to your neighbour - through observing all that as in a mirror you begin to discover how you talk, how you think, how you react, and you will find that in understanding yourself you have something which cannot be found in books, in philosophies, in the teachings of any guru. Then you are your own guru and your own disciple. But such observation needs attention, and there can be attention only when where is no incentive to alter that which you discover. As long as there is any intention to alter that which you discover, you are not totally aware. Total attention is the good, and there cannot be total attention it there is any sense of condemnation, comparison, or justification of that which you discover. Nobody can give you the key to the ending of sorrow, but it is in your own hands if you see yourself in the mirror of relationship without judging what you see. Then no religions, no books, no temples are necessary, for you will find that out of deep self-knowledge there comes a timeless thing, and therefore the creations of the mind have little importance. Then you will know love. Now, the questioner says that all our problems seem to be rooted in the past, and he asks if it is possible to be fully aware of the whole content of the unconscious and die to it, so that the mind can be fresh, new. To uncover the various depths of the unconscious there is the process of analysis and there is introspection. You can watch and evaluate everything you think and say, or you can analyze the mind, both conscious and unconscious, going step by step into all its deviations and interpreting every dream. Now, it seems to me that all this is very tedious and not a true way to go about it; because, after all, in the process of introspection and in the process of analysis there is always the analyzer, the one who introspects, evaluates, so there is always a division in the mind. There is always this duality of the one who watches and that which is watched, the part of the mind which introspects analyzes, and the other part which is examined, analyzed; hence there is always interpretation, evaluation, conflict. And since this separation of the analyzer from the thing analyzed only leads to everlasting conflict, then what is the other way? Perhaps it is not a way, because there is no way, no path to truth, there is no system of meditation, no discipline which will bring that extraordinarily creative thing into our daily life. But there is a possibility, if you really pay attention to something, of being in a state when there is no thinker at all, but only thinking. This is not just a theory of mind, it is a fact. Thought is fleeting, transient, in constant flux, and when there is total attention, thought can never create the permanent as the thinker, as the experiencer, as the one who has accumulated experience or property; there is only thinking and not the thinker. Please listen and you will see how to put away this whole process of analysis and transcend the unconscious, thereby bringing into the so mind the freshness of youth, of innocency; because it is only the of innocent, the fresh mind that can receive the new, not the mind that is. tortured by analysis, that is shaped, controlled by discipline. So, there is only thinking, and thinking is transient; therefore all the things that are gathered by thinking the values of achievement, of ambition, of desire, are also transient. As long as there is accumulation as experience, as knowledge, as tradition, as values, there must be the unconscious with all its intimations of fear, of hidden motives; and the moment you are aware of that fact clearly, simply, the moment you really see that thinking is transient, in flux, all accumulation ceases. After all, the unconscious is the accumulation of yesterday and the many thousands of yesterdays; it is not only the accumulation of centuries of tradition, but also the accumulation that is going on in the movement of the present, in the mind's contact with the present. All that is the unconscious. The mind clings to its accumulation because it thinks in that there is clarity, in that there is hope, the cessation o but that very accumulation is the cause of fear. In its accumulation the mind finds a sense of permanency; but the fact is that thought is transient, and whatever it accumulates is also transient. The mind may think that there is a permanent Atman, a permanent entity, permanent reality, but that very thinking of the permanent, is impermanent. Thought, being transient, can only create the impermanent, though it may deceive itself by believing that it has created the permanent If you see the truth of that simply, immediately you will free the whole content of the unconscious, and the mind will never accumulate again; and the moment the mind ceases to accumulate, ceases to continue as the accumulator, it is fresh young innocent, totally new. You see, the difficulty is that we do not really want to be simple; we are lazy, therefore we invent the process of time. But if you are not lazy, if your mind is alert, if you see very simply that all thinking is transient, that thought has no abiding place, that there is no fixed point around which you can think, that the fixed point is created by thinking and is therefore as transient as the thinking which created it - if you really see that simply and directly, then you will find that all evaluation ceases. Then there is memory uncontaminated by values, and therefore the mind is fresh though it may remember. Question: Truth or reality appears to be just around the corner when one is listening to you, but afterwards it is as far away and beyond reach as ever, and one feels utterly frustrated. What is one to do? Krishnamurti: Why is it that when you are listening, as the questioner says, you seem to understand? Why is it that your mind is now very clear and simple? Is it that my voice is mesmerizing you? Or is it that both of us are earnest for an hour, earnest without any motive, not seeking, not wanting to achieve anything, but simply listening without any sense of being distant or near? Both of us are in a state of attention, are we not? Obviously, the speaker is not trying to convert you to anything, to any system, to any philosophy, he does not want you to join any organization, take up any discipline, and he is not offering you a thing. He is merely describing the fact, and the fact is much more significant than your opinion, than your interpretation or judgment of the fact. The speaker says, `Abstain from judgment, put away comparison, evaluation, and merely listen to the fact'. He is presenting the fact without wanting you to do anything about the fact. Just be aware that you are ambitious and that as long as there is ambition there must be fear, frustration, the agony of unfulfilment. That is a fact. As long as you are ambitious in any direction, in this world or in the so-called spiritual world, as long as you are gathering virtue as a means to heaven, fear is inevitable. Virtue as a means to heaven only leads to respectability, which is an ugly thing, a thing to be put aside. So, what is important is to be aware, just to see the fact that ambition in any form breeds envy, antagonism, and that in its fulfilment there is fear. And you are seeing that fact now, as you are listening. But what happens? You see the truth of the fact and for the moment that fact is real and you cease to be ambitious, there is no fear; but when you go away from here you are caught again in the wheels of respectable society, so you have created a division. While listening to the fact you are free, but after going away from here there is contention, and then you say, `How am I to get back to the fact? I saw it very clearly yesterday, but now I don't see it.' That very wanting to see the fact is creating the disturbance, the gap. But if you are deeply aware that you are craving to see that fact again, which is another form of ambition, then you will find that you don't have to attend a single meeting. Then you are your own teacher and your own disciple; then life is open and you will meet it every day fully, richly, happily. But that is not possible if there is any form of accumulation. Just to see the fact without evaluation brings freedom. You cannot translate the fact, it is a fact whether you like it or not, and when you are confronted with the fact there is no problem. Question: Love, death and God are three unknowables, but life is without meaning unless the significance of the three is understood. How can the mind comprehend what it cannot know? Krishnamurti: The mind can comprehend only that which it knows, it cannot comprehend what it does not know. That is very simple. The mind can understand only that which it has gathered, that which it knows; because the mind itself is the result of the known, is it not? Your mind is now the result of the known, of many yesterdays, of many experiences of all the traditional memories, values, judgments, opinions, fears. Being the result of the known, how can such a mind know the unknown? It may invent, it may speculate, but its speculation is merely a reaction of the known; like any theory, like any Utopia, like any philosophy, it is the reaction, the response of what is known. So, the mind can never know the unknowable, but that is what each one of you is trying to do. The mind is seeking the unknown through the known, and that is why your disciplines, your meditations are such frustrations; they have no meaning because you are moving from the known to the known. You never ask the fundamental question, which is: can the mind be free from the known and not pursue the unknown? Please listen. Can the mind, which is the result of the known, free itself from its own movement? Can the mind wipe away all its yesterdays, its yesterdays being the known? The known in contact with the present creates the future, which is also the result of the known. So, can there be freedom from the known? That is our problem, not whether the mind can ever comprehend the unknown. Can the mind comprehend love? It can comprehend sensation, desire, how to curb a sen- sation, how to manipulate, torture, suppress, sublimate desire; but can the mind know love? Can the mind know that which is unknowable? Can the mind which measures time, distance, space, discover that which is immeasurable? You want to know the unknowable, so your mind is always pursuing it, you read, you meditate, you smother yourself with ideas, with books, with leaders, and you never ask the question: can the mind ever be free from the known? Do you understand? The known is made up of the things that you have learnt, the things that you have been taught, that you are a Brahmin or a non-Brahmin, a Hindu, a Christian, or a Moslem; it is made up of your desire to be the prime minister, to be a rich man, and so on. And can the mind, being the result of the known, do anything else but move everlastingly in the field of the known? Can this movement in the field of the known come to an end without any incentive? Because if there is an incentive, that is also the known. Surely, as long as there is this movement of the known in the field of the known, it is impossible for the mind to know the unknown. So, can that movement of the known come to an end? That is the problem. If you really put that simple question without trying to find an answer, without wanting to get somewhere, and if you are earnest because it is a fundamental question to you, then you will find that the movement of the known comes to an end. That is all. With the cessation of the mind as the known, with its freedom from the movement of the known, there is the coming into being of the unknowable, the immeasurable, and in that there is an ecstasy, a bliss. March 13, 1955. Amsterdam 1955 - 1st Public Talk 2nd Public Talk 3rd Public Talk 4th Public Talk 5th Public Talk London 1955 - 1st Public Talk 2nd Public Talk 3rd Public Talk 4th Public Talk 5th Public Talk 6th Public Talk - Ojai 1955 - 1st Public Talk 2nd Public Talk 3rd Public Talk 4th Public Talk 5th Public Talk 6th Public Talk 7th Public Talk 8th Public Talk Sydney 1955 - 1st Public Talk 2nd Public Talk 3rd Public Talk 4th Public Talk 5th Public Talk 6th Public Talk Banaras 1955 - 1st Public Talk 2nd Public Talk 3rd Public Talk Madras 1956 - 1st Public Talk 2nd Public Talk 3rd Public Talk 4th Public Talk 5th Public Talk Madanapalle 1956 - 1st Public Talk 2nd Public Talk 3rd Public Talk Bombay 1956 - 1st Public Talk 2nd Public Talk 3rd Public Talk 4th Public Talk 5th Public Talk 6th Public Talk 7th Public Talk 8th Public Talk AMSTERDAM 1ST PUBLIC TALK 17TH MAY 1955 One is apt rather to think that what is going to be said will be oriental, and something which you have to struggle after to find. You need not struggle; but I think it is important, if we wish to understand each other, that we should first of all clear our minds of obvious conclusions. I feel that what I am going to say is neither oriental nor occidental. It is not something which, because I happen to have a brown skin, is being brought from India for western people to believe in. On the contrary, I think there is no east or west when we are concerned with human problems. As we are concerned with human problems, surely we must look at them from no particular point of view, but comprehensively. If we look at our human problems from a western point of view, or with the attitude of an Indian, with certain traditions, ideas and beliefs, it obviously prevents the comprehension of the total process of our living. So it seems to me that it is very important not to assume anything, not to draw upon any conclusion. or base our life on any suppositions or postulates. That is one of our greatest difficulties, -to free the mind from any assumption, from any belief, from all the accretions of our own accumulated knowledge and all that we have learned. Surely, if we would understand anything, we must have a free mind, unburdened of any previous conclusions, unburdened of all belief. When the mind is so free, unhampered by the various conditionings which have been imposed on it, is it not possible that such a mind is then capable of understanding the immediate challenge of life, whatever it may be? We are concerned, are we not? - not only here in Europe but also in Asia and India - with a challenge that demands quite a different approach from any method tried before. We have to respond to the challenge of the present crisis, surely, with a total mind, not with a fragmented mind, - not as Christians or Buddhists or Hindus or Communists or Catholics or Protestants or what you will. If we do so approach the challenge, from our own particular standpoint, we shall fail, because the challenge is far too big, too great, for us to respond to it partially, or with a mind conditioned as a Christian or Buddhist or Hindu. So it seems to me that it is very important to free the mind. and not to start from any premise, from any conclusion. Because if we do start with any conclusion, with any premise, we have already responded to the challenge according to our own particular conditioning. So what is important, if we are at all serious and earnest, is to ask ourselves whether the mind can be unconditioned, and not merely seek to condition it into a better, nobler pattern, - communist or socialist or catholic or what you will. Most of us are concerned with how to condition the mind into a nobler pattern; but can we not rather ask ourselves whether the mind can really be unconditioned? It seems to me that if we are at all serious, that is the fundamental issue. At present we are approaching life, with its extraordinarily fundamental challenge, either as a Christian, or as a Communist, or as a Hindu, or as a Buddhist, or what you will, and so our response is always conditioned, limited narrow and therefore our reaction to the challenge is very petty. Therefore there is always conflict, there is always sorrow, confusion. My response being inadequate, insufficient, incomplete, must create within me a sense of conflict, from which arises sorrow. Realizing that one suffers, one tries to find a better, a nobler pattern of action, politically, or religiously, or economically, but it is still, essentially, conditioned. So surely, our problem is not the search for a better pattern offered by one or the other of the various political or religious groups. Nor can we return in our confusion to the past, as most people are apt to do when they are confused, - go back to something which we know, or which we have heard, or read of in books, which again is the constant pursuit, is it not?, of a better, nobler pattern of thinking, of conditioning. What we are talking about here is an entirely different matter, - which is, is it possible for the mind to be free, totally unconditioned? At present all our minds are conditioned from the moment we are born to the moment we die; our mind is shaped by circumstances, by society, by religion, by education, by all the various pressures and strains of life, moral, social, ethical, and all the rest of it. And, having been shaped, we try to respond to something new; but obviously such a response can never be complete. There is always a sense of failure, of guilt, of misery. So, our question is then, is it not?, whether the mind can be really free from all conditioning. And it seems to me that it is really a very fundamental issue. And if we are at all earnest, not only for the time being, temporarily, but if we would maintain an earnestness to find out if the mind can be free from all conditioning, that requires serious attention. I do not think any book, any philosophy, any leader, any teacher, is going to help us, for surely each one of us must find out for ourselves whether the mind can be free. Some will say "Obviously it cannot", and others may assert that it can. But both the assertions will have very little meaning, will they not?, because the moment I accept one or the other, that very acceptance is a form of conditioning. Whereas if I, as an individual, - if there is such a thing as an individual, - if I as a human being try to find out for myself, to inquire earnestly whether it is at all possible to free the mind totally from conditioning, both the conscious as well as the unconscious, surely that is the beginning of self-knowledge. I do not know it I can uncondition the mind; I neither accept nor reject the possibility, but I want to find out. That is the only way to approach life, is it not? Because a mind that is already in bondage, either in the bondage of nationalism, or in the bondage of any particular religion, or held in a particular belief, however ancient or modern, - such a mind is obviously incapable of really searching out what is true. A mind that is tethered to any belief, whatever the belief be, a mind that is merely held by an experience, whatever that experience be, - how can such a mind investigate, proceed to understand? It can only move within the circle of its own bondage. So, if one is at all serious, - and the times surely demand seriousness, - then each one of us must ask ourselves "Is it possible for the mind to be free from all conditioning?" Now, what does this conditioning mean, actually? What is the nature of this conditioning? Why is the mind so willing to fit itself into the pattern of a particular design - as of a nation or group or religion? So long as the `me', the self, is important, is there not always some form of conditioning? Because, the self assumes various forms, it exists as the `me' or the `you', as the `I', only when there is some form of conditioning. So long as I think of myself as a Hindu, that very thought is the outcome of the feeling of importance. So long as I identify myself with any particular racial group, that very identification gives importance to me. And so long as I am attached to any particular property, name, family, and so on, that very attachment encourages the `me', which is the very centre of all conditioning. So, if we are serious and earnest in our endeavour to find out if the mind is capable of freeing itself from all conditioning, surely, consciously, there must be no identification with any religion, with any racial group; there must be freedom from all attachment. For where there is identification or attachment, there is no love. The mere rejection of a belief, of a particular church or a particular religion or other conditioning, is not freedom. But to understand the whole process of it, go into it deeply, consciously, that requires a certain alertness of mind, the non-acceptance of all authority. To have self-knowledge, knowledge of myself as a total human being, the conscious as well as the unconscious, not just one fragment of myself, I must investigate, proceed to understand the whole nature of myself, find out step by step, - but not according to any pattern or any philosophy. according to any particular leader. Investigation into myself is not possible if I assume anything. If I assume that I am merely the product of environment, investigation ceases. Or if I assume that I have within me a spiritual entity, the unfolding God, or what you will, that assumption has already precluded, stopped, further investigation. Self-knowledge, then, is the beginning of the freedom of the mind. There cannot be understanding of oneself, fundamentally, deeply, if there is any form of assumption, any authority, either of the past or of the present. But the mind is frightened to let go of all authority, and investigate, because it is afraid of not arriving at a particular result. So the mind is concerned with achieving a result, but not with the investigation to find out, to understand. That is why we cling to authority, religious, psychological, or philosophical. Being afraid, we demand guides, authorities, scriptures, saviours, inspiration in various forms, and so the mind is made incapable of standing alone and trying to find out. But one must stand alone, completely, totally alone, to find out what is true. And that is why it is important not to belong to any group. Because truth is discovered only by the mind that is alone, - not in the sense of being lonely, isolated, I do not mean that at all, because isolation is merely a form of resistance, a form of defence. Only the mind that has gone into this question of self-knowledge deeply, and in the process of investigation has put aside all authority, all churches, all saviours, all following, - only such a mind is capable of discovering reality. But to come to that point is extremely arduous, and most of us are frightened. Because to reject all the things that have been put upon us, to put aside the various forms of religions, churches, beliefs, is the rejection of society, is to withstand society, is it not? He who is outside society, who is no longer held by society, - only such a person is then capable of finding out what God is, what truth is. To merely repeat that one believes or does not believe in God or in truth has very little significance. You can be brought up as a child not to believe in God, as is being done; or, as a child, be brought up to believe in God. They are both the same; because both minds are conditioned. But to find out what is true, if there is such a thing as God, that requires freedom of the mind, complete freedom, which means unconditioning the mind from all the past. This unconditioning is essential, because the times demand a new creative understanding, not the mere response of a past conditioning. Any society that does not respond to the new challenge of a group or an individual, obviously decays. And it seems to me that if we would create a new world, a new society, we must have a free mind. And that mind cannot come about without real self-knowledge. Do not say "All this has been said by so-and-so on the past. We can never find out the totality of our whole self." On the contrary, I think one can. To find out, the mind must surely be in a state in which there is no condemnation. Because what I am is the fact. Whatever I am, - jealous, envious, haughty, ambitious, whatever it be, - can we not just observe it without condemnation? Because the very process of condemnation is another form of conditioning `what is'. If one would understand the whole process of the self, there must be no identification, condemnation or judgment, but an awareness in which there is no choice, - just observation. If you attempt it, you will see how extraordinarily difficult it is. Because all our morality, our social and educational training, leads us to compare and to condemn, to judge. And the moment you judge, you have stopped the process of inquiry, insight. Thus in the process of relationship, one begins to discover what the ways of the self are. It is important not to merely listen to what is being said and accept or reject it, but to observe the process of our own thinking in all our relationships. For in relationship, which is the mirror, we see ourselves as we actually are. And if we do not condemn or compare, then it is possible to penetrate deeper into the whole process of consciousness. And it is only then that there can be a fundamental revolution, - not the revolution of the communist or what you will, but a real regeneration, in the deepest sense of that word. The man who is freeing himself from all conditioning, who is fully aware, - such a man is a religious man; not the man who merely believes. And it is only such a religious man who is capable of producing a revolution in the world, Surely that is the fundamental issue for all of us, - not to substitute one belief for another belief, to join this group or that, to go from one religion to another, one cage to another. As individuals we are confronted with enormous problems, which can only be answered in the process of understanding ourselves. It is only such religious human beings, - who are free, unconditioned, - who can create a new world. Several questions have been sent in. And in considering them, it is important to bear in mind that life has no answer. If you are merely looking for an answer to the various problems, then you will never find it, you will only find a solution that is suitable to you, that you like or dislike, that you reject or accept; but that is not the answer, it is only your response to a particular like or dislike. But if one does not seek an answer, but looks at the problem, really investigates it, then the answer is in the problem itself. But you see, we are so eager to find an answer. We suffer, our life is a confusion of conflict, and we want to put an end to that confusion, we want to find a solution; and so we are everlastingly seeking an answer. Probably there is no answer, in the way we want it answered. But if we do not seek an answer, - which is extraordinarily difficult, and which means to investigate the whole problem patiently, without condemnation, without accepting or rejecting, just investigate, and proceed patiently, - then you will find the problem itself, in its unfolding, reveals extraordinary things. For that the mind must be free, it must not take sides, choose. Question: It is fairly obvious that we are the product of our environment, and so we react according to how we are brought up. Is it ever possible to break down this background and live without self-contradiction? Krishnamurti: When we say it is fairly obvious that we are the product of our environment, I wonder if we are really aware of such a fact? Or, is it merely a verbal statement without much meaning? When we say that we are the product of the environment, is that so? Do you actually feel that you are the product of the whole weight of Christian tradition, conscious as well as unconscious, the culture, the civilization, the wars, the hatreds, the imposition of various beliefs? Are you really aware of it? Or, do you merely reject certain portions of that conditioning, and keep others, those which are pleasant, profitable, which give you sustenance, strength? Those you keep, do you not?, and the rest, which are rather unpleasant, tiresome, you reject. But, if you are aware that you are the product of environment, then you must be aware of the total conditioning, not merely those parts which you have rejected but also those which are pleasant and which you want to keep. So, is one truly aware that one the product of the environment? And, if one is aware, then where does self-contradiction arise? You understand the issue? Within ourselves we are in contradiction, we are confused, we are pulled in different directions by our desires, ideals, beliefs, because our environment has given us certain values, certain standards. Surely the contradiction is part of the environment, it is not separate from it. We are part of the environment, - which is, religion, education, social morality, business values, tradition, beliefs, various impositions of churches, governments, the whole process of the past: those are all superficial conditionings; and there are also the inward unconscious responses to those superficial conditionings. When one is aware of all that, is there a contradiction? Or, does contradiction arise because I am only partially aware of the conditioning of the environment, and assume that there are parts of me which are not conditioned, thereby creating a conflict within myself? So long as I feel guilty because I do not conform to a particular pattern of thought, of morality, obviously there is contradiction; the very nature of guilt is contradiction. I have certain values, which have been imposed or self-cultivated, and so long as I accept those values there must be contradiction. But cannot the mind understand that it is entirely the product of conditioning? The mind is the result of time, conditioning. experience, and therefore invariably there must be contradiction within itself. Surely, so long as the mind is trying to fit into any particular pattern of thought, of morality, of belief, then that patten itself creates the contradiction. And when we say "How am I to be free from self-contradiction?", there is only one answer, - to be free from all thought which creates the pattern. Then only is it possible for the mind to be free from self-contradiction. Please, if I may suggest, do not reject this, - perhaps you have to think about it, go more deeply into it. It is something you have not heard before, and the obvious reaction is to say "Well, it is nonsense", and throw it out. But if you would understand, if you will listen to it deeply, you will see that so lone as the mind, which is the centre of all thought, is trying to think in a certain pattern, there will be contradiction. If it is thinking exclusively in that pattern, then there is no contradiction for the moment; but as soon as it diverges, moves away at all from the pattern, there must be contradiction. So, the question "How is one to be free from self-contradiction?" is obviously a wrong question. The question is, "How can the mind be free from all environmental influences?" The mind itself is the product of environment. So as long as the mind is battling against the environment, trying to shake it, trying to break away from it, that very breaking away is a contradiction, and therefore there is a struggle. But if the mind is observant, is aware that it is itself the product of environment, then the mind becomes quiet, then the mind no longer struggles against itself. And being quiet, still, then it will be free from environment. Perhaps you will kindly think about this, - not accept or reject, but see the truth of what is being said; and you cannot understand the truth of something if you are battling against it or defending it. Can we not see that the very nature of the mind is to contradict, to be a slave to environment? - because it is the product of time, of centuries of tradition, of fear, of hope, of inspiration, of stress and strain. Such a mind is conditioned, totally. And, when such a mind rejects or accepts, that very acceptance or rejection is the further continuance of conditioning. Whereas when the mind is aware that it is totally conditioned, consciously as well as unconsciously, then it is still, and in that stillness there is freedom from conditioning. Then there is no contradiction. The division between contradiction and complete integration cannot be drawn intellectually, verbally. Integration comes into being only when there is the total understanding of oneself. And that understanding of oneself does not come through analysis, because the problem then arises, who is the analyser? The analyser himself is conditioned, obviously; and therefore that which he analyses is also the result of conditioning. So, what is important is not, how to eradicate self-contradiction, but to understand the whole process of the conditioning of the mind. That can only be understood in relationship, in our daily life, seeing how the mind reacts, observing, watching, being aware, without condemning. Then you will see how extraordinarily difficult it is to free the mind, because the mind assumes so many things, it has deposited so many assertions, values, beliefs. When the mind is constantly aware, without judging, without condemning, without comparing, then such a mind can begin to understand the total process of itself, and therefore become still. Only in that stillness of mind can that which is real come into being. May 17, 1955 AMSTERDAM 2ND PUBLIC TALK 19TH MAY 1955 It seems to me that one of the most difficult things to do is to listen to somebody with a quiet mind. I think most of us listen without giving our whole attention. I mean by attention, a state in which there is no particular object upon which the mind is concentrated. Most of us already have many opinions, conclusions, and experiences, and we listen to another through this cross-section of our own particular idiosyncrasies, through our own particular forms of habit of thought. So it is very difficult for most of us to understand what the other person is actually saying. Our opinions, our beliefs, our experiences, all intervene, distract, and so warp and twist what the other one is saying. If we could put aside our particular opinions, our conclusions, and the various forms of our own idiosyncrasies, and listen attentively, then perhaps there would be an understanding between us. After all, you are here, if I may point it out, to understand what is being said. And to understand, you must listen to what is actually being said, and not merely listen to opinions you may have about what is being said. You can form your opinions, if you must, afterwards. I do not think what is being said is really a matter of opinion. If it is a matter of opinion, then there will be contradiction, your opinion against another opinion. Opinion, I feel, has no significance when one is facing facts. You cannot have an opinion about a fact, - either it is, or it is not. So it seems to me that it is important to listen, not with opinions clouding the mind, but with a mind that is capable of patiently listening to the whole matter without forming a conclusion. Surely any form of conclusion is also an opinion, and therefore restricts the mind. What we are going to talk about does not demand opinions. On the contrary, we must approach the subject of our inquiry tentatively, hesitatingly, without any hypothesis, without any conclusion. That is very difficult for most of us; because we want to arrive, to get somewhere, - either to bolster up, to strengthen, our own particular beliefs, or to argumentatively enhance our own particular thought. So, if I may suggest, these talks will be utterly futile, will have no meaning, if we enter into controversy, setting one opinion against another. Can we not together, you and I, endeavour to find out what is true? To find out, the mind must be somewhat energetic, somewhat purposive, and not merely clogged by opinion. What we are going to discuss this evening is, how the mind can be creative. That is, can we not find out if it is possible for the mind to be completely purified of all its inhibitions, conditionings, its various forms of fear, and social impositions, so that the mind is not held, put into a frame merely functioning mechanically? Can we discover for ourselves what it is to be creative? It seems to mp, that is one of the most fundamental questions of the present time, perhaps of all time. Because obviously, we are not creative; we are merely repeating patterns of thought, even though we may be making mechanical progress. I do not mean, by creativeness, merely self-expression, - writing a poem or painting a picture. I mean, by that word, something entirely different. Creativeness, reality, God, or what you will, must be a state of mind in which there is no repetition, in which there is no continuity through memory, as we know it. God, or truth, must be totally new, unexperienced before, something which is not the product of memory, of knowledge, of experience. Because if it is the product of knowledge, it is merely a projection, a desire, a wish, and obviously that cannot be what is true or what is real. Reality must surely be something unimagined, unexpressed, totally new; and the mind which would discover such a reality must be unconditioned, so that it is truly individual. Obviously we are not truly individuals. We may each have a different name, different tendencies, a particular house, a particular bank account, we may each belong to a particular family, have certain mannerisms, belong to a certain religion, - but that does not make for individuality. Our whole mind is the result of the environmental influences of a particular society, of a particular culture, of a particular religion; and so long as it belongs to any of these particularities, obviously the mind is not simple, is not innocent in its directness. Surely a clear, simple mind is essential, if we are to find out what is real. So, is it possible for you and me to find out together if one can liberate the mind from all this weight of influence, of tradition, of belief? Because it seems to me, that is the only purpose of living, -to find what is reality. If we would make that dis- covery, we must first find out what it is that makes us conform. We are conforming all the time, are we not? Our whole life, our whole tendency, - our education, our morality, all the sanctions of religion, - is to make us conform. Our religion is essentially based on conformity. And surely a mind that conform; is not a free mind, a mind capable of inquiry. So can you and I inquire into the whole process of conformity, what it is that makes the mind yield to a particular pattern of society, of culture? We conform, do we not?, because essentially we are afraid. Through fear we create authority, - the authority of religion, the authority of a leader, - because we want to be safe, secure: not so much physiologically, perhaps; but essentially inwardly, psychologically, we want to be secure; and so we create a society which assures us outwardly of security. This is a fact, a psychological fact, and not a thing to be debated or quarrelled over. That is, I want to be secure; psychologically, inwardly, I want to be certain, - certain of success, certain of achievement, certain of `getting there', wherever `there' may be. So to achieve, to arrive, to be something, I must have authority. Please, it would be advisable, if these talks are to be at all worthwhile, that in listening you are really examining your own mind. The talk, the words, are merely a description of the state of your own mind; and merely to listen to the words will have no meaning. But in the process of listening, if one is capable of looking within oneself and seeing the operation of one's own mind, then such descriptive listening will have significance. And I hope, if I may suggest it, that you are doing this, and not merely listening to my words. Each one of us desires to be secure, - in our relationships, in our love, in the things that we believe in, in our experiences; we want to be secure, certain, without any doubt. And since that is our inmost desire, psychologically, then obviously we must rely on authority. Surely that is the anatomy of authority, is it not? - the structure of it; that is why the mind creates authority. You may reject the authority of a particular society, of a particular leader, or of a particular religion; but when you yourself create another authority. Then your own experiences, your own knowledge, becomes the guide. Because, the mind seeks always to be certain; it cannot live in a state of uncertainty. So it is always seeking certainty, and thereby creating authority. And that is what our society is based on, is it not?, with its culture, with its knowledge, with its religions. It is essentially based on authority, - the authority of tradition, of the priest, of the church, or the authority of the expert. So we become slaves to the experts, because our intention is to be secure. But surely, if we would find something real, not merely repeat the words `God', `truth', which have no meaning when repeated, - if we would make a discovery, the mind must be completely insecure, must it not?, in a state of non-dependency on any authority. That is very difficult for most of us, because from childhood we are brought up to believe, to hold to some form of dependency; and if the leader, the guide, the teacher, the priest, fails, we create our own image of what we think is true, - which is merely the reaction of our own particular form of conditioning. So it seems to me that so long as the mind is shaped and controlled by society, - not merely the environmental, educational, and cultural society, but the whole concept of authority, belief and conformity, - it obviously cannot find that which is true, and therefore it cannot be creative; it can only be imitative, repetitive. The problem therefore is, not how to be creative, but whether we can understand the whole process of fear, - the fear of what the neighbour says, the fear of going wrong, the fear of losing money, the fear of loneliness, the fear of not coming up to the mark, of not being a success, in this world or in some other world. So long as there is any form of fear, it creates authority upon which the mind depends, and obviously such a mind is not capable of pursuing, investigating, putting aside everything to find out what it is to be truly creative. So, is it not important to ask ourselves, each one of us, whether we are really individuals, and not merely assert that we are? Actually we are not. You may have a separate body, a different face, a different name and family; but the inward structure of your mind is essentially conditioned by society; therefore you are not an individual. Surely only the mind that is not bound by the impositions of society, with all the implications involved, can be free to find out that which is true and that which is God. Otherwise, all we do is merely to repeat catastrophe; otherwise, there is no possibility of that revolution which will bring about a totally different kind of world. It seems to me that is the only important thing, - not to what society, to what group, to what religion you should or should not belong, which has all become so infantile, immature, but for you to find out for yourself if the mind can be totally free from all the impositions of custom, tradition, and belief, and thereby be free to find out what is true. Then only can we be creative human beings. There are several questions to be answered. And before I answer them, let us find out what we mean by a problem. A problem exists only when the mind desires to get somewhere, to achieve, to become something. It is `this', and it wants to transform itself into `that'. Or, I am `here', and I must get `there'. I am ugly, and I want to be beautiful, physiologically as well as psychologically. When the mind is concerned with the movement of `getting there', becoming something, then the problem arises, because then you have the question "How?". So we are always creating problems, because our whole thinking process is based on the movement towards something, - towards the ultimate, towards the final, towards being happy, towards the ideal. But I think there is a different way of looking at it, which is, not to proceed from `what is' towards something else, but to proceed from `what is', not in any preconceived direction. Is it not possible to realize `what is', - that one is greedy, envious, or any of the various forms of passion and lust, - and to start from that, without the desire to change into something else? The moment there is the desire to change that into something else, you have the problem. Whereas to proceed from `what is' does not create a problem. I hope I am making myself clear. We see what we are, if we are at all aware; and then we proceed to change it; we want to transform `what is' into something else; and thereby create conflict, problems, and so on. But, if we proceed with `what is', without wanting to transform it, - if we observe it, remain with it, understand it, then there is no problem. So in answering these questions we are concerned, not with how to proceed in order to bring about a change, but rather to understand what actually is. If I understand what actually is, then there is no problem. A fact does not create a problem. Only an opinion about a fact creates a problem. Question: Can there be religion without a church? Krishnamurti: What is religion? What is the fact, not the ideal? When we say we are religious, that we belong to a certain religion, what do we mean by it? We mean that we hold to certain dogmas, beliefs, conclusions, certain conditionings of the mind. To us, religion is nothing more than that. Either I go to church, or, I do not go to church; either I am a Christian, or I give up Christianity and join some other form of religion, assume some other set of beliefs, perform some other series of rituals, obeying certain dogmas, tenets, and so on. That is the actual fact. And, is that religion? Can a mind whose beliefs are the result of impositions, of conditioning by a particular society, - can such a mind find what is God? Or can the mind which has been trained not to believe, ever find God either? Surely, a mind that belongs to any religion, - that is, which belongs to any particular form of belief, is stimulated by any form of ritual, has dogmas, believes in various saviours, - surely such a mind is incapable of being religious. It may repeat certain words, may attend church, may be very moral, very respectable: but surely such a mind is not a religious mind. A mind that belongs to a church of any kind, - Hindu. Buddhist, Christian, or what you will -is merely conforming. being conditioned by its own environment. by tradition, by authority, by fear, by the desire to be saved. Such a mind is not a religious mind. But to understand the whole process of why the mind accepts belief, why the mind conforms to certain patterns of thought, dogmas, - which is obviously through fear - to be aware of all that, inwardly, psychologically, and to be free of it; such a mind is then religious mind. Virtue, surely, is necessary only to keep the mind orderly; but virtue does not necessarily lead to reality. Order is necessary, and virtue supplies order. But the mind must go beyond virtue and morality. To be merely a slave to morality, to conformity, to accept the authority of the church, or of any kind, - surely such a mind is incapable of finding what is true, what is God. Please do not accept what I am saying. It would be absurd if you accepted, because that would be another form of authority. But if you will look into it, look into your own mind, how it conforms, how it is afraid, what innumerable beliefs it has upon which it relies for its own security, therefore engendering fear, - if one is aware of all that, then obviously, without any struggle, without any effort, all those things are put aside. Then truly, such a mind is in revolt against society, such a mind is capable of creating a religious revolution, - not a political or economic revolution, which is not a revolution at all. A real revolution is in the mind, - the mind that frees itself from society. Such freedom is not merely to put on a different kind of coat. Real revolution comes only when the mind rejects all impositions, through understanding. Only such a mind is capable of creating a different world, because only such a mind is then capable of receiving that which is true. Question: How can I resist distraction? Krishnamurti: The questioner asks, "How can I not yield, give in, to any form of distraction?". That is, he wants to concentrate on something, and his mind is distracted, taken away; and he wants to know how he can resist it. Now, is there such a thing as distraction? Surely the so-called distraction is obviously the thing in which the mind is interested, otherwise you would not go after it. So, why condemn a thing by calling it a distraction? Whereas, if the mind is capable of not calling it distraction, but is pursuing each thought, being alert, and aware of every thought that arises, - not as a practice, but being aware of every thought that it is thinking, - then there is no distraction, then there is no resistance. It is much more important to understand resistance than to ward off distraction. We spend so much energy in resisting; our whole life is taken up in resisting, in defending, in wanting, - "That is a distraction, and this is not", "This is right and that is wrong". Therefore we resist, defend, build a wall in ourselves against something. Our whole life is spent that way; and so we are a mass of resistances, contradictions, distractions and concentrations. Whereas if we are able to look, be aware of all that we are thinking, and not call it a distraction, not give it a name, saying, "This is good and this is bad", but just observe every thought as it arises, then we will find that the mind becomes, not a battlefield of contradictions, of one desire against another, of one thought opposing another, but only a state of thinking. After all, thought, however noble, however wide and deep, is always conditioned. Thinking is a reaction to memory. So why divide thought into distraction and interest? Because the whole process of thinking is a process of limitation, there is no free thinking. If you observe, you will see all thinking is essentially based on conditioning. Thinking is the result of memory, reaction; it is very automatic, mechanical. I ask you something, and your memory responds. You have read a book, and you repeat it. So, if you go into this question of thinking, you will see there can never be a freedom in thinking, freedom in thought. There is freedom only when there is no thinking, - which does not mean, going into a state of blankness. On the contrary, it requires the greatest form of intelligence to realize that all thinking is the reaction, the response to memory, and therefore mechanical. And it is only when the mind is very still, completely still, without any movement of thought, that there is a possibility of discovering something totally new. Thought can never discover anything new; because thought is the projection of the past, thought is the result of time, of many, many days, and centuries of yesterdays. Knowing all that, being aware of all that, the mind becomes still. Then there is a possibility of something new taking place, something totally unexperienced, unimaginable, not something which is a mere projection of the mind itself. Question: What kind of education should my child have, in order to face this chaotic world? Krishnamurti: This is really a vast question, isn't it?, not to be answered in a couple of minutes. But perhaps we can put it briefly, and it may be gone into further afterwards. The problem is not what kind of education the child should have, but rather that the educator needs education, the parent needs education. (Murmur of laughter.) No, please, this is not a clever remark for you to laugh at, be amused at. Do we not need a totally different kind of education? - not the mere cultivation of memory, which gives the child a technique, which will help him to get a job, a livelihood, but, an education that will make him truly intelligent. Intelligence is the comprehension of the whole process, the total process, of life, not knowledge of one fragment of life. So the problem is, really, can we, the grown-up people, help the child to grow in freedom, in complete freedom? This does not mean allowing him to do what he likes; but can we help the child to understand what it is to be free because we understand ourselves what it is to be free? Our education now is merely a process of conformity, helping the child to conform to a particular pattern of society, in which he will get a job, become outwardly respectable, go to church, conform, and struggle until he dies. We do not help him to be free inwardly so that as he grows older he is able to face all the complexities of life, - which means, helping him to have the capacity to think, not teaching him what to think. For this, the educator himself must be capable of freeing his own mind from all authority, from all fear, from all nationality, from the various forms of belief and tradition, so that the child understands, with his help, with his intelligence, what it is to be free, what it is to question, to inquire, and to discover. But you see, we do not want such a society; we do not want a different world. We want the repetition of the old world, only modified, made a little better, a little more polished. We want the child to conform totally, not to think at all, not to be aware, not to be inwardly clear, - because if he is so inwardly clear, there is danger to all our established values. So, what is really involved in this question is, how to bring education to the educator. How can you and I, - because we, the parents, the society, are the educators, - how can you and I help to bring about clarity in ourselves? - so that the child may also be able to think freely, in the sense of having a still mind, a quiet mind, through which new things can be perceived and come into being. This is really a very fundamental question. Why is it that we are being educated at all? Just for a job? Just to accept Catholicism, or Protestantism, or Communism, or Hinduism? Just to conform to a certain tradition, to fit into a certain job? Or, is education something entirely different? - not the cultivation of memory, but the process of understanding. Understanding does not come through analysis; understanding comes only when the mind is very quiet, unburdened, no longer seeking success and therefore being thwarted, afraid of failure. Only when the mind is still, only then is there a possibility of understanding, and having intelligence. Such education is the right kind of education, from which obviously other things follow. But very few of us are interested in all that. If you have a child, you want him to have a job; that is all you are concerned with, -what is going to happen to his future. Should the child inherit all the things that you have, - the property, the values, the beliefs, the traditions, - or must he grow in freedom, so as to discover for himself what is true? That can only happen if you yourself are not inheriting, if you yourself are free to inquire, to find out what is true. May 19, 1955. AMSTERDAM 3RD PUBLIC TALK 22ND MAY 1955 I think it would be wise if we could listen to what we are going to consider with comparative freedom from prejudice, and not with the feeling that what is being said is merely the opinion of a Hindu coming from Asia with certain ideas. After all, there is no division in thought, thought has no nationality; and our problems, whether Asiatic, Indian or European, are the same. We can, unfortunately, conveniently divide our problems as though they were Asiatic and European; but in fact we have only problems. And if we would tackle them, not from any one point of view, but understand them totally, go into them profoundly, patiently, and diligently, it is first necessary to comprehend the many issues that confront each one of us. So, if I may suggest, it would be wise if we can dissociate ourselves for the time being from any nationality, from any particular form of religious belief, even from our own particular experiences, and consider fairly dispassionately what is being said. It seems to me that there must be a total revolution, - not mere reform, because reforms always breed further reforms, and there is no end to that process. But I feel it is important, when we are confronted with an enormous crisis, - as we are, - that there should be a total revolution in our minds, in our hearts, in our whole attitude towards life. That revolution cannot be brought about by any outside pressure, by any circumstances, by any mere economic revolution, nor by leaving one form of religion to join another. Such adjustment is not revolution; it is merely a modified continuity of what has been. It seems to me that it is very necessary at the present time, and perhaps at all times, if we would understand the enormous challenge we are confronted with, that we approach it totally, with all our being, - not as a Dutchman, with a European culture, or a Hindu, with certain beliefs and superstitions, but as a human being, stripped of all our prejudices, our nationalities, our particular forms of religious conviction. I feel it is important that we should not indulge in mere reformation, because all such reform is merely an outward adjustment to a particular circumstance, to a particular pressure and strain; and that adjustment obviously does not bring about a different world, a different state of being, in which human beings can live at peace with each other. So it seems to me that it is very important to put aside all consideration of reformation, - political, economic, social, or what you will, - and bring about a total inward revolution. Such a revolution can only take place religiously. That is, when one is really a religious person, only then is it possible to have such a revolution. Economic revolution is merely a fragmentary revolution. Any social reform is still fragmentary, separative; it is not a total reformation. So, can we consider this matter, not as a group, or as a Dutchman, but as individuals? - because this revolution obviously must begin with the individual. True religion can never be collective. It must be the outcome of individual endeavour, individual search, individual liberation and freedom. God is not to be found collectively. Any form of collectivism in search can only be a conditioning reaction. The search for reality can only be on the part of the individual. I think it is very important to understand this, because we are always considering what is going to be the response of the mass. Do we not always say "This is too difficult for the mass, for the general public"? - and do we not seek every form of excuse that we can find in order not to alter, not to bring about a fundamental revolution within ourselves? We find, do we not?, innumerable excuses for indefinite postponement of direct individual revolution. If you and I can separate ourselves from collective thinking, from thinking as Dutchmen or Christians or Buddhists or Hindus, then we can tackle the problem of bringing about a total revolution within ourselves. For it is only that total revolution within oneself which can reveal that which is of the highest. It is enormously difficult to separate ourselves from the collective, because we are afraid to stand alone, we are afraid to be thought different from others, we are afraid of the public, what another says. We have innumerable forms of self-defence. To bring about a revolution, a fundamentally radical change, is it not important that we should consider the process of the mind? Because, after all, that is the only instrument we have, - the mind that has been educated for centuries, the mind that is the result of time, the mind that is the storehouse of innumerable experiences, memories. With that mind, which is essentially conditioned, we try to find an answer to the innumerable problems of our existence. That is, with a mind that has been shaped, moulded by circumstances, a mind that is never free, with a process of thinking which is the outcome of innumerable reactions. conscious or unconscious, we hope to solve our problems. So it seems to me that it is very important to understand oneself, because self-knowledge is the beginning of this radical revolution of which I am talking. After all, if I do not know what I think, and the source of my thought, the ways I function, - not only outwardly, but deep down, the various unconscious wounds, hopes, fears, frustrations, - if I am not totally aware of all that, then whatever I think, whatever I do, has very little significance. But to be aware of that totality of my being requires attention, patience, and the constant pursuit of awareness. That is why I think it is essential for those of us who are really serious about these things, who are endeavouring to find out the answer to our innumerable problems, that we should understand our own ways of thinking, and break away totally from any form of inward constriction, imposition and dogma, so as to be able to think freely and search out what is true. This requires, does it not?, a freedom from all authority, - not to follow, not to imitate, not to conform inwardly. At present our whole thinking, our whole being, is essentially the result of conformity, of training, of moulding. We comply, we adjust, we accept, because we are deeply afraid to be different, to stand alone, to inquire. Inwardly we want assurance, we want to succeed, we want to be on the right side. So we build various forms of authority, patterns of thought, and thereby become imitative human beings, outwardly conforming because inwardly we are essentially frightened to be alone. This aloneness, this detachment, is surely not contrary to relationship with the collective. If we are able to stand alone, then possibly we shall be able to help the collective. But if we are only part of the collective, then obviously we can only reform, bring about certain changes in the pattern of the collective. To be truly individual is to be totally outside of the collective because we understand what the whole implication of the collective is. Such an individual is capable of bringing about a transformation in the collective. I think it is important to bear this in mind, since most of us are concerned with the so-called mass, the collective, the whole group. Obviously the group cannot change itself, - it has never done so historically, or now. Only the individual who is capable of detaching himself totally from the group, from the collective, can bring about a radical change; and he can only detach himself totally when he is seeking that which is real. That means he must be really a religious person, - but not the religion of belief, of churches, of dogmas, of creeds. Only one who is free from the collective can find out what is true. And that is extraordinarily difficult, for the mind is always projecting what it thinks to be religion, God, truth. So it is very important to understand the whole process of oneself, to have knowledge of the `me', the self, the thinker; because if one is so capable of regarding one's whole process of living, one can free the mind from the collective, from the group and so become an individual. Such an individual is not in opposition to the collective, - opposition is merely a reaction. But as the mind understands both the conscious and the unconscious process of itself, then we will see that there is quite a different state, - a state which is neither of the collective, nor of the separate entity, the individual; he has gone beyond both, and therefore is capable of understanding that which is true. The individual who is not in opposition to the collective in his search for truth, is really revolutionary. And it seems to me that to be a true revolutionary is the essential thing. Such individuals are creative, able to bring about a different world. Because after all, our problems, whether in India, America, Russia, or here, are the same, - we are human beings, we want to be happy. human beings, we want to be happy. We want to have a mind that is capable of deep penetration, and that is not merely satisfied with the superficiality of life. We want to go into this most profoundly, individually, to find out that which is the eternal, the everlasting, the unknown. But that thing cannot be found if we are merely pursuing the pattern of conformity. That is why it is important, it seems to me, that there should be some of us who are really earnest, not merely listening with curiosity or just as a passing fancy, but who are really essentially concerned with bringing about transformation in the world so that there can be peace and happiness for each one of us. For this, it seems to me, it is very important that we should cease to think collectively, and should as human beings - not as mere repetitive machines of certain dogmas and beliefs - find out, inquire, search out for ourselves, what is true, what is God. In that discovery is the solution to all our problems. Without that discovery, our problems multiply, there will be more wars, more misery, more sorrow. We may have peace temporarily, through terror. But if we are individuals, in the right sense of that word, seeking that which is real, - which can only be found when we understand the whole process, conscious as well as unconscious, of our own thinking, - then there is a possibility of such a revolution, which is the only revolution that can bring about a happier state for man. Question: In Holland there are many people of goodwill. What can we really do in order to work for peace in the world? Krishnamurti: Why do you restrict the people of goodwill to Holland? (Laughter). Don't you think there are people of goodwill all over the world? But you see, peace doesn't come about by goodwill; peace is something entirely different. It is not the cessation of war. Peace is a state of the mind; peace is a cessation of the effort to be something, peace is the denial of ambition, the ending of the desire to achieve, to become, to succeed. We think peace is merely the gap, the interval, between two wars. And probably, through the terror of the hydrogen bomb, we shall have peace of some kind or other. But surely, that is not peace. There is peace only when you have no separative nationalities and sovereignties, when you do not consider somebody else as inferior in race, or somebody else as superior, when there are no divisions in religions, you a Christian and another a Hindu or Buddhist or Muslim. Peace can only come about when you, as an individual, work for peace. This does not mean gathering yourselves into groups and working for peace; then what you create will be merely a conformity to a pattern called peace. But to bring about lasting peace is surely something entirely different. After all, how can a man who is ambitious, struggling, competitive, brutal, - how can such a man bring about peace in the world? You may say "What will happen to me if I am not ambitious? Will I not decay? Must I not struggle?". It is because we are ambitious, because we have struggled and pushed each other aside in our desire for achievement, success, that we have created a world in which there are wars. I think if we could really understand what it is to live without ambition, without this everlasting desire to succeed, - either in business, in schools, in the family, - if we could really understand the psychological content of ambition, with all the implications that are involved, then we would abandon this meaningless activity. The ambitious man is not a happy man, he is always afraid of frustration, burdened by the misery of effort and struggle. Such a man cannot create a peaceful world. Also those who believe in a particular form of church, - the Communist, the Catholic, the Protestant, the Hindu, - they are not peaceful people, they can never bring about peace in the world, because they are in themselves divided, broken, torn. It is only the integrated human being, he who understands this division and all its corruption, - it is only such a human being who can bring about peace. But we do not want to give up our cherished hopes, our fancies, our beliefs. We want to carry all that into the world of peace. We want to create a world of peace with all the elements that are destructive. Therefore you never have peace. It is only the mind which has understood itself, which is quiet, which does not demand, which is not seeking success, which is not trying to become or to be somebody, - it is only such a mind that can create a world in which there is peace. Question: Is there life after death? Krishnamurti: I see you are much more interested in that than in the previous question! It is extraordinary how we are interested in death. We are not interested in living, but we are interested in how we are going to die, and if there is something after. Let us go into the problem, if you will, seriously; because it is an enormous problem. To understand the whole implications of the question, one must approach it very carefully, wisely. You cannot approach it wisely if you have any belief about it, if you say, -because you have read about it or you have a hope or intuition or a longing for it, - that there is life after death. Surely, if you would understand the problem, you must approach it afresh, anew, in a state of mind which is inquiring and not believing, a state of mind which says "I do not know, but I want to find out", - not a mind which says there is, or there is not, a continuity after death. Surely, that is fairly obvious. I think that is the first step towards finding out the truth about death and after- wards; that is the only way to approach any problem, especially a human problem, - to say "I do not know, but I want to find out". To say this is very difficult, -because most of us have read so much, we have so many desires, so many hopes, so many longings, we are so afraid, and therefore already have many conclusions, many beliefs, all telling us that there is some kind of continuity, some kind of life after death. So we have already preconceived what it is; your own fears dictate what it should be. So, to find out the truth of the matter, is it not important that first there must be freedom from all knowledge concerning death? After all, death is the unknown, and to find out, one must enter into death while living. Please listen. One must have the capacity to enter that which we call death while we are capable of breathing, thinking, acting. Otherwise, if you die, - through disease, through accident, - then you become unconscious, and there is no understanding of what lies after. But actively to be able, while living, with full consciousness, to understand the whole problem of what death is, requires astonishing energy, capacity, inquiry. First, what is it that we are afraid of in death? Surely we are afraid, are we not?, of ceasing to be, not having continuity. That is, I either cease to be, or I hope to continue. When this thing called the body, the organism, the mechanism, dies, through various forms of disease, accident, or what you will, there is fear of `me' not continuing. The `me' is the various qualities, the virtues, the idiosyncrasies, the experiences, the passions, the values which I have cultivated, the memories which I have cherished, and those memories which I have put aside, - all that is the `me', surely. The `me' that is identified with property, with a house, with a family, with a friend, with a wife, with a husband, with experiences, which has cultivated certain virtues, which wants to do something, which wants to fulfil, which has innumerable memories, pleasant or unpleasant, - that `me' says "I am afraid, I want an assurance that there is a form of continuity". Now, that which continues without breaking cannot ever be creative, can it? Creativeness comes into being only when there is the cessation of continuity. If I am merely the result of past yesterdays, and continue to be still the same pattern in the future, it is merely the repetitive form of a certain pattern of thought, a continuity of memory. And such a continuity in time obviously cannot find that which is beyond time. The mind thinks in terms of time, - time being yesterday, today, and tomorrow, - and such a mind cannot possibly conceive of a state when there is no tomorrow. So it says "I must have continuity". It can only think in terms of time; and therefore it is everlastingly' frightened of death, because there may be the cessation of what has been. The question "Is there life after death?" is really very immature, is it not? Because if one understands the whole process of oneself, the `me', it is not very important whether you live or do not live afterwards. After all, what is the `me' except a bundle of memories? Please follow this. The `me' is merely a bundle of memories, values, experiences. And that `me' wants to continue. You may say that the `me' is not the only thing that is, - that there is a spiritual entity in that `me'. If there is a spiritual entity in that `me', that spirit has no death, it is timeless and beyond time; it cannot be conceived of, it cannot be thought of, it does not know fear. That may be or it say not be. But we are frightened, and what frightens us is the cessation of the `me' that is the product of time. So as long as I think in terms of time and death and fear, there can never be the discovery of that which is beyond time. Unfortunately, we want a categorical answer, "yes" or "no", to the question whether there is life after death. If I may point out, such a categorical answer is really quite an immature demand. Because life has no categorical answer "yes" or "no". It requires enormous penetration, insight, inquiry, to find out what is that state of mind which is beyond death. That is far more important than merely to inquire if there is life after death. Even if there is, what of it? You will be just as miserable, just as unhappy, in conflict and misery, struggling to fulfil, and all the rest of it. But it you will understand the whole process of the self, the `me', and let the mind free itself from its own considerations, from its own bondages, and therefore be still, then you will find the question of death has very little significance. Then death is part of living. While we are concerned with living, there is no death. Life is not an ending and a beginning. Life cannot be understood if there is fear of death, or anxiety to find out what lies beyond. All this requires enormous maturity and totality of thinking. But we are too impatient, we are too anxious, we want to have an immediate answer, we do not want to sit down and inquire, - not through books, not through some authority, but to inquire within ourselves. To penetrate the many layers of our own consciousness, and find out what is the truth, requires patience, serious endeavour, and a constancy of intention. Question: We are used to prayer. I have heard it said that meditation, as practised in the East, is a form of prayer. Is this right? Krishnamurti: Do not let us bother what the East practises or does not practise. Let us consider meditation and prayer and see if there is a difference. What do we mean by prayer? - essentially, is it not?, supplication, a petition, a demand to something which we consider higher. I have a problem, I am miserable, I suffer; and I pray for an answer, for a meaning, a significance. I am in trouble, and worn out with anxiety; and I pray. That is, I ask, I demand, I beg, I petition. And obviously, there is an answer; and we attribute it to something extraordinarily high, we say it is from God. But is it? Or, is it the response of the deep unconscious? Please, do not brush this aside, thinking that I am merely repeating psychoanalytical things. We are trying to inquire. Surely, God must be something totally beyond the demands of my particular worries, of my particular wounds and frustrations and hopes. God, or truth, must be something totally outside of time, unimaginable, unknowable by the mind that is conditioned, that is suffering. But if I can understand what is sorrow and how sorrow comes into being, then there is no petition, then the understanding of sorrow is the beginning of meditation. Prayer is entirely different from meditation. Prayer is the repetition of certain words that bring quietness to the mind. If you repeat certain words phrases, obviously it quietens the mind. And in that quietude there may be certain responses, a certain alleviation of suffering. But suffering returns again; because sorrow has not been fully fathomed and understood. So, suffering is the pro- blem, not, whether you should pray or not. The man who suffers is anxious to find an answer, an alleviation, a cessation of his sorrow, so he looks to somebody, - may be a medical doctor, or to a priest, or to `something beyond'. But he has not solved the fundamental problem of sorrow, so any answer that he may receive surely cannot be from the most supreme; it must be from the unconscious depths of the collective, or from himself. The understanding of sorrow is the beginning of meditation, because without understanding the whole process of sorrow, of desire, of struggle, of the innumerable efforts that we make to achieve, to succeed, - without understanding the whole process of the self, the `me', - sorrow is inevitable. You may pray as much as you will, go to church, repeat on your knees, but so long as the self, that seed of sorrow, is not understood, the mere repetition of words is nothing more than self-hypnosis. Whereas if one begins to understand the process of sorrow, by watching, - without condemning, without judging, - observing, in the mirror of relationship, all our words and our gestures, our attitudes, our values, then the mind can go deeper and deeper into the whole problem. Such a process is meditation. But there is no system of meditation. If you meditate according to a system, you are merely following another pattern of thinking, which will only lead to the result which that pattern offers. But if you are able to be aware of every thought, every feeling, and so uncover the various layers of consciousness, both the outward and the inward, then you will see that such meditation brings about a quietness of the mind, a state in which there is no movement of any kind, a complete stillness, - which is not of death. It is only then that one is capable of receiving that which is eternal. May 22, 1955. AMSTERDAM 4TH PUBLIC TALK 23RD MAY 1955 I think if each one of us could seriously inquire into what it is that we are each seeking, then perhaps our endeavour to find something lasting may have some significance. For surely, most of us are seeking something. Either the search is the outcome of some deep frustration, or it is the outcome of an escape from the reality of our daily life, or, the search is a means of avoiding the various problems of life. I think our seriousness depends on what it is we are seeking. Most of us, unfortunately, are very superficial; and we do not perhaps know how to go deeply, to dig profoundly, so as to reach something more than the mere reactions of the mind. So I think it is important to find out what it is that we are seeking, each one of us, and why we are seeking; what the motive is, the intention. the purpose, that lies behind this search. I think in discovering what it is that we are seeking, and why we are seeking, we may be able to discover, each one of us, how to go very deeply into ourselves. Most of us. I feel, are very superficial, we just remain struggling on the surface, not being able to go beyond the mere superficial responses of pleasure and pain. If we are able to go beyond the surface, then we may be able to find out for ourselves that our very search may be a hindrance. What is it that we are seeking? Most of us are unhappy, or we are frustrated, or some desire is urging us to move forwards. For most of us I think the search is based on some kind of frustration, some kind of misery. We want to fulfil, in some form or another, at different levels of our existence. And when we find we cannot fulfil, then there is frustration, - in relationship, in action, and in every form of our emotional existence. Being frustrated, we seek ways and means to escape from that frustration; and so we move from one hindrance to another, from one blockage to another, always trying to find a way to fulfil, to be happy. So our search, - though we may say we are seeking truth, or God, or what you will, - is really a form of self-fulfilment. Therefore it invariably remains very superficial. I think it is important to understand this profoundly. Because I do not think we will find anything of great significance unless we are capable of going very deeply into ourselves. We cannot go very deeply into ourselves if our search is merely the outcome of some frustration, the desire for an answer which will bring about a superficial response of happiness. So I think it is worthwhile to find out what it is that each one of us wants, seeks, gropes after. Because on that depends what we find. And if there is no frustration, no misery, only a sense of finding a haven where the mind can rest, where the mind can find a refuge from all disturbance, then also such a search will inevitably lead to something superficial, passing, and trivial. Now is it possible for us, for each one of us, to find out what it is that we are seeking, and why we seek? In the process of our search we acquire knowledge, gather experience, do we not?, and according to that gathering, that accumulation, our experiences are shaped. Those experiences then in turn become our guide. But all such experience is essentially based on our desire to be secure, in some form or another, in this world or in an imaginary world or in the world of heaven; because our mind demands, seeks, searches out, a place where it will not be disturbed. In the process of this seeking there is frustration; and with frustration there is sorrow. Now, is there ever any security for the mind? We may seek it. we may grope after it; we may build a culture, a society, which assures physical security at least, and we may thereby find some kind of security in things, in property, in ideas, in relationship; but, is there such a thing as security for the mind, a state of mind in which there will be no disturbance of any kind? And, is that not what most of us are seeking, in devious ways, giving it different terms, different words? Surely, a mind that is seeking security must always invite frustration. We have never inquired, most of us, whether there can be security for the mind, a state in which there is no disturbance of any kind. And yet, if we look deeply into ourselves, that is what most of us want; and we seek to create that security for ourselves in various forms, - in beliefs. in ideals, in our attachments and our relationship with people, with property, with family, and so on. Now, is there any security, any permanency, in the things of the mind? The mind, after all. is the result of time, of centuries of education, of moulding, of change. The mind is the result of time, and therefore a plaything of time, - and can such a mind ever find a state of permanency? Or, must the mind always be in a state of impermanency? I think it is important to go into this and to understand that most of us are seeking, not knowing what we want. The motive of the search is far more important than that which we are seeking; for if that motive is for security, a sense of permanency, then the mind creates its own hindrances, from which arise frustration and therefore sorrow and suffering. Then we seek further escapes, further means of avoiding pain; and so, invite more sorrow. That is our state; that is the complex existence of our everyday life. Whereas, if we could remain with ourselves, if we could look to find out what the motive is of our search, of our struggle, then perhaps we would find the right answer. It is like accumulating knowledge, - knowledge may give a certain security, but a man who is filled with knowledge obviously cannot find that which is beyond the mind. So, is it not important to find out what it is that we are seeking, and why we seek, and also to inquire whether there can be an end to all seeking? Because, search implies effort, does it not? - the constant inquiry, the constant struggle to find. Can one find anything through effort? By `anything' I mean, something more than the mere reactions of the mind, the mere responses of the mind, something other than the things that the mind itself has created and projected. Is it not important for each one of us to inquire if there is ever an end to search? Because, the more we search, the greater the strain, the effort, the dilemma of not finding, and the frustration. Please let us consider this carefully. Do not let us say "What will happen to us if there is no seeking?" Surely, if we seek with a motive, then the result of that search will be dictated by the motive; and so it will be limited; and from that limitation there is always frustration and sorrow, and in that we are all caught. So, is there existence without seeking? Is there a state of being without this constant becoming? The becoming is the struggle, the conflict; and that is our life. Is it not important for each one of us to find out whether there is a state in which this process of constant strife, constant conflict within ourselves, the contradictions, the opposing desires, the frustrations, the misery, can come to an end? - but not through some form of an invention or an image of the mind. That is why it is so important to have self-knowledge, - not the knowledge that one learns from books, from the hearsay of another, or from listening to a few talks, but to be constantly aware, just to observe, without choice, what is actually going on within the mind, observing all the reactions, to be alert in our relationships, so that all the ways of our search, of our motives, of our fears, of our frustrations, are revealed. Because, if we do not know the origin of our thinking, the motive of our action, what the unconscious drive is, then all our thinking must inevitably be superficial and without very great significance. You may have superficial values; you may mouth that you believe in God, that you are seeking truth, and all the rest of it; but without knowing the inward nature of your own mind, the motive, the pursuit, the unconscious drive, - which is all revealed as one observes oneself in the mirror of relationship, - there is only sorrow and pain. And I think that process of observation is seriousness. It is not giving oneself up to any particular idea, to any belief, to any dogma, or being caught in some idiosyncrasy; that is not seriousness. To be serious implies the awareness of the content of one's own mind, - just to observe it, without trying to distort it, - as when one sees one's face in the mirror; it is what it is. So, likewise, if we can observe our thoughts, our feelings, our whole being, in the mirror of relationship, of everyday activity, then we will find that there is no frustration of any kind. So long as we are seeking fulfilment in any form, there must be frustration. Because fulfilment implies the pursuit and the exaggeration of the self, the `me; and the `me', the self, is the very cause of sorrow. To understand the whole content of that `me', the self, all the layers of its consciousness, with its accumulations of knowledge, of likes and dislikes, - to be aware of all that, without judgment, without condemnation, is to be really serious. That seriousness is the instrument with which the mind can go beyond the limitations of itself. After all, we want to find, do we not?, a sense of something greater than the mere inventions of the mind, something which is beyond the mind, something which is not a mere projection. If we can understand the mind, - the mind which is in me and in you, with all its subtleties, its deceptions, its various forms of urges, - in that very understanding there is an ending of its binding activities. It is only when the mind no longer has any motive that it is possible for it to be still. In that stillness, a reality which is not the creation of the mind comes into being. Question: A man fully occupied is kept busy day and night in his own subconsciousness with practical problems which have to be solved. Your vision can only be realized in the stillness of self-awareness. There is hardly any time for stillness; the immediate is too urgent. Can you give any practical suggestion? Krishnamurti: Sir, what do we mean by "practical suggestion"? Something that you should do immediately? Some system that you should practise in order to produce a stillness of the mind? After all, if you practise a system, that system will produce a result; but it will only be the result of the system, and not your own discovery, not that which you find in being aware of yourself in your contacts in daily life. A system obviously produces its own result. However much you may practise it, for whatever length of time, the result will always be dictated by the system, the method. It will not be a discovery; it will be a thing imposed on the mind through its desire to find a way out of this chaotic, sorrowful world. So what is one to do when one is so busy, occupied night and day, as most people are, with earning a livelihood? First of all, is one occupied the whole of the time with business, with a livelihood? Or, does one have periods during the day when you are not so occupied? I think those periods when you are not so occupied are far more important than the periods with which you are occupied. It is very important, is it not?, to find out what the mind is occupied with. If it is occupied, consciously occupied, with business affairs all the time, - which is really impossible, - then there is obviously no space, no quietness, in which to find anything new. Fortunately, most of us are not occupied entirely with our business, and there are moments when we can probe into ourselves, be aware. I think those periods are far more significant than our periods of occupation; and if we allow it, those moments will begin to shape, to control, our business activities, our daily life. After all, the conscious mind, the mind that is so occupied, obviously has no time for any deeper thought. But the conscious mind is not the whole entirety of the mind; there is also the unconscious part. And, can the conscious mind delve into the unconscious? That is, can the conscious mind, the mind that wants to inquire, to analyze, - can that probe into the unconscious? Or, must the conscious mind be still, in order for the unconscious to give its hints, its intimations? Is the unconscious so very different from the conscious? Or, is the totality of the mind the conscious as well as the unconscious? The totality of the mind, as we know it, conscious and unconscious, is educat- ed, is conditioned, with all the various impositions of culture, tradition and memory. And perhaps the answer to all our problems is not within the field of the mind at all; it may be outside it. To find that which is the true answer to all the complex problems of our existence, of our daily struggle, surely the mind, the conscious as well as the unconscious, must be totally still, must it not? And the questioner wants to know, when he is so busy, what shall he do? Surely he is not so busy, - surely he does amuse himself occasionally? If he begins to give some time during the day, five minutes, ten minutes, half-an-hour, in order to reflect upon these matters, then that very reflection brings longer periods in which he will have time to think, to delve. So I do not think mere superficial occupation of the mind has much significance. There is something far more important, - which is, to find out the operation of the mind, the ways of our own thinking, the motives, the urges, the memories, the traditions, in which the mind is caught. And we can do that while we are earning our livelihood, -so that we become fully conscious of ourselves and our peculiarities. Then I think it is possible for the mind to be really quiet, and so to find that which is beyond its own projections. Question: All my life I have been dependent for happiness on some other person or persons. How can I develop the capacity to live with myself and stand alone? Krishnamurti: Why do we depend on another for our happiness? Is it because in ourselves we are empty, and we look to another to fill that emptiness? And, is that emptiness, that loneliness, that sense of extraordinary limitation, to be overcome by any capacity? If it is to be overcome, that emptiness, through any system or capacity or idea, then you will depend on that idea or on that system. Now, I depend perhaps on a person. I feel empty, lonely, -a complete sense of isolation, - and I depend on somebody. And if I develop or have a method which will help me to overcome that dependence, then I depend on that method. I have only substituted a method for a person. So, what is important in this is to find out what it means to be empty. After all, we depend on someone for our happiness because in ourselves we are not happy. I do not know what it is to love, therefore I depend on another to love me. Now, can I fathom this emptiness in myself, this sense of complete isolation, loneliness? Do we ever come face to face with it at all? Or, are we always frightened of it, always running away from it? The very process of running away from that loneliness, is dependence. So can my mind realize the truth that any form of running away from "what is' creates dependence, from which arises misfortune and sorrow? Can I just understand that, - that I depend on another for my happiness because in myself I am empty? That is the fact, - I am empty, and therefore I depend. That dependence causes misery. Running away in any form from that emptiness is not a solution at all, - whether we run away through a person, an idea, a belief, or God, or meditation, or what you will. To run away from the fact of `what is', is of no avail. In oneself there is insufficiency, poverty of being. Just to realize that fact, and to remain with that fact, - knowing that any movement of the mind to alter the fact is another form of dependence, - in that there is freedom. After all, however much you may have of experience, knowledge, belief, and ideas, in itself, if you observe, the mind is empty. You may stuff it with ideas, with incessant activity, with distractions, with every form of addiction; but the moment you cease any form of that activity, one is aware that the mind is totally empty. Now, can one remain with that emptiness? Can the mind face that emptiness, that fact, and remain with that fact? It is very difficult and arduous, because the mind is so used to distraction, so trained to go away from `what is', to turn on the radio, to pick up a book, to talk, to go to church, to go to a meeting, - anything to enable it to wander away from the central fact that the mind in itself is empty. However much it may struggle to cover up that fact, it is empty in itself. When once it realizes that fact, can the mind remain in that state, without any movement whatsoever? I think most of us are aware, - perhaps only rarely, since most of us are so terribly occupied and active, - but I think we are aware sometimes that the mind is empty. And, being aware, we are afraid of that emptiness. We have never inquired into that state of emptiness, we have never gone into it deeply, profoundly; we are afraid, and so we wander away from it. We have given it a name, we say it is `empty', it is `terrible', it is `painful; and that very giving it a name has already created a reaction in the mind, a fear, an avoidance, a running away. Now, can the mind stop running away, and not give it a name, not give it the significance of a word such as `empty' about which we have memories of pleasure and pain? Can we look at it, can the mind be aware of that emptiness, without naming it, without running away from it, without judging it, but just be with it? Because, then that is the mind. Then there is not an observer looking at it; there is no censor who condemns it; there is only that state of emptiness, - with which we are all really quite familiar, but which we are all avoiding, trying to fill it with activity, with worship, with prayer, with knowledge, with every form of illusion and excitement. But when all the excitement, illusion, fear, running away, stops, and you are no longer giving it a name and thereby condemning it, is the observer different then from the thing which is observed? Surely by giving it a name, by condemning it, the mind has created a censor, an observer, outside of itself. But when the mind does not give it a term, a name, condemn it, judge it, then there is no observer, only a state of that thing we have called `emptiness'. Perhaps this may sound abstract. But if you will kindly follow what has been said, I am sure you will find that there is a state which may be called emptiness but which does not evoke fear, escape, or the attempt to cover it up. All that stops. when you really want to find out. Then, if the mind is no longer giving it a name, condemning it, is there emptiness? Are we then conscious of being poor and therefore dependent, of being unhappy and therefore demanding, attached? If you are no longer giving it a label, a name, and thereby condemning it, - the state which is perceived, is it any longer emptiness, or is it something totally different? If you can go into this very earnestly you will find that there is no dependence at all, on anything, - on any person, on any belief, on any experience, any tradition. Then, that which is beyond emptiness is creativeness, - the creativity of reality; not the creativity of a talent or capacity, but the creativity of that which is beyond fear, beyond all demand, beyond all the tricks of the mind. Question: Will evolution help us to find God? Krishnamurti:I do not know what you mean by evolution, and what you mean by God. I think this is a fairly important question to go into, because most of us think in terms of time, - time being the distance, the interval, between what I am and what I should be, the ideal. What I am is unpleasant, something to be changed, to be moulded into something which it is not. And to shape it, to give it respectability, to give it beauty, I need time. That is, I am cruel, greedy, or what you will, and I need time to transform that into the ideal, - the ideal may be called what you will, that is not of great importance. So, we are always thinking in terms of time. And the questioner wants to know, if through time, that which is beyond time can be realized. We do not know what is beyond time. We are slaves to time; our whole mind thinks in terms of yesterday, today, or tomorrow. And being caught in that, the questioner wants to know if the I can be reached through the process of time. There is obviously some form of evolution, growth, - from the simple car to the jet-plane, from the oil-lamp to electricity, the acquiring of more knowledge, more technique, developing and exploiting the earth, and so on. Obviously technologically there is progress, evolution, growth. But, is there a growth or evolution beyond that? Is there something in the mind which is beyond time, - the spirit, the soul, or whatever you like to call it? That which is capable of growth, of evolving, becoming, obviously is not part of the eternal, of something which is beyond time; it is still in time. If the soul, the spiritual entity, is capable of growth, than it is still the invention of the mind. If it is not the invention of the mind, it is of no time, therefore we need not bother about it. What we do have to be concerned with is, whether through time the inward nature, the inward being, changes at all. The mind is obviously the result of time; your mind and my mind are the result of a series of educations, experiences, cultures, a variety of thoughts, impressions, strains, stresses, all of which has made us what we are now. And with that mind we are trying to find out something which is beyond time. But surely God, or truth, or whatever it is, must be totally new, must be something inconceivable, unknowable by the mind which is the result of time. So, can that mind which is the result of time, of tradition, of memory, of culture, - can that mind come to an end? - voluntarily, not by being drilled, not by being put into a straight-jacket. Can the mind, which is the result of time, bring about its own end? After all, what is the mind? Thought, the capacity to think. And thinking is the reaction of memory, of association, of the various values, beliefs, traditions, experiences, conscious or unconscious; that is the background from which all thought springs. Can one be really aware of all that, and thereby enable thought to come to an end? Because thought is the result of time; and thinking obviously cannot bring about or reveal that which is beyond itself. Surely, only when the mind, as thought, as memory, comes to an end, only when it is completely, utterly still, without any movement, - then alone is it possible for that which is beyond the responses of the mind to come into being. May 23, 1955. AMSTERDAM 5TH PUBLIC TALK 26TH MAY 1955 Perhaps you would kindly listen to rather a difficult problem with which I am sure most of us are concerned. It is a problem we are all confronted with, - the problem of change; and I feel one must go into it rather fully to understand it comprehensively. We see that there must be change. And we see that change implies various forms of exertion of will, effort. In it is also involved the question of what it is we are changing from and what it is we want to change to. It seems to me that one must go into it rather deeply and not merely be contented with a superficial answer. Because the thing that is involved in it is quite significant, and requires a certain form of attention, which I hope you will give. For most of us it is very important to change; we feel it is necessary for us to change. We are dissatisfied as we are, - at least, most of the people are who are at all serious and thoughtful, - and we want to change, we see the necessity of change. But I do not think we see the whole significance of it, and I would like to discuss that matter with you. If I may suggest it, please listen, not with any definite conclusion, not expecting a definite answer, but so that by going into the matter together, we may understand the problem comprehensively. Every form of effort that we make in order to bring about a change implies, does it not?, the following of a certain pattern, a certain idea-l, the exertion of will, a desire to be achieved. We change, either through circumstances, forced by environment, through necessity, or we discipline ourselves to change according to an ideal. Those are the forms of change that we are aware of, -either through circumstances, which compel us to modify, to adjust, to conform to a certain pattern, social, religious, or family, or, we discipline ourselves according to an ideal. In that discipline there is a conformity, the effort to conform to a certain pattern of thought, to achieve a certain ideal. The change that is brought about through the exertion of will, -with this process we are most of us familiar. We all know of this change through compulsion, change through fear, change made necessary by suffering. It is a modification, a constant struggle in order to conform to a certain pattern which we have established for ourselves, or which society has given us. That is what we call `change; and in that we are caught. But, is it change? I think it important to understand this, to somewhat analyse it, to go into the anatomy of change, to understand what makes us want to change. Because all this implies, does it not?, either conscious or unconscious conformity, conscious or unconscious yielding to a certain pattern, through necessity, through expediency. And we are content to continue in modified change, which is merely an outward adjustment, putting on, as it were, a new coat of a different colour, but inwardly remaining static. So I would like to talk it over, to find out if that effort really brings about a real change in us. Our problem is, how to bring about an inward revolution which does not necessitate mere conformity to a pattern, or an adjustment through fear, or making great effort, through the exertion of the will, to be something. That is our problem, isn't it? We all want to change, we see the necessity of it, unless we are totally blind and completely conservative, refusing to break the pattern of our existence. Surely most of us who are at all serious are concerned with this - how to bring about in ourselves and thereby in the world a radical to a change, a radical transformation. After all, we are not any different from the rest of the world. Our problem is the world problem. What we are, of that we make the world. So, if as individuals we can understand this question of effort and change, then perhaps we shall be able to understand if it is possible to bring about a radical change in which there is no exertion of will. I hope the problem is clear. That is, we know that change is necessary. But into what must we change? And how is that change to be brought about? We know that the change which we generally think is necessary is always brought about through the exertion of will. I am `this', and I must change into something else. The `something else' is already thought out, it is projected, - it is an end to be desired, an ideal which must be fulfilled. Surely that is our way of thinking about change? - as a constant adjustment, either voluntarily, or through suffering, or through the exertion of will. That implies, does it not?, a constant effort, the reaction of a certain desire, of a certain conditioning. And so the change is merely a modified continuity of what has been. Let us go into it. I am something, and I want to change. So I choose an ideal, and according to that ideal I try to transform myself, I exert my will, I discipline, I force myself; and there is a constant battle going on between what I am and what I should be. With that we are all familiar. And the ideal, what I think I should be, - is it not merely the opposite of what I am? Is it not merely the reaction of what I am? I am angry, and I project the ideal of peace, of love, and I try to conform myself to the ideal of love, to the ideal of peace; and so there is a constant struggle. But the ideal is not the real: it is my projection of what I would like to be, - it is the outcome of my pain, my suffering, my background. So the ideal has no significance at all; it is merely the result of my desire to be something which I am not. I am merely struggling to achieve something which I would like to be; so it is still within the pattern of self-enclosing action. That is so, is it not? I am `this', and I would like to be `that; but the struggle to be something different is still within the pattern of my desire. So, is not all our talk about the necessity of change very superficial, unless we first uncover the deep process of our thinking? So long as I have a motive for change, is there a real change? My motive is, to change myself from anger into a state of peace. Because I find that a state of peace is much more suitable, much more convenient, more happy, therefore I struggle to achieve that. But it is still within the pattern of my own desire, and so there is no change at all, - I have only gathered a different word, `peace' instead of `anger', but essentially I am still the same. So, the problem is, is it not?, how to bring about a change at the centre, -and not to continue this constant adjustment to a pattern, to an idea, through fear, through compulsion, through environmental influence. Is it not possible to bring about a radical change at the very centre itself? If there is a change there, then naturally any form of adjustment becomes unnecessary. Compulsion, effort, a disciplining process according to an ideal, is then seen as totally unnecessary and false, - because all those imply a constant struggle, a constant battle between myself and what I should be. Now, is it possible to bring about a change at the centre? - the centre being the self, the `me' that is always acquiring, always trying to conform, trying to adjust, but remaining essentially the same. I hope I am making the problem clear. Any conscious deliberate effort to change is merely the continuity, in a modified form, of what has been, is it not? I am greedy; and if I deliberately, consciously set about to change that quality into non-greed, is not that very effort to be non-greedy still the product of the self, the `me'? - and therefore there is no radical change at all. When I consciously make an effort to be non-greedy, then that conscious effort is the result of another form of greed, surely. Yet on that principle all our disciplines, all our attempts to change, are based. We are either consciously changing, or submitting to the pattern of society, or being pushed by society to conform, - all of which are various forms of deliberate effort on our part to be something or other. So, where there is conscious effort to change, obviously the change is merely the conformity to another pattern; it is still within the enclosing process of the self, and therefore it is not a change at all. So can I see the truth of that, can I realize, understand, the full significance of the fact that any conscious effort on my part to be something other than what I am only produces still further suffering, sorrow and pain? Then follows the question: is it possible to bring about a change at the centre, without the conscious effort to change? Is it possible for me, without effort, without the exertion of will, to stop being greedy, acquisitive, envious, angry, what you will? If I change consciously, if my mind is occupied with greed and I try to change it into non-greed, obviously that is still a form of greed, - because my mind is concerned, occupied, with being something. So, is it possible for me to change at the centre this whole process of acquisitiveness, without any conscious action on the part of my mind to be non-acquisitive? So, our problem is, being what I am, - acquisitive, - how is that to be transformed? I feel I understand very well that any exertion on my part to change is part of a self-conscious endeavour to be non-greedy, non-acquisitive, - which is still acquisitiveness. So what is to be done? How is the change at the centre to be brought about? If I understand the truth that all conscious effort is another form of acquisitiveness, if I really understand that, if I fully grasp the significance of it, then I will cease to make any conscious effort, will I not? Consciously I will stop exercising my will to change my acquisitiveness. That is the first thing. Because I see that any conscious effort, any action of will, is another form of acquisitiveness, therefore, understanding completely, there is the cessation of any deliberate practice to achieve the non-acquisitive state. If I have understood that, what happens? If my mind is no longer struggling to change acquisitiveness, either through compulsion, through fear, through moral sanctions, through religious threats, through social laws and all the rest of it, then, what happens to my mind? How do I then look at greed? I hope you are following this, because it is very interesting to see how the mind works. When we think we are changing, trying to adjust, trying to conform, disciplining ourselves to an ideal; actually there is no change at all. That is a tremendous discovery; that is a great revelation. A mind occupied with non-acquisitiveness is an acquisitive mind. Before, it was occupied with being acquisitive, now it is occupied with non-acquisitiveness. It is still occupied; so, the very occupation is acquisitiveness. Now, is it possible for the mind to be non-occupied? I hope you are following this, because, you see, all our minds are occupied, -occupied with something, occupied with God, with virtue, with what people say or don't be say, whether someone loves you or doesn't love you. Always the mind is occupied. It was occupied before with acquisitiveness, and now it is occupied with non-acquisitiveness; but it's still occupied. So, the problem is really, "Can the mind be unoccupied?" Because if it is not occupied, then it can tackle the problem or acquisitiveness, and not merely try to change it into non-acquisitiveness. Can the mind which has been occupied with acquisitiveness, can it, without turning to non-acquisitiveness, - which is another occupation of the mind, - put an end to all occupation? Surely it can, but only when it sees the truth that acquisitiveness and non-acquisitiveness are the same state of occupation. So long as the mind is occupied with something, obviously there cannot be a change. Whether it is occupied with God, with virtue, with dress, with love, with cruelty to animals, with the radio, - they're all the same. There is no higher occupation or lower occupation; all occupation is essentially the same. The mind, being occupied, escapes from itself; it escapes through greed, it escapes through non-greed. So can the mind, seeing all this complex process, put an end to its own occupation?' I think that is the whole problem. Because, when the mind is not occupied, then it is fresh, it is clear, it is capable of meeting any problem anew. When it is not occupied, then, being fresh, it can tackle acquisitiveness with a totally different action. So our question, our inquiry, our exploration, then is, - can the mind be unoccupied? Please do not jump to conclusions. Do not say it must then be vague, blank, lost. We are inquiring, therefore there can be no conclusion, no definite statement, no supposition, no theory, no speculation. Can the mind be unoccupied? If you say "How am I to achieve a state of mind in which there is no occupation?", then that "how to achieve" becomes another occupation. Please see the simplicity of it, and therefore the truth of the whole matter. It is very important for you to find out how you are listening to this, how you are listening to these statements. They are merely statements, which you should neither accept nor reject; they are simply facts. How are you listening to the fact? Do you condemn it? Do you say it is impossible? Do you say "I don't understand what you are talking about, it's too difficult, too abstract"? Or, are you listening to find out the truth of the matter? To see the truth without any distortion, without translating the fact into your own particular terminology or your own fancy, - just to see clearly, just to be fully conscious of what is being said, is sufficient, Then you will find that your mind-is no longer occupied, therefore it is fresh, and so capable of meeting the problem of change entirely, totally differently. Whether change is brought about consciously or unconsciously it is still the same. Conscious change implies effort; and unconscious endeavour to bring about a change also implies an effort, a struggle. So long as there is a struggle, conflict, the change is merely enforced, and there is no understanding; and therefore it is no longer a change at all. So, is the mind capable of meeting the problem of change, - of acquisitiveness, for example, - without making an effort, just seeing the whole implication of acquisitiveness? Because you cannot see the whole content of acquisitiveness totally so long as there is any endeavour to change it. Real change can only take place when the mind comes to the problem afresh, not with all the jaded memories of a thousand yesterdays. Obviously you cannot have a fresh, eager mind if the mind is occupied. And the mind ceases to be occupied only when it sees the truth about its own occupation. You cannot see the truth if you are not giving your whole attention, if you are translating what is being said into something which will suit you, or translating it into your own terms. You must come to something new with a fresh mind, and a mind is not fresh when it is occupied, consciously or unconsciously. This transformation really takes place when the mind understands the whole process of itself; therefore self-knowledge is essential, - not self-knowledge according to some psychologist or some book, but the self-knowledge that you discover from moment to moment. That self-knowledge is not to be gathered up and put into the mind as memory, because if you have gathered it, stored it up, any new experience will be translated according to that old memory. So self-knowledge is a state in which everything is observed, experienced, understood, and put away, - not put away in memory, but cast aside, so that the mind is all the time fresh, eager. Question: The world in which we live is confused, and I too am confused. How am I to be free of this confusion? Krishnamurti: It is one of the most difficult things to know for oneself, not merely superficially but actually, that one is confused. One will never admit that. We are always hoping there may be some clarity, some loophole through which there will come understanding; so we never admit to ourselves that we are actually confused. We never admit that we are acquisitive, that we are angry, that we are this or that; there are always excuses, always explanations. But to know really "I am confused", - that is one of the most important things to acknowledge to oneself. Are we not all confused? If you were very clear, if you knew what is true, you wouldn't be here; you wouldn't be chasing teachers, cal classes, going to churches, pursuing the priest, the confusion, and all the rest of it. To know for oneself that one is confused is really an extraordinarily difficult thing. That is the first thing, - to know that one is confused. Now, what happens when one is confused? Any endeavour, - please follow this, - any endeavour to become non-confused is still confusion. (Murmur of amusement). Please, listen quietly, and you will see. When a confused mind makes an effort to be non-confused, that very effort is the outcome of confusion, is it not? Therefore whatever it does, whatever pursuit, whatever activity, whatever religion, whatever book it picks up, it is still in a state of confusion, therefore it cannot possibly understand. Its leaders, its priests, its religions, its relation, ships, must all be confused. That is what is happening in the world, is it not? You have chosen your political leaders, your religious leaders, out of your confusion. If we understand that any action arising out of confusion is still confused, then, first we must stop all action, - which most of us are unwilling to do. The confused mind in action only creates more confusion. You may laugh, you may smile, but you really do not feel that you are confused and that therefore you must stop acting. Surely, that is the first thing. If I have lost myself in a wood, I don't go round chasing all over the place, I just stop still. If I am confused I don't pursue a guide, keep asking someone how to get out of confusion. Because any answer he gives, and I receive, will be translated according to my confusion, therefore it will be no answer at all. I think ,it is most difficult to realize that whenever one is confused, one must stop all activity, psychologically. I am not talking of outward activity, going to business and all the rest of it, - but inwardly, psychologically, one must see the necessity of putting an end to all search, to all pursuits, to all desire to change. It is only when the confused mind abstains from any movement, that out of that stopping comes clarity. But it is very difficult for the mind, when it is confused, not to seek, not to ask, not to pray, not to escape, - just to remain in confusion, and inquire what it is, why one is confused. Only then will one find out how confusion arises. Confusion arises when I do not understand myself, when my thoughts are guided by the priests, by the politicians, by the newspapers, by every psychological book that one reads. Contradiction, - in myself and in the people I am trying to follow, - arises when there is imitation, when there is fear. So it is important, if we would clear up confusion, to understand the process of confusion within oneself. For that, there must be the stopping of all pursuits, psychologically. It is only then that the mind, through its own understanding of itself, brings about clarity, so that it is aware of the whole process of its own thoughts and motives. Such a mind becomes very clear, simple, direct. Question: Will you please explain what you mean by awareness. Krishnamurti: Just simple awareness! Awareness of your judgments, your prejudices, your likes and dislikes. When you see something, that seeing is the outcome of your comparison, condemnation, judgment, evaluation, is it not? When you read something you are judging, you are criticizing, you are condemning or approving. To be aware is to see, in the very moment, this whole process of judging, evaluating, the conclusions, the conformity, the acceptances, the denials. Now, can one be aware without all that? At present all we know is a process of evaluating, and that evaluation is the outcome of our conditioning, of our background, of our religious, moral and educational influences. Such so-called awareness is the result of our memory, - memory as the `me', the Dutchman. the Hindu, the Buddhist. the Catholic, or whatever it may be. It is the `me', - my memories, my family, my property, my qualities, - which is looking judging, evaluating. With that we are quite familiar, if we are at all alert. Now, can there be awareness without all that, without the self? Is it possible just to look without condemnation, just to observe the movement of the mind, one's own mind, without judging, without evaluating, without saying "It is good", or "It is bad"? The awareness which springs from the self, which is the awareness of evaluation and judgment, always creates duality, the conflict of the opposites, - that which is and that which should be. In that awareness there is judgment, there is fear, there is evaluation, condemnation, identification. That is but the awareness of the `me', of the self, of the `I' with all its traditions. memories, and all the rest of it. Such awareness always creates conflict between the observer and the observed, between what I am and what I should be. Now. is it possible to be aware without this process of condemnation, judgment, evaluation? Is it possible to look at myself, whatever my thoughts are, and not condemn, not judge, not evaluate? I do not know if you have ever tried it. It is quite arduous, - because all our training from childhood leads us to condemn or to approve. And in the process of condemnation and approval there is frustration, there is fear, there is a gnawing pain, anxiety, which is the very process of the `me', the self. So, knowing all that, can the mind, without effort, without trying not to condemn, - because the moment it says "I mustn't condemn" it is already caught in the process of condemnation, - can the mind be aware without judgment? Can it just watch, with dispassion, and so observe the very thoughts and feelings themselves in the mirror of relationship, - relationship with things, with people and with ideas? Such silent observation does not breed aloofness, an icy intellectualism, - on the contrary. If I would understand something, obviously there must be no condemnation, there must be no comparison, - surely, that is simple. But we think understanding comes through comparison; so, we multiply comparisons. Our education is comparative; and our whole moral, religious structure is to compare and condemn. So, the awareness of which I am speaking is the awareness of the whole process of condemnation, and the ending of it. In that there is observation without any judgment, - which is extremely difficult; it implies the cessation, the ending, of all terming, naming. When I am aware that I am greedy, acquisitive, angry, passionate, or what you will, is it not possible just to observe`it, to be aware of it, without condemning? - which means, putting an end to the very naming of the feeling. For when I give a name, such as `greed', that very naming is the process of condemning. To us, neurologically, the very word `greed' is already a condemnation. To free the mind from all condemnation means putting an end to all naming. After all, the naming is the process of the thinker. It is the thinker separating himself from thought, - which is a totally artificial process, it is unreal. There is only thinking, there is no thinker; there is only a state of experiencing, not the entity who experiences. So, this whole process of awareness, observation, is the process of meditation. It is, if I can put it differently, the willingness to invite thought. For most of us, thoughts come in without invitation, - one thought after another: there is no end to thinking; the mind is a slave to every kind of vagrant thought. If you realize that, then you will see that there can be an invitation to thought, - an inviting of thought and then a pursuing of every thought that arises. For most of us, thought comes uninvited; it comes any old way. To understand that process, and then to invite thought and pursue that thought through to the end, is the whole process which I have described as awareness; and in that there is no naming. Then you will see that the mind becomes extraordinarily quiet, - not through fatigue, not through discipline, not through any form of self-torture and control. Through awareness of its own activities the mind becomes astonishingly quiet, still, creative, - without the action of any discipline, or any enforcement. Then, in that stillness of mind, comes that which is true, without invitation. You cannot invite truth, it is the unknown. And in that silence there is no experiencer. Therefore that which is experienced is not stored, is not remembered as `my experience of truth'. Then something which is timeless comes into being, - that which cannot be measured by the one who has not experienced, or who merely remembers a past experience. Truth is something which comes from moment to moment. It is not to be cultivated, not to be gathered, stored up and held in memory. It comes only when there is an awareness in which there is no experiencer. May 26, 1955. LONDON 1ST PUBLIC TALK 17TH JUNE 1955 Though we have many problems, and each problem seems to produce so many other problems, perhaps we can consider together whether the wisest thing to do is, not to seek the solution of any problem at all. It seems to me that our minds are incapable of dealing with life as a whole; we deal, apparently, with all problems fragmentarily, separately, not with an integrated outlook. Perhaps the first thing, if we have problems, is not to seek an immediate solution for them, but to have the patience to inquire deeply into them, and discover whether these problems can ever be solved by the exercise of will. What is important, I think, is to find out, not how to solve the problem, but how to approach it. Because, without freedom, every approach must be restricted; without freedom every solution, - economic, political, personal, or whatever it be, - can only bring more misery, more confusion. So I feel it is important to find out what is true freedom: to discover for oneself what freedom is. There is only one freedom, - religious freedom; there is no other freedom. The freedom that the so-called Welfare State brings, the economic, national, political, and various other forms of freedom that one is given. surely are not freedom at all, but only lead to further chaos and further misery, - which is obvious to anyone who observes. So I think we should spend all our time, energy and thought, in inquiring as to what is religious freedom, - whether there is such a thing. That inquiry requires a great deal of insight, energy, and perseverance if we are to carry the investigation right through to the end and not be turned aside by any attraction. I think it would be worthwhile if we could all of us concentrate on this problem, - what it is to be religiously free. Is it possible to free the mind, - that is, our own minds, the individual mind, - from the tyranny of all churches, from all organized beliefs, all dogmas, all systems of philosophy, all the various practices of Yoga, all preconceptions of what reality or God is, and, by putting these aside, thereby discover for oneself if there is a religious freedom? For surely, religious freedom alone can offer, ultimately and fundamentally, the solution to all our problems, individual as well as collective. This means, really, can the mind uncondition itself? Because the mind, our own mind, is, after all, the result of time, of growth, of tradition, of vast experience, - not only experience in the present, but the collective experience of the past. So the question is not how to ennoble our conditioning, how to better it, - which most of us are attempting to do, - but rather, to free the mind entirely from all conditioning. It seems to me that the real issue is not what religion to belong to, what system or philosophy to accept, or what discipline to practise in order to realize something which is beyond the mind, - if there is something beyond the mind, - but, rather, to find out, to discover for oneself by our own individual understanding, investigation and self-knowledge, whether the mind can be free. That is the greatest, the only revolution, - to free the mind from all conditioning. After all, to find something which is eternal, - if there is such a thing, - the mind must not think in terms of time; there must be no accumulation of the past, for that breeds time. The very experiences that one gathers must be shed, because they manufacture, they build up, time. Surely, our mind is the result of time, it is conditioned by the past, by the innumerable experiences, memories, which we have gathered and which give to us a continuity. So, can one be really free, religiously, - in the deepest sense of that word `religion'? Because religion obviously is not the rituals, the dogmas, the social morality, going to church every Sunday, practising virtue, the good behaviour which leads to respectability, - surely all that is not religion. Religion is something much more, something utterly different from all that. If one would find what it is to be religiously free, I think the whole problem of will, desire, with its intentions, its pursuits, its purposes, its innumerable projections, - in all of which the mind is caught, - must be understood. So it seems to me that our problems, whatever they are, can be dissolved totally only by burning away the process of will, - which may sound completely foreign to a Western mind, and even to the Eastern mind. Because, after all, the so-called religion that we generally accept is essentially based on the process of becoming, is it not? - of ultimately reaching a certain state, which is either projected or invented. We may experience a new state at rare moments, but then we pursue those rare moments, - which also implies, does it not?, the cultivation of the will to be, to become something, - in which is the process of time. If the mind would seek something which is beyond time, beyond the limitations of our own experience which is essentially based on the conditioning of action, thought, feeling, - if we would find something beyond all that, surely our mind, which is made up of so many pursuits and desires, must come to an end. Which means really, does it not?, the understanding of the whole process of the mind as being conditioned. After all, a mind that is conditioned, shaped, moulded in the particular culture of any form of society, obviously cannot find that which is beyond all thinking. And the discovery of finding that which is beyond, is the revolution, the true religion. So what is significant is not, whether you are a Christian, a Buddhist, a Hindu, whether you are a follower, changing from one religion to another to satisfy your particular vanity, accepting certain forms of rituals and discarding the old ones, - you know the sensations that one gets from attending religious ceremonies, - all this, it seems to me, is detrimental, completely useless for a mind that would find out what is true. But to relinquish this pursuit through the action of will surely only breeds further conditioning, and I think it is important to understand this. Because we are used to exerting effort to achieve a result. That is why we practise; we practise certain virtues, pursue a certain form of morality; and all this indicates, does it not?, an effort on our part to arrive somewhere. I wish we could really think about this, discuss it, investigate it together, - how to really free the mind from all conditioning, and whether it is possible to uncondition the mind either through the action of will, or through analysis of the various processes of thought and their reactions, or whether there is a totally different way of looking at this, whereby there is merely an awareness which burns away all the processes of thought at the very root. All thinking obviously is conditioned; there is no such thing as free thinking. Thinking can never be free, it is the outcome of our conditioning, of our background, of our culture, of our climate, of our social, economic, political background. The very books that you read and the very practices that you do are all established in the background; and any thinking must be the result of that background. So, if we can be aware, - and we can go presently into what it signifies, what it means, to be aware, - perhaps we shall be able to uncondition the mind without the process of will, without the determination to uncondition the mind. Because the moment you determine, there is an entity who wishes, an entity who says "I must uncondition my mind". That entity itself is the outcome of our desire to achieve a certain result; so a conflict is already there. So, is it possible to be aware of our conditioning, just to be aware? - in which there is no conflict at all. That very awareness, if allowed, may perhaps burn away the problems. After all, we all feel there is something beyond our own thinking, our own petty problems, our sorrows. There are moments, perhaps, when we experience that state. But unfortunately that very experiencing becomes a hindrance to the further discovery of greater things; because our minds hold on to something that we have experienced. We think that it is the real, and so we cling to it; but that very clinging obviously prevents the experiencing of something much greater. So, the question is, can the mind which is conditioned, look at itself, be aware of its own conditioning, without any choice, be aware without any comparison, without any condemnation, and see whether in that awareness the particular problem, the particular thought, is not burned away totally at the root? Surely any form of accumulation, either of knowledge or experience, any form of ideal, any projection of the mind, any determined practice to shape the mind, - what it should be and should not be, - all this is obviously crippling the process of investigation and discovery. If one really goes into it and deeply thinks about it, one will see that the mind must be totally free from all conditioning, for religious freedom. And it is only in that religious freedom that all our problems, whatever they be, are solved. So I think our inquiry must be, not for the solution of our immediate problems, but rather to find out whether the mind, - the conscious as well as the deep unconscious mind in which is stored all the tradition, the memories, the inheritance of racial knowledge, - whether all of it can be put aside. I think it can be done only if the mind is capable of being aware without any sense of demand, without any pressure, - just to be aware. I think it is one of the most difficult things to be so aware; because we are caught in the immediate problem and in its immediate solution, and so our lives are very superficial. Though one may go to all the analysts, read all the books, acquire much knowledge, attend churches, pray, meditate, practise various disciplines, nevertheless our lives are obviously very superficial, because we do not know how to penetrate deeply. I think the understanding, the way of penetration, how to go very, very deeply, lies through awareness, - just to be aware of our thoughts and feelings, without condemnation, without comparison: just to observe. You will see, if you will experiment, how extraordinarily difficult it is; because our whole training is to condemn, to approve, to compare. So it seems to me that our problem, - which is really timeless, -is to find out for ourselves, to directly experience what it means to free the mind from all conditioning. It is comparatively easy to be free of nationality, to be free of the inherited racial qualities, to be free of certain beliefs, dogmas, and not to belong to any particular church or religion, - those are comparatively easy things for anyone who has thought about these matters and who is at all earnest and serious. But it is much more difficult to go further, to go beyond. We think we have done a great deal if we throw off some of the superficial layers of culture, whether Western or Eastern, But to penetrate beyond, without illusion, without deceiving oneself, is extremely difficult. Most of us have not the energy. I am not talking of the energy which comes through abstinence, through denial, through asceticism, through control, -those bring a wrong kind of energy, which distorts observation; but I'm talking of that energy which comes when the mind is no longer seeking anything at all, is no longer in need of search, in need of discovery, in need of experiencing, and is therefore a really still mind. Only such a mind can find out, for it is only such a still mind that can receive something which is not of its own projection, A still mind is the free mind; and such a mind is the religious mind. So can we really consider this, - not as a collective group experiencing something, which is comparatively easy, - but as individuals can we really inquire and find out for ourselves to what degree and depth we are conditioned? And can we not be aware of that conditioning without any reaction to it, without condemning it, without trying to alter it, without substituting a new conditioning for the old, but be aware so easily and deeply that the very process of conditioning, - which is after all the desire to be secure, the desire to have permanency, - is burned away at the root? Can we discover that for ourselves, - not because someone else has talked about it, - and be aware of it directly, so that the very root, the very desire to be secure, to have permanency, is burned away? It is this desire to have permanency, either in the future or in the past, to hold on to the accumulation of experience, that gives one the sense of security, - and cannot that be burned away? Because it is that which creates conditioning. This desire, which most of us have, to know and in that very knowing to find security, to have experience which gives us strength, - can we wipe away all that? not by volition, but burn it all away in awareness, - so that the mind is free from all its desires and that which is eternal can come into being. I think that is the only revolution, - not the communist or any other form of revolution. They do not solve our problems; on the contrary, they increase them, they multiply our sorrows, - which again is very obvious. Surely the only true revolution is the freeing of the mind from its own conditioning, and therefore from society, - not the mere reformation of society. The man who reforms society is still caught in society; but the man who is free of society, being free from conditioning he will act in his own way, which will act again upon society. So our problem is not reformation, how to improve society, how to have a better Welfare State, whether communist or socialist or what you will. It is not an economic or political revolution, or peace through terror. For a serious man these are not the problems. His real problem is to find out whether the mind can be totally free from all conditioning, and thereby perhaps discover in that extraordinary silence, that which is beyond all measurement. There are several questions. and before I answer them I think it is important to find out what we mean by a problem. A problem exists, does it not?, only when the mind is occupied. Please listen, and, if I may suggest it, do not jump to conclusions, because we are trying to investigate the whole thing together. When the mind is occupied, whether it is with God, with the kitchen, with a person or with an idea, a virtue, - all such occupation surely creates problems. If I am occupied with the discovery of God, or of truth, then it becomes a problem, because then I go round asking, begging, trying to find out which method is the best, and so on. So the real question is not about the problem itself, but rather, why is the mind occupied? Why does the mind seek occupation? I am not talking of the daily occupation of business and all the rest of it, but of this psychological occupation of the mind, - which has relation to our daily life. Because whether we are occupied with God, with truth, with love, with sex, or with the affairs of the kitchen or of the nation, all occupations are the same, there are no `noble' occupations. The mind seeks occupation, does it not? - it wants to be occupied with something, it is frightened not to be occupied. Try, some time, to see how busily you are occupied with your own problems, and find out what would happen if you were not so occupied. You will soon discover how frightened the mind is not to have any occupation! All our culture, all our training, tells us that the mind must be occupied; and yet it seems to me the very occupation creates the problem. Not that there are no problems, -there are problems; but I think it is the occupation with the problem which prevents the understanding of it. It is really very interesting to watch the mind, to watch one's own mind, and discover how incessantly it is occupied with something or other, - there is never a moment when it is quiet, unoccupied, empty, never a space which has no limit. Being so occupied, our problems ever increase; and the mere solution of one particular problem, without understanding the whole process of the occupation of the mind, merely creates other problems. So can we understand this peculiar insistence of the mind, on its part, to be occupied, - whether with ideas, with speculations, with knowledge, with delusions, with study, or with its own virtue and its own fears? To be free of all that, to have an unoccupied mind is quite arduous, because it means, really, the cessation of all this reaction of memory, which is called thinking. Question: I am very attached, and I feel it is very important to cultivate detachment. How am I to have this sense of freedom from attachment? Krishnamurti: Is our problem detachment? Or, is it attachment? - being attached brings pain, therefore we desire to be unattached. If we can look at the whole process of attachment, not just superficially but go into the whole significance of it, the depth of it, then perhaps there will be something entirely different from that which we call detachment. Why are we attached to anything to property, to people, to ideas, to beliefs? - you know the innumerable forms of attachment to so many things. Why are we attached? Is there not a sense of fear, if we are not attached to something, - to my friend, to an idea, to an experience that is over, to a son, to a brother, to a mother, to a wife who is dead? Do we not feel that we are disloyal, that we have no love, if we are not attached? And also, is there not that extraordinary fear of not being something through attachment? That is the problem, not how to cultivate detachment. If you cultivate detachment, the cultivation itself becomes a problem. Please see this. I am attached. That attachment is the outcome of fear, of various forms of loneliness, emptiness. and so on. I am aware of that and I know this pain of attachment; so I try to cultivate detachment. My mind is occupied with detachment, and how to arrive at that detachment; and that very process becomes a problem, does it not? I want to achieve detachment, and so the mind, being occupied with the result, with an idea called detachment, makes the achievement of it into a problem; then there is the conflict, - "I am attached, I must be detached", - there is pain; and so there is a constant striving to arrive at a particular state in which there is no pain, no fear. But if I can look at attachment, be aware of it, not ask how to get rid of the pain, or struggle to understand the whole implication of attachment, but just be aware of it, as one is aware of the sky, - that it's cloudy, dark with rain, or blue, - then there is no problem, then the mind is not occupied with attachment or its opposite, detachment. When the mind is so aware, it sees the whole significance of attachment. But you cannot see the whole inward significance of attachment if there is any form of condemnation, any form of comparison, judgment, evaluation. If you will experiment with this you will see. Merely to cultivate detachment becomes so very superficial. If you are detached, then what? But when there is awareness, you will see that where there is attachment there is no love; where there is attachment there is the desire for permanency, for security, for self-continuance, - which doesn't mean we should pursue self-destruction. And seeing that, then the problem of attachment becomes extraordinarily significant and wide. Merely to run away from attachment because so much pain is involved can only lead to superficial love, superficial thinking. And most of us who are practising virtue, - the virtue of detachment, of non-greed, of nonviolence, - do lead superficial lives, - the life of idea, the life of words. If one is aware of the whole problem of attachment, one will begin to find out the extraordinary depths of it, how the mind is attached to the experience of yesterday with its pain or with its pleasure, how the mind clings to it. One cannot be free of the experience of both the pleasure and the pain until one is really aware. In that awareness in which there is no choice, no reaction, the mind can go very deeply. The mere practice of any virtue can only lead to respectability, - which is what most people desire; for respectability identifies us with society. We all desire to be recognized as being something, - great or little, this or that, - and to that idea we are attached. We may want to detach ourselves from people because it causes pain, while the idea to which we are attached does not. But to really understand this whole problem of attachment, - to tradition, to nationality, to custom, to a habit, to knowledge, to opinion, to a Saviour, to all the innumerable beliefs and non-beliefs, - we must not be satisfied merely to scratch the surface, and think we have understood the problem of attachment when we are cultivating detachment. Whereas if we do not try to cultivate detachment, - which only becomes another problem, - if we can just look clearly at attachment, then perhaps we shall be able to go very deeply and discover something entirely different, something which is neither attachment nor detachment. Question: I have studied many systems of philosophy, and the teachings of the great religious leaders. Have you anything better to offer than what we know of already? Krishnamurti: I wonder why you study, why you read philosophy, why you read the sayings of religious leaders. Do you think the knowledge which you have learned, read of, will get you anywhere? Perhaps in a discussion, to show off your cleverness or erudition, it might be useful. But will accumulated knowledge, -except in the scientific world, - lead man, you or me, to find out what is real, what is truth, what is God. the eternal? - without which life has very little meaning. Surely, to find that which is the eternal, all knowledge must go, must it not? All the sayings of the Buddha, the Christ, of everyone, - must not all that be put aside? If it is not, then you are merely seeking, are you not?, your own projections or the projection of your church; it is really your own conditioning to which you are responding. Surely you must cease to be a Christian, a Hindu. a Buddhist, or a practicer of Yoga, - you must totally cease all that, must you not?, for something which is beyond to come into being, - if there is something beyond. Just to say there is something beyond and accept it and hope to achieve it, thereby making a problem of it, is obviously very superficial. But can we take a journey `not knowing', not having any encouragement, not having any support, being neither a Christian, a Buddhist, nor a Hindu, which are only labels. indicating a conditioned mind? To set aside all `knowing' is the only problem, - not, "Have I anything better to offer?" For surely one must be alone, - not isolated, not alone in knowledge, alone in experience, because all knowledge, all experience, is a hindrance to the discovery of that which is real. The mind must be free from all conditioning, alone, to find out. The more you practise, the more you accumulate, the more you discipline, shape, twist, struggle, the less the understanding of that which is. I am not talking of some Indian philosophy of negation, of doing nothing, whereas you all have the Western idea of doing something; I am not talking of that. What we are talking of is entirely different. Mind must be made innocent, fresh. It cannot be fresh and innocent if there is accumulation of knowledge, or the mere repetition of the words of a teacher, or the end result of some practice. Cannot the mind be aware of its own conditioning? - not only the superficial conditioning, but all the symbols, the ideologies, the philosophies, images, all those things deep down which condition the mind. To be aware of all that and to be free of it, - such freedom is religious freedom. It is that freedom which brings about revolution, - the only revolution that can transform the world. June 17, 1955. LONDON 2ND PUBLIC TALK 18TH JUNE 1955 I think it would be rather worthwhile if we could go into a problem thoroughly with that awareness of which we were speaking yesterday, and see if one can go through the whole process, not theoretically but actually, and discover for oneself the truth of what is being said. For that, it seems to me very important to know how to listen. Most of us do not really listen. We have various theories, reactions, responses, which actually block the real listening. I would like to discuss a problem which I think is quite complex, and which therefore needs an attention in which there is neither the struggle to understand, nor the attitude of merely listening to an explanation. Let us rather actually follow the issue, being alert and aware, and so explore, uncover, the whole problem. Our culture is based on envy, and we are the product of that culture. Envy exists not only in social matters, where there is competition with one another to achieve a result, a certain position, to gain power, and so on, but also inwardly, so-called spiritually, there is this acquisitive urge. I think most of us are aware of it. The urge to arrive, to grasp, to understand, to be, to gain a goal, to find happiness, God, or what you will, - all these are obviously the process of acquisition, the urge of envy. Society, as it develops, is going more and more to control the acquisitive instinct outwardly, through legislation; but inwardly there is no legislation which can control it. And it seems to me that this acquisitive instinct is one of the major issues; because in it is involved the whole process of effort. If we can really go into this, and see if one can actually be free from this urge to find a haven, a refuge, spiritually to become something, then I think we shall have solved an enormous problem, - perhaps the only problem. After all, when we seek reality, or God, we sometimes wish to give up the world, with its competition, its divisions, its classwarfare, and all the rest of it, and we then try to become monks, or sannyasis. But there is no abandonment of this process of acquisition, even though we become hermits, even though we renounce the world. There is still this desire to `become something', to follow somebody in order to realize, in order to find truth; there is always this sense of envy, of acquisitiveness, of gain. On that whole process our culture, socially and spiritually, is based. All our efforts are directed towards acquiring either virtue, or goods, or property, or a state of happiness, a state of bliss, - in which is involved this constant endeavour, constant striving, the struggle to be something. I think that is a fact, and I think most of us are aware of it. Now, can we be aware of this whole issue, not only consciously, but deep down in the unconscious, and so be free of this urge? Because so long as there is this striving, however beneficial it may be at one level it becomes detrimental, a hindrance, at another. All of us are trained, educated, to compete, inwardly as well as outwardly; and so there is no love of anything for its own sake, but only a sense of something to be achieved. Surely it is important to find out if the mind can be free from all this acquisitive pursuit. After all, seeking to become virtuous is a form of envy, is it not? And can we discuss that? So long as the mind is caught in any form of envy, achieving, gaining a goal, pursuing a result, searching for heaven, peace, or reality, there must be a constant accumulation of various forms of memory, which actually deter one from the discovery of the real. Essentially we are afraid, are we not?, to be what we are; we want to change what we are; and in the process of changing, the whole problem arises of the `how'. Our desire is to change in order to be something else; and so we are constantly inquiring as to a method, - how to achieve, how to be non-violent, and so on. The issue is, that our culture is acquisitive, - which means essentially, envious: our culture is based on envy. Socially one can see that very easily. But inwardly, so-called spiritually, intellectually, deep down, the same thing prevails, - envy is the basis of our search. Because I am unhappy, in sorrow, I want to change that, to escape into another state, - and so the problem arises of how to arrive at that other state. So we pursue different teachers, listen to various talks, read religious books, try to reform, try to discipline ourselves, always in order to achieve a result. If one can be aware of all that, then I think perhaps we shall understand a state in which there is no effort at all. Can we actually discuss this? Audience: Is it wrong to try and improve ourselves? What are we doing here listening to you, if we are not trying to improve? Krishnamurti: That is really a good question, if we can go into it. What is self-improvement? First of all, if there is to be improvement we must understand what the self is, must we not? We think it is permissible, right, that there should be self-improvement. But what do we mean by the self, the `me'? Is there a `me', a self, that is constant, that can be improved, a thing which has actual continuity? - not just the continuity that we wish to have, but in reality is there a continuity of the `me'? - apart from the continuity of the physical organism with its particular name, its particular qualities, living in a certain place and in certain relationships, having a job, and so on. Apart from that, is there a `me' that continues? Audience: Yes. No. Krishnamurti: Surely it is not merely a matter of opinion, "yes" or "no". If we are to find out we must not jump to any conclusions. We must not take an opinion or a wish to be a fact. We want to find out if there is a `me' that can improve, be added to: if there is a permanent entity that goes on improving, improving. Or, are there contradictory desires, urges, compulsions, one dominating the other, and that which dominates wishes to continue, suppressing the other desires? Or, is there only a state of flux, a constant change without any permanency, and the mind, realizing this impermanency, this flux, this transiency, wishes to have something permanent which it calls the self, and wishes that self to continue by improving itself? When we talk about self-improvement, `myself' becoming better, nobler, less this and more that, - surely that is all a process of thinking, is it not? There is no permanent `me' except for the desire to have permanency. So, is there an improvement of `me', can I improve myself? What does it mean, to `improve'? - from what to what? I am greedy, I want to improve, to be non-greedy. I am envious, irritable, whatever it is, and I wish to change that into something else. I make great efforts, discipline myself, follow certain meditations, and so on and so on, trying to improve myself all the time; but I never ask the basic question, - what is the `me' that wants to improve? Who are these two entities, the one that observes and wishes to change, and that which is observed? Am I making myself clear? Audience: Yes. Yes. Krishnamurti: So, when I say "I must improve myself", what is the entity that says "I must improve"? And is there an entity, a `me', that is different from the observer? (Pause) Let us discuss this and go into it. I am greedy, envious, and I want to improve, to put away envy. In that there are two entities, are there not? - the one that is envious, and the other that wants to free itself from envy. Audience: Not necessarily, - there is only one entity. Krishnamurti: Let us see. What is the actual process? I am envious; and I feel it is not the right thing, there is pain in it, it is immoral, and I wish to change the envy, or whatever it is. Those are the two states within me. But they are both within the same field of thought, are they not? The `me' that is greedy, and the `me' that wishes to change, - both are `me', are they not? Audience: The minute you decide to change you are greedy no longer. Krishnamurti: We are not at present discussing how or what to change. When we talk of improving ourselves, is there actually an improvement, or merely a change from one coat to another, substituting one set of words and feelings for another? Audience: There is no improvement unless you carry your ideal into action. Krishnamurti: Most of us pursue ideals, - `the good', `the beautiful', `what is true', `non-violence', and so on. And we know why we pursue them, - because we hope through ideals to change ourselves. Ideals act as a lever and urge us to change ourselves, to become more perfect. That is an actual fact, is it not? Take violence: I am violent, and so I have the ideal of nonviolence. And I pursue that ideal, try to practise it, I am constantly thinking about it, trying to change myself and the ways of my thinking in order to conform to the ideal which I have established for myself. But, have I actually changed? - or have I merely substituted one set of words for another? Is violence changed through an ideal? (Pause) What is important, surely, is not the ideal but the actual, the understanding of `what is'. The important thing is to understand my state of violence, from whence it arises, what are the causes, and so on, - and not to try to achieve a state of non-violence. Is that not so? Is it not extremely difficult for most of us to give up ideals, to wipe them all away, and be concerned with actually `what is'? If you are only concerned with `what is', then is there any form of self-improvement? Audience: Do all these things disappear if we discuss them? (Laughter). Krishnamurti: We are not concerned, are we?, with how to make things disappear. We want to find out, do we not?, how to transform something like greed, without conflict. Audience: Being concerned with `what is', - let us say, with violence, - does that not give strength to the violence? Krishnamurti: Does it? Please, let us go into this. All of us here, apparently, are great idealists; we accept ideals as a means of changing ourselves. So can we proceed from that, slowly? Audience: Is not an ideal good or bad according to the way you use it? You can buy things that are good, or bad, with your power, your money; and the same with your ideals. Krishnamurti: I thought this was an old subject, long ago brushed away, but I see it is not. Why do we have ideals? Audience: Largely because we have been educated to have ideals. Krishnamurti: Even if you had not been educated to a certain pattern of thinking, would you not create ideals for yourself? Audience: God gave us a brain to think with, and with it we have made ideals to help ourselves forward. Krishnamurti: Let us go into this matter slowly, step by step, and find out at least one thing this evening, - why we have ideals. Let us see if ideals have any significance at all in our lives, -deeply, not superficially, - and the whole implication of what is involved in ideals. Have they really any significance? If not, can we put them completely aside and perhaps look at things entirely differently? Audience: It gives us great pleasure to think of the ideal. Audience: Are not ideals an approach to the light? Are we not attracted upwards without even knowing it? Audience: Surely, we are dissatisfied with what we are, and are trying to get away from it. If what we are gives us pain, then we try to get away from pain to something that gives us pleasure and happiness. Krishnamurti: That is so, is it not? We are dissatisfied with what we are and we want to get away from that, we want to be free from that state of dissatisfaction. That is our concern, is it not? - and not, the ideal. Our concern is, we are dissatisfied with what we are. Audience: I don't think it is. I am perfectly satisfied with what I am. I don't see why one shouldn't be. (Laughter). Krishnamurti: If I am perfectly satisfied with what I am, then there is no problem, no issue. But surely most of us are dissatisfied. Audience: Do we not have ideals because in every human being there is a divine spark? Krishnamurti: Sir, what does that mean? How do we know? I am dissatisfied with what I am, - that is the general state with most of us. I am ugly and I want to become beautiful; I am greedy and I want to be non-greedy, because greed involves pain; I am attached and I want to be detached, because attachment breeds sorrow. It is all a form of dissatisfaction with `what is', is it not? We hope, through our dissatisfaction to achieve a change, a result; we want to wipe away dissatisfaction. If we can just concentrate on that issue now, perhaps we shall understand everything. I am dissatisfied with what I am. Does that dissatisfaction arise because I am comparing myself with something else? You understand the question? I am dissatisfied with myself because I have seen you being happy, satisfied. You have something which I have not got, and I would like to get it. Audience: If we stop all that, if we are aware of that, if we know that "I am what I am", - then, what have we left to go after, to build up, to strive for? Then, why are we frustrated? Krishnamurti: I think if we could go a little bit slowly, and not jump to any conclusions, then perhaps we shall be able to get at the root of this problem. It has been said that we have ideals because we are divine. But I do not know if I am divine. People may have told me that there is a spark of divinity in me, but I do not know anything about it, do I? -I merely repeat it. I want to find out for myself if there is such a thing as divinity. And I cannot find that out if my mind is dissatisfied, because, being dissatisfied, I may myself create an idea of divinity which will satisfy me. Being dissatisfied, psychologically, inwardly, my whole search is to find satisfaction. So I create a truth, a staff, a reality, a bliss, a haven, which will satisfy me; therefore it is only my own creation. But if I can understand why I am dissatisfied, the whole process and the content of dissatisfaction, then perhaps I shall understand something much greater, instead of merely clinging to a creation of my own desire. So, let us please keep to this point. We are dissatisfied. Now, our problem is, being dissatisfied, how am I to find satisfaction? I may put it very crudely, but that is the actual fact. Audience: (Standing up and brandishing Bible). I find satisfaction by reading God's word. I was converted, and since I've read God's word I'm satisfied and I don't want anything else. Krishnamurti: Yes, sir. We are all seeking satisfaction. You will find satisfaction in the Bible, in a book; I may find satisfaction in a drink. You may find satisfaction in power, position, prestige, money; and I may find satisfaction in self-improvement. So, we all are seeking satisfaction. Is that not so? Audience: Yes. Yes. Krishnamurti: We are seeking satisfaction through the achievement of an ideal, through a belief. You may find it in one way and I may find it in another; yours may be a so-called noble way and mine may be a so-called low way. But the urge, the drive, the tendency, is to find a state of satisfaction which will never be disturbed. Is that not what we want? Audience: Yes. Yes. Audience: But is not that urge smoothed out directly we get beyond ourselves? Like listening to music, - , it takes us away from ourselves and from life's limitations. Krishnamurti: Surely that is merely a theory, - if we did `this', `that' would happen. It is a supposition. But the actual fact is that we are dissatisfied and are seeking satisfaction. That is why you are listening to me, is it not? You hope to find something by listening. You are dissatisfied, you are searching, you are unhappy, frustrated, in contradiction, and you want to find a way out of this mess, this chaos; and so you listen, hoping to find a way out. Now, I am suggesting that we should first find out why there is dissatisfaction, and not concern ourselves with how to transform it into satisfaction. Actually, what does being dissatisfied mean? Audience: It is because we do not have the understanding of supreme consciousness. Krishnamurti: Oh sir! How can a mind which is so disturbed, which is so anxious, which is so frustrated, which is constantly demanding, wanting, - how can such a mind think of a supreme consciousness or any of those ideals? They may be all nonsense. The actual fact is that I am disturbed. Why cannot we start from there? I am dissatisfied; how am I to find satisfaction? That is our problem, is it not? Audience: Yes. Yes. Audience: Sir, isn't satisfaction the same as the self which is disturbed? Krishnamurti: We will investigate, sir. Please, let us go slowly, step by step. I am dissatisfied, and you are. Audience: I am dissatisfied with what I am. If I knew what I am I should be much happier, - but I do not know what I am. Krishnamurti: That is the whole problem, is it not? I am unhappy, and I want to find happiness. I am in a state of misery, frustration, and I want to find fulfilment. Audience: Why? Krishnamurti: Please, - let us first see the fact, and not say "Why?" We will go into that. But is that the fact? (Pause) Audience: Yes, it is. Krishnamurti: So the next thing we are concerned with is how to bring about a change. I am unhappy, and I want to be happy. How is that change to be brought about? Audience: By being happy. Krishnamurti: Sir, if you say to an unhappy man "Be happy", it has no meaning, has it? Audience: I can see there is dissatisfaction within myself, and that by getting away from it my mind is escaping. Krishnamurti: That is so, is it not? I have never understood the whole process of dissatisfaction, but I merely want to escape from it,I want to get away from it, to take flight from it, deny it. I am dissatisfied, I am unhappy, I am violent; I do not like that state, so I want to change it. And I have the ideal as a means of bringing about a change in me; or I pursue someone who will show me the way to be satisfied, how to be happy. Which means, really, I have not understood the state in which I am, but am denying it. Surely that is so? I am denying the state in which I am, - because I am pursuing a state which I think will give me satisfaction, give me happiness, put an end to my frustration. Whereas, if we had no escape, if we would put away all ideals and face the fact that we are dissatisfied, then we could proceed. But so long as I am escaping from the fact that I am dissatisfied, by trying to become satisfied, there is bound to be frustration. So I want to understand that state of dissatisfaction, with all its implications, and not try to change it into something else. Do we understand this? And can we, in talking it over together, free the mind from the ideal, and face the fact that I am violent? -not ask how to be non-violent, which is merely an escape from the fact. Can I look at the fact? (Pause) Audience: What do you mean by `looking at the fact'? Krishnamurti: Can we now go into that? How do I actually face the fact that I am violent? What does it mean, to look at something? It means, can I look at myself without condemning myself? Can I look at the fact of violence without introducing the desire not to be violent? The very word `violence' has a condemnatory significance, has it not? You are following this? Audience: Yes. Yes. Krishnamurti: That is, I become aware that I am violent, envious. And to me, what is important is to understand that state and not try to change it. Because the very desire to change is an escape from the fact. Unless that is very clear, we cannot proceed further. (Pause) The difficulty here is that each one is pursuing his own thoughts, his own way of translating what is being said. Can we look at this one issue together, very simply? I am envious. I have been told from childhood that it is wrong, and I have been conditioned to condemn it; so I am dissatisfied with it. I have read in books, I have been told, that one must live in peace, in a state of love, and all the rest of it. So, I am trying to change what I am into what I should be. The `should be' is the ideal, is it not? - which is an escape from what I am. I think that is fairly clear. So first let us put aside the ideal altogether. For most of us, that is the most difficult thing to do. The mind must be free from the ideal first. Perhaps I am dissatisfied because of the ideal? Perhaps I feel I should be something noble, and because I am not I am dissatisfied? Or, is dissatisfaction something inherent, quite apart from comparison? You understand the problem? Audience: Yes. Krishnamurti: So do I know dissatisfaction only through the comparison of the ideal with what I am? And if there was no comparison at all, would I still be dissatisfied? If I did not think in terms of the `more' or the `less', would there be dissatisfaction? Is dissatisfaction inherent in my thinking, in my being? I know of the ideal, I am being taught about it, and also I want to improve, become something greater, - therefore I am dissatisfied. But so long as I am thinking in terms of time, - which is, the becoming something in the future, - there must be dissatisfaction, surely? So, can the mind be free from all comparison? You are listening to me, are you not?, because you want to achieve a state which I have talked about. Whether I have achieved it or not is not important. You want to achieve that state. Why? Because, you are dissatisfied, you are unhappy, frustrated, you are nothing and you want to be something. And this effort to get from the state in which you are to the state which you think you should achieve is called a process of growth, is it not? Audience: Yes. Krishnamurti: But if I can understand the actual state in which I am, then perhaps this whole idea of becoming something, this whole idea of demanding time in order to grow, may be irrelevant, may be utterly false. I think it is. So the problem then is, that I am dissatisfied, - and I am no longer concerned with how to achieve satisfaction, because I see it as an escape from the actual fact of dissatisfaction, of unhappiness, of frustration. The actual fact is, I am frustrated, - because I am seeking fulfilment. Is that not so? I am seeking fulfilment, therefore I am frustrated. So I ask myself if there is such a thing as fulfilment at all. You understand? So long as I am seeking fulfilment there is the accompanying fear of not fulfilling. So, is it not right to find out for oneself whether there is fulfilment at all? - not, how to fulfil, how to wipe away the frustration in which I am caught. Because so long as I am seeking fulfilment in any form, there must be frustration. Surely, that is a fact. Now, why do I seek fulfilment? - in my son, through a job, and all the other ways; we know what it means without too much description. There may be no fulfilment at all; and if we seek fulfilment there is frustration, from which arises sorrow. If I can find out the truth, - whether there is fulfilment at all, - then perhaps I can be free from frustration. So, is there fulfilment? That is the whole question. Is that clear? Audience: Yes. Krishnamurti: In our daily life there is the urge to fulfil. And with that urge go frustration, grief, sorrow, envy, and all the rest of it, - with which we are all familiar. So there is always a lack, a sense of insufficiency, is there not? I may fulfil in one direction and yet be miserable in another. It goes on indefinitely; and so frustration is a continual process. So, my problem then is, to find out the truth, whether there is fulfilment. And, why do we want to fulfil? Audience: Because we are afraid of a state of not being fulfilled; we are afraid to stay unfulfilled. Krishnamurti: Let us investigate, look into ourselves. Fulfilment is a state of transiency; the urge is constantly changing. There is no permanent state of fulfilment, is there? So, why is there this urge to fulfil? Audience: Because we long for permanency. Krishnamurti: So because in ourselves we are not permanent, because there is nothing in us which is enriching, because we are inwardly poor, sorrowing, therefore we seek fulfilment, we try to gather, to be something. That is the root of it, is it not? Do we see that? (Pause) Audience: Yes. Krishnamurti: Now, let us proceed from that. We are confused, we are lonely, inwardly we are insufficient, - that is the fact. Every action away from that fact is an escape, is it not? And it is one of the most difficult things to do, not to escape. Because, to look at the fact, to consider it, to be aware of it, implies no condemnation of the fact, no comparison, no evaluation. So can we, not theoretically but actually, experience the thing we are talking of? Because then we will see that it is possible to be totally free from this sense of insufficiency, from this root cause of misery. Audience: Do you mean that we should be satisfied as we are? (Sh! Sh!) Krishnamurti: No, sir, - that only leads to stagnation, to immobility, to death. I am showing that any interpretation of the fact is either based on satisfaction or dissatisfaction. So, can I look at that fact of inward insufficiency without comparing, without judging? Can I look at it without fear? Is it not fear of the fact that is making me do all these things, making me pursue the ideal? Can we understand now that it is fear that is making us compare? - fear of some, thing which we do not know. We have given it the name of insufficiency, of loneliness, of misery, of confusion; and having given a name to it we have thus condemned it and run away from the fact. When we do not condemn, do not judge, do not evaluate and compare, then we are left only with fear. Is that clear, so far? Audience: Yes. Yes. Krishnamurti: Fear, of what? You understand the question? I am afraid of a state which I call `insufficiency'. I do not know that state, I have never really looked at it, but I am afraid of it. Being afraid of it, I run away from it. But now I am not running away through comparison, or through ideals, because I see the falseness of escape. So I am left only with fear of something about which I do not know. Is that not so? Audience: Yes. Krishnamurti: If you are following this actually, - not verbally, not intellectually, not descriptively, - you will see for yourself the process of this unfolding, and the depths into which one can go. Then I no longer have ideals; they have no meaning any more. I am no longer striving to achieve. The fact is, I am afraid of something about which I do not know; but if I stop running away from it, then I am left with the fact and the fear. If I pursue the fear, if I ask the question "How am I to get rid of fear?", then that is another escape from the fact, is it not? So, I am now concerned with the understanding of `what is; and I see that giving a name to a thing as `emptiness', as `loneliness', as `insufficiency', has actually created the fear. Giving it a label has brought about the reaction of fear to that label. So, can the mind be aware of the thing without condemning, without judging, without escaping, and without giving it a name? This is extraordinarily difficult, because most of us are so conditioned to pursue the ideal that it prevents us from looking at the actual fact. We are not capable of looking at the fact when there is comparison, when the mind gives a label, a name. But when there is no naming of the fact, no escaping from it through ideals, through comparison, through judgment, then what is there left? Is there anything which can be called insufficiency? Is there that urge to fulfil which breeds frustration? (Pause) So we begin to find out how the mind has been incapable of, looking at anything without all this confusing, contradictory process. Only when the mind is capable of abandoning it all, - not through any effort but because it sees the truth of all this, - only then is there the cessation of envy, - the complete cessation. Such a mind is no longer caught by society, by any particular culture, - for all our culture is based on envy. Then we will find that the mind is no longer seeking, because there is nothing more to seek. Then such a mind is really quiet. Merely repeating what has been said has no meaning at all. But to actually experience this, through self-knowledge, and not to accumulate that which has been experienced, - because accumulation distorts all further experience, - to be aware of all this, gives truth, gives that extraordinary freedom which comes through complete aloneness. The mind that is completely alone, uncontaminated, not escaping is capable of receiving that which is true. June 18, 1955 LONDON 3RD PUBLIC TALK 19TH JUNE 1955 It seems to me that, especially in religious matters, our search is very superficial. We do not seem to be able to go beyond the surface depths. Most of us spend our days in searching for some reality that our conditioned thinking either projects or can only superficially comprehend. Is it not a problem with most of us, how to search really very deeply, to go beyond the superficial depths, to be free of all psychologists, of all prophets, teachers, Saviours, Masters, and disciplines, so that we, as individuals, can really find out for ourselves what is true? And we do not seem to be able to do it; because we are always looking for support, for confirmation from those who we think have already found, or who have been pointed out to us by the various religions. We have no confidence in our own capacity to find out. If we can have confidence in our own capacity, then perhaps we shall be free to find out for ourselves what is true, - that which is beyond the measure of the mind. Now, how is one to have this capacity? Because, if one has it then one is free, one is liberated from all following, from all authority. from this sense of imitation, of conformity to the pattern laid down by any particular religion or philosophy. If we have this capacity to search really profoundly, to go to the very depths of our being, without distortion, without the fear of not discovering, of not finding a result, then perhaps we can be free of all culture, whether of the East or of the West. Because culture, it seems to me, does not help us to find reality, - that which is beyond measure, that which is beyond time. Western or Eastern influence has so conditioned us, so shaped our minds, that we think only in the pattern of our own culture. I do not think culture will ever help us. On the contrary, I think we must be free of all culture, totally, - which means, to be free from the desire to be recognized by society. The man who is capable of going to the very depth of things, he alone is the true individual. At present we are the mass, the collective, the result of culture, of tradition. of all the various beliefs and conditioned experiences. Surely it is only when we are free of all that, that we are truly individual; and it is only then that reality can come into being. So, how is one to have this capacity which will set us free from all authority in spiritual matters, so that we are true individuals, capable of finding out for ourselves, never asking for encouragement, for confirmation, for support? I think that is a fundamental question. We rarely ask fundamental questions; and if we do ask them, we are easily satisfied with superficial answers, with the words of another. So, can you and I have this capacity? -not in the process of time, which is again an evasion; but can you and I have it immediately? Can one go beyond the superficial level? What is it that prevents me from being so clear that I understand the whole, the totality of my being? In the very process of understanding how my being is the result of tradition, of time, of culture, of fear, of experience, can I not set all that aside, so that the mind is fresh, clear, and able to find out, to perceive directly? I am sure most of us must have asked this question. Can the mind be free, not depending on another, whoever it be, not depending on any system or any path? If you pursue a system, a path, then obviously you will have the result of that system, of that path, but you are no longer an individual, a true seeker. A true seeker must obviously be free. So what is it that is preventing this extraordinary capacity to pursue very deeply and not be satisfied with superficial explanations and beliefs? One of the reasons is, is it not? that we move, that we think, from accumulation to accumulation. Where there is accumulation there must be imitation. Every experience leaves a residue as memory, and from that memory we act, we gather, we strengthen ourselves. There is never a moment when the mind is really free, but always there is the residue of yesterday's experiences. It is this memory, - the result of years of accumulation, - which prevents the capacity to be clear, direct. So the mind is never free. I do not know if you have noticed how every experience leaves a residue, a result. and round that result all further experience is translated, gathered, accumulated, and held. So memory, as experience, as tradition, as knowledge, is the burden which prevents us from having this capacity to be free, to be completely individual, to discover for ourselves. Being born a Hindu, or a Christian, naturally the mind is conditioned in a particular symbology, in various ideas of what reality is, what meditation is and through that conditioning the mind experiences, and so further strengthens its own conditioning. The Christian will always hold in spiritual matters to the vision of Christ, or the Virgin Mary, - and the Hindu does the same, in his own way. To be totally free, not superficially but completely, -which means, when there is no form of imitation. when there is no sense of conformity psychologically, inwardly, - only then, surely, ore has this capacity to search, to find out. If you have followed this, the obvious question is. "How am I to free myself from all the accumulation of the past, from all my conditioning?" There is no `how', there is only the discovery of the truth, without asking `how to be free'. Because if our whole attention is given to the discovery of what is true, then that very perception, that very listening to that which is true, liberates. So long as we think in terms of belief, of illusion, of things we would wish to be, we are incapable of listening, giving our whole attention. Our beliefs, our traditions, our symbols, prevent the actual listening to any truth. It seems to me the only important thing is to give attention; complete attention is the complete good. Attention with an object in view is no longer attention, it is exclusion. Therefore if we can listen, not in order to gain something, - such attention becomes exclusive, narrow, limited, -but listen with our whole being, totally, without any object, then we will see that we will never ask the `how', the method. the system, the philosophy, the discipline. In that state of complete attention there is no contradiction within ourselves, there is no battle between the conscious and the unconscious; it is a total attention. And so there is no need to go through all the psychoanalytical process, delving into memory after memory, in order to be free. So can we, you and I who are listening, actually experience, without each experience leaving a residue? You understand the problem? If I experience something, and it leaves a memory, that memory conditions future experiences; and so that which is measureless can never be experienced. That which is, is timeless; and memory is of time. Whether it is the superficial memory of a certain incident, or the memory of an experience that one has had on rare occasions when one has perhaps felt, known, something beyond the measurement of the mind, something eternal, -whatever it be, we are forever clinging to that experience, and so it prevents the mind from experiencing further, more profoundly. So long as experience leaves a mark of memory, which is time, that which is eternal can never be experienced. So the mind must die to itself from moment to moment, of all experience. Surely only in that state is it creative, And can one have the capacity to penetrate deeply? I think one can, but only when we are not satisfied with explanations, when we are no longer fed with words, when we no longer depend on other people's experiences, when we are not looking to anybody, when we are taking the journey completely alone, having shed all tradition, all culture, all belief, and above all, all knowledge, - because a mind that is cluttered with knowledge can only experience that which it knows. So can you and I, not theoretically, not just for the moment because you are listening to a talk, but actually, directly, put aside all the inherited racial accumulation, cease to be English or Hindu, cease to have religion in the sense of orthodoxy, dogmas, symbols? If we cling to all these we are no longer seekers; then we are merely pursuing satisfaction, the pleasure of an experience which the conditioned mind demands. And I think this capacity is not of time. If we look to time, then we shall again be caught in the method. But to see the importance, feel the importance, be aware of the necessity of complete inward freedom, see the truth of it, - then that very perception, that very listening with full attention, brings the capacity. Question: I want my child to be free. Is true freedom incompatible with loyalty to the English tradition of life and education? Krishnamurti: This is what they say in India too, - can I be a Hindu, with loyalty to my country, and yet be free to find God? Can I still be a Hindu, a Buddhist, a Christian, and yet be free? Can you? One may have a passport, a piece of paper for travelling; but that need not make one a Hindu. Surely freedom is totally incompatible with any nationality, any tradition. There is the American way of life, the English way of life, the Russian way if life, and the Hindu way of life. Each one says "Our way is the only way", and clings to it; and yet we all talk of freedom, peace. I think all this has to go it we are to bring about a different world, a world which is ours, a world in which there is no communism or socialism or capitalism or Hinduism or Christianity. The earth is our world in which to live undivided, to live happily, to live freely. But it cannot be our world so long as there are Englishmen, Hindus, Germans, Communists, and so on, -that way it can never be free. This freedom can only come about when we are really religious, when each one of us is really an individual in the true sense. When we are religiously free, then we can create a world which is ours, and so give a different kind of education, - not merely condition the child to a particular culture, encase him i;i a particular system, train him to be a communist or atheist or Catholic or Protestant or Hindu; such individuals are not free, therefore they are not really religious, they are merely conditioned; and they create such misery. So if we are to create a totally different world, there must be a religious revolution, - not the going back to some belief, or going forward to some achievement, but freedom from all tradition, all dogma, all symbols, all belief, so that one is truly an individual, free to find, to search out, that which is measureless. Question: The Western mind is trained to contemplate on object, the Eastern mind to meditate on subject. The first leads to action, the other to the negation of action. It is only by the integration of these two directions of perception within the individual that a total understanding of life can emerge. What is the key to that integration? Krishnamurti: Why do we divide the human being as of the West or of the East? Is there not a different approach to this problem altogether? - not merely an attempt to integrate action with meditation. I think such an integration is an impossibility. Perhaps there may be a different approach to the problem altogether, instead of this attempt to integrate action with a state of mind which is aloof, which merely observes, contemplates. We have divided life as action and non-action, and therefore we seek integration. But if we do not divide ourselves at all, if we can eliminate from our thinking this whole issue of the orient as against the occident, and look at the problem differently, - then, in seeking reality the mind becomes creative, and in the very perception of that which is real there is action, which is contemplation; there is no division. To the western mind the orient, with its mysticism and all that stuff, is foreign. Because of the cold climate in the west, because of the various forms of industrial revolution and all the rest of it, you must be active, you must bother with a lot of clothing. In the east, where there is a very warm climate and very little clothing is needed, one has time, leisure; and there is the old tradition that one must go away from society to find. Here, you are concerned entirely with reform, - better conditions, better living. So, how can the two be integrated? Both approaches may be false, - and surely they must be, when one gives exaggerated importance to the one and denies the other. But if we try to find, seeking not as a group of Christians but as individuals, having no authority in our search for reality, then that very search itself is creative, and that very creativeness brings about its own action. If we do not seek that religious freedom, all reform leads only to further misery, - which is being shown everywhere. You may have peace through terror; but there will still be inward wars with each other, - competition, ruthlessness, the search for power by the group or by the individual. Only those people who are religious, in the deepest sense of that word, - who have shed all spiritual authority, who do not belong to any church, any group, who have not identified themselves with any particular doctrine, who are seeking everlastingly, timelessly asking, and never accumulating any experience, - only such people are truly creative. Such a mind is the only religious and therefore revolutionary mind, and it will act without dividing itself as the contemplative or the active, because such a one is a total being. Question: I am afraid of death. I have lived a very rich and full life intellectually, artistically, and emotionally. Now that I am approaching death all that satisfaction is gone, and I am left with nothing but the religious beliefs of my childhood, - such as purgatory, hell, and so on, - which now fill me with terror. Can you give me any reassurance? Krishnamurti: And I think the next question is also concerned with death, so I will read that too. Question: I am a young man, till a few weeks ago in perfect health and enjoying life to the full. An accident has injured me fatally and the doctors only give me a few months to live: W Why should this happen to me, and how am I to meet death? Krishnamurti: I think most of us, whether we are young or old, are afraid of death. The man who wants to finish his work, he is afraid of death; because he wants to achieve a result. The man who is making a successful career does not want to be cut off in the middle of it, so he is afraid of death. The man who has lived fully, with all the richness of this world, he also is afraid of death. So what is one to do? You see, we never ask fundamental questions. The person who has lived richly, fully, had never asked the question. His rich and full life was very superficial, because underneath, deep down, all the traditions of Christianity, of Hinduism or what you will, are there, hidden, lying dormant; and when his life is not being lived richly, fully, the sediments of the past come to the top, and he is afraid of purgatory, or he invents a heaven which will be satisfactory. So there are in the unconscious the sediments of our culture, of our racial fears, and so on. And while we are active, thoughtful, healthy, it seems to me it is a necessity to inquire into the very depths of our being in order to find out and eradicate all these deposits, sediments, of tradition, of fear, so that when death does come we are capable of looking at it. Which means, really, that we should be able to ask a fundamental question now, and not be satisfied with superficial answers. There are those who believe in reincarnation; they say they will live next life, that there is a continuity, there is no annihilation; and they are happy in that belief. But they have not solved the problem, they are merely satisfied with words, with explanations. Or, if you are very intellectual, you say "Death is inevitable, it is part of existence. As I am born, I shall die. Why make an issue of it?" They have not solved the problem either. Most of us are afraid, only we cover it up with beliefs, with explanations, with rationality. And there is the man who says "I am only young, why should I be cut off? I want to live, see the richness of life. And why should it happen to me?" When anyone says "Why should it happen to me?", obviously it means "It should happen not to me but to you". So we are all concerned with this issue. Now, can we search into it? Please, will you experiment with what I am saying? - not merely listen, but really experience this now by actually following the description and applying it to yourself. The description is merely the door through which you are looking; but you have to look. If you do not look, the description, the door, has very little value. So, we are going to look, and find out for ourselves the truth of this problem, - but not by seeking explanations, not by changing one belief for another, not by substituting the Christian belief in heaven for the Hindu belief in reincarnation, and so on. The fact is, there is death; the organism comes to an end. And the fact is, there may or may not be a continuity. But I want to know now, while I am healthy, vital, and alive, what it is to live richly; and I also want to find out now what it means to die, - not wait for an accident or a disease to carry me off. I want to know what it means to die, - living, to enter the house of death. Not theoretically, but actually, I want to experience the extraordinary thing it must be, - to enter into the unknown, cutting off all the known. Not to meet with the known, not to meet a friend on the other side, - that is what is frightening us. I am afraid to let go of all the things I have known, the family, the virtue that I have cultivated, the property, the position, the power, the sorrow, the joy, everything that I have gathered, which is all the known, - I am afraid to let all that go, totally, deep down, right from the depths of my being, and to be with the unknown, - which is, after all, death. Can I, who am the result of the known, not seek to move into something also known, but enter something which I do not know, something which I have never experienced? Books have been written about death, various religions have taught of it; but those are all descriptions, those are all the things known. Death, surely, is the unknown, as truth is the unknown; and the mind that is burdened with the known can never enter into that realm of the unknown. So the question is, can I put away all the known? I cannot put it away by will. Please, follow this. I cannot put away the known by will, by volition; because that entails a maker of the will, an entity who says "This is right and this is wrong", "This I want and this I do not want". Such a mind is acting from the known. is it not? It says "I want to enter that extraordinary thing which is death, the unknowable, and so I must relinquish the known". Such a person then searches the various corners of his mind. in order to push aside the known. This action allows the entity who deliberately pushed away the known to remain. But as that entity is itself the result of the known, it can never experience or enter that extraordinary state. Is this not clear? - that so lone as there is an experiencer, that experiencer is the result of the known; and then that experiencer wishes to understand that which is the not-known, the unknown. Whatever efforts he may make towards that, his experience will still be within the field of the known. So the problem then is, can the experiencer cease, totally? Because, he is the actor, he is the urge, he is the seeker, he is the entity who says "This is the known, and I must move towards the unknown". And surely any action, any movement on the part of the observer, the experiencer, is still within the field of the known. So, can the mind, which is the result of the known, which is the result of time, - can that mind enter into the unknown? Obviously it cannot. So any explanation of death, any belief, is still the outcome of the known. Therefore can I, can my mind, denude itself totally of all the known? There is no answer. It depends on you. You have to find out, you have to inquire, you have to delve into this problem. Fundamental questions have no "yes" or "no" for an answer. You have to posit the fundamental question, and wait for it to unfold itself. It cannot unfold itself if you are merely seeking an answer, an explanation. This is the fundamental question, - Can I, who am the result of the known, enter into the unknown, which is death? If I want to do it, it must be done while living, surely, not at the last moment. At the last moment the mind is not capable of looking, understanding; it is diseased, tired, exhausted, it has very little consciousness. But while one is active, full of consciousness, alert, aware, - can one not find out? While living to enter the house of death is not just a morbid idea; it is the only solution. While living a rich, full life, - whatever that means, - or while living a miserable, impoverished life, can we not know that which ia not measurable, that which is only glimpsed by the experiencer in rare moments? So can you and I put away the known? You understand the depths of the problem? The mind clings to every pleasurable experience, and wants to avoid the unpleasant. This accumulation of the pleasant is the known; and the avoidance of the unpleasant is also the known. Can the mind die from moment to moment to everything that it experiences, and never accumulate? Because if there is accumulation then there is the ex- periencer always looking from that accumulation; that accumulation itself is the experiencer; therefore he can never know what is beyond the known. I think it is very important for each one of us to understand this deeply, because then knowledge, then discipline, then belief and dogma, the pursuit of teachers and gurus and all the rest of it, have no meaning at all. For the disciplines, the methods, are all the known, - things to be practised and ends to be gained. Can we see the totality of all that, giving our whole attention to it? - not in order to gain the unknown, for such attention is merely exclusion, a form of greed. Can we be aware that so long as there is any movement of the mind, that movement is born of time, of the known, and such a movement towards the unknown can never enter that field of freedom? If we can, then the mind, seeing the truth of it, becomes completely motionless. It is no longer seeking, asking, searching out; because it understands that any searching, asking, is from the known. Only when the mind is totally still is it possible for the unknown to be. June 19, 1955 LONDON 4TH PUBLIC TALK 24TH JUNE 1955 It seems to me that one of the most difficult problems is this question of how to bring about a fundamental change in ourselves. We often think the transformation of the individual is not important, but that we should rather be concerned with the mass, with the whole. I think that is quite a mistaken idea. I think transformation must begin with the individual, - if there is such an entity as the individual. There must be a fundamental change in you and me. One can see that any conscious change is no change at all. The deliberate process of bringing about self-improvement, the deliberate cultivation of a particular pattern or form of action, does not bring about a real change at all, for it is merely a projection of one's own desire, of one's own background, as a reaction. Yet we are most of us concerned over this question of change, because we are groping, we are confused. And those of us who are at all given to seriousness must vitally inquire into this question of how to bring about a change in ourselves. The difficulty, it seems to me, lies in understanding the fact that any form of change in a conditioned mind gives only a different conditioning, not a transformation. If I, as a Hindu, or a Christian, or what you will, try to change within that pattern, it is no real change at all, it is only perhaps a seemingly better, more convenient, more adaptive conditioning; but fundamentally it is not a change. I think one of the greatest difficulties we are confronted with is that we think we can change within the pattern. Whereas, surely, for a mind which is conditioned by society, by any form of culture, to bring about a conscious change within the pattern is still a process of conditioning. If that is very clear, then I think our inquiry to find out what transformation is, how it is possible to bring about a radical change in ourselves, becomes very interesting, a vital issue. Because, culture, - that is, the society about us, - can never produce a religious man; it can breed `religion', but it cannot bring about a religious man. Now, if I may somewhat go off the point, most of us have a strong reaction to that word `religion'. Some like it, the very word gives them a sense of emotional satisfaction; others are repelled by the word. But I think it is important to find out how to truly listen to what is being said. How does one listen? You hear the word `religion', and either you like it or you dislike it. That very word acts as a barrier to further understanding, to further exploration, because one reacts to the word. But can one listen without that reaction? For if we can listen without any reaction, without our prejudices, our peculiarities, our idiosyncrasies, our beliefs, coming in the way, then I think we can go very far. But it is very arduous to put our prejudices aside and give complete attention to something that is being said. Attention becomes narrow, exclusive, when it is merely concentrated on a particular idea. Most of us have ideas, certain prejudices, and so long as we are thinking along those lines we may pay so-called attention, but it is really only a form of exclusion, - which is not attention at all. What I am suggesting is that to really listen, one must be aware of one,s own prejudices, one,s own emotional and neurological reactions to a particular word, like `God', `religion' `love', and so on, and put those reactions aside. If one can so listen, attentively, not looking for any particular idea which may tally with one's own, or any which may go contrary to one's own, then I think these talks will be worthwhile. So, as I was saying, culture can only produce religions, not a religious man. And I think it is only the religious man who can really bring about a radical change within himself. Any change, any alteration within the conditioned mind of a particular culture, is no real change, it is merely a continuation of the same thing modified. I think that is fairly obvious, if one thinks about it, - that so long as I have the pattern of a Hindu, a Christian, a Buddhist, or what you will, any change I bring about within that pattern is a conscious change, still part of the pattern, and therefore no change at all. Then the question arises, can I bring about a change through the unconscious? That is, either I start consciously to change the pattern of my living, the ways I think, to remove consciously my prejudices, - which is all a deliberate process of effort in the pursuit of a determined object, ideal, - or, one tries to bring about a change by delving into the unconscious. Surely, in both these approaches is involved the problem of effort. I see I must change, - for various reasons, for various motives, - and I consciously set about changing. Then I realize, if I think about it at all, that it is not a real change, and so I delve into the unconscious, go into that very deeply, hoping through various forms of analysis to bring about a change, a modification, or a deeper adjustment. And now, I ask myself whether this conscious and unconscious effort to change does bring about a change at all? Or, must one go beyond the conscious as well as the unconscious to bring about a radical change? You see, both the conscious desire as well as the unconscious urge to change imply effort. If you go into it very deeply you will see that in trying to change oneself into something else, there is always the one who makes the effort and also that which is static, that upon which the effort is exerted. So in this process of desire to bring about a change, - whether it is conscious or unconscious, - there is always the thinker and the thought, the thinker trying to change his thought, - the one who says "I must change", and the state which he desires to change. So, there is this duality; and we are always, everlastingly, trying to bridge this gap, through effort. I see in myself that there is, in the conscious as well as in the unconscious, the maker of the effort and that which he wishes to change. There is a division between that which I am and that which I wish to be. Which means, there is a division between the thinker and the thought; and so there is a conflict. And the thinker is always trying to overcome that conflict, consciously or unconsciously. We are quite familiar with this process, it is what we are doing all the time; all our social structure, our moral structure, our adjustments, and so on, are based on that. But does that bring about a change? If not, then must not a change come about at a totally different level which is not in the field either of the conscious or of the unconscious? Surely the whole field of the mind, the conscious as well as the unconscious, is conditioned by our particular culture. That is fairly obvious. So long as I am a Hindu, a Buddhist, a Christian, or what you will, the very culture in which I have been brought up conditions my whole being. My whole being is the conscious as well as the unconscious. In the field of the unconscious are all the traditions, the residue of all the past of man, inherited as well as acquired; and in the field of the conscious I am trying to change. Such change can only be according to my conditioning, and therefore can never bring about freedom. So transformation, obviously, is something which is not of the mind at all; it must be at a different level altogether at a different depth, at a different height. So, how am I to transform? I see the truth - at least, I see something in it - that a change, a transformation, must begin at a level which the mind, as the conscious or the unconscious, cannot reach, because my consciousness as a whole is conditioned. So, what am I to do? I hope I am making the problem clear? If I may put it differently, can my mind, the conscious as well as the unconscious, be free of society? - society being all the education, the culture, the norm, the values, the standards. Because if it is not free, then whatever change it tries to bring about within that conditioned state is still limited, and therefore no change at all. If I see the truth of that, what is the mind to do? If I say it must become quiet, then that very `becoming quiet' is part of the pattern, it is the outcome of my desire to bring about a transformation at a different level. So, can I look, without any motive? Can my mind exist without any incentive, without any motive to change or not to change? Because, any motive is the outcome of the reaction of a particular culture, is born out of a particular background. So, can my mind be free from the given culture in which I have been brought up? This is really quite an important question. Because if the mind is not free from the culture in which it has been reared, nurtured, surely the individual can never be at peace, can never have freedom. His gods and his myths, his symbols and all his endeavours are limited, for they are still within the field of the conditioned mind. Whatever efforts he makes, or does not make, within that limited field, are really futile, in the deepest sense of that word. There may be a better decoration of the prison, - more light, more windows, better food, - but it is still the prison of a particular culture. So, can the mind, realizing the totality of itself, not just the superficial layers or certain depths, - can the mind come to that state when transformation is not the result of a conscious or unconscious effort? If that question is clear, then the reaction to the problem arises, - how is one to reach such a state? Surely the very question "how?" is another barrier? Because the `how' implies the search for, and practice of, a certain system, a method, the `steps' towards that fundamental, deep, inevitable transformation at a new level. You understand? The `how' implies the desire to reach, the urge to achieve; and that very attempt to be something is the product of our society, which is acquisitive, which is envious. So we are caught again. So, what is the mind to do? I see the importance of change. And I see that any change at any level of the conscious or unconscious mind is no change at all. If I really understand that, if I have grasped the truth of it - that so long as there is the maker of the effort, the thinker, the `I' trying to achieve a result, there must be a division, and hence the desire to bring about an abridgment, an integration between the two, which involves conflict, - if I see the truth?f that, then, what happens? Here is the problem: Do I see that any effort I make within the field of thinking, conscious as well as unconscious, must entail a separation, a duality, and therefore conflict? If I see the truth of that, then what happens? Then, have I, has the conscious or unconscious mind, to do anything? Please, this is not some oriental philosophy of doing nothing, or going into some kind of mysterious trance. On the contrary, this requires a great deal of thought, penetration, and inquiry. One cannot come to it unless one has gone through the whole process of understanding the conscious as well as the unconscious, not by merely saying "Well, I won't think, and then things will happen". Things won't happen. That is why it is very important to have self-knowledge. Not self-knowledge according to some philosopher or some psychoanalyst, great or little, - that is mere imitation, it is like reading a book and trying to be that book; that is not self-knowledge. Self-knowledge is actually discovering in oneself the process of one's thinking, fee] ing, motives, responses, - the actual state in which we are, not a desired state. That is why it is very important to have self-knowledge, - of whatever we are, ugly, good, bad, beautiful, joyous, the whole of it, - to know one's superficial conditioning as well as the deeper unconscious conditioning of centuries of tradition, of urges, compulsions, imitations, - to know, to actually experience the whole totality through self-knowledge. Then I think we will find that the conscious as well as the unconscious mind no longer makes any movement to achieve a change; but a change comes about, a transformation comes about, at a totally different level, - at a height, a depth, which the conscious as well as the unconscious mind can never touch. The transformation must begin there, not at the conscious or unconscious level which is the product of a culture. That is why it is very important to be free of society, through self-knowledge. And I think then, when this whole process of recognition by society has ceased, when the mind is no longer concerned with reform of any kind, - then there is a radical transformation which the conscious or the unconscious mind cannot t-ouch, and from that transformation a different society, a different state, can be brought about. But that state, that society, cannot be conceived of, - it must come from the depths of self-discovery. So it seems to me that what is important is this inquiry into the `self', the `me', and to know the self as it is, with its ambitions, envies, aggressive demands, deceptions, the division as the high and the low, - to uncover it, so that not only the conscious mind is revealed but also the unconscious, the storehouse of past tradition, the centuries of deposits of all kinds of experiences. Knowing the totality of that is the ending of it. Then the mind, not being concerned with society, with recognition, with reformation, even with the changing of itself, finds that there is a change, that there is a transforma- tion, which is not the outcome of a purposeful effort to produce a result. Question: I am an artist, and very much concerned with the technique of painting. Is it possible that this very concern hinders the true creative expression? Krishnamurti: I wonder why most of us, including the artist, are so concerned with technique? We are all asking "How?" - how am I to be more happy, how am I to find God, how am I to be a better artist, how am I to do this or that? We are all concerned with the `how'. I am violent, I want to know how to be non-violent. Being so concerned with technique, and as the world offers nothing but that, we are caught in it. We pursue the technique because we want results. I want to be a great artist, engineer, musician, I want to achieve fame, notoriety. My ambition drives me to seek the method. Can an artist, or any human being, if he is pursuing a technique, really be an artist? Whereas, if one loves the very thing one is doing, then is one not an artist? But we do not understand what that word means. Can I love a thing for itself, for its own sake, if I am ambitious, if I want to be known? If I want to be the best painter, the best poet, the greatest saint, if I am seeking a result, can I then really love a thing for itself? If I am envious, if I am imitative, if there is any fear; any competition, can I love that which I am doing? If I love a thing, then I can learn the technique, - how to mix colour; or what you will. But now, we do not have this sense of real love of a thing. We are full of ambition, envy; we want to be a success. And so, we are learning techniques, and losing the real thing, - not losing it, because we have never had it. At present our whole mind is given to acquiring a technique which we get us somewhere. If I love what I am doing, surely then there is no problem, there is no competition, is there? I am doing what I want to do, - not because it gives me any publicity, to me that is not important. What is important is to totally love what one is doing, and that very love is then the guide. If the parent wants his son to follow in his footsteps, to be something, if the parents try to fulfil themselves in their children, then there is no love; it is merely self-projection. The very love of the child will bring its own culture, will it not? But unfortunately we do not think in these ways. And so there is this whole problem, this astonishing development of technique. Question: I am entirely occupied with the ordinary cares, joys and sorrows of daily life. I am quite aware that my mind is exclusively taken up with action, reaction, and motive, but I cannot go beyond these. Since reading your books and hearing you speak I see that there is another and a completely different way of living, but I cannot find the key which will unlock the door of my cramped, narrow abode, and lead me into freedom. What am I to do? Krishnamurti: I wonder if we are aware what our minds are occupied with! As the questioner says, the mind is only occupied with superficial things, - earning a livelihood, parenthood, all the rest of it. But do we know what our mind is occupied with at a deeper level? Apart from the daily occupations, do we know what our mind is occupied with at a different level, the unconscious? Or, are our conscious minds so occupied during the day, all the time, that, we do not know what the unconscious is occupied with? Are we aware what we are occupied with, apart from the daily routine, daily existence? For most of us, our occupation is with the daily process of, living, and we are concerned with how to bring about a change in that, a better adjustment, more happiness, less of this and more of that. To hold on to superficial happiness,to put away certain things that cause us pain, to avoid certain stresses, strains, to adjust ourselves to certain relationships, and so on,that is our whole occupation. Now, can we let that occupation alone,let it go on, on the surface, and find out deep down what our mind is unconsciously occupied with? We all see that there must be some kind of adjustment on the surface; but are we concerned with the deeper occupation of the mind? Do I know, and do you know, what the deeper mind is occupied with? Surely we should find out, because that occupation may translate itself into the superficial occupations and adjustments with their joys and sorrows, their miseries and trials. So unless you and I know the deeper occupations of the mind, mere alteration at the surface has very little meaning. Surely all superficial occupation must come to an end? If my mind is occupied all the time with superficial adjustments, putting the picture straight which someone else has made askew, always concerned about the things of the home, about my children, about my wife, about what society thinks and doesn't think, about my neighbour's opinion, and so on, can that mind, which is already occupied, discover the deeper occupation of itself? Or, must not the superficial occupation come to an end? That is, can we let it go on, adjust itself without force, but also inquire deeply into what our mind is occupied with at a deeper level? What is it occupied with at a deeper level? Do you and I know? Or do we merely conjecture about it, or think someone else can tell us? Surely I cannot find out unless I am not totally occupied with the superficial adjustments. That is, there must be release from the superficial, to find out. But we dare not release, we dare not let go, because we do not know what is below, we are frightened, we are scared. That is why most of us are occupied. Deep down there may be complete loneliness, a sense of deep frustration, fear, agonizing ambition, or what you will, - for of that we are not fully conscious. But being a little conscious, or being slightly aware, we are frightened of all that. So we are concerned with the room, the pictures, the lampshades, who comes and goes, the parties; we read books, listen to the radio, join groups, - you know, the whole wretched business. All that may be an escape from the deeper issue. And to examine the deeper issue, there must be the letting go of the room, and the contents of the room. Unfortunately, we want the room, and the discovery of the other is something we never allow ourselves to experience. It is not a question of trying to reach the deeper level. Trying is always a question of time. If I want to inquire into the deeper issue, and I see the necessity of letting the superficial things alone, then there is no trying. I do not try to open the door and consciously make a move to get out of the house. I know I must get out, and I get out, - the door is there. There is no attempt to reach that door; you are not thinking in terms of trying. Understanding and action are simultaneous. But such integration cannot take place if you are merely concerned with the surface level. Question: Is there any real significance in dreams? What happens during sleep? Krishnamurti: I think it would be good if we could go into this question very deeply. So, if I may suggest, do not merely listen to the description, but actually experience what is being said. Then perhaps we can go together into the significance of this whole process of sleeping and dreaming. During the day, the waking hours, we are so occupied with our worries, with our miseries, with our little joys, the job, the livelihood, the passing fashions and all the rest of it, that we never receive any intimation, any hint of the deeper things; the superficial mind is too busy, too active. So when we sleep we begin to dream; and you can see that the dreams take various forms. various symbols, which contain the intimations, the hints. Then, realizing that these dreams have some kind of significance, we seek interpretations, in order to translate them into our daily life. So the interpreter becomes very important. and we gradually begin to depend on others, psychologically. Or else we interpret for ourselves, according to our own likes and dislikes; and so again we are caught. Is it possible not to dream at all? The expert psychologists say it is impossible, - that though we may not remember it, there is always a dream process going on. But can I, can you and I, receive the intimations, the hints, in the waking hours, during the day, when the mind is alert? - at least, supposed to be alert. That is, can my mind not let a single thought go by, - please listen, - not let a single thought go by without knowing all the contents of that thought? Which does not mean I must be so concentrated that I will not let one thought escape me; you cannot be so concentrated. Thought will escape you; but there will be other thoughts. So, can one play with a thought, - I'm using the word `play' deliberately, - and find out the whole content of it? - the motive, the reaction, and the further reaction of that motive. Which means, to have no condemnation of that thought, no justification, no comparison, no evaluation, but just to observe that thought as it arises. Can we watch each thought, as it goes by, so that the mind becomes aware of the depths of each thought, and begins to purgate itself of all the contents of its own thoughts? - and there are not very many thoughts, either. And, when the mind has finished watching thought, pursuing thought, then can it invite thought? So that all the thoughts that are hidden, accumulated in the dark, can be brought out, examined, looked at, gone into, - again, without condemnation, without evaluation, - just looked at, so as to know the whole business of it. I am not describing a method. Please do not translate this as a method to empty the mind so as not to dream. Because all dreams, as we said, are mere intimations, hints, which will become unnecessary if during the waking consciousness we are extraordinarily alert, alive, aware of all the inward things. Then what happens when one does go to sleep? As the conscious mind has uncovered all the unconscious intimations, hints, warnings, and gone deeply into the unconscious during the day, it has become fatigued and quiet. So there is no contradiction, no conflict, between the conscious and the unconscious; there is a quietude. Then the mind can go beyond, can reach something which the conscious and unconscious mind can never reach. I do not know if you have ever experimented with this, just for the fun of it, - not for any result, not in order to find a state of consciousness which is not touched, corrupted, by any human being; then it becomes a bargaining, a trade.But if one can really, without any motive, just find out, then sleep has a great deal of significance. What I am saying has nothing to do with the astral plane and all that stuff, the imaginations and peculiarities of our particular conditioning; all that must obviously go. Every thing that one has acquired, learned, must totally disappear. Then only is it possible, during that state which we call sleep, for something to come into being which is not the product of our ambitions, envies, desires, and pursuits. I think it is very important to understand all this. And to understand it one must have self-knowledge,how the mind works during the day, it's motives, it's actions and reactions,so that at the end of the day the conscious mind becomes very quiet. Then, the contradiction between the conscious and the unconscious having been understood, the mind becomes really still,not made still. The mind that is made still is a dead mind, a corrupt mind. But the mind that is still through understanding, the mind that to stillness because of self-knowledge, such a mind in sleep can perhaps reach something,or rather, some thing else can reach the mind which the mind itself cannot pursue. Then, it seems to me, such a sleep has significance in the waking hours. But that requires great delving, and not clinging to anything that one has discovered. Because if you are tied to your own knowledge, or to the knowledge of others you cannot go very far. There must be the dying to everything that one has accumulated, to every experience that one has rejoiced in or put aside. It is only then that something is beyond the mind can touch it. June 24, 1955. LONDON 5TH PUBLIC TALK 25TH JUNE 1955 One of our problems, it seems to me, amongst so many others, is this dependence,dependence on people for our happiness, dependence on capacity, the dependence that leads the mind to cling to something. And the question is, can the mind ever be totally free from all dependence? I think that is a fundamental question and one which we should be constantly asking ourselves. Obviously, superficial dependence is not what we are talking about, but at the deeper level there is that psychological demand for some kind of security, for some method which will assure the mind of a state of permanency; there is the search for an idea, a relationship, that will be enduring. As this is one of our major problems, it seems to me it is very important to go into it rather deeply, and not respond superficially with an immediate reaction. Why do we depend? Psychologically, inwardly, we depend on a belief, on a system, on a philosophy, we ask another for a mode of conduct, we seek teachers who will give us a way of life which will lead us to some hope, some happiness. So we are always, are we not? searching for some kind of dependence, security. It is possible for the mind ever to free itself from this sense of dependence? Which does not mean that the mind must achieve independence, that is the only reaction to dependence. We are not talking of independence, of freedom from a particular state. If we can inquire, without the reaction of seeking freedom from a particular state of dependence, then we can go much more deeply into it. But if we are drawn away at a tangent in search of independence, we shall not understand this whole question of psychological dependence of which we are talking. We know we depend, - on our relationships with people, or on some idea, or on a system of thought. Why? We accept the necessity for dependence, we say it is inevitable. We have never questioned the whole issue at all, why each one of us seeks some kind of dependence. Is it not that we really, deep down, demand security, permanency? Being in a state of confusion, we want someone to get us out of that confusion. So, we are always concerned with how to escape, or avoid, the state in which we are. In the process of avoiding that state, we are bound to create some kind of dependence, which be, comes our authority. If we depend on another for our security, for our inward well-being, there arise out of that dependence innumerable problems; and then we try to solve those problems, - the problems of attachment. But we never question, we never go into the problem of dependence itself. Perhaps if we can really intelligently, with full awareness, go into this problem. then we may find that dependence is not the issue at all, - that it is only a way of escaping from a deeper fact. May I suggest that those who are taking notes should refrain from doing so. Because, these meetings will not be worthwhile if you are merely trying to remember what is said for afterwards. But if we can directly experience what is being said now, not afterwards, then it will have a definite significance, it will be a direct experience, - and not an experience to be gathered later through your notes and thought over in memory. Also, if I may point it out, taking notes disturbs others around you. As I was saying, what do we depend, and make dependence a problem? Actually, I do not think dependence is the problem; I think there is some other deeper factor that makes us depend. And if we can unravel that, then both dependence and the struggle for freedom will have very little significance; then all the problems which arise through dependence will wither away. So, what is the deeper issue? Is it that the mind abhors, fears, the idea of being alone? And does the mind know that state which it avoids? I depend on somebody, psychologically, inwardly, because of a state which I am trying to avoid but which I have never gone into, which I have never examined. So, my dependence on a person - for love, for encouragement, for guidance - becomes immensely important, as do all the many problems that arise from it. Whereas, if I am capable of looking at the factor that is making me depend, - on a person, on God, on prayer, on some rapacity, on some formula or conclusion which I call a belief, - then perhaps I can discover that such dependence is the result of an inward demand which I have never really looked at, never considered. Can we, this evening, look at that factor? - the factor which the mind avoids, that sense of complete loneliness with which we are superficially familiar. What is it to be lonely? Can we discuss that now and keep to that issue, and not introduce any other problem? I think this is really very important. Because so long as that loneliness is not really understood, felt, penetrated, dissolved, -whatever word you may like to use, - so long as that sense of loneliness remains, dependence is inevitable, and one can never be free, one can never find out for oneself that which is true, that which is religion. While I de&nd, there must be authority, there must be imitation, there must be various forms of compulsion, regimentation, and discipline to a certain pattern. So, can my mind find out what it is to be lonely, and go beyond it? - so that the mind is set totally free and therefore does not depend on beliefs, on gods, on systems, on prayers, or on anything else. Surely, so long as we are seeking a result, an end, an ideal, that very urge to find creates dependence, from which arise the problems of envy, exclusion, isolation, and all the rest of it. So can my mind know the loneliness in which it actually is, though I may cover it up with knowledge, with relationship, amusement, and various other forms of distraction? Can I really understand that loneliness? Because, is it not one of our major problems, this attachment and the struggle to be detached? Can we talk this over together, or is that too impossible? So long as there is attachment, dependence, there must be exclusion. The dependence on nationality, identification with a particular group, with a particular race. with a particular person or belief, obviously separates. So it may be that the mind is constantly seeking exclusion, as a separate entity, and is avoiding a deeper issue which is actually separative, - the self-enclosing process of its own thinking, which breeds loneliness. You know the feeling that one must identify oneself as being a Hindu, a Christian, belonging to a certain caste, group, race, - you know the whole business. If we can, each of us, understand the deeper issue involved, then perhaps alI influence which breeds dependence will come to an end, and the mind be wholly free. Perhaps this may be too difficult a problem to discuss, in such a large group? Audience: Can you define the word `alone', in contrast to `loneliness'? Krishnamurti: Please - we are surely not seeking definitions, are we? We are asking if each one of us is aware of this loneliness? -not now, perhaps, but we know of that state, and we know, do we not?, that we are escaping from this state through various means and so multiplying our problems. Now can I, through awareness, burn away the root of the problem? - so that it will never again arise, or if it does. I will know how to deal with it without causing further problems. Audience: Does that mean we have to break unsatisfactory bonds? Krishnamurti: Surely that is not what we are discussing, is it? I do not think we are following each other. And that is why I am hesitant as to whether it is possible to discuss this problem in so large a group. We know. do we not?, that we are attached. We depend on people, on ideas. It is part of our nature, our being, to depend on somebody. And that dependence is called love. Now I am asking myself, and perhaps you also are asking yourselves, whether it is possible to free the mind. Psychologically, inwardly, from all dependence. Because I see that through dependence many, many problem; arise, - there is never an ending to them. Therefore I ask myself, is it possible to be so aware that the very awareness totally burns away this feeing of dependence on another, or on an idea, so that the mind is no longer exclusive, no longer isolated, because the demand for dependence has totally ceased? For example, I depend on identification with a particular group; it satisfies me to call myself a Hindu or a Christian; to belong to a particular nationality is very satisfactory. In myself I feel dwarfed. I am a nobody, so to call myself somebody gives me satisfaction. That is a form of dependence at a very superficial level, perhaps; but it breeds the poison of nationalism. And there are so many other deeper forms of dependence. Now, can I go beyond all that, so that the mind will never depend psychologically, so that it has no dependence at all, and does not seek any form of security? It will not seek security if I can understand this sense of extraordinary exclusion, of which I am aware, and which I call loneliness, - thus self-enclosing process of thinking which breeds isolation. So the problem is not how to be detached, how to free oneself from people or ideas, but, can the mind stop this process of enclosing itself through its own activities, through its demands, through its urges? So long as there is the idea of the `me', the `I', there must be loneliness. The very essence, the ultimate self-enclosing process, is the discovery of this extraordinary sense of loneliness. Can I burn that away, so that the mind never seeks any form of security, never demands? This can only be answered, not by me, but by each one of us. I can only describe; but the description becomes merely a hindrance if it is not actually experienced. But if it reveals the process of your own thinking, then that very description is an awareness of yourself and of your own state. Then, can I remain in that state? Can I no longer wander away from the fact of loneliness. but remain there, without any escape, without any avoidance? Seeing, understanding, that dependence is not the problem but loneliness is, can my mind remain without any movement in that state which I have called loneliness? It is extraordinarily difficult, because the mind can never be with a fact; it either translates it, interprets it. or does something about the fact; it never is with the fact. Now, if the mind can remain with the fact, without giving any opinion about the fact, without translating, without condemning, without avoiding it, then, is the fact different from the mind? Is there a division between the fact and the mind, or is the mind itself the fact? For example, I am lonely. I am aware of that, I know what it means; it is one of the problems of our daily existence, of our existence altogether. And I want to tackle for myself this question of dependence, and see if the mind can be really free, - not just speculatively or theoretically or philosophically, but actually be free of dependence. Because, if I depend on another for my love, it is not love; And I want to find out what that state is which we call love. In trying to find it out, obviously all sense of dependence, security in relationship, all sense of demand. desire for permanency, may go; and I may have to face something entirely different. So in inquiring, in going within myself, I may come upon this thing called loneliness. Now, can I remain with that? I mean, by `remain', not interpreting it, not evaluating it, not condemning it, but just observing that state of loneliness without any withdrawal. Then, if my mind can remain with that state, is that state different from my mind? It may be that my mind itself is lonely, empty, -and not that there is a state of emptiness which the mind observes. My mind observes loneliness, and avoids it, runs away from it. But if I do not run away from it, is there a division, is there a separation, is there an observer watching loneliness? Or, is there only a state of loneliness, my mind itself being empty, lonely? -not, that there is an observer who knows that there is loneliness. I think this is important to grasp,swiftly, not verbalizing too much. We say now "I am envious, and I want to get rid of envy", so there is an observer and the observed; the observer wishes to get rid of that which he observes. But is the observer not the same as the observed? It is the mind itself that has created the envy, and so the mind cannot do anything about envy. So, my mind observes loneliness; the thinker is aware that he is lonely But by remaining with it, being fully in contact, which is, not to run away from it, not to translate and all the rest of it, then, is there a difference between the observer and the observed? Or is there only one state, which is, the mind itself is lonely, empty? Not that the mind observes itself as being empty, but mind itself is empty. Then, can the mind, being aware that it itself is empty, and that whatever its endeavour, any movement away from that emptiness is merely an escape, a dependence, can the mind put away all dependence and be what it is, completely empty, completely lonely? And if it is in that state, is there not freedom from all dependence, from all attachment? Please, this is a thing that must be gone into, not accepted because I am saying it. It has no meaning of you merely accept it. But if you are experiencing the thing as we are going along, then you will see that any movement being evaluation, condemnation, translation, and so on, is a distraction from the fact of `what is', a so creates a conflict between itself and the observed. This is really to go further a question of whether the mind can ever be without effort, without duality, without conflict, and therefore be free. The moment the mind is caught in conflict it is not free. When there is no effort to be, then there is freedom. So can the mind be without effort, and therefore free? Question: I am now able to accept problems on my own behalf. But how can I stop myself suffering on my children's behalf, when they are affected by the same problems? Krishnamurti; Why do we depend on our children? And also, do we love our children? If it is love, then how can there be dependence, how can there be suffering? Our idea of love is that we suffer for others. Is it love that suffers? Or is it that I depend on my children, that through them I am seeking immortality, fulfilment, and all the rest of it? So I want my children to be something; and when they are not that, I suffer. The problem may not be the children at all, it may be me. Again we come back to the same thing,perhaps we do not know what it is to love. If we did love our children, we would stop all wars tomorrow, obviously. We would not condition our children. They would not be Englishmen, Hindus, Brahmins, and non-Brahmins; they would be children. But we do not love, and therefore we depend on our children; through them we hope to fulfil ourselves. So when the child, through whom we are going to fulfil, does something which is not what we demand, then there is sorrow, then there is conflict. Merely putting a question and waiting for an answer has very little meaning. But if we can observe for ourselves the process of attachment, the process of seeking fulfilment through another, which is dependence and which must inevitably create sorrow,if we can see that as a fact for ourselves, then there may be something else, perhaps love. Then that relationship will produce quite a different society, quite a different world. Question: When one has reached the stage of a quiet mind, and has no immediate problem, what proceeds from that stillness? Krishnamurti: Quite an extraordinary question, is it not? You have taken it for granted that you have reached that still mind, and you want to know what happens after it. But to have a still mind is one of the most difficult things. Theoretically, it is the easiest; but factually, it is one of the most extraordinary states, which cannot be described. What happens you will discover when you come to it. But that coming to it is the problem, not what happens after. You cannot come to that state. It is not a process. It is not something which you are going to achieve through a practice. It cannot be bought through time, through knowledge, through discipline, but only by understanding knowledge. by understanding the whole process of discipline, by understanding the total process of one's own thinking, and not trying to achieve a result. Then, perhaps, that quietness may come into being. What happens afterwards is indescribable, it has no word and it has no `meaning'. You see, every experience so long as there is an experiencer, leaves a memory, a scar. And to that memory the mind clings, and it wants more, and so breeds time. But the state of stillness is timeless, therefore there is no experiencer to experience that stillness. Please, this is really, if you wish to understand it, very important. So long as there is an experiencer who says "I must experience stillness", and knows the experience, then it is not stillness; it is a trick of the mind. When one says "I have experienced stillness", it is just an avoidance of confusion, of conflict, - that is all. The stillness of which we are talking is something totally different. That is why it is very important to understand the thinker, the experiencer, the self that demands a state which it calls stillness. You may have a moment of stillness, but when you do, the mind clings to it, and lives in that stillness in memory. That is not stillness, that is merely a reaction. What we are talking of is something entirely different. It is a state in which there is no experiencer: and therefore such silence. quietness, is not an experience. If there is an entity who remembers that state, then there is an experiencer, therefore it is no longer that state. This means really, to die to every experience, with never a moment of gathering, accumulating. After all, it is this accumulation that brings about conflict, the desire to have more. A mind that is accumulating, greedy, can never die to everything it has accumulated. It is only the mind that has died to everything it has accumulated, even to its highest experience, - only such a mind can know what that silence is. But that state cannot come about through discipline, because discipline implies the continuation of the experiencer, the strengthening of a particular intention towards a particular object, thereby giving the experiencer continuity. If we see this thing very simply, very clearly, then we will find that silence of the mind of which we are talking. What happens after that is something that cannot be told, that cannot be described, because it has no `meaning', - except in books and philosophy. Audience: If we have not experienced that complete stillness, how can we know that it exists? Krishnamurti: Why do we want to know that it exists? It may not exist at all, it may be my illusion, a fancy. But one can see that so long as there is conflict, life is a misery. In understanding conflict, I will know what the other means. It may be an illusion, an invention, a trick of the mind, - but in understanding the full significance of conflict I may find something entirely different. My mind is concerned with the conflict within itself and without. Conflict inevitably arises so long as there is an experiencer who is accumulating who is gathering, and therefore always thinking in terms of time, of the more and the less. In understanding that, in being aware of that, there may come a state which may be called silence, - give it any name you like. But the process is not the search for silence, for stillness, but rather the understanding of conflict. the understanding of myself in conflict. I wonder if I have answered the question? - which is, how do I know that there is silence? How do I recognize it? You understand? So long as there is a process of recognition, there is no silence. After all, the process of recognition is the process of the conditioned mind. But in understanding the whole content of the conditioned mind, then the mind itself becomes quiet, there is observer to recognize that he is in a state which he calls silence. Recognition of an experience has ceased. Audience: I would like to ask if you recognize the teaching of the Buddha that right understanding will help to solve the inner problems of man, and that inner peace of the mind depends entirely on self-discipline. Do you agree with the teachings of Buddha? Krishnamurti: If one is inquiring to find out the truth of anything, all authority must be set aside, surely. There is neither the Buddha nor the Christ when one wishes to find what is true. Which means, really, the mind must be capable of being completely alone, and not dependent. The Buddha may be wrong, Christ may be wrong, and one may be wrong oneself. One must come to the state, surely, of not accepting any authority of any kind. That is the first thing, - to dismantle the structure of authority. In dismantling the immense structure of tradition, that very process brings about an understanding. But merely to accept something because it has been said in a sacred book has very little meaning. Surely, to find that which is beyond time, all the process of time must cease, must it not? The very process of search must come to an end. Because if I am seeking, then I depend, - not only on another, but also on my own experience; for if I have learned something, I try to use that to guide myself. To find what is true, there must be no search of any kind, - and that is the real stillness of the mind. It is very difficult for a person who has been brought up in a particular culture, in a particular belief, with certain symbols of tremendous authority, to set aside all that and to think simply for himself and find out. He cannot think simply if he does not know himself, if there is no self-knowledge. And no one can give us self-knowledge, - no teacher, no book, no philosophy, no discipline. The self is in constant movement; as it lives, it must be understood. And only through self-knowledge, through understanding the process of my own thinking, obsessed in the mirror of every reaction, do I find out that so long as there is any movement of the `me', of the mind, towards anything, - towards God, towards truth, towards peace, - then such a mind is not a quiet mind, it is still wanting to achieve, to grasp, to come to some state. If there is any form of authority, any compulsion, any imitation, the mind cannot understand. And to know that the mind imitates, to know that it is crippled by tradition, to be aware that it is pursuing its own experiences, its own projections, - that demands a great deal of insight, a great deal of awareness, of self-knowledge. Only then, with the whole content of the mind, the whole consciousness, unravelled and understood, is there a possibility of a state which may be called stillness, - in which there is no experiencer, no recognition. June 25, 1955 LONDON 6TH PUBLIC TALK 26TH JUNE 1955 I think it is important to find out for oneself what it is that we are seeking, and why we are seeking it. If we can go into this rather deeply I think we will discover a great many things involved in it. Most of us are seeking some kind of fulfillment. Being discontented, we want to find contentment, - either in some relationship, or by fulfilling certain capacities, or by searching for some kind of action that will be completely satisfying. Or, if we are not of that disposition, then we generally seek what we think is the truth, God, and so on. Most of us are seeking, searching; and if we could each find out for ourselves what it is that we are seeking, and why we seek, I think it would reveal a great deal. Being discontented with ourselves, with our environment, with our activities, our particular job, most of us want a better job, a better position, a better understanding, wider activities, a more satisfying philosophy, a capacity that will be entirely gratifying. Outwardly, that is what we want; and when that does not satisfy us we go a little deeper, we pursue philosophy, go in for reform, gather together in various groups to discuss, and so on; and still there is discontent. It seems to me that it is important to find out whether the motive for our search is to understand discontent, or to find satisfaction. Because if it is satisfaction that we are seeking, at any level, then obviously our minds become very petty. Whereas there may perhaps be a discontent without an object, discontent in itself, which is not the urge to achieve a result, to get somewhere. I think that most of us, being dissatisfied in our relationships, in our ways of life, in our attitudes, in the values that we have, are trying to shake them all off and find a different set of values, different relationships, different ideas, different beliefs; but behind it all there is this urge ta be satisfied. I think it would be important if we could find out for ourselves whether there is such a thing as a discontent which has no motive, which is not the outcome of some frustration; because that very discontent without motive may be the quality that is necessary. At present when we seek, our search is the outcome of dissatisfaction, discontent, and our motive is to find gratification in some form or another. Especially when we talk about, truth or God, we are, are we not?, seeking some state of mind which will be completely satisfying. Whether the mind is extensive,clever, has much capacity or little, if it is seeking satisfaction - however subtle - then its gods, its virtues, its philosophies, its values, are bound to be petty, small, shallow. So, is it possible for the mind to be free of all search? Which means, really, to be free of that discontent which has the motive of finding satisfaction. Because however clever the mind is, however intelligent, and whatever virtues it has cultivated, surely if it is merely seeking gratification in any form it is incapable of grasping what is true. Surely all the thinking process is petty, is very limited. After all, thinking is the result of accumulated memory, of association, of experience, according to our conditioning; thinking is the reaction of that memory, thinking is the response of a conditioned mind. When that conditioning creates dissatisfaction, then any outcome of that dissatisfaction is surely still conditioned. Our search remains so utterly futile while it is based on a discontent which is merely the reaction to a particular conditioning. If one sees that, then the question arises as to whether there is any other form of discontent, - whether there is a discontent which is not canalized, which has no motive, which is not seeking a fulfilment. It may be that discontent without any motive, the discontent which is not the response to a conditioning, is the one essential. At present our thinking, our search, has a motive, and that motive is based on our demand to find some permanent state of complete satisfaction where there will be no disturbance of any kind, - which we call peace, which we call God or truth; and all our purpose in seeking is to gain that state. So, search for most of us is based on the demand for satisfaction, the demand for a state of permanency in which we shall never be disturbed. And can such a mind, thinking from a motive of finding satisfaction, ever discover what is true? It seems to me that one must understand for oneself the whole process of why one seeks, and not be satisfied by any chosen word, by any chosen end or target, however ennobling, inspiring, or ideal it may seem. Because surely, the very way of the self, the `me', is this constant process of discontent directed towards a fulfilment; that is all we know. When there is no fulfilment, there is frustration; and then come the many problems of how to overcome that frustration. So, the mind seeks a state in which there will be no frustration, no sorrow. Therefore our very search for so-called `truth' may be merely the fulfilment, the expansion, of the self, of the `me'. And so we are caught in this vicious circle. If one is aware of all this, completely, totally, then there is no sense of fulfilment in any belief, in any dogma, in any activity, or in any particular state. The search for fulfilment implies sorrow, frustration; and seeing the truth of that, the mind then is no longer seeking. I think there is a difference between the attention which is given to an object, and attention without object. We can concentrate on a particular idea, belief, object, - which is an exclusive process; and there is also an attention, an awareness, which is not exclusive. Similarly, there is a discontent which has no motive, which is not the outcome of some frustration, which cannot be canalized, which cannot accept any fulfilment. Perhaps I may not be using the right word for it, but I think that that extraordinary discontent is the essential. Without that, every other form of discontent merely becomes a way to satisfaction. So can the mind, being aware of itself, knowing its own ways of thinking, put an end to this demand for self-fulfilment? And, when that comes to an end, can one remain without seeking and be completely in a state of void, with neither hope nor fear? Must not one arrive at that state when there is complete cessation of all seeking? - for then only is it possible for something to take place which is not the product of the mind. After all, our thinking is the result of time, of many yesterdays; and through time, which is thinking, we are trying to find something which is beyond time. We are using the mind, the instrument of time, to find something which cannot be measured. So can the mind totally cease, for something else to take place? Which does not mean, surely, a state of amnesia, a state of blankness, a state of thoughtlessness. On the contrary, it requires a great deal of alertness, an awareness in which there is no object nor an entity who is aware. I think this is important to understand. At present when we are aware, simply, daily, there is in that awareness condemnation, judgment, evaluation; that is our normal awareness. When we look at a picture, immediately the whole process of condemnation, comparison, evaluation, is taking place; and we never see the picture, because the screen of the evaluating process has come between. Can one look at that picture without any evaluation, without any comparison? Similarly, can I look at myself whatever I am, all the mistakes, a miseries, failures, sorrows, joys, and see it all without evaluation, just be aware of it, without introducing the screen of condemnation or comparison? If the mind is capable of doing this, then we will find that that very awareness burns away the root of any particular problem. When the mind is so aware, so totally aware, then there is no search; the mind is no longer comparing seeking satisfaction, thinking in terms of achievement. Then, is not the mind itself timeless? So long as the mind is comparing, condemning, judging, is conditioned, then it is in time; but when all that has totally ceased then is not the mind itself that state which may be called the eternal? In that there is no observer, no experiencer who has associations, who has memories, who is seeking, - which is all the product of time. So long as the experiencer is seeking, trying to fulfil, trying to gather experience, more knowledge, trying to find vaster fields in which to live, he is creating time, and whatever his actions are they will always be in the field of time. That which is measureless can never be found by the experiencer, by the seeker. It is only in that state in which the mind is no longer seeking, when the mind is not cultivating, through search, an end to be achieved, - only then is it possible for reality to come into being. Question: I am very interested in what you are saying, and feel full of enthusiasm. What can I actually do about it? Krishnamurti: Enthusiasm soon fails. If you are merely inspired by what is being said, that inspiration will disappear, and you will seek another form of inspiration, or another sensation. But if what is being said is part of your own discovery, the result of your own inward inquiry, then it is yours, it is not another's. But if it is another's, then you have the whole complicated, tiresome, corroding process of building authority and worshipping authority. If you have listened, and if you have understood, then naturally you will do something about it; Aut if you are merely enthusiastic, `inspired', then you will join groups, form societies, organizations, - which will become another hindrance. After all, what is it that we are talking about? I am not saying anything new. We are only trying to understand how to observe the whole process of consciousness,that which we are. To understand oneself there must be self-knowledge, an awareness in which there is no condemnation, comparison, judgment,just the capacity to be aware, to know the way of our thought, the way of the self; and that needs no authority, surely. It is for you, as an individual, to find out for yourself. The difficulty is that we want encouragement, we want companionship, we want to be told that we are doing very well, we want to meet others thinking along the same lines, which are all distractions. This is something that must be done entirely by yourself. You will find, if I may suggest, as you go deeper and deeper into the whole issue, that you will discover for yourself a state which will act of its own accord, you do not have to do anything. If you discover something real, that truth will operate itself. But we want to do something about it. So we begin to condition ourselves further by every kind of experience, in order to satisfy our own particular vanity through action. But I think there is an activity which comes into being that is not the result of hearing a few talks or reading some books; it is an activity which comes into being because you yourself have experienced a state beyond the mind. But if you cling to that experience and try to act from it, because you think you have understood something, then it becomes your own impediment. Question: How can we have peace in this world? Krishnamurti: First of all let us see if anybody can give us peace. Politicians cannot give peace. There will be no peace while there are nationalists, while there are armies, separate governments, barriers of belief, barriers of religion,at least, so-called religion. There may be peace through terror, but surely that is not peace. Peace is something entirely different, is it not? Peace is the cessation of inward violence,that violence which expresses itself through ambition, through competition. And, are you and I willing to give up our ambitions? To be as nothing? Peace is a state of mind, is it not?, which cannot be bought. And how is one to come to this inward sense of peace? Not through self-hypnosis, not by saying "I will be peaceful", and practicing the virtue of non-violence. That is merely a process of hypnotizing oneself into a certain state. So one can actually, inwardly psychologically, put aside all nationality,all sense of ambition, all sense of comparing oneself with somebody else?for all those things breed violence and envy, Only then is it possible, surely to have a world that can be called ours. It is not our world now. Western civilization is opposed to Eastern civilization, and there is either the English world or the American world of the Communist world and so on. It is not our world, yours and mine, to live in. And that world of ours cannot come into being if any one of us has any sense of nationality, any sense of competition, of trying to achieve a result, becoming something. So long as I am trying to become something there is violence,which expresses itself in competition, in ruthlessness. So is it not possible for you and me, actually, not theoretically, to be as nothing, not as an escape be- cause my ambitions have not been fulfilled and therefore I try to become nothing, or because I have no opportunities for my capacities and therefore I try to become peaceful, but because I understand the whole process, the inward nature, of violence. If I love something for itself there is no need for competition is there? It love what I am doing, not because of what it is going to bring me, the reward, the punishment, the achievement, the notoriety, and all the rest of it, but for its own sake, then all sense of competition has been rooted out of me, because I am no longer concerned with who is greater and who is less. Because we do not think in these terms, we have violence. There may be pacts, legislation perhaps, which will bring superficial peace; but inwardly we are seeking inwardly we are competing, struggling, trying to express ourselves to be something. And so long as that violence exists there will be no peace, do what you will. To have peace there must be deep understanding of the ways of the self, the me that is competing, trying to become something. It is very difficult to understand that and to let go of it. All our tradition, all our education, our social culture, everything, as conditioned us to be something, and we think that if we are nothing we shall be destroyed. In fact, we e destroying ourselves because we are trying to be something, either as group, an individual, a nation, or a class; that is what is actually happening. We are destroying ourselves because we all demand to be something. But if we can understand the whole process of this urge to be something, Then perhaps, in being nothing, we may find a different way of living, which may be the only true way. But this requires a total revolution, - not the communist, or any other kind of outward revolution, but a complete inward revolution, in which there is no division as your religion and my religion, your belief and my belief. Then this is our world, to live in. From that feeling that the world is ours, a totally different kind of culture, of government, of power, can come into being. Question: You say that if one thinks out completely a thought that arises, it will not take root, and one is therefore free of it. But even when I have done so to the best of my ability, the thought crops up again. How then can I deal with it? Krishnamurti: You try to think out a thought completely because you want to get rid of it, do you not? Is that not the reason why you try to think out a thought completely? For the questioner says, "I cannot get rid of it, it recurs again and again". So he is concerned with getting rid of a particular thought; that is the motive of his examination. Therefore he is not thinking it out completely at all because all he wants is to be rid of a particular thought which is tiresome which is painful. If it is pleasant, obviously he will keep it, therefore there is no problem; it is the unpleasant thought that he wants to get rid of. So that is his motive for thinking it out. And if he is concerned with a particular thought only with the idea of getting rid of it, he is already condemning it, is he not?-He merely opposes a thought with the desire to remove it. So how can - he understand the thought completely when his intention is to put it away So, what is important is not how to think out a thought completely, but to understand that you cannot think completely if there is any sense of condemnation, - which is fairly obvious, is it not? If I want to understand a child, I must study the child, I must not condemn him, I must not say "This child is better than that child", or identify myself with the child. I must watch him, - when he t is playing, when he is weeping, crying, eating, sleeping. So, can my mind watch a particular thought without naming it? Because, the very naming of a particular thought is already condemning it. This is rather a complex process, but if you will kindly listen I am sure you will get the significance of it. Let us say I am greedy, envious; and I want to understand that envy completely, not merely get rid of it. Most of us want to get rid of it, and try various ways of doing that, for various reasons; but we are never able to get rid of it, it goes on and on indefinitely. But if I really want to understand it, go to the root of it completely, then I must not condemn it, surely. The very word `envy' has a condemnatory sense, I feel; so can the mind dissociate the feeling which is called `envy' from the word? Because, the very terming, giving a name to that feeling as `envy', - with that very word I have condemned it, have I not? With the word `envy' is associated the whole psychological and religious significance of condemnation. So, can I dissociate the feeling from the word? If the mind is capable of not associating the feeling with the word, then, is there an entity, a `me', who is observing it? Because the observer is the association, surely, is the word, is the entity who is condemning it. Let us go into this a little bit more. Please, if I may suggest, watch your own minds in operation; do not listen to me merely intellectually verbally but examine any particular feeling of envy or of violence with which you are familiar, and go into it with me. Let us say, I am envious. The ordinary response to that is either justifying it, or condemning it. I am justifying when I say to myself "I am not really envious. My desire to become somebody is a part of culture, a part of my society, and without it I shall be a nobody". Or I condemn it, because I feel it is not spiritual, or for whatever reasons there may be. So, I approach that feeling which I call `envy', either justifying it or condemning it. Now, if I do neither, -which is extremely difficult, because it means I have to free the mind from all my conditioning of the past, of the culture in which I have been brought up, - if the mind is free of that, then the mind also must be free of the word, - because that very word `envy' implies condemnation. You understand? Now, my mind is made up of words, of symbols, of ideas; those symbols, ideas, words, are `me'. And can there be a feeling of envy when there is no verbalization, when there is the cessation of all that is associated with the `me', which is the very essence of envy? So, is envy ever experienced when that `me' is absent? - because that `me' is the very essence of condemnation, verbalization, comparison. To think out a thought completely, go to the very root of it, there must be an awareness in which there is no sense of condemnation, justification, and all the rest of it, nor any sense of trying to overcome a problem. Because if I am merely trying to dissolve a problem, then my attention is focussed on the dissolution of it, and not on the understanding of the problem. The problem is the way I think, the way I act; and if I condemn my way, the way I am, it obviously blocks further investigation. If I say "I must not be this and I must be that", then there is no understanding of the ways of the `me', whose very nature is envy, acquisitiveness. The question is, can I be so deeply aware, without any sense of condemnation or comparison? - for then only is it possible to think out a thought completely. Question: You appear to dismiss Yoga as useless, and I agree with you that Yoga is often practised as a method to escape from `what is'. But if we avoid the artificial fixing of the mind on a chosen object, and allow our so-called meditation to take the form of an inquiry over the whole field of `what is', without expecting any particular answer, this surely is what you recommend. Do you not think also that we may be able to do this difficult thing more easily if we have learned to quieten the body and the breathing Krishnamurti: The questioner wants to know, really, how to meditate: whether quietening the body and steadying the breath will not help in meditation, - which is the process of inquiring over the whole field of `what is' and not running away from it. So let us find out flow to meditate. Now, if you will kindly listen, without focussing your attention on any particular sentence, on any particular phrase of the answer, we can inquire together into the whole question of how to meditate. To me, the 'how' is not the problem at all. The problem is, what is meditation? If I do not know what is meditation the mere inquiry how to meditate has no significance. So my inquiry is not, how co to meditate, what method to follow, how to be aware of `what is' without escaping, how to sit quietly, how to repeat certain words and so on. We are not discussing all that. If I know what meditation is, then the question of how to meditate will not be an issue, surely. Now, what is meditation? As we do not know what meditation is, we have no idea how to begin; so we must approach it with an open mind, must we not? Do you understand; You must come to it with a free mind which says "I do not know", and not with an occupied mind which is asking "How am I to meditate?" Please, it you will really follow this, - not hold on to what I am saying but actually experience the thing as we go along, - then you will find out for yourself the significance of meditation. We have so far approached this problem with an attitude of asking how to meditate, what systems to follow, how to breathe, what kind of Yoga practices to do, and all the rest of it, - because we think we know what meditation is, and that the `how' will lead us to something. But do we know what meditation is, actually? I do not, nor, I think, do you. So we must both come to the question with a mind that says "I do not know", - though we may have read hundreds of books and practised many Yoga disciplines. You do not know actually.-You only hope, you only desire, you only want, through a particular pattern of action, of discipline, to arrive at a certain state. And that state may be utterly illusory; it may be only your own wish. And surely it is; it is your own projection, as a reaction from the daily existence of misery. So, the first essential is not how to meditate, but to find out what is meditation. Therefore the mind must come to it without knowing, - and that is extremely difficult. We are so used to thinking that a particular system is essential in order to meditate, -either the repetition of words, as prayer, or the taking of a certain posture, or fixing the mind on a particular phrase or on a picture, or breathing regularly, making the body very still, having complete control of the mind; with these things we are familiar. And we believe these things will lead us to something which we think is beyond the mind, beyond the transient process of thought. We think we already know what we want, and we are now trying to compare which is the best way. That issue of `how' to meditate is completely false. But, can I find out what meditation is? That is the real question. It is an extraordinary thing, to meditate, to know what meditation is, so let us find out. Surely meditation is not the pursuit of any system, is it? Can my mind entirely eliminate this tradition of a discipline, of a method? -which exists not only here, but also in India. That is essential, is it not? because I do not know what meditation is. I know how to concentrate, how to control, how to discipline, what to do; but I do not know what is at the end of it, I have only been told, "If you do these things, you will get it", and because I am greedy I carry out those practices. So can I, to find out what meditation is, eliminate this demand for a method? The very going into all this is meditation, is it not? I am meditating the moment I begin to inquire what is meditation, -instead of how to meditate. The moment I begin to find out for myself what is meditation, my mind, not knowing, must reject everything that it knows, - which means, I must put aside my desire to achieve a state. Because the desire to achieve is the root, the base, of my search for a method. I have known moments of peace, quietness, and a sense of `other-ness', and I want to achieve that again, to make it a permanent state, - so I pursue the `how'. I think I already know what the other state is, and that a method will lead me to it. But if I already know what the other is, then it is not what is true, it is merely a projection of my own desire. My mind, when it is really inquiring what meditation is, understands the desire to achieve, to gain a result, and so is free from it. Therefore it has completely set aside all authority; because, we do not know what meditation is, and no one can tell us. My mind is completely in a state of `not knowing', there is no method, no prayer, no repetition of words, no concentration, - because it sees that concentration is only another form of achievement. The concentration of the mind on a particular idea, hoping thereby to train itself to go further by exclusion, implies, again, a state of `knowing'. So, if I do not know, then all these things must go. I no longer think in terms of achieving, arriving. There is no longer a sense of accumulation which will help me to reach the other shore. So, when I have done that, have I not found what meditation is? There is no conflict, no struggle; there is a sense of not accumulating, - at all times, not at any particular time. So, meditation is the process of complete denudation of the mind, the purgation of all sense of accumulation and achievement, - which is the very nature of the self, the `me'. Practising various methods only strengthens that `me'. You may cover it up, you may beautify it, refine it; but it is still the `me'. So, meditation is the uncovering of the ways of the self. And you will find, if you can go deeply into it, that there is never a moment when meditation becomes a habit. For habit implies accumulation, and where there is accumulation there is the process of the self asking for more, demanding further accumulation. Such meditation is within the field of the known, and has no significance whatsoever except as a means of hypnotizing oneself. The mind can only say "I do not know", - actually, not merely verbally, - when it has wiped away, through awareness, through self-knowledge, this whole sense of accumulation. So meditation is dying to one's accumulations, - not, achieving a state of silence, of quietness. So long as the mind is capable of accumulating, then the urge is always for more. And the `more' demands the system, the method, the setting up of authority, - which are all the very ways of the self. When the mind has completely seen the fallacy of that, then it is in a constant state of `not knowing'. Such a mind can then receive that which is not measurable and which only comes into being from moment to moment. June 26, 1955 OJAI 1ST PUBLIC TALK 6TH JULY 1955 Throughout the world we have many grave problems; and even though welfare states may be created, and the politicians may bring about a superficial peace of co-existence, with economic prosperity in a country of this kind where there is booming production and the promise of a happy future, I do not think that our problems can so easily be solved. We want these problems to be solved, and we look to others to solve them: to religious teachers, to analysts, to leaders, or else we rely on tradition, or we turn to various books, philosophies. And I presume that is why you are here: to be told what to do. Or you hope that through listening to explanations you will comprehend the problems that each one of us is confronted with. But I think you will be making a grave mistake if you expect that by casually listening to one or two talks, without paying much attention, you will be guided to the comprehension of our many problems. It is not at all my intention merely to explain verbally or intellectually the problems that we are confronted with; on the contrary, what we shall attempt to do during these talks is to go much deeper into the fundamental issue which makes all these problems so complicated, so infinitely painful and sorrowful. Please have the patience to listen without being carried away by words, or objecting to one or two phrases or ideas. One must have immense patience to find out what is true. Most of us are impatient to get on, to find a result, to achieve a success, a goal, a certain state of happiness, or to experience something to which the mind can cling. But what is needed, I think, is a patience and a perseverance to seek without an end. Most of us are seeking, that is why we are here; but in our search we want to find something, a result, a goal, a state of being in which we can be happy, peaceful; so our search is already determined, is it not? When we seek, we are seeking something which we want, so our search is already established, predetermined, and therefore it is no longer a search. I think it is very important to understand this. When the mind seeks a particular state, a solution to a problem, when it seeks God, truth, or desires a certain experience, whether mystical or any other kind, it has already conceived what it wants; and because it has already conceived, formulated what it is seeking, its search is infinitely futile. And it is one of the most difficult things to free the mind from this desire to find a result. It seems to me that our many problems cannot be solved except through a fundamental revolution of the mind, for such a revolution alone can bring about the realization of that which is truth. Therefore it is important to understand the operation of one's own mind, not self-analytically or introspectively, but by being aware of its total process; and that is what I would like to discuss during these talks. If we do not see ourselves as we are, if we do not understand the thinker - the entity that seeks, that is perpetually asking, demanding, questioning, trying to find out, the entity that is creating the problem, the `I', the self, the ego - , then our thought, our search, will have no meaning. As long as one's instrument of thinking is not clear, is perverted, conditioned, whatever one thinks is bound to be limited, narrow. So our problem is how to free the mind from all conditioning, not how to condition it better. Do you under- stand? Most of us are seeking a better conditioning. The Communists, the Catholics, the Protestants, and the various other sects throughout the world, including the Hindus and Buddhists, are all seeking to condition the mind according to a nobler, a more virtuous, unselfish, or religious pattern. Everyone throughout the world, surely, is trying to condition the mind in a better way, and there is never a question of freeing the mind from all conditioning. But it seems to me that until the mind is free from all conditioning, that is, as long as it is conditioned as a Christian, a Buddhist, a Hindu, a Communist, or what not, there must be problems. Surely, it is possible to find out what is real, or if there is such a thing as God, only when the mind is free from all conditioning. The mere occupation of a conditioned mind with God, with truth, with love, has really no meaning at all, for such a mind can function only within the field of its conditioning. The Communist who does not believe in God thinks in one way, and the man who believes in God, who is occupied with a dogma, thinks in another way; but the minds of both are conditioned, therefore neither can think freely, and all their protestations, their theories and beliefs, have very little meaning. So religion is not a matter of going to church, of having certain beliefs and dogmas. Religion may be something entirely different, it may be the total freeing of the mind from all this vast tradition of centuries; for it is only a free mind that can find truth, reality, that which is beyond the projections of the mind. This is not a particular theory of mine, as we can see from what is happening in the world. The Communists want to settle the problems of life in one way, the Hindus in another, and the Christians in still another; so their minds are conditioned. Your mind is conditioned as a Christian, whether you will acknowledge it or not. You may superficially break away from the tradition of Christianity, but the deep layers of the unconscious are full of that tradition, they are conditioned by centuries of education according to a particular pattern; and surely a mind that would find something beyond, if there is such a thing, must first be free of all conditioning. So during these talks we are not discussing self-improvement in any way, nor are we concerned with the improvement of the pattern; we are not seeking to condition the mind in a nobler pattern, nor in a pattern of wider social significance. On the contrary, we are trying to find out how to free the mind, the total consciousness, from all conditioning, for unless that happens there can be no experiencing of reality. You may talk about reality, you may read innumerable volumes about it, read all the sacred books of the East and of the West, but until the mind is aware of its own process, until it sees itself functioning in a particular pattern and is able to be free from that conditioning, obviously all search is vain. So it seems to me of the greatest importance to begin with ourselves, to be aware of our own conditioning. And how extraordinarily difficult it is to know that one is conditioned! Superficially, on the upper levels of the mind, we may be aware that we are conditioned; we may break away from one pattern and take on another, give up Christianity and become a Communist, leave Catholicism and join some other equally tyrannical group, thinking that we are evolving, growing towards reality. On the contrary, it is merely an exchange of prisons. And yet that is what most of us want: to find a secure place in our ways of thinking. We want to pursue a set pattern and be undisturbed in our thoughts, in our actions. But it is only the mind that is capable of patiently observing its own conditioning and being free from its conditioning - it is only such a mind that is able to have a revolution, a radical transformation, and thereby to discover that which is infinitely beyond the mind, beyond all our desires, our vanities and pursuits. Without self-knowledge, without knowing oneself as one is - not as one would like to be, which is merely an illusion, an idealistic escape - , without knowing the ways of one's thinking, all one's motives, one's thoughts, one's innumerable responses, it is not possible to understand and go beyond this whole process of thinking. You have taken a lot of trouble to come here on a hot evening to listen to the talk. And I wonder if you do listen at all? What is listening? I think it is important to go into it a little, if you do not mind. Do you really listen, or are you interpreting what is being said in terms of your own understanding? Are you capable of listening to anybody? Or is it that in the process of listening, various thoughts, opinions arise, so that your own knowledge and experience intervene between what is being said and your comprehension of it? I think it is important to understand the difference between attention and concentration. Concentration implies choice, does it not? You are trying to concentrate on what I am saying, so your mind is focused, made narrow, and other thoughts intervene; so there is not an actual listening, but a battle going on in the mind, a conflict between what you are hearing and your desire to translate it, to apply what I am talking about, and so on. Whereas, attention is something entirely different. In attention there is no focusing, no choice; there is complete awareness without any interpretation. And if we can listen so attentively, completely, to what is being said, then that very attention brings about the miracle of change within the mind itself. What we are talking about is something of immense importance, because unless there is a fundamental revolution in each one of us, I do not see how we can bring about a vast, radical change in the world. And surely, that radical change is essential. Mere economic revolution, whether communistic or socialistic, is of no importance at all. There can be only a religious revolution; and the religious revolution cannot take place if the mind is merely conforming to the pattern of a previous conditioning. As long as one is a Christian or a Hindu there can be no fundamental revolution in this true religious sense of the word. And we do need such a revolution. When the mind is free from all conditioning, then you will find that there comes the creativity of reality, of God, or what you will, and it is only such a mind, a mind which is constantly experiencing this creativity, that can bring about a different outlook, different values, a different world. And so it is important to understand oneself, is it not? Self-knowledge is the beginning of wisdom. Self-knowledge is not according to some psychologist, book, or philosopher, but it is to know oneself as one is from moment to moment. Do you understand? To know oneself is to observe what one thinks, how one feels, not just superficially, but to be deeply aware of what is without condemnation, without judgment, without evaluation or comparison. Try it and you will see how extraordinarily difficult it is for a mind that has been trained for centuries to compare, to condemn, to judge, to evaluate, to stop that whole process and simply to observe what is; but unless this takes place, not only at the superficial level, but right through the whole content of consciousness, there can be no delving into the profundity of the mind. Please, if you are really here to understand what is being said, it is this that we are concerned with and nothing else. Our problem is not what societies you should belong to, what kind of activities you should indulge in, what books you should read, and all that superficial business, but how to free the mind from conditioning. The mind is not merely the waking consciousness that is occupied with daily activities, but also the deep layers of the unconscious in which there is the whole residue of the past, of tradition, of racial instincts. All that is the mind, and unless that total consciousness is free right through, our search, our inquiry, our discovery, will be limited, narrow, petty. So the mind is conditioned right through, there is no part of the mind which is not conditioned; and our problem is, can such a mind free itself? And who is the entity that can free it? Do you understand the problem? The mind is the total consciousness, with all its different layers of knowledge, of acquisition, of tradition, of racial instincts, of memory; and can such a mind free itself? Or can the mind be free only when it sees that it is conditioned and that any movement from this conditioning is still another form of conditioning? I hope you are following all this. If not, we shall discuss it in the days to come. The mind is completely conditioned - which is an obvious fact, if you come to think about. It is not my invention, it is a fact. We belong to a particular society, we were brought up according to a particular ideology, with certain dogmas, traditions, and the vast influence of culture, of society, is continually conditioning the mind. How can such a mind be free, since any movement of the mind to be free is the result of its conditioning and must therefore bring about further conditioning? There is only one answer. The mind can be free only when it is completely still. Though it has problems, innumerable urges, conflicts, ambitions, if - through self-knowledge, through watching itself without acceptance or condemnation - the mind is choicelessly aware of its own process, then out of that awareness there comes an astonishing silence, a quietness of the mind in which there is no movement of any kind. It is only then that the mind is free, because it is no longer desiring anything, it is no longer seeking, it is no longer pursuing a goal, an ideal, which are all the projections of a conditioned mind. And if you ever come to that understanding, in which there can be no self-deception, then you will find that there is a possibility of the coming into being of that extraordinary thing called creativity. Then only can the mind realize that which is measure, less, which may be called God, truth, or what you will - the word has very little meaning. You may be socially prosperous, you may have innumerable possessions, cars, houses, refrigerators, superficial peace, but unless that which is measureless comes into being there will always be sorrow. Freeing the mind from conditioning is the ending of sorrow. There are many questions here; and what is the function of asking a question and receiving an answer? Do we solve any problem by asking a question? What is a problem? Please follow this, think with me. What is a problem? A problem comes into being only when the mind is occupied with something, does it not? If I have a problem, what does it mean? Let's say that my mind is occupied from morning till night with envy, with jealousy, with sex, or what you will. It is the occupation of the mind with an object that creates the problem. The envy may be a fact, but it is the occupation of the mind with the fact that creates the problem, the conflict. Isn't that so? Let's say I am envious, or I have a violent urge of some kind or another. The envy expresses itself, there is conflict, and then my mind is occupied with the conflict: how to be free of it, how to resolve it, what to do about it. It is the occupation of the mind with envy that creates the problem, not envy itself -which we will go into presently, the whole significance of envy. Our problem, then, is not the fact, but occupation with the fact. And can the mind be free from occupation? Is the mind capable of dealing with the fact without being occupied with it? We shall examine this question of occupation as we go along. It is really very interesting to watch one's mind in operation. So, in considering these questions together, we are trying to liberate the mind from occupation, which means looking at the fact without being occupied with it. That is, if I have a particular compulsion, can I look at that compulsion without being occupied with it? Please, you watch your own peculiar compulsion of irritability, or whatever it be. Can you look at it without the mind being occupied with it? Occupation implies the effort to resolve that compulsion, does it not? You are condemning it, comparing it with something else, trying to alter it, overcome it. In other words, trying to do something about your compulsion, is occupation, is it not? But can you look at the fact that you have a particular compulsion, an urge, a desire, look at it without comparing, without judging, and hence not set going the whole process of occupation? Psychologically it is very interesting to observe this, how the mind is incapable of looking at a fact like envy without bringing in the vast complex of opinions, judgments, evaluations with which the mind is occupied; so we never resolve the fact, but multiply the problems. I hope I am making myself clear. And I think it is important for us to understand this process of occupation, because there is a much deeper factor behind it, which is the fear of not being occupied. Whether a mind is occupied with God, with truth, with sex, or with drink, its quality is essentially the same. The man who thinks about God and becomes a hermit may be socially more significant, he may have a greater value to society than the drunkard; but both are occupied, and a mind that is occupied is never free to discover what is truth. Please don't reject or accept what I am saying; look at it, find out. If each one of us can really attend to this one thing, give our full attention to the whole process of the mind's occupation with any problem without trying to free the mind from occupation, which is merely another way of being occupied - if we can understand this process completely, totally, then I think the problem itself will become irrelevant. When the mind is free from occupation with the problem, free to observe, to be aware of the whole issue, then the problem itself can be solved comparatively easily. Question: All our troubles seem to arise from desire, but can we ever be free from desire? Is desire inherent in us, or is it a product of the mind? Krishnamurti: What is desire? And why do we separate desire from the mind? And who is the entity that says, `Desire creates problems, therefore I must be free from desire'? Do you follow? We have to understand what desire is, not ask how to get rid of desire because it creates trouble, or whether it is a product of the mind. First we must know what desire is, and then we can go into it more deeply. What is desire? How does desire arise? I shall explain and you will see, but don't merely listen to my words. Actually experience the thing that we are talking about as we go along and then it will have significance. How does desire come into being? Surely, it comes into being through perception or seeing, contact, sensation, and then desire. Isn't that so? First you see a car, then there is contact, sensation, and finally the desire to own the car, to drive it. Please follow this slowly, patiently. Then, in trying to get that car, which is desire, there is conflict. So in the very fulfilment of desire there is conflict, there is pain, suffering, joy, and you want to hold the pleasure and discard the pain. This is what is actually taking place with each one of us. The entity created by desire, the entity who is identified with pleasure, says, `I must get rid of that which is not pleasurable, which is painful'. We never say, `I want to get rid of pain and pleasure'. We want to retain pleasure and discard pain; but desire creates both, does it not? Desire, which comes into being through perception, contact, and sensation, is identified as the `me' who wants to hold on to the pleasurable and discard that which is painful. But the painful and the pleasurable are equally the outcome of desire, which is part of the mind, it is not outside of the mind; and as long as there is an entity which says, `I want to hold on to this and discard that', there must be conflict. Because we want to get rid of all the painful desires and hold on to those which are primarily pleasurable, worthwhile, we never consider the whole problem of desire. And when we say, `I must get rid of desire', who is the entity that is trying to get rid of something? Is not that entity also the outcome of desire? Do you understand all this? Please, as I said at the beginning of the talk, you must have infinite patience to understand these things. To fundamental questions there is no absolute answer of `yes' or `no'. What is important is to put a fundamental question, not to find an answer; and if we are capable of looking at that fundamental question without seeking an answer, then that very observation of the fundamental brings about understanding. So our problem is not how to be free from the desires which are painful while holding on to those which are pleasurable, but to understand the whole nature of desire. This brings up the question, what is conflict? And who is the entity that is always choosing between the pleasurable and the painful? The entity whom we call the `me', the self, the ego, the mind which says, `This is pleasure, that is pain, I will hold on to the pleasurable and reject the painful' - is not that entity still desire? But if we are capable of looking at the whole field of desire, and not in terms of keeping or getting rid of something, then we shall find that desire has quite a different significance. Desire creates contradiction, and the mind that is at all alert does not like to live in contradiction, therefore it tries to get rid of desire. But if the mind can understand desire without trying to brush it away, without saying, `This is a better desire and that is a worse one, I am going to keep this and discard the other', if it can be aware of the whole field of desire without rejecting, without choosing, without condemning, then you will see that the mind is desire, it is not separate from desire. If you really understand this, the mind becomes very quiet; desires come, but they no longer have impact, they are no longer of great significance; they do not take root in the mind and create problems. The mind reacts, otherwise it is not alive, but the reaction is superficial and does not take root. That is why it is important to understand this whole process of desire in which most of us are caught. Being caught, we feel the contradiction, the infinite pain of it, so we struggle against desire, and the struggle creates duality. Whereas, if we can look at desire without judgment, without evaluation or condemnation, then we shall find that it no longer takes root. The mind that gives soil to problems can never find that which is real. So the issue is not how to resolve desire, but to understand it, and one can understand it only when there is no condemnation of it. Only the mind that is not occupied with desire can understand desire. August 6, 1955. OJAI 2ND PUBLIC TALK 7TH JULY 1955 Perhaps it might be worthwhile first of all to talk over together what we mean by listening. You are here, apparently, to listen to and to understand what is being said; and I think it is important to find out how we listen, because understanding depends on the manner of listening. As we listen, do we discuss with ourselves what is being said, interpreting it according to our own particular opinions, knowledge and idiosyncrasies, or do we just listen attentively without any sense of interpretation at all? And what does it mean to pay attention? It seems to me quite important to differentiate between attention and concentration. Can we listen with an attention in which there is no interpretation, no opposition or acceptance, so that we understand totally what is being said? It is fairly obvious, I think, that if one can listen with complete attention, then that very attention brings about an extraordinary effect. Surely, there are two ways of listening. One can superficially follow the words, see their meaning, and merely pursue the outward significance of the description; or one can listen to the description, to the verbal statement, and pursue it inwardly, that is, be aware of what is being said as a thing that one is directly experiencing in oneself. If one can do the latter, that is, if through the description one is able to experience directly the thing that is being said, then I think it will have great significance. Perhaps you will experiment with that as you are listening. Throughout the world there is immense poverty, as in Asia, and enormous wealth, as in this country; there is cruelty, suffering, injustice, a sense of living in which there is no love. Seeing all this, what is one to do? What is the true approach to these innumerable problems? Religions everywhere have emphasized self-improvement, the cultivation of virtue, the acceptance of authority, the following of certain dogmas, beliefs, the making of great effort to conform. Not only religiously, but also socially and politically, there is the constant urge of self-improvement: I must be more noble, more gentle, more considerate, less violent. Society, with the help of religion, has brought about a culture of self-improvement in the widest sense of that word. That is what each one of us is trying to do all the time: we are trying to improve ourselves, which implies effort, discipline, conformity, competition, acceptance of authority, a sense of security, the justification of ambition. And self-improvement does produce certain obvious results, it makes one more socially inclined; it has social significance and no more, for self-improvement does not reveal the ultimate reality. I think it is very important to understand this. The religions that we have do not help us to understand that which is the real, because they are essentially based, not on the abandonment of the self, but on the improvement, the refinement of the self, which is the continuity of the self in different forms. It is only the very few who break away from society, not the outward trappings of society, but from all the implications of a society which is based on acquisitiveness, on envy, on comparison, competition. This society conditions the mind to a particular pattern of thought, the pattern of self-improvement, self-adjustment, self-sacrifice, and only those who are capable of breaking away from all conditioning can discover that which is not measurable by the mind. Now, what do we mean by effort? We are all making effort, our social pattern is based on the effort to acquire, to understand more, to have more knowledge, and from that background of knowledge, to act. There is always an effort of self-improvement, of self-adjustment, of correction, this drive to fulfil, with its frustrations, fears and miseries. According to this pattern, which we all know and of which we are a part, it is perfectly justified to be ambitious, to compete, to be envious, to pursue a particular result; and our society, whether in America, in Europe, or in India, is essentially based on that. So does society, does culture in this widest sense, help the individual to find truth? Or is society detrimental to man, preventing him from discovering that which is truth? Surely, society as we know it, this culture in which we live and function, helps man to conform to a particular pattern, to be respectable, and it is the product of many wills. We have created this society, it has not come into being by itself. And does this society help the individual to find that which is truth, God - what name you will, the words do not matter - , or must the individual set aside totally the culture, the values of society, to find that which is truth? Which does not mean - please let us remember this very clearly - that he becomes antisocial, does what he likes. On the contrary. The present social structure is based on envy, on acquisitiveness, in which is implied conformity, acceptance of authority, the perpetual fulfilment of ambition, which is essentially the self, the `me' striving to become something. Out of this stuff society is made, and its culture - the pleasant and the unpleasant, the beautiful and the ugly, the whole field of social endeavour -conditions the mind. You are the result of society. If you were born and trained in Russia through their particular form of education, you would deny God, you would accept certain patterns, as here you accept certain other patterns. Here you believe in God, you would be horrified if you did not; you would not be respectable. So everywhere society is conditioning the individual, and this conditioning takes the form of self-improvement, which is really the perpetuation of the `me', the ego, in different forms. Self-improvement may be gross, or it may be very very refined, when it becomes the practice of virtue, goodness, the so-called love of one's neighbour, but essentially it is the continuance of the `me', which is a product of the conditioning influences of society. All your endeavour has gone into becoming something, either here, if you can make it, or if not, in another world; but it is the same urge, the same drive to maintain and continue the self. When one sees all this - and I am not necessarily going into every detail of it - one inevitably asks oneself, does society or culture exist to help man to discover that which may be called truth or God? What matters, surely, is to discover, to actually experience something far beyond the mind, not merely to have a belief, which has no significance at all. And do so-called religions, the following of various teachers, disciplines, belonging to sects, cults, which are all, if you observe, within the field of social respectability - do any of those things help you to find that which is timeless bliss, timeless reality? If you do not merely listen to what is being said, agreeing or disagreeing, but ask yourself whether society helps you, not in the superficial sense of feeding you, clothing you, and giving you shelter, but fundamentally - if you are actually putting that question directly to yourself, which means that you are applying what is being said to yourself so that it becomes a direct experience and not merely a repetition of what you have heard or learnt, then you will see that effort can exist only in the field of self-improvement. And effort is basically part of society, which conditions the mind according to a pattern in which effort is considered essential. It is like this. If I am a scientist I must study, I must know mathematics, I must know all that has been said before, I must have an immense accumulation of knowledge. My memory must be heightened, strengthened and widened. But such a memory, such knowledge, actually prevents further discovery. It is only when I can forget the total acquisition of knowledge, wipe away all the information that I have acquired, which can be used later - it is only then that I can find something new. I cannot find anything new with the burden of the past, with the burden of knowledge, which is again an obvious psychological fact. And I am saying this because we approach reality, that extraordinary state of creativity, with all the burden of society, with the conditioning of a given culture, and so we never discover anything new. Surely, that which is the sublime, the eternal, must always be new, timeless, and for the new to come into being there cannot be any endeavour in the field in which effort is exercised as self-improvement or self-fulfilment. It is only when such effort totally ceases that the other is possible. Please, this is really very important. It is not a question of gazing at your navel and going into some kind of illusion, but of understanding the whole process of effort in society, this society of which you are the product, which you have built, and in which effort is essential, because otherwise you are lost. If you are not ambitious, you are destroyed; if you are not acquisitive, you are trodden on; if you are not envious, you cannot be an executive or a big success. So you are constantly making effort to be or not to be, to become something, to be successful, to fulfil your ambition; and with that mentality, which is the product of society, you are trying to find something which is not of society. Now, if one wishes to find that which is truth, one must be totally free from all religions, from all conditioning, from all dogmas, from all beliefs, from all authority which makes one conform; which means, essentially, standing completely alone, and that is very arduous, it is not a hobby for a Sunday morning when you go for a pleasant drive to sit under the trees and listen to some nonsense. To find out what is truth requires immense patience, gentleness, hesitancy. The mere studying of books has no value; but if as you listen you can be completely attentive, then you will see that this very attention frees you from effort so that without movement in any direction the mind is capable of receiving something which is extraordinarily beautiful and creative, something which is not to be measured by knowledge, by the past. It is only such a person who is really religious and revolutionary, because he is no longer part of society. As long as one is ambitious, envious, acquisitive, competitive, one is society. With that mentality, which is extraordinarily difficult to be free of, one seeks God, and that search has no meaning at all, because it is merely another endeavour to become something, to gain something. That is why it is very important to understand one's relationship to society, to be aware of all the beliefs, dogmas, tenets, superstitions that one has acquired, and to throw them off -not with effort, because then you will again be caught in it, but just to see these things for what they are and let them go, like the autumnal leaf that withers and is blown away, leaving the tree naked. It is only such a mind that can receive something which brings measureless happiness to life. In discussing with you some of these questions, I am obviously not answering them, because we are trying to find out together the significance of the question. If you are merely listening for an answer to the question, I'm afraid you will be disappointed, because then you are not interested in the problem but are only concerned with the answer - as most of us are. I feel it is very important to ask fundamental questions and to keep on asking them without trying to find an answer; because the more you persist in asking fundamental questions, demanding, inquiring, the sharper and more aware the mind becomes. So what are the fundamental questions? Can anyone tell you what they are, or must you find out for yourself? If you can find out for yourself what are the fundamental questions, your mind has already altered, it has already become much more significant than when it asks a petty question and finds a petty answer. Question: Juvenile delinquency in this country is increasing at an alarming rate, How is this mounting problem to be solved? Krishnamurti: There is obviously revolt within the pattern of society. Some revolts are respectable, others are not, but they are always within the field of society, within the limits of the social fence. And surely, a society based on envy, on ambition, cruelty, war, must expect revolt within itself. After all, when you go to the cinema, the movies, you see a great deal of violence. There have been two enormous global wars, representing total violence. A nation which maintains an army must be destructive of its own citizens. Please listen to all this. No nation is peaceful as long as it has an army, whether it is a defensive or an offensive army. An army is both offensive and defensive, it does not bring about a peaceful state. The moment a culture establishes and maintains an army, it is destroying itself. This is historically a fact. And on every side we are encouraged to be competitive, to be ambitious, to be successful. Competition, ambition and success are the gods of a particularly prosperous society such as this, and what do you expect? You want juvenile delinquency to become respectable, that's all. You do not tackle the roots of the problem, which is to stop this whole process of war, of maintaining an army, of being ambitious, of encouraging competition. These things, which are rooted in our hearts, are the fences of society within which there is revolt going on all the time on the part of both the young and the old. The problem is not only that of juvenile delinquency, it involves our whole social structure, and there is no answer to it as long as you and I do not step totally out of society - society representing ambition, cruelty, the desire to succeed, to become somebody, to be on top. That whole process is es- sentially the egocentric pursuit of fulfilment, only it has been made respectable. How you worship a successful man! How you decorate a man who kills thousands! And there are all the divisions of belief, of dogma, the Christian and the Hindu, the Buddhist and the Moslem. These are the things that are bringing about conflict; and when you seek to deal with juvenile delinquency by merely keeping the children at home, or disciplining them, or putting them in the army, or having recourse to the various solutions offered by every psychologist and social reformer, you are surely dealing very superficially with a fundamental question. But we are afraid to tackle fundamental questions because we would become unpopular, we would be termed Communists, or God knows what else, and labels seem to have extraordinary importance for most of us. Whether it is in Russia, in India, or here, the problem is essentially the same, and it is only when the mind understands this whole social structure that we shall find an entirely different approach to the problem, thereby perhaps establishing real peace, not this spurious peace of politicians. Question: I have gone from teacher to teacher seeking, and now I have come to you in the same spirit of search. Are you any different from all the others, and how am I to know? Krishnamurti: Now, you are really seeking, and what does it mean to seek? Do you understand the question? You are obviously seeking something, but what? Essentially you are seeking a state of mind which will never be disturbed and which you call peace, God, love, or whatever it be. Is it not so? Our life is disturbed, anxious, full of fear, darkness, upheaval, confusion, and we want to escape from all that; but when a confused man seeks, his search is based on confusion, and therefore what he finds is further confusion. Are you following this? First of all, then, we must inquire why we seek, and what it is we are seeking. You may go from teacher to teacher, each teacher offering a different method of discipline or meditation, some foolish nonsense; so what is important, surely, is not the teacher and what he offers, but what it is you are seeking. If you can be very clear about what you are seeking, then you will find a teacher who will offer you that. If you are seeking peace, you will find a teacher who will offer you that which you seek. But that which you seek may not be true at all. Do you understand? I may want perfect bliss, which means an undisturbed state of mind in which there will be complete quietness, no conflict, no pain, no inquiry, no doubt, so I practise a discipline which some teacher offers; and probably that very discipline produces its own result, which I call peace. I might just as well take a drug, a pill, which will have the same effect - only that's not respectable, whereas the other is. (Laughter). Please, it is not a laughing matter, this is what we are actually doing. So, that which you are seeking you will find, obviously, if you are willing to pay for it. If you put yourself in the hands of another, follow some authority, discipline, control yourself, you will find what you want, which means that your desire is dictating your search; but you are really not aware of the motivation of your search at all, and then you ask me what my position is and how you are to know whether what I am saying is true or false. Having gone to various teachers and been caught, burnt, you now want to try this. But I am not telling you anything; actually I am not telling you anything at all. All that I am saying is to know yourself deeper and deeper, see yourself as you actually are, which nobody can teach you; and you cannot see yourself as you are if you are bound by beliefs, by dogmas, by superstitions, fears. Sirs, for a mind that cannot stand alone, search will have no meaning at all. To stand alone is to be uncorrupted, innocent, free of all tradition, of dogma, of opinion, of what another says, and so on. Such a mind does not seek, because there is nothing to seek; being free, such a mind is completely still, without a want, without movement. But this state is not to be achieved, it isn't a thing that you buy through discipline; it doesn't come into being by giving up sex, or practising a certain yoga. It comes into being only when there is understanding of the ways of the self, the `me', which shows itself through the conscious mind in everyday activity, and also in the unconscious. What matters is to understand for oneself, not through the direction of others, the total content of consciousness which is conditioned, which is the result of society, of religion, of various impacts, impressions, memories - to understand all that conditioning and be free of it. But there is no how, to be free. If you ask how to be free you are not listening. Say, for example, I am telling you that the mind must be totally unconditioned. Now, how do you listen to a statement of that kind? With what attention are you listening to it? If you are watching your own mind, which I hope you are, you will see that you are inwardly saying `How impossible this is', or, `It cannot be done', or, `Conditioning can only be modified', and so on. In other words, you are not listening to the statement attentively, but you are opposing it with your own opinions, with your own conclusions, with your own knowledge; therefore there is no attention. The fact is that the mind is conditioned, whether as a Communist, a Catholic, a Protestant, a Hindu, or whatever it be, and either we are unaware of this conditioning, or we accept it, or we try to modify it ennoble it, change it; but we never put the question, can the mind be totally free from conditioning? Before you can really put that question attentively to yourself, you must first be aware that your mind is conditioned, as it obviously is. Do you understand what I mean by conditioning? Not the superficial conditioning of language, gesture, costume, and all the rest of it, but conditioning in a much deeper, more fundamental sense. The mind is conditioned when it is ambitious, not only in this world, but ambitious to become something spiritual. This whole endeavour of self-improvement is the result of conditioning; and can the mind be totally free from such conditioning? If you really put that question to yourself attentively without seeking an answer, then you will find the right answer, which is not that it is possible or impossible, but something entirely different takes place. So it is important to find out how we pay attention to these talks. If you don't pay attention, I assure you it is a waste of time for you to come here every weekend. It may be pleasant to drive to Ojai, but it's hot. Whereas, if you can pay direct attention to what is being said, which is not to remember something you have read, or to oppose opinion by opinion, or to take notes and say, `I'll think about it later,' but actually to put the given question to yourself immediately, while you are listening, then that very actuality of attention brings about the right answer. Question: It is now a well-established fact that many of our diseases are psychosomatic, brought on by deep inner frustrations and conflict; of which we are often unaware. Must we now run to psychiatrists as we used to run to physicians, or is there a way for man to free himself from this inner turmoil? Krishnamurti: Which raises the question, what is the position of the psychoanalysts? And what is the position of those of us who have some form of disease or illness? Is the disease brought on by our emotional disturbances, or is it without emotional significance? Most of us are disturbed. Most of us are confused, in turmoil, even the very prosperous who have refrigerators, cars, and all the rest of it; and as we do not know how to deal with the disturbance, inevitably it reacts on the physical and produces an illness, which is fairly obvious. And the question is, must we run to psychiatrists to help us to remove our disturbances and thereby regain health, or is it possible for us to find out for ourselves how not to be disturbed, how not to have turmoil, anxieties, fears? Why are we disturbed, if we are? What is disturbance? I want something but I can't get it, so I'm in a state. I want to fulfil through my children, through my wife, through my property, through position, success, and all the rest of it, but I am blocked, which means that I am disturbed. I am ambitious, but somebody else pushes me aside and gets ahead; again I am in chaos, in turmoil, which produces its own physical reaction. Now, can you and I be free of all this turmoil and confusion? What is confusion? Do you understand? What is confusion? Confusion exists only when there is the fact plus what I think about the fact: my opinion about the fact, my disregard of the fact, my evasion of the fact, my evaluation of the fact, and so on. If I can look at the fact without the additive quality, then there is no confusion. If I recognize the fact that a certain road leads to Ventura, there is no confusion. Confusion arises only when I think or insist that the road leads somewhere else - and that is actually the state that most of us are in. Our opinions, our beliefs, our desires, ambitions, are so strong, we are so weighed down by them, that we are incapable of looking at the fact. So, the fact plus opinion, judgment, evaluation, ambition, and all the rest of it, brings about confusion. And can you and I, being confused, not act? Surely, any action born of confusion must lead to further confusion, further turmoil, all of which reacts on the body, on the nervous system, and produces illness. Being confused, to acknowledge to oneself that one is confused requires, not courage, but a certain clarity of thought, clarity of perception. Most of us are afraid to acknowledge that we are confused, so out of our confusion we choose leaders, teachers, politicians; and when we choose something out of our confusion, that very choice must be confused, and therefore the leader must also be confused. Is it possible, then, to be aware of our confusion, and to know the cause of that confusion, and not act? When a confused mind acts, it can only produce further confusion; but a mind that is aware that it is confused and understands this whole process of confusion, need not act, because that very clarity is its own action. I think this is rather difficult for most people to understand, because we are so used to acting, doing; but if one can watch action, see what its results are, observe what is happening in the world politically and in every direction, then it becomes fairly obvious that so-called reformatory action is merely producing more confusion, more chaos, more reforms. So can we individually be aware of our own confusion, of our own turmoil, and live with it, understand it, without wanting to get rid of it, push it away, or escape from it? As long as we are kicking it, condemning it, running away from it, that very con- demnation, running away, is the process of confusion. And I do not think any analyst can solve this problem. He may temporarily help you to conform to a certain pattern of society which he calls normal existence, but the problem is much deeper than that, and no one can solve it except yourself. You and I have made this society, it is the result of our actions, of our thoughts, of our very being, and as long as we are merely trying to reform the product without understanding the entity that has produced it, we shall have more diseases, more chaos, more delinquency. The understanding of the self brings about wisdom and right action. August 7, 1955. OJAI 3RD PUBLIC TALK 13TH JULY 1955 I think one of our greatest difficulties is that of communication. I want to say something, naturally with the intention that you should understand it; but each one of us interprets the words he hears according to his own peculiar background, and so with a large audience like this it is extremely difficult to convey exactly what one intends. I would like to discuss this evening something what I consider quite important, and that is the whole problem of the cultivation of virtue. One can see that without virtue the mind is quite chaotic, contradictory, and without having a quiet, orderly mind in which there is no conflict, one obviously cannot go much further. But virtue is not an end in itself. The cultivation of virtue leads in one direction, and being virtuous leads in another. Most of us are concerned with the cultivation of virtue because, even though only superficially, virtue does give a certain poise, a certain quietness of mind in which there is not this incessant conflict of contradictory desires. But it seems to me fairly obvious that the mere cultivation of virtue can never bring about freedom, but only leads to respectable tranquillity, the sense of order, of control which arises from shaping the mind to conform to a certain social pattern which is called virtue. So our problem is to be good without trying to be good. I think there is a vast difference between the two. Being good is a state in which there is no effort; but we are not in that state. We are envious, ambitious, gossipy, cruel, narrow, petty-minded, caught in various forms of stupidity, which is not good; and being all that, how can one come to a state of mind which is good without making an effort to be good? Surely, the man who makes an effort to be virtuous is not virtuous, is he? A person who tries to be humble obviously has not the least understanding of what humility is. And not being humble, is it possible to have the sense of humility without the cultivation of humility? I do not know if you have thought about this problem at all. One can see very well that there must be virtue. It is like keeping the room tidy; but having a tidy room is not at all important in itself. To make virtue an end in itself obviously has social benefits, it helps you to be a so-called decent citizen who lives according to a certain pattern, whether here, in India, or in Russia. But isn't it very important for the mind to be orderly without enforcement, without discipline, and to forget it, so that it is not all the time restrained, disciplined, cultivating conformity? After all, what is it we are seeking? What is it that each one of us is in search of, not theoretically, abstractly, but actually? And is there any difference between the search of the man who is seeking satisfaction through knowledge, through God, and that of the man who is seeking to be wealthy, to fulfil his ambition, or who seeks satisfaction through drink? Socially there is a difference. The man who is seeking satisfaction through drink is obviously an antisocial being, whereas the man who seeks satisfaction by joining a religious order, becoming a hermit, and so on, is socially beneficial; but that's all. So, does what we are seeking actually bring about contentment, however serious we are in our search? And we are serious, are we not? The hermit, the monk, the man who is pursuing various forms of pleasure, each in his own way is very serious. And does that constitute earnestness? Is there earnestness when there is a search to acquire something? Do you understand my question? Or, is there earnestness only when there is no seeking of an end? After all, you who are here must be somewhat earnest, otherwise you wouldn't have taken the trouble to come. Now, I am asking myself, and I hope you are asking yourself, what it means to be earnest; because on that depends, I think, what I am going to explain a little later. If you are here seeking contentment, or to understand some past experience, or to cultivate a certain state of mind which you think will give you tranquillity, peace, or to experience that which you call reality, God, you may be very earnest; but should you not question that earnestness? Is it earnestness when you are seeking something which is going to give you pleasure or tranquillity? If we can really understand this whole process of seeking, understand why we seek and what we seek - and that process can be understood only through self-knowledge, through awareness of the movement of our own thinking, of our own reactions and responses, of our various urges - , then perhaps we shall find out what it is to be virtuous without disciplining ourselves to be virtuous. You see, I feel that as long as the mind is held in conflict, though we may suppress it, though we may try to run away from it, discipline it, control it, shape it according to various patterns, that conflict remains latent in the mind, and such a mind can never be really quiet. And it is essential, it seems to me, to have a quiet mind, because the mind is our only instrument of understanding, of perception, of communication, and as long as that instrument is not completely clear and capable of perception, capable of pursuit without an end, there can be no freedom, no tranquillity, and therefore no discovery of anything new. So, is it possible to live in this world - where there is so much turmoil, anxiety, insecurity - without effort? That is one of our problems, is it not? To me that is a very important question, because creativity is something that comes into being only when the mind is in a state of no effort. I am not using that word `creativity' in the academic sense of learning creative writing, creative acting, creative thought, and all that stuff; I am using it in an entirely different sense. When the mind is in a state where the past, with its cultivation of virtue through discipline, has wholly ceased - it is only then that there is a timeless creativity which may be called God, truth, or what you like. So, how can the mind be in that state of constant creativity? When you have a problem, what happens? You think it out, you wallow in it, you fuss over it, you get wildly excited about it; and the more you analyze it, dig into it, polish it, worry about it, the less you understand it. But the moment you put it away from you, you understand it, the whole thing is suddenly very clear. I think most of us have had that experience. The mind is no longer in a state of confusion, conflict, and therefore it is capable of receiving or perceiving something totally new. And is it possible for the mind to be in that state, so that it is never repetitive but is experiencing something new all the time? I think that depends on our understanding of this problem of the cultivation of virtue. We cultivate virtue, we discipline ourselves to conform to a particular pattern of morality. Why? Not only in order to be socially respectable, but also because we see the necessity of bringing about order, of controlling our minds, our speech, our thought. We see how extraordinarily important that is, but in the process of cultivating virtue we are building up memory, the memory which is the `me', the self, the ego. That is the background we have, especially those who think they are religious, the background of constantly practising a particular discipline, of belonging to certain sects, groups, so-called religious bodies. Their reward may be somewhere else, in the next world, but it is still a reward; and in pursuing virtue, which means polishing, disciplining, controlling the mind, they are developing and maintaining self-conscious memory, so never for a moment are they free from the past. If you have ever really disciplined yourself, practised not being envious, not being angry, and so on, I wonder if you have noticed that that very practice, that very disciplining of the mind leaves a series of memories of the known? This is rather a difficult problem we are discussing, and I hope I am making myself clear. The whole process of saying, `I must not do this', breeds or builds up time; and a mind that is caught in time can obviously never experience something which is timeless, which is the unknown. Yet the mind must be orderly, free of contradictory desires - which does not mean conforming, accepting, obeying. So, if you are at all earnest, in the sense in which I am using that word, this problem must inevitably arise. Your mind is the result of the known. Your mind is the known, it is shaped by memories, by reactions, by impressions of the known; and a mind that is held within the field of the known can never comprehend or experience the unknown, something which is not within the field of time. The mind is creative only when it is free from the known - and then it can use the known, which is the technique. Am I making myself clear, or is it all as clear as mud? (Laughter). You see, we are so bored that we constantly read, acquire, learn, go to churches, perform rituals, and we never know a moment which is original, pristine, innocent, completely free from all impressions; and it is that moment that is creative, that is timeless, everlasting, or whatever word you like to use. Without that creativity, life becomes so insipid, stupid, and then all our virtues, our knowledge, our pursuits, our amusements, our various beliefs and traditions, have very little meaning. As I was saying the other day, society merely cultivates the known, and we are the result of that society. To find the unknown, it is essential to be free of society - which doesn't mean that you must withdraw into a monastery and pray from morning till night, everlastingly disciplining yourself. conforming to a certain belief, dogma. Surely, that does not bring about the release of the mind from the known. The mind is the result of the known, it is the result of the past, which is the accumulation of time; and is it possible for such a mind to be free from the known without effort, so that it can discover something original? Any effort it makes to free itself, any search in order to find, is still within the field of the known. Surely, God or truth must be something totally unthought of, it must be something entirely new, unformulated, never discovered, never experienced before. And how can a mind which is the result of the known ever experience that? Do you follow the problem? If the problem is clear, then you will find the right way of approaching it, which is not a method. That's why it is important to find out if one can be good, in the complete sense of that word, without trying to be good, without making an effort to get rid of envy, of ambition, of cruelty, without disciplining oneself to stop gossiping - you know, the whole mass of strictures which we impose upon ourselves in order to be good. Can there be goodness without the attempt to be good? I think there can be only if each one of us knows how to listen, how to be attentive now. There is goodness only when there is complete attention. See the truth that there can be no goodness through endeavour, through effort, just see the truth of that - and you can see the truth of it only if you are giving complete attention to what is being said. Forget all the books you have read, the things that you have been told of, and give complete attention to the statement that there can be no virtue as long as there is endeavour to be virtuous. As long as I am trying to be nonviolent, there is violence; as long as I am trying to be unenvious, I am envious; as long as I am trying to be humble, there is pride. If I see the truth of that, not intellectually or verbally, which is merely to hear the words and agree with them, but very simply and directly, then out of that comes goodness. But the difficulty is that the mind then says, `How can I keep that state? I may be good while sitting here listening to something which I feel is true, but the moment I go out I am again caught in the stream of envy'. But I don't think that matters; you'll find out. Our culture, our society, is based on envy, on various forms of acquisitiveness, whether it is the acquisition of knowledge, of experience, of property, or what you will. And to be free of all that doesn't require endeavour, effort, but seeing the whole implication of effort. A man who is acquiring knowledge is not peaceful, he is caught in effort. It is only when the mind is totally without effort that it is peaceful, which is really an extraordinary state, and I think anybody can have it who gives his heart, his whole attention to the matter. A mind that is not toiling, that is not trying to become something socially or spiritually, that is completely nothing - it is only such a mind that can receive the new. Question: Some philosophers assert that life has purpose and meaning, while others maintain that life is utterly haphazard and absurd. What do you say? You deny the value of goals, ideals and purposes; but without them, has life any significance at all? Krishnamurti: Has what the philosophers say a great significance to each one of us? Some intellectuals say there is meaning, significance to life, while others say it is haphazard and absurd. Surely, in their own way, negatively or positively, both are giving significance to life, are they not? One asserts, the other denies, but essentially they are both the same. That is fairly obvious. Now, when you pursue an ideal, a goal, or inquire what is the purpose of life, that very inquiry or pursuit is based on the desire to give significance to life, is it not? I do not know if you are following all this. My life has no significance, let us suppose, so I seek to give significance to life. I say, `What is the purpose of life? because, if life has a purpose, then according to that purpose I can live. So I invent or imagine a purpose, or by reading, inquiring searching, I find a purpose; therefore I am giving significance to life. As the intellectual in his own way gives significance to life by denying or asserting that it has purpose and meaning, we also give significance to life through our ideals, through our search for a goal, for God, for love, for truth. Which means, really, that without giving significance to life, our life has no meaning for us at all. Living isn't good enough for us, so we want to give a significance to life. I do not know if you see that. What is the significance of our life, yours and mine, apart from the philosophers? Has it any significance, or are we giving it a significance through belief, like the intellectual who becomes a Catholic, this or that, and thereby finds a shelter? His intellect has torn everything to pieces, he cannot stand being alone, lonely, and all the rest of it, so he has to have a belief in Catholicism, in Communism, or in something else which nourishes him, which for him gives significance to life. Now, I am asking myself, why do we want a significance? And what does it mean to live without significance at all? Do you understand? Our own life being empty, harried, lonely, we want to give a significance to life. And is it possible to be aware of our own emptiness, loneliness, sorrow, of all the travail and conflict in our life, without trying to get out of it, without artificially giving a significance to life? Can we be aware of this extraordinary thing which we call life, which is the earning of a livelihood, the envy, the ambition, the frustration - just be aware of all that without condemnation or justification, and go beyond? It seems to me that as long as we are seeking or giving a significance to life, we are missing something extraordinarily vital. It is like the man who wants to find the significance of death, who is everlastingly rationalizing it, explaining it - he never experiences what is death. We shall go into that in another talk. So aren't we all trying to find a reason for our existence? When we love, do we have a reason? Or is love the only state in which there is no reason at all, no explanation, no endeavour, no trying to be something? Perhaps we do not know that state. Not knowing that state, we try to imagine it, give significance to life; and because our minds are conditioned, limited, petty, the significance we give to life, our gods, our rituals, our endeavours, are also petty. Isn't it important, then, to find out for ourselves what significance we give to life, if we do? Surely, the purposes, the goals, the Masters, the gods, the beliefs, the ends through which we are seeking fulfilment, are all invented by the mind, they are all the outcome of our own conditioning; and realizing that, is it not important to uncondition the mind? When the mind is unconditioned and is therefore not giving significance to life, then life is an extraordinary thing, something totally different from the framework of the mind. But first we must know our own conditioning, must we not? And is it possible to know our conditioning, our limitations, our background, without forcing, without analyzing, without trying to sublimate or suppress it? Because that whole process involves the entity who observes and separates himself from the observed, does it not? As long as there is the observer and the observed, conditioning must continue. However much the observer, the thinker, the censor may try to get rid of his conditioning, he is still caught in that conditioning, because the very division between the thinker and the thought, the experiencer and the experience, is the perpetuation of conditioning; and it is extremely difficult to let this division disappear, because it involves the whole problem of will. Our culture is based on will, the will to be, to become, to achieve, to fulfil; therefore in each one of us there is always the entity who is trying to change, control, alter that which he observes. But is there a difference between that which he observes and himself, or are they one? This is a thing that cannot be merely accepted. It must be thought of, gone into with tremendous patience, gentleness, hesitancy, so that the mind is no longer separated from that which it thinks, so that the observer and the observed are psychologically one. As long as I am psychologically separate from that which I perceive in myself as envy, I try to overcome envy; but is that `I', the maker of effort to overcome envy, different from envy? Or are they both the same, only the `I' has separated himself from envy in order to overcome it because he feels envy is painful, and for various other reasons? But that very separation is the cause of envy. Perhaps you are not used to this way of thinking and it is a little bit too abstract. But a mind that is envious can never be tranquil because it is always comparing, always trying to become something which it is not; and if one really goes into this problem of envy radically, profoundly, deeply, one must inevitably come upon this problem, whether the entity that wishes to be rid of envy is not envy itself. When one realizes that it is envy itself that wants to get rid of envy, then the mind is aware of that feeling called envy without any sense of condemning or trying to get rid of it. Then from that the problem arises, is there a feeling if there is no verbalization? Because the very word `envy' is condemnatory, is it not? Am I saying too much all at once? Is there a feeling of envy if I don't name that feeling? By the very naming of it am I not maintaining that feeling? The feeling and the naming are almost simultaneous, are they not? And is it possible to separate them so that there is only a sense of reaction without naming? If you really go into it you will find that when there is no naming of that feeling, envy totally ceases - not just the envy you feel because somebody is more beautiful, or has a better car, and all that stupid stuff, but the tremendous depth of envy, the root of envy. All of us are envious, there isn't one who is not envious in different ways. But envy isn't just the superficial thing, it is the whole sense of comparing which goes very deep and occupies our minds so vastly, and to be radically free of envy there must be no censor, no observer of the envy who is trying to get rid of envy. We shall go into that another time. Question: To be without condemnation, justification or comparison, is to be in a higher state of consciousness. I am not in that state, so how am I to get there? Krishnamurti: You see, the very question, "How am I to get there?" is envious. (Laughter). No, sirs, please pay attention. You want to get something, so you have methods, disciplines, religions, churches, this whole superstructure which is built on envy, comparison, justification, condemnation. Our culture is based on this hierarchical division between those who have more and those who have less, those who know and those who don't know, those who are ignorant and those who are full of wisdom, so our approach to the problem is totally wrong. The questioner says, "To be without condemnation, justification or comparison, is to be in a higher state of consciousness." Is it? Or are we simply not aware that we are condemning, comparing? Why do we first assert that it is a higher state of consciousness, and then out of that create the problem of how to get there and who is going to help us to get there? Is it not much simpler than all that? That is, we are not aware of ourselves at all, we do not see that we are condemning, comparing. If we can watch ourselves daily without justifying or condemning anything, just be aware of how we never think without judging, comparing, evaluating, then that very awareness is enough. We are always saying, `This book is not as good as the other', or, `This man is better than that man', and so on; there is this constant process of comparison, and we think that through comparison we understand. Do we? Or does understanding come only when one is not comparing but is really paying attention? Is there comparison when you are looking attentively at something? When you are totally attentive, you have no time to compare, have you? The moment you compare, your attention has gone off to something else. When you say, `This sunset is not as beautiful as that of yesterday', you are not really looking at the sunset, your mind has already gone off to yesterday's memory. But if you can look at the sunset completely, totally, with your whole attention, then comparison ceases, surely. So the problem is not how to get something, but why we are not attentive. We are not attentive, obviously, because we are not interested. Don't say, `How am I to be interested?' That's irrelevant, that's not the question. Why should you be interested? If you are not interested in listening to what is being said, why bother? But you are bothered because your life is full of envy, suffering, so you want to find an answer, you want to find a meaning. If you want to find a meaning, give full attention. The difficulty is that we are not really serious about anything, serious in the right sense of that word. When you give complete attention to something, you are not trying to get anything out of it, are you? At that moment of total attention there is no envy, there is no entity who is trying to change, to modify, to become something, there is no self at all. In the moment of attention the self, the `me' is absent, and it is that moment of attention that is good, that is love. August 13, 1955. OJAI 4TH PUBLIC TALK 14TH JULY 1955 One of the most difficult things to understand, it seems to me, is this problem of change. We see that there is progress in different forms, so-called evolution; but is there a fundamental change in progress? I do not know if this problem has struck you at all, or whether you have ever thought about it, but perhaps it will be worthwhile to go into the question this morning. We see that there is progress in the obvious sense of that word; there are new inventions, better cars, better planes, better refrigerators, the superficial peace of a progressive society, and so on. But does that progress bring about a radical change in man, in you and me? It does superficially alter the conduct of our life, but can it ever fundamentally transform our thinking? And how is this fundamental transformation to be brought about? I think it is a problem worth considering. There is progress in self-improvement: I can be better tomorrow, more kind, more generous, less envious, less ambitious. But does self-improvement bring about a complete change in one's thinking? Or is there no change at all, but only progress? Progress implies time, does it not? I am this today, and I shall be something better tomorrow. That is, in self-improvement, or self-denial, or self-abnegation, there is progression, the gradualism of moving towards a better life, which means superficially adjusting to environment, conforming to an improved pattern, being conditioned in a nobler way, and so on. We see that process taking place all the time. And you must have wondered, as I have, whether progress does bring about a fundamental revolution. To me, the important thing is not progress, but revolution. Please don't be horrified by that word `revolution', as most people are in a very progressive society like this. But it seems to me that unless we understand the extraordinary necessity of bringing about, not just a social amelioration, but a radical change in our outlook, mere progress is progress in sorrow; it may effect the pacification, the calming of sorrow, but not the cessation of sorrow, which is always latent. After all, progress in the sense of getting better over a period of time is really the process of the self, the `me', the ego. There is progress in self-improvement, obviously, which is the determined effort to be good, to be more this or less that, and so on. As there is improvement in refrigerators and airplanes, so also there is improvement in the self; but that improvement, that progress does not free the mind from sorrow. So, if we want to understand the problem of sorrow and perhaps put an end to it, then we cannot possibly think in terms of progress; because a man who thinks in terms of progress, of time, saying that he will be happy tomorrow, is living in sorrow. And to understand this problem, one must go into the whole question of consciousness, must one not? Is this too difficult a subject? I'll go on and we'll see. If I really want to understand sorrow and the ending of sorrow, I must find out, not only what are the implications of progress, but also what that entity is who wants to improve himself; and I must also know the motive with which he seeks to improve. All this is consciousness. There is the superficial consciousness of everyday activity: the job, the family, the constant adjustment to social environment, either happily, easily, or contradictorily, with a neurosis. And there is also the deeper level of consciousness which is the vast social inheritance of man through centuries: the will to exist, the will to alter, the will to become. If I would bring about a fundamental revolution in myself, surely I must understand this total progress of consciousness. One can see that progress obviously does not bring about a revolution. I am not talking of social or economic revolution - that is very superficial, as I think most of us will agree. The overthrow of one economic or social system and the setting up of another does alter certain values, as in the Russian and other historical revolutions. But I am talking of a psychological revolution, which is the only revolution; and a man who is religious must be in that state of revolution, which I shall go into presently. In grappling with this problem of progress and revolution, there must be an awareness, a comprehension of the total process of consciousness. Do you understand? Until I really comprehend what is consciousness, mere adjustment on the surface, though it may have sociological significance and perhaps bring about a better way of living, more food, less starvation in Asia, fewer wars, it can never solve the fundamental problem of sorrow. Without understanding, resolving and going beyond the urge that brings about sorrow, mere social adjustment is the continuance of that latent seed of sorrow. So I must understand what is consciousness, not according to any philosophy, psychology, or description, but by directly experiencing the actual state of my consciousness, the whole content of it. Now, perhaps this morning you and I can experiment with this. I am going to describe what is consciousness; but while I am describing it, don't follow the description, but rather observe the process of your own thinking, and then you will know for yourself what consciousness is without reading any of the contradictory accounts of what the various experts have found. Do you understand? I am describing something. If you merely listen to the description, it will have very little meaning; but if through the description you are experiencing your own consciousness, your own process of thinking, then it will have tremendous importance now, not tomorrow, not some other day when you will have time to think about it, which is absolute nonsense because it is mere postponement. If through the description you can experience the actual state of your own consciousness as you are quietly sitting here, then you will find that the mind is capable of freeing itself from its vast inheritance of conditioning, all the accumulations and edicts of society, and is able to go beyond self-consciousness. So if you will experiment with this, it will be worthwhile. We are trying to discover for ourselves what is consciousness, and whether it is possible for the mind to be free of sorrow - not to change the pattern of sorrow, not to decorate the prison of sorrow, but to be completely free from the seed, the root of sorrow. In inquiring into that, we shall see the difference between progress and the psychological revolution which is essential if there is to be freedom from sorrow. We are not trying to alter the content of our consciousness, we are not trying to do something about it; we are just looking at it. Surely, if we are at all observant, slightly aware of anything, we know the activities of the superficial consciousness. We can see that on the surface our mind is active, occupied in adjustment, in a job, in earning a livelihood, in expressing certain tendencies, gifts, talents, or acquiring certain technical knowledge; and most of us are satisfied to live on that surface. Please do not merely follow what I am telling you, but watch yourself, your own way of thinking. I am describing what is superficially taking place in our daily life - distractions, escapes, occasional lapses into fear, adjustment to the wife, to the husband, to the family, to society, to tradition, and so on - , and with that superficiality most of us are satisfied. Now, can we go below that and see the motive of this superficial adjustment? Again, if you are a little aware of this whole process, you know that this adjustment to opinion, to values, this acceptance of authority, and so on, is motivated by self-perpetuation, self-protection. If you can go still below that you will find there is this vast undercurrent of racial, national and group instincts, all the accumulations of human struggle, knowledge, endeavour, the dogmas and traditions of the Hindu, the Buddhist, or the Christian the residue of so-called education through centuries, all of which has conditioned the mind to a certain inherited pattern. And if you can go deeper still, there is the primal desire to be, to succeed, to become, which expresses itself on the surface in various forms of social activity and creates deep-rooted anxieties, fears. Put very succinctly, the whole of that is our consciousness. In other words, our thinking is based on this fundamental urge to be, to become, and on top of that lie the many layers of tradition, of culture, of education, and the superficial conditioning of a given society, all forcing us to conform to a pattern that enables us to survive. There are many details and subtleties, but in essence that is our consciousness. Now, any progress within that consciousness is self-improvement; and self-improvement is progress in sorrow, not the cessation of sorrow. This is quite obvious if you look at it. And if the mind is concerned with being free of all sorrow, then what is the mind to do? I do not know if you have thought about this problem, but please think about it now. We suffer, don't we? We suffer, not only from physical illness, disease, but also from loneliness, from the poverty of our being; we suffer because we are not loved. When we love somebody and there is no loving in return, there is sorrow. In every direction, to think is to be full of sorrow; therefore it seems better not to think, so we accept a belief and stagnate in that belief, which we call religion. Now, if the mind sees that there is no ending of sorrow through self-improvement, through progress, which is fairly obvious, then what is the mind to do? Can the mind go beyond this consciousness, beyond these various urges and contradictory desires? And is going beyond a matter of time? Please follow this, not merely verbally but actually. If it is a matter of time, then you are back again in the other thing, which is progress. Do you see that? Within the framework of consciousness, any movement in any direction is self-improvement, and therefore the continuance of sorrow. Sorrow may be controlled, disciplined, subjugated, rationalized, super-refined, but the potential quality of sorrow is still there; and to be free from sorrow, there must be freedom from this potentiality, from this seed of the `I', the self, from the whole process of becoming. To go beyond, there must be the cessation of this process. But if you say, `How am I to go beyond?', then the `how' becomes the method, the practice, which is still progress, therefore is no going beyond, but only the refinement of consciousness in sorrow. I hope you are getting this. The mind thinks in terms of progress, of improvement, of time; and is it possible for such a mind, seeing that so-called progress is progress in sorrow, to come to an end, not in time, not tomorrow, but immediately? Otherwise you are back again in the whole routine, in the old wheel of sorrow. If the problem is stated clearly, and clearly understood, then you will find the absolute answer. I am using that word `absolute' in its right sense. There is no other answer. That is, our consciousness is all the time struggling to adjust, to modify, to change, to absorb, to reject, to evaluate, to condemn, to justify; but any such movement of consciousness is still within the pattern of sorrow. Any movement within that consciousness as dreams, or as an exertion of will, is the movement of the self; and any movement of the self, whether towards the highest or towards the most mundane, breeds sorrow. When the mind sees that, then what happens to such a mind? Do you understand the question? When the mind sees the truth of that, not merely verbally but totally, then is there a problem? Is there a problem when I am watching a rattler and know it to be poisonous? Similarly, if I can give my total attention to this process of suffering, then is not the mind beyond suffering? Please follow this. Our minds are now occupied with sorrow and with the avoidance of sorrow, trying to overcome it, to diminish it, to modify it, to refine it, to run away from it in various ways. But if I see, not just superficially but right through, that this very occupation of the mind with sorrow is the movement of the self which creates sorrow, if I really see the truth of that, then has not the mind gone beyond this thing that we call self-consciousness? To put it differently, our society is based on envy, on acquisitiveness, not only here in America, but also in Europe, in Asia, and we are the product of that society, which has existed for centuries, millennia. Now, please follow this. I realize that I am envious. I can refine it, I can control it, discipline it, find a substitute for it through charitable activities, social reform, and so on; but envy is always there, latent, ready to spring forward. So, how is the mind to be totally free from envy? Because envy inevitably brings conflict, envy is a state in which there is no creativity; and a man who wishes to find out what is creativity must obviously be free from all envy, from all comparison, from the urges to be, to become. Envy is a feeling which we identify with a word. We identify the feeling by calling it a name, giving it the term `envy'. I shall go slowly, and please follow this, for it is the description of our consciousness. There is a certain state of feeling and I give it a name, I call it `envy'. That very word `envy' is condemnatory, it has social, moral and spiritual significances which are part of the tradition in which I have been educated; so by the very employment of that word, I have condemned the feeling, and this process of condemnation is self-improvement. In condemning envy I am progressing in the opposite direction, which is non-envy, but that movement is still from the centre which is envious. So, can the mind put an end to naming? When there is a feeling of jealousy, of lust, or of ambition to be something, can the mind, which is educated in words, in condemnation, in giving it a name, stop that whole process of naming? Experiment with this and you will see how extraordinarily difficult it is not to name a feeling. The feeling and the naming are almost simultaneous. But if the naming does not take place, then is there the feeling? Does the feeling persist when there is no naming? Are you following all this, or is it too abstract? Don't agree or disagree with me, because this is not my life, it is your life. This whole problem of naming a feeling, of giving it a term, is part of the problem of consciousness. Take a word like `love'. How immediately your mind rejoices in that word! It has such significance, such beauty, ease, and all the rest of it. And the word `hate' immediately has quite another significance, something to be avoided, to be got rid of, to be shunned, and so on. So words have an extraordinary psychological effect on the mind, whether we are conscious of it or not. Now, can the mind be free from all that verbalizing? If it can - , and it must, otherwise the mind cannot possibly go further - , then the problem arises, is there an experiencer apart from experience? If there is an experiencer apart from experience, then the mind is conditioned, because the experiencer is always either accumulating or rejecting experience, translating every experience in terms of his own likes and dislikes, in terms of his background, his conditioning; if he has a vision, he thinks it is Jesus, a Master, or God knows what else, some stupid nonsense. So as long as there is an experiencer there is progress in suffering, which is the process of self-consciousness. Now, to go beyond, to transcend all that, requires tremendous attention. This total attention, in which there is no choice, no sense of becoming, of changing, altering, wholly frees the mind from the process of self-consciousness; there is then no experiencer who is accumulating, and it is only then that the mind can be truly said to be free from sorrow. It is accumulation that is the cause of sorrow. We do not die to everything from day to day, we do not die to the innumerable traditions, to the family, to our own experiences, to our own desire to hurt another. One has to die to all that from moment to moment, to that vast accumulative memory, and only then the mind is free from the self, which is the entity of accumulation. Perhaps in considering this question together we shall clarify what has already been said. Question: What is the unconscious, and is it conditioned? If it is conditioned, then how is one to set about being free from that conditioning? Krishnamurti: First of all, is not our consciousness, the waking consciousness, conditioned? Do you understand what that word `conditioned' means? You are educated in a certain way. Here in this country you are conditioned to be Americans, whatever that may mean, you are educated in the American way of life, and in Russia they are educated in the Russian way of life. In Italy the Catholics educate the children to think in a certain way, which is another form of conditioning, while in India, in Asia, in the Buddhist countries, they are conditioned in still other ways. Throughout the world there is this deliberate process of conditioning the mind through education, through social environment, through fear, through the job, through the family -you know, the innumerable ways of influencing the superficial mind, the waking consciousness. Then there is the unconscious, that is, the layer of the mind below the superficial, and the questioner wants to know if that is conditioned. Isn't it conditioned, conditioned by all the racial thought, the hidden motives, desires, the instinctual responses of a particular culture? I am supposed to be a Hindu, born in India, educated abroad, and all the rest of it. Until I go into the unconscious and understand it, I am still a Hindu with all the Brahmanic, symbolic, cultural, religious, superstitious responses -it is all there, dormant, to be awakened at any moment, and it gives warning, intimation through dreams, through moments when the conscious mind is not fully occupied. So the unconscious is also conditioned. It is quite obvious, then, if you go into it, that the whole of one's consciousness is conditioned. There is no part of you, no higher self which is not conditioned. Your very thinking is the outcome of memory, conscious or unconscious, therefore it is the result of conditioning. You think as a Communist, as a Socialist, as a Capitalist, as an American, as a Hindu, as a Catholic, as a Protestant, or what you will, because you are conditioned that way. You are conditioned to believe in God, if you are, and the Communist is not, he laughs at you and says, `You are conditioned; but he himself is conditioned, educated by his society, by the party to which he belongs, by its literature not to believe. So we are all conditioned, and we never ask, `Is it possible to be totally free from conditioning?' All we know is a process of refinement in conditioning, which is refinement in sorrow. Now, if I see that, not merely verbally, but with total attention, then there is no conflict. Do you understand what I mean? When you attend to something with your whole being, that is, when you give your mind completely to understand something, there is no conflict. Conflict arises only when you are partly interested and partly looking at something else, and then you want to overcome that conflict, so you begin to concentrate, which is not attention. In attention there is no division, there is no distraction, therefore there is no effort, no conflict, and it is only through such attention that there can be self-knowledge, which is not accumulative. Please follow this. Self-knowledge is not a thing to be accumulated, it is to be discovered from moment to moment; and to discover there cannot be accumulation, there cannot be a referent. If you accumulate self- knowledge, then all further understanding is dictated by that accumulation; therefore there is no understanding. So the mind can go beyond all conditioning only in awareness in which there is total attention. In that total attention there is no modifier, no censor, no entity who says, `I must change', which means there is a complete cessation of the experiencer. There is no experiencer as the accumulator. Please, this is really important to understand. Because, after all, when we experience something lovely - a sunset, a single leaf dancing in a tree, moonlight on the water, a smile, a vision, or what you like - , the mind immediately wants to grasp it, to hold it, to worship it, which means the repetition of that experience; and where there is the urge to repeat there must be sorrow. Is it possible, then, to be in a state of experiencing without the experiencer? Do you understand? Can the mind experience ugliness, beauty, or what you will, without that entity who says,`I have experienced'? Because that which is truth, that which is God, that which is the immeasurable, can never be experienced as long as there is an experiencer. The experiencer is the entity of recognition; and if I am capable of recognizing that which is truth, then I have already experienced it, I already know it, therefore it is not truth. That is the beauty of truth, it remains timelessly the unknown, and a mind that is the result of the known can never grasp it. Question: You have said that all urges are in essence the same. Do you mean to say that the urge of the man who pursues God is no different from the urge of the man who pursues women or who loses himself in drink? Krishnamurti: All urges are not similar, but they are all urges. You may have an urge towards God, and I may have an urge to get drunk; but we are both compelled, urged, you in one direction, I in another. Your direction is respectable, mine is not; on the contrary, I am antisocial. But the hermit, the monk, the so-called religious person whose mind is occupied with virtue, with God, is essentially the same as the man whose mind is occupied with business, with women, or with drink, because both are occupied. Do you understand? The one has sociological value, while the other, the man whose mind is occupied with drink, is socially unfit. So you are judging from the social point of view, are you not? The man who retires into a monastery and prays from morning till night, doing some gardening for a certain period of the day, whose mind is wholly occupied with God, with self-castigation, self-discipline, self-control, him you regard as a very holy person, a most extraordinary man. Whereas, the man who goes after business, who manipulates the stock exchange and is occupied all the time with making money, of him you say, `Well, he is just an ordinary man like the rest of us'. But they are both occupied. To me, what the mind is occupied with is not important. A man whose mind is occupied with God will never find God, because God is not something to be occupied with; it is the unknown, the immeasurable. You cannot occupy yourself with God. That is a cheap way of thinking of God. What is significant is not with what the mind is occupied, but the fact of its occupation, whether it be with the kitchen, with the children, with amusement, with what kind of food you are going to have, or with virtue, with God. And must the mind be occupied? Do you follow? Can an occupied mind ever see anything new, anything except its own occupation? And what happens to the mind if it is not occupied? Do you understand? Is there a mind if there is no occupation? The scientist is occupied with his technical problems, with his mechanics, with his mathematics, as the housewife is occupied in the kitchen or with the baby. We are all so frightened of not being occupied, frightened of the social implications. If one were not occupied one might discover oneself as one is, so occupation becomes an escape from what one is. So, must the mind be everlastingly occupied? And is it possible to have no occupation of the mind? Please, I am putting you a question to which there is no answer, because you have to find out; and when you do find out you will see the extraordinary thing happen. It is very interesting to find out for yourself how your mind is occupied. The artist is occupied with his art, with his name, with his progress, with the mixing of colours, with fame, with notoriety; the man of knowledge is occupied with his knowledge; and a man who is pursuing self-knowledge is occupied with his self-knowledge, trying like a little ant to be aware of every thought, every movement. They are all the same. It is only the mind that is totally unoccupied, completely empty - it is only such a mind that can receive something new, in which there is no occupation. But that new thing cannot come into being as long as the mind is occupied. Question: You say that an occupied mind cannot receive that which is truth or God. But how can I earn a livelihood unless I am occupied with my work? Are you yourself not occupied with these talks, which is your particular means of earning a livelihood? Krishnamurti: God forbid that I should be occupied with my talks! I am not. And this is not my means of livelihood. If I were occupied, there would be no interval between thoughts, there would not be that silence which is essential to see something new. Then talking would become utter boredom. I don't want to be bored by my own talks, therefore I am not talking from memory. It is something totally different. It doesn't matter, we shall go into that some other time. The questioner asks how he is to earn his livelihood if he is not occupied with his work. Do you occupy yourself with your work? Please listen to this. If you are occupied with your work, then you do not love your work. Do you understand the difference? If I love what I am doing, I am not occupied with it, my work is not apart from me. But we are trained in this country, and unfortunately it is becoming the habit throughout the world, to acquire skill in work which we don't love. There may be a few scientists, a few technical experts, a few engineers, who really love what they do in the total sense of the word, which I am going to explain presently. But most of us do not love what we are doing, and that is why we are occupied with our livelihood. I think there is a difference between the two, if you really go into it. How can I love what I am doing if I am all the time driven by ambition, trying through my work to achieve an aim, to become somebody, to have a success? An artist who is concerned with his name, with his greatness, with comparison, with fulfilling his ambition. has ceased to be an artist, he is merely a technician like everybody else. Which means, really, that to love something there must be a total cessation of all ambition, of all desire for the recognition of society, which is rotten anyhow. (Laughter). Sirs, please don't. And we are not trained for that, we are not educated for that; we have to fit into some groove which society or the family has given us. Because my forefathers have been doctors, lawyers or engineers, I must be a doctor, a lawyer or an engineer. And now there must be more and more engineers, because that is what society demands. So we have lost this love of the thing itself, if we ever had it, which I doubt. And when you love a thing, there is no occupation with it. The mind isn't conniving to achieve something, trying to be better than somebody else; all comparison, competition, all desire for success, for fulfilment, totally ceases. It is only the ambitious mind that is occupied. Similarly, a mind that is occupied with God, with truth, can never find it, because that which the mind is occupied with it already knows. If you already know the immeasurable, what you know is the outcome of the past, therefore it is not the immeasurable. Reality cannot be measured, therefore there is no occupation with it; there is only a stillness of the mind, an emptiness in which there is no movement, and it is only then that the unknown can come into being. August 14, 1955. OJAI 5TH PUBLIC TALK 20TH JULY 1955 One of the grave problems about which most of us must have thought is the complete control of the mind; because one can see that without a deep, rational, balanced control of the mind there is not the conservation of energy which is so essential if one is to do anything, and especially in matters that pertain to so-called search, the search of truth, of reality, of God, or what you will. One is aware, I think, that this stability of mind is necessary to penetrate into fundamental problems which a superficial mind cannot touch. And yet the difficulty lies in how to control the mind, does it not? Many systems of discipline, various religious sects and monastic communities, have always insisted on the absolute control of the mind; and this evening I would like to discuss whether such a thing is possible at all, and how this absolute steadiness of the mind is to be brought about. I am using the word `absolute' in its correct sense, meaning complete, total control of the mind. As I said, it is essential to have such steadiness, because in that state there is no conflict, no dissipation, no distraction of any kind; therefore it brings enormous energy, and such a mind, being completely steady, is capable of deep, radical penetration into reality. Now, however much it may control, dominate, discipline itself, can a petty mind ever be steady? Most of our minds are narrow, limited, prejudiced, petty, and a petty mind is occupied incessantly with things that are very superficial, with a job, with quarrels, with resentment, with the cultivation of virtues, with trying to understand something, with gossip, with its own evolution and its own problems. And can such a mind, however much it may control, discipline itself, ever be free to be steady? Because without freedom the mind obviously cannot be steady. That is, a mind which is striving after success, a result, groping after something which it cannot have, is essentially narrow, conditioned, limited, made petty by that very effort; and however much it may attempt to be steady by controlling itself, can such a mind ever bring about that essential energy which comes with deep, fundamental steadiness, or will it only build another series of limitations, further pettiness? I hope I am making the problem clear. If my mind is nationalistic, bound by innumerable beliefs, superstitions, fears, caught up in envy, in resentment, in the cruelty of words, of gesture, or thought, however much it may try to think of something beyond itself, it is still limited. So the problem is how to break up this pettiness of the mind, is it not? That is one of the fundamental issues, and if it is clear, then we can proceed to find out what it means to have complete control of the mind. To find out what is truth, what is God, or whatever name you may like to give it, one must obviously have enormous energy, and in search of that energy we do all kinds of nonsensical things. Either we resort to monasteries, or become cranky about food, or we try to control the various passions, lusts, hoping thereby to canalize energy in order to find something beyond the mind. After all, that is what most of us are endeavouring to do in different ways. We are trying to control our thoughts, our desires, cultivate virtue, be watchful of our words, our actions, and so on, either with the intention of being good, respectable citizens, or in the hope of canalizing all this extraordinary vitality of desire in order to find out what lies beyond; but we cannot find that out, however much we may struggle, as long as we do not understand the pettiness of the mind. When a petty mind seeks God, its God will also be petty, obviously; its virtues will be mere respectability. So, is it possible to break up this pettiness? Is the question clear? All right, then let us proceed. Our minds are petty, envious, acquisitive, fearful, whether we admit it or not. Now, what makes the mind petty? Surely, the mind is narrow, limited, shallow, petty, as long as it is acquisitive. It may give up worldly things and become acquisitive in the pursuit of knowledge, wisdom, but it is still petty, because in acquiring it develops the will to achieve, to gain, and this very will to achieve constitutes pettiness. May I say something here about attention? Attention is very important, but attention is entirely different from concentration or absorption in something. A child is absorbed in a top; the toy attracts him, and so he gives his mind to the toy. That is what happens, is it not? The object draws the mind, absorbs the mind, or else the mind absorbs the object. If you are interested in something, the object of that interest is so enticing that it absorbs you; whereas, if you deliberately concentrate on something, which is another form of absorption, then you absorb the object, do you not? Now, I am talking of something entirely different. I am talking of an attention in which there is no object at all, no strain, no conflict, an attention in which you are neither absorbed nor are you trying to concentrate on something. In listening to what is being said here, you are endeavouring to understand, your listening has an object, therefore there is an effort, a strain, there is no relaxed attention at all. That is a fact, is it not? If you want to listen to something, there must be no strain, no effort, no object which attracts your attention and absorbs you, otherwise you are merely hypnotized by what is being said, by a personality, and all the rest of that nonsense. If you observe closely this process of absorption, you will see that in it there is always a conflict, a sense of strain, an effort to get something; whereas, in attention there is no particular object at all, you are just listening as you would listen to distant music, or to the notes of a song. In that state you are relaxed, attentive, there is no strain. So, if I may suggest, try just being attentive while you are listening to what is being said here. What I am talking about may be difficult and somewhat new, and therefore rather disturbing; but if you can listen with this relaxed attention you won't be mentally agitated, though you may be disturbed in a different way which perhaps is good. What I am saying is something which it is essential to understand. I am saying that the mind must be completely steady. But this steadiness cannot come about if the mind tries to make itself steady, because the mind, the maker of effort, is in its very nature petty. The mind may be full of encyclopaedic know- ledge, it may be capable of clever discussions and possess vast accumulations of technique, but it remains essentially petty as long as it is based on the sense of acquisitiveness and therefore on the cultivation of will, that is, as long as there is the `I', the entity who is acquiring, who is making an effort, who is putting aside and gathering. The mind may think of God, it may discipline itself, try to control its various desires in order to be virtuous, in order to have more energy to seek truth, and so on; but such a mind is narrow, limited, it can never be free and therefore steady. Our problem, then, is how to break up this pettiness of the mind. Is the question clear? If it is clear, then what are you to do? One sees the necessity of a very steady, deep, quiet mind, a mind which is completely controlled - but not controlled by a separate entity who says, `I must control it'. Do you follow? That is, I see the importance of a steady mind. Now, how is this steadiness to be brought about? If another part of the mind says, `I must have a steady mind', then it develops conflicts, controls, subjugations, does it not? One part of the mind dictates to the other part, trying to prevent it from wandering, controlling it, shaping it, disciplining it, suppressing various forms of desire; so there is conflict all the time, is there not? Now, a mind in conflict is in its very essence petty, because its desire is to acquire something. Desiring to acquire a steady mind, you say, `I must control my mind, I must shape it, I must push away all conflicting desires', but as long as there is this dual process in your thinking there must be conflict, and that very conflict indicates pettiness, because that conflict is the outcome of the desire to gain something. So, can the mind obliterate, forget this whole process of acquisition, of acquiring a very steady mind in order to find God, or whatever it is? That is, as you listen, can you see the truth of what is being said immediately? I am saying that there must be complete and absolute steadiness of the mind, and that any endeavour to achieve that state indicates a mind that is divided, a mind that says, `By Jove, I must have that steadiness, it will be marvellous', and then pursues that state through discipline, through control, through various forms of sanction, and so on. But if the mind is capable of listening to the truth of that statement, if it sees the absolute necessity of complete control, then you will find there is no endeavour to achieve a state. Is this too difficult? I'm afraid it is, because, you see, most of us think in terms of effort, there is always the entity who is making an effort to achieve a result, and hence there is conflict. You hear the statement that the mind must be absolutely steady, controlled, or you have read and thought about it, and you say, `I must have that state', so you pursue it through control, discipline, meditation, and so on. In that process there is effort, there is conformity, the following of a pattern, the establishment of authority, and the various other complications that arise. Now, any effort to achieve a result, any form of desire to acquire a state, makes for a petty mind, and such a mind can never possibly be free to be steady. If one sees the truth of that very clearly, then is there not an absolute steadiness of the mind? Do you understand? To put it differently, one can see very clearly that energy is needed for any form of action. Even if you want to be a rich man you must devote your life to it, you must give to it your concentrated energy. And to find that which is beyond the activities, the movements of the mind, which implies a tremendous depth in self-knowledge, concentrated energy is essential. Now, how is this concentrated energy to come into being? Seeing the necessity of it, we say, `I must control my temper, I must eat the right food, I must not be oversexual, I must control my passions, my lusts, my desires' - you know, we go off at tangents. These are all tangents, because the centre is still petty. As long as the mind thinks in terms of acquiring something, of achieving a result, it is ambitious, and an ambitious mind is in its very nature small, shallow. Such a mind, like that of an ambitious man in this world, obviously has a certain amount of energy; but what we are discussing demands much deeper, wider, more unlimited energy in which the self is totally absent. So, one has been conditioned through centuries, religiously, socially and morally, to control, to shape one's mind to a particular pattern, or to follow certain ideals, in order to conserve one's energy; and can such a mind break free from all that without effort and come immediately to that state in which the mind is totally still, completely steady? Then there is no such thing as distraction. Distraction exists only when you want to go in a certain direction. When you say, `I must think about this and nothing else', then everything else is a distraction. But when you are completely attentive with that attention in which there is no object because there is no process of acquiring, no cultivation of the will to achieve a result, then you will find that the mind is extraordinarily steady, inwardly still; and it is only the still mind that is free to discover or let that reality come into being. Question: How can one stop habits? Krishnamurti: If we can understand the whole process of habit, then perhaps we shall be able to stop the formation of habits. Merely to stop a particular habit is comparatively easy, but the problem is not then solved. All of us have various habits of which we are either conscious or unconscious; so we have to find out whether the mind is caught in habit, and why the mind creates habits at all. Is not most of our thinking habitual? From childhood we have been taught to think along a certain line, whether as a Christian, a Communist, or a Hindu, and we dare not deviate from that line because the very deviation is fear. So fundamentally our thinking is habitual, conditioned, our minds function along established grooves, and naturally there are also superficial habits which we try to control. Now, if the mind ceases altogether to think in habits, then we shall approach the problem of a superficial habit entirely differently. Do you understand? If you are investigating trying to find out whether your mind thinks in habits, if that is what you are really concerned with, then the habit of smoking, for example, will have quite a different meaning. That is, if you are interested in inquiring into the whole process of habit, which is at a deeper level, you will treat the habit of smoking in a totally different manner. Being inwardly very clear that you really want to stop, not only the habit of smoking, but the whole process of thinking in habits, you do not fight the automatic movement of picking up a cigarette, and all the rest of it, because you see that the more you fight that particular habit, the more life you give to it. But if you are attentive, completely aware of that habit without fighting it, then you will see that that habit ceases in its time; therefore the mind is not occupied with that habit. I do not know if you are following this. Inwardly I see very clearly that I want to stop smoking, but the habit has been set going for a number of years. Shall I fight that habit? Surely, by fighting a habit I am giving life to it. Please understand this. Any- thing I fight I am giving life to. If I fight an idea, I am giving life to that idea; if I fight you, I am giving you life to fight me. I must see that very clearly, and I can see it very clearly only if I am looking at the whole problem of habit, not just at one specific habit. Then my approach to habit is at a different level altogether. So the question now is, why does the mind think in terms of habit, the habit of relationship, the habit of ideas, the habit of beliefs, and so on? Why? Because essentially it is seeking to be secure, to be safe, to be permanent, is it not? The mind hates to be uncertain, so it must have habits as a means of security. A mind that is secure can never be free from habit, but only the mind that is completely insecure - which doesn't mean ending up in an asylum or a mental hospital. The mind that is completely insecure, that is uncertain, inquiring, perpetually finding out, that is dying to every experience, to everything it has acquired, and is therefore in a state of not knowing - only such a mind can be free of habit, and that is the highest form of thinking. Question: Is it possible to raise children without conditioning them. and if so how? If not, is there such, a thing as good and bad conditioning? Please answer this question unconditionally. (Laughter). Krishnamurti: Is it possible to raise children without conditioning them?" Is it? I don't think so. Please listen, let's go into this together. But first of all, let's dispose of this latter question, whether there is good conditioning and bad conditioning. Surely, there is only conditioning, not good and bad. You may call it a good conditioning to believe that there is God, but in Communist Russia they will say, `What nonsense, that is an evil conditioning'. What you call good conditioning, somebody else may call bad, which is obvious; so we can dispose of that question very quickly. The question is, then, can children be brought up without conditioning, without influencing them? Surely, everything about them is influencing them. Climate, food, words, gestures, conversation, the unconscious responses, other children, society, schools, books, magazines, cinemas - all that is influencing the child. And can you stop that influence? It is not possible, is it? You may not want to influence, to condition your child; but unconsciously you are influencing him, are you not? You have your beliefs, your dogmas, your fears, your moralities, your intentions, your ideas of what is good and what is bad, so consciously or unconsciously you are shaping the child. And if you don't, the school does, with its history books that say what marvellous heroes you have and the other fellows haven't, and so on. Everything is influencing the child, so let us first recognize that, which is an obvious fact. Now, the problem is, can you help the child to grow up to question all these influences intelligently? Do you understand? Knowing that the child is being influenced all around, at home as well as at school, can you help him to question every influence and not be caught in any particular influence? If it is really your intention to help your child to investigate all influences, then that is extremely arduous, is it not? Because it means questioning not only your authority, but the whole problem of authority, of nationalism, of belief, of war, of the army - you know, investigating the whole thing, which is to cultivate intelligence. And when there is that intelligence, so that the mind no longer merely accepts authority or conforms through fear, then every influence is examined and put aside; therefore, such a mind is not conditioned. Surely, that can be done, can it not? And is it not the function of education to cultivate that intelligence which is capable of examining objectively every influence, of investigating the background, the immediate as well as the deep background, so that the mind is not caught in any conditioning? After all, you are conditioned by your background, you are this background, which is made up of your Christian inheritance, of the extraordinary vitality, energy, progress of America, of innumerable influences, climatic, social, religious, dietetic, and so on. And can you not look at all that intelligently, bring it out, put it on the table and examine it, without going through the absurd process of keeping what you think is good and throwing out what you think is bad? Surely, one has to look objectively at all of this so-called culture. Cultures create religions but not the religious man. The religious man comes into being only when the mind rejects culture, which is the background, and is therefore free to find out what is true. But that demands an extraordinary alertness of mind, does it not? Such a person is not an American, an Englishman, or a Hindu, but a human being; he does not belong to any particular group, race, or culture, and is therefore free to find out what is true, what is God. No culture helps man to find out what is true. Cultures only create organizations which bind man. Therefore it is important to investigate all this, not only the conscious conditioning, but much more the unconscious conditioning of the mind. And the unconscious conditioning cannot be examined superficially by the conscious mind. It is only when the conscious mind is completely quiet that the unconscious conditioning comes out, not at any given moment, but all the time, when you are on a walk, riding in a bus, or talking to somebody. When the intention is to find out, then you will see that the unconscious conditioning comes pouring out, so the doors are open to discovery. Question: When I first heard you speak and had an interview with you, I was deeply disturbed. Then I began watching my thoughts, not condemning or comparing, and so on, and I somewhat gathered the sense of silence. Many weeks later I again had an interview with you and again received a shock, for you made it clear to me that my mind was not awake at all, and I realized that I had become somewhat smug in my achievement. Why does the mind settle down after each shock, and how is this process to be broken up? Krishnamurti: Socially, religiously and personally we are constantly avoiding any form of change, are we not? We want things to go on as they are, because the mind hates to be disturbed. When it achieves something, there it settles down. But life is a process of challenge and response, and if there is no response adequate to the challenge, there is conflict. In order to avoid that conflict, we settle down in comfortable grooves and so decay. That is a psychological fact. That is, life is a challenge, everything in life is demanding a response, but because you have your limitations, your worries, your conditioning, your beliefs, your ideals of what you should and should not do, you cannot respond to it fully; therefore there is conflict. In order to avoid or to overcome that conflict, you settle back, you do something else which gives you comfort. The mind is seeking continuously a state in which there will be no disturbance at all, which you call peace, God, or what you like; but essentially the desire is not to be disturbed. The state of non-disturbance you call peace, but it is really death. Whereas, if you understand that the mind must be in a state of continuous response and there is therefore no desire for comfort, for security, no mooring, no anchorage, no refuge in belief, in ideas, in property, and all the rest of it, then you will see that you need no shock at all. Then there is not this process of being awakened by a shock, only to fall asleep again. You see, that brings up a question which is really very important. We think we need teachers, gurus, leaders, who will help us to keep awake. Probably that is why most of you are here: you want another to help you to keep awake. When somebody can help you to keep awake, you rely on that person, and then he becomes your teacher, your guide, your leader. He may be awake, I do not know; but if you depend on him, you are asleep. (Laughter). Please don't laugh it away, because this is what we all do in our life. If it is not a leader, it's a group, or a family, or a book, or a gramophone record. So, is it possible to keep awake without any dependence at all, either on a drug, on a guru, on a discipline, on a picture, or on anything else? In experimenting with this you may make a mistake, but you say, `That doesn't matter, I am going to keep awake'. But this is a very difficult thing to do, because you depend so much on others. You have to be stimulated by a friend, by a book, by music, by a ritual, by going to a meeting regularly, and that stimulation may keep you temporarily awake; but you might just as well take a drink. The more you depend on stimulation, the duller the mind gets, and the dull mind must then be led, it must follow, it must have an authority or it is lost. So, seeing this extraordinary psychological phenomenon, is it not possible to be free from all inward dependence on any form of stimulation to keep us awake? In other words, is not the mind capable of never being caught in a habit? Which means, really, goodbye to whatever we have understood, whatever we have learnt, goodbye to everything that we have gathered of yesterday, so that the mind is again fresh, new. The mind is not new if it hasn't died to all the things of yesterday, to all the experiences, to all the envies, resentments, loves, passions, so that it is again fresh, eager, awake, and therefore capable of attention. Surely, it is only when the mind is free from all sense of inward dependence that it can find that which is immeasurable. August 20, 1955 OJAI 6TH PUBLIC TALK 21ST JULY 1955 It is an obvious fact that human beings demand something to worship. You and I and many others desire to have something sacred in our lives, and either we go to temples, to mosques, or to churches, or we have other symbols, images and ideas which we worship. The necessity to worship something seems very urgent because we want to be taken out of ourselves into something greater, wider, more profound, more permanent, so we begin to invent Masters, teachers, divine beings in heaven or on the earth, we devise various symbols, the cross, the crescent, so on. Or, if none of that is satisfactory, we speculate about what lies beyond the mind, holding that it is something sacred, something to be worshipped. That is what happens in our everyday existence, as I think most of us are well aware. There is always this effort within the field of the known, within the field of the mind, of memory, and we never seem able to break away and find something sacred that is not manufactured by the mind. So this morning I would like, if I may, to go into this question of whether there is something really sacred, something immeasurable, which cannot be fathomed by the mind. To do that, there must obviously be a revolution in our thinking, in our values. I do not mean an economic or social revolution, which is merely immature; it may superficially affect our lives, but fundamentally it is not a revolution at all. I am talking of the revolution which is brought about through self-knowledge - not through the superficial self-knowledge which is achieved by an examination of thought on the surface of the mind, but through the profound depths of self- knowledge. Surely, one of our greatest difficulties is this fact that all our effort is within the field of recognition. We seem to function only within the limits of that which we are capable of recognizing, that is, within the field of memory; and is it possible for the mind to go beyond that field? Memory is obviously essential at a certain level. I must know the road from here back to where I live. If you ask me a question about something with which I am very familiar, my response is immediate. Please, if I may suggest, observe your own mind as I am talking; because I want to go into this rather deeply, and if you merely follow the verbal explanation without applying it immediately, the explanation will have no significance whatsoever. If you listen and say, `I will think about it tomorrow or after the meeting' then it is gone, it has no value at all; but if you give complete attention to what is being said and are capable of applying it, which means being aware of your own intellectual and emotional processes, then you will see that what I am saying has significance immediately. As I was saying, there is an instantaneous response to anything that you know intimately; when a familiar question is asked, you reply easily, the reaction is immediate. And if you are asked a question with which you are not very familiar, then what happens? You begin to search in the cupboards of memory, you try to recall what you have read or thought about it, what your experience has been. That is, you turn back and look at certain memories which you have acquired; because what you call knowledge is essentially memory. But if you are asked a question of which you know nothing at all so that you have no referent in memory, and if you are capable of replying honestly that you do not know, then that state of not-knowing is the first step of real inquiry into the unknown. That is, technologically we are extraordinarily well-developed, we have become very clever in mechanical things. We go to school and learn various techniques, the `know-how' of putting engines together, of mending roads, of building airplanes, and so on, which is but the cultivation of memory. With that same mentality we wish to find something beyond the mind, so we practise a discipline, follow a system, or belong to some stupid religious organization; and all organizations of that kind are essentially stupid, however satisfactory and gratifying they may temporarily be. Now, if we can go into this matter together - and I think we can if we give our attention to it - , I would like to inquire with you whether the mind is capable of putting aside all memory of technique, all search into the known for that which is hidden. Because, when we seek, that is what we are doing, is it not? We are seeking in the field of the known for that which is not known to us. When we seek happiness, peace, God, love, or what you will, it is always within the field of the known, because memory has already given us a hint, an intimation of something, and we have faith in that. So our search is always within the field of the known. And even in science it is only when the mind completely ceases to look into the known that a new thing comes into being. But the cessation of this search into the known is not a determination, it does not come about by any action of will. To say, `I shall not look into the known but be open to the unknown' is utterly childish, it has no meaning. Then the mind invents, speculates, it experiences something which is absolute nonsense. The freedom of the mind from the known can come about only through self-knowledge, through the revolution that comes into being when every day you understand the meaning of the self. You cannot understand the meaning of the self if there is the accumulation of memory which is helping you to understand the self. Do you understand that? You see, we think we understand things by accumulating knowledge, by comparing. Surely we do not understand in that way. If you compare one thing with another, you are merely lost in comparison. You can understand something only when you give it your complete attention, and any form of comparison or evaluation is a distraction. Self-knowledge, then, is not cumulative, and I think it is very important to understand that. If self-knowledge is cumulative, it is merely mechanical. It is like the knowledge of a doctor who has learned a technique and everlastingly specializes in a certain part of the body. A surgeon may be an excellent mechanic in his surgery because he has learned the technique, he has the knowledge and the gift for it, and there is the cumulative experience which helps him. But we are not talking of such cumulative experience. On the contrary, any form of cumulative knowledge destroys further discovery; but when one discovers, then perhaps one can use the cumulative technique. Surely what I am saying is quite simple. If one is capable of studying, watching oneself, one begins to discover how cumulative memory is acting on everything one sees; one is forever evaluating, discarding or accepting, condemning or justifying, so one's experience is always within the field of the known, of the conditioned. But without cumulative memory as a directive, most of us feel lost, we feel frightened, and so we are incapable of observing ourselves as we are. When there is the accumulative process, which is the cultivation of memory, our observation of ourselves becomes very superficial. Memory is helpful in directing, improving oneself, but in self-improvement there can never be a revolution, a radical transformation. It is only when the sense of self-improvement completely ceases, but not by volition, that there is a possibility of something transcendental, something totally new coming into being. So it seems to me that as long as we do not understand the process of thinking, mere intellection, mentation, will have little value. What is thinking? Please, as I am talking, watch yourselves. What is thinking? Thinking is the response of memory, is it not? I ask you where you live, and your response is immediate, because that is something with which you are very familiar, you instantly recognize the house, the name of the street, and all the rest of it. That is one form of thinking. If I ask you a question which is a little more complicated, your mind hesitates; in that hesitation it is searching in the vast collection of memories, in the record of the past, to find the right answer. That is another form of thinking, is it not? If I ask you a still more complicated question, your mind becomes bewildered, disturbed; and as it dislikes disturbance it tries in various ways to find an answer, which is yet another form of thinking. I hope you are following all this. And if I ask you about something vast, profound, like whether you know what truth is, what God is, what love is, then your mind searches the evidence of others who you think have experienced these things, and you begin to quote, repeat. Finally, if someone points out the futility of repeating what others say. of depending on the evidence of others, which may be nonsense, then you must surely say, `I do not know'. Now, if one can really come to that state of saying, `I do not know', it indicates an extraordinary sense of humility; there is no arrogance of knowledge, there is no self-assertive answer to make an impression. When you can actually say, `I do not know', which very few are capable of saying, then in that state all fear ceases because all sense of recognition, the search into memory, has come to an end; there is no longer inquiry into the field of the known. Then comes the extraordinary thing. If you have so far followed what I am talking about, not just verbally, but if you are actually experiencing it, you will find that when you can say, `I do not know', all conditioning has stopped. And what then is the state of the mind? Do you understand what I am talking about? Am I making myself clear? I think it is important for you to give a little attention to this, if you care to. You see, we are seeking something permanent, permanent in the sense of time, something enduring, everlasting. We see that everything about us is transient, in flux, being born, withering and dying, and our search is always to establish something that will endure within the field of the known. But that which is truly sacred is beyond the measure of time, it is not to be found within the field of the known. The known operates only through thought, which is the response of memory to challenge. If I see that and I want to find out how to end thinking, what am I to do? Surely, I must through self-knowledge be aware of the whole process of my thinking. I must see that every thought, however subtle, however lofty, or however ignoble, stupid, has its roots in the known, in memory. If I see that very clearly, then the mind, when confronted with an immense problem, is capable of saying, `I do not know', because it has no answer. Then all the answers of the Buddha, of the Christ, of the Masters, the teachers, the gurus, have no meaning; because if they have a meaning, that meaning is born of the collection of memories which is my conditioning. So, if I see the truth of all that and actually put aside all the answers, which I can do only when there is this immense humility of not-knowing, then what is the state of the mind? What is the state of the mind which says, `I do not know whether there is God, whether there is love', that is, when there is no response of memory? Please don't immediately answer the question to yourselves, because if you do your answer will be merely the recognition of what you think it should or should not be. If you say, `It is a state of negation', you are comparing it with something that you already know; therefore that state in which you say, `I do not know' is non-existent. I am trying to inquire into this problem aloud so that you also can follow it through the observation of your own mind. That state in which the mind says, `I do not know', is not negation. The mind has completely stopped searching, it has ceased making any movement, for it sees that any movement out of the known towards the thing it calls the unknown is only a projection of the known. So the mind that is capable of saying, `I do not know' is in the only state in which anything can be discovered. But the man who says, `I know', the man who has studied infinitely the varieties of human experience and whose mind is burdened with information, with encyclopaedic knowledge, can he ever experience something which is not to be accumulated? He will find it extremely hard. When the mind totally puts aside all the knowledge that it has acquired, when for it there are no Buddhas, no Christs, no Masters, no teachers no religions, no quotations; when the mind is completely alone, uncontami- nated, which means that the movement of the known has come to an end - it is only then that there is a possibility of a tremendous revolution, a fundamental change. Such a change is obviously necessary; and it is only the few, you and I, or X, who have brought about in themselves this revolution, that are capable of creating a new world, not the idealists, not the intellectuals, not the people who have immense knowledge, or who are doing good works; they are not the people. They are all reformers. The religious man is he who does not belong to any religion, to any nation, to any race, who is inwardly completely alone, in a state of not-knowing, and for him the blessing of the sacred comes into being. Question: The function of the mind is to think. I have spent a great many years thinking about the things we all know: business, science, philosophy, psychology, the arts, and so on, and now I think a great deal about God. From studying the evidence of many mystics and other religious writers, I am convinced that God exists, and I am able to contribute my own thoughts on the subject. What is wrong with this? Does not thinking about God help to bring about the realization of God? Krishnamurti: Can you think about God? And can you be convinced about the existence of God because you have read all the evidence? The Atheist has also his evidence; he has probably studied as much as you, and he says there is no God. You believe that there is God, and he believes that there is not; both of you have beliefs, both of you spend your time thinking about God. But before you think about something which you do not know, you must find out what thinking is, must you not? How can you think about something which you do not know? You may have read the Bible, the Bhagavad Gita, or other books in which various erudite scholars have skilfully described what God is, asserting this and contradicting that; but as long as you do not know the process of your own thinking, what you think about God may be stupid and petty, and generally it is. You may collect a lot of evidence for the existence of God and write very clever articles about it; but surely the first question is, how do you know what you think is true? And can thinking ever bring about the experience of that which is unknowable? Which doesn't mean that you must emotionally, sentimentally accept some rubbish about God. So, is it not important to find out whether your mind is conditioned, rather than to seek that which is unconditioned? Surely, if your mind is conditioned, which it is, however much it may inquire into the reality of God, it can only gather knowledge or information according to its conditioning. So your thinking about God is an utter waste of time, it is a speculation that has no value. It is like my sitting in this grove and wishing to be on the top of that mountain. If I really want to find out what is on the top of the mountain and beyond, I must go to it. It is no good my sitting here speculating, building temples, churches, and getting excited about them. What I have to do is to stand up, walk, struggle, push, get there and find out; but as most of us are unwilling to do that, we are satisfied to sit here and speculate about something which we do not know. And I say such speculation is a hindrance, it is a deterioration of the mind, it has no value at all; it only brings more confusion, more sorrow to man. So, God is something that cannot be talked about, that cannot be described, that cannot be put into words, because it must ever remain the unknown. The moment the recognizing process takes place, you are back in the field of memory. Do you understand? Say, for instance, you have a momentary experience of something extraordinary. At that precise moment there is no thinker who says, `I must remember it; there is only the state of experiencing. But when that moment goes by, the process of recognition comes into being. Please follow this. The mind says, `I have had a marvellous experience and I wish I could have more of it', so the struggle of the more begins. The acquisitive instinct, the possessive pursuit of the more comes into being for various reasons: because it gives you pleasure, prestige, knowledge, you become an authority, and all the rest of that nonsense. The mind pursues that which it has experienced; but that which it has experienced is already over, dead, gone and to discover that which is, the mind must die to that which it has experienced. This is not something that can be cultivated day after day that can be gathered, accumulated held, and then talked and written about. All that we can do is to see that the mind is conditioned and through self-knowledge to understand the process of our own thinking. I must know myself, not as I would ideologically like to be, but as I actually am, however ugly or beautiful, however jealous, envious, acquisitive. But it is very difficult just to see what one is without wishing to change it, and that very desire to change it is another form of conditioning; and so we go on, moving from conditioning to conditioning, never experiencing something beyond that which is limited. Question: I have listened to you for many years and I have become quite good at watching my our thoughts and being aware of every thing I do, but I have never touched the deep waters or experienced the transformation of which you speak. Why? Krishnamurti: I think it is fairly clear why none of us do experience something beyond the mere watching. There may be rare moments of an emotional state in which we see, as it were, the clarity of the sky between clouds, but I do not mean anything of that kind. All such experiences are temporary and have very little significance. The questioner wants to know why, after these many years of watching, he hasn't found the deep waters. Why should he find them? Do you understand? You think that by watching your own thoughts you are going to get a reward: if you do this, you will get that. You are really not watching at all, because your mind is concerned with gaining a reward. You think that by watching, by being aware, you will be more loving, you will suffer less, be less irritable, get something beyond; so your watching is a process of buying. With this coin you are buying that, which means that your watching is a process of choice; therefore it isn't watching, it isn't attention. To watch is to observe without choice, to see yourself as you are without any movement of desire to change, which is an extremely arduous thing to do; but that doesn't mean that you are going to remain in your present state. You do not know what will happen if you see yourself as you are without wishing to bring about a change in that which you see. Do you understand? I am going to take an example and work it out, and you will see. Let us say I am violent, as most people are. Our whole culture is violent; but I won't enter into the anatomy of violence now, because that is not the problem we are considering. I am violent, and I realize that I am violent. What happens? My immediate response is that I must do something about it, is it not? I say I must be- come non-violent. That is what every religious teacher has told us for centuries: that if one is violent one must become non-violent. So I practise, I do all the ideological things. But now I see how absurd that is, because the entity who observes violence and wishes to change it into non-violence, is still violent. So I am concerned, not with the expression of that entity, but with the entity himself. You are following all this, I hope. Now, what is that entity who says, `I must not be violent'? Is that entity different from the violence he has observed? Are they two different states? Do you understand, sirs, or is this too abstract? It is near the end of the talk and probably you are a bit tired. Surely, the violence and the entity who says, `I must change violence into non-violence', are both the same. To recognize that fact is to put an end to all conflict, is it not? There is no longer the conflict of trying to change, because I see that the very movement of the mind not to be violent is itself the outcome of violence. So, the questioner wants to know why it is that he cannot go beyond all these superficial wrangles of the mind. For the simple reason that, consciously or unconsciously, the mind is always seeking something, and that very search brings violence, competition, the sense of utter dissatisfaction. It is only when the mind is completely still that there is a possibility of touching the deep waters. Question: When we die, are we reborn on this earth, or do we pass on into some other world? Krishnamurti: This question interests all of us, the young and the old, does it not? So I am going into it rather deeply, and I hope you will be good enough to follow, not just the words, but the actual experience of what I am going to discuss with you. We all know that death exists, especially the older people, and also the young who observe it. The young say, `Wait till it comes and we'll deal with it; and as the old are already near death, they have recourse to various forms of consolation. Please follow and apply this to yourselves, don't put it off on somebody else. Because you know you are going to die, you have theories about it, don't you? You believe in God, you believe in resurrection, or in karma and reincarnation; you say that you will be reborn here, or in another world. Or you rationalize death, saying that death is inevitable, it happens to everybody; the tree withers away, nourishing the soil, and a new tree comes up. Or else you are too occupied with your daily worries, anxieties, jealousies, envies, with your competition and your wealth, to think about death at all. But it is in your mind, consciously or unconsciously it is there. First of all, can you be free of the beliefs, the rationalities, or the indifference that you have cultivated towards death? Can you be free of all that now? Because what is important is to enter the house of death while living, while fully conscious, active, in health, and not wait for the coming of death, which may carry you off instantaneously through an accident, or through a disease that slowly makes you unconscious. When death comes it must be an extraordinary moment which is as vital as living. Now, can I, can you, enter the house of death while living? That is the problem, not whether there is reincarnation, or whether there is another world where you will be reborn, which is all so immature, so infantile. A man who lives never asks what is living and he has no theories about living. It is only the half-alive who talk about the purpose of life. So, can you and I while living, conscious, active, with all our capacities, whatever they be, know what death is? And is death then different from living? To most of us, living is a continuation of that which we think is permanent. Our name, our family, our property, the things in which we have a vested interest economically and spiritually, the virtues that we have cultivated, the things that we have acquired emotionally - all of that we want to continue. And the moment which we call death is a moment of the unknown, therefore we are frightened, so we try to find a consolation, some kind of comfort; we want to know if there is life after death, and a dozen other things. Those are all irrelevant problems, they are problems for the lazy, for those who do not want to find out what death is while living. So, can you and I find out? What is death? Surely, it is the complete cessation of everything that you have known. If it is not the cessation of everything you have known, it is not death. If you know death already, then you have nothing to be frightened of. But do you know death? That is, can you while living put an end to this everlasting struggle to find in the impermanent something that will continue? Can you know the unknowable, that state which we call death, while living? Can you put aside all the descriptions of what happens after death which you have read in books, or which your unconscious desire for comfort dictates, and taste or experience that state, which must be extraordinary, now? If that state can be experienced now, then living and dying are the same. So, can I, who have vast education, knowledge, who have had innumerable experiences, struggles, loves, hates - can that `I' come to an end? The `I' is the recorded memory of all that; and can that `I' come to an end? Without being brought to an end by an accident, by a disease, can you and I while sitting here know that end? Then you will find that you will no longer ask foolish questions about death and continuity, whether there is a world hereafter. Then you will know the answer for yourself, because that which is unknowable will have come into being. Then you will put aside the whole rigmarole of reincarnation, and the many fears -the fear of living and the fear of dying, the fear of growing old and inflicting on others the trouble of looking after you, the fear of loneliness and dependency - will all have come to an end. These are not vain words. It is only when the mind ceases to think in terms of its own continuity that the unknowable comes into being. August 21, 1955 OJAI 7TH PUBLIC TALK 27TH JULY 1955 One of our gravest problems, it seems to me, is this question of violence and the desire on our part to find peace. I do not think peace can be found without comprehending the whole anatomy of violence. And peace is not something which is the opposite of violence; it is a totally different state, therefore it cannot be conceived by a mind that is caught up in violence. As most of our lives are entrenched in violence, and most of our thought is hedged about by violence, it seems to me that it is very important to understand this problem, which is very complex and needs a great deal of penetration, insight; and this afternoon I would like, if I can, to go into it. Strangely, no organized religions, except perhaps Buddhism and Hinduism, have ever stopped wars and put an end to this astonishing antagonism between man and man. On the contrary, some so-called religions have instigated wars and have been responsible for an enormous slaughter of human beings. Our lives, as we examine them daily, are fraught with violence; and why is it that we are violent? From where does violence spring, and can we really put an end to it? It seems to me that one can come to the end of violence, drastically, radically put a stop to it, only when one understands from what source this violence springs. And I would beg of you not merely to listen to my description of violence, but rather in the very process of my talking to observe the ways of your own thinking, and through the description perhaps experience directly the issue that lies behind this word `violence'. Why is it that we are violent, not only as a race, but also as individuals? I do not know if you have ever asked yourself that question. And what is our approach to violence when we look at it, when we are aware of it, when we think about it? Obviously, most of us say it cannot be helped; we are brought up in this particular society, which conditions, encourages us to be violent, and so we slur over the problem very briefly and quickly. But let us see if we cannot go below all that and investigate this problem to find out why each one of us has this extraordinary feeling of violence, and whether it is possible to put an end to it, not superficially, but fundamentally, deeply. Obviously, this culture, this civilization is based on violence, not only in the Western world, but also in the East; society encourages violence, our whole economic, social and religious structure is based on it. I am using that word `violence', not in the superficial sense of anger or animosity only, but to include this whole problem of acquisition, of competition, the desire on the part of the individual as well as the collective to seek power. Surely, that desire breeds violence, does it not? There must be violence as long as I am competing with another, as long as I am ambitious, acquisitive - acquisitive, not only in the worldly sense of being greedy for many things, but acquisitive in a deeper sense of that word, which is to be driven by the urge to become something, to dominate, to have security, an unassailable position. So, as long as one is seeking power in any form, surely there must be violence. Please do not say, `In a culture that is based on violence, what shall I as an individual do?' I think that question will be answered if you can listen to what is being said and not ask what is to be done. The doing is not important. The action comes, I think, when we understand this whole complex problem of violence. To be eager to act with regard to violence without understanding the desire to be something, the desire to assert, to dominate, to become, is really quite immature. Whereas, if we can understand the whole process of violence and perceive the truth of it, then I think that very perception will bring about an action which is not premeditated and therefore true. I do not know if you are following this. We see in the world what is happening. Every politician talks about peace, and everything he does is preparing for division, for antagonism, for war. And it seems to me very important that those of us who are really serious about such matters should understand the truth of the problem, and not ask what to do; because if we understand the truth of the problem, that very perception of what is true will precipitate an action which is not yours or mine, and of which we cannot possibly envisage or foresee all the implications. It is an obvious fact that everything we do in this world, socially, economically and religiously, is based on violence, that is, on the desire for power, position, prestige, in which is involved ambition, achievement, success. The enormous buildings that we put up, the colossal churches, all indicate that sense of power. I wonder if you have noticed these extraordinary buildings, and what your reaction is when you see them? They may have beauty, but to me beauty is something entirely different. For beauty there must be austerity and a total abandonment; and there cannot be abandonment if there is any sense of ambition expressing itself as an achievement. When there is austerity there is simplicity, and only the mind that is simple can abandon itself; and out of this abandonment comes love. Such a state is beauty. But of that we are totally unaware. Our civilization, our culture is based on arrogance, on the sense of achievement, and in society we are at each other's throats, violently competing to achieve, to acquire, to dominate, to become somebody. These are obvious psychological facts. Now, why does this state of violence exist? And recognizing this state, can we go beyond it? If we can, then I think we shall be able to penetrate into something entirely different. Let us take, as an example, the desire to dominate. Why do we want to dominate? First of all, are we at all aware, in our relationships and in our attitude towards life, of this sense of domination, this sense of wanting power, position? If we are aware of it, from what does it spring? Do you understand what I am asking? If we can discover from what the sense of domination springs, that discovery may answer the question of why we are violent. We are all violent in the sense that we all in different ways want to be somebody; we are competitive, ambitious, acquisitive, we want to dominate. Those are the outward symptoms of an inward state, and we are trying to find out what that inward state is which makes us do these things. And are we aware of that state at all, or are we merely adjusting to a moral pattern, being ideologically non-violent, unambitious, without really tackling the source, the root which makes us do all these things? If we can go into that, then perhaps our approach to the problem of violence will be entirely different. So please listen to what is being said, not with an attitude of, `Oh, is that all?', but rather let it be a self-discovery. If through my talking about it you can discover, actually experience the thing for yourself, then it will have an extraordinary effect. Why am I violent? I want to find out. I see that I am violent because socially, religiously, there is this extraordinary urge to be something. That is a fact. In the business world I want to be richer, to be more capable, to be on top, and in the so-called spiritual world I follow an authority who will help me to be something there. So I see that my activities, my thoughts, my relationships are all based on domination, on dependence. When I depend I must follow an authority, which breeds violence. Now, I want to understand the whole process of violence, and not merely adjust to a social pattern, which is very superficial and not at all interesting. I want to find out if the mind can be totally free from violence, if this whole process can be radically uprooted from the mind. I am really interested in this, I want to find out. I see that mere adjustment of the superficial urges, demands and influences to a different pattern, does not solve the problem. To substitute one social structure for another, to set up a Communist society in place of a Capitalist society, will not bring about freedom from domination, freedom from violence. I see that, so I am inquiring into myself to find out what is the source of all these extraordinary urges, demands, pursuits, which breed animosity, violence. Why am I violent, competitive, ambitious, acquisitive? Why is there in me this constant struggle to be, to become? Obviously, I am running away, taking flight from something through ambition, through acquisitiveness, through wanting to be a success. I am afraid of something, which is making me do all these things. Fear is a state of escape. So I am inquiring into what it is that I am really afraid of. I am not for the moment concerned with the fear of darkness, of public opinion, of what somebody may or may not say of me, because all that is very superficial; I am trying to find out what it is that is fundamentally making me afraid, which in turn drives me to be ambitious, competitive, acquisitive, envious, thereby creating animosity, and all the rest of it. Please think with me. First of all, it seems to me that we are very lonely people. I am very lonely, inwardly empty, and I don't like that state, I am afraid of it, so I shun it, I run away from it. The very running away creates fear, and to avoid that fear I indulge in various kinds of action. There is obviously this emptiness in me, in you, from which the mind is escaping through action, through ambition, through the urge to be somebody, to acquire more knowledge - you know, the whole business of violence. And without running away, can the mind look at this emptiness, this extraordinary sense of loneliness, which is the ultimate expression of the self? - the self being the entity, the self-consciousness which is empty when it doesn't run. Do you understand what I am explaining? If it is not clear I shall talk about it in a different manner. After all, the self, the ego, the `I' is expressing itself through ambition, through acquisitiveness, through envy, through being violent and trying to be non-violent, and so on. These are all expressions of the `me'. I see all that, and going behind it, I also see that that very activity of the self arises from this extraordinary sense of emptiness. I do not know if you have noticed that when you have traced the `I' in all its movements, you come to this point where the mind is totally aware of the self as being completely empty; but the mind has never really looked at this emptiness, it has always run away, taken flight. Now, if I can understand what this emptiness is, then perhaps I shall be able to solve the problem of violence; but to understand what emptiness is I must look at it, and I cannot look at it as long as I am running away. It is the very running away which causes fear and precipitates the action of envy, competitiveness, ruthlessness, enmity, and all the rest of it. So, can the mind look at the thing from which it has always run away into action? I hope I am making myself clear. Aren't you aware that you are lonely, empty? We are not considering what you should do about it. The 'what you should do about it' has produced this stupid, chaotic world. I am asking what is back of the desire to do something, which is extremely difficult to discover, because the mind has always avoided that central issue. But if the mind can be totally aware of itself as being empty, lonely, which means a complete discovery of the ways of the self which have brought it to that state, then you will find that any action, any action without that understanding must precipitate violence in different forms. Being a mere pacifist, or an ideologist who is pro-this and anti-that, does not solve the problem. The man who practises non-violence hasn't solved the problem of violence at all; he is merely practising an idea, and he has never tackled this deep, fundamental issue from which all action springs. Now, please watch yourself, do not just follow my description. Can your mind be aware of this emptiness without running away from it? It is because you are empty, lonely, that you want a companion, you want somebody on whom to depend, and that dependence breeds authority which you follow; so the very following of authority is an indication of violence. Can the mind, seeing the truth of all that, stop running away and look at this emptiness? Do you understand what it means to look? You cannot look at this emptiness if you are frightened of it, if you want to avoid it; you can be fully aware of it only when there is no sense of condemnation. Please follow this closely. I am going into it slowly, deliberately, so that our communication and understanding can be equal. I am aware that I am lonely, empty, and I am watching that emptiness; but I cannot watch it if I condemn it. The very condemnation is a distraction from watching. Now, can I watch, be aware of it, without giving it a name? Do you understand? And when I do not give it a name, is the observer who watches it different from that which he watches? It is only when the watcher gives it a name that there is a division, isn't it? Do you follow? Goodness! I'll make it simpler. When I say, `I am angry', the very naming of that sensation, that reaction, brings about a duality, does it not? But if I do not name it, then that very thing is myself. Do you understand? Look, I name a feeling because the mind is trained to recognize, to give a label; but if the mind doesn't give a label, then the separation, the division between the observer and the observed disappears. In other words, when naming ceases there is only a state, and in that state there is no separate entity to do something about it. The mind is no longer operating upon that which it wishes to understand, therefore there is a cessation of the activity of the mind which in its very nature is violent. Please, this is not intellectual. Don't say it is too high-flown, too abstract, it is absurd, and all that. I am inquiring step by step into the anatomy of violence. Our social structure is based on violence; not only is there violence between nations, but individually we are at each other's throats, we are competitive, ruthless. Now, if I want to understand that whole problem, I must understand the activities of the mind in relation to this thing which I call emptiness; and the moment there is that understanding, I no longer want to be anything. Do you follow? It is the desire to be something that breeds enmity and violence. The idealist who wants to create a perfect Utopia is in his very nature violent. The man who is practising non-violence is a violent human being because he hasn't really understood the problem; he is dealing with it superficially. So, I see that as long as the mind is operating in terms of ambition or non-ambition, it must create chaos, struggle, misery for itself and for others. And if the mind, going more deeply into the problem, understands the whole process of this urge to be something, then it must inevitably come to the point where it sees that it is seeking an escape from not being anything, which is a state of emptiness. And can I understand that emptiness? Can the mind go into it, taste of it, feel it out? Surely, the mind cannot experience and understand that extraordinary thing that we call emptiness, loneliness, as long as it is in any way condemning it, as long as it wants to reject, dominate, or go beyond it. The mind will reject, dominate that state as long as it is giving it a name; and recognizing, naming, is the very process of the mind. After all, you cannot think without symbols, without ideas, without words. And can the mind cease to verbalize? Can it let that process come to an end and look at what it has called emptiness without giving it a name or creating an imaginative symbol? And when it does, then is the state which it has called emptiness different from itself? Surely it is not. Then there is only a state in which there is no verbalization, no naming, and therefore the whole activity of the mind which separates, which competes, which breeds antagonism, has come to an end. In that state there is quite a different move- ment taking place. It is no longer violent. There is a gentleness that cannot be understood by the mind which says, `I must be gentle'. All volition has totally ceased, for will is also the outcome of violence. Question: What you say seems so foreign and Oriental. Is such a teaching as yours applicable to our Western civilization which is based on efficiency and progress, and which is raising the standard of living throughout the world? Krishnamurti: Do you think thought is Oriental and Occidental? Manners may vary. I may eat with my hands in India, another with chop-sticks in China, and here you eat in still a different way; but what makes the Oriental outlook different from the Western outlook? Is there a difference? If I were born in America and said the same things that I am saying now, would you say it is Oriental? Perhaps you would say it is mystical, impractical, or eccentric. But the problems are the same, whether in India, in Japan, or here. We are human beings, not Asiatics and Americans, Russians and Germans, Communists and Capitalists. We all have the same human problems. Now, what I am saying is applicable, surely, both here and in India. Violence is as much your problem as it is a problem in India. The problem of relationship, of love, of beauty, the problem of bringing about a state of mind in which there will be peace, of creating a society which will not be destructive of itself as well as of others - all that is obviously the concern of each one of us, whether we live in the East or in the West. Here you have the problem of the building up of an army, which is an indication of the deterioration of any society, because the very basis of the army is authority, nationalism, security; and it is exactly the same problem in India, in Japan, in Asia. So this arbitrary division of thought as Oriental and Occidental does not exist for one who is really inquiring. The man who is conditioned by an Asiatic outlook or philosophy, and who tells you how to live according to that conditioning, is obviously dividing thought as Oriental and Occidental. But we are talking of something entirely different, which is to free the mind from all conditioning, not shape it according to an Oriental philosophy, which is too childish. What we are trying to do is to investigate together the extraordinary complexity of our lives, and to find out if we can really look at these complex problems very simply; but one cannot look at these problems very simply unless one understands oneself. The self is an extraordinarily complex being, with innumerable contradictory desires. We are everlastingly at war within ourselves, and this inner conflict precipitates itself into outer activities. To understand the self, the conscious as well as the unconscious, is an enormous task, and one can only understand it from day to day, from moment to moment. It is a book that never ends, therefore it is not something to be concluded. So, if one can listen to what is being said, not as an American, a European, or an Oriental, but as a human being who is directly concerned with all these problems, then together we shall create a different world; then we shall be really religious people. Religion is the search for truth, and for the religious person there is no nationality, no country, no philosophy; he does not follow anybody, therefore he is really a revolutionary in the most profound sense of the word. Question: Is the release we experience in various forms of self-expression an illusion, or is this sense of fulfilment related to the creativeness of which you speak? Krishnamurti: Is there such a thing as self-fulfilment at all? We have accepted that there is, have we not? If I am an artist, I must fulfil; if you are a writer, you must fulfil. We are all trying to fulfil ourselves in different ways, through family, through children, through husband or wife, through property, through ideas. If you are ambitious you must fulfil your ambition, otherwise you are thwarted, and in that very thwarting there is misery. We are all trying to fulfil ourselves, but we have never asked if there is such a thing as self-fulfilment at all. Surely, the man who is seeking fulfilment is hounded by frustration. That is simple enough, is it not? If I am all the time trying to fulfil through my son, through my wife, through an idea, through action, there is always the shadow of frustration and fear behind it. So if I want to understand fear, frustration, the agony of psychosomatic complexities and all the rest of it, I must question this whole idea that there is such a thing as fulfilling myself, which is the `me' trying to become something. May not the `me' be an illusion, though a reality in the sense that it is operative in action? To the man who is ambitious, competitive, acquisitive, envious, the `me' is not illusory, it is a very real thing. But to a man who begins to inquire into this whole problem, who really wants to understand what is peace, not the peace of terror, the peace of politicians, nor the peace of self-satisfaction after gathering something which one has longed for, but the peace in which there is no contention, no struggle to be anything - to such a man there comes the experience of being totally nothing, and in that state there is a creativity which is timeless. What we call creativeness is a process of learning a technique and expressing it, but I am talking of something entirely different, of a mind in which the self is totally absent. Question: Does the creativeness of which you speak confine itself to the ecstasy of personal atonement, or might it also liberate one's power to make use of one's own and other men's scientific achievements for the helping of man? Krishnamurti: Such questions - if this happens, then what will follow? - are obviously put by people who are listening very superficially. As I said, the action of a man who is seeking, and for whom reality comes into being, will be different from that of the man who has had a glimpse of this state and tries to express it. After all, most of us are educated in some kind of technique: painting engineering, medicine, and so on. That is obviously necessary, but merely learning the mechanics of a particular profession is not going to release this creative thing. Creative reality - call it God, truth, or what you like - comes into being, not through a technique, but only when the mind has understood itself. And do you know how difficult it is to understand oneself? It is difficult because we are diletantes, we are not really interested. But if you are really aware, if you give your whole attention to understanding yourself, then you will find an indestructible treasure. You don't have to read a single book about philosophy, psychology, analysis, and all the rest of it, because you are the total content of all humanity, and without understanding yourself, you will go on creating innumerable problems, endless miseries. To understand oneself requires, not impetuous urges, conclusions, but great patience. One must go slowly, millimeter by millimeter, never missing a step - which doesn't mean that you must everlastingly keep awake. You can't. It does imply that you must watch, and drop what you have watched, let it go and pick it up again, so that the mind does not become a mere accumulation of what it has learnt but is capable of watching each thing anew. When the mind is capable of looking at itself and understanding itself, then there is that creativeness of reality, and such a mind can use technique without causing misery. Question: What is the significance of dreams, and how can one interpret them for oneself? Krishnamurti: I would like to go into this question rather deeply and not just deal with it superficially, and I hope you are sufficiently interested to follow it step by step. Most of us dream. There are nightmares from overeating, or from eating the wrong things, but I am not talking of such dreams. I am talking of dreams that have a psychological significance. There are various states in dreaming, are there not? You dream, wake up, and then you try to find the meaning of what you have dreamt, you interpret it. The interpretation depends on your knowledge, on your conditioning, on what you have learnt from various philosophers, psychologists, and so on. And if you misinterpret, your whole conclusion will be wrong. Then one may dream, and as one is dreaming the interpretation is going on at the same time, so that one wakes up with clarity; one has understood the dream and it is no longer influencing one. I do not know if that has happened to you So the problem is, not how to interpret dreams, but why we dream at all. Do you understand? If you interpret your dreams according to any psychologist, then the interpretation depends on his particular conditioning; and if you try to interpret them for yourself, your interpretation is shaped by your own conditioning. In either case the interpretation may be wrong, and any conclusion or action based upon it may therefore prove to be entirely false. So the problem is, not how to interpret dreams, but why do you dream at all? If you could solve that problem, then interpretation would not be necessary. If you could really understand the whole process of dreaming, then it would become a very simple issue. Why do we dream? Please, let us think out together, not according to some authority who has written a book about it. Leave all those things completely aside, if you can, and let us think it out together very simply. Why do we dream? What do we mean by dreaming? You go to bed, fall asleep, and while you are asleep, action is going on, taking the form of various symbols or scenes; and on waking you say, `Yes, that is the dream I have had.' Now, what has happened? Please follow this, it is very simple. When you are awake during the day, the superficial mind is occupied with many things, with your job, with quarrels, with children, with money, with going to the market, with washing dishes - you know, it is occupied with dozens of things. But the superficial mind is not the whole mind: there is also the unconscious, is there not? You don't have to read a book to find out that there is an unconscious. Our hidden motives, our instinctual responses, our racial urges, our inherited contradictions, beliefs -they are all there in the unconscious. The unconscious obviously wants to tell the superficial mind something, and as the superficial mind is quiet when it is asleep, the unconscious tries to tell it. The unconscious is also in movement all the time, only it has no opportunity to express anything during the day, so it projects various symbols when the conscious mind is asleep, and then we say, `I have had a dream'. It is not complex if you can go into it. Now, I do not want to occupy myself everlastingly with the interpretation of dreams, which is like being occupied with the kitchen, with God, with drink, with women, or what you will. I want to find out why I dream, and whether it is possible not to dream at all. The psychologists may say it is impossible not to dream, but leave the experts to their expertness and let us find out. (Laughter). No, no, please don't laugh it off. Why are there dreams? And is it possible for dreams to come to an end without suppressing or trying to go beyond dreaming, so that in sleep the mind is totally still? I want to find out, so that is my first inquiry. Why do I dream? I dream because my conscious mind is occupied during the day with so many things. But can the conscious mind be open during the day to all the unconscious intimations and promptings? Do you understand? Can the superficial mind be so alert during the day that it is aware of the unconscious motives, the glimpses of the things that are hidden, without trying to suppress them, change them, do something about them? If you can be merely aware, not critically, but choicelessly, of this whole conflict; if you can be open so that the unconscious gives its hints from moment to moment during the day, while you are on the bus or riding in a car, while you are sitting at table or talking to friends; if you can just watch how you look at somebody, the manner of your speech, the way you treat people who are not of your own quality, then you will find, as you observe deeper, more profoundly, that there is the cessation of dreaming altogether. Then there is no need for intimations, hints from the unconscious during sleep to tell you what you should or should not do, because the whole thing is being revealed as you are living from day to day. So, we have come to a very interesting point, which is this. During the daytime the mind is extraordinarily alert, watching without judging, without condemning; and when the whole process of consciousness has been uncovered, examined and understood, then you will find that in sleep there is a total quietness, and that, being totally quiet, the mind can go to depths which it is not possible for the waking consciousness to touch at any time. Do you understand? I am afraid not. I shall explain again, and I hope you don't mind being a little late. You see, our search is for happiness, for peace, for God, for truth, and so on; there is a constant struggle to adjust, to love, to be kind, to be generous, to put away this and acquire that. If we are at all aware, we know that to be a fact; there is this total activity of turmoil, of struggle, of adjustment, going on all the time, and a mind in that state can obviously never find anything new. But if I am aware during the day of the various thoughts and motives that arise, if I am aware that I am ambitious, condemning, judging, criticizing, and see the whole of that activity, then what happens? My mind is no longer struggling, it is no longer pushing, there is not that turmoil created by the urge to find. So the mind is completely quiet, not only the superficial mind, but the whole content of consciousness; and in that state of complete quietness in which there is no movement to find, no effort to be or not to be, the mind can touch depths which it can never possibly touch when it is trying to find something. That is why it is very important to be aware without condemnation, to look without criticism, without judgment. And you can do this all day long, off and on, so that the mind is no longer an instrument of struggle when it sleeps, is no longer catching intimations from the unconscious through symbols and trying to interpret them, is no longer inventing the astral plane and all that nonsense. Being free from all conditioning, the mind in sleep is then capable of penetrating into depths which the waking consciousness can never reach; and when you awake you will find there is a newness totally unexperienced before. It is like shedding the past and being born anew. August 27, 1955 OJAI 8TH PUBLIC TALK 28TH JULY 1955 It is quite difficult, I think, to differentiate between the collective and the individual, and to discover where the collective ends and the individual begins; also to see the significance of the collective, and to find out whether it is at all possible ever to be free from the collective so as to bring about the totality of the individual. I do not know if you have thought about this problem at all, but it seems to me that it is one of the fundamental issues confronting the world, especially at the present time when so much emphasis is being laid on the collective. Not only in the Communistic countries, but also in the Capitalistic world where welfare states are being created, as in England, more and more significance is being given to the collective; there are collective farms and co-operatives in various forms, and looking at all this one wonders where the individual comes into the picture, and whether there is an individual at all. Are you an individual? You have a particular name, a private bank account, a separate house, certain facial and psychological differentiations, but are you an individual? I think it is very important to go into this, because it is only when there is the incorruptibility of the individual, which I shall discuss presently, that there is a possibility of something totally new taking place. That implies finding out for oneself where the collective ends, if it ends at all, and where the individual begins, which involves the whole problem of time. This is quite a complex subject, and being complex, one must attack it simply, directly, not in a roundabout way, and if I may I would like to go into it this morning. Please, if I may suggest, observe your own thinking as I am talking and do not merely listen with approval or disapproval to what is being said. If you are merely listening with approval or disapproval, with a superficial intellectual outlook, then this talk and the talks that have taken place will be utterly useless. Whereas, if one is capable of observing the functioning of one's own mind as I am describing it, then that very observation does bring about an astonishing action which is not imposed or compelled. I think it is very important for each one of us to find out where the collective ends and where the individual begins. Or, though modified by temperament, personal idiosyncrasies, and so on, is the whole of our thinking, our being, the collective? The collective is the conglomeration of various conditionings brought about by social action and reaction, by the influences of education, by religious beliefs, dogmas, tenets, and all the rest of it. This whole heterogeneous process is the collective, and if you examine, look at yourself, you will see that everything you think, your beliefs or non-belief, your ideals or opposition to ideals, your efforts, your envies, your urges, your sense of social responsibility - all that is the result of the collective. If you are a pacifist, your pacificism is the result of a particular conditioning. So, if we look at ourselves, it is astonishing to see how completely we are the collective. After all, in the Western world, where Christianity has existed for so many centuries, you are brought up in that particular conditioning. You are educated either as a Catholic or a Protestant, with all the divisions of Protestantism. And once you are educated as a Christian, as a Hindu, or whatever it be, believ- ing in all kinds of stuff - hell, damnation, purgatory, the only Saviour, original sin, and innumerable other beliefs - , by that you are conditioned, and though you may deviate, the residue of that conditioning is there in the unconscious. You are forever afraid of hell, or of not believing in a particular Saviour, and so on. So, as one looks at this extraordinary phenomenon, it seems rather absurd to call oneself an individual. You may have individual tastes, your name and your face may be quite different from those of another, but the very process of your thinking is entirely the result of the collective. The racial instincts, the traditions, the moral values, the extraordinary worship of success, the desire for power, position, wealth, which breeds violence -surely, all that is the result of the collective, inherited through centuries. And from all this conglomeration is it possible to extricate the individual? Or is it utterly impossible? If we are at all serious in the matter of bringing about a radical change, a revolution, isn't it very important to consider this point fundamentally? Because it is only for the man who is an individual in the sense in which I am using that word, who is not contaminated by the collective, who is entirely alone, not lonely, but completely alone inwardly - it is only for such an individual that reality comes into being. To put it differently, we start our lives with assumptions, with postulates: that there is or there is not God, that there is heaven, hell, that there must be a certain form of relationship, morality, that a particular ideology must prevail, and so on. With these assumptions, which are the product of the collective, we build a structure which we call education, which we call religion, and we create a society in which rugged individualism is either rampant or controlled. This society is based on the assumption that it is inevitable and necessary to have competition, that there must be ambition, envy. And is it possible not to build on any assumption, but to build as we inquire, as we discover? If the discovery is that of somebody else, then we immediately enter the field of the collective, which is the field of authority; but if each one of us starts with freedom from assumptions, from all postulates, then you and I will build a totally different society, and it seems to me that this is one of the most fundamental issues at the present time. Now, seeing this whole process, not only at the conscious level, but at the unconscious level as well - the unconscious being also the residue of the collective - , is it possible to extricate from it the individual? Which means, is it possible to think at all if thinking is stripped of the collective? Is not all your thinking collective? If you are educated as a Catholic, a Methodist, a Baptist, or what you will, your thinking is the result of the collective, conscious or unconscious; your thinking is the result of memory, and memory is the collective. This is rather complex, and one must go into it rather slowly, neither agreeing nor disagreeing; we are trying to find out. When we say there is freedom of thought, it seems to me such utter nonsense, because, as you and I think, thinking is the reaction of memory, and memory is the outcome of the collective, the collective being Christian, Hindu, and all the rest of it. So, there can never be freedom of thought as long as thinking is based on memory. Please, this is not mere logic. Don't brush it aside that way, saying, `Oh well, this is just intellectual logic'. It isn't. It happens to be logical, but I am describing a fact. As long as thought is the reaction of memory, which is the residue of the collective, the mind must function in the field of time, time being the continuation of memory as yesterday, today and to- morrow. For such a mind there is always death, corruptibility and fear, and however much it may seek something incorruptible, beyond time, it can never find it, because its thought is the result of time, of memory, of the collective. So, can a mind whose thought is the result of the collective, whose thought is the collective, extricate itself from all that? Which means, can the mind know the timeless, the incorruptible, that which is alone, which is not influenced by any society? Don't assert or deny, don't say, `I have had an experience of it' - all that has no meaning, because this is really an extraordinarily complex question. We can see that there will always be corruption as long as the mind is functioning in the collective. It may invent a better code of morality, bring about more social reforms, but all that is within the collective influence, and therefore corruptible. Surely, to find out if there is a state which is not corruptible, which is timeless, which is immortal, the mind must be totally free from the collective; and if there is total freedom from the collective, will the individual be anti-collective? Or will he not be anti-collective, but will function at a totally different level which the collective may reject? Are you following all this? The problem is, can the mind ever go beyond the collective? If there is no possibility of going beyond the collective, then we must be content with decorating the collective, opening up windows in the prison, installing better lights, more bathrooms, and so on. That is what the world is concerned with, which it calls progress, a higher standard of living. I am not against a higher standard of living, that would be silly, especially if one comes from India where one sees starvation as it is never seen in any other part of the world except perhaps in China, where people have half a meal a day and not even that, where there is sorrow suffering, disease, and the incapacity to revolt because they are starved. So, no intelligent man can be against a higher standard of living; but if that is all, then life is merely materialistic. Then suffering is inevitable; then ambition, competition, antagonism, ruthless efficiency, war, and the whole structure of the modern world, with occasional witch-hunting and social reform, is perfectly all right. But if one begins to inquire into the problem of sorrow - sorrow as death, sorrow as frustration, sorrow as the darkness of ignorance - , then one must question this whole structure, not just parts of it, not just the army, or the government, in order to bring about a particular reform. Either one must accept this society in its entirety, or one must reject it completely - reject it, not in the sense of running away from it, but finding out its significance. So, if there is no possibility for the mind to extricate itself from this prison of the collective, then the mind can only go back and reform the prison. But to me there is such a possibility, because to struggle everlastingly in the prison would be to stupid. And how is the mind to extricate itself from this heterogeneous mass of values and contradictions, pursuits and urges? Until you do that, there is no individuality. You may call yourself an individual, you may say you have a soul, a higher self, but those are all inventions of the mind which is still part of the collective. One can see what is happening in the world. A new group of the collective is denying that there is a soul, that there is immortality, permanency, that Jesus is the only Saviour, and all the rest of it. Seeing this whole conglomeration of assertions and counter-assertions, the inevitable question arises, is it possible for the mind to disentangle itself from it? That is, can there be freedom from time, time as memory, the memory which is the product of any particular culture, civilization, or conditioning? Can the mind be free from all this memory? Not the memory of how to build a bridge, or the structure of the atom, or the way to one's house; that is factual memory, and without it one would be insane, or in a state of amnesia. But can the mind be free from psychological memory? Surely, it can be free only when it is not seeking security. After all, as I was saying yesterday afternoon, as long as the mind is seeking security, whether in a bank account, in a religion, or in various forms of social action and relationship, there must be violence. The man who has much breeds violence; but the man who sees the much and becomes a hermit, he also breeds violence, because he is seeking security, not in the world, but in ideas. The problem is, then, can the mind be free from memory, not the memory of information, of knowledge, of facts, but the collective memory which has accrued through centuries of belief? If you put that question to yourself with full attention and do not wait for me to answer, because there is no answer, then you will see that as long as your mind is seeking security in any form, you belong to the collective, to the memory of many centuries. And not to seek security is astonishingly difficult, because one may reject the collective, but develop a collective of one's own experience. Do you understand? I may reject society with all its corruption, with its collective ambition, greed, competitiveness; but having rejected it, I have experiences, and every experience leaves a residue. That residue also becomes the collective, because I have collected it; it becomes my security, which I give to my son, to my neighbour, so I again create the collective in a different pattern. Is it possible for the mind to be totally free from the memory of the collective? That means being free from envy, from competitiveness, from ambition, from dependence, from this everlasting search for the permanent as a means to be secure; and when there is that freedom, only then is there the individual. Then a totally different state of mind and being exists. Then there is no possibility of corruption, of time, and for such a mind, which may be called individual or some other name, reality comes into being. You cannot go after reality; if you do it becomes your security, therefore it is utterly false, meaningless, like your pursuing money, ambition, fulfilment. Reality must come to you; and it cannot come to you as long as there is the corruption of the collective. That is why the mind must be completely alone, uninfluenced, uncontaminated, therefore free of time, and only then that which is measureless, timeless, comes into being. Many questions have been sent in, and unfortunately they cannot all be answered. But what we have done is to select the more representative ones, and I am going to try to answer as many of them as possible this morning. I hope that you are not being mesmerized by me. Please, what I am saying has meaning, I am not saying it casually. You listen with silence. If that silence is merely the result of being overpowered by another personality, or by ideas, then it is utterly valueless. But if your silence is the natural outcome of your attention in observing your own thoughts, your own mind, then you are not being mesmerized, you are not being hypnotized. Then you do not create a new collective, a new following, a new leader - which is a horror, it has no meaning and is most destructive. If you are really alert, inwardly observant, you will find that these talks will have been worthwhile, because they will have revealed the functioning of your own mind. Then you have nothing to learn from another, therefore there is no teacher, no disciple, no following. The totality of all this is in your own conscious- ness, and one who describes that consciousness does not constitute a leader. You don't worship a map, or the telephone, or the blackboard on which something is written. So this is not the creation of a new group, a new leader, a new following, at least, not for me. If you create it, it is your own misery. But if you observe your own mind, which is what the blackboard says, then such observation leads to an extraordinary discovery, and that discovery brings its own action. Question: Many people who have been through the shattering experience of war seem unable to find their place in the modern world. Tossed about by the waves of this chaotic society, they drift from one occupation to another and lead a miserable life. I am such a person. What am I to do? Krishnamurti: If you are in revolt against society, what generally happens? Through compulsion, through necessity, you conform to a particular social pattern, and so you have an everlasting battle within yourself and with society. Society has made you what you are, it has brought about wars, destruction. This culture is based on envy, turmoil, its religions do not make a religious man. On the contrary, they destroy the religious man. Then what is an individual to do? Having been shattered by war, either you become a neurotic, or you go to somebody who will help you to be non-neurotic and fit into the social pattern, thereby continuing a society that breeds insanity, wars and corruption. Or else - which is really very difficult - you observe this whole structure of society and are free of it. Being free of society implies not being ambitious, not being covetous, not being competitive; it implies being nothing in relation to that society which is striving to be something. But you see, it is very difficult to accept that, because you may be trodden on, you may be pushed aside; you will have nothing. In that nothingness there is sanity, not in the other. The moment you see that, the moment you are as nothing, then life looks after you. It does. Something happens. But that requires immense insight into the whole structure of society. As long as one wants to be part of this society, one must breed insanity, wars, destruction and misery; but to free oneself from this society, the society of violence, of wealth, of position, of success, requires patience, inquiry, discovery, not the reading of books, the chasing after teachers, psychologists, and all the rest of it. Question: I am puzzled by the phrase you used in last week's talk, `a completely controlled mind'. Does not a controlled mind involve will or an entity who controls? Krishnamurti: I did use that expression, `a controlled mind', and I thought I had explained what I meant by it. I see it has not been understood, so I shall explain again. Isn't it necessary to have, not a controlled mind, but a very steady mind a mind that has no distractions? Please follow this. A mind that has no distractions is a mind for which there is no central interest. If there is a central interest, then there are distractions. But a mind that is completely attentive, not towards a particular object, is a steady mind. Now, let us examine briefly this whole question of control. When there is control there is an entity who controls, who dominates, who sublimates or finds a substitute. So in control there is always a dual process going on: the one who controls, and the thing that is controlled. In other words, there is conflict. Surely, you are aware of this. There is the con- troller, the evaluator, the judge, the experiencer, the thinker, and opposed to him there is the thing which he examines, controls, suppresses, sublimates, and all the rest of it. So there is always a battle going on between these two, the one that is, and the one that says, `I must be'. This contradiction, this conflict is a waste of energy. And is it possible to have only the fact and not the controller? Is it possible to see the fact that I am envious without saying that it is wrong to be envious, that it is antisocial, anti-spiritual, and must be changed? Can the entity who evaluates totally disappear, and only the fact remain? Can the mind look at the fact without evaluation, that is, without opinion? When there is an opinion about a fact, then there is confusion, conflict. I hope you are following all this. So, confusion is a waste of energy and the mind must be confused as long as it approaches the fact with a conclusion, with an idea, with an opinion, with a judgment, with condemnation. But when the mind sees the fact as true without opinion, then there is only the perception of the fact, and out of that comes an extraordinary steadiness and subtlety of mind, because there is then no deviation, no escape, no judgment, no conflict in which the mind wastes itself. So there is only thinking, not a thinker; but the experiencing of that is very difficult. Look what happens. You see a lovely sunset. At the precise moment of seeing it, there is no experiencer, is there? There is only the sense of great beauty. Then the mind says, `How beautiful that was, I would like to have more of it', so the conflict begins of the experiencer wanting more. Now, can the mind be in a state of experiencing without the experiencer? The experiencer is memory, the collective. Oh, do you see it? And can I look at the sunset without comparing, without saying, `How beautiful that is. I wish I could have more of it'? The `more' is the creation of time, in which there is the fear of ending, the fear of death. Question: Is there a duality between the mind and the self. If there is not, how is one to free the mind from the self? Krishnamurti: Is there a duality between the `me', the self, the ego, and the mind? Surely not. The mind is the self, the ego. The ego, the self, is this urge of envy, of brutality, of violence, this lack of love, this everlasting seeking of prestige, position, power, trying to be something - which is what the mind is also doing, is it not? The mind is thinking all the time how to advance itself, how to have more security, how to have a better position, more comfort, greater wealth, increased power, all of which is the self. So the mind is the self; the self is not a separate thing, though we like to think it is, because then the mind can control the self, it can play this game of back and forth, subjugating, trying to do something about the self - which is the immature play of an educated mind, educated in the wrong sense of that word. So, the mind is the self, it is this whole structure of acquisitiveness; and the problem is, how is the mind to be free of itself? Please follow this. If it makes any movement to free itself, it is still the self, is it not? Look. I and my mind are the same, there is no division between myself and my mind. The self that is envious, ambitious, is exactly the same as the mind that says, `I must not be envious, I must be noble', only the mind has divided itself. Now, when I see that, what am I to do? If the mind is the product of environment, of envy, greed, conditioning, then what is it to do? Surely, any movement it makes to free itself is still part of that conditioning. All right? Do you understand? Any movement on the part of the mind to free itself from conditioning is an action of the self which wants to be free in order to be more happy, more at peace, nearer the right hand of God. So I see the whole of this, the ways and trickeries of the mind. Therefore the mind is quiet, it is completely still, there is no movement; and it is in that silence, in that stillness, that there is freedom from the self, from the mind itself. Surely, the self exists only in the movement of the mind to gain something or to avoid something. If there is no movement of gaining or avoiding, the mind is completely quiet. Then only is there a possibility of being free from the totality of consciousness as the collective and as opposed to the collective. Question: having seriously experimented with your teachings for a number of years, I have become fully aware of the parasitic nature of self-consciousness and see its tentacles touching my every thought, word and deed. As a result, I have lost all self-confidence as well as all motivation. Work has become drudgery and leisure drabness. I am in almost constant psychological pain, yet I see even this pain as a device of the self. I have reached an impasse in every department of my life, and I ask you as I have been asking myself: What now? Krishnamurti: Are you experimenting with my teachings, or are you experimenting with yourself? I hope you see the difference. If you are experimenting with what I am saying, then you must come to, `What now?', because then you are trying to achieve a result which you think I have. You think I have something which you do not have, and that if you experiment with what I am saying, you also will get it - which is what most of us do. We approach these things with a commercial mentality: I will do this in order to get that. I will worship, meditate, sacrifice in order to get something. Now, you are not practising my teachings. I have nothing to say. Or rather, all that I am saying is, observe your own mind, see to what depths the mind can go; therefore you are important, not the teachings. It is important for you to find out your own ways of thinking and what that thinking implies, as I have been trying to point out this morning. And if you are really observing your own thinking, if you are watching, experimenting, discovering, letting go, dying each day to everything that you have gathered, then you will never put that question, `What now?' You see, confidence is entirely different from self-confidence. The confidence that comes into being when you are discovering from moment to moment is entirely different from the self-confidence arising from the accumulation of discoveries which becomes knowledge and gives you importance. Do you see the difference? Therefore the problem of self-confidence completely disappears. There is only the constant movement of discovery, the constant reading and understanding, not of a book, but of your own mind, the whole, vast structure of consciousness. Then you are not seeking a result at all. It is only when you are seeking a result that you say, `I have done all these things but I have got nothing, and I have lost confidence. What now?' Whereas, if you are examining, understanding the ways of your own mind without seeking a reward, an end, without the motivation of gain, then there is self-knowledge, and you will see an astonishing thing come out of it. Question: How can one prevent awareness from becoming a new technique, the latest fashion in meditation? Krishnamurti: As this is a very serious question I am going into it rather deeply, and I hope you are not too tired to follow with relaxed alertness the workings of your own mind. It is important to meditate, but what is still more important is to understand what is meditation, otherwise the mind gets caught in mere technique. Learning a new trick of breathing, sitting in a certain posture, holding your back straight, practising one of the various systems for silencing the mind - none of that is important. What is important is for you and me to find out what is meditation. In the very finding out of what is meditation, I am meditating. Do you understand? Take it easy, sirs, don't agree or disagree. It is enormously important to meditate. If you do not know what meditation is, it is like having a flower without scent. You may have a marvellous capacity to talk, or to paint, or to enjoy life, you may have encyclopaedic information and correlate all knowledge, but those things will have no meaning at all if you do not know what meditation is. Meditation is the perfume of life, it has immense beauty. It opens doors that the mind can never open, it goes to depths that the merely cultured mind can never touch. So meditation is very important. but we always put the wrong question, and therefore get a wrong answer. We say, `How am I to meditate', so we go to some swami, some foolish person, or we pick up a book, or follow a system, hoping to learn how to meditate. Now, if we can brush all that aside, the swamis, the yogis, the interpreters, the breathers, the sitting-stillers, and all the rest of it, then we must inevitably come to this question: What is meditation? So, please listen carefully. We are now asking, not how to meditate, or what the technique of awareness is, but what is meditation - which is the right question. If you put a wrong question you will receive a wrong answer; but if you put the right question, then that very question will reveal the right answer. So, what is meditation? Do you know what meditation is? Don't repeat what you have heard another say, even if you know somebody, as I do, who has devoted twenty-five years to meditation. Do you know what meditation is? Obviously you don't, do you? You may have read what various priests, saints, or hermits have said about contemplation and prayer, but I am not talking of that at all. I am talking of meditation - not the dictionary meaning of the word, which you can look up afterwards. What is meditation? You don't know. And that is the basis on which to meditate. (Laughter) Please listen, don't laugh it off, `I don't know.' Do you understand the beauty of that? It means that my mind is stripped of all technique, of all information about meditation, of everything others have said about it. My mind does not know. We can proceed with finding out what is meditation only when you can honestly say that you do not know; and you cannot say, `I do not know' if there is in your mind the glimmer of secondhand information, of what the Gita. or the Bible or Saint Francis has said about contemplation, or the results of prayer - which is the latest fashion, in every magazine they are talking about it. You must put all that aside, because if you copy, if you follow, you revert to the collective. So, can the mind be in a state in which it says, `I do not know'? That state is the beginning and the end of meditation, because in that state every experience, every experience is understood and not accumulated. Do you understand? You see, you want to control your thinking; and when you control your thinking, hold it from distraction, your energy has gone into the control and not into thinking. Do you follow? There can be the gathering of energy only when energy is not wasted in control, in subjugation, in fighting distractions, in suppositions, in pursuits, in motivations, and this enormous gathering of energy, of thought, is without motion. Do you understand? When you say, `I do not know', then there is no movement of thought, is there? There is a movement of thought only when you begin to inquire, to find out, and your inquiry is from the known to the known. If you don't follow this, perhaps you will think it out afterwards. Meditation is a process of purgation of the mind. There can be purgation of the mind only when there is no controller; in controlling, the controller dissipates energy. Dissipation of energy arises from the friction between the controller and the object he wishes to control. Now, when you say, `I do not know', there is no movement of thought in any direction to find an answer; the mind is completely still. And for the mind to be still, there must be extraordinary energy. The mind cannot be still without energy, not the energy that is dissipated through conflict, suppression, domination, or through prayer, seeking, begging, which implies a movement, but the energy that is complete attention. Any movement of thought in any direction is a dissipation of energy, and for the mind to be completely still there must be the energy of complete attention. Only then is there the coming into being of that which is not to be invited, that which is not to be sought after, that for which there is no respectability, which cannot be pursued through virtue or sacrifice. That state is creativity, that is the timeless, the real. August 28, 1955 SYDNEY 1ST PUBLIC TALK 9TH NOVEMBER, 1955 As there are many misconceptions, fantastic ideas, and a great many hopes which have no fundamental basis, I think it is important that we should understand each other and establish the right kind of relationship between the speaker and the individual person who is here. First of all, what I am going to speak about during these several talks is not based on any Indian religion, nor am I representing any particular philosophy. Thought has neither nationality nor frontier, and what we are trying to do this evening is to find out for ourselves what it is that most of us are seeking. You may have come here with various ideas, with certain hopes, seeking something from the speaker, and I think we ought to begin by clearing up any misconceptions; so I would like to suggest that you listen to find out what I want to convey, which is not merely to hear but really to understand what is being said. It is very difficult to listen rightly, because most of us have opinions, judgments, conclusions, values, and so we never really listen at all; we are only comparing, evaluating, translating, or opposing one idea with another. But if you can listen, not with a so-called open mind, but with the intention to understand, then perhaps you and I together will find out how to approach the many problems which we have. We can understand our problems only if we have the capacity to listen, to pay full attention, and such attention is not possible if we are seeking an end, an answer. There is attention only when the mind is really quiet, and then it is able to receive, to comprehend; but a mind that is occupied with its own answers, that is caught up in the search for a result, is never quiet, and such a mind is incapable of full attention. So I think it is important to listen with full attention, not just to what is being said, but to everything in life, for only then is the mind free to discover what is true and find out if there is something beyond its own inventions. That is what I would like to talk about this evening and throughout these talks. Is it possible to free the mind, not to accept, but to investigate, to inquire profoundly and find out if there is or there is not reality, God? Surely, the mind is incapable of such inquiry as long as it is merely concerned with finding solutions for its own petty problems, that is, as long as it is only concerned with escapes. The mind cannot be free unless it has understood the problem in which it is caught, and this implies self-knowledge, a full awareness of its own activities. All our problems are really individual problems, because the individual is society. There is no society without the individual, and as long as the individual does not totally understand himself, his conscious as well as his unconscious self, whatever reforms he may devise, whatever gods he may invent, whatever truths he may seek, will have very little significance. So the individual problem is the world problem, which is fairly obvious; and the world problem can come to an end only when the individual understands himself, the activities of his own mind, the workings of his own consciousness. Then there is a possibility of creating a different world, a world in which there are no nationalities, no frontiers of belief, no political or religious dogmas. So it seems to me very important to find out what it is we are seeking. This is not a rhetorical question, but a question that each one of us must inevitably put to himself; and the more mature, intelligent and alert we are, the greater and more urgent our demand to find out what it is that we are seeking. Unfortunately most of us put this question superficially, and when we receive a superficial answer we are satisfied with it. But if you care to go into the matter you will find that the mind is merely seeking some kind of satisfaction, some kind of pleasant invention which will gratify it; and once having found or created for itself a shelter of opinion and conclusion, therein it stays, so our search seemingly comes to an end. Or if we are dissatisfied we go from one philosophy to another, from one dogma to another, from one church, from one sect, from one book to another, always trying to find a permanent security, inwardly as well as outwardly, a permanent happiness, a permanent peace. Our search starts with a mind that has already been made petty and superficial by so-called education, so it finds answers which are equally petty and superficial. Before we begin to seek, then, is it not important to understand the process of the mind itself? Because what we are seeking now is fairly obvious. We are discontented with so many things, and we want contentment. Being unhappy, in conflict with each other and with society, we want to be led to some kind of haven, and we generally do find a leader or a dogma that satisfies us. But surely all such effort is very superficial, and that is why it seems to me important to understand the ways of the mind and not try to find something. To understand oneself needs enormous patience, because the self is a very complex process, and if one does not understand oneself, whatever one seeks will have very little significance. When we do not understand our own urges and compulsions, conscious as well as unconscious, they produce certain activities which create conflict in ourselves; and what we are seeking is to avoid or escape from this conflict, is it not? So, as long as we do not understand the process of ourselves, of our own thinking, our search is extremely superficial, narrow and petty. To ask if there is God, if there is truth, or what lies beyond death, or whether there is reincarnation - all such questioning is infantile, if I may say so, because the questioner has not understood himself, the whole process of his thinking, and without self-knowledge such inquiry only leads one to assertions which have no basis. So, if we really want to create a different world, a different relationship between human beings, a different attitude towards life, it is essential that we should first understand ourselves, is it not? This does not mean self-centred concentration, which leads to utter misery. What I am suggesting is that without self-knowledge, without deeply knowing oneself, all inquiry, all thought, all conclusions, opinions and values have very little meaning. Most of us are conditioned, conditioned as Christians, as Socialists, as Communists, as Buddhists, as Moslems, or what you will, and within that narrow area we have our being. Our minds are conditioned by society, by education, by the culture about us, and without understanding the total process of that conditioning, our search, our knowledge, our inquiry can only lead to further mischief, to greater misery, which is what is actually happening. Self-knowledge is not according to any formula. You may go to a psychologist or a psychoanalyst to find out about yourself, but that is not self-knowledge. Self-knowledge, comes into being when we are aware, of ourselves in relationship, which shows what we are from moment to moment. Relationship is a mirror in which to see ourselves as we actually are. But most of us are incapable of looking at ourselves as we are in relationship, because we immediately begin to condemn or justify what we see. We judge, we evaluate, we compare, we deny or accept, but we never observe actually what is, and for most people this seems to be the most difficult thing to do; yet this alone is the beginning of self-knowledge. If one is able to see oneself as one is in this extraordinary mirror of relationship which does not distort, if one can just look into this mirror with full attention and see actually what is, be aware of it without condemnation, without judgment, without evaluation - and one does this when there is earnest interest - then one will find that the mind is capable of freeing itself from all conditioning; and it is only then that the mind is free to discover that which lies beyond the field of thought. After all, however learned or however petty the mind may be, it is consciously or unconsciously limited, conditioned, and any extension of this conditioning is still within the field of thought. So freedom is something entirely different. What is important, then, is self-knowledge, seeing oneself as one is in the mirror of relationship. It is very difficult to observe oneself without distortion, because we are educated to distort, to condemn, to compare, to judge; but if the mind is capable, which it is, of observing itself without distortion, then you will find, if you will experiment with it, that the mind can uncondition itself. Most of us are concerned, not with unconditioning the mind, but with conditioning it better, making it nobler, making it less this and more that. We have never inquired into the possibility of the mind's unconditioning itself completely. And it is only the totally unconditioned mind that can discover reality, not the mind that seeks and finds a gratifying answer, not the mind that is Christian, Hindu, Communist, Socialist, or Capitalist; such a mind only creates more misery, more conflict, more problems. Through self-knowledge the mind can free itself from all conditioning, and this is not a matter of time. Freedom from conditioning comes into being only when we see the necessity of a mind that is unconditioned. But we have never thought about it, we have never inquired, we have merely accepted authority, and there are whole groups of people who say that the mind cannot be unconditioned and must therefore be conditioned better. Now, I am suggesting that the mind can be unconditioned. It is not for you to accept what I say, because that would be too stupid; but if one is really interested one can find out for oneself whether it is possible for the mind to be unconditioned. Surely, that possibility exists only if one is aware that one is conditioned and does not accept that conditioning as something noble, a worthwhile part of social culture. The unconditioned mind is the only truly religious mind, and only the religious mind can create a fundamental revolution, which is essential, and which is not an economic revolution, nor the revolution of the Communists or the Socialists. To find out what is true the mind must be aware of itself, it must have self-knowledge, which means being alert to all its conscious and unconscious urges and compulsions; but a mind which is the residue of traditions, of values, of so-called culture and education, such a mind is incapable of finding out what is true. It may say it believes in God, but its God has no reality, for it is only the projection of its own conditioning. So our search within the field of conditioning is no search at all, and I think it is important to understand this. A petty mind can never find that which is beyond the mind, and a conditioned mind is a petty mind whether it believes in God or not. That is why all the beliefs and dogmas that we hold, all the authorities, especially the spiritual authorities, have to be put aside, and only then is there a possibility of finding that which is everlasting, timeless. There are some questions here, but before we consider them together I think it is important to understand that serious questions have no assertive answers, either positive or negative. There is no "yes" or "no" to the questions of life. What is important is to understand the question, for the answer is in the question and not away from it. But for most of us this seems an impossibility, because we are so eager to find an immediate answer, a palliative for our suffering and confusion; and when we seek an immediate answer we are bound to be led into illusions, into further misery. It is extremely difficult for us to understand the problem because our minds are already seeking an answer and are therefore not giving full attention to the problem. We think of the problem as an impediment, as something to be got rid of, something to be pushed away, avoided. But if the mind can look at the problem without seeking an answer, without translating the problem in terms of its own comfort, then the problem undergoes a fundamental change. Question: You have said that one can discover oneself only in relationship. Is the self an isolated reality, or is there no self at all without relationship? Krishnamurti: This is really a very interesting question, and I hope you and I can think it out together. We are thinking it out together, you are not awaiting an answer from me. It is your problem, and if through my verbalization we can go into it seriously, I think we shall directly or indirectly discover a great many things and not have to be told. I have said that one can discover oneself only in relationship. That is so, is it not? One cannot know oneself, what one actually is, except in relationship. Anger, jealousy, envy, lust - all such reactions exist only in one's relationship with people, with things, and with ideas. If there is no relationship at all, if there is complete isolation, one cannot know oneself. The mind can isolate itself, thinking that it is somebody, which is a state of lunacy, unbalance, and in that state it cannot know itself. It merely has ideas about itself, like the idealist who is isolating himself from the fact of what he is by pursuing what he should be. That is what most of us are doing. Because relationship is painful we want to isolate ourselves from this pain, and in the isolating process we create the ideal of what we should be, which is imaginary, an invention of the mind. So we can know ourselves as we actually are, consciously as well as unconsciously, only in relationship, and that is fairly obvious. I hope you are interested in all this, because it is part of our daily, activity, it is our very life, and if we do not understand it, merely going to a series of meetings, or acquiring knowledge from books, will have very little meaning. The second part of the question is this: "Is the self an isolated reality, or is there no self at all without relationship?" In other words, do I exist only in relationship, or do I exist as an isolated reality beyond relationship? I think the latter is what most of us would like, because relationship is painful. In the very fulfilment of relationship there is fear, anxiety, and knowing this, the mind seeks to isolate itself with its gods, its higher self, and so on. The very nature of the self, the "me", is a process of isolation, is it not? The self and the concerns of the self - my family, my property, my love, my desire - is a process of isolation, and this process is a reality in the sense that it is actually taking place. And can such a self-enclosed mind ever find something beyond itself? Obviously not. It may stretch its walls, its boundaries, it may expand its area, but it is still the consciousness of the "me". Now, when do you know you are related? Are you conscious of being related when there is complete unanimity, when there is love? Or does the consciousness of being related arise only when there is friction, when there is conflict, when you are demanding something, when there is frustration, fear, contention between the "me" and the other who is related to the "me"? Does the sense of self in relationship exist if you are not in pain? Let us look at it much more simply. If you are not in pain, do you know that you exist? Say, for instance, you are happy for a moment. At the precise moment of experiencing happiness, are you aware that you are happy? Surely, it is only a second afterwards that you become conscious that you are happy. And is it not possible for the mind to be free from all self-enclosing demands and pursuits so that the self is not? Then perhaps relationship can have quite a different meaning. Relationship now is used as a means of security, as a means of self-perpetuation, self-expansion, self aggrandisement. All these qualities make up the self, and if they cease, then there may be another state in which relationship has a different significance altogether. After all, most relationship is now based on envy, because envy is the basis of our present culture, and therefore in our relationship with each other, which is society, there is contention, violence, a constant battle. But if there is no envy at all, neither conscious nor unconscious, neither superficial nor deep-rooted, if all envy has totally ceased, then is not our relationship entirely different? So there is a state of mind which is not bound by the idea of the self. Please, this is not a theory, it is not some philosophy to be practised, but if you are really listening to what is being said you are bound to experience the truth of it. These meetings will be utterly futile, they will have no meaning at all, if you are treating what is being said as a lecture to be listened to, talked over, and forgotten. They will have meaning only if you are listening and directly experiencing these things as they are being said. Question: What do you mean by awareness? Is it just being conscious, or something more? Krishnamurti: May I again suggest that you listen, not merely to my words, but to the significance of the words, which is really to follow experimentally through my description, the actual functioning of your own mind as you are sitting here. I think it is important to find out what awareness is, because it is an extraordinarily real process. It is not a thing to be practised, to be meditated upon daily in order to be aware. That has no meaning at all. What do we mean by awareness? To be aware is to know that I am standing here and that you are sitting there. We are aware of trees, of people, of noise, of the swift flight of a bird, and most of us are satisfied with this superficial experience. But if we go a little deeper we become conscious that the mind is recognising, registering, associating, verbalizing, giving names; it is constantly judging, condemning, accepting, rejecting, and to see this whole process in operation is also part of awareness. If we go still deeper we begin to see the hidden motives, the cultural conditioning, the urges, the compulsions, the beliefs, the envy, the fear, the racial prejudices that lie hidden in the unconscious and of which most of us are unaware. All this is the process of consciousness, is it not? So, awareness is to see this process in operation, both the outward consciousness and the consciousness which is hidden, and one can be aware of it in relationship, while one sits at table, while one eats, while one is travelling on a bus. Now, is there something other than this? Is awareness something more than merely the awareness of the process of consciousness? The something more cannot be discovered if you have not understood the whole content of your consciousness, because any desire to find something more will be a mere projection of that consciousness. So you must first understand your own consciousness, you must understand what you are, and you can understand what you are only by being aware, which is to see yourself in the mirror of relationship; and you cannot see yourself as you are if you condemn what you see. That is fairly simple. If you condemn a child, obviously you do not understand him, and you condemn because that is the easiest way to get rid of the problem. So, to be aware is to see the total process of the mind, not only of the conscious mind, but also of the mind which is hidden and which reveals itself through dreams; but we won't go into that now. If the mind can be aware of all its own activities, both conscious and unconscious, then there is a possibility of going beyond. To go beyond, the mind must be completely still, but a still mind is not one that is disciplined. A mind that is held in control is not a still mind, it is a stale mind. The mind is still, tranquil, only when it understands the whole process of its own thinking, and then there is a possibility of going beyond. November 9, 1955 SYDNEY 2ND PUBLIC TALK 12TH NOVEMBER, 1955 One of our great problems, it seems to me, is how to free the mind from its own shallowness, because most of our lives are very superficial, narrow and petty. Our thinking is also very shallow, and I feel that if we could free the mind from its pettiness, its self-centred activity, then perhaps there would be a possibility of wider, deeper experience and happiness. If we are aware that we are petty and that all our thinking is shallow, we try to free the mind from this shallowness through various forms of effort. We dig deeply into ourselves, analysing, imitating, forcing, disciplining, hoping thereby to enlarge the mind and have wider experiences. But is it possible through thought to break down the self-enclosing walls of experience? Is thought the way to free the mind? Before I go further may I suggest that you neither accept nor reject what is being said. Let us investigate the problem together so that you do not merely repeat what is being said but rather directly experience the truth or the falseness of it for yourself. To do that it seems to me very important to know how to listen, how to pay attention. A mind that is occupied cannot pay attention, and most minds are occupied with some kind of idea, opinion, judgment. When anything new is presented to such a mind, there is an immediate reaction either of acceptance or rejection, which actually prevents understanding, does it not? And what we are trying to do this evening is to see if the mind, which in most people is very shallow, petty, can be freed through any form of thinking, which is really the cultivation of memory. We have enormous problems before us, and a petty mind, however cunning, however clever, however scholarly, can never tackle these problems fully, completely, and hence breeds further misery. So, is it possible to free the mind through the process of thinking? One is aware that one's thinking is petty, shallow, limited in every direction; and is it possible for such a mind to break down the walls of its own limitation through the process of thinking? That is what we are trying to do, is it not? Now, does thinking free the mind? What is thinking? The mind, both the conscious and the unconscious, is the result of time, of memory, it is the residue of centuries of knowing, and the totality of this consciousness is the process of thinking. All thinking, surely, springs from a background of various cultures, of innumerable experiences, individual as well as collective, and this background is obviously conditioned. If one observes oneself and is aware of one's own consciousness, one sees that it is the outcome of many influences: climate, diet, various forms of authority, the society about one, with its taboos, its do's and don'ts, the religion in which one has been brought up, the books one has read, the reactions and experiences one has had, and so on. All these influences condition and shape the mind, and from this background our thinking comes. This is an actual fact, and I do not think we need to discuss it at very great length. So, thinking is obviously the result of memory, and this result has produced the chaos, the misery, the strife that exists within and without. The mind is the outcome of time, of many influences, of so-called culture and education, and how can such a mind free itself from its own destructive activities? I hope I am making myself clear. We see there is chaos and misery in the world, a passing happiness. We have developed various forms of technique in order to earn a livelihood, and we have cultivated memory to a vast extent. All our education leads to the cultivation of memory, which is the process of time, and when the mind is functioning wholly within this area it is very superficial, narrow, limited. So, is it possible through thinking, which is the process of time, to reach or to discover something which is beyond time, where true creativeness is? Most of us spend our energy in the most uncreative thinking, our lives are guided by respectability, by the edicts of society, by various forms of discipline, suppression, resistance, so there is always conformity and fear. Very few know this extraordinary sense of creativity which is obviously beyond time. It is not the creativity of writing a poem or of painting a picture, but a sense of being creative without necessarily expressing it in any form. This creativity may be reality, it may be the highest, the sublime, and until the mind is aware of this creative state, whatever thinking it does can only produce further misery. So, is it possible for the mind to be aware of the whole process of influence, the influence of society, of culture, of relationship, of food, of education, of the books we read, the religions and the dogmas we follow? Can it be aware of all this and not create thought out of its awareness, but allow thought to come to an end? This is really the complete cessation of all movement of the mind which is the result of the past. Thinking can never discover anything new, because thinking is the result of time, of the past. All verbalization of thought is the outcome of time, of memory, and through this process the mind can never discover anything new. Surely, that which you call God, truth, reality, or whatever name you like to give it, must be something totally new, unexperienced before. It must be discovered from moment to moment, and that can happen only when the mind is dead to the past, to all accumulated influences. When the mind, which is the product of time, of memory, is able to die from day to day to everything that it has accumulated, only then is it possible to experience something which is totally new, and this new thing is reality. So, the mind which knows continuity, which is the product of time, of memory, can never discover the new. When the mind is totally still, not made still through desire, through any form of compulsion, repression or imitation, when there is that stillness which comes with the deep understanding of this whole process of thinking - it is only then that one can experience the new. Until that happens, all thinking is obviously petty. We may be very clever, erudite, capable of keen analysis and discovery, but such analysis and discovery only lead to further misery, as has been shown in the world. That is why it seems to me important for those who think differently, who are really seeking to go beyond the limitations of the mind, to understand themselves and the whole content of their consciousness, for only then is it possible to have an extraordinarily still mind; and perhaps in that stillness reality comes into being. There are several questions, or problems. And what is a problem? Surely, the mind creates a problem when it is occupied in analysing, examining, worrying about something. Life is a series of challenges, and is it possible to meet these challenges without creating problems, that is, without giving soil in the mind for problems to take root and become corroding, destructive? To put it differently, can the mind be unoccupied so as to meet each challenge anew? After all, it is an occupied mind that creates problems, not an unoccupied mind. I think we shall discuss this in different ways during the coming talks. Question: Some people say that there are actually two paths to the highest attainment, the occult and the mystic. Is this a reality, or a purposeful invention? Krishnamurti: Most of us, I think, have an idea that reality, God, or whatever name you like to give it, is something fixed, permanent, and that there are various paths to that reality. Now, is there anything permanent? Or is it that the mind desires something permanent, something enduring, as it does in all relationship? Surely, the mind is seeking permanency, a permanent stillness, a permanent happiness, a reality which is secure, unchanging; and as long as the mind is seeking a permanent state, it must create paths to that state. But is there a permanency, anything that is everlasting, enduring? Or is there no permanency, but a constant movement, not the movement that we know in time, but a movement beyond time? If it is believed that there is something permanent, fixed, unchangeable, in the sense in which we use those words within the area of time, then people will think that there are various paths to it, and the occult and the mystic become the purposeful invention of those who have a vested interest in both. So, what is important is to find out directly for ourselves whether there is anything permanent. Though the mind may wish to have a permanent tranquillity, a permanent peace, bliss, or what you will, is there such a permanent state? If there is, then there must be a path to it, and practice, discipline, a system of meditation, are necessary to achieve that state. But if we look at it a little more closely and deeply, we find that there is nothing permanent. But the mind rejects that fact because it is seeking some form of security, and out of its own desire it projects the idea of truth as being something permanent, absolute, and then proceeds to invent paths leading to it. This purposeful invention has very little significance to the man who really wishes to find out what is true. So there is no path to truth, because truth must be discovered from moment to moment. It is not a thing that is the outcome of accumulated experience. One must die to all experience, because that which is accumulating, gathering, is the self, the "me", which is everlastingly seeking its own security, its own permanency and continuity. Any mind whose thought springs from this desire for self-perpetuation, the desire to attain, to succeed, whether in this world or in the next, is bound to be caught in illusion, and therefore in suffering. Whereas, if the mind begins to understand itself by being aware of its own activities, watching its own movements, its own reactions; if it is capable of dying psychologically to the desire to be secure so that it is free from the past, the past which is the accumulation of its own desires and experiences, the past which is the perpetuation of the "me", the self, the ego, then you will see that there are no paths to truth at all, but a constant discovery from moment to moment. After all, that which gathers, which hoards, which has continuity, is the "me", the self that knows suffering and is the outcome of time. It is this self-centred memory of the "me" and the "mine" - my possessions, my virtues, my qualities, my beliefs -which seeks security and desires to continue. Such a mind invents all these paths, which have no reality at all. Unfortunately, people who have power, position, exploit others by saying that there are different paths, the occult, the mystic, and so on, but the moment one realizes all this, one discovers for oneself that there is no path to truth. When the mind can die psychologically to all the things it has gathered for its own security, it is only then that reality comes into being. Question: What according to you is freedom? Krishnamurti: This is really quite a complex question, and if you have the patience let us go into it. Is freedom something to be attained, or must it be from the very beginning? Is freedom to be achieved through discipline of the mind, through control, through suppression, through conformity, or must it come into being in the very moment of thinking, of feeling? Which does not mean that one must give way to one's desires. Can freedom be discovered through conforming to the pattern of any particular society, or must freedom be encouraged from the very beginning? Society as we know it now is based on envy, greed, ambition, revenge, on the economic competition for success, on the desire to be something; and in conforming to this pattern, is there freedom? Or does freedom lie outside of this society? Surely, there is freedom only when the mind is no longer acquiring, possessing, when it has ceased to be greedy, envious. There is freedom only when the mind is not occupied with itself, with its own success, with its own concerns and problems, And does this freedom exist at the end or at the beginning? Everyone says, "Discipline yourself, conform, imitate in order to be free". We are all talking of freedom and at the same time exercising authority, so I think it is important to go into this question very deeply. Does freedom lie within the field of time, within the field of consciousness, consciousness being the reactions and responses of a particular culture or society, the urges and compulsions of man, collective as well as personal? All that is your consciousness, is it not? The "you" is made up of this consciousness. You are the collective, you are not the individual. You may have a name, a bank account, a separate house, certain capacities, but essentially you are the collective, which is fairly obvious. Being Christian, Australian, Indian, Buddhist, or whatever it is, you have certain superstitions, prejudices, beliefs, therefore you are the result of the collective. One is really not an individual, and it is only when one understands the whole collective influence that there is freedom, and then perhaps the individual comes into being. We can see that as long as we are conforming to the pattern of society and are merely the product of the collective there can be no freedom, but only greed and conflict, the conflict between groups and between the so-called individuals within the group. Conflict, discipline, the desire for expansion, and so on, are all within the pattern of society, and surely there is freedom only when there is no sense of acquisitiveness, when there is no demand to be psychologically secure, safe, when there is no envy. When we understand this pattern and are therefore free from all the beliefs that society has imposed, whether Communist or Capitalist, Christian or Hindu, then perhaps there is the true individual, one who is completely alone, not one who is lonely. The man who is lonely is caught up in his self-enclosing activity, completely cut off in his selfishness, his self-centred concern. But I am talking of something entirely different, of the aloneness which is incorruptible, and with that aloneness there is freedom. Question: You said that it is possible to be unconditioned. Living in this world, how can we come to this unconditioned state and in what way will it transform our lives here? Krishnamurti: I wonder if we are aware that we are conditioned? That is the first question, is it not? Do you and I know that we are conditioned as Christians or as Hindus, conditioned to a certain way of thinking, to a certain pattern of action, conditioned to the routine of an everyday job and to all the fears and the boredom involved in it? Do we know that we are the product of the innumerable influences of society? The churches, the ceremonies, the beliefs and dogmas, the very words we use, have an extraordinary influence on us, neurologically as well as psychologically. Are we aware of all this? If we are, then do we not also want to improve, to become better? There is no noble and honourable conditioning, there is only conditioning, yet most of us are seeking a better way of being conditioned. And is it possible for the mind to uncondition itself? I know some people will say it is not possible and will advance various arguments to prove that it is not. But what we are first trying to do is to experience, not theoretically or in any illusory sense, but actually to experience the fact that we are conditioned, and then to see how the mind seeks a better form of conditioning. The next thing to find out for ourselves, and not depend on some authority to tell us, is whether it is possible for the mind to be unconditioned. Obviously, if we accept any form of belief with regard to conditioning we are like the man who believes or does not believe in God. Neither the believer nor the non-believer can ever find out what is true. It is only when we free ourselves from both belief and non-belief that we are in a position to find out, to discover. So, first we must be clear that we are conditioned, which is quite obvious. And if the mind is not capable of unconditioning itself, surely any form of thinking, any reform, any activity, will only produce further conflict, further misery. Now, being aware that it is conditioned, what is the mind to do? As long as there is a separate entity who observes that his thought is conditioned, there can never be freedom from conditioning, because both the observer and the observed, the thinker and the thought, are conditioned. There is no separate thinker who is unconditioned, for the thinker is the result of thought, and thought is the outcome of conditioning; therefore the thinker cannot uncondition the mind by any practice. When the thinker is aware that he is the thought, that the observer is the observed - which is extremely arduous, it requires a great deal of penetration, insight, understanding - only then is it possible for the mind to be unconditioned. The questioner wants to know in what way an unconditioned mind will transform the life, the daily activities of the individual. Will it be utilitarian? If the mind is unconditioned, in what way will it be useful to living in this world? Will such a mind help to change or reform the world? What relationship will it have with the society in which it must live? It may have no relationship at all with society, society being the activity of greed, envy, fear, acquisitiveness, and all the moral values based on this activity. A man who is unconditioned may affect society, but that is not his principal concern. So, our problem is whether the mind can be unconditioned, is it not? If you really and honestly put this question to yourself, not temporarily, not just while you are sitting here, but if you actually let the seed of this question operate, rather than you operating on the question, then you will find out directly for yourself whether the mind can be liberated from all the influences of society, from the innumerable memories and traditional values which lie in the unconscious, and having unconditioned itself, whether this transformation has any significance in relation to society. Most of us, unfortunately, never put serious questions to ourselves. We are afraid of putting a serious question to ourselves because it may result in serious action, it may create a revolution in our lives - and I assure you that it does. When you really put a serious question to yourself it brings about an extraordinary response, which you may not desire or wish to be aware of. But you are confronted with a serious question, whether you like it or not, because as the world is being conducted it is divided by nationalities, plagued by wars, misery and starvation, and a totally different approach must be made to find the right answer. The old answers, the old arguments, the beliefs, traditions and dogmas are utterly useless. Whether you are a Christian or a Hindu, a Communist or a Capitalist, is completely irrelevant. It is belief which is dividing the world, belief in nationalism, in patriotism, in the so-called superiority of this race or that; it is belief which divides people into Protestants and Catholics, mystics and occultists, which is all utter nonsense. So a different mind is required, a truly religious mind. Only the mind that loves is truly religious, and it is the religious mind that is revolutionary, not the mind that is weighed down by beliefs and dogmas. When the mind is choicelessly aware that it is conditioned, in this awareness there comes a state which is not conditioned. November 12, 1955 SYDNEY 3RD PUBLIC TALK 16TH NOVEMBER, 1955 Most of us, I think, want some authority to mould our lives, our whole being. Because in ourselves we are very uncertain, confused, we turn to others for guidance and try to find the right person or leader to look up to in the conduct of our lives. We think that others know better or know more, and so in our desire to find out if there is a reality, a permanent happiness, a state of bliss, we gradually create authority. Now, it seems to me that this process is totally wrong, if I may use that word, because if we could find the light in ourselves, then there would be no necessity for any authority whatsoever, for any saviour or master, for any teacher, and that is what I would like to discuss this evening. This is one of the most fundamental issues in our lives, is it not? We invariably look for a teacher, for a guide, to shape the conduct of our lives; and the moment we look to another for a mode of action, for a way of living, we create authority and are bound by that authority. We attribute to that person great wisdom, great knowledge; our attitude is, "I am ignorant but you know, you are more experienced, therefore tell me what to do." This attitude invariably breeds the sense of fear, does it not? And does it not also bring about the disciplining of oneself according to the authority of an idea or a person? So, where there is authority created by oneself there must also be the desire to achieve what that authority offers, or what one wants from that authority. Therefore one begins to discipline oneself in order to achieve, through a gradual process of the mind, what one thinks is true. To me this whole process is totally false, because that which is true, whatever name you may like to give it, cannot come into being through any control of the mind, through any form of discipline, or through following any authority. What we are seeking in this process is essentially self-perpetuation, which is not the search for truth at all. It is merely the continuation of one's own gratification in a more subtle form. Surely, as long as we follow, imitate, have an authority, the mind can never be free; for freedom is at the beginning, not at the end. This extraordinary thing which may be called truth, love, or what you will, cannot come into being through any form of obedience to authority, and there are different types of authority. There is the authority of another who is supposed to know, and whose authority the so-called individual may reject, but there is also the authority of experience, of memory, which is much more subtle. Being confused, out of my confusion I look to another, to a teacher, to a book, to an organization, to bring me peace or to help me find out what is true; but when I am confused my search will also be confused, and my action will be the outcome of this confusion. So what is important, surely, is to free the mind from all sense of authority, from all giving of value to someone else's experience and therefore imitating, following. Now, is it possible to find this light within oneself and not look to another? I think it is possible, and that it is the only way. There is no other way, and it requires considerable insight, arduous investigation into oneself. The disciplining of the mind, the following of various teachers, the practice of yoga - all these things are empty, utterly futile to a man who is really serious, because there is self-knowledge, the real thing, only through oneself, it cannot be found through another. But most of us are unwilling to undertake the arduous task of looking into ourselves, so we turn to somebody else who will help us out of our confusion, out of our misery, thereby further increasing our confusion and misery. This love, this truth, or what name you will, obviously cannot be found through another. So, can we as individual human beings discover directly for ourselves what is true and what is false? I think it is very important to ask ourselves this question. To find out for ourselves what is true, must we not put aside all authority? Must we not discard the authority of the book, the authority of the priest, the authority of the Masters, of the Saviours, of the various religious teachers, of those who practise yoga, and all the rest of it? Which means, really, that we must be able to stand alone, without support, without looking to another for any kind of encouragement. It is like taking a journey where there is no guide. Where there is no guide the mind must be extraordinarily alert to every form of deception, and it is only when one has totally put aside all sense of authority, all desire for guidance, that one is capable of looking into oneself without fear. It is fear that makes us turn to others for guidance. We deeply want to be secure, do we not? We want to be certain that we shall arrive, that we shall gain this state of immortality, of truth, of love, of peace. Because we are uncertain of ourselves and of our capacity to find, we look to another to guide us, and in the very process of looking to another we create authority, which brings into being the practice of discipline, and all the rest of it. So, can we undertake by ourselves the journey to find out? In the very asking of this question there is the beginning of freedom, and it is only the free mind that can discover, not the mind that is bound by tradition, by authority, by discipline and control. The mind that is free is capable of facing itself completely as it is, and it is only such a mind that can find out what is true, not the mind that is frightened and therefore follows, imitates. This evening, instead of answering questions, I would like if I may to suggest that we discuss what I have just said. In discussing together you and I must stick to the point and not deviate or make long speeches. We are trying to find out through discussion, not whether you are right or I am right, or whether we should or should not follow, but the truth of this whole problem of following, and to do this we must not just make statements. We must together investigate the problem, which is very complex, because our whole life is a process of imitation from childhood till we die. Society, tradition, the established values, all make us conform, copy. To function in society, you most obviously conform to the pattern of society, you have to adjust yourself to its values. But the truly religious man is free of society, society being the values of greed, envy, ambition, success, fear. Now, this evening can we discuss or verbally exchange what each one of us thinks about this particular matter of following, disciplining, imitating? I think it would be worth while if we could discuss it easily, spontaneously, freely, so that you yourself experience the truth of the fact that the mind invents stages as the one who knows and the one who does not know, as the master and the disciple, the leader and the follower. As long as we think in terms of stages, time, achievement, there must be this illusory idea of following somebody. Where there is love, reality, there is obviously not the teacher and the follower; and in talking it over together, can we directly experience this state? I do not think it is very difficult. It is difficult only when we dogmatically or obstinately assert that we must follow, that there must be a compulsion to hold us to a particular pattern of behaviour, otherwise we shall be lost. Any person who makes such an assertion is obviously not inquiring, he is merely accepting a certain tradition and is afraid to face himself as he is. So, let us see if we can discuss this matter, and if I may I shall stop those who are not really sticking to the point. We are trying to find out if the mind can actually free itself now, as we are discussing, from this fear of not achieving truth or happiness, which drives it to follow somebody, to set up another as the saviour whom it must obey. This is the whole point which we are discussing. Questioner: Yes, sir, it can be done if we have the proper authority to help us, just as we have medical authority to tell us what to do and what not to do when we are ill. Krishnamurti: Just a minute. You have medical authority, but you do not put the doctor on a pedestal, you do not worship him, you do not mould your mind according to his dictates. This is a difficult problem. We are trying to find out how your mind or my mind functions, and whether it can be free from the fear of not achieving an end. Questioner: Must one lead a solitary life? Krishnamurti: I am not suggesting that you should lead a solitary life. You cannot live in isolation. But for most of us all relationship is conflict, and as we do not know how to deal with it, we look to somebody to help us. Questioner: If I am stupid, what then? Krishnamurti: What actually takes place when I am stupid? Do I ever discover that I am stupid, or am I told I am stupid? And what is the immediate reaction? I want to be clever, so I make an effort to be more clever, more intelligent than I am; and the moment I demand the more I have already set a goal which inculcates fear in me. Whereas, if I am capable of looking at what I am, at the fact that I am stupid, surely that very looking at what is brings about a transformation of what is. A stupid mind can never be intelligent through trying to be, but the very recognition that it is stupid has already brought a transformation in itself. That is an obvious fact, is it not, sir? Questioner: It merely means that the mind has a knowledge that it never had before. Krishnamurti: What do you mean, sir? Questioner: Previously it thought it was stupid, now it knows it is stupid. Krishnamurti: Please watch your own reactions. If I realize that I am stupid, the immediate reaction is that I must do something about it, so I strive, I make an effort. Whereas, if I acknowledge I am stupid without trying to do something about it, that very acknowledgment or awareness of my stupidity actually brings a change within, does it not? Questioner: May I say that it does not entail fear to find joy, peace and security in following the Saviour. Krishnamurti: All right, why do we follow at all? This is complex, it is a deep psychological problem, so let us go into it simply. Do we follow anybody? If we do, why do we follow? Questioner: Because the other is much more clever than we are. Questioner: Sir, may I with great respect and deference ask you please to qualify what you mean by the mind. Krishnamurti: That is a question which is not to the point, if I may humbly point it out. We follow, do we not? We are following a book, a saviour, a teacher, a guru, an ideal, a standard. Or is this not so? Questioner: You say, sir, that if we seek truth we may not seek outside authority. What then is the first step? Krishnamurti: I am going to come to that soon, but first let us see what we actually do. We follow, do we not? Why? Questioner: Because we are afraid. It seems that there is a certain gratification involved in following. Krishnamurti: We are not yet discussing the process of following. The fact is that we follow. Why? Please do not answer me. I am asking in order for you to find out for yourself, not to verbalize and tell me. Please, what we are doing here is very important. If we can do this really intelligently it will lead us to great depths, because we are finding out how our minds operate, what our thinking process is. The fact is that we follow. Why do we follow? Please do not answer me immediately. Investigate, go into it. Why does one follow? There are different types of following. You follow what the doctors say, what your boss in the office says, or you are being dominated by your wife, by your husband, by the neighbour. You follow tradition, the edicts of society, the opinion of another. You follow the beliefs and dogmas of a religious organization, or you follow what the priests say, what the sacred books say. This is what we are actually doing, and we never question why we do it. Now, I am asking myself, and I hope you are asking yourself, why does one follow? Questioner: If through introspection I realize why I follow, then maybe I shall cease to follow and shall act in a way which I feel is correct and free. Yet the freedom which I practise may be harmful to somebody else. Krishnamurti: Let us go into this slowly, if you do not mind. The fact is that I follow, and I want to know why I follow, the inward nature of it. I want to unearth, open up the psychological factor that makes me follow. One follows in a worldly sense for obvious reasons. Having a job, I know I must do what the boss says. This much is fairly clear. But what we are discussing is, why do I psychologically follow another? Questioner: Do you feel that you have experienced this freedom? Krishnamurti: I can answer that question, but it is irrelevant, is it not? If I say "yes" or "no", what value will it have? How can you judge? You can only judge according to your standards, according to your psychological inclination or disinclination. But please, this is irrelevant, it is unimportant. What we are trying to find out directly, each one of us, is why we follow psychologically. If we go slowly, step by step, we shall begin to see the process of our own thinking, what is taking place in our minds, in our hearts, of which we are now unconscious. Questioner: Are you suggesting that by analysing his experiences the individual can find freedom of expression? Krishnamurti: No, sir, I am not suggesting that at all. I question the whole accumulation of what we call experience, whether it has any validity at all, because experience is merely a conditioned response. But I don't want to go into that for the moment. We are asking ourselves why we follow. Is it habit? Questioner: I do not follow. I lead the way. Krishnamurti: Then you are a leader. If you are a leader psychologically, there must be a follower for you to lead, and he who is a leader is also a follower. Questioner: Sir, don't you realize that to follow a person is not necessarily to be his follower? One is not his follower if one just treats him as a milestone. Krishnamurti: I am trying to find out why you or I follow psychologically. Questioner: Are we not seeking personal proof? Krishnamurti: You are jumping so far ahead. Questioner: When the intuition is aroused we do not follow, we obey what the intuition says. Krishnamurti: Please, when we talk about intuition, the inner voice, what do we mean by that? The inner voice may be entirely false. Please, I am not trying to destroy your intuition. I am trying to find out whether intuition is true or false. Surely, until you understand the whole process of desire, conscious as well as unconscious, you cannot rely on intuition, because desire may bring you to certain "facts" which are not facts at all. The unconscious desire to be or not to be something makes you accept or reject, therefore you must first understand the whole process of your desire and not say, "Intuition tells me this is true." Let me take a very simple example and you will see it. We all die, fortunately or unfortunately, and my desire for continuity is very strong, as it is in most people. When I hear the word "reincarnation", my intuition says, "Yes, that is true." But is it my intuition, or my desire? My desire to continue is so embedded, so strong, that it takes the form of so-called intuition, which has no meaning at all. Whereas, if I can understand this extraordinary thing called desire, then death will have quite a different significance. Well, let us come back. Why do you or I psychologically follow another? Are we aware that we are following, not only a person, but a teaching or an ideal? I have set up an ideal of the perfect man, the perfect life, the perfect goal, and I follow that. Why? Please do not merely listen to me, but look at the operation of your own mind. You see, you are probably disinclined to put this question to yourself, because the moment you inquire why you follow, many things in your daily life, your Masters, your teachers, guides, philosophers, your books and ideals can no longer be accepted, they have to be investigated, which means that there must be the freedom to investigate, to find out. So, why do you have an ideal? Why do you follow? Obviously, you follow in order to reach something. You have guides, have you not? Being confused, you have some teacher - he may be in India, or standing on the platform now, or it may be somebody you know around the corner - who tells you what to do. Please see this. One is confused, miserable, in conflict within oneself, so one goes to somebody. Questioner: It may be that one has an inferiority complex. Krishnamurti: It is not a question of inferiority or superiority complexes. I am looking at the fact that I am confused. I am confused and you are not confused, at least I think you are not confused, so in my confusion I follow you - you being the Master, the Saviour, the leader. My choice is made in confusion, therefore whoever I choose is also confused, including the politicians. So, being confused, what am I to do? Surely, I have to understand my confusion and not look to somebody else to help me out of it. Questioner: But one can follow and still not be confused. Krishnamurti: Will I follow if I am not confused? Questioner: One can follow in the sense that one agrees with the other's phiIosophy. Krishnamurti: Sorry, you are missing my point. Questioner: I am not confused. Krishnamurti: Then you are out of the picture. Sir, this is not a debate. Please take this seriously, it is not a laughing matter. If I am not confused, then I do not need to follow anybody; then I am my own light, something has happened to me which puts me out of this chaos. But most of us are not in that position. We are confused, we have great sorrow, insoluble problems, and we look to somebody to help us out of our confusion; but that very choice is the product of confusion, so the result is greater confusion. This is fairly obvious, is it not? Now, if I do not follow, if I do not go to another but say, "Let me understand this confusion", then what happens? What happens when I simply acknowledge that I am confused? I don't rush about looking for someone to help me. I see there is confusion, and I remain with it. I know I have created this confusion and that no one else can resolve it - which does not mean that I am cut off, isolated, but I am fundamentally alone, and my whole attitude is that I am willing to discuss with another. I do not follow any authority because I want to solve this problem of confusion, so I begin to tackle it, to find out what confusion is. So the problem is, why do we follow? Is it that we are afraid? The Master, the teacher, the priest, or the sacred book says there is a state of bliss, and we want to achieve it; therefore we follow, we practise a system of yoga, and all the rest of it. So, as long as one has an urgent demand to be something psychologically, as long as one wants to arrive at a state in which one will be unconfused, happy, secure, one must obviously follow. Is that not clear? Please, you are not merely listening to what I am saying, you are being aware of your own confusion, of your own desire to be something. Questioner: We follow somebody who we think knows more than we do. Krishnamurti: You see, that is just it. You follow somebody because he is supposed to be more perfect, which means there is a distance, a gap between you and the other. Is this so, or is it a false creation of the mind? When there is love do you say, "He loves more and I less"? There is only this state of being, is there not? You say you follow somebody because you think he knows more than you do. Does he? And what does he know? Do not answer, but please think it out with me. What does he know? If he is really a true person he knows only a very few things, he knows love, which is not to be envious, not to be greedy, not to be ambitious, to do without the "me". He may or may not be in that state, and you come along and seek something from him. You see a glitter in his eyes, a smile, and you want to be like this man, so your greed is operating. Because you are confused you go to him and say, "Please tell me how you got into that state", and if he also is confused he will tell you, because such a man thinks he has achieved. It is the man who dies every day to everything he has known, experienced - it is only such a man who can have a really still mind and an uncorrupted heart. But let us come back. Is it not important for all of us, if we are at all serious about these matters, to be aware of our own activities and investigate, inquire into their validity? We follow out of habit, do we not? It is the tradition of centuries. Every religious book tells us to seek and follow, but they may all be wrong and probably are, so I cannot depend on any of them. I must find out for myself, which does not mean I am greater than somebody else, or that I am self-centred, egotistic, proud. I must find out, I must know that I am confused. So I begin, not by following the ideal, the tradition, the Master, the book, the priest, or my wife or husband, but by seeing the fact of what I am. In myself I am uncertain, I am miserable, confused, unhappy, and I want to find a way out of all this chaos, so I turn to symbols, to examples, to the teachings of certain persons, because through them I hope to get what I want. It is a very simple psychological process, if I am at all alert, aware. And if I am also aware that nobody can help, that help lies everywhere, not in any one particular direction, then as I walk down the street and look at a person, a dancing leaf, a smile, there may be a spontaneous hint which will uncover a great many things. But this is not possible as long as the mind says, "My leader, my teacher will help me", as long as it obstinately clings to a par- ticular book or follows a chosen path, and to be aware of this whole process in oneself is the beginning of freedom, of wisdom. You do not learn wisdom from books, from teachers. Wisdom is the uncovering of the mind, of the heart, which is self-knowledge. That is why it is very important not to accept anything but to understand the extraordinary process of your own thinking. You require great subtlety to find out the ways of the self, and the mind cannot be subtle when it is merely following, disciplining, controlling, suppressing - which does not mean that you must go to the other extreme, to the opposite. You see, the difficulty in all this is that we do not look at anything simply. The problem is complex, and in approaching a complex problem there must be simplicity, otherwise you cannot solve it. To be simple you must understand yourself, which you cannot do through what a priest or someone else says. You can only understand yourself directly, and it is not a difficult process, it is not a God-given gift reserved for the few, which is all nonsense. If one has the intention to find out what one is thinking, if one is constantly watching every invention of the mind, looking at it, playing with it, being open to every spontaneous reaction, out of this comes self-knowledge, and this is meditation. But wisdom does not come to a human being who follows, because he is merely an imitator, he disciplines himself out of greed. A mind which is imitative, fearful, which is merely copying, following, can never have self-knowledge, and without self-knowledge everything becomes a prison, does it not? It is the mind that creates the division of the high and the low. In reality there is neither high nor low, there is only a state of being, and to come to that state there must be freedom at the very beginning, not just at the end. November 16, 1955 SYDNEY 4TH PUBLIC TALK 19TH NOVEMBER, 1955 This evening I would like to talk about a very complex problem, and I think the understanding of it will depend a great deal on what kind of attention one gives to it. I want to talk about the problem of fundamental change, and whether such a change can be brought about through effort, through discipline, through an ideation. It is fairly obvious that there must be a fundamental, radical change in each one of us; and how is this change to be brought about? Can it be brought about through the action of will, through deliberate thought, through any form of compulsion? And at what level of consciousness does this change come into being? Does it occur at the superficial or at the deeper levels of consciousness? Or does the change come about beyond all the levels of consciousness? Before we go into this problem I think it is important to understand what it means to pay the right kind of attention. If one is merely thinking in terms of exclusive experience, that is, listening to and accepting what is being said as a method by which to attain a certain result, then this method can be opposed by another method, and so exclusiveness comes into being; and all exclusiveness is obviously evil. Whereas, if one can put aside all such ways of thinking - your method as opposed to my method, or your particular line as opposed to mine - and listen to find out the truth of the matter, then that truth is neither yours nor mine and there will be no exclusiveness. Then you do not have to read a single book or follow a single teacher to find out what is true, and I think it is important to understand this. Basically, fundamentally there is no path to truth, no method, neither your way nor my way. In religious experience, surely, there is no exclusiveness, it is neither Christian, Hindu, nor Buddhist. The moment there is any sense of exclusiveness, out of this comes evil. So I would suggest that you listen to find out rather than merely to oppose one argument, one ideation or way of thinking with another. It is obvious, I think, that there must be some kind of radical change, a profound transformation within oneself. How is this change to be brought about? There must be a change in each one of us that will bring with it a totally different outlook, a way of life that is true, not according to any particular person, but true at all times and in every place; and how is this change to be brought about? Will an ideal bring about such a change? The ideal has been established through experience either by oneself or by someone else; and will an ideal of any sort bring about this change, this radical transformation? I think ideals are fictitious, unreal, they are inventions of the mind and have no reality in themselves at all. We hope that through following an ideal the mind will change itself. That is why we all have ideals, the ideal of goodness, the ideal of non-violence, and so on. We hope that by persistently practising, pursuing, submitting to the ideal, we shall bring about a radical change, or at least a change for the better. Now, do ideals bring about this change, or are they merely a convenient projection of the mind to postpone action? Please, may I ask you not to reject this, but to listen to what I am saying. Most of us are idealists, we have some form of ideal which we have established through habit, through custom, through tradition, through our own volition, and we hope that by conforming to this ideal we shall radically change. But after all, the ideal is merely a projection of the opposite of what is. Being violent, I project the ideal of non-violence and try to transform my violence according to that ideal, which creates a constant conflict within me between what is and what should be We think conflict, effort is necessary to bring about this change. Such effort obviously implies discipline, control, constant practice, adjusting oneself to what should be. Most of us are accustomed to this way of thinking, and our activities, our outlook and our values are based on it; the what-should-be, the ideal has become extraordinarily dominant in our lives. To me this way of thinking is completely erroneous, and since you are here to find out what the speaker has to say, please listen to it, do not reject it. I feel that a radical change can come only when there is no effort, when the mind is not trying to become something, not trying to be virtuous - which does not mean that the mind must be non-virtuous. As long as there is effort to achieve virtue there is a continuation of the self, of the "me" who is trying to be virtuous, which is merely another form of conditioning, a modification of what is. In this process is involved the question of who is the maker of effort and what he is striving after, which is obviously self-improvement; and as long as there is effort to improve oneself, there is no virtue. That is, as long as there are ideals of any sort there must be effort to conform, to adjust to the ideal, or to become this ideal. If I am violent and I have the ideal of non-violence, there is a conflict, a struggle going on between what is and what should be. This struggle, this conflict is the state of violence, it is not freedom from violence. Now, can I look at what is, the state of violence, without making an ideal of the opposite? Surely, I am only concerned with violence, and not with how to become non-violent, because the very process of becoming non-violent is a form of violence. So, can I look at violence without any desire to transform it into another state? Please follow patiently to the end what is being said. Can I look at the state which I call violence, or greed, or envy, or whatever it is, without trying to modify or change it? Can I look at it without any reaction, without evaluating or giving it a name? Are you following all this? Please experiment with what I am saying and you will see it directly, now, not when you go home. Being violent, can one look at this state which one has called violence without condemning it? Not to condemn is an extremely complex process, because the very verbalization of this feeling, the very word "violence" is condemnatory. And can one look at this feeling, at this state which one has called violence, without giving it a name? When one does not give it a name, what is happening? The mind is made up of words, is it not? All thinking is a process of verbalization. And when one does not give this feeling a name, when one does not term it as violence, is there not a profound revolution taking place in the attention one gives to this feeling? Let us look at it differently. The mind divides itself as violence and non-violence, so there are supposedly two states: the state which it wants to attain, and the state which is. There is a dualistic process going on, and I feel there can be a radical change only when this dualistic process has altogether ceased, that is, when the totality of consciousness, of the mind, can give complete attention to what is. And the mind cannot give complete attention if there is any sense of condemnation, any desire to change what is, any form of distraction as verbalization, naming. When attention is complete, then you will find that such attention is in itself the good, and that the good is not this effort to transform what is into something else. I think this is perhaps a very difficult explanation of a very simple fact. As long as the mind wishes to change, any change is merely a modified continuity of what is, because the mind cannot think of total change. There can be total change only when the mind pays complete attention to what is, and attention cannot be complete if there is any form of verbalization, condemnation, justification, or evaluation. You know, when a question is put, most of us expect a gratifying answer, we want to be told how to get there, or what to do. I am afraid I have no such answer; but what we can do is to look at the problem, go into it together and discover the truth of the matter, and in considering some of these questions let us bear this in mind. To look for an answer which will be gratifying, to want to be told how to get there or what to do, is really an immature way of thinking. But if we can examine the problem, go into it together, in the very unfolding of the problem we shall discover what is true, and then it will be the truth which operates, not you or I who operate on the truth. Question: Being both a parent and a teacher, and seeing the truth of the freedom of which you speak, how am I to regard and help my children? Krishnamurti: I think the first question is whether one really comprehends deeply that freedom is at the beginning and not at the end. If as a parent and a teacher I really understand this truth, then my whole relationship with the child changes, does it not? Then there is no attachment. Where there is attachment there is no love. But if I see the truth that freedom is at the beginning, not at the end, then the child is no longer the guarantee, the way of my fulfilment, which means that I do not seek the continuation of myself through the child. Then my whole attitude has undergone a tremendous revolution. The child is the repository of influence, is he not? He is being influenced, not only by you and me, but by his environment, by his school, by the climate, by the food he eats, by the books he reads. If his parents are Catholics or Communists, he is deliberately shaped, conditioned, and this is what every parent, every teacher does in different ways. And can we be aware of these multiplying influences and help the child to be aware of them, so that as he grows up he will not be caught in any one of them? So what is important, surely, is to help the child as he matures not to be conditioned as a Christian, as a Hindu, or as an Australian, but to be a totally intelligent human being, and this can take place only if you as the teacher or the parent see the truth that there must be freedom from the very beginning. Freedom is not the outcome of discipline. Freedom does not come after conditioning the mind, or while conditioning is going on. There can be freedom only if you and I are aware of all the influences that condition the mind, and help the child to be equally aware, so that he does not become entangled in any of them. But most parents and teachers feel that the child must conform to society. What will he do if he does not conform? To most people conformity is imperative, essential, is it not? We have accepted the idea that the child must adjust himself to the civilization, the culture, the society about him. We take this for granted, and through education we help the child to conform, to adjust himself to society. But is it necessary that the child should adjust himself to society? If the parent or the teacher feels that freedom is the imperative, the essential thing, and not mere conformity to society, then as the child grows up he will be aware of the influences that condition the mind and will not conform to the present society with its greed, its corruption, its force, its dogmas and authoritarian outlook; and such people will create a totally different kind of society. We say that some day there is going to be a Utopia. Theoretically it is very nice, but it does not come into existence, and I am afraid the educator needs educating, as the parent does. If we are only concerned with conditioning the child to conform to a particular culture or pattern of society, then we shall perpetuate the present state with its everlasting battle between ourselves and others, and continue in the same misery. But if there is an understanding of this problem of right attention, which begins not with the child but with the parent and the teacher, then perhaps we shall help to bring about an unconditioning of the mind, which is not a hopeless task. It is a hopeless task only if you as the parent or the teacher feel that it is impossible. But if you perceive the necessity, the urgency, the truth of all this, then that very perception does bring about a revolution within yourself, and therefore you will help the child to grow into an intelligent human being who will put an end to all this misery, strife and sorrow. Question: All life is a form of ceremony, and the ritual in a church is a divine form of the ceremony of life. Surely you cannot condemn this totally. Or are you condemning, not the ritual itself, but only the corruption that arises from the rigidity of the mind? Krishnamurti: Whether they are divine or not divine, I wonder why we are so fond of ceremonies, rituals, why they are so important to us? To me the whole ceremonial approach to life, the church and its ceremonies included, is totally immature and absurd. Ceremonies have no significance, they are vain repetitions, though you may give divine significance to the ceremonies of the church. To say, "Ceremonies are my way and not your way" is to breed evil, so let us look at it dispassionately to find out the truth of the matter. There is the daily repetition of going to bed, getting up, going to the office, doing certain things, but would you call it a ceremony? Do we give extraordinary meaning to all this, a divine significance? Do we regard it as something from which to get inspiration? Obviously not. There are various daily actions which may become habitual, but perhaps we have thought them out intelligently and are not caught in them. But when we perform ceremonies, the rituals of the church, and so on, do we not look to them for inspiration? We feel good when the ceremony is going on, we feel a certain sense of beauty and we are quiet. The repetition dulls our minds. The ritual absorbs us, it temporarily takes us away from ourselves and we like that feeling, so we give extraordinary meaning to all this. These are simple, obvious facts. Ceremonies are also used for exploitation, to control people, to bring them to a sense of unity which they do not feel. The present society is a society of disunion, but in the church, in rituals, through vain repetition people are temporarily... (Interruption). Please, would you mind sitting down? This is not a discussion. I am talking, I am not attacking, so please do not defend. I am showing you what is. You can take it or leave it. It does not matter to me. Questioner: What you are saying is not the truth. Krishnamurti: Please, if you think ceremonies are necessary, perform them. But if you are willing to examine the whole issue, let us go into it, and you will see how the mind is caught in habits, in vain repetitions, in sensations, in obedience to some authority. A mind that is caught in habit is obviously not free, and such a mind cannot find out what is true. Through habit - I am not for the moment talking about physical habit - the mind seeks a sensation, it becomes psychologically attached to a particular form of ceremony from which it derives a certain satisfaction, a sense of security. Such a mind is obviously not free, and it cannot discover what is true. It is only a free mind that can discover, not the mind that is clogged with beliefs, dogmas, fear, with the constant demand for security. Throughout the centuries every religion has had some kind of ceremony, some kind of ritual to hold the people together, and in ceremonies the people themselves find a certain ease, a forgetfulness of their tiresome daily existence. Their everyday life is boring, and religious rituals, like the processions of kings and queens, offer an escape. But the mind that is seeking escape cannot find that which is timeless, immortal. It does not matter which church says that ceremonies are divine, they are still the inventions of the mind, of the human mind that is conditioned. It is not a matter of my path as opposed to your path, nor are there people who are going to arrive at the truth through ceremonies, while others will arrive by a different way. There is only truth, not your way and my way. To think in terms of your way and my way is false because it tends to exclusiveness, and what is exclusive is evil. Question: We have been taught to believe in personal immortality and in the continuation of the individual life after death. Is this real to you also? Krishnamurti: Is there personal immortality after death? Is there continuity of the "me" with its accumulation of experiences, knowledge, qualities and relationships? Does all that continue when I die? And if it does not continue, then what is the value of this whole process? If the cultivation of character, with its struggles, joys and miseries, merely comes to an end at death, then what significance has life? Now, let us look into it. It is not a matter of what I believe and what you believe, because beliefs have nothing to do with the discovery of truth. A mind that is caught in belief, whether it is belief in reincarnation or in God, is incapable of discovering or experiencing what is true. I think it is really important to understand this, if you will bear the repetition, because the mind is taught, conditioned either to believe or not to believe, which is obviously what is happening in the world. The Communist does not believe in immortality, he says it is all nonsense, because he has been taught, conditioned not to believe, so he fulfils himself in the State, which for him is the only good. Others believe in the hereafter, and they are hoping for some form of resurrection or reincarnation. So when you ask me, "Do you also believe?", I am afraid that is not the question at all because, if you will pay attention, we are going to find out the truth of the matter. Does the "I", the personal "me", continue? What is the "me"? Various tendencies, traits of character, beliefs, the accumulation of knowledge, experience, the memory of pain, of joy and suffering, the sense of my love, my hate - all this is the "me" of the moment, and realizing that it is a very transient "me" we say that beyond it there is the permanent soul, something which is divine. But if that thing is permanent, real, divine, it is beyond time and therefore does not think in terms of dying or having continuity. If there is the soul, or whatever other word you may give to it, it is something beyond time, and you and I cannot think about it because our thinking is conditioned. Our thinking is the outcome of time, therefore we cannot possibly think of that which is beyond time. So all our fear is the product of time, is it not? Again, this is not a matter of my way and your way. We are examining, trying to find out what actually is. And can we look at what is without introducing the belief in something beyond, something which we all want, something super-permanent, a so-called spiritual entity which is timeless? We want to know if we shall survive, and we ask this question primarily because we are frightened of death. So what do we do? We try to have immortality here in our property, do we not? Our whole society is based on this. Property is yours and mine to be handed on to our children, which is a form of immortality through our children. We seek immortality through name, through achievement, through success, we want the perpetuation of ourselves, the endless fulfilment of ourselves. Knowing that we are going to die, that death is inevitable, we say, "What is beyond?" We want a guarantee that there is continuity, so we believe in the hereafter, in reincarnation, in resurrection, in anything to avoid that extraordinary state which we call death. We invent innumerable escapes because none of us wants to die, and all our questions concerning personal immortality are put in the hope of finding a way to avoid that which we fear. But if we can understand death there will be no fear, and then we shall not seek personal immortality either here or in the hereafter. Then our perception, our whole outlook will have undergone a complete revolution. So belief has nothing to do with the discovery of what is true, and we are now going to find out what is true with regard to death. What is death? Can one experience it while living? Can you and I experience what death is, not at the moment when through disease or accident there is a cessation of all thinking, but while we are living, vital, clearly and fully conscious? Can you and I find out what it means to die, can we enter the house of death while we are sitting here looking at the whole problem? What is it to die? Obviously, it is to die to everything that one has accumulated, to every experience, to every memory, to all attachments. To die is to cease to be the self, the "I", is it not? It is to have no sense of continuity as the "me" with all its memories, its hurts, its feeling of vengeance, its desire to fulfil, to become. And can there be the experiencing of this moment when the self is not? Then surely we shall know what death is. The mind is the known, the result of the known, the known being all the experiences of countless yesterdays, and it is only when the mind frees itself from the known, and so is part of the unknown, that there is no fear of death. Then there is no death at all. Then the mind is not seeking personal immortality. Then there is the state of the unknown, which has its own being. But to find that out the mind has to free itself from the known. You may have innumerable beliefs which give you comfort, a sense of security, but until there is freedom from the known there will always be the gnawing of fear. That which continues can never be creative. Only that which is unknown is creative, and the unknown comes into being only when the mind is free from the idea of the perpetuation of the known. You see, the difficulty with most of us is that we want some kind of continuity, and so we invent illusory beliefs. After all, beliefs are merely explanations, and we are satisfied with explanations. But explanations have very little meaning except to a man who wants some form of security, and to find out what is true the mind must reject all explanations, whether of the church, of the priests, of the books, or of those who want to believe. When the mind is free of all explanations, free of the known, you will find the unknown is death, and then there is no fear. That state is totally different and it cannot possibly be conceived of by a mind that is conditioned in the known. When the mind is free from the known, the unknown is. November 19, 1955 SYDNEY 5TH PUBLIC TALK 23RD NOVEMBER, 1955 This evening I would like to discuss what is perhaps rather a complex problem, but I think we can make it quite simple. You see, our minds are full of conclusions, knowledge, experiences, they are crowded with the things that we know. And is it possible to free the mind from the known? The known is made up of the facts, the struggles, the sorrows, the greed of everyday living, as well as the accumulated experience of man through centuries; and is it possible for the mind to recognise these facts that make up the known, and yet be free of them so that some other state may come into being? When one's mind is full of conclusions, assumptions, experiences, filled with the happiness, the travail, the sorrows that have pursued one all through life, there is then no freedom to look at anything new. If, for instance, in listening to what I am saying you have assumed certain things about me - that you know and I do not, or that I know and you do not - or your mind is shaped, conditioned by what you have read so that you listen with a preconception, a conclusion, a background, then your mind is not simple; and it seems to me that one needs great simplicity to find out if there is something which is not a mere product of the mind. If the mind is functioning all the time only within the field of the known, as it does with most of us, we find this area so limited, so narrow and petty that the mind begins to invent ideals, imaginations, delusions through which it escapes from the actual. Most religions offer such an escape, and the so-called religious person is full of fantastic ideas, beliefs and dogmas. So the mind functions all the time within the field of the known, does it not? That is an actual fact which we are not seeking to deny or put aside. And the question is whether such a mind is capable of investigating or receiving something which is not merely an experience or a conclusion of the known. One cannot forget the road by which one travels, the name of the street in which one lives, and so on, that would be too absurd. But the mind gets used to the known and develops habits, it gets caught in certain conclusions, assumptions, postulates, and so we think in this area all the time; therefore the mind is never free to be really simple, and we think that the more we learn, read, pray, or practise a particular kind of meditation, the better we shall be able to find something beyond. So the question is, can the mind, being the residue, the result of the known, of knowledge, of experience, free itself from the known and find something beyond? I would like to discuss this with you, if you will, because I think it is an important question. When we talk about religious experience, we mean going beyond the self, the "me", the known, do we not? Or perhaps most of us do not think in those terms at all. But it seems to me that the more thoughtful, alert and aware we are, and the more deeply we go into this question, the more obvious it is that any real revolution can come into being only through the religious person; and the religious person is not one who believes, who follows certain dogmas or practises a particular form of meditation. To me, the religious person is one who is aware of the known and does not allow the known to interfere with his search into the unknown. This is what I would like to discuss with you this evening, and I hope the problem is clear. Questioner: Why is it more important or more vital to be concerned with the unknown, however real, than with the known, which is both real and present? Krishnamurti: I have insisted in all my talks that the mind must be free from the known to find something which may be called the unknown. If I have preconceived ideas, assumptions about you, surely I do not understand you. Now, can the mind be freed of all these assumptions, beliefs, dogmas, habits of thought? To put it differently, can the mind be made simple so that it is capable of a completely new experience, not an experience based on the old, an experience which is projected? Can the mind be open to the unknown, whatever that is, and yet be aware of the known, of the present fact? Is the problem clear? If it is, then let us discuss it. I think this is an important problem to understand, because if we do not understand this problem we shall be going around in circles thinking we are experiencing something very real when it is merely a projection of our own desire, and therefore living in an illusory world of our own imagination. So, a religious man is one who is inwardly free from the known, is he not? Does all this mean anything to you? After all, we have been brought up as Christians, Hindus, Moslems, Buddhists, or what you will, with certain dogmas, traditions and beliefs, and the mind is so conditioned by its background that all its experiences are consciously or unconsciously the outcome of this conditioning. As a Hindu I may have visions of the various gods which the Hindu culture has imprinted on me, just as you who have been brought up as Christians may have visions of Christ, and so on. Such a vision we call a religious experience; but actually, psychologically, what is taking place? The mind is merely projecting, in the form of an image, a symbol, the quality of the background it has inherited, is it not? Therefore the experience is not real at all, but the conditioning is a fact. Now, can a mind on which have been imprinted the culture, the traditions, the dogmas of Christianity, of Hinduism, or of Buddhism, know its conditioning? Can it be aware of and free itself from this conditioning, so that it is able to find out if there is something more than the mere activity of the mind which is always functioning within the field of the known? I think the question is clear by now, so let us discuss it. Questioner: Whatever may be one's conditioning, there is experience going on which is real, and that experience is not related to one's conditioning. Such experience gives one proof that certain things are true. Krishnamurti: Please go slowly. Do not assume that you are right and I am wrong, or that you are wrong and I am right. This requires thorough going into, investigating. Is there experience apart from my conditioning which gives me proof that something which others have said is true? That is, I see my conditioning, but besides this conditioning I experience something which proves to me that my conditioning is right. Now, is there experience apart from and unconnected with my conditioning? If I am a Buddhist, for example, and I experience a vision of the Buddha, or of the Buddhistic state, is that experience unconnected with my conditioning as a Buddhist? Yet such an experience convinces many people that their conditioning is right, that what they believe is true. If I happen to be a Communist and do not believe in gods and all the rest of the nonsense, obviously I do not have that experience at all. I may have visions of a wondrous Utopian State, but not of the Buddha or the Christ. It is the background or conditioning that creates the image, the vision, and this experience only convinces me further that what I believe is true. So when we dissociate experience from the background of our thinking, surely that division is without validity, it has no meaning. Questioner: What would be the nature of an experience which was not resulting from the background of the mind? Krishnamurti: That is right, sir, surely that is the question. What kind of experience is it that is free of the background? And can there be such an experience? We cannot assume anything. If we are going to find out the truth of the matter there must be no assumption, no sense of obedience to any authority. The question has been asked, what kind of experience is it that is not dictated by the background, that is not the outcome of the background? Now, can one describe this experience? I am not trying to avoid the question. Can you or I communicate to another this experience which is not the outcome of the background? Obviously not. First we must see the truth of the fact that all our experiences are dictated by the background, and not imagine that we are experiencing something dissociated from the background. May I here suggest that those of you who are taking notes should not do so. You and I are trying to experience directly, now, the thing we are discussing, and if you take notes you are not really listening to what is being said. If you take notes you are doing so in order to think about it tomorrow. But thinking about it directly, now, will have much greater significance than thinking about it tomorrow, so may I suggest that you do not distract others and yourself by taking notes. If one is to find out whether there is an experience which does not arise from the conditioning of the mind, must one not first see the truth of the fact that all experience is at present either the outcome of one's background, one's conditioning, or the reaction of that background to challenge? Do you see this fact? Are you conscious of the fact that your mind is conditioned as a Christian, as a Socialist, a Communist, or what you will, and that all your experiences and reactions spring from this conditioning? That is so, is it not? Questioner: Whether one is a Christian, or belongs to some other religion, is largely a matter of destiny. Krishnamurti: Please do not introduce words like destiny. That is off the main subject, it is not what we are discussing for the time being. Not that we cannot discuss it another time, but we must restrict ourselves to the point. Questioner: By the word "experience" do you not really mean understanding or knowledge? Krishnamurti: Those three words, experience, knowledge and understanding, are related to each other, are they not? Questioner: But they are not the same. Krishnamurti: No, of course not, sir. They are related to each other. If I want to understand not only what you are saying but the totality of you, I must not have a preconception about you, I must not have a prejudice or retain in memory either the injuries you may have caused me, or your pleasant flatteries. I must be free of all that in order to understand you, must I not? Understanding comes only when I can meet you anew, not through the screen of experience. This is a sufficiently complicated question, so do not let us make it more complicated. If it is clear what we mean by understanding, and what we mean by experience and knowledge, let us go on. I cannot understand if my mind reacts according to the limitation of my conditioning. Surely, this much is fairly simple. And is one aware that one reacts according to one's conditioning? Are you aware of the fact that as a Christian, a Communist, a Socialist, or whatever you may happen to be, you defend certain beliefs, religious or non-religious? Are you aware that your mind, being the residue of the past, is limited, and that whatever it may choose or experience is also limited? Questioner: Is spontaneous love or affection dependent on the background? Krishnamurti: Sir, do we know what spontaneous love is? Do you and I know love which is not the outcome of a conditioning, of a motive, of a social morality, of a sense of duty or responsibility? Do we know love in which there is no attachment? Or is it that we have read of such a state and we want to be in that state? Coming back to the point, are we aware, you and I, that our minds are so complex, so conditioned, that there is in us nothing original, if I may use this word without being misunderstood? Are we capable of original understanding, of experiencing something uncontaminated, untouched, pristine, or are we mere gramophone records repeating what we have read, or what our background instigates? Are not fear and desire dictating some fancy, some imagination or hope? And can one be free of all this? One can be free, surely, only when one is aware that one's visions, hopes, beliefs are the outcome of one's own desire and are based on one's particular conditioning. Is it clear up to this point? Audience: Yes. Krishnamurti: Now, what do you mean by yes? Please do not be impatient or laugh it off. Have you merely accepted an explanation, or are you directly aware of the fact that you are conditioned, apart from the explanation? Do you see the difference between the two? Audience: Yes. Krishnamurti: Please go slowly. Questioner: Would it be that as we become more aware of present things it creates the incoming of a new force? Krishnamurti: Sir, I am not talking about the incoming or outgoing of a new force. What I am talking about is very simple. Do you know that you are conditioned? And when you say "yes", does this statement reflect merely the verbal understanding of a verbal explanation, or are you aware that you are conditioned? Now, which is it? Questioner: I am aware that I am conditioned. Krishnamurti: Please be patient. This is important. Questioner: If I am conditioned, can I be aware that I am conditioned? Krishnamurti: Can I be aware that I am nationalistic, that I have certain beliefs, dogmas, prejudices? Can I know this? Surely I can, can I not? So, do I know that I have assumptions, prejudices, certain experiences which are the outcome of my conditioning, and that my mind is therefore very limited? Am I aware of this, not theoretically but actually? Am I directly experiencing the fact that my mind is conditioned? Questioner: One can only say that one WAS conditioned. Krishnamurti: Do you mean that before you came to this meeting you were conditioned, and now you are not conditioned? Questioner: We can know that we had an original experience only after we have had it, when the mind is again full of the known. Krishnamurti: Please, this is a very complex problem, but if you will go slowly into it you will see for yourself the whole significance of what we are talking about. As human beings we are not creative, our minds are burdened with memories, sorrows, greed, dogmas, the nationalistic spirit, and so on. And is it possible for the mind to see all this and extricate itself? Surely, the mind can be free only when it knows that it is not free, that it is conditioned. Do I know this, am I directly experiencing this conditioning? Do I really see that I am prejudiced, that I have many assumptions? We have assumed that there is or is not God, that there is immortality or annihilation, that there is resurrection or reincarnation, and many other things; and can the mind be aware of all these assumptions, or at least of some of them? Questioner: When you say "we", do you mean that your mind as well as ours is conditioned by these traditions and greeds which have moulded us? What do you mean by "we"? Krishnamurti: It is a way of speaking. We are looking at the mind, yours and mine. Let us stick to this for the moment. Questioner: As long as we are satisfied, what is the problem? Krishnamurti: As long as you are satisfied, as long as you say it is perfectly all right to be a Christian, a Hindu, or a Communist, it is not a problem. Questioner: Then we have to be dissatisfied. Krishnamurti: No, it is not that you have to be dissatisfied. But you are dissatisfied, are you not? Audience: Yes. Krishnamurti: You see, the problem of dissatisfaction or discontent is quite different. If I am not satisfied I want to find some way to be satisfied, so I do not accept the present state, the present condition. Questioner: Do you imply that verbalization is a bar to understanding, to direct experience? Krishnamurti: Obviously, because the whole process of the mind is verbalization. I may not use a word, I may have instead an image or a symbol. If I have a symbol in my mind, the Hindu or the Christian idea of reality, of God, or what you will, even though I do not verbalize or put it into words, that symbol prevents the understanding of the real. Please, let us not go into these various points, even though they are related, but let us stick to one thing. Can you and I know, while sitting here, that we are conditioned? Can we be conscious, fully aware of that fact? Audience: Yes. Questioner: What has all this got to do with the primary need of every human being, which is food, clothing and shelter? Krishnamurti: Sir, we all need sufficient food, clothing and shelter, each one of us, but there are millions, practically the whole of Asia, who have not got them. An equitable distribution of the physical necessities is prevented by our psychological greed, our nationalism, our religious differences. Psychologically we use these necessities to aggrandize our own selves, and if we go slowly into this thing we are discussing you will yourself answer this question instead of asking me. What we are trying to do here is to liberate ourselves from each other so that you and I are original individuals, real human beings, not the mass of the collective. So, if that is understood, can we say, "I know I am conditioned"? Questioner: Yes, I know I am conditioned, and I must do something about it. Now, how do I free myself? Krishnamurti: The lady says that she knows she is conditioned, conditioned in the known. She knows her prejudices, her assumptions, her conscious and unconscious desires, urges, compulsions, and knowing all that she asks, "What can I do, how am I to break through it?" Is that what most of you are asking too? Audience: Yes. Krishnamurti: All right. Let us go step by step, and please follow this a little patiently. I am aware that I am conditioned, and my immediate reaction to that awareness is that I must be free from conditioning, so I say, "How am I to be free? What is the method, the system, the process by which to be free?" But if I practise a method I become a slave to the method, which then forms another conditioning. Questioner: Not necessarily. Krishnamurti: Sir, let this idea float around a little bit. Being aware that I am conditioned, that I am greedy, I want to know how to get rid of it. The question of how to get rid of it is prompted by another form of greed, is it not? I may practise non-greed day after day, but the motive, the desire to be free from greed, is still greed. Go slowly, please. So the "how" cannot solve the problem, it has only complicated the problem. But the question can be answered totally, as you will presently see for yourself. If I am fully aware that I am greedy, does not that very awareness free the mind from greed? If I know a snake is poisonous, that is enough, is it not? I do not go near the snake. But we do not see that greed is poison. We like the pleasant sensation of it, we like the comfortable feeling of being conditioned. If we were trying to free the mind from conditioning we might be antisocial, we might lose our job, we might go against the whole tradition of society, so unconsciously we take warning and then the mind asks, "How am I to get rid of it?" So the "how" is merely a postponement of the realization of the fact. Is this point clear? What is important, then, is why the mind asks for a method. You will find that there are innumerable methods which say, "Do these things every day and you will get there." But in following the method you have created a habit and to that you are a slave, you are not free. Whereas, if you see that you are conditioned, conditioned to the known, and are therefore afraid of the unknown, if you are fully aware of this fact, then you will find that that very awareness is operating, is already bringing about a measure of freedom which you have not deliberately tried to achieve. When you are aware of your conditioning, actually, not theoretically, all effort ceases. Any effort to be something is the beginning of another conditioning. So it is important to understand the problem and not find an answer to the problem. The problem is this. The mind, being the result of time, of centuries of conditioning, moves and has its being in the area of the known. This is the actual fact, it is what is happening in our daily lives. All our thinking, our memories, our experiences, our visions, our inner voices, our intuitions, are essentially the outcome of the known. Now, can the mind be aware of its own conditioning and not try to battle against it? When the mind is aware that it is conditioned and does not battle against it, only then is the mind free to give its complete attention to this conditioning. The difficulty is to be aware of conditioning without the distraction of trying to do something about it. But if the mind is constantly aware of the known, that is, of the prejudices, the assumptions, the beliefs, the desires, the illusory thinking of our daily life, if it is aware of all this without trying to be free, then that very awareness brings its own freedom. Then perhaps it is possible for the mind to be really still, not just still at a certain level of consciousness and frightfully agitated below. There can be total stillness of the mind only when the mind understands the whole problem of conditioning, how it is conditioned, which means watching, off and on, every movement of thought, being aware of the assumptions, the beliefs, the fears. Then perhaps there is a total stillness of the mind in which something beyond the mind can come into being. November 23, 1955 SYDNEY 6TH PUBLIC TALK 26TH NOVEMBER, 1955 I would like this evening to discuss the problem of time, for if we could really understand this problem I think it would answer many of our questions and probably put a stop totally to this endless desire to find, this urge to discover what is true. To me the search for truth through time has no meaning, and if we could understand the desire, the drive to find, then perhaps we should be able to look at the problem of time in a different way altogether. We think that there is a gap or an interval between what is and what should be, between the ugly and the beautiful, and that time is necessary to achieve that which is beautiful, that which is true; so our endeavour, our everlasting search is to find a way to bridge this gap. We pursue gurus, teachers, we control ourselves, we accept the most fantastic ideas, all in the hope of bridging the gap, and we think that a system of meditation or the practice of discipline is necessary in order to arrive at that which is the absolute, the real, the true. This is what I would like to go into, and I hope you will discuss it with me after I have talked a little. Now, we accept this process, do we not? All the religious teachers and the sacred books prescribe it, and all religious endeavour is based on it: I am this, and I must become that. But this process may be entirely false. There may be no gap at all, it may be purely a mental one, a totally unreal division created by the mind in its desire to arrive somewhere, and I think it is very important to understand this. We assume that truth must be achieved through time, through various forms of effort, but this assumption may be utterly illusory, and I think it is. It may be that all we have to do is to perceive the illusion of it, to see, not as a philosophical idea but as a factual reality, that there is no arriving through time, that there is no becoming but only being, and that we cannot be if there is any attempt to achieve an end. To understand, to perceive that, whatever that other state is, it cannot be found or realized through time, we must be capable of thinking very simply and directly, and it seems to me for most of us this is the difficulty. We are so used to making effort to achieve through practice, through discipline, through a process of time, that it has never occurred to us that this effort may be an illusion. Now, this evening can we think of this problem entirely differently, and not be concerned with the "how"? Can we look at it as though there were no gurus, no teachers, no disciplines, no systems of yoga, and all the rest of it? Can we wipe away all these things and perhaps see directly that which may be called truth, God, or love? One of our difficulties is that we have accepted this idea that we must make effort through time to achieve, to become, to arrive. Has this idea any reality, or is it merely an illusion? I know that the teachers, the swamis, the yogis, the various philosophers and preachers, have maintained that effort is necessary, the right kind of effort, the right kind of discipline, because they all have an idea, as we also have, that there is a gap between ourselves and reality; or they have said reality is in us, and having accepted it we ask, "How am I to get to that reality?" So, can we put aside all assumption, all conception of an end to be achieved through effort, through time? If that whole process is seen to be false, then is there not a state of being, a direct, instantaneous perception without any intermediary? This is not to hypnotize oneself, it is not to say, "I am in that state", which has no meaning at all and is merely the outcome of assumptions and traditions. Can we go into this problem together? Questioner: Is physical effort also illusory? Krishnamurti: What do you think, sir? Questioner: What do you mean by time? Krishnamurti: Please, just a minute. May I suggest that we listen to each other and not merely be occupied with our own particular question. This gentleman asked if physical effort is also illusory. Need he ask that question? If we did not make an effort physically, what would happen? It is obvious, is it not? So, either he was asking the question sarcastically, or he was really inquiring where physical effort ceases and the other thing begins in which there is no effort at all. Psychologically we are making effort, are we not? Our whole desire is to be something psychologically We want to be virtuous, inwardly peaceful, we want a mind that is silent, a richness of life. That being our psychological urge we consider it essential to make tremendous inward effort, so we become very serious about this effort. If a person makes such an effort and maintains it constantly, if he conforms to an ideal, to a goal, to the so-called purpose of life, and so on, we call him virtuous; but I wonder if such a person is virtuous at all, or is merely pursuing a glorified projection of his own desire? Now, if one could understand this psychological urge to become, then perhaps physical effort would have quite a different meaning. At present there is conflict between the psychological urge in one direction and physical effort in another. Many of us go to the office every day and are perfectly bored with the whole thing, because psychologically we want to be something else. If there were no psychological urge to be something, then perhaps there would be an integration, a totally different approach to physical activity. What were you saying, sir? Questioner: I was interested to find out what you mean by time. Krishnamurti: Chronological time is obvious; it exists, it is a fact. But I am using this word "time" in the psychological sense, the time which is necessary to close the gap between me and that which I want to be, to cover the distance which the mind has created between me and that which is God, truth, or what you will. Though the mind has invented this psychological time and insists that it is necessary in order to practise various forms of discipline, in order to achieve bliss, heaven, and all the rest of it, I am questioning - and I hope you are also questioning - its validity, I am asking whether or not it is an illusion. If there were not effort to arrive, to achieve, to become, we are afraid that we would stagnate, vegetate, are we not? But would we? Are we not deteriorating now in making this effort to become something? The actual fact is that through effort, through time we are trying to bridge the gap between what is and what should be, which creates a constant battle within ourselves, and this whole process is based on fear, on imitation, not on direct perception or understanding. So, one of our difficulties is that the mind, which is obviously the result of time, has invented this gap which perpetuates desire, the will to be something; and seeing that desire is part of the process we try to be desireless, so again there is this effort to be, to become. Now, I am questioning this whole issue, which we have accepted and according to which we live. To me this way of living has no meaning. There is a state in which there is direct perception without effort, and it is effort that is preventing the coming into being of that state. But if you say, "How am I to live without psychological effort?", then you have not understood the problem at all. The "how" again introduces the problem of time. You may perhaps feel that it is necessary to live with- out effort, that it is the true way to live, and the mind immediately asks, "How am I to achieve that state?" So you are again caught in the process of time. I do not know if it has happened to you, but there are moments of complete cessation of all effort to be something, and in that state one finds an extraordinary richness of life, a fullness of love. It is not some faraway illusory ideal, but an actuality which is perceived directly, not through time. You see, this opens up another issue. Is knowledge necessary to that perception? To build a bridge I must have the "know-how", I must be able properly to evaluate certain facts, and so on. If I know how to read I can turn to any book which gives the required facts, but what we do is to accumulate knowledge psychologically. We pursue the various teachers, the wise people, the sages, the saints, the swamis and yogis, hoping that by accumulating knowledge, by gathering virtue, we shall be able to bridge this gap. But is there not a different kind of release, a freedom, not from anything or towards anything, but a freedom in which to be? Is this all too abstract? Audience: No. Questioner: We are already free if we realize that we are one with God. Krishnamurti: Please, sir, that is an assumption, is it not? The mind assumes in order to arrive. A conclusion helps one to struggle towards that conclusion. Whether we say, "I am one with God", or "I am merely the product of environment", it is an assumption according to, which we try to live, You see, that is what I mean by knowledge. You may say, "I am one with life", but what significance has it? This whole layer of assumptions, gathered through one's own effort or from the effort of others, may be totally wrong; so why should one assume anything? Which does not mean that one must have an empty mind. Questioner: Is there not in all this a certain fear of desire itself? Krishnamurti: Is there fear of having desire? Let us go into this a little bit. What is fear? Surely, fear comes only in the movement away from what is. I am this and I do not like it, or I do not want you to find out about it, so I am moving away from it. The moving away from it is fear. There is desire, the desire to be rich and a hundred other desires. In fulfilling or in not fulfilling desire there is conflict, there is fear, there is frustration, agony, so we want to avoid the pain which desire brings but hold on to the things of desire which are pleasurable. This is what we try to do, is it not? We want to hold the pleasure which desire brings and avoid the pain which desire also brings. So our conflict is in accepting or clutching the one while avoiding the other, and when we ask, "How am I to be free of sorrow, how am I to be perpetually happy and at peace?", it is essentially the same problem. Questioner: Sir, will you tell us what is a better method to attain oneness beyond the mind? Krishnamurti: Please, you are not listening to what I am saying. This desire to be one with everything is the same problem as wanting to be successful in the world, is it not? Instead of saying, "I want to have money and how am I to get it?" you say, "I want to realize God, or truth, or oneness, and how am I to do it?" Now, both are on the same level, one is not superior to or more spiritual than the other, because both have the same motive. Do please listen to this. One thing you call worldly, the other you call unworldly, spiritual, but if you examine the motive, it is essentially the same. The man who pursues money may look up to the man who says, "I want to be spiritual, I want to achieve God", because wanting to be spiritual is considered virtuous, but if you go into this matter seriously you will see that the two pursuits are intrinsically the same. The man who wants a drink and the man who wants God are essentially the same, because they both want something. One goes to the pub and gets a drink immediately, while the other has this time interval, but there is no fundamental difference between them. This is very serious, it is not a laughing matter. We are all caught in the same struggle. And is it possible to have this extraordinary sense of completeness, of reality, this fullness of love, not tomorrow, not through time, but now? Can there be direct perception, which means awakening to all the false thinking, to the pursuit of the "how" and seeing it as false? Questioner: Sir, is not time necessary to this perception? Krishnamurti: Is not time necessary to perceive what is? You see, we all assume this, it is the accepted thing, and this is what I have been questioning. Sirs, this is not a matter of "yes" or "no", of saying "You go your way and I go mine." It is not at all like that. We are trying to understand the problem, we are trying to go into it very deeply. We are not making any assumption, any dogmatic or authoritarian assertion, but are trying to feel out this problem, and we can feel it out only when the heart is not obstinate. You may investigate, but if you are obstinate, that obstinacy prejudices your investigation. The lady says she feels time is necessary. Why? Do you understand what we mean by time? Not chronological time, but the time created by desire, by our psychological intentions and pursuits. You say that time is necessary to realize truth, and you have accepted it as the inevitable process. But someone comes along and says this process may be unnecessary, it may be utterly false, illusory, so let us find out why you think it is necessary. Questioner: I think time is necessary for the realization of freedom. Krishnamurti: Sir, please go into it slowly, deeply, and you will see. Why do we think time is necessary? Is it not because we regard truth as being over there while we are here, so we say this distance, this gap must be covered through time? That is one of the reasons, is it not? The ideal, the what should be is over there, and to arrive at that I must have time, time being the process which will bridge the gap. Are you following all this? Questioner: No, sir, not quite. Krishnamurti: Let me put it differently. Where there is the desire to become, psychologically there must be time. As long as I have an ambition, either for worldly things or for the so-called spiritual things, to fulfil that ambition I must have time, must I not? If I want to be rich I must have time. If I want to be good, if I want to realize truth, God, or what you will, I must also have time. Is this a fact or not? It seems such an obvious thing. Surely that is what we are all doing, it is what is actually taking place. Questioner: Nothing happens without time. Krishnamurti: Sir, this is really a very complex problem, it needs deep investigation, not mere assertions which we reject or accept. That has no value. Questioner: The mind is free of time altogether, is it not? Krishnamurti: Is it? Is that not an assumption? Sirs, what is it we are talking about? What are we trying to find out? You see, we are all suffering, we are living in relationship, which is pain, an endless conflict with society or with another. There is confusion, and a vast conditioning of the mind is going on through so-called education, through the inculcation of various religious and political doctrines; Communism, like Catholicism, completely binds the mind, and the other religions are doing the same thing in a minor form. Seeing the extraordinary discontent of man, his unfathomable loneliness, his sorrow, his struggle, being aware of all this, not just theoretically but actually, one wants to find out if there is not a different way of living altogether. Have you ever asked yourself this question? Have you asked yourself whether a saviour, a teacher, a guru, or a discipline is necessary? Will these things rid man of all sorrow, not ten years later, but now? Questioner: Time is the crux of the problem, and to me time seems inevitable. Krishnamurti: It is not a matter of how it seems to you or to me. A hungry man does not think in terms of time, does he: He says, "I am hungry, feed me." But I am afraid most of us are not hungry, so we have invented this thing called time, time in which to arrive. We see this whole process of human misery, conflict, degradation, travail and we want to find a way out of it, or a method to change it, which again implies time. But there may be a totally different state of being which will resolve all this turmoil, and which is not a theoretical abstraction, a mere verbalization or imitation. Questioner: Why does love appear to be a burden? Krishnamurti: Is that what we are discussing? Sirs, please, if we can understand at least this one thing, then all these talks will have been worth while and you will not have wasted your time coming here in spite of the rain. Can we really see that there is no teacher, no guru, no discipline, that the guru, the discipline, the method exist only because of the division between what is and what should be? If the mind can perceive the illusion of this whole process, then there is freedom; not freedom to be something or freedom from something, but just freedom. Questioner: We are not ideal beings. We must learn to love. Krishnamurti: Sir, is love, goodness, or beauty something to be achieved through effort? Let us think about it simply, shall we? If I am violent, if I hate, how am I to have love in my heart? Will one have love through effort, through time, through saying, "I must practise love, I must be kind to people"? If you have not got love today, through practice will you get it next week or next year? Will this bring about love? Or does love come into being only when the maker of effort ceases, that is, when there is no longer the entity who says, "I am evil and I must be- come good"? The very cognition that "I am evil" and the desire to be good are similar, because they spring from the same source, which is the "me". And can this "me" who says, "I am evil and must be good" come to an end immediately, not through time? This means not being anything, not trying to become something or nothing. If one can really see this, which is a simple fact, have direct perception of it, then everything else is delusion. Then one will find that the desire to make this state permanent is also an illusion, because effort is involved in that desire. If one understands deeply the whole desire for permanency, the urge to continue, sees the illusion of it, then there is quite a different state which is not the opposite. So, can we have direct perception without introducing time? Surely, this is the only revolution. There is no revolution through time, through this misery of perpetually wanting to be something. That is what every seeker is doing. He is caught in the prison of sorrow, and he keeps on pushing, widening and decorating that prison; but he is still in prison because psychologically he is pursuing the desire to be, to become something. And is it not possible to see the truth of this and so be nothing? It is not a matter of saying, "I must be nothing", and then asking how to be nothing, which is all so grotesque, childish and immature, but of seeing the fact directly, not through time. Questioner: There is a famous saying, "Be still and know God." Krishnamurti: You see, that is one of the extraordinary things in life: you have read so much that you are full of other people's knowledge. Someone has said, "Be still and know God", and then the problem arises, how am I to be still? So you are back again in the old game. Be still, full stop. And you can be really still, not verbally but totally, completely, only when you understand this whole process of becoming, when you see as illusion that which now is a reality to you because you have been brought up on it, you have accepted it, and all your endeavour goes towards it. When you see this process of becoming as illusion, the other is, but not as the opposite. It is something entirely different. Surely, this is not a matter of acceptance. You cannot possibly accept what I am saying. If you do, it has no meaning at all. This demands a direct perception independent of everybody, a complete breaking away from all the traditions, the gurus, the teachers, the systems of yoga, from all the complications of trying to be, to become something. Only then will you find freedom, not to be or to become, which is all self-fulfilment and therefore sorrow, but freedom in which there is love, reality, something which cannot be measured by the mind. November 26, 1955 BANARAS 1ST PUBLIC TALK 11TH DECEMBER 1955 If we could go into the question of what is teaching and learning, I think it might be of significance; because after all, you have gathered here to learn something, have you not? When you attend a talk, it is generally to gather information, to learn something of which you may not yet be aware. So I think it is important to discuss what it is that we are learning and what it is that is being taught, and I hope at the end of this little talk that we can go into the matter together so that it becomes clear to each one of us what it is that we are trying to do when we attend a meeting of this kind. Are you here to learn something from the speaker? You may come with the idea that you are going to learn something which is being taught; but if that is not the intention of the speaker at all, then there is no direct communication between the speaker and the audience, and therefore you will go away feeling rather disappointed and asking yourself what you have got from it. In order to prevent that entirely, we must discuss this question of learning and teaching, and I hope you will go into it with me. It is important to unravel this idea that we are learning Something, for I think a great deal or mischief lies in this conception of learning. Through learning does one perceive directly something which may be true, real, something other than the formulations of the mind? Do you follow what I mean? Is there direct perception through learning, through knowledge, or do we perceive directly only when there is no barrier of learning, when there is no knowledge? What do you mean by learning? You want to find happiness, reality, serenity, freedom - that is what most of you are groping after. Being discontented, dissatisfied with things, with relationships, with ideas, you are seeking something beyond, and you go to a swami, a guru, or X, who you think has this quality you are seeking. You want to learn how to arrive at this extraordinary integration of the totality of human consciousness, so you come here as you go to any religious teacher, with the intention to learn. After all, that is the intention of the majority of the people who are here, and if you will kindly pay attention to what is being said, I am sure it will be worth while. Now, can you be taught to have direct perception? Can there be this totality of integration, this clarity of perception through knowledge, through learning, through a method? Will the learning of a technique or the following of a particular system lead to it? With the majority of us, learning is the acquiring of a new technique, substituting the new for the old. I hope I am making myself clear in this matter. There are various methods with which you are quite familiar, one or other of which you practise in the hope of directly perceiving something which may be called reality, that state which has no becoming but is only being. Similarly, you have come here to learn, have you not? You want to find out what method the speaker will offer to reveal this extraordinary state. You want to learn how to approach this state step by step through the practice of certain forms of meditation, through the cultivation of virtue, self-discipline, and so on. But I do not think that any method will bring about clear perception; on the contrary. Method implies time, does it not? When you practise a method you must have time to bridge the gap between what is and what should be. Time is necessary to travel the distance created by the mind between the fact and the dissolution of the fact, which is the end to be achieved. Our whole ideology is based on this sense of achievement through time, so we begin to acquire, to learn, and therefore we rely on the master, the guru, the teacher, because he is going to help us to get there. So, is perception or direct experience of that reality a matter of time? Is there a gap that must be bridged over by the process of knowledge? If there is, then knowledge becomes extraordinarily important. Then the more you know, the more you practise, the more you discipline yourself, and so on, the greater your capacity to build this bridge to reach reality. We have taken it for granted that time is necessary. That is, if I am violent I say time is necessary for me to be in a state of non-violence; I must have time to practise non-violence, to control, discipline the mind. We have accepted this idea and it may be an illusion, it may be totally false. Perception may be immediate, not in time. I think it is not a matter of time at all - if I may use the phrase `I think', not to convey an opinion, but an actual fact. Either one perceives, or one does not perceive. There is no gradual process of learning to perceive. It is the absence of experience, which is based on knowledge, that gives perception. Is this all too difficult or too abstract? Let me put the problem differently. Our activities, our pursuits are self-centred. To use an ordinary word, our action, our thought is selfish, it is concerned with the `me', and we read or hear that the self is a barrier and that it is therefore necessary for the self to cease - not the higher or the lower self, but the self, the mind which is ambitious, which is afraid, which is cunning in the devious pursuits of its own greed and dependence, the mind which is the result of time. That mind is self-concerned; and can that self-concern be washed away immediately, or must it be peeled off layer after layer through a gradual process of knowledge, experience, and the continuation of time? Do you understand the problem, sirs? Please, we are going to discuss this matter when I have talked a little while longer, if I may; because after all, we are here to experience, not to learn, and I want to differentiate between learning and experiencing. You can experience what you learn, but such experience is conditioned by what you have learned. You can learn something and then experience it, which is fairly obvious. I can read about the life of the Christ and get very emotional, very thrilled by it all, and then experience what I have read. I can read the Gita, conjure up all kinds of ideas, and experience them. Both conscious reading and unconscious learning bring about certain forms of experience. You may not have read a single book, but because you are a Hindu, conditioned by centuries of Hinduism, consciously or unconsciously the mind has become the repository of certain traditions and beliefs which may produce experiences to which you attach tremendous importance; but actually, when you examine these experiences, they are nothing but the reaction of a conditioned mind. Now, what we are trying to find out in this talk, and in the coming talks that are to be held here, is whether there can be direct experience stripped of all knowledge, of all learning, so that it is true and not merely the reaction of one's conditioning as a Hindu, a Buddhist, a Christian, or as a member of some other silly sect. Perception cannot be true as long as it is based on a method, because the method obviously produces its own experience. If I believe in Christianity, or in some other religion, and I practise a method which will lead me to truth according to that belief, surely the experience it produces has no validity at all. It is an experience based on my own conviction, on my own pettiness, on my conditioned mind. What is experienced is merely the outcome of that particular method whereas what I am talking about is something entirely different. If we see that the method is false, an illusion, the product of time, and that time cannot lead to direct experience, then that very perception is the liberation from time. Our relationship is then entirely different. Do you follow, Sirs? We are not here to learn a new method or technique, a new approach to life, and all that business. We are here to strip the mind of all illusion and perceive directly, and that requires astonishing attention to what is being said, not a casual communication with each other as if you were attending just another talk. What matters is to free the mind from knowledge and from the method, the practice based on that knowledge, which can only lead to the thing we crave for. That is why it is very important to understand what I am saying, to see the illusion the mind has created as time through which to acquire, to learn, to arrive, to gain. Don't immediately say that reality, God, the Atman is within us, and all the rest of it. It is not. That is your idea, your superstition, your conditioned way of thinking. You say that God is within us, and the Communist, who has been differently trained from childhood, says that there is no God at all, that what you are saying is nonsense. You are conditioned to believe in one way, and he in another, so you are both the same. Whereas, the whole concern of this talk is to find out if the mind can strip itself immediately of this belief, this knowledge, this conditioning, so that there is direct perception. One may live a thousand lives and practise self-discipline, one may sacrifice, subjugate, meditate, but this will never lead to direct perception, which can take place only in freedom, not through control, subjugation, discipline; and there can be freedom only when the mind is immediately aware of its conditioning, which brings about the cessation of that conditioning. Now, can we discuss this? Questioner: We are normally so closely identified with our conditioning that we are not aware of our conditioning at all. Questioner: There is a ceaseless movement with which we are totally identified and from which we are constantly trying to run away, and the nervous exhaustion born of this conflict brings about dullness of body and mind. Would it be right to say that a certain alertness of both body and mind is absolutely essential if we are to pursue the investigation which you have laid before us? Krishnamurti: Obviously, sir. If I want to run a race I must have the proper diet; if I want to do anything very efficiently I must eat the right food, not overload the stomach, get the proper amount of exercise, and so on. My mind and body must be extraordinarily alert. Questioner: This alertness does not come to us unless we have lived thoughtfully the previous day. The moment we sit down in serious thought it is necessary that we should sit properly, otherwise the mind will wander and we shall not be able to think strenuously. When you say that direct perception cannot come through any form of discipline, but only when there is the utmost freedom, our minds immediately tend to slouch into a kind of slothfulness. I see it happening to myself. While it is obvious that such things as discipline, correct posture, and regulated breathing, are not going to give us direct experience, they do bring about a certain alertness of body in which the mind is neither slothful nor is it chasing about without knowing what it is running after. Unless one is able to live in this state of alertness, which is a normal condition of the mind, anything that you are talking about is Greek. Krishnamurti: I understand, sir, but I think the problem is somewhat different. One may acquire the correct posture of body, breathe rightly, and all the rest of it, but that has relatively little significance in regard to what we are talking about. Let me put it differently. If I see that I hate, is it possible for me to love immediately, or must hate be gradually washed away so that I can love eventually? That is the problem. Do you follow, sir? Is it possible for the mind to transform itself immediately and be in a state of love? Questioner: If I may refer to your previous talk about memory, it is concealed that a great deal of our mentation is a purely mechanical response of memory, and through identification most of us are constantly getting lost in our loves and hates without being aware of it. Even when we are aware of it, is that awareness not also mechanical, the result of effort? Is this relevant to what you are saying, or not? Krishnamurti: I am not sure it is relevant. The problem is this. One is aware that one is ambitious, and being sufficiently alert, intelligent, or watchful, one sees how absurd, how destructive it is. Ambition, spiritual ambition included, obviously implies a state in which there is no love. Wanting to be somebody spiritually, wanting to be non-violent, is still ambition. Perceiving all that, is it possible for one to wipe away ambition instantly and not go through this everlasting struggle of investigation, analysis, discipline, idealization, and all the rest of it? Can the mind wipe away ambition instantly and be in the other state? Is this possible? Don't agree, sirs, it is not a matter of agreement or disagreement. Have you thought about it? Questioner: Our minds are always trying to modify our conditioning. Krishnamurti: Just stick to my point, if it is a problem to you. Or am I making it a problem to you, and therefore it is not really your problem? What is your response? Questioner: We should like to know how to do it. Krishnamurti: The gentleman here asks how to do it, and that is the whole thing. First please look at the question itself, the `how.' I am ambitious and I want to be in a state of love; therefore I must wipe away ambition, and how am I to do it? Please follow this. The very question involves time, does it not? The moment you ask `how', you have introduced the problem of time - time to bridge the gap, time to arrive at that state called love - and therefore you can never arrive at it. Do you understand, sirs? Questioner: You have talked about the state of direct perception. Is it not legitimate to inquire into that state? Perception involves three factors, the seer, the seeing, and the object seen. That is how we apprehend perception. Are you talking of a faculty apart from this? Krishnamurti: I also am quite good at all this kind of stuff! What is the perceiver, and is the perceiver separate from the object of his perception? Is the thinker apart from the thought? That is what you are saying, is it not? But that is not our problem for the moment. Don't misunderstand me, I am not trying to... Questioner: You used the words `direct perception'. Krishnamurti: We can change the words, they are not important. Let me put it differently. I am aware that I am ambitious, cruel, stupid, what you will, and it is generally accepted, and supported by the sacred books, the rituals, the belief in Masters, in evolution, and all the rest of it, that through a slow, gradual process of effort I shall transcend what I am and come to something beyond. I see what is involved in that: the maker of effort, the effort, and the object towards which he is making the effort, which is all a process of mentation. Seeing this, I say to myself, `Is it possible for me to drop ambition completely and be in that state which may be called love?' I am not going to describe what that state is. My problem is, I am violent; and is it possible for me to drop my violence completely, instantly? Questioner: Is the possibility a matter of chance or of effort? Krishnamurti: Just look at it, sir. If there is effort you are back in the old field of gradualness. If it is merely chance, a matter of good luck, then it has no meaning. If I may say so, I don't think you are really putting the question to yourself. I am aggressive, ambitious, and I see that the whole rotten society around me is also ambitious and aggressive in different degrees. It is all very tawdry, stupid, vain, and yet I am caught in it; and is it possible to drop ambition completely, to leave it and never touch it again? Do you follow my question, sir? But this is not my question, it is your question if you have ever tackled this problem. Or do you say, `I am ambitious and I will get rid of ambition slowly, tomorrow or in my next life, through discipline, through using the right mantram, practising right awakening,' and the whole rigmarole of it? Is this your problem, sir? If it is not, I am not going to foist it on you. But if it is your problem, what will you do with it? Sir, look. Most of us have no love, whatever that quality is. We may have a temporary feeling which we call love, but which is almost akin to hate, it is not that extraordinary thing. Perhaps some of us may have this flowering, this nourishing, creative thing, but most of us are in a state of confusion and sorrow. Now, can one simply drop all this and be the other without going through the tremendous complications of trying to become something, without arguing about whether the perceiver is apart from the object perceived, and so on? Questioner: Again it will involve time. Krishnamurti: What will you do, Sir? Questioner: Nothing. Krishnamurti: Sir, what is actually happening to you now? Either we talk theoretically, abstractly, in order to pass an afternoon discussing together, or else we really want to find out, to experience and not just keep on everlastingly verbalizing. What is the actual response to this problem on the part of each one of us? If we can discuss, verbalize what is actually taking place in response to the problem, it will have significance, but merely to spin a lot of words, theories, is of no value. Questioner: This whole discussion is nothing but a verbal one. Krishnamurti: What does it mean to you? Leave the others alone. Please, sir, I am not attacking you, I am not pushing you into a corner; but when this problem is put to you, what is your response? Questioner: Being is being. It cannot be described by any words. Krishnamurti: I understand that, sir. But here is a very grave problem involving a complete revolution in thinking; it means scrapping all leaders, all gurus, all methods, does it not? And what happens when a problem of this kind is put to one? That is, when we are aware that we hate, and we want to be free from hate, what do we generally do? We try to find a method of getting rid of it from a book, from a guru, and so on. Now, does one see that the practice of a method is an illusion, or does one say that a method is necessary? That is the first question, obviously. What do you feel, sir? Not that you are being compelled by me to say there must be no method; that would be another illusion, a mere repetition of words, or a pose, which would have no meaning at all. But if you actually see that any practice of a method to get rid of hate is an illusion, and therefore has no validity at all, then your looking at hate will have undergone a total transformation, will it not? When we look at hate now we say, `How am I to get rid of it?' But if we can look at hate without the `how', then we shall have quite a different reaction to that which we perceive. So we must know what our response is to this question. Do you understand, sir? Please, would you kindly listen to find out first, and not ask how to get rid of hate. I am not concerned with how to get rid of it. That is a very trivial matter. The problem is this. Being aware that we hate, we now say, `How am I to get rid of it, what am I to do to be free of this venom?' The moment that reaction arises in us, how to be free, we have introduced several factors which have no validity at all. One of those factors is the process of gradually wearing down hate over a period of time; another is the making of effort to achieve a result; and still another is depending on somebody to tell us how to do it. These are all self-centred activities which are also a form of hate. I don't know if you are following all this. So, does one still think in terms of how to get rid of hate? That is the issue - not how to be free, or what happens when one is free, but does one still think in terms of `how'? Questioner: Then the `how' is not so important. Krishnamurti: What is actually happening to you, sir? What really takes place when you are confronted with this question? If you are very honest with yourself you will see that you are still thinking in terms of `how', which reveals that the mind still wants to achieve a state, does it not? And achievement is the process of time. A scientist who is experimenting to find something, for example, obviously needs time; but is hate to be dissolved through time? The yogis, the swamis, the Gita, the Mahatmas - all of them say that hate is to be dissolved through time, but they may all be wrong and probably they are. Why should they not be? And I want to find out if there is a different way of looking at this problem instead of accepting the traditional approach, which I see invariably degenerates into mediocrity. Merely to accept tradition is stupid. Even if ten thousand people say that something is true, it does not mean they are right. So my problem is: is it possible to be free of hate now, not in the future? Questioner: If one may ask a direct question, what is the purpose of your talks? Krishnamurti What is the purpose of talking? To communicate, is it not? Otherwise one would not talk. Now, what is it that I am trying to communicate to you? I am trying to communicate to you the fact that a certain widely accepted way of thinking is illusory and has no basis at all. But to communicate there must be someone to listen, someone who says, `I am really listening to you'. Are you, sir, listening to me? Yes? And what do you mean by listening? I am not trying to corner you. Do you really ever listen to anything, or do you listen only partially? If your mind is still concerned with the `how', you are not listening. You can listen only when you give complete attention, and you are not giving complete attention as long as you are thinking that there must be a method, because then your mind is not free to look at what is being said. There is complete attention only when one says, `He may be totally wrong, he may be talking nonsense, but at least I am going to find out what it is he is trying to convey'. And are you doing that? That is a very difficult thing in itself, is it not? Because to give complete attention is to know love, it is to have the total feeling that one is going to find out what another is saying without acceptance or rejection - which does not mean that I am going to become your authority. Do you give attention in that way? Questioner: Is it possible, sir? Krishnamurti: If it is not possible, there is no communication. That is the difficulty. Sir, look. If you are telling me something and I want to find out what it is you are trying to convey, I must listen to you, must I not? I cannot be thinking to myself that you are talking the same old stuff, that you are this or that, or that it is time to go. I must pay complete attention to what you are saying and have no verbal or other barrier in my mind. Do we listen in that way? Questioner: Is complete attention a state of mind different from the ordinary state of attention? Krishnamurti: You see, you are not listening at all to what I am talking about. You want to know what complete attention is. I can describe it, but what does that matter? The thing of first importance is, are you listening? You see how difficult it is for most of us really to inquire, to find out, to listen. Not that you must listen especially to me, because whether you listen to me or not does not matter to me; but since you have taken the trouble to come here, I say for God's sake listen, not only to me, but to the working of the machinery of your own mind, which is now confronted with a problem. The problem is, can hate be dissolved immediately? To find out how you respond to that question, has validity. If you say, `Yes, I am listening', but your intention is to find a method to get rid of hate, then you are not looking at the problem because you are only concerned with the `how'. But in psychological matters, is there ever a `how'? Do you follow, sirs? This is a very complex problem, so don't just say `yes' or `no'. In technical processes, in building, cooking, putting together the jet plane, washing dishes efficiently, and so on, there is a `how', and the more alert you are the more efficient the `how' becomes; but in psychological matters, is there a `how' at all? Is there a gradual process of evolution, change, or only immediate transformation? Questioner: Then what is to be done with the psychological problem? Krishnamurti: Sir, look at the problem. I shall have to stop now. You cannot absorb more than an hour of this kind of talk. There is the problem of dying. We are all dying; and can the mind be in a state in which there is no death? It is essentially the same problem, only I am using a different set of words. The mind is aware that it is going to die, so it turns to various doctrines, to knowledge, to experiment, it believes in reincarnation, it reads the Upanishads, and so on, all of which is based on the desire to continue. And can I find out directly for myself if there is a state in which there is no death, and not depend on some bearded gentleman to tell me what there is after death? This is the same problem as being ambitious, violent, greedy, envious, and whether it is possible to drop all that completely - which means, really, finding out if one is pursuing a method. Are you pursuing a method to help you to dissolve hate? Most of you have accepted as a fact that a method is necessary, and as I am now questioning the factual nature of that which you have accepted, you are resisting what I am saying. But if through questioning, through looking at the problem, you yourself are aware that the practice of a method is a total illusion, then your way of looking at hate will have undergone a tremendous change, and this perception of illusion obviously does not come about through effort. Sirs, please, we are going to meet, I don't know how often, and instead of my lecturing can't we for a change go into this matter as two human beings, as friends who are really listening to the problem and trying to find out what is true? We are not opposing each other, nor are you accepting what I say, because in this search there is no authority, there is no master and shishya, no guru and all that nonsense. Here we are all equal, because in trying to find out what is true there is real equality. Please, sirs, listen to what I am telling you. It is only when you are not seeing reality that there is this phoney division of the matter and the disciple. Surely, where there is love there is no inequality. There must be love when we seek, and we are not seeking when we treat another as a disciple or as a guru. For the inquiry into truth there must be the cessation of all knowledge. Where there is love there is equality, not the man who is high and the man who is low. BANARAS 2ND PUBLIC TALK 18TH DECEMBER 1955 I would like, if I may, to discuss with you the problem of search, and what it is to be serious. What do we mean when we say we are seeking? So-called religious people are supposed to be seeking truth, God. What does that word signify? Not the dictionary meaning, but what is the inward nature of seeking, the psychological process of it? I think it would be significant if we could go into this matter very deeply; and may I again remind those who are here that through the description or verbal explanation they should actually experience what is being discussed, otherwise it will have very little meaning. If you regard these talks merely as something to be taken down, just a new set of ideas to be added to your old set of ideas, they will have no value. So, let us see if together we can go into this real problem of what it is to seek. Can anything new be found through search? Why do we seek, and what do we seek? What is the motive, the psychological process that makes us seek? On that depends what we find, surely. Why do I seek truth, happiness, peace, or something beyond all mentation? What is the impetus, the urge that compels one to seek? Without understanding that urge, mere search will have very little meaning, because what one is really seeking may be some kind of satisfaction, unrelated to reality. But if we can uncover the whole mechanism of this process of seeking, then perhaps we shall come to a point where there is no search at all, and it may be that that is the necessary state for anything new to take place. As long as the mind is seeking there must be endeavour, effort, which is invariably based on the action of will, and however refined, will is the outcome of desire. Will may be the outcome of many integrated desires, or of a single desire, and that will expresses itself through action, does it not? When you say you are seeking truth, behind all the meditation, the devotion, the discipline entailed in that search, there is surely this action of will, which is desire; and in pursuing the fulfilment of desire, in trying to arrive at a peaceful state of mind, to find God, truth, or to have this extraordinary state of creativity, seriousness comes in. One may seek, but if there is no seriousness one's search will be dissipated, sporadic, disconnected. Seriousness invariably goes with search, and it is apparently because you are serious that most of you are here. Sunday afternoon is a pleasant time to go boating, but instead you have gone to the trouble of coming here to listen, perhaps because you are serious. Being dissatisfied with traditional ideas and the accustomed point of view, you are seeking, and you hope by listening to find something new. If you were completely satisfied with what you have, you would not be here, so your presence at these talks indicates that you are dissatisfied; you are seeking something, and your search is obviously based on the desire to be satisfied at a deeper level. The satisfaction which you are seeking is nobler, more refined, but your search is still the pursuit of satisfaction. That is, we want to find the total integration of our whole being, because we have read, or heard, or imagined, that that is the only state in which there is undisturbed happiness, lasting peace. So we become very serious, we read, search out philosophers, analysts, psychologists, yogis, in the hope of finding this integrated state; but the impetus, the drive is still the desire to fulfil, to find some kind of satisfaction, a state of mind which will never be disturbed. Now, if we are really to inquire into this matter, our inquiry must surely be based on negative thinking, which is the supreme form of thinking. We cannot inquire if our minds are tethered to any positive directive or formula. If we accept or assume anything, then all inquiry is useless. We can inquire, search, only when there is negative thinking, not thinking along any positive line. Most of us are convinced that positive thinking is necessary in order to find out what is true. By positive thinking I mean accepting the experience of others, or of oneself, without understanding the conditioned mind which thinks. After all, all our thinking is at present based on the background, on tradition, on experience, on the knowledge which we have accumulated. I think that is fairly clear. Knowledge gives a positive direction to our thinking, and in pursuing this positive direction we hope to find that which is truth, God, or what you will; but what we actually find is based on experience and the process of recognition. Surely, that which is new cannot be recognized. Recognition can only take place from memory, the accumulated experience which we call knowledge. If we recognize something, it is not new, and as long as our search is based on recognition, whatever we find has already been experienced, therefore it comes from the background of memory. I recognize you because I have met you before. Something totally new cannot be recognized. God, truth, or whatever it is that results from the total integration of one's whole consciousness, is not recognizable, it must be something totally new; and the very search for that state implies a process of recognition, does it not? I don't think what I am talking about is as difficult as it sounds. It is really fairly simple. Most of us wish to find something, let us for the moment call it God or truth, whatever that may mean. How do we know what truth or God is? We know what it is either because we have read about it, or experienced it; and when that experience comes, we are able to recognize it as truth or God. The recognizing of it can only arise from the background of previous knowledge, which means that what is recognized is not new; therefore it is not truth, it is not God. It is what we think it is. So, I am asking myself, and I hope you are asking yourself, what is this thing which we call search? I have explained what is implied in this whole problem of seeking. When we go from guru to guru, when we practise various disciplines, when we sacrifice, meditate, or train the mind in some way, the impetus behind all this effort is the urge to find something, and what is found must be recognizable, otherwise it cannot be found. So what the mind finds can only be the outcome of its own background, of its own conditioning; and if once the mind understands this fact, then search may not have this meaning at all, it may have a totally different significance. The mind may then stop seeking altogether -which does not mean that it accepts its conditioning, its travails, its miseries. After all, it is the mind itself that has created all the misery, and when the mind begins to understand its own process, then perhaps it is possible for that other state, whatever it be, to come into being without this everlasting effort to find. Now, sirs, let us discuss this. Is this a problem to you, or am I imposing this problem on you? You must have observed how millions of people are seeking, each one following a particular guru or practising a particular system of meditation; or else they go from teacher to teacher, joining one society, dropping it, and going on to another, everlastingly seeking, seeking, seeking, which of course can also become a game. So perhaps you have asked yourself what it all means. You read the Upanishads, or the Gita, or listen to a talk in which certain explanations are given, certain states described, and they all say, `Do this, abandon that, and you will discover the eternal'. All of us are seeking in some degree, intensively or in a weak way, and I think it is important to find out what this search means. Can we very simply and directly ask ourselves, each one of us, whether we are seeking, and if we are seeking, what is the drive behind this search? Questioner: Dissatisfaction. Krishnamurti: Are you sure this is your own experience and not somebody else's? If it is your own experience that your search is based on the urge of dissatisfaction, then what do you do, sir? Questioner: We go from guru to guru till we find satisfaction. But even then we don't know what will happen in the future. Dissatisfaction is compelling us, it is the state in which we pass our lives. Krishnamurti: And as you grow older you become more and more serious in this search; but you have never inquired if there is such a thing as satisfaction at all. Questioner: Man is always thirsty and he wants to satisfy his thirst. Krishnamurti: Sir, if you were always thirsty after drinking, would you not find out whether thirst can ever be quenched? And if satisfaction is only momentary, then why give this enormous significance to gurus, sacrifices, disciplines, sadhanas, and all the rest of it? Why break yourselves up into sects and create conflict with your neighbours and in society for the sake of a passing comfort? Why get caught in Hinduism or Christianity if it is merely a temporary relief? You may say, `I know all this gives only temporary relief, and I do not attach much significance to it'. But do you really go to your guru and say that you have just come for a temporary relief? Must you not inquire into this? And can there be inquiry if one's heart is obstinate? The obstinacy of the heart prevents inquiry, does it not? Let us begin with that. If I am obstinate in my way of thinking, which is called being positive, if my mind is committed to some form of conclusion, opinion, or judgment, can I inquire at all? You say no. We all agree, but are not our minds caught in some conclusion, in some experience? Therefore inquiry is not only biased but impossible. Sirs, can we really talk a little bit definitely about this, searching deeply in our own minds and thereby awakening self-knowledge? Can we find out if we are committed to some formula, to some conclusion or experience, to which the mind clings? Questioner: There is always a hope of finding the ultimate satisfaction. Krishnamurti: First let us see if our minds are committed to some experience, to some conclusion or belief which makes us obstinate, unyielding in the deep sense. I just want to begin with that, because how can there be inquiry as long as the mind is incapable of yielding? We have read the Gita, the Bible, the Upanishads, this or that book, which has given a bias to the mind, a certain conclusion to which the mind is tethered. Can such a mind inquire? Is not that the case with most of us, and must not our minds be free of all commitments as Hindus, Theosophists, Catholics, or whatever it be, before we can inquire? And why are we not free of all that? When we have commitments and then inquire, it is not inquiry, it is merely a repetition of opinions, judgments, conclusions. So, in talking this evening, can we drop these conclusions? Surely, even the greatest scientists must drop all their knowledge before they can discover something new; and if you are serious, this dropping of knowledge, of belief, of experience, must actually take place. Most of us are somewhat serious in terms of our particular conclusions, but I don't consider that to be seriousness at all. It has no value. The serious man, surely, is he who is capable of dropping all his conclusions because he sees that only then is he in a position to inquire. Questioner: We may say we have dropped our conclusions, but they come up again. Krishnamurti: Do we know that our minds are anchored to a conclusion? Is the mind aware that it is held in a particular belief? Sir, let me put it very simply. My son dies and I am in sorrow, and I come across the belief in reincarnation. There is great hope and promise in that belief, so my mind holds on to it. Now, is such a mind capable of inquiring into the whole problem of death, and not just into the question of whether there is a hereafter? Can my mind drop that conclusion? And must not the mind drop it, if it is to find out what is true - drop it, not through any form of compulsion or reward, but because the very inquiry demands that it be dropped? If one doesn't drop it, one is not serious. Sirs and ladies, Please don't feel frustrated by my questions, which seem so obvious. If my mind is tethered to the peg of belief, experience, or knowledge, it cannot go very far; and inquiry implies freedom from that peg, does it not? If I am really seeking, then this state of being tethered to a peg must end, there must be a breaking away, I must cut the rope. There is then never a question of how to cut the rope. When there is perception of the fact that inquiry is possible only when there is freedom from obstinacy, or from attachment to a belief, then that very perception liberates the mind. Now, why does this not happen to each one of us? Questioner: One feels safer with the rope. Krishnamurti: That is so, is it not? You feel safer when the mind is conditioned, so there is no adventure, no daring, and the whole social structure is that way. I know all these answers; but why don't you drop your belief? If you don't, you are not serious. If you are really inquiring you do not say, `I am seeking along a particular line, and I must be tolerant of any line which is different', because that whole way of thinking comes to an end. Then there is not this division of `your path' and `my path', the mystic and the occult, and all the stupid explanations of the man who wants to exploit are brushed aside. Questioner: Is search itself brushed aside? Search for what? Krishnamurti: That is not our problem for the moment. I am saying that there is no inquiry when the mind is attached. Most of us say we are seeking, and to seek is really to inquire; and I am asking, can you inquire as long as your mind is attached to any conclusion? Obviously, when the question is put to you, you say, `Of course not'. Questioner: Do you visualize the day when there will be no churches or temples of any kind? And as long as there are churches and temples, can people keep their minds un-tethered? Krishnamurti: The people are always you and I. We are talking about ourselves, not the people. Questioner: But can we keep our minds un-tethered as long as there are churches? Krishnamurti: Why not, sir? May I say something? Forget the people, churches and temples. I am asking, is your mind bound? Is your mind obstinate, attached to some experience, to some form of knowledge or belief? If it is, then such a mind is incapable of inquiry. You may say, `I am seeking; but you are obviously not seeking, are you, sir? How can the mind have freedom of movement if it is held? We say we are seeking, but there is really no seeking at all. Seeking implies freedom from attachment to any formula, to any experience, to any form of knowledge, for only then is the mind capable of moving extensively. This is a fact, is it not? If I want to go to Benaras, I can't be tied, held in a room; I must leave the room and go. Similarly, your mind is now held, and you say you are seeking; but I say you cannot seek or inquire as long as your mind is held - which is a fact which you all acknowledge. Then why does not the mind break away? If it does not, how can you and I inquire together? And that is our difficulty, is it not, sirs? Questioner: As long as the churches and temples are there, it is difficult to break away. Krishnamurti: Sir, who has created the churches and temples? Men like you and me. Questioner: They were unlike me, unlike us. Krishnamurti: You and I may not have created an outward temple, but we have our inward temples. Questioner: That is a very high conception. It is not possible for every ordinary human being to seek the inward self. Krishnamurti: We are not meeting each other, I am afraid. It is not a question of seeking the inward self. I am saying that there is no seeking at all when there is attachment to any formula, to any experience, to knowledge in any form. That is so obvious. If you think in terms of Catholicism, Protestantism, Buddhism or Hinduism, your mind is obviously incapable of inquiry. When you see a fact of this kind, why is it so difficult for the mind to drop its attachment and begin to inquire? You are sitting here listening, trying to find out, trying to inquire, and I say you cannot inquire if there is any form of attachment, that is, if the mind is in bondage to any conclusion, to any formula, to any kind of knowledge or experience. You agree that this is perfectly true, and yet you don't say, `I am going to drop all attachment' - which really indicates that you are not serious, does it not? You may talk of being serious, but I say that word has no value, no meaning, as long as your mind is tethered. You may get up at 4 o'clock and meditate, control your words, your gestures, do all the disciplinary things, thinking that you are very serious; but I say these are mere superficial observances. A serious mind is one which, being aware of its bondage, drops it, and begins to inquire. Questioner: What is the means of breaking one's attachment to a conclusion? Krishnamurti: Sir, is there a means? If there is, then you are attached to the means. (Laughter). I know, you laugh it away, but that is not merely a clever statement. Sirs, is not freedom implicit in inquiry? And that is why freedom is at the beginning, not at the end. When you say, `I must go through all this discipline in order to be free', it is like saying, `I will know sobriety through drunkenness'. Surely, there can be inquiry only when there is freedom. So freedom must be at the beginning and as long as it is not, though what you do may be socially and conventionally satisfying, it has no meaning. It has a certain value for people who are after a sense of security, but it has not the value of discovery. Though these people get up early and go through all the rigors of discipline, I say they are not serious. Seriousness lies in being aware that the mind is tethered to an experience, or a belief, and breaking away from it - which is what you don't want to do. So is it not important for you to inquire into this? Otherwise you will come here day after day, year after year, and listen merely to words, which will have very little meaning. Questioner: You say freedom precedes inquiry, but we wish to inquire into freedom. Krishnamurti: Sir, how can you inquire if your mind is held? This is just ordinary reason, common sense. If your guru says, `This is the way', and you are held by that, how can you look beyond it? You go to the guru in order to inquire - and you get caught in his words, you are mesmerized by his personality, you become involved in all the things which he stands for. Your original impetus is to inquire, but that impetus is based on your desire for some kind of hope, satisfaction, and all the rest of it. So I say, to inquire there must first be freedom. You don't have to search for freedom. I am reversing your whole process of thinking, which is obviously false, even though the sacred books say otherwise. Questioner: What will come after the inquiry? Krishnamurti: That is merely an intellectual question, if I may say so. Don't you see? You want to know what will happen `after', which is theoretical. The mind likes to spin words, to speculate. I say you will find out. It is like a prisoner saying, `What will it be like after I leave the prison?' To find out he must leave the prison. Questioner: Sir, we who are sitting in this hall are people of various cults, creeds and beliefs, and we are listening to what you are saying, even though we do not really understand it. What you are saying is new to most of us, we have never heard it before, and while it sounds very nice to the ear, we cannot comprehend it. What is it that makes people sit quietly for an hour and listen earnestly to something which they cannot grapple with? Is this not in itself a form of inquiry, which means that the mind is not really tethered to a conclusion? If the mind were tethered to a conclusion, there would not be this wanting to find a different way of life, and these people would not come here, or they would just close their ears; yet they come and listen very intently. Does this not indicate a certain freedom to inquire? Krishnamurti: What is making you listen, sirs? What is making you listen to someone who says things which are entirely contrary to all that you believe and hold? Is it his personality, his reputation, the ballyhoo, the noise that is made around him? Is that what makes you listen? If it is, then your listening has very little meaning. So, what is it that is making you listen? Perhaps it is the fact that you are confronted with something which happens to be true, and in spite of your being tethered, you cannot help listening; yet you will go back to the conditioned state. Is that what is making you listen? Or are you really listening? Do you follow? Are you really listening, or is it that you have got into the habit of sitting quietly when somebody is talking, because you like being lectured to? These are not vain questions. I am really trying to find out why it is that, when something true is said, there is no immediate response. That is the real question I am asking. You say, or I say, there can be no inquiry without freedom, which is obviously true; it is a fact, regardless of who says it. Now, why does not that fact produce an immediate, trenchant action? Or has that fact a mysterious operation of its own which cannot be immediately expressed? Someone has stated the fact that, for inquiry, there must be freedom, freedom from being tethered, and you listen to that fact. However partially you listen, that fact has taken root in the mind because it has vitality; the seed is going to blossom, not within a certain period, but it is going to blossom, and that may be why it is important to listen to facts, whether you are listening willingly, consciously, or are only half listening. But after all, that is the way of propaganda. They keep on repeating, `Buy such-and-such a soap', and eventually you buy it. Is that what is happening here? If you hear a certain fact being constantly repeated, and you presently act according to that fact, such action is entirely different from the action of the fact itself. Sirs, we shall have to stop. I won't ask you to think it over, because merely thinking it over has no meaning; but if you would really inquire into this whole problem of seeking and what it is to be serious, then the mind must find out how to inquire, and what inquiry is. Any assumption, any conclusion, any attachment to knowledge or experience, is an impediment to inquiry. As long as the mind is tethered to some conclusion, inquiry is an immense struggle, a process of effort, striving, breaking through; but if the mind sees the truth that there can be inquiry only when there is freedom, then inquiry has quite a different meaning altogether. If one realizes this, one is never a slave to any guru, to any formula, to any belief. Then you and I can pool our inquiry, and out of that we can co-operate, act, live. But as long as one's mind is tethered, there is `your way' and `my way', `your opinion' and `my opinion', `your path' and `my path', and all the many divisions and subdivisions which come between man and man. BANARAS 3RD PUBLIC TALK 25TH DECEMBER 1955 I think it would be interesting and worth while if we could this evening go into the question of what makes the mind deteriorate. When we are young we are full of zeal, we have so many enthusiastic and revolutionary ideas, but generally we get caught in some kind of activity and slowly peter out. We see this happening all around us and in ourselves; and is it possible to stop this process of deterioration, which is surely one of our major problems? Whether socialism or capitalism, the left or the right, should organize the world's welfare, now that there is such immense production - I don't think that is the problem. I think the problem is much deeper, and it is this: can the mind be freed so that it remains free all the time, and is therefore not subject to deterioration? I don't know if you have thought about this problem, or whether you have observed how the vitality, the vigour, the zest of our own minds slowly ebbs away, and the mind gradually becomes merely an instrument of mechanical habits and beliefs, a whole complex of routine and repetition. If we have thought about it at all, I think this must be a problem to most of us. As one grows older, the weight of the past, the burden of things remembered, the hopes, the frustrations, the fears - all this seems to enclose the mind, and there is never anything new out of it, but only a repetition, a sense of anxiety, a constant escape from itself, and ultimately the desire to find some kind of release, some kind of peace, a God that will be completely satisfactory. Now, if we could go into this matter, I think it might be worth while. Can the mind be freed from this whole process of deterioration and go beyond itself, not mysteriously or by some miracle, not tomorrow or at some future date, but immediately, instantly? To find that out may be the way of meditation. So why is it that our minds deteriorate? Why is it that there is in us nothing original, that all we know is mere repetition, that there is never a constancy of creativity? These are facts, are they not? What causes this deterioration, and can the mind put a stop to it? We shall discuss this presently, and I hope you will take part in the discussion. To me it is evident that there must be deterioration as long as there is effort; and one observes that our whole life is based on effort - effort to learn, to acquire, to hold, to be something, or to push aside what we are and become something else. There is always this struggle to be or to become, either conscious or unconscious, either voluntary or compelled by unknown desires; and is not this struggle the major cause of the mind's deterioration? As I said, we are going to discuss all this after I have talked a little, so please don't just listen to words. We are trying to find out together why the wave of deterioration is always following us. I know there is the immediate problem of food, clothing, and shelter, but I think we must look at this problem from a different angle if we are to resolve it; and even those of us who have enough food, clothing, and shelter, have another problem which is much deeper. One sees that there is in the world both complete tyranny, and relative freedom; and if we were concerned only with the universal distribution of food and other products, then perhaps absolute tyranny might help. But in that process the creative development of man would be destroyed; and if we are concerned with the whole of man, and not merely with the social or economic problem, then I think a far more basic question must inevitably arise. Why is there this process of deterioration, this incapacity to discover the new, not in the scientific realm, but within ourselves? Why is it that we are not creative? If you observe what is happening, either here, in Europe, or America, I think you will see that most of us are imitating, we are complying with the past, with tradition, and as individuals we have never deeply, fundamentally discovered anything for ourselves. We live like machines, which brings a sense of unhappiness, does it not? I don't know if you have looked into it at all, but it seems to me that one of the major causes of this conformity is the desire to feel inwardly secure. To be psychologically secure there must be exclusiveness, and to be exclusive there must be effort, the effort to be something; and this may be one of the factors which is preventing the discovery of anything new on the part of each one of us. Can we discuss this? (Pause) All right, sirs, let us put the problem differently. One can see that meditation is necessary, because through meditation one discovers a great many things. Meditation opens the door to extraordinary experiences, both fanciful and real; and we are always inquiring how to meditate, are we not? Most of us read books which prescribe a system of meditation, or we look to some teacher to tell us how to meditate. Whereas, we are now trying to find out, not how to meditate, but what is meditation; and the very inquiry into what is meditation, is meditation. But our minds desire to know how to meditate, and therefore we invite deterioration. If thought can inquire very deeply and expose itself to itself, never correcting but always watching to find out, never condemning but always probing, then that state of mind may be called meditation; and such a mind, because it is free, can discover. For such a mind there is no deterioration, because there is no accumulation. But the mind that says, `Tell me how to be peaceful, tell me how to get there and I will try to follow it', is obviously imitative, without daring, and therefore it is inviting its own deterioration. Most of us are concerned with the `how', which is a means of security, safety. However noble, however exacting, however disciplinary the `how' may be, and whatever it may promise, it can only lead to conformity. A conforming mind, through its own efforts, enslaves itself to a method, and therefore it loses this extraordinary capacity for discovery; and without the discovery in yourself of something original, new, uncontaminated, though you may have the most perfect organization to produce and distribute the physical necessities, you will still be like a machine. So this is your problem, is it not? Can the mind, which is so mechanical, habit ridden, full of the past, free itself from the past and discover the new, call it God or what you will? Can we discuss this? (Pause) Sirs, is this problem new to you, or is it that you have not thought about these things in this way? Let me again put the problem differently. You are all well-versed in the Upanishads, the Gita, the Bible, you are familiar with the philosophy of Hinduism, of Christianity, of Communism, and so on. These philosophies, these religions have obviously not solved man's problem. If you say, `Man's problem is not solved because we have not strictly followed the injunctions of the Gita', the obvious answer is that any following of authority, however noble or tyrannical, makes the mind mechanical, unoriginal, like a gramophone record that repeats over and over again; and you cannot be happy in that state. Now, being aware of that fact, how would you set about discovering the real for yourself? Do you understand, sirs? God, truth, or whatever it is, must be totally new, something outside of time, outside of memory, must it not? It cannot be something remembered from the past, something of which you have been told, or which the mind has conjectured, created. And how will you find it? It can be found, surely, only when the mind is free from the past, when the mind ceases to formulate any image, any symbol. When the mind formulates images, symbols, is that not a factor of real deterioration? And that may be what is happening in India, as well as in the rest of the world. Am I explaining the problem? Or is it not a problem to you? Questioner: The mind cannot go beyond its own past experiences. Questioner: When the mind is conditioned... Krishnamurti Sir, this gentleman has asked a question. Questioner: Was it a question or a statement? Krishnamurti: He probably meant it as a question. Unfortunately, most of us are so occupied with the formulation of a question, or with our own way of looking at things, that we never really listen to each other. This gentleman has said that it is not possible for the mind to be free of the past. Is that not our problem as well as his? Questioner: If he wants to know how to be detached from the past, that is a question and not a statement.. Krishnamurti: Sir, please, we are not here verbally to show off or to prove who is right and who is wrong. We are really trying to find out why the mind never discovers anything new. We are not for the moment referring to specialists like the scientists, the physicists, and so on, but to ourselves as common human beings. Why is it that we never discover in ourselves anything new? Questioner: With regard to the question raised by that gentleman as to whether the mind can do away with the past, I would like to ask, what is meant by the past? Krishnamurti: The past is experience, memory, knowledge, the influence of tradition, the impression left by insult and praise, by the books you have read, by laughter and the sight of death. All that is the past, which is time. Questioner: You say that the mind is conditioned by the past. But is the mind so rigidly conditioned by the past that it cannot make further inquiry? Krishnamurti: Sir, what is the mind? Please do not answer this question theoretically or according to what you have read in books. Can you and I here this evening find out what the mind is? Questioner: The mind is the result of the past. Krishnamurti: Is your mind the result of the past? What do you mean by the past? Questioner: Whatever is in my mind at present is all from the past. Krishnamurti: Can you separate the past from the mind? Please, let us examine the mind, not a theoretical mind, but the mind of each one of us. Your mind is the result of many influences, both collective and individual, is it not? Our mind is the outcome of education, of food, of climate, of many centuries of tradition; it is made up of your beliefs, desires, memories, the things that you have read, and so on. That is the mind, is it not, sir? The conscious mind which operates every day, and the mind which is deeper, hidden, are both the result of the past. As far as one can see, the whole area of the mind is the result of the past. You may believe that there is God, or that there is no God, you may think there is a higher and a lower self, and so on; but all that is the outcome of your education, conditioning, which means that your mind is the result of the past, does it not? And that same mind is trying to find something new; it says, `I must know what is God, what is truth'. Is not that what you are doing, sirs and ladies? And I say it is impossible, it is a contradiction. Questioner: I think most people don't bother about God. We are concerned with life's problems. Krishnamurti: Which means that there is antagonism, bitterness, frustration, wanting power, position, prestige; because somebody else has what you want, you feel jealous, and so on. These are life's problems, are they not? Wanting to be loved, wanting more money, wanting to improve the village through this system or that system, having a belief or an ideal which is in contradiction with everyday existence, and trying to bridge the gap between the fact and the ideal - all this is life. Questioner: Life is something more also. If I am a teacher, I want to teach better. Krishnamurti: Which is the same thing. These are all life's problems, and in tackling any one of them you come to the main issue. You say that you want to teach better, to think better, to live a more integrated life, and so on. What do you mean by thinking better? Is it a process of acquiring more information? How do you find out what is better? Questioner: By thinking deeply. Krishnamurti: What does it mean to think deeply? And what do you mean by thinking? If you don't know what thinking is, you cannot think deeply. What is thinking? You please tell me what thinking is. Questioner: Thinking is a process of bringing in more and more associations. Krishnamurti: I am asking you what thinking is, and if you observe your own minds you will find out how you are reacting to that question - which is thinking, is it not? Are you following what I am saying? Questioner: This is too technical. Krishnamurti: Just watch yourself and you will see. I am asking you a question. What is thinking? Questioner: Whether you ask what is the mind, or what is thinking, it comes to the same thing. Krishnamurti: I want to find out what thinking is. Now, what is the process that is set going within you by this question? Questioner: When we begin to look at thinking, the mind stops. There is no answer. Questioner: Thinking is so spontaneous that we don't know what it is. Krishnamurti: I am asking you a question: what is thinking? Now, what does your mind do when this question is put to you? Don't you want to know how your mind operates? What happens when the mind is confronted with a question of this kind? For a moment the mind hesitates, because it has probably never thought about it before; then it looks into the chamber of memory and says, `Let me see, the Upanishads say this, the Bible says that, Bertrand Russell says something else. And what do I think?' So you are looking for an answer from the past, are you not? Questioner: We don't think of Bertrand Russell. Krishnamurti: Perhaps not; but this is the actual operation of your mind when a question is put to you. If a question is put to you with which your mind is familiar, there is an immediate answer. If someone asks you where you live, you respond instantly, because you are familiar with that, your association with it is constant. Whereas, if an unfamiliar question is put to you, your mind hesitates, and that hesitation indicates that you are looking for an answer, does it not? And where do you look for an answer? In your memory, obviously. So your thinking is the response of memory. No? Questioner: Does it mean that a person who has lost his memory cannot think? Krishnamurti: Complete forgetfulness is called amnesia, and a person in that state has to learn the whole business over again. Questioner: Is having memory a good thing or a bad thing? Krishnamurti: If you did not know where you live, what would you do? If you did not know the name of the street by which to go to your house, would that be good or bad? We are trying to find out, sir, what thinking is. For most of us, thinking is the response of memory, is it not? Because I know where I live, I respond quickly when asked; and when a more subtle question is put to me, I look in my memory to find an answer. But memory is the experience of centuries, so my response must inevitably be conditioned. Surely, this is fairly obvious. Sir, if you are a Hindu and I ask you whether there is such a thing as reincarnation, your instinctive response is to say that there is, and this response is based on the influence of your parents, your sacred books, and the general environment around you. You respond according to what you have been told; your thinking is the result of influence, therefore it is obviously conditioned. Now we are asking ourselves, can the mind dissociate itself from the past and find out what is true? Questioner: You seem to describe the mind as a collection of past experiences, and I think we all agree; but now you are asking if it is possible for the mind to dissociate itself from all that. What does it mean? Krishnamurti: Are you asking me, or are you asking yourself? Questioner: I am asking myself as well as you. Krishnamurti: That is better. You are asking yourself, not me. The mind is the result of time; and can such a mind ever discover anything new, which must be timeless? Do you understand my question, sir? I see that my mind is made up of the past, yet it is the only instrument that can observe and discover. Then what is it to do? There is no other instrument of discovery, yet that instrument is the result of the past - which is a fact, and no amount of discussion or denial will have any influence on that fact. And can such a mind ever discover anything new? Or will the known, which is the past, though I may be unconscious of it, always continue, so there can only be a continuity of the known in different forms? If the mind can never experience the unknown, whatever the unknown may be, then let us modify the known, let us embellish it, polish it up, accumulate more information, but keeping always within the area of the mind, of the known. Do you follow, sir? This assumption that the mind is in a helpless position, that it can never be out of its own area because it is the result of the known, may be the deteriorating factor. Do you follow what I mean? If you accept that, then obviously you must constantly polish the mind, put it in order, discipline it, stuff it with more information, and so on. Then you have no problem, because you are living within the area of the known. But the moment you begin to inquire into the unknown, you have a problem, have you not, sir? Questioner: You started by asking what is thinking. It seems to me that thinking is always in relation to something, there is no such thing as pure thinking. Krishnamurti: Thinking is the response to challenge, is it not? There is no isolated thinking. It is only when there is a challenge that you respond. Even when you think in your bedroom, where there is no outward challenge, thinking is still the response to a challenge within yourself. There is this constant relationship of challenge and response, and because you respond according to your beliefs, your upbringing, and all the rest of it, your response is always restricted, narrow, petty. Now, we are trying to find out where thinking ceases, and something new, which is not thinking, takes place. Questioner: You are asking where thinking ends and meditation begins. Krishnamurti: All right, sir. Where does thinking end? Wait a minute. I am inquiring into what is thinking and I say this very inquiry itself is meditation. It is not that there is first the ending of thinking, and then meditation begins. Please go with me, sirs and ladies, step by step. If I can find out what thinking is, then I will never ask how to meditate, because in the very process of finding out what thinking is, there is meditation. But this means that I must give complete attention to the problem, and not merely concentrate on it, which is a form of distraction. I don't know if I am explaining myself. In trying to find out what thinking is, I must give complete attention, in which there can be no effort, no friction; because in effort, friction, there is distraction. If I am really intent on finding out what thinking is, that very question brings an attention in which there is no deviation, no conflict, no feeling that I must pay attention. So, what is thinking? Thinking, I see, is the response of memory, at whatever level, conscious or unconscious; it is always the reaction of that area of the mind which is the known, the past. The mind sees this as a fact. Then the mind asks itself if all thinking is merely verbal, symbolic, a reaction of the past; or is there thinking without words, without the past? Now, is it possible to find out if there is any activity of the mind which is not contaminated by the past? Do you follow, sirs? I am inquiring, I am not assuming anything. The mind sees that it is the result of the past, and it is asking itself whether it is possible to be free of the past. If the mind answers one way or the other, if it says it is possible, or is not possible, then that assumption is the result of the past, is it not? Please go step by step with me, and you will see. The mind is aware that it is the result of the past; it is asking if it can free itself from the past; and it sees that any assumption that it can, or cannot, is the outcome of the past. So what is the state of the mind which has no association, which does not assume anything? Questioner: It is no longer the mind, the limited mind that we know. Krishnamurti: We have not come to that yet. I want to go slowly. Questioner: The question is, who is it that thinks? Krishnamurti: We know who thinks, sir. The mind has divided itself as the thinker and the thought, but it is still the mind, obviously. The whole process of the separation of the thinker from the thought is still within that area of the mind, which is the result of time, of the past; and the mind is now asking itself whether it can be free of the past. Questioner: Sir, if we who are listening to you doubt the truth of what you are saying, our old conditioning will continue. On the other hand, if we have faith in what you say, then our minds will again be conditioned by that. Krishnamurti: I am not asking you to have faith. I am just watching the operation of my own mind, and I hope you are doing the same thing. We are watching the operation of the mind and discovering its processes. That is all we are doing, which does not mean that you should or should not have faith. We are trying to find out how our minds operate, which is meditation. Questioner: How does a scientist discover a new thing? Krishnamurti: If you and I were scientists we could discuss that question; but we are not scientists, we are ordinary people, and we are trying to find out if the mind can ever discover something new. What is the process of it, sir? We shall have to stop. May I just go into it a little bit? I am watching the operation of my mind. That is all. There is challenge and response. The response is invariably according to the culture, the values, the tradition in which the mind has been brought up, and which for the moment we shall call its conditioning. The mind realizes this and is asking itself: is all response the outcome of this conditioning, or is it possible for there to be a response beyond it? I don't say it is, or is not possible. The mind is just asking itself. Any assumption on the part of the mind that it is possible or impossible, is still a response of the background. That is clear, is it not? So the mind can only say, `I don't know'. That is the only right answer to this question as to whether the mind can free itself from the past. Now, when you say, `I don't know', at what level, at what depth do you say it? Is it merely a verbal statement, or is it the totality of your being which says, `I don't know'? If your whole being genuinely says, `I don't know', it means that you are no longer referring to memory to find an answer. Is not the mind then free from the past? And is not this whole process of inquiry, meditation? Meditation is not a process of learning how to meditate; it is the very inquiry into what is meditation. To inquire into what is meditation, the mind must free itself from what it has learnt about meditation; and the freeing of the mind from what it has learnt, is the beginning of meditation. MADRAS 1ST PUBLIC TALK 11TH JANUARY 1956 It must be fairly obvious to each one of us when we look at the world, and especially at the conditions in this country, that there must be some kind of fundamental revolution. I am using that word to convey, not a superficial, patchwork reformation, nor a revolution instigated as a calculated risk according to a particular pattern of thought, but the revolution that can come about only at the highest level, when we begin to understand the whole significance of the mind. Without understanding this fundamental issue, it seems to me that any reformation at any level, however beneficial temporarily, is bound to lead to further misery and chaos. I think this point must be very clearly understood if there is to be any kind of relationship between the speaker and yourselves; because most of us are concerned with some kind of social reformation. There is an enormous amount of poverty, ignorance, fear, superstition, idolatry; there is the vain repetition of words which is called prayer, and at the same time a vast accumulation of scientific knowledge, as well as the so-called knowledge gathered from sacred books. One has not to go to many countries to see all this; it can be observed as one walks along the streets here, or in Europe, or America. The physical necessities may be plentiful in America, where materialism is rampant and one can buy anything; but when one comes to this country, one sees this ruthless poverty. One sees also the class struggle - and I am not using that term `class struggle' in the communistic sense, but merely to convey the observation of a fact without interpreting it in any way. One sees the division of religions, the Christian, the Hindu, the Moslem, the Buddhist, with their various subdivisions, all clamouring to convert, or to show a different way, a different path. The machine has made possible miracles of production, especially in America; but here in India everything is limited, short. In this country, though we mouth the word `God', though we pray, perform rituals, and all the rest of it, we are just as materialistic as the West, only we have made poverty into a virtue, an inevitable necessity, and tolerate it. Seeing this extraordinarily complex pattern of wealth and poverty, of sovereign governments, of armies and the latest instruments of mass destruction, one asks oneself what is going to come out of all this chaos, and where it is all going to lead. What is the answer? If one is at all serious, I think one must have asked oneself this question. How are we, as individuals and as groups, to tackle this problem? Being confused, most of us turn to some kind of pattern, religious or social, we look to some leader to guide us out of this chaos, or we insist on returning to the ancient traditions. We say, `Let us go back to what the rishis have taught us, which is all in the Upanishads, in the Gita, let us have more prayers, more rituals, more gurus, more masters'. This is actually what is happening, is it not? There is in the world both extraordinary tyranny and relative freedom. Now, looking at this whole chaotic picture - not philosophically, not merely as an observer watching the events go by, but as one whose sympathies are stirred and who has a germ of compassion, which I am sure most of us have - , how do you respond to it all? What is your responsibility to society? Or are you merely caught in the wheels of society, following the traditional pattern set by a particular culture, western or eastern, and are therefore blind to the whole issue? And if you do open your eyes, are you merely concerned with social reform, political action, economic adjustment? Does the solution to this enormously complex problem lie anywhere there, or does it lie in a totally different direction? Is the problem merely economic and social? Or is there chaos and the constant threat of war because most of us are not concerned at all with the deeper issues of life, with the total development of man? Is it our education that is at fault? Superficially we are educated to have certain kinds of technique, which brings its own culture, and we seem to be satisfied with that. Now, seeing this state of things - of which I am sure you are very much aware, unless you are insensitive, or are trying to block it off - , what is your answer? Please do not answer theoretically, according to the communist, the capitalist, the Hindu, or some other pattern, which is merely an imposition and therefore not true, but instead, strip the mind of all its immediate reactions, the so-called educated reactions, and find out what is your reaction as individuals. How would you solve this problem? If you ask the communist this question, he has a very definite answer, and so has the Catholic, or the orthodox Hindu, or Moslem; but their answers are obviously conditioned. They have been educated to think along certain lines, narrow or wide, by a society or culture which is not at all concerned with the total development of the mind; and because they are responding from their conditioned thinking, their answers are inevitably in contradiction, and must therefore always create enmity, which I think is again fairly obvious. If you are a Hindu, a Christian, or what you will, your response is bound to be according to your conditioned background, the culture in which you have been brought up. The problem is beyond all cultures, beyond any particular pattern, yet we are seeking an answer in terms of a particular pattern, and hence there is mounting confusion, greater misery. So unless there is a fundamental breaking away from all conditioning, a total cleavage, we shall obviously create more chaos, however well-intentioned or so-called religious we may be. It seems to me that the problem lies at a different level altogether, and in understanding it, I think we shall bring about an action entirely different from that of the socialistic, the capitalistic, or the communistic pattern. To me, the problem is to understand the ways of the mind; because, unless one is able to observe and understand the process of thought in oneself, there is no freedom, and hence one cannot go very far. With most of us, the mind is not free, it is consciously or unconsciously tethered to some form of knowledge, to innumerable beliefs, experiences, dogmas; and how can such a mind be capable of discovery, of searching out something new? To every challenge there must obviously be a new response, because today the problem is entirely different from what it was yesterday. Any problem is always new, it is undergoing transformation all the time. Each challenge demands a new response, and there can be no new response if the mind is not free. So freedom is at the beginning, not just at the end. Revolution must begin, surely, not at the social, cultural, or economic level, but at the highest level; and the discovery of the highest level is the problem - the discovery of it, not the acceptance of what is said to be the highest level. I don't know if I am explaining myself clearly on this point. One can be told what is the highest level by some guru, some clever individual, and one can repeat what one has heard, but that process is not discovery, it is merely the acceptance of authority; and most of us accept authority because we are lazy. It has all been thought out, and we merely repeat it like a gramophone record. Now, I see the necessity of discovery, because it is obvious that we have to create a totally different kind of culture, a culture not based on authority, but on the discovery by each individual of what is true; and that discovery demands complete freedom. If a mind is held, however long its tether, it can only function within a fixed radius, and therefore it is not free. So what is important is to discover the highest level at which revolution can take place, and that demands great clarity of thought, it demands a good mind - not a phoney mind which is repetitive, but a mind that is capable of hard thinking, of reasoning to the end, clearly, logically, sanely. One must have such a mind, and only then is it possible to go beyond. So revolution, it seems to me, can take place only at the highest level, which must be discovered; and you can discover it only through self-knowledge, not through the knowledge gathered from your ancient books, or from the books of modern analysts. You must discover it in relationship, discover it, and not merely repeat something that you have read or heard. Then you will find that the mind becomes extraordinarily clear. After all, the mind is the only instrument we have. If that mind is clogged, petty, fearful, as most of our minds are, its belief in God, its worship, its search for truth, has no meaning at all. It is only the mind that is capable of clear perception, and therefore of being very quiet, that can discover whether there is truth or not; and it is only such a mind that can bring about revolution at the highest level. Only the religious mind is truly revolutionary; and the religious mind is not the mind that repeats, that goes to church, or to the temple, that does puja every morning, that follows some kind of guru, or worships an idol. Such a mind is not religious, it is really a silly, limited mind; therefore it can never freely respond to challenge. This self-knowledge is not to be learnt from another. I cannot tell you what it is. But one can see how the mind operates, not just the mind that is active every day, but the totality of the mind, the mind that is conscious as well as hidden. All the many layers of the mind have to be perceived, investigated - which does not mean introspection. Self-analysis does not reveal the totality of the mind, because there is always the division between the analyzer and the analyzed. But if you can observe the operation of your own mind without any sense of judgment, evaluation, without condemnation or comparison-just observe it as you would observe a star, dispassionately, quietly, without any sense of anxiety - , then you will see that self-knowledge is not a matter of time, that it is not a process of delving into the unconscious to remove all the motives, or to understand the various impulses and compulsions. What creates time is comparison, surely; and because our minds are the result of time, they are always thinking in terms of the `more', which we call progress. So, being the result of time, the mind is always thinking in terms of growth, of achievement; and can the mind free itself from the `more', which is really to dissociate itself completely from society? Society insists on the `more'. After all, our culture is based on envy and acquisitiveness, is it not? Our acquisitiveness is not only in material things, but also in the realm of so-called spirituality, where we want to have more virtue, to be nearer the master, the guru. So the whole structure of our thinking is based on the `more', and when one completely understands the demand for the `more', with all its results, there is surely a complete dissociation from society; and only the individual who is completely dissociated from society can act upon society. The man who puts on a loincloth, or a sanyasi's robe, who, merely becomes a monk, is not disassociated from society; he is still part of society, only his demand for the `more' is at another level. He is still conditioned by, and therefore caught within, the limits of a particular culture. I think this is the real issue, and not how to produce more things and distribute what is produced. They now have the machines and the techniques to produce all that is required by man, and soon there will probably be an equitable distribution of the physical necessities, and a cessation of the class struggle; but the basic problem will still remain. The basic problem is that man is not creative, he has not discovered for himself this extraordinary source of creativity which is not an invention of the mind; and it is only when one discovers this timeless creativity that there is bliss. Question: I have come here to learn and to be instructed. Can you teach me? Krishnamurti: It is really quite an interesting question, if we can go into it. What do we mean by learning? We learn a technique, we learn to be efficient in earning a livelihood, or in performing some physical or mental task. We learn to calculate, to read, to speak a language, to build a bridge, and so on. Learning is finding out how to do things, and developing the capacity to do them. Apart from that, is there any other kind of learning? Please do think this out with me. When we talk about learning, we mean accumulation, do we not? And when there is any form of accumulation, can the mind learn? Learning is a necessity only in order to have capacity. I could not communicate if I did not speak a language; and to speak a language I have to learn it, I have to store up in my mind the words and the meaning of those words, which is the cultivation of memory. Similarly, one learns how to build a road, to work a machine, to drive a motorcar, and so on. Now, the questioner does not mean that; he is not here to find out how to drive a motorcar, or anything of that sort. He wants to be instructed, to learn how to discover that which may be called truth or God, does he not? When you go to a guru, to a religious teacher, in order to learn, what is it you are learning? He can only teach you a system, a pattern of what to think. And that is what you want from me. You want to learn a new pattern of behaviour, conduct, or a new way of living, which is again the cultivation of memory in another form; and if you observe this process very clearly and closely, you will see that it actually prevents you from learning. It is really very simple. You are all Hindus, or whatever it is you are, and when something new is put before you, what happens? Either you translate the new in terms of the old, and therefore it is no longer the new, or you reject it - and that is what is actually happening. So a mind that is accumulating, thinking in patterns, a mind that is full of so-called knowledge, that is out to learn a new way of thought or behaviour - surely, such a mind can never learn. And what is there to learn? Please follow this. What is there to learn? Are you going to learn about reincarnation, about God, about what truth is? When you say, `Instruct me, teach me, I am here to learn', what does it all mean? Is it possible to teach? Teach what? How to be aware? You know very well how to be aware. When you are interested, you are aware completely. When you want to make money as a lawyer, you are jolly well aware at the time. When you want to do something with deep, vital interest, your complete attention is there. Attention is not something to be taught. You can be taught how to concentrate, but attention is not concentration. You see, the mind is always thinking in patterns: how to meditate, how to build a bridge, how to play cards, how to read faster, how to drive a motorcar, how to walk properly, or to have the right kind of diet. Similarly, you want to learn what is the way to God, to truth, you want somebody to show you the path which leads to that extraordinary state. Obviously, there is no path to that state, because that state is not static, and any man who says there is a path to it, is deceiving you. A path can exist only to that which is static, dead. There are not many paths to truth, nor is there only one path; there are no paths at all, and that is the beauty of it. But the mind rejects this fact because it wants to be secure, and it thinks of truth as the ultimate security; so it seeks a path by which to arrive at that security. Now, if you see this whole process, then what is there to learn? And can you be free through learning? Please think it out with me, don't accept or reject it. This is your problem. Can a mind that is learning, accumulating storing up, ever be free? And if the mind is never free, how can it find out, discover? And surely it is essential to discover; because to discover, to find out, is the creative potential in man. So the mind must be free of all authority - the poisonous authority of so-called religion and the religious leaders - , for only then is it capable of finding out what is truth, what is God, what is bliss. Sirs, if you are really paying attention to what is being said, and are not comparing it with what you have learnt, or worrying about how it will affect your commitments, your vested interests, your position in society, and all the rest of the silly nonsense, then you will see that there is freedom and discovery immediately. Learning will not bring truth nearer. It is only the mind that is on a journey of everlasting discovery, that is no longer accumulating, that is dead to everything it accumulated yesterday and is therefore fresh, innocent, free - it is only such a mind that can find out what is true and bring about a revolution in this world. It is only such a mind that is capable of love and compassion - not the mind that is practising love and compassion, cultivating virtue according to a pattern, which is all self-concern. I am afraid it is too late to answer another question. If we understand what it is to pay attention, then perhaps this deep revolution will take place in spite of us. If each one of us can be purely attentive without wanting to bring about a result, or to transform ourselves, then we shall see that the mind is not a thing of time. Time comes into being only when there is comparison; and the mind that is comparing is not attentive. Have you ever noticed how difficult it is to watch something, just to observe a quality, a person, an idea, a felling, without any sense of denying, condemning, or justifying it? When the mind is capable of so observing, you will find that reaction has no meaning at all, and in that state of complete attention, the whole content of consciousness can be wiped away. After all, the totality of our consciousness is the result of many influences: the influence of climate, of diet, of education, of race and religion, of what we read, of society, and the influence of our own intentions and desires. I hope you are listening to me with attention, not merely with memory, and are actually experiencing the fact that your consciousness is the result of many influences. These influences are man-made; and can the consciousness which is conditioned by them find something beyond itself, however much it may try? Obviously it cannot. It can only project its own state in a different form. So consciousness is conditioned, and anything that springs from that consciousness can never be free; and yet it is only the free mind that can discover. Now, when you are aware that the process of thinking at any level, however deep or shallow, is conditioned, you realize that thinking is not the liberating factor; but you must think very clearly to see the limitation of thinking. Any thought springing from the conditioned mind is still conditioned. When the conditioned mind thinks about God, its God is itself. If the mind is totally aware of this and gives complete attention to it, then you will see there is freedom. Then the mind is no longer the plaything of society, it is no longer put together by man, and only then is it capable of experiencing something that is beyond itself. MADRAS 2ND PUBLIC TALK 15TH JANUARY 1956 If one observes the events of every day, I think it is fairly apparent that, in the very attempt to solve the many problems with which we are beset, we only produce more problems; and it seams to me that as long as we do not understand the processes of thought, and are therefore unable to cleanse the mind, our problems will inevitably soar and multiply. Though each one may express it differently, every intelligent person is aware that the mind must be cleansed; and putting it very simply the implication is that, until the instrument with which man acts, which is the mind, is clear, dispassionate, free of the self with its innumerable prejudices and fears, both conscious and unconscious - until the mind is purged of all that, our problems will increase. We all know this, and every religion that is worth its salt asserts it in different ways; yet why is it that we never seem able to cleanse our minds? Is it that there are not enough systems, or that the true system has yet to be invented and applied? Or is it that no method or system can ever bring about this purification? Surely, all systems and methods breed tradition, which brings mediocrity of mind; and a mediocre mind, facing a great problem, will inevitably translate that problem in terms of its own conditioning. That is, to tackle any main issue in human affairs we see the necessity of a mind that is clear, purged of all its prejudices, and in order to cleanse the mind we say we must have a system, a method, a practice; but if one is at all alert one sees that in the very practising of a system the mind gets caught in the system, and therefore it is not free, it is not purged, it is not cleansed. Being caught in a system, the mind translates or responds to the challenge according to that conditioning. This is again fairly obvious if you go into it. We have many problems at all levels of our existence, and to respond to these problems the mind must be fresh, eager, alert. In order to produce that clear, fresh, innocent mind, we say the practice of a system is necessary; but we see that, that in the very practice of a system, the mind gets warped, limited, twisted. So it is very clear that systems do not free the mind, and I think this fact must be thoroughly understood before we can go further into what I want to discuss this evening. Most of us think that a method, a system, a practice, is going to free the mind, or help the mind to think clearly. But does a system of any kind help the mind to think very clearly, without bias, without the centre of the `me', the self? Does not the practice of a system encourage the self? Though the system is supposed to help you to get rid of the self, the `me', the ego, or whatever term one may use for that self-centred activity of the mind, does not the very practice of a system accentuate self-centredness, only along a different line? So the mind can never be made free by a system. Yet most minds are caught in a system, which is the way of tradition, and it invariably breeds mediocrity. That is what has happened to almost all of us, is it not? Functioning in habits, in tradition, ancient or modern, which we call knowledge, the mind is confronted with an immense problem, a problem which is always changing. Whether it is personal or impersonal, collective or individual, no problem is static. But the mind is static, because it is caught in a groove of tradition, of habits, it is addicted to a certain way of thinking; so there is always a contradiction between the static condition of the mind, and the problem which is constantly changing, moving. Such a mind is incapable of meeting and resolving the problem - which I think is fairly obvious. After all, you are meeting problems as a Hindu, that is, with the tradition of Hindu culture, just as the Catholic or the communist meets any issue according to his particular conditioning. Yet most of us agree that the mind must be cleansed, purified, in order to meet life, to find God, truth, or what you will. Now, desiring to meet that challenge, to discover that new thing, we say the mind must be purified through the practice of a system; and yet when we look at it very closely, we see that a system cripples the mind, it does not set the mind free. So what is one to do? This is a problem we are all facing, is it not? The challenge, which is the world as it is today, is totally new, with new demands, and we cannot possibly respond to the new with the deteriorating traditions, ideas, memories and knowledge of the old. One sees that in the very practice of a method, the mind is crippled, that in the very process of cultivating virtue, the self becomes strengthened. There must be virtue, because virtue brings order; yet virtue that is cultivated, practised day after day, ceases to be virtue. Seeing this, what is the mind to do? One can see very well that to meet the challenge, to meet this extraordinary world with its multiplying sorrows, with its vast contradictions and frustrations, the mind must be made new, fresh, pure, innocent; and how is this state of the mind to be brought about? Can time do it? That is, by pursuing the ideal of purity, innocence, clarity, can the mind which is dull, stupid, mediocre, achieve that other state through time? Can what is be transformed into what should be through the pursuit of the ideal? When the mind says, `I am here, and it will take time to reach the ideal state, which is over there', what has the mind done? It has invented the ideal apart from the fact, and then time is necessary to bridge the distance between them - at least that is what we say. So we have convenient theories concerning the inevitability of time: evolution, development through growth, and so on. But if you look very closely into the notion that time is a means of achieving the ideal, you will find that it is born of an extremely lazy and subtle attitude of postponement. From childhood we are raised on this concept of the ideal, the example, the ultimate perfection, for the achievement of which we say time is necessary. But will time dissolve the self-centred activity of the `me', of the self, which is the cause of all mischief, of all misery? Time implies practice, progress towards something which should be; but that something is the projection of a mind caught in its own misery, in its own conditioning. So the ideal, the what should be, is the outcome of a conditioned mind, it is the projection of a mind which is in sorrow, which is ignorant, which is full of self-centred activity; therefore the ideal contains the seed of the present; and if you look into it very carefully, consider it deeply, you will see that time does not bring about the purgation of the self. Then what is the mind to do? Do you understand? No system will solve this problem. Even if you were to practise a system for a thousand years, the self would remain, because the very practice of a system strengthens the self. Nor will the ideal ever solve this problem, because the ideal demands time in which to progress from what is which is the fact, to what should be; and this pursuit of what should be interferes with the understanding of what is. The what is can be understood only when the mind is completely free from the ideal, from the idea of progress through time. Yet these are the only two means you have, are they not? You use the ideal as a lever to get rid of what is, or you practise a system, which inevitably breeds mediocrity; and the mediocre mind cannot possibly respond to a challenge that is extraordinarily dynamic, that demands your complete attention. So what is the mind to do? I don't know if you have thought of this matter at all. We have problems at every level of our existence, economic, social, emotional, intellectual, and we have always approached these problems with a traditional or idealistic point of view. We meet facts with theories; and one can see very well that a mind which is caught in formulations, in conclusions, which spins a theory about a fact, cannot possibly understand the fact. There is always conflict between the fact and the theory; and our meditation, our sacrifice, our practice, which is the cultivation of virtue, can never solve the problem, because to cultivate virtue is to strengthen the `me'. The `me' becomes respectable, that is all. Seeing this, what is the mind to do? Perhaps this evening we should experiment with something. So far you have followed what I have said, which is fairly clear, and I don't think you will disagree. There is nothing with which to agree or disagree, because these are facts. If you disagree, you are merely denying a fact; and however much you may deny a fact, the fact exists. The difficulty is that most of us are caught in tradition -tradition as inherited or acquired knowledge, experience - and with such a mind we are approaching a fact, denying or translating it according to our conditioning. That is what is actually taking place within each one of us, at different levels and with different degrees of intensity. As I was saying, can we try something this evening, which is to listen, not with memory, not with tradition, not with the intention of getting something through listening, but with complete attention? If one is capable of listening in that way, there is immediate transformation - whether for a long or a short time, is unimportant. The duration is unimportant, but what is important is the capacity to listen with complete attention. If the mind can remove all the traditions, the opinions, the evaluations, the comparisons, and just listen to what is being said, out of that complete attention you will find that you will be able to tackle any problem; because in that attention there is no problem. The problem is created by inattention. Attention is the good, but the good cannot be cultivated by the mind - the mind that is conditioned by tradition, by environment, by every kind of influence. What matters is to have the capacity of attention without interpretation or evaluation; but you cannot possibly practise this attention. If you do, you reduce it again to mediocrity, it becomes mere tradition. But if the mind can face the problem with complete attention, then you will find that the problem has ceased, because then the mind is a totally different entity, it is no longer the product of time; and such a mind is capable of receiving that which is eternal. The difficulty with most of us is that we never give our complete attention to anything, even when we are interested. When we are interested in something, it absorbs us, as the toy absorbs the child; and absorption is not attention. But if you can listen completely without interpretation, without comparison, without evaluation, which is to give your whole attention, then all tradition is transcended and the mind is extraordinarily clear, innocent, pure; and such a mind is capable of resolving the problems of life. Question: Gandhiji had recourse to fasting as a means of changing the hearts of others. His example is being followed by some leaders in India who look upon fasting as a means of purifying themselves and also the society around them. Can self-invited suffering be purifying, and is there vicarious purification? Krishnamurti: Without accepting or denying anything, let us investigate the matter. It is said that suffering is necessary as a means of purifying the mind. Whole philosophies and religions are built on this idea, that someone suffers for you and purifies you. Can that be done? And what do we mean by suffering? There is the suffering caused by starvation, decay, disease, physical deterioration. A society based on acquisitiveness and envy must inevitably create physical suffering: those who have, and those who have not. That is all very clear. Then there is psychological suffering. If I love you, and you don't love me, I suffer. If I am ambitious, if I want to fulfil myself through having a prominent position, and something happens which prevents me, I am frustrated and I suffer. We say suffering is an inevitable process, and we accept it; we never question it, we never ask if it is necessary to suffer psychologically. And can I suffer for the good of another? Can I change society through my example? When there is an example, what happens? Authority is established; the following of authority breeds fear; and fear breeds the mediocrity of a shallow mind. We are brought up on this idea that the example, the hero, the saint, the leader, the guru, is necessary; so we become followers without any initiative, gramophone records repeating the same old pattern. When we merely follow, we lose all sense of individuality, the fullness of understanding as individuals, and obviously that does not solve our problems. Besides, if you must fast, why must you fast in public? Why this ballyhoo, this noise, this publicity, this beating of the drum? Because you want to impress people, and people are easily impressed. And then what? Have they changed? Is your intention in fasting to impress people, or to discover your own state of mind? If you are trying to impress people, then it has very little meaning, it is merely political, and therein lies exploitation. But if your intention is to bring about self-purification and understanding, then is fasting necessary? What is necessary is an acuteness, a clarity of mind, not at certain periods of the year, but at every moment, which is to be fully aware in your relationships; and it is this awareness that reveals to you what you are. A heavy stomach obviously makes a dull mind; but a dull mind is also a mind which practices a system in order to be clear. The mind is obviously made dull through the practice of virtue; and yet we think suffering, fasting, examples, are necessary to bring a change in society. Surely, example breeds authority, however noble, stupid, or historical it may be; and when there is the tyranny of example, the mind is merely conforming to a pattern. The pattern may be wide or narrow, but it is still a pattern, a frame, and the mind that follows a pattern is inevitably very shallow. Conformity is obviously a cause. Through conformity can the mind be free? Must the mind be made slavish in order to be free, or must freedom exist from the very beginning? Freedom is not a thing to be gained as a reward at the end of life, it is not the goal of life, because a mind that is incapable of being free now can never discover what is true. Society is not changed by example. Society may reform itself, it may bring about certain changes through political or economic revolution, but only the religious man can create a fundamental transformation in society; and the religious man is not he who practices starvation as an example to impress society. The religious man is not concerned with society at all, because society is based on acquisitiveness, envy, greed, ambition, fear. That is, mere reformation of the pattern of society only alters the surface, it brings about a more respectable form of ambition. Whereas, the truly religious man is totally outside of society, because he is not ambitious, he has no envy, he is not following any ritual, dogma or belief; and it is only such a man who can fundamentally transform society, not the reformer. The man who sets out to be an example merely breeds conflict, strengthens fear, and brings about various forms of tyranny. It is very strange how we worship examples, idols. We don't want that which is pure, true in itself; we want interpreters, examples, masters, gurus, as a medium through which to attain something - which is all sheer nonsense, and is used to exploit people. If each one of us could think clearly from the very beginning, or re-educate ourselves to think clearly, then all these examples, masters, gurus, systems, would be absolutely unnecessary, which they are anyhow. You see, the world is unfortunately too much for most of us; our circumstances are too heavy, our families, our country, our leaders, our jobs, pin us down, hold us on the wheel, and we hope vaguely somehow to find happiness. But this happiness does not come vaguely, it does not come if you are pinned down by society, if you are a slave to environment. It comes only when there is freedom of the mind - which is not freedom of thought. Thought is never free; but the mind can be free, and that freedom comes, not through going into the many layers of the unconscious, analyzing the memory of incidents and experiences, but only when there is complete attention. In the process of self-analysis there must always be the analyzer; but the analyzer is part of the analyzed, as the thinker is part of the thought, and if you don't understand the central issue, you will only increase the problems and bring about further misery. The mind cannot be made clear, pure, innocent, through any method, through any discipline, through the practice of any virtue. Virtue is essential, but a cultivated virtue is not virtue. Suffering obviously has to be understood. As long as there is the self, the `me', the ego, there must be suffering. Man avoids that suffering, but in the very avoidance of it he strengthens the ego, and all his social activities, his reforms, only create further mischief, further sorrow. Again, this is obvious if you are at all thoughtful. So, there must be an action totally dissociated from society, a way of thinking that is not contaminated by society, and only then is there a possibility of real revolution - which is not this superficial revolution at merely one level, economic, social, or any other. A total revolution must take place in man himself, and it is only such a mind that can resolve the mounting problems of society. Now, you have listened to all this, either agreeing or disagreeing; but as I said, there is nothing with which to agree or disagree. These are facts, and knowing these facts, what are you going to do? Surely, that is very important to find out. Will you return to the society of which you are a prisoner, or have you listened with complete attention? If you listen with complete attention, then that very attention brings its own action, you don't have to do anything. It is like love. Love, and it will act; but without love, do what you will - practise, discipline, reform - , the heart can never be clear. And that is what is happening in the world. We have examples, disciplines, marvellous techniques, yet our hearts are empty because they are filled with the things of the mind; and when our hearts are empty, our solutions to the many problems are also empty. Only the mind that is capable of complete attention knows how to love, because that attention is the absence of the self. MADRAS 3RD PUBLIC TALK 18TH JANUARY 1956 One of our great problems, I should think, is what to do, what kind of action to take in this civilization which is so confused, so contradictory, so demanding. Most of us are educated for one thing, and really want to do something else. The governments want efficient soldiers and bureaucrats, and parents desire that their children should fit into society and earn a livelihood, and that is more or less the pattern followed throughout the world. The individual's occupation is very largely determined by his education and the demands of the society about him. If you don't mind, I am going to discuss a rather complicated problem this evening, and if you will be good enough to pay a little attention I think you will find that an action comes into being which is not cultivated or shaped by a particular culture; and that action may be the solution to the complicated problem of our existence. Naturally we are all concerned with action, with what to do, and the `what to do' is generally dictated by the world about us. That is, we know that we have to earn a livelihood in some capacity, either as an engineer, a scientist, a lawyer, a clerk, or what you will; and our superficial culture, our education, is restricted to that. Our minds are occupied most of the day with how to earn a livelihood, how to conform to the pattern of a particular society. Our so-called education is limited to the cultivation of skills and the memorizing of a series of facts which will help us to pass some examination and get a particular job; so our action settles at that level, it is shaped according to the necessities of a particular society, a society that is preparing for war. Industrialization demands more scientists, more physicists, more engineers, so this particular layer of the mind is cultivated; and that is what society is chiefly concerned with. Actually, if you examine it, that is what most of us are concerned with: to adapt ourselves to the demands of society. So there is a contradiction in our life between the so-called educated layer of the mind, and the deep, unconscious occupation, a contradiction of which very few of us are aware; and if we are aware of this contradiction, we are merely seeking some kind of satisfaction, some kind of easy solution for the misery of having to earn a livelihood in a particular profession while inwardly wanting to be or to do something else. This is what is actually happening in our life, whether we are aware of it or not. Any action born of the superficial, educated layer of the mind is obviously an incomplete action, and such a partial action is always in contradiction with the total action of man. I think this is fairly clear. That is, one is educated as a clerk, as a lawyer, or for some other profession, and society is concerned only with that. The government and industry demand scientists, physicists, engineers, to prepare for war, to increase production, and so on. So one is educated for a profession, but the totality of one's being is undiscovered, unrevealed, and hence man is always in conflict within himself. I think this is very clear if we observe the social and political activities, and the religious pursuits of man. Most of us do something in daily life which is contradictory to everything that we feel we really want to do. We have responsibilities which bind us and from which we want to escape, and the escape takes the form of speculation, theories about God, religious rites, and so on. There are innumerable forms of escape, including drink, but none of them resolve this inner conflict. So what is one to do? I do not know if you have ever put that question to yourself. Any action born of this inner contradiction is bound to create more mischief and misery. That is what the politicians are doing in the world. However wise a politician may be, he must inevitably create mischief unless he understands the total occupation of the mind, and brings about an action out of the comprehension of that totality. And this is what I want to discuss: whether an action can come into being which is not the action of mere influence and motive. Please follow this a little bit. Action born of influence is restricted. Our minds are the result of innumerable and contradictory influences, and any action born of that contradictory state must also be contradictory; and a culture, a society which is based on this contradiction, must create endless conflict and misery. This again is fairly obvious, it is an historical fact whether you like it or not. We can see that while the mind is occupied on the surface with daily living, below that there are innumerable motives of satisfaction, of greed, of envy, the compulsions of passion, fear, and so on, with which the mind is also occupied, though one may not be conscious of it. And can the mind go still below that? To put it differently, with what is the mind occupied? Please, not my mind, but your mind. Do you know what your mind is occupied with? It is obviously occupied during the day, when you are busy at the office, with the routine of your work. Below that superficial occupation of the mind there is another kind of occupation going on, which may be self-protection, security, ambition, and so on, and which is generally in contradiction with the other occupation. To make this talk worth while and significant, may I suggest that you listen to observe and discover how your own mind is occupied. I want to go into the problem of occupation, because I feel if we can understand this whole question of the mind's occupation, out of that understanding an action will come which is true action, an action which is not born of will, of discipline, and is therefore not contradictory. Am I making myself clear? That is, unless you understand the totality of your occupation, there cannot be an integrated action. Your mind is superficially occupied during the day with the pursuit of your job and similar activities, but it is also occupied at other levels, in other directions. So there is a contradiction between these two layers of the mind, and we try to overcome the contradiction through discipline, through conformity, through various forms of adjustment based on fear; therefore action always remains contradictory, which is what is happening with all of us. What to do is not the problem at all, because when you ask what to do, the answer is inevitably according to the layers of your occupation, and will only create further contradiction. Now, what is your mind occupied with? Please follow this. Do you know what your mind is occupied with every day? You know very well that it is occupied with daily activities. Below that, what else is it occupied with? Are you aware of that deeper occupation? If you are, then you will see that it is in contradiction with the daily pursuits; and either the mind manages somehow to conform, to adjust itself to the daily pursuits, or the contradiction is so total that there is a perpetual conflict going on, which leads to all kinds of diseases. Now, sirs, from where should action take place? I want to do things in the world, I have to earn a livelihood, and I must work hard; or I want to paint, to write, to think, or be a religious entity. I want to work in some way, and there must be action. From what source, from what centre, should this action spring? That is the problem. I see that action springing from any layer of occupation is bound to create contradiction, misery. There is no difference between the action of a housewife, the action of a lawyer, and the action of the mind which is pursuing God. Socially they may be different, but in reality there is no difference, because the housewife, the lawyer, and the man who pursues God, are all occupied. One occupation may be socially better than another, but fundamentally all occupation is more or less the same, there is no `better' occupation. So, from where should action take place? From what centre will action not be contradictory, not lead to mischief, misery, and corruption? Can there be action from a true source, which is not the action of occupation? Am I making my point clear? Probably not. As I said, it is a very complex problem, and I hope I am not making it too complicated. Let me put the issue differently. Your minds are occupied, are they not? That is fairly obvious. Now, why is the mind occupied? And what would happen if the mind were not occupied? What would happen to a woman if she were not occupied with the kitchen, or to a man if he were not occupied with business? What would happen to you if your mind were not occupied with these things? The immediate response is to say with what one would be occupied if one were not occupied with one's present activities -which indicates the demand for occupation. A mind which is not occupied feels lost, so the mind is always seeking occupation. Its occupation is invariably contradictory, which creates mischief; and after creating the mischief, we are concerned with how to remove the mischief, we are never concerned with the occupation of the mind. But if we can understand the occupation of the mind at different levels, then we shall discover the action which comes when the mind is not occupied, and which does not create mischief. Have you ever tried to find out why the mind is occupied? Try it now, sirs, if only for the fun of it. But first you must be aware that your mind is occupied - which is obvious. You are occupied with your business, with your promotion or failure, with how your wife quarrels with you, or you quarrel with her, and so on; and there is the occupation of a sannyasi, of the so-called religious man who is always reading, muttering words, chanting, who is caught in the repetition of rituals, who keeps busy disciplining himself, conforming to the pattern of an ideal. All that is occupation. We are all occupied, are we not? Why? Why is the mind occupied? Is it the nature of the mind to be occupied? If it is the nature of the mind to be occupied, whether with the high or with the low, which are relative, then such a mind can never find true action. The mind can observe, attend, discover, not when it is constantly busy, but only when it is capable of not being occupied. As long as the mind is occupied, any action born of that occupation must be restrictive, limiting, confusing. Try it and you will see how extraordinarily subtle and difficult it is to have a mind which is not everlastingly full; yet if there is the urgency to find out what is right action in this mad, confused, and suffering world, you have to come to this point. Our problem is, then, from what source, from what centre must action arise, if it is not to be contradictory and confusing? The social reformer does not ask this question, because he wants to act, to reform - and in the very process of reformation he is creating mischief. All politicians and religious leaders are doing this. No amount of reading scriptures, of conforming, adjusting to society, has ever solved our problems; on the contrary, they are multiplying. Seeing all this, we have to understand why this confused and sorrowful state has come into being. It has come into being because we all want immediate action; and immediate action can be found only in the superficial layers of our consciousness, it comes out of occupation, out of the so-called educated mind. Now, is there an action which is not the result of effort, which is not the action of will? The action of will is the action of desire; and desire, whether educated or uneducated, restrained or free, is limited to the contradictory layers of consciousness. Have you not noticed, sirs, that when you want to do one particular thing, immediately there is a contradiction in the form of restrictive fears, demands, examples, a sense of discipline which says, `Don't do that'? And so you are caught in conflict. Right through life we are caught in this way; from childhood till we die there is this everlasting contradiction and conformity. Seeing this, can the mind discover an action which is not contradictory, which is not mere conformity, which is not the product of influence? I think that is the fundamental issue, the right question; and one can find such action only when one is aware of and understands the total occupation of the mind. Do you know what your mind is occupied with? Go layer by layer, and you will discover that there is no space anywhere in the mind which is not occupied. And when you do inquire into the unconscious to discover what its occupation is, even then the superficial mind, which is examining the unconscious, has its own occupation. So what is one to do? One wants to find out the total occupation of the mind, because one sees that without being aware of the total occupation of the mind, any action is bound to create contradiction and therefore greater misery. Now, what is the mind, your mind, occupied with? And if it were not occupied, what would happen? Would you not be frightened to discover that your mind is not occupied at all? Therefore there would be an immediate urge to be occupied with something. Try it, and you will find out that there is never a moment when the mind is not occupied; and if you do experience a rare moment when the mind is not occupied, which is an extraordinary state, then how to get back to or to retain that state becomes your new occupation. So, I am suggesting that true action can come only when the mind has understood the totality of its occupation, conscious as well as unconscious, and knows the moment of not being occupied. You will find that action from those moments when the mind is not occupied is the only integrated action. When it is not occupied, the mind is uncontaminated by society, it is not the product of innumerable influences, it is neither Hindu nor Christian, neither communist nor capitalist; therefore it is itself a totality of action which you do not have to be occupied with, or think about. Now, if you have been good enough to listen to all this attentively, if you have not been asleep, but have listened with complete attention, then you will have experienced immediately the state of not being occupied. As one speaks, or listens, one is aware of the various layers of occupation, and of how contradictory they are; and being aware of the total contradictory nature of consciousness, the mind discovers a state in which it is not occupied. This brings a totally different sense of action. Then you have to do nothing, for the mind itself will act. Question: There is deep discontent in me, and I am in search of something to allay this discontent. Teachers like Shankara and Ramanuja have recommended surrender to God. They have also recommended the cultivation of virtue, and following the example of our teachers. You seem to consider this futile. Will you kindly explain. Krishnamurti: Why are we discontented, and what is wrong with discontent? Obviously we are discontented because, to put it very simply, we want to be something. If I am a good painter, I paint in order to be better known; if I write a poem, I am dissatisfied because it is not good enough, so I struggle to improve. If I am a so-called religious person, there too I want to be something. I follow the example of the various saints, and I want to have as good a reputation as they have. From childhood I have been told I must be as good as or better than somebody else. I have been brought up in comparison, competition, ambition, so my whole life is burdened with discontent. After all, discontent is envy; and our culture, religious and social, is based on envy. We are encouraged to be something for the sake of God. On the one hand, discontent is stimulated, and on the other, we try to find ways and means to overcome that discontent. Being discontented economically, socially, we turn to religious examples to find satisfaction; we meditate, practise disciplines, in order to have no discontentment and to be at peace. This is what is happening with all of you, and I say it is a futile business, it has no meaning at all. To follow, to imitate, to have authority in religious matters, is evil, just as it is evil to have tyranny in government, because then the individual is completely lost. At present you are not individuals, you are merely imitative machines, the product of a particular culture, of a particular education. You are the collective, not the individual - which is again fairly obvious. You are all Hindus or Christians, this or that, with certain dogmas, beliefs, which means that you are the product of the mass; therefore you are not individuals. You must be totally discontented to find out; but society does not want you to be discontented, because then you would be vital, you would begin to inquire, to search, to discover, and therefore you would be dangerous. Unfortunately, discontent with most of you is based on the demand for satisfaction, and the moment you are satisfied, your discontent goes. Then you wither and decay. Have you not observed how people who are discontented when they are young, lose their discontent the moment they have a good job? Give the communist a good job, and it is all over. It is the same with religious people. Don't laugh, it is the same with you. You want to find the right master, guru, the right discipline - which is a cage that will smother you, destroy you; and this destruction is called the search for truth. That is, you want to be permanently satisfied so that you will have no disturbance, no discontent, no sense of inquiry. That is what has actually happened; and the more ancient the culture, the more destructive it is, because tradition invariably breeds mediocrity. So we see that discontent, as we know it now, is merely the desire to find permanent satisfaction. And is there such a thing as permanent satisfaction, a permanent state of peace? Or is there only a state in which nothing is permanent? Only the mind that is totally impermanent, that is totally uncertain, can discover what is true; because truth is not static. Truth is always new, and it can be understood only by a mind which is dying to all accumulation, to all experience, and is therefore fresh, young, innocent. Now, is there a discontent which has no object, no motive? Do you understand? A mind whose discontent has a motive will find a conclusion that will satisfy it and destroy its discontent; and such a mind decays, withers. All our discontent is based on a motive, is it not? But now we are asking quite a different question. Is there a discontent which has no motive, which is not the product of a cause? Must you not inquire into this and find out? Surely, such a discontent is necessary - or let us use a different word, it does not matter; let us call it a movement which has no cause, no motive. I think there is such a movement, and it is not mere speculation, or a hopeful idea. When the mind understands the discontent that has a motive, the discontent that is born of the demand for satisfaction, for permanency - when the truth of that discontent is really seen -then the other is. But the other cannot be understood or experienced if there is discontent with a motive, and at present all our discontent has a motive: I cannot get what I want, my wife does not love me, I am no good as I am so I must be different, and so on. There is this endless multiplication of cause and effect, out of which comes the thing we call discontent. Now, if the mind is aware of that whole process and understands it totally, sees the truth of it, then you will find there is a movement which has no motive at all. It is a movement, an action, it is not static, and it may be called God, truth, or what you will. In that movement there is enormous beauty, and that movement may be called love; because after all, love is without motive. If I love you and want something from you, it is not love -though I may call it by that name - , because there is a motive behind it. Social or religious activity based on a motive, though it is called service, is not service at all; it is self-fulfilment. So, can one find out what it is to love without motive? It must be discovered, it cannot be practised. If you say, `How am I to get that love?', you are asking a question which has no meaning, because in wanting to get it you have a motive. When you use a method in order to get that love, the method only strengthens the motive, which is the `you'. Then you are important, not love. If you will go into this very deeply - which is quite hard work, and which in itself is meditation - I think you will find that there is a movement without motive, a movement which has no cause; and it is such a movement that brings peace to the world, not your discontented movement with a cause. The man in whom there is this movement without a cause, is a religious man; he is a man who loves, therefore he can do what he will. But the politician, the social reformer, the man who cultivates virtue in order to be happy, or to know God, whose efforts are the result of a motive at whatever level - the activities of such a man only breed hatred, antagonism, and misery. That is why it is very important for each one of us to find out for ourselves, and not follow Shankara, Ramanuja, Buddha, or Christ. To find out for ourselves, to discover something, we must be free; and we are not free if we merely quote Shankara, or some other authority. If we follow we shall never find. So freedom is at the beginning, not at the end. Liberation is now, not in the future. Liberation means freedom from authority, from ambition, from greed, from envy, and from this smothering of real discontent by the discontent which has a motive and demands an end. It is essential for a revolution to take place which is not within the pattern of society, but within each one of us, so that we become total individuals, and not little Shankaras, little Buddhas, little Christs. We must undertake the journey by ourselves, completely alone, without support, without influence, without encouragement or discouragement; because that way there is no motive. The journey itself is the motive, and only those who undertake that journey will bring something new, something uncorrupted to this world - not the social reformers, the do-gooders, not the masters and their pupils, nor the preachers of brotherhood. Such people will never bring peace to the world. They are mischief makers. The man of peace is the man who puts aside all authority, who understands the ways of ambition, of envy, who cuts himself off totally from the structure of this acquisitive society, and from all the things that are involved in tradition. Only then is the mind fresh; and you need a fresh mind to find God, truth, or what you will, not a mind that is put together by culture, by influence. MADRAS 4TH PUBLIC TALK 29TH JANUARY 1956 It seems to me that one of the most difficult things for us to do is to find out for ourselves what it is that we are seeking, whether collectively or individually. Some of us may want to improve society, to bring about an economic equality of opportunity for all according to the socialist, the communist, or some other pattern, hoping thereby to foster the well-being of man. Or perhaps we are trying to find out, as individuals, what this life means, why we suffer, why we have only rare moments of joy. There is the inevitable end, which we call death, and the fear of complete annihilation; so our minds are always hoping to find a remedy, an economic or religious system that will, for the time being at least, solve our many difficult problems. Others are trying to find a better way of bringing up or educating their children, so that the human being will not have to go through all this battle of competition, comparison, the struggle of greed, envy, and lustful desires. So it seems to me very important to find out what it is we are after, individually as well as collectively. When you sit here and listen, what is it that you are listening to? And what is the motive, the intention, the compelling urge, that is not only making you listen now, but which drives you everlastingly to seek, to strive? Is the search individual, or is it collective? That is, we all want something, we are all groping after some end. Some of us think we have found an economic system which would solve the problems of the world if people would only listen and could be organized. Others are not concerned with the many, but are individually seeking to bring about a better world through understanding themselves, or through the realization of God, truth, or what you will. So it is important, is it not, to be conscious of what we are seeking, and why we seek? Until we deliberately make ourselves conscious of what the mind is striving after, why we join various organizations, follow a particular guru, or live according to some pattern which promises a well-ordered society - until we are aware of the significance of that whole process, I think what we struggle after, and what we find, will have very little meaning. Most of us want a well-organized society which is not based on the values of ambition, on acquisitiveness, greed and envy. Any intelligent man wants to bring about a society of that kind; and he also wants to find out if there is something more than physical survival, something beyond the action and reaction of the mind -call it love, God, truth, or what you will. I think the majority of us want a sane, orderly, and balanced world, where poverty and degradation are non-existent, and where there are not the wealthy few, or the few who become extraordinarily powerful and tyrannical in the name of the proletariat, and all the rest of it. We want to bring about a different world. Surely, that is what the intelligent, the sensitive, the people who have sympathy, want and are struggling to create. And we also feel that life is not merely a matter of production and consumption, do we not? Life must be something more vital, more significant, more worth while. Now, this is what most of us want, and where shall we begin? If I feel this is essential for human beings everywhere, at what end shall I work? Shall I dedicate my life, my energies, my activities, to bringing about a sane, orderly and balanced world, a world in which there will be no tyranny, no poverty, a world in which the few will not direct the lives of the many through violence, through concentration camps, and so on? Shall I begin by being concerned with the improvement of the world and the economic welfare of man? Or shall I start at the psychological end, which eventually dominates the other? Even if we were to create a well-organized and equitable world, would not the man who is seeking power, whose psychological urge is to have position, prestige, again bring about chaos and misery? So, where shall we begin? Shall we lay emphasis on the psychological, or on the physical, the economic? This is a problem with which we are all confronted; I am not foisting it on you. Obviously there must be some kind of revolution. Shall the revolution be economic or religious? That is really the question. Considering the extraordinary state of the world - the violence, the misery, the confusion, the clamour of the various experts - , is it not your problem, if you are at all earnest, actively inquiring, to discover for yourself whether you as an individual can contribute to a fundamental revolution? If the revolution is merely economic, I do not think it will have much significance. I feel the revolution should be religious, that is, psychological. To me, the primary thing is to have the capacity to bring about a different way of thinking, a total revolution of the mind; because, after all, it is the mind that we are concerned with, for the mind can use any system to gain profit for itself. Whatever legislation, whatever sanctions you may introduce, the mind will continue to work for its own benefit. We have seen this historically, revolution after revolution. So, for those of us who feel it is imperative that the mind should undergo a revolution, how is this religious revolution to take place? By religious I do not mean the dogmatic, the traditional, the acceptance of this of that doctrine, belief; to me, these things are not religious. The people who practise certain forms of ceremony, who wear the sacred thread, who put whatever it is on their foreheads, or meditate for a certain number of hours each day, are not religious at all. They are merely accepting authority, and following it without thought. Religion, surely, is something entirely different. Now, how is this revolution in the mind to take place? I think it can take place only when we understand the totality of consciousness, which is a very complicated affair, as almost everything else in life is. If the mind can understand entirely its own workings, then there is a possibility of its ridding itself of the collective and bringing about this inward revolution. At present you are not an individual, are you? You may have a separate house, a distinctive name, a bank account of your own, and certain qualities, idiosyncrasies, capacities; but is that what makes individuality? Or does individuality come into being only when we understand the collective process of the mind? The mind, after all, is the result of the collective; it is shaped by society and is the outcome of innumerable conditionings. Whether you are a Hindu, a Moslem, a Christian, or a communist, you are the result of conditioning, of education, of social, economic, and religious influences which make you think in a certain way. So you are the product of the collective; and can the mind free itself from the collective? Surely, it is only then that there is a possibility of thinking totally anew, and not in terms of any religion or ism, whether of the West or of the East. Our problems demand a response which is not traditional, which is not according to some pattern or system of thought. So the question is, can the mind free itself from the past, from all the influences it has inherited, and discover something totally new, something not experienced before, which may be called reality, God, or what you will? Am I making this clear? We have an extraordinary series of challenges to face, have we not? The challenge is always new; and as long as the mind is conditioned by belief, caught in tradition, shaped according to a certain pattern, can it respond adequately to the new? Obviously it cannot. And yet most of us are in that position. The politicians, the experts, the so-called religious people, are all responding from a conditioned background, which means that their response is always inadequate, and therefore it creates more and more problems. We accept these problems as inevitable, as part of the process of living, and put up with them; but perhaps there is a different way of tackling this whole issue. That is, can the mind uncondition itself? Please listen. Don't say `yes' or `no', but let us find out together whether the totality of the mind, not only the conscious mind that is occupied with everyday events, but also the deeper layers of the mind, the mind which is conditioned to think in terms of the tradition in which it has been brought up - whether this total mind can free itself from all conditioning. And is that freedom a matter of time, or is it immediate? A conditioned mind may assert that the unconditioning of itself must be done gradually, over a period of time; but that very assertion may be another response of its conditioning. Please follow the process of your own mind, not just what I am saying. To laugh this off, or to accept, or deny it, would obviously be absurd, because this question must continue to arise. Most of us have accepted as part of our conditioning the idea that the unconditioning of the mind is a gradual process extending over several lives and demanding the practice of discipline, and so on. Now, that may be the most erroneous way of thinking, and the unconditioning of the mind may be, on the contrary, an immediate thing. I think it is immediate - which is not a matter of opinion. If you examine the whole process of your mind, you will see that the mind is the result of time, of accumulative experience, knowledge, and that its response is always from this background; so when you assert that the unconditioning of the mind can only be done gradually, and is a matter of time, you are merely responding according to your conditioning. Whereas, if you don't respond at all, but merely listen because you don't know - you actually don't know whether the mind can be unconditioned immediately or not - , then there is a possibility of discovering the truth of the matter. There are those who say that the mind can never be unconditioned, therefore let us condition it better. Formerly it was conditioned to worship God, which is a fantasy, a myth, an unreality, and now we shall condition it in a better way, which is to worship the State - the State being the few, the experts of this or that ideology. For such people, the problem is very simple. They assert that the mind cannot be unconditioned, and therefore they are only concerned with bettering its conditioning; but their assertion is again mere dogmatism, and there is no inquiry to find out what is true. Surely, to find out what is true, the mind cannot assert anything, it can neither accept not reject. Now, what is the state of the mind - and I hope you are in that state - which neither accepts nor rejects? Surely, your mind is then free to inquire; and when the mind is free to inquire, is it not already unconditioned? When the mind is inquiring, not superficially, inquisitively, curiously, but with persistency, with its total capacity to find out, such a mind is obviously free from all religious and political dogmas, it does not belong to any religion, it is not caught in the net of any belief or ideology, it has no authority. Where there is inquiry, there can be no authority. It is only the mind that is free to inquire, to discover - it is only such a mind that can bring about the religious revolution which is so essential. A free mind is truly religious, because it is fresh, innocent, new; and then, perhaps, that very mind itself is the real. Question: You say the way of tradition invariably breeds mediocrity. But will one not feel lost without tradition? Krishnamurti: What do we mean by tradition? It is the handing down, either in writing or through verbal expression, of a belief, of a custom, of experience, of knowledge, whether scientific, musical, artistic, religious, or moral. Surely, that is what we mean by tradition. And when I vainly repeat the traditions which have been handed down, that repetition makes my mind dull, mediocre. Knowledge is necessary in certain occupations. To build a bridge, to split the atom, to run a motor, to produce the many things that are necessary in modern life, knowledge is necessary; but the moment that knowledge becomes traditional, the mind ceases to create and merely functions mechanically. There are machines which can calculate faster than man; and if religiously, and in other ways, we merely accept tradition, obviously we are just like machines. Tradition gives us a certain security in society, and we are afraid to step out of that groove. We are afraid of what the neighbours might say; we have a daughter to marry off, and therefore we have to be careful. Our minds function traditionally, so we become mediocre and perpetuate misery, which is fairly obvious. Verbally we acknowledge this fact, but inwardly, and in action we do not, because we all want to be secure. And security is a very strange thing. The moment we seek to be secure, invariably we create circumstances and values that bring about insecurity -which is exactly what is happening in the world at the present time. All of us are seeking security in every direction, economic, social, national, and yet that very desire to be secure is creating chaos and bringing about insecurity. So, the mind functions in the groove of tradition because it hopes to be secure; and a mind that is seeking security is never free to discover. You cannot put away tradition; but if you understand the whole process, the psychological implications of it, you will find that tradition no longer has any meaning, and then you don't have to put it away, it drops off like a withered leaf. Then life has quite a different significance. Question: There are various systems of meditation for the realization of one's divinity, but you don't seem to believe in any of them. What do you think is meditation? Krishnamurti: It does not matter very much what one thinks meditation is, because thought is always conditioned; and surely it is very important to find out that thought is conditioned. There is no free thinking, because thought is the response of memory; and if you had no memory, you would be unable to think. The reaction of memory, which is conditioned, is what we call thinking; so it is not a matter of what we think about meditation, but of finding out what meditation is. A mind that is incapable of complete attention - not concentration, but complete attention - can never discover anything new. So meditation is necessary; but most of us are concerned with the system, the method, the practice, the posture, the manner of breathing, and all the rest of it. We are concerned, not with the discovery of what is meditation, but with how to meditate, and I think there is a vast difference between the two. To me, meditation is the very process of discovering what is meditation; it is not the following of a system, however ancient, and regardless of who has taught it to you. When the mind follows a particular system or discipline, however beneficial, however productive of a desired result, it is conditioned by that system - which is obvious; therefore it can never be free to discover what is real. So we are trying to find out what is meditation, not how to meditate; and if you will listen to this, not merely verbally, but actually, you will discover for yourself what it is. Do you know what meditation is? You can know only in terms of a system, because you want a result out of meditation. You want to be happy, to achieve this or that state, so your meditation is already premeditated. Please don't laugh it away, but watch it. Your meditation is merely repetition, because you want a result which is already established in your mind: to be happy, to be good, to discover God, truth, peace, or what you will. You have projected what you desire, and have found a method to attain it - and that is what you call meditation. After all, that projection is the result, the opposite, of what you have, of what you are. Being violent, you want peace, so you find a system, a method to achieve it; but in the very process of achieving that peace, you condition your mind so that it is incapable of discovering what is peace. The mind has only projected the idea of peace out of its own violence. Most of us think that learning to concentrate is meditation; but is it? Every child concentrates when you give him a new toy. When you do your job, if you are at all interested in it, you are concentrating, or you concentrate because your livelihood depends on it. But nothing very vital depends on your so-called meditation, so you have to force yourself to concentrate; your mind wanders off, and you keep struggling to bring it back again - which is obviously not meditation. That is merely learning a trick, how to concentrate on something in which you are not vitally interested. And one can see that a virtue that is practised is no longer virtue. Virtue is something that has no motive. Goodness has no incentive; if it has an incentive, it is no longer good. If I am good because I am rewarded for it, surely it ceases to be good; and to be free of reward, incentive, my mind has to undergo a complete revolution through the right kind of education. All this is meditation; it helps the mind to discover what is meditation. Surely, meditation cannot come into being without self-knowledge; and self-knowledge is to see how the mind seeks incentives, how it uses systems, and disciplines itself in order to achieve what it is after, what it hopes to gain. To be aware of all this is meditation, and not merely trying to produce stillness of mind. Stillness of mind can be produced very easily by taking a drug, or by repeating certain phrases; but in that state, the mind is not still. The mind can be still only when there is the understanding of what is meditation. A still mind is not asleep, it is extraordinarily alert; but a mind that is made still, is stagnant, and a stagnant mind can never understand what is beyond itself. The mind can discover or experience something beyond itself only when it understands the total process of itself; and that understanding requires complete attention, being fully awake to the significance of its own activities. You don't have to practise a system of discipline. For the mind to watch itself without distortion, is in itself an astonishing discipline. Not to distort what it sees, the mind must be free of all comparison, judgment, condemnation, not eventually, but free at the very beginning; and that requires a great deal of attention. Then you will find that the mind becomes totally quiet without being urged, not just at the superficial level, but deep down. At rare moments one may have an experience of stillness; but that very experience becomes a hindrance, because it becomes a memory, a dead thing. So, for the mind to be still, one must die to every experience; and when the mind is really still, then in that very stillness there is something which cannot be put into words, because there is no possibility of recognition. Anything that is recognizable has already been known; and when the mind is still, there is a total freedom from the known. MADRAS 5TH PUBLIC TALK 1ST FEBRUARY 1956 It seems to me that one of the most difficult and arduous things in life is to look at something as a whole, to have a feeling for the totality of things; and I think it is very important to understand why the mind so invariably breaks up the immediate action into patterns, into details, why it is seemingly incapable of grasping the total significance of existence at one glance. I don't know if you have thought about it at all from this point of view. Most of us approach all the complexities, the problems, the miseries and struggles of life, with a detailed outlook, with a mind that is very small, a mind that is conditioned, shaped by the culture, the society in which we live. We never seem able to grasp immediately the full significance of anything. Instead of seeing the whole tree at once, it is as if we looked at only the leaf, and from there gradually began to see the whole tree. So I think it is important to find out why the mind is apparently not capable of seeing the truth of something immediately, and letting that truth operate, instead of itself operating on the truth. After all, reality, God, or what you will, is not to be approached little by little, it cannot be put together piece by piece, as a wheel is; it must be seen immediately, or one does not see it at all. Most of us have been trained, I think, to approach this problem through the accumulation of knowledge, through analysis, or the cultivation of virtue. If one observes the everyday activities of one's own mind, all the ways of its operation, one sees how it is always gathering, learning, acquiring, putting things together little by little, hoping thereby to capture something which is beyond this process of accumulation; and this may be the gravest mistake. What is it that most of us are seeking? Whether we are Hindus, Christians, or what you will, we are trying to find something beyond the mere process of the mind, are we not? It is this search that we call religion. We practise various disciplines, we meditate according to certain systems, always in the hope of coming upon that which is not merely the result of a cultivated mind. But surely, to understand or to experience what is beyond the mind, there must be, not a carefully-nurtured letting go of the self, of the `me' and the `mine', but the complete abandonment of it without cultivation. I don't know if I am making myself clear on this point. Though we see it is important that the self, the `me', the ego, should go, yet all our activities, our thoughts, our practices, our religious disciplines, are actually encouraging the self. And seeing the futility of the analyzer and the analyzed, perceiving that the various forms of substitution, the various disciplines, are only strengthening the `me' in a subtle way and are therefore an impediment, can the mind abandon the whole of that process? To put it differently, our minds are conditioned, are they not? The culture, the society in which we are brought up, and various other influences, shape our minds from childhood as Hindus, as communists, and so on. And can the totality of the mind, the unconscious as well as the conscious, be unconditioned, not by degrees, not little by little, but immediately? Surely, that is one of our problems. Our minds are shaped, conditioned, held within a frame; and however much the mind may try to break the frame in which it is held, that very effort is the outcome of its conditioning, because the thinker is not separate from the thought; the maker of the effort to escape from the prison of the self, is also part of the self, is he not? And when we see that, when we realize the truth of it, can the mind abandon completely this conditioned way of thinking? I think we should consider here the problem of what it means to listen to something. When we listen to what is being said, how do we listen? If we listen with the intention, the desire to find something, to discover, to learn, then obviously there is no listening at all, because we are concerned with acquiring. Listening then becomes merely a superficial hearing without much significance. But if we can listen with that attention which has no object of attainment, then I think something revolutionary, the unexpected, the unpremeditated, takes place. You know, sirs, as I was saying the other day, all of us are in search of something; and most of us don't know what it is we are really seeking. To seek, to inquire, there must first be freedom; but we are obviously not free, therefore our search has no meaning at all. Our search is only for greater comfort, greater security, and so we are prisoners of our own desire. What we seek is the fulfillment of our own longing and so our search is no longer true search. If we observe ourselves we will see that there is this constant desire to find some peace, to have a permanent state of comfort, complete security; and this desire makes us prisoners at the very beginning. So it seems to me that what is important is not whether there is a reality, God, this or that, but to understand the process of one's own mind. Without self-knowledge, without knowing oneself, all search is obviously vain. And is it very difficult to know oneself? The self is made up of one's desires, greeds, ambitions, motives, envies, and the beliefs that the mind clings to; and to know that whole process, the conscious as well as the unconscious, is surely essential before one can discover anything new. And yet we are not concerned with that. We are not concerned with self-knowledge, with knowing the ways of our own minds. On the contrary, we are always escaping from that, and imposing on the mind certain patterns according to which we try to live. Surely the beginning of wisdom is self-knowledge. Without knowing oneself, which is a very complex entity, all thinking has very little meaning. If the mind does not know its own prejudices, vanities, fears, ambitions, greeds, how can it be capable of discovering what is true? All it can do is to speculate about what is true, have beliefs, dogmas, put restrictions on itself, think mechanically, follow tradition, and thereby create more and more problems. So what is important is to understand the ways of the self; and to understand the self is not to alter it, not to deny or control it, but to observe it. If I want to understand something, I cannot condemn it, can I? If I want to understand a child, I must neither condemn nor compare him with another child; I must study, watch him, be aware of all his ways. Similarly, if I want to understand the total process of my mind, I must be observant, watchful, passively aware of the way I talk, of my gestures, of the underlying motives; and that is not possible if I condemn or compare. I think that to understand the totality of one's own mind is really the most important thing in life; and one can watch the operations of the mind only in relationship, because nothing exists in isolation. We exist only in relationship; and relationship is the mirror in which to observe the mind's activities. So, the mind is conditioned, it is the result of the past, all our thinking is the process of the past; and the problem is, can such a mind comprehend that which is timeless, beyond itself? As I was pointing out the other day, what is necessary is a religious revolution; and a religious revolution can come about only when each one of us frees himself from all dogmas, beliefs, and rituals. Surely, it is only then that the mind is capable of understanding itself, and thereby coming to that state in which there is no thinking - thinking being the movement of the past. We now try to solve our problems through thought - and it is thought that has created the problems, because thought is the result, the process of the past. All thinking is conditioned. If you observe, you will see that there is no free thinking, because thinking is the movement of the past, it is the reaction of memory; and we have used thought as a means of discovering what is true. But what is true can be discovered only when the mind is completely still, not made still, not disciplined, coerced. Stillness comes into being only when through self-knowledge the totality of the mind is understood. Self-knowledge comes through awareness, through watchfulness of thought, in which there is no entity who is observing thought. The observer of thought arises only when there is condemnation, when there is a desire to direct thought. After all, the thinker is part of thought, is he not? There is no thinker if there is no thought; but we have divided the thinker from the thought for reasons of our own security. We have created this division out of our desire to have a permanent entity, which we call the spiritual; but if you observe very closely, you will see that there is no permanency at all. There is only thinking, and thinking is a movement of the past, of experience, of knowledge. Now, as long as there is the thinker separate from thought, there must be conflict, the process of duality, there must be this gap between action and idea. But cannot the mind actually experience that extraordinary state when there is only thinking, and not the thinker, when there is only an awareness in which there is no condemnation or comparison? The condemnatory and comparative process is the way of the thinker separate from thought. There is only thinking, and thinking is impermanent. Realizing the impermanency of thinking, the mind creates the permanent as the Atman, the higher self, and all the rest of it; but it is still the process of thinking. Thinking is conditioned, it is the result of the past, of accumulated experience, knowledge, so it can never lead to the unknown, the timeless. After all, the self, the `me', is nothing but a bundle of memories; and even though you give it a spiritual quality, a permanent value, it is still within the area of thought, and therefore impermanent. The difficulty for most people is to let go of this `permanent' quality of the mind, which is its own invention. Most of us want permanency in one form or another, and so the mind has given a quality of permanency to what it calls reality, God. Surely, there is nothing permanent. Reality is not continuous, not permanent, but something to be discovered from moment to moment. When the mind has a momentary experience of something real, it desires to make that reality permanent, and the permanent becomes the past, it is held within the field of time; but the new can exist only when the past is dead. That is why one must die to every experience. It is only when the mind is simple, fresh, innocent, unburdened with knowledge, that it is capable of immediate perception. Every form of experience becomes the means of further recognition, does it not? Having met you yesterday, I recognize you today. The mind is a process of recognition, and with that process of recognition we try to experience the real; but the real cannot be so experienced, for it cannot be recognized. If you can recognize it, it is out of the past, it is held in memory, it has already been known; therefore it is not the real. So the mind must be in that state when there is no experiencer at all, which means that the process of recognition must cease. You will find that this is not as fantastic as it sounds. When you see a beautiful sunset, what happens? There is an immediate reaction to that beauty, and then you begin to compare; the sunset which you saw a week ago was much more beautiful. So you have established a connection, the new experience is already related to the past. This process of comparison is the action of recognition which prevents the mind from constantly experiencing something new. After all, the mind is the result of the known, and it is always trying to capture the unknown in terms of the known. The coming into being of the unknown is possible only when there is freedom from the known. The known is the `me', and whether you place it at the highest or the lowest level, it is still the `me', which is accumulated experience, the process of recognition. The `me' is incapable of seeing the totality of this extraordinary thing that we call life, and that is why we have broken up the world as Christian and Hindu, Buddhist and Moslem, and why we are breaking up India into little linguistic pieces. All that is the process of the petty mind held within the field of the known. There must be freedom from the known for the unknown to be. That is a fact, it is obviously so; because reality, God, or what you will, cannot be known, cannot be recognized. Knowledge, recognition, is the result of the past, and a mind that is looking for the unknown through the known, can never find it. It is only when the mind is free from the known that the other is. Now, when you listen to that statement, which is an obvious fact, what happens? If you give your whole attention to it, you do not ask how to be free from the known. The mind can never make itself free from the known; if it does, it merely creates another known. But if you give your whole attention to that fact, then you will see that the very fact itself begins to operate, just like the life in the seed begins to push up through the soil. Then the mind has to do nothing. If the mind operates on the fact, it can only operate in detail, putting many little parts together to find the whole; but the putting together of many parts does not make the whole. The whole must be perceived instantaneously. That is why it is important to understand the ways of the mind, not through books, not through reading the Gita or the Upanishads, but by watching yourself in relationship with your wife, with your children, with your neighbour, with your boss, by observing the way you talk to your servant, to the bus-man. Then you will begin to discover to what depths the mind is conditioned; and in that very discovery of the mind's conditioning, there is freedom. What is important is to discover, not merely to repeat. Through this constant discovery of the ways of the self, the mind becomes very quiet without suppression, without restriction, without being put in a frame; and for such a mind, because it is free from the known, there is a possibility of the coming into being of the unknown. Question: In India we have been told for centuries to be spiritual, and our daily life is an endless round of rituals and ceremonies. Is this spirituality? If not, then what is it to be spiritual? Krishnamurti: Sir, let us find out what it means to be spiritual -not the definition of that word, which you can look up in a dictionary, but as we are sitting here together let us really experience that state, if there is such a state at all. A mind which is crippled by authority, whether it be the authority of a book, of a guru, of a belief, or of an experience, is obviously incapable of discovering what is true, is it not? And can the mind be free from all authority? That is, can the mind stop seeking security in authority? Surely, only a mind that is not afraid of being insecure, uncertain, is capable of finding out what it is to be spiritual. The man who merely accepts a belief, a dogma, who performs rituals and ceremonies, is not capable of discovering what is true, or what it is to be spiritual, because his mind is held within the pattern of tradition, of fear, of greed. Now, can the mind which has been held in ceremonies, drop them immediately? Surely that is the only test, because in dropping them, you will discover all the implications involved; the fears, the antagonisms, the quarrels, all the things which the mind has been unwilling to face, will come out. But we never do that. We merely talk about being spiritual. We read the Upanishads, the Gita, repeat some mantrams, play around with ceremonies, and call this religion. Surely, that which is spiritual must be timeless. But the mind is the result of time, of innumerable influences, ideas, impositions; it is the product of the past, which is time. And can such a mind ever perceive that which is timeless? Obviously not. It can speculate, it can vainly grope after, or repeat, some experiences which others may have had; but being the result of the past, the mind can never find that which is beyond time. So all that the mind can do is to be completely quiet, without any movement of thought, and only then is there a possibility of the coming into being of that state which is timeless; then the mind itself is timeless. So ceremonies are not spiritual, nor are dogmas, nor beliefs, nor the practising of a particular system of meditation; for all these things are the outcome of a mind which is seeking security. The state of spirituality can be experienced only by a mind that has no motive, a mind that is no longer seeking; for all search is based on motive. The mind that is capable of not asking, of not seeking, of being completely nothing - only such a mind can understand that which is timeless. Question: I have attended the recent morning discussions. Do you want us not to think at all? And if we have to think, how are we to think? Krishnamurti: Sir, not to think at all would be a state of amnesia, a state of idiocy. If you did not know where you lived, if you could not remember the way to your home, something would be wrong, would it not? We have to think. We have to think clearly, sanely, purposefully and directly. The mind is the only instrument we possess, and we have to think in order to learn a technique, which will enable us to get a job and earn a livelihood; but beyond that, our thinking becomes ambition, greed, envy, and our society is built on these things. In our education we are everlastingly concerned with helping those who are being educated to fit into society; so our thinking, and the thinking of the generation to come, is concerned with fitting into a society which is based on greed, envy, and acquisitiveness. But the function of education, surely, is not to help the young to conform to this rotten society, but to be free of its influences, so that they may create a new society, a different world. Thinking is essential; but when the mind is occupied with greed, with envy, with the whole process of the `me', then thinking is obviously corrupt, and any society based on that thinking inevitably degenerates. Thinking in which the self is cultivated as virtue, as respectability, as conformity, becomes an impediment to the discovery of what is real. That is why it is important that a revolution should take place in the mind, a religious revolution; and that can come about only when you and I no longer belong to society. This does not mean putting on a loincloth and having little or no shelter, it means cutting oneself away completely, inwardly, from all acquisitiveness. It means not being greedy, not being ambitious, not pursuing power, so that there is no `me' becoming something, either worldly or spiritual. The only revolution is this religious revolution, which has nothing to do with any church, with any organization, with any dogma or belief. It must take place in each one of us, and only then is there a possibility of creating a new world. MADANAPALLE 1ST PUBLIC TALK 12TH FEBRUARY 1956 When we are confronted with so many problems, when the world is at war or preparing for war, when there is so much production and at the same time starvation, I think the most important thing in all this human struggle is to understand the mind. Surely, the mind is the only instrument which can find the right answer to the many problems that exist, yet we very rarely give thought to or examine the process of the mind. We think that ready-made answers, or certain patterns of thinking, will solve our problems. As Hindus we have a certain way of thinking which we hope will resolve our complex problems; and if we are communists, Christians, or Buddhists, we have other ready-made answers. Very few of us give real consideration to the process of thinking, to the ways of the mind itself; and it seems to me that the solution lies there, not in approaching the problem with a mind that is already shaped or conditioned. So, this evening I would like, if I may, to consider this question of what is the mind; because it is obvious that, without going very deeply into this whole problem, without understanding the composition and state of the mind, mere speculative thinking, or identification with a particular belief, is utterly futile. And in trying to understand the process of the mind, I think it is important to listen rightly. Most of us listen with a mind already made up, or burdened with preconceptions, or we listen to find an opposing argument, and very few listen intently, with freedom; but it is only when we are inquiring freely, not tethered to any particular belief, that the mind can find the truth of any problem. So this talk will be of significance only if we can listen rightly, which is quite arduous, and not merely treat it as a lecture to be casually listened to of an evening and set aside. As I was saying, unless we understand the ways of the mind, we cannot possibly understand the complex problem of living. Now, what is the mind? We are trying to find out, not merely assert or accept. And to find out, you have to observe your own mind in operation as you are listening to the description of what the mind is. That is, though I am talking, describing the mind, be aware of the process of your own thinking, and thereby find out for yourself what the mind is. Let us be very clear why it is important to understand the mind. The mind is the only instrument we have, the instrument of perception, of understanding, of thought; and without clarification of the mind, our endeavour to find out what is reality, truth, God, or what you will, can have very little significance. So we are trying to inquire into the actual process of the mind, we are not merely accepting or rejecting what is said. Surely, the mind is the conscious as well as the unconscious, it is a totality which includes both the open and the hidden processes of thought. Most of us are occupied exclusively with the conscious, with the everyday events, ambitions, struggles, greeds, and we are completely unaware of the content of the unconscious, that is, of the mind which lies below the daily activities of the conscious mind; and until we understand the totality, including what is in the unconscious, mere occupation with the conscious will have very little meaning. We know that the conscious mind is occupied with daily events, with a job, earning a livelihood, with its reactions and constant adjustments to immediate problems. It is the conscious mind that is educated in a certain technique, that accumulates knowledge and so-called culture. Below that superficial mind there are the many layers of the unconscious, in which are rooted the racial, cultural and social urges, the religious beliefs and traditions, the instinctive responses based on the values of the particular society in which we have been brought up. Without going into many details, that is the totality of the mind, is it not? So, the totality of the mind is conditioned, shaped, limited by many influences - by our diet, by the climate and the culture in which we live, by social and economic values. Now, with that conditioned mind, with which we are dissatisfied, we are trying to find something beyond the mind. We see that the mind is very small, confused, contradictory, and with that mind we are trying to understand the unknowable. After all, our minds are the result of time, time being the known, the past, the accumulation of knowledge; and with this instrument, which is still within the field of time, the so-called religious people are trying to find something which is beyond time. So the question inevitably arises, can the conditioned mind understand or experience that which is not of its own fabrication? That is one of our great problems, is it not? And surely we shall never be able to solve our problems as long as we are thinking as Hindus, Christians, or communists, because it is by thinking in these very terms that we have created the problems. It is only when the mind is free from all traditions, values, beliefs, superstitions, acceptances, that there is a possibility of solving our many human problems. The question is, then, can the mind which has been brought up, educated in a certain pattern, free itself from that pattern? That is, can the mind let go of the beliefs, traditions, and values which are based on authority, on mere acceptance? Can all this be set aside so that the mind is free to investigate, to find out? That is our problem, is it not? Which means, really, is it possible for the mind to free itself from the securities to which it is tethered? Because, after all, what most of us are seeking, outwardly or inwardly, is some form of security. If I have the outward security of position, prestige, money, temporarily I may be satisfied; but a time comes when I begin to demand an inward security, I take psychological refuge in belief, in dogma, in tradition, in a certain patterned way of thinking. And can the mind which is seeking security, which demands to be safe, undisturbed, ever find reality, God, or whatever name you like to give it? Obviously not. The mind that desires to be secure will find what it is seeking, but not that which is true. So, can the mind free itself from this urge to be secure? And surely, a mind which demands security inwardly, psychologically, will invariably create outward insecurity in the social structure. Nationalism , for example, is an idea to which the mind clings as a means of psychological security; and this worship of nationalism must inevitably create insecurity outwardly - which is precisely what is happening in the world. Now, if you observe it very closely, you will see that the mind is constantly trying to find something permanent which it calls peace, reality, or what you will. And is there anything permanent? Yet the mind creates values which it assumes to be permanent, and then believes in them; it establishes certain habits of thought which become permanent, and such a mind is never free to inquire. I think it is important to understand the significance of this, because, after all, freedom is at the beginning, not at the end. It is only the free mind that can inquire, not a tethered mind, not a mind that is held by belief, dogma, tradition; yet all our education is based on these things, not only at school, but as we go through life, which is also part of education. We never inquire into the possibility of having freedom first, because inquiry of such a nature demands a thinking process which does not start with an assumption, or with accumulated experience, either its own or that of others. So it seems to me that to find reality, the unknowable, which is not to be premeditated, or speculated upon, the mind must be free from everything it has known, it must die to all its many yesterdays. Only then is the mind innocent, and therefore able to find out what is real. There are some questions here, and I wonder why we ask questions. Is it with the intention of receiving an answer? And is there an answer, or only a probing into the problem without looking for an answer? If I am looking for an answer, then my mind is entirely concentrated on the discovery of the answer, and not on the understanding of the problem. Most of us are concerned with the solution, with the answer, so we give divided attention to the problem; therefore the problem is never understood, and so there is no answer. To inquire into the problem requires a mind that is not looking for an answer, but one that is capable of investigating without judging or condemning. Can we look at anything without comparing, judging, condemning? If you will experiment with it, you will see how extraordinarily difficult it is, because the whole process of our thinking is based on comparison, judgment, condemnation. But if we can inquire into the problem and not wait for an answer, then the problem itself is resolved without our looking for an answer. Question: Can there be world peace without a world government to establish and maintain it? And how can that be brought about? Krishnamurti: Is peace external or inward? Can any government bring peace, even though it be one government for the whole world? It may establish outward order without the constant threat of war, but even that can take place only when there is no nationalism, when there are no frontiers, either political or religious. So we must be clear as to what we mean by peace. Is peace a thing to be created by the authority of any government, whether communist, imperialist, capitalist, or what you will? Is peace to come about through legislation? One can see that a world government could bring about a certain type of peace. It could perhaps abolish sovereign governments with their armed forces, which are one of the causes of war; but surely that is not the entire meaning of peace. Peace is of the mind. And can the mind be at peace as long as it is ambitious, greedy, envious? It is the greedy, envious, acquisitive mind that has created this warring society in which we live, is it not? Our society is based on acquisitiveness, envy, greed, the driving ambition to be something; and so within our society there is constant battle, conflict. So, peace is of the mind, it cannot be brought about through mere legislation. Tyranny may establish some sort of order in a confused and contradictory society, and order can also be brought about through the parliamentary action of a democratic government; but as long as there is the spirit of nationalism, which creates sovereign governments with their armed forces, as long as there are frontiers and racial divisions, there are bound to be wars. So the man who would be peaceful cannot belong to any country; nor can he belong to any religion, for religion at present is merely organized dogmatism. This thing that we call peace is something that has to be understood inwardly, and not merely sought through legislation, or through the coming together of many opinions. If you observe, you will see how we worship nationalism and uphold the flag of a particular country. We identify ourselves with the whole of what we call India because, being petty, inwardly empty, and living in a little place like Madanapalle, it gives us a certain pride, it flatters our vanity, to call ourselves Indians; and for that pride and vanity we are willing to kill, or be killed. This very complex psychological process, which goes on in every country, has to be understood by each one of us, and not merely legislated against. That is why the truly religious man is one who does not belong to any religion, or to any particular country. Question: You are an Indian and an Andhra, born here in Madanapalle. We are proud of you and your good work in the world. Why don't you spend more time in your native country instead of living in America? You are needed here. Krishnamurti: You know, it is a peculiar process that is going on in the world, this identification of oneself with a particular piece of land, or with a so-called religion. Does it matter very much where you were born, or what language you speak, or what particular culture you were raised in? Look at what is happening in this country. We are breaking up into parts, calling ourselves Tamils, Telugus, Maharashtrians, and all the rest of it. This breaking up process is maintained in Europe too, with the Germans, the English, the French, the Italians, and so on. When a man worships and identifies himself with the particular, his struggles become much greater, his misery increases. As long as I remain an Andhra, belonging to a particular class and to a particular religion, my mind is very petty, small, narrow. It is surely the function of the mind to break through all these limitations and find the whole; but the whole is not made up of parts. By putting many parts together, the whole is not to be found. It is only by not being entangled in the part that there is a possibility of seeing the whole immediately. Question: I have a son who is very dear to me, and I see that he is being subjected to many bad influences both at home and at school. What am I to do about it? Krishnamurti: We are all the product, not of one particular influence, but of many contradictory influences, are we not? And the questioner wants to know how he is to prevent his son from being subjected to the bad influences, both at home and at school. But surely the problem is much more complex than merely to find a way of resisting bad influences. What we have to consider is the whole process of influence, is it not? After all, the student is inevitably exposed to many influences, both good and bad. There is not only the home influence and the influence of the school, but there is also the influence of what he reads, of the things he hears, of the climate, of the kind of food he eats, of the religion and the culture in which he is brought up. He is the sum total of these many influences, as you and I are, and we cannot reject some and hold on to others. All that we can do is to observe all these influences and find out if the mind can be free of them. But unfortunately, as it is now, our education is a process of imposing on the student the so-called good influences. That is one part of it; and the other part is a process of cramming his mind with certain information so that he can pass some examination, put a few letters after his name, and get a job. That is all we are concerned with in what we now call education. But right education is something entirely different, is it not? It is not merely a matter of giving the student the technical knowledge which will enable him to hold a job, but it is to help him to be aware of all these influences and not be caught in any one of them. To do this he must have a good mind, and a good mind is one that is learning, not one that has learnt; because the mind that accumulates has ceased to learn. Learning then becomes something out of the past, and so there is no further inquiry. So, what is right education? Is it merely a definition gathered from some book, or is it a constant process of understanding the many influences that impinge on the mind, so that the mind is set free at the very beginning and is therefore capable of inquiry? Surely, a mind that is capable of real inquiry is always learning, it is not merely a repository of information. Anybody who knows how to read can look up information in an encyclopedia. While it is obviously necessary in education to impart technical knowledge so that the student can have a job, at present that is all most parents are concerned with. They want their child to be trained for a good position in the present social structure, to be helped to adjust himself to this society, which is based on greed, envy, and ambition. You want your child to fit into that framework, you don't want him to be a revolutionary, so you have this so-called education which merely helps him to conform, to imitate, to follow. But is it not possible for those who really love their children to help them to understand the many influences of society, of the culture in which they were born, so that when they grow up they will not conform to the pattern of a particular culture, but will perhaps create their own society, free of envy, ambition, and greed? Surely, such people are the only truly religious people. Revolution is religious, not merely economic. Religion is not the acceptance of some dogma, tradition, or so-called sacred book. Religion is the inquiry to find the unknown. MADANAPALLE 2ND PUBLIC TALK 19TH FEBRUARY 1956 I am sure most of us feel that a fundamental revolution is necessary in a world where there is so much chaos, misery, starvation, and the constant threat of war. We feel there must be some kind of change, and each group has its own particular panacea or method for coping with the miseries of the world. The communists have one pattern, the capitalists another, and the so-called religious people still another. Being eager to bring about a change, which is so obviously necessary, we join one or other of these various groups, and I think it is important to find out what we mean by change - not the change of mere outward, legislative action, but a much more fundamental, more radical change. We can see that any change according to a preconceived plan involves an executive body to carry out that plan, and that the authority which must be vested in such a body invariably becomes tyrannical - which is what is actually happening in the word. There is the tyranny of well-organized authority in the hands of a few, or the tyranny of a particular religion, or the tyranny of authority vested in a particular section of society. Seeing all this, you and I, the ordinary people, are desirous to bring about a change for the better, so that mankind everywhere will have adequate food, clothing, and shelter, a wider education, and so on. Now, as I said, it is important to find out what we mean by change. For most of us, change implies a modified continuity of what has been, does it not? Though the so-called revolutionaries desire to bring about a radical transformation of society, their attitude, their values, their concepts and formulas, are all based on the past, on the reaction of what they have known, and any change arising from that source is merely a continuity of what has been, however modified. They may not begin that way, but eventually it comes to that, and to me that is no change at all. Change implies something entirely different, and I would like, if I may, to go into this whole issue. We realize that there must be a fundamental change in our way of thinking, a radical transformation of the human mind and heart; but this extraordinary change cannot be brought about by merely continuing what has been in a modified form. Nor can this radical revolution in the mind be brought about through education as it now exists; for what we now call education is merely the learning of a technique in order to earn a livelihood and conform to the pattern imposed by society. So, seeing all this, where are we to begin? Where does one begin to bring about this fundamental change which is so obviously essential in the social order? Surely, the individual problem is the world problem. Society is what we have made it. There are those who have, and those who have not; those who know, and those who are ignorant; those who are fulfilling their ambition, and those who are frustrated; there are the various religions, with their ceremonies and dogmatic beliefs, and the ceaseless battle within society, this everlasting competition with each other to achieve, to become. All this is what you and I have created. Social reforms may be brought about through legislation or through tyranny; but unless the individual radically changes, he will always overcome the new pattern to suit his psychological demands - which is again what is happening in the world. It seems to me very important, then, to understand the total process of individuality, because it is only when the individual changes radically that there can be a fundamental revolution in society. It is always the individual, never the group or the collective, that brings about a radical change in the world, and this again is historically so. Now, can the individual, that is, you and I, change radically? This transformation of the individual, but not according to a pattern, is what we are concerned with, and to me it is the highest form of education. It is this transformation of the individual that constitutes religion, not the mere acceptance of a dogma, a belief, which is not religion at all. The mind that is conditioned to a particular pattern which it calls religion, whether Hindu, Christian, Buddhist, or what you will, is not a religious mind, however much it may practise all the so-called religious ideals. So, can you and I bring about a radical transformation in ourselves without compulsion, without motive? Any form of compulsion is an egocentric activity, it distorts the mind, and motive is always based on the process of the self, the `me', the ego. And can there be a fundamental change in each one of us without motive, without compulsion? I think this is an issue which requires a great deal of thought, inquiry, it is not to be easily dismissed by saying that there can or cannot be such a change. A man who is really earnest must go deeply into this problem of bringing about a transformation within himself. Surely, this inward change is not according to a pattern, or a religious concept, but it comes about only through self-knowledge. That is, without knowing the totality of my consciousness, the whole of my being, any ideal, formula, concept, or belief I may have, is merely a wish, an idea, it has no basis, and therefore it is not a reality at all. Unless there is self-knowledge, that is, unless I am beginning to know myself completely, whatever activity I may enter will be destructive and only cause more mischief. So, if one is at all serious? if one is really concerned about the chaos and the misery in the world, is it not vitally important to understand the process of oneself? Now, what is self-knowledge? Self-knowledge is not according to any book, it cannot be had through the authority of any person. The ways of my thought must be discovered, and I can only discover them in relationship; because relationship is a mirror in which I can see myself, not theoretically, but as I actually am. Surely, it is in relationship with my wife, my children, my neighbour, my servants, my boss, with the whole of society, that I discover myself as I am; for in that mirror of relationship I can see my superstitions, my judgments, my habits of thought, the traditions which I follow, the comparative values which I give to experiences and to things. What generally happens is that we like or dislike what we see in the mirror of relationship, and therefore we either accept or condemn it. But it is possible to discover the ways of thought, the hidden motives and pursuits, the reactions of a mind conditioned by a particular society, only when we look into that mirror without any sense of condemnation or comparison, without judgment. Only then is the mind, the conscious as well as the unconscious, freed from its own bondage, and so perhaps able to go beyond the limitations of itself. After all, that is meditation, is it not? True religion is for the mind to understand its own processes, that is, its ambition, envy, greed, hatred, because the very understanding of those things puts an end to them without compulsion, and therefore the mind is free to explore. Then there is a possibility of finding that which is reality, truth, God, or what name you will. But without self-knowledge, merely to assert or deny that God or reality exists, has no significance at all. We can see that one part of the world is conditioned to accept the idea of God, while another part is being conditioned not to believe in God, but to believe in and sacrifice itself for the State. And is it possible for the mind to free itself from all conditioning? Surely, it is only the mind that is unconditioning itself, and is therefore able to act - it is only such a mind that brings about a radical revolution. That is why it is very important for you and me individually to free ourselves from the collective; because if one is not free, there is no possibility of exploring to find out what is true. So the earnest must obviously inquire into this issue, and not merely conform to a pattern of thought. Only the individual who is religious in the true sense of the word can bring about a new state, a new way of looking at life; and the truly religious individual is he who is freeing himself from the conditioning of a particular society, and is therefore truly revolutionary. Question: Without believing in a Planner of this universe, I feel that life is meaningless. What is wrong with this belief? Krishnamurti: Surely, by "Planner of this universe" you mean God, only you use a different name. Now, what is belief? What do we mean by that word, not just the dictionary meaning, but what is its psychological content? And what is the process of the mind that necessitates a belief? What makes you say, `I believe in God' or `I don't believe in God'? What is the psychological urge that makes the mind accept or reject belief in God, in a planner of the universe? Until we discover that, mere believing or disbelieving has very little meaning. Obviously, if from childhood you are told to believe in God, you grow up believing, just as another child, who is told not to believe, grows up disbelieving, One is called a believer and the other an atheist, but both are conditioned. When you believe in a Planner of the universe, it is because you have been encouraged to believe from childhood, and your mind has been impregnated with this idea; or else you feel this life is so uncertain, in such a state of flux, that your mind clings to something as permanent, and that permanency you call God, or by some other name, giving it certain attributes, qualities. This is neither right nor wrong, it is the actual process of the mind. Because we see about us so much misery, chaos, such transiency, an utter lack of peace within and without, the mind creates and clings to something timeless, something everlastingly beautiful, peaceful. So in its uncertainty, the mind creates its own certainty. But a mind that believes or disbelieves, that accepts or rejects, can never find out what is God. God must be found, discovered, not believed in. To find, the mind must be free from both belief and disbelief. Surely, that state which we call God, that timeless reality, must be something totally new, and only a free mind can discover it, not a mind that is tethered to a dogma, to a belief. After all, if you observe, if you think about it at all, you will see that the mind is the result of time - time being memory, experience, knowledge. That is, the mind is the result of the known, of the past, of many thousands of years. Now, with that mind we are trying to find the unknown, that something which may be called God, truth, or what you will. But such a mind cannot find the unknown, it can only project what is known into the future. Any belief held by the mind is the result of its own conditioning; any speculative formula or concept is the result of the known; my movement of the mind to inquire into the unknown, is utterly useless and vain, because the mind can only think in terms of the known. When it understands this total process and is therefore free of the known, the mind becomes very quiet, completely still; and only then is it possible for the unknown to be. Surely, this is meditation - not the projection of the known into the future, and the worshipping of that projection. Question: in this world, goodness does not pay. How can we create a society which will encourage goodness? Krishnamurti: To the intellectuals, `goodness' is a terrible word, and they generally want to avoid it; but now it is becoming the fashion even among the intellectuals to use that word. And is there goodness when there is a motive behind it? If I have a motive to be good, does that bring about goodness? Or is goodness something entirely devoid of this urge to be good, which is ever based on a motive? Is good the opposite of bad, the opposite of evil? Every opposite contains the seed of its own opposite, does it not? There is greed, and there is the ideal of non-greed. When the mind pursues non-greed, when it tries to be non-greedy, it is still greedy, because it wants to be something. Greed implies desiring, acquiring, expanding; and when the mind sees that it does not pay to be greedy, it wants to be non-greedy, so the motive is still the same, which is to be or to acquire something. When the mind wants not to want, the root of want, of desire, is still there. So goodness is not the opposite of evil; it is a totally different state. And what is that state? Obviously, goodness has no motive, because all motive is based on the self, it is the egocentric movement of the mind. So what do we mean by goodness? Surely, there is goodness only when there is total attention. Attention has no motive. When there is a motive for attention, is there attention? If I pay attention in order to acquire something, the acquisition, whether it be called good or bad, is not attention; it is a distraction, a division. There can be goodness only when there is a totality of attention in which there is no effort to be or not to be. Probably you are not used to all this. To me, making effort to be good is a process which in itself brings about evil. A man who tries to be humble, who practices humility, breeds evil; because the moment you are conscious that you are humble, you are no longer humble, you are arrogant. Sirs, don't laugh it away. Humility is not to be practised; and a man who practices humility is fostering arrogance. Virtue is not a thing to be cultivated; because a man who cultivates virtue, cultivates the ego, the `me', only in more respectable clothing. As humility is not to be practised, so goodness is not to be practised; it comes into being only when there is the complete attention which comes with the total understanding of yourself. Think about it, and you will see that the very practice of nonviolence creates violence. To be free of violence, you have to understand all the implications of violence; and for that you must give your whole attention, which you cannot do if you are pursuing the so-called ideal. When the mind is able to give its undivided attention to what is, which is greed, then you will see that the mind is totally free from greed. It does not become non-greedy - it is free from greed, which is an entirely different state. You see, we use the ideal of non-greed as a means of getting rid of greed; but we can never get rid of greed through an ideal. We have practised that ideal for centuries, and we are still greedy. But a man who really sees the necessity of being free from greed, has no ideal; he is only concerned with greed, which means he is giving his whole attention to it. And when you give your whole attention to something, in that attention there is no comparison, no condemnation, no judgment. A mind that is comparing, condemning greed, is incapable of giving full attention, because it is concerned with comparison and condemnation. So goodness is not an opposite, it is not a virtue; it is a state of being without motive which comes through self-knowledge. Question: Do you accept the view that communism is the greatest menace to human progress? If not, what do you think about it? Krishnamurti: Surely, any form of tyranny is evil. Any form of power over others is evil, whether it be the little power exercised by a bureaucrat in this town, or the widespread tyranny of a group of people who are planning the future of man according to an ideology and forcing everybody to conform for the so-called benefit of the whole. Such power is evil; but let us look at it very simply and see the difficulty involved in this issue. A society must obviously be planned. But what happens in planning a society, and in executing that plan? There must be an administrative body vested with the authority to carry it out, which means that the few have power; and that very power becomes evil when exercised in the name of God, in the name of society, or in the name of a future Utopia. And yet we need planning, otherwise society becomes chaotic. There is, then, this problem of power vested in the few who become tyrannical, ruthless, who say, `We know the future and you don't. We are planning for the welfare of man, so you must conform, otherwise we will liquidate you'. So, can we plan a society without tyrannizing over man? That is the whole issue. Communism is only a new word for a game that has been going on for centuries. The Roman Catholic Church has done it, with its Inquisition, excommunication, and torture to save souls; and various forms of tyranny exist in the history of every religion. It is nothing new, it only has a new name, with a new group of people who claim to know the future. Organized tyranny, torture, destruction, were perpetrated in the past by priests in the name of God; and now it is done by dictators and commissars in the name of the State or the party. So our problem is not the word `communism', but the whole question of whether man lives for the sake of society, or whether society exists for the well-being of man. Do religion and government exist to educate man to be free and find out for himself what is true, to help him to be good and to have the vision of greatness? Or do they exist to tyrannize over man, to brutalize and liquidate him because a few have the power to destroy? So it is really a very complex question. What is important is not what you or I think about communism, but to find out why society, whether communistic or democratic, compels the mind to conform, and why the individual submits himself to conformity. Surely, it is only the free mind that can explore - not a mind that is tethered to a book, to an organized religion, or to an ideology. A society that conditions the mind to worship the State, and a society that conditions the mind to worship the idea called God, are equally tyrannous. Now, can there be a society which does help man, the individual, to be good, to be non-greedy, to be free from envy, from ambition? Surely, that is our concern. Man can be good only when he is free, not to do what he likes, but free to understand the whole movement of life. That requires a different kind of school, a different kind of education; it demands parents and teachers who understand all the implications of freedom. Otherwise we shall have more tyranny, not less, because the State demands efficiency. You must be efficient to have an industrialized nation, you must be efficient to fight, to kill, to destroy, and that is the whole pursuit of governments as they exist now. And governments are further separated by the so-called religions. No organized religion dares to break away and say to the government, `You are wrong; on the contrary, they bless the cannons and the battleships. During the last war a book called `God was my Co-Pilot' was written by a man who dropped bombs that killed thousands of people. Of course, here in Madanapalle you are not directly concerned with all that; but surely war is merely an exaggerated expression of our daily life. We are in constant battle with ourselves and with our neighbour; we are ambitious, we want more power, more prestige, the best position; and this acquisitiveness expresses itself through the group, through the nation. We want to be powerful to defend ourselves, or to be aggressive; and so it goes on. What is important, then, is not what you or I think of communism, or democracy, but to find out how to set the mind free; for it is only the free mind that can realize what is truth, what is God; and without that realization, life has very little meaning. It is the realization of truth, or God - the actual experience of it, not the belief in it - that is of the highest importance, especially now when the world is in such chaos and misery. MADANAPALLE 3RD PUBLIC TALK 26TH FEBRUARY 1956 I think most of us find life very dull. To earn a livelihood we have to do a certain job, and it becomes very monotonous; a routine is set going which we follow year after year almost till our death. Whether we are rich or poor, and though we may be very erudite, have a philosophical bent, our lives are for the most part rather shallow, empty. There is obviously an insufficiency in ourselves, and being aware of this emptiness, we try to enrich it through knowledge, or through some kind of social activity, or we escape through various kinds of amusement, or cling to a religious belief. Even if we have a certain capacity and are very efficient, our lives are still pretty dull, and to get away from this dullness, this weary monotony of life, we seek some form of religious enrichment, we try to capture that unworldly state of being which is not routine and which for the moment may be called otherness. In seeking that otherness we find there are many different systems, different ways or paths which are supposed to lead to it, and by disciplining ourselves, by practising a particular system of meditation, by performing some ritual or repeating certain phrases, we hope to achieve that state. Because our daily life is an endless round of sorrow and pleasure, a variety of experiences without much significance, or a meaningless repetition of the same experience, living for most of us is a monotonous routine; therefore the problem of enrichment, of capturing that otherness, call it God, truth, bliss, or what you will, becomes very urgent, does it not? You may be well-off and well-married, you may have children, you may be able to think intelligently and sanely, but without that state of otherness, life becomes extraordinarily empty. So, what is one to do? How is one to capture that state? Or is it not possible to capture it at all? As they are now, our minds are obviously very small, petty, limited, conditioned; and though a small mind may speculate about that otherness, its speculations will always be small. It may formulate an ideal state, conceive and describe that otherness, but its conception will still be within the limitations of the little mind, and I think that is where the clue lies -in seeing that the mind cannot possibly experience that otherness by living it, formulating it, or speculating about it. Surely, that is a tremendous realization: to see that, because it is limited, petty, narrow, superficial, any movement of the mind towards that extraordinary state, is a hindrance. To realize that fact, not speculatively but actually, is the beginning of a different approach to the problem. After all, our minds are the outcome of time, of many thousands of yesterdays, they are the result of experience based on the known; and such a mind is the continuity of the known. The mind of each one of us is the result of culture, of education, and however extensive its knowledge or its technical training, it is still the product of time; therefore it is limited, conditioned. With that mind we try to discover the unknowable; and to realize that such a mind can never discover the unknowable, is really an extraordinary experience. To realize that, however cunning, however subtle, however erudite one's mind may be, it cannot possibly understand that otherness - this realization in itself brings about a certain factual comprehension, and I think it is the beginning of a way of looking at life which may open the door to that otherness. To put the problem differently, the mind is ceaselessly active, chattering, planning, it is capable of extraordinary subtleties and inventions; and how can such a mind be quiet? One can see that any activity of the mind, any movement in any direction, is a reaction of the past; and how can such a mind be still? And if it is made still through discipline, such stillness is a state in which there is no inquiring, no searching, is it not? Therefore there is no openness to the unknown, to that state of otherness. I don't know if you have thought about this problem at all, or have merely thought about it in terms of the traditional approach, which is to have an ideal and to move towards the ideal through a formula, through the practice of a certain discipline. Discipline invariably implies suppression and the conflict of duality, all of which is within the area of the mind, and we proceed along this line, hoping to capture that otherness; but we have never intelligently and sanely inquired whether the mind can ever capture it. We have had the hint that the mind must be still, but stillness has always been cultivated through discipline. That is, we have the ideal of a still mind, and we pursue it through control, through struggle, through effort. Now, if you look at this whole process, you will see that it is all within the field of the known. Being aware of the monotony of its existence, realizing the weariness of its multiplying experiences, the mind is always trying to capture that otherness; but when one sees that the mind is the known, and that whatever movement it makes, it can never capture that otherness, which is the unknown, then our problem is, not how to capture the unknown, but whether the mind can free itself from the known. I think this problem must be considered by anyone who wants to find out if there is a possibility of the coming into being of that otherness, the unknown. So, how can the mind which is the result of the past, of the known, free itself from the known? I hope I am making myself clear. As I said, the present mind, the conscious as well as the unconscious, is the outcome of the past, it is the accumulated result of racial, climatic, dietetic, traditional, and other influences. So the mind is conditioned - conditioned as a Christian, a Buddhist, a Hindu, or a communist - and it obviously projects what it considers to be the real. But whether its projection is that of the communist, who thinks he knows the future and wants to force all mankind into the pattern of his particular Utopia, or that of the so-called religious man, who also thinks he knows the future and educates the child to think along his particular line, neither projection is the real. Without the real, life becomes very dull, as it is at present for most people; and our lives being dull, we become romantic, sentimental, about that otherness, the real. Now, seeing this whole pattern of existence, without going into too many details, is it possible for the mind to free itself from the known - the known being the psychological accumulations of the past? There is also the known of everyday activity, but from this the mind obviously cannot be free; for if one forgot the way to one's house, or the knowledge which enables one to earn a livelihood, one would be bordering on insanity. But can the mind free itself from the psychological factors of the known, which give assurance through association and identification? To inquire into this matter, we shall have to find out whether there is really a difference between the thinker and the thought, between the one who observes and the thing observed. At present there is a division between them, is there not? We think the `I', the entity who experiences, is different from the experience, from the thought. There is a gap, a division between the thinker and the thought, and that is why we say, `I must control thought'. But is the `I', the thinker, different from thought? The thinker is always trying to control thought, mould it according to what he considers to be a good pattern; but is there a thinker if there is no thought? Obviously not. There is only thinking, which creates the thinker. You may put the thinker at any level, you may call him the Supreme, the Atman, or whatever you like; but he is still the result of thinking. The thinker has not created thought; it is thought that has created the thinker. Realizing its own impermanency, thought creates the thinker as a separate entity in order to give itself permanency - which is after all what we all want. You may say that the entity which you call the Atman, the soul, the thinker, is separate from thought, from experience; but you are only aware of a separate entity through thought, and also through your conditioning as a Hindu, a Christian, or whatever it is you happen to be. As long as this duality exists between the thinker and the thought, there must be conflict, effort, which implies will; and a mind that wills to free itself, that says, `I must be free from the past', merely creates another pattern. So, the mind can free itself - and thereby, perhaps, that otherness can come into being - only when there is the cessation of effort as the `I' desiring to achieve a result. But you see, all our life is based on effort: the effort to be good, the effort to discipline ourselves, the effort to achieve a result in this world, or in the next. Everything we do is based on striving, ambition, success, achievement; and so we think that the realization of God, or truth, must also come about through effort. But such effort signifies the self-centred activity of achievement, does it not? It is not the abandonment of the self. Now, if you are aware of this whole process of the mind, the conscious as well as the unconscious, if you really see and understand it, then you will find that the mind becomes extraordinarily quiet without any effort. The stillness which is brought about by discipline, control, suppression, is the stillness of death; but the stillness of which I am speaking comes about effortlessly when one understands this whole process of the mind. Then only is there a possibility of the coming into being of that otherness which may be called truth, or God. Question: Do you not concede that guidance is necessary? If, as you say, there must be no tradition and no authority, then everybody will have to start laying down a new foundation for himself. As the physical body has had a beginning, is there not also a beginning for our spiritual and mental bodies, and should they not grow from each stage to the next higher stage? Just as our thought is kindled by listening to you, does it not need reawakening by getting into contact with the great minds of the past? Krishnamurti: Sir, this is an age-old problem. We think that we need a guru, a teacher, to awaken our minds. Now, what is implied in all that? It implies the one who knows, and the other who does not. Let us proceed slowly, not in a prejudiced manner. The one who knows becomes the authority, and the one who does not know becomes the disciple; and the disciple is everlastingly following, hoping to overtake the other, to come up to the level of the master. Now, please follow this. When the guru says he knows, he ceases to be the guru; the man who says he knows, does not know. Please see why. Because truth, reality, or that otherness, has no fixed point, it obviously cannot be approached by a path, but must be discovered from moment to moment. If it has a fixed point, then that point is within the limits of time. To a fixed point there may be a path, as there is a path to your house; but to a thing that is living, that has no abode, that has neither a beginning nor an end, there can be no path. Surely, a guru who says he will help you to realize, can help you to realize only that which you already know; for what you realize, experience, must be recognizable, must it not? If you can recognize it, then you say, `I have experienced', but what you can recognize is not that otherness. That otherness is not recognizable, it is not known; it is not something which you have experienced and are therefore able to recognize. That otherness is a thing that must be uncovered from moment to moment; and to discover it, the mind must be free. Sir, the mind must be free to discover anything; and a mind that is bound by tradition, whether ancient or modern, a mind that is burdened with belief, with dogma, with rituals, is obviously not free. To me, the idea that another can awaken you, has no validity. This is not an opinion, it is a fact. If another awakens you, then you are under his influence, you are depending on him; therefore you are not free; and it is only the free mind that can find. So the problem is this, is it not? We want that otherness, and since we don't know how to get it, we invariably depend on someone whom we call the teacher, the guru, or on a book, or on our own experience. So dependence is created, and where there is dependence there is authority; therefore the mind becomes a slave to authority, to tradition, and such a mind is obviously not free. It is only the free mind that can find; and to rely on another for the awakening of your mind is like relying on a drug. Of course, you can take a drug that will make you see things very sharply, clearly. There are drugs that can momentarily make life seem much more vital, so that everything stands out brilliantly - the colours that you see every day, and pass by, become extraordinarily beautiful, and so on. That may be your `awakening' of the mind, but then you will be depending on the drug, as now you depend on your guru, or on some sacred book; and the moment the mind becomes dependent, it is made dull. Out of dependence there is fear - fear of not achieving, of not gaining. When you depend on another, whether it be the Saviour or anyone else, it means that the mind is seeking success, a gratifying end. You may call it God, truth, or what you like, but it is still a thing to be gained; so the mind is caught, it becomes a slave, and do what it will - sacrifice, discipline, torture itself - such a mind can never find that otherness. So the problem is not who is the right teacher, but whether the mind can keep itself awake; and you will find it can keep itself awake only when all relationship is a mirror in which it sees itself as it is. But the mind cannot see itself as it is if there is condemnation or justification of that which it sees, or any form of identification. All these things make the mind dull, and being dull, we want to be awakened; so we look to somebody else to awaken us. But by this very demand to be awakened, a dull mind is made still more dull, because it does not see the cause of its dullness. It is only when the mind sees and understands this whole process, and does not depend on the explanation of another, that it is able to free itself. But how easily we are satisfied with words, with explanations! Very few of us break through the barrier of explanations, go beyond words, and find out for ourselves what is true. Capacity comes with application, does it not? But we don't apply ourselves, because we are satisfied with words, with speculations, with the traditional answers and explanations on which we have been brought up. Question: In all religions, prayer is advocated as necessary. What do you say about prayer? Krishnamurti: It is not a matter of what I say about prayer, for then it merely becomes one opinion against another, and opinion has no validity; but what we can do is to find out what the facts are. What do we mean by prayer? One part of prayer is supplication, petition, demand. Being in trouble, in sorrow, and wanting to be comforted, you pray. You are confused, and you want clarity. Books don't satisfy you, the guru does not give you what you want, so you pray; that is, you either silently supplicate, or you verbally repeat certain phrases. Now, if you keep on repeating certain words or phrases, you will find that the mind becomes very quiet. It is an obvious psychological fact that quietness of the superficial mind is induced by repetition. And then what happens? The unconscious may have an answer to the problem which is agitating the superficial mind. When the superficial mind becomes quiet, the unconscious is able to intimate its solution, and then we say, `God has answered me'. It is really fantastic, when you come to think of it, for the petty little mind, being caught in sorrow which it has brought upon itself, to expect an answer from that otherness, the immeasurable, the unknown. But our petition is answered, we have found a solution, and we are satisfied. That is one form of prayer, is it not? Now, do you ever pray when you are happy? When you are aware of the smiles and the tears of those about you; when you see the lovely skies, the mountains, the rich fields, and the swift movement of the birds; when there is joy and delight in your heart, do you indulge in what you call prayer? Obviously not. And yet, to see the beauty of the earth, to be cognizant of starvation and misery, to be aware of everything that is happening about us -surely, this is also a form of prayer. Perhaps this has much more significance, a far greater value, for it may sweep away the cobwebs of memory, of revenge, all the accumulated stupidities of the `I'. But a mind that is preoccupied with itself and its designs, that is caught up in its beliefs, its dogmas, its fears and jealousies, its ambition, greed, envy - such a mind cannot possibly be aware of this extraordinary thing called life. It is bound by its own self-centred activity; and when such a mind prays, whether it be for a refrigerator, or to have its problems solved, it is still petty, even though it may receive an answer. All this brings up the question of what is meditation, does it not? Obviously, there must be meditation. Meditation is an extraordinary thing, but most of us don't know what it means to meditate; we are only concerned with how to meditate, with practising a method or a system through which we hope to get something, to realize what we call peace, or God. We are never concerned to find out what is meditation, and who is the meditator; but if we begin to inquire into what is meditation, then perhaps we shall find out how to meditate. The inquiry into meditation, is meditation. But to inquire into meditation, you cannot be tethered to any system, because then your inquiry is conditioned by the system. To really probe into this whole problem of what is meditation, all systems must go. Only a free mind can explore; and the very process of freeing the mind to explore, is meditation. Question: The thought of death is bearable to me only if I can believe in a future lives. but you say that belief is an obstacle to understanding. Please help me to see the truth of this. Krishnamurti: Belief in a future life is the result of one's desire for comfort. Whether or not there is a future life in reality can be found out only when the mind is not desirous of being comforted by a belief. If I am in sorrow because my son has died, and to overcome that sorrow I believe in reincarnation, in eternal life, or what you will, then belief becomes a necessity to me; and such a mind can obviously never find out what death is, because all it is concerned with is to have a hope, a comfort, a reassurance. Now, whether or not there is continuity after death, is quite a different problem. One sees that the body comes to an end; through constant use, the physical organism wears out. Then what is it that continues? It is the accumulated experience, the knowledge, the name, the memories, the identification of thought as the `me'. But you are not satisfied with that; you say there must be another form of continuance as the permanent soul, the Atman. If there is this Atman which continues, it is the creation of thought, and the thought which has created the Atman is still part of time; therefore it is not spiritual. If you really go into this matter, you will see there is only thought identified as the `me' - my house, my wife, my family, my virtue, my failure, my success, and all the rest of it - , and you want that to continue. You say, "I want to finish my book before I die", or, "I want to perfect the qualities I have been trying to develop; and what is the point of my having struggled all these years to achieve something if in the end there is annihilation?" So the mind, which is the product of the known, wants to continue in the future; and because there is the uncertainty which we call death, we are frightened and want reassurance. Now, I think the problem should be approached differently, which is to find out for oneself whether it is possible, while living, to experience that state of ending which we call death. This does not mean committing suicide; but it is to actually experience that astonishing state, that sacred moment of dying to everything of yesterday. After all, death is the unknown, and no amount of rationalization, no belief or disbelief, will ever bring about that extraordinary experience. To have that inward fullness of life, which includes death, the mind must free itself from the known. The known must cease for the unknown to be. February 26, 1956 BOMBAY 1ST PUBLIC TALK 4TH MARCH 1956 I think it is important to understand that freedom is at the beginning and not at the end. We think freedom is something to be achieved, that liberation is an ideal state of mind to be gradually attained through time, through various practices; but to me, this is a totally wrong approach. Freedom is not to be achieved; liberation is not a thing to be gained. Freedom, or liberation, is that state of mind which is essential for the discovery of any truth, any reality, therefore it cannot be an ideal; it must exist right from the beginning. Without freedom at the beginning, there can be no moments of direct understanding, because all thinking is then limited, conditioned. If your mind is tethered to any conclusion, to any experience, to any form of knowledge or belief, it is not free; and such a mind cannot possibly perceive what is truth. This is something that must be felt and realized immediately, not endlessly argued about, for it is a fact. How can a mind which is crippled, held by a belief, by a dogma, or by its own knowledge and experiences, ever have the capacity to explore and to discover? So freedom is essential to discover what is truth; and it is only the individual who is not merely the result of the collective, that can be free. For the mind to be capable of freedom, there must obviously be application - the application which comes through attention; and that is what I would like to discuss this evening. It is essential, I think, to find out how to listen, because in the very act of listening there is clarification. There is immediate clarification, not through argumentation or comparative knowledge, but when there is complete listening. It is very difficult to listen completely, because our full attention is not there; but it is only when we listen completely to something that there is immediate understanding. Now, if you observe your own mind as you are sitting here, you will notice that you are listening through various screens - the screen of what you know, of what you have heard or read, the screen of your own experiences - and these screens actually prevent listening. You never really listen, you are always interpreting what you hear according to your background, your prejudices, according to the conclusions you have arrived at; therefore there is no listening. And there is immediate transformation only when one listens completely, which is not to allow the things that one has learnt to come between. To listen completely is not to judge, not to evaluate, so that your whole being is attentive; and when you are listening in that way, you will find there is immediate clarification. Such clarification is timeless freedom, liberation. It seems to me that we must differentiate between learning and being taught. Most of you, I am pretty sure, are here to listen to somebody who you think will teach you something; so your approach to the speaker is that of an individual who expects to be taught by a teacher. But I do not believe that there is any teaching; there is only learning, and this is very important to understand. When the individual who is listening regards the speaker as one who is teaching him something, such an attitude creates and maintains the division of the pupil and the master, of the one who knows and the one who does not know. But there is only learning; and I think it is very important from the very beginning to understand this, and to establish the right relationship between us. The man who says he knows, does not know; the man who says he has attained liberation, has not realized. If you think you are going to learn something from me which I know and you do not know, then you become a follower; and he who follows will never find out what is truth. That is why it is very important for you to understand this. A man can have knowledge only about things known, he cannot have knowledge about the unknown. The unknown comes into being from moment to moment, it is not to be gathered, accumulated; being timeless, it cannot be stored up and used. The guru, the so-called teacher, who asserts he knows, can only know the things he has experienced; and what he has experienced is conditioned, is of time, therefore it is not true. So it is essential, if you and I would understand each other, to establish the right relationship between us from the very beginning. You are not listening in order to be taught by me; you are listening to learn. Life is a process of learning; but there can be no learning as long as the mind is accumulating. How can you learn if the mind is concerned with accumulating, and with using what is newly acquired to further its accumulation? Please follow this, sirs. When we say, `I must learn', we mean that, in the process of learning, we will store up what is learned in order to know more, do we not? Such learning is essential in the acquisition of technical knowledge. If you want to build a bridge, you must accumulate the required knowledge; if you are a scientist, you must know the previous experiments and discoveries of other scientists. That kind of knowledge is essential for the physical wellbeing of man. But I am not talking of knowledge in that sense. Even in science you don't worship or follow anyone; you follow facts, not individuals. The very process of experimentation in science brings its own discoveries. If you are a great scientist, you have no one to lead you to discovery in experimentation; you are constantly investigating, discarding, exploring, inquiring to find out. But we never do that with regard to the inward, religious life -which is much more important than the mere discovery of scientific facts; because scientific facts can be distorted and used by a mind that is self-centred, that is concerned with itself and its own progress. What we are concerned with here is the understanding of what is truth, which is the religious life, the good life. If you are merely being taught by a person who asserts he knows, or whom you regard as having achieved something, you are creating a division between yourself and that person; there is always the teacher and the disciple, with the teacher progressing upward, and the pupil following. A state of inequality exists; and such inequality in spiritual matters is unspiritual, immoral, because when you become a follower, you destroy yourself. Please understand this very simple truth: that as long as you are following another, it does not matter who it is, you will never find the eternal, that otherness which is beyond the mind. So there must be freedom right from the beginning - freedom, not to choose your various gurus, which is not freedom, but freedom to investigate, which means there can be no following. Therefore there is no guru, no teacher, no sacred book. To be capable of finding out what is true, the mind must be free; and the mind is not free when it is burdened with accumulated knowledge, with its own experiences. Learning is a process of constantly discarding that which is being accumulated, of discarding in order to discover. A mind which has committed itself to the Gita, to the Koran, to the Bible, or to some belief, can never learn, it can only follow; and it follows because it wants security. As long as the mind desires to be permanently secure, undisturbed, as long as it is seeking its own perpetuation through a belief, it is obviously incapable of finding out what is God, what is truth. The mind can learn only when it renounces, that is, when it constantly denudes itself of what it is learning. If learning is merely additive, then there is no learning, please see this fact. As long as the mind is accumulating gathering, how can it learn, since what it learns will always be translated according to what it has already gathered? Where there is accumulation, there can never be the movement of learning; for it is only when the mind is free to explore, that it can learn. If the mind really sees this fact, not argumentatively, verbally, or so-called intellectually, but deeply and truly, then such a mind is capable of finding that which may be called bliss, truth, God, or what you will. So it seems to me very important that you should understand right from the beginning of these talks that I am not teaching you anything, otherwise we shall be moving in opposite directions. I know literally nothing, except such things as how to drive a car, how to write letters, and so on. Therefore, being in a state of not-knowing, the mind is capable of complete investigation. A mind that knows, cannot investigate; and only a mind that is free from the known can find the unknown. These talks are not meant to guide you, to tell you what to do, but rather to liberate the mind so that it will find out for itself what to do, and not follow anyone. This means breaking down tradition, discarding the whole idea of worshipping somebody in order to find God. We are brought up on the notion that the guru is essential because he knows and will tell us what to do; we are soaked in that tradition, and it must be cut away immediately if we are to understand all this. You see, we are frightened not to have leaders, because we are so confused; and when we act out of our confusion, the confusion is increased. But this confusion can only be cleared up by each one of us, and that is why it is so important for the individual to understand himself. With the understanding of oneself, there comes an action which is not confused or confusing. So self-knowledge is essential - but not the kind taught in books, for that is not self-knowledge at all; it is merely vain repetition. What has value is not to assume anything - that you are the Atman, the Paramatman, and so on - but to discover in your relationships from day to day, what you actually are, which is to learn about yourself. But you cannot learn about yourself if you have stored up what you learned yesterday, because then you compare yesterday with today, and this comparison destroys further discovery. Self-knowledge is a living thing, not the accumulated debris of yesterday's gathering. If one really sees this thing, how extraordinarily simple it is! And the mind must be simple, innocent, in the sense that it has no accumulations of yesterday. It is only such a mind that can discover the significance of this whole process of living, which is now so chaotic, miserable, violent. That is why it is essential to understand, from the very beginning, that life is not a school in which there is a teacher and the taught. The significance of life is to be found in living; but the moment you accumulate, you are dead, like a pool of stagnant water. So it is essential for the mind to be like the living waters of the river, ever moving on, which means that there must be freedom at the very beginning. Before we consider together some of these questions, let us again understand our intent. I am not answering these questions, for there is no answer. Please understand this, otherwise you will be wasting your time in listening to what I am saying. There is no answer, there is only the unfolding of the problem, and therefore the beauty of the discovery of the truth in the problem. A mind that is searching for an answer will never investigate the problem, because it is occupied with the answer; and it is very difficult for the mind not to be occupied with the answer, because it longs to be satisfied. Most of us want a pleasant and easy answer to our problems. But here we are not answering, we are unrolling the problem, uncovering all its facets, its subtleties, discerning the extraordinary thing that lies behind the problem. After all, the mind is our only instrument of perception, and when it is occupied with an answer, it has blocked itself. The mind that is concerned with a result, a conclusion, hinders its own action, its own living; it is enclosed by the walls of its own arguments, its own determined efforts. So, please bear in mind that I am not answering these questions. We are together trying to find out the truth of the problem, not the answer; because the mind wants to be satisfied, it wants a convenient and agreeable answer, and such an answer is not truth. Question: After having listened eagerly to you for so many years, we find ourselves exactly where we were. Is this all we can expect? Krishnamurti: The difficulty in this problem is that we want a result to convince ourselves that we have progressed, that we have been transformed. We want to know that we have arrived; and a man who has arrived, a man who has listened and got a result, has obviously not listened at all. (Laughter). Sirs, this is not a clever answer. The questioner says he has listened for many years. Now, has he listened with complete attention, or has he listened in order to arrive somewhere and be conscious of his arrival? It is like the man who practices humility. Can humility be practised? Surely, to be conscious that you are humble, is not to be humble. You want to know that you have arrived. This indicates, does it not?, that you are listening in order to achieve a particular state, a place where you will never be disturbed, where you will find everlasting happiness, permanent bliss. But as I said previously, there is no arriving, there is only the movement of learning - and that is the beauty of life. If you have arrived, there is nothing more. And all of you have arrived, or you want to arrive, not only in your business, but in everything you do; so you are dissatisfied, frustrated, miserable. Sirs, there is no place at which to arrive, there is just this movement of learning which becomes painful only when there is accumulation. A mind that listens with complete attention, will never look for a result because it is constantly unfolding; like a river, it is always in movement. Such a mind is totally unconscious of its own activity, in the sense that there is no perpetuation of a self, of a `me', which is seeking to achieve an end. Question: In every direction, inwardly as well as outwardly, we see incitement to violence. Hatred, ill will, meanness and aggression, are rampant, not only in India, but in every corner of the world, and in the very psyche of man. What is your answer to this crisis? Krishnamurti: This problem, like every other human problem, is very complex. There is no `yes' or `no' answer. Why are we violent as individuals, and therefore as a group, as a nation? Look what has happened recently in this town. Why are we violent, and over what? Whether you call yourself a Gujarathi or a Maharashtrian, who cares? What's in a name? But behind the name lie all the pent-up prejudices, the narrow, stupid, isolating provincialism; and overnight you hate, you knife your neighbour with words and with steel. Why do we do this? Why are we, as a group of Hindus, opposed to Christians; and why are the Germans or the Americans, as a group, opposed to some other group? Why are we like this? You and I can invent excuses and explanations by the score, and the cleverer we are, the more argumentative our explanations. But apart from explanations, do you know you are like this? Are you aware that you will suddenly turn on your neighbour over a division of land on the map, because certain politicians are eager to get more power, and you are eager to support them because you also are seeking power? Why are you like this? The Moslems and the Hindus are mutually opposed. Why? And are you aware of this in yourself? Is it not important to know that you are like this, and not idealistically pretend to be non-violent, and all that nonsense? The actual fact is that you are violent; and I think the problem is that you do not realize you are violent, because you are always pretending to be non-violent. You have been brought up, bred, nurtured on the ideal of non-violence; but the ideal is phoney, it does not exist at all. What exists is what you are, which is violent, and the gap between the ideal and the fact creates this hypocritical dual existence which is one of our misfortunes in this country. You are all such idealistic persons, always talking about nonviolence and butchering your neighbour. (Laughter). Sirs, don't laugh, it is not funny. These are facts. Do you mean to say you would tolerate the poverty, the degradation, the horrors that exist in every town and village in India, if you were really merciful? You are not merciful and compassionate actually, only theoretically, and that is why you live double lives. The fact is much more important than what should be. The fact is that you are violent, and you refuse to face that fact because you say you must not be like that; you decry violence, you push it away, but it is still there. When you recognize the fact that you are violent instead of pursuing the ideal of non-violence, which does not exist, only then can you deal with violence. Then your attention is not diverted, it is given wholly to understanding violence, and therefore you can do something about it; you can concern yourself attentively, diligently, with the fact of violence, ill will, meanness, cruelty. That is why it is very important that the ideal should be put away, abolished completely. You all know that cruelty is going on in every part of this country, cruelty not only to the neighbour, to the villager, but also to the animals. If you realized the falseness of the ideal, do you mean to say you could not face that fact and put a stop to it? Then you would be a different people altogether, you would bring into being a different culture, a different society, you would not be imitative of the West; you would be something real, and reality is original, not imitative. But you cannot see the original, the real, as long as your attention is diverted by the ideal. The ideal has no significance; what has significance is the fact. Through the ideal you hope to get rid of the fact, but it cannot be done, and I think this is again very important to understand. The mind that pursues an ideal is an unreal mind, it is a mind that escapes, that avoids the fact. But to face the fact is very difficult for a mind that has been trained for centuries to accept the ideal as something worthwhile. You practise non-violence, Ahimsa, and all the rest of it - which to me is utter nonsense, because it is not a fact. The fact is that you are violent, it is being proved over and over again, which means you have no compassion; and you cannot have compassion as an ideal. Either you are compassionate, or you are not. Violence exists in the world because it exists in your heart, and to reject violence should be your only concern, not to pursue the ideal of non-violence. To reject violence, you must apply your attention to it in everyday life, you must be aware of it in your words, in your gestures, in the way you talk to your servants, to your neighbours, to your wife and children. Your violence indicates that you have no love, and that is a fact. If you can look at the fact, then that very looking will transform, will do something to the fact. Question: Granted that religion is of the highest importance in life, will not the truly religious person be concerned with the plight of his fellow man? Krishnamurti: It all depends on whom you call a religious person, and what you mean by being concerned. Please follow this, sirs. Should the religious man be occupied with social reform? What is actually happening in the world? The so-called religious person is concerned with the misery, the troubles, the poverty of his fellow man, which is called social reform. This is happening here in India, and elsewhere. Now, as we know, production is on the increase, and it is fairly certain that in 50 or 100 years we are all going to have enough food, clothing and housing; because, the communists are aiming at that in their own brutal, tyrannical way, and the capitalists are also aiming at it for their own purposes. We are all working to lessen poverty and bring about more production through increased efficiency, mechanical inventions, and so on. All this is happening, and will happen more extensively, as it should. But what is of first importance, surely, is to see poverty, to see degradation, to see how man treats man, which is something appalling - and to feel it, not ask what to do about it. What to do about it will come later. But most of us lose the love for man in the action of doing something to reform man. This reformation is going to take place through communism, with its disruptive elements, through socialism, through capitalism, and through the constant pressure of the poverty-ridden countries on those that are rich. That very pressure is going to bring about change, revolution. Now, the problem is, who is a religious man? And should a religious man be concerned with this social reformation, which is a matter of doing away with poverty and bringing about an equitable distribution of worldly goods? It is obviously essential to do away with poverty, to have good health, sufficient food, adequate houses to live in, and all the rest of it; and this is going to take place through legislation, through pressure, through mass production, and so on. But what do we mean by a religious man? Surely, a religious man is one who is helping to free the individual, and himself, from all the cruelty and suffering in life - which means that he is free from all belief. He has no authority, he does not follow anyone, because he is a light unto himself; and that light arises from self-knowledge, it is the liberation that comes into being when the individual completely understands himself. The religious man is one who is creative, not in the sense of painting pictures or writing poetry, but there is in him a creativity which is everlasting, timeless. Now, will that religious man, who is discovering from moment to moment, be occupied with social reform? Or will he remain outside of society, and help the individual who is caught in its ceaseless struggle? Surely, the truly religious man is outside of society because for him there is no authority. He is not seeking a result, therefore results happen in spite of him; and such a man is not concerned with social reform. Mind you, social reform is essential. But there are many people who are active in social reform; and why are they? Is it out of love? Or is that particular activity, which is called social reform, a means of their own self-fulfilment? To be aware of the beggar in the street, to see the appalling poverty and degradation in the villages, and to feel it, to have love, compassion for the beggar, for the villager, is not to fulfil yourself in the activity of social reform, though you may be socially active. But when you become important in social work, is it not because you are fulfilling yourself through that action? When you do that, you cease to love; and to love, to have compassion, to be sensitive to beauty and to ugliness, is far more important than to fulfil yourself in some tawdry work which you call social reform. So it is the religious man who is the real revolutionary, not he who seeks to bring about a revolution in the economic sense. The religious man has no authority, he is not greedy, ambitious, he is not seeking a result, he is not a politician; therefore it is only the religious man who can bring about the right kind of reformation. That is why it is important for all of us, not as groups, but as individuals, to liberate ourselves immediately from beliefs and dogmas, from greed and ambition. Then you will find that the mind becomes astonishingly alive; and such a man is a reformer in an entirely different sense, his action has a totally different significance, because he helps to free the mind to find out, to be creative. The mind that is occupied can never be creative; the mind that is concerned with fulfilling itself can never find the unknown. Only the mind that is completely unoccupied can discover and comprehend the eternal, and such a mind will produce its own action on society. March 4, 1956 BOMBAY 2ND PUBLIC TALK 7TH MARCH 1956 We were discussing last Sunday the question of the individual's freeing himself from all the limitations imposed upon him by society, and from the conditioning of religion; because, it is only when he is free from his conditioning that the individual can be creative. I mean by creativeness the instant of being liberated from time, which is the only state that can bring about the right kind of social transformation and the total well-being of man. I do not think we realize the full significance of individual freedom from the collective, nor do we see its importance. And is it possible for the individual to emerge from the collective? After all, though we have different names, private bank-accounts, separate houses, distinctive personal qualities, and so on, we are really not individuals, we are merely the result of the collective. Century upon century of traditional values, of beliefs and dogmas, either conscious or stored away in the unconscious, guide our path and compel the mind, which we think is an individual. But the mind is a result of the totality of these compulsions, these urges and desires, and though a separate name is given to it as Mr. X., it has no real individuality; and I do not think we realize how essential it is that the individual should emerge from this total conditioning of man. It is in the instant of being liberated from the collective that there is the creative individual, and the releasing of this creativity is the fundamental issue, because it is only then that one can find out if there is a timeless reality, a state which may be called God. Mere assertion that there is or is not such a state, has no value at all; what has value is direct experience uncontaminated by the past. As I was explaining last time we met, liberation must be at the beginning, not at the end. Freedom must come first, not last, and there can be freedom only when the mind begins right at the start to liberate itself from its own conditioning. So it is important for each one of us to bring about that freedom in ourselves, and to demand it for our children through right education, and so on, which is what I would like to discuss this evening. Now, we are obviously not free as long as we are following another. There must be freedom from the teacher, from the guru, which implies, does it not?, that one must become a light unto oneself, and not depend for that light on anyone. And can we really experience the unburdening of the mind, the freeing of the mind from the leader, from the teacher, from the guru? Can we actually experience that state as we are discussing it now, so that the mind does not depend upon another for its guidance? All your so-called religious teachings create an ideal which you follow, and which again is another form of teacher. And surely, this total freedom from the concept of a leader, a teacher, from following in any form, is essential; because, following a teacher implies the accumulation of knowledge, and there can be liberation only when there is the total renunciation of knowledge. After all, it is knowledge that we are actually seeking in everyday life, is it not? We want knowledge to do things, knowledge to act, knowledge which will guide us towards the goal, towards success, achievement; and that very knowledge becomes the binding factor. Now, can the mind free itself from knowledge? I think this is an important question to consider, so let us investigate and not brush it aside as impossible, or merely assert that it can be done. All following implies the accumulation of knowledge, does it not? And where there is the accumulation of knowledge, there must be imitation. After all, when you are asked a familiar question, your response is immediate. When you are asked where you live, what is your job, your name, and so on, memory responds instantaneously because you are familiar with all that. But if a more complex question is asked, there is hesitation, which implies that the mind is searching in the storehouse of memory for the correct answer. And if a question is asked of which you know practically nothing at all, you refer to a book, or search more deeply in that part of consciousness which is memory. So you are always being guided by memory. Memory must exist, otherwise you would not know how to get back to your house, how to do your job, how to build a bridge, and so on. We learn a multitude of necessary things, and obviously such knowledge is not to be forgotten. But I am talking of a totally different kind of knowledge - the knowledge that the psyche accumulates in order to guard itself in the future and achieve whatever it wants to achieve psychologically, spiritually. It is this knowledge that makes us self-centred, because the mind uses it as a means to its own continuity, which is the expansion of the `me', and it is this knowledge that must be totally renounced. That is the only real renunciation - not giving up a little property, a house, or a bit of land, and putting on a loincloth. So there is this accumulated knowledge on which the psyche builds and sustains itself; and can the mind, which is a result of the past, renounce all that? Surely, until the mind puts all that aside, it can never find out what is new, it can never know that instant of timelessness which is creativity. You see, what we need in this world is not more physicists, scientists, engineers, bureaucrats, politicians, but individuals who have felt this creativity, for they are the truly religious people - which means that they do not belong to any society, to any group, to any classification. That is why it is very important to understand this whole process of the accumulation of knowledge, by which I mean identification and the sense of evaluation. Can the mind be free to observe without evaluation, without judgment? Surely, its evaluations, its comparisons, its condemnations, are all based on knowledge, and such a mind is incapable of understanding what is true. If you observe the process of your own thinking, you will see that the mind is only concerned with accumulating more and more knowledge, and therefore there is never a moment of freedom to explore; and I think it is important to understand, which is actually to experience on the instant, this state of freedom without the continuity of the past, and not merely assert that the mind can or cannot be free. This will be fairly simple if we can listen to exactly what is being said; because it is a thing to be experienced, to be felt, and not to be argued about. After all, the mind is the result of the past, of many yesterdays, which is fairly obvious; it is the residue of the known - the known being the experienced, the word, the symbol, the name, the whole process of recognition. Surely, such a mind is incapable of discovering or experiencing the unknown. It can speculate, but its speculation will be based on the known, on what it has read. The mind can experience that state only when knowledge - by which I mean the memory of the many experiences, the whole process of recognition which is the self, the `me' - has come to an end. Now, if you can not only listen to what is being said, but actually put aside everything you have known - the conclusions, the evaluations, the determinations, the ideals - , then you will find that there comes a state which has no continuity as memory, but which on the instant is the totality of being. It is this moment that is the highest, the supreme, and that must be experienced; but it can be experienced only when the mind is completely still through understanding the totality of its own structure. It is through self-knowledge that there is quiescence of the mind, not through discipline, not through compulsion; and in that total stillness you will find there is a moment unrelated to the past, an instant in which all creation takes place. It is this creativity that is essential, for it releases the mind from the collective, and makes for individuality. The collective is the mind which is conditioned by society, by innumerable influences, by the values and beliefs which the multitude hold and the few discard, only to add another belief. Seeing all this, is it possible for the mind, without effort, to renounce the past? Until it does, there must be the following of tradition, whether it is the tradition of yesterday, or of a thousand yesterdays; and a mind that follows tradition is imitative, it is dependent on a teacher, and therefore it maintains inequality, not only at the physical level, but at the psychological level as well. To such a mind, creativity is merely a word without any significance. To bring about a different state, a different culture, a different way of life, there must be the release of the individual, of this inner creativity, which will then produce its own society, its own values. Question: Day follows day in this futile journey of existence. What does it all mean? Has life any significance? Krishnamurti: Most of us ask this question, do we not? Most of us are confused; and when we ask if life has any significance, we want to be assured that it has, or we want to be told the purpose, the goal of life. Now, has life a goal, a purpose? And what is the state of the mind that asks such a question? Surely, this is much more important to find out than if life has significance. After all, what is life? Can it be comprehended by the mind? Life is sorrow and joy, the smiles, the tears, and the endless struggle; it is the extraordinary depth and beauty of everything and of nothing. Life is immense, it cannot be comprehended by a little mind; and it is the little mind that asks this question. Because the little mind is confused, as most of us are, it wants to know what is the purpose of life. Being confused politically, economically, and also spiritually, inwardly, we want a directive, we want to be told what to do; and when we ask, the answer we receive is invariably confused, because the confused mind projects or translates the answer. So the question is not what is the purpose, the significance of life - because you cannot hold the wind in your fist, nor put the vastness of life in a frame and worship it. But what you can do is to see the state of confusion you are in, and find out how to tackle it. Once we understand our own confusion, we shall never ask what is the significance of life, for then we shall be living, we shall not be bound by the tyrannical pattern of a particular society, whether communist or capitalist; and that very living will find its own answer. A confused mind seeking clarity will only find further confusion. That is so, is it not? If I am confused and I seek a way, a directive, the way or the directive will also be confused. It is only a clear mind that can find the way, if there is a way - not a confused mind. Surely, that much is simple and obvious. Now, if I realize that it is futile to seek a directive as long as I am confused, will I go on seeking it? Or will I refuse to go to anybody to ask for a directive, because I see that my choice of a guru, of a politician, of a book, or of certain values, being based on my own confusion, must also be confused? So I think it is essential to realize the totality of one's own confusion, not theoretically, but as an actual experience. The fact is that you are confused, only you are frightened to acknowledge it; you are nervous, apprehensive, because if you admit you are confused, you will not know what to do; so you get carried away by immediate action. But if you become aware of the totality of your own confusion, what happens? Knowing that any movement of a confused mind can only create further confusion, don't you stop? Then all seeking ceases; and when a confused mind ceases to seek, confusion also ceases, and there is a new beginning. It is quite simple; but the difficulty is to acknowledge to oneself that one is confused. So, are you experiencing, actually and not merely verbally, this state of confusion in which you are caught? If you are, then you will not ask anybody what the significance of life is. If you really see your own confusion, actually experience it as a fact, a reality, you are bound to stop asking, demanding, searching; and that very act of stopping is the beginning of an entirely new kind of inquiry. Then the mind will discover the extraordinary significance of life without being told. At present we want to be led out of our confusion by another; but no one can lead us out of our confusion. As long as choice exists, there must be confusion. Choice indicates confusion; yet we are very proud of that choice, which we call free will. It is only the mind that does not choose, but sees directly without interpretation, without being influenced - it is only such a mind that is not confused, and can therefore proceed to discover and explore the unknowable. Question: Is there any way to build good will? Can you tell us how to live together in peace rather than in this bitter antagonism that exists between us? Krishnamurti: Surely, peace and good will are very difficult to build. You may construct a bridge, or work in an office together, because you have a boss over you, somebody to tell you what to do; but real co-operation cannot be compelled, nor does it come into being by following the blueprint laid down by an architect. Peace and good will can be built only when we feel that this earth is ours - not that of the communists, the socialists, or the capitalists, but yours and mine. It is our earth to enrich, to share together, and not to divide nationalistically, racially, or according to the beliefs, the creeds and dogma; of the various organized religions. Please listen to all this, sins, it is not just a tirade of words. If you really want to build good will and live together in peace, you must remove all class differences and religious barriers - the barriers of dogma, tradition, and belief. You cannot look to government legislation to bring about this peace of good will, because the peace of the politicians is not the same as that of a religious man; they are two entirely different things. It is a matter of actually feeling peace and good will every day, of being really good, and not being ashamed of that word, and of not getting caught in organizations which are supposed to bring peace, but which in fact destroy it through the pursuit of their own vested interests. When there is this feeling of peace and good will within each one of us, it will create its own word. But unfortunately, most of us are not concerned with building this feeling together. What brings us together mostly is not love, not sympathy, not compassion, but hatred - identifying ourselves with one group in opposition to another. When our particular group is threatened by another in what is called war, it brings us together; and we separate again when the threat is over - which is being proven from day to day. So what is necessary is not the ideal of peace and good will, but the actual facing of the fact that you are violent. When you call yourselves Maharashtrians, Gujarathis, or who knows what else, you are violent, because you have separated yourselves with a word; and that word stimulates antagonism, it builds a barrier between you and somebody else. But we are all human beings with essentially the same troubles, worries, miseries, suffering; and what matters, surely, is to realize this obvious fact, to put away easily, happily, our nationalism, our petty little organizations and communities, and be simply human. But most of us would rather spend our days speculating about God, discussing the Gita, and all the rest of that stuff learnt from books, which has no meaning at all; therefore our antagonism continues. What has meaning is relationship; and if together we would build peace and good will, we must cease to be merely idealistic, and actually shed the absurd stupidities of nationalism, provincialism, strip ourselves of beliefs and vanities, and begin anew, freely and happily. This is not a talk, or an answer, to encourage you to do these things. An intelligent man will act out of his own understanding. It is only the stupid man who seeks encouragement; and if he is encouraged, he will still be stupid. But if he knows he is stupid, then he can do something about it. If he is aware of his own pettiness, jealousy, violence, and sees that to pursue ideals is another form of stupidity, then he can bring about a transformation in himself. If I know I am arrogant, I can deal with it, or not, as the case may be. But the man who is arrogant and pretends to be humble, or who pursues the ideal of humility, is stupid, because he is escaping from the fact into unreality. Non-arrogance is an unreal state for the man who is arrogant; but we are brought up with this division in ourselves of the fact and the ideal, and therefore we are hypocritical. Whereas, to know that one is arrogant, and to face that fact, is the beginning of the end of arrogance. In the same way, if we really wish to build peace and good will together, there must be love - not the ideal love, but just love, kindliness, compassion, which means breaking away from a particular community and shedding all our national, racial, and religious prejudices. We are human beings, living together on this earth, this earth which is ours; and to feel the truth of that, one must be extraordinarily humble. To feel anything deeply, there must be humility; but humility ceases when we are pursuing the ideal. Question: You say that, do what we will, the state of reality can never come into being through our own efforts, and that even the desire for it is a hindrance. Then what can we do which will not create an obstacle? Krishnamurti: Now, you are not listening to me, and I am not replying; but together let us inquire into this problem. The problem is, how can we experience the real, the unknown, if the mind cannot capture it through its own effort, striving? So we have to understand the mind, and why we make effort. If we did not make effort at the physical level, we would not survive. If there were not the effort of working at a job, eating the right kind of food, taking exercise, and so on, the body would disintegrate. That is an obvious fact. So we make effort in order to survive physically. Now, similarly, we make effort in order to survive psychologically; that is, in order to achieve what we call reality. We think that reality is a state to be attained through discipline, control, suppression, through various forms of compulsion, and we force the mind to conform to a pattern in the hope of arriving at that state. All this implies, does it not?, that the mind is continually seeking security; being afraid of uncertainty, it wants to find certainty - a certainty which is permanent, and which it calls reality, God, truth, or what you will. That is what most of us are concerned with. We want a state in which there will be no disturbance of any kind, and which will never come to an end, a permanent state which we call peace; and the mind is making a constant effort to capture that state, to enter into it. So we have to understand the process that is involved in this effort. As I said, just as we make effort to survive physically, so also we make effort to continue as the `me'. Do you understand? As long as I want to survive spiritually, I must make an effort towards the attainment of that which I call reality. Now, what is the `me' which is making this effort? What are you? Surely, you are a name attached to a bundle of memories, experiences; you are an accumulation of hidden motives and outward pursuits, of various qualities, passions, fears, virtues. All that is the `you', is it not? And that `you', you want to continue in a direction which will lead to reality; so you make an effort, you meditate, you practise some form of discipline. Surely, only when the mind ceases to make this effort and is completely still without being induced or compelled to be still; only when it does not want anything, and is therefore not seeking any experience - only then is there a possibility of the coming into being of the unknown. The mind, after all, is the result of the known, and any effort which the mind makes must be within the field of the known; therefore it cannot make an effort towards the unknown. No movement in the field of the known can ever lead to the unknown. This again is very simple and clear. The mind is still only when it has totally renounced the known; in that stillness there is no effort, and only then is it possible for the unknown to come into being. BOMBAY 3RD PUBLIC TALK 11TH MARCH 1956 One of our great difficulties in communicating with each other is to understand the content, the intention of the words we employ, is it not? The depth of our words depends, surely, on the way we think, feel, and act. If we speak the word superficially, or if the word is merely an abstraction, it has very little significance; whereas, if the word is not merely an abstraction, but has a referent which we both understand, a referent which we have established together with balance, with sanity, with clarity, then there is a possibility of communicating with each other, and a meeting of this kind will be useful. But the difficulty generally is that you have a certain referent, while I have quite another; or I may be speaking merely abstractly, and have no referent at all; therefore communication, a deep exchange of thought between us, becomes almost impossible. So it seems to me very important, in a meeting of this kind, to communicate on the same level, at the same time; and such communication can take place only when we both understand the full content of the words we use. Understanding, surely, is instantaneous; it is not tomorrow, or after you have heard the talk. To understand each other, I think it is necessary that we should not be caught in words; because, a word like `God', for example, may have a particular meaning for you, while for me it may represent a totally different formulation, or no formulation at all. So it is almost impossible to communicate with each other unless both of us have the intention of understanding and going beyond mere words. The word `freedom' generally implies being free from something, does it not? It ordinarily means being free from greed, from envy, from nationalism, from anger, from this or that. Whereas, freedom may have quite another meaning, which is a sense of being free, not from anything, but the realization of the fact of being free; and I think it is very important to understand this meaning. Most of us are not familiar with the feeling of being free, and it seems to me that we have to become familiar with it, we have to get acquainted with that feeling; because throughout the world, tyranny is spreading. Whether under the guise of fascism, communism, socialism, or what you will, society is being more and more organized to fit a blueprint, a five-year plan, or a ten-year plan, which means that there must be an executive body vested with the authority to carry it out; and thereby tyranny begins. And yet society has to be organized. So the problem of what is freedom, is very complex, and I think it is really quite important to go into it. Without freedom, there is obviously no possibility of exploring and finding out what is truth. But how difficult it is for the mind to be free, to actually experience that state, and not just think it is free! To explore and to discover, the mind must have this quality of freedom, which is not the negative state of being free from something. I think there is a difference between the two. When I am merely free from something, that state of freedom is negation, it is a vacuum; but the realization of the fact of freedom, not from something, is a positive state. So I think we must understand the content of this word `freedom'. From childhood we are not educated to be free, but we are conditioned, shaped to the pattern of society. Because we are afraid that freedom will make the child go wrong, spill over, we in our turn establish various rules and regulations, do's and don'ts, thinking that these will guide the child in the right direction, lead him towards bliss, God, truth, or whatever it may be called. From the very beginning we assert that the mind must be conditioned, moulded; so we have never inquired into this problem of freedom. If we had, our values, our action, our whole outlook on life, would be entirely different. The question is, then, can the mind, which is the result of innumerable influences, of the books it has read, of the social, cultural, and religious environment in which it has been brought up, of the memory which has shaped it and made it what it is - can such a mind free itself, not abstractly, or as an ideal, but actually free itself from the past? And what is the continuity of the past? Do you understand the problem? At present the mind is obviously a storehouse of memory -memory being accumulation, association, recognition, and response. It is very interesting to observe that there are now machines which can do all this much quicker than the human mind, which shows that it is a purely mechanical process; and a mind caught in that process, whatever its activity, must also be mechanical. So, can the mind, realizing all this, be in a state of freedom, though it may employ the machine? I do not know if I am explaining this issue clearly, but I think it is significant; because it seems to me that our existence as individuals - if we are individuals at all, which perhaps we are not -is mechanical, routine, and that as individuals we are not creative. I do not mean creativity in the narrow sense of mere production; I am talking of creativity in a totally different sense, which we shall go into presently. Now, what gives the mind this sense of continuity in which there is not a moment of freedom, but merely a constant modification, a mechanical process of adding or subtracting? Surely, creativity is possible only when the mind is not occupied with the machinery of memory. I think this is very clear if you will follow it, though verbally it may be difficult. If you observe your own mind in operation, you will see that it is continually responding from the background of memory; and such a mind cannot know the state of freedom, in which alone there is creativity. To me, this is the supreme problem; because it is only at the instant of being free that the mind is capable of discovering something totally new, unpremeditated, uncontaminated, by the past. So, what gives the mind this mechanical continuity, and why is the mind afraid to let it go? And what creates time - not chronological time, but time as this feeling of moving from yesterday, through today, to tomorrow? Surely, as long as the mind is seeking the `more', there must be this sense of continuity. Being dissatisfied with myself as I am, I want to change; and to change I say I must have time. Changing is always in terms of the `more; and the moment I demand the `more', there must be continuity. The demand for the `more' is envy, and our social structure is based on envy. There is envy, not only in our worldly relationships, but also in our desire to be more spiritual. As long as the mind thinks in terms of the `more', either inwardly or outwardly, there must be envy; and freedom from envy is not a denial of or an abstraction from envy, but the total absence of envy without struggling to be non-envious. Can we go into this a little? You know what envy is, do you not? I think most of us are quite familiar with that feeling, and perhaps we have noticed that our whole society is based on it. There is a constant struggle to be something more, not only in the hierarchical social structure, but also inwardly. I see a car, and I want to possess it; I see a saint, and I want to become like him. This constant struggle to have or to become something, indicates an extraordinary dissatisfaction with what we are; but if we would understand what we are, we cannot compare it with what we would like to be. The understanding of what is does not come about through comparing what is with what should be. I do not know if you have ever tackled this problem of envy. In our jobs, in our daily life and work, envy is rampant; it shows in the respect we pay to the man who knows more to the man who has power, position prestige and in the constant struggle for the `more' within ourselves. We all know this feeling of envy, and as long as it exists there must be frustration and sorrow. Now, can the mind be totally free from envy? I think this is a very important question; because if the mind can never be totally free from envy, we shall perpetuate a society based on acquisitiveness, on ambition and all the rest of the horrors, and there will be ceaseless conflict between us, the meaningless struggle to become something at all levels of our existence. So, can the mind be free from envy? If I struggle to be free from envy, through discipline, through practising a method, surely I give continuity to envy in a different form. There is still the desire to be something, and I have merely changed the object of that desire. I now want to be what I call non-envious; but the want is still the same, the demand for the `more' is still there. So being aware of this fact, can the mind be free from envy? If you will go slowly with me, step by step, I think you will see it. When am I conscious of envy? Does not envy come into being through comparison? Surely, I am envious because you have, and I have not. The very process of comparison is envy. I am a petty little being, and you are a big saint, and I want to be like you. So where there is comparison, there is envy, and if you observe you will see that we are brought up on this; our education, our culture, our whole manner of thinking, is based on comparison and the worship of capacity. And do we understand anything through comparison? Through comparison we may extend knowledge; but knowledge, surely, is not understanding. So the word `envy' implies ambition, greed, the desire to be something, not only socially, but psychologically. And can the mind be entirely free from this demand for the `more'? Why do we demand the `more'? And does that demand lead to progress? When we demand a refrigerator, a better car, and so on, it brings about progress at one level, obviously. But when we demand more power, more fulfilment, greater virtue, when psychologically we want to achieve a result, that inner demand destroys the benefits of technical progress, and brings misery to man. As long as we psychologically demand the `more', our society will be acquisitive, and there must be conflict and violence. This does not mean that we should do away with physical comforts, the mechanical aids produced by technology; but it is the psychological urge to use these things for self-expansion, which is the demand for the `more', that is destroying us. So, can the mind free itself from envy? It can free itself from envy only when comparison ceases, that is, when the mind is directly confronted by the fact that it is envious. Do you understand, sirs? To be directly confronted by the fact that I am envious, is not the same as the realization of that fact which comes through comparison. I hope you are listening, not merely to my verbal expression, the description of what I am trying to convey, but listening in the sense that you are actually experiencing what I am saying - which is to observe the activity of your own mind and come to the point where you are aware, directly conscious, of the fact that you are envious. Now, when do you know that you are envious? Do you know you are envious only when comparison exists, and when you employ the word `envy'? Do you not know that you are envious when you see something which you want, and there is the demand for the `more: more pleasure, more prestige, more money, more virtue, and so on? Or do you know that you are envious without the process of demanding the `more'? That is, can the mind look at the fact that it is envious without this demand? Can the mind free itself from the word `envy'? After all, the mind is made up of words, amongst other things. Now, can the mind be free of the word `envy'? Experiment with this and you will see that words like `God', `truth', `hate', `envy', have a profound effect on the mind. And can the mind be both neurologically and psychologically free of these words? If it is not free of them, it is incapable of facing the fact of envy. When the mind can look directly at the fact which it calls `envy', then the fact itself acts much more swiftly than the mind's endeavour to do something about the fact. As long as the mind is thinking of getting rid of envy through the ideal of non-envy, and so on, it is distracted, it is not facing the fact; and the very word `envy' is a distraction from the fact. The process of recognition is through the word; and the moment I recognize the feeling through the word, I give continuity to that feeling. Surely, a man who is concerned with the total freedom from envy must go into all this; he has to see that our whole cultural background is based on envy, on acquisitiveness, spiritually as well as mundanely. That is, most of us want to be something, in this life or the next. We want more knowledge, greater power, a higher position, more virtue; so the continuity of the mind as the `me' is through the demand for the `more', which is envy. Envy is also the process of dependence. Now, seeing the extraordinarily complex ways of envy, can the mind totally free itself from envy? If it does not, it cannot be free to explore, to discover, to understand. It can be free of envy only when it is directly aware of the fact that it is envious; and it cannot be directly aware of that fact as long as it condemns or compares. This is really quite simple. If you want to understand your son, you must study him, must you not? Studying your son implies watching him, and not comparing him with his elder brother, or anybody else; it means looking at him directly, and not thinking of him comparatively. The moment you think comparatively, you are destroying him, because the image of the other then becomes more important than your son. So, can the mind watch in itself this unrolling of envy, but without condemnation or comparison? Can it be cognizant of the fact that it is envious, and not act upon that fact? The action of the mind upon the fact is also envy, because the mind then wants to change the fact into something else. Unless the mind is totally free from envy, we shall always be in bondage, there will always be suffering, and whatever the mind's activity, it will only create more mischief. The mind that is concerned with total freedom from envy has to be aware of the fact, and not act upon the fact. Then you will see how swiftly the fact itself brings a result, an action, which is not the action of a mind distracted from the fact; and only then can the mind be still. No amount of control, or self-hypnosis, can ever make the mind really quiet; and it is essential for the mind to be quiet, unoccupied with itself, for only then is there a possibility of discovering or experiencing something new. Any experience which has continuity is based on envy, on the demand for the `more; so the mind must die to everything it has learnt, acquired, experienced. Then you will find that the mind is silent, and this silence has its own movement, uncontaminated by the past; therefore it is possible for something totally new to take place. In considering these questions together, again I think it is important to realize that there is no answer; and this realization is in itself an extraordinary experience. But to realize that there is no answer is very difficult for most of us because the mind is seeking a result. When the mind is seeking a result, it will find what it seeks; but that very result creates problems. Question: When I listen to you, it appears to create and intensify my perplexity. Eight days ago I was without a problem, and now I am swamped by confusion. What is the reason for this? Krishnamurti: It may be very simple. Perhaps you have been asleep, and now you are beginning to think. Coming and sitting here casually, perhaps you have been pushed, cornered, stimulated, therefore you are confused; but if you are merely stimulated, when you leave here you will fall back into the same old condition. Stimulation makes the mind dull, it does not awaken the mind; it may awaken it for a minute or a second, but the mind will fall back into its habitual dullness. Depending on these meetings as a means of stimulation is like taking a drink: in the end it will make the mind dull. If you depend on a person to stimulate you to think, you become his disciple, his follower, his slave, with all the nonsense of it; and so you are bound to lie dull. Whereas, if you realize that you have problems - they may be dormant for the moment, but they are there - and begin directly to confront them, then you won't have to be stimulated by me, or by anyone else. Then you won't have to seek out the problems, for you will see them in yourself, and in everything about you as you go down the street: tears, disease, poverty, death. So the question is, how to tackle, how to approach the problem. If you approach any problem with the intention of finding an answer, then the answer will create more problems - which is so obvious. What is important is to go into the problem, and begin to understand it; and you can do that only when you don't condemn, resist, or push it away. The mind cannot solve a problem as long as it is condemning, justifying, or comparing. The difficulty is not in the problem, but in the mind that approaches the problem with an attitude of condemnation, justification, or comparison. So first you have to understand how your mind is conditioned by society, by the innumerable influences that exist about you. You call yourself a Hindu, a Christian, a Moslem, or what you will, which means that your mind is conditioned; and it is the conditioned mind that creates the problem. When a conditioned mind seeks an answer to a problem, it is going around in circles, its search has no meaning; and your mind is conditioned, because you are envious, because you compare, judge, evaluate, because you are tethered to beliefs, dogmas. That conditioning is what creates the problem. Question: Now can I be active politically without being contaminated by such action? Krishnamurti: Sir, what do we mean by political action? What is politics? Surely, it is one segment, one part of a vast complex, is it not? Life consists of many parts, political, social, religious; and if you pursue one part, which you call political action, irrespective of the whole - that is, without considering the totality of life - , then, whatever you do, your action will be contaminating. I think that is so obvious. Only the mind that is seeking, groping, that does not think in compartments, either political, social, or religious, can understand the totality of life. A man who is thinking as a Maharashtrian, or a Gujarathi, cannot perceive the significance of that totality, he does not see that this earth is ours. He can only think in terms of Poona or Bombay, which is so silly; and his separative thinking must eventually lead to mischief and murder, as it has already done. The mind is always setting itself apart as an Indian, a Hindu, a Moslem, a communist, a Christian, this or that, and holding on to its separation, its provincialism, thereby creating ever increasing misery. Whereas, the man who does not feel himself to be an Indian, a Christian, or a Hindu, but only a human being, and who thinks in terms of the totality of life - it is such a man whose action will not be contaminating. But this is very difficult for most of us, because we are always thinking in segments, and we hope by putting these segments together to make the whole. That can never happen. One must have a feeling for the totality of life, and then one can work differently. Unfortunately, the politically-minded want to cling to their politics, and introduce religion into it; but that is an impossibility, because religion is something entirely different. Religion is not dogma, it is not ritual, it is not knowledge of the Gita, of the Bible, or of any other book. Religion is an experience, on the instant, of that state of mind which is without the continuity of time. It is a single second of being free from time; and that state cannot act politically, or in terms of social reform. But when a man has that feeling which is without the continuity of time, his action, whatever it be, will have quite a different meaning. Through the part, you cannot come to the whole, and you don't realize this. To truth there is no path, neither Hindu, Christian, Buddhist, nor Moslem. Truth has no path, it must be discovered from moment to moment; and you can discover it only when the mind is free, unburdened with the continuity of experiences. Question: We listen to all that you say to the point of surfeit. Can there be such a thing as listening too much to you? Don't we become dull by excess of stimulation? Krishnamurti: Is there such a thing as too much listening? What do we mean by listening? If I listen in order to store up, and from that stored-up knowledge to act, then listening can become too much, because it is merely a stimulation to further action. That is what most of us do. We listen in order to learn, to acquire; we retain in the mind what we have learnt, and from there proceed to act. As long as listening is a process of accumulation, naturally there can be too much, a surfeit; but if I am listening without any sense of acquisition, without storing up, then listening has quite a different significance. Listening is learning; but if I am storing up what I learn, then learning becomes impossible. What I learn is then contaminated by what I have stored up, therefore it is no longer learning. It is in the process of accumulation that listening becomes wearisome, excessive, and like any other stimulant, it soon makes the mind dull; you know that what is going to be said, has already been said, and you are at the end of the sentence before I finish it. That is not listening. Listening is an art; it is to hear the totality of a thing, not just the words; and of such listening there can never be too much. Question: Is God a reality to you? If so, tell us about God. Krishnamurti: It is the indolent mind that asks this question, is it not? It is like a man sitting comfortably in the valley and wanting a description of what lies beyond the mountains. That is what we are all doing. The words we read in the so-called sacred books satisfy the mind. The descriptions of the experiences of others gratify us, and we think we have understood; but we never bestir ourselves, we never move out of the valley, climb the steep hills, and find out for ourselves. That is why it is very important to start anew, to put aside all the books, all the guides, all the teachers, and take the journey by oneself. God, the unknown, is a thing to be discovered, not to be told about or speculated upon. What is speculated upon is the outcome of the known; and a mind that is crippled, burdened, occupied with the known, can never find the unknown. You may practise virtue, sit meditating by the hour, but you will never know the unknown, because the unknown comes into being only through self-knowledge. The mind must free itself from the sense of its own continuity, which is the known - and then you will never ask if God is a reality. The man who says he knows what God is, does not know. It is only the mind that frees itself from the experience it had a second ago, that can know the unknown. God or truth has no abiding place, and that is the beauty of it; it cannot be made into a shelter for the petty little mind. It is a living, dynamic thing, like the moving waters of a river. It is only a mind that is not tethered to any organized religion, to any dogma or belief, that is not burdened with the known - it is only such a mind that can discover if there is, or there is not God. To state that there is, or there is not, cripples all discovery. But because the mind itself is impermanent, it wants to be assured that there is something permanent, so it says there must be the eternal, the everlasting. Out of its own quality of time, it projects a thing which it calls the timeless, and then speculates about it; but only the mind that frees itself from time can know the unknown. BOMBAY 4TH PUBLIC TALK 14TH MARCH 1956 We may theoretically or verbally agree that it is very important for the individual to emerge from the collective, but I do not think we pay sufficient attention to the problem; because it is only when there is the creative release of the individual that there is a possibility of discovering and living a totally different kind of life from that which we are living now. At present our life, our thinking, is collective; we are part of the collective; and if we are to bring about a different kind of society, with different values, it seems to me that the individual must begin to understand all the collective impressions that the mind has gathered through the centuries. And as I was saying, it is only when there is freedom at the very beginning that the true individual can emerge. After all, most of us are the result of environment; our thoughts, our activities, our beliefs, our various pursuits, are conditioned by the many influences that exist about us; and to discover what is truth, one has to free the mind from this conglomeration of influences, which is extraordinarily arduous and difficult. I do not think we give sufficient importance to this. It is not until the mind frees itself from these many influences that it is uncorrupted, and only then is there a possibility of discovering something entirely new -something which has not been premeditated, which is not a self-projection, which is not the result of any culture, society, or religion. Propaganda is the cultivation of prejudices; and all of us are prejudiced, because we have been educated to accept or to reject, but never to inquire into this whole problem of influence. We say that we are seeking truth; but what is it that most of us are really seeking? If you are at all aware, self-observant, you will know that you are seeking a result of some kind; you want some form of satisfaction, an inward stability or permanency which you call by different names, according to the environment in which you have been brought up. And are you not seeking success? You want to be successful, not only in this world, but also in the next. It seems to me that this desire to be successful, to arrive, to become something, is a result of the wrong kind of education. And can the mind totally free itself from this desire? I do not think we ask ourselves this question, because all we are concerned with is to follow a method, a system, or an ideal, which we hope will produce a result, lead us to certainty, to success, to definite and permanent happiness, bliss, or what you will. So our minds are always occupied in the effort to arrive at something; and as long as the mind is seeking a goal, an end, a result which will give it complete satisfaction, there must be the creation and following of authority. That is so, is it not? As long as I think that bliss, happiness, God, truth, or what you will, is an end to be reached, there will be the desire to reach it; so I must have a guru, an authority, who will help me to achieve what I demand. Therefore I become a follower, I depend on another; and as long as there is dependence, there is no question of the individual's emerging from the collective and finding out for himself what is truth, or what is the right thing to do. So, if you observe, you will see that we are always seeking someone to tell us what to do. Being confused, we go to another to seek advice. The result is that we are always following, thereby psychologically setting up authority which invariably blinds our thinking and prevents the creativity which is so essential. Outwardly, in this competitive, acquisitive society, we are ambitious, ruthless, otherwise we shall be driven out, pushed aside. Inwardly, psychologically, we are equally ambitious; there also we want to arrive at a certain height, so we pursue an end, either self-projected, or created by another. Seeing all this, what is one to do? How is one to find out what is right action? Surely, this must be a problem to all of us. We see confusion within us and around us; the old values, beliefs, and dogmas, the leaders we have followed, no longer satisfy us, they have lost their grip; and seeing all this chaos, what is one to do? How is one to find out what is right action? To go into this problem, we must ask ourselves what we mean by search, must we not? We all say we are seeking - at least, those of us do who are serious, earnest; but before we go on with our search, surely we must find out what we mean by that word, and what it is that each one of us is seeking. Sirs, can you find anything new by seeking it? Or in your search, can you only find that which you have already known and projected into the future? I think this is an important question. What is it that we are seeking? And can a mind that is seeking ever find something beyond time, beyond its own projections? That is, I say I am seeking truth, God, bliss; but to find it, I must be able to recognize it, must I not? And to be able to recognize it, I must have already experienced it. Previous experience is necessary for recognition, so what I can recognize has already existed in my mind; therefore it is not truth, it is my own projection. And yet that is what most of us are doing. When we seek, we are seeking something which the mind has already experienced and wants to recapture; therefore what we are really after is the permanency of an experience of pleasure, gratification. So, as long as the mind is seeking, obviously it can never find out what is truth. It is only when the mind is no longer seeking - which does not mean that it becomes dull, distracted - and understands this whole process of search, that there is a possibility of discovering something which is not of its own projection, of its own evaluation. For example, you read in the Gita or the Upanishads a description of something permanent, an everlasting bliss, or what you will; and because this life is transient and your thinking, your activities, your relationships, are confused, disturbing, miserable, you want that other state about which you have read. That is what you are seeking. In the search for that state, you cultivate the acceptance of authority, you go to someone who promises to lead you to what you want. Therefore you become a follower; and as long as you follow, you are part of the collective, the mass. You have already recognized, you have established in your mind what that other state is, and you are seeking it through following a guru, through meditation, through the practice of various forms of discipline, and so on. What you are really seeking is something which you already know, or have been taught, a state which you have read about or vaguely experienced; so your search is for the continuance of a gratifying experience, or for the discovery of a pleasurable state which you hope exists, is it not? And I say this search will never reveal the unknown; therefore all seeking must cease. Please do listen to all this with a little attention, if you kindly will. As they are now, our lives are contradictory, shallow, empty, and we are very confused. We go from one guru to another, from one book to another; all about us there are specialists in what we call spirituality, each offering a particular form of meditation, discipline, and we have to choose what is the right thing to do. Now, as long as there is choice, there must be confusion; and it seems to me that before we choose, seek, it is imperative to find out for ourselves what is freedom. For it is only the free mind that can inquire, and not the mind that is caught in tradition, that is conditioned, influenced; nor the mind that is seeking a result; nor the mind that is filled with the activity of the immediate in relation to a projected future. Surely, then, we must discover for ourselves the full significance of freedom, not as a goal, not as an end, but now. What does freedom mean to all of us? As long as the mind is conditioned by society, by culture, as long as it is burdened with its own loneliness, emptiness, as long as it is a slave to any kind of influence, it is not free. So, can the mind be fully aware of the influences that exist outside of and within itself, and which cause it to think in a particular direction, thereby making it incapable of straight thinking? As long as there is pressure behind thinking, thinking can never be straight; and can the mind remove all this pressure? That is, can it be free of motivation, of all compulsion to be this or to be that? We may not be conscious of the pressures that lie behind our thinking, the compulsions of fear, of motive, of dogma and belief; but they are there. Now, can we be fully aware of these influences, and allow the mind to think very smoothly and straightly for itself? Surely, that is one of our greatest problems, is it not? Can we find out what are the pressures on and in the mind that are making us think and act in a certain direction? Let us look at the problem differently. You live here in Bombay. Are you to take the side of Maharashtra, or Gujarat? To which state is Bombay to go? You all sit up and take interest now, do you not? (Laughter). It is very surprising. Now, what are you to do? If you say, `As a citizen I must choose', and you act either as a Maharashtrian, or a Gujarathi, that action is bound to lead to further misery. Whereas, if you act neither as a Maharashtrian, nor a Gujarathi, but as a human being who is not involved in any of this business - with all its stupidity and narrow prejudice, with its clinging to caste, and all the rest of that nonsense - , then your action will obviously be entirely different. So we have to inquire what are the pressures, the motives that are compelling us to act in this way or that; for unless we understand these influences and are free of them, our action will invariably lead to greater sorrow and confusion. That is why it is very important to have self-knowledge, which is to understand the background, the conditioning of one's own mind, and to be freeing oneself from it all the time. You see, when we are merely concerned with immediate action, we get carried away by it, without inquiring into the whole problem of conditioning, how the mind is shaped as a Hindu, as a Christian, or what you will; and unless the mind is liberating itself from its conditioning, whatever action we may take is bound to be disintegrating, and can only create more chaos. So our concern is not to choose this or that course of action, but to understand how the mind is conditioned; for in freeing the mind from its conditioning, there comes an action which is sane, rational, intelligent. What is important, then, is to find out for ourselves what each one of us is seeking, and whether what we are seeking has any validity, or is merely an escape. It is imperative to have self-knowledge, to know oneself - not as the Atman, and all the rest of it, but to know what one is from day to day, which is to observe how one thinks, to see what are the influences behind one's thought, and to be aware of the conscious as well as the unconscious movements of the mind. Then the mind is capable of being very quiet; and it is only in that quietness that something real can take place. Question: One of the dominant ideas in Hinduism is that this world is an illusion. Do you not think that this idea, through the centuries, has been a strong contributing factor to the present misery? Krishnamurti: I do not know what the doctrines of Hinduism are, because I am not a Hindu; nor am I a Christian, or a Buddhist. But I know, as we all do, that the mind has the power to create illusion. It can mesmerize itself into believing that the trees and the houses do not exist, or that suffering is not; it has the extraordinary faculty of believing whatever it likes, irrespective of facts - which is the power to create illusion. Illusion is of different kinds. We have created the illusion of the ideal. We say this world does not matter, it is only the next world that matters, and this world is merely a passage to that. Or we say, `I am rich now because I lived a good life last time'. So we can explain anything away, but the fact remains that the mind has the power to create illusion. Now, can the mind free itself from that power and see facts as they are, instead of its opinion about the facts? Is it possible to see that one is cruel, and not explain cruelty away, or speculate about what it is that has made one cruel? Can one see the starvation, the degradation, the misery, the conflict, the brutality that exists in the world, and not explain it? Can we be simply aware of the fact that we are brutal, violent, cruel, not only outwardly, but inwardly? If we just see that fact without explaining it, what happens? Then the fact begins to operate on the mind the mind does not operate on the fact. The mind operates on the fact only when we evaluate the fact, when we have opinions about it. Being cruel, I have the ideal of kindliness, compassion, which is over there, away from the fact. What is over there is an illusion created by the mind; the fact is, I am cruel. Now, can the mind remain with the fact, not morbidly, but just remain with the fact that I am cruel, full stop? The ideal has been created by the mind, and it is a total illusion; it exists because I want to escape from the fact. But if the mind is free from that illusion which it calls the ideal, then the mind can be operated on by the fact. Let us make it more clear and simple. Most of you, I am sure, have ideals; and ideals exist because the mind has the power to create them. They have no validity, they are not facts; they are the mind's conception of what should be, which is entirely different from what is. What is is the fact, not what should be; but unfortunately we are all idealistic, and so there is the split personality. We are always talking about nonviolence, Ahimsa - how easily this word slips out of us! - and yet we are Maharashtrians, Gujarathis, Telugus, and God knows what else. (Laughter). Sirs, why have ideals, which have no value at all? If we have no ideals, then the fact of misery, of starvation, and the appalling cruelty we indulge in, will force us to do something. As long as we belong to any religion, to any caste, to any particular group, as long as we make the family or the nation the most important unit, there must be cruelty; and we never face this fact, we never look at it, but are always attempting to reach the ideal, and never do. When the mind frees itself from the idea of what should be, it can look at the fact of what is; and then the fact will obviously do something to the mind. As long as I only speculate about there being a poisonous snake in my room, I can go on speculating indefinitely, and there is no action; but if there is an actual snake, then action is immediate, I do not have to think about action. So it may be partly because we have thought of this world as illusory, or as a steppingstone to something much greater, that we are not very concerned with its social horrors and utter misery - but this does not mean that each one of us should immediately enter the field of social reform, which would only increase the present chaos. What is important is to find out how your mind works, which means seeing the pressures, the compulsions, that make you do a certain thing, and freeing the mind from its conditioning. As long as the mind thinks as a Hindu, a Brahmin, a Catholic, or what you will, its conditioning prevents it from facing the fact; but the moment it frees itself from that conditioning and faces the fact, there is an action uninfluenced by the past. Sirs, the problem is very complex. You see, any ideas the mind creates are the outcome of its background, of its prejudice, bias; and a mind that would find out what is the right thing to do in all this chaotic misery, must understand and free itself from its background - which is much more important than to find out what to do. The `what to do' will come with the understanding of the background. As long as you think as a Brahmin, or a non-Brahmin, as long as you follow this path, or that path, any action born of such thinking inevitably creates more confusion, more wars, more hatred. But if you begin to understand the background, there is bound to be right action; and the understanding of the background comes only through awareness in relationship. Question: Can there be a synthesis of the East and the West, and is not that the only way of bridging the gulf between them? Krishnamurti: Sir, what are the East and the West? You see, we are asking a wrong question and trying to find a right answer. Is there an East and a West, except geographically? Is there an eastern culture and a western culture? Is there an eastern way of thinking and a western way of thinking? Superficially there may be; but whether it is called eastern or western, communist or Catholic, each one of us is conditioned by the culture in which he is brought up. You may live in the East, and another in the West; but he is conditioned by his society, by the climate, by the food he eats, by the innumerable impressions, pressures, influences, that exist around him, just as you are. In the West, people wear a certain type of clothing, and here they wear something else; but the human being is the same throughout the world, whatever he wears, and regardless of whether his skin is brown, white, black, or yellow. We are all ambitious, greedy, envious, wanting success -though `success' may take one form there, and a different form here. We are human beings, not easterners and westerners; this is our world, it is not the world of the communists, the Catholics, or of any other group, however much they may want it to be. Large groups of people are deliberately being conditioned to think in a certain way. But there is no `better' conditioning, there is only conditioned thinking; and as long as our minds are conditioned, and act according to that conditioning, we are bound to create wars. As long as you think as a Hindu, opposed to Americans, or Russians, or Moslems, or what you will, you must inevitably bring about antagonism; as long as you think of yourself as a Gujarathi, or a Maharashtrian, you are going to have appalling brutalities. So there is only the human mind, there is only thinking, whether here or in the West; and it is the primary job of every serious person to inquire into the whole process of thinking, because all action springs from thought. Without thinking, there is no action; and thinking is now divided as Indian, European, this or that, which means that it is conditioned, influenced, shaped by a particular culture. Having produced its own culture, the mind then gets caught in that culture, in that society; and to understand this process, to go into it and break it down, is the function of every responsible human being. It is only when we free the mind from its conditioning that we can know what love is, what compassion is; and as long as we remain Hindus, Maharashtrians, or what you will, it is all nonsense to talk about God, truth, love, compassion. A new world cannot come into being unless each one of us feels that this earth is ours to live on, yours and mine; and we cannot live on it peacefully if I think of myself as a Brahmin, or a great saint, and look upon you as a little man, a servant to be abused. We are human beings together, and the change of heart is much more important than the change of legislation. Laws cannot change the heart; and the heart or mind which is ambitious, can utilize or circumvent any form of legislation to enrich itself. That is why it is very important to understand all this, and not divide the world as the East and the West. Question: According to you, the known can never discover the unknown. How then can one recognize the unknown? Is it so utterly different? Krishnamurti: Surely, the mind is the result of the known. The mind only knows as a fact what has been, it can never know as a fact what will be. It can conjecture; but there are innumerable influences which are constantly changing the future, so no man can say what the future will be; and I think it is very important to understand this politically. No group of people, whether communist, Catholic, socialist, or any other, can know the future. To assume that the future can be known is to have a pattern, from which arises the effort to force man to fit into that pattern, liquidating him if he does not, or destroying him in prison-camps, and all the rest of the horrors. What can be known is the process of one's own thinking. The known is the past; recognition is the whole process of the known. The questioner asks, in effect, "Can I recognize the unknown? Can I experience, and know that I am experiencing, the unknown?" Now, what do we mean by recognition? Surely, we can only recognize something we have known. Having met you before, I recognize you; if I have not previously met you, I cannot recognize you - recognition being familiarity with the name, the quality and shape of the face, the manner of speech, the gesture, and all the rest of it. So recognition is always the result of the known. I recognize, because I have experienced before, that that is a house, that is a tree, that is a man, a woman, or a child; I know because I have been told, and also because it is my own experience. I know through experience; so the mind is the result of the known. From the known it can project the unknown, calling it God, truth, or what you will; but it is still a projection of the known. So, can the known experience the unknown? Obviously not. Such a question is a contradiction, it has no validity. The question is not whether the mind can recognize or experience the unknown, but whether the mind can free itself from the known. Being the result of the known, can the mind free itself from the known? This is an extraordinary question, if you really put it to yourself and go into it. The mind has become mechanical because it functions from the known to the known. Like the electronic machines which have been invented, it can only function through association. Our thinking is the result of the known, otherwise there is no thinking; it is the reaction of memory, which is the past; and it is the past that asks, "Can I know or experience something which is timeless, something without measure, beyond recognition?" The answer is obvious. So, all that we can do is to understand the operations of the known, to see how the mind thinks, feels, inquires - which is meditation; and only then is the mind completely still. Stillness of the mind may be induced by drugs, or by discipline, suppression, but that is not meditation; it is just a trick, and such a mind is not still. It is only through inquiring into the known that the mind can be quiet, completely still - the totality of the mind, the conscious as well as the unconscious, not just the superficial mind which says, "I must be still in order to experience the unknown". The totality of the mind must be still, which means that the whole process of thinking must come to an end; and it cannot come to an end by chopping it off, or operating upon it, but only by understanding it. When the whole process of thinking is understood, there comes a stillness of mind in which there is neither the experiencer nor the experienced, there is no movement; and only then is there a possibility of the coming into being of something which is beyond the measure of time. Our job, then, is not to inquire into the unknown, but to find out whether the mind can be free from the known. If you really put this question to yourself, factually and not theoretically, you will find out whether the mind can or cannot be free. I cannot tell you; it is for you to discover the truth of the matter. And you are bound to put this question to yourself, because, as it is now, your mind is mechanical, it endlessly repeats what it has been taught, what it has learnt, what it has read - the eternal gossip about the known. Only when the mind understands itself is there the possibility of freedom from the known. BOMBAY 5TH PUBLIC TALK 18TH MARCH 1956 The last four times we have met here, I have been talking about how important it is for the individual to free himself from the many social, cultural, and religious influences, for it is only then that there can take place the creative release of the good mind. It seems to me very important to understand the quality of the mind, and to bring about that which is good. Most of us are not concerned with bringing about the good mind, but only with what to do; action has become much more important than the quality of the mind. To me, action is secondary. If I may so put it, action does not matter, it is not important at all; because when there is the good mind, the mind that is creatively explosive, then from that creative explosiveness comes right action; it is not `doing is being', but `being is doing'. For most of us, action seems vital, important, and so we get caught in action; but the problem is not action, though it may appear to be. Most of us are concerned with how to live, what to do in certain circumstances, whether to take this side or that side in politics, and so on. If you observe you will see that our search is generally to find out what is the right action to take, and that is why there is anxiety, this pursuit of knowledge, this search for the guru. We inquire in order to find out what to do; and it seems to me that this approach to life must inevitably lead to a great deal of suffering and misery, to contradiction, not only within oneself, but socially, a contradiction that invariably breeds frustration. To me, action inevitably follows being. That is, the very state of listening is an act of humility. If the mind is capable of listening, that very listening brings about the good mind, from which action can come into being. Whereas, without the good mind, without that strange, explosive quality of creativity, mere search for action leads to pettiness, to shallowness of heart and mind. I do not know if you have noticed how most of us are occupied with what to do, and probably we have never had this quality of mind which immediately perceives the totality. The very perception of the totality is its own action, and I think it is important to understand this, because our culture has made us very shallow; we are imitative, traditionally bound, incapable of wide and deep vision, because our eyes are blinded by the immediate action and its results. Observe your own mind and you will see how concerned you are with what to do; and this constant occupation of the mind with what to do can only lead to very shallow thinking. Whereas, if the mind is concerned with the perception of the whole - not with how to perceive the whole, what method to use, which is again to be caught in the immediate action - , then you will see that from this intention comes action, and not the other way around. What is it that most of us are now concerned with? With violence and non-violence, with acquiring a little virtue, with the particular caste or nation we belong to, with whether there is God or not, with what kind of meditation to practise, and so on - all of which is on a limited, petty scale. So the mind gets lost in little things; but this does not mean that one must not inquire into what is meditation. To discover what meditation is, is quite a different matter. But the mind is concerned with what system of meditation to use in order to arrive, and this preoccupation with a system makes the mind petty, shallow, empty - which is what is happening to most of us. We repeat the Gita, the Bible, the Koran, or some Buddhist book, or we quote Lenin or Marx, and think we have solved all the issues. Whereas, it seems to me that what is important is to bring about the good mind, that extraordinary quality of the mind that captures instantaneously the totality of feeling, the totality of being; and I think that the good mind is not possible as long as there is effort. As long as one is striving in any direction, making an effort to be or not to be this or that, the good mind, the mind that is capable of perceiving the whole, is not possible. It is only the mind that is freeing itself from effort, from striving, that can understand the totality of being. Why do we make effort? Please, this is a serious question; let us think it out together. Effort is obviously necessary at a certain level of our existence - the struggle to acquire knowledge in school, to learn a technique, and so on; but why does the mind make an effort to be something, to be non-violent, or to be peaceful? Is it not because, being aware that it is violent, greedy, or stupid, the mind wants to transform that state into something else? The desire to change from what is to what should be, brings about a process of effort, does it not? I am ignorant, and I must have knowledge; I am envious, and I must be non-envious. So the desire to be non-envious breeds effort, the struggle to be something. To me, this effort, in which most people are caught, is the deteriorating factor. As I said, the very act of listening is humility; but we do not listen. We say to ourselves, "What is he talking about? What will happen to me if I make no effort to be something? How shall I live? How shall I get a job, or be promoted?" All life as we know it is struggle, effort, drive, compulsion; we are used to that rhythm, to that way of thinking, and so we never listen. We are listening through the objection of our own opinions. Now, can we put all that aside and merely listen? When we are merely listening, what has happened? That very act of listening is humility. There is no effort involved, the mind has done nothing to be humble; it is humble. therefore it is capable of listening. Do you follow? Because I want to understand what another is talking about, I am not offering my opinion, my objections, my arguments; that is all laid aside, and I listen to what is being said. That very listening is humility; the mind is humble in that very act; therefore there is no effort to be humble. The arrogant mind cannot listen. The mind that is full of knowledge, argumentation, that has acquired, experienced - such a mind is incapable of listening, because it is full of vanity, conceit. So the problem is not how to get rid of conceit, but whether the mind is able to listen. When it can listen, the mind is in a state of humility, and then it is capable of perceiving totally, from which action follows. But what are we concerned with now? Most of us are concerned with the accumulation of a little virtue, a little knowledge, and with multiplying it, making it bigger, wider; but it is still an additive process. We have knowledge, we know what the Gita says, what our guru says, but the good mind is not; therefore the mind is incapable of perceiving, of understanding the whole, without this everlasting struggle. So it seems to me that the greatest factor in the deterioration of the mind is this struggle to be something. After all, when you desire to be something, when you have a goal, an end in view, you struggle towards that end and your whole life is moulded by it; therefore your mind is not concerned with its own quality and depth, but only with the result of effort. Do think about this and you will see how uncreative we are throughout the world. We are merely imitative, we are shaped by the pattern of society, by the blueprint of a particular culture; and can such a mind be creatively explosive? Obviously it cannot. Yet all we are concerned with is what to do. There is starvation in the world, there is misery, suffering, both outwardly and inwardly, and we are only concerned with how to put an end to it all. So the mind gets caught in the `how', the answer, the explanation: how to find God, how to meditate, whether or not there is a continuity after death, what is the right action, who is the right guru, which is the right book, and so on. That is all you are concerned with, is it not? You are not concerned with the quality of the mind, but only with the many `how's', which obviously make the mind shallow. You may have the best guru, read all the sacred books, be extraordinarily virtuous; but if you have not this creatively explosive quality of the good mind, your virtue becomes very shallow, respectable, therefore it has no validity, because virtue is not an end in itself. So it seems to me that what is important is really to inquire into the quality of the good mind, which is a mind that is not imitative, that does not merely follow, but is literally creatively explosive; because without that quality, of what value is your virtue, your knowledge, your search for truth? And can the shallow, mediocre mind, the mind that is educated merely to fit into society, that is beaten, broken, suffering - can such a mind find this creatively explosive quality? Sirs, first we must realize that our minds are shallow, empty; we may fill them with a lot of words, with the knowledge of books, but they are still empty. And can a petty, shallow mind break up its pettiness, its shallowness? Can it make itself vast and deep? Now, when you ask this question, with what intention do you ask it? Is it in order to arrive at a result, to find a method? Or do you ask it merely as the gardener plants a seed, waters it, and lets it grow? I do not know if I am making this issue clear. To me, the explanation of why the mind is petty, is of no importance; what is important is for the mind to find out why it is putting this question. Realizing that it is empty, what does the mind do? It proceeds to acquire more knowledge, it makes effort to fill, to enrich itself. Because it feels shallow, the mind wants to be deep, and then the problem arises of how to be deep; so it practices a method which promises what it wants, and thereby it gets caught in the method. To me, this is a totally wrong process, it is most destructive, because it leads to further shallowness, emptiness. The mind that is caught in a method, is still petty, because it is only concerned with its own enrichment, it has not understood itself. Whereas, if the mind realizes that it is shallow, and asks of itself why it is shallow without seeking an explanation, an answer, then quite a different process takes place. As I said, it is like a gardener planting a seed and watering it. If the water and the soil are good, and if the seed has vitality, it puts out a shoot. Similarly, if the mind asks itself why it is shallow, and does not seek an answer or try to find ways and means of enriching itself, then that very question brings about its own explosion. Then you will find that there comes a totally different state in which the mind is no longer struggling to achieve, to accumulate; and such a mind knows no deterioration. At present our minds are all deteriorating, and what matters, surely, is to put an end to that deterioration. This cannot be done by merely searching out the cause of deterioration and explaining it. But if one is aware of this inner deterioration, and, without seeking an answer, one asks oneself why it exists, then that very questioning is an act of listening. To listen, there must be humility, and humility cleanses the mind of the past; the mind is fresh, innocent, and is therefore capable of perceiving the totality, the whole. It is only such a mind that can bring about order and create a new society with values entirely different from those that exist now. Question: What do you say regarding Tapas, and the Sandhana mentioned in Hindu books for bringing about the cessation of thought? Krishnamurti: I think it is a great mistake to interpret what the books tell you. Please follow this, I am not saying anything irrational. The books tell you to do this or that, and the books may be wrong; and it is also possible that thought can never cease. But what you can do is to find out directly for yourself, without depending on a single person or book, whether or not thought can come to an end. That is much more vital, much more significant, than practising some method that promises the cessation of thought. Now, why do you want thought to cease? Is it because thought is very disturbing, contradictory, transient? And how do you know thought can cease? Do you know because the books have said so? Or is your mind inquiring into the whole process of thinking? Do you follow, sirs? Our problem is to understand the process of thinking, and not how to end thought. You can end thought by taking a drug, or by learning a few tricks which you call meditation; but the mind will still be dull, shallow. Whereas, if you begin to inquire into what is thinking, then you will find out whether or not thought can come to an end. Let us be very clear about this. A method, however noble, however promising, can only stifle thinking, or hold it in a static state; but that is not the cessation of thought. You have only smothered, put a lid on thinking. Whereas, if you begin to inquire into the whole process of thinking, then you will find out what that process is. Thinking, surely, is the response of memory to challenge - memory being the continuity of the past. Behind thinking there are certain pressures, compulsions, which make thought crooked. When there is pressure of any kind behind thinking - pressure being motive, compulsion, urge - , thought must invariably be crooked. But if the mind can free itself from all pressures, from all motives, then you will find that the mind becomes extraordinarily quiet, and that in this quietness there is the cessation of what you call thinking. If you merely wish for the cessation of thinking because you hope it will solve all your problems, or because the books promise a reward, you may succeed in making your mind very still; but it is still a petty mind. So, what we are concerned with is not how to put an end to thought, but with putting an end to pettiness, to shallowness; and for the mind to cease to be petty, it must be free from all authority, from all following, so that it is capable of thinking anew. Sirs, to put the problem differently, a collective belief is very destructive. Many of you call yourselves Hindus, which means that you are still bound by the collective dogmas, traditions, and influences that have made you what you are. Where there is a collective belief, there is deterioration, a destructive process is going on, and that is exactly what is happening throughout the world at the present time. We are all communists or socialists, Hindus or Christians, this or that, which is the collectivity of belief, so there is no individuality at all; and that is why it is very important to see the evil of collective belief. In the very perception of that evil, the individual emerges. It is only the mind that is neither communist nor capitalist, neither Christian nor Hindu, the mind that has no compulsion, no pressure or motive behind it - it is only such a mind that can be without thought. With the ceasing of thought there comes a quietness like that of living waters, and in that quietness there is a vast movement which cannot be comprehended by the mind that is urged through pressure, through motive. Any practice by a mind which is petty will only make the mind still more petty, because it does not understand itself, it is not aware of its own pettiness; it may learn new tricks, new ways or methods, but it will still be petty. All that a petty mind can do is to be aware that it is petty, and not do a thing about it. When the mind is aware that it is petty, it has done everything that it can do. Question: You say that the past must totally cease for the unknown to be. I have tried everything to be free from my past, but memories still exist and engulf me. Does this mean that the past has an existence independent of me? If not, please show me how I can be free of it. Krishnamurti: First of all, is the past different from the `me'? Is the thinker, the observer, the experiencer, different from the past? The past is memory, all one's experiences, one's ambitions, the racial residue, the inherited tradition, the cultural values, the social influences - all that is the past, all that is memory. Whether we are conscious or unconscious of it, it is there. Now, is the totality of all that different from the `me' who says, "I want to be free from the past"? Please follow this patiently with me. There is this continuance of memory, which is extensive and has great depth, and which is responding all the time to challenge. Now, is this memory different from the `me', or is it the `me'? Do you understand? If there were no name, no association with the family, with the past, with the race, and all the rest of it, then would there be a `me'? Would there be a `me', a thinker, if there were no thinking? Or do you say that above the `me' there is the Atman, an independent entity who is watching all the time? If there is an independent entity, surely the mind which is dependent is incapable of knowing it. Do you follow? The mind which is both dependent on and a result of the past, has said there is the Atman, the watcher from above, who is free, independent; but it is still the dependent mind that has said it; therefore what it calls the Atman is part of the mind, it is within the field of memory, of tradition. That is fairly obvious, is it not? You are educated through tradition, through repetition, through reading, and all the rest of it, to believe that there is something independent of this `me', something beyond this field of memory; but a man educated in Russia will say there is no such thing, it is all nonsense, there is only this `me'. So we are all the result of our education, we are conditioned by our past, by the culture in which we live, by the religious, political and social influences in which we have been brought up; and to assume, to postulate, to suppose, that there is something superior to this `me', though there may be, is a most infantile and immature way of thinking which has led to a great deal of confusion and misery. So, there is no `me' separate from the past. The `me' is the past, it is the quality, the virtue, the experience, the name, the family association, the various tendencies, both conscious and unconscious, the racial inheritance - all that is the `me', and the mind is not separate from it. The soul, the Atman, is part of the mind, because the mind has invented these words. The problem is, then, how can the mind, which is a result of the past, free itself from its own shadow? Do you understand? How can the mind, which is the totality of memory, free itself from the past? Is that a right question, sirs? I think it is a wrong question. All that the mind can do is to be aware of the past, how every reaction, every response derives from the past - just be totally aware of it without the desire to alter it, without choosing what is good and rejecting what is bad out of the past. If the mind struggles to end, to forget, or to alter the past, it separates itself from the past and so creates a duality in which there is conflict; and that very conflict is the deterioration of the mind. Whereas, if the mind sees the totality of this memory, and is simply aware of it, then you will find that something strange happens. Without effort, the past has come to an end. Try it, not because I say so, but because you see it for yourself. A mind which is the result of the past cannot free itself from the past through its own effort. All that it can do is to be aware of its reactions, aware of how it accumulates resentment, and then forgives; of how it acquires, and then renounces; of how it chooses, and then gets confused in choice. A mind that chooses is a confused mind. Be aware of all this, and you will find that the mind becomes astonishingly quiet. Then there is no choice, because the mind sees the falseness of doing something to free itself from the past. Out of that perception there comes, not a freedom from the past, but a sense of freedom which can deal with the past. Question: The strongest underlying commandment in all religions is: Love your fellowman. Why is this simple truth so difficult to carry out? Krishnamurti: Why is it that we are incapable of loving? What does it mean to love your fellow man? Is it a commandment? Or is it a simple fact that, if I do not love you, and you do not love me, there can only be hate, violence, and destruction? What prevents us from seeing the very simple fact that this world is ours, that this earth is yours and mine to live upon, undivided by nationalities, by frontiers, to live upon happily, productively, with delight, with affection and compassion? Why is it that we do not see this? I can give you lots of explanations, and you can give me lots more, but mere explanations will never eradicate the fact that we do not love our neighbour. On the contrary, it is because we are forever giving explanations, causes, that we do not face the fact. You give one cause, I give another, and we fight over causes and explanations. We are divided as Hindus, Buddhists, Christians, this or that. We say we do not love because of social conditions, or because it is our karma, or because somebody has a great deal of money while we have very little. We offer innumerable explanations, lots of words, and in the net of words we get caught. The fact is that we do not love our neighbour, and we are afraid to face that fact, so we indulge in explanations, in words, in the description of the causes; we quote the Gita; the Bible, the Koran - anything to avoid facing the simple fact. Do you understand, ladies and gentlemen? What happens when you face the fact and know for yourself that you do not love your neighbour? Your son is your neighbour, so you do not have to go very far. You do not love your son, and that is a fact. If you loved your son, you would educate him entirely differently; you would educate him, not to fit into this rotten society, but to be self-sufficient, to be intelligent, to be aware of all the influences around him in which he is caught, smothered, and which never allow him to be free. If you loved your son, who is also your neighbour, there would be no wars between Pakistan and India, or between Germany and Russia, because you would want to protect him and not your property, your petty little belief, your bank account, your ugly country, or your narrow ideology. So you do not love, and that is a fact. The Bible may tell you to love your neighbour, and the Gita or the Koran may tell you the same thing, but the fact is that you do not love. Now, when you face that fact, what happens? Do you understand? What happens when you are aware that you are not loving, and being aware of that fact, do not offer explanations or give causes as to why you do not love? It is very clear. You are left with the naked fact that you do not love, that you feel no compassion, that you have not a single thought of another. The contemptuous way you talk to your servants, the respect you show to your boss, the deep, reverential salute with which you greet your guru, your pursuit of power, your identification with a country, your seeking after the great ones - all this indicates that you do not love. If you start from there, then you can do something. Sirs, if you are blind and really know it, if you do not imagine you can see, what happens? You move slowly, you touch, you feel; a new sensitivity comes into being. Similarly, when I know that I have no love, and do not pretend to love; when I am aware of the fact that I have no compassion, and do not pursue the ideal, which is all nonsense - then, with the facing of that fact, there comes a different quality; and it is this quality that saves the world, not some organized religion, or an ideology invented by the clever. It is when the heart is empty that the things of the mind fill it; and the things of the mind are the explanations of that emptiness, the words that describe its causes. So, if you really want to stop wars, if you really want to put an end to this conflict within society, you must face the fact that you do not love. You may go to a temple and offer flowers to some stone image, but that will not give the heart this extraordinary quality of compassion, love, which comes only when the mind is quiet, and not greedy, envious. When you are aware of the fact that you-have no love, and do not run away from it by trying to explain it, or find its cause, then that very awareness begins to do something; it brings gentleness, a sense of compassion. Then there is a possibility of creating a world totally different from this chaotic and brutal existence which we now call life. BOMBAY 6TH PUBLIC TALK 21ST MARCH 1956 It seems to me that one of the most difficult things in our life is to understand the whole implication of living, and what it is all about. With its pleasure and sorrow, its varieties of experience, its strife and strain, this enormous process that we call living becomes extremely complex, and perhaps very few of us understand it completely. In this vast process, there are many problems, some impersonal, outside of us, and others that are intimately related to the individual, which we almost never consider. Why do we perform any action, and what is its significance, what are its implications? Is there such a thing as the absolute, the immeasurable, and is there any relation between that immensity and our everyday living? We keep all these things in watertight compartments, and then try to find a relationship between them. Unfortunately, we are educated, not to understand the whole significance of life, but only to have a job, to perform some immediate action, to earn a livelihood; and so the mind is incapable of thinking deeply on any issue. Now, I do not think that the problem of immediate action, the problem of what to do, whether in this or in any other country, can be divorced from the inquiry into whether there is such a thing as the absolute, the immeasurable, something beyond the field of the mind; because, without this inquiry, I feel that mere action, however satisfactory and necessary, will only lead to further misery. If we would understand each other, I think this point must be made very clear. Our fundamental problem is not what to do, but rather how to awaken the creativity of the individual; that is, how not to get so involved in the immediate action, that the immense significance of this creative release is denied or put aside. After all, why is it that we are listening? Surely, not to be told what to do, but rather, if we are at all serious and thoughtful, to find out together - not as pupil and teacher, but together - how the mind gets caught in all the various influences to which it is subjected, and so becomes incapable of deep inquiry. Without deep inquiry, without search, one may bring about immediate results which produce temporary alleviation; but this may be the cause of further misery, further strife. So I think it is very important for each one of us to find out for himself what it is that he ultimately wants, and whether there is such a thing as the immeasurable, in the understanding of which his present activity will have quite a different significance. To me, most definitely, the immediate activity has significance only in the understanding of that immensity, call it God, truth, reality, or what you will; and to be concerned with immediate change or reformation, divorced from the other, has no meaning at all. For most of us, life is chiefly a process of earning a livelihood, with its constant economic and social pressures, and the complex demands of individual relationships. We are caught in this process, and we are trying to do something within its field - trying to be noble, non-violent, and all the rest of it. We seem to be incapable of inquiring into this whole issue, of searching out its significance at a deeper level. So, why is one not capable of deep inquiry? I think that is a legitimate question for all of us to ask ourselves. Why is it that we are apparently incapable of penetrating into the deeper issues of life? Why is it that we do not even ask fundamental questions? Is it that we are blocked by so-called education, by society, by our relationships, by our own miseries and conflicts? What actually blocks or hinders this inquiry? And are we blocked, or are we just incapable of real inquiry? We are trying to find out if there can be a creative release of the individual, so that the mind is capable of constant inquiry, of penetrating to extraordinary depths, not theoretically, abstractly, but actually. Is this capacity to probe, to penetrate deeply, blocked by our own thinking? Or does it not exist in us at all? We know when we are blocked, we know what that word signifies. When I want to do something, I am consciously blocked, prevented, hindered by society, by some relationship, or by a particular act; or there is an unconscious hindrance. This conscious or unconscious blockage may be the factor which is preventing the mind from penetrating to great depths. Is there a blockage because our education is so superficial that we cannot inquire profoundly? Is it because our so-called intellectual training is so limited or specialized that our minds cannot penetrate deeply, or ask really fundamental questions? Our education at present is merely the cultivation of memory, it is the repetition of phrases, words, the learning of techniques; it is as superficial as lighting a lamp. With a mind so educated, we try to inquire; and we feel blocked, incapable of asking a really serious question and going into it alone. Now, is there a blockage, or is it that we have not the capacity to inquire? I think there is a difference between the two. It may be that I block my own inquiry through various fears, frustrations, and all the rest of it; or I may simply not have the capacity to inquire persistently, to dig very deeply and discover something extraordinarily significant which will give light to my daily activities. What do we mean by the capacity to inquire? Can a mind which has been trained, educated to think only superficially, penetrate to great depths? Obviously not. After all, the man who has read the Gita, the Koran, or what you will, and knows all the ready-made answers; the man who has compared the various teachers, and learnt a cunning way of approaching every problem, has acquired knowledge which is very superficial. He repeats what others have written, and this repetition, which is traditional, makes the mind very shallow. If one talks with a man who is erudite, who has read all the Shastras, who is familiar with the teachings of Buddha and Shankara, who has great knowledge as well as the power of expression, and who has therefore become a leading authority - if one talks with such a man, one sees that his mind is very shallow. Such a man has never put a fundamental question to himself, and found the truth of it on his own; he is always quoting some authority. We also are trained to be like that, therefore the mind is very shallow, limited, petty; and with such a mind we try to inquire. But I say a shallow mind cannot penetrate very deeply, or ask questions that have profound significance. So what is one to do? I think this is your problem, if you really think about it. Let us put it differently. We see great confusion around us, not only among the experts, the authorities, but also among ourselves, and in our own thinking. There are many political, sociological, and so-called religious organizations, and most of us join one or other of these, throwing ourselves into its work because we think it has the final answer. So we come to depend on organizations, or on leaders who give us an assurance; they know, therefore we follow, we imitate, we belong to these various groups. All this indicates, does it not?, a mind that is not solitary, alone, a mind that is incapable of thinking out a problem completely for itself, because it is dependent. The moment the mind becomes dependent, it is made incapable of inquiry; like a child who is dependent on its mother, such a mind is not free to inquire. So, through dependence on organizations and authority, through so-called education, culture, through our own constant ambition, our desire for power, position and prestige, the mind is made incapable of deep penetration. If you actually observe your own mind - I am repeating this most respectfully - you will see how incapable it is of real penetration into what may be called truth, or God. Probably your mind has never asked what life is all about; and when it does ask, it has an answer according to Buddha, Christ, Shankara, the Upanishads, or what you will, so it is satisfied. Only the mind that is alone, that is really free, can penetrate to great depths without seeking some stupid result. But our minds are not like that; and until they are, our life has very little meaning, it can only produce more war, more despair, more chaos - which is being shown in the world at the present time. So, is it possible for you and me, who have no capacity for it, to penetrate deeply? And without that capacity, has it any significance for us to inquire into that which may be the final answer to all our problems? Surely, you must have asked yourself this question. If not, I am asking it now. After all, if you have no capacity to inquire, what is the good of following somebody? By that very following you are made more dependent, and therefore less capable of inquiry. To be capable of inquiring profoundly, you need a mind which is completely alone -alone in the sense that it is not being pushed in any direction, not being driven by the anxiety of immediate action, immediate reformation, immediate demand. So what is one to do? You see, the difficulty with most of us is that we want tangible evidence that we have arrived; we want to be assured of a result, we want to be told that we have changed, that we are good, or that we are effective social entities. To me, all these things are unimportant, because I see that the capacity to inquire, to discover what is truth, cannot be cultivated. All that the mind can do is to be aware that it is incapable of inquiry, and not keep on imitating, copying. Sirs, it is like leaving the window open; then the fresh air comes in as it will, if there is fresh air. Similarly, all that one can do is to leave the window of the mind open - not ask how to leave it open, but actually leave it open. I hope you see the difference between the two. To ask, "How am I to leave the window of the mind open, so that reality can come into being?", only makes you incapable of leaving it open. When you want to know the `how', the method, you are a follower of the method, and to the method you become a slave. Any method can only produce its own result, which is not the opening of the mind; the moment you really understand this, the mind is open. Then you will see that your inquiry no longer has a particular object; and because the mind is open, free of any system, it is capable of receiving something immeasurable. That immeasurable thing is not to be talked about, it has no meaning if it is merely read about and repeated. It must be experienced; and that very experience brings about an action in the world, without which this existence has no significance at all, except that it produces more misery. After all, what is it we all want? Life, with its constant change, its strife, its varieties of experience, is very fleeting; and the mind says, "Is this all?" When it asks that question, it generally turns to a book, or to a person, and thereby gets caught in authority, because the mind is very easily satisfied with words. But when the mind is not satisfied with words, with explanations, but proceeds to delve, to inquire freely, easily, without any pressure, then there comes into being that extraordinary something - the name does not matter - which will solve all the complexities of our life. Sirs, what is a problem? Does not the problem exist only when the mind has given soil for it to take root? If there is no soil for the problem to take root, then you can deal with the problem. The mind at present has so many rooted problems that it is nothing but a seed bed of problems. So the question is, not how to solve any particular problem, but whether it is possible for the mind not to give soil to problems. The moment the mind gives soil to a problem, the problem takes root and spreads. Now, listen to this and understand it. Do not ask how not to give soil to problems, but see that a problem exists only when there is soil in the mind for the problem to take root. Just to see and to understand that fact is sufficient to dissolve the problem. Question: From what you said last Sunday, I gather that you think we do not love our children. Do you not know, sir, that the love of our children is one of the greatest and most deep-rooted of human affections? Surely you realize how helpless we are individually to do anything about war and peace. Krishnamurti: If we loved our children, there would be no wars, for our education would be entirely different, and we would create a totally different kind of society; but since there are wars and our society is in perpetual conflict within itself, with each man against another, it indicates that we do not love our children. That is what I said last Sunday, and I think it is a fact. You say that your love for your children is deep-rooted and great; but the fact is that you are at each other's throats. There is ambition, and when man is ambitious, there is no love in his heart; when he encourages his son to climb the ladder of success and reach the top, obviously he is encouraging him to be ruthless. Surely, all this indicates that there is no love, does it not? After all, as a parent, you are also a teacher, because your child lives with you; you train him, he follows you, he builds himself in your image. There is the teacher at school, but you are the teacher at home, and you train the child in the "do's" and "don'ts", compelling him to imitate, to copy, to follow in your footsteps and become somebody in society. All you are concerned with is the child's security, which is your own; you want him to be respectable, to earn a livelihood, to adjust himself to the demands of the existing social order. You call that love; and is it love? What does it mean to love a child? Surely, it does not mean encouraging him to become your little image, shaped by society, by so-called culture; it means, rather, helping him to grow freely. He has acquired certain tendencies, inherited certain values from you, and so he cannot be free at the beginning; but to love him is to help him from the beginning to free himself constantly, so that he becomes a real individual, not merely an imitative machine. If you love your child you will educate him not to conform to society, but to create his own society, which may be entirely different from the present one; you will help him to have, not a traditional mind, but a mind that is capable of inquiring into the significance of all the cultural, social, religious, and national influences by which he is surrounded, and not be caught in any of them, so that his mind is free to find out what is true. Surely, that is right education. Then the child will grow into a free human being, self-sufficient and capable of creating his own world, a totally different kind of society; having confidence, the capacity to work out his own destiny, he will not want your property, your money, your position, your name. But now it is the reverse; you expect your son to carry on your property, your wealth, your name, and that is what you call love. What can the individual do about all this? Surely, it is only the individual who can alter the world, the individual who feels very strongly that a new kind of education, a new way of living must be brought about. It begins with the individual, with those of you who really feel the importance of these things. You may not prevent an immediate war, but you can prevent future wars if you see for yourself, and help your children to see, the stupidity of wars, of class divisions, of social conflict. But unfortunately, most of us are not aware of the implications of all this, which means that the coming generation is an imitation of ourselves in a modified form, and so there is no new world. It is only when we love our children in the true sense of the word that we shall bring about the right kind of education and thereby put an end to war. Question: What is beauty? Krishnamurti: In exploring this question, are we looking for an explanation, the dictionary meaning of that word? Or are we trying to feel out the full significance of beauty? If we are merely looking for a definition then we shall not be sensitive to that which we call beauty. Surely, the mind must be very simple to appreciate what is beautiful. Please follow this a little bit. I am thinking aloud, exploring as I go along. The mind must be sensitive, not only to that which it thinks is beautiful but also to that which is ugly; it must be sensitive to the dirty villages, to hovels, as well as to palaces and beautiful trees. If the mind is sensitive only to what is beautiful, then it is not sensitive at all. To be sensitive, it must be open to both the ugly and the beautiful. That is obviously so. To pursue beauty, and deny that which is not beautiful, makes the mind insensitive. To feel that which is ugly (which may not be ugly), and that which is beautiful (which may not be beautiful), there must be sensitivity - sensitivity to poverty, to the dirty man sitting in the bus, to the beggar, to the sky, to the stars, to the shy, young moon. Now, how is this sensitivity to come into being? It can come into being only when there is abandonment - not calculated abandonment, but the abandonment that comes when there is no self-fulfilment. You see there can be no abandonment without austerity. But it is not the disciplined austerity of the ascetic, because the ascetic is seeking power, and therefore he is incapable of abandonment. There can be abandonment only when there is love; and love can come into being only when the `me' is not dominant. So the mind must be very simple, innocent - not made innocent. Innocency is not a state to be brought about through discipline, through control, through any form of compulsion or suppression. The mind is fresh, innocent, only when it is not cluttered up with the memories of many centuries; and this implies, surely, an extraordinary sensitivity, not merely to one part of life which is called beauty, but also to tears, to suffering, to laughter, to the hovels of the poor, and to the open skies - that is, to the totality of life. Question: You are helping us to understand the workings of our own minds, and to see how unintelligently we are living; but in an industrial society, is it possible to practise what you say? Krishnamurti: Sir, what I say cannot be practised, because there is nothing to practise. The moment you practise something, your mind is caught in that practice, therefore it is made dull, stupid. Practice creates habit, and whether good or bad, it is still habit; and a mind that is merely the instrument of habit, is not sensitive, it is incapable of penetration, inquiry, deep search. Yet your whole tradition and education is to practise, practise, practise, which means that you are concerned, not with helping the mind to be sensitive, profound, supple, but with learning a few tricks so that you will not be disturbed. If anyone offers a method which will enable you not to be disturbed, that method you practise, and in practising it you are putting the mind to sleep. Surely, the mind that is alert, watchful, inquiring, does not need any practice. And what is it that we are talking about? We are saying that unless you understand yourself, any society, industrial or otherwise, is going to destroy you - and you are being destroyed, crushed, made uncreative. Unless you understand the whole content of your being, the motives, the urges, the ways of your thought, unless you know the total substance and depth of your mind, you will gradually become just another machine - which is what is actually happening. Slowly, inescapably, you are being made into machines - machines which are creating problems. So, what matters is to understand yourself, the ways of your own mind - but not through introspection or analysis, whether by an analyst or by yourself, nor through reading books about the mind. The ways of the mind are to be understood in our relationships from day to day, which means seeing what we actually are without distortion, as we see our faces in the mirror. But we destroy the understanding of what we are the moment we compare or condemn, reject or accept. It is by just seeing what is that the mind makes itself free; and only in freedom is there the coming into being of that which may be called God, truth, or what you will. Sirs, as one begins to understand oneself, that very beginning is the moment of freedom; and that is why it is very important not to have a guru, or make any book into an authority - because it is you who create authority, power, position. What is important is to understand yourself. You may say, "Well, that has been said before, many teachers have said it; but the fact is that we do not know ourselves. When you begin to discover the truth about yourself, there is something totally new, and this quality of newness can come into being only through self-discovery from moment to moment. There is no continuity in discovery; all that you have discovered must be lost in order to find the new again. If the mind really does this, then you will see that there comes an extraordinary quality - the quality of a mind that is completely alone, uninfluenced, a mind that has no motive; and it is only such a mind that can receive something which has never been known before. There must be freedom from the known for the unknown to be; and this whole process is meditation. It is only the meditative mind that can discover something beyond itself. BOMBAY 7TH PUBLIC TALK 25TH MARCH 1956 It seems to me that, all over the world, there is very little respect for the individual; and without this respect, the individual is totally crushed - which is what is happening in modern society. A different social environment must obviously be brought about, but I do not think we realize how important it is for the individual to be free; that is, we do not see the significance of individual inquiry, search, and release. It is only the individual who can ultimately find reality, it is only the individual who can be a creative force in this disintegrating society; and I do not think we fully comprehend how urgent it is that we as individuals should discover for ourselves a way of life dissociated from the cultural, social, and religious influences which surround us. If we did perceive the importance of the individual, we should never have leaders and be followers. We follow only when we have lost our individuality. There are leaders only when we as individuals are confused, and are therefore incapable of clearly thinking out our own problems, and acting upon them. At present we are not individuals, we are merely the residue of collective influences, of cultural impressions, and social restrictions. If you observe very closely and carefully the operation of your own mind, you will see that your thinking is according to tradition, according to books, according to leaders or gurus, which means that the individual has completely ceased; and surely it is only the individual who can create anything new. Now, why is it that we have lost respect for the individual? We talk a great deal about the importance of the individual; all the politicians talk about it, including those in the collective, tyrannical society, just as the various religious leaders talk about the importance of the soul. But how does it happen that, in actual practice, the individual is ground down, totally lost? I do not know if this is a problem to any of you; but if we can pay sufficient attention this evening, perhaps we shall be able to emerge from the mass of collective influences - actually emerge from it, and discover for ourselves what it is to be real individuals, totally integrated human beings. I think one of the fundamental reasons for our having ceased to be individuals is the fact that we are pursuing power; we all want to be somebody, even in the house, in the flat, in the room. Just as nations create the tension of power, so each separate human being is everlastingly seeking to be something in relation to society; he wants to be recognized as a big man, as a capable bureaucrat, as a gifted artist, as a spiritual person, and so on. We all want to be something, and the desire to be something springs from the urge to power. If you examine yourself, you will see that what you want is success and the recognition of your success, not only in this world, but in the next world - if there is a next world. You want to be recognized, and for that recognition, you are dependent on society. Society recognizes only those who have power, position, prestige; and it is the vanity, the arrogance, of power, position, prestige, that most of us are seeking. Our deep underlying motive is the pride of achievement, and this pride asserts itself in different ways. Now, as long as we are seeking power in any direction, real individuality is crushed out - not only our own individuality, but that of others. I think this is a basic psychological fact in life. When we seek to be somebody, it means that we desire to be recognized by society; therefore we become slaves to society, mere cogs in the social machine, and hence we cease to be individuals. I think this is a fundamental issue, not to be quickly brushed aside. As long as the mind is seeking any form of power - power through a sect, power through knowledge, power through wealth, power through virtue - it must invariably breed a society which will destroy the individual, because then the human mind is caught and educated in an environment which encourages the psychological dependence on success. Psychological dependence destroys the clear mind which is alone, uncorrupted, and which is the only mind capable of thinking problems right through individually, independent of society and of its own desires. So, the mind is everlastingly seeking to be something, and thereby increasing its own sense of power, position, prestige. From the urge to be something springs leadership, following, the worship of success; and hence there is no deep individual perception of inward reality. If one actually sees this whole process, then is it possible to cut at the root of one's search for power? Do you understand the meaning of that word `power'? The desire to dominate, to possess, to exploit, to depend on another - all that is implied in this search for power. We can find other and more subtle explanations, but the fact is that the human mind is seeking power; and in the search for power it loses its individuality. Now, how is this demand for power, which breeds arrogance, pride, vanity, to be put away? The mind is constantly seeking flattery, its emphasis is on itself, all its activities are self-centred; and how is the mind to cut at the root of this thing? I do not know if you have thought about this problem of how to be totally rid of the drive to power, but I think it would be worthwhile if we could go into it this evening. There is the desire to be somebody in this world, or to be somebody spiritually. Now, is it at all possible to get at and uproot this thing, so that we never follow a leader, have no sense of self-importance, and do not want to be somebody in the political or any other world? Can we be nobody, even though the whole stream of existence is moving the other way, urging us from childhood to be somebody? All our education is comparative; we are always comparing ourselves with somebody, which is again the search for power and position. And can this competitive spirit be got rid of, not little by little, not gradually through time, but completely and instantaneously, like cutting at the root of a tree and destroying it? Can this be done, or must we have time to bridge the gap between what is and what should be? I think we all realize the significance of this desire to be something, which produces imitation and destroys real individuality, clear perception; so I need not go into further details this evening. Now, can this desire be destroyed, wiped away instantaneously, or does it need time, which we call evolution? As we are at present educated, we say that it is a matter of time, of gradually approaching the ideal state in which there is no desire for power, and in which the mind is totally integrated. That is, we are here, and we must reach there, which is somewhere in the far distance; so there is a gap, an interval between the two, and hence we must struggle, we must move away from here to arrive there, which demands time. To me, this idea that the root of the desire to be something can be destroyed through time, is utterly false. It must be wiped away immediately, or it can never be; and if you will give this your full attention, you will see it for yourself. Please listen, not merely to what I am saying, but to what is actually happening in your own mind as I am talking - to the reaction, the psychological process, awakened in you by my words, my description. It is obvious that each one of us wants to be something; and we see that the desire to be something does breed antagonism, arrogance, crime. We also see that it brings about a social structure which encourages that very desire, and in which the individual ceases to exist, because the mind gets caught up in the organization of power. Seeing this whole process, can the desire to be something utterly disappear? Surely, it is only when the mind is capable of complete and direct thinking, uninfluenced by any self-centred activity, that it can find out what is real; and being caught in this extraordinarily complex desire to be something, is it possible for the mind totally to free itself? If the problem and its implications are clear, we can proceed. But if you say, "It will take time to get rid of the desire to be something", then you are already looking at the problem with a prejudice, with a so-called educated mind. Your education, or the Gita, or your guru, has told you it will take time; so when you approach the problem, you already have a preconceived opinion about it. Now, is it possible for the mind instantaneously to wipe away this desire to be something, and hence never again create a leader by becoming a follower? It is the follower who creates the leader, there is no leader otherwise; and the moment you become a follower you are an imitative entity, therefore you lose creative individuality. So, can the mind wipe away totally this sense of following, this sense of time, this wanting to be something? You can wipe it away only when you give it your whole attention. Please see this. When you give your undivided attention to it and are completely observant, fully aware of the fact that the mind is seeking power, position, that it wants to be something - only then can you be free. I shall explain what I mean by complete attention. Attention is not to be forced, put together; the mind is not to be driven to pay attention to something. Please look at this, if you kindly will. The moment you have a motive for attention, there is no attention, because the motive is more important than paying attention. For the total cessation of the desire to be something, complete attention must be given to that desire. But you cannot give complete attention to it if there is any motivation, any intention to wipe away that desire in order to get something else; and our minds are trained, not to pay attention, but to derive from attention a result. You pay attention only when you get something out of it; but here such attention is an obstruction, and I think it is very important to understand this right from the beginning. Any form of attention which has an objective, becomes inattention, it breeds indolence; and indolence is one of the factors which prevent the immediate wiping away of the desire we are talking about. The mind can wipe away a particular desire only when it gives it complete attention; and it cannot give it complete attention as long as it is seeking a result. That is one factor of inattention; and any form of explanation, verbalization, is another. That is, there can be no attention as long as the mind has explanations of why it is seeking power, position, prestige. When you are trying to explain the cause of all that, there is inattention; therefore through explanation you will never find freedom. There is no attention as long as you are comparing what has been said about this problem by various authorities, by Shankara, Buddha, Christ, or X, Y, Z. When your mind is full of other people's knowledge, other people's experience, when it is following guides, sanctions, there can be no attention. Neither is there attention if you judge or condemn - which is fairly obvious. If you condemn a thing, you cannot understand it. And there can be no attention when there is an ideal, because the ideal creates duality. Please see this. The ideal creates duality, and in that duality we are caught, especially in this unfortunate country, where we all have ideals. Everybody talks about the ideal of the guru, the ideal of nonviolence, the ideal of loving your neighbour, the ideal of one life -and all the time you are denying that very thing in your living. So why not scrap the ideal? The moment you have an ideal, you have duality, and in the conflict of that duality the mind is caught. The fact is that there is this desire for power, this pride in being something, and it can only be wiped away instantaneously, not through the process of time; that is, only when the mind is aware of it without being distracted by the ideal. The ideal is a distraction, breeding inattention. I hope you are giving your complete attention to the problem now, not because I am telling you to, but because you see for yourself the full significance of this desire to be something. If the mind is giving complete attention to the problem, it is not creating the opposite; therefore there is humility. The fact is that your mind is seeking power, position, mundanely or spiritually, and is thereby causing all this mess, the chaos, confusion, and misery in the world. When the mind really sees that fact, which is to give complete attention to it, then you will find that pride and arrogance totally cease; and this cessation is an entirely different state from that brought about by the desire to be humble. Humility is not to be cultivated; and if it is cultivated, it is no longer humility, it is merely another form of arrogance. But if you can look at the problem very clearly and directly, which is to give it your undivided attention, you will discover that to wipe away this desire to be something, with its arrogance, vanity and disrespect, is not a matter of time, for then it is wiped away immediately. Then you are a different human being, who will perhaps create a different society. Question: It seems to me that the most notable thing about India is the all-pervading sense of timelessness, of peace and religious intensity. Do you think this atmosphere can be maintained in the modern industrial age? Krishnamurti: Who do you think has created this sense of timeless peace and religious intensity? You and I? Or was it set going by some ancient people who lived quietly, anonymously, who felt these things intensely and perhaps expressed them in poems, in religious books? Because they felt intensely this religious spirit, it has remained; but it is not in our life, it is outside somewhere, and it has become our tradition. We are inclined to be so-called idealistic, which is a most unfortunate thing; and somewhat surreptitiously we have maintained this sense of timelessness - or rather, we have not maintained it, but it has gone on in spite of us. We are now caught in this modern industrial society. It is right that we should have machines to produce what is necessary in a country which is poverty-stricken; but because we have had nothing for so long, now that we can have things, if we are not very alert, individually clear-sighted and aware of the whole problem, we shall probably become more materialistic than America and the other Western nations - while America and Europe may perhaps become more spiritual, more timeless, more gentle, more compassionate. That may happen. So, what is the problem? Is it how to maintain the sense of timelessness, the sense of peace and religious intensity, in spite of this modern industrial society? This industrial society has to exist, and production must be stepped up still more; but unfortunately, in bringing about greater production, in mechanizing farms and industries, the danger is that the mind will also become mechanized. We think science is going to solve all our difficulties. It is not. The solution of our difficulties depends, not on machines and the inventions of a few great scientists, but on how we regard life. After all, though we may talk about religion, we are not religious people; because the religious person is free of dogma, of belief, of ritual, of superstitions, he is not bound by class or caste, which means that he is free of society. The man who belongs to society is ambitious, he is seeking power, position, he is proud, greedy, envious; and such a man is not religious, though he may quote Shastras by the dozen. It is the religious person who will create this sense of timelessness, this sense of peace, even though living in an industrial society, because he is inwardly intense in his discovery from moment to moment of that which is eternal. But this requires astonishing vigour, mental clarity; and you cannot be mentally clear if your mind is cluttered up with knowledge gathered from the Shastras, the Gita, the Koran, the Bible, the Buddhist scriptures, and all the rest of it. Knowledge is the past, it is all that the mind has known, and as long as the mind is burdened with knowledge, it is incapable of discovering what is real. Only the religious mind can be timelessly creative, and its action is peace, for it reflects the intensity and the fullness of life. Question: Is there anything new in your teaching? Krishnamurti: To find out for yourself is much more important than my asserting `yes' or `no'. It is your problem, not my problem. To me, all this is totally new, because it has to be discovered from moment to moment; it cannot be stored up after discovery, it is not something to be experienced, and then retained as memory - which would be putting new wine in old bottles. It must be discovered as one lives from day to day, and it is new to the person who so discovers it. But you are always comparing what is being said with what has been said by some saint, or by Shankara, Buddha, or Christ. You say, "All these people have said this before, and you are only giving it another twist, a modern expression" - so naturally it is nothing new to you. It is only when you have ceased to compare, when you have put away Shankara, Buddha, Christ, with all their knowledge, information, so that your mind is alone, clear, no longer influenced, controlled, compelled, either by modern psychology, or by the ancient sanctions and edicts - it is only then that you will find out whether or not there is something new, everlasting. But that requires vigour, not indolence; it demands a drastic cutting away of all the things that one has read or been told about truth and God. That which is eternal, new, is a living thing, therefore it cannot be made permanent; and a mind that wants to make it permanent will never find it. Question: Listening to you, one feels that you have read a great deal, and are also directly aware of reality. If this is so, then why do you condemn the acquisition of knowledge? Krishnamurti: I will tell you why. It is a journey that must be taken alone, and there can be no journeying alone if your companion is knowledge. If you have read the Gita, the Upanishads, and modern psychology; if you have gathered information about yourself from the experts, and about what they say you should strive after - such knowledge is an impediment. The treasure is not in books, but buried in your own mind, and the mind alone can discover this treasure. To have self-knowledge is to know the ways of your mind, to be aware of its subtleties, with all their implications; and for that you don't have to read a single book. As a matter of fact, I have not read any of these things. Perhaps as a boy, or a young man, I casually looked at some of the sacred books, but I have never studied them. I do not want to study them, they are tiresome, because the treasure is somewhere else. The treasure is not in the books, nor in your guru, it is in yourself; and the key to it is the understanding of your own mind. You must understand your mind, not according to Patanjali, or according to some psychologist who is clever at explaining things, but by watching yourself, by observing how your mind works, not only the conscious mind, but the deep layers of the unconscious as well. If you watch your mind, play with it, look at it when it is spontaneous, free, it will reveal to you untold treasures; and then you are beyond all the books. But that again requires a great deal of attention, vigour, an intensity of pursuit - not the dilettantism of lazy explanations. So the mind must be free from knowledge; because a mind that is occupied with knowledge can never discover what is. Question: I have tried various systems of meditation, but I don't seem to get very far. What system do you advocate? Krishnamurti: I do not advocate any system, because every system makes the mind a prisoner; and I think it is very important really to understand this. It does not matter what system you practise, what posture you take, how you control your breathing, and all the rest of it, because your mind becomes a prisoner of whatever system you adopt. But there must be meditation; for meditation is a sweet thing, it clarifies the mind, bringing order, and revealing the significance, the fullness, the depth and beauty of life. Without meditation, the mind is shallow, empty, dull, dependent on stimulation. So meditation is necessary - but not the meditation that you do now, which has no value at all; it is a form of self-hypnosis. The problem is not how to meditate, or what system to follow, but to discover for yourself what meditation is. Now, we are going to enter into this question of what meditation is, so don't shut your eyes and go to sleep over it, thinking you are meditating. We are inquiring, and inquiry demands attention, vigour - not closing your eyes and going into a trance, which you are apt to do when you hear that word `meditation'. We are trying to find out what meditation is; and to find out what meditation is, requires meditation. (Laughter.) Sirs, please don't laugh it off. To find out what meditation is, your mind must be meditating, not just following some stupid system based on the teachings of a guru, of Shankara or Buddha. All teachings are stupid the moment they become systems. You and I are trying to find out together what meditation is, and what it means to meditate; we are not concerned with where meditation is going to lead. If you are intent upon finding out where meditation is going to lead, then you will never discover what meditation is, because you are interested in the result, not in the process of meditation. So we are setting out on a journey to find out what is meditation; and to find out, to discover what is meditation, the mind must first be free of systems, must it not? If you are tied to a system, it does not matter whose system it is, you obviously cannot find out what is meditation. You follow a system because you want a result out of it, and that is not meditation; like practising the piano, it is merely the development of a certain faculty. When you follow a system, you may learn a few tricks, but your mind is caught in the system, which prevents you from finding out what is meditation; therefore, to find out, the mind must be free of systems. It is not a question of how to be free; because the moment you say, "How am I to be free of the system in which my mind is caught?", the `how' becomes another system. But if you see the truth that the mind must be free of systems, then it is free, you don't have to ask how. So, being free of systems, the mind must then inquire into the whole problem of concentration. This is a little more abstract, but please follow it. When a child is playing with a toy, the toy absorbs his mind, it holds his attention. He does not give attention to the toy, but the toy attracts him. That is one form of what you call concentration. Similarly, you have phrases, images, symbols, pictures, ideals, which attract and absorb you - at least, you want to be absorbed by these things, as the child is absorbed by the toy. But what happens? You are not as absorbed as the child; other thoughts come in, and you try to fix your mind on the chosen image or symbol, so you have a battle. There is contradiction, strife, a ceaseless effort to concentrate, but you never quite achieve it. This effort is what you call meditation. You spend your time trying to concentrate, which any child can do the moment he is interested in something; but you are not interested, so your concentration is a form of exclusion. Now, is there attention without anything absorbing the mind? Is there attention without concentrating upon an object? Is there attention without any form of motive, influence, compulsion? Can the mind give full attention without any sense of exclusion? Surely it can, and that is the only state of attention; the others are mere indulgence, or tricks of the mind. If you can give full attention without being absorbed in something, and without any sense of exclusion, then you will find out what it is to meditate; because in that attention there is no effort, no division, no struggle, no search for a result. So meditation is a process of freeing the mind from systems, and of giving attention without either being absorbed, or making an effort to concentrate. Meditation is also a process of freeing the mind from its own projections; and its projections take place when the mind is occupied with the past. That is, when the mind is full of experiences, which are a result of the past, it inevitably projects and is caught in the images or ideations of the past. To project an image of Rama, Seeta, Christ, Buddha, or Mataji, and then worship that projection, is a form of self-hypnosis which does bring extraordinary visions, a state of trance, and all the rest of that nonsense; but meditation is the process of freeing the mind from the past, so that there are no such projections at all. So the worshipping of a projection, however noble, is not meditation. And meditation is not prayer - the prayer which demands, petitions, begs for some result. Nor is meditation the pursuit of virtue, which becomes a self-centred activity. When the mind is free from the hypnosis of the past, from the pursuit of its own activities, its own projections, when it is no longer experiencing the things it has learned, then you will find out what meditation is. Then you will never ask how to meditate, because from morning till night, in whatever you are doing, subtle, hidden, the perfume of meditation is there. But merely closing your eyes, repeating some phrases, fingering the beads, is utterly vain. These things do not free the mind at all; on the contrary, the mind becomes a slave to them. It is the inquiry into what is meditation that has significance, that has great depth and vision, not the inquiry into what system to follow. It is only the stupid, arrogant mind that wants a system. The free mind never asks how, but is always discovering, moving, living. BOMBAY 8TH PUBLIC TALK 28TH MARCH 1956 This is the end of the present series of meetings, and I wonder what most of us have made of these talks and discussions. What have we understood, how far have we penetrated into our problems and comprehended them? Have we merely listened to find an answer, a solution to our problems, a practical way of dealing with everyday suffering and the trials of existence? Or have we broken through to a wider and deeper awareness of ourselves, so that independently and freely we can resolve the problems which inevitably arise in our life? I think it is very important, after having listened to these talks and discussions, to discover for oneself what one has understood, and how that understanding operates in one's daily activities. Obviously, mere listening divorced from action has very little meaning; and I feel it would be utterly useless and vain to attend these meetings without having something come of it - not something that is put together, a conclusion logically arrived at, or a plan systematically thought out for future activity, but rather the breaking down of the mind's narrow walls of conditioning which make it incapable of seeing the totality of things. Whether those walls have been broken down in listening to these talks is the only significant question, not how much one has learnt from whatever has been said. What matters is to discover for ourselves our own conditioning and to break it down spontaneously, easily, almost unconsciously; because it is not the deliberate thought, with its particular action, but rather the spontaneous and almost unconscious falling away of this conditioning, that is going to free the mind. So, considering the present state of society, the utter confusion we are in - with wars, inequality, various forms of degradation. and the constant battle within and without - , it seems to me very important for those of us who have taken these talks seriously to find out if we have brought about a radical change in ourselves; because, after all, it is only the individual, not circumstances, that can bring about a radical change. When we merely yield to the change of circumstances, the mind resolves its problems on a very superficial level, therefore it becomes petty and incapable of seeing the whole. I think it is the comprehension of the whole, of the total, the limitless, or even a slight opening in the conditioned mind, that is going to resolve our problems, and not the process of dissecting and analyzing our problems one by one. A tree is made up, not only of the trunk, the branches, the leaves, the blossoms, and the fruit, but also of the roots hidden deep in the earth; and without understanding all that, without having a feeling for the totality of it, you can never experience the fullness, the beauty of the tree. Now, it seems to me that what most of us are doing is very unfortunate. By trying to understand our daily struggles and miseries separately, that is, through the gradual accumulation of knowledge, we think we shall understand the totality of life. But putting many parts together does not make the whole. By putting together leaves, branches, a trunk, and some roots, you will not have a tree; and yet that is what we are doing. We are approaching the problems of life separately, not as a unitary process; and the whole cannot be comprehended through analytical, cumulative knowledge. Knowledge has its place; but knowledge becomes a hindrance, a complete barrier to the discovery of the truth in its totality, in its beauty, for which the mind must be extraordinarily simple. Most of you are concerned with what to do, you want to know what practical results you have gained by listening to these talks. I am sure many of you have asked yourselves that question, and others have put it to me. I sincerely hope that you have gained nothing practical; because the mind seeks what is practical, what can be used, or carried out, only when it is concerned with the little activities of its own momentum. "How can I practise what I have heard? In what way can I use it?" - all such questions seem to me so superficial, and it is the small mind that puts them, not the mind that sees the totality, the immensity of life, with all its many problems. When one really sees the immensity, the extraordinary depth and width of life, that very perception produces action which is not of the petty mind. What the small, conditioned mind does is to produce activity in its own dimension, and so there is more and more confusion. Why is it that we think in parts, that is, in terms of a particular segment of society? Have you ever asked yourself this question? Is it not because our minds are conditioned by the literature we read, the education we get, the cultural and religious influences we are exposed to from childhood? All these factors condition the mind, and it is this conditioning that makes us think in parts. We think of ourselves as Hindus or Christians, Americans or Russians, as belonging to the Asiatic or the Western world. Here in India we divide ourselves still further; we are Malabaris, Madrasis, or Gujarathis, we belong to this caste or that caste, we read this book or that book. Sir, would you mind not taking photographs now? I do not know what you think these meetings are for. It is too bad that you have to be reminded what kind of gathering this is. When you take photographs, watch people coming in, look to see where your friends are sitting, converse with each other - all this indicates such disrespect, not to me, but to your neighbour and to yourself. When you cannot diligently and purposefully pursue a thought to the end, it shows to what extraordinary superficiality you have reduced yourself. If you will just listen, I feel very strongly that in that very listening you will break down your conditioning; the act of listening is all that is needed. The afterthought, the thought which you accumulate and take away with you to think over, is not going to liberate you. What will break down the wall is giving your full attention now; and you cannot give your full attention if your mind is wandering, if you are distracted. When you are listening to a song which you love, to your favourite music, there is no effort, you just listen and let the music have its own action on you. Similarly, if you will listen now with that kind of attention, with that ease, you will find that the very act of listening does something which has much greater significance than any deliberate effort on your part to hear, to rationalize, and to carry out what is said. I was asking why it is that all of us are thinking in parts, in little segments, when all over the world human beings are struggling with more or less the same problems, having the same anxieties, the same fears and transient joys. Why do we not take this extraordinary life on our earth as a whole, as something which you and I have to understand, not as Indians or Englishmen, Chinese or Germans, communists or capitalists, but as human beings? Is it not because we think in these little segments that we are forever quarrelling, fighting, destroying each other? And this partial thinking, this divided comprehension, takes place because, through education, through social influences, through so-called religious instruction, through books and the interpretation thereof, our minds are conditioned. Only the mind that is unconditioned can be free; and you cannot uncondition the mind by deliberately setting about it. You have to understand the whole process of conditioning, and why the mind is conditioned. Every act, every thought, every movement of the mind, is limited; and with that limited mind we are trying to comprehend something which has the depth and width of all existence. So, the question is not what to do, or whether one has learnt anything practical by attending these meetings. It is not merely by trying to find an answer, a solution to the problem, but rather by listening, by discussing, by deep inquiry, by putting serious and fundamental questions, that the mind's conditioning is broken down. But the conditioning must break down of its own accord, the mind cannot do anything about it. Being conditioned, the mind cannot act upon its own conditioning. A narrow mind trying to be broad will still be narrow. A petty mind may conceive of God, truth, but its conception can only be a projection of its own pettiness. When once the mind realizes this, it no longer formulates what God is, or struggles to be free. It leaves all that entirely alone, because it is now only concerned with inquiring into the whole process of conditioning; and if you are at all serious, you will find that this very inquiry opens the door so that your conditioning is revealed and destroyed. You don't destroy your conditioning; but the very perception of the fact that you are conditioned, brings a vitality which destroys your conditioning. I do not think we see this. The very fact that I am greedy, and know it, has its own vitality to destroy greed. So if we can really inquire into and comprehend why the mind thinks in parts, then I feel we shall have discovered a very important fact about ourselves; and it is out of this questioning that individuality comes into being. At present we are not free individuals, we are conditioned by society and are merely the playthings of environment; but if the mind can inquire into and thereby free itself from that conditioning, then there emerges the free individual who does not follow, who has no authority, no leader; and with this uninfluenced state of mind, there comes the creativity which is not of time. So, if I may suggest, don't inquire to find out what you can learn. If you are merely listening in order to learn, then you create a teacher whom you follow. Surely, what matters is to be very clear that your mind is limited, conditioned, which is an obvious fact, and that whatever solution the petty mind may find, it is still petty. The very realization of this fact - that you are conditioned, and that your values, your opinions, your learning, your judgments, are petty, dull, empty - is the beginning of humility. It is not the mind that has cultivated humility, but the mind that is simple, humble, that is ever in a state of not-knowing - it is only such a mind that can find the unknowable. The mind that is pursuing virtue, respectability, that is seeking a system or a practical philosophy to live by in this world, will never find the unknowable. But the mind that understands its own conditioning, and so becomes simple, humble; the mind that is not accumulating, that is uncertain, always in a state of not-knowing, and is therefore a living, moving, dynamic thing - it is such a mind that can experience the unknowable, or allow the unknowable to be. Question: It often seems to me that you give the gloomy rather than the happy side of life. Do you deliberately do this? Krishnamurti: Sir, our life is both gloomy and cheerful, dark and light. It would be terrible and destructive if life were nothing but light, good cheer, happiness, or nothing but darkness; but life is not like that, is it? Life has extraordinary variety. But unfortunately, you want to cling to the light, to the pleasurable, to the beautiful, and put all the rest away; and you call gloomy any man who says, "Look, there is also the other side, and if you really understand it, I think there will come into being an entirely different state". You see, we have divided life as happiness and unhappiness, so we are all the time battling between these two. We know that life sometimes has delight, but for most of us, life is sorrow. For those who have money, position, authority, respectability, life may be gay; but that makes the mind very superficial, as is shown in modern civilization. Whereas, if each one of us understands the whole significance of sorrow and joy as a total process, not as opposites in conflict with each other, then perhaps we shall find that life is neither sorrow nor joy, but something entirely different which is not of this dualistic quality; and if we have never tasted or experienced that state, it is only because we are caught in this ceaseless struggle between the opposites. That state beyond the opposites is not a formula, a mere conception, and it must be directly experienced; but you see, it cannot be directly experienced as long as the mind is seeking happiness. Happiness is a by-product; like virtue, it is of secondary importance. The man who is pursuing happiness will never be happy, for happiness comes upon us suddenly, obscurely, unexpectedly. Have you not noticed that the moment you know you are happy, you have lost happiness? When you say, "I am joyous", it is over, finished. Happiness, like love, is something of which the mind can never be conscious. The moment the mind is conscious that it loves, there is no longer love. It is very strange, and very interesting, that a mind which is deliberately trying to experience something, loses the whole perfume of life. This is not a poetical saying to be brushed aside, but rather a fact to be realized. The mind must not seek anything, because what it seeks it will experience; and what it then experiences is not the truth, for in its very search it has projected what it wants. That projection is out of the past, it has already been tasted; therefore the projection, and the attainment of that projection, are not happiness, but a delusion, a process of self-hypnosis. Once you realize this, if you are at all serious and deeply interested, you will find that your mind is always empty, ever experiencing and never gathering. But our minds are full, are they not? They are full of acquired virtue; they are constantly occupied with pursuing the ideal, seeking God, truth, this or that; therefore there is always a conditioned response. So what matters is to understand that, in its very search, the mind creates its own hindrance; because what it finds will be the projection of its own desire. When the mind deeply realizes this, all seeking comes to an end; the mind is very quiet, alert, and then there comes into being a different state altogether. When you begin to understand sorrow, to observe how it arises; when you go into it, cherish it, and do not merely resist it, then you will find that the mind is not caught in sorrow, or in its opposite, because such a mind is empty in the deep sense of that word. Most minds are empty in the superficial sense that they are perpetually occupied with problems. I do not mean that kind of emptiness. I am talking of the emptiness which has extraordinary depth and width; and a mind that is everlastingly occupied with problems and immediate solutions, cannot be empty in that deep sense of the word. Question: What is psychosomatic disease, and can you suggest ways to cure it? Krishnamurti: I do not think it is possible to find ways to cure psychosomatic disease; and perhaps the very search for a way to cure the mind, is producing the disease. To find a way, or to practise a method, implies inhibiting, controlling, suppressing thought, which is not to understand the mind. It is fairly obvious that the mind does create disease in the physical organism. If you eat when you are angry, your tummy is upset; if you violently hate somebody, you have a physical disorder; if you restrict your mind to a particular belief, you become mentally or psychically neurotic, and it reacts upon the body. This is all part of the psychosomatic process. Of course, not all diseases are psychosomatic; but fear, anxiety, and other disturbances of the psyche, do produce physical diseases. So, is it possible for the mind to be made healthy? Many of us are concerned with keeping the body healthy through right diet, and so on, which is essential; but very few are concerned with keeping the mind healthy, young, alert, vital, so that it does not deteriorate. Now, if the mind is not to deteriorate, it must obviously never follow, it must be independent, free. But our education does not help us to be free; on the contrary, it helps us to fit into this deteriorating society, therefore the mind itself deteriorates. We are encouraged from childhood to be fearful, competitive, to think always about ourselves and our own security. Naturally, such a mind must be in everlasting conflict, and that conflict does produce physical effects. What is important, then, is to discover and understand for ourselves, through our own vigilant watchfulness, the whole process of conflict, and not depend on any psychologist or guru. To follow a guru is to destroy your mind. You follow him because you want what you think he has; therefore you have set going a process of deterioration. The effort to be somebody, mundanely or spiritually, is another form of deterioration, because such effort always brings anxiety; it produces fear, frustration, making the mind unhealthy, which in turn affects the body. I think this is fairly simple. But to look to another for the cure of the mind, is part of the process of deterioration. Question: You have suggested that through awareness alone transformation is possible. What do you mean by awareness? Krishnamurti: Sir, this is a very complex question; but I shall try to describe what it is to be aware, if you will kindly listen and patiently follow it step by step, right through to the end. To listen is not just to follow what I am describing, but actually to experience what is being described, which means watching the operation of your own mind as I describe it. If you merely follow what is being described, then you are not aware, observant, watchful of your own mind. Merely to follow a description is like reading a guide-book while the scenery goes by unobserved; but if you watch your own mind while listening, then the description will have significance, and you will find out for yourself what it means to be aware. What do we mean by awareness? Let us begin at the simplest level. You are aware of the noise that is going on, you are aware of the cars, the birds, the trees, the electric lights, the people sitting around you, the still sky, the breathless air. Of all that you are aware, are you not? Now, when you hear a noise, or a song, or see a cart being pushed, and so on, what is heard, or observed, is translated, judged by the mind; that is what you are doing, is it not? Please follow this slowly. Each experience, each response, is interpreted according to your background, according to your memory. If there were a noise which you were hearing for the first time, you would not know what it was; but you have heard the noise a dozen times before, so your mind immediately translates it, which is the process of what we call thinking. Your reaction to a particular noise is the thought of a cart being pushed, which is one form of awareness. You are aware of colour, you are aware of different faces, different attitudes, expressions, prejudices, and so on. And if you are at all alert, you are also aware of how you respond to these things, not only superficially, but deeply. You have certain values, ideals, motives, urges, on different levels of your being; and to be conscious of all that is part of awareness. You judge what is good and what is bad, what is right and what is wrong; you condemn, evaluate, according to your background, that is, according to your education and the culture in which you have been brought up. To see all this is part of awareness, is it not? Now, let us go a little further. What happens when you are aware that you are greedy, violent, or envious? Let us take envy, and stick to that one thing. Are you aware that you are envious? Please go with me step by step, and bear in mind that you are not following a formula. If you make it into a formula, you will have lost the significance of the whole thing. I am unfolding the process of awareness; but if you merely learn by heart what has been described, you will be exactly where you are now. Whereas, if you begin to see your conditioning, which is to be aware of the operation of your own mind as I go on explaining, then you will come to the point where an actual transformation is possible. So you are aware, not only of outward things and your interpretation of them, but you have also begun to be aware of your envy. Now, what happens when you are aware of envy in yourself? You condemn it, don't you? You say that it is wrong, that you must not be envious, that you must be loving, which is the ideal. The fact is that you are envious, while the ideal is what you should be. In pursuing the ideal, you have created a duality; so there is a constant conflict, and in that conflict you are caught. Are you aware, as I am describing this process, that there is only one thing, which is the fact that you are envious? The other, the ideal, is nonsense, it is not an actuality. And it is very difficult for the mind to be free of the ideal, to be free of the opposite; because traditionally, through centuries of a particular culture, we have been taught to accept the hero, the example, the ideal of the perfect man, and to struggle towards it. That is what we have been trained to do. We want to change envy into non-envy, but we have never found out how to change it; and so we are caught in everlasting strife. Now, when the mind is aware that it is envious, that very word `envious' is condemnatory. Are you following, sirs? The very naming of that feeling is condemnatory; but the mind cannot think except in words. That is, a feeling arises with which a certain word is identified, so the feeling is never independent of the word. The moment there is a feeling like envy, there is naming, so you are always approaching a new feeling with an old idea, an accumulated tradition. The feeling is always new, and it is always translated in terms of the old. Now, can the mind not name a feeling like envy, but come to it afresh, anew? The very naming of that feeling is to make it old, to capture it and put it into the old framework. And can the mind not name a feeling - that is, not translate it by calling it a name, and thereby either condemning or accepting it - , but merely observe the feeling as a fact? Sir, experiment with yourself and you will see how difficult it is for the mind not to verbalize, not to give a name to a fact. That is, when one has a certain feeling, can that feeling be left unnamed, and be looked at purely as a fact? If you can have a feeling and really pursue it to the end without naming it, then you will find that something very strange happens to you. At present the mind approaches a fact with an opinion, with evaluation, with judgment, with denial or acceptance. That is what you are doing. There is a feeling, which is a fact, and the mind approaches that fact with a term, with an opinion, with judgment, with a condemnatory attitude, which are dead things. Do you understand? They are dead things, they have no value, they are only memory operating on the fact. The mind approaches the fact with a dead memory, therefore the fact cannot operate on the mind. But if the mind merely observes the fact without evaluation, without judgment, condemnation, acceptance or identification, then you will find that the fact itself has an extraordinary vitality because it is new. What is new can dispel the old; therefore there is no struggle not to be envious: there is the total cessation of envy. It is the fact that has vigour, vitality, not your judgments and opinions about the fact; and to think the thing right through, from the beginning to the end, is the whole process of awareness. Question: Why is there such fear of death? Krishnamurti: Again, if I may suggest it, let us think the problem right through to the end, and not stop halfway, or wander off at a tangent. We know that the body deteriorates and dies; the heart beats only so many times in so many years, and the whole physical organism, being in constant use, must inevitably wear out and come to an end. We are not afraid of that, it is a common, everyday event, and we often see the body being carried away to be burnt. But then we say, "Is that all? With the ending of the body, will the things I have gathered, my learning, my love, my virtue, also end? And if all that does end, then what is the good of living?" So we begin to inquire, we want to know whether there is annihilation or continuity after death. This is not a problem merely for the superstitious or the so-called educated; it is a problem for each one of us, and we must find out for ourselves the truth of the matter, neither accepting nor rejecting, neither believing nor being sceptical. The man who is afraid of death, and therefore clings to belief in reincarnation, in this or that, will never find out the truth of the matter; but a mind that really wants to know, and is trying to find out what is true, is in quite a different state; and that is what we are doing here. Now, what is it that continues? Do you understand, sirs? How do you know you have continued from yesterday, and that, if all goes well and there is no accident, you will continue through today to tomorrow? You know that only through memory, do you not? Let us keep it very simple, and not philosophize or introduce a lot of words. So I know I exist only because of memory. The mere statement that I exist has no meaning; but I know I exist because today I remember having existed yesterday, and I hope to exist tomorrow. So the thread of continuity is memory - the memory which has been accumulating for centuries, which has gone through a great many experiences, distortions, frustrations, sorrows, joys, the endless struggle of ambition. We want all that to continue; and because we do not know what is going to happen to it when the body dies, fear comes into being. That is one fact. And why do we divide death from living? It may be altogether wrong to divide them. It may be that living is dying - and perhaps that is the beauty of living. But living is something which most of us have not fully grasped or understood, nor have we understood what death is; so we are afraid of living, and we are afraid of death. Now, what do we mean by living? Living is not merely going to the office, or passing examinations, or having children, or the everlasting struggle for bread and butter; that is only part of it. Living also implies seeing the trees, the sunlight on the river, a bird on the wing, the moon through the clouds; it is to be aware of smiles and tears, of turmoils and anxieties; it is to know love, to be gentle, compassionate, and to perceive the extraordinary depth and width of existence. Do we know all that? Or do we know only a little part of it, the part which is made up of my struggle, my job, my family, my virtue, my religion, my caste, my country? All we know is the `me', with its self-centred activities, and that is what we call life. So we do not know what living is. We have divided living from dying, which shows that we have not understood the whole depth and width of life, in which death may be included. I think death is not something apart from life. It is only when we die every day to all the things we have gathered - to our knowledge, our experiences, to all our virtues - that we can live. We do not live because we are continuing from yesterday, through today, to tomorrow. Surely, only that which comes to an end has a beginning; but we never come to an end. Again, this is not just poetical saying, so don't brush it aside. We have no beginning because we are not dying; we never know a timeless moment, and so we are concerned about death. For most of us, living is a process of struggle and tears; and what we are frightened of is not the unknown, which we call death, but of losing all that we have known. And what do we know? Not very much. This is not cynical, but factual. What do we actually know? Hardly anything. Our names, our little bank accounts, our jobs, our families, what other people have said in the Gita, the Bible, or the Upanishads, the various preoccupations of a superficial life - these things we know; but we do not know the depths of our own being. So we are covering the unknown with the known, and we are afraid to let go of, to renounce, the known. But to renounce in order to find God, is not renunciation; it is merely another form of seeking a reward. A man who renounces the world in order to find God, will never find God, because he is still out to get something. There is total renunciation only when there is no asking for anything, no laying up for tomorrow, which is to die to everything of yesterday. Then you will find that death is not something to be afraid of and run away from, nor does it demand belief in the beyond. It is the known that captures and holds us, not the unknown; and the mind is full of the known. It is only when the mind is free from the known, that the unknown can be. Death and life are one; and death is to be experienced, not at the last moment through disease and corruption, or accident, but while we are living, and the mind is vigorous. You see, sirs, timelessness is a state of mind; and as long as we are thinking in terms of time, there is death and the fear of death. Timelessness is not to be glibly talked about, but to be directly experienced; and there can be no experiencing of timelessness as long as there is a continuity of all the things that one has gathered. So the mind must be free from all its accumulations, and only then is there the coming into being of the unknown. What we are afraid of is letting go of the known; but a mind that is not dead to the known, free from the known, can never experience the extraordinary state of timelessness. March 28, 1956 Stockholm 1956 - 1st Public Talk 2nd Public Talk 3rd Public Talk 4th Public Talk 5th Public Talk 6th Public Talk Brussels 1956 - 1st Public Talk 2nd Public Talk 3rd Public Talk 4th Public Talk 5th Public Talk 6th Public Talk Hamburg 1956 - 1st Public Talk 2nd Public Talk 3rd Public Talk 4th Public Talk 5th Public Talk 6th Public Talk - Athens 1956 - 1st Public Talk 2nd Public Talk 3rd Public Talk New Delhi 1956 - 1st Public Talk 2nd Public Talk 3rd Public Talk 4th Public Talk 5th Public Talk 6th Public Talk Madras 1956 - 1st Public Talk 2nd Public Talk 3rd Public Talk 4th Public Talk 5th Public Talk Colombo 1957 - 1st Public Talk 2nd Public Talk 3rd Public Talk 4th Public Talk 5th Public Talk Bombay 1957 - 1st Public Talk 2nd Public Talk 3rd Public Talk 4th Public Talk 5th Public Talk 6th Public Talk STOCKHOLM, SWEDEN 1ST PUBLIC TALK 14TH MAY 1956 I think it is important to understand the relationship between the speaker and the audience, between you and me, because I do not represent India at all, or Indian philosophy, nor am I going to speak of the ideals and teachings of the East. I think our human problems, whether we are of the East or the West, are similar. We may each have different customs, different habits, different values and thoughts, but fundamentally I think we all have the same problems. We have many problems, have we not? - social, economic, and more especially, perhaps, religious problems - , and at present we all approach these problems differently. We approach them only partially, either as a Christian, a Hindu, a Communist, or what you will, or we separate them as problems which are Oriental or Occidental. And because we approach our problems partially, through all these various forms of conditioning, it seems to me that we are thereby not understanding them. I feel that the approach to any problem is of much more significance than the problem itself, and that if we could approach our many difficulties without any particular form of conditioning or prejudice, then perhaps we would come to a fundamental understanding of them. So I would suggest that it is very important that we should each discover for ourselves in what way we are at present approaching the many human problems which beset us; because unless we are very clear about this, then however much we may struggle to understand the complex issues of life and all the confusion and contradiction in which we are caught, I feel we shall not be able to do so. That is why I think it would be really worthwhile if we could go into the beliefs, prejudices, dogmas and ideas which in various forms are at present corrupting the mind and preventing it from being free to discover what is truth, reality, God, or what you will. And I assure you it needs extraordinary earnestness to do this - to uncover as we go along the many hindrances to understanding and to see how the mind - which is, after all, the only instrument of discovery we have - is blunted by the many thoughts, emotions, fears, habits and conditionings of which it is made up. To do this I think it is essential not to listen to what is being said as if it were merely a lecture or a discourse - which it is not - , but rather to follow as we go along, each one of us, the reactions and responses of our own minds. For what is important, surely, is to understand the actual working of one's own mind. Mere agreement or opposition does not create understanding; it only creates confusion and contradiction, does it not? Whereas, if we can follow patiently and intelligently what is being said, without judging, without comparing, without agreeing or opposing, so that we see the functioning of our own minds, then perhaps we shall discover for ourselves how to approach our many problems. Our thinking has become dependent on our surroundings, because we are caught in so many prejudices - nationalistic, ideological, religious, and all the rest of it. We are ever looking for security, for some means of self-confidence, both inwardly and outwardly, are we not? And it seems to me that so long as we are caught in this pursuit of security, in this search for self-confidence and certainty, we are not free to examine our problems and to find out if there is a lasting solution. Surely it is only in understanding ourselves, in watching the process of our own minds - which is, after all, self-knowledge - that there is a possibility of discovering for ourselves what is true, what is reality. For this no teacher, no guide, no textbook or other authority is necessary. To follow and comprehend the ways of our own thinking and feeling is to be able to dissolve our own problems, which are the problems of society also. But it is very difficult for us not to think in a particular fashion, according to a particular set of values, dogmas, beliefs, or theories. We are so eager to arrive at a solution or an answer to our problems that we never stop to consider whether the instrument we are using, which is the mind - my mind and your mind - is really free to investigate. A mind which is burdened with knowledge, beliefs, theories, is obviously not free to investigate and find out what is true. Whereas, if we can understand and dissolve the conditioning, the prejudices and dogmas which cloud and twist our minds, then perhaps the mind will be free to discover, so that the truth itself can operate on the problem, rather than the mind struggling to come to a solution through its own conditioning -which does not lead anywhere. That is why I feel it is so important to know how to listen. Very few of us really listen; very few of us hear or see anything really clearly, because what we are observing or listening to is immediately interpreted, translated by our own minds in terms of our particular ideas and idiosyncrasies. We think we are understanding, but surely we are not. We are so distracted by our own opinions and knowledge, by approval or disapproval, that we never see the problem as it is. But if we can put aside our own particular points of view, and by listening, and following the operation of our own minds, see what is actually the fact, then I think we shall find that quite a different process is taking place which will enable us to look at our problems freely and clearly. That is why I feel that one should listen totally. At present we listen with only a part of the mind, and it is very difficult for us to give complete attention - not only to what is being said now, but to all that is happening to us in our lives. We have so many problems, religious, social and economic, as well as the problems of life, of survival, of death; and the very process of our own thinking is, it seems to me, increasing these problems. The way of our own thinking, which is the mind, yours and mine, is conditioned, is it not? It is conditioned by the religion we have been brought up in, by our nationality, political outlook, economic circumstances, and by innumerable other influences. All of these have shaped, moulded our minds in a certain way; and if we would be free of this pressure and influence it is surely useless merely to discard any particular form of authority in order to seek some new form, some new method, some new belief. Yet this is what we are always doing. Surely it is only the mind that is completely free from all conscious or unconscious authority, that is able to discover if there is any reality beyond the mere conceptions of the mind. The free mind is the mind that is empty of all belief, of all patterns of thought - the unconscious as well as the conscious, the hidden as well as the obvious. At present all our thinking is the result of our particular conditioning, it comes from our accumulated experiences, memories, fears, hopes. Such a mind is obviously not free. There is freedom only when the entire thought process is understood and transcended, and only then is it possible for a new mind, a fresh mind, to come into being. So, can the mind free itself from its own conditioning and look at its problem anew? Can the mind be free? - not as a Christian, a Hindu, a Swede, a Communist, or what you will, nor merely in the sense of giving up some particular ideal, belief, or habit, but free to discover; which means going beyond all the influences and contradictions of the mind and of society. Now, how does the mind respond to all this? To respond with agreement or disagreement is surely vain, for such response is obviously the product of our own background, our own accumulated knowledge and belief. But to experiment with oneself is, it seems to me, really worthwhile. So can we investigate intelligently, patiently, and find out if it is at all possible to free one's own mind from all particularity, from all influence and authority, so that it is able to go beyond its own activities? Otherwise our lives will be very shallow, empty - and perhaps that is the case with most of us. We have masses of information, knowledge, innumerable beliefs, creeds, dogmas, but really we are very shallow and unhappy. Although in some countries they have established outward, economic security, nevertheless inwardly, psychologically, the individual remains uncertain, unsure. And the outward, physical security which all human beings want and need, whatever their nationality, is made impossible for us all because of our demand for inward, psychological security. The very demand for inward security prevents understanding. It is only when the mind is no longer acquisitive, no longer seeking or demanding anything, that it is free to find out what is true, what is God. That is why it is very important to understand ourselves - not analytically, with one part of the mind analysing another part, which merely leads to further confusion, but actually to be aware, without judgment or condemnation, of the way we act, the words we use, of all our various emotions, our hidden thoughts. If we can look at ourselves dispassionately, so that the hidden emotions are not pressed back but invited forth and understood, then the mind becomes really quiet; and only then there is the possibility of leading a full life. These are the things which I think we should explore together. We can help each other to find the door to reality, but each one must open that door for himself; and this, it seems to me, is the only positive action. So there must be in each one of us an inward, religious revolution; for it is only this inward, religious revolution which will totally change the way of our thinking. And to bring about this revolution, there must be the silent observation of the responses of the mind, without judgment, condemnation, or comparison. At present the mind is uncreative, in the true sense of that word, is it not? It is a made-up thing, put together through the accumulations of memory. As long as there is envy, ambition, self-seeking, there can be no creativeness. So it seems to me that all we can do is to understand ourselves, the ways of our own mind; and this process of understanding is an enormous task. It is not to be done casually, later on, tomorrow, but rather every day, every moment, all the time. To understand ourselves is to be aware spontaneously, naturally, of the ways of our own thinking, so that we begin to see all the hidden motives and intentions which lie behind our thoughts, and thereby bring about the liberation of the mind from its own binding and limiting processes. Then the mind is still; and in that stillness something which is not of the mind can come into being of its own accord. There are some questions, and I think it would be worthwhile to find out what we mean by `asking a question', and what we mean by `getting an answer'. After all, to any of the big, fundamental questions - of love, of life, of death and the hereafter - , are there any answers? We ask questions only when we are confused, do we not; and therefore the answers must also be confused. That is why it is very important not to look to others for answers, but rather to look directly at the problem for ourselves. So the difficulty is not in asking a question, or receiving an answer; it is to see the problem clearly. And when there is clarity, there are no questions and no answers. Question: We Swedes do not as a rule like to tackle the problems of life only with the mind, leaving the emotions aside. Is it possible to solve any problem only with the mind, or only by the emotions? Krishnamurti: Do you think you can so easily divide the emotions from the mind? Or do we mean, not emotion, but sentiment? We are all sentimental, are we not; and we would all like to get answers which give us a sense of satisfaction, security -which is surely a very superficial approach. To understand any problem there must be keenness of mind; and when it is blunted by opinions, judgments, tradition, fears, the mind is not keen. It is not with the mind alone, or with the emotions alone, that we look at anything fully; it is with the totality of our whole being. And that is a very difficult thing to do - to look at something totally, fully and freely. It is very difficult to look at the problem of death, of love, of sex, and so on, with one's whole being, because all the time one is building up an answer, a belief, or a theory. If the answer is pleasant to us, we accept it; if it is unpleasant, we reject it. And we can never look at a problem totally so long as the mind is merely demanding an answer, seeking a way of living, an inward security. Most of us are trying to understand our problems with a mind that is confused; and we are confused, though most of us do not admit it. When a man is confused, whatever his actions may be, they will only lead to further confusion and misery. So if we are concerned with clearing up the confusion in the world, we must first discover and acknowledge to ourselves that we are confused -completely. But when we do realize that we are confused, most of us want to act immediately on that confusion, to do something about it, to reform, to alter ourselves - which only accentuates the confusion; and it is very difficult to stop all this fruitless activity, which is merely a running away from the actual, from what is. Only when one stops running away and faces the fact of one's confusion with the totality of one's being, is there the possibility of dissolving that confusion. No one can do this for us; we must do it ourselves. Question: Juvenile delinquency is increasing. What is the reason and what is the remedy? Krishnamurti: Are not the roots of this problem buried in the whole structure of modern society? And is not society the outcome of what we are? We are at war with each other, are we not?, because we all want to be somebody in this society; we are all trying to achieve success, to get somewhere, to acquire virtue and become something. Politically, economically, socially and religiously, we want to arrive, to have the best or to be the best, and in this process there is fear, envy, greed, ambition, ruthlessness. Our whole society is based on this process. And we want our children to fit into society, to be like ourselves, to conform to the pattern of so-called culture. But within this pattern there is revolt, among the children as among the grown-ups. The problem is even more complex when we consider the whole system of education. We have to find out what we mean by education. What is the purpose of education? Is it to make us conform, to fit into society? - which is what we are doing now with our children. Or does education consist in helping the child, the student, to be aware of all the conditioning influences -nationalistic, religious, and so on - and be free of them? If we are serious about this - and we should be serious - , we will really study the child, will we not? We will not subject him to some particular influence or authority and thereby mould him into a pattern, but will help him to be aware of all influences, so that he can grow in freedom. We will observe him constantly and carefully - be aware of the books he reads, with their glorified heroes, watch him in his work, in his play, in his rest - and will help him to be unconditioned and free. To help the child to be aware of all the nationalistic tendencies, the prejudices and religious beliefs which condition the mind, really means, does it not?, that we must be aware first of our own ways of thinking. After all, we grown-ups do not know how to live together, we are everlastingly battling with each other and within ourselves. This battle, this struggle, projects itself into society; and into that society we want to fit the child. We cannot change society; only the individual can change. But we are not individuals, are we? We are caught up in the mass, in society; and so long as we do not understand ourselves and free the mind from its self-imposed limitations, how can we help the child? Question: Can one live in the world without ambition? Does it not isolate us, to be without ambition? Krishnamurti: I think this is a fundamental question. We can see what ambition makes of the world. Everybody wants to be something. The artist wants to be famous, the schoolboy wants to become the President, the priest wants to be the bishop, and so on. Everyone throughout the world is trying, struggling, forcing himself, in order to be important. Even in our education, the boy who is not clever is compared with the boy who is clever - which is utterly stupid. And we see the result of this ambition projected in the world. Each nation is seeking to maintain itself at all costs. Now, the questioner wants to know whether we can be free from this ambition, and if so, whether we shall not be isolated from society. Why is there this fear of being free from ambition, this fear of being alone? Can ambition and love go together? The mind that is seeking all the time to be something, to become great, surely does not know what love is. So long as we are pursuing ambition, we are isolated. We are isolated already, are we not? But, you see, we accept ambition. Whether a man lives in a small village far away, or in a crowded city, if he can call himself something - A Swede, a Hindu, a Dane, or anything else - , then he feels that he is someone. To be respectable, to be known, to have power, position, money, virtue - all these things give us a sense of importance. So it is very difficult not to be ambitious. The man who is as nothing is without fear, without ambition; he is alone, but not isolated. To free oneself from ambition requires a great deal of insight, intelligence and love; but such a man, who is as nothing, is not isolated. May 14, 1956 STOCKHOLM, SWEDEN 2ND PUBLIC TALK 15TH MAY 1956 I think it would be worthwhile this evening if we could attempt something which might be rather difficult but perhaps important to go into. I wonder if we can discover what it is that most of us are seeking, and whether what we are seeking has any validity, and real basis. Perhaps we are seeking something which we cannot properly articulate to ourselves. Or we may hope to find something that will be deeply satisfactory, that will give us some measure of happiness or certainty. Until we have discovered what it is that we are seeking, I think our lives must be uncertain, chaotic, and contradictory. It is really very difficult to find out what we are seeking, because we do not know for ourselves the motives, the urges, the drives that are forcing us to seek at all. Obviously, as you have all come here to listen, you are seeking something. But to know what it is we are seeking, we must find out, must we not?, what the drive is behind our search. Most of us are well settled in life; we have homes, families, responsibilities, some position, a job, and so on. But our lives are generally humdrum, routine; there is boredom, a sense of frustration, and we want something more than mere logical conclusions, religious beliefs and ideologies. So I think it would be worthwhile if we could spend this evening trying to find out what it is we are groping after. What is the urge behind this search? Can we put our finger on it? Can we know what it is, this urge? We are concerned, not only with the more superficial urges, compulsions and fears, but we want to know, do we not?, what it is we are seeking with our whole life, our total existence. And can we intelligently find out? Surely, without understanding this seeking, and the pressure, the compulsion behind it, our search may be utterly vain and have no meaning. So, how can one find out for oneself what it is one is after? If we are old we want peace, security, comfort, and if we are young we want pleasure, excitement, success. And if we cannot have success, then we want some kind of self-assertion. So each one of us is groping for something; and what is it? Are we moved by the desire to find out what is true, or whether there is any permanency? Or is it worldly satisfaction we are seeking, a better position in our various environments? I wish we could really go into this matter, because I think that when the urges within one have become very clear to oneself, then life has quite a different meaning. When the mind is free from the compulsion, the drive, the confusion which now exists, there may be no search at all, but something entirely different - the sense of being free. So, can we find out for ourselves what is the drive that is making us seek, that has made us come here to listen? Or are there so many different urges, so many pleasures, that we cannot separate them to find out which is the primary urge? I think it is important to discover the primary urge, otherwise our search has no meaning. Many people are everlastingly talking about seeking God, seeking truth, seeking immortality, virtue, and all the rest of it; but this search has very little meaning, it becomes just a fad. I think it is significant that so few of us who seek have so far discovered for ourselves anything that has real depth and significance. Is it happiness that we are seeking, a sense of self-fulfilment? If we seek without understanding what is behind this urge, our lives remain shallow, for self-fulfilment becomes very important; and to self-fulfilment there is no end. The moment you fulfil yourself, there is always something more in which to be fulfilled. Our urges are so strong, and unless we understand the whole significance of this inward compulsion, it seems to me that mere search has no meaning at all. To find out what we are after, and what is the motive behind it, is surely essential. Being uncertain, confused, afraid, perhaps we want to escape into some kind of fancy that we call reality, some kind of hope, some kind of belief. If we could understand for ourselves why the mind is always seeking security, then we might have, not security, but a new kind of confidence. That is why I think it is important to go into all this. After all, it is a function of society and of government to help to bring about outward security. But the difficulty is that we also want to be secure psychologically, inwardly, and therefore we identify ourselves with the nation, with a religion, an ideology, a belief. We never question whether there is such a thing as inward security at all, but we are always seeking it; and the very search for inward, psychological security actually prevents outward security, does it not? Obviously that is what is happening throughout the world. In our search to be psychologically secure through nationalism, through a leader, through an ideology, physical security is destroyed. So, can the mind which is seeking permanency in everything - in `my country', `my religion', through innumerable dogmas, beliefs, ideas - discover for itself whether there actually is such a thing as permanency, inward security? We have never questioned whether there can ever be security inwardly; and perhaps there is no such thing. It may be this very desire to seek security, permanency for ourselves, both inwardly and outwardly, which is conditioning the mind and preventing the understanding of what is true. So, can the mind free itself from this urge to be secure? It can do so, surely, only when it is completely uncertain - not uncertain in opposition to security, but when it is in a state of not-knowing and not-seeking. After all, one can never find anything new so long as one's mind is burdened with the old, with all the beliefs, fears and hidden compulsions which bring about this search for security. So long as we are seeking security in any form, inward or outward, there must be chaos and misery. And if we observe ourselves, that is what we are doing all the time. Through property, through money, through virtue, position, fame, we are constantly trying to bring about a sense of permanency for ourselves. And is it not important to find out whether the mind can be free of that whole process? Can we actually experience for ourselves the significance of the compulsion behind the urge to be secure? Can we experience it directly, not later on, at another time, but now, as we are discussing? Can we look at this urge to be secure and find out if it has any validity, and from what source it springs? And when we do look, what happens? We feel, do we not?, that if we were not inwardly secure, if we did not identify ourselves with innumerable ideals, ideologies, beliefs, nationalisms, we would be nothing, we would be empty, we would be of no account. So our immediate response is to escape from that sense of emptiness by seeking some form of inward richness, some sense of fulfillment; and we set up leaders to follow, we look for teachings and authorities which we can obey. But the misery, the inward poverty continues; there is everlasting struggle; and we never experience directly, actually, that state of inward insufficiency, inward emptiness. But if we could look at it, experience it directly, which means not running away from it by picking up a book, turning on the radio - you know the innumerable things we do in order to escape - , if we could experience completely what it is, then I think we would find that that emptiness has quite a different significance. But all the time we try to escape, do we not? -through the church, through patriotism, through an ideology or a belief. Whereas, if we could understand the futility of running away from this sense of inward poverty, and would look at it, examine it patiently, without any condemnation, then perhaps it would reveal something totally different. But it is very difficult, is it not?, to be free of the desire to escape from this sense of emptiness, and to be free of fear, ambition, envy. At present we are forever trying to establish our own security through identifying ourselves with something greater, whether it be a person or an idea. But if one is really serious in the endeavour to find truth, reality, or God, one must first of all totally free oneself from all conditioning. This means that one must be able to stand completely alone and look at the truth of what is without seeking any escape. If you will experiment with this you will find that the mind which is willing to go into this whole problem of the search for security, which is willing to look at its own emptiness completely, totally, without any desire to escape -that such a mind becomes very quiet, alone, free, creative. This creativeness is not the outcome of struggle, of effort, of search; it is a state in which the mind, seeing the truth about its own fears and envies, is completely alert and silent. That state may be, and I think it is, the real. Question: Does suffering ultimately lead one to inward peace and awareness? Krishnamurti: I am afraid not. We think suffering is a means to something else - to heaven, to the attainment of peace, and so on -and hence we have made suffering into a virtue. But what do we mean by suffering? How does suffering arise? Suffering is a sense of disturbance, is it not? - an inward, psychological disturbance. I am not now talking of physical suffering, which has its own significance; but what we are talking about is the psychological suffering which comes when we are frustrated, when we are lonely, when we do not understand the process of our own being, the complexity of our own thinking. What happens when we suffer? We try to use it as a means to something else, do we not? - we say it makes us more intelligent, that it leads to peace, to awareness; or we immediately seek to escape from it through ideas, through amusements, through every form of distraction. Suffering comes, does it not?, when there is ignorance, when there is a lack of knowledge of the workings of one's own mind, when the mind is torn by contradictory desires, by loneliness, by comparison, by envy. But when we understand the whole process of ignorance, of envy, when we look at it, face it totally, without any desire to escape or condemn it, then perhaps we shall see that there is no necessity for suffering at all. Peace cannot be found through suffering, or through anything else. It comes only when there is understanding of the workings of one's own mind and when, through that understanding, the thought process comes to an end. Question: Why do you go about the world giving talks? Is it for self-fulfilment, or is it because you think you can help people in that way? Krishnamurti: If I went about talking in order to help people, you would all become followers, would you not? Is that not what is happening throughout the world today? We are all seeking leaders, teachers, to help us out of our confusion, and the only result is that we get more confused, more chaotic. I do not believe in such help, I only believe in total understanding. We all want to be helped, we all want guides, leaders, someone to follow; politically, socially and religiously, that is what we want. And that leads to exploitation, does it not? It leads to the totalitarian spirit - the leader and the led. So long as we depend upon another for inward peace, we shall not find it, for dependence only breeds fear. It is not for that reason I am talking. And is it for self-fulfilment, to have the feeling that one is doing something for others, to feel gratified, popular, and so on? I say it is not. Then why is one talking? I do not think there is any answer to that question, any more than there is an answer if one asks of a flower, "Why do you glow in the sunshine?" If I were trying to help you, or trying to fulfil myself, it would put me in the position of being the one who knows, and you in the position of not knowing; so I would be using you, and you would be using me. Whereas, I think that the moment one is conscious that one knows, one does not know. When a person is aware of his virtue, his humility, or what you will, he is no longer virtuous. What we are trying to do here is to understand ourselves, for self-knowledge alone brings reality. We are not trying to discover who knows, who can help, and who does not know. After all, what is it that we really know? Very little, I think. We may have a lot of technical knowledge, we may know how to build a bridge, how to paint, and so on; but we know very little about ourselves, about the ways of the mind and the urge of ambition, envy. Only the mind that is aware that it does not know, that is totally aware of its own ignorance - only such a mind can be at peace. The mind that has merely gathered experience, accumulated knowledge, or acquired a lot of technical information, is everlastingly in conflict. When the mind is no longer burdened with the memory of the things it has learned, when it is willing to die to all the knowledge it has accumulated, only then can it know what it is to have peace. I think this is a state which most of us have experienced occasionally, a state when the self is entirely absent. But we are so occupied most of the time with superficialities that the real things of life pass us by. Question: I have read an American book which certainly seems to prove through hypnosis that reincarnation is a fact. What comment will you make on this? Krishnamurti: This is rather a complex question, and I think one has to go into it fairly deeply. We all know that there is death. The physical organism will come to an end, because it has been used up and is finished; and we want to know if there is continuity after death. The things that we have known and experienced will all come to an end, and so we ask what will happen to us then. This is a problem all over the world. In the East reincarnation is accepted as a belief, and the questioner says a book has been written which proves, through hypnotism, that a person has lived before; and we want to know whether reincarnation is a fact. I do not know if you have ever felt that thought is independent of the body, independent of the physical organism. We have the organism, the nervous responses, and thought; and so we ask if thought continues after death. Now, what happens when we ask that question? The fact is that we want to continue, do we not? - or else we say we would like to put an end to everything. In both cases the mind is selecting a theory which suits it. Whether you believe or disbelieve in reincarnation, has little significance; but can we discover the truth of the matter, the truth about death? We all like to think that there is a soul which exists everlastingly, and we accept various beliefs which tell us that the soul is a spiritual entity beyond the physical organism. But belief in an idea, however comforting, however reassuring, does not give us the full understanding of what death is. Surely, death is something totally unknown, it is something completely new, and however anxiously we inquire, we cannot find an answer that will satisfy. All that we know is within the field of time, and all that we are is the accumulation of past memories and experiences. We have established our own identity through memory, as `my house', `my name', `my family', `my knowledge', `my country', and we want this `me' to continue in the future. Or else we say "Death is the end of everything", which is no solution either. So, can we discover what is the truth about death? We know that we seek the continuity of the `me'. Thought is ever seeking permanency, and hence we say that there must be some form of continuity. Thought is continuous, is it not; and so long as there is the desire to continue, we give strength to the idea of the `me' and `my importance'. Thought may continue, it may take another shape and form, which is called reincarnation; but does that which continues ever know the immeasurable, the timeless? Can it ever be creative? Surely, God, or truth, or what you will, is not to be found in the field of time. It must be entirely new, not something out of the past, not something created out of our own hopes and fears. And yet the mind wants permanency, does it not? And so it says "God is permanent", and "I shall continue hereafter". So you see, the problem is not whether or not there is reincarnation, but the fact that we are all seeking permanency, security, here and hereafter. So long as the mind is seeking security in any direction, whether it be through name, family, position, virtue, or what you will, suffering must continue. Only the mind which dies from day to day, from moment to moment, to all that it has accumulated, can know what the truth is. And then perhaps we shall discover that there is no division between life and death, but only a totally different state in which time, as we know it, does not exist. May 15, 1956 STOCKHOLM, SWEDEN 3RD PUBLIC TALK 21ST MAY 1956 To those of us who are serious it must be a real problem to find out how to bring about a fundamental change in ourselves. It is obvious that such a change is necessary, and not merely a change forced by circumstances, which is no change at all. The pressure of circumstances may bring about a change, but such change invariably leads to further conflict and stagnation. But if one is concerned with a fundamental change, how is it to be brought about? One sees in the world a great deal of misery, not only physical but psychological: the limitations of the conditioned mind, the constant threat of war, the national and racial divisions, as well as those which the organized religions create with their dogmatism and vain, repeated rituals - we all know of these things. And seeing all this, it must surely be a matter of serious concern for each individual to find out for himself how he can bring about a fundamental, radical change within himself, a change that will set free the mind from the constant pressure of conflict, suffering and limitation. It is obvious that there must be a change; but the difficulty with most of us is, I think, that we do not know how to change. Now, what I mean by change is not merely conforming to a new pattern of thinking, to a new ideology, but a change that is brought about without any form of compulsion or pressure, without influence, and even without motive. Because if one has a motive in bringing about a change, one is back in the old pattern of achievement, ambition. So it must be our concern, I think, to inquire into this question and find out for ourselves how a deep, inward transformation can be brought about. I am going to talk as usual this evening for about twenty or thirty minutes, and then I suggest that we discuss together. You ask me questions, and there will be an exchange between us, so that you and I will get to know what we actually feel and think about this problem. I hope you will agree to this. We think ideals are necessary to bring about this change, do we not? Being violent, we say that the ideal of non-violence will help us to put away that which is violent; we seek to replace violence by what we call non-violence, to replace greed by generosity, and so on. But to me, ideals do not bring about a change; on the contrary, ideals are impediments to a fundamental, radical change. Ideals are merely a means of postponing, an excuse to avoid bringing about a real change. So long as we have an ideal, there is always a conflict between what is and what should be, and we spend a great deal of energy in this inward conflict, through which we hope to bring about a fundamental change. If we are envious, we set up the ideal of non-envy, hoping thereby to free the mind from envy. But if you examine closely this whole process, you will see that the ideal actually prevents the understanding of what is, which is envy. So the ideal is not important, it is an impediment, a thing to be put away completely. Now, what is it that will bring about a change? Can the mind which has been conditioned in a particular pattern, bring about a change? Or does such a mind merely modify the pattern of its thinking, and imagine that it has thereby radically changed? Does not a fundamental change come about only in understanding the whole background in which one has been brought up? Surely, so long as the mind operates within the pattern of a particular society, or a particular religion, there can be no change. However much we may struggle within the pattern, however much we may suffer, a change is not possible so long as we do not understand the pattern in which we live and in which our whole being is caught. The desire to change within the pattern only creates further complications. We spend our time in ceaseless struggle, making vain efforts to change, and there is constant friction between what is and what should be, which is the ideal. So it seems to me that if we are to bring about a fundamental change, it is first necessary to understand the background in which we have been brought up, the pattern in which the mind operates. If we do not understand that pattern, if we are not familiar with our own conditioning, if the whole trend of our education, in which the mind is caught, is not understood, then we merely follow a tradition, which invariably leads to mediocrity. Tradition inevitably cripples and dulls the mind. So it is imperative, surely, to bring about a fundamental change within ourselves; because, though we may be very clever and know a great deal, most of us are very mediocre, empty, shallow, inwardly insufficient, are we not? And to bring about such a change, it is necessary to understand the totality of our background. Until we understand that background, however much we may struggle to change ourselves, it will lead us nowhere. What do we mean by the background? The background is made up of the traditions, the influences in which we have been raised, and the education, the theories, the formulas, the conclusion that we have acquired. If we are not free of all that, which is mere occupation with ideas, any effort to change ourselves must invariably lead to the same kind of respectability or mediocrity; and this struggle, in which we are all caught, can only bring about non-creative thinking. It is only the free mind, surely, that can find out what is true, not the mind that is conditioned by beliefs, ideals and compulsions. If we want to find out if there is a reality beyond the limitations and projections of thought, surely the mind must first be free of all the beliefs, dogmas and traditions, of all the patterns in which it is caught. For it is only the free mind that can discover, and not the mind that is constantly struggling to adjust itself to a particular pattern or ideal, whether imposed upon it by society, or by the mind itself. It seems to me that one of our main difficulties is that we really want to live casual, sluggish, dull lives, with perhaps a little excitement now and then. Our pattern of existence is very shallow, and we are everlastingly struggling in a superficial way to deepen this shallowness through various formulas. I think this shallowness, this emptiness within ourselves, is brought about by not understanding the whole background in which we live, the habitual ways of our thinking; we are not aware of that at all. We are not aware of our thoughts, we do not see from whence they come, what their significance is, what values we are giving to them, and how the mind is caught in dead dreaming, in competition, in ambition, in trying to be something, in adjusting to all the narrow formulas of society. Therefore it is really important, if one would bring about a fundamental change, to be totally free of society. And that is the real revolution: the revolution which comes when we begin to understand the whole pattern of society, of which we are a part. We are not different from society, we are the result of social influences; and we cannot be free from the stamp of social influences so long as we do not understand the whole composition of society. The composition of society is a mixture of greed, envy, ambition, and of all those conditioning beliefs based on fear which are called religion. So it is only the man who steps out of society, who is free from the compulsion of neighbours and tradition, as well as from his own inward envy and ambition - it is only such a man who is really revolutionary, really religious, and only he can find out if there is a reality beyond the projections of our petty little minds. I think this is a very important problem, especially in our world today, which is facing such great crises. Science and so-called civilization may bring about a change, but any such change is invariably superficial; it is merely a yielding to the pressure of circumstances, and so it is no real change at all. Therefore there is no creative release, but merely the pursuit of a routine which is called virtue. But if we can go very deeply into this problem, as we should, then I think we shall be able to understand the background of which we form a part. The background is not different from ourselves, because we are the background. Our minds are a result of the past, with all its traditions, beliefs and dogmas, both conscious and unconscious. And can such a mind ever be free? It can be free only when it begins to understand the whole structure of this background, of the society in which we live. Then only is it possible for the mind to be truly religious, and therefore truly revolutionary. To go into this a little more, verbally at least - and non-verbally also - , perhaps we can try discussing it together. What I have said may be contradictory to what you think, and it might be profitable if we could discuss it easily, naturally, and in a friendly manner, so as to find out more about this problem. But to discuss it is going to be quite difficult. We must all stick to the point and not bring in various issues which are irrelevant. And obviously, to discuss wisely we must not make long speeches. Questioner: Can we reach an understanding of ourselves other than by conscious effort? Krishnamurti: Do we understand anything through effort? If I make an effort to understand what you say, do you think I shall understand? All my attention is given to making the effort, is it not? But if one can listen effortlessly, then perhaps there is a possibility of understanding. In the same way, how am I to understand myself? First of all, surely, I must not assume anything about myself, I must not have a mental picture of myself. I must look at my thoughts, at the way I talk, at my gestures, at my beliefs, as easily as I look at my face in a mirror - just watch them, be aware of them without condemnation; because the moment I condemn, there is no furthering of understanding. If I want to understand, I must look; and I cannot look if I condemn. If I want to understand a child, it is no good comparing him with his older brother, or condemning him. I must watch him when he is playing, crying, eating; and I can watch him only if I have no sense of condemnation or evaluation. In the same way, I can watch myself - not little bits of myself, but the totality of myself - only when there is an awareness in which there is no choice, no condemnation, no comparison. Questioner: Is it possible for any of us, who are living in this particular society, to bring about the change of which you are talking? Krishnamurti: If we as individuals do not bring about this change, how is it to be done? If you and I, living in this society, do not do it, who will? The powerful, the millionaires, the people of great possessions, are not going to do it. It must surely be done by ordinary people like you and me - and I am not saying this rhetorically, stupidly. If you and I see the importance of this change, then it is not courage, but the very perception of the importance of change, which will bring it about. A man may have the courage to stand against the dictates of society; but if is the man who understands the complex problem of change, who understands the whole structure of society, which is himself - it is he alone who becomes an individual and is not merely a representative of the collective. Only the individual who is not caught in society, can fundamentally affect society. You think that courage, strength, conviction is necessary to understand and withstand society. I think that is entirely false. If one deeply feels it is important to effect a real change, that very feeling brings about such a change within oneself. Questioner: A man has a right to go his own way; and if he does so, will not this change come about? Krishnamurti: Are you suggesting, sir, that there can be change through an action of will? Most of us are accustomed to the idea that through will we can bring about a change. Now, what do we mean by will? We generally mean, do we not?, making an effort in one particular direction, suppressing what is in order to reach something else. We exercise will in order to achieve, or to bring about a certain desired change. Will is another word for desire, is it not? Each one of us has many contradictory desires; and when one desire dominates other desires, this domination of one desire over the others we call will. But it is still the domination of one desire over other desires; so there is contradiction, suppression, a ceaseless conflict going on between the dominant desire, which we call will, and the other desires. Now, this conflict can never bring about a change - which is psychologically obvious. So long as I am in conflict within myself there can be no change. There can be a change, not by one desire dominating other desires, but only when I understand the whole structure of desire. That is why it is important to understand the background, the values, the influences, the motives in which the mind is caught. Questioner: You say that in order to bring about a change we must understand the background. Do you mean by this that we must understand reincarnation and karma? Krishnamurti: Karma is a sanskrit word which means action. And reincarnation - you know what that means! I think it is fairly clear that a mind that believes in anything, that adheres to any psychological wish or hope - which comes from fear - lives always within the pattern of that belief; and to struggle within the pattern of any belief is no change at all. A man who merely believes in reincarnation has not understood the whole problem of death and sorrow, and when he believes in that particular theory he is trying to escape from the fact of death. The word `karma' has many problems involved in it. One has to understand the motives of one's actions - the influences, the compulsions, the causes which have brought about the action. Surely, all this is part of the background which must be understood; and belief in reincarnation is also part of the background. The mind that believes is not capable of understanding, because belief is obviously an escape from reality. Questioner: I think it is rather important to know what we mean by seeing and watching. You have said that there is no motive or centre, but only a process. How can a process watch another process? Krishnamurti: This is like a cross-examination! Surely you are not trying to trap me, and I am not trying to answer cleverly. What we are trying to do is to understand the problem, which is very complex; and one or two questions and responses are not going to solve it. But what we can do is to approach it from different directions and look at it as patiently as possible. So the question is this: If there is only a process, and not a centre which observes the process, then how can a process observe itself? The process is active, moving, changing, all the time in motion; and how can that process watch itself if there is no centre? I hope the question is clear to you, otherwise what I am going to say will have no meaning. If the whole of life is a movement, a flux, then how can it be watched unless there is a watcher? Now, we are conditioned to believe, and we feel we know, that there is a watcher as well as a movement, a process; so we think we are separate from the process. To most of us there is the thinker and the thought, the experiencer and the experience. For us that is so, we accept it as a matter of fact. But is it so? Is there a thinker, an observer, a watcher apart from thought, apart from thinking, apart from experience? Is there a thinker, a centre, without thought? If you remove thought, is there a centre? If you have no thought at all, no struggle, no urge to acquire, no effort to become something, is there a centre? Or is the centre created by thought, which feels itself to be insecure, impermanent, in a state of flux? If you observe, you will find that it is the thought process that has created the centre, which is still within the field of thinking. And is it possible - this is the point - to watch, to be aware of this process, without the watcher? Can the mind, which is the process, be aware of itself? Please, this requires a great deal of insight, meditation and penetration, because most of us assume that there is a thinker apart from thinking. But if you go into it a little more closely, you will see that thought has created the thinker. The thinker who is directing, who is the centre, the judge, is the outcome of our thoughts. This is a fact, as you will see if you are really looking at it. Most people are conditioned to believe that the thinker is separate from thought, and they give to the thinker the quality of eternality; but that which is beyond time comes into being only when we understand the whole process of thinking. Now, can the mind be aware of itself in action, in movement, without a centre? I think it can. It is possible when there is only an awareness of thinking, and not the thinker who is thinking. You know, it is quite an experience to realize that there is only thinking. And it is very difficult to experience that, because the thinker is habitually there, evaluating, judging, condemning, comparing, identifying. If the thinker ceases to identify, evaluate, judge, then there is only thinking, without the centre. What is the centre? The centre is the `me' - the `me' that wants to be a great person, that has so many conclusions, fears, motives. From that centre we think; but that centre has been created by the reaction of thinking. So, can the mind be aware of thinking without the centre - just observe it? You will find how extraordinarily difficult it is just to look at a flower without naming it, without comparing it with other flowers, without evaluating it out of like or dislike. Experiment with this and you will see how really difficult it is to observe something without bringing in all your prejudices, all your emotions and evaluations. But however difficult, you will find that the mind can be aware of itself without the centre watching the movement of the mind. Questioner: If anyone wishes to find freedom along the lines you have spoken of, is it not also necessary for that person to renounce the church or whatever other religious organizations he is taking an interest in? Krishnamurti: If one wishes to free oneself should one give up, renounce, or set aside organizations that demand belief? Obviously. If one belongs to an organization which demands belief, which is based on fear, on dogma, then the mind is a slave to that organization and cannot be free. Only the mind that is free -and this is an extraordinarily complex and difficult problem - can find out if there is reality, if there is God, not the mind that believes in God. Now, why do we cling to the dogmas, beliefs and rituals which religions introduce? When we understand that, then they will drop away like leaves in the autumn, without any effort. Why do you belong to any particular religious organization? We must obviously have organizations to deliver letters, milk, and so on; but why does the mind cling to dogmas? Does it not cling because in dogma, in belief, it finds security, something to rely on? Being uncertain, fearful, insecure, it projects a belief or clings to a dogma that some church or other organization offers. The mind clings to dogma, to belief, as an escape from its own uncertainty, its inward poverty, insufficiency. It tries to fill that emptiness with dogmas, beliefs, superstitions, rituals. You may renounce a belief and put aside a dogma; but so long as you have not understood this inward poverty, insufficiency, so long as the mind has not understood its own emptiness, merely relinquishing organized religion has no meaning. It will have meaning only when you understand the inward nature that forces you to cling to a conclusion, a belief. That is why it is very important to have knowledge of oneself, to know why one believes, rejects, renounces. It is only through self-knowledge that there is wisdom -not in beliefs, not in books, but in understanding the whole structure of the mind. Only the free mind can understand that which is beyond time. May 21, 1956 STOCKHOLM, SWEDEN 4TH PUBLIC TALK 22TH MAY 1956 I think it is important to consider the negativeness of experience; because our whole life is a series of accumulated experiences, and a false centre forms around these accumulations. Whether experience is destructive or so-called creative, what is it that nevertheless makes the mind insensitive and brings about deterioration? Does experience liberate the mind from the deteriorating factor? Or must there be freedom from this craving for experience, from the accumulative process of experience? We take experience as a necessary factor for the enrichment of life; and I think it is, at one level. But experience nearly always forms a hardened centre in the mind, as the self, which is a deteriorating factor. Most of us are seeking experience. We may be tired of the worldly experiences of fame, notoriety, wealth, sex, and so on, but we all want greater, wider experience of some kind, especially those of us who are attempting to reach a so-called spiritual state. Being tired of worldly things, we want a more extensive, a wider, deeper experience; and to arrive at such an experience, we suppress, we control, we dominate ourselves, hoping thereby to achieve a full realization of God, or what you will. We think the pursuit of experience is the right way of life in order to attain greater vision, and I question whether that is so. Does this search for experience, which is really a demand for greater, fuller sensation, lead to reality? Or is it a factor which cripples the mind? In our search for sensation, which we call experience, we do various things, do we not? We practise so-called spiritual disciplines; we control, suppress, put ourselves through various forms of religious exercise - all in order to arrive at a greater experience. Some of us have actually done all this, while others only play with the idea. But through it all, the fundamental desire is for greater sensation - to have the sensation of pleasure extended, made high and permanent, as opposed to the suffering, the dullness, the routine and loneliness of our daily lives. So the mind is ever seeking experience, and that experience hardens into a centre; and from this centre we act. We live and have our being in this centre, in this accumulated, hardened experience of the past. And is it possible to live without forming this centre of experience and sensation? Because it seems to me that life will then have a significance quite different from that which we now give it. At present we are all concerned, are we not?, with the extension of the centre, recruiting greater and wider experience which ever strengthens the self; and I think this invariably limits the mind. So, is it possible to live in this world without forming this centre? I think it is possible only when there is a full awareness of life - an awareness in which there is no motive or choice, but simple observation. I think you will find, if you will experiment with this and think about it a little deeply, that such awareness does not form a centre around which experience and the reactions to experience can accumulate. Then the mind becomes astonishingly alive, creative - and I do not mean writing poems, or painting pictures, but a creativeness in which the self is totally absent. I think this is what most of us are really seeking - a state in which there is no conflict, a state of peace and serenity of mind. But this is not possible so long as the mind is the instrument of sensation and is ever demanding further sensation. After all, most of our memory is based on sensation, either pleasurable or painful; from the painful we try to escape, and to the pleasurable we cling; the one we suppress or seek to avoid, and the other we grope after, hold on to, and think about. So the centre of our experience is essentially based on pleasure and pain, which are sensations, and we are always pursuing experiences which we hope will be permanently satisfying. That is what we are after all the time, and hence there is everlasting conflict. Conflict is never creative; on the contrary, conflict is a most destructive factor, both within the mind itself and in our relationship with the world around us, which is society. If we can understand this really deeply - that a mind which seeks experience limits itself and is its own source of misery - then perhaps we can find out what it is to be aware. Being aware does not mean learning and accumulating lessons from life; on the contrary, to be aware is to be without the scars of accumulated experience. After all, when the mind merely gathers experience according to its own wishes, it remains very shallow, superficial. A mind which is deeply observant does not get caught up in self-centred activities; and the mind is not observant if there is any action of condemnation or comparison. Comparison and condemnation do not bring understanding, rather they block understanding. To be aware is to observe - just to observe - without any self-identifying process. Such a mind is free of that hard core which is formed by self-centred activities. I think it is very important to experience this state of awareness for oneself, and not merely to know about it through any description which another may give. Awareness comes into being naturally, easily, spontaneously, when we understand the centre which is everlastingly seeking experience, sensation. A mind which seeks sensation through experience becomes insensitive, incapable of swift movement, and therefore it is never free. But in understanding its own self-centred activities, the mind comes upon this state of awareness which is choiceless, and such a mind is then capable of complete silence, stillness. The capacity of the mind to be still, which is so essential, is not of the Occident or the Orient, though in the Orient some people may talk about it more. Without this extraordinary stillness of the mind which is not seeking further experience, all our activities, will merely add to the dead centre of accumulation. Only when the mind is completely still can it know its own movement - and then its movement is immense, incalculable, immeasurable. Then it is possible to have that feeling of something which is beyond time. Then life has quite a different significance, a significance which is not to be found through capacities, gifts, or intellectual gymnastics. Creative stillness is not the end result of a calculating, disciplined and widely-informed mind. It comes into being only when we understand the falsity of the whole process of endlessly seeking sensation through experience. Without that inward stillness, all our speculations about reality, all the philosophies, the systems of ethics, the religions, have very little significance. It is only the still mind which can know infinity. Question: Can you tell us more clearly what it is you mean by consciousness? Krishnamurti: What is consciousness? Is it not everything that we think and everything that we have thought in the past? Is it not the past which we project through the present into the future? Are not both the conscious and the unconscious mind within the field of time? Consciousness is made up, is it not?, of the responses of the past propelled into the present through memory, as the `I', as the mind, which then seeks further forms of fulfillment in the future. The whole of that is consciousness, is it not? It is the result of inherited ideas, of accumulated experiences, of fears, inspirations, motives, beliefs, hopes, and innumerable other influences. All that is what we are. We may divide ourselves into the `I' and the `not-I', into the `lower self' and the `higher self', but this whole field of consciousness, you will find, is made up of reactions, of the past, of conditioned thinking, and is therefore obviously limited. After all, it is only because we are forever thinking about something, pursuing something, or running away from something, that we know we are alive. We search for reality, for permanence, and because we want it, we say we know of it. But our search is merely the outcome of desire, is it not? It is conditioned, limited, a product of time. All this is part of consciousness. So the question is, can the mind, being conditioned, limited, free itself from the past, from its own centre of experience which is based on like and dislike? You cannot answer `yes' or `no'. You can only find out for yourself whether the mind can be free. But to find out, you must first know that you are conditioned; you must first be aware of the compulsions, the fears, the beliefs and traditions which now corrupt the mind. This means, does it not?, that one must watch oneself in relationship - not merely with people, but also in one's relationship with things and with ideas. Then you will understand, if you really observe it, the whole process of conditioning, and can perhaps be free of it forever. Question: Is it possible for the ordinary person to come to this freedom without special training and knowledge? Krishnamurti: What does special training imply? It implies, does it not?, continually conditioning the mind to a certain practice, to a certain discipline, to various forms of conformity and compulsion. When you say that special training is necessary to achieve this freedom, what is implied is the practice of a method; and can any method bring about freedom? Or is the practice of a method the very denial of freedom? Surely, when you practise a method you become a slave to that method, to a technique, and therefore there is no freedom. The practice produces a result, but the result is not freedom. We think that by careful training of the mind, by certain practices, by observing certain rules, we will come to freedom; but the only result is to make ourselves prisoners of the method. Freedom is in the beginning, not at the end. We think that inner freedom is to be achieved only at the end, because from the very beginning we have denied ourselves freedom. We do not see that only from the very beginning can freedom be realized. Anyone with enough intelligence, diligence, and patience, can be free. Freedom comes to all of us if we give our time to it, if we dedicate ourselves to seeking out and understanding our own conditioning. But if one relies on a method, on training, one becomes a follower, one needs a teacher, and therefore one becomes a slave to that teacher. By becoming a follower one has denied the whole experience of freedom. Question: One finds that one makes the same mistakes repeatedly. Are there those who have been able to break this pattern? Krishnamurti: I wonder why we ask if there is anybody else who has broken the pattern of habit. Why? Is it because, if others have broken the pattern, it may help and encourage us? Or are we asking a vain question which has no meaning at all? Surely what has importance is not whether X or Y has broken the pattern, but whether we can break it, you and I. And that means, first of all, being aware of the pattern, of the prison in which the mind is held, knowing it for oneself - the racial prejudices, the educational ignorance, the religious limitations, the hopes, the fears, and all the rest of it. Then we will find out for ourselves whether we can break the pattern or not; we will not have to look to anybody else. Then we will know what it is to be free, to live, to be creative. Question: Would you kindly explain what you mean by negative thinking? Krishnamurti: Before we inquire into the problem of positive and negative thinking, let us ask ourselves, what is thinking? When I put you a question with which you are familiar, the response is immediate, you do not have to think. For example, if I ask you where you live, you reply without having to think about it. But if a more complicated question is asked, there is hesitation, which indicates that you are looking for an answer; the mind is then seeking an answer in the cupboard of memory. That is what we call thinking. I do not know, but I am trying to find an answer in all the memories, the knowledge that I have accumulated; and finding it, I verbally respond. This response, which is a reaction of memory, is what we call positive thinking, is it not? We are always thinking from our background of knowledge and experience, so our thinking is very limited; and such thinking can never be free. in that process there is no freedom of thought, in the fundamental sense of the word. You may change your opinions, your conclusions; but so long as you draw upon knowledge, which is what we are accustomed to doing, you are not really thinking at all. In that there is no freedom of thought, because memory and knowledge have already conditioned your thinking. Negative thinking may be, and probably is, freedom from knowledge as conclusions. After all, everything we know is of the past. The moment we say "I know", knowledge has already moved away from the present and established itself in memory, in the past. So, can the mind be in a state of not-knowing? Because only then can the mind inquire, not when it says "I know". Only the mind which is capable of being in a state of not-knowing - not merely as a verbal assertion, but as an actual fact - is free to discover reality. But to be in that state is difficult, for we are ashamed of not knowing. Knowledge gives us strength, importance, a centre around which the ego can be active. The mind which is not calling upon knowledge, which is not living in memory, which is totally emptying itself of the past, dying to every form of accumulation from moment to moment - it is only such a mind that can be in a state of not-knowing, which is the highest form of thinking; and then thinking has a different meaning altogether. It may not be thinking at all, as we know it, but a state of being which is not merely the opposite of not-being. Question: Would you please give us some practical way of getting free from our conditioned minds? You say that any particular training such as yoga or other spiritual exercises, only makes us slaves; but I still think we have to use some kind of method. You say that to have this freedom we must devote our lives to it, but how are we to do this without a method or a system? Krishnamurti: This is rather a complex question, and I hope you will listen with attention to what is being said. By attention I do not mean waiting in your mind for the answer you wish to receive -which is, is it not?, the assurance that some kind of help, some kind of discipline or practice is necessary if we would be free. We are used to the idea of getting results through practice, and moving from results to further results. But there is a limit to what can be known by the mind through practice, through discipline; and we are now trying to find out, are we not?, what is truth, what is reality, what is God. To do that, the mind must first be made limitless, capable of receiving the unknown. The mind cannot go to truth, it cannot invite truth into its enclosure. Truth is immeasurable, it is too immense to be captured by any amount of practising on the part of the limited mind. And is it not true that your motive in asking this question is to gain something, to attain or capture truth? But truth must come to you, the mind cannot go to meet it. You think that if you practise overcoming your passions it is going to lead you to reality, and so for you the method is very important; but such a mind, which is always hoping, inviting, expecting, can never under any circumstances reach that which is beyond the mind. There is no path, no yoga, no discipline which will lead you to it. All that the mind can do is to know itself. It must know its own limitations -the motives, the feelings, the passions, the cruelties, the lack of love, and be aware of all its many activities. One must see all that and remain silent, not asking, not begging, not putting out a hand to receive something. If you stretch out your hand, you will remain empty-handed forever. But to know yourself, the unconscious as well as the conscious, is the beginning of wisdom; and knowing yourself in that sense brings freedom - which is not freedom for you to experience reality. The man who is free is not free for something, or from something; he is just free; and then if that state of reality wishes to come, it will come. But for you to go seeking it is like a blind man seeking light; you will never find it. The man who understands himself seeks nothing; his mind is limitless, undesirous, and for such a mind the immeasurable can come into being. May 22, 1956 STOCKHOLM, SWEDEN 5TH PUBLIC TALK 24TH MAY 1956 It might be profitable this evening if we could spend the time really discussing. By this I do not mean that you should merely ask questions and wait for my answer, but let us exchange ideas and think things out together. Perhaps it will be worthwhile, in a smaller group like this one, to try to go more deeply into what we have been talking about during the last four meetings. We have been talking about how important it is that individual creativity should somehow come out of the chaos and confusion which exists in us and in the world today. And we have seen how essential it is, in this connection, to understand the background in which the mind is caught - the background which conditions us and limits our thinking. For it seems to me that, however much capacity we may have, the mind is nevertheless caught in the background, in the traditions, the experiences which it has stored up. It is fairly obvious that all experience tends to condition the mind; and I think it would be worth while to find out if it is possible for the mind not to be conditioned, not to build up a centre out of experience from which every judgment, every act then takes place; because that centre is inevitably self-enclosing, limited and narrow. If one thinks about it deeply, that is fairly clear. Several questions have been asked as to why experience is a limitation, and I thought we might try to go into this matter rather thoroughly this evening. So, instead of my just talking about it, or our discussing merely as a verbal exchange, let us see if we can feel out this problem together. Most of us think that experience is necessary, for our lives are full of experiences, both pleasant and unpleasant. One's memory is crowded with the residue of experience, and according to this accumulated experience we judge or evaluate life. Such evaluation, judgment, is invariably limited. The mind is bound by centuries of slavery to experience; and the question is, can it free itself? Can it be in that state of awareness which is entirely different from the state of accumulation? Can it be free of all accumulations, so that it never deteriorates but is fresh and, in that sense, innocent? For I think only such a mind can discover - not a mind that is loaded with experience. So, can we go into this matter? Is it possible for us to find out together whether the mind can break through all this accumulation, which we call knowledge, experience? Can the mind also be free of the urge for further experience, which is really the pursuit of sensation, and thereby make itself new, fresh? Surely it is only the fresh, uncontaminated mind that is free to observe and discover for itself if there is something beyond its own creations. In discussing all this, please do not treat me as an authority. You are not asking, and I am not telling you, which would be absurd, because that kind of exchange can only lead to authority and the crippling of the mind. What we are trying to do is to go seriously into this whole matter, without verbally blocking each other, or asking irrelevant questions, but really sticking to the point. Can we do that this evening? Audience: Yes. Questioner: To observe is to be free already, and to understand is also to be free - if I have understood you rightly. So it seems to be a real problem to know how to begin. Krishnamurti: Let us bear in mind that you are not just asking questions for me to reply to. We are putting our minds together to try to find out whether experience helps man to be free from the limitations he has imposed upon himself. And it has been suggested that to understand is to be free, to observe is the beginning of freedom. Now, what is our problem? What is actually happening with each one of us? Please examine your own mind and see what is happening to you. We have had very many experiences, both pleasant and unpleasant. To some we cling, while others we reject, but they are all held in our consciousness; we cannot build a wall and shut out any of them. They are there, whether we like it or not. And do these experiences help man, or hinder him? Will they bring freedom, or do they prevent freedom from taking place? This is really an important question; because psychologists say that every experience is retained by the mind. The death of a son leaves a mark; the hurts, the insults to our vanity - it is all held there in the mind. And what we are actually discussing is, can the mind free itself? If it can, then what is it that sets going this movement of freedom? Can you and I discover it for ourselves? Is it possible for the mind to break through its limitations and find true freedom? And is this to be done through observation? Is it to be done through some analytical process, or through confession, introspection, and so on? Questioner: Experience which is in the deepest conformity with our innermost wishes will, I think, help us to free our minds. I personally have found that fasting and the vegetarian way of living is helping me to free my mind. When the stomach is empty the mind is set free. Should one give up such experience? Krishnamurti: What do we mean when we say that vegetarianism, or certain other practices, will help us to be free? And what do we mean by `being free'? We say that some things free us, and some things bind us. When there is suffering, pain, we want to be free of it; but we do not want to be free of pleasure, do we? Our minds are only concerned with directing our activities in accordance with the pattern of satisfaction which the `I' has established. We are not talking merely about vegetarianism, or yoga, and whether those practices bring freedom; we are inquiring to find out whether it is possible to be free from all experience. For example, the mind which is conditioned by Christianity, Hinduism, or what you will, may have visions, and the visions will be according to its particular background. All experience is both conditioned and conditioning, is it not? And we are discussing whether or not experience is helping us to be fundamentally free. Questioner: Such things are not helpful. Krishnamurti: Please do not agree with me. I do not mean this sarcastically or ironically, but the problem is much too fundamental for us merely to agree or disagree. We must go into it. Questioner: I think that, living in this world of time and space, it is impossible to escape from experience. If we fight against our experiences, or cling to them, then they leave a hardened residue in the mind. But I think it is possible to go through experiences and still keep oneself absolutely free. I have done something like this myself. If one does not fix one's position in an experience, but just allows it to pass over one like a wave, then something happens -one will be changed and one will be free. Krishnamurti: But you see, sir, when we say "If I do this, then something else will happen", all discussion stops. Surely, suppositional thinking is not thinking at all. What we are trying to go into is this: when there is some accident in life, a death or a hurt, it leaves a mark on the mind; and is it possible not to have that mark from an experience? Experience is going on all the time. Our whole life is a series of experiences, conscious or unconscious. The mind is like a sieve; some things we let go through it, and some are held. If you will observe your own mind you will see this as an obvious fact. So the experiences of yesterday condition the experiences of today - which is again a fact, surely. And can the mind be free of experience, so that experience does not leave a mark upon it which gives a bias to the oncoming experiences? Questioner: But you can never get away from it. Krishnamurti: If we say that, then all discussion ceases. Can we remove the `never' and go into the problem more deeply? After all, a mind which has conclusions and thinks only from those conclusions, is thinking no longer; it has stopped thinking. Questioner: It seems fairly clear that when we are caught in a certain experience, the mind is not free. But when we live, as it were, in the dance of experience, then experience brings us to a point where we look at things differently and the mind has a chance to be free. Krishnamurti: We all have conclusions, have we not? Audience: No. Krishnamurti: You mean to say you have no conclusions? - that there is life after death, that you are Swedish, that your friends are like this or like that, that experience has led you to a certain point, that there is a God, or no God, and so on? We are a mass of conclusions, are we not? And from this background we judge, we look at and evaluate life. Your conclusions are based on your experiences, and on the conventions of society which the collective has impressed upon you; and you are thinking from these conclusions. Now, someone comes along and points out that when you are thinking from conclusions, from past experiences, you are not thinking at all. And is it possible for the mind not to think from conclusions, and yet to act, to live, to function, to think? Because only such a mind is capable of looking, observing very keenly. Questioner: I can follow you to the extent of seeing that it is a hindrance to accumulate knowledge for the sake of knowledge, and I also see the futility of disciplines, methods, and of striving for more and more sensation. But I cannot understand why you say we must not collect any experiences. You yourself must have had many experiences, for you have travelled and given lectures for over thirty years. You say we should free ourselves from religions, dogmas, and conventional biases. To do that we must know the structure of society, and we cannot get to know that structure without a great deal of penetrating personal experience, such as you certainly have had. Krishnamurti: I do not think we are quite understanding what the problem is. The gentleman says that I have had lots of experience, and implies that it must have left a great deal of knowledge and many impressions; the cupboard must be full of riches. I do not think so. What we are talking about is this: all of us have a centre, either a solid kernel or a fluidic one, but still a centre - a centre of hurts, fears, of wanting something, of pettiness, frustration, lack of love, and so on. This centre is the result of our experiences, and it is always accumulating through further experiences. It is alive with memories, with various hopes and fears, and the mind is acting from this centre. And we are trying to find out whether the mind can ever be free from this centre, which is a vast bundle of experiences. My son is dead. That leaves a tremendous wound, does it not? War is a terrible experience, and it leaves a scar, a mark on the mind. These marks direct all our thinking, do they not? They determine our attitude, our way of thinking and living, and they shape our future experiences. If I believe in Christ, in Buddha, or in some other person, that belief is an experience which will govern other experiences. So, do we know, all of us, that we have such a centre? And is it possible to break it down, or does it have to go on? - which may be the process of life; we are going to find out. Is it inevitable that the process of life should form a centre, which then governs and directs further experience? Or is there something else, something entirely different, which will break down this centre of accumulation? That is, acting from your centre, you are ambitious - you want to be a great architect, a painter, a poet. There is always something we want to be, either positively or negatively; and this centre invites future experience according to its conditioning. Am I making it clear? Audience: Yes. Questioner: But without a centre which accumulates memories, I would be lost; I would not even know where I lived. Surely it is right to remember, and store up memories, otherwise how can I live? Krishnamurti: That is the whole problem, is it not? If I forget where I live, there is something wrong with me mentally. At one level there must obviously be the retention of certain experiences, but they will be only those experiences which do not condition my thinking and feeling. Whereas, if I have been brought up as a Hindu, or a Catholic, that background is surely going to condition my whole outlook. Living in a particular society and conforming to its sanctions, I am conditioned in that particular way, and I look at everything from a certain fixed point of view. So, we are talking about the possibility of removing its conditioning from the mind - the conditioning which causes conflict, which perverts the mind and makes it really insane. When I call myself a Hindu, a Communist, a Catholic, or what you will, it is not sanity; that is insanity, because it divides human beings and sets man against man. Naturally it would be absurd to forget where I live; or if I am, say, a physicist, to forget what I know. We are not talking about that. But a physicist who calls himself an American, a Russian, or a Swede, and uses his knowledge from that centre, perverts life, does he not? That is the kind of thing we are talking about. So let us proceed to investigate whether you and I have in fact got these accumulated experiences, these conclusions which are perverting thought. We obviously have got them, so the question is how to deal with them. How is the mind, which has certain dominant beliefs, to be free of them? I do not know if you have ever thought about this problem, but it is surely important. The mind has a background of belief, of conclusion, of experience, both pleasurable and painful, and this background is so strong, so corroding. How is the mind to be free of it? Or is this not a problem to you? Questioner: I do not think we can do anything except let it pass away. Krishnamurti: No, sir, we cannot do that. Questioner: But we do not have to dwell on it. Krishnamurti: But we do! I do not think we are meeting the problem. You have had certain experiences, and you have certain beliefs, conclusions, have you not? These conclusions, beliefs and experiences direct your life, and according to them you have further experiences. You may have visions of Christ, or visions of a future Utopia, of this or of that. And we are trying to find out whether the mind is not very harmful, very destructive, when its thoughts spring from conclusions, beliefs. If I believe in nationalism - which is one of the causes of war - , if I feel myself to be an Englishman, an Indian, a Russian, and so on, from that crystallized thinking I will inevitably create war. So, can the mind be free from conclusions? - that is my problem. Is it not yours also? I am sure it is. I am not pushing you into a corner, but you will have to face it. As long as you have any conclusions, you are one of the causes of war. If you realize this, then how are you to be free from conclusions? Questioner: If we can reason freely, we may be able to find a way of freeing our minds from the conclusions which lead us in the wrong direction. The fact that we have flags shows that we are on the wrong path; we think as Swedes instead of as human beings. Perhaps it will free us if we can ask: will this deed, which is the result of my thinking, benefit those among whom I live, or will it not? Krishnamurti: I am afraid the problem is not quite so simple. If I merely say "I am going to live by what I think is good", where does it lead? A dictator, a tyrant, thinks he is doing good; so do the exploiter and the imperialist. `Doing good' cannot be the criterion by which the mind can free itself. If it were as simple as that, it would be very easy. I have to know myself first, do I not? I have to know all my hidden motives, my desires, my tendencies, the totality of myself. Whether I am doing good or doing harm depends, surely, on whether I know and understand myself. And how am I to know myself? Can I know myself on the basis of a conclusion - the conclusion that there is in me a divine spark, or that I am only the result of environmental influences, or any other conclusion? To know myself, surely, I must have no preconceptions, no assumptions. I must see those hopes and fears which are dictating my thoughts about myself; I must know the conclusions, the fixed points to which the mind clings - and the very knowing of them may be the action of breaking them down. The moment I know I am talking as a Hindu, and understand the significance of it, the thought that I am a Hindu has lost its influence; but if I profit by it, if I find security in it, then I will cling to it. We have to know the total content of our being, and we cannot know it if we start from any fixed point. If we have a fixed point built up through fear, through hope, through dogma, then, when we try to look at ourselves, that fixed point is always colouring, distorting what we see. Questioner: All that I can do with a conclusion is to become aware of it, to question it; and when I do that, I find that I do not know. Krishnamurti: We are touching now upon a very complex problem, and it has taken one and a half hours to come to this point. The problem is whether we can find out how our thinking is actually conditioned, and whether to go beyond that conditioning will take time. To know for oneself very clearly in what way one is conditioned, to what beliefs the mind is clinging, and of what one is afraid - to know all this, and then discover how to go much deeper, needs patient inquiry; and perhaps we can go further into it tomorrow. The brain will not take more than a certain amount. May 24, 1956 STOCKHOLM, SWEDEN 6TH PUBLIC TALK 25TH MAY 1956 I think we should continue with what we were talking about yesterday. I do not know whether it is a problem for each one of us, this question of experience. Life is a continuous series of experiences, it is an endless process of challenge and response; and there is always a conflict when our response is inadequate to the challenge. Invariably this conflict, this inadequacy of response, is the result of the background, of tradition, of the previous experiences we have had. Following tradition inevitably leads to mediocrity, and most of our minds, it seems to me, fall into habits, into reactions based on tradition. We dwell in our past experiences, and we use the present as a means to the future. Few of us live to break out of this circle of unrealities and ghosts; and our future is merely the result of projections from the past. I feel that if we can approach this inquiry with a mind that is not conditioned, that is not held, bound by the past, then there is a possibility of understanding, of seeing and feeling something which is not merely the outcome of the conditioned centre. But most of us live and work from that centre, which is the residue of all human experience, both individual and collective, and therefore all new experience is bound to condition our thinking further. The mind never goes beyond its own conditioning, and that is why it is never free. So the question is, can the mind be free from its own self-centred activity? Is it possible for the mind not to be self-centred? And what is such a state of mind? After all, we can see that we are the result of our education, of our particular society, of the religion in which we have been brought up, and of the many other influences bearing upon us. Whether we are atheists or believers, we repeat what we have learnt, what we have been taught, what we have accepted. A man who believes does not necessarily know more of the reality of God than a non-believer, because both are conditioned - which is fairly obvious. So the question is: can the mind free itself from all these influences, from all this accumulated experience? That is what we are trying to find out. There are those who maintain that such a thing is impossible, and who think that all we need do is to find a better form of conditioning; so they turn from worshipping the dictates of a church to worshipping the dictates of a state, a party, or a government. But if we would seriously inquire into whether it is possible to free the mind from all conditioning, how are we to set about it? Can we discuss and go further into this problem? Questioner: I think one must begin by discovering a means. Krishnamurti: Can we not dispose of all the means which the mind invents in order to free itself? One means is the will - using the action of will to break down our conditioning. Another means is analysis. You go to an analyst, or analyse yourself; you try to interpret your dreams, you carefully investigate each layer of memory, you examine every reaction, and so on. That is not the way, surely. And when we try to break down our conditioning through the action of will, what happens? One desire becomes dominant and resists the various other desires - which means that there is always the whole problem of suppression, resistance, and so-called sublimation. Does any of this free the mind from conditioning? I wonder if we fully understand the implication of using the will to get rid of something, or to become something. What is will? Surely will is, in itself, a way of conditioning the mind, is it not? In the action of will, one dominant desire is imposing itself upon other desires, one wish is over-riding other motives and urges. This process obviously creates inward opposition, and hence there is ever conflict. So will cannot help us to free the mind. Probably you have not thought about all this before, and are therefore finding it rather difficult. But let us take a simple example and go into it, and we shall see. Supposing I am violent, or envious, how is the mind to be free of that - totally free, not just in little bits? Will the exercise of will free the mind from anything? If I am envious and, feeling that envy is wrong, I resist it, push it away, does that get rid of it? It does not, does it? And if the will does not help me, then how is the mind to be totally free from envy, or anything else? It is really a very interesting problem. We are all consumed with something, whether it be envy, fear, ambition, or what you will; and can the mind be totally free of these things, or must we go on chopping at them little by little until we die, and still not be free at the end of it all? If we see that will does not free the mind from envy, then what is the next thing to try? Will analysing oneself, introspection, get rid of envy? In analysis there is always the possibility of misinterpretation, and the question of whether the analyser himself is free. We saw yesterday that each one of us is a bundle of experiences, of reactions; and we asked ourselves, how is one to be free from this complex centre? I am now trying to take one thing out of that bundle and look at it. It is an experience which we all have: envy. By what process can this experience be totally rooted out, eradicated? Is this a problem to everyone? Audience: Yes. Krishnamurti: Then how would you tackle it? Questioner: One can learn to accept oneself. Krishnamurti: But one is still envious! Questioner: Truth will make us free. Krishnamurti: That is perfectly true. But to see what is true, and not merely repeat phrases, the mind must be very alert, vivid, sensitive - it must be in a state to see the truth. Questioner: We must be able to conquer envy by some sort of feeling of brotherhood. Krishnamurti: The problem is much more complicated than that. Conquering does not solve it. It is like putting a bandage over a wound. The wound is still there. Questioner: If we understand our envy we see how it inhibits us. Krishnamurti: But do we? Most of us know the experience of envy, and we have created a society in which envy is very dominant, have we not? Our education, our religious ambitions, our whole lives are based on it: "You know, I do not; I must also know". This process breeds a competitive, ruthless society. Envy is an extraordinarily strong feeling, and having it, we function from that centre. If there were no envy at all, what would be the state of the mind? And would it not then be possible to create quite a different society, quite a different kind of education? As individual human beings, is it not important that we should understand this problem and find out for ourselves if it is possible for the mind to be free of envy in its entirety? Questioner: If we stop wishing, stop desiring... Krishnamurti: How is one to stop desire? By will? By tearing it to pieces? By discipline? By resisting, suppressing it? If you do any of these things, there is a conflict. Questioner: By studying it in all its forms. Krishnamurti: You can intellectually study all the various forms of envy and still suffer from it. Questioner: We must try to look at envy very calmly when it comes into our minds, and not hope too much to get rid of it. Krishnamurti: If I am envious, how am I to look at it? Questioner: Very calmly, I said. Questioner: Is this not the main difficulty, that we never really meet envy? We are envious, but we do not see our envy, actually. Questioner: We can help our children to be free of it. Krishnamurti: To help the children, the educator himself must first be free. That seems fairly clear. But as the other gentleman said, do we really know what envy is? Do we know envy as a living thing, or merely as a word, a verbal statement? Do we know it as an intimate fact? Questioner: I am afraid most of us know it only as a word and not as a fact. Krishnamurti: Of what significance is the word unrelated to the feeling? Questioner: How would it be if one studied one's needs and tried to reduce them? Krishnamurti: I may become a monk, but I am still envious of another hermit who is holier or cleverer than I am. Questioner: I think we must accept envy and give it its right place in our lives. If we can see, without condemning it, that envy does not lead anywhere, we shall get rid of it. Questioner: Perhaps envy is based on fear. If we could believe in ourselves as individuals, then we would not have to be envious. Krishnamurti: To say one must accept envy, or that envy is based on fear, does not help us. The cause of envy we know, but I am talking of the totality of it, the cause and the effect. After all, I know why I am envious; I am not as beautiful or as clever as you are; I compare myself with you, and I am envious. But is it possible to be free from that whole complex process? Questioner: If I dwell in the self, it is not possible. But by meditating every day I can find out that the self has no value, and be free from envy. Questioner: If we could live in the now, we should not be attracted by what happened yesterday or what will happen tomorrow. Questioner: We must know that we are envious, and live with it, feel it in every cell; and then this envy will absorb itself and something will suddenly happen. Krishnamurti: Surely we are all merely advising each other what to do, which is rather unfortunate, because we shall never find out that way. If you are telling me how to live, what to do, I shall never discover anything, shall I? Questioner: Who are we that we should think we can get rid of envy? After all, life has made us envious. We can try to be a little less envious; but even if we do not achieve that aim, life will still go on for many more years. Krishnamurti: Those for whom envy is not a real problem can chop away at it slowly; but that will never resolve our struggle and sorrow. I am afraid we are not really meeting each other. The problem needs a lot of penetration, and we are just putting out words and ideas. One knows one is envious, and that one's life is based on envy to a very large extent. From childhood we are brought up in envy, encouraged in it, consciously or unconsciously. On the surface I may be able to brush it aside; but deep inside, envy is still biting and burning. How is that fire to be completely quenched? You are just telling me what to do, you are not following the problem in yourselves. Can we not think it out together? Questioner: When you speak of the mind being free, what do you mean by `mind'? Krishnamurti: I thought we made this whole problem clear yesterday. We have discussed for more than an hour, and unfortunately we have not really touched the subject at all. We can define our terms and so perhaps make verbal communication better, but this problem is not a matter of mere verbal communication or the further definition of terms. Also we have been talking of what to do and what not to do, and that may not be the question at all. It may be that we have to look at the problem in an entirely different manner. To find out, we must think out the problem together. Questioner: If I know I am envious and I look at it without any condemnation, would that not be a way to be free of it? Questioner: We tried to find out yesterday how to be free of experience and of conclusions. Can we leave envy for a moment and go into the question of what it is to be free? If there is a centre, what is it? Is it a spark of God? And is not God free? What does it mean to be free? Krishnamurti: Has it never happened to you that you have been very angry and wanted to be free from it? Have you never asked yourself whether you can be free from envy, from this everlasting drive after something? When this happens to you, what is your response? You try discipline, suppression, and various other ways to get rid of that feeling, but still it obsesses you wherever you go. So what are you to do? How are you to look at it? What kind of action or non-action must take place? So long as you are fighting it, one part of the mind resisting another part, envy will continue, will it not? Audience: Yes. Krishnamurti: It is not a question of agreeing; you have to see it for yourself. So long as there is conflict, one part of the mind dominating another part, there can be no freedom. Do you see that fact? Audience: Yes. Krishnamurti: I wonder if you do. You like this, do you not?, because I am doing all the talking and you are just listening. The problem is this: I am envious, and I see that mere resistance, suppression, bringing the will into action, only creates conflict. So my problem is conflict, not envy. My problem is not envy at all, but the fact that I am always striving in order to arrive somewhere. This striving is the very process of envy. What am I striving after? I am discontented, and I am striving to reach contentment. I think that if I can go to some place, or reach some end, I shall be content. So I strive. I am unhappy, I am envious, always wanting more, more, more. My whole outlook on life is based on accumulation, because in myself I am discontented, unhappy, lonely, empty. Being empty, I want somehow to enrich myself. I try various activities - painting, writing, worshipping, and many other avenues of self-expression - , hoping to cover up this sense of emptiness. Is this not a fact? Audience: Yes. Krishnamurti: But can this emptiness ever be filled? Can I enlarge myself inwardly? Please listen. When I try to be like jesus, like Buddha, or like anybody else, it is because in myself I am nothing, and I am envious. So my problem is, can I fill this emptiness? Surely, the moment I try to fill my emptiness, there is again the whole problem of struggle, of how to make myself richer. Then I look around to see who is richer, more beautiful, more talented than I am, and immediately I am caught in the field of comparison and struggle. What then? I know there is an inner insufficiency; and can I look at it without any sense of wanting to enrich myself, without any desire to run away from it? Because the moment I try to escape from it, I enter into all sorts of false pursuits and stupidities through envy and comparison. So now we are no longer concerned with the question of envy; we are considering the question of emptiness. How do I know that I am empty? Is it a mere verbal recognition, or is it an actual experience? Is the mind really aware of its emptiness? When I am not escaping from it, when I am no longer trying to enrich myself, when the mind is no longer caught in the mere verbal statement that it is empty, then there is only emptiness, the sense of insufficiency, of being inwardly poor. To recognize that fact, to be fully aware of it, is what is important, not the question of what to do about it. When I ask what to do about it, I am again in the field of envy. But when one is aware of the simple fact that the totality of one's being is empty, and that one is constantly trying to find various ways of running away, all of which involve envy, then one no longer seeks to escape from this emptiness. So, can the mind be aware of the fact of its emptiness without trying to alter it? I think that is the real issue. If the mind is only concerned with the fact that it is empty, then it no longer cares who is more beautiful, or more intelligent. But we seem incapable of looking at that fact as it is. We are always translating it, we have opinions about it. We condemn it, we seek to escape from it, we are constantly trying to operate in some way on the fact; and so the fact is prevented from operating of itself. When the fact operates, it is the truth that operates. But we are so afraid of this emptiness that we try to do something about it all the time, and thereby create a hindrance between ourselves and the fact. If the mind can be completely still in front of the fact of emptiness, loneliness, violence, envy, if it does not translate that fact or wish it were different, then the fact operates. But so long as we operate upon the fact, we cannot be free. The man who is conscious that he is free, is not free, any more than the man who is conscious that he is humble, is humble. But to be silently aware of the fact without condemnation, without wanting a result, reveals the truth, which is freedom. May 25, 1956 BRUSSELS, BELGIUM 1ST PUBLIC TALK 16TH JUNE 1956 It seems to me that it would be wise if we could put away from our minds the various forms of prejudice that we have built up, especially the idea which many of us have that wisdom lies with those people who come from the Orient. That is really quite an absurd idea, because human beings all the world over have essentially the same problems, whether they happen to live in the Orient or in the Occident. The Orient, from where I happen to come, is no different fundamentally from the Occident. The people over there have problems similar to ours - the same economic and social struggles, and the same problems of the spirit, of the mind, of the heart. We are all alike in our suffering, in our search, in our loneliness, and in the things which give the mind the power to create its own delusions. It is surely important from the very beginning for you to understand not only what is being said, but your own reaction to it, and to know why you have come here. After all, most of us come to these talks with the hope of finding something, do we not? We are all groping, seeking a better attitude or way of life, a more realistic evaluation of the things that matter. We are seeking something which we feel is very essential. So I think it would be good if we could go into this problem, to the very heart of it, and find out what it is that each one of us is earnestly seeking. We spend our days and our years in struggling to find out what life is all about. And it seems to me that our problem is not to find some satisfactory explanation of what life is about, but rather to understand life directly for ourselves. Our problems, which are many, cannot be translated either in terms of the Occident or the Orient. Many of us think that if we can follow a particular system of philosophy, or some method, the more mystical the better, it will lead us to a higher form of happiness, or to a greater depth of understanding. So we read, we search, we go to lectures, we follow teachers, we join religious organizations with their creeds and dogmas - but unfortunately we never find what we are looking for, because we do not know exactly what it is we want. Within ourselves we want so many things, we are confused. Therefore it is obviously very important to spend some time, energy and thought in inquiring into what it is that each one of us is seeking. First of all, is it possible to find out what it is we are seeking? Our minds are so conditioned by the collective; we are either Christians, Hindus, Buddhists, or we are trying to follow some other system. Our minds are so shaped, so controlled, so conditioned by the particular society in which we live -economically, socially and religiously - that we only seek whatever is promised by that particular tradition or system of thought. So we are always conditioned in our search. And I think it is very important to understand this conditioning. Because so long as our minds are conditioned as Christians, as Buddhists, as Hindus, or what you will, our search is of no avail. So long as the mind is limited, shaped by a particular belief or dogma, our search can only lead to whatever that dogma or belief promises. Only the mind which liberates itself from dogma, from belief, will find out what is true. Whether one comes from the East or from the West, it is extraordinarily difficult to liberate oneself, culturally as well as religiously, from the various encrustations which society has imposed, so that the mind is free to inquire. Without this freedom, surely, no inquiry is possible, especially in matters appertaining to the spirit, to the mind. And I think it is most essential, not merely to grope vaguely after some kind of happiness, some kind of comfort or security, which almost any form of authority can give, but rather to inquire, with a free mind, to find out if there is reality, if there is God. Only such a mind can discover, and not the mind that believes, that is held in a dogma, however venerable and apparently worthwhile. A mind caught in belief is incapable of finding out if there is reality, if there is something beyond its own projections. But it is not easy for the mind to free itself from the ideas in which it has been brought up, especially with regard to psychological issues, because it is ever eager to be comforted, to feel secure; so it creates or accepts some form of authority which promises the comfort it wants, an illusory reality without substance. So, if our inquiry is to be at all worthwhile, I think that, with attention, with purposefulness, we must go deeply into what it is that each one of us is seeking. Most religious people assert they are seeking God, truth, peace, or what you will. But those are just words, without much substance. The believer is as the nonbeliever, for both are conditioned by the particular society in which they have grown up. And one can put aside all the beliefs, the dogmas, the prejudices one has acquired, only when there is deep discontent. Surely truth, or reality, is not for the man who is seeking comfort, but rather for those who have a deep inward discontent which is not easily canalized or assuaged through any particular satisfaction or gratification, but which is steadily intensified, so that the mind rejects reasonably the comforting illusions which churches, so-called religious organizations, and one's own crippling desires have projected. Only a mind sharpened by thought, by reason, by doubt, is capable of inquiry. Such a mind is aware of its own workings, of its own background, of the values it has created, of the beliefs, the illusions, the hopes to which it clings; and it is only when all these things are set aside that the mind can find out whether or not there is a reality, something beyond its own projections. Most of us live very shallow lives; we are lonely people; and we try to enrich our poverty-stricken minds with a great deal of knowledge, information, facts. But the mind is not capable of deep inquiry if it is filled with knowledge, or if it is bound to any form of dogmatic belief. What matters is to ask ourselves whether the mind is capable of self-knowledge. That is, can I know myself, am I able to observe, to inquire into the whole movement of my mind -not with morbidity, not with despair, not with the idea that it is ugly or beautiful, but just to watch it? It seems to me that this capacity to be alertly watchful of one's own mind is of the greatest importance, because it is only through self-knowledge that one can understand those things which are crippling the mind. To know oneself is an extraordinary process, because the self is never the same from moment to moment; there are so many contradictory desires, so many compulsions, so many urges. And unless we understand the totality of it all, how can the mind be free? Only the mind that is free can really experience something beyond its own limitations, beyond its conditioning beliefs and dogmas. It seems to me that these talks will be worth while only if we can really listen to what is being said. Most of us never listen to another; and when we do hear what someone says, we are always interpreting it. Such interpretation is not listening. Whereas, if we can listen, not with enforced concentration, but freely giving attention to what is being said, then the deep significance of the words will penetrate the mind; and I think such listening is far more vital than merely struggling to understand through the screen of our prejudices and preconceptions. That is, if you can listen to what is being said, without resisting, without intellectually projecting reasonable arguments, without opposing or accepting, then I think the very act of listening is a purgation of the mind. It is like a seed that is planted in the earth; if the seed has vitality, it will grow of itself. But unfortunately most of us are so concerned with our own ideas, with our own beliefs and prejudices, that there is no attention. Attention is the total good; but we do not know how to attend. We never really look at anything either. I do not know if you have ever experimented with really looking at something - by which I mean looking without naming, without giving it a label, without interpreting it. Then you see much more, you see with greater intensity the clarity of the colour, the beauty or ugliness of the shape, and so on. And if you are capable of listening with that kind of attention, then your mind will be the soil in which something totally new can be born. Then you will find, at the end of these talks, that I have really told you nothing at all. Because what is it that we are trying to do in these talks? You are not trying to understand me; you are trying to understand yourself. And to understand yourself, you have to look within yourself. But a mind that is authority-ridden never looks within itself; a mind that is desirous of achieving an end, a goal, cannot possibly understand itself. So it seems to me that what is of prime importance is to understand oneself. Self-knowledge is the beginning of wisdom. But we know so little about ourselves; we do not know the unconscious as well as the conscious parts of ourselves, the totality of our whole being. And is it possible to know ourselves totally? Surely, if one is incapable of knowing oneself, the totality of one's being, then all search is without meaning. Then search becomes a contradiction, one desire against another desire. But if we can understand ourselves, if we can patiently and diligently observe the functioning of our whole being, then we shall find that the mind becomes very clear and free. Only such a mind is capable of inquiring into, searching out the eternal - and then perhaps there is no search at all, for then the mind itself is the eternal. It is very difficult for most of us to know ourselves, because we are always measuring our thoughts, our actions, our feelings. We hope that through this measurement we shall come to know ourselves; but surely a mind that is always judging, evaluating, can never know itself as it is, because it has a standard, a pattern, by which it evaluates. I think this is one of our major difficulties - that we cannot observe our feelings, our thoughts, without evaluation, without approving or condemning. For most of us, judgment, comparison, approval, condemnation, is the very essence of our existence. That is why we are unable to go into the greater depths of our own thoughts and feelings, the conscious as well as the unconscious. If we would understand a child, for instance, it is surely of no value to compare him with his brother. To understand him, we must look at him without comparison; we must observe him at different times, in all his various moods. But we are brought up, we are educated, to compare, to judge, to condemn; and we think that by comparison, by condemnation, by judgment, we shall understand. On the contrary, as long as we compare, judge, condemn, we shall never understand a thing. In the same manner, if we would understand the totality of our being, however ugly or beautiful, transient or permanent, we must be capable of looking at ourselves in the mirror of relationship, without evaluation, without comparison; and then we shall find that the totality of consciousness begins to unfold. After all, though we are somewhat aware of the functioning of the conscious mind, most of us know very little about ourselves at the greater depths of consciousness. We never look at that part of ourselves, we have never even inquired into it; or if we inquire into it, it is only when we are troubled by some kind of neurosis, and then we have to run to somebody to help us. That is not knowing ourselves. Knowing ourselves implies self-observation at every moment of the day, in our relationships, in our speech, in our actions, in our gestures; it implies being fully aware of ourselves, so that we begin to find out what we are. And we will find that we are very little. We are only that which we have been conditioned to be. We believe, or we do not believe; we repeat what we have been told. We accept because we are afraid, and religions grow out of our fear. That is why it is very important to know oneself - not theoretically, or according to the psychologist's point of view, but to know for oneself what one intrinsically is. And I do not think this is very difficult if one gives one's full attention to discovering what one is in every moment of relationship. Then you will find that religion is something entirely different from anything you already know. Religion has nothing to do with these absurd organizations which control the mind through this belief or that; it has nothing whatever to do with any so-called religious society. On the contrary, a truly religious man does not belong to any such society, to any organized religion; but to be truly religious requires immense understanding of the ways of the self, of one's own integral state. There is no essential difference between the man who believes in God and considers himself to be religious, and the man who disbelieves and who thinks he is not religious. Each is conditioned by the society in which he lives, and to be free from that conditioning requires the intensification of discontent. It is only when the mind is discontented, in revolt, when it is not merely accepting or trying to find some new form of comfort - it is only then that a truly religious man comes into being. Such a truly religious man is the true revolutionary, because only he can alter, at quite a different level, the whole attitude of society. But this requires an extraordinary understanding of oneself. Self-knowledge is of prime importance, it is absolutely essential for any seeker after truth; for if I do not know myself, how can I seek truth? The instrument of search, which is my own mind, may be perverted, twisted, and it is only through self-knowledge that the mind can be straightened out. The clear, straight mind alone can inquire into that which is true - not the confused mind. A mind that is confused can only find that which is also confused. But a confused mind cannot become unconfused by relying on another, by seeking the authority of a book, of a priest, of an analyst, or what you will. Confusion comes to an end only when the mind begins to understand itself. And out of this understanding come clarity and stillness of mind. It is only the mind which is completely still that is capable of receiving the timeless. I have been given some questions, and I shall try to answer some of them. But before I do so, I think it would be wise to explain that the complex problems of life have no answer. None of the great issues have an answer which will be satisfactory. What we can do is to inquire into the problem itself. The mind that is seeking an answer to the problem will never understand the problem, because it is concentrated on finding the answer; and invariably it is seeking an answer which will be immediately satisfying, comforting. So, if one really wants to understand a problem, one should never ask for an answer, but rather inquire into the problem itself. This, again, is very difficult for most of us, because to inquire into a problem requires intelligence, patience, diligent observation - never accepting or rejecting, but exploring. When we suffer, most of us want an immediate response, because our only concern is to escape from that suffering. In seeking an escape, we create illusions, and those illusions can be exploited by the cunning. So, in considering these question, we are not seeking an answer; because, as I said, there is no answer, and that is true. You may ask what love is, and perhaps someone will answer you verbally; but that answer will have very little meaning. If we would find out what it means to love, all forms of attachment must go. Attachment brings fear; and how can there be love if there is fear? So, through these questions we are going to explore the problem. If you are merely looking for an answer, I am afraid you will be disappointed. But if together we can undertake the journey of exploration, so that each one of us experiences the state of inquiry, then we shall find that the problem is resolved - not because we have actively done something about the problem, but because the problem exists only while we are not giving it complete attention. We can give complete attention to the problem only if there is no sense of condemnation, no reference to the past in order to understand the present. Question: Is not authority helpful in this world of chaos and confusion? Krishnamurti: I think this is a good question to go into. Most of us are confused, are we not? The issues of life are many and difficult, and there are innumerable specialists, teachers, oriental gurus, innumerable books and churches, all claiming to know the answers. Being confused, you look to those who say they know; but because you are confused, your choice of a guide will also be confused. Being anxious to find out, you invariably create authority - the authority of a book, the authority of a church, of an individual, of the collective, or of an idea. So authority exists because you create it; you create it out of your own confusion and uncertainty. The anatomy of authority is the anatomy of our own uncertainty. We want to be certain, to be gratified, and so we look to someone for an answer - to a teacher, a guru, and God knows who else. So our whole structure of thinking is based on authority. It is an extraordinarily complex problem; and what is important, surely, is not the worship of authority, or the substitution of one authority for another, but rather to find out if the mind can free itself from its own confusion. When the mind is very clear, it needs no authority; but when it is uncertain, confused, when it is in misery, in turmoil, then it looks to another for help. And can another help? Or is there fundamentally no help at all, because the misery, the turmoil, the confusion, is created by oneself, and therefore must be cleared away by oneself? Surely, whatever another can do to help is but a temporary alleviation. But to clear up one's own confusion requires great energy, freedom to find out what is true - not rushing about asking for help. I think this is important to understand. There are wars, starvation in the East, economic problems, the hierarchical outlook on life, the divisions of class, religions and nationalities, and we are caught in all this contradiction and turmoil, which is very confusing; and it seems to me of the utmost importance to find out, amidst all this chaos, what is true. To find out, surely, we must stop seeking. Because how can a man seek when he is confused? His seeking and finding will only add to the confusion. I think this is such a simple fact, if only we could realize it. But if one knows how to clarify one's own confusion, then one will not look to another, one will not depend on another. So, in order to bring about clarity, sanity in this mad world, it is important, first of all, to know for oneself what one is actually doing. Being confused, having so many contradictory desires and compulsions, we are everlastingly trying to bring out of this inward chaos one dominant desire that will control all the others - which only creates another problem. That is why it is very important, for those of us who are really serious about these matters, to understand ourselves, and not merely pursue in our confusion the various dogmas of the East or of the West. It requires a great deal of attention to perceive for oneself how deeply rooted one's confusion is; but most of us are unwilling even to admit that we are confused. It seems to me that authority will exist - the authority, whether inward or external, that compels psychologically, spiritually - so long as we are seeking any form of security for ourselves, or for a particular group, or nation. Authority breeds exploitation, it brings darkness, brutality, in the name of God, or peace, or the State. That is why the man of peace has no authority, inward or outward -which does not mean that he goes about breaking the law. To realize all this requires a great deal of penetration, insight into oneself. Self-knowledge cannot be learned from any book, nor through merely attending one or two talks or discussions. The treasure lives within oneself; and it is revealed in the mirror of our daily relationships, through watchfulness, observation, which is to be aware without any choice. Question: Will you please tell us what freedom is? Is this not an illusion which we are all pursuing? Krishnamurti: We want freedom only when we are aware of our bondage; and because we do not know how to free ourselves from bondage, we pursue freedom. But if we have the capacity to free ourselves from bondage, then there is freedom, we do not have to pursue it, or inquire what freedom is - we can leave that to the philosophers and speculators. The important thing is to find out in what manner we are held, bound, for in the very understanding of that bondage, there is freedom. The moment we struggle against bondage, we create another bondage. But if we can understand the whole psychological process of bondage - not merely what binds us now, but how it has come into being, the motives, the implications, the whole background of it, both conscious and unconscious - then in that very understanding there is freedom; we do not have to `become' free. Take fear, for example. Most of us are bound by fear in one form or another; and it is a very complex process, is it not? Do we know that we are afraid, and how fear comes into being? Or do we merely theorize about it? Fear exists, surely, only in relationship to something, it does not exist by itself. I am afraid of something - of death, of poverty, of what my neighbour might say, and so on. And can I look into this whole problem of fear? I can look only if I am not trying to do something about it. What is this fear? Is it fear of the unknown? Or are we afraid of losing the known - of being poor, for example. Can the mind be free from this fear of being poor? And is it poverty of the mind, or poverty of physical existence, to which we give importance? Surely, the thoughtful man, the man who is really trying to find out, is concerned with the poverty of the mind. And can this poverty of the mind be overcome by knowledge, by reading books? Can the mind enrich itself through any form of fulfillment? And is there fulfillment at all, or merely the demand of a mind which is afraid of its own poverty and therefore seeks to fulfil itself? So the problem of fear is not very simple, and it requires a great deal of inquiry on the part of the mind to find out in what manner it is afraid. When there is an understanding of the whole process of fear, there is freedom - not just freedom from fear, but freedom for the mind to go beyond itself. The man who is free from something knows only a limited freedom. You see, to inquire into all this takes a great deal of energy, attention, not merely for an hour or two, but at every moment of the day, when you are in the bus, at your office, with your family, or walking by yourself. There must be this constant inquiry, a searching, a watching, so that the whole content of one's being is revealed. Then you will find, in the discovery and understanding of what one actually is, there comes the opening of the door to freedom. June 16, 1956 BRUSSELS, BELGIUM 2ND PUBLIC TALK 17TH JUNE 1956 It seems to me that one of the most difficult thing to do is to communicate rightly. If I want to say something I must use certain words, and words naturally tend to have a somewhat different meaning or significance for each one of us who listens. Merely to sit together in silence has its own benefit; but really to communicate we must verbalize, and it is very difficult to communicate properly what one means to convey so that the other understands the full intent of it, especially when dealing with subjects which are rather complex, as we are doing now. We require a certain ease of communication, so that all of us understand what it is we are talking about. I want to deal with something which I feel is rather important: whether it is possible, living in this world, to free oneself from all conditioning, so that one becomes truly individual and hence is able to find out what it means to be creative. Surely, that which may be called reality, God, truth, or what you will, is a state of constant renewal, a state of creativeness; and this creativeness cannot be realized, cannot be experienced or known without true individuality; and to come to that true individuality there must be freedom from conditioning. Our minds are conditioned by the society in which we live, by the books which we have read, by religion, by moral and social values, by our own fears, ambitions, envy, and so on; all these things go to create a conditioning of the mind. I think this is very obvious. And is it possible to free the mind from this conditioning - not to find a better or more noble conditioning, but to totally free the mind from all conditioning? Until we do that, surely, we are not individuals; we are merely the result of the collective - which again is very obvious, though we may not have thought about it. When we examine ourselves a little closely, it is apparent that most of our thinking, most of the values, the experiences, the knowledge, the beliefs that we have, are the result of our education, of innumerable influences; the climate we live in, the food we eat, the literature and newspapers we read, the whole environmental background - all this conditions the mind. We can see that our thinking is always according to a pattern, and that the pattern is well-established. The more highly organized a society, the more efficient and ruthless it is, the more thoroughly the pattern is cultivated and drilled into the mind. And is it possible to be free of that conditioning, so that the mind does not think according to a pattern, but goes beyond all thought? - which does not mean a vague mysticism, a dreamy state; on the contrary, it is a very precise state. So, can the mind free itself from its conditioning? I know there are those who say it is impossible, because human beings are entirely the result of environmental influences. One man, being brought up as a Christian, believes in the dogmas of Christianity, while another who is brought up as a Communist believes in none of those things - which again shows how the mind is influenced and set going in a pattern, in a groove, in which it continues to function. Looking at all this, what is our response? Whether we are Christians, Hindus, Buddhists, or what you will, it must have occurred to us, if we are at all serious, that each one is shaped, conditioned by a particular pattern - not only the pattern imposed by society, by the culture, the economic influences, the religion in which one is brought up, but also by a pattern imposed from within. And we must have asked ourselves whether it is possible for the mind which habitually thinks in a certain groove, to break out of it. Surely, it is only a free mind that can discover anything new. A man who merely believes or disbelieves in God, is still caught in the pattern of a particular environment; through fear, through compulsion, through every form of influence, he is still part of the collective. So, is the mind thus bound capable of freeing itself? The capacity to be free surely does not depend on another. I see that my mind is the result of innumerable experiences, that its responses are determined by an already conditioned state; and if I am interested to find out whether my mind can free itself, not partially but totally, at the unconscious as well as at the conscious level, then I do not have to ask another; I can watch myself. I may free myself from the idea of `my country', from stupid nationalism, from the beliefs in which I have been brought up; but in the very process of freeing myself, I may fall into another set of patterns. Instead of being a Hindu I may become a Christian, a Buddhist, a Communist, or what you will - which is still a pattern. So, is it possible to break away from one pattern without falling into another? If one is very alert and observant of the habit-forming process of the mind, it is possible superficially to free the mind from the formation of habits. But the problem is not so simple, because there is the whole unconscious, which is also conditioned, and its conditioning is much more difficult to see. After all, through talk, through reasoning, through various forms of observation, I can free my mind from the superficial conditioning of being a Hindu or a Catholic - and this is obviously necessary. If I am to seek out what is real, I must first have a mind which is unconditioned. A conditioned mind can project its own ideas, and then experience those ideas. The Christian who is very devout and heavily conditioned can experience a vision of Christ; but he is experiencing his own projection from the background in which he has been brought up, and such experience has no validity at all. But if we can go beyond all the superficial responses of the mind, then perhaps we can penetrate much more deeply into the unconscious, which is ceaselessly projecting its conditioning. So, is it possible consciously to go into the unconscious and discover its various forms of conditioning? I do not know if you have thought about this at all. You may have opinions about it, you may assert that it is possible or impossible; but I do not think a student who is really inquiring into the whole question will ever make assertions of that kind. He must be in a state of inquiry. And he cannot inquire with regard to someone else, he can only inquire into his own mind. Inquiry, it seems to me, must be without a motive, without a compulsion in any direction. If I have a motive for my inquiry, that motive dictates what I shall find. So real inquiry does not exist so long as there is a motive. And most of us have a motive of some kind, have we not? We want to be happy, we want to be inwardly rich, we want to find God, we want to achieve this or that. And can the mind strip itself of all motive and be in a state of inquiry? I think this is really a fundamental question; because it is only when we are free of motive that we shall be able to inquire into the totality of the unconscious. After all, the unconscious is the repository of many motives of which we are unaware - fears, anxieties, and the racial residue. To inquire into all that, the conscious mind, at least, must be free of motive. And to cleanse even the conscious mind of motive demands a great deal of watchfulness, observation of oneself. It means being aware of the whole process of thinking, finding out how thought springs into the mind, and whether it can ever be free; or whether thought is merely the reaction of a particular background through memory, and therefore is never free. One may be able to reason very intelligently, very cleverly; but that reasoning has the background of a particular conditioning. So, if the conscious mind is to inquire into the unconscious, where all the motives, the urges, the compulsions of centuries are stored, then the conscious mind must surely begin by being free of motives and patterns. And it is only in that inquiry, it seems to me, that we begin to dissolve the collective influences of which we are now made up. We are not individuals now; though we may have a distinctive name, a personal bank account, and all the rest of it, that does not constitute individuality. But what does bring about the true individual is this state of mind in which there is freedom from conditioning. Only then is it possible to find out whether there is a reality beyond the limitations of thought, beyond the inventions and theories of the mind. Until we come to this state, what we believe or do not believe about God, or truth, has very little significance. Our beliefs and disbeliefs will merely be the repetitive, imitative ideas and thoughts which we have learned from some book, or from another person, or which we have projected out of our own desire for comfort. The truly religious man is not the one who clings to certain beliefs and dogmas, or who strictly practises morality, but rather the man who begins to understand the whole process of his own thinking, the unconscious as well as the conscious. Such a man is an individual, for his mind is no longer repetitive; although there is the memory of the things it has known, they do not interfere. Such a mind becomes extraordinarily quiet, without any movement of desire, without any projection or motive. In that state there is the creativity of reality. But this is not a thing that you can hear about and repeat, like a boy learning and repeating his lessons. To do that has no meaning at all. One has to go into oneself very deeply, pushing aside all the trivial fears, the envies, the ambitions, the desire to be secure, to be attached, to be dependent, which for most of us is very important -pushing all that stupid nonsense aside, not just temporarily, but actually being free of it. Only then is it possible to find out if there is a reality or not, if there is God if there is something which is beyond time. Until we find that out for ourselves - not through somebody else, not through saviours or teachers, but directly experience it for ourselves - , life is a very superficial thing. We may have immense riches, great influence, and be able to travel all over the world; we may have vast knowledge and be very clever in our talk; but without that direct experience, life becomes very trivial, and underneath there is always misery, struggle, pain. Then we are everlastingly trying to give life a meaning, we are forever asking what is the purpose of life; so we invent a purpose - a cynical purpose of despair, or a purpose of delight. But if we are capable of this constant inquiry, which is really a form of meditation, then we are bound to come to the point when we realize that all our thinking is conditioned, and that our beliefs and dogmas have no value at all. And when we see that they have no value, they drop away without our struggling against them. The totality of our conditioning can be broken - not bit by bit, which takes time, but immediately, by directly perceiving the truth of the matter. It is the truth that liberates, not time, or your intention to be free. That is why the mind must be extraordinarily open, receptive. For truth is not to be pursued and caught; it must come. So it is important to inquire into this whole question of conditioning, and not merely accept another's assertion as to whether the mind can be free or not. One has to inquire and free oneself. Then I think we shall find something beyond all words, about which there can be no possible communication. The man who has realized, experienced that thing for himself, is a truly religious man, for he is no longer influenced by society - society being this structure of ambition, of acquisition, of envy, the self-centred activity of the collective. Question: Is there such a thing as real happiness? Can anyone ever find it, or is our pursuit of it an illusion? Krishnamurti: I think if we pursue happiness, life becomes very shallow. After all, happiness is a thing that comes to you, it is a byproduct; when you go after happiness, it eludes you, does it not? If you are conscious that you are happy, you are no longer happy. When you know that you are joyous, surely at that very moment you have ceased to be joyous. I do not know if you have noticed this. It is like the man who is conscious of his humility; surely such a man is not humble. So happiness, I think, is something that cannot be pursued, any more than you can pursue peace. If you pursue peace, your mind becomes stagnant. For peace is a living state; and to understand what peace is requires a great deal of intelligence and hard work -not merely sitting down and wishing for peace. Similarly, happiness requires immense understanding, insight and hard work -as much hard work as you give to earning a livelihood, and far more. But if you are merely seeking happiness, then you might just as well take a drug. To pursue happiness, it seems to me, is to pursue an illusion. In that pursuit is involved a very complex process. There is the pursuer, and the thing which he pursues. When there is a pursuer wanting something, there is always conflict; and so long as there is conflict, there is no understanding, but only a series of miseries and an endless struggle to overcome them in order to reach happiness. This is the conflict of duality, of the thinker and his thought. Only when the mind is no longer pursuing its own gratification, its own fulfillment, no longer trying to reach happiness, which is a self-centred activity - only then is there the cessation of all conflict. This state may be called happiness - but that is irrelevant. So it is important to go into this problem of effort and conflict. I wonder if we understand anything through effort? And if we do not make an effort, what will happen? We have been brought up, educated, to make an effort; and if we do not make an effort, we think something is wrong, we fear that we shall stagnate, degenerate. But if we are at all observant of ourselves, I think we must have found that understanding comes at those moments when the mind is very quiet, and not during the period of struggle. And the mind is in a state of perpetual struggle so long as it wants to be happy, secure, or is seeking some kind of permanency. Where there is conflict, there must be tension, misery; but to live without conflict is an immense problem. One cannot just brush it aside, saying "I'm going to live without conflict" - that has no meaning. Nor can one meditate, do all kinds of mystical things, in order to have no conflict - which is very childish. One has to understand the psychological process of this movement which we call conflict; and we cannot possibly understand it so long as there is the motive to achieve something. So long as I want to be something - happy, good, virtuous - , so long as I want to find God, or what you will, there must be conflict, and with it, misery and pain. One has to understand totally the whole process of achieving, end-gaining, and not merely say "If I do not make an effort I will degenerate, I will lose my job", which is a very superficial response. To understand deeply the psychological problem, the inward nature of effort, requires a great deal of self-perception. That is why it is very important to know oneself. In the very process of self-knowledge, perhaps there will be happiness on the side - which is very unimportant. Question: You seem to deny yoga. Do you think it has no value at all? Krishnamurti: Yoga is a particular system invented by the Hindus, by which to find, to be, to become. We think that through some such system we shall be able to achieve peace of mind. We think that by right breathing, by having the right kind of yoga, by practising meditation, controls, discipline, we shall arrive at that state of mind in which it is possible to find out what God is, or if there is God. Many people think these systems will lead to that. But I think the whole idea of any method or system leading to God - though it may produce a particular result which is apparently practical in this world - , is utterly illusory. Because, truth or God has no path, no system by which you can approach it; and I think this is fairly obvious to anyone who is not already committed to a pattern or a method. After all, merely doing a particular exercise, thinking along a fixed line, struggling to control all one's thoughts -none-of this makes the mind really alert, pliable, intelligent, perceptive. What is required is not to set the mind in a particular pattern, however fascinating, but to free the mind so that it is able to discover. How can the mind discover what is true if it is caught in a system? There are new kinds of drugs which give all the things that yoga promises. You can take these drugs and become very happy, have a mind that is very quiet, intensely aware of things, of people, of nature. But surely those are all tricks. They do not help the mind to discover what is true. By taking a drink, or one of these pills, or by doing yoga, you can have a certain temporary alleviation, satisfaction, peace; but you will have to keep on taking your drug. Please, those of you who practise yoga, do not merely brush this aside, saving that I am prejudiced. This is a very important question: whether you can, through any trick, by taking a pill or practising some method of making the mind quiet, bring about that state of deep comprehension of what is true. I say it cannot be done. Yoga, drugs, drink, all the various stimulants, produce their own results; but they cannot possibly make the mind into that astonishing instrument of inquiry, of search and discovery. You see, we all want methods, systems, pills, to make us immediately happy; it is the immediacy we are after. But if we are at all alert to the whole issue, we shall see that merely to go on asserting that yoga is useful, indicates a very shallow mind. The problem is not whether yoga is right or wrong, but whether the mind can be freed from creating a habit and living in that habit. A mind that seeks peace and establishes itself in the routine of peace, is not a peaceful mind; it has merely disciplined itself, compelled itself to conform to a pattern, and such a mind is not a living mind, it is not innocent, fresh. Only the mind that is innocent, fresh, free to discover, is creative. Question: How is it possible to live in this world without any kind of security? Krishnamurti: I do not think it is possible to live in this world without security. If you did not know where you were going to get your next meal, where you were going to sleep tonight, and so on, it would become impossible; you would not be able to think; you could not call it living. Governments and society are gradually bringing about that physical security - the Welfare State, and all the rest of it. But surely that is not the real problem. The problem is that we want to be secure inwardly, psychologically we want to be secure. Therefore we invent such things as nationalism, God, this and that, in which we seek psychological security - and thereby bring about physical insecurity. After all, so long as I insist that I am a Hindu and find delight in being an Indian - making an ideal of it, or what you will, and depending on that for my inward security - , I create a division between man and man, the division of nationalities, frontiers, class differences, which will invariably bring about insecurity, psychologically as well as physically. So, is it possible for the mind not to seek security at all? Is it possible to be psychologically free of this demand to be secure, this demand for permanency? At present we are all seeking permanency in some form or other - permanency in relationship, permanency after death, permanency in our ideas, a continuity of belief - , all of which indicates an inward insufficiency which makes us want psychological security. So, is it possible for the mind to be free from this urge to be secure? After all, if you observe, we are always seeking permanency in our relationships, are we not? We want permanency in our relationship with society, with a particular person, or with one or two. And if that is once established, then we want permanency in another direction - we want to become something, we want to be well-known, famous. If it is not that, then we want permanency after death, or permanent peace, a permanent state of happiness; or we want to be permanently good. I think this is the whole problem - to understand and free the mind of this constant urge to seek a permanent state. For does not this demand for permanency lead to mediocrity? Surely it is only the mind that is uncertain, that has no continuity in the known - it is only such a mind that is capable of discovery, capable of renewing itself; not the mind that is merely moving from the known to the known. After all, that is what we are doing, is it not? What we want is the continuity of the known - the known experience, the known pleasure. And so long as the mind is seeking that state of permanency, we are bound to create division between man and man. The problem is, then, can the mind live without seeking permanency at all? Is there a mind, if there is no permanency? After all, the mind is the result of time, of the innumerable experiences it has had, and it cannot brush all that aside. The very words it is using are the result of memory, the known. But need those memories, the known, interfere and make the mind incapable of inquiring? The mind is capable of inquiring, of discovering, only when there is uncertainty, when there is freedom from the known. All this is not a mere matter of acceptance or rejection. You have to experiment with this - that is, if you are at all seriously interested. You have to go deeply into yourself inquire most profoundly, so that the mind becomes capable of renewing itself, of remaining innocent in spite of the innumerable experiences and accidents of life. For only the innocent mind, the fresh mind, is open to receive that which is eternal. June 17, 1956 BRUSSELS, BELGIUM 3RD PUBLIC TALK 18TH JUNE 1956 It seems to me that it would be a waste of time and energy if one merely came to these talks as an intellectual distraction, or to find new ideas with which to play. We are concerned here with something much more fundamental than mere amusement or intellectual stimulation. We are concerned with a radical change in human thought; and this requires considerable inquiry, deep questioning and hard work. A radical change is obviously necessary, because society is in conflict within itself. Although we profess love and brotherhood, every man is against another; each one belongs to a particular religion or country, and. the whole social structure of the world is based on conflict, on envy, on acquisition. Those of us who are really seriously concerned, who are at all alive to the whole human problem of existence, must be aware of the extraordinary suffering there is, both within and without. And we must also be aware of how urgent it is to bring about a fundamental change in human relationship - which is, after all, society. At present what we call religion is principally a matter of conforming to a particular dogma or belief and the fact that we are greedy, envious, brutal, is evidently irrelevant. But religion, surely, is something quite different; it is the process of trying to find out, to establish, the right relationship between man and man, so that we do not merely conform to a particular pattern of society, or to the pattern of any belief or dogma. If we are at all serious - as we must be in a world that is full of crises - we must be concerned, not merely intellectually or sentimentally, but as individuals, as vital human beings, with how to bring about a radical change. And it seems to me that it will be utterly useless for us to go through all these talks unless you and I are willing to inquire into the whole matter very deeply, actually experiencing as we go along. We shall have to feel out for ourselves how to change deeply and fundamentally, how to approach the whole problem anew, and not merely repeat the old pattern of existence in different ways and under different labels. Surely, to bring about a radical change in the world, we need a tremendous revolution - not a Communist revolution, which is no revolution at all, nor any revolution of a merely social nature, but a fundamental transformation in ourselves. Is it possible to bring about this radical change? And what is the motive that makes us change? If there is a motive, is there a change? And what is the factor that brings this change? Is it the action of will, or the action of knowledge, or the action of mere social convenience? Or does the change come about, not at any of these levels, but much more radically, and away from all social and environmental influences? I think this must be a very deep problem for most of us, if we have thought about it at all. Because we see an enormous amount of starvation in Asia, while in the West there is over-production and the piling up of armaments. The whole of the West is much better off in the material sense; the people are more healthy, more vigorous, they have more to eat, and the Welfare State is bringing about security for old age; whereas, in the East there is not enough food for the majority of the people, there is starvation, and the exploitation of centuries continues. And even in the West there are contradictions, they are in conflict among themselves. Seeing this whole picture - not as Christians or Communists, nor as representatives of the East or of the West, but as human beings who are struggling, who are suffering, who have love - we must surely be concerned to find out how to bring about a radical change, so that we do not continue in the same old patterns of existence. And can this change, this revolution, come about through conscious effort, or only through understanding the psyche, not merely intellectually, but actually? And who is the entity that is to bring about this change? As a human being I see this extraordinary world problem; and I also see that the world problem is my problem, because society is what I am. I have been educated in a particular society, as we all have; as human beings we are conditioned. And how am I to bring about this change in myself, and so in society? Am I now different from society? Must I not break away from society totally, completely, if I am to affect society? And who is to break away from it? Is there an `I', a centre, from which there can be independent action which is not controlled, dominated, shaped by society? If there is a centre which is independent, uninfluenced by society, then that centre, given the opportunity, will act. But is there such a centre? Or is the totality of consciousness - the whole of it, not merely a segment - the result of innumerable social influences, contradictions and urges? Can I - when I say "I" it also includes you - can I, who am the product of society, of time, of influence - can this `I', through any action, through any desire, through any compulsion, bring about a change? Is not this `I', who wishes to bring about a change, made up of all the various elements which also compose society? And if I merely alter one or two of these elements in myself discard one or two patterns, surely I have not broken away from society. So it seems to me that we must first find out whether it is possible to change at all; and what is the force, what is the drive, what is the compulsion that makes me want to change? In what way is this whole structure of the `me' related to society? Am I -the thinker, the entity who wants, desires, seeks, who is frustrated, envious, brutal, loving, and all the rest of it - am I different from society? And what do we mean by society? Society is obviously the relationship between man and man, it is a structure we have built up in our relationship with others. That relationship, which is society, is based on acquisitiveness, envy, fear, ambition, on the seeking of power, position, prestige. And these things are what each one of us also wants - only perhaps in a more tolerant, more dignified, more respectable way. The very essence of society is the seeking of wealth, and the effort to fulfil one's ambition by identifying oneself with a particular group or country. Those who seek to reform - the missionaries, the internationalists, the believers - are also within the acquisitive pattern of society, as we all are. So, I am not different from society - which is so obvious, is it not? The whole social structure is based on this drive to be great, to fulfil one's ambition, to distract oneself, to escape from pain or pursue amusement; and it gives rise to brutality, to war, to hatred, with occasional use of the word `love'. That is the source from which all our thinking comes - and we are aware of it. Now, how are you and I, as two human beings concerned with this enormous problem - how are we to break away from society? How are we to completely free ourselves from all the things which society represents, and of which we are made up - envy, hate, ambition, greed, vanity, the search for power, for position, and so on? For only then is it possible to break away from society, not by becoming a hermit and wearing a loincloth, or going into a monastery - that is not breaking away from society; because even though I may enter a monastery, I am still ambitious to become the abbot, or to be more `spiritual' than somebody else. So how is that centre, from which all my thinking and your thinking proceeds. to be changed? Can it be changed through discontent? If there is any form of change through discontent, it will produce a pattern, will it not?, which will again create a structure in which the dominant factor will be the desire for satisfaction. If my change is based on discontent, then the mind is seeking contentment, satisfaction - which is exactly what society is after; so I am back again in the old pattern, only under a different name. A fundamental change cannot possibly be brought about through discontent, and I think this is very important to understand. If I change because I am dissatisfied with things as they are in the world - with the rottenness, the vanity, the snobbishness, the cruelty, the rich and the poor - if, seeing all that, I am merely discontented, and my drive to change is based on that discontent, then surely I will create a new pattern of society which will be similar to the old, only in different terms. I think one must see this very clearly. For unfortunately, most of the so-called change which is brought about in the world comes through discontent, dissatisfaction. How is one, then, to bring about this change? I do not know if you have thought it out seriously and deeply, with real intention to find out. If one has, one can see that when any form of motive brings about change, it is no change at all So long as I am discontented, or identify myself with a group or a belief, so long as I have a motive of any sort, noble or personal, that motive is bound to create the old pattern again in a different field. And yet I know there must be change. For unless one changes, not superficially, but radically, one is dead - even though one may have all the latest improvements, the latest gadgets and mechanical conveniences -including the electronic brain, which does some things much better than the human mind. So, if we are at all serious, our problem is how to bring about this fundamental change. A change which is conscious is surely no change at all. The mind of each one of us is formed, shaped through motive, through drive, through urge, through desire, through time; it is educated in the pattern of society. And for such a mind, can there be a conscious, deliberate action of will which will bring about this change? Is it not rather that a change, this fundamental, radical revolution, comes only when the mind has dissociated itself from the centre which is the `me', which is society? After all, the `me', this centre from which all our thinking takes place, is the result of social influences, of reaction between man and man; it is the result of time; and any change which is brought about from this centre is still part of the centre. It seems to me very important to understand this; for surely, any action based on will is no action at all, because it creates contradiction, struggle, and therefore repression, defence, resistance. Similarly, action brought about by desiring to do `good' leads to innumerable contradictions and misery. How can one know what is good for the whole of man? Furthermore, any action based on the intellectual gathering of information, which is called knowledge, again conditions the mind. Action born of knowledge is bound to be limited. And yet knowledge is the whole content of one's mind, is it not? Although one may think there is a God who is going to influence one's action, that concept is still within the field of thought. So, being very desirous to bring about a change, what are you and I to do? Can the mind totally free itself from ambition? I am taking that as an example. Can it be completely free from envy, which is part of ambition? - the envy that is always comparing, desiring to have more knowledge, more success, more power, more money or prestige. Can the mind - which is the result of this society based on acquisitiveness and comparative thinking - totally free itself from envy and ambition, from wanting more, more, more? If we could understand this one thing - how to free the mind from envy - , then perhaps we should be able to break away from the whole structure of society. But to understand that one thing, to really go into it, requires a great deal of attention. After all, most of us are ambitious - if not in regard to this world, because here we have been frustrated, then our ambitions turn to the other world, where we want to sit next to God, we want to be spiritual entities. Here or hereafter, we want to be somebody - which does not mean we must not be anybody. But the urge, the compulsion, the thing that makes me desire to be something - can that be completely cut off? If my mind does not shake itself totally free from all that, then, however much I may, desire to change, I shall merely be caught in a new pattern in which the seed of ambition still exists, only in a different garb. So, how is the mind to free itself from this problem of ambition, envy, the desire for more? How is it to free itself, not merely from wanting a better job, a bigger house, a finer car, and all that kind of thing, but from the totality of envy, right through? I see that if I resist envy, my very resistance is another form of ambition, because I want to get rid of envy in order to be something else; therefore resistance has no value. By suppressing envy I am not free of it, it is still there, rotting and distorting one's vision; and then there is bitterness, cynicism. So I see the futility of suppression, of resistance, and also the futility of trying to escape from envy, or to find a substitute for it, or to sublimate it. That whole process implies the desire not to be this, but to be something else, all of which is still within the field of envy. We all know what envy is; and can the mind totally dissociate itself from envy? To dissociate itself from envy, the mind must first be aware that it is envious. And are we aware of it? Do we know that we are envious? Or do we only agree that we are envious because we know the word `envy'? If you care to, I think you should experiment with what I am saying, not tomorrow, or later on, but now. Let us take that word `envy' and actually go through the whole experience of it, fundamentally, deeply, and see if one cannot totally wipe away envy from one's whole process of thinking. When we use that word we mean not only the envy of wanting more than one has, but the envy of comparison, the envy of wishing to be something different from what one is, the envy that creates the ideal and the pursuit of that ideal. The man who is free of envy has no ideal - not because he is satisfied with what he is, but because he no longer thinks in terms of the `more' and therefore knows no discontent. It is only the demand for the `more' that creates discontent, envy, and time in which to become something. Can the mind free itself from that whole process? I think the mind can be totally free - not merely verbally, but it can really experience freedom. And this experiencing of freedom is not a fancy, an illusion. Envy can actually be rooted out. Then life becomes an entirely different thing. Then perhaps we shall know what love is, what peace is; we shall know what it is to be truly content without decaying. So, do we know that we are envious? I hope you will be good enough to follow this rather closely, for then perhaps we shall be able not only to think it out together, but actually to eradicate this thing - not for the moment, but finally. We know all the various reasons why we are discontented; and we also know what envy implies, both socially and inwardly. But do we actually experience envy? Surely, there is a great difference between actually experiencing something, and merely having a theory or an opinion about it - or allowing the word `envy' to influence us, and therefore condemning it. Do I know envy directly? Do we know anything directly, or merely through the word? The moment I use the word `envy', all the sociological implications come up, and I condemn that feeling. When I use the word `love', again I am conditioned by sociological influences, and I accept the feeling which that word represents. The one I reject, the other I accept. So, am I aware that the word itself has an extraordinary influence on me, on the mind? And can the mind be free of the word? I think that is the first thing - to recognize the influence of and to be free, if one can, of the word itself. If you will experiment with this, you will see how extraordinarily difficult it is for the mind to free itself from words. And that may be one of the fundamental reasons why the mind is never free from envy -because it is caught in words. Now, can the mind be free from the effect of that word `envy' -not only nervously, neurologically, but inwardly? If the mind can be free from that word, does not the mind then look directly at the feeling which it has called `envy'? And in giving full attention to that feeling without naming it, is there not a cessation of the feeling? Perhaps all this sounds a bit too complex. But surely, if one would understand the whole process of envy, one must go into it very deeply, and not merely accept or reject envy, or try to resist it and cultivate a virtue in its place. When virtue is cultivated, it is no longer virtue. A man who tries to cultivate goodness, has ceased to be good. Goodness is something entirely different. If I try to free myself from envy by cultivating a state of mind in which there is no envy, I am still envious, because the drive to cultivate a state of non-envy is based on envy. If I would eradicate the feeling called `envy', I must understand this whole problem, so that the mind can dissociate itself from all words, including that particular word `envy'. And if it does, is there envy? But merely getting rid of the word as a clever trick in order not to be envious, does not bring about a mind that is completely still, without a word. Only the mind that is completely still, without a word, without a movement, without an image, that is no longer functioning from the centre which is society - only such a mind is free from envy, and can therefore function in a totally different dimension. To me, such a mind is a religious mind. And it is only the religious man who is really revolutionary - not the man who believes, who belongs to a certain church or organization. The truly religious man has nothing to do with all that, for he is outside of society, and it is only he who can bring about a fundamental change in mankind, through right education. Question: Although what you say seems to be of the highest religious quality, you do not lay down any mode of conduct. Why don't you do this? Most of us definitely need one. Krishnamurti: Why do we want a mode of conduct? If we can be a light unto ourselves, why do we want someone else to lay down the rules of behaviour? The question is not, "Why don't you lay down a mode of conduct?", which is too silly, but rather, "Can we be a light unto ourselves under all circumstances?" Though we may fail, though we may make mistakes, isn't it possible to be a light unto ourselves, and not look to another, not seek authority of any kind to tell us what to do? I think this can come about only when we are not seeking comfort, when we are not stretching out a hand and begging someone to give us something by which we shall be satisfied, by which we shall know. We can be a light unto ourselves only when we understand ourselves totally and completely, right through. It is an arduous task to, know oneself; it requires persistent inquiry, alertness, watchfulness. But unfortunately most of us are lazy, and we turn to somebody else to tell us what to do, to take the responsibility off our shoulders; we push it off on the priest, or on God, or on some specialist. That is why we ask this question. We want to be told how to act in order to arrive safely at the other shore. But there is no other shore; there is only a process of travelling, of learning, of experiencing - not something to be arrived at or achieved. One has to be both the teacher and the pupil oneself. That requires energy, attention, watchfulness; but we are lazy, and it is much easier to be told what to do. The man who tells you what to do you set up as your authority, and you become his slave; therefore you are never free, you are never a light unto yourself. So you invent the exploiter, and you become the exploited. To find out how to be a light unto ourselves, how to think truly and rightly from moment to moment, requires a great deal of energy; it is really hard work. But unfortunately we want an easy way, a short cut, so we become increasingly lazy; and old age and death await us. We can find a mode of conduct in any religious book; they all tell us what to do - to be kind, to be loving, to be good, and all the rest of it. But surely that is not enough, because we are human beings, with extraordinary capacity to do good and to do evil; and without understanding for oneself the whole mechanism of the mind, the whole structure of one's own being, without knowing love, merely to have a mode of conduct seems to me utterly useless. We can always circumvent the mode of conduct, and we do. But if we begin to understand the whole content of ourselves, from the very heart, then we shall not look to another. Then we shall be our own saviours, we shall be our own teachers and our own pupils. Question: What is the fundamental difference between the materialistic and the religious concept of life? Krishnamurti: Do you think there is any fundamental difference between the materialistic and the so-called religious concept of life? Material things, made by hand or by machinery, are invented by the mind; and what we call the religious life may also be an invention of the mind - because it is the mind that invents ideas, gods, rituals, saviours. So why separate the two? The materialistic existence, and the so-called spiritual existence, are both a product of the mind - of the mind that is seeking position, power, wealth, comfort, whether physically or psychologically. You may not worship the things made by the hand; but to worship the things made by the mind, is still materialistic, unspiritual. You may worship ideas, ideals - the idea of heaven, the ideal of goodness, of beauty - , as others worship refrigerators, cars; but it is all within the field of the mind. So the question is not, "What is the difference between the materialistic and the religious concept of life?", but whether the mind can free itself from all idealization and the worship of ideas. Can the mind cease creating images and becoming a slave to those images, both materially and in thought? It is much more difficult to be free from thought images than it is to be free from material things. After all, you can fairly easily be detached from your coat, or your car, but it is much more difficult to be free from ideas, beliefs, dogmas, nationalities, because these are your gods. I think it is only when one is free from ideas, from images, from concepts, from conclusions, that one will find out what it is to be really spiritual. Otherwise we shall live in a phoney world of spirituality, a world without any meaning beyond mere sentimentality and emotionalism. So the man who would seek out what is true must not only be free of the idol made by the hand; he must also be free of the idea which lies behind the idol, and which is produced by the mind. Only the man who is free of the idea and the symbol, as well as of material things, can know what it is to be truly religious. June 18, 1956 BRUSSELS, BELGIUM 4TH PUBLIC TALK 23TH JUNE 1956 This evening I think it would be worthwhile to go into the whole question of tradition and memory, and try to discover what is the significance of this background, and how it functions. Tradition, it seems to me, invariably leads to mediocrity. And most of us are merely following tradition - the tradition of security, the tradition which has been handed down through the churches and other so-called religious organizations, or the tradition which we ourselves have built up as experience or knowledge. I think it would be wise and significant if we could go into this whole problem of experiences which condition the mind, and find out whether there is an experiencing which never limits the mind, never creates tradition, conformity. Can the mind ever be free from habit? Or must the mind always move in what is essentially a groove of habit, however apparently significant and worthwhile? Most of our minds do function in the groove of habit, and we seem to be at a loss when for a moment habit is gone. Habit may be necessary for the mind up to a certain point, and then it may become detrimental, a blockage, a hindrance. So it seems to me important to find out what is the function of memory, and how far the mind can free itself from the mere pattern of memory. Is the mind capable of experiencing anything new, or must it always continue in the pattern of the old, however modified? Memory - which is, after all, tradition - has value up to a certain point; but however much information the mind may have stored up, it is incapable, through memory, of discovering something totally new. It seems to me that truth, or God, or whatever name one may like to give to that immeasurable thing, must be wholly unimaginable, not something projected from memory, something which has already been experienced; it must be totally new, something which the mind has never before experienced. A mind that is caught in tradition, that is merely the instrument of memory, living in the pattern of many yesterdays, is surely incapable of finding out what is true. And without the perfume of that reality, life becomes merely mechanical. So it is important, I think, to go into this whole question of what is the function of memory - which means, really, what is the process of the mind? What is thinking? Can thinking ever be free of memory? All thinking - not merely specific thinking, but the totality of it - is the reaction of a background of tradition, of memory, is it not? And can the mind free itself from that background of the past, or is it incapable of being free? A mind that is merely inquiring through thought, through reason, through logic, moving from conclusion to conclusion - surely such a mind can never find out what is true, and whether there is a reality. And is our whole process of inquiry into reality merely a conditioned response, an escape from our tortures, from our pain and suffering? So, what is thinking? How do we think? Let us try to go into this, not theoretically, not philosophically or speculatively, but directly experience what we are talking about, so that each one of us finds out how thought actually operates. This will perhaps help us to be aware of the total process of thinking, and then to see if the mind can go beyond thinking. How do we think? If a question is asked which is familiar, the response is immediate, for there is no need to think. But a more complex question demands thinking - the thinking which is an inquiry, a looking into memory, the storehouse of knowledge. If a question is asked on a subject about which we know nothing, even then there is hesitation, a gap between the question and the response, which means that the mind is again looking into memory to find out if at any time it has learned something about that subject. So our thinking is always the response of memory, of association; our minds move from a fixed point in the past, from a belief or an experience which colours all our thinking. It is fairly obvious that this is the process which most of us go through, consciously or unconsciously, when we think. Now, is it possible for the mind to go beyond that point, so that when it is inquiring into a very complex, unanswerable question -such as whether there is truth, or God, what lies beyond death, and so on - the mind is in a state of not knowing? Can it look at the problem and say `I do not know', because the thought process is entirely dissociated from the past? I think it is very important to come to that point, when all thinking ceases - thinking in the sense of responding according to the past, which is memory. I do not know if I am making myself clear on this issue. If the totality of my thinking process is the response of my conditioning -which it is - , then the mind can never discover what is true, and whether there is anything which has not already been experienced. If the mind is to discover something totally new, it must come to this point, surely, when it is in a state of not knowing. That is why it is very important to go into this whole problem of consciousness - consciousness being the totality of all experience, of all memory, the residue of the past. One must know oneself; for self-knowledge is essential if one is to find out whether the mind can ever be free of all knowledge and discover something new. If we look into ourselves, we shall see that experience conditions the mind. Every new experience is translated in terms of the old; it is absorbed by the established pattern of mediocrity, tradition. And obviously, a mind that is caught in tradition, in mediocrity, can never find out what is true, it can never discover that which is unimaginable, which cannot be conceived of, described, or believed in. So, can the mind free itself from tradition and conformity - not only from those imposed by environment, but from the tradition and conformity which are built up by the mind itself through experience? One can see very well that all one's thinking is the response of one's conditioning. Our reaction to a challenge is always according to the background in which we have been brought up; and so long as we do not know our own conditioning, our thinking is never free. We may be able to adjust ourselves to a new pattern, to a new way of life, to new beliefs, to new dogmas, but in that process thought never frees itself. So one has to inquire very deeply within oneself as to the significance and purpose of memory. And is memory the totality of our consciousness? Consciousness is within the field of time, is it not? My thinking, which is the result of the past, colours the present and projects the future - and this is the process of time. So all my experience is within the field of time. Can the mind free itself from that whole process? And if it does free itself, can it discover something new? I do not think this is so very complicated if one is at all aware of oneself. You can see it for yourself quite simply if you observe the process of your own thinking. We know how extraordinarily easy it is to fall into a groove of habit, how quickly the mind reduces everything to habit - which is sometimes called `adjustment'. The mind always functions from the known to the known; and if the mind is to discover the unknowable, surely it must be free from the known. Can the mind free itself from the known? It is really a very interesting problem - not only interesting, but extraordinarily profound, if we can go into it. All accumulated experience makes the mind conform, does it not? And can the mind free itself from the accumulation of experience? When it is free, is there such a thing as an experiencer? What is it that experiences? Surely, it is the accumulation of previous experiences and memories. The mind responds to any challenge through its previously accumulated knowledge. Either its response is adequate, or inadequate. When it responds adequately, there is no conflict, no suffering; but when there is inadequacy of response, then there is suffering, there is conflict. This is obvious and superficial. To know ourselves we must inquire much more profoundly, we must understand the whole process of our consciousness, the totality of it - not merely the superficial consciousness of daily activities, but the deep unconscious, which contains the whole residue of racial conditioning, the racial memories, the hidden motives, urges, compulsions, fixations. This does not mean that we must go to a psychologist. On the contrary, we must understand ourselves through direct experience. To have this self-knowledge, the mind must be aware of itself from moment to moment; it must see all its own movements, its urges, its motives, the operations of memory, and how, through tradition, it is caught in mediocrity. If the mind can be aware of all that within itself, then you will find there is a possibility of being free from all conditioning and discovering something totally new. Then the mind itself is made new - and perhaps that is the real, the immeasurable. Question: How is it possible to free oneself from psychological dependence on others? Krishnamurti: I wonder if we are conscious that we do depend psychologically on others? Not that it is necessary, or justifiable, or wrong, psychologically to depend on others; but are we, first of all, aware that we are dependent? Most of us are psychologically dependent, not only on people, but on property, on beliefs, on dogmas. Are we at all conscious of that fact? If we know that we do depend on something for our psychological happiness, for our inward stability, security, then we can ask ourselves why. Why do we psychologically depend on something? Obviously, because in ourselves we are insufficient, poor, empty, in ourselves we are extraordinarily lonely; and it is this loneliness, this emptiness, this extreme inward poverty and self-enclosure that makes us depend on a person, on knowledge, on property, on opinion, and on so many other things which seem necessary to us. Now, can the mind be fully aware of the fact that it is lonely, insufficient, empty? It is very difficult to be aware, to be fully cognizant of that fact, because we are always trying to escape from it; and we do temporarily escape from it through listening to the radio, and other forms of amusement, through going to church, performing rituals, acquiring knowledge, and through dependence on people and on ideas. To know your own emptiness, you must look at it; but you cannot look at it if your mind is all the time seeking a distraction from the fact that it is empty. And that distraction takes the form of attachment to a person, to the idea of God, to a particular dogma or belief, and so on. So, can the mind stop running away, escaping, and not merely ask how to stop running away? Because the very inquiry into how the mind is to stop escaping, becomes another escape. If I know that a certain path does not lead anywhere, I do not walk on that path; there is no question of how not to walk on it. Similarly, if I know that no escape, no amount of running away will ever resolve this loneliness, this inward emptiness, then I stop running, I stop being distracted. Then the mind can look at the fact that it is lonely, and there is no fear. It is in the very process of running away from what is that fear arises. So, when the mind understands the futility, the utter uselessness of trying to fill its own emptiness through dependence, through knowledge, through belief, then it is capable of looking at it without fear. And can the mind continue to look at that emptiness without any evaluation? I hope you are following this. It may sound rather complex, and probably it is; but can we not go into it very deeply? Because a superficial answer is completely meaningless. When the mind is fully aware that it escapes, runs away from itself; when it realizes the futility of running away, and sees that the very process of running away creates fear - when it realizes the truth of that, then it can face what is. Now, what do we mean when we say that we are facing what is? Are we facing it, looking at it, if we are always giving a value to it, interesting it, if we have opinions about it? Surely, opinions, values, interpretations, merely prevent the mind from looking at the fact. If you want to understand the fact, it is no good having an opinion about it. So, can we look, without any evaluation, at the fact of our psychological emptiness, our loneliness, which breeds so many other problems? I think that is where the difficulty lies - in our incapacity to look at ourselves without judgment, without condemnation, without comparison; because we have all been trained to compare, to judge, to evaluate, to give an opinion. Only when the mind sees the futility of all that, the absurdity of it, is it capable of looking at itself. Then that which we have feared as being lonely, empty, is no longer empty. Then there is no psychological dependence on anything; then love is no longer attachment, but something entirely different, and relationship has quite another meaning. But to find that out for oneself, and not merely repeat it verbally, one must understand the process of escape. In the very understanding of escape there is the stopping of escape, and the mind is able to look at itself. In looking at itself there must be no evaluation, no judgment. Then the fact is important in itself and there is complete attention, without any desire for distraction; therefore the mind is no longer empty. Complete attention is the good. Question: Does awareness mean a state of freedom, or merely a process of observation? Krishnamurti This is really quite a complex problem Can we understand the whole significance of what it is to be aware? Do not let us jump to any conclusions. What do we mean by ordinary awareness? I see you; and in watching you, looking at you, I form opinions. You have hurt me, you have deceived me, you have been cruel to me, or you have said nice things and flattered me; and consciously or unconsciously all this remains in my mind. When I watch this process, when I observe it, that is just the beginning of awareness, is it not? I can also be aware of my motives, of my habits of thought. The mind can be aware of its limitations, of its own conditioning; and there is the inquiry as to whether the mind can ever be free from its own conditioning. Surely this is all part of awareness. To say that the mind can or cannot be free from its conditioning, is still part of its conditioning; but to observe that conditioning without saying either, is a furthering of awareness -awareness of the whole process of thinking. So through awareness I begin to see myself as I actually am, the totality of myself. Being watchful from moment to moment of all its thoughts, its feelings, its reactions, unconscious as well as conscious, the mind is constantly discovering the significance of its own activities - which is self-knowledge. Whereas, if my understanding is merely accumulative, then that accumulation becomes a conditioning which prevents further understanding. So, can the mind observe itself without accumulation? All this is still only part of awareness, is it not? A tree is not merely the leaf, or the flower, or the fruit; it is also the branch, the trunk - it is everything that goes to make up the whole tree. Likewise, awareness is of the total process of the mind, not just of one particular segment of that process. But the mind cannot understand the total process of itself if it condemns or justifies any part, or identifies itself with the pleasurable and rejects the painful. So long as the mind is merely accumulating experience, knowledge - which is what it is doing all the time - , it is incapable of going further. That is why, to discover something new, there must be a dying to every experience; and for this there must be awareness from moment to moment. All relationship is a mirror in which the mind can discover its own operations. Relationship is between oneself and other human beings, between oneself and things or property, between oneself and ideas, and between oneself and nature; and in that mirror of relationship one can see oneself as one actually is - but only if one is capable of looking without judging, without evaluating, condemning, justifying. When one has a fixed point from which one observes, there is no understanding in one's observation. So, being fully conscious of one's whole process of thinking, and being able to go beyond that process, is awareness. You may say it is very difficult to be so constantly aware. Of course it is very difficult - it is almost impossible. You cannot keep a mechanism working at full speed all the time, it would break up; it must slow down, have rest. Similarly, we cannot maintain total awareness all the time. How can we? To be aware from moment to moment is enough. If one is totally aware for a minute or two, and then relaxes, and in that relaxation spontaneously observes the operations of one's own mind, one will discover much more in that spontaneity than in the effort to watch continuously. You can observe yourself effortlessly, easily, when you are walking, talking, reading - at every moment. Only then will you find out that the mind is capable of freeing itself from all the things it has known and experienced; and it is in freedom alone that it can discover what is true. Question: When we dream, do we enter the collective unconscious? Are the dreams symbolic of our psychological state, and therefore a useful guide? Krishnamurti: I wonder why we are so bothered about dreams? Why is it that we have so many problems, so many questions, and so many experts telling us what to do and how to think? Why has life become such an extraordinarily complex thing? Life is essentially simple; and why has the mind made it complicated? We have made even love complex. We are forever trying to find ways to love, to be compassionate, to be gentle, to be kind - and yet in that very effort we miss it all. And dreams have become still another problem. To solve a problem is not to search for an answer, a solution. If my mind is concerned with the solution of the problem, then I have created another problem, have I not? Do you understand what I mean? Here is a problem - the problem of dreams. I do not know why we have made it into a problem, but we have. Now, if I am concerned with the solution of the whole problem of dreams, then the search for the solution becomes another problem, does it not? So instead of having just one problem, I now have two. And that is the way of our life - problem after problem. We never seem to understand the one central problem from which arise all our problems, and that is our self-centred activity and concern from morning till night. So let us inquire into this. Is each one of us a collective entity, or a separate, distinct individual? Are you and I separate individuals, totally different from one another? That is what we mean by individuality, is it not? - a mind which is not contaminated by the collective, which is not shaped by circumstances, by environment, by the past. Are you and I such individuals? Obviously not. We may think we are individuals, but actually our beliefs, our traditions, our values, our ways of life, are those of the collective. You are Christians, or Hindus, or Buddhists, or Communists, which means that you have been contaminated, conditioned to be what you are; and each one is trying to brainwash the others. Obviously, the superficial consciousness, the everyday working mind, is educated to adjust itself to the present environment, to the present society. It may have acquired a new skill, or a different kind of technology, and may therefore consider itself an individual; but actually it is still conditioned by the past. To me, the totality of consciousness is the result of the past - the past being the experiences of the race, and also the impressions made on the mind during its own past and present activities. So the mind that is trying to be an individual, the mind that has learned new techniques, new ways of speech, new adjustments, is still the totality of the collective; it still has the same hidden motives, the same pursuits, ambitions, envies, suffering. Are we aware of the collective in ourselves? Or, being indifferent to all that, do we merely cultivate the superficial? Now, when our minds are merely being cultivated superficially, when they are occupied all day long with the things we have to do -with various jobs, with learning a livelihood, and so on - , there is no opportunity to inquire into the unconscious. So when we go to sleep, the unconscious projects its movement, its activity, into the relatively quiet conscious mind in the form of symbolic dreams. Surely this is all very obvious. So our dreams may be symbols, hints, intimations from the unconscious, from the totality of the collective consciousness. Then the problem arises of what these symbols mean, what their significance is, how to get them interpreted; and all the complications begin. So the question is, can the mind be free from all symbols in the form of dreams? That is, can the mind be free not to dream? As we said, dreams - not the superficial ones, but the significant dreams -are obviously intimations or hints from the unconscious, of which we are not aware when the mind is absorbed, as it generally is, in earning a livelihood, and so on. And can the mind be free from all dreams, so that during sleep it is able to penetrate more deeply into itself? I think this is the important question - not what dreams are, but whether the mind can be free from all unconscious urges and symbolic hints, intimations, so that it is really silent; for in that silence it can discover great depths. Perhaps this possibility has not occurred to you; but do not make it into another problem. In considering this question, we are not trying to find out what is the significance of dreams. You can discover that for yourself if you begin to be aware, during the day, of your unconscious motives, urges, fixations, beliefs, frustrations. If you are really aware of all that during the waking consciousness; if you are watchful, alertly observant, so that your mind no longer gets caught in ambitions, in frustrations, in the fear of failure, and all the rest of it; then, surely, there is no need to dream. Having been alert during the day, watchful of its reactions, the mind, when it goes to sleep, is quiet, peaceful; and then there is a possibility of touching something unknowable which, on waking, brings great clarity. This is not superstition or mystical nonsense; we are talking of very simple, straightforward facts. So long as my mind is crowded with problems, so long as it is occupied with itself and its ambitions, its fears, its anxieties, its frustrations, obviously it is incapable of going beyond itself. And most of our days are spent in self-occupation; we are concerned with ourselves all the time. Inevitably, therefore, when we go to sleep, our dreams are the intimations of something deeper which we have not understood, and which we again translate in terms of our own self-concern. But if, during the day, we can be fully aware of and so remove all the ambitions, the frustrations, the conflicting desires, the psychological dependencies, then surely the mind is capable - not only during the day, but also during the hours when the body is at rest - of discovering something beyond the measurement of thought. That is why it is so important to know oneself. To know yourself you need not go to any book, to any priest, to any psychologist. The whole treasure is within yourself. It demands only that you observe it - observe yourself in the mirror of relationship. But you cannot observe if you are merely concerned with absorbing and accumulating. Only when the mind is not self-concerned is there a possibility of bliss. June 23, 1956 BRUSSELS, BELGIUM 5TH PUBLIC TALK 24TH JUNE 1956 One of our great difficulties is to know how to free ourselves from the complex problem of sorrow. Intellectually we try to grapple with it, but unfortunately the intellect has no solution to the problem. The best it can do is to find some verbal rationalization, or invent a theory; or else it becomes cynical and bitter. But if we can very seriously examine the problem of suffering - not just verbally, but actually experience the whole process of it - , then perhaps we shall discover its cause, and find out whether that discovery brings about the solution of it. Obviously, the problem of sorrow is one of the fundamental issues in our life. Most of us have some kind of sorrow, secret or open, and we are always trying to find a way to go beyond it, to be free of it. But it seems to me that unless we begin to understand for ourselves the really deep workings of the mind, sorrow will inevitably continue. Is sorrow a thing to be got rid of through rationalization, that is, by explaining the cause of sorrow? Superficially, we all know why we suffer. I am talking particularly of psychological suffering, not merely of physical pain. If I know why I suffer, in the sense that I recognize the cause of my sorrow, will that sorrow disappear? Must I not look for a deeper issue, rather than be satisfied with one of the innumerable explanations of what it is that brings about the state which we call sorrow? And how am I to seek out the deeper issue? Most of us are very easily satisfied by superficial responses, are we not? We quickly accept the satisfactory escapes from the deep issue of suffering. Consciously or unconsciously, verbally or actually, we all know that we suffer, because we have in us the contradiction of desires, one desire trying to dominate another. These contradictory desires make for conflict, and conflict invariably leads to the state of mind which we call suffering. The whole complex of desire which creates conflict - this, it seems to me, is the source of all sorrow. Most of us are caught up in this mass of contradictory desires, wishes, longings, hopes, fears, memories. That is, we are concerned with our achievements, our successes, our well-being, the fulfillment of our ambitions; we are concerned about ourselves. And I think this self-concern is the real source of our conflict and misery. Realizing this, we try to escape from our self-concern by throwing ourselves into various philanthropic activities, or by identifying ourselves with a particular reform; or we stupidly cling to some kind of religious belief, which is not religious at all. What we are essentially concerned with is how to escape from our suffering, how to resolve it. So it seems to me very important, if we would free ourselves from sorrow, to go into this whole complex which we call desire, this bundle of memories which we call the 'me'. Is it possible to live in the world without this complex of desire, without this entity called the `me', from which all suffering arises? I do not know if you have thought of this problem at all. When we suffer for various reasons, most of us try to find an answer, we try to escape by identifying ourselves with one thing or another, hoping it will alleviate our suffering. Yet the suffering goes on, either consciously or underground. Now, can the mind free itself from suffering? This must be a problem to all of us who think about these things, because all of us suffer, acutely or superficially. Can there be an ending to sorrow, or is sorrow inevitable? If it is our human lot to suffer endlessly, then we must accept it and live with it. But I think merely to accept the state of sorrow would be foolish, because no man wants to be in that state. So, is it possible to end sorrow? Surely, sorrow is the result, not only of ignorance - which is lack of self-knowledge - , but also of this enormous effort that everyone is continually making to be something, to acquire something, or to reject something. Can we live in this world without any effort to be or become something, without trying to achieve, to reject, to acquire? That is what we are doing all the time, is it not? We are making effort. I am not saying that there must be no effort, but I am inquiring into the whole problem of effort. I can see in myself - and it must be obvious to most of us - that so long as I desire to be successful, for example, either in this world or psychologically, spiritually, I must make effort, I must exert myself to achieve; and it seems to me that suffering is inherent in the very nature of that effort. Please do not brush this aside. It is easy to say "One cannot live in this world without effort. Everything in nature struggles, and if we do not make effort there will be no life at all". That is not what I am talking about. I am inquiring into the whole process of effort; I am not saying that we should reject or sustain effort, augment or decrease it. I am asking whether effort is necessary psychologically, and whether it does not produce the seed of sorrow. When we make an effort, it is obviously with a motive; to achieve, to be, or to become something. Where there is effort there is the action of will, which is essentially desire - one desire opposing another; so there is a contradiction. To overcome this contradiction, we try in various ways to bring about an integration -which again involves effort. So our way of thinking, our whole way of living, is a process of ceaseless effort. Now, this effort, surely, is centred in the 'me', the self, which is concerned with itself and its own activities. And can the mind free itself from this complex, from this bundle of desires, urges, compulsions, without effort, without a motive? I hope I am making myself clear; because this is a very complex problem. I know that my life is a series of desires, it is made up of many wants and frustrations, many hopes, longings and aspirations; there is the cultivation of virtue, the search for moral standing, trying to conform to an ideal, and so on; and through it all there is the urge to be free. All that is the 'me', the self, which is the source of sorrow. Surely, any move I make in order to be free of sorrow, furthers sorrow, because that again involves effort. I think one must understand this fundamentally: that any effort to be or become something, to achieve success, and so on, produces sorrow. By making an effort to get rid of sorrow, I build a resistance against it, and that very resistance is a form of suppression which breeds further sorrow. If I see this, then what am I to do? How is the mind which is caught in sorrow to free itself from sorrow? Can it do anything? Because any action on its part has a motive behind it; and a motive invariably breeds conflict, which again begets sorrow. This is the whole issue. I think I shall be happy if I make a success of my life, have plenty of things, position, power, money. So I struggle. And in the very process of struggling to achieve that which I want, there is conflict, there is pain, there is frustration; so sorrow is set going. Or, if I am not worldly-minded, I turn to so-called spiritual things. There also I try to achieve something, to realize God, truth, and all the rest of it; I cultivate virtue, obey the sanctions of the church, follow yoga or some other system to the end that my mind may be at peace. So again there is a struggle, there is conflict, suppression, resistance - which seems to me utterly futile, without meaning. So what is the mind to do? I know the whole pattern of suffering, and the causes of suffering; I also know the ways of escape, and I see that escaping from suffering is no answer. One may escape momentarily, but suffering is still there, like a lingering poison. So what is the mind to do? How does the mind know anything? When I say "I know the pattern of suffering", what do I mean by that? Is it merely intellectual knowledge, a verbal, rationalized understanding of this whole network of suffering? Or am I aware of it totally, inwardly? Do I know it merely as something which I have learned, which I have been taught, which I have read about and captured through a description? Or am I actually aware of suffering as a process taking place in myself, at every moment of my existence? Which is it? I think this is an important question. How do I know that I suffer? Do I know it merely because I feel frustrated, or because I have lost someone - my son is dead? Or do I know with my whole being that suffering is the nature of all desire, of all becoming? And must I go through the process of every desire in order to find that out? Surely, there must be suffering so long as one does not totally comprehend desire, which includes the action of will and involves contradiction, suppression, resistance, conflict. Whether we desire superficial things, or the deep, fundamental things, conflict is always involved. So, can we find out whether the mind is capable of being free from desire - from the whole psychological process of the desire to be something, to succeed, to become, to find God, to achieve? Can the mind understand all that and be free from it? Otherwise life is a process of continuous conflict, misery. You may find a panacea, a semi-permanent escape; but misery awaits you. You may throw yourself into some activity, take refuge in a belief, find various ways of forgetting yourself; but conflict is still there. So, can the mind understand the process of desire? And is this understanding a matter of effort? Or does understanding come only when the mind sees the whole process of desire - sees it, experiences it, is totally aware of it, and knowing that it cannot do anything about it, becomes silent with regard to that problem? I think this is the fundamental issue - not how to transcend, transform, or control desire, but to know the full significance of desire, and knowing it, to be completely motionless, silent, without any action with regard to it. Because, when the mind is confronted with an enormous problem like desire, any action on its part distorts that problem; any effort to grapple with it makes the problem petty, shallow. Whereas, if the mind can look at this enormous problem of desire without any movement, without any denial, without accepting or rejecting it, then I think we shall find that desire has quite a different significance, and that one can live in this world without contradiction, without struggle, without this everlasting effort to arrive, to achieve. When the mind is thus able to look at the whole process of desire, you will find that it becomes astonishingly capable of experiencing without adding anything to itself. When the mind is no longer contaminated by desire and all the problems connected with it, then the mind itself is reality - not the mind as we know it, but a mind that is completely without the self, without desire. Question: You talked yesterday of mediocrity. I realize my own mediocrity, but how am I to break through it? Krishnamurti: It is the mediocre mind that demands a way to break through or achieve. Therefore when you say "I am mediocre, how am I to break through it?", you do not realize the full significance of mediocrity. The mind that wants to change or improve itself will always remain mediocre, however great its effort. And that is what we all want, is it not? We all want to change from this to that. Being stupid, I want to become clever. The stupid man who is attempting to become clever will always remain stupid. But the man who is aware that he is stupid, and realizes the full significance of stupidity, without wishing to change it - that very realization puts an end to stupidity. So, can the mind look at the fact of what it is without trying to alter it? Can I see that I am arrogant, or stupid, or vain - just realize the fact, and not wish to change it? The desire to change it breeds mediocrity, because then I look to someone to tell me what to do about it; I go to lectures, read books, in order to find out how to change what I am. So I am led away from facing the fact of what I am; and being led away from the fact is the cultivation of mediocrity. Now, can I look at the fact of mediocrity without wishing to break through it? After all, the mind is mediocre - it does not matter whose mind it is. The mind is mediocre, bound by tradition, by the past; and when the mind tries to improve itself, to break through its own limitations, it remains the same mediocre mind, only it is seeking a new sensation, that is, to experience the state of not being mediocre. So the problem is not how to break through mediocrity; for mediocrity is invariably the result of pursuing tradition, whether that tradition has been established by society, or cultivated by oneself. Any effort on the part of the mind to break through mediocrity will be an activity of mediocrity, therefore The result will still be mediocre. This is the real issue. We do not see that the mind, however cultivated, however clever, however erudite, is essentially mediocre, and that however much it may try to break through mediocrity, it is still mediocre. When the mind sees the fact of its own mediocrity, not just the superficial part, but the totality of it, with all that it involves, and does not try to do something about it, then you will find you are no longer concerned with mediocrity, or with attempting to change this into that. Then the very fact itself begins to operate. That is, when the mind is aware of the fact of its own stupidity, mediocrity, and does not operate on that fact, then the fact begins to operate on the mind; and then you will see that the mind has undergone a fundamental change. But so long as the mind wants to change, whatever change it may bring about will be a continuation of that which it has been, only under a different cloak. That is why it is very important to understand the whole process of thinking, and why self-knowledge is essential. But you cannot know yourself if you are merely accumulating knowledge about yourself, for then you know only that which you have accumulated - which is not to know the ways of your own self and its activities from moment to moment. Question: How are we to put an end to man's cruelty towards animals in the form of vivisection, slaughter-houses, and so on? Krishnamurti: I do not think we will put an end to it, because I do not think we know what it means to love. Why are we so concerned about animals? Not that we should not be - we must be. But why this concern about animals only? Are we not cruel to each other? Our whole social structure is based on violence, which erupts every so often into war. If you really loved your children, you would put a stop to war. But you do not love your children, so you sacrifice them to protect your property, to defend the State, or the church, or some other organization which demands of you certain things. As our society, of which we are a part, is based on acquisitive violence, we are invariably cruel to each other. The whole structure of competition, comparison, position, property, inheritance - violence is inherent in all that, and we accept it as inevitable; so we are cruel to each other, as we are cruel to animals. The problem is not how to do away with slaughter-houses and be more kind to animals, but the fact that we have lost the art of love - not sensation, not emotionalism, but the feeling of being really kind, of being really gentle, compassionate. Do we know what it is to be really compassionate - not in order to get to heaven, but compassionate in the sense of not wanting anything for oneself? Surely, that demands quite a different psychological education. We are trained from childhood to compete, to be cruel, to fit into society. So long as we are educated to fit into society, we will invariably be cruel; because society is based on violence. If we loved our children, we would educate them entirely differently, so that there would be no more war, no nationalism, no rich and no poor, and the whole structure of this ugly society would be transformed. But we are not interested in all that, which is a very complex and profound problem. We are only concerned with how to stop some aspect of cruelty. Not that we should not be concerned with stopping cruelty. The point is, we can found or join an organization for stopping cruelty, we can subscribe, write, work for it ceaselessly, we can become the secretary, the president, and all the rest of it; but that which is love will be missing. Whereas, if we can concern ourselves with finding out what it is to love without any attachment, without any demand, without the search for sensation -which is an immense problem - , then perhaps we shall bring about a different relationship between human beings, and with the animals. Question: What is death, and why is there such fear of it? Krishnamurti: I think it would be worthwhile to go into this problem, not merely verbally, but actually. Why do we divide life and death? Is living separate from death? Or is death part of living? It may be that we do not know what living is, and that is why death seems such a terrible thing, something to be shunned, to be avoided, to be explained away. Is not living part of dying? Am I living if I am constantly accumulating property, money, position, as well as knowledge and virtue, all of which I cherish and hold on to? I may call that living, but is it living? Is not that whole process merely a series of struggles, contradictions, miseries, frustrations? But we call it living, and so we want to know what death is. We know that death is the end for all of us; the body, the physical organism, wears out and dies. Seeing this, the mind says "I have lived, I have gathered, I have suffered, and what is to happen to me? What lies for me beyond death?" Not knowing what lies beyond, the mind is afraid of death, so it begins to invent ideas, theories - reincarnation, resurrection - , or it goes back and lives in the past. If it believes in reincarnation, it tries to prove that belief through hypnosis, and so on. That is essentially what we are all doing. Our life is overshadowed by this thing called death, and we want to know if there is any form of continuity. Or else we are so sick of life that we want to die, and we are horrified at the thought that there might be a beyond. Now, what is the answer to all this? Why have we separated death from living, and why does the mind cling to continuity? Cannot the mind be aware of that which it calls death in the same way that it knows living? Can it not be aware of the whole significance of dying? We know what our life is: a process of gathering, enjoying, suffering, renouncing, searching, and constant anxiety. That is our existence, and in that there is a continuity. I know that I am alive because I am aware of suffering, of enjoyment; memory goes on, and my past experiences colour my future experiences. There is a sense of continuity, the momentum of a series of events linked by memory. I know this process, and I call it living. But do I know what death is? Can I ever know it? We are not asking what lies beyond, which is really not very important. But can one know or experience the meaning of that which is called death, while actually living? While I am conscious, physically vigorous, while my mind is clear and capable of thinking without any sentimentality or emotionalism, can I directly experience that thing which I call death? I know what living is; and can I, in the same way, with the same vigour, the same potency, know the meaning of death? If I merely die at the last moment, through disease, or through some accident, I shall not know. So the problem is not what lies beyond death, or how to avoid the fear of death. You cannot avoid the fear of death so long as the mind accumulates for itself a series of events and experiences linked by memory, because the ending of all that is what we actually fear. Surely, that which has continuity is never creative. Only the mind which dies to everything from moment to moment really knows what it is to die. This is not emotionalism; it requires a great deal of insight, thought, inquiry. We can know death, as well as life, while living; while living we can enter the house of death, the unknown. But for the mind, which is the result of the known, to enter the unknown, there must be a cessation of all that it has known, of all the things it has gathered - not only consciously, but much more profoundly, in the unconscious. To wipe all that away is to die; and then we shall find there is no fear. I am not offering this as a panacea for fear; but can we know and understand the full meaning of death? That is, can the mind be completely nothing, with no residue of the past? Whether that is possible or not is something we can inquire into, search out diligently, vigorously, work hard to find out. But if the mind merely clings to what it calls living - which is suffering, this whole process of accumulation - and tries to avoid the other, then it knows neither life nor death. So the problem is to free the mind from the known, from all the things it has gathered, acquired, experienced, so that it is made innocent and can therefore understand that which is death, the unknowable. June 24, 1956 BRUSSELS, BELGIUM 6TH PUBLIC TALK 25TH JUNE 1956 I think it would be a waste of time and energy if we regarded these talks merely as an intellectual stimulation, or as an entertainment of new ideas. It would be like ploughing a field everlastingly, without ever sowing. For those who are eager to find something much more significant than the weary routine of daily existence, who want to understand the greater significance of a life, it seems very difficult not to get sidetracked in their search; because there are so many things in which the mind can lose itself - in work, in politics, in social activity, in the acquisition of the knowledge, or in various associations and organizations. These things apparently give a great deal of satisfaction; and when we are satisfied, our lives invariably become very superficial. But there are some, I think, who are really serious, and who do not wish to be distracted from the central issue. They want to go to the very end of their search and discover for themselves if there is something more vital than mere reason and the logical explanation of things. Such people are not easily sidetracked. They have a certain spontaneous virtue, which is not the emptiness of cultivated virtue; they have a certain quietness, gentleness, and a sense of proportion; they lead a sane, balanced life, and do not accept the extremes. But unfortunately even they seem to find it very difficult to go beyond the everyday struggles, and the understanding of them, and discover for themselves if there is something really deeply significant. Those of us who have thought about these things at all, and who are alert both to the recurrent problems in our personal lives, and to the crises that periodically come upon society, must be aware that the merely virtuous or good life is not enough, and that unless we can go beyond and discover something of greater significance - a wider vision, more fullness of life - then, however noble our efforts and endeavour, we shall always remain in this state of turmoil and ceaseless strife. The good life is obviously necessary; but surely that by itself is not religion. And is it possible to go beyond all that? Some of us, I think, have seen the stupidity of dogmas, of beliefs, of organized religions, and have set them aside. We fully realize the importance of the good life, the balanced, sane, unexaggerated life - being content with little, being kindly, generous; yet somehow we do not seem to discover that vital something which brings about the truly religious life. One may be virtuous, very active in doing good, satisfied with little, unconcerned about oneself; but surely the truly religious life must mean something much more. Any respectable person, any good citizen, is all those things in one degree or another; but that is not religion. Belonging to a church, going to Sunday gatherings, reading an occasional book on religious matters, worshipping a symbol, dedicating one's life to a particular idea or ideal - surely, none of that is religion. Those are all man-made things; they are within the limits of time, of culture and civilization. And yet even those of us who have dropped all such things seem unable to go beyond. What is the difficulty? Is it the gift of the few to go beyond? Can only a few understand, or realize, or experience reality - which means that the many must depend on the few for help, for guidance? I think such an idea is utterly false. In this whole idea that only a few can realize, and the rest must follow, lie many forms of thoughtlessness, exploitation and cruelty. If once we accept it, our lives become very shallow, meaningless, trivial. And most of us accept that idea very easily, do we not? We think that only the few can understand, or that there is only one son of God, and the rest of us are just - whatever we are. We accept such an idea because in ourselves we are very lazy; or perhaps we do not have the capacity to penetrate. It may be mostly our lack of this capacity to penetrate, to go to the root of things, that is preventing deep understanding, this extraordinary sense of unity -which is not identification with the idea of unity. Most of us identify ourselves with something - with the family, with the country, with an idea, with a belief - hoping thereby to forget our petty little selves. But I am afraid that is no solution. The greater does contain the lesser; but when the lesser tries to identify itself with the greater, it is merely a pose and has no value. So, is it possible for each one of us to have this capacity to go beyond routine virtue, goodness, sensitivity, compassion? These are essential in daily life; but can we not awaken the capacity to penetrate beyond them, beyond all the conscious movements of the mind, beyond all inclinations, hopes, aspirations, desires, so that the mind is no longer an instrument which creates and destroys, which is caught in its own projections, in its own ideas? If we can sanely and diligently find out for ourselves how this capacity comes into being, without trying to cultivate it or wishing for it to happen, then I think we shall know what it is to lead a religious life. But this demands an extraordinary revolution in our thinking - which is the only real revolution. Any merely economic or social revolution only breeds the need of further reform, and that is an endless process. Real revolution is inward, and it comes into being without the mind seeking it. What the mind seeks and finds, however reasonable, however rational and intelligent, is never the final answer. For the mind is put together, and what it creates is also put together; therefore it can be undone. But the revolution of which I am speaking is the truly religious life, stripped of all the absurdities of organized religions throughout the world. It has nothing to do with priests, with symbols, with churches. How is this revolution to take place? As we do not know, we say that we must have faith, or that grace must descend upon us. This may be so: grace may come. But the faith that is cultivated is only another creation of the mind, and therefore it can be destroyed. Whether there is grace or not, is not our concern; a mind that seeks grace will never find it. So, if you have thought at all about these matters, if you have meditated upon life, then you must have asked yourself whether this inward revolution can take place, and whether it is dependent upon a capacity that can be cultivated, as one cultivates the capacity for accountancy, or engineering, or chemistry. Those are cultivable capacities; they can be built up, and will produce certain results. But I am talking of a capacity which is not cultivable, something that you cannot go after, that you cannot pursue or search out in the dark places of the mind. And without that something, virtue becomes mere respectability - which is a terrible thing; without that something, all activity is contradictory, leading to further conflict and misery. Now, being aware of our own ceaseless struggling within the field of self-conscious activity, our self-concern - taking all this multifarious action and contradiction into account, how are we to come to that other state? How is one to live in that moment which is eternity? All this is not mere sentiment or romanticism. Religion has nothing whatever to do with romanticism or sentimentality. it is a very hard thing - hard in the sense that one must work furiously to find out what is truly religious. Perceiving all the contradiction and confusion that exists in the outward structure of society, and the psychological conflict that is perpetually going on within oneself, one realizes that all our endeavour to be loving or brotherly is actually a pose, a mask. However beautiful the mask may be, behind it there is nothing; so we develop a philosophy of cynicism or despair, or we cling to a belief in something mysterious beyond this ceaseless turmoil. Again, this is obviously not religion; and without the perfume of true religion, life has very little meaning. That is why we are everlastingly struggling to find something. We pursue the many gurus and teachers, haunt the various churches, practise this or that system of meditation, rejecting one and accepting another. And yet we never seem to cross the threshold; the mind seems incapable of going beyond itself. So, what is it, I wonder, that brings the other into being? Or is it that we cannot do anything but go up to the threshold and remain there, not knowing what lies beyond? It may be that we have to come to the very edge of the precipice of everything we have known, so that there is the cessation of all endeavour, of all cultivation of virtue, and the mind is no longer seeking anything. I think that is all the conscious mind can do. Whatever else it does only creates another pattern, another habit. Must not the mind strip itself of all the things it has gathered, all its accumulations of experience and knowledge, so that it is in a state of innocency which is not cultivated? Perhaps that is our difficulty. We hear that we must be innocent in order to find out; so we cultivate innocence. But can innocence ever be cultivated? Is it not like the cultivation of humility? Surely, a man who cultivates humility is never humble, any more than the man who practises non-violence ceases to be violent. So it may be that one must see the truth of this: that the mind which is put together, which is made up of many things, cannot do anything. To see this truth may be all that it can do. Probably there must be the capacity to see the truth in a flash - and I think that very perception will cleanse the mind of all the past in an instant. The more serious, the more earnest we are, the greater danger there is of our trying to become or achieve something. Surely, only the man who is spontaneously humble, who has immense unconscious humility - only such a man is capable of understanding from moment to moment and never accumulating what he has learned. So this great humility of not-knowing is essential, is it not? But you see, we are all seeking success, we want a result. We say "I have done all these things, and I have got nowhere, I have received nothing; I am still the same". This despairing sense of desiring success, of wanting to arrive, to attain, to understand, emphasizes, does it not?, the separativity of the mind; there is always the conscious or unconscious endeavour to achieve a result, and therefore the mind is never empty, never free for a second from the movement of the past, of time. So I think what is important is not to read more, discuss more, or to attend more talks, but rather to be conscious of the motives, the intentions, the deceptions of one's own mind - to be simply aware of all that, and leave it alone, not try to change it, not try to become something else; because the effort to become something else is like putting on another mask. That is why the danger is much greater for those of us who are earnest and deeply serious than it is for the flippant and the casual. Our very seriousness may prevent the understanding of things as they are. It seems to me that what each one of us has to do is to capture the significance of the totality of our thinking. But much concern over detail, over the many conflicting thoughts and feelings, will not bring about an understanding of the whole. What is required is the sudden perception of the totality of the mind - which is not the outcome of asking how to see it, but of constantly looking, inquiring, searching. Then, I think, we shall find out for ourselves what is the truly religious life. Question: What are your ideas about education? Krishnamurti: I think mere ideas are no good at all, because one idea is as good as another, depending on whether the mind accepts or rejects it. But perhaps it would be worth while to find out what we mean by education. Let us see if we can think out together the whole significance of education, and not merely think in terms of my idea, or your idea, or the idea of some specialist. Why do we educate our children at all? Is it to help the child to understand the whole significance of life, or merely to prepare him to earn a livelihood in a particular culture or society? Which is it that we want? Not what we should want, or what is desirable, but what is it that we as parents actually insist on? We want the child to conform, to be a respectable citizen in a corrupt society, in a society that is at war both within itself and with other societies, that is brutal, acquisitive, violent, greedy, with occasional spots of affection, tolerance and kindliness. That is what we actually want, is it not? If the child does not fit into society - whether it be communist, socialist, or capitalist - , we are afraid of what will happen to him; so we begin to educate him to conform to the pattern of our own making. That is all we want where the child is concerned, and that is essentially what is taking place. And any revolt of the child against society, against the pattern of conformity, we call delinquency. We want the children to conform; we want to control their minds, to shape their conduct, their way of living, so that they will fit into the pattern of society. That is what every parent wants, is it not? And that is exactly what is happening, whether it be in America or in Europe, in Russia or in India. The pattern may vary slightly, but they all want the child to conform. Now, is that education? Or does education mean that the parents and the teachers themselves see the significance of the whole pattern, and are helping the child from the very beginning to be alert to all its influences? Seeing the full significance of the pattern, with its religious, social and economic influences, its influences of class, of family, of tradition - seeing the significance of all this for oneself and helping the child to understand and not be caught in it -that may be education. To educate the child may be to help him to be outside of society, so that he creates his own society. Since our society is not at all what it should be, why encourage the child to stay within its pattern? At present we force the child to conform to a social pattern which we have established individually, as a family, and as the collective; and he unfortunately inherits, not only our property, but some of our psychological characteristics as well. So from the very beginning he is a slave to the environment. Seeing all this, if we really love our children and are therefore deeply concerned about education, we will contrive from the very beginning to bring about an atmosphere which will encourage them to be free. A few real educators have thought about all this, but unfortunately very few parents ever think about it at all. We leave it to the experts - religion to the priest, psychology to the psychologist, and our children to the so-called teachers. Surely, the parent is also the educator; he is the teacher, and also the one who learns - not only the child. So this is a very complex problem, and if we really wish to resolve it we must go into it most profoundly; and then, I think, we shall find out how to bring about the right kind of education. Question: What is the meaning of existence? What is it all about? Krishnamurti: This is a question that is constantly arising all over the world: what is the purpose of life? We are now asking it of ourselves; and I wonder why we ask it? Is it because life has very little significance for us, and we ask this question in the hope of being assured that it has a greater significance? Is it that we are so confused in ourselves that we do not know how to find the answer, which way to turn? I think that is most likely. Being confused in ourselves, we look, we ask; and in asking, in looking, we invent theories, we give a purpose or a meaning of life. So what is important is not to define the purpose, the significance, the meaning of existence, but rather to find out why the mind asks this question. If we see something very clearly, we do not have to ask about it; so probably we are confused. We have been in the habit of accepting the things imposed upon us by authority; we have always followed authority without much thought, except the thoughts which authority encourage. Now, however, we have begun to reject authority, because we want to find things out for ourselves; and in trying to find things out for ourselves, we become very confused. That is why we again ask "What is the purpose of life?" If someone tells you what is the purpose of life, and their answer is satisfactory, you may accept it as your authority and guide your life accordingly; but fundamentally you will still be confused. The question, then, is not what the purpose of life is, but whether the mind can clear itself of its own confusion. If it can and does, then you will never ask that other question. But the difficulty for most of us is to realize that we are thoroughly confused. We think we are only superficially confused, and that there is a higher part of the mind which is not contaminated by confusion. To realize that the totality of the mind is confused, is very difficult, because most of us have been educated to believe that there is a higher part of the mind which can direct, shape, and guide us; but surely this again is an invention of the mind. To free oneself from confusion, one must first know that one is confused. To see that one is really confused is the beginning of clarification, is it not? But it requires deep perception and great honesty to see and to acknowledge to oneself that one is totally confused. When one knows that one is totally confused, one will not seek clarification, because any action on the part of a confused mind to find clarification will only add to the confusion. That is fairly obvious, is it not? If I am confused, I may read, or look, or ask; but my search, my asking is the outcome of my confusion, and therefore it can only lead to further confusion. Whereas, the mind that is confused and really knows it is confused, will have no movement of search, of asking; and in that very moment of being silently aware of its confusion, there is a beginning of clarification. If you are really following this, you are bound to see the truth of it psychologically. But the difficulty is that we do not really know, we are not actually aware of how extraordinarily confused we are. The moment one fully realizes one's own confusion, one's thought becomes very tentative, hesitant, it is never assertive or dogmatic. Therefore the mind begins to inquire from a totally different point of view; and it is this new kind of inquiry alone that will clear up the confusion. Question: Do you believe in God? Krishnamurti: It is easy to ask: questions, and it is very important to know how to ask a right question. In this particular question, the words `believe' and `God' seem to me so contradictory. A man who merely believes in God will never know what God is, because his belief is a form of conditioning - which again is very obvious. In Christianity you are taught from childhood to believe in God, so from the very beginning your mind is conditioned. In the Communist countries, belief in God is called sheer nonsense - at which you are horrified. You want to convert them, and they want to convert you. They have conditioned their minds not to believe, and you call them godless, while you consider yourself God-fearing, or whatever it is. I do not see much difference between the two. You may go to church, pray, listen to sermons, or perform certain rituals and get some kind of stimulation out of it - but none of that, surely, is the experiencing of the unknown. And can the mind experience the unknown, whatever name one may give it. The name does not matter. That is the question - not whether one believes or does not believe in God. One can see that any form of conditioning will never set the mind free; and that only the free mind can discover, experience. Experiencing is a very strange thing. The moment you know you are experiencing, there is the cessation of that experience. The moment I know I am happy, I am no longer happy. To experience this immeasurable reality, the experiencer must come to an end. The experiencer is the result of the known, of many centuries of cultivated memory; he is an accumulation of the things he has experienced. So when he says "I must experience reality", and is cognizant of that experience, then what he experiences is not reality, but a projection of his own past, his own conditioning. That is why it is very important to understand that the thinker and the thought, or the experiencer and the experience, are the same; they are not different. When there is an experiencer separate from the experience, then the experiencer is constantly pursuing further experience; but that experience is always a projection of himself. So reality, the timeless state, is not to be found through mere verbalization, or acceptance, or through the repetition of what one has heard - which is all folly. To really find out, one must go into this whole question of the experiencer. So long as there is the `me' who wants to experience, there can be no experiencing of reality. That is why the experiencer - the entity who is seeking God, who believes in God, who prays to God - must totally cease. Only then can that immeasurable reality come into being. June 25, 1956 HAMBURG, GERMANY 1ST PUBLIC TALK 5TH SEPTEMBER 1956 I think it is important to establish a right relationship between yourself and myself; because you may be under the erroneous impression that I am going to talk about a complicated philosophy, or that I am bringing a particular system of philosophical thought from India, or that I have peculiar ideas which I want you to accept. So I think we should begin by establishing a relationship between us in which there is mutual understanding of each other. I am not speaking as an Indian, nor do I believe that any particular philosophy or religion is going to solve our human problems. No human problem can be understood or resolved through a special way of thinking, or through any dogma or belief. Though I happen to come from India, we have essentially the same problems there as you have here. We are human beings, not Germans or Hindus, English or Russians; we are human beings, living in a very complex society, with innumerable problems -economic, social, and above all, I think, religious. If we can understand the religious problem, then perhaps we shall be able to solve the contradictory national, economic and social problems. To understand the complex problem of religion, I think it is essential not to hold on to any particular idea or belief, but to listen with a mind that is not prejudiced, so that we are capable of thinking out the problem together. Surely we must approach all our human problems with a very simple, direct clarity and understanding. Our minds have been conditioned from childhood to think in a certain way; we are educated, brought up in a fixed pattern of thought. We are tradition-bound. We have special values, certain opinions and unquestioned beliefs, and according to this pattern we live - or at least we try to live. And I think there lies the calamity. Because, life is in constant movement, is it not? It is a living thing, with extraordinary changes; it is never the same. And our problems also are never the same, they are ever changing. But we approach life with a mind that is fixed, opinionated; we have definite ideas and predetermined evaluations. So, for most of us, life becomes a series of complex and apparently insoluble problems, and invariably we turn to someone else to guide us, to help us, to show us the right path. Here, I think, it would be right for me to point out that I am not doing anything of that kind. What we are going to do, if you are willing, is to think out the problem together. After all, it is your life, and to understand it, surely, you must understand yourself. The understanding of yourself does not depend on the sanctions of another. So it seems to me that if we are at all serious, and if we would understand the many problems that exist in the world at the present time, the nationalism, the wars, the hatred, the racial divisions, and the divisions which the organized religions bring about - if we would understand all this and eliminate the conflict between man and man, it is imperative that we should first understand ourselves. Because, what we are, we project - which is a very simple fact. If I am nationalistic, I help to create a separative society - which is one of the seeds, the causes of war. So it is obviously essential that we understand ourselves; and this, it seems to me, is the major issue in our life. Religion is not to be found in a set of dogmas, beliefs, rituals; I think it is something much greater and far beyond all that. Therefore it is imperative to understand why the mind clings to any particular religion or belief, to any particular dogma. It is only when we understand and free the mind from these beliefs, dogmas, and fears, that there is a possibility of finding out if there is a reality, if there is God. But merely to believe, to follow, seems to me an utter folly. So, if we are to understand each other, I think it is necessary for you to realize that I am not speaking to you as a group, as a number of Germans, but to each one as an individual human being. Because, the individual problem is the world problem. It is what we are as individuals that creates society - society being the relationship between ourselves and others. I am speaking - and please believe it - as one individual to another, so that together we may understand the many problems that confront us. I am not establishing myself as an authority to tell you what to do; because I do not believe in authority in spiritual matters. All authority is evil; and all sense of authority must cease, especially if we would find out what is God, what is truth, whether there is something beyond the mere measure of the mind. That is why it is very important for the individual to understand himself. I know the inevitable question will arise: if we have no authority of any kind, will there not be anarchy? Of course there may be. But does authority create order? Or does it merely create a blind following which has no meaning at all except that it leads to destruction, to misery? But if we begin to understand ourselves - which is a very complex process - , then we shall also begin to understand the anatomy of authority. Then I think we shall be able to find out, as individuals, what is true. Without the compulsion of society, without the authority of a religion or of any person, however great, without the influence of another, we shall be able to discover and experience for ourselves something beyond mere intellection, beyond the clever assertions of the mind. So, I hope this much is very clear between us: that I am not speaking as an Indian, with a particular philosophy, nor am I here to convince you of anything. I am asking, as one individual to another, whether it is possible to find out what is true, what is God if there is God. It seems to me that one must begin by understanding oneself. And to understand yourself, surely, you must first know what you actually are, not what you think you should be - which is an ideological fallacy. After all, if I want to know myself, I must see myself exactly as I am, not as I think I ought to be. The `ought to be' is a form of illusion, an escape from what I am. So, what we are concerned with - as individuals, not as a group is to find out what is beyond the beliefs and theories, beyond the sentimental hopes and intellectual assertions of the various organized religions. We are trying to experience directly for ourselves if there is such a thing as reality, something more than the mere projections of the mind - which is what most religions are, however pleasant, however comforting. Can the mind find out, experience directly? Because direct experience alone has validity. Can you and I as individuals, by going into this question now, discover or experience something which is immeasurable? Because such an experience - if it is valid, if it is not just an illusion, a vision, a passing fantasy - has an extraordinary significance in life. Such an experience transforms one's life and brings about a morality which is not mere social respectability. So, is it possible for you who are listening to me to experience that which is immeasurable? just to say "Yes" or "no" would be an absurdity. All that we can do is to find out if the mind is capable of experiencing something which is not a projection of its own demands. Which means, really, can you, the individual, free yourself from all your conditioning? Can you cease completely to be the Christian who believes, who has certain formulas, certain ideals? After all, each one is brought up in a particular tradition, and his God is the God of that tradition. Surely, that is not reality; it is merely a repetition of what he has been told. To find out if there is a reality, one must free oneself from the tradition in which one has been brought up - and that is an extraordinarily difficult thing to do. But only then is it possible to go beyond the mere measure of the mind and experience something which is immeasurable. If we do not experience that, life is very empty, trivial, lonely, without much meaning. So, how is one, being serious and earnest, to set about it? Because without the fragrance, without the perfume of that reality, life is very shallow, materialistic, miserable; there is constant tension, striving, ceaseless pain and suffering. So a serious person must surely ask himself this question: is it possible to experience something which is not a mere wish or intellectual concept from which one derives a certain satisfaction, but something entirely new, beyond the fabrications of the mind? And if it is possible, then what is one to do? How is one to set about it? I think there is only one approach to this problem, which is to see that until I know myself, until I know the whole content of the mind, the unconscious as well as the conscious, with all its intricate workings - until I am cognizant of all that, fully aware of it, I cannot possibly go beyond. Can I know myself in this way? Can I know myself as a whole - all the motives, the urges, the compulsions, the fears - and not just a few reactions and responses of the conscious mind? And can anyone help me, or must this be done entirely by myself? Because if I look to another for help, I become dependent, which means that the other becomes my authority; and when I only know myself through the authority of another, I do not know myself at all. And merely reading psychological books is of very little importance; because I can only know myself as I am by observing my living from day to day, watching myself in the mirror of my relationship with another. To watch myself in that mirror is not to be merely introspective, or objective, but to be constantly alert, watchful of what is taking place in the mind, in myself. You will find that it is extraordinarily difficult to watch yourself in the mirror of relationship without any sense of condemning what you see; and if you condemn what you see, you do not understand it. To understand a thing as it is, condemnation, judgment, evaluation, must go - which is extremely difficult, because at present we are trained, educated to condemn, to reject, to approve, to deny. And that is only the beginning of it, a very shallow beginning. But one must go through that, one must understand the whole process of the mind, not merely intellectually, verbally, but as one lives from day to day, watching oneself in this mirror of relationship. One must actually experience what is taking place in the mind - examine it, be aware of the whole content of it, without denying suppressing, or putting it away. Then, if you go so far, and if you are at all serious, you will find that the mind is no longer projecting any image, no longer creating any myth, any illusion; it is beginning to understand the totality of itself, and therefore it becomes very clear, simple, quiet. This is not a momentary process, but a continual living, a continual sharpening of the mind. And in the very process of sharpening, the mind spontaneously ceases to be as it is. Then the mind is no longer creating images, visions, fallacies, illusions; and only then, when the mind is completely still, silent, is there a possibility of experiencing something which is not of the mind itself. But this requires, not just one day of effort, or a casual observation, or attending one talk, but a slow maturity, a deepening search, a greater, wider, totally integrated outlook, so that the mind - which is now driven by many influences and demands, inhibited by so many fears - is free to inquire, to experience. Only such a mind is truly religious - not the mind that believes or disbelieves in God, that has innumerable beliefs, that joins, agrees, follows, or denies; such a mind can never find out what is truth. That is why it is very important for those who are serious, for those who are concerned with the welfare of mankind, to put aside all their vain beliefs and theories, all their associations with particular religious organizations, and inquire very deeply within themselves. For after all, religion is not dogma, it has nothing to do with belief; religion does not mean going to church, or performing certain rituals. None of that is religion; it is merely the invention of man to control man. And if one would find out whether there is a reality, something beyond the inventions of the mind, one must put aside all these absurdities, this childish thinking. It is very difficult for most people to put it all aside, because in clinging to beliefs they feel secure, it gives them some hope. But to discover reality, to experience something beyond the mind, the mind must cease to have any form of security. It must be totally denuded of all refuges. It is only such a mind that is purified, and then it is possible for the mind to experience something which is beyond itself. I have been given some questions, and I shall try to answer some of them - or rather, together we shall try to unravel the problem. There is no one answer to a problem, there is no isolated solution. If we merely look for a solution to a problem, we shall find that our search for the solution creates other problems. Whereas, if we are capable of examining the problem itself, without trying to find an answer, we shall discover that the answer is in the problem. So it is very important to know how to approach the problem. The mind which has a problem, and seeks an answer, cannot possibly inquire into the problem itself, because it is concerned only with the solution. To understand any problem, you must give your whole attention to it; and you cannot give your whole attention to it if you are seeking a solution, an answer. Question: We are full of memories of the last war, with all its terror. Can we ever free our minds of the past and start anew? Krishnamurti: The problem of memory is very complex, is it not? We have pleasant memories, and unpleasant memories. We want to reject the unpleasant, the terrible, the painful memories, and keep the pleasant ones. That is what we are always trying to do, is it not? The pleasant memories of our youth, the interesting things we have read, the stimulating experiences we have had - all this has significance for us, and we want to hold on to it;but the things which are painful, sorrowful, unpleasant, irritating, we eject. So we divide our memories into the pleasant and the unpleasant, and what we are mostly concerned with is how to put away the unpleasant memories, and keep alive those that are pleasant. But so long as we divide memory into the pleasant and the unpleasant, and try to get rid of the unpleasant, there will always be conflict, both within and without. I do not know if I am making myself clear. The mind is full of memories, it is made up of memories. You have no mind without memory - the memories of your past, of all the things you have learnt, experienced, lived, suffered. Mind is memory, conscious or unconscious. In memory there is the pleasant and the unpleasant, and we want to reject the unpleasant; we want to keep the desirable, and get rid of the undesirable, so there is always a conflict going on. What we have to understand is not how to retain the pleasant and be free of the terrible memories, but rather how to eliminate the desire to keep some memories and reject others, which creates conflict. What is important is to be aware of this conflict, and to understand why it is that the mind gathers memories and holds on to them. Obviously one needs certain memories in order to live in this world. I must remember how to get back to the place where I live, and so on. But such memories are no problem to us. For most of us the problem is how to get rid of the memories which are painful, destructive, while retaining those which are significant, purposeful, enjoyable. But why does the mind cling to the one and seek to reject the other? Please follow this. If you do not hold fast to the pleasant memorize, what are you? If you had no memories of the pleasant, of the hopeful, of the enjoyable, of the things that you have lived for, you would feel non-human, you would feel lost, a nobody. The mind clings to its pleasant memories, because without them it would be lonely, in despair. So I do not think the problem is how to get rid of the unpleasant memories, the terrors of the past. That is fairly easy. If you deliberately set about to wipe out the past, it can be done comparatively simply. But what is much more complex, what demands much deeper thought and inquiry, is to go into the whole problem of memory - not only the conscious memories, but the deep, underlying memories which guide our lives. After all, a memory much deeper than the memory of the war, and all the bestiality of it, is that which makes you call yourself a German, or a Christian, or a Hindu; that also is part of memory, is it not? And that gives you solidarity, it gives you companionship, it makes you feel equal or superior to others, it gives you a sense of courage, and so many other things. But must you not also be free of that memory? Must one not be free to inquire, to go much further than the mere reaction to memories, which is a process of living on the past? You see, memory does not yield the newness of life. Memory is only the past, and anything born of memory is always old, never new. To discover something totally new, the mind must be astonishingly quiet, still, not active, not desiring and reacting to memories. Question: We have had enough of war. We want peace. How can we prevent a new war? Krishnamurti: I do not think there is a simple answer, because the causes of war are many. So long as there is nationalism, so long as you are a German, or a Russian, or an American, clinging to sovereignty, to an exclusive nationality, you are sure to have war. So long as you are a Christian and I am a Hindu, or you are a Moslem and I am a Buddhist, there is bound to be war. So long as you are ambitious, wanting to reach the top of your society, seeking achievement and worshipping success, you will be a cause of war. But we are brought up on all this. We are trained to compete, to succeed, to be ambitious, to serve a particular government, to belong to a particular country or religion. Our whole education cultivates the competitive spirit and guides the mind towards war. And can we, as individual human beings, change all this? Can you and I individually cease to be ambitious, cease to regard ourselves as Germans or Indians, cease to belong to any particular religion, to any particular group or ideology - Communist, socialist, or any other - , and be concerned only with human welfare? So long as we remain attached to a group or to an ideology, so long as we are ambitious, seeking success, we are bound to create war. It may not be a war of outward destruction; but we will have conflict between each other and within ourselves, which is actually a form of war. I do not think we see this; and even if we do, we are not serious about it. We want some miraculous event to take place to stop war, while we continue to live as we are in the present social structure, making money, seeking position, power, prestige, trying to become famous, and all the rest of it. That is our pattern; and so long as that pattern exists in our minds and hearts, we are bound to produce war. After all, war is merely the catastrophic effect of our daily living; and so long as we do not change our daily living, no amount of legislation, controls and sanctions will prevent war. Is peace in the mind and heart, in the way of our life, or is it merely a governmental regulation, something to be decided in the United Nations? I am afraid that for most of us peace is only a matter of legislation, and we are not concerned with peace in our own minds and hearts; therefore there can be no peace in the world. You cannot have peace, inward or outward, so long as you are ambitious, competitive, so long as you regard yourself as a German, a Hindu, a Russian, or an Englishman, so long as you are striving to become somebody in this mad world. Peace comes only when you understand all this, and are no longer pursuing success in a society which is already corrupt. Only the peaceful mind, the mind that understands itself, can bring peace in the world. September 5, 1956 HAMBURG, GERMANY 2ND PUBLIC TALK 6TH SEPTEMBER 1956 I think, it is important, in listening to each other, to find out for oneself if what is being said is true; that is, to experience it directly, and not merely argue about whether what is said is true or false, which would be completely useless. And perhaps this evening we can find out if it is possible to set about the very complex process of forgetting oneself. Many of us m have experienced, at one time or another, that state when the `me', the self, with its aggressive demands, has completely ceased, and the mind is extraordinarily quiet, without any direct volition - that state wherein, perhaps, one may experience something that is without measure, something that it is impossible to put into words. There must have been these rare moments when the self, the `me', with all its memories and travails, with all its anxieties and fears, has completely ceased. One is then a being without any motive, without any compulsion; and in that state one feels or is aware of an astonishing sense of immeasurable distance, of limitless space and being. This must have happened to many of us. And I think it would be worth while if we could go into this question together and see whether it is possible to resolve the enclosing, limiting self, this restricting `me' that worries, that has anxieties, fears, that is dominating and dominated, that has innumerable memories, that is cultivating virtue and trying in every way to become something, to be important. I do not know if you have noticed the constant effort that one is consciously or unconsciously making to express oneself, to be something, either socially, morally, or economically. This entails, does it not?, a great deal of striving; our whole life is based on the everlasting struggle to arrive, to achieve, to become. The more we struggle, the more significant and exaggerated the self becomes, with all its limitations, fears, ambitions, frustrations; and there must have been times when each one has asked himself whether it is not possible to be totally without the self. After all, we do have rare moments when the sense of the self is not. I am not talking of the transmutation of the self to a higher level, but of the simple cessation of the `me' with its anxieties, worries, fears - the absence of the self. One realizes that such a thing is possible, and then one sets about deliberately, consciously, to eliminate the self. After all, that is what organized religions try to do - to help each worshipper, each believer, to lose himself in something greater, and thereby perhaps to experience some higher state. If you are not a so-called religious person, then you identify yourself with the State, with the country, and try to lose yourself in that identification, which gives you the feeling of greatness, of being something much larger than the petty little self, and all the rest of it. Or, if we do not do that, we try to lose ourselves in social work of some kind, again with the same intention. We think that if we can forget ourselves, deny ourselves, put ourselves out of the way by dedicating our lives to something much greater and more vital than ourselves, we shall perhaps experience a bliss, a happiness, which is not merely a physical sensation. And if we do none of these things, we hope to stop thinking about ourselves through the cultivation of virtue, through discipline, through control, through constant practice. Now, I do not know if you have thought about it, but all this implies, surely, a ceaseless effort to be or become something. And perhaps, in listening to what is being said, we can together go into this whole process and discover for ourselves whether it is possible to wipe away the sense of the `me' without this fearful, restricting discipline, without this enormous effort to deny ourselves, this constant struggle to renounce our wants, our ambitions, in order to be something or to achieve some reality. I think in this lies the real issue. Because all effort implies motive, does it not? I make an effort to forget myself in something, in some ritual or ideology, because in thinking about myself I am unhappy. When I think about something else, I am more relaxed, my mind is quieter, I seem to feel better, I look at things differently. So I make an effort to forget myself. But behind my effort there is a motive, which is to escape from myself because I suffer; and that motive is essentially a part of the self. When I renounce this world and become a monk, or a very devout religious person, the motive is that I want to achieve something better; but that is still the process of the self, is it not? I may give up my name and just be a number in a religious order; but the motive is still there. Now, is it possible to forget oneself without any motive? Because, we can see very well that any motive has within it the seed of the self, with its anxiety, ambition, frustration, its fear of not being, and the immense urge to be secure. And can all that fall away easily, without any effort? Which means, really, can you and I, as individuals, live in this world without being identified with anything? After all, I identify myself with my country, with my religion, with my family, with my name, because without identification I am nothing. Without a position, without power, without prestige of one kind or another, I feel lost; and so I identify myself with my name, with my family, with my religion, I join some organization or become a monk - we all know the various types of identification that the mind clings to. But can we live in this world without any identification at all? If we can think about this, if we can listen to what is being said, and at the same time be aware of our own intimations regarding the implications of identification, then I think we shall discover, if we are at all serious, that it is possible to live in this world without the nightmare of identification and the ceaseless struggle to achieve a result. Then, I think, knowledge has quite a different significance. At present we identify ourselves with our knowledge and use it as a means of self-expansion, just as we do with the nation, with a religion, or with some activity. Identification with the knowledge we have gained is another way of furthering the self, is it not? Through knowledge the `me' continues its struggle to be something, and thereby perpetuates misery, pain. If we can very humbly and simply see the implications of all this, be aware, without assuming anything, of how our minds operate and what our thinking is based on, then I think we shall realize the extraordinary contradiction that exists in this whole process of identification. After all, it is because I feel empty, lonely, miserable, that I identify myself with my country, and this identification gives me a sense of well-being, a feeling of power. Or, for the same reason, I identify myself with a hero, with a saint. But if I can go into this process of identification very deeply, then I will see that the whole movement of my thinking and all my activity, however noble, is essentially based on the continuance of myself in one form or another. Now, if I once see that, if I realize it, feel it with my whole being, then religion has quite a different meaning. Then religion is no longer a process of identifying myself with God, but rather the coming into being of a state in which there is only that reality, and not the 'me'. But this cannot be a mere verbal assertion, it is not just a phrase to be repeated. That is why it is very important, it seems to me, to have self-knowledge, which means going very deeply into oneself without assuming anything, so that the mind has no deceptions, no illusions, so that it does not trick itself into visions and false states. Then, perhaps, it is possible for the enclosing process of the self to come to an end - but not through any form of compulsion or discipline; because the more you discipline the self, the stronger the self becomes. What is important is to go into all this very deeply and patiently, without taking anything for granted, so that one begins to understand the ways, the purposes, the motives and directions of the mind. Then, I think, the mind comes to a state in which there is no identification at all, and therefore no effort to be something; then there is the cessation of the self, and I think that is the real. Although we may swiftly, fleetingly experience this state, the difficulty for most of us is that the mind clings to the experience and wants more of it; and the very wanting of more is again the beginning of the self. That is why it is very important, for those of us who are really serious in these matters, to be inwardly aware of the process of our own thinking, to silently observe our motives, our emotional reactions, and not merely say "I know myself very well" - for actually one does not. You may know your reactions and motives superficially, at the conscious level. But the self, the 'me', is a very complex affair, and to go into the totality of the self needs persistent and continuous inquiry without a motive, without an end in view; and such inquiry is surely a form of meditation. That immense reality cannot be found through any organization, through any church, through any book, through any person or teacher. One has to find it for oneself - which means that one has to be completely alone, uninfluenced. But we are all of us the result of so many influences, so many pressures, known and unknown; and that is why it is very important to understand these many pressures, influences, and be dissociated from them all, so that the mind becomes extraordinarily simple, clear. Then, perhaps, it will be possible to experience that which cannot be put into words. Question: You said yesterday that authority is evil. Why is it evil? Krishnamurti: Is not all following evil? Why do we follow authority of any kind? Why do we establish authority? Why do human beings accept authority - governmental, religious, every form of authority? Authority does not come into being by itself; we create it. We create the tyrannical ruler, as well as the tyrannical priest with his gods, rituals and beliefs. Why? Why do we create authority and become followers? Obviously, because we all want to be secure, we want to be powerful in different ways and in varying degrees. All of us are seeking position, prestige, which the leader, the country, the government, the minister, is offering; so we follow. Or we create the image of authority in our own minds, and follow that image. The church is as tyrannical as the political leaders; and while we object to the tyranny of governments, most of us submit to the tyranny of the church, or of some religious teacher. If we begin to examine the whole process of following, we will see, I think, that we follow, first of all, because we are confused, and we want somebody to tell us what to do. And being confused, we are bound to follow those who are also confused, however much they may assert that they are the messengers of God or the saviours of the State. We follow because we are confused; and as we choose leaders, both religious and political, out of our confusion, we inevitably create more confusion, more conflict, more misery. That is why it is very important for us to understand the confusion in ourselves, and not look to another to help us to clear it up. For how can a man who is confused know what is wrong and choose what is right, what is true? First he must clear up his own confusion. And once he has cleared up his own confusion, there is no choice; he will not follow anybody. So we follow because we want to be secure, whether economically, socially, or religiously. After all, the mind is always seeking security, it wants to be safe in this world, and also in the next world. All we are concerned with is to be secure, both with mammon and with God. That is why we create the authority of the government, the dictator, and the authority of the church, the idol, the image. So long as we follow, we must create authority, and that authority becomes ultimately evil, because we have thoughtlessly given ourselves over to domination by another. I think it is important to go deeply into this whole question and begin to understand why the mind insists on following. You follow, not only political and religious leaders, but also what you read in the newspapers, in magazines, in books; you seek the authority of the specialists, the authority of the written word. All this indicates, does it not?, that the mind is uncertain of itself. One is afraid to think apart from what has been said by the leaders, because one might lose one's job, be ostracized, excommunicated, or put into a concentration camp. We submit to authority because all of us have this inward demand to be safe, this urge to be secure. So long as we want to be secure - in our possessions, in our power, in our thoughts - we must have authority, we must be followers; and in that lies the seed of evil, for it invariably leads to the exploitation of man by man. He who would really find out what truth is, what God is, can have no authority, whether of the book, of the government, of the image, or of the priest; he must be totally free of all that. This is very difficult for most of us, because it means being insecure, standing completely alone, searching, groping, never being satisfied, never seeking success. But if we seriously experiment with it, then I think we shall find that there is no longer any question of creating or following authority, because something else begins to operate - which is not a mere verbal statement, but an actual fact. The man who is ceaselessly questioning, who has no authority, who does not follow any tradition, any book or teacher, becomes a light unto himself. Question: Why do you put so much emphasis on self-knowledge? We know very well what we are. Krishnamurti: I wonder if we do know what we are? We are, surely, everything that we have been taught, we are the totality of our past; we are a bundle of memories, are we not? When you say "I belong to God", or "The self is eternal", and all the rest of it -that is all part of your background, your conditioning. Similarly, when the Communist says "There is no God", he also is reflecting his conditioning. Merely to say "Yes, I know myself very well", is just a superficial remark. But to realize, to actually experience that your whole being is nothing but a bundle of memories, that all your thinking, your reactions, are mechanical, is not at all easy. It means being aware, not only of the workings of the conscious mind, but also of the unconscious residue, the racial impressions, memories, the things that we have learned; it means discovering the whole field of the mind, the hidden as well as the visible, and that is extremely arduous. And if my mind is merely the residue of the past, if it is only a bundle of memories, impressions, shaped by so-called education and various other influences, then is there any part of me which is not all that? Because, if I am merely a repeating machine, as most of us are - repeating what we have learned, what we have gathered, passing on what has been told to us - , then any thought arising within this conditioned field obviously can only lead to further conditioning, further misery and limitation. So, can the mind, knowing its limitation, being aware of its conditioning, go beyond itself? That is the problem. Merely to assert that it can, or it cannot, would be silly. Surely it is fairly obvious that the whole mind is conditioned. We are all conditioned - by tradition, by family, by experience, through the process of time. If you believe in God, that belief is the outcome of a particular conditioning, just as is the disbelief of the man who says he does not believe in God. So belief and disbelief have very little importance. But what is important is to understand the whole field of thought, and to see if the mind can go beyond it all. To go beyond, you must know yourself. The motives, the urges, the responses, the immense pressure of what people have taught you; the dreams, the inhibitions, the conscious and hidden compulsions - you must know them all. Only then I think, is it possible to find out if the mind, which is now so mechanical, can discover something totally new, something which has never been corrupted by time. Question: You say that true religion is neither belief, nor dogma, nor ceremonies. What then is true religion? Krishnamurti: How are you going to find out? It is not for me just to answer, surely. How is the individual to find out what is true religion? We know what is generally called religion - dogma, belief, ceremonies, meditation, the practice of yoga, fasting, disciplining oneself, and so on. We all know the whole gamut of the so-called religious approach. But is that religion? And if I want to find out what is true religion, how am I to set about it? First of all, I must obviously be free from all dogmas, must I not? And that is extraordinarily difficult. I may be free from the dogmas imposed upon me in childhood, but I may have created a dogma or belief of my own - which is equally pernicious. So I must also be free from that. And I can be free only when I have no motive, when there is no desire at all to be secure, either with God or in this world. Again, this is extremely difficult, because surreptitiously, deep down, the mind is always wanting a position of certainty. And there are all the images that have been imposed upon the mind, the saviours, the teachers, the doctrines, the superstitions - I must be free of all that. Then, perhaps, I shall find out what it is to be truly religious - which may be the greatest revolution, and I think it is. The only true revolution is not the economic revolution, or the revolution of the Communists, but the deep religious revolution which comes about when the mind is no longer seeking shelter in any dogma or belief, in any church or saviour, in any teacher or sacred book. And I think such a revolution has immense significance in the world, for then the mind has no ideology, it is neither of the West nor of the East. Surely, this religious revolution is the only salvation. To find out what is true religion requires, not a mere one-day effort or one-day search and forgetfulness the next day, but constant questioning, a disturbing inquiry, so that you begin to discard everything. After all, this process of discarding is the highest form of thinking. The pursuit of positive thinking is not thinking at all, it is merely copying. But when there is inquiry without a motive, without the desire for a result, which is the negative approach - in that inquiry the mind goes beyond all traditional religions; and then, perhaps, one may find out for oneself what God is, what truth is. September 6, 1956 HAMBURG, GERMANY 3RD PUBLIC TALK 9TH SEPTEMBER 1956 I do not think that we realize the significance or the importance of the individual. Because, as I was saying the other day, to bring about a fundamental, religious revolution, one must surely cease to think in terms of the universal, in terms of the collective. Anything that is made universal, collective, belonging to everyday, can never be true - true in the sense of being directly experienced by each individual, uninfluenced, without the impetus of self-centred interest. I think we do not sufficiently realize the seriousness of this. Anything really true must be totally individual - not in the sense of self-centredness, which is very limiting and which in itself is evil, but individual in the sense that each one of us must experience for himself, uninfluenced, something which is not the outcome of any self-centred interest or drive. One can see in the modern world how everything is tending towards collective thought - everybody thinking alike. The various governments, though they do not compel it, are quietly and sedulously working at it. Organized religions are obviously controlling and shaping the minds of people according to their respective patterns, hoping thereby to bring about a universal morality, a universal experience. But I think that whatever is made universal, in that sense, is always suspect, because it can never be true; it has lost its vitality, its directness, its truth. Yet throughout the world we see this tendency to shape and to control the mind of man. And it is extraordinarily difficult to free the mind from this false universality and to change oneself without any self-interest. It seems to me that we must have a change - a fundamental, radical change in our thinking, in our feeling. To bring about change we use various methods, we have ideals, disciplines, sanctions, or we look to social, economic and scientific influences. These things do bring about a superficial change, but I am not talking of that. I am talking of a change which is uninfluenced, without any self-interest, without self-centredness. It seems to me that such a change is possible, and that it must come about if we are to have this religious revolution of which I was speaking the other day. We think that ideals are necessary. But do ideals help to bring about this radical change in us? Or do they merely enable us to postpone, to push change into the future, and thereby avoid the immediate, radical change? Surely, so long as we have ideals, we never really change, but hold on to our ideals as a means of postponement, of avoiding the immediate change which is so essential. I know it is taken for granted by the majority of us that ideals are indispensable, for without them we think there would be no impetus to change, and we would rot, stagnate. But I am questioning whether ideals of any kind ever do transform our thinking. Why do we have ideals? If I am violent, need I have the ideal of non-violence? I do not know if you have thought about this at all. If I am violent - as most of us are in different degrees - , is it necessary for me to have the ideal of non-violence? Will the pursuit of non-violence free the mind from violence? Or is the very pursuit of non-violence actually an impediment to the understanding of violence? After all, I can understand violence only when with my whole mind I give complete attention to the problem. And the moment I am wholly concerned with violence and the understanding of violence, what significance has the ideal of non-violence? It seems to me that the pursuit of the ideal is an evasion, a postponement. If I am to understand violence, I must give my whole mind to it, and not allow myself to be distracted by the ideal of non-violence. This is really a very important issue. Most of us look upon the ideal as essential in order to make us change. But I think it is possible to bring about a change only when the mind understands the whole problem of violence; and to understand violence, you must give your complete attention to it, and not be distracted by an ideal. We all see the importance of the cessation of violence. And how am I, as an individual, to be free of violence - not just superficially, but totally, completely, inwardly? If the ideal of non-violence will not free the mind from violence, then will the analysis of the cause of violence help to dissolve violence? After all, this is one of our major problems, is it not? The whole world is caught up in violence, in wars; the very structure of our acquisitive society is essentially violent. And if you and I as individuals are to be free from violence - totally, inwardly free, not merely superficially or verbally - , then how is one to set about it without becoming self-centred? You understand the problem, do you not? If my concern is to free the mind from violence and I practise discipline in order to control violence and change it into non-violence, surely that brings about self-centred thought and activity, because my mind is focussed all the time on getting rid of one thing and acquiring something else. And yet I see the importance of the mind being totally free from violence. So what am I to do? Surely, it is not a question of how one is not to be violent. The fact is that we are violent, and to ask "How am I not to be violent?" merely creates the ideal, which seems to me to be utterly futile. But if one is capable of looking at violence and understanding it, then perhaps there is a possibility of resolving it totally. So, how are we to resolve violence without becoming self-centred, without the `me' being completely occupied with itself and its problems? I do not know if you have thought about this matter. Most of us, I think, have accepted the easy path of pursuing the ideal of non-violence. But if one is really concerned, deeply, inwardly, with how to resolve violence, then it seems to me that one must find out whether ideals are essential, and whether discipline, practice, the constant reminding of oneself not to be violent, can ever resolve violence, or will merely exaggerate self-centredness under the new name of non-violence. Surely, to discipline the mind towards the ideal of non-violence is still a self-centred activity, and therefore only another form of violence. If the problem is clear, then perhaps we can proceed to inquire into whether it is possible to free the mind from violence without being self-centred. This is very important, and I think it would be worth while if we could go into it hesitantly and tentatively, and really find out. I see that any form of discipline, suppression, any effort to substitute an ideal for the fact - even though it be the ideal of love, or peace - , is essentially a self-centred process, and that inherent in that process is the seed of violence. The man who practises non-violence is essentially self centred, and therefore essentially violent, because he is concerned about himself. To practise humility is never to be humble, because the self-conscious process of acquiring humility, or cultivating any other virtue, is only another form of self-centredness, which is inherently evil and violent. If I see this very clearly, then what am I to do? How am I to set about to free the mind from violence? I do not know if you have thought about the problem at all in this manner. Perhaps this is the first time you have considered it, and so you may be inclined to say "What nonsense!" But I do not think it is nonsense. After all, most idealists are very self-centred people, because they are concerned with achievement. So the question is, is it possible to free the mind from violence without this self-centred influence and activity? I think it is possible. But to really find out, one must inquire into it, not as part of a group, of the collective, but as an individual. As part of the collective you have already accepted the ideal, and you practise virtue. But surely one must dissociate oneself totally from that whole process, and inquire directly for oneself. To inquire directly, one must ask oneself if the entity, the person who wants to get rid of violence, is different from the violence itself. When one acknowledges "I am violent", is the `I' who then wishes to get rid of violence different from the quality which he calls violence? This may all sound a bit complicated, but if one will go into it patiently I think one will understand without too much difficulty. When I say "I am violent", and wish to free myself from violence, is the entity who is violent different from the quality which he calls violence? That is, is the experiencer who feels he is violent different from the experience itself? Surely the experiencer is the same as the experience; he is not different or apart from the experience. I think this is very important to understand; because if one really understood it, then in freeing the mind from violence there would be no self-centred activity at all. We have separated the thinker from the thought, have we not? We say "I am violent, and I must make an effort to get rid of violence". In order to get rid of violence we discipline ourselves, we practise non-violence, we think about it every day and try to do something about it - which means we take it for granted that the `I', the maker of effort, is different from the experience, from the quality. But is this so? Are the two states different, or are they really a unit, one and the same? Obviously, there is no thinker if there is no thought. But the thinker, the `I', who is the maker of effort, is always exercising his volition in getting rid of violence; so he has separated himself from the quality which he calls violence. But they are not separate, are they? They are a unity. And actually to experience that unitary state - which means not differentiating between the thinker and his thought, between the `I' who is violent and the violence itself - is essential if the mind is to be free from violence without self-centred action. If you will think about it a little I am sure you will see the truth of what I am trying to say. After all, just as the quality of the diamond cannot be separated from the diamond, so the quality of the thinker cannot be separated from thought itself. But we have separated them. In us there is ever the observer, the watcher, the censor, who is condemning, justifying, accepting, denying, and so on; the censor is always exercising influence on his thought. But the thought is the censor, the two are not separate; and it is essential to experience this in order to bring about a revolutionary change in which there is no self-centred activity. After all, it is urgent that we change. We have had so many wars, such destruction, violence, terror, misery, and if we do not change radically we shall go on pursuing the same old path. To change radically and not merely accept a new set of slogans, or give ourselves over to the State or to the church; to really understand the fundamental revolution that must take place in order to put an end to all this misery, it seems to me essential to discover whether there can be an action which is not self-centred. Surely, action will ever be self-centred as long as we do not experience directly for ourselves the fact that there is only thought and not the thinker. But if once we do experience this, I think we will find that effort then has quite a different significance. At present we make an effort, do we not?, in order to achieve a result, in order to arrive, to become something. If I am angry, ambitious, brutal, I make an effort not to be. But such effort is self-centred, because I am still wanting to be something, perhaps negatively; there is still ambition, which is violence. So if I am to change radically, without this self-centred motive, I must go very deeply into the problem of change. This means that I must think entirely differently, away from the collective, away from the ideal, away from the usual habit of discipline, practice, and all the rest of it. I must inquire who is the thinker, and what is thought, and find out whether thought is different from the thinker. Although thought has separated itself and set the thinker apart, he is still part of thought. And so long as thought is violent, mere control of thought by the thinker is of no value. So the question is, can the mind be aware that it is violent, without dividing itself as the thinker who wants to get rid of violence? This is really not a very complex problem. If you and I who are discussing it could go into it very carefully as individuals, we would see the extraordinary simplicity of it. Perhaps we are missing the significance of it because we think it is very complex. It is not. The simple fact is that there is no experiencer without the experience; the experiencer is the experience, the two are not separate. But so long as the experiencer sets himself apart and demands more experience, so long as he wishes to change this into that, there can be no fundamental transformation. So the radical change we need is possible only when there are no ideals. Ideals are reform; and a mind that is merely reforming itself can never radically change. There can be no fundamental change if the mind is concerned with discipline, with fitting itself into a pattern, whether the pattern be that of society, of a teacher, or a pattern established by one's own thinking. There can be no radical change so long as the mind is thinking in terms of action according to its self-centred interest, however noble. The mere cultivation of virtue is not virtue. So we have to inquire into the problem of change from a wholly different point of view. The totality of comprehension comes only when there is no division between the thinker and the thought - and that is an extraordinary experience. But you must come to it tentatively, with care, with inquiry, for mere acceptance or denial of the fact that the thought and the thinker are one, will have no value. That is why a man who desires to bring about a fundamental change within himself must go into this problem very seriously and very deeply. Question: Crime among young people is spreading everywhere. What can we do about it? Krishnamurti: You see, there is either a revolt within the pattern of society, or a complete revolution outside of society. The complete revolution outside of society is what I call religious revolution. Any revolution which is not religious is within society, and is therefore no revolution at all, but only a modified continuation of the old pattern. What is happening throughout the world, I believe, is revolt within society, and this revolt often takes the form of what is called crime. There is bound to be this kind of revolt so long as our education is concerned only with training youth to fit into society - that is, to get a job, to earn money, to be acquisitive, to have more, to conform. That is what our so-called education everywhere is doing - teaching the young to conform, religiously, morally, economically; so naturally their revolt has no meaning, except that it must be suppressed, reformed, or controlled. Such revolt is still within the framework of society, and therefore it is not creative at all. But through right education we could perhaps bring about a different understanding by helping to free the mind from all conditioning, that is, by encouraging the young to be aware of the many influences which condition the mind and make it conform. So, is it possible to educate the mind to be aware of all the influences that now surround us, religious, economic and social, and not be caught in any of them? I think it is; and when once we realize it, we shall approach this problem entirely differently. Question: If we transform ourselves and become peaceful, while others do not transform themselves but remain aggressive and brutal, are we not inviting them to attack and violate us as helpless victims? Krishnamurti: I wonder if this question is put seriously? Have you tried to transform yourself, to be really peaceful, and see what happens? Without actually being peaceful, we say to ourselves "If I am peaceful, another may attack me; and so we set up the whole mechanism of attack and defence. But surely, sirs, we are concerned, are we not?, with the transformation of the individual, irrespective of what is done to him. We are not thinking in terms of nations, of groups, of races. So long as society exists as it is now, there must be attack and defence, because the whole structure of our thinking is based on that. You are a German or a Moslem, and I am a Russian or a Hindu; being afraid of each other, we must be prepared to defend ourselves, therefore we dare not be peaceful. So we keep that game going, and we live in its pattern. But now we are not talking as members of any particular society, of any particular group, nationality, or religion. We are talking as individual human beings. Any great thing, surely, is done by the individual, not by the mass, the collective. The mass is composed of many individuals who are caught in words, slogans, in nationalism, in fear. But if you and I as individuals begin to think about the problem of peace, then we are not concerned with whether another is peaceful or not. Surely love is not a matter of your loving me, and therefore I love you. Love is something entirely different, is it not? Where there is love, there is no problem of the other. Similarly, when I know for myself what peace is, I am not concerned with whether others are going to attack me or not. They may. But my interest is in peace and the understanding of it, which means totally eliminating from myself the whole fabric of violence. And that requires tremendously clear thinking deep meditation. Question: You say the mind must be quiet; but it is always busy, night and day. How can I change it? Krishnamurti: I wonder if we are actually aware that our minds are busy night and day? Or is this merely a verbal statement? Are you fully conscious that your mind is ceaselessly active, or are you merely repeating a statement you have heard? And even if you know it directly for yourself, why do you wish to change it? Is it because someone has said you must have a quiet mind? If you want a quiet mind in order to achieve something more, or to get somewhere else, then the acquisition of a quiet mind is just another form of self-centred action. So, does one see, without any motivation, that it is essential to have a quiet mind? If so, then the problem is, can thought come to an end? We know that when we are awake during the day, the mind is active with superficial things - with the job, the family, catching a train, and all the rest of it. And at night, in sleep, it is also active in dreams. So the process of thinking is going on ceaselessly. Now, can thought come to an end voluntarily, naturally, without being compelled through discipline? For only then can the mind be completely still. A mind that is made still, that is forced, disciplined to be still, is not a still mind; it is a dead mind. So, can thought, which is incessantly active, come to an end? And if thought does come to an end, will this not be a complete death to the mind? Are we not therefore afraid of thought coming to an end? If thought should come to an end, what would happen? The whole structure which we have built up of `myself' being important, my family, my country, my position, power, prestige -the whole of that would cease, obviously. So, do we really want to have a quiet mind? If we do, then we must inquire, must we not?, into the whole process of thinking; we must find out what thinking is. Is thinking merely the response of memory, or is thinking something else? If it is merely the response of memory, then can the mind put away all memory? Is it possible to put away all memory? That is, can thought cease to make an effort to retain the pleasant and discard the unpleasant memories? Perhaps this all seems a bit too complex and difficult; but it is not, if you go into it. The state of a mind that is really silent is something extraordinary. It is not the silence of negation. On the contrary, a silent mind is a very intense mind. But for such a mind to come into being, we must inquire into the whole process of thinking. And thinking, for most of us, is the response of memory. All our education, all our upbringing, encourages the continuance of memory identified as the `me', and on that basis we set the ball of thought rolling. So it is impossible to have a really still mind, a mind that is completely quiet, as long as you do not understand what thinking is, and the whole structure of the thinker. Is there a thinker when there is no thought based on memory? To find out, you have to trace your thought, inquire into every thought that you have, not just verbally or casually, but very persistently, slowly, hesitantly, without condemning or justifying any thought. At present there is a division between the thinker and the thought, and it is this division that creates conflict. Most of us are caught in conflict - perhaps not outwardly, but inwardly we are seething. We are in a continuous turmoil of wanting and not-wanting, of ambition, jealousy, anger. violence; and to have a really still, quiet mind, we must understand all that. September 9, 1956 HAMBURG, GERMANY 4TH PUBLIC TALK 14TH SEPTEMBER 1956 To understand what it is another is trying to convey, one must give a certain attention - not enforced attention or tremendous concentration, but that attention which comes with natural interest. After all, we have many problems in life - problems arising out of our relationship with society, the problems of war, of sex, of death, of whether or not there is God, and the problem of what this everlasting struggle is all about. We all have these problems. And I think we might begin to understand them deeply if we did not cling to one particular problem of our own, which is perhaps so close to us that it absorbs all our attention, all our effort, all our thinking but tried instead to approach the problem of living as a whole. In understanding the problem of living as a whole, I think we shall be able to understand our personal problems. That is what I want to deal with, if I can, this evening. Each one of us has a problem, and unfortunately that problem generally consumes most of our thought and energy. We are constantly groping, searching, trying to find an answer to our problem, and we want somebody else to supply that answer. It is probably for this very reason that you are here. But I do not think we will understand the totality of our existence if we merely look for an answer to a single problem. Because all problems are related; there is no isolated problem. So we have to look at life, not as something to be broken up into parts, made fractional, but as something to be understood as a whole. If we can realize this, get the feeling of it, then I think we shall have a totally different approach to our individual problems, which are also the world problems. What is happening now is that we are all so concerned with our own problems, with earning a livelihood, with getting ahead, with our personal virtue, and all the rest of it, that we do not have a general comprehension of the complete picture. And it seems to me that unless we get the feeling of the totality of our life, with all its experiences, miseries and struggles, unless we comprehend it as a whole, merely dealing with a particular problem, however apparently vital, will only create further problems, further misery. I hope this is clear between us - that we are not considering one isolated problem, but we are trying to understand together the totality of the problem of our existence. So, whatever may be our immediate problem, can we, through that problem, look at our life as a whole? If we can, then I think the immediate problem which we have will undergo quite a change; and perhaps we shall be able to understand it and be free of it entirely. Now, how does one set about to have this integrated outlook, this comprehensive view of life which reveals the significance of every relationship, every thought, every action? Surely, before we can see the whole picture, we must first be aware that we are always trying to solve our immediate problem in a very limited field. We want a particular answer, a satisfactory answer, an answer which will give us certainty. That is what we are seeking, is it not? And I think we must begin by being conscious of that, otherwise we shall not be able to grasp the significance of this whole problem. All this may at first seem very difficult, it may even sound rather absurd to those of you who are hearing it for the first time; and what we hear for the first time we naturally tend to reject. But if one wants to understand, one must neither reject nor accept what is being said. One must examine it, not with sentimentality or intellectual preconceptions, but with that intelligence and commonsense which will reveal the picture clearly. So, why is it that most of us are incapable of looking at the whole picture of life which, if understood, would resolve all our problems? We look at the picture as Germans, or Russians, or Hindus, or what you will. We look at the picture with our knowledge, with our ideas, with a particular training or technique, with a mind which is conditioned. We are always translating the picture according to our background, according to our education, our tradition. We never look at the picture without this influence of the past, without thinking about the picture. Do you see what I mean? After all, if I want to understand something, I must come to it with a fresh mind, with a mind that is not burdened with accumulated experience, knowledge, with all the conditioning to which it has been subjected. Life demands this, does it not? Life demands that I look at it afresh. Because life is movement, it is not a dead, static thing, and I must therefore approach it with a mind that is capable of looking at it without translating it in certain terms - as a Hindu, a Christian, or whatever it is I happen to be. So, before I can look at the whole picture, I must be aware of how my mind is burdened with knowledge, tradition, which prevents it from looking afresh at that which is moving, living. Knowledge, however wide, however necessary at one level, does not bring comprehension of life, which is a constant movement. If my mind is burdened with technique, training, so that it can understand only that which is static, dead, then I can have no comprehension of life as a whole. To comprehend the totality of life, I must understand the process of knowledge, and how knowledge interferes with that comprehension. This is fairly obvious, is it not? - that knowledge interferes with the understanding of life. And yet, what is happening in the world? All our education is a process of accumulating knowledge. We are concerned with developing techniques, with how to meditate, how to be good; the `how', the technique, becomes knowledge, and with that we hope to understand the immeasurable. So when one says "I understand what you are talking about", is it merely a verbal understanding, or has one really grasped the truth of the matter? If we really grasp the truth of what is being said, that very comprehension will free the mind from the accumulated knowledge which interferes with perception. So, is it possible for one who has had many experiences, who has read the various philosophies, the learned books, who has accumulated information, knowledge, to put all that aside? I do not think one can put it aside, suppress or deny it; but one can be aware of it, and not allow it to interfere with perception. After all, we are trying to find out what is truth, if there is reality, if there is God; and to discover this for oneself is true religion - not the acceptance of some silly ritual or dogma, and all the rest of that nonsense. To find something original and true, something timeless, you cannot come to it with the burden of memory, knowledge. The known, the past, can never help you to discover the moving, the creative. No amount of technique or learning, no amount of attending talks and discussions, can ever reveal to you the unknown. If you really see the truth of this, actually experience it for yourself, then you are free of all Masters and gurus, of all teachers, saints and saviours. Because, they can only teach you what is known; and the mind which is burdened with the known can never find what is unknowable. To be free from the known requires a great deal of understanding of the whole process of the accumulative mind. It would be silly to say "I must forget the past" - that has no meaning. But if one begins to understand why the mind accumulates and treasures the past, why the whole momentum of the mind is based on time - if one begins to understand all that, then one will find that the mind can free itself from the past, from the burden of accumulated knowledge. There is then the discovery of something totally new, unexperienced, unimagined, which is a state of creativity and which may be called reality, God, or what you will. So, being surrounded by problems, by innumerable conflicts, our difficulty is to know how to look at them, how to understand them, so that they are no longer a burden, and through those very problems we begin to discover the process by which the mind is everlastingly caught in time, in the known. Unless we can do that, our life remains very shallow. You may know a great deal, you may be a great scientist, you may be a great historian, or just an ordinary person; but life will always be shallow, empty, dull, until you understand for yourself this whole process, which is really the beginning of self-knowledge. So it seems to me that our many problems can never be solved until we approach them as an integral part of the totality of existence. We cannot understand the totality of existence as long as we break it up into compartments, as we are doing now. The difficulty is that our problems are so intense, so immediate, that we get caught in them; and not to be caught in them, the mind must begin to be aware of its own process of accumulation, by which it gains a sense of security for itself. After all, why do we accumulate property, money, position, knowledge, and so on? Obviously, because it gives us a sense of security. You may not have much property or money, but if you have knowledge, it gives you a feeling of security. It is only to the man who has no sense of security of any kind, that the new is revealed, because he is not concerned about himself and his achievements. So, how is the mind to free itself from time? Time, after all, is knowledge. Time comes into being when there is the sense of achievement, something to be arrived at, something to be gained. "I am not important, but I shall be" - in that idea, time has come into being, and with it the whole struggle of becoming. In the very idea "I shall be", there is effort to become; and I think it is this effort to become which creates time, and which prevents a comprehension of the totality of things. You see, so long as I am thinking about myself in terms of gain and loss, I must have time. I must have time to cover the distance between now and tomorrow, when I hope I shall be something, either in terms of virtue, or position, or knowledge. This creation of time breaks life up into segments; and that becomes the problem. To understand the totality of this extraordinary thing called life, one must obviously not be too definite about these things. One cannot be definite with something which is so immense, which is not measurable by words. We cannot understand the immeasurable so long as we approach it through time. To grasp the significance of all this is not an intellectual feat, nor a sentimental, emotional realization, but it means that you must really listen to what is being said; and in that very process of listening you will find out for yourself that the mind, though it is the product of time, can go beyond time. But this demands very clear thinking, a great alertness of mind, in which no emotionalism is involved. To understand the immeasurable, the mind must be extraordinarily quiet, still; but if I think I am going to achieve stillness at some future date, I have destroyed the possibility of stillness. It is now or never. That is a very difficult thing to understand, because we are all thinking of heaven in terms of time. Question: Are yogic exercises helpful in any way to human beings? Krishnamurti: I think one must go into this question fairly deeply. Apparently in Europe, as well as in India, there is this idea that by doing yogic exercises, practising virtue, being good, participating in social work, reading sacred books, following a teacher - that by doing something of this kind, you are going to achieve salvation or enlightenment. I am afraid you are not. On the contrary, you are going to be caught in the things you are practising, and therefore you will always be held a prisoner and your vision will be everlastingly limited. Yogic exercises are all right, probably, for the body. Any kind of exercise - walking, jumping, climbing mountains, swimming, or whatever you do - is on the same level. But to suppose that certain exercises will lead you to salvation, to understanding, to God, truth, wisdom - this I think is sheer nonsense, even though all the yogis in India say otherwise. If once you see that anything that you practise, that you accept, that you develop, always has behind it the element of greed - wanting to get something, wanting to reach something, wanting to break a record - , then you will leave it alone. A mind that is merely concerned with the `how', with doing yogic exercises, this or that, will only develop a sense of achievement through time, and such a mind can never comprehend that which is timeless. After all, you practise yogic exercises in the hope of reaching something, gaining something; you hope to achieve happiness, bliss, or whatever is offered. Do you think bliss is so easily realized? Do you think it is something to be gained by doing certain exercises, or developing concentration? Must not the mind be altogether free of this self-centred activity? Surely a man who practises yoga in order to reach enlightenment, is concerned about himself, about his own growth; he is full of his own importance. So it is a tremendous art - an art which can be approached only through self-knowledge, not through any practice - to understand this whole process of self-centred activity in the name of God, in the name of truth, in the name of peace, or whatever it be - to understand and be free of it. Now, to be free does not demand time, and I think this is our difficulty. We say "I am envious, and to get rid of envy I must control, I must suppress, I must sacrifice, I must do penance, I must practise yoga", and all the rest of it - all of which indicates the continuance of self-centred activity, only transferred to a different level. If one sees this, if one really understands it, then one no longer thinks in terms of getting rid of envy in a certain period of time. Then the problem is, can one get rid of envy immediately? It is like a hungry man - he does not want a promise of food tomorrow, he wants to be fed now, and in that sense he is free of time. But we are indolent, and what we want is a method to lead us to something which will ultimately give us pleasure. Question: A well-known author has written a great deal about the use of certain drugs which enable man to arrive at some visionary experience of union with the divine ground. Are those experiences helpful in finding that state of which you speak? Krishnamurti: You can learn tricks, or take drugs, or get drunk, and you will have intense experiences of one kind or another, depressing or exciting. Obviously the physiological condition does affect the psychological state of the mind; but drugs and practices of various kinds do not in any way bring about that state of which we are talking. All such things lead only to a variety, intensity and diversity of experience - which we all want and hunger after, because we are fed up with this world. We have had two world wars, with appalling misery and everlasting strife on every side; and our own minds are so petty, personal, limited. We want to escape from all this, either through psychology, philosophy, so-called religion, or through some exercise or drug - they are all on the same level. The mind is seeking a sensation; you want to experience what you call reality, or God, something immense, great, vital. You want to have visions; and if you take some kind of drug, or are sufficiently conditioned in a certain religion, you will have visions. The man who is everlastingly thinking about Christ, or Buddha, or what not, will sooner or later have experiences, visions; but that is not truth, it has nothing whatever to do with reality. Those are all self-projections; they are the result of your demand for experience. Your own conditioning is projecting what you want to see. To find out what is real, the mind must cease to demand any experience. So long as you are craving experience, you will have it, but it will not be real - real in the sense of the timeless, the immeasurable; it will not have the perfume of reality. It will all be an illusion, the product of a mind that is frustrated, that is seeking a thrill, an emotion, a feeling of vitality. That is why you follow leaders. They are always promising something new, a Utopia, always sacrificing the present for the future; and you foolishly follow them, because it is exciting. You have had that experience in this country, and you ought to know better than anyone else the miseries, the brutality of it all. Most of us demand the same kind of experience, the same kind of sensation, only at another level. That is why we take various drugs, or perform ceremonies, or practise some exercise that acts as a stimulant. These things all have significance in the sense that their use indicates that one is still craving experience; therefore the mind is everlastingly agitated. And the mind that is agitated, that is craving experience, can never find out what is true. Truth is always new, totally unknown and unknowable. The mind must come to it without any demand, without any knowledge, without any wish; it must be empty, completely naked. Then only truth may happen. But you cannot invite it. Question: Is our life predetermined, or is the way of life to be freely chosen? Krishnamurti: So long as we have choice, surely there is no freedom. Please follow this; do not merely reject or accept it, but let us think it out together. The mind that is capable of choosing, is not free; because in choice there is always conflict, conscious or unconscious, and a mind that is in conflict is never free. Our life is full of conflict, we are always choosing between good and bad, between this and that; you know this very well. We are always comparing, judging, evaluating, accepting, rejecting - that is the process of our life, which is a constant struggle; and a mind that is struggling is never free. And are we individuals - individuals in the sense of being unique? Are we? Or are we merely the result of our conditioning, of innumerable influences, of centuries of tradition? You may like to separate yourself as being of the West, and set yourself still further apart as being German. But are you an individual in the sense of being completely uncorrupted, uninfluenced? Only in that state are you free, not otherwise. Which does not mean anarchy, or selfishly individual existence - on the contrary. But now you are not individuals; you are anything but that. You are Germans, English, French; you are Catholics, Protestants, Communists - something or other. You are stamped, shaped, held within the framework in which you have been brought up, or which you have subsequently chosen. So your life is predetermined. You saw ten years ago how your life was predetermined. And every Catholic, every churchgoer, every person who belongs to any religious organization - his life is predetermined, fixed; therefore he is never free. He may talk about freedom, he may talk about love and peace; but he cannot have love and peace, nor can he be free, because for him those are mere words. Your life is shaped, controlled by the society which you have created. You have created the wars, the leaders; you have created the organized religions of which you are now slaves. So your life is predetermined. And to be free, you must first be aware that your life is predetermined, that it is conditioned, that all your responses are more or less the same as those of everybody else throughout the world. Superficially your responses may be different; you may respond one way here, another way in India or in China, and so on; but fundamentally you are held in the framework of your particular conditioning, and you are never an individual. Therefore it is absurd to talk about freedom and self-determination. You can choose between blue cloth and red cloth, and that is about all; your freedom is on that level. If you go into it very deeply, you will find that you are not an individual at all. But in going into it very deeply, you will also find that you can be free from all this conditioning - as a German, as a Catholic, as a Hindu, as a believer or a non-believer. You can be free from it all. Then you will know what it is to have an innocent mind; and it is only such a mind that can find out what is truth. Question: Will awareness free us, as you suggest, from our undesirable qualities? Krishnamurti: I think it is important to understand what we mean by awareness. I am going to explain what I mean, and please do not add something mysterious, complicated, or mystical. It is very clear and simple if one cares to go right to the end of it. We are aware, are we not?, of many things. You are aware that I am standing here, that I am talking, and that you are listening. And if you are alert, you are also aware of how you are listening. To know how you are listening is also part of awareness, and it is very important; because if you are aware of how you are listening, you will know in what way you are conditioned. You are probably interpreting what is being said according to your conditioning, according to your prejudices, according to your knowledge; and when you are interpreting, you are not listening. To be conscious of all this is part of awareness, is it not? Now if you go still further, you will find that the moment you are really listening, and not interpreting according to your prejudices, you begin to see for yourself what is true and what is false. Because true and false are not a matter of prejudice or opinion; either it is so, or it is not. But if you are concerned with interpretation all the time, then your vision is blurred and there is no clear perception. That is why most of us are not really listening to what is being said - because we are interpreting it in terms of our upbringing or preconceptions. If you are a Christian, you listen and compare what is being said with the teaching of the Bible, or the Christ; or if you do not do that, you refer to some other information which you have gathered. So you are always listening with a barrier. To see this whole process going on in one's mind is part of awareness, is it not? The questioner wants to know if through awareness he can be free of any unpleasant qualities. That is, can one be free, let us say, of envy? If you will follow what I am saying, you will see the full implication of what lies in this question. Most of us, if we are at all aware, cognizant, conscious of ourselves, know when we are envious. Furthermore, we can see that our whole society is based on envy, and that religions are also based on it - wanting something more, not only in this world but also in the next. We know the feeling of being envious, the superficial as well as the very complex process of envy. Now, being aware of envy, what happens? We either condemn or rationalize it. We generally condemn it, because to condemn is part of our upbringing; we are educated to condemn envy, it is the thing to do, even though we are envious all the time. By condemning envy, we hope to be free of it; but we are not free, it keeps on returning. Envy exists so long as there is a comparative mind. When I am comparing myself with somebody who is greater, more popular, more virtuous, and so on, I am envious. So a comparative mind breeds envy. And you will see, if you go into this problem still deeper, that so long as you verbalize that feeling by calling it `envy', the feeling goes on. I hope you are following this. You name the feeling, do you not? You say "I am envious". But cannot one know that one is envious without naming it? Is it only by naming the feeling that one becomes conscious of it? How do you know you are envious? Please take it very simply, and you will see. Do you know it only after you have given a name to it, calling it `envy'? Or do you know it as a feeling, independent of all terms? Is not all this also part of awareness? Let us go slowly. I am envious, and I condemn it, because to condemn envy is part of my social upbringing; but it goes on. So if I really want to be free of envy, what am I to do? That is the problem. I do not want the feeling to continue, because that would be too silly; I see the absurdity of it, and I want to be free of it. So, how is the mind to be free of envy? First I have to see that all comparison must cease; and to really see that requires very arduous inquiry, because one's whole upbringing is based on comparison -you must be as good as your brother, or your uncle, or your grandfather, or jesus, or whoever it is. So, can the mind cease to compare? Then the problem is, when one has a certain feeling, can the mind stop naming it, stop calling it `envy'? If you will experiment with this, you will see how extraordinarily alert the mind must be to differentiate the word from the feeling. All this is part of awareness, in which no effort is involved; because the moment you make an effort, you have a motive of gain, and therefore you are still envious. So the mind is envious as long as it is comparing itself with somebody else; and it is envious as long as it gives a name to the feeling, calling it `envy', because by giving it a name it strengthens that feeling. And when the mind does not compare, when the mind does not give a name to the feeling and thereby strengthen it, you will find, if you proceed very hesitantly, carefully, diligently, that awareness does free the mind from envy. September 14, 1956, HAMBURG, GERMANY 5TH PUBLIC TALK 15TH SEPTEMBER 1956 I think these meetings will be useless if what we are discussing is regarded merely as a verbal communication without much significance. Most of us, it seems to me, listen rather casually to something very serious, and we have little time or inclination to give our thought to the profound things of life and go deeply into them for ourselves. We are inclined to accept or to deny very easily. But if, during these meetings, instead of just listening superficially, we can actually experience what we are talking about as we go along, then I think it will be worth while to discuss a problem which must be confronting most of us. I am referring to the problem of dependence. It is really a very complex problem; but if we can go into it deeply and not merely, listen to the verbal description, if each one of us can be aware of it, see the whole implication of dependence and where it leads, then perhaps we shall discover for ourselves whether man, you and I, can be totally free from dependence. I think dependence, in its deeper psychological aspects, corrupts our thinking and our lives; it breeds exploitation; it cultivates authority, obedience, a sense of acceptance without understanding. And if we are to bring about a totally new kind of religion, entirely different from what religion is now, if there is to be the total revolution of a truly religious person, then I think we must understand the tremendous significance of dependence and be free of it. Most of us are dependent, not only on society, but on our neighbour, on our immediate relationship with wife, husband, children, or on some authority. We rely on another for our conduct, for our behaviour, and in the process of dependence we identify ourselves with a class, with a race, with a country; and this psychological dependence does bring about a sense of frustration. Surely it must have occurred to some of us to ask ourselves whether one can ever be psychologically, inwardly free - free in one's heart and mind of all dependence on another. Obviously we are all interdependent in our everyday physical existence; our whole social structure is based on physical interdependence; and it is natural, is it not?, to depend on others in that sense. But I think it is totally unnatural to depend on another for our psychological comfort, for our inward security and wellbeing. If we are at all aware of this process of dependence, we can see what it involves. There is in it a great sense of fear, which ultimately leads to frustration. Psychological dependence on another gives a false sense of security. And if it is not a person on whom we depend, it is a belief, or an ideal, or a country, or an ideology, or the accumulation of knowledge. We see, then, that psychologically we do depend. I think this is fairly obvious to any person who is at all aware of himself in his relationship with another and with society. Now, why do we depend? and is it possible not to depend psychologically, to be free of this inward dependence of one mind on another? I think it is fairly important to find out why we depend. And if we did not depend, what would happen? Is it a feeling of loneliness, a sense of emptiness, insufficiency, that drives us to depend on something? Are we dependent because we lack self-confidence? And if we do have confidence in ourselves, does that bring about freedom, or merely an aggressive, self-assertive activity? I do not know if you think, as I do, that this is a significant problem in life. Perhaps we are not aware of our psychological dependence; but if we are, we are bound to see that behind this dependence there is immense fear, and it is to escape from that fear that we depend. Psychologically we do not want to be disturbed, or to have taken away from us that on which we depend, whether it be a country, an idea, or a person; therefore that on which we depend becomes very important in our life, and we are always defending it. It is in order to escape from the fear which we unconsciously know exists in us, that we turn to another to give us comfort, to give us love, to encourage us - and that is the very process of dependence. So, can the mind be free of this dependence, and thus be able to look at the whole problem of fear? Without deeply understanding fear and being free of it, the mere search for reality, for God, for happiness, is utterly useless; because what you are seeking then becomes that on which you again depend. Only the mind that is inwardly free of fear can know the blessing of reality; and the mind can be free of fear only when there is no dependence. Now, can we look at fear? What is fear? Fear exists, surely, only in relation to something. Fear does not exist by itself. And what is it that we are afraid of? We may not be consciously aware of our fear, but unconsciously we are afraid; and that unconscious fear has far greater power over our daily thoughts and activities than the effort we make to suppress or deny fear. So what is it that most of us are afraid of? There are superficial fears, such as the fear of losing a job, and so on; but to those fears we can generally adjust ourselves. If you lose your job, you will find some other way of making a living. The great fear is not for one's social security; it lies much deeper than that. And I do not know if the mind is willing to look at itself so profoundly as to be able to find out for itself what it is intrinsically frightened of. Unless you discover for yourself the deep source of your fear, all efforts to escape from fear, all cultivation of virtue, and so on, is of no avail; because fear is at the root of most of our anxious urges. So can we find out what it is we are afraid of, each one of us? Is the cause of fear common to us all, like death? Or is it something that each one of us has to discover, look at, go into for himself? Most of us are frightened of being lonely. We are unconsciously aware that we are empty, that we are nothing. Though we may have titles, jobs, position, power, money, and all the rest of it, underlying all that there is a state of emptiness, an unfulfilled longing, a vacuum which we translate as loneliness - that state in which the self, the `me', has completely enclosed the mind. Perhaps that is the very root of our fear. And can we look at it in order to understand it? For I think we must understand it if we would go beyond it. Most of our activity is based on fear, is it not? That is, we never want to face ourselves exactly as we are, to know ourselves completely. And the more deeply and drastically you go into yourself, the greater the sense of emptiness you will find. All that we have learned, the knowledge we have acquired, the virtues we have cultivated - all this is on the surface, and it has very little meaning if one penetrates more and more deeply into oneself; for as one penetrates, one comes upon this enormous sense of emptiness. You may sometimes have caught a fleeting glimpse of it as a feeling of loneliness, of insufficiency; but then you turn on the radio, or talk, or do something else to escape from that feeling. And that feeling, that sense of `not being', may be the cause of all fear. I think most of us have at rare moments experienced that state. And when we do fleetingly experience it, we generally run away from it through some form of amusement, through knowledge, through the vast mechanism of escape offered by the so-called civilized world. But what happens if we do not escape? Can the mind go into that? I think it must. Because in going deeply into that state of emptiness we may discover something totally new and be completely free of fear. To understand something, we must approach it without any sense of condemnation, must we not? If I want to understand you, I must not be full of memories, my mind must not be burdened with knowledge about Germans, Hindus, Russians, or whatever the label may be. To understand, I must be free of all sense of condemnation and evaluation. Similarly, if I am to understand this state which I have called emptiness, loneliness, a feeling of insufficiency, I must look at it without any sense of condemnation. If I want to understand a child I must not condemn him, or compare him with another child. I must observe him in all his moods - when he is playing, crying, eating, talking. In such a manner the mind must watch the feeling of emptiness, without any sense of condemnation or rejection. Because, the moment I condemn or reject that feeling, I have already created the barrier of fear. So, can one look at oneself, and at this sense of insufficiency, without any condemnation? After all, condemnation is a process of verbalization, is it not? And when one condemns, there is no true communication. I hope you are following this, because I think it is very important to understand it now, to really experiment with it as you are listening, and not merely go away and think about it later. This does not mean experimenting with what I say, but experimenting with the discovery of your own loneliness, your own emptiness -the feeling of insufficiency which causes fear. And you cannot be free to discover if you approach that state with any sense of condemnation. So, can we now look at that thing which we have called emptiness, loneliness, insufficiency, realizing that we have always tried to escape from it rather than comprehend it? I see that what is important is to understand it, and that I cannot understand it if there is any sense of condemnation. So condemnation goes; therefore I approach it with a totally different mind, a whole, free mind. Then I see that the mind cannot separate itself from emptiness, because the mind itself is that emptiness. If you really go into it very deeply for yourself, free of all condemnation, you will find that out of the thing which we have called emptiness, insufficiency, fear, there comes an extraordinary state, a state in which the mind is completely quiet, undemanding, unafraid; and in that silence there is the coming into being of creativity, reality, God, or whatever you may like to call it. This inward sense of having no fear can take place only when you understand the whole process of your own thinking; and then I think it is possible to discover for oneself that which is eternal. Question: Most of us are caught up in and are bored with the routine of our work, but our livelihood depends on it. Why can we not be happy in our work? Krishnamurti: Surely, modern civilization is making many of us do work which we as individuals do not like at all. Society as it is now constituted, being based on competition, ruthlessness, war, demands, let us say, engineers and scientists; they are wanted everywhere throughout the world because they can further develop the instruments of war and make the nation more efficient in its ruthlessness. So education is largely dedicated to building the individual into an engineer or a scientist, whether he is fit for it or not. The man who is being educated as an engineer may not really want to be one. He may want to be a painter, a musician, or who knows what else. But circumstances - education, family tradition, the demands of society, and so on - force him to specialize as an engineer. So we have created a routine in which most of us get caught, and then we are frustrated, miserable, unhappy for the rest of our lives. We all know this. It is fundamentally a matter of education, is it not? And can we bring about a different kind of education in which each person, the teacher as well as the student, loves what he is doing? `Loves' - I mean exactly that word. But you cannot love what you are doing if you are all the time using it as a means to success, power, position, prestige. Surely, as it is now constituted, society does produce individuals who are utterly bored, who are caught in the routine of what they are doing. So it will take a tremendous revolution, will it not?, in education and in everything else, to bring about a totally different environment - an environment which will help the students, the children, to grow in that which they really love to do. As things are now, we have to put up with routine, with boredom, and so we try to escape in various ways. We try to escape through amusements, through television or the radio, through books, through so-called religion, and so our lives become very shallow, empty, dull. This shallowness in turn breeds the acceptance of authority, which gives us a sense of universality, of power, position. We know all this in our hearts; but it is very difficult to break away from it all, because to break away demands, not the usual sentimentality, but thought, energy, hard work. So if you want to create a new world - and surely you must, after these terrible wars, after the misery, the terrors that human beings have gone through - , then there will have to be a religious revolution in each one of us, a revolution that will bring about a new culture, and a totally new religion, which is not the religion of authority, of priest craft, of dogma and ritual. To create a wholly different kind of society, there must be this religious revolution -that is, a revolution within the individual, and not the terrible outward bloodshed which only brings more tyranny, more misery and fear. If we are to create a new world - new in a totally different sense - , then it must be our world, and not a German world, or a Russian world, or a Hindu world; for we are all human beings, and the earth is ours. But unfortunately very few of us feel deeply about all this, because it demands love, not sentimentality or emotionalism. Love is hard to find; and the man who is sentimentally emotional is generally cruel. To bring about a totally different culture, it seems to me that there must take place in each one of us this religious revolution, which means that there must be freedom, not only from all creeds and dogmas, but freedom from personal ambition and self-centred activity. Only then, surely, can there be a new world. Question: You reject discipline and outward order, and suggest that we should act only by inner impulse. Will this not add to the great instability of people and encourage the following of irresponsible urges, especially among the youth of our time, who only want to enjoy themselves and are already drifting? Krishnamurti: I am afraid the questioner has not understood what we are taking about at all. I am not suggesting that you should abandon discipline. Even if you did try to abandon it, your society, your neighbour, your wife or husband, the people around you, would force you to discipline yourself again. We are discussing, not the abandonment of discipline, but the whole problem of discipline. If we could understand the very deep implications of discipline, then there might be order which is not based on coercion, compulsion, fear. Surely, discipline implies suppression, does it not? Please think it out with me and do not just reject it. I know you are all very fond of discipline, of obeying following; but do not merely reject what I am suggesting. In disciplining myself, I suppress what I want in order to conform to some greater value, to the edicts of society, or whatever it is. That suppression may be a necessity, or it may be voluntary, even pleasurable; but it is still a form of putting away desire of one kind or another, suppressing it, denying it, and training myself to conform to a pattern laid down by society, by a teacher, or by the sanctions of a particular regime. If we reject that outward form of discipline, then we establish a discipline of our own. We say "I must not do this, it is wrong; I must do only what is right, what is good, what is noble. When I have an ugly thought, I must suppress it; I must discipline myself, I must practise constant watchfulness". Now, where there is conformity, discipline, suppression, conscious or unconscious, there is a constant struggle going on, is there not? We are all familiar with this fact. I am not saying anything new, but we are directly examining what is constantly taking place. And a mind that is suppressed, compelled to conform, must ultimately break out into all kinds of chaotic activities -which is what actually happens. When we discipline ourselves, it is in order to get something we want. After all, the so-called religious people discipline themselves because they are pursuing an idea in the distance which they hope someday to achieve. The idealist, the utopian, is thinking in terms of tomorrow; he has established the ideal for the future and is always trying to conform to what he thinks he should be. He never understands the whole process of what is actually taking place in himself, but is only concerned with the ideal. The 'what should be' is the pattern, and he is trying to fit himself into it because he hopes in that pattern there will be greater happiness, greater bliss, the discovery of truth, God, and all the rest of it. So, is it not important to find out why the mind disciplines itself, and not merely say that it should not? I think there would be, not conformity, not enforcement, but a totally different kind of adjustment if we could really understand what it is the mind is seeking through discipline. After all, you discipline yourself in order to be safe. Is that not essentially true? You want to be secure, not only in this world, but also in the next world - if there is a next world. The mind that is seeking security must conform; and conformity means discipline. You want to find a Master, a teacher, and so you discipline yourself, you meditate, you suppress certain desires, you force your mind to fit into a frame. And so your whole life, your whole consciousness is twisted. If we understand, not superficially, but really deeply, the inward significance of discipline, we will see that it makes the mind conform, as a soldier is made to conform; and the mind that merely conforms to a pattern, however noble, can obviously never be free, and therefore can never perceive what is true. This does not mean that the mind can do whatever it likes. When it does whatever it likes, it soon finds out there is always pain, sorrow, at the end of it. But if the mind sees the full significance of all this, then you will find that there is immediate understanding without compulsion, without suppression. One of our difficulties is that we have been so trained, educated to suppress, to conform, that we are really frightened of being free; we are afraid that in freedom we may do something ugly. But if we begin to understand the whole pattern of discipline, which is to see that we conform in order to arrive, to gain, to be secure, then we shall find that there comes into being a totally different process of awareness in which there is no necessity for suppression or conformity. Question: What happens after death? And do you believe in reincarnation? Krishnamurti: This is a very complex problem that touches every human being, whether he is young or old, and whether he lives in Russia, where there is officially no belief in the hereafter, or in India, or here in the West, where there is every shade of belief. It really requires very careful inquiry and not merely the acceptance or rejection of a particular belief. So let us please think it out together very carefully. Death is the inevitable end for all of us and we know it. We may rationalize it, or escape from the uncertainty of that vast unknown through belief in reincarnation, resurrection, or what you will; but fear is still there. The body, the physical organism inevitably wears itself out, just as every machine wears itself out. You and I know that disease, accident, or old age will come and carry us away. We say "Yes, that is so", and we accept it; so that is really not our problem. Our problem is much deeper. We are frightened of losing everything that we have gained, understood, gathered; we are frightened of not being; we are frightened of the unknown. We have lived, we have accumulated, learned, experienced, suffered; we have educated the mind and disciplined ourselves; and is death the end of it all? We do not like to think that it is. So we say there must be a hereafter; life must continue, if not by returning to earth, then it must continue elsewhere. And many of us have a comforting belief in the theory of reincarnation. To me belief is not important; because belief in an idea, in a theory, however comforting, however satisfactory, does not give understanding of the full significance of death. Surely, death is something totally unknown, completely new. However anxiously I may inquire into death, it ever remains something which I do not know. All that you and I know is the past, and the continuity of the past through the present to the future. Memory identified with my house, my family, my name, my acquisitions, virtues, struggles, experiences - all that is the `me', and we want the `me' to continue. Or if you are tired of the `me', you say "Thank God, death ends it all", but that does not solve the problem either. So we must find out, surely, the truth of this matter. what you happen to believe or disbelieve about reincarnation has no truth in it. But instead of asking what happens after death, can we not discover the truth of what death is? Because life itself may be a process of death. Why do we divide life from death? We do so because we think life is a process of continuity, of accumulation; and death is cessation, the annihilation of all that we have accumulated. So we have separated living from death. But life may be entirely different; it may be a process the truth of which we do not know, a process of living and dying each minute. All that we know is a form of continuity - what I was yesterday, what I am today, and what I hope to be tomorrow. That is all we know. And because the mind clings to that continuity it is afraid of what it calls death. Now, can the living mind know death? Do you understand the problem? It is not a question of what happens after death, but can a living mind, a mind that is not diseased, that is fully alert, aware, experience that state which it calls death? Which means, really, do we know what living is? Because living may be dying, in the sense of dying to our memories. Please follow this, and perhaps you will see the enormous implication of this idea of death. We live in the field of the known, do we not? The known is that with which I have identified myself - my family, my country, my experiences, my job, my friends, the virtues, the qualities, the knowledge I've gathered, all the things I have known. So the mind is the result of the past; the mind is the past. The mind is burdened with the known. And can the mind free itself from the known? That is, can I die to all that I have accumulated - not when I am a doddering old man, but now? While I am still full of vitality, clarity and understanding, can I die to everything that I have been, that I am going to be, or think that I should be? That is can I die to the known, die to every moment? Can I invite death, enter the house of death while living? You can enter the house of death only when the mind is free from the known - the known being all that you have gathered, all that you are, all that you think you are and hope to be. All this must completely cease. And is there then a division between living and dying, or only a totally different state of mind? If you are merely listening to the words, then I am afraid you will not understand the implication of what is being said. But if you will, you can see for yourself that living is a process of dying every minute, and renewing. Otherwise you are not really living, are you? You are merely continuing a state of mind within the field of the known, which is routine, which is boredom. There is living, surely, only when you die - consciously, intelligently, with full awareness - to everything that you have been, to the many yesterdays. Then the problem of death is entirely different. There may be no problem at all. There may be a state of mind in which time does not exist. Time exists only when there is identification with the known. The mind that is burdened with the known is everlastingly afraid of the unknown. Whatever it may do, whatever may be its beliefs, its dogmas, its hopes, they are all based on fear; and it is this fear that corrupts living. September 15, 1956 HAMBURG, GERMANY 6TH PUBLIC TALK 16TH SEPTEMBER 1956 It seems to me that the whole world is intent on capturing the mind of man. We have created the psychological world of relationship, the world in which we live, and it in turn is controlling us, shaping our thinking, activities, our psychological being. Every political and religious organization, you will find, is after the mind of man -' after' in the sense of wanting to capture it, shape it to a certain pattern. The powers that be in the Communist world are blatantly conditioning the mind of man in every direction, and this is also true of the organized religions throughout the world, who for centuries have tried to mould the way of man's thought. Each specialized group, whether religious, secular, or political, is striving to draw and to hold man within the pattern of that which its books, its leaders, the few in power, think is good for him. They think they know the future; they think they know what is the ultimate good for man. The priests, with their so-called religious authority, as well as the worldly powers - whether it be in Rome, in Moscow, in America, or elsewhere - are all trying to control man's thought process, are they not? And most of us eagerly accept some form of authority and subject ourselves to it. There are very few who escape the clutches of this organized control of man and his thinking. Merely to break away from a particular religious pattern, or from a political pattern of the left or of the right, in order to adopt another pattern, or to establish one of our own, will not, it seems to me, simplify the extraordinary complexity of our lives, or resolve the catastrophic misery in which most of us live. I think the fundamental solution lies elsewhere, and it is this fundamental solution that we are all trying to find. Groping blindly, we join this organization or that. We belong to a particular society, follow this or that leader, try to find a Master in India or somewhere else -always hoping to break away from our narrow, limited existence, but always caught, it seems to me, in this conflict within the pattern. We never seem to get away from the pattern, either self-created, or imposed by some leader or religious authority. We blindly accept authority in the hope of breaking through the cloud of our own strife, misery and struggle; but no leader, no authority is ever going to free man. I think history has shown this very clearly, and you in this country know it very well - perhaps better than others. So if a new world is to come into being, as it must, it seems to me extremely important to understand this whole process of authority - the authority imposed by society, by the book, by a set of people who think they know the ultimate good for man and who seek to force him through torture through every form of compulsion, to conform to their pattern. We are quick to follow such people because in our own being we are so uncertain, so confused; and we also follow because of our vanity and arrogance, and out of desire for the power offered by another. Now, is it possible to break away from this whole pattern of authority? Can we break away from all authority of any kind in ourselves? We may reject the authority of another, but unfortunately we still have the authority of our own experience, of our own knowledge, of our own thinking, and that in turn becomes the pattern which guides us; but that is essentially no different from the authority of another. There is this desire to follow, to imitate, to conform in the hope of achieving something greater, and so long as this desire exists there must be misery and strife, every form of suppression, frustration and suffering. I do not think we sufficiently realize the necessity of being free of this compulsion to follow authority, inward or outward. And I think it is very important psychologically to understand this compulsion; otherwise we shall go on blindly struggling in this world in which we live and have our being, and we shall never find that other thing which is so infinitely greater. We must surely break away from this world of imitation and conformity if we are to find a totally different world. This means a really fundamental change in our lives - in the way of our action, in the way of our thought, in the way of our feeling. But most of us are not concerned with that, we are not concerned with understanding our thoughts, our feelings, our activities. We are only concerned with what to believe or not to believe, with whom to follow or not to follow, with which is the religious society or political party, and all the rest of that nonsense. We are never concerned deeply, inwardly, with a radical change in the way of our daily life, in the way of our speech, the sensitivity of our thought towards another; so we are not concerned with any of that. We cultivate the intellect and acquire knowledge of innumerable things, but we remain inwardly the same - ambitious, cruel, violent, envious, burdened with all the pettiness of which the mind is capable. And seeing all this, is it possible to break away from the petty mind? I think that is the only real problem. And I think that in breaking away from the petty mind we shall find the right answer to our economic, social and other problems. Without understanding the pettiness of ourselves, the narrow, shallow thoughts and feelings that we have - without going into that very deeply and fundamentally, merely to join societies and follow leaders who promise better health, better economic conditions, and all the rest of it, seems to me so utterly immature. Our fear may perhaps be modified, moved to another level, but inwardly we remain the same; there is still fear and the sense of frustration that goes with self-centred activity. Unless we fundamentally change that, do what we will - create the most extraordinary legislative order, bring about a Welfare State which guarantees everyone's social well-being, and all the rest of it - , inwardly we shall always remain poor. So how is the mind to break away from its own pettiness? I do not know if you have ever thought about this, or if it is a problem to you. Perhaps you are merely concerned with improving conditions, bringing about certain reforms, establishing a better social order, and are not concerned with a radical change in human thinking. It seems to me that the real problem is whether a fundamental change comes about through outward circumstances, or through any form of compulsion, or whether it comes from a totally different direction. If we rely on any form of compulsion, on outward changes in the social order, on so-called education, which is the mere gathering of information, and so on, surely our lives will still be shallow. We may know a great deal about many things, we may be able to quote the various authorities and be very learned in the expression of our thought; but our minds will be as petty as before, with the same ache of deep anxiety, uncertainty, fear. So there is no fundamental transformation through outward change, or through any form of pressure, influence. Fundamental transformation comes from quite a different direction, and this is what I would like briefly to talk about, even though I have already talked about it a great deal during the last five meetings; because it seems to me that this is the only real issue. So long as we ourselves are confused, small, petty, whatever our activity may be, and whatever concept we may have of truth, of God, of beauty or love, our thinking and our action are bound to be equally petty, confused, limited. A confused mind can only think in terms of confusion. A petty mind can never imagine what God is, what truth is; and yet that is what we are occupied with. So it seems to me important to discover whether the mind can transform itself without any compulsion, without any motive. The moment there is compulsion, the mind is already conforming to a pattern. If there is a motive for change, that motive is self-projected; therefore the change, being a product of self-centred activity, is no change at all. It seems to me that this is the real thing which we have fundamentally to tackle, put our teeth into - and not whom to follow, who is the best leader, and all that rubbish. The question is, can the mind, without any form of compulsion, without a motive, bring about a transformation within itself? A motive is bound to be the result of self-centred desire, and such a motive is self-enclosing; therefore there is no freedom, there is no transformation of the mind. So, can the mind break away from all influence and from all motive? And is not this very breaking away from all influence and from all motive in itself a transformation of the mind? Do you follow what I mean? You see, we must abandon this in which we are caught - the world of authority, of power, of influence, or, the world of conditioning, of fear, of ambition and envy - if we are to find the other world. We must let this world go, let it die in us without compulsion, without motive; because any motive will be a mere repetition of the same thing in different terms. I think just to look at the problem, just to comprehend the problem, brings its own answer. I see that, as a human being, I am the result of innumerable activity influences, social compulsions, religious impressions, and that if I try to find reality, truth, or God, that very search will be based on the things I have been taught, shaped by what I have known, conditioned by my education and by the influences of the environment in which I live. So, can I be free of all that? To be free, I must first know for myself that my mind is conditioned, I must be fully aware that I am not really a human being, but a Hindu, a Catholic, a German, a Protestant, a Communist, a Socialist, or whatever it may be. I am born with a label; and this, or some other label of my own choosing, sticks to me for the rest of my life. I am born and die in one religion, or I change from one religion to another, and I think I have understood reality, God; but I have only perpetuated the conditioned mind, the label. Now, can I, as a human being, put all that away from me without any compulsion? I think it is very important to understand that any effort made to free oneself from one's conditioning, is another form of conditioning. If I try to free myself from Hinduism, or any other ism, I am making that effort in order to achieve what I consider to be a more desirable state; therefore the motive to change conditions the change. So I must realize my own conditioning, and do absolutely nothing. This is very difficult. But I must know for myself that my mind is small, petty, confused, conditioned, and see that any effort to change it is still within the field of that confusion; therefore any such effort only breeds further confusion. I hope I am making this clear. If your mind is confused, as the minds of most people are, then your thought, your action, and your choice of a leader, will also be confused. But if you know that you are confused, and realize that any effort born of that confusion can only bring still further confusion, then what happens? If you are fundamentally, deeply aware of that fact, then you will see quite a different process at work. It is not the process of effort; there is no wanting to break through your confusion. You know that you are totally confused, and therefore there is the cessation of all thinking. This is a very difficult thing to comprehend, because we are so certain that thinking, rationalizing, logical reasoning, can resolve our problems. But we have never really examined the process of thinking. We assume that thinking will solve our problems, but we have never gone into the whole issue of what thinking is. So long as I remain a Hindu, a Christian, or what you will, my thinking must be shaped by that pattern; therefore my thinking, my whole response to life, is conditioned. So long as I think as an Indian, a German, or whatever it is, and act according to that petty, nationalistic background, it inevitably leads to separation, to hatred, to war and misery. So we have to inquire into the whole problem of thinking. There is no freedom of thought, because all thought is conditioned. There is freedom only when I understand that all thought is conditioned, and am therefore free of that conditioning -which mean, really, that there is no thought at all, no thinking in terms of Catholic, Hindu, Buddhist, German, or what you will, but pure observation, complete attention. In this, I think, lies the real revolution in the immense understanding that thought does not solve the problem of existence. Which does not mean that you must become thoughtless. On the contrary. To understand the process of thinking requires, not acceptance or denial, but intense inquiry. When the mind under - stands the whole process of itself, there is then a fundamental revolution, a radical change, which is not brought about through conscious effort. It is an effortless state, out of which comes a total transformation. But this transformation is not of time. It is not a thing about which you can say to yourself" It will come eventually; I must work at it, I must do this and not that." On the contrary, the moment you introduce time as a factor of change, there is no real change at all. The immeasurable is not of this world, it is not put together by the mind; because what the mind has put together, the mind can undo. To understand the immeasurable, which is to enter into a different world altogether, we must understand this world in which we live, this world which we have created and of which we are a part: the world of ambition, greed, envy, hatred, the world of separation, fear and lust. That means we must understand ourselves, the unconscious as well as the conscious, and this is not very difficult if you set your mind to it. If you really want to know the totality of your own being, you can easily discover it. It reveals itself in every relationship, at every moment - when you are entering the bus, getting a taxi, or talking to someone. But most of us are not concerned with that, because it requires serious endeavour, persistent inquiry. Most of us are very superficial; we are easily satisfied with such words as `God', `love', `beauty'. We call ourselves Christians, Buddhists, or Hindus, and think we have solved the whole problem. We must shed all that, let it drop away completely; and it will drop away only when we begin to know ourselves deeply. It is only through understanding ourselves that we shall find something which is beyond all measure. These are not mere words for you to learn and repeat. What you repeat will have no meaning unless you directly experience this. If you do not have your own direct understanding of it, the world of effort and sorrow, of misery and chaos, will continue. Question: You talk so much against the church and organized religion. Have they not done a lot of good in this world? Krishnamurti: I am not talking against the church and organized religion. It is up to you. Personally I do not belong to any church or organized religion, because to me they have no meaning; and I think that if you are earnestly seeking what is real, you will have to put all those things aside - which does not mean that I am attacking. If you attack, you have to defend; but we are neither attacking nor defending. But We are trying to understand this whole problem of existence, in which the church and organized religions are included. I do not think any organized religion helps man to find God, truth. They may condition you to believe in God, as the Communist mind is conditioned not to believe in God; but I do not see much difference between the two. The man who says "I believe in God", and who has been trained from childhood to believe in God, is in the same field as the man who says "I do not believe in God", and who has also been conditioned to repeat this kind of nonsense. But a man who wants to find out, begins to inquire for himself. He does not merely accept some authority, some book or saviour. If he is really in earnest, pursuing understanding in his daily thoughts, in his whole way of life, he abandons all belief and disbelief. He is an inquirer, a real seeker, without any motive; he is on a journey of discovery, single, alone. And when he finds, life has quite a different significance. Then perhaps he may be able to help others to be free. The questioner wants to know if the organized religions have not done good. Have they? I believe there is only one organized religion which has not brought misery to man through war - and it is obviously not Christianity. You have had more wars, perhaps, than any other religion - all in the name of peace, love, goodness, freedom. You have probably suffered more than most people the terrors of war and degradation - with both sides always claiming that God is with them. You know all this so well, without my repetition. I think it is we who have made this world what it is. The world has not been made by wisdom, by truth, by God; we have made it, you and I. And until you and I fundamentally change, no organized religion is going to do good to man. They may socially do good, bring about superficial reform. But it has taken centuries to civilize religions, and it will take centuries to civilize Communism. A man who is really in earnest must be free from all these things. He must go beyond all the saviours, all the gods and demagogues, to find out what is true. Question: Will self-knowledge put a end to suffering, which apparently necessitates the soul taking birth over and over again? Krishnamurti: The idea is that so long as you have to suffer, you must be reborn, till you transcend suffering. That is the old Hindu, Buddhist, or Asiatic idea. They say you must return to the earth, be reborn over and over again and continue to suffer, till you understand the whole process of suffering and step out of it. In one way it is true, is it not? Our life is suffering. Year after year, from the time we are born till we die, our life is a process of struggle, suffering, pain, anxiety, fear. We know this all too well. It is a form of continuity - the continuity of suffering, is it not? Whether you will be reborn, to suffer again till you understand, is irrelevant. You do suffer now, within the present lifetime. And can we put an end to suffering, not at some future date, but immediately, and not think in terms of time? I think it is possible. Not that you must accept what I say, because acceptance has no validity. But can one not begin to inquire for oneself whether suffering can come to an end? I am talking of psychological suffering, not the bodily aches and pains -although if we understand the psychological state of the mind, it may perhaps help to ameliorate our physical suffering also. So, can suffering come to an end? Or is man doomed to suffer everlastingly - not in the Christian sense of hellfire and all that rubbish, but in the ordinary sense? After all, fifty years or so of suffering is good enough. You don't have to speculate about the future. If we begin to inquire into it, I think we shall find that suffering exists so long as there is ignorance of the whole process of one's own being. So long as I do not know myself, the ways and compulsions of my own mind, unconscious as well as conscious, there must be suffering. After all, we suffer because of ignorance -ignorance in the sense of not knowing oneself. Ignorance is also a lack of understanding of the ordinary daily contacts between man and man, and out of that ignorance comes much suffering also; but I am talking of our utter lack of self-knowledge. Without self-knowledge, suffering will continue. Question: Is it possible to influence the thinking of mankind in the right direction by suitable thoughts and meditation? Krishnamurti: I think this is one of the most extraordinary concerns of man - the desire to influence somebody else. That is what you are all doing, is it not? You are trying to influence your son, your daughter, your husband, your wife, everybody around you - thinking that you know, and the other does not. It is a form of vanity. Really, what do you know? Very little, surely. You may be a great scientist and know a lot of facts; you may know many things that have been written in books, you may know about philosophy and psychology - but these are all merely the acquisitions of memory. And beyond that, what do you know? Yet you want to influence people in the right direction. That is what the Communists are doing. They think they know; they interpret history in a certain way, as the church does, and they all want to influence people. And they jolly well are influencing people - putting them in concentration camps, trapping them with threats of hellfire, excommunication, and all the rest of it. You know all this business - which is supposed to be influencing people in the right direction. Those who do the influencing think they know what the right direction is. They all claim to have the vision of what is true. The Communists claim it, and in the case of the church it is supposed to be God-given. And you want to join one or the other of them, through `right thinking', as you call it. But first of all, do you know what thinking is? Can there ever be right thinking so long as the mind is conditioned, so long as you are thinking of yourself as a Christian, a Communist, or what you will? Surely the whole idea of trying to influence people is totally wrong. Then you may ask, "What are you trying to do?" I assure you I am not trying to influence you. I am pointing out certain obvious things, which perhaps you have not thought about before - and the rest is up to you. There is no `good' influence or 'bad' influence when you are seeking what is true. To find out for oneself what is true, all influence must cease. There is no `good' conditioning or `bad' conditioning - there is only freedom from all conditioning. So the idea of trying to influence another for his 'good' seems to me utterly immature, completely false. Then there is this problem of meditation, which the questioner raises. It is a very complex problem, and I do not know if you want to go into it. Unless we know for ourselves what meditation is, and how to meditate, life has very little depth. Without meditation there is no perfume to life, no beauty, no love. Meditation is a tremendous thing, requiring a great deal of insight, perception. One may know that state, one may feel it occasionally. When one is sitting very quietly in one's room, or under a tree looking at the blue sky, there comes a feeling of immensity without measure, without comparison, without cognition. But that is entirely different from the things that you have learned about meditation. You have probably read various books from India, telling how to meditate, and so you want to learn a technique in order to meditate. The very process of learning a technique in order to meditate, is a denial of meditation. Meditation is something entirely different. It is not the outcome of any practice, of any discipline, of any compulsion or conformity. But if you begin to understand the process of conformity, of compulsion, the desire to achieve, to gain something, then the understanding of all that is part of meditation. Self-knowledge - which is to know the ways of your own thought, and to pursue thought right to the end - is the beginning of meditation. It is very difficult to pursue a thought to the end, because other thoughts come in, and then we say we must learn concentration. But concentration is not important. Any child is capable of concentration - give him a new toy and he is concentrated. Every business man is concentrated when he wants to make money. Concentration, which we think we should have in order to meditate, is really narrowness, a process of limitation, exclusion. So when you put the question, "How am I to meditate?", what is important is to understand why you ask `how'. If you go into it, you will find that this very inquiry is meditation. But that is only a beginning. In meditation there is no thinker apart from thought; there is neither the pursuer nor the pursued. It is a state of being in which there is no sense of the experiencer. But to come to that state, the mind must really understand the whole process of itself. If it does not understand itself it will get caught in its own projection, in a vision which it has created; and to be caught in a vision is not meditation. Meditation is the process of understanding oneself; that is the beginning of it. Self-knowledge brings wisdom. And as the mind begins to understand the whole process of itself, it becomes very quiet, completely still, without any sense of movement or demand. Then, perhaps, that which is not measurable comes into being. September 16, 1956 ATHENS, GREECE 1ST PUBLIC TALK 24TH SEPTEMBER 1956 I do not think that the social problem can be separated from the individual problem; and to resolve the social as well as the individual problem, surely one must begin with oneself. If one wants to bring about a fundamental change in society, it seems to me that it is first necessary to bring about a fundamental change in oneself. So I am going to talk this evening, and at the next two meetings, about those problems which I feel are fundamental to the individual, and which reflect in our social activities; and I hope you will understand that I am talking to you as an individual, and not as a collective group. It seems to me that it is very important for the individual to bring about a fundamental, unforced revolution or transformation within himself. Considering the many problems that we have, not only in this country but all over the world, I think that the right response to them can come about only if there is a totally different kind of religion, a wholly new approach. The world is broken up, as we can see only too well, into conflicting ideologies, competing religions, and various forms of social culture. There is not only the Communist ideology, but the many religious ideologies, all of which separate man from man. So it seems to me very important that we should try to bring about a different kind of world, a different view of life altogether, so that we can have a totally new comprehension of religion. I do not mean by religion an organized set of beliefs, but something which is totally different from that which exists everywhere at present. Because, after all, religion is a fundamental necessity for man - more so, it seems to me, than bread. And what I mean by religion is the discovery of the fundamental solution, the ultimate answer to all our major problems. I do not mean by religion a mere belief, a dogma, nor following a certain ecclesiastical authority - which is what is called religion today. But is it not possible for something else to take place? Is it not possible for the mind to be totally free from the vast tradition of centuries? Because it is only a free mind that can discover truth, reality, that which is beyond the projections of a conditioned mind. That is why I think that the unconditioned mind is the only truly religious mind, and that only the truly religious mind is capable of a fundamental revolution. Our life, both in our work and during our free time, leads to a very superficial relationship between man and man, does it not? It is a false life. And I feel that a fundamental change depends upon understanding what is true, and not upon belief in any religious dogma or spiritual authority. If you feel really deeply the need to be aware of what is true, then you will see that every form of belief or dogma is a hindrance. We are, after all, brought up to believe in certain ideas, whether of the Communist world, of the Western world, or of the Eastern world; we have accepted established beliefs, and to free ourselves from this conditioning is not easy. But surely it is impossible, under any circumstances, to find out what is true, what is God, so long as one merely believes in certain ideas, certain concepts which man has himself created for his own security. If I am born in India, for instance, and am educated in a certain sphere of thought, subjected to certain influences and pressures, my mind is obviously conditioned; it is as conditioned to believe as the Communist mind is conditioned not to believe. And if I would find out what is true, what is God, what is beyond the mere measure of the mind, surely I must free my mind from this conditioning - which seems so obvious. And is it possible for the mind to free itself from its conditioning? That, it seems to me, is the only realistic approach. If the Hindu merely continues to repeat certain words and perform certain ceremonies because he has been brought up in that way, and the Christians, the Buddhists, and others do likewise, then surely there is no freedom; and without freeing the mind from all conditioning, we cannot find out what is true. To me, this freedom of the mind from all conditioning is therefore the only real solution. So, first of all, it is very important to become aware of our conditioning. And I assure you it is extremely difficult to realize that one is conditioned, and be free of all conditioning. What usually happens is that we move away from one set of concepts to follow another. We give up Christianity for Communism, or we leave Catholicism for some other equally tyrannical group, thinking that we are progressing towards reality; but we have merely changed our prison. Surely, what is important is to free the mind from all conditioning, and not just find a so-called better conditioning. Only freedom from all conditioning can bring about this revolution which I call religious. I am talking about an inner revolution, a revolution within the mind itself, whether it be a Christian mind, a Hindu mind, or a Buddhist mind; for without this revolution, this freedom, surely there can be no deep understanding. I think this is fairly clear: that the mind can find out what is true only when it is free of all beliefs, however apparently good and noble. Economic or social revolutions do not solve our problems, because, being superficial, they can only bring about superficial results. When we look to outward reforms to bring about a fundamental change, it is surely a wrong approach to the problem. We obviously need a fundamental change in our way of thinking and feeling; and to rely on any social or economic solution only brings further problems on the same level. So the solution to all our problems, it seems to me, lies in bringing about a fundamental, religious revolution in ourselves. This really means, does it not?, finding out whether the mind can free itself from all the impositions, from the ambitions, the beliefs and dogmas in which at present it feels so secure. Can the mind -your mind and my mind - , which has been conditioned from childhood to believe or not to believe, free itself from all its present conditioning without falling into a different kind of conditioning? The problem is complicated, because it is not merely a matter of freeing the conscious mind from its conditioning. Besides the waking consciousness of our daily activities, there are also the deep layers of the unconscious, in which there are the accumulated influences of the past. All these hindrances make up the conditioning of the mind, and unless it is totally free from them our inquiry is bound to be limited, narrow, without much significance. Merely to drop certain beliefs or daily habits does not solve the problem. There must be a change, not in just a part of our consciousness, but in the totality of our being, must there not? Now, how is this to be done? That is our problem. Is there a particular technique or method which will bring about a fundamental revolution in one's consciousness? We see that necessity for a radical change, and by following a method, a technique, we hope to bring it about. But is there any method that can bring it about? Or does the very action of seeking a method, the very desire to find the `how', create another conditioning of the mind? I think it is very important, instead of merely desiring a method, to find out for ourselves whether a method is necessary at all; and to find out, we shall have to go very deeply into this question. After all, when we ask for a method, it is because we want a result; but the desired result is a projection of the conditioned mind, and in pursuing it the mind is merely moving towards another form of conditioning. First of all we must inquire, must we not? Why we are seeking, and what it is we are seeking. We know that we go from one teacher to another. Each teacher offers a different method of discipline or meditation - and all that is so absurd. What is important, surely, is not the teacher and what he offers, but to find out what it is you are seeking. By delivering yourself into the hands of another, by following some authority, by practising a discipline, controlling yourself, sooner or later you will find what you want; but it will not be the truth. The following of any method only perpetuates conditioning, perhaps in a new form, and so the mind is never free to understand what is true. Now, if one really perceives that the very demand for a method - whether it be the Buddhist method, the Christian method, or any other - is only another form of conditioning which prevents the mind from finding the truth, then what is one to do? One can understand superficially, perhaps, that dependence on authority, however promising, is detrimental to the discovery of what is true; but it is very difficult, is it not?, to free ourselves from all dependence on authority, whether it be the authority of the church, of society, or the authority which one has created for oneself through one's own experience. If you are serious in these matters, if you are really trying to find out whether the mind can free itself from authority, you will know how difficult it is. Yet the mind must be free from authority, obviously, otherwise it can never find out what is true. We depend on authority because, among other things, we are afraid of not attaining salvation; and the mind that is dependent cannot know the immeasurable, that which is beyond all churches, all dogmas and beliefs. There must be total freedom, which means that the mind must be capable of standing completely alone. So, can the mind completely free itself from fear, from the dictates of society and so-called religious beliefs? Surely, if one really desires to find the truth, one must be totally free from all conditioning, from all dogmas and beliefs, from the authorities that make us conform. One must stand completely alone - and that is very arduous. It is not a matter of going out into the country on a Sunday morning, sitting quietly under a tree, and so on. The aloneness of which I am speaking is pure, incorruptible; it is free of all tradition, of all dogma and opinion, of everything that another has said. When the mind is in this state of aloneness, it is quiet, essentially still, not asking for anything; and such a mind is capable of knowing what is true. Otherwise we are ever burdened with fear, which creates so much conflict and confusion in us and in the world. So the religious revolution of which I am speaking can come about only when the mind is free from all the so-called religions, with their dogmas and beliefs, and from self-created inward authority. And there can be this freedom, surely, only through self-knowledge. But self-knowledge cannot be found in books; it is not a matter ofreading psychology, or following the description of another as to what the self is made up of. Self-knowledge comes only in understanding oneself, in watching the movement of one's own mind in relationship with people, with things, and with ideas; it lies in being aware of the whole content of the mind, in observing the total operation of one's consciousness from moment to moment. I shall now read a question which has been sent to me; but I think we must all understand that I am not answering the question, but rather we are considering the problem together. Most of us have problems, and want to solve them. Whatever the problem may be, we want an answer or a solution which will be satisfactory to us. That is, we are concerned with the answer, the solution, and not with the problem. Our attention is divided; with one part of the mind we are seeking a solution, Instead of trying with the totality of our being to understand the problem. The solution may or may not come; but to understand the problem, our concern must be with the problem itself, and not with the solution. Question: What makes up a problem? And is any problem solved by dissecting it and finding its cause? Krishnamurti: What is a problem? Please do not just wait for an answer from me. You are not merely listening to someone talking, but we are trying to find out together what creates a problem. You each have your own problems. How do they come into being? We have contradictory desires, do we not? I want to be rich, let us say, and at the same-time I know or have heard that wealth is detrimental to the discovery of truth. So there is a contradiction in my desires - the contradiction of wanting and not wanting. It is this conflict of contradictory desires in us that creates a problem, is it not? We have many contradictory desires, many conflicting pursuits, ambitions, urges, and all these contradictions create a problem. Now, can the mind ever resolve the problem of self-contradiction by imposing one desire on another? Take hatred, for example. What causes hatred? Surely, one of the biggest factors is chauvinism; another is the sense of superiority or inferiority created by economic differences; still another is the division created between man and man by what are called religions. These are the principal causes of hatred, and they give rise to many other major problems in the world today. Knowing all this, can the individual free himself from hatred? This is where our difficulty lies, and if you will listen carefully I think you will see it. When I say "I know the cause of hatred", what do I mean by the words "I know"? Do I know it merely through the word, the intellect, or do I know it with the totality of my being? Am I aware of the root of hatred in myself, or do I know its cause only intellectually or emotionally? If the mind is totally aware of the problem, then there is freedom from the problem; but I cannot be aware of it with the totality of my being if I condemn the problem. It is very difficult for the mind not to condemn; but to understand a problem there must be no condemning of that problem, no comparing of it with another problem. I do not think we realize that we are all the time either condemning or comparing. Let us not try to excuse ourselves, but just watch our daily life, and we shall see that we never think without judging, comparing, evaluating. We are always saying "This book is not as good as the other one", or "This man is better than that man; there is a constant process of comparison, through which we think we understand. But do we really understand through comparison? Or does understanding come only when one ceases to compare, and just observes? When your mind is integrated, you have no time to compare, have you? But the moment you compare, your attention has already moved elsewhere. When you say "This sunset is not as beautiful as that of yesterday", you do not really see the sunset, for your mind has wandered off to the memory of yesterday. When the mind is capable of not condemning, not comparing, but merely examines the problem, then surely the problem has undergone a fundamental change; and then the problem ceases. Simple awareness is enough to put an end to the problem. What do we mean by awareness? If you observe your own mind you will see that it is always comparing, judging, condemning. When we condemn or compare, do we understand? If we condemn a child, or compare him with his brother, obviously we do not understand him. So, can the mind be simply aware of a problem, without condemning or comparing? This is extremely difficult, because from childhood we have been brought up to condemn and to compare. And can the mind cease to condemn and compare without being compelled? Surely, when the mind sees for itself that to condemn or to compare does not bring about understanding, then that very perception frees the mind from all condemnation and comparison. This means a complete separation of the mind from all traditions and beliefs. To free one's mind in this deep sense requires a great deal of insight, because the mind is very easily influenced. It is always seeking security, not only in this world, in society, but also in the so-called spiritual world. If you go into the whole process of your own mind, you will see that this is so; and a mind that is seeking security can never be free. To observe the total process of the mind without condemnation or comparison, to be conscious of it without judgement,to recognize and understand it from moment to moment - this is awareness, is it not? You have listened to what is being said, and probably you either approve or disapprove of it, which means that you accept or reject it. But we are not just dealing with ideas, which can be accepted or rejected; we are not putting new ideas in the place of old ones. We are concerned with the totality of the mind, the totality of yourself, of your whole being, which cannot be approached through ideas. Please do not accept or reject, but try to find out, as you listen, how your own mind is operating. Then you will see that the mere observation of the process of the mind is in itself sufficient to bring about a fundamental transformation within the mind. We see that there must be in us a radical change, and we think that we have to make an effort to bring it about. But any effort in that direction is merely another form of wanting a result, so we are back again in the same old process. What is necessary, surely, is not more control, more knowledge, but rather awareness of the totality of oneself, without any sense of condemnation or approval. Then you will find that the mind is renewed and absolutely still. For this an exceptional amount of energy is required; but it is not energy spent in the usual way, on comparison, on suppression, on the imposition of discipline, nor is it the energy acquired through prayer. It is the energy that comes with full attention. Every movement of thought in any direction is a waste of energy, and to be completely still the mind needs the energy of absolute attention. When the mind is alert, aware, wholly attentive, it becomes very quiet, very still; and only then is it possible for that which is immeasurable to come into being. September 24, 1956 ATHENS, GREECE 2ND PUBLIC TALK 26TH SEPTEMBER 1956 Communication is always difficult, because in communicating we must employ words, and certain words have different meanings for different people; and I think it is very difficult for most of us to go beyond the words and feel out for ourselves the full significance of what lies beyond. There are words which have not only a dictionary meaning, but more than that; our minds are heavily conditioned to them. Take words like `love' and `God'. Such words have come to have a particular meaning for each one of us, and they affect us in different ways, physiologically as well as psychologically. We accept such words very easily, because we have been brought up to, believe in what they represent. But what they represent for most of us is very restricted and superficial, and it will be a waste of time if we merely remain at the threshold of the meaning of words. To follow what is being communicated and not be misled by words, requires a particular kind of attention, and this attention is difficult to come by. Most of us are satisfied with a certain set of words or phrases which we have often heard and which we repeat. But perhaps this evening we could go beyond the words and feel out for ourselves the significance of what is being said. Because after all, in these talks, we are not merely trying to express certain ideas, however pleasant or unpleasant, but if possible to go beyond the meaning of words and experience a new state which we all feel must exist. Understanding depends on the way one listens. As we listen, are we discussing inwardly what is being said, interpreting it according to our individual opinions, knowledge and idiosyncrasies? Or are we simply listening, without any movement of adjustment or interpretation? There are two ways of listening. One can listen merely to the words, see their usual significance and understand only their outward meaning; or one can listen to the verbal exposition, and follow it inwardly - that is, understand what is being described as one's own experience. So may I suggest, if this experiment is to be useful and worthwhile, that we should not merely listen to the words, but in listening examine if we can the very process of our own thinking. We are trying to find out what is the real process of life, and what lies behind the superficial activities of our daily existence. If we would really experience what we are talking about, it must be done directly, now; it is of no value to wait and think about it afterwards. That is, if you are taking notes, trying to capture certain phrases in order to think about all this afterwards, it will be of no value, because you will merely be remembering words. To discover for yourself the significance of your own thinking, you must directly examine how you think and actually experience the whole process of it. Because it seems to me that thought is not going to solve our many problems; however reasonable, however clever, logical, thinking surely will not put an end to our ceaseless conflict. Not that you must accept this statement; but can we find out for ourselves what thinking is? Please examine your own thought process as I am talking, and ask yourself what thinking is. Thinking is a process or reaction, is it not? It is a reaction according to our background, according to the environment in which we live and have been brought up; and without understanding this background, we shall never find out whether it is possible for the mind to go beyond the process of its own activities. What happens when we think? Without realizing it, the mind divides itself, and then one section of the mind investigates the other, giving an answer out of its own accumulated experience, or according to the accepted experiences of others. This effort makes up what we call thinking, and the resulting answer is but the projection of a conditioned mind. Surely our problems demand quite a different approach, they demand a really new psychological outlook; but we must understand the process of our own thinking before we can go beyond thought. That is why it is important to inquire for ourselves into how our thinking begins, and where it stops; because if we do not understand the activity of our own thought, we shall only create more problems, and perhaps bring about our own destruction. When we think, we do so within a framework which society has imposed on us, or which we ourselves have adopted; and it seems to me that so long as we think within a framework, our problems, whether social or individual, will remain unsolved. I feel it is very important that you and I as two individuals, not as a group, should investigate for ourselves the process of our own thinking. Is there freedom in thinking, or is all thought limited? If you look into yourself, you will see that all thinking is conditioned. The mind, the conscious as well as the unconscious, is the result of time, of memory; it is the residue of various cultures, of centuries of knowledge and experience. The totality of consciousness is made up of thought; and thought, surely, derives from this residue of the past, both individual and collective. So our thinking is obviously conditioned. If we examine ourselves we shall see that our consciousness is the outcome of many influences: climate, diet, various forms of authority the do's and dont's of society, and of the religion in which we have been brought up, the books we have read, the reactions we have felt, and so on. All these influences condition and shape the mind, and from this background comes our thought. Furthermore, our thinking is based on hope, on fear, on the desire to become something, all of which is encouraged and stimulated by the competitive society in which we have been brought up. So all thinking is conditioned, it is merely a process of reaction according to the past; and the question is, can such thinking solve our many problems? I hope you are giving close attention to all this, otherwise you will miss the significance of it. There is no unlimited thinking, thinking is always limited; and to find out what lies beyond thought, thought must first come to an end. After all, being limited, prejudiced, shaped by society, how can thought inquire into something which is measureless? If I want to find out what love is, for example, how shall I proceed? Shall I think about it, read what has been said in the Bible, in the sacred books, or by some priest? Surely, to find out what love is, I must first see whether my mind is conditioned by the idea which society calls `love', or by organized religion - which preaches love, but which has actually destroyed human beings. Because it is only when my mind is free from all conditioning that I shall be able to find out what love is. In the same way, to find out if there is truth, if there is God, my mind must be free from all the beliefs and prejudices in which it has been brought up. So to discover something true, not conditioned, not contaminated, you must in one sense cease to think. I hope you understand what I mean. After all, if you have beliefs, if you hold on to certain ideas, they are obviously going to interfere with your listening to what is being said. In order to experience something real, something which is not merely an opposite, the mind must free itself from its own beliefs and be completely still. Having been brought up in a certain society, educated according to a particular ideology, with its dogmas and traditions, the mind is conditioned; and any movement of the mind to free itself, being the result of that conditioning, only leads to still further conditioning. The mind can free itself only when it is completely alone. Even though it is burdened with problems, with innumerable tendencies, conflicts, ambitions, through awareness without condemnation or acceptance the mind can begin to understand its own functioning; and then an extraordinary silence comes about, a stillness in which there is no movement of thought. Then the mind is free, because it is no longer desiring anything, no longer asking for anything, it is no longer anchored to an ideology or aiming at a purpose - all of which are merely the projections of a conditioned mind. Unless you undergo this actual experience, so that it is not merely a verbal statement which you have heard from another, life remains very superficial and sorrowful. So for those who are really serious about this matter, it seems to me that what is important is not what you believe or do not believe, but to understand the process of your own thinking. In that direct understanding of one's own thinking, a radical change in one's living will take place which is not according to any social plan or religious dogma; and only then will it be possible for the external structure of society to change also. A number of questions have been sent to me, and I shall try to go into some of them. Question: Psychoanalysts offer the panacea of analysis, asserting that by just knowing what it is all about, one is cured; but this does not always hold true. What is one to do when in spite of knowing the cause of one's trouble, one is still unable to get rid of it? Krishnamurti: You see, in this problem there is involved the analyser and the analysed. You may not go to a psychoanalyst, you may analyse yourself, but in either case there is always the analyser and the analysed. When you try to examine the unconscious, or interpret a dream, there is the examiner and the examined; and the examiner, the interpreter, analyses what he sees in terms of his own background, according to his pleasure. So there is always a division between the analyser and the analysed, with the analyser trying to reshape or control that which he has analysed. And the question is not only whether the analyser is capable of analysing, but more fundamentally whether there is actually any division between the analyser and the analysed. We have assumed that there is such a division; but is there in actuality? The analyser, surely, is also the result of our thinking. So really there is no division at all, but we have artificially created one. If we see the truth of this, if we realize the fact that the thinker is not separate from his thought, that there is only thinking and no thinker - and it is very difficult to come to that realization - , then our whole approach to the problem of inner conflict changes. After all, if you do not think, where is the thinker? The qualities of thinking, the memory of various experiences together with the desire to be secure, to be permanent, have created the thinker apart from thinking. We say that thinking is passing, but that the thinker is permanent. You may call the thinker permanent, enduring, divine, or anything else you like, but in reality there is no thinker, but only the process of thinking. And if there is only thinking, and not a thinker who thinks, then, without a thinker, an analyser, how shall we solve our problem? Am I explaining the matter clearly, or only complicating it? Perhaps it is not very clear because you are merely listening to my words, you are not directly experiencing the thing. There is a great difference between having a toothache and listening to the description of a toothache, is there not? And I am afraid something of that sort is what is happening now. You are merely listening to the description, hoping to find a way to solve your problems. Briefly, what I am saying is this: if you once fully understand that there is only thinking and no thinker, then there is a tremendous revolution in your whole approach to life; because in experiencing for yourself that there is only thinking, and not a thinker who must control thought, you have at one stroke removed the very source of conflict. It is the division between the thinker and the thought that creates conflict; and if one is capable of removing that division, there is no problem. Question: What would happen to the world if all men and women were to arrive at a state so far removed from attachment to a definite person that marriage and love affairs became unnecessary? Krishnamurti: Is not the questioner putting a very hypothetical question? Should we not rather ask ourselves whether there is love when there is attachment? Our attachments are based on mutual satisfaction, mutual support, are they not? Each one needs the companionship of another. So instead of asking this theoretical question, I think it is important to find out if there is love at all when there is attachment. Is there love when we are attached, when we possess somebody? And why are we attached? To really go into it, to inquire why one is attached, not only to a man or a woman, but to children, to ideas, to property, and find out for oneself if it is possible to be free of all possessing and possessiveness - this, I think, demands a great deal of hard inner work. If you were not attached, what would happen? You would be at a loss, would you not? We are attached because in ourselves we are insufficient, psychologically dependent, and therein lies our misery. Question: How is one to deal with a very small child if one is to avoid influencing him in any way? Krishnamurti: Why does one try not to influence a small child? Let us consider. Are we not all influenced? You are influenced by climate, by society, by the food you eat, by the papers you read -you are influenced by everything around you. It is not a matter of good or bad influence - we are considering influence itself. What you call a good influence, another society might call bad or false. What is important, I think, is to understand the whole problem of influence, and then perhaps we shall approach differently the education of the child. We know that we are being influenced in some degree by everything around us; and is it possible to be free from the influences which are strongly or subtly impressing us, dominating us? To be free of such influences, we must be aware, must we not?, of the many factors which create them. Take, for instance, the influence of the flag, of the nation, of the word `patriotism'. We accept that influence all over the world, for every school, every government is sedulously conditioning us to accept it; and that is one of the basic causes of war, because it separates man from man. So can we, the grown-up people, free ourselves from this influence? If we can, then perhaps we shall be able to help the child to be free. But to be free from this particular influence demands a great deal of insight, understanding, for there is the possibility that you may be ostracized, you may lose your job, and you will be a nobody in society. Let us take another example. Whether we live as of the world, or try to be religious, most of us are ambitious. We can see that ambition is destructive, but socially and religiously we accept it. The ambitious man can never love, because he is concerned with himself and his success - success in the name of God, in the name of family, in the name of country. The worship of success is also an influence throughout the world, is it not? And can one free oneself from this influence? Can you as an individual do it? Do not say "If I am not ambitious I shall be crushed by society". If you really see the truth that ambition is destructive and deeply understand the whole process of influence, you will be a different person; and then perhaps you will be able to help the child to understand and be free of all influence. Question: Is it possible to live without any attachment? Krishnamurti: Instead of asking this question, why don't you find out? And to ask "How am I to become detached?" is another false question, Find out to what you are attached and why. You are attached to your family, to your property, to your name, to your beliefs and ideas, to your business - to a dozen things. To be free from this attachment, you must first be aware that you are attached, and not merely ask if it is possible to live without attachment; you must experience the fact that you are attached, and understand why. You are attached, for instance, to the idea of God, of truth, or to some belief or ideal, because without that concept and the feeling it evokes, your life would be empty, miserable; you would have nothing to rely on. So your attachment is a form of drug; and knowing the fundamental reason for attachment, you then try to cultivate detachment, which is still another escape. That is why it is very important to study the process of one's whole being, and not merely try to clarify what to believe and what not to believe, which is all so superficial. The key to freedom lies within ourselves, but we refuse to use it. We are always asking someone else to open the door and let the light in. September, 26, 1956 ATHENS, GREECE 3RD PUBLIC TALK 30TH SEPTEMBER 1956 It seems to me that one of the most difficult problems we have to face is how to bring about a fundamental change in ourselves; and everyone who is seriously interested in these things must surely face this problem. How is the mind to bring about a change in itself which will be a revolution, and not merely a new division, another alteration, a disciplined reform? If we want to create a world that is without hatred, a world in which there is love, in which man does not turn against man, then I think it is essential that you and I as individuals should contribute to the realization of such a revolution by a fundamental transformation in ourselves. This is the subject on which I am going to talk this evening, and as it is rather complicated, I hope you will be patient enough to listen with attention. To find out if it is possible to bring about such a revolution, I think one has to begin by experimenting with oneself. In this country, as in every other, you have many troubles. Although everyone is trying to bring peace, unconsciously we go on working towards war. We desperately need peace in the world, but the fact is that we are creating still more confusion and misery. That is what happening in the world around us, and within ourselves. We have many contradictory desires, deep-rooted urges and restraining ideals which bring about conflict. We strive after harmony, but whatever we do only seems to create more confusion and less peace. Seeing all this confusion taking place around us and within ourselves, one wonders how a radical change is to be brought about. If we look into ourselves, we can see that the mind is capable of improving a part of itself but it remains only a part; and even if that one part manages to dominate all the rest, the mind will be in a state of continuous conflict. Conflict is inevitable, is it not?, so long as one part of ourselves is trying to improve or to control the other part. The conflict arises, surely, from this division in the mind. Now, is it possible to bring about a total change, and not merely a partial one? I do not know if you understand the problem, but I think it is very important to do so. Is it possible to bring about a fundamental transformation without conflict, without one part of the mind trying to dominate another part? It seems to me that this is possible only if we realize the urgency of a total change, and see the falsity of one part of ourselves, which we call `higher', striving to dominate the `lower', for surely the `higher' is still within the field of the mind, and is therefore also the outcome of conflict. To change fundamental.y, completely, without one part of the mind seeking to dominate another part and thereby creating further conflict, we must give our total attention to it. But usually we never give our full attention to anything, do we? We give only partial attention. We look at a problem of this kind through the screen of our religious beliefs and social convictions, or we give attention to it with the desire to achieve a result; therefore our attention is divided, it is never complete, whole. There can be full attention only when there is not the conflict of wanting a result, or pursuing an ideal; and it is only when the mind is capable of giving full attention that this radical change takes place within us. Most of us think we must have ideals to entice us to change; but to me ideals are a distraction from the fact, they are merely a projection of the opposite of what we really are. We hope that by clinging to an ideal we shall achieve a radical change; but the continuous effort to discipline, to control ourselves, only brings about endless conflict. Surely, a radical change can come about only when there is no effort. So long as there is any sense of achieving an ideal, of bringing about a change through compulsion, there cannot be complete attention. A person who is really concerned with transforming himself totally will have no ideals, because ideals are a distraction from the fact of what is. When you have an ideal your mind is not looking at the actual, but at what should be, and so attention is incomplete. To bring about a fundamental change, a new way of thinking. a revolution within oneself, one must understand the necessity of total attention without any distraction -which is, after all, a state of love. Love is not the product of effort, of distraction, of control according to an ideal; it is total attention in which the contradictory impulses, with all their accumulative memories, completely cease. To put it differently, what most of us are trying to do is to change through time. We think that time will give to the mind an opportunity to bring about a gradual change within itself. Being envious, we have the ideal of becoming free from envy in the future, and through time we think we shall achieve this ideal -which to me is an escape, a distraction from the actual fact. So, can one give one's total attention to the problem of envy, without any distraction? That is, can one approach the problem of envy completely anew? It is true, is it not?, that we generally move from the known to the known; and this is not a radical change, it is not a revolution. The ideal is still within the field of the known, and does not bring about a fundamental transformation. The process of changing through time is based on the principle, preached by religious teachers and sacred books, "I am this, I must become that, and the change will come about in time through discipline, control". We can see how the mind works, how it has invented various systems of discipline to control itself,but surely this process is totally false, because all forms of discipline, control, compulsion are still within the field of the known and do not contribute to a radical change. In this process of continuity, moving from yesterday through today towards tomorrow, there is no fundamental transformation. So the problem is - and I hope you are not just listening to words, but are experiencing the thing we are talking about - , can the mind come to an end without compulsion, without any form of discipline, which means that it has understood itself completely? Because that very understanding is a process of revolution. Truth or God is something totally unknown; you may imagine, you may speculate about it, you may believe it is this or that, but it is still the unknown. The mind must come to it completely stripped of the past, free of all the things it has known; and the knowledge, after all, the accumulated memories and problems of everyday existence. So if there is really to be a radical change, a fundamental transformation, the mind must move away from the known. For love is not something which you experienced yesterday and are able to recapture at will tomorrow; it is totally new, unknown. The mind, being the result of the known, of time, can never bring about a radical change within itself. Any change which it brings about can only be a superficial alteration within the field of the known. There can be a fundamental change in the mind only when the mind dies, when thinking dies - which means, really, when the self ceases to exist. This is not a system of philosophy to be conveyed by teaching. It is an inner experience to be lived, day in and day out, by the person who is seriously inquiring and who does not restrict himself to the mere repetition of phrases without meaning. Many questions have been sent in, and I cannot go into all of them in the course of a few talks; so if your particular question is not answered, you will know why. Also, I am not `answering' these questions, but we are together trying to investigate the problem. The problem is yours, and you have to find the answer within the problem itself, not away from it. Question: In what way can self-knowledge help to solve the many pressing problems of the world - for instance, starvation? Krishnamurti: Is not the world, with all its lies, its corruption, hatred and starvation, brought about by human beings? Surely the problems which exist in this country and throughout the world are the product of each one of you, because you are nationalistic; you want to be somebody, and therefore you identify yourself with the country, you consider yourself a Greek or a Christian, which gives you a sense of importance; and through your envy you have created a society based on acquisition. So to bring about a tremendous change in the world, you and I must change, must we not? We must know ourselves. Unfortunately most of us think that tyranny, politics, or various forms of legislation will solve our problems. But what the individual is, the world is, and to bring about a fundamental change you, the individual, must understand yourself; and the understanding of yourself must be complete, not just partial. Self-knowledge is the beginning of wisdom; and to know yourself is not a miracle, or something extraordinary to be learned from books. You can see yourself exactly as you are in the mirror of relationship. Nothing can live in isolation; you are related to people, to things, to ideas, to nature, and in the mirror of that relationship you can see the totality of your own being. But if you condemn what you see, then obviously you stop all inquiry and understanding. Most of us have the instinct to condemn, to compare, to judge what we see. But if you once realize that to understand something, you must not condemn it, then condemnation ceases; and through the self-knowledge which comes when there is observation without condemnation, the whole mind, the unconscious as well as the conscious, can be understood. Only then is the mind completely quiet, and therefore able to inquire further. Question: If a man has no ambition, how is he to live in this world of competition? Krishnamurti: I wonder why we are ambitious? You are ambitious in your job, in your school, in everything that of you do, are you not? Why are we envious, ambitious? Is it because there are a hundred motives encouraging us to be ambitious? Or is it that without ambition, without trying to get somewhere or to be something, we are nothing? If we were not ambitious, what would happen? We would be nobody, would we not? We would be unrecognized, have no dreams of success, of being great, and we would merely live; but just to live in that way does not seem very gratifying. So we create a competitive society in which ambition is encouraged, and anyone who wants to get rid of it is ignored by his neighbour. I am not talking of ambition only in the worldly sense. Anyone who wants to become something, whether in this world or the next, is ambitious. The priest who wishes to become a bishop, the clerk who wants to become an executive, the man who strives to have some so-called religious experience - they are all on the same level, because they are all anxious to be or to have something. Now, seeing the havoc that ambition is causing in the world today, and realizing that a man who is ambitious can have no love, the question naturally arises, is it possible to be completely free from ambition? I cannot answer for you; you will have to find out for yourself. But you see, the fact is that most of us want security, we want safety, we want guarantees; therefore we live with ambition. Such people are not serious, though they may ask serious questions. Question: What is the real meaning of brotherhood? Krishnamurti: It is fairly obvious, is it not? A man who is nationalistic, is not brotherly. Nor is he brotherly who is a communist, a socialist, a capitalist, or who belongs to a particular religion; because anyone devoted to an ideology to a system, to a belief, obviously separates himself from other men. After all, this is our world, it is yours and mine - not to live in as Greeks, or Americans, or Indians, or Russians, but as human beings. But unfortunately we have national, economic and religious barriers, and living behind these barriers we talk about brotherhood, we talk about love, peace, God. To really know what love is we must abolish all these barriers, and each one of us must begin with himself. Question: Should one give any importance to one's dreams or not? Krishnamurti: To investigate this question directly we must understand the process of our own consciousness. Consciousness is surely the totality of one's being, but we have divided it as the conscious and the unconscious. Most of us are concerned with cultivating the conscious mind, and every school, every society is busy with the same thing. Society, of which we form a part, gives great importance to the so-called education of the conscious mind, and it tries to make us efficient, capable citizens by giving us a job. Now, if you will observe yourself you will see that, while the conscious mind is concerned with your daily activities, there is at the same time a hidden activity going on in the mind, of which you are largely unconscious. You will also see that there is a division or conflict between the conscious and the unconscious mind - the unconscious being not only the hidden personal motives, but also the racial influences and the collective experience of centuries. When the conscious mind goes to sleep and is relatively quiet, the unconscious draws near, and its urges then become dreams. This is what actually happens to most of us, because during the day our conscious minds are so taken up with our superficial motives and pursuits that there is no time to receive the promptings of the unconscious. So we dream; and then the problem arises of how to interpret these dreams, so we go to specialists who interpret dreams according to their pleasure, or in terms of their so-called knowledge. It seems to me that the problem is not how to interpret dreams, but whether it is possible not to dream at all. Please do not reject this, do not drive it away. A mind that is perpetually active during the day, and unconsciously active when it is asleep, can never be creative. It is only when the mind is completely still, without movement, without action, that there is a possibility for a new state to come into being. So, can the conscious mind be in such close relationship at all times with the unconscious, during the day as well as during the night, that there is never this state of confusion which necessitates the projection of dreams? Surely, when the conscious mind already knows the movements of the unconscious, so that the unconscious has no need to project dreams for the conscious mind to interpret, then it is possible not to dream at all. That is, if you are constantly aware of your motives, of your prejudices, of your conditioning, of your fears, of your likes and dislikes - if you are aware of all this during the day, then when you sleep the mind is not everlastingly disturbed by dreams. That is why it is important to be aware of one's thinking, of one's ambition, of one's motives, urges, jealousies - not to push them aside, but to understand them completely. Then the mind is very quiet, silent, and in that silence it can be free from all its conditioning. Such a mind is a religious mind, and only such a mind is capable of receiving that which is true. The mind that seeks truth will never find it; but when the mind is completely still, without any movement, without any desire, then it is possible for the immeasurable to come into being. September 30, 1956 NEW DELHI 1ST PUBLIC TALK 10TH OCTOBER 1956 Considering the number of problems that each human being has, not only in India but throughout the world, it seems to me that what is important is to find a new approach to these many problems. But to find a new approach is very difficult for most of us, because we think with a conclusion; and to think with a conclusion is obviously not to think at all. And it is not easy, is it?, to be free from thought based on a conclusion. Most of us think of any problem, however complex it may be, as Hindus, as Christians, as Buddhists, or as Communists, which indicates that we approach the problem with a mind already made up; so the problem, which demands a totally new approach, always evades us and multiplies. Now, is it possible for human beings like you and me, as individuals, to be free from all conclusions, from any thought which is conditioned, psychologically shaped and controlled by society, by so-called culture? I don't know if you have thought about it at all but surely the question is not how to resolve our many problems; rather it is how to understand the problem, whatever it be. We have many problems in life, not only economic and social, but also the problem of death and whether there is immortality, the problem of whether there is a reality, God, or what you will; and it seems to me that we can understand and resolve these problems only if we are able to approach them, not with a divided mind, but a mind that is totally integrated. There lies, I think, our whole difficulty. How is it possible to approach these many issues with a mind that is cleansed of all the obstructions, of all the prejudices, of all the religious conclusions and psychological pressures which have been inflicted upon it through the ages? The problem, surely, is never old, it varies and is constantly in movement; but our minds are static, they are already made up, already shaped, conditioned by our past thoughts, fears and hopes. So we invariably approach our problems with a mind that has already concluded; and I think the whole issue lies in being able to free the mind from all conclusions, because any thinking that starts with a conclusion is no thinking at all. If I think as a Hindu, obviously my thought is not vital; it starts with an assumption, which has no validity, and tries to solve the complex problems of existence through the screen of a particular conclusion, prejudice, or idea. Is it possible, then, to free the mind from ideation? Because these talks are not going to be an exchange of ideas. I am not going to put forward a new philosophy, a new set of ideas, dogmas, doctrines. To me, all these - beliefs, ideas, dogmas, doctrines - are impediments to the perception of what is true, and if you are expecting a new set of ideas with which to confront the swift movement of life, I am afraid you will not only be disappointed but also confused. Whereas, if we can together think out the problem anew, not as Hindus, Moslems, Buddhists, Communists, or Christians, nor as the one who knows and the one who does not know, which is really absurd, but as individual human beings who are trying to solve the problem of existence, then I think these talks will be worth while. Because there is fundamentally only one problem, which is the whole process of existence - not a religious as opposed to a mundane existence, nor a spiritual existence as opposed to that of society. The many human problems which confront us are becoming more and more complex, more and more vitally destructive, bringing great sorrow, not only to individuals but to the collective life of peoples; and if we are to approach this whole process of existence with an integrated outlook, there must be a vital change in our thinking. Surely that is obvious, is it not? If I think as a Communist, my thinking is based on an already-established conclusion which, however clever, cunning, cannot resolve the problem, because the problem is totally new each time I approach it. As a human being who is desirous of understanding this whole process of existence with all its complexities, with its sorrows, divisions and incessant conflict, I must approach it, surely, with a mind that is not conditioned as a Hindu, a Buddhist, a Communist, or a Christian; but unfortunately our minds are conditioned. You know what I mean by a conditioned mind. Through education, through religious sanctions and the psychological compulsions of society, your mind has been shaped to a particular pattern. You think as a Hindu, as a Moslem, or what you will; or if you have rejected the more orthodox patterns, you think as a man who is free of all that but who is conditioned by his own ideas, his own conclusions based on his personal study and experiences. So, is it possible to approach the problem of human existence with a mind that is entirely free from conditioning? Our inquiry, then, is not how to resolve the problem, but rather how the mind can free itself from its conditioning so that it is made fresh, new, and can therefore tackle the problem creatively, not in this destructive fractional way. Please, as I said, we are discussing not to exchange ideas or to promulgate some new philosophy, which is utter nonsense, but rather to inquire deeply into ourselves as human beings and find out whether it is possible to free the mind - your mind, not somebody else's mind - from the conditioning which has been imposed upon it through centuries. If you say it is impossible to free the mind from its conditioning, or if you assume that it is possible, you have already concluded, therefore there is no creative thinking. What matters is that through listening to what is being said you become conscious of yourself, of your own conditioning, your own thinking, so that you are aware of how your mind operates. Then you will be able to free the mind from its conditioning not by listening to me, but by observing your own mind through the description which I give. I think it is important to understand this right from the beginning, because only then is the right relationship established between us. To me the whole idea of guru and disciple is utterly false, because it only breeds slavery of thought. That is why it is so important to establish from the very beginning the right relationship between the speaker and yourself. What we are trying to do is to find out without being told what to find, which means that you and I must have a mind capable of discovery; but we cannot discover if we start from a series of conclusions or experiences, our own or somebody else's, and in that lies our greatest difficulty. If you observe yourself you will see that your thought is only a series of quotations from the Gita, the Koran, or the Bible, or from what Buddha or the latest saint has said, and such a mind is incapable of discovery. To discover is not only to find the solutions to our problems but also, through the understanding of our problems, to discover for ourselves what is true, whether there is reality, God, and not merely to assert that there is or there is not. Now, how is the mind, being so conditioned, so bound by authority, by tradition, to free itself from the past? Please, this is not a theory, nor am I telling you what to do. If I told you what to do, and you did it, it would be totally wrong, because then you would be following another. You may leave the old and follow the new, but you are still a follower, and he who follows will never find out what is true, he will never discover for himself whether there is truth, God, peace. So I am not pointing out the way to truth, because truth has no way, no system;it is not to be found through the cultivation of virtue, for the cultivation of virtue is only a form of self-centred activity. You must have a free mind to discover what is true, and it is extraordinarily difficult to have a free mind, a mind not bound by tradition, a mind that is no longer accepting or rejecting conclusions, a mind that is not burdened with experience, however noble or transient. What is important is not just to follow what I say, but to find out for yourself how your mind is conditioned and to see if it is possible to free the mind from that conditioning. Your mind is obviously conditioned, that is a fact whether you like it or not, and as long as you call yourself an Indian, a Hindu, a Communist, or what you will, you are maintaining that conditioning. Now, how is one to be aware of one's conditioning? Do you understand the problem? You may verbally assert that you are conditioned; but merely to assert it, and to discover that you are conditioned in your speech, in your thought, in dozens of ways, are two entirely different states. To know that you suffer is one thing, and merely to speculate about suffering is another. Most of us, unfortunately, superficially speculate about being conditioned, and so we create a division between ourselves as we actually are and the idea of our being conditioned. That is clear, is it not? Throughout the world man has broken up his existence as spiritual and worldly, and that division exists in your life. You seek God, you meditate and do all that kind of stuff, while in daily life you are ambitious, you are seeking power, position, prestige, and you try to mix the two and create something out of it. So you live a schizophrenic existence, an existence that is broken up, split, and to realize for yourself that this cleavage exists is quite different from the mere acceptance of the idea, is it not? To know that I am hungry, to feel the misery of it, is one thing, and to think about the idea of hunger is a totally different state. Most of us are merely thinking about these problems, we are not feeling them. If we were capable of feeling any problem totally, then our approach to it would be entirely different, there would be no split approach; and I think it is very important to understand how the mind is caught in words, and is therefore incapable of looking at the fact without the word. If you listen to all this as mere talk, then what is being said becomes another lecture with very little meaning. It will be worth while only if you listen to find out how your own mind operates, observing as you are sitting there how it is broken up into fragments, each fragment in conflict with another like so many opposing desires, with yourself caught in the middle trying to bring peace amidst all this confusion. So there is a vast difference between the fact and an opinion or idea about the fact. Which is it that is actually happening to you? Is it the fact that you are confronting, whatever the fact may be, or your opinion about the fact? And can we free the mind from the opinion, the conclusion, and look directly at the fact? If we can look at the fact in that way, then there is an integrated action, a complete comprehension of the fact, and therefore the resolution of that fact. You see, the difficulty is that if a problem exists in our life, as it does - the problem of sorrow, of loneliness, of division - we want a solution; but the solution does not lie beyond the problem. Please do follow this a little bit. The answer to the problem lies in the problem itself, not away from it. Now, our very existence has become a problem, and to understand our existence we have to look at it, surely, not in terms of what has been said, but as it actually is. It is important to know oneself, is it not? Because without knowing oneself, whatever one may think, whatever one may believe, will have no basis, no validity. So you have to know yourself first, and that is the foundation on which you can build; but without self-knowledge, your building has no significance. You see, the difficulty is that most of us do not want to know ourselves. We are bored with ourselves and we want to escape from our boredom through some form of amusement: going to a guru, attending church, performing rituals, seeking power, position - the whole business of modern society. What is important, then, is to know oneself. Self-knowledge is the beginning of wisdom, and to have self-knowledge is not a complex problem. You can know yourself as you actually are by observing yourself every minute of the day, or whenever it is possible to do so. If I want to know myself, the conscious as well as the unconscious, if I want to understand the whole buildup of the `me', I must watch myself as I get into the bus, when I am conversing with a friend; I must observe the way I talk to my wife, to my boss, to my servant. Surely, I can see myself as I am only in the mirror of relationship. Do you follow? If you really go into it, you will find that it is extraordinarily simple. Without knowledge of yourself there can be no solution of either the world problem or your own problem. You know very well what is happening in the world. There is more and more confusion, more and more tyranny. Everywhere the one-party system is spreading, with one so-called great leader. Man is being shaped, conditioned to think according to a certain pattern, within a certain field, and thereby he avoids a religious revolution. And one sees that such a revolution is necessary, a revolution not based on economic or social upheaval, but a total revolution, a revolution which is truly religious. I am not talking of the religion of the Hindu, of the Buddhist, or the Christian. That is not religion at all, it is merely dogma, a set of beliefs born of fear, of the desire to be secure, to sit on the right hand of God, or what you will. Religion is something entirely different from all that, and to find the religious life there must be a total revolution in our thinking. To bring about a different kind of world, an altogether new culture, each one of us must begin with the right foundation, and that foundation is laid through self-knowledge. You must begin to know yourself, the whole of your being, and not just the superficial part of your upper consciousness. I have been given some questions, and I shall try to go into them; but first of all, I wonder why you ask questions. Either you want another to point the way out of your confusion, or you are hoping someone is going to answer in a way that will resolve your problems. It is good to question, to criticize, to inquire and never accept; but when we do inquire we always have an end in view, and therefore it is no longer an inquiry. If you have a problem, you want a satisfactory answer to that problem, do you not? Otherwise you would not put the question. You are not trying to understand the problem but to find a gratifying solution, a safe haven in which you will never be disturbed; therefore you are no longer inquiring into the problem, and I think it is very important to realize this. So, in considering these questions, I am not giving an answer, because life has no answer; life must be lived, understood, and not run away from into some secure haven. To understand this extraordinarily complex existence, and to find out if there is reality, God, one must approach it very hesitantly, tentatively, for only then can one begin to understand oneself, the whole structure of one's being. Question: I read in the newspaper today your statement that to solve man's problems what is needed is not an economic or social revolution, but a religious revolution. What do you mean by religious revolution? Krishnamurti: First of all, let us find out what we mean by religion. What is religion for most of us - not the theory of what religion should be, but the actual fact? For most of us, religion is obviously a series of dogmas, traditions, what the Upanishads, or the Gita, or the Bible have said; or it is made up of the experiences, visions, hopes, ideas which have sprung from our conditioned minds, from our minds which have been shaped according to the Hindu, the Christian or the Communist pattern. We start with a particular conditioning and have experiences based on it. What we call religion is prayer, ritual, dogma, wishing to find God, the acceptance of authority and a vast number of superstitions, is it not? But is that religion? A man who is really trying to find out what is true must surely abandon all that, must he not? He must totally discard the authority of the guru, of the Upanishads, and the authority of his own experiences, so that, being purged of all authority, his mind is capable of discovery. That means you must cease to be a Hindu, a Christian, a Buddhist, you must see the absurdity of that whole business and break away from it. And will you? Because if you do, you are against the present society, and may lose your job. So fear dominates the mind, and you go on accepting authority. What we call religion, then, is not religion at all. Whether we believe in God, or do not believe in God, depends upon our conditioning. You believe in God, and the Communist believes in no-God. What is the difference? There is no difference whatsoever, because you are trained to believe and he is trained not to believe. Therefore a man who is seriously inquiring must totally reject that process, must he not? - reject it because he understands the whole significance of it. Being insecure, frightened, inwardly insufficient, we identify ourselves with a country, with an ideology, or with a belief in God; and we can see what is happening throughout the world. Every religion, though they all profess love, brotherhood, and all the rest of it, is actually separating man from man. You are a Sikh and I am a Hindu, he is a Moslem and somebody else is a Buddhist. Seeing all this confusion and separation, one realizes there must be a different kind of thinking; but the different kind of thinking obviously cannot come into being as long as one remains a Hindu, a Christian, or what you will. To be free of all that, you have to know yourself, the whole structure of your being; you have to see why you accept, why you follow authority, which is fairly obvious. You want success, you want to be assured that there is a God on whom you can rely in moments of trouble. A man who is really joyous, happy, never thinks about God. We think about God when we are in misery, conflict, but we have created the misery, the conflict, and without understanding the whole process of it, merely to inquire after God leads to utter illusion. So the religious revolution of which I am talking is not the revival or reformation of any particular religion, but the total freedom from all religions and ideologies - which means, really, freedom from the society which has created them. Surely, a man who is ambitious cannot be a religious man. A man who is ambitious does not know love, though he may talk about it. A man may not be ambitious in the worldly sense, but if he wants to be a saint, a spiritual somebody, if he wants to achieve a result in the next world, he is still ambitious. So the mind must not only be stripped of all ceremonies, beliefs and dogmas, but it must also be free of envy. The total freedom of man is the religious revolution, for only then will he be able to approach life entirely differently and cease to create problem after problem. You have probably listened to all this only verbally or intellectually, because you say to yourself, "What would I do in life if I had no ambition? I should be destroyed by society". I wonder if you would be destroyed by society. The moment you understand society and reject the whole structure on which it is based -ambition, envy, the pursuit of success, the religious dogmas, beliefs and superstitions - , you are outside of society and can therefore think of the whole problem anew; and perhaps then there will be no problem. But you have probably listened only on the verbal level and will continue with the same old thing tomorrow; you will read the Gita or the Bible, go to your guru or a priest, and all the rest of it. You may listen to all this and accept it intellectually, verbally, but your life continues in the opposite direction, so you have merely created another conflict; therefore it is much better not to listen at all, because you have enough conflicts, enough problems, without introducing a new one. It is very nice to sit and listen to what is being said here, but if it has no relationship to your actual life, it is much better to shut your ears; because if you hear the truth and do not live it, your life becomes a hideous confusion, the sorrowful mess which it is. Question: You seem to be against the very essence of authority. Is not the acceptance of authority inevitable in our individual lives? Without it would not society be reduced to chaos? Krishnamurti: Let us find out what we mean by authority, and why we accept it, rather than speculate as to whether, without authority, society would disintegrate. Society is disintegrating, whether you like it or not; it is going to pieces because we have followed authority, so let us inquire into that. Why do we follow another? This is a very complex problem, and we must therefore approach it carefully, wisely, patiently. It involves the problem of knowledge, that is, the problem of accepting the authority of one who has knowledge, assuming that you don't know and the other does. We accept the authority of a doctor, and the civil authority which says we must drive on the left side of the road. If you haven't the common sense to follow the general rule of driving on the left side of the road, you will end up in a police station. So we follow normal authority in certain things which are common to us all. If I want to build a bridge, I cannot reject the knowledge that has been accumulated through the centuries; that would be absurd. We are not talking of such authority. We are talking of authority at quite a different level; the authority of the teacher, the guru who says he knows, and who is followed by the person who does not know and who wishes to be led to reality. Let us be very clear that it is such authority we are talking about, not the authority of factual knowledge which has been accumulated through centuries in medicine, engineering, or any other branch of science. To reject all that would be too stupid. We are talking of the authority that you create in the person who says he knows God, truth, and can lead you to that reality. So the problem is clear, is it not? We are talking of spiritual authority, if I may use that word `spiritual' without being misunderstood; the authority of the guru who knows, in his relationship with the disciple who does not know. When the guru says he knows, what does it mean? It means that he has experienced God, truth, perfect peace, and all the rest of it; he knows and you do not, so you follow him, hoping to be led to that reality. That is how we create so-called spiritual authority. Now, please follow this. What do we mean by knowing? When I say, "I know", what does that signify? I can only know something which is already over. Do you understand? I can only know what has been; and when a guru says he knows, he only knows the past, what he has experienced; and what he has experienced is always static, it is a dead thing, it is not living. Truth, God, cannot be known; you cannot know or experience it, because the moment you say, "I know, I have experienced", you don't know. You can only know what has been, and what has been has no validity, it is no longer truth. When the teacher says he will help you to reach truth, reality, he can only help you to reach something which is fixed, within the field of time, and therefore not true. Sirs, do listen to this. Don't accept what I am saying: see the truth of it, and seeing the truth of it will free you. We think truth, God, is a fixed point in time; it is over there, and to gain it, to travel the intervening distance and reach it, we say we must have time. What we call reality is fixed, therefore we can make a path to it - or rather, many paths, the paths of the various religions, sects, beliefs. But reality can never be fixed; it is immeasurable, alive, beyond time; it has no being in the terms we know. It can only be approached when the mind has ceased to be caught within the field of time, and so no guru, no book, no system of meditation can lead you to it. The mind must be totally free from all the past compulsions, past influences, it must be without movement, completely silent, no longer inquiring in order to be safe, in order to be happy, in order to achieve. That is why the truly religious man has no authority, no dogma, no tradition, no belief. Tradition, belief, dogma, authority, are all within the field of time, and a mind that is caught within that field can never find that which is timeless. To free the mind from time is an immense problem, because the mind is the result of time, it is the result of innumerable influences, memories; and can such a mind be free from the past? Until the mind is free from the past, it cannot discover what is true. Because they are suffering, lost in their confusion, human beings go to another, hoping to find an answer, a sense of comfort, a haven of security; and they do find a haven of security, because that is their desire, but their haven of security is not God, it is not truth. It is a thing made by the mind, put together by man, and what has been put together can be torn asunder. That is why it is very important to understand yourself. Self-knowledge is the beginning of wisdom. But the self, the `me' is a very complex thing, and knowing yourself is not just a matter of reading a book, or practising some stupid form of introspection, and then saying, "I have learnt all about myself". That does not bring self-knowledge. The ways of the self are to be discovered from moment to moment, not through accumulation. Observe how your mind operates, what you think, your impulses, your compulsions, your hidden motives -be aware of all that from moment to moment, and then free the mind from this curse of authority, from all the books, from all the leaders, political or otherwise, because they are just as ambitious as you are. The ambitious, the successful will never create the new world. The new world can be created only by the man who is free from ambition, from the desire to be successful, free from all dogmas, beliefs - which means, really, free from himself, free from his ego, his `me'. It is only through this religious revolution, and not through the economic revolution of the Communists or the Socialists, that the new world can come into being. October 10, 1956 NEW DELHI 2ND PUBLIC TALK 17TH OCTOBER 1956 It seems to me that it is very important to understand the totality of all problems, and not merely resolve one problem after another; but most of us are inclined, I think, to solve each problem on its own particular level and not to have a total, comprehensive view of the whole problem of existence. What matters, surely, is to see the whole and not be caught up in the particular, for in understanding the whole, the particular will be resolved and understood. Most of us are concerned with a particular problem, economic, social, or religious, and we do not seem to be aware of the whole. Though the particular is important, if we could see the whole and not get lost in the particular, then I think we should be able to resolve the many disturbing issues that confront us. We all have many problems, have we not? Our existence is fraught with innumerable contradictory issues; and how are ordinary human beings like you and me to resolve this enormous complex of problems? We have the economic problem, the problem of our relationship with each other, the problem of war and peace, the problem of death, the problem of whether there is God, truth, the problem of social reformation, the problem of what system to follow, the Communist, the Socialist, or the Capitalist, and so on. Now, how do you and I approach these many problems? Do we look at the problems of life as separate from the totality of existence, or do we consider the totality of existence and then deal with the particular? Do you understand what I mean? Our life consists of political activity, religious activity, the activity of a job, and the personal activity of self-centred action; we are concerned with what leader we should follow, what authority we should obey, which teacher we should imitate, and so on. That is our life, and without understanding the totality of it, most of us try to deal with each issue separately, hoping thereby to solve the whole problem. The political leader is concerned with one issue, the religious leader with another, while the social reformer is concerned with the amelioration of society, he wants to abolish the caste system, and all the rest of it. There are innumerable problems, but I don't think any problem can be solved by itself, because all problems are interrelated. Most of us regard education, political reformation, and the religious life, for example, as separate problems, unrelated to each other, and therefore our confusion grows. The politician is only concerned with legislation, the so-called religious person is only concerned with the pursuit of reality, God, and the social worker is only concerned with the reformation of society. To me this fragmentary outlook, with its isolated activity, is most dangerous because it merely creates further misery - which is exactly what is happening throughout the world. Now, seeing this whole process and being aware of its significance, how is each one of us to understand the totality of existence and then apply our understanding to the particular? What makes a great painter? Surely, a great painter is one who first sees the whole and then paints the details. Similarly, can each one of us see the totality of existence and not merely be concerned with the particular? The totality of existence includes all our particular idiosyncrasies, our particular vanities, our social relationships, our conditioning by a particular religion, culture, or political system, and if we do not understand the totality, merely dealing with a particular issue will not solve any of our problems. I think it should be very clear to anyone who is at all serious that no problem can be solved on its own level, but must be approached through the understanding of the totality. What does it mean to understand the totality? It means, surely, that I must understand the totality of my own being, because I am not different from society. I am the product of society, as society is the projection of myself; and to bring about a fundamental transformation in society I must totally transform myself. It is only through being concerned the total transformation of myself that I am capable of dealing with society. It is now the fashion to be concerned with the reformation of society, as though society were something different from ourselves. But you and I have created society by our ambition, by our cruelty, by our stupidity, by our pursuit of something which we think is God; so the individual problem is the problem of the world. Each one of us is intimately related to the world, to society, and to solve the problem of society we must understand the creator of the problem, which is you, which is me. To understand the totality of action, then, I must understand the whole structure of my own being, the conscious as well as the unconscious; I must understand the ways of my thought and feeling. Without bringing about a basic revolution in myself there is no possibility of creating a new society, and this should be fairly obvious, at least to anyone who thinks about these problems fundamentally. And how are you and I as individuals to understand and bring about this transformation in ourselves? Do you understand the problem? The problem is not which party to join, what legislation to support, which leader to follow, which guru to imitate, but how am I - who am composed of all these fragmentary views and contradictions - to bring about a complete revolution in myself? To know what I am matters infinitely, because my action reflects the contradiction in myself and therefore creates a contradiction in society. This does not mean emphasis on individual salvation, on the individual and his attainment; on the contrary, to find out what we are is to inquire whether we are individuals at all. Do you understand? Most of us think we are individuals, that we are capable of thinking independently and therefore acting freely; but is that so? Are you an individual? You have a particular name, a private bank account, certain features and qualities which distinguish you from someone else; but are you an individual in the sense that your mind is completely uncontaminated by society? Or is your mind merely the product of society, of a particular culture? - in which case you are not an individual at all, though your many activities, reflections and memories make you think you are an individual. Do you understand all this? We think we are individuals; but are we? When you say you are a Hindu, a Moslem, a Buddhist, or a Christian, you are repeating what you have been told from childhood; and the repetition of what you have been told does not constitute individuality. To be truly individual is not to be the result of the collective; but you are the result of the collective because you merely repeat the things which society has taught you. You may think you have an individual soul, but that belief is merely the imprint of a particular culture. I think it is very important to understand this one thing. You see, truth, reality, God, or what name you will can only be experienced by a mind that is completely alone; and the mind is not alone as long as it is contaminated by society, put together by so-called knowledge, by a particular culture. Only the individual who has really understood the full significance of truth, is truly religious, and such an individual, being in a state of total revolution, will have a revolutionary effect on society. That is why it is very important to find out if the mind can ever be free to think independently. Can thinking ever be independent? As long as the mind is conditioned, surely, there can be no freedom in thinking. And your mind is conditioned, is it not? As a Hindu you are shaped by many centuries of tradition - the Brahmin, the untouchable, or what you will - , which means that you are the product of the society in which you have been brought up; your mind is conditioned by certain beliefs, information, ideals which have been given to you, and with that background you proceed to think. But unless one is free of the background completely, there is no possibility of thinking independently. Until I totally cease to be a Hindu it is not possible for me to discover what is true, and I think it is very important to realize this. A conditioned mind, a mind that is put together by society, by time, is incapable of finding the timeless. So there must be this sense of individuality which comes only when the mind is uncontaminated by society, that is, when it is no longer thinking in terms of the Hindu, the Christian, the Buddhist, and so on. A mind that is constantly freeing itself from the memories, the traditions, the values which society has imposed upon it, is an individual mind, and only such a mind is capable of inquiring into what is true. As long as the mind is conditioned, shaped by society, by economic and religious influences, it is never free, and it is only the free mind that can discover what is new. And truth is something totally new; God must be something which has never been experienced before. That is why a mind that is conditioned, that is shaped by authority, by tradition, by religious books, can never find out if there is a reality or not. The totality of this revolution lies in the mind's discovery of how it is conditioned, and freeing itself from that conditioning. After all, a mind that is ambitious, envious, at whatever level, political, religious or social, is incapable of understanding what is true. For most of us it is very difficult to be free of ambition, because ambition is the very essence of the self, the `me; and the mind that seeks to attain a so-called spiritual state, to reach the other shore, is as ambitious as the mind that wants a good position in society. A total revolution is necessary if we are to bring about a completely different kind of world, and a total revolution is possible only when the mind of each one of us is not bound by society, that is, when it is no longer the result of the collective and is therefore capable of stepping out of the whole structure of society. Sirs, I have been handed some questions. Please bear in mind that we are going to investigate the problem and find the answer together. Don't wait for me to give an answer to the question, but let us together explore the problem. Though I may describe and explain, you are watching the problem operating in yourself; and that observation, that very awareness and understanding of the problem in yourself, will resolve the problem. Question: People well versed in the Hindu scriptures say that sadhana is essential for mukti. Vinoba Bhaveji has said that what you speak of as freedom cannot be the same as mukti because you do not seem to believe in sadhana. Krishnamurti: Now, sir, what is important in this question? Not what Vinoba Bhaveji says, or what I say, or what is written in the scriptures, but to find out for yourself what is true. Sadhana, I am told, means the method, the system, the practice towards an end; and the question is, is sadhana necessary or not? So please understand that we are discussing, not what X or Y has said, but whether in fact a practice with an end in view leads to freedom, to reality. Most of us think that by doing certain things - practising yoga, meditating, disciplining, suppressing, denying, torturing oneself -the mind will be led to reality, to God. That is what you have been brought up on; but I say that no method, no system can lead you to reality, because you will become a prisoner of that system, and it is only the free mind that can discover what is true. Besides, truth has no fixed abode, it is not static, it is a living thing which is in constant movement, and a path can only lead to that which is fixed, which is static. The practising of any method or system merely produces the result which that system offers. Do you understand? Sirs, I am not trying to convince you of the truth of what I am saying, but if you see the truth of this for yourself, you will be free of the system which you hope will lead you to truth. The moment you see that no system can lead you to truth, you are free of systems. First of all, you think that truth, reality, God, or what you will, is a fixed point, and that to get there all you have to do is diligently to practise a certain discipline every day, make your mind conform to a certain pattern. That is what your books, your leaders, your swamis and yogis all say; but they may be totally wrong, including the Gita. So you have to find out; and how will you find out? You must begin, surely, by abandoning all authority. That means you cannot have any fear. And then what happens? You begin to inquire into what is implied by a practice, a method. Surely, a practice, method or discipline implies the suppression of your own thoughts to conform to a particular pattern which you think will lead you to reality. Does all this interest you, or are you going to sleep? You see, what I am saying goes entirely opposite to everything that you believe, and obviously most of you want to continue to think along the old lines; because what I am saying means real revolution, not the economic or social kind, but the fundamental revolution that comes into being when the whole structure of authority is questioned - the authority, not only of the guru, but also of tradition and of your own experience. So what are we discussing? We are trying to find out the truth or falseness of the common belief, which includes the ideas of your various gurus, that certain practices are necessary to reach moksha, to reach freedom. If you examine the whole process very carefully you will see that by practising a method your mind is not made free, but merely conforms itself to the method and so becomes a slave to that method and to what it will produce. I think that much is very clear if you once see it. To be creative the mind must be free, and not conform to a pattern or a framework which you think will lead you to the real. Sirs, another factor involved in all this is the question of discipline. Can discipline free the mind? Or to be free must the mind, through intense alertness, understand the implication of discipline and thereby be free of discipline? Discipline implies suppression in order to achieve a result of which you know nothing. What you `know' of moksha, and all the rest of it, is only what you have been told, and in order to gain what you think is truth you practise disciplines; but can truth ever be known to a mind that is ambitious, envious, cruel? Why do you not concern yourself with freeing the mind from envy, to take that as a simple example. And can you free the mind from envy by discipline? Do you understand, sirs? Have you ever tried freeing the mind from envy by compelling it to be non-envious? When you do that, what happens? The mind that is forced not to be envious is a dead mind, is it not? It has built a wall around itself, therefore it is an insensitive mind. You may be unworldly and possess only a loincloth, but you are still envious inwardly because you want to get somewhere in the so-called spiritual sense. If you go into it very deeply you will find that the mind can never be free of envy through any form of discipline, but only when it understands the whole process of envy - which means studying envy, not condemning it or comparing it with something else. Envy comes into being when there is comparison, when you want to be better than X, more this or more that. As long as the mind is thinking in terms of the `more', there must be envy; and when you discipline yourself not to be envious you are still demanding the `more', therefore you are still envious. If you understand this very clearly, you will see that truth is not somewhere in the distance; it is not over there, separated from you by a gap an interval of time. When you create such a gap you must have time to bridge it, you must perform various disciplines to achieve what you call truth. So sadhana of any kind is unnecessary, and the very perception that sadhana is unnecessary brings a profound understanding of the ways of the mind. The mind has a continual craving to be certain. It wants a result, it wants to be reassured, it wants to reach an end which will be permanent, secure; and so we do these things in order to find comfort, in order to be gratified, in order to feel that we have arrived, all of which is the process of the self, the `me'. If you understand this, not merely verbally or intellectually, but really see the truth of it, then there is no distance between what is and the truth. But to see the truth of it, you must begin by putting away all authority - the authority of the book, however good, however religious, the authority of the gurus, of all those who think they have arrived. The man who says he knows, does not know, because all that he can know is the past, not truth. To be free of authority you must understand fear, and fear will exist as long as the mind is pursuing security, comfort, gratification, power, position, whether here or in the so-called spiritual world. If you really see this, then what is the necessity for any discipline? If you understand something to be poisonous, surely you leave it alone; there is no temptation, there is no conflict, you don't have to discipline yourself not to touch it. You just leave it alone. In the same way, if you understand the poison of ambition, envy, you just drop it, you don't have to practise a discipline to be free of it. But to understand that ambition is poison you must give your whole attention to it, and you cannot give your whole attention to it if you are afraid, or if you are seeking a comforting result. The question, then, is not which is the right sadhana, or whether there should be any sadhana at all, but can the mind free itself from fear? Fear comes into being as long as the mind is trying to become something. If you see the truth of this, then no discipline is necessary. But to see the truth you need a mind that is unafraid, that is not anxious, not covetous, that is not seeking position, power, prestige, either in this world or in the next. Actually you are seeking these things, and you also want to reach truth or happiness, so there is a conflict; and you want to know how to get rid of the conflict without giving up either this or that. So, to understand what is true or what is false there must be freedom from fear, and you cannot discipline your mind to be free from fear. You must see for yourself that ambition, covetousness, violence, greed, and all the rest of it, is poison, and then you will leave it alone. That means going totally against society, against many things that you have maintained as being essential to life. Question: What is habit? There are certain needs which are fundamental, and others which are based on the psychological memory of pleasure. Does this mean that one should indulge, or not indulge, depending on whether the need is fundamental or based on memory? Krishnamurti: Sirs, this is a very interesting and complex question, because a great deal is involved in it. If you will, kindly follow the description which I am going to give, but also watch your own minds through the explanation. Do you understand what I mean? I am describing or explaining something, but the explanation will remain merely verbal and therefore useless if you don't observe your own habits and become aware of how they function. Now, what do we mean by habit? Let us go slowly, step by step. It is a very complex problem, demanding a great deal of attention, and if you don't follow the sequence you will miss the whole significance of it. What do we mean by habit? We are not seeking a definition, but the content of that word. A person takes a cup of coffee every morning, for example, because without it he feels he will have a headache. That action has become a habit, based on what he considers a necessity; that is, the stimulation of coffee has become a necessity. That much is fairly simple and clear. It is like smoking. Though the first cigarette may have nauseated you, smoking gradually becomes pleasurable and you keep on repeating the act. That is one form of habit. Then there is the process of eating. It is essential for my body to have food; and does eating become a habit? It becomes a habit only when I demand that food shall have such and such a taste based on pleasure. I must have pickles, I must have rice, I must have this or that, which means that my tongue is dictating the habit of eating based on pleasure. Similarly, there is the habit of sex and all that is implied in it. Glandular secretion takes place, which is a function of the body, and it must have an outlet. Then what happens? The mind stores up as memory the pleasure of the sexual act. Now, is glandular secretion a habit, or does habit arise only when the mind derives pleasure from resuscitating the memory of the sexual act and thereby becomes a slave to that memory? Are you following all this? Surely, habit is the repetition of a pleasure based on the memory of yesterday. Please follow this, sirs, because if you follow alertly, watchfully, not just my words, but your own mind, you will see how the mind creates habit through the demand for pleasure. Habit is not the natural demand of hunger, for example, but the demand for pleasure and the repetition of that pleasure based on memory. A body that is hungry needs food, but habit arises only when it demands that the food shall have a particular taste which is the repetition of pleasure it has had before. So habit is the recollection of a pleasure which the mind has had and wants the constant repetition of. All right? Or is this too complex? It does not matter, sirs. You come with me, let us look at it together. The mind is the result of habit, it only knows the memories of a thousand yesterdays, and every act based on that background becomes a habit. Now, follow this. The mind establishes a habit based on the memory and repetition of a particular pleasure. Then society, your guru, or sacred book, says that the habit is very wrong, so you have the opposite: you must be celibate, you must be this or that. Hence there is a conflict between the fact, which is the habit, and what you think you should be; so you go to somebody to tell you how to get rid of that conflict, thereby creating another problem. You had one conflict, now you have two conflicts - and that is our life, a series of never-ending conflicts. The mind is always being frustrated, it is miserable, fearful, and such a mind wants something beyond itself. It is impossible. The mind seeks the repetition of a particular pleasure, sexual or whatever it is, and as long as it demands that pleasure it functions in the groove of habit. That is a fact. Then the mind says, "I must be free from this habit", so it is always resisting, fighting, and it seeks to cultivate another habit which will not be like this one. So what has. happened? The mind is in conflict, it wants a certain pleasure and at the same time it is pushing away that which it wants. I am not saying it must or must not yield to pleasure; that is not the problem. We will see it presently. I see a lovely sunset, with billowing clouds lighted by the sun and Mars riding on top. There is great delight, for it is a beautiful thing to behold. That is pleasure, is it not? Now, why do we say that watching a cloud is all right, and that certain other forms of pleasure are wrong? When we deny pleasure in one field and maintain it in another we are becoming insensitive. Do you understand? It is like the mind that says, "I must have only beautiful things around me, therefore I am going to close the window and not see the dirty village". Life is both the ugly and the beautiful, but we only want one and not the other; and the denial of the ugly makes us insensitive. So, when you are caught in one habit and resist that habit in order to have some other habit which you think is better, you are cultivating insensitivity. Habit is based on pleasure and the repetition of that pleasure; but if you want to destroy pleasure, which is what the swamis, the yogis and the whole lot of them do, then you must not live at all, because pleasure is part of life. When you see a cloud, a smile, a tear, when you watch a child, a woman, or a man, all that is life, and if you deny any part of life you become insensitive. A man who is sensitive has no habit. Please follow this. If you say, "I must have no pleasure", then you must also deny love. No? That is what you have done. When the mind is caught in habit and is therefore insensitive, how can there be love? - just love, not the godly love and the physical love. Do you understand what I mean? I am talking of love, which is to love a human being, a flower, an animal, and not to think of yourself and your pleasures, your vanities, your ambitions. The mind must be completely sensitive to love; it must be vulnerable to love. But how can the mind be vulnerable to love if it has habits, good or bad? Follow this, sirs, just see the truth of it for yourselves. Surely, a mind that is insensitive cannot know what beauty is. How can it? And if it is insensitive to beauty, there is no austerity. A yogi, swami, or mahatma who has only one loincloth and practises all kinds of austerities, is not austere. Austerity is to be sensitive to beauty, to love. You cannot be austere if you are not simple. And simplicity is not a matter of the clothes you wear or don't wear -that is merely immature thinking. To be simple is to be inwardly without ambition, without resistance, which means being completely vulnerable, totally sensitive. You cannot be sensitive if there is conflict; therefore a man who is denying, resisting, struggling to cultivate good habit as opposed to bad habit is not sensitive. Such a mind will never know what love is because it is only concerned with its own advancement, with its own ideas, however noble. A man who does not love, does not know what it is to be austere; therefore he does not know what it is to be simple. So, if you understand the totality of all this, you will see that a mind that is in conflict, that is making an effort to become something, can never be sensitive; and such a mind, whatever it may do, however much it may try to bring reformation to the world, can only create more harm, more mischief. It is only the mind that is sensitive, that knows what it is to love and is therefore free of ambition, of envy, of the desire for power, position, prestige - it is only such a mind that can do good in the world. October 17 1956 NEW DELHI 3RD PUBLIC TALK 21ST OCTOBER 1956 For most of us, if we have thought about these things at all, the idea of change must be rather confusing; because we see that the so-called revolutions, though they have produced certain outward and perhaps beneficial effects, have ultimately been deeply detrimental to man. After all, a fundamental change must be more than just a shift from one limited field of thinking to another. As things are in the world, one can see that there must be some kind of radical change, not only at the economic and social levels, but deep within each one of us; and for those who are at all serious about these matters, the problem must be how to bring about that change. A change that is brought about through any form of compulsion is obviously no change at all. If I am compelled or influenced to change, it is not really a change, because I am merely conforming to a pattern, either externally imposed upon me or established by myself. Nor does change consist in adapting oneself to an environment, which is merely to adjust oneself to a pattern which one thinks will be beneficial or a better way of life. Now, if one sees that adjustment, conformity, or any form of change brought about by compulsion or influence, is no change at all, then how is a change to be brought about? A fundamental change is obviously essential, not only in this country but throughout the world; and how can such a change, which is not the result of compulsion, conformity or adjustment, be set going? Most of us think that adjustment, conformity, or being compelled to act in a certain direction, is a process of change, and we have never questioned whether it is really a revolutionary change. I don't think it is; because if you observe yourself when you are conforming, adjusting, being influenced or compelled, you will see that you are merely fitting into a pattern of thinking, whether ancient or modern, and that the core of your being has not changed at all. So the problem is, how can one radically change at the core of one's being? I don't know if you have given much thought to it, because most of us are willing to be forced to conform to a pattern; we think it is sufficient to bring about a modified change in the world, and with that we are satisfied. But if you go into the matter sufficiently deeply, then you must ask yourself how it is possible for the totality of one's being, the whole of one's consciousness to be changed, how a complete revolution in thinking and in valuation is to be brought about. Because it is obviously only such a revolutionary change, deep, inward, at the heart of oneself, that can ultimately release the creativeness of reality and bring about a totally different kind of world. Without this fundamental inward change, mere outward adjustment, acquiring a little more knowledge, establishing a few more reforms, and all that, is really very superficial. It is like putting on a new coat, but underneath the old condition continues to exist. So, if you are at all interested in the matter, how is one to change completely? May I suggest that you should listen to what I am explaining without judging, without saying it is impossible. Please do not translate what is being said in terms of your own information, or listen to it with a defensive attitude, comparing it with what you have been told or with what you have read in the sacred books - which are no more sacred than any other books. To listen is quite an arduous task, and most of us never listen to anything but the voice of our own thinking, so there is really no communication at all. To listen with judgment, comparing what we hear with what we already know or have read, is a form of distraction. But if we can listen without comparison, with effortless attention, then I think that that very listening is an act of meditation which does bring about a deep transformation. Try observing yourself sometimes to see if you ever really listen to anything, to what your friends say, to what your wife or husband says, to what your boss says, and you will find that your mind is not there at all. You pretend to listen, but you are only half listening; either you are frightened, or bored, or you just don't want to listen, so there is no direct communication. As I said, listening in itself does bring about an extraordinary miracle. The very act of listening produces an immense understanding without any effort on your part; and since you are here and I am talking, I would suggest, if I may, that you listen to find out what it is I am trying to convey. I think that a fundamental change, not a revival, but a religious revolution must come into being, because without it our problems will multiply; though we may have more refrigerators and all the rest of it, we shall become increasingly superficial and have yet greater miseries. And to bring about this deep transformation at the core, surely we have to inquire into the whole problem of what is consciousness, and under stand the anatomy of change. Most of us try to change through effort, do we not? That is, we see ourselves as being cruel, for example, and we say, "I must change", so we make an effort to change, we try to force ourselves through discipline not to be cruel. Now, let us examine the urge which makes us want to change, for without understanding that, without understanding the total process of consciousness which says, "I must change", there can be no fundamental change, though there may be superficial adjustments. Please do not listen to all this against a background of what you have read about consciousness in the Gita or any other book, because what we are trying to do is not to communicate ideas, but to directly experience what we are listening to. Unless we experience what we hear, these talks will have no value at all; they will merely be another set of ideas, a process of mentation, which however exciting, will have very little significance. Whereas, if you and I are actually experiencing what is being said as you are sitting there and I am talking, if through the verbal description each one of us is watching the operation of his own mind, then I think these talks will be really worth while. So we are trying to find out how to change, not just superficially, but at the very centre of our being, which means that we have to inquire into the question of what is consciousness. When I ask myself, "What is consciousness?", there is the questioner apart from the question, is there not? There is the entity who has asked the question and is waiting for an answer; and that process is the beginning of consciousness, is it not? The questioner says, "I must know how consciousness works", and then begins to inquire; and both the inquiry and the answer depend on how he asks the question. To put it differently, I want to know what consciousness is, and it is not a vain or merely curious question. I ask myself what is consciousness because I see that I must fundamentally change, the totality of my being must undergo a complete transformation. Now, does this revolutionary change come about through a series of efforts on the part of the one who says, "I must change"? Must he develop the quality of will and change according to that will? Do you understand? I am asking myself, and I hope you are asking yourself too, what is this consciousness, the `me', that says, "I must change"? And what is the momentum, the action, the force of the inquirer who is trying to change? That whole process is within the field of consciousness, within the field of thinking, is it not? Are you following this? It is not complex, it is very simple. When I wish to change, I already have the pattern or the idea towards which I must change. That is true, is it not? Now, is that really change, or is it merely a movement from the known to another known? Do you understand? Because I am cruel I say I must be kind. The process of trying to be kind is a movement towards something which is already known; and is that change at all? Is there a change if I move towards something which I know? Surely, there is a change only when the mind moves towards the unknown. When it pursues that which it has already experienced, its movement is merely a continuation of the known in a modified form, therefore it is no change at all. Suppose, being violent, I have the ideal of non-violence. The ideal is already known. I have imagined what it is not to be violent, so the ideal is born out of my actual state of violence, and when I change towards that ideal, I am moving within the field of the known; therefore it is not a change at all. That is the whole process of consciousness, is it not? Sirs, don't agree with me, because you have to think it out, feel it out. I make an effort to change in conformity with what I call the ideal, which is the opposite of what I have experienced as violence; therefore I have created a conflict between what is and what should be, and I think this conflict is necessary to bring about a change. All this is the process of consciousness, is it not? Whether it is conscious or unconscious, it is still consciousness. If you see this very clearly for yourself, you will discover something extraordinary. So I am asking myself, is there a change when there is an effort to change? When I try to change, is there a change, or merely conformity to a pattern which has been established by me or by some external agent? That is, any form of change based on tradition or authority is no change at all, because one is merely conforming to an idea, and all ideas are of the known, they are the result of the background which projects them. So any change through effort towards that which you call the ideal, which is the known, is no change at all. When you are pursuing the ideal of nonviolence, for example, you are still violent because you want to achieve a state through compulsion, conformity to a pattern, which is another form of violence. Consciousness is this movement from the known to the known, a movement of compulsion, of effort. When the Communist says, "I have the right pattern for existence", that pattern is the result of what he has known. He creates a Utopia according to his knowledge and interpretation of history, and if he is a big man he pushes it through, while we little people conform. That is what has happened in one form or another throughout the world. The Shankaras, the leaders, the teachers have ideas, we read and conform, and we think we are changing. There may be a superficial adjustment, but there is no change at all in the sense in which I am speaking, which is the total transformation of our being so that our way of thinking is entirely new. What is new cannot be brought about through effort, through moving from the known to the known, which is the pursuit of the ideal. And yet that is what you are doing in your daily life, is it not? You realize you are ambitious or cruel, or envious, and you say, "I must change", so you proceed to conform to the pattern of an ideal which you or others have established, and you think that is an enormous change. But if you really go into it, penetrate into the whole psychological process of thinking, you will see that as long as the mind is thinking in terms of a duality such as violence and non-violence, as lone as it is making an effort to conform to the opposite of what it is - which is merely the projection of the known and therefore a continuation of the same thing in a modified form - , there can be no fundamental change. What is important, then, is to realize, to actually see or experience the falseness of your effort to change. The gurus, the mahatmas, the masters, and all the religious books tell you to make an effort, to control, to discipline yourself, and to realize that this effort is really false means that you must be capable of looking at it without the authority of any leader, political or religious, including myself. To experience the truth or the falseness of what you see, you cannot interpret it according to somebody else, it does not matter who it is. If you go into this matter and see very clearly for yourself that there can be no change as long as there is conformity, that is, as long as you are forcing yourself to fit into a pattern established by you or by somebody else - if you really see the truth or the falseness of that, then you will find that your mind has stripped itself of all authority; and is not that the very beginning of a fundamental revolution? It seems to me that there must be, especially at this time, people who are really serious about these things - by which I do not mean the people who are seriously dedicated to the Gita, to Communism, or to some other pattern, because such people are merely conformists. I am talking of people who seriously and earnestly want to find out how to bring about in themselves a revolution which is total. So we come to the question, can the mind free itself from the known? - for only then is there a fundamental change. Please, sirs, this requires a great deal of insight, inquiry. Don't agree with me, but go into it, meditate, tear your mind apart to find out the truth or the falseness of all this. Does knowledge, which is the known, bring about change? I must have knowledge to build a bridge; but must my mind know towards what it is changing? Surely, if I know what the state of the mind will be when it is changed, it is no longer change. Such knowledge is a detriment to change because it becomes a means of satisfaction, and as long as there is a centre seeking satisfaction, reward, or security, there is no change at all. And all our efforts are based on that centre of reward, punishment, success, gain, are they not? That is all most of us are concerned with, and if it will help us get what we want, we will change; but such change is no change at all. So the mind that wishes to be fundamentally, deeply in a state of change, in a state of revolution, must be free from the known. Then the mind becomes astonishingly still, and only such a mind will experience the radical transformation which is so necessary. Question: You often use the term `understanding' in connection with the dissolution of problems. What exactly do you mean by understanding? Krishnamurti: If I want to understand a child, what must I do? I must watch him, must I not? I must watch him when he sleeps, when he plays, when he cries, when he is mischievous, and not condemn him or compare him with his elder brother. I must not have a pattern of what he should be. Is that not so? In the same way, if I have a problem, I must watch it, and I cannot watch it if I want a particular solution of that problem, or if I condemn or fear it. Fear, comparison, judgment, condemnation, prevent me from understanding the problem. That is, if I condemn, judge, compare, or identify myself with the problem, I don't understand the problem. But if I don't do any of these things, then does the problem exist? Do you understand? The problem exists as long as I am separate from the problem, does it not? I wonder if you are getting this? Look, take the problem of violence, envy, greed, or what you will. If I am violent and say, "I must not be violent", I have already condemned my violence. That very word `violence' contains condemnation. Is that not so? If I want to understand the whole process of violence, I must not judge it, I must not compare it with what I should be, and there must be no fear. When I remove fear, when there is no condemnation, no comparison, then is there violence and all the problems connected with it? Do you understand, sirs? You are s waiting for me to answer. Please don't. Experiment with yourself, don't wait for me to answer, because I have nothing to answer. You see, what we consider to be positive thinking is a process of being told what to do; and is that thinking? Or is there only one form of thinking, the highest, which is to push, to probe, to inquire and never to accept? And you cannot inquire if you are caught in a so-called positive form of thinking. I wonder if you are following this, sirs? We are trying to find out what it means to understand a problem, and we are examining the word `understanding'. I see that I cannot understand the problem of envy, for example, if I condemn, judge, identify, compare, and all the rest of it; and I am asking myself, when the mind ceases to do these things, does the problem exist? The problem exists as long as I am comparing, judging, evaluating, accepting or denying it, struggling against it. But the moment there is no comparison in the profound sense of the word, the moment I cease comparing myself with my guru, my ideal, or with the man above me in my job, does not the problem of envy disappear? So, to understand a problem and dissolve it totally there must be no form of condemnation, judgment, comparison, which only increase and do not resolve the problem. Question: You said the other day that one has to see the totality of a problem to comprehend it. What is it that enables one to see the problem in its entirety? Krishnamurti: I shall go into this question, but let us approach it differently. What do we mean by attention? Is there attention when I am forcing my mind to attend? When I say to myself, "I must pay attention, I must control my mind and push aside all other thoughts", would you call that attention? Surely that is not attention. What happens when the mind forces itself to pay attention? It creates a resistance to prevent other thoughts from seeping in; it is concerned with resistance, with pushing away, therefore it is incapable of attention. That is true, is it not? When you struggle to pay attention to something, other thoughts come in and you have to keep pushing them away; your whole energy goes into that battle. So there is no attention as long as effort is made to pay attention. Similarly, there is no attention when you are examining a problem with the hope of resolving it, or with the hope of getting a reward out of it. Is that not so? Are you getting tired? Audience: No, sir. Krishnamurti: But I see people yawning. Sirs, all this may be somewhat new to you, and listening is bound to be a very tiring process for you if your mind is struggling to follow. Don't struggle to follow, just listen, play with it, and you will understand much more than when you struggle. So there is obviously no attention when the mind forces itself to attend. Nor is there attention when the mind is seeking a reward, when it is avoiding, escaping, wanting, because in that state your mind is distracted. To understand something totally you must give your complete attention to it. But you will soon find out how extraordinarily difficult that is, because your mind is used to being distracted, so you say, "By Jove, it is good to pay attention, but how am I to do it?" That is, you are back again with the desire to get something, so you will never pay complete attention. You must see for yourself the importance of being completely attentive, not just to what I am saying, but to everything in life. When you see a tree or a bird, for example, to pay complete attention is not to say, "That is an oak", or, "That is a parrot", and walk by. In giving it a name you have already ceased to pay attention. To look at the moon with complete attention is to look at it without saying, "That is the moon, it will be full moon the day-after-tomorrow", and so on, chattering all the time to yourself or to somebody else. But we never look at anything in that way. Whereas, if you are wholly aware, totally attentive when you look at something, then you will find that a complete transformation takes place, and that total attention is the good. There is no other; and you cannot get total attention by practice. By practice you get concentration, that is, you build up walls of resistance, and within those walls of resistance is the concentrator; but that is not attention, it is exclusion. To understand the totality of a thing, there must be the absence of the `me', the `me' being preoccupation with `my wife', `my children', `my property', `my job', with who is ahead of me and whether I can get ahead of him. The `me' includes the Atman. Don't divide the Atman from the `me', because the `me', which is the process of thinking, has invented the Atman, and if there is no thinking there is no Atman. Try it and you will find that when all thought completely ceases - when it is not induced to cease, but really ceases - there is a state of being which is not the Atman invented by the mind. So the questioner wants to know what it is that enables one to see the problem in its entirety. Can one see the problem in its entirety? Most of us have never even asked ourselves that question, have we, sirs? All that we are concerned with is how to solve the problem, and the quicker it is solved, at whatever level, the more satisfied we are. We have never put to ourselves the question, "Can I look at the problem entirely, totally?" The moment you seriously ask yourself that question you will find that you are doing it, you are looking at the problem in its totality, because then you are not concerned with interpretation, evaluation, and all the rest of the nonsense. You are completely watching the problem without naming it. To watch a thing in its entirety you cannot name it, because the very naming process is a distraction. And what has happened to a mind that is free from naming, evaluating, comparing? Such a mind is capable of total awareness - not a continued total awareness, which is silly, because the moment anything continues it has no life in it, it is already dead. Only the mind that is capable of seeing a problem in its totality, understands the problem, and is therefore free of the problem. Such a mind is in a state of extraordinary movement; but I cannot tell you of that movement, you have to find it for yourself. And a lazy mind, a mind that is ridden by authority, by tradition, by fear, can never find it. October 11, 1956 NEW DELHI 4TH PUBLIC TALK 24TH OCTOBER 1956 I think it would be a waste of time, and this a useless gathering, if we were to treat what has been said, and what is going to be said, as mere intellectual amusement. To rely on any form of stimulation invariably makes the mind heavy, dull, incapable of swift thought, and if we are merely using the talks as a different kind of stimulant, then I think it would be better if these meetings had not taken place at all. On the other hand, if we can examine profoundly the ways of our thinking in daily life and begin to understand the process of our own minds, then perhaps these meetings will be worth while. Though we may repeat certain words which have deep significance, most of us live very superficially; we live in a verbal world, a world of superficial actions and emotions. Our minds are shallow, petty, narrow, and one of the vital problems of life is how to make such a mind deep, rich and full. The mind that is burdened with knowledge is not a rich mind, but only the mind that has delved deeply into itself and discovered its own innumerable recesses, its secret ideas, motives, and is capable of penetrating, going beyond thought. I am using the word `mind' to mean not only the superficial mind of everyday activity, but also the unconscious mind, the mind which has many hidden compulsions and motives, the mind that is pursuing its secret fulfilments, that is aware of its frustrations, its capacities, its limitations, the mind that is ever seeking, ever probing. I am talking about the totality of the mind, the conscious as well as the unconscious. We know very little of that totality, because most of us only function in the upper layers of our consciousness; we are wholly occupied with our job, with the routine of life, with beliefs, dogmas, and the easy repetition of prayers, all of which the superficial mind clings to because it is convenient, profitable, and with that we are satisfied. Now, if we can go much more profoundly into the whole process of the mind, delve deeply into the unconscious, then perhaps we shall be able to find out for ourselves the full extent and limitation of the power of thinking. The unconscious is surely not a mystery, it is not a thing that we must learn about from psychologists, or from people who have studied philosophy. It is part of our daily existence and is constantly indicating something, giving hints, only our conscious mind is so occupied, so busy with its own trivial problems, that it has no time or attention to receive these intimations; but the hidden mind is there. It is no more sacred or holy than the conscious mind, because both are part of the total process of our consciousness, and to really go beyond the limitations of this consciousness, it seems to me that we must understand its ways. Most of us think that struggle, conflict, various sorrows and frustrations have to be gone through, that the mind must be disciplined, that certain things have to be conquered or put aside in order to arrive at a stage which is beyond the mind; but I do not think it is possible to go beyond the mind in that way. To find out what is beyond the mind, one must go into it very deeply and understand the ways of the mind; because the mind that has not completely understood itself projects ideas, illusions which assume a false reality. Until I understand the ways of my mind, the ways of the self, any urge to seek is based on the desires, the motives of the mind. So, without really understanding the ways of the mind, it is impossible to find out what is true. I may say that there is an Atman, an over-soul, a timeless reality, but it will be a mere repetition based on my conditioning, my belief, which has no validity. Until I understand the whole field of my thought, the total content of my mind, it is not possible to go beyond; and one must go beyond, because without discovering something totally new, life becomes very repetitive, very shallow, uncreative. So, how is the mind to understand itself? Is there within the field of the mind an entity who is superior to the mind? Do you understand, sirs? Is there within the process of thought an entity who is above and beyond thought, and who can therefore control thought? Or is the thing that we have called the Atman, the sublime, the soul, merely an invention of thought and therefore still within the field of thought? I think it is very important to understand this; because if there is a super-entity, an outside agent who is beyond our whole process of thinking, then it is no good our thinking about it, because it is not within the field of thought. We can think about something which we already know and are able to recognize; but to find that which is beyond the mind, thought must come to an end. Most of us believe, do we not?, that there is something beyond the mind, an observer who is watching not only the mind but the things of the mind, who is controlling, shaping, disciplining thought. Until we question whether there is such an entity beyond the mind, beyond the field of thought, we will look to that entity as a means of guiding our life and shaping our conduct. Now, is there such an entity as the Atman, the soul, or what you will, which is shaping, guiding, helping us to live a sane, balanced life? Or is that entity within the field of our own thinking an invention of our own thought, and therefore not real? The mind is the product of time, of innumerable experiences, it is the result of many conditionings. The Communist does not believe in an Atman, a soul, because he has been conditioned to believe otherwise, as you have been conditioned to believe that there is a soul, an Atman. You start with a postulate, an assertion, as he also does, both resulting from a mind which is conditioned. Until one really sees this fact and deeply realizes its significance, the mind is incapable of going beyond itself - or, to put it differently, thought can never be still, the mind can never be completely quiet, because there is always the observer and the observed; there is always the experiencer who is wishing for greater experience, so our life becomes the endless series of struggles which it actually is. When you have an experience which is pleasurable, you want to repeat it, and when the experience is painful, you as the experiencer want to put away the pain. The thinker is inviting pleasure and discarding pain, so there is a constant battle going on within, which is obvious when you look into yourself. But you have the idea that the thinker, the observer, the watcher exists above and beyond thinking. You believe, because you have read in your religious books, that the Atman or soul exists and is watching thought. But if you look very closely you will see that where there is no thinking there is no thinker; where there is no demand for more and more experience, and no gathering of experience, there is no experiencer. We have stipulated that there is an entity who is beyond all this. But that entity is still the result of thinking and so still within the field of time; therefore it is not timeless, nor something divine. After all, what is the mind? Please, sirs, do not merely listen to my words, to my explanations or descriptions, but watch your own mind in operation. I am not giving positive directions, because, as I explained, any positive thinking is really thoughtlessness. Whereas, if you can think negatively, Which is to observe your own mind without directing, without telling it what to do - because the director, the entity who says, "This is right, that is wrong", is still part of the mind - , if you can merely watch your mind as you would observe a flower, without demanding anything, without translating what you see, then you will discover that this very observation brings clarification, because the mind is not then seeking a result, it is not concerned with reward or punishment; it just wants to observe, to know what is true. And you cannot know what is true if there is a director who is already shaped by the past, by a particular conditioning. So please listen to find out for yourself; and you can find out for yourself only when you watch your own mind, that is, when the mind watches itself. Now, what is the mind? It is not only a series of responses to the various challenges which are always impinging upon us, but also a series of memories, conscious or unconscious, which are constantly shaping the present according to the conditioning of the past to conform to a future pattern. Watch yourself, sirs, don't merely listen to my words and repeat them. Watch yourself and you will see that your mind is a series of desires, and the urge to fulfil those desires, in which are involved fear and frustration. I want something, I can't get it, so I am frustrated, unhappy. You love me, I don't love you, therefore you feel frustrated, and so on and on. The mind is also a series of ideas related to the past and to our desires; that is the mind thinks in terms of progress. I am this, I want to be that, and I need time to arrive. Being envious, I say I must have time to arrive at the state of non-envy, which is what we call progress, evolution. But is it? Please watch your own mind in operation. Can thought progress towards truth, reality, God, or can it only move from the known to the known? And is thinking independent of memory, or is it merely the repetition of the background which is memory? All this is the content of the mind, the mind being both the conscious and the unconscious. In the unconscious are stored up the racial memories as well as the individual experiences which I have not understood; and all these memories, the collective and the individual, impinge on the mind in that process which we call thinking, do they not? Desire, fear, frustration, wanting to act wanting to improve, trying to fulfil oneself through some ambition, thinking that there is an Atman, a super-soul, or that there is none -all that is the mind. Now, if you do not understand the totality of the `me', that is, if the mind does not understand the totality of itself, its activity will always be within the field of its own making. Unless the mind breaks away from its conditioning, the conscious as well as the unconscious, there is no real inquiry, because your search will be according to your conditioning, and your experiences according to your background. The experiences of a man who has visions of Christ, Krishna, this or that, are obviously based on his background, his tradition. So a mind that is really seeking what is true, that wants to find out if there is truth, if there is reality, if there is God, must be free of its background; and without discovering what is true, our life becomes a repetitive pattern, modified by circumstances perhaps, but still a repetitive pattern, which we call progress, evolution. Now, let us go a little further. Being aware of this totality of itself, the mind realizes that any effort it makes to alter itself is still part of the same pattern, however modified. Do you understand? The mind that seeks freedom, for example, is a mind which has created the idea of freedom and is pursuing it. Knowing only bondage, it says, "I must be free", and then struggles to be free. So we have always thought that effort is necessary to be free; but if we realize that effort exists only when the mind has separated itself as the maker of effort, as the watcher, as the thinker apart from the bondage, then effort is seen to be futile. All right, sirs? Let me put it much more simply. My mind is in bondage to a tradition, and I want to be free of it, because I see how absurd it is for the mind to be enslaved by something. But the moment I have said, "The mind must be free", what has happened? I have created effort, have I not? And the effort is according to the new pattern of what I want to be. Let us look at it differently. If there is no watcher apart from the watched, if there is no observer apart from the observed, how can there be effort? There is effort only as long as there is a watcher who is trying to alter the thing watched. But if you understand that the watcher is the watched - which is not an intellectual formula; it is a tremendous experience to know that there is no thinker apart from thought - , then you will find that there is no effort at all. Then quite a different process comes into being, quite a different way of looking at what you call envy, or whatever it is that is watched. As long as there is an observer who is making an effort to reach a certain state, there must be conflict, and it is not through conflict that there is understanding. Now, this total process is the mind; and when the mind understands its total process, it becomes quiet, utterly still, because there is no desire to be or not to be. Such a mind is not made still, or induced to be still, but it becomes still because it has totally understood the content of itself. Then only is it possible to find out for yourself whether there is reality or not. Until your mind has come to that state, your assertions that there is or is not reality, God, or the Atman, have no meaning whatsoever. They are merely the repetitions of a mind that is conditioned like a gramophone record to repeat a phrase over and over again. So, self-knowledge is essential, but it is not to be found in books; self-knowledge arises from watching ourselves in the mirror of relationship, which reveals the whole operation of the mind. It is only when we have understood the totality of the mind that there is stillness. Question: In the process of thinking, one has to draw on one's knowledge and experience. Are you not doing the same? Then why do you condemn knowledge and experience? Krishnamurti: Well, sirs, this is a very interesting question, because if we can go into it really carefully it will be very revealing. Words are necessary for communication. If I talked in the Chinese language, for example, you would not understand. So words which have a common meaning for you and me are a means of communication. These words are stored up in the mind as memory. That is one fact. Another fact is that most of us have experiences of innumerable kinds stored up as memory, and from this background of memory there is a response. If you did not know where you lived, there would obviously be something very wrong with you. Knowledge is a series of experiences, not only of the individual but also of the collective. Scientific knowledge, the knowledge based on your own experiences, the experiences arising from your particular conditioning - all this has been stored up in the mind as memory. That is the background, is it not? And most of us function from that background. That is, if I have been brought up as a Hindu, if that is my tradition, my background, and I meet a Moslem, my reaction is immediate; I don't like him, though I may be tolerant because I am civilized. So when I meet someone new I respond according to my conditioning, my prejudices, as he responds according to his. That is our state, is it not? Now, the questioner asks, "Why do you condemn knowledge and experience?" I am not condemning. I must have knowledge to go where I live, or to build a bridge, or to communicate certain things to you. I must have knowledge not to burn myself. To keep on burning myself would be stupid, neurotic. What I am saying is that experience based on knowledge, on one's background, is merely the continuation of that background, and therefore there is no new experience. Surely that is simple. If I am translating every challenge in terms of my conditioning, there is no new experience. I can respond to the challenge anew only when my mind has understood and freed itself from the background. If the mind is to discover anything new, it cannot depend on knowledge, which is based on conditioning, memory, experience, and so on. So what has happened? The questioner wants to know if I am not doing that very thing when I am speaking. I am depending on words to communicate, obviously. But there is something more implied in the question, which is: "Are you not speaking from the knowledge of some past experience which you have had?" I will explain what I mean. Let us say I was happy yesterday. There was a lovely sunset, and the dark hills outlined against the setting sun, with a single tree and many birds; it was an extraordinarily beautiful thing to behold, to feel. Now, in speaking to you of that sunset, am I living in the memory of it, or am I free of that memory and am merely describing the experience without the emotional content? Do you understand what I am talking about? No? Sirs, this is very interesting, and you will find out something if you watch your own mind and not just listen to my words. Your life is based on past experience, and your past experiences are shaping your present thinking. Now, is it possible to be in a state of experiencing, and not in a state of having had experience? Do you understand the difference? They are two entirely different states: the state of experiencing and the state of having had experience. Experiencing is a living process, whereas the other is not, it is the memory of an experience which is over. "From which state do you talk?" That is what the questioner wants to know. I am doing all the thinking, am I not? Now, what is the actual fact with most of us? Don't bother with me for the time being. What is the fact with you? You are thinking, and your thought is based on past experience, which is what you call knowledge. So your mind is living in the past; it is living on experience that you have had, or on experience that you hope to have, based on your conditioning, on your knowledge. Are you ever aware of the other state, the state of experiencing? Or are you only aware of the experience when it is over? Do you follow? Look, sirs, when you are happy, are you aware that you are happy? When something delights you, are you aware that you are delighted? The moment you know that you are happy, happiness is gone. The moment you are aware that you are virtuous, virtue has obviously ceased to be; therefore the cultivation of virtue is a self-centred activity, and not virtue at all. So the questioner wants to know whether I speak from a past experience which is remembered and communicated through words, or whether experiencing and communicating are going on simultaneously. Is that clear? To put it differently, the word `love' can be communicated. You and I both know that word. Now, if you have had the taste of love, you can speak of that experience from the past; but if you are living, experiencing love, you can communicate it, and that is a state entirely different from the other, which is to experience and then communicate. If you understand this, if you really see the falseness of the one and the truth of the other, then your mind is in a state of continual experiencing, which is not to experience a thing and then communicate it. Reality is something which is living, it cannot be recognized through experience and then communicated through words. When you are feeling something intensely, living it, communication has meaning, but it has no meaning when you have had an experience and repeat that experience from memory. Sirs, when you repeat the word `Atman', when you quote the Gita, the Upanishads, and other sacred books, the mind is merely a repetitive machine; but if the mind sees the futility of all that and is free - not free from something, but free - , then it is in a state of experiencing which never ceases. Do you understand, sirs? There is always the state of experiencing, therefore the mind is always fresh, young, innocent; and only such a mind can understand that which is immeasurable. Question: We find the need for discipline even in our daily living. Is not discipline necessary for the proper education of the young? Krishnamurti: Sir, what do we mean by discipline? Don't be on the defensive, I am not attacking you; don't put me in the position of the prosecutor, with you as the defendant. We are trying to understand. What do we mean by discipline? Does it not mean conforming to a pattern which society has laid down, or which you have established for yourself? That is one form of discipline. Discipline also means suppression. I have a certain feeling, but the guru, the authority says, "No, you must suppress it". Discipline also means creating a pattern for my action in order to achieve my ambition, does it not? I want to be the biggest something, so I discipline myself according to my ambition. Now, what happens when you suppress, conform, adjust yourself to a pattern? What has happened to a mind that has forced itself to fit into a mould? Obviously it is a dead mind, it is not a living mind. As we build barriers to keep the river from overflowing its banks and inundating the land, so the mind is held in a particular pattern. To hold the mind in a pattern we need discipline, and so we say discipline is essential even in our daily life. Do you follow, sirs? I am just investigating the implications of discipline. What you suppress remains in the unconscious and keeps on acting in various ways. Through discipline you merely push it further down, thereby giving it greater vitality to repeat in different directions. All this is implied in the discipline which you think is necessary. You say, "If I do not discipline myself, I shall lead a chaotic, miserable and stupid life", but you are leading a chaotic, miserable and stupid life as it is. Similarly the educator says, "We must discipline the child, because look what has happened to students in universities all over India". But is discipline what is needed in our life, or is it the understanding of the whole process of discipline? - which will bring its own order, an order not imposed by society or by ambition. Order is obviously essential in life, but not order according to a tradition. Now, the questioner asks, "Is not discipline necessary for the proper education of the young?" What do you mean by education? When you say that you must educate the child, what do you mean by that? Essentially you mean that he must be taught to conform to society, he must learn a technique so that he can get a job and be capable of earning a livelihood. Is not that what you are all concerned with? And you also teach him about so-called religion -or, if you are a Communist, you want him to accept Communism, and so on and on. The governments throughout the world want the educated to be efficient, to be trained to kill in the name of the country, to be capable of building dams, or to possess other engineering and technical capacities; and you also are concerned with that. You want the student to fit himself into the pattern of society, to conform to tradition and be able to earn a livelihood; so you are really not concerned with the child at all, are you? You are only concerned with what he should be, and the government is also concerned with that; and to make him what he should be is what we call education, is it not? Seeing this whole process, you say, "How are we to educate the child differently, creatively, without inventing new patterns, new ways of conditioning?" Before going into that, we have first to find out if you are an educator, if you are a parent who really loves his child - and I doubt that you do love your child. If you loved your child you would not want him to fit into this rotten society; on the contrary, you would help him to be free so that he could create a new society with totally different values. If you really loved your child you would stop all wars, and you would not think in terms of hierarchical authority. If you deeply understood all this and really meant it, what would you do as an educator, as a parent? Life is a series of influences, you cannot avoid them. Every book, every newspaper, everything that you read, hear or see is being imprinted on your mind, which is shaped by these influences, and you choose one influence as opposed to another depending on your tradition, your environment, your society. So the child is conditioned from the very beginning by the many influences about him, and the wise educator will obviously point all this out, helping the child to be aware of these influences and to be free of them without creating a new conditioning which he thinks is nobler. No system, no method, will help the child to be free from influence. The parent as well as the teacher has to be very watchful not to be caught in any influence, which means that he must have a very alert mind; but neither the parent nor the teacher has an alert mind. Most of us think that we shall have an alert mind by creating a new method, a new system, and we look to the system, the method, the technique to help us to be free - which is an impossibility. Only when the mind of the educator, of the parent, understands the whole process of discipline, with all its implications, is it possible to help the child to be free. Freedom is not at the end but at the beginning. I have spoken for an hour and five minutes. There is one more question. Can you bear it if I go into it? Audience: Yes, sir. Krishnamurti: Which means that you are merely listening to my words and not watching your own mind. If you were watching your own mind and had observed all the things implied in what you have heard, you would be exhausted, obviously, because your mind is not accustomed to being acutely watchful, alert. I am not criticizing you, sirs; I would not be so impudent, and I mean it. But when you say, "Please go on", it indicates a great deal, because if you took one question like discipline, or what is experience, and went completely into it, followed it to the very end, you would not need to ask any other question, for you would have found the totality of all questions and all answers. But unfortunately, most of us ask many questions, hoping that by putting many parts together we shall come to the whole. The whole is not understood through the part. The whole must be seen immediately. I think that is enough for this evening. October 24, 1956 NEW DELHI 5TH PUBLIC TALK 28TH OCTOBER 1956 I think one of our greatest difficulties is the incapacity to resolve our human problems. We have many human problems, one after another, and most of us seem to be utterly incapable of resolving them. And is it possible to gather this capacity through the process of time, or does it come into being, not so much through the process of time, but with the immediate comprehension of the problem? It seems to me that it is not a matter of cultivating capacity, but rather of applying an attention which is not distracted. I will explain what I mean. We all have many conflicting human problems, social, economic, religious, and so on; and we are aware of these problems, not only individually, in our private lives, but also collectively. We see that the present society is everlastingly in conflict with itself, and that within it there is always the factor of deterioration; and we also see that in our own minds, however eager, alert, there is this same process of deterioration going on. Now, is it possible for the mind to tackle all these problems as a whole, and not partially, one by one? Do you understand? We are confronted with this complex of problems and we think we can resolve it by tackling the problems one by one, trying to do something about the part unrelated to the whole. The politician, for example, always deals with a part and not with the whole, so he can never bring about peace, though he may talk about it. It is like pruning a branch when the whole root system of the tree is without proper nourishment, insufficiently watered, and so on. So what is important is to see that the complex problem of human existence is not to be solved little by little, one part at a time, but must be attacked totally, as a whole, and I think that is where our difficulty lies. Through education, through tradition, we have created the division of a religious life and a worldly life, a spiritual formula and a material technique, and with this fragmentary outlook we are trying to resolve our many conflicts. It is this fragmentary outlook, I think, which is the real cause of the multiplication of our conflicts, and not the lack of capacity to deal with the problem. We think we lack that capacity and so we look to some authority to help us, we practise discipline in various forms, and so on; but I don't think that is the issue. The issue is not the cultivation of a particular technique, or the following of a particular path, but to see that we are not approaching life as a totality. There is no such thing as an isolated existence. Nothing can exist in isolation, for everything is related to something else. If we can actually feel the truth of this and not just grasp it intellectually, that is, if the mind can look at the whole complex of existence and see it as an interrelated totality, which is not to create a series of divisions and partial understandings, then I think we shall deal with our problems from a completely different point of view. So, can the mind empty itself of its Hindu, Christian, or Buddhist way of thinking? Can it cease to think as a politician, an ambitious man, a virtuous man, and so on, and not function in part all the time? Can it stop looking at life fragmentarily? Can you free yourself, for example, from the idea that you are an Indian, an American, a Russian, or a Communist - free yourself, not just from the word, but from the whole content of the word, from the whole tradition and outlook - , and think as a human being who has got to deal with the complex problem of existence? Surely, life must be dealt with, not according to any particular pattern, system or ideology, but as an integrated whole; and the question invariably arises, "How am I to do it, what is the method?" Now, there is no `how'. There is a `how' in the cultivation of the fragmentary outlook; but the outlook which is complete, which sees the whole problem of existence at once, cannot be cultivated through any method. So what is one to do? Surely, what is necessary is that you, who were born in this or that country, who have been educated or conditioned according to certain traditions and beliefs, should see that your education, your conditioning, does interfere with the perception of the whole - the whole being man with his many problems. That is, you must be capable of dealing with the problems of life, not as the Communist, the Socialist, the Hindu, or the so-called religious person would deal with them, but as a human being who is constantly responding to the challenge anew. A mind that does not respond fully and adequately to the challenge of life soon finds itself in a state of deterioration. Only the mind that is capable of meeting the challenge totally, adequately, that responds fully to what is demanded of it - only such a mind is not deteriorating. As long as the mind thinks in terms of the part and does not respond to the whole complex of existence, it can never resolve our many problems, however clever it may be in the political, economic, or so-called religious field. A mind whose thinking is fragmentary, partial, cannot respond to the challenge of life with freshness, with clarity; its response is incomplete, inadequate, and it is such a mind that has within it the deteriorating factor. If you and I realize this fact, really see the truth of it, then is a technique necessary? Do you understand the issue? What is important, surely, is to see the necessity of approaching life anew, not with the bias of Hinduism, Communism, and all the rest of the stupid stuff - which means that one's mind must not think in terms of the old, nor create a future pattern based on the old. One must be capable of approaching the problem, whatever it be, with a mind that is entirely devoid of any fragmentary separative, or partial outlook, and I think this is the basic issue confronting the world. We are neither Indians, nor Americans, nor Hungarians, but human beings. This is our earth, to be lived on totally, and we cannot live a total life if we are thinking as Christians, Buddhists, Communists, or what you will. Now, if you have really listened to this, if you really see it, feel completely the necessity of it, then your mind is already free from the conditioning of the past; and when that conditioning does arise, you will know how to deal with it, because your mind is thinking in terms of the whole and not of the part. To respond anew to any challenge - and challenge is always new - , the mind must totally empty itself of the past. The past cannot be revived. The idea of reviving an old religion, however fascinating, is really detrimental. A thing that is dead cannot be revived, and religion is not a matter of revival. Religion is something entirely different from the social conditioning of the mind. A man who is a Hindu, a Buddhist, or a Christian, and who seeks reality along that path, will never find it. There is no path to God. Paths have been invented by man for his convenience, and however assiduously he may follow the path to which his mind has been conditioned, he will never find reality because he is thinking in part; and that is why he does not know the quality of love. Love is not a thing of the mind, and one can understand the totality of love only when the mind can look at life as a whole and not as a part. There are several questions which we are going to consider, and in doing so we are not trying to find an answer to the problem, but rather to think out the problem together. We seek an answer when we don't understand the problem. If you and I understand the problem, no answer is necessary; but a mind that is seeking a solution, expecting an answer, will only increase the problem, because it is moving away from the problem and is not concerned with the problem itself. This is something which I think it is very important to understand and to feel the truth of: that the answer, the solution to a problem lies in the problem itself and not away from it. A mind which looks for an answer is not concerned with the problem, it is concerned with the answer; therefore it is incapable of looking at the problem and understanding it. Nor is the mind capable of understanding the problem if it starts with a conclusion. Surely, the mind that thinks from a conclusion is not thinking at all. If I have a conclusion about what love should be and what it should not be, and start my thinking process from there, my mind is obviously not thinking; it is only moving from one conclusion to another, which is what most minds do. Having never understood what it is to love, they function only in the intellectual realm of conclusions, and therefore their world is barren. So, in considering these questions, we are not looking for an answer, and please bear this in mind. An answer is very cheap to come by; you can find it in any book, or buy it from any authority -give him a garland, or a few rupees, and there is your answer. The man who really wishes to understand the problem has to put aside all temptation to find an answer; but that is not the only difficulty. He has also to start without any conclusion. The mind that is burdened with a conclusion is incapable of looking at the problem, therefore it can only increase and multiply the problem. Question: Sleep is a period of rest for both the mind and the body. What is it that actuates dreams? Krishnamurti: What is a dream, and why do we dream? And is it possible not to dream at all? We know that we dream and that there are various kinds of dreams. Some dreams are very superficial, while others have a deep significance, the implications of which we are incapable of understanding, so we turn to a psychologist for an interpretation; but the interpreter of dreams obviously interprets according to his conditioning, which means that we become slaves to the interpreter. I hope you see all this. First there is a dream, and then the effort to find out the meaning or significance of the dream; and finally there is the question of whether the mind need dream at all - which may be the really important issue, and not the other. Please, we are trying to think out this problem together. Watch your own mind at work, do not merely listen to my words. I am describing the process of dreaming, but if you are content with the description, at the end of it you will not understand and you will be left with the mere ashes of words. We dream. What does that mean? When the physical organism goes to sleep, the mind is still working, and this working of the mind in sleep is indicated by dreams - which does not mean that the mind is not functioning when we don't dream. The mind is not merely the upper levels of consciousness, it is also the unconscious, and in sleep it begins to dream. Why? Now, what is happening during the day, when the mind is not dreaming - at least when it thinks it is not dreaming? What is actually taking place? On the superficial levels the mind is very occupied with a job, with learning a particular technique, or what you will; it is busy, active, constantly occupied with many things. Being occupied during the day, the superficial mind is not open to the intimations of the unconscious, obviously; because as long as it is occupied, how can it listen to anything but its own occupation? It is closed, not only to the unconscious, but also to the extraordinary beauty of the skies, to the marvels of the earth, to the appalling poverty and squalor that exist about us. A mind that is occupied is incapable of being sensitive. But when the physical organism goes to sleep and the superficial mind, being tired out with the many occupations of the day, is relatively quiet, then in that quietness it is capable of receiving the intimations of the unconscious. These intimations take the form of symbols, visions, ideas, dreams. This is actually what happens, there is nothing mysterious about it. We may think we are having extraordinary experiences, meeting the Master and all that nonsense, but it is nothing of the kind. The unconscious is as conditioned as the conscious, and it projects certain ideas in the form of dreams. That is actually what is going on. The conscious mind, which is occupied during the day, is quiet during sleep, so the intimations of the unconscious are projected into it; and when you wake up you say, "I have had a dream". Then you want to find out the meaning of the dream, so you turn to some authority, or you try to interpret it yourself. That is one process. There is also another process, though I don't know if it has ever happened to you: one dreams, and as one dreams the interpretation is going on at the same time, so that when one wakes up there is no necessity for any further interpretation. Are you following all this just verbally, or are you actually feeling your way into it? If you don't really feel it, then you are merely listening to words and you will say at the end of it, "I have listened to you but I have not got anything". Perfectly right, because you will not have listened with the intention to find out for yourself, watching your own mind in operation. So the unconscious - which is a storehouse of racial memories, of cultural patterns, of innumerable experiences, individual as well as collective - wants to tell the conscious mind something; but the conscious mind, being active, occupied during the day, is incapable of receiving intimations from the unconscious except in the form of dreams when the physical organism sleeps. Now, the next question is, need the mind dream at all? If your mind is aware during the day - do you understand, sirs? It is not a matter of how to be aware - , just aware, actively alert and not merely occupied, watching the movement of a tree, or a bird, seeing the smile of a child, the attitude of a beggar, observing your own occupation, your routine, your reaction to what the boss says, how you treat your servants and curry the favour of the rich - if you watch all that, if you are really sensitive to all that, then you are receiving intimations from the unconscious all the time. It is not a very complicated process. You are awake on the superficial level, and at the same time the unconscious, which is the residue of the past, is telling you things like an encyclopedia. The conscious is no longer a thing separate from the unconscious, into which the unconscious has to project certain ideas during sleep. So, to the extent that you are alert, watchful, what is the necessity of dreaming at all? Is that clear? The mind is then astonishingly sensitive during the day, receiving and understanding from moment to moment, not withholding, not accumulating. Please listen to this. The moment you accumulate you have a residue which becomes a dream that must be interpreted. A sensitive mind is not an accumulative mind; but the mind which has accumulated is insensitive, and this accumulation is the unconscious which must unburden, cleanse itself, and so it begins to project symbols and all the rest of it. If you are alert, sensitive, not only to what is happening in your own process of thinking, but to everything about you; if when you read the newspapers, or your sacred books, you are aware of all the stupidities contained in them; if, when you listen to your particular authority, you see his assumptions, his desire for power, position, knowing at the same time your own desire for power, position, authority - if you are awake to all that, then you will find that there is no longer a division between the conscious and the unconscious. Then experience leaves no residue, which means that there is no necessity for dreaming and the interpretation of dreams. What happens to a mind that is so astonishingly sensitive during the day that it is not withholding, not accumulating? What happens to such a mind when it goes to sleep? Is it asleep? Do you understand? The physical organism sleeps, naturally, because it must rest. But need the mind rest that has been so intensely alert all during the day? Or does such a mind continue in that state of sensitivity, but without the many impressions from outside, so that it is able to penetrate to great depths without any motivation, and is therefore capable, when the physical organism wakes up, of seeing something totally new? These are just words to you, naturally, because you have never experimented with all this. You have never been sensitive during the day, really active - which is not to be active in the sense of chattering, gossiping, being caught up in a routine, and all the rest of it. A mind that is really active is acutely sensitive to both the beautiful and the ugly, and for such a mind there is no longer the division of waking and sleeping, the conscious and the unconscious. Then the mind functions totally, as an integrated whole. Question: We all have moments of inward clarity, but we seem unable to relate these glimpses of light to our personal, national and international problems. Unless we can establish a relationship between clarity and action, of what value is this clarity? Krishnamurti: We all have moments of clarity, but that clarity is a rare thing and most of our life is spent in a state of contradiction, confusion and struggle. And the questioner asks "How can I, who know moments of clarity, apply this clarity to the confusion in which I live? Of what value is clarity if I don't relate it to my daily action?" Now, that is a wrong question, is it not? And if you put a wrong question, you will have a wrong answer. The question is, "Can our moments of clarity help us to bring order into our activities and live a better life?" I say that is a wrong question, because you have clarity only when confusion is not. You cannot relate clarity to confusion. When you do, you are still more confused. Do you understand? Clarity comes only when the mind is not occupied with itself, with its virtues, with its gods, with its little quarrels, ambitions and the whole petty business of its existence. When the mind is not occupied, there is clarity. Having felt that clarity, you say, "How can I relate it to my ambition?" Obviously you cannot. That clarity is of no value in terms of your ambition, yet that is what all the religio-political leaders say - that God must intervene in your life, must guide you, show you how to be free or spiritual. But God is not interested in your petty little mind, obviously, because it is only when the mind ceases to function in its own frame that there is clarity. So our function is not to pursue clarity. A petty mind cannot see the immeasurable. All that it can do is to free itself from pettiness -which is to cease to be ambitious. An ambitious man may talk of God, but that is merely a political trick of the exploiter. It is only when we cease to be envious, greedy, when we have real love and not ideas about love - it is only then that there is a clarity unrelated to that which is petty. Do you understand, sirs? How can a petty mind, a mind which is confused, contradictory, ambitious, vain, stupid, mediocre, understand that which is sweeping, limitless? We have occasional glimpses of something wide, full, rich, and we say, "How can I relate that state to the petty mind?" When we put a wrong question, we shall have a wrong answer; and our life is full of wrong answers, because we are always putting wrong questions. Question: Our most constant fear throughout life is the fear of death. Are we afraid of dying because we do not want to part with life, or because we do not know what lies beyond? Krishnamurti: Sir, this is a very complex question involving many problems: the problem of karma or cause-effect, the problem of complete loneliness, and the whole problem of seances, materialization, of trying to meet again an individual whom you have known and who you think lives on the other side. Then there is also involved the belief in reincarnation, or in some form of resurrection. So this question has many side issues, and we cannot go into all of them now. Perhaps we can discuss them another time. Let us tackle the main issue, for if we can understand that, we shall be able to deal with the secondary issues. Again, please listen, not just to my words, but to the whole feeling of what is being said; because it is your life you are concerned with, not my life. I shall be going away from here in a few days, which is probably a good thing, and your concern is not with me but with your own daily existence, with the misery, the fear, the turmoil, the anxiety, and the innumerable other things that make up your life. So this is your problem and you have to deal with it, therefore you are not merely listening to my words. Now, what is living and what is dying, and why do we divide living from dying? Is living apart from the process of dying? That is the primary issue involved in this question, is it not? If I really understand the primary issue, then I can go after the side issues with a full heart and resolve them; but unless I understand the primary issue, I cannot deal with the secondary. The primary issue is, do I know what living is? And if I know what living is, then will I be frightened of dying? Surely, if I know what living is, then in that very living my mind will understand the full significance of dying. So we are now going to find out what is living. What do we mean by living? And are we living? Living for most of us is a routine, a series of repetitious happenings: going to the office, sex, repeating some mantram, following an authority, accumulating and translating in our own terms other people's experience and knowledge, thinking it is something original, and so on. That whole process is what you call living, and if you are aware of it, watch it critically, you will see there is nothing in it that is original, pristine, unpremeditated. You are full of the Gita, of the Bible, you merely repeat what Christ or Krishna has said; you are driven by sex, or by the desire to fulfil some ambition with all its frustration and ugly horror. You beget a child, and through the child, through property, you try to find immortality; your child is important because he is carrying on your name. Do you understand, sirs? All that is what you call living. Now, is that living? Is living a process of satisfaction and sorrow, a mere series of events, or is living something entirely different? And what do we mean by dying? Seeing that the physical organism dies through long use, disease, or accident, the mind says, "I have accumulated, I have suffered, I have acquired virtue, I have worked for my country, for God; and what will happen to me when the physical organism dies? Is there a continuity in the hereafter?" There is a continuity in our living which is mere repetition. Do you understand, sirs? If you look into your own mind, into your own heart, do you see anything living, or merely a process of repetition? There is a repetition, a continuity in so-called living, and you say, "When I die, that repetition, that centre of continuity must go on". Is it not so? To put it differently, the `me' that has learned, suffered, accumulated, has not fulfilled, and you say, "Must it not have another chance?" So the `me' is a complex entity made up of accumulated memory, and that is what you want to continue. You may think there is an Atman, an entity beyond time, but that is still within the field of thinking and therefore part of the whole process of continuance. What you are concerned with, then, is a continuance, and therefore you are frightened of an ending. You say, "I have lived, worked so much, and if I shall come to an end at death, what is the good of it all?" So either you become a rationalist, brushing death away intellectually, or you invent a comforting theory called reincarnation and continue in that. I am not against reincarnation. I am showing you the whole process of how the mind operates. I want to know what death is, as I know what living is. I see that repetition, in which there is the burden of tradition, memory, is not living; and because I see the falseness or the truth of not living, I know what living is. Are you getting what I am talking about? Is this clear? A mind that is caught in the net of repetition is not living. I see the truth of that; therefore, seeing the truth of that, I am free of repetition. Please listen. I know that living is not a repetition; it is something incredibly new every minute, something which has never been experienced before. And as I know what living is in the real sense of the word, I must also know what dying is. Now, can I experience dying as I know what living is? Through living, can I also experience dying? If I don't, I am not living. Do you understand? Dying is part of living, and if I understand only one part I am insensitive to the whole. Therefore I must understand, know what death means, experience it, not in moments of accident or disease, when the physical mechanism wears out, but while I am living, healthy, active. Sirs, this is not a theory, this is not oratory, nor is this a meeting for you to be intellectually stimulated by; if you are, you will be dull human beings afterwards. So I want to know what it means to die. Dying is a coming to an end, is it not? - not only of the physical organism, but of the mind which thinks in terms of continuity. To die is to cease to be; it is the cessation of being as we know it, which is a continuity. Do you understand, sirs? `My house', `my property', `my job', `my wife', `my virtues', and all the rest of it, is a continuity; and death may be the ending of that continuity. Can I end consciously, with the full feeling of what I am doing, this whole process of continuity? Sirs, don't agree or disagree with me, don't say, "I can" or "I cannot", because you don't know what it means. You don't know what it means to live, if you did, you would never put this question about what it means to die, because then there would be no continuity. Death is this living without continuity. Surely, a mind that is living invites or enters the house of death, because it must also know the meaning, the whole significance of that word. Such a mind is not concerned with reincarnation, whether it is true or false, because it is thinking in a different field altogether. Surely, that which has continuance is not capable of being creative. Only in that which ends is there a possibility of renewal. Do you understand, sirs? A mind that lives, that has continuance in memory - what can such a mind know of anything new? It can only know its own vanity, its own projections. There is renewal only for the mind that dies to all its yesterdays, literally dies, so that it has no sense of property. You may then live in a house, but it has no value as yours; you keep it tidy, but you have no identification with it. Similarly with your son, your daughter, your wife. This non-identification is love. Therefore a mind that has no identification through continuance is a mind that is really creative - which is not the creativeness of writing books, inventing new schemes, and all the rest of that nonsense. A mind that is creative is limitless, and only such a mind is not afraid of living and therefore not afraid of dying. October 28, 1956 NEW DELHI 6TH PUBLIC TALK 31ST OCTOBER 1956 It seems to me that what is important is not the problem, but the mind that approaches the problem. We have many problems of every kind: the growth of tyranny, the multiplication of conflicts in the individual as well as in the collective life, and the utter lack of any directive purpose in life except that which is artificially created by society or by the individual himself. Our many problems seem to be increasing, they are not diminishing. The more civilization has progressed, the greater has become the complexity of the problems of living, and I think most of us are aware that the various ways of life which most people follow - the Communist way of life, the so-called religious way of life, and the purely materialistic or progressive way of life, the life of many possessions - have not solved these problems. Seeing all this, those of us who are at all serious must have considered the question of how to bring about a change, not only in ourselves and in our relationship with particular individuals, but also in our relationship with the collective, with society. Our problems multiply, but as I said, I don't think the problem, whatever it be, is the real issue. The real issue, surely, is the mind that approaches the problem. If my mind is incapable of dealing with a problem, and I act, the problem multiplies, does it not? That is a fairly obvious fact. And seeing that whatever it does with regard to the problem only multiplies the problem, what is the mind to do? Do you understand the issue? The problem - whether it be the problem of God, the problem of starvation, the problem of collective tyranny in the name of government, and so on - exists at different levels of our being, and we approach it hoping to solve it, which I think is a wrong approach altogether, because we are laying emphasis on the problem. It seems to me that the real problem is the mind itself, and not the problem which the mind has created and tries to solve. If the mind is petty, small, narrow, limited, however great and complex the problem may be, the mind approaches that problem in terms of its own pettiness. If I have a little mind and I think of God, the God of my thinking will be a little God, though I may clothe him with grandeur, beauty, wisdom, and all the rest of it. It is the same with the problem of existence, the problem of bread, the problem of love, the problem of sex, the problem of relationship, the problem of death. These are all enormous problems, and we approach them with a small mind, we try to resolve them with a mind that is very limited. Though it has extraordinary capacities and is capable of invention, of subtle, cunning thought, the mind is still petty. It may be able to quote Marx, or the Gita, or some other religious book, but it is still a small mind; and a small mind confronted with a complex problem can only translate that problem in terms of itself, and therefore the problem, the misery increases. So the question is, can the mind that is small, petty, be transformed into something which is not bound by its own limitations? Are you following what I am talking about, or am I not making myself clear? Take, for example, the problem of love, which is very complex. Though I may be married, have children, unless there is that sense of beauty, the depth and clarity of love, life is very shallow, without much meaning; and I approach love with a very small mind. I want to know what it is, but I have all kinds of assumptions about it, I have already clothed it with my petty mind. So the problem is not how to understand what love is, but to free from its own pettiness the mind that approaches the problem, and the minds of most people are petty. By a petty mind I mean a mind that is occupied. Do you understand? A mind that is occupied with God, with plans, with virtue, with how to carry out what certain authorities say about economics or religion; a mind that is occupied with itself, with its own development, with culture, with following a certain way of existence; a mind that is occupied with an identity, with a country, belief, or ideology - such a mind is a petty mind. When you are occupied with something, what happens psychologically, inwardly? There is no space in your mind, is there? Have you ever watched your own mind in operation? If you have, you will know that it is everlastingly busy with itself. An ambitious man is concerned from morning till night, and during his sleep, with his successes and failures, with his frustrations, with his innumerable demands and the fulfilment of his ambition. He is like the so-called religious man who endlessly repeats a certain phrase, or is occupied with an ideal and with trying to conform to that ideal. So the mind that is occupied is a petty mind. If one really understands this, then quite a different process is at work. After all, a mind that is vain, arrogant, full of the desire for power, and that tries to cultivate humility, is occupied with itself; therefore it is a petty mind. The mind that is trying to improve itself through the acquisition of knowledge, that is trying to become very clever, to be more powerful, to have a better job - such a mind is petty. It may occupy itself with God, with truth, with the Atman, or with sitting in the seats of the mighty, but it is still a petty mind. So what happens? Your mind is petty, occupied, it starts with certain conclusions, assumptions, it posits certain ideas, and with this occupied mind you try to solve the problem. When a small mind meets an enormous problem there is action, obviously, and that action does produce a result - the result being an increase of the problem; and if you observe, that is exactly what is happening in the world. The people in the big seats are occupied with themselves in the name of the country; like you and me, they want position, power, prestige. We are all in the same boat, and with petty little minds we are trying to solve the extraordinary problems of living, problems which demand an unoccupied mind. Life is a vital, moving thing, is it not? Therefore one must come to it afresh, with a mind that is not wholly occupied, that is capable of some space, some emptiness. Now, what is the state of the mind that knows it is occupied and sees that occupation is petty? That is, when I realize that my mind is occupied, and that an occupied mind is a petty mind, what happens? I don't think we see sufficiently clearly the truth that an occupied mind is a petty mind. Whether the mind is occupied with self-improvement, with God, with drink, with sexual passion or the desire for power, it is all essentially the same, though sociologically these various occupations may have a difference. Occupation is occupation, and the mind that is occupied is petty because it is concerned with itself. If you see, if you actually experience the truth of that fact, surely your mind is no longer concerned with itself, with its own improvement; so there is a possibility for the mind that has been enclosed to remove its enclosure. Just as an experiment, observe for yourself how your whole life is based on an assumption: that there is God or there is no God, that a certain pattern of living is better than other patterns, and so on. A mind which is occupied starts with an assumption, it approaches life with an idea, a conclusion. And can the mind approach a problem totally, removing all its conclusions, its previous experiences, which are also a form of conclusion? After all, a challenge is always new, is it not? If the mind is incapable of responding adequately to challenge, there is a deterioration, a going back; and the mind cannot respond adequately if it is consciously or unconsciously occupied, occupation being based on some ideology or conclusion. If you realize the truth of this, you will find that the mind is no longer petty, because it is in a state of inquiry, in a state of healthy doubt - which is not to have doubts about something, because that again becomes an occupation. A mind that is truly inquiring is not accumulating. It is the accumulating mind that is petty, whether it is accumulating knowledge, or money, power, position. When you see the truth of that totally, there is real transformation of the mind, and it is such a mind that is capable of dealing with the many problems. I am going to answer some questions, and as I have pointed out, the answer is. not important. What is important is the problem, and the mind cannot give undivided attention to the problem if it is distracted by trying to find a solution to the problem. All solutions are based on desire, and the problem exists because of desire -desire for a hundred things. Without understanding the whole process of desire, merely to respond to the problem through one particular activity of desire, hoping it will produce the right answer, will not bring about the dissolution of the problem. So we are concerned, not with an answer, but with the problem itself. Question: I entirely agree with you that it is necessary to uncondition one's mind. But how can a conditioned mind uncondition itself? Krishnamurti: The questioner states that he agrees with what I have said. Before we go into the question of unconditioning the mind, let us find out what we mean by agreement. You can agree with an opinion, with an idea; you cannot agree with a fact. You and I may agree in the sense that we share an opinion about a fact; but an opinion held by many does not make truth. To understand there must be a living, vital scepticism, not acceptance or agreement. If you merely agree with me, you are agreeing with an opinion which you think I have. I have no opinions, so we are not in agreement. If you and I both see a poisonous snake, there is no question of agreement: we both stay away from it. When we say we agree, we are intellectually agreeing about an idea; but this inquiry into how to free the mind from conditioning does not demand an intellectual agreement. As long as the mind is conditioned as a Hindu, a Communist, or what you will, it is incapable of thinking anew. That is not a matter of opinion. It is a fact. You don't have to agree. So the question is, how can a mind which is conditioned, uncondition itself? You realize that your mind is conditioned as a Hindu, with all the various beliefs of Hinduism, or as a Communist, a Christian, a Moslem, and so on. Your mind is conditioned, that is obvious. You believe in something, in the supernatural, in God, whereas another who has been brought up in a different social and psychological environment says there is no such thing, it is all rubbish. You are both conditioned, and your God is no more real than the no-God in which the other fellow believes. So, whether you like it or not, your mind is conditioned, not partially, but all the way through. Don't say the Atman is unconditioned. You have been told that the Atman exists, otherwise you don't know anything about it; and when you think of the Atman, your thought is conditioning the Atman. This again is so obvious. It is like the man who believes in Masters. He has been told there are Masters, and through his own desire for security he longs to find them; so he has visions, which are psychologically very simple and immature. Now, the question is this. I know that my mind is conditioned; and how am I to free my mind from conditioning when the entity that tries to free it is also conditioned? Do you understand the issue? When a conditioned mind realizes that it is conditioned and wishes to uncondition itself, that very wish is also conditioned; so what is the mind to do? Are you following this? Please, sirs, don't merely listen to my words, but watch your own minds in operation. This is a very difficult issue to discuss with such a large group, and unless you pay real attention you will not find the answer. I am not going to give you the answer, so you have to observe your own minds very intently. I know that my mind is conditioned as a Hindu, as a Buddhist, or whatever it is, and I see that any movement of the mind to uncondition itself is still conditioned. When the mind tries to uncondition itself, the maker of that effort is also conditioned, is he not? I hope I am explaining this. Sirs, can you not take a pill and stop coughing? I can go on, but coughing and taking notes disturbs the others who are listening. So I will begin again. Your mind is conditioned right through; there is no part of you which is unconditioned. That is a fact, whether you like it or not. You may say there is a part of you - the watcher, the super-soul, the Atman - which is not conditioned; but because you think about it, it is within the field of thought, therefore it is conditioned. You can invent lots of theories about it, but the fact is that your mind is conditioned right through, the conscious as well as the unconscious, and any effort it makes to free itself is also conditioned. So what is the mind to do? Or rather, what is the state of the mind when it knows that it is conditioned and realizes that any effort it makes to uncondition itself is still conditioned? Am I making myself clear? Now, when you say, "I know I am conditioned", do you really know it, or is that merely a verbal statement? Do you know it with the same potency with which you see a cobra? When you see a snake and know it to be a cobra, there is immediate, unpremeditated action; and when you say, "I know I am conditioned", has it the same vital significance as your perception of the cobra? Or is it merely a superficial acknowledgment of the fact, and not the realization of the fact? When I realize the fact that I am conditioned, there is immediate action. I don't have to make an effort to uncondition myself. The very fact that I am conditioned, and the realization of that fact, brings an immediate clarification. The difficulty lies in not realizing that you are conditioned - not realizing it in the sense of understanding all its implications, seeing that all thought, however subtle, however cunning, however sophisticated or philosophical, is conditioned. All thinking is obviously based on memory, conscious or unconscious, and when the thinker says, "I must free myself from conditioning", that very thinker, being the result of thought, is conditioned; and when you realize this, there is the cessation of all effort to change the conditioning. As long as you make an effort to change, you are still conditioned, because the maker of the effort is himself conditioned; therefore his effort will result in further conditioning, only in a different pattern. The mind that fully realizes this is in an unconditioned state, because it has seen the totality of conditioning, the truth or the falseness of it. Sirs, it is like seeing something true. The very perception of what is true is the liberating factor. But to see what is true demands total attention - not a forced attention, not the calculated, profitable attention of fear or gain. When you see the truth that whatever the conditioned mind does to free itself, it is still conditioned, there is the cessation of all such effort, and it is this perception of what is true that is the liberating factor. Question: How can I experience God, which will give a meaning to my weary life? Without that experience, what is the purpose of living? Krishnamurti: Can I understand life directly, or must I experience something which will give a meaning to life? Do you understand, sirs? To appreciate beauty, must I know what its purpose is? Must love have a cause? And if there is a cause to love, is it love? The questioner says he must have a certain experience that will give a meaning to life - which implies that for him life in itself is not important. So in seeking God he is really escaping from life, escaping from sorrow, from beauty, from ugliness, from anger, pettiness, jealousy and the desire for power, from the extraordinary complexity of living. All that is life, and as he does not understand it, he says, "I will find some greater thing which will give a meaning to life". Please listen to what I am saying, but not just at the verbal, intellectual level, because then it will have very little meaning. You can spin a lot of words about all this, read all the sacred books in the land, but it will be worthless because it is not related to your life, to your daily existence. So, what is our living? What is this thing that we call our existence? Very simply, not philosophically, it is a series of experiences of pleasure and pain, and we want to avoid the pains while holding on to the pleasures. The pleasure of power, of being a big man in the big world, the pleasure of dominating one's little wife or husband, the pain, the frustration, fear and anxiety which come with ambition, the ugliness of playing up to the man of importance, and so on - all that goes to make up our daily living. That is, what we call living is a series of memories within the field of the known; and the known becomes a problem when the mind is not free of the known. Functioning within the field of the known - the known being knowledge, experience and the memory of that experience - , the mind says, "I must know God". So, according to its tradition, according to its ideas, its conditioning, it projects an entity which it calls God; but that entity is the result of the known, it is still within the field of time. So you can find out with clarity, with truth, with real experience whether there is God or not, only when the mind is totally free from the known. Surely, that something which may be called God or truth must be totally new, unrecognizable, and a mind that approaches it through knowledge, through experience, through ideas and accumulated virtues, is trying to capture the unknown while living in the field of the known, which is an impossibility. All that the mind can do is to inquire whether it is possible to free itself from the known. To be free from the known is to be completely free from all the impressions of the past, from the whole weight of tradition. The mind itself is the product of the known, it is put together by time as the `me' and the `not-me', which is the conflict of duality. If the known totally ceases, consciously as well as unconsciously - and I say, not theoretically, that there is a possibility of its ceasing - , then you will never ask if there is God,because such a mind is immeasurable in itself; like love, it is its own eternity. Question: I have practised meditation most earnestly for twenty-five years, and I am still unable to go beyond a certain point. How am I to proceed further? Krishnamurti: Before we inquire into how to proceed further, must we not find out what meditation is? When I ask, "How am I to meditate?", am I not putting a wrong question? Such a question implies that I want to get somewhere, and I am willing to practise. a method in order to get what I want. It is like taking an examination in order to get a job. Surely, the right question is to ask what meditation is; because right meditation gives perfume, depth, significance to life, and without it life has very little meaning. Do you understand, sirs? To know what is right meditation is much more important than earning a livelihood, getting married, having money, property, because without understanding, these things are all destroyed. So the understanding of the heart is the beginning of meditation. I want to know what is meditation. I hope you will follow this, not just verbally, but in your own hearts, because without meditation you can know nothing of beauty, of love, or sorrow, of death and the whole expanse of life. The mind that says, "I must learn a method in order to meditate" is a silly mind, because it has not understood what meditation is. So, what is meditation? Is not that very inquiry the beginning of meditation? Do you understand, sirs? No? I will go on and you will see. Is meditation a process of concentration, forcing the mind to conform to a particular pattern? That is what most of you do who `meditate'. You try to force your mind to focus on a certain idea, but other ideas creep in; you brush them away, but they creep in again. You go on playing this game for the next twenty years; and if at last you can manage to concentrate your mind on a chosen idea, you think you have learned how to meditate. But is that meditation? Let us see what is involved in concentration. When a child is concentrating on a toy, what is happening? The attention of the child is being absorbed by the toy. He is not giving his attention to the toy, but the toy is very interesting and it absorbs his attention. That is exactly what is happening to you when you concentrate on the idea of the Master, on a picture, or when you repeat mantrams, and all the rest of it. The toy is absorbing you, and you are merely a plaything of the toy. You thought you were the master of the toy, but the toy is the master. Concentration also implies exclusiveness. You exclude in order to arrive at a particular result, like a boy trying to pass an examination. The boy wants a profitable result, so he forces himself to concentrate, he makes tremendous effort to get what he wants, which is based on his desire, on his conditioning. And does not this process of forcing the mind to concentrate, which involves suppression, exclusiveness, make the mind narrow? A mind that is made narrow, one-pointed, has extraordinary possibilities in the sense that it may achieve a great deal; but life is not one-pointed, it is an enormous thing to be comprehended, to be loved. It is not petty. Sirs, this is not rhetoric, this is not mere verbiage. When one feels something real, the expression of it may sound rhetorical, but it is not. So, to concentrate is not to meditate, even though that is what most of you do, calling it meditation. And if concentration is not meditation, then what is? Surely, meditation is to understand every thought that comes into being, and not to dwell upon one particular thought; it is to invite all thoughts so that you understand the whole process of thinking. But what do you do now? You try to think of just one good thought, one good image, you repeat one good sentence which you have learnt from the Gita, the Bible, or what you will; therefore your mind becomes very narrow, limited, petty. Whereas, to be aware of every thought as it arises, and to understand the whole process of thinking, does not demand concentration. On the contrary. To understand the total process of thinking, the mind must be astonishingly alert, and then you will see that what you call thinking is based on a mind that is conditioned. So your inquiry is not how to control thought, but how to free the mind from conditioning. The effort to control thought is part of the process of concentration in which the concentrator tries to make his mind silent, peaceful, is it not? "To have peace of mind" - that is a phrase which all of us use. Now, what is peace of mind? How can the mind be quiet, have peace? Surely, not through discipline. The mind cannot be made still. A mind that is made still is a dead mind. To discover what it is to be still, one must inquire into the whole content of the mind -which means, really, finding out why the mind is seeking. Is the motive of search the desire for comfort, for permanency, for reward? If so, then such a mind may be still, but it will not find peace, because its stillness is forced, it is based on compulsion, fear, and such a mind is not a peaceful mind. We are still inquiring into the whole process of meditation. People who `meditate' and have visions of Christ, Krishna, Buddha, the Virgin, or whoever it be, think they are advancing, making marvellous progress; but after all, the vision is the projection of their own background. What they want to see, they see, and that is obviously not meditation. On the contrary, meditation is to free the mind from all conditioning, and this is not a process that comes into being at a particular moment of the day when you are sitting cross-legged in a room by yourself. It must go on when you are walking when you are frightened, when you are getting into the bus; it means watching the manner of your speech when you are talking to your wife, to your boss, to your servant. All that is meditation. So meditation is the understanding of the meditator. Without understanding the one who meditates, which is yourself, inquiry into how to meditate has very little value. The beginning of meditation is self-knowledge, and self-knowledge cannot be gathered from a book, nor is it to be had by listening to some professor of psychology, or to someone who interprets the Gita, or any of that rubbish. All interpreters are traitors because they are not original experiences, they are merely secondhand repeaters of something which they believe someone else has experienced and which they think is true. So beware of interpreters. The mind which understands itself is a meditative mind. Self-knowledge is the beginning of meditation, and as you proceed deeply into it you will find that the mind becomes astonishingly quiet, unforced, completely still, without motion - which means there is no experiencer demanding experience. When there is only that state of stillness without any movement of the mind, then you will find that in that state something else takes place. But you cannot possibly find out intellectually what that state is; you cannot come to it through the description of another, including myself. All that you can do is to free the mind from its conditioning, from the traditions, the greed, and all the petty things with which it is now burdened. Then you will see that, without your seeking it, the mind is astonishingly quiet; and for such a mind, that which is immeasurable comes into being. You cannot go to the immeasurable, you cannot search it out, you cannot delve into the depths of it. You can delve only into the recesses of your own heart and mind. You cannot invite truth, it must come to you; therefore don't seek it. Understand your own life and then truth will come darkly, without any invitation; and then you will discover that there is immense beauty, a sensitivity to both the ugly and the beautiful. October 31, 1956 MADRAS 1ST PUBLIC TALK 12TH DECEMBER 1956 I think we must all be very gravely concerned with the affairs of the world, because one can see that there is a great deal of tyranny and appalling butchery going on in the name of some ideology, and that even in the so-called democracies there is slowly arising the tendency to mould the mind of man according to a particular pattern of thought. Everywhere, in religious circles as well as in the political world, and regardless of whether man lives in a village or in the most modern of towns, there is this tendency to shape his mind in a particular way; and we think that by controlling the mind of man we are going to achieve a social order that will not have within it the seed of deterioration and destruction. We have done this throughout the centuries, have we not? Through education, through religious dogmas and beliefs, through the worship of some God, through every form of coercion, punishment and reward, we hope that man can be conditioned to act gently, without too much exploitation, with a sense of social relationship, and that society will then continue in an orderly fashion. This is not only the modern idea, for it has existed down the centuries. Since ancient times, religions throughout the world have successfully shaped the mind of man to think in a certain way, and now the politicians are using modern psychological methods to control his thought. They want collective action on a planned basis, so they seek to shape the mind of man according to a certain ideology, whether communist, socialist, or capitalist, hoping that you and I can thereby be made to live amicably in our relationship with each other, which is society. This is what is actually happening all over the world. In the so-called democracies there is more leniency; you can read what you like, and say what you like within limits; but the newspapers to a large extent control your thought and determine what your prejudices shall be. The literature you read influences your thinking, and the politician, with his promises of a future Utopia, shapes your action. So the political or religious authorities are gradually shaping the mind of man. This is a fact, whether you accept it or not. The central government, for example, issues certain legislative orders, and the newspapers never disagree too violently because their action is dictated by vested interests, as it is vested interests that create the politician. Every politician, from the highest to the lowest, is involved in vested interests, not only in terms of money, but also in terms of idea. The politician and his party have certain ideas as to what the country should be. Their ideas are obviously based on their limited knowledge, their inclinations, their prejudices, their personal experiences, and the whole country is subtly made to comply through propaganda; and it is the same with religious organizations throughout the world. The more cunning the organizer, the greater the possibility of controlling man's mind. You can see this process going on in the so-called Christian religion, particularly in Catholicism, as well as in the Communist countries; and it is also going on in this country - only we are inefficient at it, thank God. But the politician here as elsewhere wants to be efficient, and he is going to succeed because, though you may profess all kinds of religious ideals and try mildly to follow them, for most of you the thing of first importance is security in the form of bread and butter; so the politician has got you. This is the actual state of affairs in the world. Your mind is shaped as a Hindu, a Buddhist, or a socialist, you are conditioned to believe or not to believe, and merely to change the form of belief, dropping Hinduism and becoming a Christian, a Communist, or something else, seems to me so utterly futile - not only futile, it is really a form of criminality, because it does not solve the fundamental problem. We merely move from one set of words to another set of words, and this change of words in itself has an extraordinary effect on the mind. I don't know if you have ever observed what slaves we are to words. We shall discuss this presently in the course of these talks. Now, what is a man to do who sees exactly what is taking place in the world, and who really wants to find out if God, truth, is an actuality, or merely a clever invention of the priest? After all, you and I are the result of the collective, are we not? And there must be individual human beings who have completely broken away from the collective, from society, who are free from conditioning, not in layers or in spots, but totally, for it is only such individuals who can find out what truth or God is - not the man of tradition, not the man who does japam, rings the bell, quotes the Gita, and goes to the temple every day. It is the irreligious people who do that. But the man who really wants to find out what this extraordinary movement of living is, must not only understand the process of his own conditioning, but be able to go beyond it; because the mind can find out what is true only when it is free from all conditioning, not when it merely repeats certain words or quotes the sacred books. Such a mind is not free. So it is extraordinarily difficult in this world for the mind to be free. The politician and the so-called religious person talk about freedom, that is one of their catchwords; but they jolly well take care that you are not free, because the moment you are free, you obviously become a danger to society, to organized religion, to all the rotten things that exist about you. It is only the free mind that will find out what is true, it is only the free mind that can be creative; and it is essential, in a culture of this kind, that importance be given, not to the following of a pattern, a doctrine, or a tradition, but to allowing the mind to be creative. But the mind can be creative only when it is free from conditioning, and such freedom is not easily come by; you have to work extraordinarily hard for it. You work hard for your daily living, you spend years at the whole business of being bossed around in order to earn a livelihood, swallowing the insults, the discomforts, the indignity, the sycophancy; but to work so that the mind is free is much more arduous. It requires great insight, great comprehension, an extensive awareness in which the mind knows all its impediments, its blockages, its movements of self-deception, its fantasies, its illusions, its myths. Once the mind is free it can begin to investigate, to search out; but for a mind to seek when it is not free, has no meaning. Do you understand? The mind which would find truth, God, this extraordinary beauty and depth of life, the fullness of love, must first be free. It has no meaning for a mind that is shaped, conditioned, held within the boundaries of tradition, to say, "I am seeking truth, God". Such a mind is like a donkey tethered to a post, it cannot wander further than the length of its rope. So, if we want to find out what is this extraordinary state that lies beyond the vagaries of the mind, really experience it, live with it and know its full meaning, surely there must be freedom; and freedom implies harder work than most of us are willing to undertake. We would rather be led than discover; but one cannot be led to truth. Do please understand this very simple fact. No swami, no system of yoga, no religious organization, no doctrine or belief can lead you to the discovery of truth. Only the free mind can discover. That is obvious, is it not? You cannot discover the truth of anything by merely being told what it is, because then the discovery is not yours. If you are merely told what happiness is, is that happiness? To find out what this life is all about, to know the whole content of it and not just the superficial layers which we call living, to be aware of its joy, its extraordinary depths, its width and beauty, which includes the squalor, the misery, the strife, the degradation -to understand the significance of all that, your mind must obviously be free. If that is clearly understood, then your relationship with me, and my relationship with you, is not based on authority. I cannot lead you to truth, nor can anyone else; you have to discover it every moment of the day as you are living. It is to be found when you are walking in the street or riding in a tramcar, when you are quarrelling with your wife or husband, when you are sitting alone or looking at the stars. When you know what is right meditation, then you will find out what is true; but a mind that is prepared, so-called educated, that is conditioned to believe or not to believe, that calls itself a Hindu, a Christian, a Communist, a Buddhist - such a mind will never discover what is true, though it may search for a thousand years. So the important thing is for the mind to be free; and can the mind ever be free? Do you understand the problem, sirs? Only the mind that is free can discover what is true - discover, not be told what is true. The description is not the fact. You may describe something in the most lovely language, put it in the most spiritual or lyrical words; but the word is not the fact. When you are hungry, the description of food does not feed you. But most of us are satisfied with the description of truth; and the description, the symbol, has taken the place of the factual. To discover whether there is a reality or not, we must be capable of seeing the true as the true, the false as the false, and not wait to be told like a lot of immature children. So, to find out what is true, the mind must first be free, and to be free is extraordinarily hard work, harder than all the practices of yoga. Such practices merely condition your mind, and it is only the free mind that can be creative. A conditioned mind may be inventive, it may think up new ideas, new phrases, new gadgets, it may build a dam, plan a new society, and all the rest of it; but that is not creativity. Creativity is something much more than the mere capacity to acquire a technique. It is because this extraordinary thing called creativity is not in most of us, that we are so shallow, empty, insufficient; and only the mind that is free can be creative. So our problem is, how is the mind to be set free? And is it possible to set the mind free - not in layers or patches, not in little bits here and there, but totally, right through, the unconscious as well as the conscious? Or is the mind ever to be conditioned, ever to be shaped? You have to find out for yourself, and not wait for me to tell you whether the mind can ever be free. Can the mind only think about freedom, as a prisoner does, and so is doomed never to be free but always to be held within the bondage of its conditioning? Do you understand the problem? Can the mind ever be totally free, or is it the very nature of the mind to be conditioned? If it is the fundamental quality of the mind to be limited, then there is no question of ever finding out what is reality; then you can go on repeating that there is God or there is no God, that this is good and something else is bad, all of which is within the pattern of a given culture. But to find out the truth of the matter, you have to inquire for yourself into whether the mind can really be free. I say it can be - which is not for you to accept or reject. It may be true, or it may be my opinion, my fancy, my illusion, and you cannot base your life on somebody else's discovery, or on his illusion, his fancy, or on a mere idea. You have to find out. So, our inquiry throughout all these talks will be concerned, not with how to further condition the mind according to a nobler pattern, a better system or ideology, which is what most people want, but with whether it is possible to free the mind totally. Because you see, sirs, there must be a creative explosion to bring about a new society. Mere reformation within the pattern is no change at all. There is change only when you break through the pattern and find something new. Whether or not what you discover will have an influence on society is irrelevant. To be capable of having this extraordinary, explosive creativity outside the pattern is what is vital. This explosive creativity has its own action which may or may not influence society, but it will create a totally new culture, a new way of thinking which is not within the patterns we are not concerned with the reformation of society; on the contrary, our inquiry is to find out if it is possible to break away from society, that is, from our own conditioning. Now, how do we set about to inquire into the truth of anything? Do you understand, sirs? If we are at all serious, in earnest, not merely given to words and phrases, to a slipshod way of thinking, you and I want to know how to inquire into the question of whether or not the mind can be. free. How are we to set about it? Surely, one of the most essential factors in all inquiry, in all questioning, is not to assume or postulate anything, not to start thinking from a conclusion; because if you start thinking from a conclusion, there is no thinking at all. Thought starting from an established idea is not thinking, it is merely repetition. To be free from conclusions, from assumptions, is extraordinarily difficult; but that is the first essential, it seems to me, in all real inquiry. You cannot inquire if you start with a ready-made foundation, which may be utterly false, and therefore your so-called inquiry is bound to lead to something equally false. So, can you and I as individuals - not as Hindus, not as people living in India or in Europe - start to inquire without any assumption? I do not mean the assumptions implicit in facts like tomorrow, yesterday, time, food, and all the rest of it, but the assumptions, arising from the state of mind which demands psychological security: the assumption that there is God or there is no God, that this is good, that is bad, and so on. Sirs, to find out if there is God or if there is no God, surely I cannot assume anything, can I? If I am really in earnest, if I really want to find out the truth of the matter and not just indulge in cheap talk, if I am eager to discover what reality means, to comprehend the significance, the beauty of it, or its uncertainty, its utter emptiness - if I want to know reality, whatever it may be, then mind must not assume anything, must it? Verbally you may agree that you must not assume anything; but will you actually drop your assumptions? Because if you do not assume anything what will happen? You will be against your family, your society, against every form of tradition; you will have to stand alone, completely dissociated from the values, the ideas which have been imposed upon your mind. And your mind is a bit horrified at that prospect, because ideas, traditions, values give it a sense of security, of permanency; your job is based on all that, and you have a psychological investment in it. So consciously or unconsciously your mind rebels against the idea of standing completely alone to find out. To stand completely alone is to be uncontaminated by society - society being envy, greed, vanity, the desire for power, prestige, the pursuit of all the worldly as well as the so-called unworldly things - , and it is only such a mind that is free to inquire and to find out the truth or the falseness of that which is beyond the mind. So self-knowledge is the beginning of wisdom. Wisdom is not to be found in books; it arises in the mind that is seeking to understand its own workings, and only such a mind can discover the reality that is beyond the measure of itself. At all these talks there will be questions and answers - or rather, I am not going to give answers to the questions, but together we shall go into the problem. Now, why do you put a question? Obviously, you put a question in order to find an answer. And which is more important, the question or the answer? Do please think it out with me. If the answer is more important, then you are really not concerned with the question, because you are looking for an answer. Do you understand, sirs? You will see it in a moment as we go along. There is a problem, whatever it be, and you want an answer to that problem. Now, what is actually taking place. when you want an answer to a problem? Your mind is not giving its full attention to the problem. It is divided, it is distracted by the demand for an answer. A problem exists only when there is divided attention; but when you give your complete attention to a so-called problem, then the problem gives its own answer, you don't have to search for the answer outside the problem. But you cannot give your full attention to the problem if you are seeking an answer. So I am not going to give an answer. Life has no categorical answer to anything; what it tells you is to go into the problem, look at the problem with all the intensity, attention, vitality that you can give to it. Then the problem resolves itself; it is not resolved because you have found an answer. That is the way we are going to look at this question, and you will miss its significance if you are waiting for an answer from me. I am telling you right at the beginning so that you will have no misconception, that I am not giving an answer, but you and I together are going to inquire into the problem. Question: Though political leaders, social reformers, and the various holy men are everlastingly denouncing it, exploitation continues to exist in human affairs, from the topmost government official to the illiterate drudge of the village. You too have preached against it for thirty years. How do you envisage action in which there is no exploitation? Krishnamurti: Sirs, you may be unconscious of this problem of exploitation, or you may not want to think about it, but it is there right in front of your nose, and it exists at every social level. The man who is politically, religiously, or scientifically talented, exploits me because he has capacities which I have not. If I have a little learning and live in a petty village, I exploit the illiterate people there, and the village drudge exploits his wife. Now, what do we mean by exploitation? There is the exploitation of the earth: we use it, we cultivate it, we mine it in order to gather the things of the earth for the benefit of man. That is one kind of exploitation. Then there is the exploitation of the stupid by the clever, of the weak by the strong. The cunning politician, the cunning priest, the cunning leader, the cunning saint - they all have an idea of what society should be, or of morality, righteousness, and they exploit it by their way of life, by their way of talking, and so on. They become examples; and the stupid, the illiterate, the thoughtless follow. So at what level are we talking when we speak of exploitation? Do you understand, sirs? When a man says, "I have found God, I know what it means", and you are eager to get it also, obviously he exploits you. The so-called spiritual leader is supposed to know the Master, and you don't, so you follow him because you want What you think he has, or what he promises. In other words, you are exploited for your own so-called good. So, when one man knows, or says he knows, and another says, "I don't know, please tell me", is there not exploitation in their relationship? Do you understand, sirs? When there is the teacher and the taught, is there not exploitation? If I say, "I know, I have experienced", and you say you don't know, but you want to have that same experience, whatever it is, have you not put yourself in the position of being exploited by me? Surely, whether you accumulate property or knowledge, it is essentially the same thing, only at a different level; and as long as the accumulative process is going on, there must be exploitation. The problem is, then, can we ever be in a state of learning, and therefore not in a state of accumulating? If for me life is a process of learning, then there is no exploitation, there is not the division of the teacher and the taught. Then both of us are important, and we learn from each other. Then there is not the high and the low, the more spiritual and the less spiritual, because then both of us are learning and not accumulating. So, as long as there is accumulation in any form, which is self-centred action, there must be exploitation. That self-centred action may be in the name of society, or in the name of God, it may be in the name of a country or an ideology, but there is still exploitation. The politician at the top thinks he knows what is good for the whole of India. He has power, prestige, capacity, popularity, so he uses you, who don't know, to carry out his ideas; and as you have not the capacity to study, to inquire, and all the rest of it, you just follow. Sirs, this is what we are actually doing. You know, I don't know, so we have established in the world a hierarchical way of thinking based on authority. And the questioner wants to know what I envisage as the action of a man who is not exploiting, that is, who is not accumulating; who may have a few clothes, a little property, but who is without the sense of acquiring, either in terms of property, ideas or belief, and who is free of self-aggrandizement, of all self-centred interest in life. Now, why do you want to know? Why do you ask how I envisage the state of action in which there is no exploitation? It is because you are lazy, is it not? You want to be told what that state is, you want to discuss it, to accept or reject it; you don't want to be in that state. If you were in that state, you would not ask such a question. Sirs, please listen. This is really important, because, if you understand it, it leads to something enormous. Being lazy we say, "Tell me what it means to be free of exploitation, and I will agree or disagree with you". We don't want to be in that state, because it demands hard work, it demands inquiry, the breaking up of our present condition of exploitation, whether it be at the topmost level or at the most common level. We don't want to break up our present condition of exploitation, we want that to go on, and yet we ask what is the state of the man who acts without exploitation. I say find out, get into that state, and then you will see that it has its own action, an action which is much more significant, much more vital, more rigorous than the other. To know what it means not to acquire, to have the feeling of it and not just the mental image conjured up by words, is to feel no sense of self-importance, no sense of accumulation; it is to be really nothing inwardly. Though outwardly you may have a few clothes, a little property, those things are all meaningless. To feel deeply that you are not acquiring means that you are not looking for success, you are not looking for recognition by a rotten society; psychologically you have no vested interest in becoming something. Do you understand? As long as you are becoming something, which is the process of acquiring, there must be exploitation. You may talk a great deal about non-exploitation, but as long as there is this inward urge to become something, to become a saint, a famous politician, a rich man, or what you will -which is the very root of self-centred action - , there must be exploitation. And this movement of becoming something is one of the most difficult things to be free of, because to be free one has to understand the whole problem of time as a means of climbing the ladder of success through the acquisition of property, power, position or knowledge. Any activity or social reform as a means of self-importance or self-forgetfulness, leads to exploitation. If you are really serious about this question, if you earnestly desire to find out whether the mind can ever cease to exploit, then you will discover that it is possible to live in this world without accumulating anything, which means dying every minute to everything that you acquire, to the knowledge, to the virtue, to the things that you have gathered in this world as well as in the psychological realm. But to die totally to everything - to experience, to knowledge, to every process of acquisition - is an arduous task. It means that you must be completely aware, wholly attentive to the movements of the mind, and that is possible only when you watch the process of your mind in operation, that is, in the action of relationship. Observe how you treat your servants, how you play up to the boss, to the big politician, to the governor, to the saint, and to the man who is supposed to know. Only the mind that is really humble is not exploiting, and humility is not a thing to be cultivated. The mind is in a state of non-exploitation when it is silent, alone, when it is not acquiring, not seeking success, not climbing the ladder of recognition, and it is only such a mind that can bring sanity to a world that is full of cruelty and exploitation. December 12, 1956 MADRAS 2ND PUBLIC TALK 16TH DECEMBER 1956 Communication is always difficult, especially when we are dealing with problems which are very complex, because each one is listening, not to the problem itself, but to his reaction to the problem. As we were saying last week, to discover that which is new there must be freedom of the mind; and to find out the full significance of that word `freedom', not the mere dictionary meaning, is very difficult, because each one interprets it according to his fancy, prejudice, according to his own limited understanding, and so does not really probe into the depth of it. To understand the meaning of freedom, we cannot start from any supposition, assumption or conclusion, because then the mind itself is not free. As you are listening to me now, for example, you already have certain ideas, prejudices, conclusions, which means that you are reacting according to the background in which you have been brought up; you are not listening to what is being said, but to these conclusions and interpretations, so actually there is no communication between us. To communicate fully and significantly, you and I must obviously be free from any kind of conclusion, opinion, or dogmatic belief. The mind must be free to listen, and that is one of our greatest difficulties, is it not? If I want to understand something, my mind must put aside all its prejudices, conclusions, dogmas and beliefs -which is an extraordinarily difficult thing to do. Yet that is obviously the first essential in all search: to set the mind free from the conclusions or assumptions it has acquired. There is no search if I start with a conclusion, with any form of judgment or evaluation, because my thinking is then merely a movement from one conclusion to another, which is no thinking at all. Is that not so? Surely we must be clear on this point; because after all, what is it we are trying to do? You and I are trying to find out together the truth about this extraordinary thing called life - not a particular part or segment of life, with its superficial response, but the whole of life; and to find out the significance, the truth of life in its totality, we must surely start without assuming anything, that is, with a mind that is free from conclusions. If you assume that you are a Hindu with certain dogmas, opinions, or a Christian with definite ideas about salvation and how to attain it, obviously that very conditioning prevents real search and discovery. Therefore it is only the free mind that can find out whether there is God, truth, that can know the meaning of love, of death, and of the many problems which confront each one of us. All this is obvious, is it not? The mind that wishes to find out the truth of anything, especially when it is a psychological matter involving the processes of the mind, must start without any assumption; it cannot assume that there is a soul, an Atman, or cling to a particular belief. You must start freely, for you cannot seek if you are bound by a belief. Our concern, then, is not with what truth is, what reality is, or what God is, but with how to free the mind from belief, from influence, from pressure, from conditioning, so that it is capable of discovering what is true. We have many problems in life, not only economic, but the many other problems which arise in man's relationship with man, with ideas, and with nature; and we can never find out the truth of all this if our minds are conditioned as Communists, Socialists, Christians, Hindus, Buddhists, or what you will. There must be a true answer to this enormous and urgent crisis which is confronting us all; but the true answer does not depend upon time, because time as we understand it has in itself undergone a tremendous revolution on account of the atom, on account of rapid technological progress, the pressures of war, of economic conflict, and so on - which means that the whole process of our thinking with regard to time has also to undergo a fundamental change. And to bring about such a change, obviously we must free the mind from its conditioning. Now, can the mind free itself from its conditioning? That is really the issue, because, whether you are a Communist, a Christian, or a Hindu, you have not solved your problems. On the contrary, your problems are multiplying with great rapidity. The issue, therefore, is not how to solve the innumerable problems, but whether the mind can approach these problems with freshness, with freedom; for it is only when the mind is free that it is capable of finding an answer which must obviously be totally different from the so-called answers to which we are accustomed. The answers that we now have to the problems of life have not resolved these problems, and a man who seriously wishes to understand the deeper significance of life must be concerned with freeing himself from the patterns which society and religion have imposed upon him. I think this is obvious, but the difficulty is that most of us do not accept or realize the necessity of it. We are still Hindus bound to our tradition, or Christians burdened with a particular set of dogmas, beliefs, through which we are trying to understand the very complex problem of living. So, can the mind free itself from its pressures, from the influences of society, so that it is able to think straight and not be pushed in any direction? Can it free itself from its traditions, from its conclusions, from the experiences based upon its own conditioning, which it calls knowledge? Surely, that is the real issue. Because what is needed in the world is not more planning, more leaders or spiritual guides, but individuals who are explosively creative - not creative merely in the sense of inventiveness, but who have that strange quality of creation which comes when the mind is free from the traditions, the evaluations, the impositions of a particular society or culture. Only when each one of us is such an individual is it possible to bring about a new world, a new culture, a totally new way of looking at life. Surely, to find out whether the mind can be free is like taking a journey by oneself into the unknown. For obviously, truth, reality, God, or what name you will, is the unknown; it is not the possession of any teacher, it is not to be found in any book, it is not caught in the net of tradition. You must come to it totally alone, you must take the journey without any companion, either Shankara, Buddha, or Christ. Only then will you discover what is true. But most of us walk with companions, which are our memories of all the things we have been told. You have been told about one set of ideas, the Communist about another, and the Christian about still another. You have certain leaders, teachers, gurus, priests, you constantly read certain books, which have imposed fixed ideas on your mind. These fixed ideas are your companions in whose company you are always searching for the answer; but you can find the answer, surely, not according to a particular set of ideas, which are merely your prejudices, your conditioning, but only when you walk totally alone, without any companions whatsoever. Truth is something to be discovered, not to be invited or pursued, and to discover it, the mind must be completely free of its conditioning. I don't know if you have ever thought about this problem of whether the mind, which is a result of time, of association, which is a process of recognition, of accumulated memories, traditions -whether such a mind can free itself from this accumulated residue of memory, from its conditioning as a Hindu, a Christian, a Buddhist, or a Communist, and look at life completely anew. Surely, that is the problem: not to find a new teacher, a new doctrine, but to discover for oneself whether the individual mind can separate itself from society and stand completely alone so as to find out what is true. After all, what is society? Society, surely, is the relationship between man and man. We have created this society, we are part of it, and this society has in turn influenced us, nurtured us, educated us; and without understanding this society, which is our relationship with each other, we shall not be able to understand ourselves. This society is obviously based on acquisitiveness, on greed, envy, ambition, on the search for power, position, prestige; it gives importance to the self, to the `I'. Now, can we be free of greed, envy, ambition, fear, not partially, in little bits, but totally? Can the mind be wholly free of the qualities which it calls greed, envy, violence? If it can, then the moment it is free, one's relationship to society has undergone a fundamental change, because one is no longer dependent psychologically on the evaluations imposed by society. That is, sirs, to be totally free of envy or jealously is to be free from the whole complex problem of the `more', more knowledge, more power, more capacity. The process of imitation, the desire for fame, for success, implies comparison: I am small and you are great, you know and I do not. The mind is caught in this extraordinary process of acquisition, this comparative pursuit of success, in which is involved ambition, with all the frustrations and fears that go with it. So, can your mind be totally free from this whole process? As long as it is not, you will never find out what is truth or God. You may talk about it, but then it is merely a political word to be bandied about. If the mind is not totally free from envy, for example, there is no possibility of finding out what is true; therefore a man who seriously and earnestly wants to find out what is true, must be concerned with the problem of envy. If you begin to probe into it, you will soon discover that no guru can help you to be free of envy. Please see this fact simply and clearly. When you go to a teacher, a guru, to be taught how to free the mind from envy, you are obviously giving further encouragement to envy; you want to achieve, you want to succeed, therefore you are still within the net of envy. A mind that is learning about the whole complex problem of envy is not being taught, it has no guide, no philosophy, no system, no teacher. When you have a teacher, a system, you are being taught, and a man who is being taught is fundamentally greedy, therefore he ceases to learn. Learning is an extraordinary process. The moment you accumulate learning you cease to learn, because that which you have accumulated interprets and therefore impedes any further learning. Is that not so? Knowledge as accumulated learning is an impediment to further learning. Please see this. It is really very simple and essentially real. After all what are you and I doing here? If you put yourself in the position of one who is being taught by me, your mind is envious, because it wants to achieve success in a particular direction which it calls spiritual. You are concerned with achievement, with gain, with arriving somewhere, which is essentially greed, envy. Whereas, if you and I are both learning without accumulating, then our relationship is entirely different. Do you understand, sirs? Then we are really inquiring together, searching into the totality of envy, and not just remaining on the surface. And what then has actually happened to your mind? You are no longer concerned with ideas about truth, God, with tradition and the compulsions of society, for you are an independent human being who is inquiring, learning, searching. I think it is very important to see this, because tyranny is spreading in the world; governments are planning to exercise greater control over the minds of men in order to make them more efficient, and all the rest of it. So in becoming efficient, in becoming powerful, you are losing the capacity for integrated, completely individual thinking, which is really explosive thinking. To learn about envy is the beginning of freedom from envy. To learn about envy is not to accumulate knowledge about it but to observe all the movements of the mind as they arise from moment to moment, which is to be aware of the mind's response when it sees a man who is rich, or a man who is inferior, or a man who is very happy or erudite. The mind that is thus consciously and unconsciously watching its own movements is in a state of learning, and a mind that is learning has no past; therefore this whole idea of karma as a binding element is completely wiped away. But the moment you accumulate knowledge as a means to further success, to further security, or as a means of becoming important, you are caught in time. A man who is really experiencing, learning, is completely alone, but not in the sense of being isolated; for the mind of such a man is pure. Do you understand, sirs? Purity of mind is essential to the state of learning, which means that you cannot learn if there is no humility; and you have no humility if you are accumulating knowledge. If we really see the truth of this, that there can be the state of learning only when there is no accumulation of knowledge, then we shall find that our relationship, not only with each other, but also with the rest of the world, has completely changed. Then a totally new element comes into being, and this whole problem of the superior and the inferior, in the psychological sense, ceases to exist. There are obviously people who have greater capacity than others, and I am not referring to that kind of superficial inequality. But a man who is learning knows neither equality nor inequality; therefore learning is a process of meditation which frees the mind from the past, from accumulated knowledge. If you are learning about your conditioning, you are already free from that conditioning. It is only the mind that can take the journey alone, without any companion, without any teacher, without any tradition, dogma or belief - it is only such a mind that is pure and can therefore discover what is true. There are several questions to be answered; but what is important is one's understanding of the problem, and not the answer. If I understand the problem, I don't ask for an answer. The understanding of the problem itself, resolves the problem. Please, sirs, do see this simple fact for yourselves, that the answer is in the problem, not away from the problem. The answer is not at the end of the book, it is not to be given by a teacher or a leader - that is all sheer nonsense. But if you and I can look at the problem totally and see the inward nature of it, all its inward workings, then that very awareness of the problem resolves the problem; and it is in this manner that we are going to consider these questions. If you are waiting for an answer from me, you will be disappointed, because I am not concerned with the answer. If I gave you an answer you would be in a position to refute it, to accept it, to argue about it, and so on, which is utterly futile. That is a political game fit for the newspapers. But if you want to find out the truth of the problem, you must inquire seriously into it, and therefore your mind must not be concerned with the answer. Only the mind that is not concerned with the answer can give full attention to the problem. If you see that simple fact, let us proceed with the question. Question: There is action as legislation at the governmental level; there is action as reform at the level of Gandhiji and Vinobaji, and there is action according to the various types of religious teachers. It seems to me that all these forms of action are pulling in different directions, and that the individual, being enticed by the promises which each one offers, is caught in conflict within himself. What do you consider to be right action, which will not produce this contradiction? Krishnamurti: Obviously the government is planning for the next five or ten years because they want to produce a result economically, they must feed the millions, and so on. That is one kind of action. Then there are the various religio-social reformers, each advocating a certain system of thought and action, and promising certain results; and the questioner says we are caught in conflict, being pulled in different directions by the promises of these various leaders. Now, is that so? Are you as an individual pulled in different directions by the promises and activities of the politicians and the religio-social reformers, or are you yourself creating these contradictory pressures? The government has to control your ambition, your greed, your envy, your ruthlessness, and therefore it must plan, it must impose enormous taxes, and all the rest of it. So it is you and not the government that have created the contradiction. You have also created the religio-social reformer, with his promises, because you cannot live totally as an individual. In yourself you are torn in ten different directions. You want a planned economy, and yet you want to be free; you are extraordinarily greedy, vicious, brutal, corrupt, and yet you talk about God, love, truth, peace and all the rest of that verbal nonsense. So the contradiction exists within yourself, which is fairly obvious when you consider it. Within yourself there is a pulling in different directions. You want to have a well-ordered society, and you are going to get it. The welfare-state, which inevitably means bureaucracy, is going to control your thinking, your feeling, your action, just as the present society controls you in a different way by encouraging you to be greedy, to be envious. It is a fact, then, that there are conflicting activities going on within each one of us, and within society, which is ourselves in projection. Activity is divided as religious, political, reformatory, educational, scientific, sexual, and so on. We identify ourselves with the particular form of activity which happens for the moment to be convenient, profitable, and the leader of each separate activity thinks he has the answer. Do you understand, sirs? The politician thinks he has the answer, irrespective of the rest of man's problems, and so does the religio-social reformer. Each has certain ideas, prejudices, based on his particular conditioning, each has a plan or a way of life, each says, "This is right, that is wrong; and you as an individual, with your own passions, lust, greed, ambition, choose from among them a leader and follow him. That is your actual state, is it not? That is what is happening, outwardly and inwardly. And the questioner ask me to tell him what is right action. Now, that a false question, surely. If I tell him what is right action and he accepts it, we will merely be creating another leader, another authority, another pernicious pattern of thinking. I really mean this. Please don't laugh it off sirs; it is much too serious. You have enough patterns, gurus, political leaders; why add one more to the list? Whereas, if you really see that in yourself you are contradictory, torn apart, each part having its own activity and leader in that projection of ourselves which is society; if you think about this fact seriously for even five minutes and ask yourself what is the right thing to do, you will know the answer and will not be caught by economic or religio-social promises. So, what is right action? I am not going to tell you, but you and I can go into it together and find out. Surely, the question is not what is right action, but whether there can be an action which is total and therefore true under all circumstances, not just at odd moments. Sirs, do we know a total action at any time, or do we know only a serious of separate actions which we try to put together, hoping thereby to find the total? Are you getting tired sirs? We are trying to find out what is the total action that will respond rightly to all problems, political, religious, social and moral. Surely, it is only total action that is true under all circumstances, not a separate activity with its limited ideas, leaders, and all the rest of it, which inevitably creates another contradiction. Now, how are we going to find out what is total action? Let us go slowly into it. When do you act as a whole, as a total human being if you ever do? Don't answer me please. This is not a discussion. Let me unroll it - but not for you to remember what I say so that you can go home and speculate about it, which is nonsense. We are learning together. Do you know a total action at any time in your life? And what do we mean by a total action? Surely, there is a total action only when your whole being, your mind, your heart, your body, is in it completely, without division or separation. And when does that happen? Please, sirs, go with me slowly. When does such a thing take place? Total action takes place only when there is complete attention, does it not? And what do we mean by complete attention? Please, I am thinking this out as I go along, I am not repeating it from memory. I am watching, learning. Similarly, you must watch your own mind, and not just listen to my verbal explanations. What do we mean by attention? When the mind concentrates on an object, is that attention? When the mind says, "I must look at this one thing and eliminate all other thoughts", is that attention? Or is it a process of exclusion, and therefore not attention? In attention, surely, there is no effort, there is no object to be concentrated upon. The moment you have an object upon which you concentrate, that object becomes more important than attention. The object is then merely a means of absorbing your mind; your mind is absorbed by an idea, as a child is absorbed by a toy, and in that process there is no attention because there is exclusion. Nor is there attention when there is a motive, obviously. It is only when there is no motive, when there is no object, when there is no compulsion in any form, that there is attention. And do you know such attention? Not that you must experience it, or learn about it from me; but do you know for yourself the quality of this attention, the feeling of a mind which is not compelled to concentrate, which has no object to gain and is therefore capable of attention without motive? Do you understand, sirs? What is important is not how to get it, but actually to feel the quality of complete attention as you are listening to me. Now, when does complete attention take place? Surely, only when there is love. When there is love there is complete attention. There is no need of a motive, there is no need of an object, there is no need of compulsion: you just love. It is only when there is love that there is complete attention, and therefore total action in response to political, religious and social problems. But we have no love; nor are the political leaders, the social and religious reformers, concerned with love. If they were, they would not talk of mere reform, nor create new patterns of thought. Love is not sentimentality, it is not emotionalism, it is not devotion. It is a state of being, clear, sane, rational, uncorrupted, out of which comes the total action which alone can give the true reply to all our problems. It is because you have no love that you pretend to change; on the circumference you reform, but the core is empty. You will know how to act totally only when you know what it means to love. Sirs, we have developed our minds, we are so-called intellectuals, which means that we are full of words, explanations, techniques. We are disputatious, clever at arguing, at opposing one opinion with another. We have filled our hearts with the things of the mind, and that is why we are in a state of contradiction. But love is not easily come by. You have to work hard for it. Love is difficult to understand - difficult in the sense that to understand it you have to know where reason is necessary and go with reason as far as possible, and also know its limitations. This means that, to understand what it is to love, there must be self-knowledge - not the knowledge of Shankara, Buddha, or Christ, which you gather from books. Such books are just books, they are not divine revelations. The divine revelation comes into being only through self-knowledge; and you can know yourself, not according to the pattern of some psychologist, but only by observing how your thought is functioning, that is, by watching yourself from moment to moment as you get into the bus, as you talk to your children, to your wife, to your servant. So if you know yourself, you will know what it means to love, and out of that there is total action, which is the only good action. No other action is good, however clever, however profitable, however reformatory. But to love, you need immense humility -which is just to be humble, not to cultivate humility. To be humble is to be sensitive to everything about you, not only to the beautiful, but also to the ugly; it is to be sensitive to the stars, to the stillness of an evening, to the trees, to the children, to the dirty village, to the servant, to the politician, to the tramcar driver. Then you will see that your sensitivity, which is love, has an answer to the many problems of life, because love is the answer to all the problems which the mind creates. Love is to be found directly by each one of us, and not at the feet of a guru, or through any book. Love must be found alone, because it is uncontaminated, pure, and you must come to it completely stripped of greed, of envy, and all the stupidities of society which have made the mind limited, small, petty. Then there is a total action, and that total action is the answer to man's problems, not the separate activities of the reformer, the planner, and the politician. December 16, 1956 MADRAS 3RD PUBLIC TALK 19TH DECEMBER 1956 It seems to me that one of the most difficult things to do is to separate individual thinking and action from the collective thought and activity; yet to free the mind, the whole process of thinking, from the collective is absolutely essential, especially now when the collective is playing such a part in our daily existence. Throughout the world every means is being used to get hold of the mind of the individual. Not only the Communists, but also every type of religious person, is anxious to shape the mind of man; and as governmental efficiency grows, as so-called education becomes universal and technological improvements spread in every direction, thought will be increasingly shaped according to the collective pattern of a given culture. Most of us are the result of the collective. There is no individual thinking. I am not using the word `individual' in opposition to the collective. I think individuality is entirely different from and is not a reaction to the collective; but as we are now constituted, individuality as something wholly apart from the collective does not exist. What we call individuality is merely a reaction, and reaction is not total action. A reaction produces its own further limitation; it only further conditions the mind. So I am not using the word `individuality' in the sense of opposition to the collective; I am referring to a state of mind that is totally disengaged, dissociated from the collective process of thinking. Thinking as we know it now is almost entirely a response of the collective; and it seems to me that in the face of the present crisis, of this immense challenge with its innumerable problems of starvation, misery, war and appalling brutality, the collective response has no value. The collective can only respond according to the old conditioning, the old pattern of thought; and what is important, surely, is that there should be the emergence of individuality which is outside the present social structure, not part of the collective pattern of thinking with its dogmas and beliefs, whether Communistic or of so-called religion. I do not know if you are aware of this extraordinary challenge which confronts each one of us and which demands a new approach, a new way of acting towards it. We can see that the old collective response has not been adequate, and this inadequacy of response inevitably creates further problems - which is what is actually happening in the world at the present time. So our problem is, can the mind, which is a result of the collective, free itself and become individual? - but not in the sense of a reaction, a revolt against the collective, for such a revolt is obviously a process of further conditioning according to a different pattern. Can the mind, by understanding the collective, by investigating, inquiring into the whole process of it, dissociate itself from the collective, and out of the depth of this understanding, not intellectually but actually, bring about immediate action? Can the mind, which is a result of the collective, free itself and act as a total individuality? I am not using the word `individuality' in the sense that we ordinarily accept, which means an individual who is opposed to the collective, who is self-centred who is only concerned with his own activity, his own enjoyment, his own success. This is your problem, is it not? I am not foisting it on you. If you are at all aware of world events, aware of your own social compulsions and pressures, this question must inevitably arise. Can the mind free itself from the collective, which is its own conditioning? To be free of the collective is not just a matter of throwing away your passport or of verbally renouncing a certain state of mind; it means being free of the whole emotional content of such words as `Hindu', `Buddhist', `Christian', `Communist', `Indian', `Russian', `American', and so on. You may strip the mind of the verbal label, but there remains an inward content, the deep feeling of being something in a particular culture or society. You know what I mean. One reacts as a Christian, as a Communist, as a Hindu, because one has been brought up in a particular environment, with a superficial, limited outlook; and this reaction of the collective is what we call our thinking. Since you are listening to me, may I suggest that you listen without any idea of refuting, defending, agreeing or disagreeing. We are trying to uncover the problem together. The problem being immense, to understand it we have to think clearly and with great depth of feeling. So please do not merely listen to my description, but, if you can, through my description watch the operation of your own mind. You will then see how extraordinarily difficult it is to think totally anew, that is, not to think in terms of Hinduism, Buddhism, Christianity, or what you will. And if you revolt against the pattern of Hinduism only to fall into another cage which you call Buddhism, this or that, then the mind is still held within the field of conditioning. So your mind is obviously the result of the collective. It responds, not as an individual in the sense in which I am using that word, but as an expression of the collective, which means that it is bound by tradition, by the whole process of conditioning. Your mind is burdened with certain dogmas, beliefs, rituals, which you call religion, and with that background it tries to respond to something which is unpresendently new and vital. But only the mind that is free of its background can respond totally to the challenge, and it is only such a mind that is capable of creating a new world, a new civilization, a wholly new manner of living. So, can one free the mind from its background, which is the collective, not as a reaction, not in opposition, but through seeing the imperative necessity of a mind that is not merely a repetitive machine? I hope I am making the problem clear. At present we are the result of what we have been told, are we not? That is so obvious. From childhood we have been told to believe or not to believe in certain things, and we repeat it; and if it is not the repetition of the old in which we are caught, then it is a repetition of essentially the same thing in a new form. Whether it lives in the Communist world, the Socialist world, or the Hindu world, that centre which we call the `I', the self, is the repetitive, accumulative process of the collective. The problem is, then, can that centre be exploded so that no new centre is formed and an action takes place which is total and not an activity of the self? After all, the mind is at present a process of self-centred activity, of tradition, is it not? You are a Hindu, a Moslem, a Christian, or a Buddhist, or you may belong to the very latest sect; but the centre of your thinking is an accumulative process, either in terms of tradition, or in reaction to the collective, or it is further shaped by experiences based upon its own conditioning. Sirs, all this sounds very difficult, but it is not. If you watch your own mind, you will see how simple it actually is. What is this centre of thinking, the `I'? Or rather, I won't call it the `I', the ego, the higher self or the lower self. There is only the centre. This centre is a mechanism of thinking based on tradition, and it obviously reacts to any challenge in terms of its own conditioning, which is based on security, fear, greed, envy, and all the rest of it. If you are a politician you think in terms of nationality, you act for various profitable reasons, and this is your response to a world situation that demands, not action in terms of a particular segment of the world, but a total action, a completely human outlook of love, of deep thought. All this is denied when you think as a nationalist, when your mind is bound by tradition. So, can the mind free itself from tradition? And if it can, how is it to set about it? I don't know if you have thought about this problem at all. If you have, you have probably thought about it in the traditional terms of struggling to get rid of the ego by sublimation, by discipline, by control, by various forms of fulfilment, and so on. But perhaps there is another way of looking at it, which is: can the mind know directly the nature of that centre which has subdivided itself into the higher and the lower, the Atman and the personal self? That centre places itself at different levels and calls itself by different names, thinking there is a permanent entity above and beyond the impermanent; but for the impermanent centre to think of a permanent entity, is false, because that which is impermanent obviously cannot create a permanent state. You may conceive of a permanent state and build all your theories, your whole way of thinking around it; but that idea of permanency is also impermanent, it is a mere reaction to the impermanence of life. You may be gone tomorrow. Your thinking, your house, your bank account, your virtues - they are all impermanent. Your relationship with nature, with your family, with ideas, is in a state of flux, of constant movement; everything is transient, and the mind, being aware of that, creates something which it calls permanent. But the very thought which creates the `permanent' is itself impermanent; therefore what it creates is also impermanent. This is not just logical, sequential; it is an indisputable fact, as clear as that microphone. But a mind which has been brought up, which has been trained to escape from life into the so-called permanent, is incapable of thinking afresh, and therefore it is always in battle with anything new. I am talking of that centre which thinks of a state which is permanent, of God or truth, and which also knows the daily activity of pain and pleasure, of ambition, greed, envy, and the desire for power, prestige. All that is the centre, whether you extend it widely or limit it to a little family in Mylapore. And is it possible for that centre to come to an end? Please see that unless it does come to an end you will always know impermanence and sorrow, however much you may pretend to know there is a permanency because some book says so. The books may be mistaken and probably are, including the Gita, the Bible, and the whole lot of them. So you as an individual have to think out this problem as though you were investigating it for the first time, and nobody had ever told you a thing about it. Because what is the actual fact, what is the reality as far as you know it? There is this centre which is greedy, envious, vain, which is seeking power, position, prestige, and which constitutes the whole of human existence. That is all you know. Occasionally there is a flash of joy, a movement of something which is not of your making. but the functioning of that centre is the primary activity of most human beings. Now, you and I are going to take a journey into that centre, not knowing where it is going to lead. If you already know where it is going to lead, you have preconceived it, and therefore it will not be real. A petty mind, however learned and capable of erudite discussion it may be, is incapable of seeking something totally new. All it can do is to project its own ideas, or induce a devotional or ecstatic state. So we are entering upon an uncharted sea, and each one has to be his own captain, pilot and sailor. He has to be everything himself. There is no guide, and that is the beauty of existence. If you have companions and guides, you never take the journey alone, therefore you are not taking the journey at all. The journey is a process of self-discovery, and as you begin to understand it you will see what an immense relationship it has to your present existence. So you can only take that journey when you begin to understand yourself, when you begin to understand the nature of your own mind, going into it step by step. And you cannot go far if you condemn, if you evaluate what you discover. The moment you condemn anything, you have put an end to thinking, have you not? If I say you are a wise man, or a fool, I have obviously stopped thinking. To inquire, to go into the depths of a thought or an emotion, to unroll it, there must be no sense of judgment, evaluation. One has to move with it; and this inquiry into the self, into the centre, is meditation. The practice of going into a corner and looking at a picture, which you call meditation, is phony, it is not meditation at all. That is self-hypnosis. Real meditation is this inquiry into the extraordinary process of thinking to find out how far thinking goes, and whether there is an ending to thought. If I were to tell you that thought can be ended, you would say, "How am I to arrive at that ending of thought?", which is an immature question. What matters is to find out the nature of the centre, to go into it and uncover the whole process of thinking for yourself, not according to somebody else; and you can have no companion on this journey. Neither wife, nor husband, nor child, nor guru, nor any book can help you. This journey must be undertaken entirely alone, and there is no religious organization of any kind that can help you. Though such organizations call themselves spiritual, they are exploiters. I am not on my favourite subject. Don't brush it off so easily. Religious organizations merely condition man further, therefore they are essentially exploiters, though they operate in the name of God, truth, and all the rest of it. So, to undertake this journey you must free yourself at the very beginning from all religious organizations, from all tradition. And I assure you, it is very hard work, because it demands, not mere revolt, but a great deal of attention, thought and inquiry. In the process of inquiry you will find that every form of difficulty comes into being - fear, insecurity, uncertainty - , and because we are not capable of facing it, we run away and talk about God and truth. But for a man who is really in earnest, the very undertaking of this journey brings solitude - which is not isolation, because he will know a far greater relationship than the relationship which exists now, which is no relationship at all. Because it has understood the centre and is not transposing that centre to a different level of consciousness, the mind in that state of aloneness is capable of total individual action - individual in the sense that it is not related to a particular society or culture. Such a mind becomes silent, completely still, and in that very stillness there is an extraordinary movement, a movement which is not put together by the mind. That movement without any centre, without any direction or objective, is creation; that movement is the real, beyond the measure of time and man. Now, sirs, as I explained the other day, there are only questions in life, and no answers; and it is really important to understand this. A mind that seeks an answer is not concerned with the question. It is only when your mind is wholly concerned with the problem -which means it is not distracted by the desire for an answer, or by reacting to the problem in its own way - that you give complete attention to it; and when you give your complete attention to the problem, you will find that the problem undergoes a fundamental change. It is no longer a problem, it has quite another quality. But this demands a mind that can pursue the problem to its end; and you cannot pursue a problem to its end if you are seeking an answer, or if the mind is in any way translating the problem in terms of its own desire. Question: Is not a certain amount of disciplinary training necessary to understand what you are teaching? Krishnamurti: Is it? What do we mean by discipline? You know the ordinary meaning of that word: to control, to subjugate, to force thought by the exercise of will to conform to a nobler pattern. Discipline implies resistance, a shaping of the mind, holding thought to a certain line, and so on. All that and more is implied in discipline. In discipline there is the division of the one who disciplines and that which is disciplined, so conflict is everlastingly going on, and we accept this conflict as normal, as a sane way of life. To me it is utter nonsense, and I mean it. The questioner asks, "Is not a certain amount of disciplinary training necessary to understand what you are teaching?" If you love to do something, is it necessary to discipline yourself to do it? If you are really interested in what I am saying, do you need discipline? Must you train your mind to pay complete attention, to listen with deep feeling? That very listening is the act of understanding - but you are not interested. That is the real problem: you are not interested. Not that you should be. But fundamentally you are superficial; you want an easy way of existence, you want to get on. It is too much of a bother to think very deeply; and besides, you might have to act deeply, you might find yourself in total revolt against this rotten society. So you play with it, you keep one foot here and one foot there, tottering and asking, "Should I discipline myself in order to understand? Whereas, if you really inquired into what I am teaching, you would find it very simple; and you can do it yourself, you need no assistance from anybody, including myself. All that you have to do is to understand the operation of your own mind - and a marvellous thing it is, the mind; the most beautiful thing on earth. But we are not interested in that. We are interested in what the mind can get for us in the way of security, passion, power, position, knowledge, which are the various centres of self-interest. And I say, look at the operation of your own mind, go into it, understand it, all of which you can do by yourself; watch your everyday relationship with people, the way you talk, the way you gesticulate, your pursuit of power, how you behave in front of the important man and in front of the servant. If you observe this whole process of yourself in the mirror of relationship, that is the one necessary action. You don't have to do anything about it, but merely observe it. If you observe, go into the whole process of yourself without condemnation, you will find that the mind becomes extraordinarily sharp, clear and fearless; therefore the mind is capable of understanding such human problems as death, meditation, dreams, and the many other things that confront it. So you don't need any special training. What you need is to pay attention, not to what I say, but to your own mind; you must see for yourself how it is caught in words, in explanations without any basis, without any reality. Perhaps it is the reality of someone else, but if you make that the basis of your life, then it is not reality; it is merely a supposition, a speculation an imagination, and therefore it is without validity, it has no reality behind it. To find reality you have to work as hard as you work for your daily living, and much harder, because all this is much more subtle, requiring greater attention; for every movement of thought indicates a state of the mind, of the conscious as well as the unconscious. As you cannot observe the operation of your mind all the time, you pick it up, observe it, and let it go. If you watch yourself in this manner you will find that attention has quite a different significance, and that you can free the mind from the collective. As long as the mind is merely a record of the collective, it is of no more value than a machine. The new computers are extraordinarily capable along certain lines, but human beings are something more than that. They have the possibility of that extraordinary creativity which is not just the writing of poems or books, but the creativity of a mind that has no centre. Question: Most of us seem to be after so many things - sex, position, power, and so on - which promise a sense of happiness and fulfilment, but which bring with them all kinds of frustration and suffering. Is this inevitable? Krishnamurti: What is it that we are all after? Not what we should be after, which is just idealistic nonsense, but what is it we are all pursuing in fact? And what is it that is making us go after certain things? As the questioner says, we are all after something: sex, position, money, power, prestige, or we want to be near the biggest man, and so on. We all want something, if not in this world, then in the other world, whatever the other world is; and in the pursuit of what we want we meet with frustration, misery. Now, what is it we are after, and what is driving us to go after it? Do you understand, sirs? What are we seeking, and what is it that is making us seek? I am not answering you, so don't wait for an answer from me. I am exploring it. Together we are going to find out. We all know we are after something: happiness, beauty, comfort, the flowering of goodness, the continuity of satisfaction, and so on and on. We are after something, call it x. And what is making us go after x? Is it discontent - not divine discontent, but plain, everyday discontent? That is, we get something, we are dissatisfied with it, and we want something mote. As a boy I want amusement; when I am a little more mature I want sex, then a house and family; and in a few more years I want position, prestige. So discontent drives me till I find something which will give me contentment: love, knowledge, a person to idolize, a country or an ideology to serve, a Master to whom I can give everything, all in return for my contentment. This may sound cynical, but it is not. I am merely stating an obvious fact, and if you dismiss it as cynicism, that is your affair. So discontent is driving most of us. We want a little more money, a little more knowledge, more happiness. Perhaps we have momentarily felt the goodness, the beauty, the extra ordinary depth and width of life, or someone has described it, and we are after that; but the basis of our search is still this discontent. We are being urged by discontent to find a means of overcoming it. Surely that is a fact, it is the mind's actual response. My wife has died, my son is gone, or my husband has run away with some woman, and I am unhappy; so I go to a guru, or turn to some book, hoping to find something which will assuage my agony, my suffering; and when I have found it, I dare not question its reality, because it has given me comfort. So, whatever it is, I hold on to it till the next push comes, till again there is the drive of discontent. If a particular guru satisfies me, there I am permanently stuck; if he does not, I move on to the next. It is the same with ideas, with houses, with everything. From the clerk to the highest governmental official, in so-called spiritual as well as in worldly affairs, we are all driven by this burning discontent, which is an actuality in our lives. So there is this movement of discontent; and the moment you find contentment, which is the opposite of discontent, you go to sleep. This is so, is it not? Have you not noticed people who have found what they call God, or who are encased in a belief? They may be afire with devotion, but they are held in a prison of ideas, their own or those of another, which is their own projection. That is the way of life as we know it. Driven by discontent, we move from one satisfaction to another; life for most of us is a continuous burning, wanting, pursuing, and that process seems inevitable. But is it inevitable? If you begin to question and to understand the whole process of discontent, out of that understanding there may come a movement which has no fulfilment. Do you understand, sirs? What is it we are seeking? We are seeking an object that will give us a feeling of fulfilment, are we not? I am forever fulfilling myself in my wife, in my child, in my property, in ideas, in a country, in following somebody, and so on and on; and in the wake of fulfilment there is always frustration, obviously. There can never be self-fulfilment, because the self is partial, fragmentary, it is never total. It is always broken up. Self-fulfilment must inevitably be incomplete and is therefore frustrating. If my mind sees the truth of that, then my question is not whether there is an ultimate fulfilment, but whether there is a movement totally different from that which we know. To put it differently, is there a search without a motive? Do you understand, sirs? We are now seeking because we are discontented. We know that very well. We are thoroughly familiar with that process. I am unhappy and I want happiness. The motive is very simple and very clear. But I see that as long as there is a motive in search there must be frustration. That is very clear too, not verbally but actually. So the mind says, "Is there a movement which is not the turning of this wheel of content and discontent?" In other words, is there a search, an inquiry which has no causation at all? Because the moment your search has a cause, a motive, you are obviously no longer seeking. Do you understand, sirs? No? I seek because I have a motive. The motive is, I want to be happy. I already know what happiness is, because I know what unhappiness is. So my search for happiness is not search at all. It is merely an effort to find some means of being what I call happy, which is the opposite of what I am. We know that process very well. Now, please put yourself the next question, which is: is there a movement, a search, without any causation, without any pressure, without any motive? Don't say there is or there is not, because it would be mere speculation. The fact is that you don't know. And to find out if there is a movement which has no causation, you cannot translate it in terms of what you have read in books. But what you can do is to say, "I know the way of life which moves from discontentment through fulfilment to discontentment, and I see there is no end to that process". Then you can ask yourself the question, "Is there a movement of life which is not a reaction to the ordinary movement and which has no centre as causation, as motive?" But do not ask me, do not say, "Please tell us about it". It is for you to find out. I say there is such a movement, a movement in which there is no causation, no stimulation, and which is not a mere remembrance of things past. If you can find it you will see that that movement is completely dissociated from the movement of contentment and discontentment, from this drive towards fulfilment with its shadow of frustration. But to find that other movement you must go into this whole question of discontentment, you must think it out, feel it out, grapple with it, and then come to the other, which is to discover it for yourself. To discover it you must be free from contentment and discontent; you must be free, and not ask how to be free. You will be free only when you understand this whole process of contentment, in which there is frustration, fear, and all the rest of it; and then you will come naturally and easily upon that movement which has no time or causation. It is not metaphysical, mystical, or anything of that kind, but it is an actual fact which the mind can directly experience when it is free of this movement of contentment and discontentment. So you cannot possibly find out if there is a movement of life in which there is no motive till you have understood the whole problem of causation and the movement arising from that causation. It requires hard work, sirs, and no book, no temple, no god, no guru can reveal it to you. You can just as well throw them all overboard and begin to inquire for yourself. Wisdom lies in the understanding of discontentment, and then you will find that there is an experiencing which is not based upon previous experience. That experiencing has no motive, no ending, therefore it is timelessly creative. December 19, 1956 MADRAS 4TH PUBLIC TALK 23RD DECEMBER 1956 I think it is obvious that our problems are increasing throughout the world. There is every kind of conflict, and the various opinions and answers which are offered for the resolution of our problems only seem to lead to further confusion. If you observe you will see in this country an extraordinarily rapid deterioration taking place, which is not imaginary but an actual fact; and seeing this whole process of deterioration, this enormous decay of man's endeavour through the centuries, there are those who say you must return to the past, you must go back to the temple, to the sacred books, you must follow the traditional routine, the religious sanctions, and thereby re-establish yourself in righteousness. But is righteousness in the past? Does righteousness lie in any book? Does righteousness come about through following any leader, any authority? And is not the present decay, this moral corruption and disintegration, the result of a `righteousness' that is based on the authority of another, on the authority of a book, on the authority of several leaders whom you have followed through centuries? Regardless of who it is, whether it is a political leader, a comforting saint, or a religious reformer, is not the very following of another unrighteous? Is righteousness something that can be stored up, that can be gathered and laid by for actions that demand a right response? Or is righteousness something entirely different? It is not that we have lost righteousness, for probably we have never had it, and that is why there is the present decline. I don't know if you have considered this matter at all seriously, or have merely skimmed along on the surface of life, gratified with the little things - a little work, a little food, a little thought, a little family - , not being too disturbed and letting the decline go on as it will. I think there must be some who have given serious thought to the matter - but not in terms of reformation, because you can see, if you look around, that reformation has not brought a new release of man's creativity. On the contrary, religious reformation, like political revolution, has merely brought a different group which insists on a different pattern. Seeing all this, we must have wondered how to bring about that righteousness which is not merely the action of the learned, the action of a mind that has accumulated knowledge, morality, and functions within the groove of a certain virtue. I do not call such a mind righteous. Righteousness is not merely the remembrance of things that are gone, it does not lie in the past of ten thousand years ago, or of yesterday; it is the capacity to meet each challenge with a freshness of mind, with love, with gentleness, with insight into the totality of a happening, whatever it be. The mind that is capable of responding totally to a demand is the only righteous mind, not the mind that calculates, that is shaped by an ideology or is pursuing an ideal, all of which is based on self-interest, on vested interest in morality, in tradition, in values that are profitable. Righteousness is something entirely different from all that, which we shall see as we go along this evening. A mind that is trained to a pattern of thinking, that demands the `how', the method, that wants to know the path that leads to righteousness, will never be righteous, because it is only concerned with success, with getting somewhere. Instead of pursuing money, it invests in so-called righteousness. The ends are fundamentally the same because the desire in each case is fundamentally the same. So, is it possible to bring about, not a piecemeal change, but a total change, so that your mind, your heart, your whole being is alive and sensitive to everything about you - to the beauty of a cloud, to the breeze among the leaves, to the villager, to the woman who is tortured by bearing many children? What matters, surely, is to be aware of all that and to respond to it fully, not in terms of some social morality, which is not moral at all; it is merely a matter of convenience, of self-interest. Morality is the capacity to respond with the totality of one's being - and I mean that, it is not a rhetorical statement. Words in themselves have very little significance. What is important is to go beyond the words and to have feeling, because it is feeling that brings the totality of action. Do you understand, sirs? To have feeling is not the process of intellection which breeds all kinds of cunning reasons as to why you should or should not have feeling. Please, since you have taken the trouble to come here, may I suggest that in listening to what I am saying you listen to the end, and not just take little bits here and there which happen to suit you; listen to the totality of it, and you will see that the whole thing hangs together. If you take a little part of it, you will have only the ashes which will create more misery, more sorrow, more confusion. Also, listening itself is quite an art. Most of us never really listen, therefore we hear only partially. We hear the words that are spoken, but our minds are elsewhere; or our minds responding to the meaning of the words, and this immediate response prevents us from hearing that which lies beyond the words. So listening is an art; but if you can listen totally to what is being said, then in that very listening you will find there is a liberation, because such listening is unpremeditated, uncalculated; it is an action of truth because your whole mind is there, your total attention is being given. If you listen without interpreting, without remembering a quotation from some old book, or comparing all this with what you have read, then you will find that your own mind has undergone a really radical change. Feeling without the paraphernalia of thought is really an extraordinary thing. I don't know if you have ever tried to feel and to ride on that feeling without controlling it, shaping it, without calling it bad or good, without giving a verbal significance to it. You will find that it is very difficult, astonishingly arduous. It is not a thing that comes easily, because we have cultivated the mind. To us the intellect is enormously important; we like to argue, to be able to counter one opinion with another which is erudite, very learned, or to quote some ancient book. We have trained our minds to a high degree of efficiency in self-interest, and so we have lost or have never had that feeling. The immediate objection to this is, "If we have a feeling, don't we want to express it?" Do we? Or does the mind, clothing it in words, create the sensation which demands an expression? The mind looks beyond the feeling and wants to express it, fulfil it, or to curtail, suppress, hold it back. So the feeling is the real flame; and if you really free the mind from words, if you do not let the verbal significance, all the paraphernalia of our religious and moral instincts shape it, you will find that the feeling does not necessarily demand what you call fulfilment. It is the mind that demands fulfilment, the mind that has an idea about the feeling. Do you understand? Let us say you pick up a leaf and look at it. The feeling it evokes is one thing, and your opinion about it, "How beautiful", "How green", "How withered", is another. But the word becomes more important, and the feeling goes away. Observe it, make an experiment with yourself and you will soon find out. Such a feeling does not demand a fulfilment. On the contrary, it has its own movement, unrelated to the verbal movement of thought which demands action. So it is feeling that really brings a fundamental change in our thinking. And a fundamental change in our thinking is necessary, because it is not the outward pressure of economic environment that brings the change. Compulsion in any form does have an effect, but it never brings about a radical change; it only brings a modified perpetuation of things as they have been. What is needed is a radical change, not the superficial quoting of new words, the shouting of new political slogans, or the following of new masters, new leaders. We have tried all that, and it has not produced a different world. So, if you are really concerned - as any intelligent and thoughtful person must be when he sees so much poverty, so much degradation and decay - with how to bring about, not a reform, but a fundamental revolution, then I think you will quickly realize that such a revolution is possible only when the mind is truly religious. But religion, the feeling of religion, is not a matter of going to a temple, attending a ceremony, repeating a lot of stupid words, ringing a bell, or putting flowers at the feet of an idol made by the hand or by the mind. Nor is it religion when you can repeat the Gita from beginning to end, or quote any other scripture. Religion is the feeling of sacredness; you understand? It is not your feeling for your guru, for the Masters, which is merely envy, profit, your concern with what you will get in return; and it is not the pursuit of a dogma or a belief, which is merely another form of security, self-interest. Religion is the feeling of that immensity which may be called sacred, and which has nothing to do with the Upanishads, the Gita, the Bible, with symbols, churches, Buddhas, Krishnas, or with me. It has nothing whatever to do with all that. It is because you have given your hearts and minds to things of that kind that you have not this feeling of sacredness which cunning reason cannot pervert, which no mind, however subtle, can destroy. Such feeling is like love, it has its own action. But the mind that thinks it must learn to love creates an action which is a perversion, and such action only brings more complexity, more misery, more confusion. So religion is not to be found in any temple, in any book; it has nothing to do with putting ashes on your forehead, wearing the sacred thread, or belonging to any particular organization. Religion is something entirely different. There is definitely a state, not a fixed state but a movement which is beyond the measure of the mind, and the experiencing of that state is religion. Don't translate it as Samadhi, or some other mystical nonsense, and go off on that; but the actual experiencing of that state, which is creation, brings a new world into being, because then your own mind is washed clean of all the rubbish of the centuries. Then your mind is innocent, fresh, sensitive, alive to every problem, and is therefore capable of meeting it. But such a state of mind is not easily come by. You have to understand yourself, the operation of your own thinking. Religious revolution is the beginning of a new religion - which cannot be organized, which cannot have a priesthood, or a president and a secretary, with property. That is not religion. The religion of which I am speaking is this feeling of sacredness, which is not sentimentality. It is a thing that comes through hard work, through piercing all the illusions, the shadows which the mind has created. That is why it is very important not to have an authority of any kind, either the Masters, or a guru, or the sacred books, or ideals and opinions, whether your own or those of another; because only then are you an individual, free to find out. As long as you depend on another to instruct you, you are lost, because you are caught in that instruction. When the mind is completely denuded of the past, which is knowledge, you will find that a totally different kind of feeling arises, and the people who have that feeling don't belong to any religious organization, they have no country, they don't go near the politicians because they are not seeking power, position, nor are they trying to reform the world. A mind that is concerned with reformation is not a religious mind, it is not kind, compassionate. Such a mind may talk about compassion, goodness, but in the very act of reformation there is destruction, misery, because every reform needs further reform, for all reforms are inadequate. A total action is necessary, but the total action is not brought about by putting the little parts together. It comes when you discover for yourself as an individual human being, that is, when you respond, not as the collective, but as a real individual who has freed himself from society with its greed, envy, possessiveness, and all the rest of it. Only such an individual will know that extraordinary experience of something which is not measurable by the mind. It is not a static experience. It is not an experience to be remembered. What is remembered is not true; it has already joined the dead of yesterday. And without that experience of reality, do what you will, you can never have a sane, ordered, balanced, happy world. But you cannot seek that experience, it must come to you; and it will come to you only when you are not concerned about yourself. In asking a question, what is important is not the answer but the question; because if I know how to look at the question, how to feel my way through it, I shall find, not the answer, but that the problem has ceased to exist. After all, a problem exists in my daily life only when I have not the capacity to meet it adequately. A good mechanic knows what is wrong with a motor immediately, it is not a problem to him; but to another man, who is not a good mechanic, it is a problem. Learning how to deal with a psychological problem is, however, entirely different, because the problem varies from moment to moment. It is never the same. You cannot learn a technique of how to deal with the problem, because the problem is constantly changing. I don't know if you have noticed it. To say, "I will find an answer and apply it to the problem", or, "Having established an end, I will make the problem fit the end", is such a nonsensical way of dealing with a problem. To deal with a problem, one has to have the capacity to look at it. That is all. And you cannot look at a problem if you are interested in the answer. You can look at a problem only if you give your total attention to it; and if you give your total attention to it, the problem is not. These are not just words. You try it. It is really quite extraordinary how the mind can meet each problem afresh every time. The meeting of every challenge afresh is the renewal of life; but a mind that functions mechanically in the groove of tradition, of memory, cannot adequately meet the challenge, and such a mind only creates further problems. When the mind asks a question looking for an answer, it generally finds an answer, and the answer is invariably gratifying, comforting; so the mind is caught in its own pettiness. Bearing all this in mind, let us consider these questions. Question: Is friendship prevented by spreading justice, which is to organize society on an equitable basis? Can the organization of a society with equal opportunities for all lead to that sense of compassion which will ultimately put an end to governmental intermeddling in our personal lives? Krishnamurti: The first part of the question is, "Is friendship prevented by spreading justice, which is to organize society on an equitable basis?" Obviously, friendship is destroyed if you depend for justice on the organization of an equitable society. Do you understand? If I rely on the so-called order that is enforced by an outside agency, by government, by law, I shall lose the sensitivity of being really friendly. That is fairly obvious, is it not? And that is exactly what is taking place. You carry on as a Brahmin, or whatever it is you are, secluding yourself from others, and the government comes and establishes justice. We are not discussing justice; for the moment that is not the issue. When man depends on law to hold his greed within limits, invariably his heart withers. Sirs, that is what is happening throughout the world. Society is becoming more and more complex; and as we have to live together and have not got that sense of friendship, of love, compassion, which will find its own action, we are being forced to behave by governments, through legislation - which is called social justice. It is like a man and his wife being forced by law to live together. That you will understand easily, because it is part of your daily existence. But the other is not within your experience, it does not pinch your toe every day. You are not conscious of it, because your heart is withered. So where there is no friendliness, the law has to come in. Do you understand, sirs? What is important is the sense of compassion, the feeling of it, not what it will do. You see, again you are thinking of action; and it is because you are thinking of action, and have not the feeling, that your action has to be controlled, shaped, bullied into line. But if you have that feeling of ordinary kindliness, ordinary gentleness, generosity, then you will find that, while legislation continues to exist for those who must be compelled, it does not exist for you, because you are acting from a different level, a different depth. The second part of the question is, "Will the organization of a society with equal opportunities for all, lead to compassion?" Do you understand? Will organization, whether it be governmental organization from the centre down through the state and the city, or the organization of churches, with their authority, their sanctions, their priests, their sacred books and excommunications, their shaping of the mind around a belief in the name of love, and all the rest of it - will that organization lead to love, or will it destroy love, compassion? Please do follow this, sirs. It is your life, not mine. You are the person to answer. When you have to join some society to be brotherly, or belong to some religion which maintains that you must love, and you depend on a priest for the interpretation of that extraordinary beauty - then will you love, will you know what compassion is? Will you be sensitive to the bird, to the tree, to the flower, to the child? Do think about it, sirs. Give your hearts to this question, do not just listen to the words and give your assent or dissent. The fading away of the power of the State is not possible, it is just an idea and therefore valueless, as long as our hearts are empty. On the contrary, governments are going to become more and more powerful, because they are run by men like you, men who want power, position, prestige. Like you, they are politicians, they are moved by expediency, they are after immediate results. The more there is the mechanical action of repression, inwardly and outwardly, the more the State will flourish, and organizations like those to which you now belong will continue to shape your mind; so your heart withers and there is no friendliness, no compassion between you and me. When there is compassion, the feeling of it, it is not just for the poor villager, or for a hungry animal; the warmth of it exists wherever you are, whether in a slum or in a palace, and that feeling cannot be organized, nor can you come to it through any organization. No Masters can give it to you; if they say they can, it is a lie. Sirs, it is because you have followed for centuries the authority of the book, of the guru, of the State, the authority of the boss immediately above you, that you have lost all sensitivity to the beauty of life. To look with feeling at the morning sky, at a star over a cloud, to see the villager and give him something out of your heart, not out of your pocket - you have not lost all that, for you have never had it, and that is why you have organizations, and because of these organizations, you will continue not to have it. It is only when you totally break away from every organization and stand completely alone, that you will find out. Dependency is self-interest, and as long as you are dependent, there is no compassion. And I assure you, when compassion exists you don't have to organize society. Question: Tradition, ideals and a certain sense of social morality used to keep mediocre people like me occupied in a righteous manner, but such things no longer have any meaning to most of us. How are we to break through our mediocrity? Krishnamurti: Sir, what is a mediocre mind? Don't define it -you can go and look up that word in the dictionary - but watch your own mind and find out why it is just ordinary, mediocre. The questioner says that tradition, ideals and a certain sense of social morality used to keep mediocre people like him occupied in a righteous manner. It was not a righteous manner, it was a traditional manner. To do what society tells you is not righteous, it is merely acting like a gramophone, which has nothing to do with righteousness. Righteousness implies breaking away from greed, envy, ambition, power, and standing by yourself. Only then can you talk about righteousness. To act mechanically because you have been educated for centuries to think in a certain manner and to conform to a particular pattern, is not righteousness. So, what is mediocrity? Don't you know? Don't you know what a mediocre mind is? Surely, it is very simple. A mind which is occupied is a mediocre mind. Whatever it is occupied with, whether it be with God, with drink, with sex, with power, it is a mediocre mind. Do you understand, sirs? A mind that practises virtue from morning till night is an occupied mind and is therefore mediocre because it is concerned with itself. You may say, "I am not concerned with myself, I am concerned about India; but that is merely transferring the identification from oneself to something else and being occupied with that. Any occupation - with a book, with a thought, with any one of a dozen things - indicates mediocrity, because a mind that is occupied is not a free mind. It is only the free mind that can give attention to something and let it go, which is entirely different from being occupied with it. An occupied mind can never be free. Examine your own mind and you will see how occupied it is with your interests, with your family, with your job; from morning till night there is never a moment when it is empty - which is not a blankness, nor a state of vegetation, of day-dreaming. That is not emptiness. When the mind is occupied it gets tired and vaguely thinks of something else, which is merely another form of occupation. I am not talking of that. The mind that is not occupied is extraordinarily alert, but not about something. It is in a state of complete attention; and the moment such a state exists, there is creation. Such a mind is no longer mediocre; whether it is living in a village or in the capital, it is no longer dominated by the dictates of society. But that requires an astonishingly arduous inquiry into oneself, not the complacency of little successes; it is the outcome of really hard work to find out why the mind is occupied. Don't you see, sirs, you are occupied with other people's affairs because you are other people, you are not yourself. You don't know yourself. You are occupied with things that you have been told are important. But if you have a real feeling about something, you will see it is no longer occupation. A man who has deep feeling is not a mediocre person; but when he wants to put that feeling into words and makes a lot of fuss about it, when through those words he seeks fame, notoriety, money, or whatever it is, then he has become mediocre. So the inquiry into mediocrity is an inquiry into your own mind, and you will find that a mind that is occupied ever remains mediocre. Question: You were born in a village of very poor environment, and you say that you have never studied the scriptures. What good karma has brought you to this liberation? Krishnamurti: This is really a very interesting question, if you care to go into it, not because it is personal, but apart from the person altogether. What makes one see more, what makes one love, what makes one sensitive to the earth and the things of the earth? What makes one understand without words, without gesture? What makes one have a vision or an experience of something beyond the measure of the mind? That is the problem -not why one was born in a little village and not somewhere else, which is without significance. Do think it out with me. Why is it that one mind gets conditioned, shaped, bullied into some kind of action, and another does not? Is it a matter of karma, cause-effect? That is, you have done something good in the past, and the effect is that you are now a kind man, or a rich man, or a talented man -something or other. But is that so? Is cause-effect so clear-cut and defined as all that? Or does the cause, in producing the effect, become again the cause? Therefore there is no isolated cause-effect, but an unbroken series of causes and effects, which become further causes. Do you understand? Karma to most people is a process whereby you benefit from having done something good in the past, and pay for whatever evil you have done. But it is not so simple as that, is it? I know that is what the thoughtless say, those who are always climbing the ladder of success, never thinking of the bootblack, the villager. They are always thinking of karma in terms of achievement: because they are doing good now, in their next life they will have a bigger house, a better position, more money, they will be nearer Nirvana, and all the rest of it. Though it may be relevant, that surely is not the essential problem. So what is the essential problem? If we can put the question rightly, we shall know by investigating it the true content of that question. Why is it that one individual has such an extraordinary sensitivity about him, and another has not? If you put that question through envy, you will never find the answer. Don't laugh it off, sirs. Think it out. Most of us ask through envy because we want the same thing, therefore our question is not the right one. So, how does it happen that one mind is conditioned and another is not? You can easily say it is karma, or ascribe the whole thing to fancy, imagination; but that is not the answer, surely. Why does one particular mind that is put under pressure, that goes through all the stresses and strains of life, see so much and come out differently? What makes it happen? Is it like some rare thing in botany, or in the field of sport? Or is it something which is possible to everybody? If it is a rare thine, it has no value. You can just as well put it in a museum, label and forget it - which is what we generally do, only we make the person into a saint or some silly thing like that. But if you really want to know, then you will have to find out for yourself whether there is a reality which can be understood immediately and not through the process of time. There is a reality - please listen, sirs - there is a reality which, coming upon the mind, transforms it. You don't have to do a thing. It operates, it functions, it has a being of its own; but the mind must feel it, must know it and not speculate, not have all kinds of ideas about it. A mind that is seeking it will never find it; but there is that state, unquestionably. In saying this I am not speculating, nor am I stating it as an experience of yesterday. It is so. There is that state; and if you have it, you will find everything is possible, because that is creation, that is love, that is compassion. But you cannot come to it through any means, through any book, through any guru or organization. Do please realize that you cannot come to it through any means. No meditation will lead you to it. When you realize that no sanctions, no pattern of behaviour, no guru, no book, no organization, no authority can lead you to that state, you have already got it. Then you will find that the mind is merely an instrument of that creation. And it is that creation operating through the mind that will bring about a totally different world -not the planned world of the politician or the religio-social reformer - , because that creation is its own reality, its own eternity. December 23, 1956 MADRAS 5TH PUBLIC TALK 26TH DECEMBER 1956 I think it must be a matter of grave concern for most people to see how little they fundamentally change. What is needed is not a modified continuity of things as they are, because the immediate problems of war, the pressures and tremendous challenges that confront us every day, demand that we change in a totally different manner than before. The moralists, the politicians and reformers all urge some kind of change, and change is obviously essential; yet we don't seem to change. By change I do not mean throwing out one particular ideology or pattern of thought and taking up another, or leaving one religious group and joining another. To be caught in the movement of change, if you know what I mean, is not to have a residual point from which change takes place. That is, if I as a Hindu change to Buddhism or Christianity, I am merely changing from one residual thought to another, from one tradition to another, and that is obviously no change at all. So it seems to me very important to be caught in the movement of change, which I shall go into presently. Most of us are aware that technologically the world is advancing with extraordinary rapidity; but the human problems which technological progress brings cannot be adequately met by a mind that is merely functioning in a routine, or according to a pattern. You can see that technology will presently feed man -perhaps not tomorrow, but sooner or later it is going to happen. Through every form of force and compulsion, through legislation, propaganda, ideology, and so on, man is going to be clothed, fed and sheltered; but even though that is ultimately done, inwardly there will be very little change. You may all be well fed, clothed and sheltered, but the mind will remain about the same; it will be more capable of dealing with technological matters, with the machine, but inwardly there will be no compassion, no sense of goodness or the flowering of it. So it seems to me that the problem is not merely how to meet the challenge technologically, but to find out how the individual is to change - not just you and I, but how the majority of people are to change and be compassionate, or to change so that compassion is. Can compassion, that sense of goodness, that feeling of the sacredness of life about which we were talking last time we met -can that feeling be brought into being through compulsion? Surely, when there is compulsion in any form, when there is propaganda or moralizing, there is no compassion; nor is there compassion when change is brought about merely through seeing the necessity of meeting the technological challenge in such a way that human beings will remain human beings and not become machines. So there must be a change without any causation. A change that is brought about through causation is not compassion, it is merely a thing of the market place. So that is one problem. Another problem is: if I change, how will it affect society? Or am I not concerned with that at all? Because the vast majority of people are not interested in what we are talking about - nor are you if you listen out of curiosity or some kind of impulse, and pass by. The machines are progressing so rapidly that most human beings are merely pushed along and are not capable of meeting life with the enrichment of love, with compassion, with deep thought. And if I change, how will it affect society, which is my relationship with you? Society is not some extraordinary mythical entity, it is our relationship with each other; and if two or three of us change, how will it affect the rest of the world? Or is there a way of affecting the total mind of man? That is, is there a process by which the individual who is changed can touch the unconscious of man? Do you understand the problem, sirs? It is not my problem, I am not foisting it on you. It is your problem, so you have to deal with it. Man is going to be fed, clothed and sheltered by technology and that is going to influence his thinking, because he will be safe, he will have everything he needs; and if he is not astonishingly alert, inwardly rich, he will become, not a mature human being, but a repeating machine, and his change will be under pressure, under compulsion of the whole technological process, which includes the use of propaganda to convince a man of certain ideas and condition his mind to think in a certain direction - which is already being done. Seeing all this, you must obviously think, "How am I to change? And if I do change, if I do become an integrated human being - which I must, otherwise I am merely part of the propaganda machine with its various forms of coercion and so on - , will it bring about a change in the collective? Or is that an impossibility?" Now, must the collective be transformed gradually? Do you understand? When we talk about gradualness, obviously it implies compulsion, slow conviction through propaganda, which is educating the individual to think in a certain direction, to be good, kind, gentle, but under pressure. Therefore the mind is like a machine that is being driven by steam, and such a mind is not good, it is not compassionate, it has no appreciation of something sacred. Its action is all the result of being told what to do. I don't know if you have thought about all this, but if you have, it must be a tremendous problem to you. More and more people are becoming mere repeaters of tradition, whether Communist, Hindu, or whatever tradition it is, and there is no human being who is thinking totally anew of his relationship to society. And if I am concerned with this issue, not verbally or intellectually - not saying that life is one, that we are all brothers, that we must go and preach brotherhood, because all that is mere word-play - , but if I am concerned with compassion, with love, with the real feeling of something sacred, then how is that feeling to be transmitted? Please follow this. If I transmit it through the microphone, through the machinery of propaganda, and thereby convince another, his heart will still be empty. The flame of ideology will operate and he will merely repeat, as you are all repeating, that we must be kind, good, free - all the nonsense that the politicians, the Socialists, and the rest of them talk. So, seeing that any form of compulsion, however subtle, does not bring this beauty, this, flowering of goodness, of compassion, what is the individual to do? If the man of compassion is a freak, then obviously he has no value. You may just as well shut him up in a museum. But the action of a freak is not the action of a man who has really thought it all out deeply, who actually feels compassion, the sense of loving, and does not merely enunciate a lot of intellectual ideas; and has such a man no effect on society? If he has not, then the problem will go on as it is. There will be a few freaks, and they will be valueless except as a pattern for the collective, who will repeat what they have said and moralize everlastingly about it. So what is the relationship between the man who has this sense of compassion, and the man whose mind is entrenched in the collective, in the traditional? How are we to find the relationship between these two, not theoretically but actually? Do you understand, sirs? It is like a man who is hungry - he does not talk about the theory of economics, nor is he satisfied with books that describe the good qualities of food. He must eat. So, what is the relationship between the man who is enlightened, not in some mysterious mystical way, but who is not greedy, not envious, who knows what it is to love, to be kind, to be gentle - what is the relationship between such a man and you who are caught in the collective? Can he influence you? Influence is not the word, surely, because if he influences you, then you are under his propagandistic compulsion, and therefore you have not the real flame; you have only the imitation of it. So what is one to do? Is there an action which will affect the collective non-thinker, so that he thinks totally anew? Will education do that? That is, can the student be helped to understand the whole variety of influences that exist about him so that he does not conform to any influence, thereby bringing into being a new generation with a totally different approach to life? Because the old generation is on the way out; they are obviously not going to change. Most of you will sit here listening for the next twenty years and change only when it suits you. Instead of a dhoti you will put on trousers, or you will drink, or eat meat, and think you have changed marvellously. But I am not talking about such trivialities at all. Is this change to be brought about by beginning with the young, with the child? But that means there must be a new kind of teacher. Don't just agree with me, sirs. See the whole significance of it. There must be a new kind of mind operating in the teacher so that he helps the child to grow, not in tradition, not as a Communist, a Socialist, or whatever it be, but in freedom. The student must be helped to be free at the very beginning and not ultimately, free to understand the pressures of his home, of his parents, the pressures of propaganda through newspapers, books, ideas, through the whole paraphernalia of compulsion; and he himself must be encouraged to see the importance of not influencing others. And where are such teachers? You nod your heads in agreement and say that it should be done, but where are the teachers? Which means that you are the teachers. The teachers are at home, not in the school, because nobody else is interested in all this. Governments are certainly not interested. On the contrary, they want you to remain within the pattern, because the moment you step out you become a danger to the present society. Therefore they push you back. So the problem actually devolves upon you and me, not upon the supposed teacher. Now, can you change immediately, without any compulsion? Sirs, do please listen to this. If you don't change now you will never change. There is no change within the field of time. Change is outside the field of time; because any change within that field is merely a modification of the pattern, or a revolt against a particular pattern in order to establish a new one. So I think the problem is not how the enlightened individual will affect society. I am using that word `enlightened' in the simplest, most ordinary sense, to describe one who thinks clearly and sees the absurdity of all the nonsense that is going on, who has compassion, who loves, but not because it is profitable or good for the State. To ask what effect such a man has on the collective, or of what use he is to society, may be a wrong question altogether. I think it is, because if we put the question in that way, we are still thinking in terms of the collective; so let us put the question differently. Has the man of enlightenment, the man who is inwardly free of religions, of beliefs, of dogmas, who belongs to no organization that brings in the past - has such a man any reality in this world which is bound to the wheel of tradition? Do you understand, sirs? How would you answer that question? To put it again differently, there is sorrow in the world, sorrow arising from various causes. There is not only physical pain, but this complex psychological process of engendering and sustaining sorrow, which is fairly obvious. Now, is there freedom from sorrow? I say there is - but not because someone else has said it, which is merely the traditional way of thinking. I say there is an ending to sorrow. And what relation has the man for whom sorrow has ended, to the man of sorrow? Has he any relation at all? We may be trying to establish an impossible relationship between the man who is free of sorrow and the man who is caught in sorrow, and creating thereby a whole series of complex issues. Must not the man of sorrow step out of his world, and not look to the man who is free from sorrow? Which means that every human being must cease to depend psychologically; and is that possible? Dependence in any form creates sorrow, does it not? In depending on fulfilment there is frustration. Whether a man seeks fulfilment as a governor, as a poet, as a writer, as a speaker, or tries to fulfil himself in God, it is all essentially the same, because in the shadow of fulfilment there is pain, frustration. And how are you and I to meet this problem? Do you understand, sirs? I may be free, but has that any value to you? If it has no value, what right have I to exist? And if it has value, then how will you meet such a man -not how he will meet you, but how will you meet him? He may want to meet you and go with you, not just one mile, but a hundred miles; but how will you meet him? And is it possible to change so fundamentally, so radically and deeply, that your whole thinking-feeling process is exploded, made innocent, fresh, new? Sirs, there is no answer to this question. I am only pointing it out. It is for you to expose it, to bite into it, to be tortured by it. It is for you to work hard on it, because if you don't, your life is over, finished, gone; and your children, the coming generation, will also be finished. You always say that the coming generation will create the new world, which is nonsense, because you are conditioning that generation right off through your books and newspapers, through your leaders, politicians and organized religions -everything is forcing the child in a particular direction, while you eternally verbalize about nothing. So this is your problem, and I don't think you are taking it seriously. It is not a thing as vital to you as making money, or going to the office and being caught in the routine of that astonishing boredom which you call your life. Whether you are a lawyer, a judge, a governor or the highest politician, your life for the most part is a dreadful routine that is boring and destructive in the extreme, and you are caught in it; and your children are also going to be caught in it unless you change fundamentally. This is not rhetorical, sirs, it is something that you have to think out, work out, sit together and solve. Because the world does demand human beings who are thinking anew, not in the same old groove, and who do not revolt against the old pattern only to create a new one. I think you will find the answer in right relationship when you know what love is. Strangely, love has its own action, probably not at the recognizable level; but the man who is really compassionate has an action, a something which other men have not. It is those who are serious, who listen, who think, who work at this thing - it is such people who will bring about a different action in the world, not eventually but now. And I think the problem is, how is a human being to change so fundamentally in his way of thinking that his mind is totally unconditioned? If you give your thought to it as much as you do to your office, to your puja, and all the rest of the nonsense, you will find out. Sirs, I am going to answer this one question - or rather, I am not going to answer it, but together we will take the journey into the problem. Because the problem holds the answer, the answer is not outside of the problem. If I am open to the problem I can see the beauty of it, all its intricacies, its extraordinary nuances and implications, and then the problem dissolves; but if I look at the problem with the intention of finding an answer, obviously I am not open to the problem. Question: My son and others who have been abroad seem to have had the moral fibre knocked out of them. How does this happen, and what can we do to develop their character? Krishnamurti: Why do we think only of those people who have been abroad? Has not the moral fibre of most people who are listening been knocked out of them? Seriously, sirs, do not laugh. It is a very complex problem. Let us explore it together. We want to develop character, at least that is what we say. The newspapers, the government, the moralists, the religious people - are they doing it? You think so? How does character develop? How does goodness flower? Does it flower within the frame of social compulsion, which is called moral? Or does goodness flower, does character come into being only when there is freedom? Freedom does not mean freedom to do what you like. But that is what happens when they go abroad. All the usual pressures are taken off - the pressure of the family, of tradition, of the country, the fear of the father and the mother - and they let loose. But did they have character before they left, or were they merely under the thumb of their parents, of tradition or society? And as long as a human being is under the thumb of the family, of society, of tradition, of propaganda, and all the rest of it, has he character? Or is he merely a machine functioning repetitiously according to a moral code and therefore inwardly dead, empty? Do you understand, sirs? That is what is happening in India, though the vast majority of people have not gone abroad. Moral fibre is rapidly disintegrating. You ought to know that better than I do. So your problem is, is it not?, how to develop character and yet remain within the social pattern so as not to disrupt society. Because, though it may talk about character or morality, society does not want character. It wants people who will conform, who will toe the line of tradition. So we see that character is not developed in a pattern. Character exists only where there is freedom - and freedom is not freedom to do what you like. But society does not allow freedom. I don't have to tell you. Watch yourself in dealing with your own children. You don't want them to have character, you want them to conform to tradition, to a pattern. To have character there must be freedom, for only in freedom is the flowering of goodness possible; and that is character, that is morality, not e the so-called morality that merely conforms to a pattern. Is it possible, then, to develop character and yet remain within society? Surely, society does not want character, it is not concerned with the flowering of goodness; society is concerned with the word `goodness', but not with the flowering of it, which can take place only in freedom. So the two are incompatible, and the man who would develop character must free himself from society. After all, society is based on greed, envy, ambition; and cannot human beings free themselves from these things and then help society to break its own pattern? Sirs, if you look at India you will see what is happening. Everything is breaking down because essentially there is no character, essentially you have not flowered in goodness. You have merely followed the pattern of a certain culture, trying to be moral within that framework, and when the pressure comes your moral fibre breaks because it has no substance, no inward reality; and then all the elders tell you to go back to the old ways, to the temple, to the Upanishads, to this and that, which means conformity. But that which conforms can never flower in goodness, There must be freedom, and freedom comes only when you understand the whole problem of envy, greed, ambition, and the desire for power. It is freedom from those things that allows the extraordinary thing called character to flower. Such a man has compassion, he knows what it is to love - not the man who merely repeats a lot of words about morality. So the flowering of goodness does not lie within society, because society in itself is always corrupt. Only the man who understands the whole structure and process of society, and is freeing himself from it, has character, and he alone can flower in goodness. December 26, 1956 COLOMBO 1ST PUBLIC TALK 13TH JANUARY 1957 It seems to me that the many problems which we have, not only in this country but throughout the world, are increasing and becoming more and more complex. When we try to solve a particular problem, other problems spring into being, so there arises a wide network of problems endlessly multiplying itself, and there seems to be no way out of it. I think anyone who is at all thoughtful is aware of this dilemma. Now, if you and I as individual human beings are to understand this complex process of existence, I think it is essential that we approach it in all humility. It is only when the mind is actually in a state of humility that it can learn. We cannot approach our problems with old ideas, with stereotyped answers, with a particular ideology of pattern of thought. We have to approach these problems anew - and there lies our difficulty. As we are now, most of us are incapable of learning from the problem, because we approach the problem with a mind that has already learnt. I think there is a vast difference between the mind that is open to the problem, and a mind that approaches the problem with an ideology. A mind that approaches the problem with an ideology, a preconceived answer, is incapable of learning from the problem. We have to learn from the problem, because the problem is a challenge, and a challenge is always new. But unfortunately most of us approach any problem with conclusions, with a mind already made up, with a mind that is conditioned as a Hindu, a Buddhist, a Christian, a Communist, a Socialist, or what you will - which means that we are incapable of learning. So it is essential, is it not?, that each one of us individually should be open to the problem. I think this is the central issue and that we should see it very clearly. During the talks that are going to be held here, if you are at all serious in your intent, you have to understand the relationship between yourself and the speaker. It is not a question of someone teaching you; on the contrary, you and I as individuals are going to learn, and there is no division between the teacher and the taught. Such a division is unethical, unspiritual, irreligious. Please understand this very clearly. I am not dogmatic or assertive. As long as we do not understand the relationship between you and the speaker, we will remain in a false position. To me there is only learning, not the person who knows and the person who does not know. The moment anyone says he knows, he does not know. Truth is not to be known. What is known is a thing of the past, it is already dead. Truth is living, not static, therefore you cannot know truth. Truth is in constant movement, it has no abode, and a mind that is tethered to a belief, to knowledge, to a particular conditioning, is incapable of understanding what is truth. As you and I are going to explore this whole problem, inquire into it together, we are in a position of learning, are we not? Therefore there is no division of the teacher and the taught. To me the follower is essentially stupid, as is the teacher who admits the following. When you are following there is no enlightenment, you are not a light unto yourself; you have no love in your heart, but merely the description of the teacher who tells you what love is. So is it not very important, if you are at all serious, that we should establish from the very beginning the right relationship between us? If you are here merely out of curiosity, for amusement, that has its own worth. But the occasion and, the immense crisis demand that you be serious - serious, not in the sense of following your prejudices, interests or bent in a particular direction, serious to understand. When we are to do, then, is to take a journey of understanding together - together which means that I am not leading and you are not following. To me, the leader, the teacher, the guru, is essentially unmoral, unethical, unspiritual. We are human beings, free to inquire, to find out if there is God, if there is truth, if there is something beyond the measure of the mind. But you cannot find what is beyond the measure of the mind if you are merely following a pattern of dogma, or belief. The problems of life are so immense, so catastrophic, so urgent and important, that the mind must be capable of understanding, of really going into the problem profoundly, and not merely scratching the surface. To do that, the mind has to uncondition itself; for after all, our minds are conditioned, are they not? You are conditioned as a Buddhist, you are conditioned by the climate you live in, by the food you eat, by the books you read, by newspapers and propaganda. Your mind is obviously the result of influences and pressures, and you are nothing but that. You may think that you are something more; but if you investigate, go into it very seriously, you will see that your mind is actually the result of the collective. When you say you are a Sinhalese, that statement is the result of the collective. You are not an individual, you are the result of the propaganda which says you are a Sinhalese with a particular religion, a particular culture. As a Buddhist you are conditioned by the beliefs, by the dogmas, by the superstitions, by the fears of that particular religion, while a Christian is conditioned from childhood to believe in a Saviour, to follow certain rituals, and so on. In the Russian world the Communist is conditioned not to believe, and he will tell you that all this belief in God is sheer nonsense. He is conditioned, just as you are conditioned. It is an unpalatable thing to swallow, but it is so. Now, this conditioning influences our thinking and limits our perception; and it is only when the mind frees itself from its conditioning that it is able to understand the many problems which confront us. So, is the mind capable of freeing itself from its conditioning? Do you understand, sirs? What is important is not to find a better conditioning, a nobler spiritual pattern, but for the mind to free itself from all patterns. And is the mind capable of freeing itself? Surely, it is only a free mind that can respond adequately to the challenge of our ever-mounting problems and misery. Outwardly you may have what you need; sufficient clothing, food and shelter may be provided by the State. Outwardly, through terror, wars may be stopped, but inwardly there will still be contradiction, strife; there will still be misery, chaos, disturbance, uncertainty within ourselves. We are individually the sum, total of all that, and we have to understand it; for it is only the mind that has self-knowledge, that understands it the whole working process of itself it is only such a mind that is capable of being free from its conditioning and responding to the challenge anew. What conditions our minds? It really very simple if you observe it. Our ambitions, our greed, our envy our pursuit of personal expansion, of power, position, prestige, our desire to be secure both in the world of relationship and in the world of ideas - all that is what conditions the mind. Religion as organized belief and dogma, is not religion at all. Religion is something entirely different from the mere acceptance of belief or the practice of a ritual. Religion, surely, is the process of freeing the mind from envy, from greed, from ambition, so that the self-centred activity of the `I' no longer exists; and only such a mind is capable of pursuing in utter silence the movement of reality. That is why it is important to have a religious revolution -which is the only revolution, because mere economic revolution will inevitably fail. The religious revolution of which I speak has nothing whatever to do with any established religion. On the contrary, to have this religious revolution one must be free from all organized dogma and belief, for only then is the mind capable of experiencing that which is real. But unfortunately, most of us do not give time to this; we are too busy with our daily lives, with earning a livelihood, with the things of the world. Being too busy, we multiply mischief in the world, and then we say "What can I as an individual do?" If you observe you will see it is only the enlightened individual that is capable of doing anything, not the mass, not the collective; and the enlightened individual is one who has an inward knowledge of himself, of the activities of his own mind, the operations of his own thought. To be truly aware, not only of the workings of the superficial mind but also of the unconscious, is the beginning of self-knowledge; and without self-knowledge there is self-deception, illusion, therefore you can never find out what is truth. Self-knowledge is the beginning of wisdom. This self-knowledge is not to be gathered from books, but you can find it for yourself through observing your daily relationship with your wife or husband, with your children, with your boss, with the conductor of the bus. It is through awareness of yourself in your relationship with another that you discover the workings of your own mind, and this understanding of yourself is the beginning of the freedom from conditioning. If you go into it deeply you will find that the mind becomes very quiet, really still. This stillness is not the stillness of a mind that is disciplined, held, controlled, but the stillness which comes when, through the understanding of relationship, the mind has ceased to be a centre of self-interest. Such a mind is capable of following that which is beyond the measure of the mind. I have some questions here, but before we consider them I think we should understand the intention of the questions and the replies. Why do you ask a question? Obviously, to find an answer -which means that you are interested, not in the problem, but in the answer. Now, you can understand a problem only when you give your total attention to it, and you cannot give your total attention to it as long as the mind is seeking an answer. Is it not so? I think we ought to see that very clearly. For example, there is enmity, hate, and what we are concerned with is how to get rid of it. So we go about seeking ways and means of getting rid of hate; we try to get rid of it through disciplines, practices, and so on. But surely that is not the problem. What makes the mind hate? Why is there animosity? Why is there unfriendliness? That is the problem, not how to be free. To understand the whole problem of enmity, jealousy, envy to go to the very end of it and understand it totally, I must give it my full attention. Then there is no answer: the problem itself is resolved. I don't know if you have ever tried to give your total attention to something. Have you ever tried to look at an extraordinarily difficult thing to do, because your mind immediately says that the flower is beautiful, or that it is of such and such a species, and you either like or dislike it. In the very process of verbalizing, judging, evaluating, your mind has gone away from the object of attention. But if you can give complete attention to something, you will find that that complete attention is the good; you do not have to pursue the good. Such attention is the process of meditation-not the battle to exclude the various thoughts that keep creeping into the mind. So in considering these questions we are not trying to answer them, because to the immense problems of life there is no answer. It is a very superficial and silly mind that seeks an answer. But a mind that gives its whole attention to the problem will find that in the process of understanding the problem, the problem has ceased. Question: Like many of my valued friends, I am an ardently religious Sinhalese Buddhist, and I feel intensely for our religion and our culture. But unfortunately, in furthering our religion and our culture, I see that we are unconsciously getting divided into opposing parties. What would you advise me to do? Krishnamurti: It is not a matter of advice, but together we are going to find out what the problem involves. The questioner says that he is an ardently religious Sinhalese Buddhist, But is it possible to be a Sinhalese or a Buddhist and still be religious? (Laughter). Don't laugh, sirs, this is not a political meeting. Can you be religious as long as you are a Christian or an Englishman? Can you be religious and belong to India? Are they not contradictory? Is nationalism compatible with love? Please, it is your problem. I am not a Christian, a Buddhist, or a Hindu, nor do I belong to any other religious or nationalistic group. It is your problem, because you say you are an ardently religious Sinhalese Buddhist, and you want to maintain a particular culture. You don't see immediately the absurdity of such a statement. What do you mean by culture? What do you mean when you say you are a Buddhist, a Sinhalese? Since you happen to live on this island, you are made conscious - through propaganda, through the machinations of politicians, through so-called education and other forms of influence - of belonging to a particular group, and you think in terms of that group. But what does it mean to be religious? Surely, to be religious is not to belong to any organized religion. To be religious is to be kind, to be generous, to love, not to harm, not to kill. That is all. To love, to be kind, you don't have to belong to any religion; not to have enmity, not to be ambitious, not to be self-centred, you don't have to profess any creed or belief. Religion as organized belief does not contain truth. No temple, no church, no mosque has truth in it; they are all man-built, and what man has put together, man can undo. So why call yourself a Sinhalese or a Buddhist? We are human beings, sirs, not labels. We all suffer, we are inwardly tortured by misery, loneliness, sorrow. These are human problems, not the problems of a Buddhist, a Christian, or a Hindu, and we have to solve them together as human beings. Do please understand this, it is so simple. Religions, organized beliefs, divide, and destroy people. See what is happening in the world. There are Catholics and Protestants, Northern Buddhists and Southern Buddhists, Hindus, Moslems, and so on. As the earth is broken up into little patches of nationalistic ownership, so religion has been divided by man; it has become a form of vested interest. So why call yourself a Sinhalese or a Buddhist? If we strip ourselves of all these idiotic labels and remain as simple human beings, then perhaps we shall create a different world, a world in which people are not divided as Sinhalese and Hindus, Christians and Buddhists, Englishmen and Russians. That division is a major cause of your miseries. Please, sirs, understand this. You have divided man for economic reasons basically, and also to be secure in a particular pattern of belief; so you are destroying yourselves. You will have no peace in the world until you cease to be labelled as Christians, Buddhists, Hindus. The important thing in all this is to have friendliness, to have compassion, to have love; and we do not have friendliness, compassion, love, so justice comes into being - justice being legislation. Governments make you conform to a pattern; and when justice is a matter of legislation forcing the people to conform, there is no love. A mind-heart that is full of love needs no such justice; a mind-heart that is free from all labels, whether Christian, Buddhist, Communist, or what you will, is capable of bringing about a different world. Now, sirs, you have listened to the problem. What will you do about it? You will probably agree intellectually, that is, verbally, and say "It sounds reasonable and true", but when you go outside you will again fall into the trap, into the old habit of following the social pattern. Only the man who renounces the social pattern completely - only such a man is a religious person. But unfortunately, though you hear what is being said, you will forget about it and go back to your old way of thinking. What a strange thing! These meetings are not propagandistic in any sense. I am not trying to propagate an idea. On the contrary, there are no ideas, but only understanding. To understand, we must investigate together, there must be friendliness, a feeling of companionship, a sense of affection. But we cannot have affection, friendliness, if you are a Buddhist and I a Hindu. So those of you who have listened to this, because it is the truth, have an immense responsibility. If you are at all serious you cannot possibly go back to the old; you may call yourself a Buddhist, a Sinhalese, in applying for a passport, but that is a mere formality. If you are emotionally, inwardly free from all labels, then the authority of the church, of the past, drops away, so that the mind is capable of seeing and understanding what is; and such a mind, being in a state of real compassion, will solve the many problems that confront each one of us. Question: In Ceylon we have various religions, but some priests incite their followers to hate those belonging to other religions, which creates serious trouble among the people in general. What is the true function of a priest? Krishnamurti: Sir, why do we have these various religions at all? Why is there the Christian religion, the Buddhist religion, the Moslem religion, and so on? Have you thought about it at all? Each religion maintains that it is a path, if not the only path to truth, to God, to the Highest. Now, is there a path to truth? Or is it that truth is a living thing, and a path can lead only to that which is fixed, static? So, having conceived of truth, of God, as a fixed thing, we have divided our- selves into various religious groups, and each group, maintains that its particular system or its particular saviour is the path to the Highest. Why do they do so? First of all, because of property and vested interests. Religions that have property, vested interests, are no longer religions, they are like any other commercial affair. Please, sirs, listen diligently. I am not attacking, I am only showing what is actually happening. The Christian says that there is only one saviour, and that everyone who does not hold that particular belief is eternally damned. What absurd nonsense, and what cruelty is involved in it! Each religion maintains its own tradition, its guru, its priesthood, and says that it is the path to truth. And why should there be these different religions at all, with their conflicting dogmas and beliefs? If you observe you will see that they exist because you are conditioned from childhood to believe in something, and you are caught for the rest of your life in that belief; and having been conditioned, you are exploited through fear, through vanity, through flattery, through every available means. This is what is actually happening throughout the world. Religions are not interested in reality, they are not interested that men should be free from ambition, from greed, from envy, from hate, from killing each other. No religion has stopped war. That is why religions have failed. There is no path to reality. Reality is a pathless land, and you must venture out and discover it for yourself. It is because you are frightened inwardly that you depend on something, on the priest, or on a belief, and so you get caught in the net of an organized religion. Wherever organized religions may lead you, they will certainly not lead you to truth. You must go beyond organized religions to find truth. The second part of the question is, "What is the true function of a priest?" What do you mean by a priest? The man in a yellow robe, the sannyasi, or the man who wears a clerical collar, and so on? The priest is supposed to be a mediator between you and reality, between you and God, between you and the immeasurable, is he not? But can there be a mediator between you and the real? How can there be? Haven't you to be a light unto yourself? Then what need is there for a priest? To love, to be compassionate, to be kind, to be generous, do you need a priest? And if the priest is an interpreter, a mediator between you and reality, does he know reality? Or is he merely conditioned in a particular ideology which he calls reality? Can there be a mediator between you and that which is beyond all measure? If you need a mediator, an interpreter, then you are not seeking truth; what you want is comfort, gratification, and you might just as well take a pill. Please, sirs, I am talking very seriously. Religions with their priests are unnecessary to a man who is seeking truth. A man who is seeking to understand what is compassion, what is love, does not want a priest, he does not want an organized belief; to him, love is more important than belief. Surely, sirs, to love, to be compassionate, is the only door to reality; there is no other door. But how can you be compassionate, kind, generous, friendly, as long as you are ambitious? You want to be somebody in the world, do you not? You want to be famous, you want to succeed, and your whole social structure is based on acquisitiveness, competition. When your only concern is to get on in the world, to have more property, to achieve success, how can you love, how can there be compassion? So most of us are not concerned with compassion, with love; we are only concerned with getting ahead, making a success of it, with having labels such as `Buddhist', `Hindu', `Christian' - and then we quarrel over the labels. Each one is trying to convert the other, and in converting others you have more votes, more property, more power. You can see this game going on throughout the world, and this game is called religion. Surely, religion is something extraordinary; it has nothing to do with any organization, with any belief or dogma. Religion is not to be found in any temple, in any church or mosque. It is to be found only when the mind understands itself and is free from fear, free from the demand to be inwardly secure. Then there is a possibility of being compassionate, kindly, and such a mind-heart will know that which is immeasurable; for then the immeasurable is. It is not a thing to be speculated about, it has to be experienced directly. There is something beyond the measure of the mind, but it is not to be found in the Upanishads, in the Gita, in the Bible, nor in the Buddhist literature. It comes through the understanding of yourself in your relationship with people, with nature, and with ides. When you understand yourself completely you will discover without any aid from another, without any organized religion, without any priest, that beyond the mind there is something which is timeless. It is a state that can be experienced only when the mind is completely still. January 13, 1957 COLOMBO 2ND PUBLIC TALK 16TH JANUARY 1957 We are confronted with a world that is rapidly changing, whose challenges have to be met; and as it is impossible for a mind that is bound by tradition by the past, to meet these challenges rightly, fully and adequately, I think it is very important that we understand the fundamental issues. We know from what we read in the papers that extraordinary material progress is being made in America, and we also know what is taking place in Europe; and we can see very clearly that some fundamental change is necessary, that we cannot go on in the way that we have been accustomed to. We cannot possibly continue to think in terms of Asia, Europe, or America. We have to think anew, because the challenge is totally new. After all, every challenge is new and has to be met with a fresh mind, a mind that is not conditioned, not influenced by a background or possessed by tradition. Such a total transformation is necessary in each one of us, for we can see that our minds are tethered to the past. Because of our education, because of our religious training, because of our social influences and moral pressures, our minds are at present incapable of meeting the challenge anew. So our problem is, is it not, how is the mind to undergo a radical transformation? I do not know if you have ever thought about the problem in this manner. We generally think about changing gradually, That is, by the pursuit of an ideal we say that we shall eventually bring about a transformation within ourselves, and thereby change society. Gradualism is a very convenient and satisfying theory; but actually you will see, if you observe, that you do not change through a gradual process. Ideals are not the means of transforming the mind. A man who pursues an ideal, however noble, is really caught in the process of postponement, in the ways of indolence. We shall understand this as we go along. Before I proceed with what I want to talk about this evening, may I say that I think it is very important to know how to listen. Most of us do not really listen, because we always listen with an objection, with interpretations; we translate what is being said in terms of our own ideas, or compare it with what we already know; so actually we never listen. If you have ever attempted really to listen to somebody you will know how extraordinarily difficult it is, because you have innumerable prejudices which come like a screen between yourself and the person to whom you are trying to listen. But if one can listen without judging, without comparing, without translating, then I think such listening has an extraordinary effect. Such listening brings about a total revolution in the mind, because it demands complete attention; and complete attention is the complete good. So I would like to suggest that you try to listen in that way to the talk this evening, and then you will see how very difficult it is. I may say totally new, and because you happen to be a Buddhist, a Christian, or a Hindu, steeped in a particular ideology, you will naturally have objections, reactions; you will compare what is being said with what you already know, which means that you are actually not listening at all. Your mind is so astonishingly active in comparing, judging, evaluating, that it is really distracted. What matters is to listen with that peculiar attention which is not an effort, which is not absorption - and you do listen in that manner when you really want to find out, when there is urgency. Such an urgency exists at the present period in the world crisis. It cannot wait for you to transform yourself gradually. It demands direct action on the part of each individual immediately. The difficulty for most of us is that we are mesmerized by the `collective' and think that individual action is of very little value. We say "What can I as an individual do against the mass, against this mountain of the collective?" Whereas, if you look more closely, you will find that the total action of the individual - if that total action is very clear, not befuddled by the influences of the collective, of the mass, nor by the influences of the past - is deeply effective. Because the collective is confused, the individual is generally confused. We want guidance and so we look to the past. we try to revive the religion of the past, or we turn to the guru immediately round the corner. But will any guidance clarify a confused mind? Please follow this a little bit, if you will. Our minds are confused. Each one of us is confused, there are no two ways about it. Religions have failed totally. You may mutter a lot of prayers, go to the temple, attend church, follow a particular routine or practice in accordance with what they say in the books; but that is not religion. Religion is something totally different. A confused mind may seek guidance in the things that have been said by various teachers, or repeat ten thousand prayers, but it will still remain confused because it is confused at the centre. Such a mind may clarify itself at the periphery, but at the core of its being there is uncertainty, tremendous confusion, a lack of real clarity of thinking. The moment an individual realizes that he is confused and cannot possibly look to the past or turn to another to be taught how to clear up his confusion, then his problem will be to find out for himself what has produced this confusion. But most of us are unwilling, I think, to admit that confused - and this attitude is obviously a fallacy, a self-deception, because everything around us and in ourselves points to confusion. We are in a state of self-contradiction. We try to lead a religious life, and yet we are worldly; in us there is sorrow, misery, frustration, many desires pulling in different directions. All this indicates, does it not?, a sense of confusion. And you have to realize that when you are confused you cannot possibly rely on anything; because the moment you rely on something when you are confused, that reliance merely breeds further confusion. One of the major causes of confusion is the following of authority. That is what we have done for many thousands of years: we have followed spiritual authority. Please, as I am talking, look at your own life; observe your own daily activities, observe your thoughts. I am only describing what is actually taking place. If you merely listen to the words and do not relate what is being said to the activities of your own mind, it will have no meaning at all. But if you can relate what is being said to your everyday life, to the actual state of your own mind, then the talk will have an immense significance, because then you will find that I am not telling you what to do; on the contrary, through the description, through the explanation, you are going to discover for yourself the process of your own thinking. And when you understand yourself, clarity comes. It is self-knowledge that brings clarity, not dependence on a book, a teacher, or a guide. To observe how you think, the manner of your response to challenge in your various relationships - to be aware of all that, not theoretically but actually, will reveal the process of yourself; and in that understanding there is clarity. So please, if I may most earnestly request it, listen and relate what you hear to the actual state of your own mind. Then these talks will be worthwhile; otherwise they will be mere words to be soon forgotten. You may not be aware that you are confused, but if you inquire deeply you will find that it is so. One of the major causes of this confusion is your reliance on authority for guidance: reliance on the church, on the priest, on the book, on the authority of a teacher. All living based on authority, as has been shown recently both politically and militarily, is the most destructive form of existence. Tyranny, whether of the State or of the priest, is detrimental to thought, to a really spiritual life; and as most of us live in the cage of authority, we have lost the capacity to think clearly and directly for ourselves. The fundamental change of which I am speaking comes when you no longer depend on any authority for the clarity of your own thinking. Authority is a very complex affair; because there is not only the authority of society, of the government, but there is also the authority of tradition, of the book, of the priest, the church, the temple. And even if you reject all that, there is still the authority of your own experience, and that experience is based on the past. After all, life is a process of challenge and response, and your response to challenge is experience. But that experience, which is a response to challenge, is dictated by your conditioning, by your past, so your experience is never original; therefore you cannot possibly rely on experience for clarity of thought, I think this is very important to understand. Knowledge is the residue of past experience, and if you rely on that knowledge to translate all your experiences, they will only strengthen the past and therefore condition your mind further. To make it simple: you are a Hindu, a Buddhist, a Moslem or a Christian, or you are a Communist, which means that you have been taught to think in a certain direction, and according to that background you have experience, - the experience being your response to challenge. This is taking place every day. You respond to challenge in terms of your past conditioning, and therefore your experience further strengthens your conditioning, which is obvious. So there is the authority not only of the priest, of the church, of the. temple, of the book, but also the authority of the knowledge which you have accumulated through personal experience. As I was saying, there must be a complete inward revolution, a total transformation in your thought, in your whole being; and that is not possible as long as you rely on authority, whether it be the authority of the Buddha, or of one of the Indian teachers, including myself, To rely on authority at any time destroys the capacity to find out what is truth. Freedom from authority is, the beginning of the fundamental revolution, of this individual transformation which is essential to the discovery of what is truth, what is God; and it is only this discovery on the part of each one of us that can bring about a different world. Mind is not made free through a deliberate act, or through any practice. Mind is made free from moment to moment, and then there is the understanding of truth at each moment. You cannot understand what is truth if you merely repeat that which you have been told; so a complete purgation of the mind and heart is necessary. We have to set out on the journey anew, which means that we cannot start with any assumption, any conclusion, however noble or profound it may be. When the mind starts thinking with a conclusion, it is not thinking at all. A mind that is capable of thought in the real sense of the word, has no conclusion, therefore it always starts anew; and it is only for such a mind that there is a possibility of discovering what is truth. Sirs, If you will observe your own minds you will see how extraordinarily difficult it is to think without a conclusion, whether it be the conclusion of ten thousand years ago, or of yesterday. These conclusions, either given to you or self created, prevent clarity of thought and bring about conclusion. So a mind that would clear up its own confusion must be aware of how it is caught in authority. I do not mean the authority which requires you to drive on the right or the left side of the road. I am talking of authority in a much deeper and more profound sense - the authority to which the mind clings. After all, the mind is everlasting seeking security for itself. It wants to be safe, it wants to be comfortable; and a mind that is concerned with its own security, or with the security of the particular group with which it has identified itself, is bound to create confusion, which is exactly what is happening in the world. Most of us are identified with a group, with a class, with a country, with a religion, which means that we think fragmentarily, in departments; therefore we are incapable of thinking out the many problems which are so pressing and urgent. Whereas an individual who thinks clearly ,who is unafraid to go into himself totally, not only at the conscious but also at the unconscious level-such an individual, I assure you, has an extraordinary vitality, the energy to create. And it is such individuals alone who can bring about a different world-not the scientist, and certainly not the priest or the politician. Sirs, please, you are all politicians at heart, because you are concerned with immediate results,with the past or the future, and not with the totality of the human mind. And this inward revolution, this fundamental change, can take place only when you as an individual free your mind from the authority of society, of the church, of the State, and discover for yourself that which is eternal. It is this individual revolution, with the discovery of truth which it brings, that has a transforming effect on the world - not the economic revolution. It is imperative, then, that those who are really in earnest should be aware of their own state, of their own idiosyncrasies, of their own conditioning, so that there can be no self-deception. For the beginning of wisdom is in self-knowledge, not in what you learn from the books. It is through observing how you talk, how you behave in your daily relationship with your wife, with your child, with your boss, that you discover, yourself; and that discovery is the beginning of wisdom. Out of self-knowledge comes clarity, and then you do not rely on anybody; then you are a guide to yourself, a light in the midst of darkness. Question: What is the religious life? Is it compatible with the struggle for existence which most of us have to face? Is the religious life necessary at all? Krishnamurti: For the moment let us not consider what is the religious life; we will come to that presently. But why do we divide the religious life from our daily life? Do we know what our daily life is? Are we aware of it, do we throb with it, suffer with it? Or do we merely say "I live a routine life and it is terribly boring, unsatisfactory, therefore I want to take up the religious life", - as if the religious life were entirely apart from our everyday living. It is because we do not understand our everyday living with all its sufferings, with all its ambitions, cruelties, contradictions, envies, deceptions, that we think we must turn to religion and find God somewhere else But it is fatal to think in this fragmentary way, in these watertight compartments, is it not? First let us find out what our daily existence is and understand it; then perhaps we shall find out what reality is. Whether we have to eschew the religious life in order to live in this world, and what the religious life is, we shall find out only when we understand our relationship with each other. That much is clear, is it not? If we do not understand our everyday life of going to the office, educating our children; if we do not understand lust, ambition, envy, greed, cruelty, and all the appalling things that are going on within ourselves, with an occasional flash of joy - if we don't understand all that, how can we understand something which is beyond all that? Without understanding the mind, anything that we try to understand beyond the mind will be equally confused, equally stupid. Surely, that is clear, is it not? A petty mind may think of God, but its God will be petty also. It may conceive of nirvana, moksha, heaven, or whatever it be, but its conception will be according to its own state. So, is the religious life necessary? You will find the answer for yourself when you begin to understand the ways of your own living. The question is very simple but the understanding of it is extremely complex, because it requires a great deal of penetration. Take, for instance, the very simple fact that our life is based on envy. That is so, is it not? Someone is more intelligent than I am, and I want to be equally intelligent; someone is more handsome, or has more money and can travel, and I want to be like him. The mind is constantly comparing itself with others, and such a mind is envious. An ambitious mind is obviously an envious mind; and that is our life, it is how we live from day to day. You know that very well without my telling you. At least, I am describing a fact, and if you are unwilling to look at the fact, it is your affair. It is a fact that morality of such a society is mere respectability, the perpetuation of a custom. Our daily life is based on this envious, acquisitive struggle, and we carry the same struggle into the so-called religious life; we want to achieve reality, we want to get nearer to God, closer to heaven, and all the rest of it. The same urge exists there as in this world: we want to be somebody. Now, is it possible for the mind to be totally free of envy, not just partially or in patches? It is not possible for you because you think you must live as you are living now, and you block yourself by saying "It is impossible, I have to live in this world". But the man who really sees what is happening in the world, who sees the misery, the struggle, the utter futility of it all, can inquire and find out that it is possible to be free of envy, not only in the superficial layers of the conscious mind, but also in the unconscious, which is much more conservative than the conscious mind. Only the mind that is totally free from envy is capable of understanding what is the religious life and why it is necessary to have a religious life, and such a mind knows the state of being sacred; therefore it need not go to any temple, church or priest. It has no need of any book, because in itself it is understanding; it has an incorruptible treasure. Such a life is possible. But the mind that wants to be envious and says that it is necessary to live in this world, will escape into a religion which has no value at all; it will go to the church or the temple and do whatever it is told. To such a mind religion is just a toy. But a mind that really inquires - and the mind is not free to inquire as long as it is envious - will know what it is to have a profoundly religious life, which has nothing whatever to do with any belief, with an ritual or dogma, with any prayer; because then the mind in itself is the religious life. Question: To me the greatest fear is the fear of death. How am I to get over this fear? Krishnamurti: This is a very complex question and needs very careful understanding. Most of us are afraid of death, so we believe in a life hereafter, in reincarnation, and cling to various comforting ideologies. Now, what is it we are afraid of, sirs? I am just thinking aloud for you. I am not telling you what to believe or not to believe - that would be stupid, it would be childish, immature. But if you and I go into the problem together, as we are doing now, then what you discover will be yours, not mine. It will be your truth, your understanding, and it will free you from the fear of death. Death is a fact, obviously. Through use the physical organism wears out, and its end is inevitable. We see death every day in so many forms, but that is not what we are afraid of. We are afraid of something else. What is it we are afraid of? Have you ever thought about it, sirs? Watch your own mind, your reactions, not just my explanations. Surely, we are afraid of not continuing; isn't that it? I have lived in this world twenty, thirty, fifty, or even eighty years; I have accumulated so much knowledge, so many memories; I have suffered and learned so much, and I still want to do so much more. Though there has been frustration, I still long to fulfil, and my life is much too short; so I want to lengthen it. But I know that through disease, old age, or accident, death is inevitable. Even if, through some medical process, I were to live three hundred years, death would still be awaiting me at the end. So my mind is concerned with continuity, the continuity of my name, my family, my property, my friendships, of the virtues I have gathered, and so on. These are the things which I know; and there is death, which I do not know. So what I am fundamentally afraid of is the known meeting the unknown. Meeting the unknown is death, and continuity is all that I know. From the moment I am born to the moment I die, I know only this continuity of memory, and the responses according to that memory. My friends, my family, my job, my social position, my virtues, my belief in God -these are a series of memories and associations with regard to which the mind says "This is I". It is these memories and associations that make up the `me', the self, the ego - and this is what one wants to continue. Sirs, if someone could guarantee that by some miraculous process you would continue indefinitely, then you would have no fear. But life is not so simple as all that, is it? You have your beliefs, your conclusions. All the religions say there is resurrection, reincarnation, or some other form of continuity; yet the sting of fear goes on. The problem, therefore, is how to die, not eventually but now; to know death while living, and not when death is upon us through old age, disease, or accident. To know death now is to experience a sense of not continuing; it is to enter the house of death willingly, knowingly, with full consciousness. When your mind no longer thinks in terms of continuing, when it dies every day to everything that it has gathered, then you will know what it means to meet the unknown, which is death. I hope I am making myself clear. What is it that we want to continue? Our memories, our struggles, our pains, our joys, our recognition of friends. We see that memories knowledge the things of yesterday move through' the present as a passage to the future and that is all we want; yet we know there is death, an ending. We are afraid of that ending only when we think in terms of continuing when we say "I must fulfil my ambition I must become somebody I must be famous I must be the greatest this or that". As long as there is the desire for continuity, there will be fear; and if you observe you will see that that which continues is never creative. Only that which knows an ending has a beginning which is new. Is it possible to die every day and not wait for the ultimate death, to die to everything that you have known? Try it and you will see how extraordinarily subtle and vital it becomes, how your mind is made new, fresh. That which has an ending alone has a renewal, not the mind which continues, which knows a thousand yesterdays. To the mind which, continues, the present is only a passage to the future, and such a mind is caught in the bondage of time. That sense of continuity is the ego, the `me', with which the mind identifies itself. The link of identification with property, with people, with ideas, is merely memory, and that memory is what we want to continue. I say there will always be fear unless you know what death is now, even though you are not now suffering, diseased, or involved in an accident. What matters is to experience directly for yourself the ending of everything you have known, so that your mind meets the unknown. It is not so very difficult; only the explanation is difficult. If you really observe and are aware of how your mind operates, you will know that in wanting to continue the mind is like a gramophone record which is everlastingly repeating. Only the mind that is silent, that is free from the past, can know the new, the eternal, the timeless; and such a mind is not concerned with the hereafter. There is another point which is very interesting if you go into it. Is there a continuity of the mind which does not want to know death now? You are afraid of death, you are nervous, anxious, or you have never thought about it, and you die. Is there the continuity of such a mind? Obviously there is a continuity of the thoughts you are thinking. You have identified yourself with your property, with your wife, and so on, and this identification through recognition sets going a process of thinking like a vibration or a wave which has its own continuity and which can be got into touch with through mediums and all the rest of it. But that has no vitality, it is all silly and superficial. What we are concerned with is something totally different: is it possible to be free from the fear of death? There is freedom from the fear of death only when you know death in the now. It does not mean that you go and commit suicide, but you find out whether the mind, which is the result of time, of many thousands of years, of all the joys, sorrows, pains and endeavours of man - whether such a mind can end, that is, see the unimportance of continuity. You may have a wife and children, and some property; but if you are not identified with any of that, if you die to it all in full vigour, with full comprehension, with a vitality which has its own reward, then you will find that there is no longer fear; then the mind is already in that state in which the unknown is. It is not the virtuous, respectable mind that will know the eternal - for the virtue that is cultivated is no virtue - , but only the mind made innocent because it is free, no longer tethered to the past; and for such a mind there is no fear. January 16, 1957. COLOMBO 3RD PUBLIC TALK 20TH JANUARY 1957 Considering the critical world situation and seeing the extraordinary conflict that is going on both outwardly and within ourselves, and being aware also of all the pressures - economic, social and religious - to which we are subject, it seems to me essential to bring about a fundamental change in the life of each one of us. I do not think that most of us appreciate the importance of such a revolution - a revolution that is uninfluenced and not dependent on any circumstances. This fundamental, radical change is not dependent on time, and therefore it has something of the quality of the eternal. But most of us are inclined to wait for change through social reforms, through governmental legislation and outward scientific progress, and so we are always dependent. The changes which are so obviously essential will somehow be brought about, we hope, through the pressure of society, through some kind of vague new educational system, or through social upheaval; but any such change is merely an adaptation to circumstances, and I don't think that adaptation, though it has a certain value, is really a change at all, because it does not free the mind to inquire deeply into the reality and the creativity of this thing called life. Revolution, this inward change which is not brought about by outward invitation or compulsion, is possible only when there is self-knowledge. That is, if I don't know the ways of my own mind, the pressures, motives, compulsions, traditions that guide my thought and feeling, both consciously and unconsciously - if I don't know the totality of myself, then any form of change is really a modified continuity of what has been. Without knowing the whole content of myself, change is no change at all; it is merely an adaptation, a convenience, a conformity, a following of custom, tradition. So, to bring about a radical change - and a radical change is essential when the crisis is totally new and imminent - there must be self-knowledge; and self-knowledge is not the knowledge that is gathered from books, from a system of philosophy, or from some religious teacher. Self-knowledge comes through observing myself from day to day, from moment to moment, through knowing the urges, the compulsions that spring from the unconscious, and through being aware of my gestures, the way I talk, the manner of my thinking, the anatomy of my feeling. If I don't know all that, then obviously any change is merely a modified continuity of what has been, and it therefore conditions my future action. I think it is important for each one of us to understand this. Religion should essentially teach man to be a light unto himself and not depend on another, on any church, saviour, or system of thought. I think that is clear. Yet the whole social and religious structure which we have built around us makes us dependent; it has become an instrument of compulsion to ourselves and to others. Religions have emphasized, have they not?, the importance of rituals, of systems, of beliefs and dogmas; so you have been led away from the one essential fact, which is that you must know yourself. When you know yourself completely you will find that you don't need a guide, because you yourself are the guide, and then there is a total action which operates because the mind is free from every form of fear, whether conscious or unconscious. The mind is then the instrument of this total action, and not the creator of total action. I don't know if I am making myself clear. In thinking of complete action, most of us want to act in a manner which will be free of contradictions, free of regrets and the fear of future punishment. We want every action to be a total response of our whole being. Because we see the confusion, the misery, the contradiction, the innumerable difficulties that arise from conditioned action, we try to find an action which will be total and in which this misery, this contradiction can never exist. So the mind, in seeking a total action, inquires, studies, suffers, and possesses an idea which it thinks is total action. That is why you study philosophy, seek out gurus, and all the rest of it: you feel that if you can find a total way of acting, all these contradictions and miseries will not arise. But I say the mind cannot find total action except through self-knowledge. And when through self-knowledge the mind is free, then total action will operate through the mind; the mind will not have to seek it. I think it is important to understand this. You don't really know yourself. To know yourself is to know the extraordinary capacity of your own mind, to uncover the recesses of your own heart; it is to know how your mind operates, and whether your thinking is action or mere reaction; it is to be aware of the intricacies of the unconscious and see all the intimations and hints that the unconscious is projecting into the conscious. But you are not aware of all that, you are just operating on the surface and going through the routine of daily existence. You go to the office, do your work, and return, carrying on day after day in the same old pattern; and you do not want any disturbance of that pattern which means that you are superficially satisfied. When you are disturbed superficially, you seek further satisfaction, so your life remains on the superficial level. Though you may meditate, read the scriptures, think of God, it is all on the surface. Your mind is like a gramophone record repeating a song you have heard. It is not even your song, it is the song of another; and there may be no your song', but only `the song'. So it is very important to understand not only the conscious, but also the unconscious mind. The unconscious mind is much more powerful, much more insistent much more directive and conservative than the conscious mind; because the conscious is merely the educated mind which adjusts itself to the environment. I do not know if you have noticed a priest riding on the bus or on a motorbike. This situation is quite contradictory, if you come to think of it, He is adjusting himself, as you do, to the environment, to the pressure from outside, but inwardly he is the same - that is, the unconscious is still the residue of the past. Sirs, if I may suggest it, watch your own minds; do not merely listen to my words, but through my words observe the operation of your own thinking and discover yourself. I am describing the picture, but it is your picture, not mine. If you really watch yourself as you listen, you will find a radical change taking place in spite of your conscious mind. It is like a seed that, being sown in fertile soil, pushes through the earth and puts out a blossom. So may I respectfully and persistently ask you to listen so that through the activity of listening you find out the real facts, the truth about yourself. The discovery of that truth will liberate the mind, and then you will not have to pursue the truth which liberates. The unconscious mind is the residue of all that has been for centuries past; it is the storehouse of tradition, the inheritance of the race, and to bring about a radical change there, is much more difficult than to change on the surface. Look at yourselves, sirs, and you will observe a very simple fact: that though you have motorcars, modern buses, gramophones, recording machines, and all the rest of it, inwardly you are steeped in a thousand, or ten thousand years of tradition. The unconscious is much more conservative than the conscious mind, much more traditional, and therefore far less capable of real transformation. So it is very important to understand the unconscious, not merely to scratch on the surface of the mind and think, you have understood yourself. To understand the unconscious as well as the conscious mind, there must be a sense of watchfulness which is spontaneous and not enforced. If you watch a child with condemnation, with criticism, with a sense of comparison, what happens? The child feels it and becomes paralysed, he freezes in his action. You must have noticed it. Whereas, if you begin to play with the child and let him do what he likes, then, even though you are there, he feels free to carry on in his own way, and then you can study him. Similarly, if the mind watches itself with condemnation, with justification, with a sense of comparison, and so on, when the thinking process freezes and your thoughts become still; but that is not stillness, the mind is simply afraid to move. On the other hand, if you watch with the ease of spontaneity, with the ease of familiarity, without any sense of comparing or justifying, then you will see that the totality of your mind begins to uncover itself. You do not have to uncover it, nor does the conscious mind have to uncover the unconscious. The mind will uncover itself, just as the child begins to play in your presence because he has confidence in you. So the unconscious as well as the conscious mind begins to uncover itself if you approach it without any sense of direction, opposition or identification; and in this state of awareness you will find that the mind is learning the content of itself. Learning is not possible if there is accumulation of what has been learnt. Please follow this. The mind is capable of learning only when there is no accumulation. The moment there is accumulation, which is knowledge, learning ceases, because knowledge interprets what is being learned. Perhaps this is something new and therefore rather difficult, so please pay a little attention. At present you know only one state, the state of being taught, of being told; and a mind that has been taught is incapable of learning, because it can move only along the line of what it has been taught. The teaching may give it an opportunity to inquire, but only in a positive or negative direction. A mind that has been taught cannot learn, because learning is a new process. You cannot learn if you already know. What is there to learn? Only the mind that does not know, that has not accumulated, is capable of learning. Most of us are incapable of learning because our minds are filled with things known. When the mind moves in the field of the known it is not learning; we think it is learning, but in actuality it is merely accumulating or furthering what has been, which is knowledge. To be capable of learning, the mind must be free of this knowledge - the knowledge of what it has been told, of what it has learnt. That is why it is tremendously important to know the content of your own mind. Truth, reality, God, or whatever name you may like to give it, is not something to be learnt; you cannot come to it with knowledge. The mind must be free of the known if it is to know the unknowable; and the difficulty for most of us is that we think we can arrive at the unknown by moving from the known to the known. There must be self-knowledge, which means learning about yourself as you live from moment to moment; and you cannot learn about yourself if you begin with what you learned yesterday and carry on with that in order to understand more. There is a possibility of learning about yourself only when there is the death of what you have already learnt. Sirs, please pay a little attention to this, because when there is the understanding of yourself, out of that comes an extraordinary sense of release, of complete freedom from fear. This freedom from fear gives an astonishingly vital energy to the mind, and you need this energy if your mind is to be in a state of complete silence so that it is capable of receiving that which is true. You need great energy for the mind to be still - not dull, but still. A petty mind may think about stillness, but it is not still; it may meditate on silence, but silence is not. This silence, this tranquillity, this peace comes only through learning about and understanding yourself, so that the mind is in that state of energy which brings stillness. Then only is it possible for the eternal to be. In considering these questions together, please bear in mind that we are not looking for an answer; because the solution lies in the problem itself, and not away from the problem. Question: You say that the mind will be free when the thinking process ceases. Hinduism and Buddhism advocates various practices towards this end. What method do you advocate? Krishnamurti: Let us first examine this whole question of pursuing a method in order to achieve a result - a psychological, not a factual result. We are not now considering how to end the process of thinking. We shall come to that later. What do you mean when you say that the practising of a method, a system, will give you what you want, very subtly or very obviously? I want peace of mind, and the various religions, including Buddhism and Hinduism, say "Do these things and you will get it". So day after day I practise a particular method, I sit in meditation, controlling my mind, suppressing unwanted thoughts, and so on. I go through all this, hoping to arrive at a state of which I call peace. Now, what does a method or a system do when you practise it? What is the effect on your mind of practising a method, whether it be a first-class super method or a very stupid one? Surely, the effect is to make the mind conform to a pattern of thinking, which is to force it to function in the groove of a particular habit. That is all the method is concerned with. And a mind that is functioning in the groove of habit is not a mind at all, it is merely a mechanism that repeats the same operation day after day. Do please understand this, sirs. Though a method may promise you bliss, heaven, nirvana, or God, that method does not free the mind; it only enslaves the mind to itself. A mind that practises a method obviously conforms to it. So the method becomes the means of holding the mind within a pattern of thinking; and a mind that thinks in terms of a pattern, a habit, is never capable of being free. If you really understand this, not because I say it but because you see the truth of it for yourself then you will find that you are free of all methods. No method,however `good' it may be, can free you; on the contrary, all methods are essentially the same in that they enslave you to themselves. The mind that conforms to any method, to any authority, ceases to function as a free mind, and is therefore incapable of inquiring into what is truth. I am just pointing out the fact, and I hope it is clear. You can either look at or disregard the fact, it is up to you. If you look at the fact and go into it sanely, reasonably, without any prejudice, you are bound to see that all methods, whether Hindu, Buddhist, Christian, Islamic, or what you will, condition the mind, and that through a method the mind can never be free. Then comes the problem: How is one to free the mind from the thinking process? I am using that word `how' as an inquirer, I am not asking for a method through which to free the mind. Now, why do you want thought to come to an end? Is it because you have been told or have read that in ending the thought process you will come to something much greater - which means that you are seeking a reward? Or do you want to end thought because you understand the significance of thinking? What is the significance of thinking? Is thinking the means to a real discovery of what is truth, what is God, what is beyond the measure of the mind? If it is, then we must think completely, fully. But if thinking is not the key that opens the door, then obviously we must put it away. What do you mean by thinking? When I ask you that question, the whole mechanism of thinking is set, going, is it not? My question awakens in your mind a series of associations, memories. Memory responds, and then you give your reply. So what you call thinking is always, and not just when a question is asked, the response of memory; and the response of memory is conditioned thinking. You think as a Sinhalese, as a Buddhist, or a Christian, as a man or a woman, as a businessman or a lawyer. The whole mechanism of your mind is conditioned by the knowledge which you have gathered as a professional or a so called religious person, by the things you have been trained in, and from that background you think. The background, which is memory, tradition, responds to challenge, and that response, through words, is what you call thinking. This is comparatively simple. Since thinking is the response of memory, and memory is always conditioned, thinking can never be free. There is no such thing as free thinking, because thinking is always associated with the past. So thinking can never be free. That is a discovery, sirs, not a statement that you have learnt from me. If you have really listened you will find it a tremendous shock and discovery to realize that all thinking about a problem, whether personal or scientific, immediate or in the future, is conditioned by the past, which is memory, and that a human being who would discover something new must put memory aside. He may use memory afterwards, but to use memory to discover is to be conditioned, and a conditioned mind can never find out what is true. The function of thinking is not discovery, but to put into action what has been discovered. Seeing the truth of that the mind says "Thought must end" - which is not to confine, suppress, or sublimate thought, but to realize that thought as a process must come to an end. Thought comes to an end only through self-knowledge, that is, when you understand the whole process of thinking and don't just say "I must end thought", which is an immature statement without any validity or significance. A petty mind thinks "I must end thinking in order to find truth". Such a mind is still petty, and it will never find truth. But when the mind says "I am petty and I must understand this whole process of thinking", which is true self-knowledge, then it is no longer petty. Such a mind understands the significance of thinking, and therefore it is free from the thought process. Being totally still, the mind is made new, fresh, innocent. Only the mind that has put away and is free of the known is capable of receiving the unknown. Such a mind is not the observer of the unknown, it is not a receptacle of the unknown; it is the unknown itself. Question: You say that the conditioning of the mind, with which we approach all our problems, breeds conflict and prevents the understanding of truth. How can the mind be unconditioned? Krishnamurti: It is a fact that the mind is conditioned which thinks in terms of Buddhism, Christianity, Communism, Hinduism, or any other organized belief, whether it be socio-political, or a belief in God. Do you understand, sirs? You can be conditioned to believe in God, and another group of people can be conditioned not to believe in God, which is obvious. The Communist does not believe in God, he says it is all tommyrot, it is just the way you have been educated, it is a form of escape; you have merely accepted what you have been told. But the Communist himself accepts what he has been told; he too has his books, his leaders, his authorities. He has been conditioned to believe in no-God, just as you have been conditioned to believe in God or in something else. Both are conditioned, obviously. Your conditioning is not superior, nor is his inferior. There is no nobler or less noble conditioning; there is only the fact that the mind is conditioned. You can observe this fact in daily life if you are aware of the functioning of your own mind. You think along a certain line. As a Buddhist or a Christian you will do or not do certain things, just as a Communist will do or not do certain other things; so both minds are conditioned. Now, the questioner wants to know how to free the mind from its conditioning. First of all, sirs, you must know that your mind is conditioned. The mind cannot free itself till it knows it is conditioned. If I am blind, I must know that I am blind before I can do something about my blindness; otherwise, my talking about blindness as very little value. Similarly, you must Mow for yourself that your mind is conditioned, and you must also find out in what manner it is conditioned. You think as a Sinhalese or a Hindu, you have certain customs, a certain social morality, certain ways of approaching problems, a certain disregard for women; you feel contempt for the servant and respect for the big man which is reflected in the manner of your speech.. All this is your conditioning, which is the result of the tradition in which you have been brought up, whether that tradition is comparatively new or ten thousand years old. You cannot be aware of your conditioning if you oppose it, if you think it is right or wrong, good or bad, noble or ignoble, if you say "This I will keep, that I will throw away". Whereas, if the mind approaches the totality of its conditioning without condemnation or justification, then that very approach will free the mind from conditioning. When you know that you are functioning in the groove of tradition, and realize how stupid it is, it drops away, you don't have to struggle against it. But the difficulty is that you find profit, pleasure in tradition, in being conditioned; you find it is a safe thing; so the unconscious, which is very conservative, hesitant, holds you. Conditioning involves the totality of your thinking-feeling, whether pleasurable or painful; and when you realize that you cannot seek pleasure and discard pain, then you will find that, because you understand the whole import of conditioning, the mind is free of conditioning; you do not have to do a thing about it. No effort on the part of the mind to uncondition itself can bring about freedom from conditioning, because all such effort is born of conditioning; you have been told from childhood that you must make an effort in order to be free. But if you understand the whole process of conditioning, there is freedom, you don't have to make an effort to be free. Question: Is it not desirable to revive the great religions and the glorious cultures associated with them, since in their pure form they have helped many people towards the spiritual life? Krishnamurti: When there is confusion there is always the urge to revive the past, because it is the safe thing to do. All over the Christian world they are shouting that Christianity must be revived, and apparently you are doing the same thing here, saying that the ancient religions must be revived. Now, can the ancient religions be revived? What do you mean by religion? Surely, religion has nothing whatever to do with dogmas, beliefs, rituals, nor with the authority-bound mentality of the priest. Organized belief has been built up for the profit of the few in the name of the many, and that is obviously not religion. Religion is something entirely different. Religion is love; and can love be `revived'? To be religious is just to love people, to be kind, to be generous, not to hate, not to be ambitious, not to be envious, to have sympathy, to have compassion; and can these things be `revived'? Can you go back and bring the dead books, the dead traditions, to life? Or is it that love cannot be revived, because love is only in the present, not in the past or the future? Love is not something that you can get through practice. You can love, be compassionate, only in the present, in the immediate. It is because you do not love, because you are confused, that you seek to revive something which is dead. If you had love you would never talk about revival. A living man does not talk about revival; he is living. It is the dead man who wants to put life into himself - the so-called life that had made him die. So religion is not organization, religion is not authority, religion is not dogma, ritual, or belief; nor is it the knowledge accumulated through the past. Religion is a state of living in the present; it is to understand the whole process, the totality of time. This understanding frees the mind from fear, and only then does the mind know what it is to love. A mind that loves does not seek God or truth, because love itself is truth. To be completely attentive is be good. The mind that cultivates virtue is not a virtuous mind. Love cannot be revived. Only dead things can be revived, in the sense that you can pump life into them hoping they will live. They never will. Let the dead lie dead. Be concerned with the living. That is much more difficult, because it demands great clarity, sympathy, generosity, love. January 20, 1957. COLOMBO 4TH PUBLIC TALK 23RD JANUARY 1957 One of our greatest difficulties is that we do not like to be disturbed, especially when we are a people steeped in tradition, in the easy ways of life, and with a culture that has merely become repetitive. Perhaps you have noticed that we put up a great deal of resistance to anything that is new. We do not want to be disturbed; and if we are disturbed, we soon adjust ourselves to a new pattern and again settle down, only to be again shaken, disturbed and troubled. So we go on through life, always being driven from a pattern into which we have settled down. The mind objects most violently and defensively to any suggestion of a change from within. It is willing to be compelled by economic, scientific, or political forces to adjust itself to a new environment, but inwardly it remains the same. One can observe this process going on if one is at all aware of things about one and within oneself. And religion, it seems to me, is the most disturbing state of mind. It is not something from which to get comfort, solace, an easy explanation of the sorrows, travails and tribulations of life; on the contrary, religion demands a mind that is extraordinarily alert, questioning, doubting, inquiring, that does not accept at all. The truth of religion is to be discovered individually, it can never be made universal. And yet, if you observe, you will see that religions throughout the world have become universal - universal in the sense that a large number of people follow them and adhere to their ideas, beliefs, dogmas, rituals; therefore they cease to be religion at all. Religion, surely, is the search for truth on the part of each one of us, and not merely the acceptance of what has been said by another - it does not matter who it is, whether the Buddha, the Christ, or any other. They may point out certain things; but merely to repeat what has been said by them is so immature, it is merely verbal and without much significance. To discover the truth, that reality which is beyond the measure of thought, the mind must be disturbed, shaken out of its habits, its easy acceptance of a philosophy, system of thought. As the mind is made up of all our thoughts, feelings and activities, conscious as well as unconscious, it is our only instrument of inquiry, of search, of discovery, and to allow it to settle down and function in a groove seems to me a heinous crime. It is of the utmost importance that we should be disturbed - and we are being disturbed externally. The impact of the West on the East is a shock, a disturbing element. Outwardly, superficially, we are adjusting ourselves to it, and we think we are making progress inwardly; but if you observe you will see that inwardly we are not seeking at all. Seeking has an extraordinary significance in the life of the individual. Most of us seek with a motive. When we seek with a motive, the motive dictates the end of the search; and when a motive dictates the end, is there a search at all? It seems to me that to seek the realization of what you already know or have formulated, is not search. There is search only when you do not know, when there is no motive, no compulsion, no escape, and only then is there a possibility of discovering that which is truth, reality, God. But most of us are seeking with a motive, are we not? If you observe your own way of life, your own manner of thinking and feeling, you will see that most of us are discontented with ourselves and our environment, and we want to direct this discontent along easy channels till we find contentment. A mind that is pursuing satisfaction, easily finds a way of overcoming discontent, and such a mind is obviously incapable of discovering what is truth. Discontent is the only force that makes you move, inquire, search. But the moment you canalize it and try to find contentment or fulfilment through any means, obviously you go to sleep. That is exactly what is happening in religious matters. We are no longer on a journey, individually seeking what is truth. We are merely being driven by the collective, which means going to the temple, repeating certain phrases, explanations, and thinking that is religion. Surely religion is something entirely different. It is a state of mind in which the inquirer is not urged by any motive and has no centre from which to start his inquiry. Truth is not to be found through the motive of wanting contentment, peace, something superior in order to be satisfied. I think it is very important to understand this. We have made religion, have we not?, into something which gives us satisfaction, an explanation for our troubles, a solace for our sorrows, for the things that we are, and we easily fit into a satisfying groove of thought, thinking we have solved the problem. There is no individual inquiry on our part, but merely a repetition, a theoretical and not an actual understanding of what is. To find out what is truth we must be free of the collective, which means we must be truly individual - which we are not. I do not know if you have observed how little individual you are. Being an individual is not a matter of character or habit. After all, character is the meeting of the past with the present, is it not? Your character is the result of the past in response to the present, and that response of the past is still the collective. To put it differently, are you an individual at all? You have a name, a form, a family, you may have a separate house and a personal bank account; but are you inwardly an individual? Or are you merely the collective acting in a certain approved, respectable manner? Observe yourself and you will see that you are not at all an individual. You are a Sinhalese, a Buddhist, a Christian, an Englishman, an Indian, or a Communist, which means that you are the collective; and surely one must be free of the collective, consciously as well as unconsciously, in order to find out what is truth. To free the mind from the repetitious urge of the collective requires very hard work, and only a mind thus free is capable of discovering what is truth. This actually does happen when you are vitally interested in something. You put aside all the imaginations, ideas and struggles of the past, and you push forward to inquire. But in religious matters you do not. There you are conservative, you are the collective, you think in terms of the mass, of what you have been told about nirvana, samadhi, moksha, heaven, or what you will. There is no individual endeavour to discover wholly for yourself. I think such individual endeavour is very important, especially in the present world crisis, because it is only this individual search that will release the creative and open the door to reality. As long as we are not real individuals, as long as we are merely the reaction of the past, as most of us are, life remains a series of repetitive responses without much significance. But if in our search we endeavour as individuals to find out what is truth, then a totally new energy, a totally different kind of creation comes into being. I do not know if you have ever experimented with yourself by watching your own mind and seeing how it accumulates memory. From memory you act, from knowledge there is action. Knowledge is, after all, experience, and this experience dictates future experience. So you will find that experience does not liberate at all; on the contrary, experience strengthens the past. A mind that would liberate itself from the past must understand this whole process of accumulating knowledge through experience, which conditions the mind. The centre from which you think, the `me', the self, the ego, is a bundle of memories, and you are nothing else but that. You may think you are the Atman, the soul, but you are still cultivating memory, and that memory projects the coming experience, which further conditions the mind. So experience strengthens the `me', the self, which is in essence memory - `my house', `my qualities', `my character', `my race', `my knowledge', and the whole structure which is built around that centre. In seeking reality through experience, the mind only further conditions itself and does not liberate itself from that centre. Now, is it possible for the mind not to accumulate knowledge around the centre; and so be capable of discovering truth from moment to moment? Because it is only the truth discovered from moment to moment that is really important, not the truth which you have already experienced and which, having become a memory, creates the urge to further experience. There are two kinds of knowledge: there is the factual knowledge of how to build a bridge, all the scientific information that has accumulated through the centuries, and there is knowledge as psychological memory. These two forms of knowledge are not clearly defined. One operates through the other. But it is psychological memory of which the `me', the self is made up; and is it possible for the mind to be free of that memory? Is it possible for the mind not to think in terms of accumulation, in terms of gathering experience, but to move without that centre? Can we live in this world without the operation of the self, which is a bundle of psychological memories? You will find, if you really inquire into it deeply, that such a thing is possible, and then you can use factual knowledge without creating the havoc which is being created now. Then factual knowledge does not breed antagonism between man and man. At present there is antagonism, there is hate, separation, anxiety, war, and all the rest of it, because psychologically you are using factual knowledge for self-aggrandizement, for a separative existence. One can see very well in the world that religions divide people - religions being idea, belief, dogma, ritual, not the feeling of love, of compassion. Such religions separate people, just as nationalism does. What is separating us, then, is not factual knowledge, but the knowledge upon which we depend psychologically for our emotional comfort, for our inward security. So a mind that would find reality, God, or what name you will, must be free of this bundle of memories which is identified as the `me'. And it is really not so very difficult. This bundle is made up of ambition, greed, envy, the desire to be secure, and if one puts one's mind to the task and works hard, surely one can liberate the mind from this bundle. One can live in this world without ambition, without envy, without hate. We think it is impossible because we have never tried it. It is only the mind that is free from hate, from envy, from separative conclusions, beliefs - it is only such a mind that is capable of discovering that reality which is love, compassion. Question: What is understanding? Is it awareness? Is it right thinking? If understanding does not come about through the functioning of the mind, then what is the function of the mind? Krishnamurti: Sir, there are several things involved in this question. First of all, what is thinking? - not right thinking or wrong thinking. Surely, what we call thinking is the response of memory to any challenge. That is, when I ask you a question, you respond quickly if you are familiar with the answer, or hesitantly, with an interval of time, if you are not. The mind looks into the records of memory within itself, and having found the answer, replies to the question; or, not finding the answer in the records of memory, it says "I don't know". So thinking is the response of memory, obviously; it is not a very complex thing. You think as a Buddhist, a Sinhalese, a Christian, or a Hindu, because your background is that of a particular culture, race, or religion. If you do not belong to any of these groups and you are a Communist, for example, again you respond according to that particular pattern. This process of response according to a certain background is what you call thinking. You have discovered, then, that there is no freedom in thinking, because your thinking is dictated by your background. Thinking as you know it now originates from knowledge, which is memory; it is mechanical because it is the response to challenge of a conditioned mind. There is creativeness, a perception of the new, only when there is no response of memory. In mathematics you may proceed step by step from the known to the known; but if you would go much further and discover something new, the known must for the time being be put in abeyance. So the functioning of the mind is at present a mechanical response of memory, conscious as well as unconscious. The unconscious is a vast storehouse of accumulated tradition, of racial inheritance, and it is that background which responds to challenge. I think that is fairly obvious. Now, is there right thinking and wrong thinking? Or is there only freedom from what we call thinking - from which follows right action? Do you understand, sirs? Being brought up in India, Europe, or America, I think in terms of my particular conditioning, according to the way I have been educated. My background tells me what to think, and it also tells me what is right thinking and what is wrong thinking. If I were brought up as a Communist, then for me right thinking would be that which is anti-religious and anti-clerical; according my Communistic background; any other manner of thinking would be a deviation, and therefore to be liquidated. And is a mind that responds according to its background, which it calls thinking, capable of right action? Or is there right action only when the mind is free from the conditioning whose response it calls thinking? Do you understand, sirs? I hope I am making myself clear. Most of us do not even ask what is right thinking. We want to know what is right thought, because right thinking might be very disturbing, it might demand inquiry, and we do not want to inquire. We want to be told what is right thought, and we are told what is right thought by organized religions, by social morality, by philosophies, and by our own experience. We proceed along that line until we are no longer satisfied with the pattern of right thought, and then we ask "What is right thinking?" - which means that the mind is a little more active, a little more willing to inquire, to be disturbed. Thinking is fluid, whereas right thought implies a static state; and most of us function in static states. Now, if we really want to inquire into what is right thinking, we must first find out, not what is right thinking, but what is thinking; and we have seen that what we call thinking is a process of response from the background, from that centre of accumulated memory which is identified as the `me' And I say, is there right thinking in that field at all? Or is there right thinking, right response, right action only when the mind is free from the background? The questioner wants to know what is understanding. Surely, understanding is this whole process of uncovering the ways of the mind, which is what we have been doing just now. Understanding implies, does it not?, a state of mind that is really inquiring; and you cannot inquire if you start with a conclusion, an assumption, a wish. Then what is the function of the mind? The mind now functions fragmentarily, in departments, in parts; it does not function as a totality because it is now the instrument of desire, and desire can never be total, whole. Desire is always fragmentary, contradictory. You can easily find out the truth of all this if you observe these things in yourself. As we know it now, the mind is an instrument of sensation, of gratification of desire, and desire is always fragmentary, there can never be total desire. Such a mind, with all its self-contradictory desires, can never be integrated. You cannot put hate and love together; you cannot integrate envy and goodness; you cannot harmonize the opposites. That is what most of us are trying to do, but it is an impossibility. So what is the true function of the mind? Is it not to free itself from the contradictions of desire and be the instrument of an action which is not the mere response of memory? I am afraid all this sounds rather difficult, but if you really observe yourself, you will find that it is not. I am only describing what actually takes place if you do not suppress, sublimate, or find a substitute for desire, but really understand it. You can understand desire only when there is no condemnation, no comparison. If I want to understand you, for example, I must not condemn, I must not justify, I must not compare you with somebody else; I must simply observe you. Similarly, if it would understand desire, the mind must watch itself without condemnation, without any sense of comparison, which only creates the conflict of duality. So we see what understanding is. We see that there can be no right thinking, which is, right action, as long as the mind is conditioned. There is right action only when the mind is free from conditioning. It is not a matter of right thinking, and then right action. Thinking and action are separate only as long as desire functions as memory, as the pursuit of success; but when there is freedom from that bundle of memories which is identified as the `me', then there is action which is outside the social pattern. But that is much more complicated, and we shall leave it for the moment. We see then, that the function of the mind is to understand and `it cannot understand if it condemns if it thinks segmentally, in parts. The mind will think in fragments, in compartments, as long as there is desire, whether it be the desire for God or for a car, because desire in itself is contradictory, and any one desire is always in opposition to other desires. So there can be understanding only when the mind, through self-knowledge, discovers the ways of its own operation. And to discover the ways of the mind's operation there must be awareness, you must watch it as you would watch a child whom you love. You do not condemn or judge the child, you do not compare him with somebody else; you watch in order to understand him. Similarly, you must be aware of the operation of your own mind, see its subtleties, its recesses, its extraordinary depth. Then you will find, if you pursue it further, that the mind becomes astonishingly quiet, very still; and a still mind is capable of receiving that which is truth. Question: According to the theory of karma, in which many of us believe, our actions and circumstances in this life are largely governed by what we did in our past lives. Do you deny that we are governed by our karma? What about our duties and responsibilities? Krishnamurti: Sir, again, this is a very complex question and it needs thinking out to the very end. It is not a matter of what you believe. You believe that you are the result of the past, that previous lives have conditioned your present circumstances; and there are others who do not believe in all that. They have been brought up to believe that we live only one life and are conditioned only by our present environment. So let us for the moment put aside what you believe or do not believe, and let us find out what we mean by karma, which is much more important; because if you really understand what karma is, then you will find it is not a thing which dictates your present action. We shall go into it and you will see. Now, what do we mean by karma? The word itself, as you know, means to act, to do. You never act without a cause, or without a motive, or without I being compelled by circumstances. You act either under the influence of the past, of a thousand yesterdays, or because you are pushed in a particular direction by the pressure of immediate circumstances. That is, there is a cause and an effect. Please follow this a little bit. For example, you have come here to listen to me. The cause is that you want to listen; and the effect of listening you will find out, if you are really interested. But the point is, there is a cause and there is an effect. Now, is the cause ever fixed, and the effect already determined? Do you understand, sirs? In the case of an acorn, a seed, there is a fixed cause and a fixed effect. An acorn can never become a palm tree, it will always produce an oak. We think in the same way about karma, do we not? Having done something yesterday, which is the cause, I think the effect of that action is predetermined, fixed. But is it? Is the cause fixed? And is the effect fixed? Does not the effect of a cause become in its turn the cause of still another effect. Do you understand? I do not want to take more examples, because examples do not really clarify the issue, but tend to confuse it. So we must think this out clearly without using examples. We know that action has a cause I am ambitious, therefore I do something. There is a cause and there is an effect. Now, does not the effect become the cause of a future action? Surely there is never a fixed cause, nor a fixed effect. Each effect, undergoing innumerable influences and being transformed by them, becomes the cause of still another effect. So there is never a fixed cause and a fixed effect, but a chain of cause-effect-cause. Sirs, this is so obvious. You did something yesterday which had its origin in a previous cause, and which will lead to certain consequences tomorrow; but in the meantime the consequences, being subject to innumerable pressures, influences, have undergone a change. You think that a given cause will produce a fixed effect; but the effect is never exactly the same, because something has happened between the two. So there is a continuous chain of cause becoming effect, and effect becoming cause. If you think in terms of "I was that in the past, I am this today, and I shall be such-and-such in the next life", it is too immature, utterly silly, because that way of thinking is not fluid, it has no living, vital quality. That is decay, deterioration, death. But if you think about the matter deeply, it is really marvellous, because then you will see that this chain of cause-effect becoming another cause can be broken at any time, and that the mind can be free of karma. Through understanding the whole process of the mind which is conditioned by the past, you will see for yourself that the effect of the past in the present or in the future is never fixed, never absolute, final. To think that it is final is degradation, ignorance, darkness. Whereas, if you see the significance of cause-effect becoming again the cause, then because that whole process is for you a living, moving thing, you can break it at any time; therefore you can be free of the past. You no longer need be a Christian, a Buddhist, a Hindu, with all the conditioning that goes with it; you can immediately transform yourself. Sirs, don't you know that with one stroke you can cut away envy? Haven't you ever tried to break antagonism on the spot? I know it is very comforting to sit back and say "Well, it is karma that has made me antagonistic to you". It gives a great sense of satisfaction to say that, the pleasure of continuing hate. But if you perceive the whole significance of karma, then you will see that the chain of cause-becoming-effect-becoming-cause can be snapped. Therefore the mind can be astonishingly and vitally free from the past in the immediate. But that requires hard work; it requires a great deal of attention, a great deal of inquiry, penetration, self-knowledge. And most of us are indolent, we are so easily satisfied by a belief in karma. Good God! What does it matter whether you believe or not believe? It is what you are now that matters, not what you did in the past and the effects of that in the present. And what are you now? You should know that better than I do. What you are now is obviously the result of the past, the result of innumerble influences, compulsions, the result of food, climate, contact with the West, and so on. Under the pressure of all that, the mind becomes lazy, indolent, easily satisfied by words. Such a mind may talk about truth, God, it may believe in nirvana, and all the rest of it; but that belief has no value at all, any more than has the Communist, the of Catholic, or any other belief. The mind can be transformed only hen it understands the whole process when it understands the whole process of itself, and the motives, the causations of that process. In that understanding there are immense possibilities for the mind, because it opens the door to an astonishing creativity, which is not the writing of a few poems, or the putting of some colours on a canvas, but that state which is reality, God, truth. And for that you need have no ideals. On the contrary, ideals prevent immediate understanding. We are fed on illusions, on things that have no value, and we easily succumb to authority, to religious as` well as political tyranny; and how can such a mind discover that which is eternal, that which is beyond the projections of itself? I say it is possible to break this continuity of karma, but only when you understand the operations of karma, which is not static, predetermined, but a living, moving thing; and in breaking itself away from the past, the mind will know what truth or God is. January 23, 1957. COLOMBO 5TH PUBLIC TALK 27TH JANUARY 1957 As I have been pointing out during these talks here, it is surely very important, especially when the world is in such a grave crisis, that we should understand the true significance of religion; because religion, it seems is the only basic solution to all the problems of our existence. I do not mean the religions of dogma, of organized belief, which only condition the mind. To me, they are not religion at all. They are like any other propagandistic organization which merely shapes the mind according to a particular pattern of thinking. To inquire into the whole question of what is true religion, one must first understand what behaviour is. To me, behaviour is righteousness. But most of us spend our energy and our thought in arguing over what kind of belief we should hold concerning reincarnation and the various other problems involved in religion; we do not start with the fundamental issue. The foundation of right inquiry is surely behaviour, which is righteousness; and righteousness is not merely the cultivation of virtue. A man who cultivates virtue ceases to be virtuous; a man who practises humility is no longer humble. The cultivation of humility is arrogance. Similarly, cultivated virtue only leads to respectability. We must have virtue, because virtue is essential to all real inquiry, but not the cultivated virtue which is a self-centred activity. What is important is to meet the whole movement of that virtue which is not self-centred and which, if we pursue it deeply, not only at the conscious but also at the unconscious level, does lead to that which is beyond the measure of the mind. This is true religious inquiry, and I think it is very important to understand it. Most of us are involved in some form of organized belief, such as Buddhism, Hinduism, Christianity, Communism, and so on; and when we are caught in the net of these organizations, whether political or so-called spiritual, we are more concerned, are we not?, with what we believe than with how we live our life. What matters, surely, is not to find out what is the ideal way of living, but rather to discover for ourselves the pattern of behaviour in which the mind is caught and to see the true significance of such behaviour. Righteousness has nothing whatever to do with organized conduct; because organized conduct, which is social morality, has produced this great confusion and chaos in the world. Society accepts envy, greed, ambition, cruelty, the ruthless pursuit of one's own fulfilment; it admits and justifies the possibility of killing on a large scale. The soldier who kills more than the others in battle is a hero in the eyes of society; and when a society professing a particular religion sanctions killing on a vast and inhuman scale, then obviously the religion which it professes has failed. To understand righteousness it is necessary to step out of the pattern of society. By society I do not mean the organized means of communication, of supplying food, clothing, shelter, and so on, but the whole psychological or moral issue which is involved in society. A person who seeks to inquire into what is true religion obviously cannot belong to a society which accepts greed, envy, the pursuit of personal ambition, the search for power, fame, and all the rest of it. To belong to a society based on cruelty and the pursuits of self-interest, and still be religious, is obviously impossible. Yet organized religions throughout the world. have condoned such a society. Organized religions do not insist that you step out of greed, envy, ruthlessness. They are far more concerned with what you believe, with ritual, organization, property, and all the rest of the confusion, paraphernalia and rigmarole that exist in and around every organized religion. So a man who would inquire into what is true religion must lay the foundation of righteousness by being without envy, without ambition, without the greed for power. This is an actual possibility, I am not being idealistic. Ideals and actuality are incompatible. A man who pursues the ideal of non-violence is indulging in violence. He is concerned, not with ceasing to be violent, but with ultimately arriving at a state which he calls non-violence. Being violent, the mind has an ideal of non-violence which is over there in the distance; it will take time to achieve that state, and in the meantime the mind can continue to be violent. Such a mind is not concerned with getting rid of violence, but with slowly trying to become non-violent. The two states are entirely different, and I think it is very important to understand this fact. The ending of a quality such as violence or greed is not a matter of time, and it does not come about through ideals; it has to be done immediately, not through time. We get caught up in the gradualism of ideals when we are concerned with time. Please do not jump to conclusions or say "Without ideals I shall be lost", but rather listen to what is being said. I know all the arguments, all the justifications of ideals. Just listen, if you kindly will, without a conclusion, and try to understand what the speaker is talking about; do not block your understanding by saying "I must have ideals". Ideals have existed for centuries. Various religious teachers have talked of ideals, but they may all be wrong and probably are. To adhere to an ideal is obviously to postpone freeing the mind from violence, greed, envy, ambition and the desire for power. If one is concerned, as one should be, with righteousness, which is the foundation upon which rests all true inquiry into what religion is, then one must investigate the possibility of ridding the mind of violence, of greed, of envy, of acquisitiveness, not at some time in the distant future, but now. It is entirely possible for the mind to be free immediately of these and all the related qualities that society has imposed on us - or rather, that we have cultivated in our relationship with each other which is society. Righteousness or behaviour is not something to be gained, to be arrived at, but it must be understood from moment to moment in the actuality of daily living. That is why it is important to have self-knowledge, to know how you think, how you feel, how you act, how you respond to another. All that indicates the manner of your approach to life, and therein lies the foundation of righteousness, not in some Utopia, ideal or organized belief. The actual foundation must be laid in our daily living. But most of us are not concerned with that; we are concerned with the label which we call religion. If you and I as individuals really put our minds to this, we shall see that change does not come about through ideals, through time, through pressure and convenience, or through any form of political activity, but only through being deeply concerned with bringing about a radical transformation in ourselves. Then we shall discover that it is possible to free the mind from violence, greed, and all the rest of it, not in time, but outside of time; because virtue or righteousness is not an end in itself. If virtue is an end in itself it becomes a self-centred activity leading to mere respectability; and a mind that is merely respectable is imitative, it conforms to a pattern and is therefore not free. Virtue is merely a matter of putting the mind in order, like putting a house in order, and nothing more than that. When the mind is in order, when it has clarity and is without confusion, with conflict, then it is possible to go further. But for a man who is seeking power who is burning inwardly with ambition, greed, envy, cruelty, and all the rest of it - for such a man to talk about religion and God, is arrant nonsense, it has no meaning. His God is only the God of respectability. That is why it is important to lay the foundation of righteousness, which is to step out of the present society. Stepping out of society does not mean becoming a hermit, a monk, or a sannyasi, but being without greed, without envy, without violence, without the desire for position and power. The moment you are without those things you are out of time, out of the society which is made up of them. So the real revolution is religious, it is this stepping out of the present society, not remaining within the field of society and trying to modify it. Most revolutions are concerned with the modification of society, but to me that is not revolution at all; it is merely the perpetuation of the past in another form. The religious revolution is the only revolution, which is individually to step out of this complex society based on envy, greed, power, anger, violence and brutality in the relationship between human beings. It is only when the mind is free from violence, and from all this business of trying to cultivate virtue, that it is capable of inquiring into what is truth, what is God - if there is God. It does not assume anything. When the mind is capable of such inquiry, that inquiry is devotion. Devotion is not attachment to some idol, to some picture, person, or symbol. But when the mind has freed itself from envy and greed, when it has put its own house in order, which is virtue, and is therefore capable of inquiring to find out what is true and whether there is something beyond the measure of the mind - then that inquiry, that perseverance is true devotion, without which there is irreverence and disrespect. So the man who would be religious cannot belong to any organized belief, which only conditions the mind, but must be concerned with behaviour, which is righteousness - his own behaviour, not that of others. Most of us are so eager to reform others and so little concerned with the transformation of ourselves. What matters is not how others behave, your friend, your wife, or your husband, but how you behave. If you consider this matter really seriously, you will find that education comes to have quite a different significance. What we call education now is merely a process of being trained to earn a livelihood as a lawyer, a doctor, a soldier, a businessman, a scientist, or what you will, and that is all most of us are concerned with. Such education is obviously very superficial, and so our lives are equally superficial. But if we understand this inquiry into what is true religion, into what is reality, God, then we shall help the children, the coming generation, to grow in freedom so that they do not become machines in the routine of an office, or mere bread- winners, but are able to throw off the tyranny of organized belief, the tyranny of governments, and thereby to reshape the world. Then the whole structure, not only of our education, but of our culture, of our behaviour, of our relationship, will be entirely different. Again, this is not an ideal, a thing to be vaguely hoped for in the future. So it seems to me very important that those of us who are serious - and I hope there are some who are serious - should be concerned with the understanding of ourselves. This is not a self-centred activity. It becomes a self-centred activity only when you are concerned with the understanding of yourself in order to arrive somewhere: in order to achieve freedom, to find God, not to be jealous, and so on. If you are concerned with God, or with sex, or with the attainment of power, your mind is occupied; and an occupied mind is obviously self-centred, though it may be occupied with God. You have to understand the whole process of self-knowledge, that is, you have to know yourself; and you cannot know yourself if you are not aware, observant, conscious of your words, of your gestures, of your manner of speech in relationship with another. To be aware in your relationship with another is to observe the way you talk to women, the way you talk to your wife, to your children, to the bus conductor, to the policeman; it is to see how respectful you are to the governor, and how contemptuous you are of the servant. To be aware is to be conscious of the operation of your own mind; but you cannot be aware if you condemn what you discover. You will find that out of this self-knowledge comes a well-ordered mind, - which is being virtuous, not becoming virtuous. Such a mind is capable of stillness because it is no longer in contradiction with itself, it is no longer driven or driven by desire. To be still requires a great deal of energy, and energy is depleted when the mind is self-contradictory, when it is not aware of its own operation, which means there is no self-knowledge. There is the depletion of energy as long as desire pulls in different directions; but such depletion of energy ceases when there is total self-knowledge. Then you will find that the mind, being full of energy, is capable of being completely still; and a still mind can receive that which is eternal. Many questions have been sent in - questions about sex, about organized belief, about what kind of education the serious parent should give to his children, and so on. It is obviously impossible to answer all of them, because each question is very complex and cannot just be answered `yes' or `no'. Life has no `yes' or `no' answers. However, during these talks, representative questions have been dealt with, and if you care to go into what has already been said, I think you will find the answer to your particular question. Books have been printed, and you may be interested in them - or you may not. That is your affair. But if you have sufficiently paid attention to what has been said, I think you will answer your questions for yourself. To find the right solution to a problem, no effort is required. Effort denies the understanding of the problem. Whereas, if you are really serious about inquiring into the problem, then you will find that the problem resolves itself. Question: Religions have prescribed certain practices in meditation for ones spiritual growth. What practice do you advocate? Can right meditation be helpful in one's daily life? Krishnamurti: Meditation is a very complex and serious problem, and I shall go into it step by step. With out meditation, life is merely a matter of environment, of circumstances, of pressures and influences, and therefore has very little significance. Without meditation, there is no perfume to life. Without meditation, there is no compassion, no love, and life is then merely a thing of sensation. And without meditation, the mind is not capable of finding out what is true. Before we ask how to meditate, or what meditation is? And the very inquiry into what is meditation, is meditation. Please listen to what I am saying, if you will, because this is very important. As I said, a mind that is incapable of meditation, is incapable of understanding life. It is because we do not know what meditation is that our life is so stupid, superficial, made up of mere achievements, failures, successes, misery. So, to find out what is meditation, is meditation; and this evening you and I are going to inquire into it together. To ask how to meditate when you do not know what meditation is, is too immature. How can you practise what you do not know? The books, the priests, the teachers will tell you what meditation is -and they may all be mistaken, because they are all interpre- ters. An interpreter is a traitor. Please listen, sirs, don't laugh it off. An interpreter is a traitor because he is interpreting according to his conditioning. Truth does not want any interpretation. There can be no interpreter of what is true, because it is you who have to find out what is true. We are now going to find out together the truth about meditation; but if you do not follow step by step, giving your whole attention to it, you will not understand what meditation is. I am not saying this dogmatically, but you will have to see the truth of it for yourself. Prayer which is a supplication, a petition, either conscious or unconscious, is not meditation, even though such prayer may be answered. The mechanism by which prayer is answered is something which we won't go into now, because it is too complex and would require another half-hour to explain. But you can see that prayer which is a supplication, a petition, a demand, a begging, is not meditation because you are asking something for yourself or for somebody else. Then you will find also that the process of controlling the mind is not meditation. Please listen to this, don't throw it out and say "What nonsense!" We are inquiring. Now, what is the way of concentration in so-called meditation? You try to fix your mind on an idea, on a thought, on a sentence, on a picture or an idol made by the hand or by the mind, but other thoughts constantly creep in. You spend your time fighting them off, till after years of practice in controlling the mine you are able to suppress all ideas except one, and you think you have achieved something. What you have achieved is the technique of suppressing, sublimating, or substituting one idea for another, one desire for another; but in that process is involved conflict; there is a division between the maker of effort and the object he hopes to achieve through effort. This effort to control the mind in order to achieve a result - peace, bliss, nirvana, or whatever it be - is self-centred activity, and nothing more; therefore it is not meditation. This does not mean that in meditation the mind is allowed to wander as it likes. Let us go into this slowly. We see the truth that a mind which is merely concerned with control, with discipline, with suppressing its own thoughts, is making itself narrow; it is an exclusive mind, and such a mind is incapable of understanding what is meditation. A mind that suppresses part of itself and concentrates on the idea of peace, on an image made by the hand or by the mind, is obviously afraid of its own desires, its own ambitions, its own feelings of envy, greed, and so on, and in suppressing them, such a mind is not meditating; though it may repeat a thousand mantrams, or sit silent and alone in some dark forest or mountain cave, it is incapable of understanding meditation. So, having discovered that control is not meditation, you begin to ask yourself what are these jumbling thoughts that precipitate themselves one on top of another, that wander all over the place like monkeys, or flutter after each other like butterflies. There is now no question of controlling them, because or you see that you are the various thoughts and contradictory desires which are endlessly pursuing each other. These thoughts, these contradictions, these desires are part of you; you are not different from them, any more than the qualities of the diamond are different from the diamond itself. Remove the qualities of the diamond, and there is no diamond; remove the qualities, the thoughts of the mind, and there is no mind. So meditation is obviously not a matter of control. But if you do not control your thoughts, then what? Then you begin to inquire into your thoughts. Do you understand, sirs? The mind is no longer suppressing thought, but inquiring into the motive, the background of its thought; and you will find that this inquiry into its own thought has an extraordinary effect on the mind. Then the mind ceases to manufacture thought. Please do understand this. When you begin to inquire into the whole process of thinking without suppressing, condemning, or justifying anything, without trying to concentrate on one thought by excluding all other thoughts, then you will find that the mind is no longer manufacturing thought. Please do listen. The mind manufactures thought through sensation, through memory, through the object which it wants to achieve; but the moment it begins to inquire into the process of thinking, it ceases to produce thought, because then the mind is beginning to free itself from that whole process. In this free movement of the mind as it inquires into its own pursuits and sorrows, the mind begins to understand itself, and that understanding comes from self-knowledge. So you have seen that prayer - which involves conditioning, demand, petition, fear, and so on - is not meditation. Nor is there meditation when one part of the mind which you call the lower self, is dominated by another part of the mind which you call the higher self, or the Atman. This contradiction in the mind is caused by the fact that one desire is controlling another, and that is obviously not meditation. Nor is it meditation to sit in front of a picture and repeat japams, mantrams. What happens when you sit quietly and repeat certain phrases? Your mind becomes hypnotized, does it not? Your mind gradually goes to sleep, and you think that you have attained bliss, a marvellous peace. It is only in your daily life that you can find out what meditation is, not in the repetition of certain words and phrases. Now, if praying, chanting, sitting in front of a picture, controlling thought, is not meditation, then what is meditation? The mind has moved away from the false, because it has seen the truth in the false. Do you understand, sirs? The mind has seen the truth that control is false, and this truth has liberated it from the desire to control. Therefore the mind is free to inquire into the process of thinking, which leads to self-knowledge. That is, the mind begins to understand itself when it is just watching its own operation without condemnation, judgment, or evaluation; and then you will find that the mind becomes very quiet, it is not made quiet. Generally you try to make the mind quiet; all your religious books, your priests, tell you to train the mind to be quiet, to practise quietness. The mind that has practised quietness, that has trained itself to be still is like a monkey that has learnt a trick. You cannot have stillness through desire. You have to understand desire, not escape from or suppress it. Because desire is always contradictory, you have to understand it; and in the process of understanding desire, you will find that the mind becomes completely still the totality of the mind, not just the superficial layer which is occupied with your daily living. Do you understand, sirs? To have ambition, envy, greed; the desire for power, and yet talk about meditation, is to be in a state of illusion. These two are incompatible, they don't go together. It is only when there is self-knowledge, which is to have an understanding of your daily living, your daily relationships, that the mind becomes quiet without being forced or disciplined to be quiet. Then you will find that the mind is completely still - the totality of it, the unconscious as well as the conscious. The unconscious, which is the sum total of all your traditions, your memories, your motives, your ambitions, your greed, is far more conservative than the conscious mind, far more effective in its desires and pursuits; and it can be understood only through self-knowledge. When through self-knowledge the mind is completely still, in that stillness you will find there is no experiencer to experience, because the experiencer and the experienced are the same. To realize this requires a great deal of attention, inquiry, discovery. The observer and the observed, the watcher and the watched are one, they are not two separate entities. The thinker is not different from the thought, the two are essentially the same, though for various reasons - convenience, security, permanency, and so on - thought has made the thinker separate and permanent. So, if you have followed this inquiry into what is meditation, and have understood the whole process of thinking, you will find that the mind is completely still. In that total stillness of the mind, there is no watcher, no observer, and therefore no experiencer at all; there is no entity who is gathering experience, which is the activity of a self-centred mind. Don't say "That is samadhi" - which is all nonsense, because you have only read of it in some book and have not discovered it for yourself. There is a vast difference between the word and the thing. The word is not the thing; the word `door' is not the door. So, to meditate is to purge the mind of its self-centred activity. And if you have come this far in meditation, you will find there is silence, a total emptiness. The mind is uncontaminated by society, it is no longer subject to any influence, to the pressure of any desire. It is completely alone; and being alone, untouched, it is innocent. Therefore there is a possibility for that which is timeless, eternal, to come into being. This whole process is meditation. January 27, 1957. BOMBAY 1ST PUBLIC TALK 6TH FEBRUARY 1957 There is a great deal of difference between learning and being taught, and it seems to me that it is very important to understand the distinction between the two. To learn there must be great humility, for learning is a very arduous process, and the mind is disinclined to learn. Most of us are merely taught, and the man who is merely taught is incapable of learning. In learning, which is a constant process, there is not the division of the teacher and the taught, the guru and the disciple; there is only learning. There is no learning when the mind is waiting to be taught and merely accumulates knowledge as memory. In the process of being taught, which requires no effort and is only the cultivation of memory, there is the teacher and the disciple, the one who knows and the one who does not know; and that distinction is maintained throughout life. I think it would be wise if we both understood from the very beginning the falseness of that distinction, and established between us the true relationship in which there is neither the teacher nor the taught, but only learning; and to learn we need great humility. A man who says, "I know", actually does not know. He knows only that which is past, that which is dead. But for the man who is learning every day, and not merely accumulating knowledge, there is neither the teacher nor the taught; there is only the understanding of reality from moment to moment. So, you and I should understand that we are taking a journey together, a journey on which to look, to listen and to learn; for if we understand that, we shall be able to learn from everything around us, and not just from a particular book, teacher or religion. The whole process of living is religion, as we shall discover for ourselves if we really begin to understand what it means to learn. But it is very difficult for most of us to comprehend this, because most of us want to be taught, for then we have no responsibility, no struggle: you know and I do not know, you teach me and I merely accept. In being taught there is a sense of security, there is no investigation, no inquiry, no search; and it would be a mistake if you listened to these talks with the attitude that you are being taught by me, or that I am going to reveal something miraculous or extraordinary. But if both of us with real humility begin to understand the whole process of living, then in that very understanding there is the miracle of change. After all, that is what we must be concerned with, is it not? We must be concerned with this one question: how to bring about a radical change within ourselves that will affect not only our social relationships, but also our thought, our emotions, our creative expression and our daily living. If a radical change does not take place within the individual, surely any reform from the outside will merely force him to adjust to the new pattern, and is therefore no change at all. A change brought about through compulsion, through influence, through sociological pressure, through various forms of legislation, is not a real change, but merely a modified continuity of what has been. Change within the field of time is no change - time being the process of thought, of compulsion, of imitation, of gradual adjustment. Now, is there a fundamental change which is not brought about by any pressure, by any conformity to an ideological pattern? Is there a change which is totally from within and not the result of any pressure from outside? We do change superficially through various forms of compulsion, through reward and punishment, through external pressure, through being influenced by the books we read, and so on; but it seems to me that such change takes place only on the surface, which is no real change at all. Yet that is what most of us are doing with our life. The conscious mind adjusts to a new social, economic, or legislative pattern, but that does not transform the individual fundamentally. So, if we are at all serious, the question must inevitably arise: is it possible for the individual to change radically so that he approaches life, not partially, fragmentarily, but as a whole entity, a total human being? Most of us react to reward and punishment, to some form of compulsion, and that is what we call action in our daily life. If you observe you will see that your action, religiously and in other ways, is partial, fragmentary, it is not the total action of your whole being. And it seems to me imperative, in the present crisis of the world, that each one of us should find out for himself if it is possible to act, not in mere conformity to patterns, whether ideological, governmental, or self-imposed, but as a total human being, with all one's body, mind and heart. Is it possible to act in such a complete manner? Fundamentally, I think that is the only problem that confronts man. We see what is happening in the world; we see the tyranny, the appalling cruelty that is going on, the various miseries that we all go through, the compulsions, the uniformity of thinking as a nationalist, a socialist, an imperialist, or whatever it be. In this process there is no total action on the part of the individual, no action in which his mind and heart are one, his whole being completely integrated. And it seems to me, if we are at all serious and thoughtful, that it must be our chief concern to bring about this total action on the part of the individual; because as long as our action is merely fragmentary, either of the mind alone, or of the feelings alone, or merely of the senses, such action must be contradictory and will invariably create confusion. Now, is there a desire, a longing, a wish, a will, that can act as a total being? Or is desire always contradictory? And is it possible for the mind to understand the totality of itself, the conscious as well as the unconscious, and act, not partially or fragmentarily, but as an integrated human being without self-contradiction? To me such action is the only righteous action, because all other forms of action must create conflict both within and without. So, how is this change to be brought about? How is the mind to act as a total entity, undivided within itself? I do not know if you have ever thought about this problem at all. If you have, you probably think that the mind's contradictory desires can be harmonized, and that this harmony comes through effort, through ideological pursuits and various forms of discipline. But is it possible to harmonize contradictory desires, as most of us are trying to do? I am violent, and I want to be nonviolent; I want to be an artist in the true sense of the word, and yet the whole tendency of my mind is that of ambition, of greed and envy, which prevents this creative effort. So there is always a contradiction going on within ourselves. These conflicting desires do produce certain activities, but they also are contradictory in themselves, as we can see every day of our life. And is it possible for the mind to come to that understanding of the totality of itself in which action is no longer a matter of imitation, of compulsion, of fear, or the desire for reward? You see, it is incredibly difficult to communicate in words something which we all feel: that there must be an action which is not put together by the mind, an action which is not the result of fragmentary thinking, an action which is the response of our whole being. We feel this, but we do not know how to get at it. We may turn to religion, hoping to find an action which will not be contradictory, which will be complete; but religion for most of us is rather vague and superficial, it is a matter of belief and has no validity in our daily life. We pay lip service to what we call religion, but it is without fundamental significance and merely becomes another factor of contradiction in our life. We think we ought to love, but we do not. We want to seek God, and at the same time we are caught up in worldly pursuits, so we are torn between the two. Yet it seems to me that the real understanding of what religion is, is the only solution to all our problems. What matters, surely, is that each one of us should directly experience reality; and in the very process of experiencing reality, there is an action of reality. It is not a question of experiencing truth and then acting, but rather there is an action of truth in the very process of experiencing and understanding truth. Then it is the truth that acts, not the person who understands the truth. That is why it is very important to understand what it means to learn. Can I learn anything if I start from a conclusion, if I already have a definition of what God is, what truth is, or what religion is? To start thinking from a conclusion, surely, is not to think at all; it prevents the mind from going further. To start thinking from a conclusion is vanity, which means there is no humility. When there is humility the mind says, "I do not know; therefore it is willing to learn, to inquire, to suffer, to find out. But most of us do not want to do that; we want to be told, because in being told there is a sense of safety, security, and that is all we seek. We want to be made secure, comfortable, and such a mind is obviously incapable of learning. Truth cannot be taught, you have to discover it for yourself; and you cannot possibly discover it if you start with the assumption that there is truth or no truth, that there is God or no God. You can find out whether there is truth or not only if you begin to learn, if you begin to search, if you begin to inquire; and there is no inquiry when you start with a conclusion, with an assumption. If you watch your own mind you will see how extraordinarily difficult it is to be free of conclusions. After all, what you know is a series of conclusions made up of what you have been taught, what you have learnt from books, or what you have found in your own reactions, and you start to think, to build the house of thought on that foundation. But surely a mind that wants to find out what truth or God is must start without any assumption, without any conclusion, so that it is free to inquire. And if you observe your own mind you will see that it is not free. It is full of conclusions, burdened with the knowledge of many thousands of yesterdays; it thinks in terms of what the Gita says, or what the Bible or the Koran says, or what some teacher has said, and it begins by assuming that to be the truth; and if it already knows what truth is, obviously it need not seek truth. I think it is very important to see the significance of this. The people of this country are under pressure from the West. The dynamic scientific revolt that is going on in Europe and America is influencing your thinking here and changing the ways of your life, but only superficially. You are merely conforming to a new pattern, a new way of living; so you are going to have extraordinary contradictions within yourselves, great suffering, till you understand individually how to think out all the problems anew. To think anew, each one of us must start as though he knew nothing; he must begin to inquire, and that requires great humility. But humility is not to be cultivated, because the moment you cultivate it, it is no longer humility; it is a form of arrogance. Whereas, if you begin to learn about yourself, to be aware of your contradictions, to observe your own thoughts and feelings without condemnation or approval - which is to start without any assumption - , then you will find that through self-knowledge there comes an action which is not fragmentary, which is total. Such a man is the truly religious human being not he who goes to the temple and quotes the Gita. The religious man is one who is on a journey of self-discovery. You cannot know yourself if you start with the assumption that you are this or that; and it is extraordinarily difficult to be free of assumptions, because tradition through centuries has imprinted certain ideas on the mind. An old tradition may be broken and wiped away, and a new tradition, a new set of ideas implanted; but action from any assumption, either old or new, must create a contradiction in our life, and such a contradiction invariably produces sorrow both within and without. To see all this, surely you must ask yourself if there is a way of living which is the action of your whole being. At present you do not know what your whole being is, because you are broken up, divided, and your action is fragmentary; but when you realize that you are broken up, that your action is divided, fragmentary, when you are fully aware of this conflict, then you will discover for yourself that beyond it there is love, a state of mind which is whole, not fragmentary, a state of mind which is not put together by desire, which is not the result of discipline, of conformity, pressure. This discovery is the real source of action independent of your fragmentary wants and purposes, and that is why it is very important to understand yourself, to know your own contradictory nature without trying to force what you are to fit the pattern of a certain ideal or ideology. And I assure you, there is a great joy in knowing yourself, in seeing all that you are, both the ugly and the beautiful, the insensitivity as well as the extreme sensitivity of the mind. Out of that full awareness there comes a mind which knows total action and it is only such a mind that can create a new relationship, a new world. At each of these meetings there will be questions and answers -or rather, there will be questions, but I am afraid there will be no answers. Life has no answer. Life is to be lived, it is not a thing to be concluded. Most of us seek an answer, a conclusion, something which the mind can cling to; and when it is found, it sets the pattern for the rest of our life. We put a question in order to find an answer; but there is no answer, and if we can really understand that, then questions become extraordinarily significant, full of meaning, because then the mind is concerned with the problem itself and not with the answer, which means that we have to give our complete attention to the problem. At present you approach your problem, whatever it be, with the desire to find an answer, a solution, or you try to make the problem conform to what you think is the right answer; so your problem remains and multiplies. Whereas, if you see that an answer offers no way out of the problem, but only increases it, then your desire to find an answer will drop away and you will give your whole mind to the problem - and that is the beauty, the challenge of a problem. When you suffer inwardly, not physically but psychologically, your immediate reaction is to seek an answer: you want to know why you suffer, and you say it is karma, or you accept some other explanation, which only smothers the problem. The problem of suffering is still there. What is important is to begin to inquire into the problem itself, which means that you cannot cling to any hypothesis, to any conclusion, to any hope. Then sorrow has an extraordinary meaning, the problem has vitality. So, if I may, I am going to discuss the question with you. We are going to take a journey into the problem together, and if you don't pay attention to the problem, you will not understand what I am talking about. But if you really begin to inquire into the problem, then you will find that you have an extraordinary vitality to pursue it to the end. Most of us have no vitality except that of routine - going to the office, living according to established habits, repeating a particular set of words, and so on, all of which has a certain vitality. But I am talking of a different kind of vitality, that tremendous energy which arises when you are confronted with a problem that demands your whole attention. I do not know if you have ever given your whole attention to something. I doubt it, because complete attention is an astonishing thing. To give complete attention to a flower, to a bird, to a tree, to a child, to somebody's face, means that there must be no naming of the thing. When you look at a flower and say, "It is a rose, how beautiful it is", your attention has already wandered. To give your complete attention to something, there can be no verbalization, no communication, no describing it to another; you must be completely with it. In the same way, if you can give complete attention to a problem, whatever it may be, you will find that there is not only the resolution of that particular problem, but that you have the capacity to deal with every problem, and therefore there is no fear. It is fear that dissipates energy and destroys complete attention. So, if we can together go into these questions with complete attention, then we shall find that they have extraordinary significance; but if you merely rely on my description and do not observe your own reactions to what is being said, you will have no vitality to discover the truth of the problem. So please follow the problem for yourself. Do not wait for me to take the journey and then come back and tell you what that journey should mean to you, but let us take the journey together. Question: All religions teach the need of curbing the senses. Are the senses a hindrance to the discovery of truth? Krishnamurti: Let us find out the truth of the matter and not rely on what the various teachers and books have said, or on what your local guru has implanted in your mind. We know the extraordinary sensitivity of the senses - the sense of touch, of hearing, of seeing, tasting and smelling. To see a flower completely, to be aware of its colour, of its delicate perfume and beauty, you have to have senses. It is when you see a beautiful man or woman, or a fine car, that the trouble begins, for then desire comes in. Let us go slowly. You see a beautiful car. There is perception or seeing, sensation, contact and finally desire. That is how desire comes into being. Then desire says, "It would be marvellous to own that car, I must have it", so you spend your life and energy in getting money to buy the car. But religion says, "It is very bad, it is evil to be worldly. Your senses will lead you astray, so you must subjugate, control them. Don't look at a woman, or don't look at a man; discipline yourself, sublimate your desire". So you begin to curb your senses, which is the cultivation of insensitivity. Or seeing around you the ugliness, the dirt, all the squalor and misery, you shut it out and say, "That is evil; I must find God, truth". On the one hand you are suppressing, making the senses insensitive, and on the other you are trying to become sensitive to God; so your whole being is becoming insensitive. Do you understand, sirs? If you suppress desire in any form your mind is obviously made insensitive, though you may be seeking God. So the problem is to understand desire and not to be a slave to it, which means being totally sensitive with your body, with your mind and heart: sensitive to beauty and to ugliness, to the sky, to the flowers, to birds on the wing, to the sunset on the water, to the faces around you, to hypocrisy, and to the falseness of your own illusions. To be sensitive to all that is what matters, and not merely to cultivate sensitivity towards truth and beauty while denying everything else. The very denial of everything else brings about insensitivity. If you consider it you will see that to suppress the senses, to make them insensitive to that which is tempestuous, contradictory, conflicting, sorrowful, as all the swamis, yogis and religions insist, is to deny the whole depth and beauty and glory of existence. To understand the truth you must have complete sensitivity. Do you understand, sirs? Reality demands your whole being; you must come to it with your body, mind and heart, as a total human being, not with a mind paralysed and made insensitive through discipline. Then you will find that you need not be frightened of the senses, because you will know how to deal with them and they will not lead you astray. You will understand the senses, love them, see their whole significance, and then you will no longer torture yourself with suppression, control. Don't you see that, sirs? Love is not divine love, or married love, or brotherly love - you know all the labels. Love is just love, without giving it a meaning of your own. When you love a flower with your whole being which is not just to say "How beautiful" and walk by; or when you love a human being completely, with all your mind, heart and body, then you will find there is no desire in it, and therefore no conflict, no contradiction. It is desire that creates contradiction, misery, the conflict between what is and what should be, the ideal. The man who has suppressed his senses and made himself insensitive does not know what love is; therefore, though he meditate for the next ten thousand years, he will not find God. It is only when your whole being is made sensitive to everything - to the depth of your feelings, to all the extraordinary intricacies of your mind - and not just to what you call God, that desire ceases to be contradictory. Then there is an altogether different process taking place, which is not the process of desire. Love is its own eternity, and it has its own action. Question: When you talk of freedom from the past, do you mean that an individual's past with all its experiences, memories, sorrows and joys, can be wiped away totally? Can the mind then have an existence without the past? Krishnamurti: This is really a very complex question and I hope you will pay attention to it. To pay attention is not merely to hear my words or my description, but as you are sitting and listening, actually to be aware of your own mind - the mind that is thinking, struggling, reacting, that is looking over there and over here. Just watch that mind, and you will find the answer for yourself. Now, can the mind wipe away the past, the thousand yesterdays? That is what is involved in this question. The yesterdays of pleasure and pain, of recognition or fame, the things you have learnt, and the things that you hope to do tomorrow, the qualities that you have gathered through many years and which are consciously as well as unconsciously urging you to think in a certain direction - all that is the past, with its extraordinary vitality. The past is not only the content of the conscious mind, which has learnt the technique of modern living and acquired a specialized capacity by which to earn a livelihood; the past is also made up of the things that lie hidden in the unconscious, the motives of which you are not aware, the impressions of what the centuries have told you and of what your ancestors have left behind. All that is the past. Now the question is, can the mind free itself from all this, disentangle itself from the total content of the past? Don't translate it into karma. I am purposely not using that word, because you have certain reactions to it which would cause you easily to step by and so miss the significance of this question. The mind is the conscious as well as the unconscious. The conscious has the capacity to adjust itself to the present environment. The unconscious, on the other hand, is the residue of many yesterdays; it is conservative, heavy to move, it does not want to conform to the modern, to the immediate. All that is the past. And the questioner asks: Can the mind free itself from the past? What is the mind? Surely, the mind is made up, put together by the past, that is, by time. Please listen to this and you will see how simple it is. The mind is the result of time, time being memory, knowledge, the experience of many yesterdays. All that is the past; and why do you want to be free of it? Why does your mind say, "I must be free of the past"? Do you understand, sirs? Are you making this into an artificial problem for yourself because I have said that the mind must be free of the past? Or do you say, "Life is something new to be lived, to be completely fathomed every minute, and I cannot do that if I meet life with my prejudices, with my nationalism, with my gods, with my dogmas and beliefs, that is, if I come to it with my past"? Surely there is a difference, is there not? Does the problem arise because of me, or because you want to understand life for yourself? So, is it possible for the mind to free itself from the past? Is it possible for the mind to have no causation of any kind, no motive, no thought which is the result of the past? Please, sirs, listen to this with the same intensity that you would feel in seeking a new job if you had lost your present one. Is it possible for the mind to be without a causation, without a motive, without the past? You don't know the answer. Some say "yes" and others say "no", but leave those people aside. They have no direct experience, it is merely an assumption. You will have to find out for yourself. Now, how are you going to find out? Do you understand the problem? The problem is this. Your mind is the result of time, of tradition, of memory, it is the result of what it has been taught as a Hindu, a Christian, or what you will; and is it possible for such a mind to be without this background, without this immense pressure of the past? If the mind is not capable of being without the dead weight of the past, it can never be free. You may talk about freedom, you may talk about God, but it has no meaning at all till the mind can free itself from the past. So you have to find out for yourself what thinking is. Do you understand? If you do not know what thinking is, you will not know what the past is. Surely, all your thinking is the result of the past. You think as a Hindu, as a Christian, as a Communist, as this or that, because you have been trained to think in those terms. So the problem is, can the mind see and free itself from all thinking which is based on the past? Can it be completely still, without any movement of thought? Now, don't close your eyes and go into a trance, thinking you are meditating, for you will only be hypnotizing yourself. Just see that all thinking is based on a cause, it is the reaction of a particular background, and put this question to yourself: can the mind exist without thinking, or is it the very nature of the mind to think? Do you understand, sirs? You have to find out. It is no use my telling you. You have to find out for yourself whether it is possible for the mind to be without thought. And you can find that out only if you understand the whole process of thinking, which means that you must know what thinking is. Very simply, what we call thinking is the reaction of memory. Memory is the cause and thinking is the effect. And is it possible for a mind which is always thinking, thinking, thinking, going round and round in circles, worrying, wanting, suppressing itself, being envious, greedy, and all that - is it possible for such a mind to bring that whole pattern to an end? That is, can the experiencer cease to experience? Again, you will find out only if you begin to inquire seriously into the whole process of thinking, of memory; and if you pay attention to your memories, to the operation of your own mind, it is really extraordinarily simple. Then, in spite of all the books, in spite of all the people who say it is possible or impossible, you will find out for yourself that the mind can be totally free from the past - which does not mean that you don't recognize the past, or that you forget your address. That would be silly, it would be a state of amnesia. But you will find that it is possible for the mind to be totally empty; and you will also find that a mind which is totally empty is the really creative mind, not the mind which is cluttered up with memory, because being empty, it is always capable of receiving that which is truth. It is like a cup, which is useful only when it is empty. A mind that is full of memory, that is burdened with associations, knowledge, can never understand what truth is. So you must begin to understand the whole process of the past, and you can do that only by pursuing it, by being aware of it every day in whatever you are doing. Then you will find that there is a state of mind totally dissociated from the past, and in that totality of dissociation from the past you will know that which is eternal. February 6, 1957 BOMBAY 2ND PUBLIC TALK 10TH FEBRUARY 1957 I think most of us are easily satisfied with explanations, and we do not seem able to go beyond mere words and directly experience something original for ourselves. We are always repeating like gramophone records, merely following some authority who promises a certain result. Now, it seems to me that religion is something entirely different. It is not this worship of words, nor is it the projection of symbols and the experiencing of those symbols. Religion is the experiencing of that which lies beyond the measure of the mind; but to experience that state, to realize the immensity of it, one really has to understand the process of one's own thinking. Most of us are indifferent to the impressions, to the pressures, to the vitality of existence; we are easily satisfied, and some of us dare not even look at the problems about us and within ourselves. So I think it would be worth while if we could, this evening, look at our problems, not theoretically or abstractly, but actually, and see what our problems really are. Not that we are going to resolve the problem of war, or put an end to the butchery that is going on in Hungary, and so on; but we are easily led away by the very enormity of these issues, and there is not that clarity of thinking which can come into being only when we begin with ourselves, not with somebody or something else. The world problem is our problem, because we are the world. What we think does affect the world; what we do does affect society. The individual problem is directly related to the world problem, and I do not think we are giving sufficient importance to the power of individual thinking and action. Historically I am sure you will find that it is always individuals who produce the great movements that are brought about. So we have to look first and foremost at our own problems, because they are directly related to world problems; and if you and I can spend the whole of this hour in doing that, then perhaps we shall come out of it with a different outlook, a fresh impulse, an explosive vitality. Now, what is our basic problem? As students, or businessmen, as politicians, engineers, or so-called seekers of the truth, whatever that may be, what fundamentally is our problem? First of all, it seems to me that the world is rapidly changing, and that the Western civilization, with its mechanization, its industrialization, its scientific discoveries, its tyranny, parliamentarianism, capital investment, and so on, has left a tremendous imprint on our minds. And we have created through the centuries a society of which we are a part and which says that we must be moral, righteous, virtuous, that we must conduct ourselves in accordance with a certain pattern of thought which promises the eventual achievement of reality, God, or truth. So there is a contradiction in us, is there not? We live in this world of greed, envy and sexual appetites, of emotional pressures, mechanization, and conformity, with the government efficiently controlling our various demands, and at the same time we want to find something greater than mere physical satisfaction. There is an urge to find reality, God, as well as to live in this world. We want to bring that reality into this world. We say that to live in this world we have to earn money, that society demands that we be acquisitive, envious, competitive, ambitious; and yet, living in this world, we want to bring the other thing into being. We may have all our physical needs provided, the government may bring about a state in which we have a great measure of outward security; but inwardly we are starving. So we want the state which we call religion, this reality which brings a new impulse, an explosive vitality to action. Surely, that is my problem, that is your problem. How are we to live in this world, where living implies competition, acquisitiveness, ambition, the aggressive pursuit of our own fulfilment, and also bring into being the perfume of something which is beyond? Is such a thing possible? Can we live in this world and yet have the other? This world is becoming more and more mechanized; the thoughts and actions of the individual are increasingly controlled by the State. The individual is being specialized, educated in a certain pattern to follow a daily routine. There is compulsion in every direction; and living in such a world, can we bring into being that which is neither outward nor inward, but which has a movement of its own and requires a mind that is astonishingly swift, a mind that is capable of intense feeling, intense inquiry? Is that possible? Unless we are neurotic, unless we are mentally peculiar, surely that is our problem. Now, any intelligent man can see that going to temples, doing puja, and all the other nonsense that goes on in the name of religion, is not religion at all; it is merely a social convenience, a pattern which we have been taught to follow. Man is educated to conform to a pattern, not to doubt, not to inquire; and our problem is how to live in this world of envy, greed, conformity and the pursuit of personal ambition, and at the same time to experience that which is beyond the mind, call it God, truth, or what you will. I am not talking about the God of the temples, of the books, of the gurus, but of something far more intense, vital, immense, something which is immeasurable. So, living in this world with all these problems, how am I to capture the other? Is that possible? Obviously not. I cannot be envious and yet find out what God or truth is; the two are contradictory, incompatible. But that is what most of us are trying to do. We are envious, we are carried along by the old momentum, and at the same time we dream of finding out whether there is God, whether there is love, truth, beauty, a timeless state. If you observe your own thinking, if you are at all aware of the operation of your own mind, you will see that you want to have one foot in this world and one foot in that other world, whatever it may be. But the two are incompatible, they cannot be mixed. Then what is one to do? Do you understand, sirs? I realize that I cannot mix reality with something which has no reality. How can a mind that is agitated by envy, that is living in the field of ambition, greed, understand something which is completely still, and which has a movement of its own in that stillness? As an intelligent human being I see the impossibility of such a thing. I also see that my problem is not to find God, because I do not know what that means. I may have read innumerable books on the subject, but such books are merely explanations, words, theories which have no actuality for a person who has not experienced that which is beyond the mind. And the interpreter is always a traitor, it does not matter who that interpreter is. My problem, then, is not to find truth, God, because my mind is incapable of it. How can a stupid, petty mind find the immeasurable? Such a mind can talk about the immeasurable, write books about it, it can fashion a symbol of truth and garland the symbol, but that is all on the verbal level. So, being intelligent and aware of this fact, I say, "I must begin with what I actually am, not with what I should be. I am envious, that is all I know". Now, is it possible for me, while living in this society, to be free of envy? To say it is or is not possible is an assumption, and therefore has no value. To find out if one can do it requires intensity of inquiry. Most of you will say it is impossible to live in this world without envy, without greed. Our whole social structure, our code of morality is based on envy, so you assume it is not possible and that is the end of it. Whereas, a man who says, "I don't know if there is a reality or not, but I want to find out; and to find out my mind must obviously be free of envy, not just in patches, but totally, because envy is a movement of agitation" - it is only such a man who is capable of real inquiry. We shall go into that presently. So my problem is not to inquire into reality, but to find out whether, living in this world, I can be free of envy. Envy is not mere jealousy, though jealousy is part of it, nor is it merely being concerned because someone else has more than I. Envy is the state of a mind which is demanding more and more all the time: more power, more position, more money, more experience, more knowledge. And demanding the `more' is the activity of a mind which is self-centred. Now, can I live in this world and be free of self-centred activity? Can I cease to compare myself with somebody else? Being ugly, I want to be beautiful; being violent, I want to be nonviolent. Wanting to be different, to be `more', is the beginning of envy - which does not mean that I blindly accept what I am. But this desire to be different is always in relation to something which is comparatively greater, more beautiful, more this or more that, and we are educated to compare in this way. It is our daily craving to compete, to surpass, and we are satisfied with being envious, not only consciously but also unconsciously. You feel that you must become some body in this world, a great man or a rich man, and if you are fortunate you say it is because you have done good in the past - all that nonsense about karma, and so on. Inwardly also you want to become somebody, a saint, a virtuous man; and if you observe this whole movement of becoming, this pursuit of the `more', both outwardly and inwardly, you will see that it is essentially based on envy. In this movement of envy your mind is held; and with such a mind, can you discover the real? Or is that an impossibility? Surely, to discover the real, your mind must be completely free of envy; there can be no demand for the `more', either openly or in the hidden recesses of the unconscious. And if you have ever observed it, you will know that your mind is always pursuing the `more'. You had a certain experience yesterday, and you want more of it today; or being violent, you want to be non-violent, and so on. These are all the activities of a mind which is concerned with itself. Now, is it possible for the mind to be free from this whole process? That is my inquiry, not whether there is or there is not God. For an envious mind to seek God is such a waste of time; it has no meaning except theoretically, intellectually, as an amusement. If I really want to find out whether there is God or not, I must begin with myself, that is, the mind must lie totally free from envy; and I can assure you, that is an enormous task. It is not just a matter of playing with words. But you see, most of us are not concerned with that, we do not say, "I will free my mind from envy". We are concerned with the world, with what is happening in Europe, with the mechanization of industry - anything to get away from the central point, which is that I cannot help to bring about a different world till I as an individual have changed fundamentally. To see that one must begin with oneself is to realize an enormous truth; but most of us overlook it, we easily brush it aside, because we are concerned with the collective, with changing the social order, with trying to bring about peace and harmony in the world. Few people are concerned with themselves except in the sense of achieving success. I do not mean that kind of concern. I mean being concerned with the transformation of oneself. But first of all, most of us do not see the importance, the truth of change; and secondly, we do not know how to change, how to bring about this astonishing, explosive transformation within ourselves. Changing in mediocrity, which is to change from one pattern to another, is no change at all. This explosive transformation is the result of all one's energy coming together to solve the fundamental problem of envy. I am taking that as the central issue, though there are many other things involved in it. Have I the capacity, the intensity, the intelligence, the swiftness to pursue the ways of envy, and not just say, "I must not be envious"? We have been saying that for centuries, and it has no meaning. We have also said, "I must follow the ideal of non-envy", which is equally absurd, because we project the ideal of non-envy and are envious in the meantime. Please observe this process. The fact is that you are envious, while the ideal is the state of non-envy, and there is a gap between the two that has to be filled through time. You say, "Eventually I shall be free of envy" - which is an impossibility, because it has to happen now or never. You cannot set some future date on which you will be non-envious. So, is it possible for me to have the capacity to inquire into and be totally free from envy? How does that capacity arise? Does it arise through any method or practice? Do I become an artist by practising a particular technique day after day? Obviously not. So please do listen to this for two minutes, not with the desire to have something, but to find out how the capacity in question comes into being. Do you understand, sirs? The desire to have that capacity is a selfish movement of the mind; whereas, if I do not try to cultivate it, but begin to inquire into the whole process of envy, then the means of totally dissolving envy is already there. Now, in what manner do I inquire into the process of envy? What is the motive behind that inquiry? Do I want to be free of envy in order to be a great man, in order to be like Buddha, Christ, and so on? If I inquire with that intention, with that motive, such inquiry projects its own answer, all of which will only perpetuate the monstrous world which we have now. But if I begin to inquire with humility, that is, not with a desire to achieve success, then an entirely different process is taking place. I realize that I have not got the capacity to be free of envy, so I say, "I shall find out" -which means that there is humility from the very beginning. And the moment one is humble, one has the capacity to be free of envy. But the man who says, "I must have that capacity, and I am going to get it through these methods, through this system" - such a man is lost, and it is such people who have created this ugly, treacherous world. A mind that is really humble has an immense capacity for inquiry, whereas the mind that is under the burden of knowledge, that is crippled with experience, with its own conditioning, can never really inquire. A humble mind says, "I do not know, I shall find out" - which means that finding out is never a process of accumulation. Not to accumulate, you must die every day, and then you will find, because you are fundamentally, deeply humble, that this capacity to inquire comes of itself; it is not a thing that you have acquired. Humility cannot be practised, but because there is humility, your mind has the capacity to inquire into envy; and such a mind is no longer envious. Do you understand, sirs? A mind which says, "I do not know", and which does not want to become something, has totally ceased to be envious. Then you will find that righteousness has quite a different meaning. Righteousness is not respectability, it is not conformity, it has nothing to do with social morality, which is mere convenience, a manner of living made respectable through centuries of compulsion, conformity, pressure and fear. A mind that is really humble, in the sense I have explained, will create its own righteousness, which is not the righteousness of a pattern. It is the righteousness of living from humility and discovering from moment to moment what is truth. So your problem is not the world of newspapers, ideas and politicians, it is the world within yourself - but you have to realize, to feel the truth of this, and not merely agree because the Gita or some bearded gentleman says it is so. If you are aware of that inner world and are watching yourself without condemnation or justification from day to day, from moment to moment, then in that awareness you will find there is a tremendous vitality. The mind that is accumulating is frightened to die, and such a mind can never discover what is truth. But to a mind that is dying every minute to everything that it has experienced, there comes an astonishing vitality, because every moment is new; and only then is the mind capable of discovery. Sirs, it is good to be serious, and we are very rarely serious in our life. I do not mean just listening to somebody who is serious, or being serious about something, but having the feeling of seriousness in ourselves. We know very well what it is to be gay, flippant, but very few of us know the feeling of being deeply serious without an object to make us serious - that state in which the mind approaches every situation, however gay, happy, or exciting, with serious intent. So it is good to spend an hour together in this way, being serious in our inquiry, because life for most of us is very superficial, a routine relationship of work, sex, worship, and so on. The mind is always on the surface, and to go below the surface seems to be an enormously difficult task. What is necessary is this state of explosiveness, which is real revolution in the religious sense, because it is only when the mind is explosive that it is capable of discovering or creating something original, new. Question: I have done something wrong and sinful, and it has left me with a terrible feeling of guilt. How am I to get over this feeling? Krishnamurti: Sir, what do you mean by sin? The Christians have a concept of sin which you have not, but you do feel guilty when you have more money, when you have a bigger house than somebody else - at least you should. (Laughter). When you are riding in a comfortable car and you see a queue of people one mile long waiting to catch a bus, it does something to you - either you have what is called a feeling of guilt, or you want to transform something radically, not in the stupid economic sense, but in the religious sense, so that these things cannot happen in the world. Or you may feel guilty because you realize that you have a certain capacity, an insight which others have not. But strangely we never feel guilty about such things, we feel guilty only about worldly things - having more money, a better social position, and so on. Now, what is this sense of guilt, and when are you aware of it? Is it a form of pity? Most of us are occupied with ourselves in different ways from morning till night, and consciously or unconsciously we move along in that stream. When there is a sudden challenge, that movement of self-occupation is disturbed, and then we feel guilty, we feel that we are doing something wrong, or that we have not done something right ; but that feeling is still within the stream of self-centred activity, is it not? I do not know if you are all following this. Why should you feel guilty? If you are living intensely with your whole being, if you are fully aware of everything about you and within yourself, the unconscious as well as the conscious, where is there room for guilt? It is the man who lives in fragments, who is divided within himself, that feels guilty. One part of him is good, the other part corrupt; one part is trying to be noble, and the other is ignoble; one part is ambitious, ruthless, and the other part talks about peace, love. Such people feel guilty because they are still within the pattern of their own making. As long as there is self-centred activity, you cannot get over the feeling of guilt, it is impossible. That feeling disappears, only when you approach life totally, with your whole being, that is, when there is no self-fulfilment of any kind. Then you will find that the sense of guilt does not exist at all, because you are not thinking about yourself. There is no self-centred activity. Sirs, if you are listening and are not acting, it is like a man who is always tilling and never sowing. It is better not to listen to a truth than to listen without acting, for then it becomes a poison. Whether you approve or disapprove of the details of what is said here, is irrelevant; what matters is to see the truth that as long as you function within the field of self-centred activity you are bound to have various kinds of sorrow and frustration. Sorrow and frustration cease only when you are living totally, with the intensity of your whole being, of your mind, heart and body; and you cannot live with that completeness, with that intensity, if you are concerned about your own virtue. You may be free from the feeling of guilt today, but it will arise in another form tomorrow, or the day after tomorrow. Just try this, sirs, try a little bit to live intensely every day, with all your mind, heart and body, with all your capacity, feeling, energy. Desire is contradictory in itself; but if you love intensely with your body, mind and heart, with everything that you have, then you will find there is no contradiction, there is no sin. It is desire, envy, ambition, that creates contradiction, and the mind caught in contradiction can never find that which is real. Question: How can I be sensitive when I am tortured by desire? Krishnamurti: Why are we tortured by desire? Why have we made desire into a torturous thing? There is desire for power, desire for position, desire for fame, sexual desire, the desire to have money, to have a car, and so on. What do you mean by that word `desire'? And why is it wrong? Why do we say we must suppress or sublimate desire, do something about it? We are trying to find out, Don't just listen to me, but go into it with me and find out for yourself. What is wrong with desire? You have suppressed it, have you not? Most of you have suppressed desire, for various reasons: because it is not convenient, not satisfactory, or because you think it is not moral, or because the religious books say that to find God you must be without desire, and so on. Tradition says you must suppress, control, dominate desire, so you spend your time and energy in disciplining yourself. Now, let us first see what happens to a mind that is always controlling itself, suppressing, sublimating desire. Such a mind, being occupied with itself, becomes insensitive. Though it may talk about sensitivity, goodness, though it may say that we must be brotherly, we must produce a marvellous world, and all the rest of the nonsense that people talk who suppress desire, such a mind is insensitive because it does not understand that which it has suppressed. Whether you suppress or yield to desire, it is essentially the same, because the desire is still there. You may suppress the desire for a woman, for a car, for position; but the very urge not to have these things, which makes you suppress the desire for them, is itself a form of desire. So, being caught in desire, you have to understand it, and not say it is right or wrong. Now, what is desire? When I see a tree swaying in the wind, it is a lovely thing to watch; and what is wrong with that? What is wrong in watching the beautiful motion of a bird on the wing? What is wrong in looking at a new car, marvellously built and highly polished? And what is wrong in seeing a nice person with a symmetrical face, a face that shows good sense, intelligence, quality? But desire does not stop there. Your perception is not just perception, but with it comes sensation. With the arising of sensation you want to touch, to contact, and then comes the urge to possess. You say, "This is beautiful, I must have it", and so begins the turmoil of desire. Now, is it possible to see, to observe, to be aware of the beautiful and the ugly things of life, and not say "I must have" or "I must not have"? Have you ever just observed anything? Do you understand, sirs? Have you ever observed your wife, your children, your friends, just looked at them? Have you ever looked at a flower without calling it a rose, without wanting to put it in your buttonhole, or take it home and give it to somebody? If you are capable of so observing, without all the values attributed by the mind, then you will find that desire is not such a monstrous thing. You can look at a car, see the beauty of it, and not be caught in the turmoil or contradiction of desire. But that requires an immense intensity of observation, not just a casual glance. It is not that you have no desire, but simply that the mind is capable of looking without describing. It can look at the moon and not immediately say, "That is the moon, how beautiful it is; so there is no chattering of the mind coming in between. If you can do this, you will find that in the intensity of observation, of feeling, of real affection, love has its own action, which is not the contradictory action of desire. Experiment with this and you will see how difficult it is for the mind to observe without chattering about what it observes. But surely, love is of that nature, is it not? How can you love if your mind is never silent, if you are always thinking about yourself? To love a person with your whole being with your mind, heart and body, requires great intensity; and when love is intense, desire soon disappears. But most of us have never had this intensity about anything, except about our own profit, conscious or unconscious; we never feel for anything without seeking something else out of it. But only the mind that has this intense energy is capable of following the swift movement of truth. Truth is not static, it is swifter than thought, and the mind cannot possibly conceive of it. To understand truth, there must be this immense energy which cannot be conserved or cultivated. This energy does not come through self-denial, through suppression. On the contrary, it demands complete abandonment; and you cannot abandon yourself, or abandon everything that you have, if you merely want a result. It is possible to live without envy in this world which is based on envy, on acquisitiveness and the pursuit of power, position; but that requires an extraordinary intensity, a clarity of thought, of understanding. You cannot be free of envy without understanding yourself, so the beginning is here, not somewhere else. Unless you begin with yourself, do what you will, you will never find the end of sorrow. The purification of the mind is meditation - the purification of the mind which is concerned with itself. You have to understand yourself, and you can play with it a little bit every day. A man who plays with the understanding of himself will perceive far more than he who preaches to others. February 10, 1957 BOMBAY 3RD PUBLIC TALK 17TH FEBRUARY 1957 When religion becomes universal it ceases to be religion. When religion is a matter of belief, of conversion, of belonging to a group which subscribes to certain ideas, then the seed of religion has gone out of it. For religion is something that must be understood by each individual in the process of living, in the activities of our daily life, and it has therefore nothing to do with educating the mind to function in a particular pattern of thought. So it seems to me very important to understand the function of the individual in a society which is merely the mechanism of a collection of ideas, and where what we call morality is a matter of staying within a particular pattern of behaviour. But righteousness is not the following of a pattern; it is the action of a mind which understands its own relationship with another. If I am moral merely in the social sense, such morality, though it is socially convenient, has nothing whatsoever to do with religion. Surely, to find out what truth is, what reality or God is, the mind must be free from social morality, because social morality leads to respectability, to conformity; and the mind that merely conforms to an ethical or moral pattern obviously can never find out what is true. Virtue is really the ordering of the mind; and our problem is how to bring about virtue without the cultivation of virtue, is it not? If I cultivate virtue, it ceases to be virtue; and yet without virtue there is no order. Virtue is really a disciplining of the mind without an end in view; it is like putting a room in order. Virtue is not an end in itself; it merely makes the mind clear, free, uncontaminated by society. So the problem is, is it not, how can one's mind, one's whole being, be virtuous immediately, and not go through the process of becoming virtuous? Because the struggle to become virtuous only strengthens narrowness, the self-centred activity of the mind. I think that is fairly clear: that when I try to become virtuous, I am really emphasizing the activity of my own egotism, and therefore it is no longer virtue. Virtue frees the mind, and the mind is not free as long as there is no virtue. But the so-called virtue on which most of us base our behaviour is merely a social convenience; and society, being rooted in acquisitiveness, in competition, egotism, envy, cannot possibly understand the virtue of being and not becoming. If we do not understand what it is to be virtuous, the mind will never be free to inquire, to find out what reality is. Virtue is essential as conduct, as behaviour; but behaviour which is based on compulsion, on conformity, fear, is no longer the action of a virtuous mind. So we must find out what it is to be virtuous, without the cultivation of virtue. I think the two things lead in entirely different directions. A man who cultivates virtue is all the time thinking about himself; he is everlastingly concerned about his own progress, his personal improvement, which is still the activity of the `me', the self, the ego; and this activity obviously has nothing whatever to do with virtue, which is a state of being and not becoming. Now, how can a mind whose whole social and moral conditioning has been to cultivate virtue by using time as a means of becoming virtuous - how can such a mind free itself of that sense of becoming, and be in a state of virtue? I do not know if you have ever thought of the problem in this way. To understand it, I think we have to find out what it means to discipline the mind. Most of us use discipline to achieve a result. Being angry, I say I must not be angry, so I discipline myself, control, suppress, dominate my anger, which means that I conform to an ideological pattern. That is what we are used to: a constant struggle to adjust what we are to what we think we should be. In order to become what we should be, we go through certain practices, we discipline ourselves day after day, month after month, year in and year out, hoping to arrive at a stage which we think is right. So in discipline there is involved, not only suppression, but also conformity, narrowing the mind down to a particular pattern. Please understand, sirs, that I am not condemning discipline. We are examining the whole process involved in conduct that is based on discipline. If I can understand the present process of discipline, which is the process that most of us know, and see the falseness or the truth of it, then I shall have a totally different feeling of discipline, a discipline which has no relation to fear, and such a feeling of true discipline is essential. But the discipline that we practise is based on fear and conformity, on the struggle to become something through substitution, identification, or sublimation. All these things are involved in the practice of discipline by a mind which is in confusion, and obviously such discipline, being based on fear, has no relationship to reality. If I discipline myself because my neighbour, or society, or the priest, or some sacred book has told me it is the right thing to do, then such discipline is obviously immature, infantile, it has no meaning at all, and any conduct based on that pattern only leads to respectability, which has nothing whatsoever to do with reality. Now, if I understand that mere conformity to a pattern through fear is not discipline, then what is discipline? The mind must function without disorder, it must be free of confusion; and virtue is obviously the ordering of the mind so that it can fly straight and not crooked, without the distortion of its own ambitions, envies and desires. But to fly straight there must bc a discipline which is not related to the discipline of conformity, sublimation, or suppression, that is, a discipline in which no struggle is involved, no effort to become something. And how is such a discipline to come about without volition, without the action of will? - because after all, will is the apex of desire. Is it possible for the mind to be disciplined without the coming into being of the entity who desires to discipline it? Do you follow? I think this is an important issue, and may I suggest that one should listen to it, not with antagonism because one's mind habitually functions in the old discipline and therefore rejects the other, but rather to find out what the other discipline is. The ordinary discipline, though it may look noble, is essentially based on fear; and our inquiry is to find out if there is a discipline which is not based on fear, which is not a result of the action of will. We can see that the action of will does produce a result. If I desire something very ardently, if I patiently pursue it, I will get it. But that is the functioning of will, and will is essentially a process of resistance; and a mind whose discipline is merely a process of resistance cannot possibly understand the other. So, how is the individual mind, yours and mine, to come to the state of discipline without disciplining itself? After all, virtue -which is being virtuous, not becoming virtuous - is a state of discipline not based on self-centred activity. And how is the mind to free itself from the self-centred activity which it now calls discipline? Such discipline can produce certain results, which may be noble or ignoble; but self-centred activity in any form, with its will, with its fears, can never be virtuous. And is it possible for my mind to be free of all self-centred activity without disciplining itself? That is the real issue in conduct, in behaviour. When I use the words `my mind', it is merely a way of speaking; it is not my mind, it is the mind. Now, this mind, as far as I can see, functions only in self-centred activity; whether it meditates on God, or pursues sexual gratification, or practises the ideal of non-violence, or plunges into social reform, its activity is essentially self-centred, that is, within the area of time, within the field of its own thought. And is it possible for the mind to free itself from that self-centred activity without compulsion, without the discipline which is conformity to a pattern? Why does one put this question? Most of us discipline ourselves in the ordinary sense. Being envious, we say that we must not be envious, we must be strict with ourselves. We have not understood, but we say, "If I can progress through discipline, I will eventually understand". We do not look at the significance of such a discipline, we never question this process of discipline itself. Now, by questioning, by inquiring into it, you will see that such discipline has no value at all, except socially, and it cannot possibly lead to reality. Reality is to be understood only when there is complete abandonment, and you cannot abandon yourself as long as there is any form of self-centred activity. You cannot be austere when austerity is cultivated, for then the mind is seeking a result. There is a different kind of austerity which has nothing whatever to do with giving up one thing in order to arrive at something else, and it can never be known as long as the mind forces, controls, suppresses itself. The austerity of suppression does bring a sense of power, of domination over oneself, and in that there is a great pleasure, a great vitality, but it does not lead in the direction of reality. On the contrary, it is merely a perpetuation of self-centred activity away from the world. It is like having all the treasures of the world in a different direction. So, is it possible for the mind to be austere as long as there is the entity who is seeking to be austere? Sirs, this is not something metaphysical, mystical, or vague. If you really pursue it, think it out, if you really look in the direction I am pointing, you will discover for yourself that out of this inquiry a discipline comes which has nothing whatsoever to do with the self-centred activity of seeking a result. The discipline you are used to is utterly false; it may have value in the social sense, but it has no relationship to the inquiry after reality. Yet there must be virtue in order to find reality; so what is one to do? Now, when my mind seeks, not out of the desire for a result, but out of the sheer necessity of seeking because it sees the falseness of what it has been doing, then that very process of inquiry is discipline which has nothing whatsoever to do with self-achievement. I am inquiring; and to inquire, the mind must be completely uncontaminated, free of all pressures. A mind that is tethered to worry, to ambition, to greed, to envy, to passion, is obviously incapable of inquiry. Truth has to be found, not believed in, and to find it the mind must be free. The moment I see the truth of that, my mind is freeing itself from the false, and therefore there is true discipline; there is no entity who disciplines, but the very perception of what is false makes the mind understand the nature of true discipline. So virtue is essential to the understanding of reality, and virtue is not respectability. Being virtuous, and not trying to become virtuous, demands enormous inquiry, clear thinking, and you cannot possibly think clearly if there is any form of fear. Therefore there must be the understanding of fear without asking how to overcome fear; there must be the understanding of violence without trying to become non-violent. Then you will find that there is a discipline which is unrelated to the discipline of social morality, a discipline which is essential, because it makes the mind capable of pursuing with extraordinary rapidity the swift movement of truth. If you would watch a bird in flight you must give your whole attention to it, and that very attention is discipline. The reality of the books, of the priests, of society, is no reality at all; it is mere propaganda, and therefore not true. If you want to understand what is reality, if you want to find out what is truth, your mind must be capable of astonishing clarity, of silence and swiftness; and the mind is not clear, it is not silent, it is not swift as long as it is tethered to any form of discipline as expressed in the morality of society. When you understand all this you will find there is a discipline, an austerity which is not the result of self- centred activity; and it is this discipline which is essential if the mind is to follow the swift movement of truth. You see, the difficulty for most of us is that we have had a pleasurable experience, and we discipline ourselves because we want the pleasurable experience to continue. I have had a moment of clarity, of joy, of extraordinary perception of something beyond the measure of words, and it has left an imprint on my mind; and because I want more of it, I control myself, I practise virtue, and so on. That is a form of envy, is it not? Envy breeds discipline, but that is not freedom. Now, a mind that seeks reality finds in that very search a process of discipline in which there is no experiencing on the part of the experiencer. For the experiencer not to have experience demands tremendous clarity, an astonishing steadiness of thought, of understanding; and out of this understanding of the totality of the mind, which is self-knowledge, there comes a discipline, a conduct, a behaviour which brings about the austerity that is essential to abandonment. Only through the abandonment which is the outcome of austerity is there beauty. Only the mind that abandons itself completely is really austere, and it is such a mind that is capable of understanding that which is truth, that which is reality. Question: Thought is the seed which contains within it the beginning and the ending, the totality of time. This seed quickens and germinates in the darkness of the mind. What action is possible to burn away this seed? Krishnamurti: There is only one action, which is the action of silence. But first of all, I hope you have understood the question. The questioner says that the seed of thought, which is the totality of time, matures in the dark womb of the mind, and he asks how this seed of thought, this result of time, this product of the past, is to be completely burnt out - but not through a process, not through a method or a system, which implies time, and therefore we are back again in the darkness where the germination and continuity of thought is taking place. So the question is: how is thought, which is the totality of time, to end? Now, before I begin to find out, I must inquire into what thinking is, must I not? And in asking that question, I have given myself a challenge to which there is a response according to my memory. When I say, "What is thinking?", the mechanism of memory is set going - the memory of my experiences, of my knowledge, of what I have learnt or been told about thinking. So my mind is delving into memory to find an answer to the question, which is the challenge. This delving into memory for an answer, and the verbal communication of it to you, is what we call thinking, which is the process of time. I hope I am making myself clear, because it is really very important to understand this. It is only when you understand the process of your own thinking that you will find out what it is to have a mind that is totally still. For the mind to be still there must be complete energy, energy which is not dissipated, which is total, in which there is the vitality of your whole being. To have that total energy which brings silence to the mind, one must inquire into what is thinking; and we see that thinking is the response of memory, which is fairly simple. If I ask you where you live, you reply quickly, because that is something you are familiar with. If I ask you a more complicated question, you hesitate, there is a gap between my question and your answer; in that gap the mind is thinking looking into memory. If I ask you a still more complicated question, the gap is longer. The mind is searching, groping after the answer; and if it does not find the answer it says, "I do not know". But when it says, "I do not know", it is in a state of wanting to know, and therefore it is still caught up in the process of thinking. We see, then, what thinking is. The question that sets the mind in motion may be simple or very complex, but it is always the mechanism of memory which responds, whether that memory be of something which is in the extremely recent past, in the past of yesterday, or in the past of a century ago. So the whole process of thinking is the response of memory. It is this process of thinking which says, "I must discipline myself, I must free myself from fear, from greed, from envy, I must find God", it is this process of thinking which has a belief in God, or which says, "There is no God; but it is still within the field of time, because thinking itself is the totality of time. Now, for a man who would find reality, or who would seek the understanding that will uncover reality, thinking must cease -thinking in the sense of the totality of time. And how is thinking to cease? - but not through any form of practice, discipline, control, suppression, which is all within the field of thought, and therefore within the area of time. The mind which says, "I must inquire into something which is not of time" - that very mind, which is the process of thinking, of time, must come to an end. Is it not so? I hope you are not merely listening to my words, because words are ashes, they have no meaning except on the verbal level; but if you are capable of pursuing the significance of that which lies beyond the words, then you will understand the extraordinary beauty and depth of a mind that frees itself from the process of time. In time there is no depth, in time there is no virtue, in time there is only the germinating and maturing of thought - thought which is always conditioned, thought which can never be free. There is no such thing as `free' thought, that is sheer nonsense. Thinking is only thinking, and when you see what the significance of thinking is, you will never talk about `free' thought. So our question is: is it possible for thought, which is the result of the past, the totality of time, to cease immediately? I say it is possible only when the mind is completely still. If you ask, "How is the mind to be completely still?", the `how' is the demand for a method, so you are again caught in time. But there is a `how' which is not of time, because it is not the demand for a method. Do you follow what I am saying, sirs? You can ask "how" meaning "Teach me the method that will in time put an end to thinking", and such a `how' is merely the continuation of thinking by which you hope to come to a state where there is no thinking - which is an obvious impossibility. But if you see the falseness of that process, then the `how' has a different significance altogether. Please pay attention to this, for if you understand it you will know immediately for yourself what it is to have a still mind; nobody will have to teach you, and you will not want a guru. The `how' which implies a method involves time, and therefore the continuation of thought which is conditioned, in which there is no freedom. That `how' has no validity when you are inquiring into what is truth, because to inquire into what is truth there must be freedom - freedom from thought. Now, the moment you see that the `how' which demands a method is merely the continuation of time, what happens to your mind? I hope you are watching your own mind, and are not just listening to my words. What happens to your mind when you see that the `how' which demands a method is not the way to free the mind? You are left with a `how' which is inquiry, are you not? And to inquire you must start with complete silence, because you know nothing. Do you understand? A mind that is inquiring has no accumulation, its inquiry is not additive, it has no gatherings of knowledge. Do you understand, sirs? If I am inquiring into what love is, I cannot say that love is spiritual, divine, or the outcome of karma, and all that, which is merely a process of thinking. I will never find out what love is through thinking because thought is conditioned, thought is the result of time. Thought projects ideas about love, but what it projects is not love. To inquire into what love is, the mind must be free of information, of ideas, of thought. When I see the truth of that, my mind becomes completely still; I do not have to ask how to make it still. What is important is right inquiry, which is to inquire so that the mind is free from the knowledge accumulated through experience by the experiencer. Thought, which is the totality of time, germinates in the dark recesses of the mind, for the mind is the result of time, of many thousands of yesterdays. The mere continuance of thought, however noble, however erudite, however dignified, is still within the field of time, and such a mind is incapable of finding out what is beyond the measure of itself. What matters, then, is for the mind which is the result of time to begin to inquire into itself, and not speculate about the state of a mind which is free from time. It is only when the mind begins to inquire into itself that it is aware of its own processes and the significance of its thinking. You can be totally and immediately aware of all the dark corners of the mind where thought is functioning only when you realize that thought can never lead the mind to freedom. If you really understand this, then you will find that the mind becomes completely still, not only the conscious mind, but also the unconscious, with all its racial inheritance, its motives, dogmas, and hidden fears. But there is that total stillness of the mind only when there is the tremendous energy of self-knowledge. It is self-knowledge that brings this energy, not your abstinence from sex, from alcohol, from this or that - which is again a form of self-centred activity. This total energy is essential, and the intensity, the fullness, the vitality of it can come only when there is self-knowledge. But self-knowledge is not cumulative; it is the discovery of what you are from moment to moment, and total energy exists only when there is this intensity of self-knowledge. Then the mind is completely still, and in that stillness there is great beauty of which you do not know; in that stillness there is an astonishing movement which destroys the germination of the mind. That silence has its own activity, its own operation on society, and it will produce an action irrespective of the particular social pattern. But the mind that is merely caught up in social reform, in bringing about equality through legislation, and all the rest of it, will never know this other action which operates on the totality. That is why it is very important to understand yourself. Out of that understanding, which is total self-knowledge, there is real abandonment, and only then is there this extraordinary sense of silence. I do not know if you have ever sat quietly in the early morning, when the mind is not active, and watched the still sky, the brilliant stars, the trees, the birds. Try it sometime, not to meditate - for then it is the self-centred activity of the meditator - , but just for the fun of it. Then you will find there is a silence which has no relationship to knowledge. It is not the end of noise, or the opposite of noise. It is a silence which is really the creativity of all things, the beginning of all things. But you will never find it if you do not have this total knowledge of yourself. The understanding of yourself is the beginning of freedom. February 17, 1957 BOMBAY 4TH PUBLIC TALK 20TH FEBRUARY 1957 I wonder what most of us are seeking. And when we do find what we seek, is it totally satisfactory, or is there always the shadow of frustration in that which we have sought out? And is it possible to learn from everything, from our sorrows and joys, so that our minds are made fresh and are capable of learning infinitely more? Most of us listen to be told what to do, or to conform to a new pattern, or we listen merely to gather further information. If we are here with any such attitude, then the process of listening will have very little significance in what we are trying to do in these talks. And I am afraid most of us are only concerned with that: we want to be told, we are listening in order to be taught; and a mind that merely wants to be told is obviously incapable of learning. I think there is a process of learning which is not related to wanting to be taught. Being confused, most of us want to find someone who will help us not to be confused, and therefore we are merely learning or acquiring knowledge in order to conform to a particular pattern; and it seems to me that all such forms of learning must invariably lead not only to further confusion, but also to deterioration of the mind. I think there is a different kind of learning, a learning which is an inquiry into ourselves and in which there is no teacher and no taught, neither the disciple nor the guru. When you begin to inquire into the operation of your own mind, when you observe your own thinking, your daily activities and feelings, you cannot be taught because there is no one to teach you. You cannot base your inquiry on any authority, on any assumption, on any previous knowledge. If you do, then you are merely conforming to the pattern of what you already know, and therefore you are no longer learning about yourself. I think it is very important to learn about oneself, because it is only then that the mind can be emptied of the old; and unless the mind is emptied of the old there can be no new impulse. It is this new, creative impulse that is essential if the individual is to bring about a different world, a different relationship, a different structure of morality. And it is only through totally emptying the mind of the old that the new impulse can come into being, give it whatever name you like: the impulse of reality, the grace of God, the feeling of something completely new, unpremeditated, something which has never been thought of, which has not been put together by the mind. Without that extraordinarily creative impulse of reality, do what you will to clear up the confusion and bring order in the social structure, it can only lead to further misery. I think this is fairly obvious when one observes the political and social events that are taking place in the world. So it is important, it seems to me, that the mind be emptied of all knowledge, because knowledge is invariably of the past; and as long as the mind is burdened with the residue of the past, of our personal or collective experiences, there can be no learning. There is a learning which begins with self-knowledge, a learning which comes with awareness of your everyday activities: what you do, what you think, what your relationship with another is, how your mind responds to every incident and challenge of your daily life. If you are not aware of your response to every challenge in life, there is no self-knowledge. You can know yourself as you are only in relation to something, in relation to people, to ideas and to things. If you assume anything about yourself, if you postulate that you are the Atman, or the higher self, for example, and start from that, which is obviously a form of conclusion, your mind is incapable of learning. When the mind is burdened with a conclusion, a formulation, there is the cessation of inquiry. And it is essential to inquire, not merely as it is being done by certain specialists in the scientific or psychological field, but to inquire into oneself and to know the totality of one's being, the operation of one's own mind at the conscious and also at the unconscious level in all the activities of one's daily existence: how one functions, what one's responses are when one goes to the office, rides in the bus, when one talks with one's children, with one's wife or husband, and so on. Unless the mind is aware of the totality of itself, not as it should be but as it actually is; unless it is aware of its conclusions, its assumptions, its ideals, its conformity, there is no possibility of the coming into being of this new, creative impulse of reality. You may know the superficial layers of your mind; but to know the unconscious motives, drives, fears, the hidden residue of tradition, of racial inheritance - to be aware of all that and to give it close attention is very hard work, it demands a great deal of energy. Most of us are unwilling to give close attention to these things, we have not the patience to go into ourselves step by step, inch by inch, so that we begin to know all the subtleties, the intricate movements of the mind. But it is only the mind which has understood itself in its totality and is therefore incapable of self-deception - it is only such a mind that can free itself of its past and go beyond its own movements within the field of time. This is not very difficult, but it requires a great deal of hard work. You work a great deal when you go to the office, you have to work to earn your livelihood, or to do anything else in life. You have been trained to work hard in the commercial world, and you are also willing to work hard in the so-called spiritual world if there is a reward at the end of it. If you are promised a seat in heaven, or if you believe that you can achieve bliss, an everlasting peace, you will work hard to get it; but that is merely an action of greed. Now, there is a different way of working, which is to inquire into ourselves and to know exactly what is going on within the field of the mind, not in order to gain some reward, but for the very simple reason that there can obviously be no end to misery in the world as long as the mind does not understand itself. And after all, the world in which we live is not the enormous world of political activities, of scientific research, and so on; it is the little world of the family, the world of relationship between two people at home or in the office, between husband and wife, parents and children, teacher and pupil, lawyer and client, policeman and citizen. That is the little world we all live in; but we want to escape from that world of relationship and go out into an extraordinary world which we have imagined and which does not really exist at all. If we do not understand the world of relationship and bring about a fundamental transformation there, we cannot possibly create a new culture, a different civilization, a peaceful world. So it must start with ourselves. The world demands an immense, a radical change, but it must begin with you and me; and we cannot bring about a real change in ourselves if we do not know the totality of our world of thoughts, of feelings, of actions, if we are not aware of ourselves from moment to moment. And you will see, if you are so aware, that the mind begins to free itself from all influences of the past. After all, the mind is now the result of the past, and all thinking is a projection of the past, it is simply a response of the past to challenge; so merely to think of creating a new world will never bring a new world into being. Most people, when they are confused, disturbed, want to return to the past, they seek to revive the old religion, to re-establish the ancient customs, to bring back the form of worship practised by their ancestors, and all the rest of it. But what is necessary, surely, is to find out whether the mind that is the result of the past, the mind that is confused, disturbed, groping, seeking - whether such a mind can learn without turning to a guru, whether it can undertake the journey on which there is no guide. Because it is possible to go on this journey only when there is the light which comes through the understanding of yourself, and that light cannot be given to you by another; no Master, no guru can give it to you, nor will you find it in the Gita, or in any other book. You have to find that light within yourself, which means that you must inquire into yourself, and this inquiry is hard work. No one can lead you, no one can teach you how to inquire into yourself. One can point out that such inquiry is essential, but the actual process of inquiring must begin with your own self-observation. A mind that would understand that which is true, that which is real, that which is good, or that which is beyond the measure of the mind - give it whatever name you like - , must be empty, but not be aware that it is empty. I hope you see the difference between the two. If I am aware that I am virtuous, I am no longer virtuous, if I am aware that I am humble, humility has ceased. Surely that is obvious. In the same way, if the mind is aware that it is empty, it is no longer empty, because there is always the observer who is experiencing emptiness. So, is it possible for the mind to be free of the observer, of the censor? After all, the observer, the censor, the watcher, the thinker, is the self, the `me' that is always wanting more and more experience. I have had all the experiences that this world can give me, with its pleasure and pain, its ambition, greed, envy, and I am dissatisfied, frustrated, shallow. So I want further experience on another level which I call the spiritual world; but the experiencer continues, the watcher remains. The watcher, the thinker, the experiencer may cultivate virtue, he may discipline himself and try to lead what he considers to be a moral life; but he remains. And can that experiencer, that self, totally cease? Because only then is it possible for the mind to empty itself and for the new, the truth, the creative reality to come into being. To put it very simply, is it possible for me to forget myself? Don't say "Yes" or "No". We do not know what it means. The sacred books say so-and-so, but all that is mere words, and words are not reality. What is important is for the mind to find out whether that which has been put together - the experiencer, the thinker, the watcher, the `I' - can disappear, dissolve itself. There must be no other entity who dissolves it. I hope I am making myself clear. If the mind says, "The `I' must be dissolved in order to arrive at that extraordinary state which the sacred books promise", then there is the action of will, there is an entity who wants to arrive; so the `I' still remains. Now, is it possible for the mind to free itself of the observer, of the watcher, of the experiencer, without any motive? Obviously, if there is a motive, that very motive is the essence of the `me', of the experiencer. Can you forget yourself entirely without any compulsion, without any desire for reward or fear of punishment -just forget yourself? I do not know if you have tried it. Has such a thought even occurred to you, has it ever come to your mind? And when such a thought does arise, you immediately say, "If I forget myself, how can I live in this world, where everybody is struggling to push me aside and get ahead?" To have a right answer to that question you must first know how to live without the `me', without the experiencer, without the self-centred activity which is the creator of sorrow, the very essence of confusion and misery. So is it possible, while living in this world with all its complex relationships, with all its travail, to abandon oneself completely and be free of the things which go to make up the `me'? You see, sirs and ladies, this is an inquiry, it is not an answer from me. You will have to find out for yourself, and that requires enormous investigation, hard work - much harder work than earning a livelihood, which is mere routine. It requires astonishing vigilance, constant watchfulness, a ceaseless inquiry into every movement of thought. And the moment you begin to inquire into the process of thinking, which is to isolate each thought and think it through to the end, you will see how arduous it is; it is not a lazy man's pleasure. And it is essential to do this, because it is only the mind that has emptied itself of all its old recognitions, its old distractions, its conflicts and self-contradictions - it is only such a mind that has the new, the creative impulse of reality. The mind then creates its own action, it brings into being a different activity altogether, without which mere social reform, however necessary, however beneficial, cannot possibly bring about a peaceful and happy world. As human beings we are all capable of inquiry, of discovery, and this whole process is meditation. Meditation is inquiry into the very being of the meditator. You cannot meditate without self-knowledge, without being aware of the ways of your own mind, from the superficial responses to the most complex subtleties of thought. I am sure it is not really difficult to know, to be aware of oneself; but it is difficult for most of us because we are so afraid to inquire, to grope, to search out. Our fear is not of the unknown, but of letting go of the known. It is only when the mind allows the known to fade away that there is complete freedom from the known, and only then is it possible for the new impulse to come into being. Question: In your last talk you finally conceded the essential need of discipline, but you complicated the issue by saying that this necessary discipline was the discipline of total attention. Please explain. Krishnamurti: I was pointing out in my last talk, if I remember rightly, that the discipline of suppression, sublimation, or substitution, is no discipline at all; it is merely conformity to a pattern, a mechanical process based essentially on fear and respectability. I was also pointing out that there is an altogether different kind of discipline which is not related to fear at all, a discipline of total attention. Now, what do we mean by attention? Do we ever attend to anything? Please, sirs, follow this a little bit. Do we ever attend to anything, listen to anything, observe anything? Or is our attention, our observation, our listening merely a process of resistance? I hear that crow, and I resist it in order to listen to something else; I resist the shouting of those children because I want to listen to what is being said. This resistance is partial attention, and partial attention is no attention at all. Surely that is obvious, is it not? What is the state of my mind when it is resisting a noise because it wants to listen to something? There is a conflict going on within the mind, the conflict which invariably arises through resistance; and where there is conflict there is no attention. I think that is fairly clear. Where there is any form of resistance, there is conflict, and a mind in conflict is incapable of paying attention. Now, is it possible for the mind to be free of resistance, of conflict? How does conflict arise? It arises when one desire is opposed by another, when there is tension between two desires. That again is fairly clear. Please, sirs, I am explaining, and if you are merely listening to the explanations, then you are missing the whole significance of what is being said. But if, as you listen, you watch your own mind, observe your own ways of thinking, then you will see it all very clearly, and that very clarity of perception will bring about attention, you will not have to make an effort to attend. The moment you make an effort to attend, that effort implies resistance, and there can be no attention when there is resistance. Resistance, conflict, arises when there are opposing desires, the tension of wanting and not wanting. So the mind has to understand the whole process of desire, and not identify itself with one desire in opposition to another, or try to make one desire conform to another, however noble, significant, or worthwhile it may be. All desire is contradictory in itself, and therefore desire is the very root of resistance. So, can the mind understand desire? Does the mind know what desire is? The mind knows desire for something, desire for a woman, desire for a man; it knows desire in terms of wanting this or rejecting that. Now, I am asking you a question: Does the mind know what desire is? Is the mind aware of its own state when it is desiring? And is there desire without the object of desire, Without the thing that creates desire? I see something beautiful, and there is sensation, contact, from which arises the desire to possess; so desire is a reaction. And is there desire which is not a reaction? Can the mind experience what desire is in itself? I hope you are following this. Look, sirs, does the mind know what it is to love? Do you know the quality, the sense of love - not what you love, not the object but the feeling itself? Or is that feeling always associated with the object? And if there is no object, does the feeling exist independent of the object? If the feeling is dependent on the object, if it arises only through awareness of the object, then, though we call it love, it is obviously not love, but merely the sensation which that object produces, and therefore a source of conflict. Now, please inquire with me, think with me, feel with me. Is it possible for the mind to have the feeling of love without the object or independent of the object? Is it possible for the mind to attend without the object of attention? I am afraid I am making this a little bit complicated; but the thing itself is complicated, and if you do not follow it, I am sorry. You will have to inquire into all this for yourself, and not just say, "Discipline is discipline; why do you bother so much about it?" The discipline you have known is merely a mechanical habit, it has no vitality, it is destructive, disintegrating. And that is what is happening to most of you - through so-called discipline you are destroying the vitality of thought, of independent inquiry, of full attention. I say there is a discipline which is not related to this horror of conformity, and that is the discipline of attention. But there is no attention when there is resistance, conflict. And can the mind be free of conflict? To inquire into that, the mind has to find out what creates conflict. The cause of conflict is the desire for an object, that is, when it is the object which creates the desire. That is fairly clear. What do we do when the object creates the desire? We discipline ourselves against the object, do we not? We become hermits, sannyasis; we resist, suppress, control, which only creates more and more conflict. And that is what we call being austere -which is a most immature way of thinking. The next question is: Is it possible for the mind to see the object without the arising of desire? Can it just look at the object and not suppress its own reaction? Because the whole of living is reaction, is it not? To see the beauty of a tree, of the earth, of the clear sky, of the sea, of a bird on the wing; to see the faces which smile and the tears of sorrow - to see and feel all that, is living, and to shut yourself off from any of it through discipline, through resistance, is to make life very shallow, dull and stupid. So, is it possible for the mind to see everything, the beautiful and the ugly, without the arising of desire? And when the mind is not caught up with the object of desire, is there no feeling? Please inquire for yourself. Is there no feeling without the object? Is there no love without the object? Is there no listening without the speaker? And if your mind can so listen, can so love, can so feel, then you will find that an extraordinary freedom from the past comes into being which is total attention. Then you don't have to make an effort to discipline yourself, because that total attention is its own discipline. I do not know if you have noticed that when the mind gives its whole attention to something, the watcher is not, the experiencer does not exist. Do you understand, sirs? If I listen to those crows totally, without resistance, if I listen with full attention, in that attention there is no watcher, no experiencer, no entity who is listening; there is only complete attention, complete listening, complete life without a shadow. Such attention brings its own discipline which is much more subtle, much more arduous and much more strict than the stupid discipline of fear and conformity. The state of complete attention is austerity, and it is only in that state that the mind can abandon itself; and only then is it possible for the mind to receive the creative impulse of reality. Merely to resist a desire only tortures the mind and creates the conflict of duality with all its philosophical speculations about reality. Whereas, if your mind is capable of giving total attention to something - to your children, to your wife or husband, to a bird, to a tree, to your everyday tasks - , then you will find that there is no contradiction, no resistance. Resistance arises, contradiction comes into being only when there is the entity who is watching evaluating, judging, condemning, and that entity is the self, the `me'. Conformity at any time is not moral; but there is a discipline which is not the outcome of fear, of respectability, of conformity to social morality, and this discipline comes when the mind is capable of giving total attention in which there is no contradiction or distraction. It is not a question of how the mind is to avoid being distracted, because in giving total attention there is no distraction. Sirs, you all do as every child does when he plays with a toy. The child is completely lost in the toy, it is absorbing him; but that is not attention, because the toy is important. Similarly, you sit in front of a picture and let the picture absorb you - which is what you call meditation. The image, the chant, the shloka, the mantra absorbs you; but that is not attention. In that there is conflict, because the image, the word, or the symbol becomes all-important. If you see the truth of this, you will find that an attention comes which has no object. Such attention is not a gift, it is merely attention without effort, without an object, and therefore without a shadow. It is the object of attention that casts the shadow of contradiction in the mind which is attending. Attention without an object is a state of complete emptiness; the mind is capable of listening completely because it is not resisting. Question: Day follows day, with old age and death coming inexorably nearer. I listen to you, but the anguish of the approaching end does not diminish. Teach me to face old age and death with equanimity. Krishnamurti: What do you mean by old age? Going bald, losing one's teeth? The physical organism inevitably wears itself out through long use. Is that old age? Or is old age the deterioration of the mind? You may be very young, healthy, strong, and yet be old because your mind is already on the path of deterioration. So what do we mean by old age? Surely we are not talking of the gradual wearing out of the body through use and decay. We do not mean that. We mean the state of the mind which has grown old because it has no innocence. Do you understand, sir? The mind is old when it is not fresh, when it is always thinking in terms of the past and using the present as a passage to the future. It is such a mind that is not young. And can such a mind be made new, innocent, fresh? Can it renew itself from moment to moment so that it never grows old? Surely that is our problem, not how to stop the aging of the body, which is of course impossible. New drugs may be invented which will keep you going fifty years longer; but then what? However young you may be, the process of deterioration already exists in the functioning of the mind. So is it possible for the mind not to deteriorate? What are the factors of deterioration? That is the problem. And can the mind be kept fresh, innocent? It is only the innocent mind that can learn, not the mind that is burdened with knowledge and is therefore already old. So, how is the mind to be made new, fresh, innocent? Do you understand, sir? This mind is the result of time, of many yesterdays, of all the conflicts, impressions, contradictions, hopes and fears of the past; it is the outcome of innumerable wants, of pleasure and pain, of vital ambitions and fearful frustrations. And how is this mind -which has been put together through time, through experience, through conditioning - to be made new? Whether the physical organism is young or old, the mind is old because it is already fixed, moulded, it functions in a routine, in a wheel of fear; and how is such a mind to be made new, innocent? Surely, only by dying to the past, to everything it has known. Do you understand, sir? Is it possible to die to `my house', `my family', `my God', `my nationality', `my belief', `my tradition', to all the impressions, compulsions, influences that have made me, and yet be aware of my family, of the beauty of a tree, the beauty of a flower, of the sunset of the sky? After all, what are you? You are the memories of your joy, of your ambitions and frustrations, of the little property you own; you are the memory or recognition of your wife or husband, of your children, and the anticipation of what you are going to achieve; you are a bundle of tensions, of contradictions, of innumerable impressions. All that is the `you'. Whether you believe in God or in no-God, it is still within the field of memory, of the known, of thought. And is it possible to die to all that immediately? To wait for death to come and then ask, "Is there life after death?" is merely to continue the mind which has grown old. So, is it possible for the mind to cease, to put an end without any cause to the deteriorating factor, which is conflict, the process of recognition as `mine' and `yours'? Sir, try it. Live for one day, one hour, as though you were going to die, actually going to die the next hour. If you knew you were about to die, what would you do? You would gather your family together, put your money, your little property in order, and draw up a will; and then, as death approached, you would have to understand all that you had been. If you were merely frightened because you were dying, you would be dying for nothing; but you would not be frightened if you said, "I have lived a dull, ambitious, envious, stupid life, and now I am going to wipe all that totally from my memory, I am going to forget the past and live in this hour completely". Sir, if you can live one hour as completely as that, you can live completely for the rest of your life. But to die is hard work - not to die through disease and old age, that is not hard work at all. That is inevitable, it is what we are all going to do, and you cushion yourself against it in innumerable ways. But if you die so that you are living fully in this hour, you will find there is an enormous vitality, a tremendous attention to everything because this is the only hour you are living. You look at this spring of life because you will never see it again; you see the smile, the tears, you feel the earth, you feel the quality of a tree, you feel the love that has no continuity and no object. Then you will find that in this total attention the `me' is not, and that the mind, being empty, can renew itself. Then the mind is fresh, innocent, and such a mind lives eternally beyond time. February 20, 1957 BOMBAY 5TH PUBLIC TALK 24TH FEBRUARY 1957 As life is so complicated, it seems to me that one must approach it with great simplicity. Life is a vast complex of struggle, of misery, of passing joys and, perhaps for some, the pleasurable continuity of a satisfaction they have known. Confronted with this extraordinarily intricate process which we call existence, surely we must approach it very simply; because it is the simple mind that really understands the problem, not the sophisticated mind, not the mind that is burdened with knowledge. If we want to understand something very complex we must approach it very simply, and therein lies our difficulty; because we always approach our problems with assertions, with assumptions or conclusions, and so we are never free to approach them with the humility they demand. And may I point out that this talk will be utterly futile if we listen to what is being said merely on the verbal or intellectual level, because mere verbal or intellectual listening has no significance when we are confronted with immense problems. So let us try to listen, for the time being at least, not just on the verbal level, or with certain conclusions at which the mind may have arrived, but with a sense of humility so that you and I can explore together this whole problem of knowledge. The undoing of knowledge is the fundamental revolution; the undoing of knowledge is the beginning of humility. Only the mind that is humble can understand what is true and what is false, and is therefore capable of eschewing the false and pursuing that which is true. But most of us approach life with knowledge - knowledge being what we have learnt, what we have been taught, and what we have gathered in the incidents and accidents of life. This knowledge becomes our background, our conditioning; it shapes our thoughts, it makes us conform to the pattern of what has been. If we would understand anything, we must approach it with humility; and it is knowledge that makes us un-humble. I wonder if you have noticed that when you know, you have ceased to examine what is. When you already know, you are not living at all. It is the mind that is undoing what it has gathered, that is actually and not merely intellectually dissipating what it has known - it is only such a mind that is capable of understanding. And for most of us, knowledge becomes the authority, the guide which keeps us within the sanctuary of society, within the frontiers of respectability. Knowledge is the centre from which we judge, evaluate, from which we condemn, accept or reject. Now, is it possible for the mind to free itself from knowledge? Can that self-centre, which is essentially the accumulation of knowledge, be dissolved, so that the mind is really humble, innocent, and therefore capable of perceiving what is truth? After all, what is it that we know? We know only facts, or what we have been taught about facts. When I examine and ask myself, "What is it that I really know?", I see that I actually know only what has been taught me, a technique, a profession, plus the information which I have acquired in the everyday relationship, of challenge and response. Apart from that, what do I know, what do you know? What we know is obviously what we have been taught, or what we have gathered from books and from environmental influences. This accumulation of what we have acquired or been taught reacts to the environment, thereby further strengthening the background of what we call knowledge. So, can the mind, which has been put together through knowledge, undo what it has gathered and thereby remove authority altogether? Because it is the authority of knowledge that gives us arrogance, vanity, and there is humility only when that authority is removed, not theoretically but actually, so that I can approach this whole complex process of existence with a mind that does not know. And is it possible for the mind to free itself from that which it has known? We can see that there is a great deal of tyranny in the world, and that tyranny is spreading; there is compulsion, there is misery, both physically and inwardly, and the constant threat of war; and with such a world there must obviously be some kind of radical change in our thinking. But most of us regard action as more important than thought; we want to know what to do about all these complex problems, and we are more concerned with right action than with the process of thinking which will produce right action. Now, the process of thinking obviously cannot be made new as long as one starts thinking from any assumption, from any conclusion. So I must ask myself, as you must ask yourself, whether it is possible for the mind to undo the knowledge it has gathered; because knowledge becomes authority, which produces arrogance, and with that arrogance and vanity we consciously or unconsciously look at life, and therefore we never approach anything with humility. I know because I have learnt, I have experienced, I have gathered, or I guide my thought and activity in terms of some ideology to which I conform. So gradually I build up this whole process of authority in myself: the authority of the experiencer, of the one who knows. And my problem is: Can I who have gathered so much knowledge, who have learnt so much, who have had so many experiences - can I undo all that? Because there is no possibility of a radical change without the undoing of knowledge. The very undoing of knowledge is the beginning of such a change, is it not? What do we mean by `change'? Is change merely a movement from the knowledge I have accumulated to other fields of knowing, to new assumptions and ideologies projected from the past? This is generally what we mean by `change', is it not? When I say I must change, I think in terms of changing to something I already know. When I say I must be good, I have an idea, a formulation, a concept of what it is to be good. But that is not the flowering of goodness. The flowering of goodness comes only when I understand the process and the accumulation of knowledge, and in the undoing of what I know. Then there is the possibility of a revolution, a radical change. But merely to move from the known to the known is no change at all. I hope I am making myself clear; because you and I do need to change radically, in a tremendous, revolutionary way. It is an obvious fact that we cannot go on as we are. The crisis and the appalling things that are taking place in the world demand that the individual approach all these problems from a totally different point of view, with a totally different heart and mind. That is why I must understand how to bring about in myself this radical change. And I see that I can change only when I am undoing what I have known. The disentangling of the mind from knowledge is in itself a radical change, because then the mind is humble; and that very humility brings about an action which is totally new. As long as the mind is acquiring, comparing, thinking in terms of the `more', it is obviously incapable of action which is new. And can I who am envious, acquisitive, change completely, so that my mind is no longer acquiring, comparing, competing? To put it differently, can my mind empty itself, and in that very process of emptying itself discover the action which is new? So, is it possible to bring about a fundamental change which is not the outcome of an action of will, which is not merely the result of influence, pressure? Change based on influence, pressure, on an action of will, is no change at all. That is obvious if you s go into it. And if I feel the necessity of a complete, radical change within myself, I must surely inquire into the process of knowledge, which forms the centre from which all experience takes place. Do you understand? There is a centre in each one of us which is the result of experience, of knowledge, of memory, and according to that centre we act, we `change', and the very undoing of that centre, the very dissolution of that `me', of that self, of that process of accumulation brings about a radical change. But that demands the hard work which is involved in self-knowledge. I must know myself as I am, not as I think I should be; I must know myself as the centre from which I am acting, from which I am thinking, the centre which is made up of accumulated knowledge, of assumptions, of past experience, all of which is preventing an inward revolution, a radical transformation of myself. And as we have so many complexities in the world at the present time, with so many superficial changes going on, it is necessary that there should be this radical change in the individual; for it is only the individual, and not the collective, that can bring about a new world. Looking at all this, is it possible for you and me as two individuals to change, not superficially but radically, so that there is the dissolution of that centre from which all vanity, all sense of authority springs, that centre which actively accumulates, that centre which is made up of knowledge, experience, memory? This is a question that cannot be answered verbally. I put it only in order to awaken your thinking, your inquiry, so that you will start on the journey alone. Because you cannot start on this journey with the help of another, you cannot have a guru to tell you what to do, what to seek. If you are told, then you are no longer on this journey. But can you not start on this journey of inquiry alone, without the accumulation of knowledge which prevents further inquiry? In order to inquire, the mind must be free of knowledge. If there is any pressure behind the inquiry, then the inquiry is not straight, it becomes crooked, and that is why it is so essential to have a mind that is really humble, a mind that says, "I do not know, I will inquire", and that never gathers in the process of inquiring. The moment you gather you have a centre, and that centre always influences your inquiry. So, can the mind inquire without accumulating, without gathering, without emphasizing the centre through the authority of knowledge? And if it can, then what is the state of such a mind? Do you understand? What is the state of the mind that is really inquiring? Surely, its state is that of emptiness. I do not know if you have ever experienced what it is to be completely alone, without any pressure, without any motive or influence, without the idea of the past and the future. To be completely alone is entirely different from loneliness. There is loneliness when the centre of accumulation feels cut off in its relations with another. I am not talking of that feeling of loneliness. I am talking of the aloneness in which the mind is not contaminated because it has understood the process of contamination, which is accumulation. And when the mind is totally alone because through self-knowledge it has understood the centre of accumulation, then you will find that, being empty, uninfluenced, the mind is capable of action which is not related to ambition, to envy, or to any of the conflicts that we know. Such a mind, being indifferent in the sense that it is not seeking a result, is capable of living with compassion. But such a state of mind is not to be acquired, it is not to be developed. It comes into being through self-knowledge, through knowing yourself - not some enormous, greater self, but the little self that is envious, greedy, petty, angry, vicious. What is necessary is.to know the whole of that mind which is your little self. To go very far you must begin very near, and the near is you, the `you' that you must understand. And as you begin to understand, you will see that there is a dissolution of knowledge, so that the mind becomes totally alert, aware, empty, without that centre; and only such a mind is capable of receiving that which is truth. Question: I am a student. Before I heard you I was keen about my studies and making a good career for myself. But now it all seems so futile, and I have completely lost interest in my studies and in a career. What you Jay seems very attractive, but it is impossible to attain. All this has left me very confused. What am I to do? Krishnamurti: Sir, have I made you confused? Have I made you see that what you are doing is futile? If I have been the cause of your confusion, then you are not confused, because when I go away you will revert to your former confusion or your clarity. But if this questioner is serious, then what has actually taken place is that by listening to what has been said here he has awakened himself to his own activities; he now sees that what he is doing, studying to build up a career for the future, is rather empty, without much significance. So he says, "What am I to do?" He is confused, not because I have made him confused, but because by listening he has become aware of the world situation, and of his own condition and relationship with the world. He has become aware of the futility, the uselessness of all this business of building up a future career. He has become aware of it, I have not made him aware. Sir, I think this is the first thing to realize: that by listening, by watching, by observing your own activities, you have made this discovery for yourself; therefore it is yours, not mine. If it were mine, I would take it away with me when I go. But this is something that cannot be taken away by another because it has been realized by you. You have watched yourself in action, you have observed your own life, and you now see that to build up a career for the future is a futile thing. So, being confused, you say, "What am I to do?" What are you to do, actually? You have to go on with your studies, have you not? That is obvious, because you have to have some kind of profession, a right means of livelihood. Do you understand? Please do listen to this, sirs. You have to earn a livelihood through a right means. And law is obviously not a right means, because it maintains society as it is, a society which is based on acquisitiveness, on greed, on envy, on authority and exploitation, and which is therefore in turmoil within itself. So law is not the profession for a man who is at all serious in religious matters; nor can he become a policeman or a soldier. Soldiering is obviously a or a soldier. Soldiering is obviously a profession of killing, and there is no difference between defence and offence. A soldier is prepared to kill, and the function of a general is to prepare for war. So, if those three are not right professions, then what are you to do? You have to think it out, have you not? You have to find out for yourself what you really want to do, and not rely on your father, on your grandmother, on some professor, or on anybody else to tell you what to do. And what does it mean to find out what you really want to do? It means finding out what you love to do, does it not? When you love what you are doing, you are not ambitious, you are not greedy, you are not seeking fame, because that very love of what you are doing is totally sufficient in itself. In that love there is no frustration, because you are no longer seeking fulfilment. But you see, all this demands a great deal of thinking, a great deal of inquiry, meditation, and unfortunately the pressure of the world is very strong - the world being your parents, your grandparents, the society around you. They all want you to be a successful man, they want you to fit into the established pattern, so they educate you to conform. But the whole structure of society is based on acquisitiveness, on envy, on ruthless self-assertion, on the aggressive activity of each one of us; and if you see for yourself, actually and not theoretically, that such a society must inevitably rot from within, then you will find your own way of action through doing what you love to do. It may produce a conflict with the present society - and why not? A religious man, or the man who is seeking truth, is in revolt against the society which is based essentially on respectability, acquisitiveness and the ambitious search for power. He is not in conflict with society, but society is in conflict with him. Society can never accept him. Society can only make him a saint and worship him - and thereby destroy him. So the student who has been listening is now confused. But if he does not escape from that confusion by running off to a cinema, by going to a temple, by reading a book, or by turning to a guru, and realizes how his confusion has arisen; if he faces that confusion and in the process of inquiry does not conform to the pattern of society, then he will be a truly religious man. And such religious men are necessary, for it is they who will bring about a new world. Question: To you the observation of thought or feeling within consciousness seems to be a state of complete objectivity. How is this possible? Can you separate a thought or a feeling from the matrix of thought? Krishnamurti: Let me explain the question as far as I understand it. Thought is part of consciousness; thinking, feeling, is part of the mind. What we think and feel - the contradictions, the tensions, the ambitions, the greed, the aspirations, the desire to be powerful, the fulfilment and frustration - is all within the field which we call consciousness. Consciousness is like a single piece of cloth; and the questioner asks me, "How can you separate one thought or one feeling from this complex field of consciousness and examine it objectively, go right to the end of it without any distortion? Is that possible?" Now, you will find out whether it is possible or not by listening to what I am going to explain. The explanation is merely verbal; but we are going into the problem together, and this is meditation, real meditation, and therefore it is hard work. It requires enormous attention to separate one thought, or one feeling, and pursue it till it is understood, dissolved, without letting any other thought or feeling, any other pressure interfere. And can we do it? It is like following a single thread in a large piece of cloth from the beginning right through to the end of it. Have you ever tried it? To follow that thread demands not only visual attention, but the attention of your mind and heart, of your whole being, otherwise you will lose it. And what we are now going to do is like that, it requires hard work, close attention - not the attention of narrowness, not the concentration which is exclusion, but an objectivity of following in which there is an awareness of everything. I do not know if you follow all this. No, I am afraid you don't. Sirs, I am going to approach it in another way. There is a feeling, and a feeling is a thought as well as a desire. Desire, feeling and thought are not separate units, they are interrelated, and therefore they are extraordinarily vital. They are a living thing, and my attention must be equally living, vital, to follow them. So, can I look at a desire, at a thought, at a feeling, and go to the very end of it? Let us take the desire, the feeling, the thought which we term `envy'. Envy is not merely the jealousy you feel because your neighbour is more beautiful than you are, or has a bigger house. That is only part of envy. Envy is the desire for the `more', for more knowledge, more experience; it is the sense of comparison which says, "I am this and I must become that". Envy is the feeling of becoming: becoming virtuous, becoming noble, becoming a saint, achieving enlightenment. All that is envy. Now, we are going to follow envy as you would follow a thread in the cloth. Envy is in operation, it is a living thing so I must pay complete attention, not only at the superficial, conscious level, but also at the unconscious level; because the unconscious, with all its traditional and racial inheritance, is based on envy. I have been taught to achieve, to fulfil, to become, and all that is part of envy. So, can I folLow envy step by step in myself, objectively, and see what its relationship is to the whole? And can I also examine it by itself? I hope this is not too difficult or abstract. It is not, really, because if the mind is to be free of envy, it has to go through all this. And the mind must be free of envy, because if it is envious there can be no understanding of truth. The understanding of truth requires humility, and as long as the mind is envious, as long as it wants to become a governor, an executive, a banker, a Master, or what you will, it is not humble. So, can your mind, which is the matrix in which all thought-feeling is held, separate the one feeling of envy and pursue it? You know what it is to be envious. I have described it, and it is what you are. Though you may not acknowledge it, though you may find excuses for it, you are envious. That is obvious. And can you pursue that feeling of envy right to the end? We are going to do it as I talk, so please follow this. I am fully conversant with the fact that I am envious; there is no excuse. I do not justify or condemn it. There it is. It is as factual as this microphone and is observed as objectively. So my mind has separated that feeling, that desire which it has termed `envy', and is capable of watching it in action. That is, my mind is aware of its envy when it sees a car, or a beautiful person, or a man who is erudite; therefore it is able to observe the absurdity of becoming and follow all the implications of envy. Now, can my mind be without comparison? Can it function without the thought of the `more' and yet not vegetate? Most of us say, "If I do not compete, learn, struggle to become something, I shall vegetate, I shall go to pieces, disintegrate". But my question now is: Can my mind be without envy, without the struggle to become something, and yet be extraordinarily active, very alert? I see how my mind has always operated on this thought, this feeling, this desire which it calls envy. My mind invariably approaches it with condemnation or justification. But I now see that if I want to understand something, there must be no condemnation, no justification; so condemnation and justification have ceased. I also see that by naming the feeling, giving it the term `envy', I am condemning it, because that very word `envy' is condemnatory. So, can my mind separate the word from the feeling? Is that possible? Because the moment the mind has a feeling, that feeling is immediately named. If you observe you will see that the feeling and the naming are almost simultaneous. And the real part of meditation is for the mind to separate the word from the feeling -which is hard work, it demands close attention - so that the feeling remains without the verbalization. You verbalize a feeling in order to recognize it, and for various other reasons. Naming it establishes the feeling in the mind, which is the process of recognition; therefore, by recognition, the new feeling has become the old feeling. A feeling is always new, but we verbalize it in order to establish it in the old, in order to recollect and communicate it. But we won't go into all that now. So I now have the feeling, the desire, the thought which is called `envy', separated from the matrix of all thoughts. I see the implications of envy, both inwardly and socially. Then I see how extraordinarily difficult it is for the mind to free the naming from the feeling, because they are practically simultaneous. So, is it possible for the mind to separate the word from the feeling? And if it is, then what happens to the feeling when this is done? If the mind no longer identifies that feeling with a word, the feeling does not remain; then there is a totally different kind of movement in that feeling. Most of us know a feeling only through the process of verbalization and recognition. By recognition we either put an end to that feeling, or we give it a continuity. If it is a pleasurable feeling we say, "How nice, I want more of it; but if it is ugly we condemn it. Whereas, if we do not name either the pleasurable feeling or the ugly feeling, then there is only the feeling - and that is essential, because it is by pursuing the pleasurable and denying the ugly that the mind becomes insensitive, incapable of feeling. And it is this feeling, this impulse which is not related to verbalization, that is new. I wonder if you have ever noticed that every feeling is new if you do not term it? It is the naming of the feeling that makes the feeling old, and then you have destroyed the impulse. The impulse is the new, but it is made old by recognizing, by naming. Sirs, as I said, this is a very difficult thing to do. When you go home, experiment by taking a piece of cloth and seeing if you can follow one thread to the end; follow it not merely visually, but with all your attention. Try it and you will see how very difficult it is. Similarly, it is extraordinarily hard work for the mind to follow one thought, one feeling, one desire right to the end without distortion, without any deviation; because, as I was explaining earlier in the talk, it is knowledge as the word that destroys the new. The word, which is knowledge, is the old; and the moment you recognize a feeling, you have already made it into the old, because to recognize is to name it. You cannot recognize something unless you have already known it. When there is a feeling, the mind immediately labels it, and so makes that feeling into the old. But if you do not name it - and not to name a feeling is astonishingly difficult, it is really hard work and demands great attention, meditation, tremendous alertness - , then you will see that the feeling is entirely new, it is not to be recognized; and a feeling which is new has its own movement, its own activity. So the mind is capable of separating one thought, one feeling one desire, from the matrix of consciousness. February 24, 1957 BOMBAY 6TH PUBLIC TALK 3RD MARCH 1957 I think it would be a waste of time. and utterly futile if we merely listened to all these talks either to refute or to accept Intellectually any statements that are made. But if we can directly experience what is being said, that is, if one is able to follow the operations of one's own mind, then I think these talks will be really worth while. Because we are concerned, not with abstractions and idealizations, but with ordinary daily living, with all its sorrows, pains and pleasures; and it seems to me that what is important is to bring about, sanely and rationally, a radical change in our daily existence, and that merely to cling to theories, to ideologies, or make intellectual assertions, is utterly futile and has no value at all in a world that demands on the part of each individual a direct, responsible action. To bring about a radical change in our daily living, we must surely understand the whole process of becoming as distinct from being. All our thinking and activity is based on becoming, is it not? I am using that word `becoming' very simply, not philosophically but in the ordinary sense of wanting to become something either in this world or in the so-called spiritual world. If we can understand this process of wanting to become some thing, then I think we shall have understood what sorrow is; because it is the desire to become that gives to the mind the soil in which sorrow can grow. And as our lives, with rare moments of happiness, are filled with anguish, sorrow, pain, fear, with every form of conscious and unconscious conflict, I think it is important to understand this whole issue of becoming. In our desire to become, we give importance to secondary things like politics, social reform, ideologies, and to. the various forms of organized religion which offer comfort through the process of becoming. After all, that is what we are doing, is it not? We are struggling to become something, either politically or socially, outwardly or inwardly. We have never a moment when there is no becoming and only being - that being which is nothing. But that being which is nothing cannot possibly be understood if we do not fully grasp the significance of becoming. All comparative thinking is a form of becoming. Envy, ambition, and the various kinds of fulfilment with there frustrations, are essentially a process of becoming, through which sorrow takes root in the mind. Again, the word `sorrow' is not a philosophical term, but one which we all understand; and we cannot be free of sorrow until we understand this process of becoming. All of us are trying in different ways to become something: more noble, less greedy, non-violent; we are trying to fulfil ourselves through work, through God, through family, through property, through identification with an idea, and so on. In innumerable ways we are trying to become something, to fulfil ourselves, and I think in this process lies the whole web of sorrow. Being caught in that web we say, "How am I to get rid of sorrow?" We are only concerned with getting rid of sorrow, and we do not understand the process of becoming. Now, why is it that all of us in different ways have persisted through centuries in this path of becoming? Why does each one of us want to be something? If I am ugly, I want to be beautiful; if I am stupid, I want to be clever; if I am envious, I want to be free from envy. So there is a constant battle between what I am and what I think I should be. The `should be' is the aim of every person who wants to become, and in this process there is infinite struggle, pain, fear, frustration. And seeing this process, being aware that my mind is caught in the web of sorrow, how am I to be free from sorrow? When we put that question to ourselves, most of us say, "I must discipline myself against desire, against envy". We don't see that resistance is another form of becoming, and that though resistance we are giving importance to secondary issues. That is, being in sorrow, I try in various ways to escape from the pain of sorrow, and in escaping I give importance secondary issues. The escape, which is the secondary issue, offers a means of fulfilment without eradicating sorrow. Look at what is happening in the world. Secondary issues - like politics, like social reform, or the identification of oneself with reformatory movement - are assuming primary values in our life. Why? Is it not because they offer to the individual a means of fulfilling himself? That is they offer a way in which I can become something though I continue to create sorrow around me and in myself. The urge to become something, this egotistic desire to expand is so strong, so vital, that it must find ways and means of expressing itself, and that is why the secondary issues dominate our present-day existence. Every morning the newspapers are full of these secondary issues, and the noise they make drowns out the whisper of the primary, which is something totally different. The primary is the understanding of the not-becoming, of the being which is nothing -that nothing which is truth, reality, God, or what you will, shows itself in its totality. But the mind that is seeking in different ways to become, to fulfil - through memory, through identification with the family, with the country, with an ideology - can never find the other; and with out the other, all ideologies, political activates and reformatory movements only breed further sorrow, further confusion. We don't seem to realize this, because we are always concerned with the immediate satisfaction, the immediate fulfilment of ourselves through secondary issues. So, if we are at all aware of ourselves, we will see how important in our lives certain movements, certain activities, certain ideologies and economic theories have become. And it is important to understand these things as secondary values, for then perhaps we shall approach them with a different feeling, that is, without the desire to become. There is a religious revolution which takes place in the individual when there is no becoming of any kind, that is, when I inwardly see the fact of what I am without any form of distortion: the fact that I am envious, acquisitive, Utterly lacking in humility. If I am aware of the fact of what I am and do not approach it with an opinion, with a judgment, with an evaluation - because opinion, judgment and evaluation are based on the intention of transforming the fact, which is the desire to become something - then that fact itself brings about a transformation in which there is no becoming at all. To be aware of the fact that one is envious without condemning it, is extraordinarily difficult, because the very word `envy' has a condemnatory significance. But if you can free the mind from that condemnatory evaluation, if you can be aware of the feeling without identifying the feeling with the word, then you will find that there is no longer the urge to change it into something else. A feeling without verbalization, without evaluation, has no quality of becoming. And you will also find that when there is a feeling without verbalization, there is no desire for its fulfilment. There is a desire for the fulfilment of a feeling only when there is identification of that feeling with a word, with an evaluation. So it is becoming that gives soil to the root of sorrow; and if you go into it very deeply, really think it out so that the mind frees itself from the whole process of becoming, then you will find that you have eliminated sorrow altogether. It is only such a mind that is concerned with the primary, which is reality, and because it is concerned with the primary, its action on the secondary will have its own significance. Merely to be concerned with the secondary will never lead to the primary. It is like putting a room in order, cleaning and decorating the room, all of which is essential; but it has no meaning without that which comes into the room. Similarly, virtue is essential. A mind that is virtuous, austere, has put itself in order; and the mind must have order, it must have clarity. But order, clarity, humility, austerity, have no significance in themselves; they have significance only because the mind that has them is: capable of proceeding without the experiencer who is gathering further experience, and therefore there is no becoming but only being. That is, the mind is completely empty of all ideas based on the experiencer, on the thinker, on the observer who is always becoming. It is only in emptying the mind of this whole process of becoming that there is being, which has its own movement unrelated to becoming; and a man who, while becoming, seeks that state of being, will never find it. The man who is pursuing ambition, fulfilment, who desires to become something, will never find reality, God. He may read all the sacred books, do puja every day, go to all the temples in the world, but sorrow will be his shadow. So it seems to me very important to understand in oneself this process of becoming - and such understanding is essentially self-knowledge. Self-knowledge is the understanding of becoming, which is the `me; and without that understanding, the mind can never be empty and hence free to understand the real, which is something totally different. But when there is understanding of the real, then you will find that our social activities, our political actions, our everyday relationships with each other, have an entirely different quality. Then they will not be the soil in which sorrow can grow and flourish. It is very important, then, for a religious man to understand himself, the `himself' who is always pursuing the path of becoming; and when, through self-knowledge, becoming ceases, there is within him a religious revolution. This is the only revolution that can bring about a different world in every way -economically, politically, and in our ,social relationships. To understand reality, effort is not necessary. Effort exists only when there is a becoming, that is, when I use discipline as a means of attainment, of reaching happiness, and hence there is a struggle to achieve, to fulfil, which is a process of resistance. All that is the path of becoming, in which there is sorrow; and a man who would understand reality must be free of this path of becoming, not verbally or ideologically, but actually. He must understand this whole problem through self-knowledge. When the mind is free from becoming, you will find that it has an extraordinary activity of its own, an activity which ,cannot be verbalized, which cannot be described or communicated to another; and that activity is reality, it is the movement of creation itself. There are three questions this evening, and as I have explained, I am not going to answer these questions, because life has no answers. Life must be lived, and a man who merely sits on the bank wanting to swim, who only asks a question in order to receive an answer, is not living. But if you are living, you will find the answer at every step, and that is why it is very important to understand the problem itself and not seek an answer, a solution to the problem. Question: Reality has been defined as SATYAM, SHIVAM, SUNDARAM, or truth, goodness and beauty. All religious teachers have stressed truth and goodness. What place has beauty in the experiencing of reality? Krishnamurti: Is there a difference, between goodness, truth and beauty? Are they three different things, or really one thing which can be called by these three different names? To understand truth, goodness, or beauty, we have tried to suppress desire, to discipline, control, or find a substitute for desire. Finding that desire is tremendously active, volcanic in its operation, and that it brings extraordinary sorrow, pain and joy, we say we must be free of desire. That is what all religions have maintained, that we must be free of desire in order to find truth, beauty, goodness; so for centuries we have proceeded to suppress desire, and in the very suppression of desire we have lost sensitivity to goodness, to truth, to beauty. What is beauty? It is really a very complex question, and books have been written about it. But if you and I, who are simple people, not erudite or scholarly, want to find out what beauty is, how are we to set about it? How am I to find out what beauty is, not verbally or theoretically, but actually to experience the feeling of that extraordinary thing called beauty? Most of us know only the beauty that has been made up or put together, do we not? For most of us, beauty is a reaction, a response. And I am asking myself: Is there a feeling which may be termed beauty, goodness, or truth, and which is not a response, not merely a reaction? I see that tree and I say, "How lovely it is". The tree is something that has been created, and I respond to it, I say it is beautiful and pass by. Similarly, I see that building, which again is something that has been put together, and I say, "How ugly it is". That also is a response. And is beauty merely a response, a reaction to something which has been created? Or is there a state of mind which may be called beauty and which is not the result of a reaction? After all, our minds are the result of reaction, of challenge and inadequate response to challenge, and therefore there is struggle, there is pain. On this whole process the mind is based, extensively or very narrowly; and when I see a tree a bird, a nice-looking person, a child, or when I see poverty, squalor, ugly buildings, I say "How beautiful!" or "How ugly!" depending on my reaction and on the kind of attention I give. When I am fully attentive, in that full attention is there a reaction? And is there attention when there is an object of attention? Do you understand, sirs, or is this too complex? I don't think it is complex if you follow it carefully. As I have said, attention with an object is no attention at all, because the object absorbs you. But if I am fully attentive, with the totality of my being, then in that state is there a reaction? In that state is there what is called the beautiful and the ugly? After all, there is ideological beauty, the beauty laid down by the ideal, and there is the beauty of experience, the essence of experience. Now, I am asking myself - and I think it is a legitimate question - , is there a state in which the mind is fully aware of and understands its own reaction to beauty as well as to ugliness, and does not call it beautiful or ugly because it is giving that complete attention in which there is the totality of experience? And in that state of total attention, is there an entity who says, "I have experienced beauty" or "I have experienced ugliness", or is there only a feeling, an experiencing which is not a reaction, not the result of a cause? So, can the mind - without losing its sensitivity to the ugliness and to the beauty created by man in a building or in a statue -experience that totality of attention in which it does not create the beautiful and the ugly? Do you understand? Surely, it is only the mind that is in conflict, that is caught up in its own desires, in its own fulfilments and frustrations - it is only such a mind that creates what is called the beautiful and the ugly. Sirs, as I said, this is a very complex question, and to understand really, not merely verbally, what is beauty, or goodness, or truth, the mind must be empty of the word and its reaction to that word. Then you will find that there is a totality of experience, and not an experiencer who is experiencing the totality. In that state there is a creativeness which has nothing to do with the creations of a contradictory mind which must find a release through building, through architecture, through the writing of poems, essays, and so on. Listening to all this, you may say, "Are you not talking in order to find release, in order to fulfil?" I don't think so, because the truly religious man is not seeking fulfilment. As I explained, fulfilment is the soil in which sorrow grows. Question: To you, love is the solvent of all human problems. I have no love, and yet I have to live. But love can never be cultivated. Does this mean that my problems can never be solved? Krishnamurti: We will come to the feeling of what love is if we understand how we live. Most of us want a definition of love, or we seek that state of love which we call universal, cosmic, godly, and all the rest of it, without understanding our daily existence. Don't we know in our daily living any kind of friendliness, kindliness, gentleness? Are we never generous, compassionate? Have we never the feeling of being good to another without motive, have we never a sense of great humility? Are not these the expressions of love? And when you love another, is there not a total feeling in which the `I' is non-existent? What generally happens is that we identify ourselves with another, or with a family, with a nation, with a party or an ideology, and in this identification of ourselves with something, there is an intensity of feeling, of action; but we have not really forgotten ourselves. On the contrary, through identification we have expanded ourselves. The movement the party, the ideology, the church, or whatever it be with which the mind has identified itself, is an extension of the `I'. The man who has consciously or unconsciously identified himself with something, has no love, though he may talk of love. When you talk about loving your country, you don't love the country, which is made up of people, human beings; what you love is the idea of the country with which you have identified yourself, and for which you are willing to kill, to die. So, when the mind consciously or unconsciously identifies itself with something - with a movement, with a party, with an ideology, with a family, with a religion, with a guru - , such a mind is incapable of loving; and I think it is very important to understand this, because good people get lost through identification, and they don't see the falseness of it. And if the identification which we call love, is not love, then what is love? Surely, love is the state of mind in which the `me' has no importance. To love is to be friendly. Do you understand, sirs? When you love you have no enmity, you cause no enmity. And you do cause enmity when you belong to religions, to countries, to political parties. When you have a great deal of land, immense wealth, while others have little or nothing, you cause enmity, though you may go to temples, or build temples with your wealth. You have no friendliness when you are seeking position, power, prestige. Yes, you will all nod your heads and agree with me, but you are going to pursue your ancient ways; and the tragedy is, not that you have no love, but that you have no understanding of the ways of your own life, you do not see the significance of the way you are actually living. If you understood that, really felt it, then you would be generous. Surely, the generosity of the hand and of the heart is the beginning of friendliness; and where there is friendliness, there is no need for justice by law. Where there is friendliness there is goodness, a compassion without motive. You have been friendly occasionally, when you were not thinking about yourself, when you were not so concerned about your own country, your own problems. And when you go beyond all that, there comes something entirely different - a state in which the mind is compassionate and yet indifferent. We know indifference in the sense of detachment, which is the result of calculation; it is an act thought out by the mind in order to protect itself from pain. We also know the indifference of a mind which says, "I have been through a great deal of pain, misery, and now I am going to be indifferent". Again, that is an action of will. But I am talking of an indifference which is totally unrelated to the intellectual indifference brought about by a mind that wishes to resist pain. There is an indifference which is the outcome of compassion; the mind is compassionate and yet indifferent. Have you ever felt that way? When you see something in pain you help it, and yet you are indifferent in the very process of helping. But what is it that we generally do? We feel compassionate because we see suffering, and we want to change things, bring about a reform, so we are full of action; but the mind is so bent on producing a result that it loses the sense of compassion. So, if you observe yourself, the functioning of your own mind, you will find that all these things exist in your daily life. You know moments of compassion, moments of love, of generosity, but they are very rare. All our calculated actions are based on this process of becoming something important, and only the mind that is free from becoming can know that love which is the solvent of our many problems. Question: If, as you say, God or reality is beyond the mind, then has God any relationship to my everyday life? Krishnamurti: Sir, what is our everyday life, not theoretically or ideologically, but actually? It is confused, miserable, ambitious, envious, stupid, is it not? We quote a lot of books containing the experiences of others about which we know nothing, we repeat what we have been taught, we struggle, suffer, and occasionally there is a movement of joy which is gone before we can feel the depth of it. That is our life: a vain process of lying, cheating, trying to become something important, struggling to dominate, to suppress. And do you think such a life has anything to do with reality, with goodness, with beauty, with God, with something which is not man-made? Yet, knowing what our daily life is, we want to bring that reality into it, so we go to temples, we read the sacred books, we talk about God, we say that we are seeking salvation, and so on. We want to bring that immensity, that which is measureless, into the measurable. And is such a thing possible? Do you see how the mind deceives itself? Can you bring the unknown, that which cannot be experienced, into the conditioned, into the realm of the known? Obviously not. So don't try it. Don't try to find God, truth, for it has no meaning. All you can do is to observe the operation of your own mind, which is the area of conflict, misery, suffering, ambition, fulfilment, frustration. That you can understand, and its narrow borders can be broken down. But you are not interested in that. You want to capture God and put him in the cage of what you know, the cage you call the temple, the book, the guru, the system, and with that you are satisfied. By doing that you think you are becoming very religious. You are not. You are just hypocrites, robbing, cheating, lying within the cage. So, a man who is aware of all this is not concerned with reality, with the immeasurable, the unknowable; he is concerned with the ending of envy, with the ending of sorrow, with the ending of this whole process of becoming. That you can do - you can do it every day by being alert to your envy, watchful of the way you talk, the way you show respect which is no respect, the way you acquire, accumulate. Through self-knowledge the mind can liberate itself from its limitations, its conditioning, and this liberating of itself from conditioning is meditation. Do not try to meditate on reality, because you cannot; that is an impossibility. Meditation on God has no meaning. How can a mind which is conditioned, small, petty, envious, meditate on something unknowable? All the mind can do is to free itself from the known - the known of everything that you have been taught, of your ambitions, your identifications, your greeds. Freeing the mind from the memory of all this, is meditation. And when the mind is free, then you will find that there comes an extraordinary quietness, a stillness in which there is no experiencer who is always measuring, remembering, calculating, desiring. Then the mind is aware of something totally different, a state which is in itself a blessing, which has within itself a movement that has no centre and therefore no beginning and no ending. A mind that is capable of this total attention without the entity who is experiencing what is taking place, will find there is a reality, a goodness, a beauty which is not a reaction, which is not an opposite, which is without a cause, and is therefore something in itself. But the realization of that immensity cannot come about unless the mind is totally empty of the known. March 3, 1957 Three Pious Egoists Identification Gossip And Worry Thought And Love Aloneness And Isolation Pupil And Master The Rich And The Poor Ceremonies And Conversion Knowledge Respectability Politics Experiencing Virtue Simplicity Of The Heart Facets Of The Individual Sleep Love In Relationship The Known And The Unknown The Search For Truth Sensitivity The Individual And Society The Self Belief Silence Renunciation Of Riches Repetition And Sensation The Radio And Music Authority Meditation Anger Psychological Security Separateness Power Sincerity Fulfilment Words Idea And Fact Continuity Self-defence My Path And Your Path Awareness Loneliness Consistency Action And Idea Life In A City Obsession The Spiritual Leader Stimulation Problems And Escapes What Is And What Should Be Contradiction Jealousy Spontaneity The Conscious And The Unconscious Challenge And Response Possessiveness Self-esteem Fear How Am I To Love The Futility Of Result The Desire For Bliss Thought And Consciousness Self-Sacrifice The Flame And The Smoke Occupation Of The Mind Cessation Of Thought Desire And Conflict Action Without Purpose Cause And Effect Dullness Clarity In Action Ideology Beauty Integration Fear And Escape Exploitation And Activity The Learned Or The Wise Stillness And Will Ambition Satisfaction Wisdom Is Not Accumulation Of Knowledge Distraction Time Suffering Sensation And Happiness To See The False As The False Security Work COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 1 'THREE PIOUS EGOISTS' THE OTHER DAY three pious egoists came to see me. The first was a sannyasi, a man who had renounced the world; the second was an orientalist and a great believer in brotherhood; and the third was a confirmed worker for a marvellous Utopia. Each of the three was strenuous in his own work and looked down on the others' attitudes and activities, and each was strengthened by his own conviction. Each was ardently attached to his particular form of belief, and all were in a strange way ruthless. They told me, especially the Utopian, that they were ready to deny or sacrifice themselves and their friends for what they believed. They appeared meek and gentle, particularly the man of brotherhood, but there was a hardness of heart and that peculiar intolerance which is characteristic of the superior. They were the chosen, the interpreters; they knew and were certain. The sannyasi said, in the course of a serious talk, that he was preparing himself for his next life. This life, he declared, had very little to offer him, for he had seen through all the illusions of worldliness and had forsaken worldly ways. He had some personal weaknesses and certain difficulties in concentration, he added, but in his next life he would be the ideal which he had set for himself. His whole interest and vitality lay in his conviction that he was to be something in his next life. We talked at some length, and his emphasis was always on the tomorrow, on the future. The past existed, he said, but always in relation to the future; the present was merely a passage to the future, and today was interesting only because of tomorrow. If there were no tomorrow, he asked, then why make an effort? One might just as well vegetate or be like the pacific cow. The whole of life was one continuous movement from the past through the momentary present to the future. We should use the present, he said, to be something in the future: to be wise, to be strong, to be compassionate. Both the present and the future were transient, but tomorrow ripened the fruit. He insisted that today is but a steppingstone, and that we should not be too anxious or too particular about it; we should keep clear the ideal of tomorrow and make the journey successfully. Altogether, he was impatient of the present. The man of brotherhood was more learned, and his language more poetic; he was expert in handling words, and was altogether suave and convincing. He too had carved a divine niche for himself in the future. He was to be something. This idea filled his heart, and he had gathered his disciples for that future. Death, he said, was a beautiful thing, for it brought one nearer to that divine niche which was making it possible for him to live in this sorrowful and ugly world. He was all for changing and beautifying the world, and was working ardently for the brotherhood of man. He considered that ambition, with its attendant cruelties and corruption, was inevitable in a world where you had to get things done; and unfortunately, if you wanted certain organizational activities carried on, you had to be a little bit on the hard side. The work was important because it was helping mankind, and anyone who opposed it had to be put aside - gently, of course. The organization for that work was of the utmost value and must not be hindered. "Others have their paths," he said, "but ours is essential, and anyone who interferes is not one of us." The Utopian was a strange mixture of the idealist and the practical man. His Bible was not the old but the new. He believed in the new implicitly. He knew the outcome of the future, for the new book foretold what it was to be. His plan was to confuse, organize and carry out. The present, he said, was corrupt, it must be destroyed, and out of this destruction the new would be built. The present was to be sacrificed for the future. The future man was all-important, not the present man. "We know how to create that future man," he said, "we can shape his mind and heart; but we must get into power to do any good. We will sacrifice ourselves and others to bring about a new state. Anyone who stands in the way we will kill, for the means is of no consequence; the end justifies any means.', For ultimate peace, any form of violence could be used; for ultimate individual freedom, tyranny in the present was inevitable. "When we have the power in our hands," he declared, "we will use every form of compulsion to bring about a new world without class distinctions, without priests. From our central thesis we will never move; we are fixed there, but our strategy and tactics will vary depending upon changing circumstances. We plan, organize and act to destroy the present man for the future man." The sannyasi, the man of brotherhood and the Utopian all live for tomorrow, for the future. They are not ambitious in the worldly sense, they do not want high honours, wealth or recognition; but they are ambitious in a much more subtle way. The Utopian has identified himself with a group which he thinks will have the power to reorient the world; the man of brotherhood aspires to be exalted, and the sannyasi to attain his goal. All are consumed with their own becoming, with their own achievement and expansion. They do not see that this desire denies peace, brotherhood and supreme happiness. Ambition in any form - for the group, for individual salvation, or for spiritual achievement - is action postponed. Desire is ever of the future; the desire to become is inaction in the present. The now has greater significance than the tomorrow. In the now is all time, and to understand the now is to be free of time. Becoming is the continuation of time, of sorrow. Becoming does not contain being. Being is always in the present, and being is the highest form of transformation. Becoming is merely modified continuity, and there is radical transformation only in the present, in being. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 2 'IDENTIFICATION' WHY do you identify yourself with another, with a group, with a country? Why do you call yourself a Christian, a Hindu, a Buddhist, or why do you belong to one of the innumerable sects? Religiously and politically one identifies oneself with this or with that group through tradition or habit, through impulse, prejudice, imitation and laziness. This identification puts an end to all creative understanding, and then one becomes a mere tool in the hands of the party boss, the priest or the favoured leader. The other day someone said that he was a "Krishnamurti-ite," whereas so-and-so belonged to another group. As he was saying it, he was utterly unconscious of the implications of this identification. He was not by any means a foolish person; he was well read. cultured and all the rest of it. Nor was he sentimental or emotional over the matter; on the contrary, he was clear and definite. Why had he become a "Krishnamurti-ite"? He had followed others, belonged to many wearisome groups and organizations, and at last found himself identified with this particular person. From what he said, it appeared that the journey was over. He had taken a stand and that was the end of the matter; he had chosen, and nothing could shake him. He would now comfortably settle down and follow eagerly all that had been said and was going to be said. When we identify ourselves with another, is that an indication of love? Does identification imply experimentation? Does not identification put an end to love and to experiment? Identification, surely, is possession, the assertion of ownership; and ownership denies love, does it not? To own is to be secure; possession is defence, making oneself invulnerable. In identification there is resistance, whether gross or subtle; and is love a form of self-protective resistance? Is there love when there is defence? Love is vulnerable, pliable, receptive; it is the highest form of sensitivity, and identification makes for insensitivity. Identification and love do not go together, for the one destroys the other. Identification is essentially a thought process by which the mind safeguards and expands itself; and in becoming something it must resist and defend, it must own and discard. In this process of becoming, the mind or the self grows tougher and more capable; but this is not love. Identification destroys freedom, and only in freedom can there be the highest form of sensitivity. To experiment, need there be identification? Does not the very act of identification put an end to inquiry, to discovery? The happiness that truth brings cannot be if there is no experimentation in self-discovery. Identification puts an end to discovery; it is another form of laziness. Identification is vicarious experience, and hence utterly false. To experience, all identification must cease. To experiment, there must be no fear. Fear prevents experience. It is fear that makes for identification - identification with another, with a group, with an ideology, and so on. Fear must resist, suppress; and in a state of self-defence, how can there be venturing on the uncharted sea? Truth or happiness cannot come without undertaking the journey into the ways of the self. You cannot travel far if you are anchored. Identification is a refuge. A refuge needs protection, and that which is protected is soon destroyed. Identification brings destruction upon itself, and hence the constant conflict between various identifications. The more we struggle for or against identification, the greater is the resistance to understanding. If one is aware of the whole process of identification, outward as well as inner, if one sees that its outward expression projected by the inner demand, then there is a possibility of discovery and happiness. He who has identified himself can never know freedom, in which alone all truth comes into being. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 3 'GOSSIP AND WORRY' HOW ODDLY SIMILAR are gossip and worry. They are both the outcome of a restless mind. A restless mind must have a changing variety of expressions and actions, it must be occupied; it must have ever increasing sensations, passing interests, and gossip contains the elements of all these. Gossip is the very antithesis of intensity and earnestness. To talk about another, pleasantly or viciously, is an escape from oneself, and escape is the cause of restlessness. Escape in its very nature is restless. Concern over the affairs of others seems to occupy most people, and this concern shows itself in the reading of innumerable magazines and newspapers with their gossip columns, their accounts of murders, divorces and so on. As we are concerned with what others think of us, so we are anxious to know all about them; and from this arise the crude and subtle forms of snobbishness and the worship of authority. Thus we become more and more externalized and inwardly empty. The more externalized we are, the more sensations and distractions there must be, and this gives rise to a mind that is never quiet, that is not capable of deep search and discovery. Gossip is an expression of a restless mind; but merely to be silent does not indicate a tranquil mind, Tranquillity does not come into being with abstinence or denial; it comes with the understanding of what is. To understand what is needs swift awareness, for what is is not static. If we did not worry, most of us would feel that we were not alive; to be struggling with a problem is for the majority of us an indication of existence. We cannot imagine life without a problem; and the more we are occupied with a problem, the more alert we think we are. The constant tension over a problem which thought itself has created only dulls the mind, making it insensitive and weary. Why is there the ceaseless preoccupation with a problem? Will worry resolve the problem? Or does the answer to the problem come when the mind is quiet? But for most people, a quiet mind is a rather fearsome thing; they are afraid to be quiet, for heaven knows what they may discover in themselves, and worry is a preventive. A mind that is afraid to discover must ever be on the defensive, and restlessness is its defence. Through constant strain, through habit and the influence of circumstances, the conscious layers of the mind have become agitated and restless Modern existence encourages this super- ficial activity and distraction, which is another form of self-defence. Defence is resistance, which prevents understanding. Worry, like gossip, has the semblance of intensity and seriousness; but if one observes more closely one will see that it arises from attraction and not earnestness. Attraction is ever changing, and that is why the objects of worry and gossip change. Change is merely modified continuity. Gossip and worry can come to an end only when the restlessness of the mind is understood. Mere abstinence, control or discipline will not bring about tranquillity, but only dull the mind, making it insensitive and confined. Curiosity is not the way of understanding. Understanding comes with self-knowledge. He who suffers is not curious; and mere curiosity, with its speculative overtones, is a hindrance to self-knowledge. Speculation, like curiosity, is an indication of restlessness; and a restless mind, however gifted, destroys understanding and happiness. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 4 'THOUGHT AND LOVE' THOUGHT WITH ITS emotional and sensational content, is not love. Thought invariably denies love. Thought is founded on memory, and love is not memory. When you think about someone you love, that thought is not love. You may recall a friend's habits, manners idiosyncrasies, and think of pleasant or unpleasant incidents in your relationship with that person, but the pictures which thought evokes are not love. By its very nature, thought is separative. The sense of time and space, of separation and sorrow, is born of the process of thought, and it is only when the thought process ceases that there can be love. Thought inevitably breeds the feeling of ownership, that possessiveness which consciously or unconsciously cultivates jealousy. Where jealousy is, obviously love is not; and yet with most people, jealousy is taken as an indication of love. Jealousy is the result of thought, it is a response of the emotional content of thought. When the feeling of possessing or being possessed is blocked, there is such emptiness that envy takes the place of love. It is because thought plays the role of love that all the complications and sorrows arise. If you did not think of another, you would say that you did not love that person. But is it love when you do think of the person? If you did not think of a friend whom you think you love, you would be rather horrified, would you not? If you did not think of a friend who is dead, you would consider yourself disloyal, without love, and so on. You would regard such a state as callous, indifferent, and so you would begin to think of that person, you would have photographs, images made by the hand or by the mind; but thus to fill your heart with the things of the mind is to leave no room for love. When you are with a friend, you do not think about him; it is only in his absence that thought begins to re-create scenes and experiences that are dead. This revival of the past is called love. So, for most of us, love is death, a denial of life; we live with the past, with the dead, therefore we ourselves are dead, though we call it love. The process of thought ever denies love. It is thought that has emotional complications, not love. Thought is the greatest hindrance to love. Thought creates a division between what is and what should be, and on this division morality is based; but neither the moral nor the immoral know love. The moral structure, created by the mind to hold social relationships together, is not love, but a hardening process like that of cement. Thought does not lead to love, thought does not cultivate love; for love cannot be cultivated as a plant in the garden. The very desire to cultivate love is the action of thought. If you are at all aware you will see what an important part thought plays in your life. Thought obviously has its place, but it is in no way related to love. What is related to thought can a understood by thought, but that which is not related to thought cannot be caught by the mind. You will ask, then what is love? Love is a state of being in which thought is not; but the very definition of love is a process of thought, and so it is not love. We have to understand thought itself, and not try to capture love by thought. The denial of thought does not bring about love. There is freedom from thought only when its deep significance is fully understood; and for this, profound self-knowledge is essential, not vain and superficial assertions. Meditation and not repetition, awareness and not definition, reveal the ways of thought. Without being aware and experiencing the ways of thought, love cannot be. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 5 'ALONENESS AND ISOLATION' THE SUN HAS gone down and the trees were dark and shapely against the darkening sky. The wide, strong river was peaceful and still. The moon was just visible on the horizon: she was coming up between two great trees, but she was not yet casting shadows. We walked up the steep bank of the river and took a path that skirted the green wheat-fields. This path was a very ancient way; many thousands had trodden it, and it was rich in tradition and silence. It wandered among fields and mangoes, tamarinds and deserted shrines. There were large patches of garden, sweet peas deliciously scenting the air. The birds were settling down for the night, and a large pond was beginning to reflect the stars. Nature was not communicative that evening. The trees were aloof; they had withdrawn into their silence and darkness. A few chattering villagers passed by on their bicycles, and once again there was deep silence and that peace which comes when all things are alone. This aloneness is not aching, fearsome loneliness. It is the aloneness of being; it is uncorrupted, rich, complete. That tamarind tree has no existence other than being itself. So is the aloneness. One is alone, like the fire, like the flower, but one is not aware of its purity and of its immensity, One can truly communicate only when there is aloneness. Being alone is not the outcome of denial, of self-enclosure. Aloneness is the purgation of all motives, of all pursuits of desire, of all ends Aloneness is not an end product of the mind. You cannot wish to be alone. Such a wish is merely an escape from the pain of not being able to commune. Loneliness, with its fear and ache, is isolation, the inevitable action of the self. This process of isolation, whether expansive or narrow, is productive of confusion, conflict and sorrow. Isolation can never give birth to aloneness; the one has to cease for the other to be. Aloneness is indivisible and loneliness is separation. That which is alone is pliable and so enduring. Only the alone can commune with that which is causeless, the immeasurable. To the alone, life is eternal; to the alone there is no death. The alone can never cease to be. The moon was just coming over the tree tops, and the shadows were thick and dark. A dog began to bark as we passed the little village and walked back along the river. The river was so still that it caught the stars and the lights of the long bridge among its waters. High up on the bank children were standing and laughing, and a baby was crying. The fishermen were cleaning and coiling their nets. A night-bird flew silently by. Someone began to sing on the other bank of the wide river, and his words were clear and penetrating. Again the all-pervading aloneness of life. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 6 'PUPIL AND MASTER' "YOU KNOW, I have been told that I am a pupil of a certain Master," he began. "Do you think I am? I really want to know what you think of this. I belong to a society of which you know, and the outer heads who represent the inner leaders or Masters have told me that because of my work for the society I have been made a pupil. I have been told that I have an opportunity to become a first-degree initiate in this life." He took all this very seriously, and we talked at some length. Reward in any form is extremely gratifying, especially a so-called spiritual reward when one is somewhat indifferent to the honours of the world. Or when one is not very successful in this world, it is very gratifying to belong to a group especially chosen by someone who is supposed to be a highly advanced spiritual being, for then one is part of a team working for a great idea, and naturally one must be rewarded for one's obedience and for the sacrifices one has made for the cause. If it is not a reward in that sense, it is a recognition of one's spiritual advancement; or, as in a well-run organization, one's efficiency is acknowledged in order to stimulate one to do better. In a world where success is worshipped, this kind of self-advancement is understood and encouraged. But to be told by another that you are a pupil of a Master, or to think that you are, obviously leads to many ugly forms of exploitation. Unfortunately, both the exploiter and the exploited feel elated in their mutual relationship. This expanding self-gratification is considered spiritual advancement, and it becomes especially ugly and brutal when you have intermediaries between the pupil and the Master, when the Master is in a different country or is otherwise inaccessible and you are not in direct physical contact with him. This inaccessibility and the lack of direct contact opens the door to self-deception and to grand but childish illusions; and these illusions are exploited by the cunning, by those who are after glory and power. Reward and punishment exist only when there is no humility. Humility is not an end result of spiritual practices and denials. Humility is not an achievement, it is not a virtue to be cultivated. A virtue that is cultivated ceases to be a virtue, for then it is merely another form of achievement, a record to be made. A cultivated virtue is not the abnegation of the self, but a negative assertion of the self. Humility is unaware of the division of the superior and the inferior, of the Master and the pupil. As long as there is a division between the Master and the pupil, between reality and yourself, understanding is not possible. In the understanding of truth, there is no Master or pupil, neither the advanced nor the lowly. Truth is the understanding of what is from moment to moment without the burden or the residue of the past moment. Reward and punishment only strengthens the self, which denies humility. Humility is in the present, not in the future. You cannot become humble. The very becoming is the continuation of self-importance, which conceals itself in the practice of a virtue. How strong is our will to succeed, to become ! How can success and humility go together? Yet that is what the "spiritual" exploiter and exploited pursue, and therein lie conflict and misery. "Do you mean to say that the Master does not exist, and that my being a pupil is an illusion, a make-believe?" he asked. Whether the Master exists or not is so trivial. It is important to the exploiter, to the secret schools and societies; but to the man who is seeking truth, which brings supreme happiness, surely this question is utterly irrelevant. The rich man and the coolie are as important as the Master and the pupil. Whether the Masters exist or do not exist, whether there are the distinctions of Initiates, pupils and so on, is not important, but what is important is to understand yourself. Without self-knowledge, your thought, that which you reason out, has no basis. Without first knowing yourself, how can you know what is true? Illusion is inevitable without self-knowledge. It is childish to be told and to accept that you are this or that. Beware of the man who offers you a reward in this world or in the next. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 7 'THE RICH AND THE POOR' IT WAS HOT and humid and the noise of the very large town filled the air. The breeze from the sea was warm, and there was the smell of tar and petrol. With the setting of the sun, red in the distant waters, it was still unyieldingly hot. The large group that filled the room presently left, and we went out into the street. The parrot, like bright green flashes of light, were coming home to roost. Early in the morning they flew to the north, where there were orchards, green fields and open country, and in the evening they came back to pass the night in the trees of the city. Their flight was never smooth but always reckless, noisy and brilliant. They never flew straight like other birds, but were forever veering off to the left or the right, or suddenly dropping into a tree. They were the most restless birds in flight, but how beautiful they were with their red beaks and a golden green that was the very glory of light. The vultures, heavy and ugly, circled and settled down for the night on the palm trees. A man came along playing the flute; he was a servant of some kind. He walked up the hill, still playing, and we followed him; he turned into one of the side street, never ceasing to play. It was strange to hear the song of the flute in a noisy city, and its sound penetrated deep into the heart. It was very beautiful, and we followed the flute player for some distance. We crossed several streets and came to a wider one, better lighted. Farther on, a group of people were sitting cross-legged at the side of the road, and the flute player joined them. So did we; and we all sat around while he played. They were mostly chauffeurs, servants, night watchmen, with several children and a dog or two. Cars passed by, one driven by a chauffeur; a lady was inside, beautifully dressed and alone, with the inside light on. Another car drew up; the chauffeur got out and sat down with us. They were all talking and enjoying themselves, laughing and gesticulating, but the song of the flute never wavered, and there was delight. Presently we left and took a road that led to the sea past the well-lit houses of the rich. The rich have a peculiar atmosphere of their own. However cultured, unobtrusive, ancient and polished, the rich have an impenetrable and assured aloofness, that inviolable certainty and hardness that is difficult to break down. They are not the possessors of wealth, but are possessed by wealth, which is worse than death. Their conceit is philanthropy; they think they are trustees of their wealth; they have charities, create endowments; they are the makers, the builders, the givers. They build churches, temples, but their god is the god of their gold. With so much poverty and degradation, one must have a very thick skin to be rich. Some of them come to question, to argue, to find reality. For the rich as for the poor, it is extremely difficult to find reality. The poor crave to be rich and powerful, and the rich are already caught in the net of their own action; and yet they believe and venture near. They speculate, not only upon the market, but upon the ultimate. They play with both, but are successful only with what is in their hearts. Their beliefs and ceremonies, their hopes and fears have nothing to do with reality, for their hearts are empty. The greater the outward show, the greater the inward poverty. To renounce the world of wealth, comfort and position is a comparatively simple matter; but to put aside the craving to be, to become, demands great intelligence and understanding. The power that wealth gives is a hindrance to the understanding of reality, as is also the power of gift and capacity. This particular form of confidence is obviously an activity of the self; and though it is difficult to do so, this kind of assurance and power can be put aside. But what is much more subtle and more hidden is the power and the drive that lie in the craving to become. Self-expansion in any form, whether through wealth or through virtue, is a process of conflict, causing antagonism and confusion. A mind burdened with becoming can never be tranquil, for tranquillity is not a result either of practice or of time. Tranquillity is a state of understanding, and becoming denies this understanding. Becoming creates the sense of time, which is really the postponement of understanding. The "I shall be" is an illusion born of self-importance. The sea was as restless as the town, but its restlessness had depth and substance, The evening star was on the horizon. We walked back through a street crowded with buses, cars and people. A man lay naked and asleep on the sidewalk; he was a beggar, exhausted, fatally undernourished, and it was difficult to awaken him. Beyond lay the green lawns and bright flowers of a public garden. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 8 'CEREMONIES AND CONVERSION' IN A LARGE enclosure, among many trees, was a church. People, brown and white, were going in. Inside there was more light than in the European churches, but the arrangements were the same. The ceremony was in progress and there was beauty. When it was over, very few of the brown talked to the white, or the white to the brown, and we all went our different ways. On another continent there was a temple, and they were singing a Sanskrit chant; the Puja, a Hindu ceremony, was being performed. The congregation was of another cultural pattern. The tonality of Sanskrit words is very penetrating and powerful; it has a strange weight and depth. You can be converted from one belief to another, from one dogma to another, but you cannot be converted to the understanding of reality. Belief is not reality. You can change your mind, your opinion, but truth or God is not a conviction: it is an experience not based on any belief or dogma, or on any previous experience. If you have an experience born of belief, your experience is the conditioned response of that belief. If you have an experience unexpectedly, spontaneously, and build further experience upon the first, then experience is merely a continuation of memory which responds to contact with the present. Memory is always dead, coming to life only in contact with the living present. Conversion is change from one belief or dogma to another, from one ceremony to a more gratifying one, and it does not open the door to reality. On the contrary, gratification is a hindrance to reality. And yet that is what organized religions and religious groups are attempting to do: to convert you to a more reasonable or a less reasonable dogma, superstition or hope. They offer you a better cage. It may or may not be comfortable, depending on your temperament, but in any case it is a prison. Religiously and politically, at different levels of culture, this conversion is going on all the time. Organizations, with their leaders, thrive on keeping ma in the ideological patterns they offer, whether religious or economic. In this process lies mutual exploitation. Truth is outside of all patterns, fears and hopes. If you would discover the supreme happiness of truth, you must break away from all ceremonies and ideological patterns. The mind finds security and strength in religious and political pattern, and this is what gives stamina to the organizations. There are always the die-hards and the new recruits. These keep the organizations, with their investments and properties, going, and the power and prestige of the organizations attract those who worship success and worldly wisdom. When the mind finds the old patterns are no longer satisfying and life-giving, it becomes converted to other more comforting and strengthening beliefs and dogmas. So the mind is the product of environment re-creating and sustaining itself on sensations and identifications; and that is why the mind cling to codes of conducts patterns of thought, and so on. As long as the mind is the outcome of the past, it can never discover truth or allow truth to come into being. In holding to organizations it discards the search for truth. Obviously, rituals offer to the participants an atmosphere in which they feel good. Both collective and individual rituals give a certain quietness to the mind; they offer a vital contrast to the everyday, humdrum life. There is a certain amount of beauty and orderliness in ceremonies, but fundamentally they are stimulants; and as with all stimulants, they soon dull the mind and heart. Rituals become habit; they become a necessity, and one cannot do without them. This necessity is considered a spiritual renewal, a gathering of strength to face life, a weekly or daily meditation, and so on; but if one looks more closely into this process, one sees that rituals are vain repetition which offer a marvellous and respectable escape from self-knowledge. Without self-knowledge, action has very little significance. The repetition of chants, of words and phrases, puts the mind to sleep, though it is stimulating enough for the time being. In this sleepy state, experiences do occur, but they are self-pro- jected. However gratifying, these experiences are illusory. The experiencing of reality does not come about through any repetition, through any practice. Truth is not an end, a result a goal; it cannot be invited, for it is not a thing of the mind. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 9 'KNOWLEDGE' WE WERE WAITING for the train, and it was late. The platform was dirty and noisy, the air acrid. There were many people waiting, like us. Children were crying, a mother was suckling her baby, the vendors were shouting their wares, tea and coffee were being sold, and it was an altogether busy and clamorous place. We were walking up and down the platform, watching our own footsteps and the movement of life about us. A man came up to us and began to talk in broken English. He said he had been watching us, and felt impelled to say something to us. With great feeling he promised he would lead a clean life, and that from this moment he would never smoke again. He said he was not educated, as he was only a rickshaw boy. He had strong eyes and a pleasant smile. Presently the train came. In the carriage a man introduced himself. He was a well-known scholar; he knew many languages and could quote freely in them. He was full of years and knowledge, well-to-do and ambitious. He talked of meditation, but he gave the impression that he was not speaking from his own experience. His god was the god of books. His attitude towards life was traditional and conformatory; he believed in early, prearranged marriage and in a strict code of life. He was conscious of his own caste or class and of the differences in the intellectual capacity of the castes. He was strangely vain in his knowledge and position. The sun was setting, and the train was passing through lovely country. The cattle were coming home, and there was golden dust. There were huge, black clouds on the horizon, and the crack of distant thunder. What joy a green field holds, and how pleasant is that village in the fold of a curving mountain! Darkness was setting in. A big, blue deer was feeding in the fields; he did not even look up as the train roared by. Knowledge is a flash of light between two darknesses; but knowledge cannot go above and beyond that darkness, Knowledge is essential to technique, as coal to the engine; but it cannot reach out into the unknown. The unknown is not to be caught in the net of the known. Knowledge must be set aside for the unknown to be; but how difficult that is! We have our being in the past, our thought is founded upon the past. The past is the known, and the response of the past is ever overshadowing the present, the unknown. The unknown is not the future, but the present. The future is but the past pushing its way through the uncertain present. This gap, this interval, is filled with the intermittent light of knowledge, covering the emptiness of the present; but this emptiness holds the miracle of life. Addiction to knowledge is like any other addiction; it offers an escape from the fear of emptiness, of loneliness, of frustration, the fear of being nothing. The light of knowledge is a delicate covering under which lies a darkness that the mind cannot penetrate. The mind is frightened of this unknown, and so it escapes into knowledge, into theories, hopes, imagination; and this very knowledge is a hindrance to the understanding of the unknown. To put aside knowledge is to invite fear, and to deny the mind, which is the only instrument of perception one has, is to be vulnerable to sorrow, to joy. But it is not easy to put aside knowledge. To be ignorant is not to be free of knowledge. Ignorance is the lack of self-awareness; and knowledge is ignorance when there is no understanding of the ways of the self. Understanding of the self is freedom from knowledge. There can be freedom from knowledge only when the process of gathering, the motive of-accumulation, is understood. The desire to store up is the desire to be secure, to be certain. This desire for certainty through identification, through condemnation and justification, is the cause of fear, which destroys all communion. When there is communion, there is no need for accumulation. Accumulation is self-enclosing resistance, and knowledge strengthens this resistance. The worship of knowledge is a form of idolatry, and it will not dissolve the conflict and misery of our life. The cloak of knowledge conceals but can never liberate us from our ever increasing confusion and sorrow. The ways of the mind do not lead to truth and its happiness. To know is to deny the unknown. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 10 'RESPECTABILITY' HE ASSERTED THAT he was not greedy, that he was satisfied with little, and that life had been good to him, though he suffered the usual miseries of human existence. He was a quiet man, unobtrusive, hoping not to be disturbed from his easy ways. He said that he was not ambitious, but prayed to God for the things he had, for his family, and for the even flow of his life. He was thankful not to be plunged into problems and conflicts, as his friends and relations were. He was rapidly becoming very respectable and happy in the thought that he was one of the elite. He was not attracted to other women, and he had a peaceful family life, though there were the usual wrangles of husband and wife. He had no special vices, prayed often and worshipped God. "What is the matter with me," he asked, "as I have no problems?" He did not wait for a reply, but smiling in a satisfied and somewhat mournful way proceeded to tell of his past, what he was doing, and what kind of education he was giving to his children. He went on to say that he was not generous, but gave a little here and there. He was certain that each one must struggle to make a position for himself in the world. Respectability is a curse; it is an "evil" that corrodes the mind and heart. It creeps upon one unknowingly and destroys love. To be respectable is to feel successful to carve for oneself a position in the world, to build around oneself a was of certainty, of that assurance which comes with money, power, success, capacity or virtue. This exclusiveness of assurance breeds hatred and antagonism in human relationship, which in society. The respectable are always the cream of society, and so they are ever the cause of strife and misery. The respectable, like the despised, are always at the mercy of circumstances; the influences of environment and the weight of tradition are vastly important to them, for these hide their inward power. The respectable are on the defensive, fearful and suspicious. Fear is in their hearts, so anger is their righteousness; their virtue and piety are their defence. They are as the drum, empty within but loud when beaten. The respectable can never be open to reality, for, like the despised, they are enclosed in the concern for their own self-improvement. Happiness is denied to them, for they avoid truth. To be non-greedy and not to be generous are closely related. Both are a self-enclosing process, a negative form of self-centredness. To be greedy, you must be active, outgoing; you must strive, compete, be aggressive. If you have not this drive, you are not free of greed, but only self-enclosed. Outgoing is a disturbance, a painful struggle, so self-centredness is covered over by the word non-greedy. To be generous with the hand is one thing, but to be generous of heart is another. Generosity of the hand is a fairly simple affair, depending upon the cultural pattern and so on; but generosity of the heart is of vastly deeper significance, demanding extensional awareness and understanding. Not to be generous is again a pleasant and blind self-absorption, in which there is no outward-going. This self-absorbed state has its own activities, like those of a dreamer, but they never wake you up. The waking-up process is a painful one, and so, young or old, you would rather be left alone to become respectable, to die. Like generosity of the heart, generosity of the hand is an outgoing movement, but it is often painful, deceptive and self-revealing. Generosity of the hand is easy to come by; but generosity of heart is not a thing to be cultivated, it is freedom from all accumulation. To forgive there must have been a wound; and to be wounded, there must have been the gatherings of pride. There is no generosity of heart as long as there is a referential memory, the "me" and the "mine." COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 11 'POLITICS' HIGH UP IN the mountains it had been raining all day. It was not a soft, gentle rain, but one of those torrential downpours that wash out roads and uproot trees on the hillside, causing landslides and noisy streams which become quiet in a few hours. A little boy, soaked to the skin, was playing in a shallow pool and paying not the least attention to the angry and high-pitched voice of his mother. A cow was coming down the muddy road as we climbed it. The clouds seemed to open and cover the land with water. We were wet through and removed most of our clothing, and the rain was pleasant on the skin. The house was way up on the mountainside, and the town lay below. A strong wind was blowing from the west, bringing more dark and furious clouds. There was a fire in the room, and several people were waiting to talk things over. The rain, beating on the windows, had made a large puddle on the floor, and the water even came down the chimney, making the fire sputter. He was a very famous politician, realistic, intensely sincere and ardently patriotic. Neither narrow-minded not self-seeking his ambition was not for himself, but for an idea and for the people. He was not a mere eloquent tub thumper or vote catcher; he had suffered for his cause and, strangely, was not bitter. He seemed more of a scholar than a politician. But politics was the bread of his life, and his party obeyed him, though rather nervously. He was a dreamer, but he had put all that aside for politics. His friend, the leading economist, was also there; he had intricate theories and facts concerning the distribution of enormous revenues. He seemed to be familiar with the economists of both the left and the right, and he had his own theories for the economic salvation of mankind. He talked easily, and there was no hesitation for words. Both of them had harangued huge crowds. Have you noticed, in newspapers and magazines, the amount of space given to politics, to the sayings of politicians and their activities? Of course, other news is given, but political news predominates; the economic and political life has become all-important. The outward circumstances - comfort, money, position and power - seem to dominate and shape our existence. The external show - the title, the garb, the salute, the flag - has become increasingly significant, and the total process of life has been forgotten or deliberately set aside. It is so much easier to throw oneself into social and political activity than to understand life as a whole; to be associated with any organized thought, with political or religious activity, offers a respectable escape from the pettiness and drudgery of everyday life. With a small heart you can talk of big things and of the popular leaders; you can hide your shallowness with the easy phrases of world affairs; your restless mind can happily and with popular encouragement settle down to propagate the ideology of a new or of an old religion. Politics is the reconciliation of effects; and as most of us are concerned with effects, the external has assumed dominant significance. By manipulating effects we hope to bring about order and peace; but, unfortunately, it is not as simple as all that. Life is a total process, the inner as well as the outer; the outer definitely affects the inner, but the inner invariably overcomes the outer. What you are, you bring about outwardly. The outer and the inner cannot be separated and kept in watertight compartments, for they are constantly interacting upon each other; but the inner craving, the hidden pursuits and motives, are always more powerful. Life is not dependent upon political or economic activity; life is not a mere outward show, any more than a tree is the leaf or the branch. Life is a total process whose beauty is to be discovered only in its integration. This integra- tion does not take place on the superficial level of political and economic reconciliations; it is to be found beyond causes and effects. Because we play with causes and effects and never go beyond them, except verbally, our lives are empty, without much significance. It is for this reason that we have become slaves to political excitement and to religious sentimentalism. There is hope only in the integration of the several processes of which we are made up. This integration does not come into being through any ideology, or through following any particular authority, religious or political; it comes into being only through extensive and deep awareness. This awareness must go into the deeper layers of consciousness and not be content with surface responses. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 12 'EXPERIENCING' THE VALLEY WAS in the shadow, and the setting sun touched the faraway mountain tops; their evening glow seemed to come from within. To the north of the long road, the mountains were bare and barren, exposed by the fire; to the south, the hills were green and heavy with bushes and trees. The road ran straight, dividing the long and graceful valley. The mountains on this particular evening seemed so close, so unreal, so light and tender. Heavy birds were circling effortlessly high in the heavens. Ground squirrels were lazily crossing the road, and there was the hum of a distant airplane. On both sides of the road were orange orchards, well ordered and well kept. After the hot day the smell of purple sage was very strong, and so was the smell of sunburnt earth and hay. The orange trees were dark, with their bright fruit. The quail were calling, and a road-runner disappeared into the bush. A long snake-lizard, disturbed by the dog, wriggled off into the dry weeds. The evening stillness was creeping over the land. Experience is one thing, and experiencing is another. Experience is a barrier to the state of experiencing. However pleasant or ugly the experience, it prevents the flowering of experiencing. Experience is already in the net of time, it is already in the past, it has become a memory which comes to life only as a response to the present. Life is the present, it is not the experience. The weight and the strength of experience shadow the present, and so experiencing becomes the experience. The mind is the experience, the known, and it can never be in the state of experiencing; for what it experiences is the continuation of experience. The mind only knows continuity, and it can never receive the new as long as its continuity exists. What is continuous can never be in a state of experiencing. Experience is not the means to experiencing, which is a state without experience. Experience must cease for experiencing to be. The mind can invite only its own self-projection, the known. There cannot be the experiencing of the unknown until the mind ceases to experience. Thought is the expression of experience; thought is a response of memory; and as long as thinking intervenes, there can be no experiencing. There is no means, no method to put an end to experience; for the very means is a hindrance to experiencing. To know the end is to know continuity, and to have a means to the end is to sustain the known. The desire for achievement must fade away; it is this desire that creates the means and the end. Humility is essential for experiencing. But how eager is the mind to absorb the experiencing into experience! How swift it is to think about the new and thus make of it the old! So it establishes the experiencer and the experienced, which gives birth to the conflict of duality. In the state of experiencing, there is neither the experiencer nor the experienced. The tree, the dog and the evening star are not to be experienced by the experiencer; they are the very movement of experiencing. There is no gap between the observer and the observed; there is no time, no spatial interval for thought to identify itself. Thought is utterly absent, but there is being. This state of being cannot be thought of or meditated upon, it is not a thing to be achieved. The experiencer must cease to experience, and only then is there being. In the tranquillity of its movement is the timeless. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 13 'VIRTUE' THE SEA WAS very calm and there was hardly a ripple on the white sands. Around the wide bay, to the north, was the town, and to the south were palm trees, almost touching the water. Just visible beyond the bar were the first of the sharks, and beyond them the fishermen's boats, a few logs tied together with stout rope. They were making for a little village south of the palm trees. The sunset was brilliant, not where one would expect it, but in the east; it was a counter-sunset, and the clouds, massive and shapely, were lit with all the colours of the spectrum. It was really quite fantastic, and almost painful to bear. The waters caught the brilliant colours and made a path of exquisite light to the horizon. There were a few fishermen walking back to their villages from the town, but the beach was almost deserted and silent. A single star was above the clouds. On our way back, a woman joined us and began to talk of serious things. She said she belonged to a certain society whose members meditated and cultivated the essential virtues. Each month a particular virtue was chosen, and during the days that followed it was cultivated and put into practice. From her attitude and speech it appeared that she was well grounded in self-discipline and somewhat impatient with those who were not of her mood and purpose. Virtue is of the heart and not of the mind, When the mind cultivates virtue, it is cunning calculation; it is a self-defence, a clever adjustment to environment. Self-perfection is the very denial of virtue. How can there be virtue if there is fear? Fear is of the mind and not of the heart. Fear hides itself under different forms: virtue, respectability, adjustment, service and so on. Fear will always exist in the relationships and activities of the mind. The mind is not separate from its activities; but it separates itself, thus giving itself continuity and permanence. As a child practises the piano, so the mind cunningly practises virtue to make itself more permanent and dominant in meeting life, or to attain what it considers to be the highest. There must be vulnerability to meet life, and not the respectable wall of self-enclosing virtue. The highest cannot be attained; there is no path, no mathematically progressive growth to it. Truth must come, you cannot go to truth, and your cultivated virtue will not carry you to it. What you attain is not truth, but your own self-projected desire; and in truth alone is there happiness. The cunning adaptability of the mind in its own self-perpetuation sustains fear. It is this fear that must be deeply understood, not how to be virtuous. A petty mind may practise virtue, but it will still remain petty. Virtue is then an escape from its own pettiness, and the virtue it gathers will also be petty. If this pettiness is not understood, how can there be the experiencing of reality? How can a petty, virtuous mind be open to the immeasurable? In comprehending the process of the mind, which is the self, virtue comes into being. Virtue is not accumulated resistance; it is the spontaneous awareness and the understanding of what is. Mind cannot understand; it may translate what is understood into action, but it is not capable of understanding. To understand, there must be the warmth of recognition and reception, which only the heart can give when the mind is silent. But the silence of the mind is not the result of cunning calculation. The desire for silence is the curse of achievement, with its endless conflicts and pains. The craving to be, negatively or positively, is the denial of virtue of the heart. Virtue is not conflict and achievement, prolonged practice and result, but a state of being which is not the outcome of self-projected desire. There is no being if there is a struggle to be. In the struggle to be there is resistance and denial, mortification and renunciation; but the overcoming of these is not virtue. Virtue is the tranquillity of freedom from the craving to be, and this tranquillity is of the heart, not of the mind. Through practice, compulsion, resistance, the mind may make itself quiet, but such a discipline destroys virtue of the heart, without which there is no peace, no blessing; for virtue of the heart is understanding. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 14 'SIMPLICITY OF THE HEART' THE SKIES WERE open and full. There were not the big, wide-winged birds that float so easily from valley to valley, nor even a passing cloud. The trees were still and the curving folds of the hills were rich in shadow. The eager deer, consumed with curiosity, was watching, and suddenly darted away at our approach. Under a bush, of the same colour as the earth, was a flat horned toad, bright-eyed and motionless. To the west the mountains were sharp and clear against the setting sun. Far below was a big house; it had a swimming pool, and some people were in it. There was a lovely garden surrounding the house; the place looked prosperous and secluded, and had that peculiar atmosphere of the rich. Farther down a dusty road was a small shack in a dry field. Poverty, squalor and toil, even at that distance, were visible. Seen from that height the two houses were not far apart; ugliness and beauty were touching each other. Simplicity of the heart is of far greater importance and significance than simplicity of possessions. To be content with few things is a comparatively easy matter. To renounce comfort, or to give up smoking and other habits, does not indicate simplicity of heart. To put on a loincloth in a world that is taken up with clothes, comforts and distractions, does not indicate a free being. There was a man who had given up the world and its ways, but his desires and passions were consuming him; he had put on the robes of a monk, but he did not know peace. His eyes were everlastingly seeking, and his mind was riven by his doubts and hopes. Outwardly you discipline and renounce, you chart your course, step by step, to reach the end. You measure the progress of your achievement according to the standards of virtue: how you have given up this or that, how controlled you are in your behaviour, how tolerant and kind you are, and so on and on. You have learnt the art of concentration, and you withdraw into a forest, a monastery or a darkened room to meditate; you pass your days in prayer and watchfulness. Outwardly you have made your life simple, and through this thoughtful and calculated arrangement you hope to reach the bliss that is not of this world. But is reality reached through external control and sanctions? Though outward simplicity, the putting aside of comfort, is obviously necessary, will this gesture open the door to reality? To be occupied with comfort and success burdens the mind and the heart, and there must be freedom to travel; but why are we so concerned with the outward gesture? Why are we so eagerly determined to give an outward expression of our intention? Is it the fear of self-deception, or of what another might say? Why do we wish to convince ourselves of our integrity? Does not this whole problem lie in the desire to be sure, to be convinced of our own importance in becoming? The desire to be is the beginning of complexity. Driven by the ever-increasing desire to be, inwardly and outwardly, we accumulate or renounce, cultivate or deny. Seeing that time steals all things, we cling to the timeless. This struggle to be, positively or negatively, through attachment or detachment, can never be resolved by any outward gesture, discipline or practice; but the understanding of this struggle will bring about, naturally and spontaneously, the freedom from outward and inward accumulation with their conflicts. Reality is not to be reached through detachment; it is unattainable through any means. All means and ends are a form of attachment, and they must cease for the being of reality. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 15 'FACETS OF THE INDIVIDUAL' HE CAME TO see us surrounded by his disciples. They were of every kind, the well-to-do and the poor, the high governmental official and the widow, the fanatic and the young man with a smile. They were a pleasant and happy lot, and the shadows were dancing on the white house. In the thick foliage, parrots were screeching, and a noisy lorry went by. The young man was eager and insisted on the importance of the guru, the teacher; the others were in accord with him and smiled with delight as he made his points, clearly and objectively. The sky was very blue, and a white-throated eagle was circling just above us with hardly a flutter of the wing. It was a very beautiful day. How we destroy each other, the pupil the guru, and the guru the pupil! How we conform, break away to take shape again! A bird was pulling out a long worm from the moist earth. We are many and not one. The one does not come into being till the many cease. The clamorous many are at war with each other day and night, and this war is the pain of life. We destroy one, but another rises in its place; and this seemingly endless process is our life. We try to impose the one on the many, but the one soon becomes the many. The voice of the many is the voice of the one, and the one voice assumes authority; but it is still the chattering of a voice. We are the voices of the many, and we try to catch the still voice of the one. The one is the many if the many are silent to hear the voice of the one. The many can never find the one. Our problem is not how to hear the one voice but to understand the composition, the make-up of the many which we are. One facet of the many cannot understand the many; one entity cannot understand the many entities which we are. Though one facet tries to control, discipline, shape the other facets, its efforts are ever self-enclosing, narrowing. The whole cannot be understood through the part, and that is why we never understand. We never get the view of the whole, we are never aware of the whole, because we are so occupied with the part. The part divides itself and becomes the many. To be aware of the whole, the conflict of the many, there must be the understanding of desire. There is only one activity of desire; though there are varying and conflicting demands and pursuits, they are all the outcome of desire. Desire may not be sublimated or suppressed; it must be understood without him who understands. If the entity who understands is there, then it is still the entity of desire. To understand without the experiencer is to be free of the one and of the many. All activities of conformity and denial, of analysis and acceptance, only strengthen the experiencer. The experiencer can never understand the whole. The experiencer is the accumulated, and there is no understanding within the shadow of the past. Dependence on the past may offer a way of action, but the cultivation of a means is not understanding. Understanding is not of the mind, of thought; and if thought is disciplined into silence to capture that which is not of the mind, then that which is experienced is the projection of the past. In the awareness of this whole process there is a silence which is not of the experiencer. In this silence only does understanding come into being. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 16 'SLEEP' IT WAS A cold winter and the trees were bare, their naked branches exposed to the sky. There were very few evergreen trees, and even they felt the cold winds and the frosty nights. In the far distance the high mountains were covered with heavy snow, and white billowy clouds hung over them. The grass was brown, for there had been no rain for many months, and the spring rains were still distant. The earth was dormant and fallow. There was no cheery movement of nesting birds in green hedges, and the paths were hard and dusty. On the lake there were a few ducks, pausing on their way to the south. The mountains held the promise of a new spring, and the earth was dreaming of it. What would happen if sleep were denied to us? Would we have more time to fight, to intrigue, to make mischief? Would we be more cruel and ruthless? Would there be more time for humility, compassion and frugality? Would we be more creative? Sleep is a strange thing, but extraordinarily important. For most people, the activities of the day continue through their nocturnal slumbers; their sleep is the continuation of their life, dull or exciting, an extension at a different level of the same insipidity or meaningless strife. The body is refreshed by sleep; the internal organism, having a life of its own, renews itself. During sleep, desires are quiescent, and so do not interfere with the organism; and with the body refreshed, the activities of desire have further opportunities for stimulation and expansion. Obviously, the less one interferes with the internal organism, the better; the less the mind takes charge of the organism, the more healthy and natural is its function. But disease of the organism is another matter, produced by the mind or by its own weakness. Sleep is of great significance. The more the desires are strengthened, the less the meaning of sleep. Desires, positive or negative, are fundamentally always positive, and sleep is the temporary suspension of this positive. Sleep is not the opposite of desire, sleep is not negation, but a state which desire cannot penetrate. The quietening of the superficial layers of consciousness takes place during sleep, and so they are capable of receiving the intimations of the deeper layers; but this is only a partial comprehension of the whole problem. It is obviously possible for all the layers of consciousness to be in communication with each other during waking hours, and also during sleep; and of course this is essential. This communication frees the mind from its own self-importance, and so the mind does not become the dominant factor. Thus it loses, freely and naturally, its self-enclosing efforts and activities. In this process the impetus to become is completely dissolved, the accumulative momentum exists no longer. But there is something more that takes place in sleep. There is found an answer to our problems. When the conscious mind is quiet, it is capable of receiving an answer, which is a simple affair. But what is far more significant and important than all this is the renewal which is not a cultivation. One can deliberately cultivate a gift, a capacity, or develop a technique, a pattern of action and behaviour; but this is not renewal. Cultivation is not creation. This creative renewal does not take place if there is any kind of effort on the part of a becomer. The mind must voluntarily lose all accumulative impulse, the storing up of experience as a means to further experience and achievement. It is the accumulative, self-protective urge that breeds the curve of time and prevents creative renewal. Consciousness as we know it is of time, it is a process of recording and storing experience at its different levels. Whatever takes place within this consciousness is its own projection; it has its own quality, and is measurable. During sleep, either this consciousness is strengthened, or something wholly different takes place. For most of us, sleep strengthens experience, it is a process of recording and storing in which there is expansion but not renewal. Expansiveness gives a feeling of elation, of inclusive achievement, of having understood, and so on; but all this is not creative renewal. This process of becoming must wholly come to an end, not as a means to further experience, but as an ending in itself. During sleep, and often during waking hours, when becoming has entirely ceased, when the effect of a cause has come to an end, then that which is beyond time, beyond the measure of cause and effect, comes into being. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 17 'LOVE IN RELATIONSHIP' THE PATH WENT by a farm and climbed a hill overlooking the various buildings, the cows with their calves, the chickens, the horses, and many farm machines. It was a pleasant path, wandering through the woods, and it was often used by deer and other wild animals who left their footprints here and there in the soft earth. When it was very still, the voices from the farm, the laughter and the sound of the radio, would be carried to quite a distance. It was a well-kept farm and there was an air of tidiness about it. Often the voices were raised in anger, followed by the silence of children. There was a song among the trees and the angry voices even broke through this song. Suddenly, a woman came out of the house, banging the door; she went over to the cow-shed and began beating a cow with a stick. The sharp noise of this beating came up the hill. How easy it is to destroy the thing we love! How quickly a barrier comes between us, a word, a gesture, a smile! Health, mood and desire cast a shadow, and what was bright becomes dull and burdensome. Through usage we wear ourselves out, and that which was sharp and clear becomes wearisome and confused. Through constant friction, hope and frustration, that which was beautiful and simple becomes fearful and expectant. Relationship is complex and difficult, and few can come out of it unscathed. Though we would like it to be static, enduring, continuous, relationship is a movement, a process which must be deeply and fully understood and not made to conform to an inner or outer pattern. Conformity, which is the social structure, loses its weight and authority only when there is love. Love in relationship is a purifying process as it reveals the ways of the self. Without this revelation, relationship has little significance. But how we struggle against this revelation! The struggle takes many forms: dominance or subservience, fear or hope, jealousy or acceptance, and so on and on. The difficulty is that we do not love; and if we do love we want it to function in a particular way, we do not give it freedom. We love with our minds and not with our hearts. Mind can modify itself, but love cannot. Mind can make itself invulnerable, but love cannot; mind can always withdraw, be exclusive, become personal or impersonal. Love is not to be compared and hedged about. Our difficulty lies in that which we call love, which is really of the mind. We fill our hearts with the things of the mind and so keep our hearts ever empty and expectant. It is the mind that clings, that is envious, that holds and destroys. Our life is dominated by the physical centres and by the mind. We do not love and let it alone, but crave to be loved; we give in order to receive, which is the generosity of the mind and not of the heart. The mind is ever seeking certainty, security; and can love be made certain by the mind? Can the mind, whose very essence is of time, catch love, which is its own eternity? But even the love of the heart has its own tricks; for we have so corrupted our heart that it is hesitant and confused. It is this that makes life so painful and wearisome. One moment we think we have love, and the next it is lost. There comes an imponderable strength, not of the mind, whose sources may not be fathomed. This strength is again destroyed by the mind; for in this battle the mind seems invariably to be the victor. this conflict within ourselves is not to be resolved by the cunning mind or by the hesitant heart. There is no means, no way to bring this conflict to an end. The very search for a means is another urge of the mind to be the master, to put away conflict in order to be peaceful, to have love, to become something. Our greatest difficulty is to be widely and deeply aware that there is no means to love as a desirable end of the mind. When we understand this really and profoundly, then there is a possibility of receiving something that is not of this world. Without the touch of that something, do what we will, there can be no lasting happiness in relationship. If you have received that benediction and I have not, naturally you and I will be in conflict. You may not be in conflict, but I will be; and in my pain and sorrow I cut myself off. Sorrow is as exclusive as pleasure, and until there is that love which is not of my making, relationship is pain. If there is the benediction of that love, you cannot but love me whatever I may be, for then you do not shape love according to my behaviour. Whatever tricks the mind may play, you and I are separate; though we may be in touch with each other at some points, integration is not with you, but within myself. This integration is not brought about by the mind at any time; it comes into being only when the mind is utterly silent, having reached the end of its own tether. Only then is there no pain in relationship. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 18 'THE KNOWN AND THE UNKNOWN' THE LONG EVENING shadows were over the still waters, and the river was becoming quiet after the day. Fish were jumping out of the water, and the heavy birds were coming to roost among the big trees. There was not a cloud in the sky, which was silver-blue. A boat full of people came down the river; they were singing and clapping, and a cow called in the distance. There was the scent of evening. A garland of marigold was moving with the water, which sparkled in the setting sun. How beautiful and alive it all was - the river, the birds, the trees and the villagers. We were sitting under a tree, overlooking the river. Near the tree was a small temple, and a few lean cows wandered about. The temple was clean and well swept, and the flowering bush was watered and cared for. A man was performing his evening rituals, and his voice was patient and sorrowful. Under the last rays of the sun, the water was the colour of newborn flowers. Presently someone joined us and began to talk of his experiences. He said he had devoted many years of his life to the search for God, had practised many austerities and renounced many things that were dear. He had also helped considerably in social work, in building a school, and so on. He was interested in many things, but his consuming interest was the finding of God; and now, after many years, His voice was being heard, and it guided him in little as well as big things. He had no will of his own, but followed the inner voice of God. It never failed him, though he often corrupted its clarity; his prayer was ever for the purification of the vessel, that it might be worthy to receive. Can that which is immeasurable be found by you and me? Can that which is not of time be searched out by that thing which is fashioned of time? Can a diligently practised discipline lead us to the unknown? Is there a means to that which has no beginning and no end? Can that reality be caught in the net of our desires? What we can capture is the projection of the known; but the unknown cannot be captured by the known. That which is named is not the unnameable, and by naming we only awaken the conditioned responses. These responses, however noble and pleasant, are not of the real. We respond to stimulants, but reality offers no stimulant: it is. The mind moves from the known to the known, and it cannot reach out into the unknown. You cannot think of something you do not know; it is impossible. What you think about comes out of the known, the past, whether that past be remote, or the second that has just gone by. This past is thought, shaped and conditioned by many influences, modifying itself according to circumstances and pressures, but ever remaining a process of time. Thought can only deny or assert it cannot discover or search out the new. Thought cannot come upon the new. but when thought is silent, then there may be the new - which is immediately transformed into the old, into the experienced, by thought. Thought is ever shaping, modifying, colouring according to a pattern of experience. The function of thought is to communicate but not to be in the state of experiencing. When experiencing ceases, then thought takes over and terms it within the category of the known. Thought cannot penetrate into the unknown, and so it can never discover or experience reality. Disciplines, renunciations, detachment, rituals, the practice of virtue - all these, however noble, are the process of thought; and thought can only work towards an end, towards an achievement, which is ever the known. Achievement is security, the self-protective certainty of the known. To seek security in that which is nameless is to deny it. The security that may be found is only in the projection of the past, of the known. For this reason the mind must be entirely and deeply silent; but this silence cannot be purchased through sacrifice, sublimation or suppression. This silence comes when the mind is no longer seeking, no longer caught in the process of becoming. This silence is not cumulative, it may not be built up through practice. The silence must be as unknown to the mind as the timeless; for if the mind experiences the silence, then there is the experiencer who is the result of past experiences, who is cognizant of a past silence; and what is experienced by the experiencer is merely a self-projected repetition. The mind can never experience the new, and so the mind must be utterly still. The mind can be still only when it is not experiencing, that is, when it is not terming or naming, recording or storing up in memory. This naming and recording is a constant process of the different layers of consciousness, not merely of the upper mind. But when the superficial mind is quiet, the deeper mind can offer up its intimations. When the whole consciousness is silent and tranquil, free from all becoming, which is spontaneity then only does the immeasurable come into being. The desire to main- tain this freedom gives continuity to the memory of the becomer, which is a hindrance to reality. Reality has no continuity; it is from moment to moment, ever new, ever fresh. What has continuity can never be creative. The upper mind is only an instrument of communication it cannot measure that which is immeasurable. Reality is not to be spoken of; and when it is, it is no longer reality. This is meditation. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 19 'THE SEARCH FOR TRUTH' HE HAD COME a very long way, many thousands of miles by boat and plane. He spoke only his own language, and with the greatest of difficulties was adjusting himself to this new and disturbing environment. He was entirely unaccustomed to this kind of food and to this climate; having been born and bred in a very high altitude, the damp heat was telling on him. He was a well-read man, a scientist of sorts, and had done some writing. He seemed to be well acquainted with both Eastern and Western philosophies, and had been a Roman Catholic. He said he had been dissatisfied with all this for a long time, but had carried on because of his family. His marriage was what could be considered a happy one, and he loved his two children. They were in college now in that faraway country, and had a bright future. But this dissatisfaction with regard to his life and action had been steadily increasing through the years, and a few months ago it had reached a crisis. He had left his family, making all the necessary arrangements for his wife and children, and now here he was. He had just enough money to carry on, and had come to find God. He said that he was in no way unbalanced, and was clear in his purpose. Balance is not a matter to be judged by the frustrated, or by those who are successful. The successful may be the unbalanced; and the frustrated become bitter and cynical, or they find an escape through some self-projected illusion. Balance is not in the hands of the analysts; to fit into the norm does not necessarily indicate balance. The norm itself may be the product of an unbalanced culture. An acquisitive society, with its patterns and norms, is unbalanced, whether it is of the left or of the right, whether its acquisitiveness is vested in the State or in its citizens. Balance is non-acquisitiveness. The idea of balance and nonbalance is still within the field of thought and so cannot be the judge. Thought itself, the conditioned response with its standards and judgments, is not true. Truth is not an idea, a conclusion. Is God to be found by seeking him out? Can you search after the unknowable? To find, you must know what you are seeking. If you seek to find, what you find will be a sell-projection; it will be what you desire, and the creation of desire is not truth. To seek truth is to deny it. Truth has no fixed abode; there is no path, no guide to it, and the word is not truth. Is truth to be found in a particular setting, in a special climate, among certain people? Is it here and not there? Is that one the guide to truth, and not another? Is there a guide at all? When truth is sought, what is found can only come out of ignorance, for the search itself is born of ignorance. You cannot search out reality; you must cease for reality to be. "But can I not find the nameless? I have come to this country because here there is a greater feeling for that search. Physically one can be more free here, one need not have so many things; possessions do not overpower one here as elsewhere. That is partly why one goes to a monastery. But there are psychological escapes in going to a monastery, and as I do not want to escape into ordered isolation, I am here, living my life to find the nameless. Am I capable of finding it?" Is it a matter of capacity? Does not capacity imply the following of a particular course of action, a predetermined path, with all the necessary adjustments? When you ask that question, are you not asking whether you, an ordinary individual, have the necessary means of gaining what you long for? Surely, your question implies that only the exceptional find truth, and not the everyday man. Is truth granted only to the few, to the exceptionally intelligent? Why do we ask whether we are capable of finding it? We have the pattern, the example of the man who is supposed to have discovered truth; and the example, being elevated far above us, creates uncertainty in ourselves. The example thus assumes great significance and there is competition between the example and ourselves; we also long to be the record-breaker. Does not this question, "Have I the capacity?", arise out of one's conscious or unconscious comparison of what one is with what one supposes the example to be? Why do we compare ourselves with the ideal? And does comparison bring understanding? Is the ideal different from ourselves? Is it not a self-projection, a homemade thing, and does it not therefore prevent the understanding of ourselves as we are? Is not comparison an evasion of the understanding of ourselves? There are so many ways of escaping from ourselves, and comparison is one of them. Surely, without the understanding of oneself, the search for so-called reality is an escape from oneself. Without self-knowledge, the god that you seek is the god of illusion; and illusion inevitably brings conflict and sorrow. Without self-knowledge, there can be no right thinking; and then all knowledge is ignorance which can only lead to confusion and destruction. Self-knowledge is not an ultimate end; it is the only opening wedge to the inexhaustible. "Is not self-knowledge extremely difficult to acquire, and will it not take a very long time?" The very conception that self-knowledge is difficult to acquire is a hindrance to self-knowledge. If I may suggest, do not suppose that it will be difficult, or that it will take time; do not predetermine whit it is and what it is not. Begin. Self-knowledge is to be discovered in the action of relationship; and all action is relationship. Self-knowledge does not come about through self-isolation, through withdrawal; the denial of relationship is death. Death is the ultimate resistance. Resistance, which is suppression, substitution or sublimation in any form, is a hindrance to the flow of self-knowledge; but resistance is to be discovered in relationship, in action. Resistance, whether negative or positive, with its comparisons and justifications, its condemnations and identifications, is the denial of what is. What is is the implicit; and awareness of the implicit, without any choice, is the unfoldment of it. This unfoldment is the beginning of wisdom. Wisdom is essential for the coming into being of the unknown, the inexhaustible. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 20 'SENSITIVITY' IT WAS A lovely garden, with sunken lawns and old shady trees. The house was large, with spacious rooms, airy and well proportioned. The trees gave shelter to many birds and many squirrels, and to the fountain came birds of every size, sometimes eagles, but mostly crows, sparrows and noisy parrots. The house and garden were secluded, the more so as they were enclosed within high, white walls. It was pleasant within those walls, and beyond them was the noise of the road and the village. The road passed the gates, and a few yards along that road was the village, on the outskirts of a large town. The village was foul, with open gutters along its main, narrow lane. The houses were thatched, the front steps decorated, and children were playing in the lane. Some weavers had stretched out long strands of gay-coloured threads to make cloth, and a group of children were watching them at work. It was a cheerful scene, bright, noisy and smelly. The villagers were freshly washed, and they had very little on for the climate was warm. Towards evening some of them got drunk and became loud and rough. It was only a thin wall that separated the lovely garden from the pulsating village. To deny ugliness and to hold to beauty is to be insensitive. The cultivation of the opposite must ever narrow the mind and limit the heart. Virtue is not an opposite; and if it has an opposite, it ceases to be virtue. To be aware of the beauty of that village is to be sensitive to the green, flowering garden. We want to be aware only of beauty, and we shut ourselves off from that which is not beautiful. This suppression merely breeds insensitivity, it does not bring about the appreciation of beauty. The good is not in the garden, away from the village, but in the sensitivity that lies beyond both. To deny or to identify leads to narrowness, which is to be insensitive. Sensitivity is not a thing a be carefully nurtured by the mind, which can only divide and dominate. There is good and evil; but to pursue the one and to avoid the other does not lead to that sensitivity which is essential for the being of reality. Reality is not the opposite of illusion, of the false, and if you try to approach it as an opposite it will never come into being. Reality can be only when the opposites cease. To condemn or identify breeds the conflict of the opposites, and conflict only engenders further conflict. A fact approached unemotionally, without denying or justifying, does not bring about conflict. A fact in itself has no opposite; it has an opposite only when there is a pleasurable or defensive attitude. It is this attitude that builds the walls of insensitivity and destroys action. If we prefer to remain in the garden, there is a resistance to the village; and where there is resistance there can be no action, either in the garden or towards the village. There may be activity, but not action. Activity is based on an idea, and action is not. Ideas have opposites, and movement within the opposites is mere activity, however prolonged or modified. Activity can never be liberating. Activity has a past and a future, but action has not. Action is always in the present, and is therefore immediate. Reform is activity, not action, and what is reformed needs further reform. Reformation is inaction, an activity born as an opposite. Action is from moment to moment, and, oddly enough, it has no inherent contradiction; but activity, though it may appear to be without a break, is full of contradiction. The activity of revolution is riddled with contradictions and so can never be liberate. Conflict, choice, can never be a liberating. factor. If there is choice, there is activity and not action; for choice is based on idea. Mind can indulge in activity, but it cannot act. Action springs from quite a different source. The moon came up over the village, making shadows across the garden. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 21 'THE INDIVIDUAL AND SOCIETY' WE WERE WALKING along a crowded street. The sidewalks were heavy with people, and the smell of exhaust from the cars and buses filled our nostrils. The shops displayed many costly and shoddy things. The sky was pale silver, and it was pleasant in the park as we came out of the noisy thoroughfare. We went deeper into the park and sat down. He was saying that the State, with its militarization and legislation, was absorbing the individual almost everywhere, and that worship of the State was now taking the place of the worship of God. In most countries the State was penetrating into the very intimate lives of its people; they were being told what to read and what to think. The State was spying upon its citizens, keeping a divine eye on them, taking over the function of the Church. It was the new religion. Man used to be a slave to the Church, but was now a slave of the State. Before it was the Church, and now it was the State that controlled his education; and neither was concerned with the liberation of man. What is the relationship of the individual to society? Obviously, society exists for the individual, and not the other way round. Society exists for the fruition of man; it exists to give freedom to the individual so that he may have the opportunity to awaken the highest intelligence. This intelligence is not the mere cultivation of a technique or of knowledge; it is to be in touch with that creative reality which is not of the superficial mind. Intelligence is not a cumulative result, but freedom from progressive achievement and success. Intelligence is never static; it cannot be copied and standardized, and hence cannot be taught. Intelligence is to be discovered in freedom. The collective will and its action, which is society, does not offer this freedom to the individual; for society, not being organic, is ever static. Society is made up, put together for the convenience of man; it has no independent mechanism of its own. Men may capture society, guide it, shape it, tyrannize over it, depending upon their psychological states; but society is not the master of man. It may influence him, but man always breaks it down. There is conflict between man and society because man is in conflict within himself; and the conflict is between that which is static and that which is living. Society is the outward expression of man. The conflict between himself and society is the conflict within himself. This conflict, within and without, will ever exist until the highest intelligence is awakened. We are social entities as well as individuals; we are citizens as well as men, separate becomers in sorrow and pleasure. If there is to be peace, we have to understand the right relationship between the man and the citizen. Of course, the State would prefer us to be entirely citizens; but that is the stupidity of government. We ourselves would like to hand over the man to the citizen; for to be a citizen is easier than to be a man. To be a good citizen is to function efficiently within the pattern of a given society. Efficiency and conformity are demanded of the citizen, as they toughen him, make him ruthless; and then he is capable of sacrificing the man to the citizen. A good citizen is not necessarily a good man; but a good man is bound to be a right citizen, not of any particular society or country. Because he is primarily a good man, his actions will not be antisocial, he will not be against another man. He will live in co-operation with other good men; he will not seek authority, for he has no authority; he will be capable of efficiency without its ruthlessness. The citizen attempts to sacrifice the man; but the man who is searching out the highest intelligence will naturally shun the stupidities of the citizen. So the State will be against the good man, the man of intelligence; but such a man is free from all governments and countries. The intelligent man will bring about a good society; but a good citizen will not give birth to a society in which man can be of the highest intelligence. The conflict between the citizen and the man is inevitable if the citizen predominates; and any society which deliberately disregards the man is doomed. There is reconciliation between the citizen and the man only when the psychological process of man is understood. The State, the present society, is not concerned with the inner man, but only with the outer man, the citizen. It may deny the inner man, but he always overcomes the outer, destroying the plans cunningly devised for the citizen. The State sacrifices the present for the future, ever safeguarding itself for the future; it regards the future as all-important, and not the present. But to the intelligent man, the present is of the highest importance, the now and not the tomorrow. What is can be understood only with the fading of tomorrow. The understanding of what is brings about transformation in the immediate present. It is this transformation that is of supreme importance, and not how to reconcile the citizen with the man. When this transformation takes place, the conflict between the man and the citizen ceases. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 22 'THE SELF' IN THE OPPOSITE seat sat a man of position and authority. He was well aware of this, for his looks, his gestures, his attitude proclaimed his importance. He was very high up in the Government, and the people about him were very obsequious. He was saying in a loud voice to somebody that it was outrageous to disturb him about some minor official task. He was rumbling about the doings of his workers, and the listeners looked nervous and apprehensive. We were flying far above the clouds, eighteen thousand feet, and through the gaps in the clouds was the blue sea. When the clouds somewhat opened up, there were the mountains covered with snow, the islands and the wide, open bays. How far away and how beautiful were the solitary houses and the small villages! A river came down to the sea from the mountains. It flowed past a very large town, smoky and dull, where its waters became polluted, but a little farther on they were again clean and sparkling. A few seats away was an officer in uniform, his chest covered with ribbons, confident and aloof. He belonged to a separate class that exists all over the world. Why is it that we crave to be recognized, to be made much of, to be encouraged? Why is it that we are such snobs? Why is it that we cling to our exclusiveness of name, position, acquisition? Is anonymity degrading, and to be unknown despicable? Why do we pursue the famous, the popular? Why is it that we are not content to be ourselves? Are we frightened and ashamed of what we are, that name, position and acquisition become so all-important? It is curious how strong is the desire to be recognized, to be applauded. In the excitement of a battle, one does incredible things for which one is honoured; one becomes a hero for killing a fellow man. Through privilege, cleverness, or capacity and efficiency, one arrives somewhere near the top - though the top is never the top, for there is always more and more in the intoxication of success. The country or the business is yourself; on you depend the issues, you are the power. Organized religion offers position, prestige and honour; there too you are somebody, apart and important. Or again you become the disciple of a teacher, of a guru or Master, or you co-operate with them in their work. You are still important, you represent them, you share their responsibility, you have and others receive. Though in their name, you are still the means. You may put on a loincloth or the monk's robe, but it is you who are making the gesture, it is you who are renouncing. In one way or another, subtly or grossly, the self is nourished and sustained. Apart from its antisocial and harmful activities, why has the self to maintain itself? Though we are in turmoil and sorrow, with passing pleasures, why does the self cling to outer and inner gratifications, to pursuits that inevitably bring pain and misery? The thirst for positive activity as opposed to negation makes us strive to be; our striving makes us feel that we are alive, that there is a purpose to our life, that we shall progressively throw off the causes of conflict and sorrow. We feel that if our activity stopped, we would be nothing, we would be lost, life would have no meaning at all; so we keep going in conflict, in confusion, in antagonism. But we are also aware that there is something more, that there is an otherness which is above and beyond all this misery. Thus we are in constant battle within ourselves. The greater the outward show, the greater the inward poverty; but freedom from this poverty is not the loincloth. The cause of this inward emptiness is the desire to become; and, do what you will, this emptiness can never be filled. You may escape from it in a crude way, or with refinement; but it is as near to you as your shadow. You may not want to look into this emptiness, but nevertheless it is there. The adornments and the renunciations that the self assumes can never cover this inward poverty. By its activities, inner and outer, the self tries to find enrichment, calling it experience or giving it a different name according to its convenience and gratification. The self can never be anonymous; it may take on a new robe, assume a different name, but identity is its very substance. This identifying process prevents the awareness of its own nature. The cumulative process of identification builds up the self, positively or negatively; and its activity is always self-enclosing, however wide the enclosure. Every effort of the self to be or not to be is a movement away from what it is. Apart from its name, attributes, idiosyncrasies, possessions, what is the self? Is there the "I," the self, when its qualities are taken away? It is this fear of being nothing that drives the self into activity; but it is nothing, it is an emptiness. If we are able to face that emptiness, to be with that aching loneliness, then fear altogether disappears and a fundamental transformation takes place. For this to happen, there must be the experiencing of that nothingness - which is prevented if there is an experiencer. If there is a desire for the experiencing of that emptiness in order to overcome it, to go above and beyond it, then there is no experiencing; for the self, as an identity, continues. If the experiencer has an experience, there is no longer the state of experiencing. It is the experiencing of what is without naming it that brings about freedom from what is. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 23 'BELIEF' WE WERE HIGH up in the mountains and it was very dry. There had been no rain for many months, and the little streams were silent. The pine trees were turning brown, and some were already dead, but the wind was among them. The mountains stretched out, fold after fold, to the horizon. Most of the wild life had gone away to cooler and better pastures; only the squirrels and a few jays remained. There were other smaller birds, but they were silent during the day. A dead pine was bleached white after many summers. It was beautiful even in death, graceful and strong without the blur of sentiment. The earth was hard and the paths were rocky and dusty. She said that she had belonged to several religious societies, but had finally settled down in one. She had worked for it, as a lecturer and propagandist, practically all over the world. She said she had given up family, comfort and a great many other things for the sake of this organization; she had accepted its beliefs, its doctrines and precepts, had followed its leaders, and tried to meditate. She was regarded highly by the members as well as by the leaders. Now, she continued, having heard what I had said about beliefs, organizations, the dangers of self-deception, and so on, she had withdrawn from this organization and its activities. She was no longer interested in saving the world, but was occupying herself with her small family and its troubles, and took only a distant interest in the troubled world. She was inclined to be bitter, though outwardly kind and generous, for she said her life seemed so wasted. After all her past enthusiasm and work, where was she? What had happened to her? Why was she so dull and weary, and at her age so concerned with trivial things? How easily we destroy the delicate sensitivity of our being. The incessant strife and struggle, the anxious escapes and fears, soon dull the mind and the heart; and the cunning mind quickly finds substitutes for the sensitivity of life. Amusements, family, politics, beliefs and gods take the place of clarity and love. Clarity is lost by knowledge and belief and love by sensations. Does belief bring clarity? Does the tightly enclosing wall of belief bring understanding? What is the necessity of beliefs, and do they not darken the already crowded mind? The understanding of what is does not demand beliefs, but direct perception, which is to be directly aware without the interference of desire. It is desire that makes for confusion, and belief is the extension of desire. The ways of desire are subtle, and without understanding them belief only increases conflict, confusion and antagonism. The other name for belief is faith, and faith is also the refuge of desire. We turn to belief as a means of action. Belief gives us that peculiar strength which comes from exclusion; and as most of us are concerned with doing, belief becomes a necessity. We feel we cannot act without belief, because it is belief that gives us something to live for, to work for. To most of us, life has no meaning but that which belief gives it; belief has greater significance than life, We think that life must be lived in the pattern of belief; for without a pattern of some kind, how can there be action? So our action is based on idea, or is the outcome of an idea; and action, then, is not as important as idea. Can the things of the mind, however brilliant and subtle, ever bring about the completeness of action, a radical transformation in one's being and so in the social order? Is idea the means of action? Idea may bring about a certain series of actions, but that is mere activity; and activity is wholly different from action. It is in this activity that one is caught; and when for some reason or other activity stops, then one feels lost and life becomes meaningless, empty. We are aware of this emptiness, consciously or unconsciously, and so idea and activity become all-important. We fill this emptiness with belief, and activity becomes an intoxicating necessity. For the sake of this activity, we will renounce; we will adjust ourselves to any inconvenience, to any illusion. The activity of belief is confusing and destructive; it may at first seem orderly and constructive, but in its wake there is con- flict and misery. Every kind of belief, religious or political, prevents the understanding of relationship, and there can be no action without this understanding. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 24 'SILENCE' IT WAS A powerful motor and well tuned; it took the hills easily, without a stutter, and the pick-up was excellent. The road climbed steeply out of the valley and ran between orchards of orange and tall, wide-spreading walnut trees. On both sides of the road the orchards stretched for fully forty miles, up to the very foot of the mountains. Becoming straight, the road passed through one or two small towns, and then continued into the open country, which was bright green with alfalfa. Again winding through many hills, the road finally came out on to the desert. It was a smooth road, the hum of the motor was steady, and the traffic was very light. There was an intense awareness of the country, of the occasional passing car, of the road signals, of the clear blue sky, of the body sitting in the car; but the mind was very still. It was not the quietness of exhaustion, or of relaxation, but a stillness that was very alert. There was no point from which the mind was still; there was no observer of this tranquillity; the experiencer was wholly absent. Though there was desultory conversation, there was no ripple in this silence. One heard the roar of the wind as the car sped along, yet this stillness was inseparable from the noise of the wind, from the sounds of the car, and from the spoken word. The mind had no recollection of previous stillnesses, of those silences it had known; it did not say, "This is tranquillity." There was no verbalization, which is only the recognition and the affirmation of a somewhat similar experience. Because there was no verbalization, thought was absent. There was no recording, and therefore thought was not able to pick up the silence or to think about it; for the word "stillness" is not stillness. When the word is not, the mind cannot operate, and so the experiencer cannot store up as a means of further pleasure. There was no gathering process at work, nor was there approximation or assimilation. The movement of the mind was totally absent. The car stopped at the houses The barking of the dog, the unpacking of the car and the general disturbance in no way affected this extraordinary silence. There was no disturbance, and the stillness went on. The wind was among the pines, the shadows were long, and a wildcat sneaked away among the bushes. In this silence there was movement, and the movement was not a distraction. There was no fixed attention from which to be distracted. There is distraction when the main interest shifts; but in this silence there was absence of interest, and so there was no wandering away. Movement was not away from the silence but was of it. It was the stillness, not of death, of decay, but of life in which there was a total absence of conflict. With most of us, the struggle of pain and pleasure, the urge of activity, gives us the sense of life; and if that urge were taken away, we should be lost and soon disintegrate. But this stillness and its movement was creation ever renewing itself. It was a movement that had no beginning and so had no ending; nor was it a continuity. Movement implies time; but here there was no time. Time is the more and the less, the near and the far, yesterday and tomorrow; but in this stillness all comparison ceased. It was not a silence that came to an end to begin again; there was no repetition. The many tricks of the cunning mind were wholly absent. If this silence were an illusion the mind would have some relationship to it, it would either reject it or cling to it, reason it away or with subtle satisfaction identify itself with it; but since it has no relationship to this silence, the mind cannot accept or deny it. The mind can operate only with its own projections, with the things which are of itself; but it has no relationship with the things that are not of its own origin. This silence is not of the mind, and so the mind cannot cultivate or become identified with it. The content of this silence is not to be measured by words. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 25 'RENUNCIATION OF RICHES' WE WERE SITTING in the shade of a large tree, overlooking a green valley. The woodpeckers were busy and there were ants in a long line scurrying back and forth between two trees. The wind was from the sea, bringing the smell of a distant fog. The mountains were blue and dreamy; often they had seemed so close, but now they were far away. A small bird was drinking from the little pool made by a leaky pipe. Two grey squirrels with large bushy tails were chasing each other up and down a tree; they would climb to the top and come spinning down with mad speed almost to the ground, and then go up again. He was once a very rich man and had renounced his riches. He had had a great many possessions and had enjoyed the burden of their responsibility, for he was charitable and not too hard of heart. He gave without stint and forgot what he gave. He was good to his helpers and saw to their benefits, and made money easily in a world that was bent on moneymaking. He was unlike those whose bank accounts and investments are bigger than themselves, who are lonely and afraid of people and their demands, who shut themselves off in the peculiar atmosphere of their wealth. He was not a threat to his family nor did he yield easily, and he had many friends, but not because he was rich. He was saying that he had given up his possessions because it had struck him one day, as he was reading something, how vastly stupid were his moneymaking and his wealth. Now he had but few things and was trying to lead a simple life to find out what it was all about and whether there was something beyond the appetites of the physical centres. To be content with little is comparatively easy; to be free from the burden of many things is not difficult when one is on a journey looking for something else. The urgency of inward search clears away the confusion of many possessions, but being free from outer things does not mean a simple life. Outer simplicity and order do not necessarily mean inner tranquillity and innocence. It is good to be simple outwardly, for it does give a certain freedom, it is a gesture of integrity; but why is it that we invariably begin with the outer and not with the inner simplicity. Is it to convince ourselves and others of our intention? Why do we have to convince ourselves. Freedom from things needs intelligence, not gestures and convictions; and intelligence is not personal. If one is aware of all the implications of many possessions, that very awareness liberates, and then there is no need for dramatic assertions and gestures. It is when this intelligent awareness is not functioning that we resort to disciplines and detachments. The emphasis is not on much or little, but on intelligence; and the intelligent man, being content with little, is free from many possessions. But contentment is one thing and simplicity is quite another. The desire for contentment or for simplicity is binding. Desire makes for complexity. Contentment comes with the awareness of what is, and simplicity with the freedom from what is. It is well to be outwardly simple, but it is far more important to be inwardly simple and clear. Clarity does not come through a determined and purposeful mind; the mind cannot create it. The mind can adjust itself, can arrange and put its thoughts in order; but this is not clarity or simplicity. The action of will makes for confusion; because will, however sublimated, is still the instrument of desire. The will to be, to become, however worth while and noble, may have a directive, may clear a way amidst confusion; but such a process leads to isolation, and clarity cannot come through isolation. The action of will may temporarily light up the immediate foreground, necessary for mere activity, but it can never clear up the background; for will itself is the outcome of this very background. The background breeds and nourishes the will, and will may sharpen the background, heighten its potentialities; but it can never cleanse the background. Simplicity is not of the mind. A planned simplicity is only a cunning adjustment, a defence against pain and pleasure; it is a self-enclosing activity which breeds various forms of conflict and confusion. It is conflict that brings darkness, within and without. Conflict and clarity cannot exist together; and it is freedom from conflict that gives simplicity, not the overcoming of conflict. What is conquered has to be conquered again and again, and so conflict is made endless. The understanding of conflict is the understanding of desire. Desire may abstract itself as the observer, the one who understands; but this sublimation of desire is only postponement and not understanding. The phenomenon of the observer and the observed is not a dual process, but a single one; and only in experiencing the fact of this unitary process is there freedom from desire, from conflict. The question of how to experience this fact should never arise. It must happen; and it happens only when there is alertness and passive awareness. You cannot know the actual experience of meeting a poisonous snake by imagining or speculating about it while sitting comfortably in your room. To meet the snake you must venture out beyond the paved streets and artificial lights. Thought may record but it cannot experience the freedom from conflict; for simplicity or clarity is not of the mind. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 26 'REPETITION AND SENSATION' THE ROAR AND smell of the city came in through the open window. In the large square garden, people were sitting in the shade reading the news, the global gossip. Pigeons strutted about their feet looking for titbits, and children were playing on the green lawns. The sun made beautiful shadows. He was a reporter, quick and intelligent. He not only wanted an interview, but also wanted to discuss some of his own problems. When the interview for his newspaper was over, he talked of his career and what it was worth - not financially, but its significance in the world. He was a big man, clever, capable and confident. He was climbing rapidly in the newspaper world, and in it there was a future for him. Our minds are stuffed with so much knowledge that it is almost impossible to experience directly. The experience of of the experience is after the pattern of others, of the religious and social authorities. We are the result of the thoughts and influences of others; we are conditioned by religious as well as political propaganda. The temple, the church and the mosque have a strange, shadowy influence in our lives, and political ideologies give apparent substance to our thought. We are made and destroyed by propaganda. Organized religions are first-rate propagandists, every means being used to persuade and then to hold. We are a mass of confused responses, and our centre is as uncertain as the promised future. Mere words have an extraordinary significance for us; they have a neurological effect whose sensations are more important than what is beyond the symbol. The symbol, the image, the flag, the sound, are all-important; substitution, and not reality, is our strength. We read about the experiences of others, we watch others play, we follow the example of others, we quote others. We are empty in ourselves and we try to fill this emptiness with words, sensations, hopes and imagination; but the emptiness continues. Repetition, with its sensations, however pleasant and noble, is not the state of experiencing; the constant repetition of a ritual, of a word, of a prayer, is a gratifying sensation to which a noble term is given. But experiencing is not sensation, and sensory response soon yields place to actuality. The actual, the what i, cannot be understood through mere sensation. The senses play a limited part, but understanding or experiencing lies beyond and above the senses. Sensation becomes important only when experiencing ceases; then words are significant and symbols dominate; then the gramophone becomes enchanting. Experiencing is not a continuity; for what has continuity is sensation, at whatever level. The repetition of sensation gives the appearance of a fresh experience, but sensations can never be new. The search of the new does not lie in repetitive sensations. The new comes into being only when there is experiencing; and experiencing is possible only when the urge and the pursuit of sensation have ceased. The desire for the repetition of an experience is the binding quality of sensation, and the enrichment of memory is the expansion of sensation. The desire for the repetition of an experience, whether your own or that of another, leads to insensitivity, to death. Repetition of a truth is a lie. Truth cannot be repeated, it cannot be propagated or used. That which can be used and repeated has no life in itself, it is mechanical, static. A dead thing can be used, but not truth. You may kill and deny truth first, and then use it; but it is no longer truth. The propagandists are not concerned with experiencing; they are concerned with the organization of sensation, religious or political, social or private. The propagandist, religious or secular, cannot be a speaker of truth. Experiencing can come only with the absence of the desire for sensation; the naming, the terming must cease. There is no thought process without verbalization; and to be caught in verbalization is to be a prisoner to the illusions of desire. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 27 'THE RADIO AND MUSIC' IT IS OBVIOUS that radio music is a marvellous escape. Next door, they kept the thing going all day long and far into the night. The father went off to his office fairly early. The mother and daughter worked in the house or in the garden; and when they worked in the garden the radio blared louder. Apparently the son also enjoyed the music and the commercials, for when he was at home the radio went on just the same. By means of the radio one can listen endlessly to every kind of music, from the classical to the very latest; one can hear mystery plays, news, and all the things that are constantly being broadcast. There need be no conversation, no exchange of thought, for the radio does almost everything for you. The radio, they say, helps students to study; and there is more milk if at milking time the cows have music. The odd part about all this is that the radio seems to alter so little the course of life. It may make some things a little more convenient; we may have global news more quickly and hear murders described most vividly; but information is not going to make us intelligent. The thin layer of information about the horrors of atomic bombing, about international alliances, research into chlorophyll, and so on, does not seem to make any fundamental difference in our lives. We are as war-minded as ever, we hate some other group of people, we despise this political leader and support that, we are duped by organized religions, we are nationalistic, and our miseries continue; and we are intent on escapes, the more respectable and organized the better. To escape collectively is the highest form of security. In facing what is, we can do something about it; but to take flight from what is inevitably makes us stupid and dull, slaves to sensation and confusion. Does not music offer us, in a very subtle way, a happy release from what is? Good music takes us away from ourselves, from our daily sorrows, pettiness and anxieties, it makes us forget; or it gives us strength to face life, it inspires, invigorates and pacifies us. It becomes a necessity in either case, whether as a means of forgetting ourselves or as a source of inspiration. Dependence on beauty and avoidance of the ugly is an escape which becomes a torturing issue when our escape is cut off. When beauty becomes necessary to our well-being, then experiencing ceases and sensation begins. The moment of experiencing is totally different from the pursuit of sensation. In experiencing there is no awareness of the experiencer and his sensations. When experiencing comes to an end, then begin the sensations of the experiencer; and it is these sensations that the experiencer demands and pursues. When sensations become a necessity, then music, the river, the painting are only a means to further sensation. Sensations become all-dominant, and not experiencing. The longing to repeat an experience is the demand for sensation; and while sensations can be repeated, experiencing cannot. It is the desire for sensation that makes us cling to music, possess beauty. Dependence on outward line and form only indicates the emptiness of our own being, which we fill with music, with art, with deliberate silence. It is because this unvarying emptiness is filled or covered over with sensations that there is the everlasting fear of what is, of what we are. Sensations have a beginning and an end, they can be repeated and expanded; but experiencing is not within the limits of time. What is essential is experiencing, which is denied in the pursuit or sensation. Sensations are limited, personal, they cause conflict and misery; but experiencing, which is wholly different from the repetition of an experience, is without continuity. Only in experiencing is there renewal, transforation. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 28 'AUTHORITY' THE SHADOWS WERE dancing on the green lawn; and though the sun was hot, the sky was very blue and soft. From across the fence a cow was looking at the green lawn and at the people. The gathering of people was strange to her, but the green grass was familiar, though the rains were long gone ind the earth was burnt brown. A lizard was picking off flies and other insects on the trunk of an oak. The distant mountains were hazy and inviting. She said, under the trees after the talk, that she had come to listen in case the teacher of teachers spoke. She had been very earnest, but now that earnestness had become obstinacy. This obstinacy was covered over by smiles and by reasonable tolerance, a tolerance that had been very carefully thought out and cultivated; it was a thing of the mind and so could be inflamed into violent, angry intolerance. She was big and soft-spoken; but there lurked condemnation, nourished by her convictions and beliefs. She was suppressed and hard, but had given herself over to brotherhood and to its good cause. She added, after a pause, that she would know when the teacher spoke, for she and her group had some mysterious way of knowing it, which was not even to others. The pleasure of exclusive knowledge was so obvious in the way she said it, in the gesture and the tilt of the head. Exclusive, private knowledge offers deeply satisfying pleasure. To know something that others do not know is a constant source of satisfaction; it gives one the feeling of being in touch with deeper things which afford prestige and authority. You are directly in contact, you have something which others have not, and so you are important, not only to yourself, but to others. The others look up to you, a little apprehensively, because they want to share what you have; but you give, always knowing more. You are the leader, the authority; and this position comes easily, for people want to be told, to be led. The more we are aware that we are lost and confused, the more eager we are to be guided and told; so authority is built up in the name of the State, in the name of religion, in the name of a Master or a party leader. The worship of authority, whether in big or little things, is evil, the more so in religious matters. There is no intermediary between you and reality; and if there is one, he is a perverter, a mischief maker, it does not matter who he is, whether the highest saviour or your latest guru or teacher. The one who knows does not know; he can know only his own prejudices, his self-projected beliefs and sensory demands. He cannot know truth, the immeasurable. position and authority can be built up, cunningly cultivated, but not humility. Virtue gives freedom; but cultivated humility is not virtue, it is mere sensation and therefore harmful and destructive; it is a bondage, to be broken again and again. It is important to find out, not who is the Master, the saint, the leader, but why you follow. You only follow to become something, to gain, to be clear. Clarity cannot be given by another. Confusion is in us; we have brought it about, and we have to clear it away. We may achieve a gratifying position, an inward security, a place in the hierarchy of organized belief; but all this is self-enclosing activity leading to conflict and misery. You may feel momentarily happy in your achievement, you may persuade yourself that your position is inevitable, that it is your lot; but as long as you want to become something, at whatever level, there is bound to be misery and confusion. Being as nothing is not negation. The positive or negative action of will, which is desire sharpened and heightened, always leads to strife and conflict; it is not the means of understanding. The setting up of authority and the following of it is the denial of understanding. When there is understanding there is freedom, which cannot be bought, or given by another. What is bought can be lost, and what is given can be taken away; and so authority and its fear are bred. Fear is not to be put away by appeasements and candles; it ends with the cessation of the desire to become. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 29 'MEDITATION' HE HAD PRACTISED a number of years what he called meditation; he had followed certain disciplines after reading many books on the subject, and had been to a monastery of some kind where they meditated several hours a day. He was not sentimental about it, nor was he blurred by the tears of self-sacrifice. He said that, though after these many years his mind was under control, it still sometimes got out of control; that there was no joy in his meditation; and that the self-imposed disciplines were making him rather hard and arid. Somehow he was very dissatisfied with the whole thing. He had belonged to several so-called religious societies, but now he had finished with them all and was seeking independently the God they all promised. He was getting on in years and was beginning to feel rather weary. Right meditation is essential for the purgation of the mind, for without the emptying of the mind there can be no renewal. Mere continuity is decay. The mind withers away by constant repetition, by the friction of wrong usage, by sensations which make it dull and weary. The control of the mind is not important; what is important is to find out the interests of the mind. The mind is a bundle of conflicting interests, and merely to strengthen one interest against another is what we call concentration, the process of discipline. Discipline is the cultivation of resistance, and where there is resistance there is no understanding. A well-disciplined mind is not a free mind, and it is only in freedom that any discovery can be made. There must be spontaneity to uncover the movements of the self, at whatever level it may be placed. Though there may be unpleasant discoveries, the movements of the self must be exposed and understood; but disciplines destroy the spontaneity in which discoveries are made. Disciplines, however exacting, fix the mind in a pattern. The mind will adjust itself to that for which it has been trained; but that to which it adjusts itself is not the real. Disciplines are mere impositions and so can never be the means of denudation. Through self-discipline the mind can strengthen itself in its purpose; but this purpose is self-projected and so it is not the real. The mind creates reality in its own image, and disciplines merely give vitality to that image. Only in discovery can there be joy - the discovery from moment to moment of the ways of the self. The self, at whatever level it is placed, is still of the mind. Whatever the mind can think about is of the mind. The mind cannot think about something which is not of itself; it cannot think of the unknown. The self at any level is the known; and though there may be layers of the self of which the superficial mind is not aware, they are revealed in the action of relationship; and when relationship is not confined within a pattern, it gives an opportunity for self-revelation. Relationship is the action of the self, and to understand this action there must be awareness without choice; for to choose is to emphasize one interest against another. This awareness is the experiencing of the action of the self, and in this experiencing there is neither the experiencer nor the experienced. Thus the mind is emptied of its accumulations; there is no longer the "me," the gatherer. The accumulations, the stored-up memories are the "me; the "me" is not an entity apart from the accumulations. The "me" separates itself from its characteristics as the observer, the watcher, the controller, in order to safe- guard itself, to give itself continuity amidst impermanency. The experiencing of the integral, unitary process frees the mind from its dualism. Thus the total process of the mind, the open as well as the hidden, is experienced and understood - not piece by piece, activity by activity, but in its entirety. Then dreams and everyday activities are ever an emptying process. The mind must be utterly empty to receive; but the craving to be empty in order to receive is a deep-seated impediment, and this also must be understood completely, not at any particular level. The craving to experience must wholly cease, which happens only when the experiencer is not nourishing himself on experiences and their memories. The purgation of the mind must take place not only on its upper levels, but also in its hidden depths; and this can happen only when the naming or terming process comes to an end. Naming only strengthens and gives continuity to the experiencer, to the desire for permanency, to the characteristic of particularizing memory. There must be silent awareness of naming, and so the understanding of it. We name not only to communicate, but also to give continuity and substance to an experience, to revive it and to repeat its sensations. This naming process must cease, not only on the superficial levels of the mind, but throughout its entire structure. This is an arduous task, not to be easily understood or lightly experienced; for our whole consciousness is a process of naming or terming experience, and then storing or recording it. It is this process that gives nourishment and strength to the illusory entity, the experiencer as distinct and separate from the experience. Without thoughts there is no thinker. Thoughts create the thinker, who isolates himself to give himself permanency; for thoughts are always impermanent. There is freedom when the entire being, the superficial as well as the hidden, is purged of the past. Will is desire; and if there is any action of the will, any effort to be free, to denude oneself, then there can never be freedom, the total purgation of the whole being. When all the many layers of consciousness are quiet, utterly still, only then is there the immeasurable, the bliss that is not of time, the renewal of creation. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 30 'ANGER' EVEN AT THAT altitude the heat was penetrating. The windowpanes felt warm to the touch. The steady hum of the plane's motor was soothing, and many of the passengers were dozing. The earth was far below us, shimmering in the heat, an unending brown with an occasional patch of green. Presently we landed, and the heat became all but unbearable; it was literally painful, and even in the shade of a building the top of one's head felt as if it would burst. The summer was well along and the country was almost a desert. We took off again and the plane climbed, seeking the cool winds. Two new passengers sat in the opposite seats and they were talking loudly; it was impossible not to overhear them. They began quietly enough; but soon anger crept into their voices, the anger of familiarity and resentment. In their violence they seemed to have forgotten the rest of the passengers; they were so upset with each other that they alone existed, and none else. Anger has that peculiar quality of isolation; like sorrow, it cuts one off, and for the time being, at least, all relationship comes to an end. Anger has the temporary strength and vitality of the isolated. There is a strange despair in anger; for isolation is despair. The anger of disappointment, of jealousy, of the urge to wound, gives a violent release whose pleasure is self-justification. We condemn others, and that very condemnation is a justification of ourselves. Without some kind of attitude, whether of self-righteousness or self-abasement, what are we? We use every means to bolster ourselves up; and anger, like hate, is one of the easiest ways. Simple anger, a sudden flare-up which is quickly forgotten, is one thing; but the anger that is deliberately built up, that has been brewed and that seeks to hurt and destroy, is quite another matter. Simple anger may have some physiological cause which can be seen and remedied; but the anger that is the outcome of a psychological cause is much more subtle and difficult to deal with. Most of us do not mind being angry, we find an excuse for it. Why should we not be angry when there is ill-treatment of another or of ourselves? So we become righteously angry. We never just say we are angry, and stop there; we go into elaborate explanations of its cause. We never just say that we are jealous or bitter, but justify or explain it. We ask how there can be love without jealousy, or say that someone else's actions have made us bitter, and so on. It is the explanation, the verbalization, whether silent or spoken, that sustains anger, that gives it scope and depth. The explanation silent or spoken, acts as a shield against the discovery of ourselves as we are. We want to be praised or flattered, we expect something; and when these things do not take place, we are disappointed, we become bitter or jealous. Then, violently or softly, we blame someone else; we say the other is responsible for our bitterness. You are of great significance because I depend upon you for my happiness, for my position or prestige. Through you, I fulfil, so you are important to me; I must guard you, I must possess you. Through you, I escape from myself; and when I am thrown back upon myself, being fearful of my own state, I become angry. Anger takes many forms: disappointment, resentment, bitterness, jealousy, and so on. The storing up of anger, which is resentment, requires the antidote of forgiveness; but the storing up of anger is far more significant than forgiveness. Forgiveness is unnecessary when there is no accumulation of anger. Forgiveness is essential if there is resentment; but to be free from flattery and from the sense of injury, without the hardness of indifference, makes for mercy, charity. Anger cannot be got rid of by the action of will, for will is part of violence. Will is the outcome of desire, the craving to lie; and desire in its very nature is aggressive, dominant. To suppress anger by the exertion of will is to transfer anger to a different level, giving it a different name; but it is still part of violence. To be free from violence, which is not the cultivation of non-violence, there must be the understanding of desire. There is no spiritual substitute for desire; it cannot be suppressed or sublimated. There must be a silent and choiceless awareness of desire; and this passive awareness is the direct experiencing of desire without an experiencer giving it a name. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 31 'PSYCHOLOGICAL SECURITY' HE SAID HE had gone into the question very thoroughly, had read as much as he could of what had been written on the subject, and he was convinced that there were Masters in different parts of the world. They did not show themselves physically except to their special disciples, but they were in communication with others through other means. They exerted a beneficent influence and guided the leaders of the world's thought and action, though the leaders themselves were unaware of it; and they brought about revolution and peace. He was convinced, he said, that each continent had a group of Masters, shaping its destiny and giving it their blessing. He had known several pupils of the Masters - at least they had told him they were, he added guardedly. He was entirely earnest and desired more knowledge about the Masters. Was it possible to have direct experience, direct contact with them? How still the river was! Two brilliant little kingfishers were flying up and down close to the bank and just above the surface; there were some bees gathering water for their hives, and a fisherman's boat lay in the middle of the stream. The trees along the river were thick with leaves, and their shadows were heavy and dark, in the fields the newly planted rice was a vivid green, and there were white ricebirds calling. It was a very peaceful scene, and it seemed a pity to talk over our petty little problems. The sky was the tender blue of evening. The noisy towns were far away; there was a village across the river, and a winding path went meandering along the bank, A boy was singing in a clear, high voice which did not disturb the tranquility of the place. We are an odd people; we wander in search of something in far-off places when it is so close to us. Beauty is ever there, never here; truth is never in our homes but in some distant place. We go to the other side of the world to find the Master, and we are not aware of the servant; we do not understand the common things of life, the everyday struggles and joys, and yet we attempt to grasp the mysterious and the hidden. We do not know ourselves, but we are willing to serve or follow him who promises a reward, a hope, a Utopia. As long as we are confused, what we choose must also be confused. We cannot perceive clearly when we are half-blind; and what we then see is only partial and so not real. We know all this, and yet our desires, our cravings are so strong that they drive us into illusions and endless miseries. Belief in the Master creates the Master, and experience is shaped by belief. Belief in a particular pattern of action, or in an ideology, does produce what is longed for; but at what cost and at what suffering! If an individual has capacity, then belief becomes a potent thing in his hands, a weapon more dangerous than a gun. For most of us, belief has greater meaning than actuality. The understanding of what is does not require belief; on the contrary, belief, idea, prejudice, is a definite hindrance to understanding. But we prefer our beliefs, our dogmas; they warm us, they promise, they encourage. If we understood the way of our beliefs and why we cling to them, one of the major causes of antagonism would disappear. The desire to gain, individually or for a group, leads to ignorance and illusion, to destruction and misery. This desire is not only for more and more physical comforts, but also for power: the power of money, of knowledge, of identification. The craving for more is the beginning of conflict and misery. We try to escape from this misery through every form of self-deception, through suppression, substitution and sublimation; but craving continues, perhaps at a different level. Craving at any level is still conflict and pain. One of the easiest of escapes is the guru, the Master. Some escape through a political ideology with its activities, others through the sensations of ritual and discipline, and still others through the Master. Then the means of escape become all-important, and fear and obstinacy guard the means. Then it does not matter what you are; it is the Master who is important. You are important only as a server, whatever that may mean, or as a disciple. To become one of these, you have to do certain things, conform to certain patterns, undergo certain hardships. You are willing to do all this and more, for identification gives pleasure and power. In the name of the Master, pleasure and power have become respectable. You are no longer lonely, confused, lost; you belong to him, to the party, to the idea. You are safe. After all, that is what most of us want: to be safe, to be secure. To be lost with the many is a form of psychological security; to be identified with a group or with an idea, secular or spiritual, is to feel safe. That is why most of us cling to nationalism, even though it brings; increasing destruction and misery; that is why organized religion has such a strong hold on people, even though it divides and breeds antagonism. The craving for individual or group security brings on destruction, and to be safe psychologically engenders illusion. Our life is illusion and misery, with rare moments of clarity and joy, so anything that promises a haven we eagerly accept. Some see the futility of political Utopias and so turn religious, which is to find security and hope in Masters, in dogmas, in ideas. As belief shapes experience, the Masters become an inescapable reality. Once it has experienced the pleasure which identification brings, the mind is firmly entrenched and nothing can shake it; for its criterion is experience. But experience is not reality. Reality cannot be experienced. It is. If the experiencer thinks he experiences reality, then he knows only illusion. All knowledge of reality is illusion. Knowledge or experience must cease for the being of reality. Experience cannot meet reality. Experience shapes knowledge, and knowledge bends experience; they must both cease for reality to be. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 32 'SEPARATENESS' HE WAS A small and aggressive man, a professor at one of the universities. He had read so much that it was difficult for him to know where his own thoughts began and the thoughts of others ended, He said he had been an ardent nationalist and in a way had suffered for it. He had also been a practising religionist; but now he had thrown away all that rubbish, thank God, and was free of superstition. He asserted vehemently that all this psychological talk and discussion was misleading the people, and that what was of the greatest importance was the economic reorganization of man; for man lived by bread first, and after that everything else came to him. There must be a violent revolution and a new classless society established. The means did not matter if the end were achieved. If necessary they would forment chaos, and then take over and establish order of the right kind. Collectivism was essential, and all individual exploitation must be stamped out. He was very explicit about the future; and as man was the product of environment, they would shape man for the future; they would sacrifice everything for the future, for the world that is to be. The liquidation of present man was of little importance, for they knew the future. We may study history and translate historical fact according to our prejudices; but to be certain of the future is to be in illusion. Man is not the result of one influence only, he is vastly complex; and to emphasize one influence while minimizing others is to breed an imbalance which will lead to yet greater chaos and misery. Man is a total process. The totality must be understood and not merely a part, however temporarily important his part may be. The sacrificing of the present for the future is the insanity of those who are power-mad; and power is evil, These take to themselves the right of human direction; they are the new priests. Means and end are not separate, they are a joint phenomenon; the means create the end. Through violence there can never be peace; a police State cannot produce a peaceful citizen; through compulsion, freedom cannot be achieved. A classless society cannot be established if the party is all-powerful, it can never be the outcome of dictatorship. All this is obvious. The separateness of the individual is not destroyed through his identification with the collective or with an ideology. Substitution does not do away with the problem of separateness, nor can it be suppressed. Substitution and suppression may work for the time being, but separateness will erupt again more violently. Fear may temporarily push it into the background, but the problem is still there. The problem is not how to get rid of separateness, but why each one of us gives so much importance to it. The very people who desire to establish a classless society are by their acts of power and authority breeding division. You are separate from me, and I from another, and that is a fact; but why do we give importance to this feeling of separateness, with all its mischievous results? Though there is a great similarity between us all, yet we are dissimilar; and this dissimilarity gives each one the sense of importance in being separate: the separate family, name, property, and the feeling of being a separate entity. This separateness, this sense of individuality has caused enormous harm, and hence the desire for collective work and action, the sacrificing of the individual to the whole, and so on. Organized religions have tried to submit the will of the particular to that of the whole; and now the party, which assumes the role of the State, is doing its best to submerge the individual. Why is it that we cling to the feeling of separateness? Our sensations are separate and we live by sensations; we are sensations. Deprive us of sensations, pleasurable or painful, and we are not. Sensations are important to us, and they are identified with separateness. Private life and life as the citizen have different sensations at different levels, and when they clash there is conflict. But sensations are always at war with each other, whether in private life or in that of the citizen. Conflict is inherent in sensation. As long as I want to be powerful or humble, there must be the conflicts of sensation, which bring about private and social misery. The constant desire to be more or to be less gives rise to the feeling of individuality and its separateness. If we can remain with this fact without condemning or justifying it, we will discover that sensations do not make up our whole life. Then the mind as memory, which is sensation, becomes calm, no longer torn by its own conflicts; and only then, when the mind is silent and tranquil, is there a possibility of loving without the "me" and the "mine." Without this love, collective action is merely compulsion, breeding antagonism and fear, from which arise private and social conflicts. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 33 'POWER' HE WAS A very poor man, but capable and clever; he was content, or at least appeared so, with what little he possessed, and he had no family burdens. He often came to talk things over, and he had great dreams for the future; he was eager and enthusiastic, simple in his pleasures, and delighted in doing little things for others. He was not, he said, greatly attracted to money or to physical comfort; but he liked to describe what he would do if he had money, how he would support this or that how he would start the perfect school, and so on. He was rather dreamy and easily carried away by his own enthusiasm and by that of other? Several years passed, and then one day he came again. There was a strange transformation in him. The dreamy look had gone; he was matter-of-fact, definite, almost brutal in his opinions, and rather harsh in his judgements. He had travelled, and his manner was highly polished and sophisticated; he turned his charm on and off. He had been left a lot of money and was successful in increasing it many times, and he had become an altogether changed man. He hardly ever comes now; and when on rare occasions we do meet, he is distant and self-enclosed. Both poverty and riches are a bondage. The consciously poor and the consciously rich are the playthings of circumstances. Both are corruptible, for both seek that which is corrupting: power. Power is greater than possessions; power is greater than wealth and ideas. These do give power; but they can be put away, and yet the sense of power remains. One may beget power through simplicity of life, through virtue, through the party, through renunciation; but such means are a mere substitution and they should not deceive one. The desire for position, prestige and power - the power that is gained through aggression and humility, through asceticism and knowledge, through exploitation and self-denial - is subtly persuasive and almost instinctive. Such in any form is power, and failure is merely the denial of success. To be powerful, to be successful is to be slavish, which is the denial of virtue. Virtue gives freedom, but it is not a thing to be gained. Any achievement, whether of the individual or of the collective, becomes a means to power. Success in this world, and the power that self-control and self-denial bring, are to be avoided; for both distort understanding. It is the desire for success that prevents humility; and without humility how can there be understanding? The man of success is hardened, self-enclosed; he is burdened with his own importance, with his responsibilities, achievements and memories. There must be freedom from self-assumed responsibilities and from the burden of achievement; for that which is weighed down cannot be swift, and to understand requires a swift and pliable mind. Mercy is denied to the successful, for they are incapable of knowing the very beauty of life which is love. The desire for success is the desire for domination. To dominate is to possess, and possession is the way of isolation. This self-isolation is what most of us seek, through name, through relationship, through work, through ideation. In isolation there is power, but power breeds antagonism and pain; for isolation is the outcome of fear, and fear puts an end to all communion. Communion is relationship; and however pleasurable or painful relationship may be, in it there is the possibility of self-forgetfulness. Isolation is the way of the self, and all activity of the self brings conflict and sorrow. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 34 'SINCERITY' THERE WAS A little patch of green lawn, with brilliant flowers along its borders. It was beautifully kept and a great deal of care was given to it, for the sun did its best to burn the lawn and wither the flowers. Beyond this delicious garden, past many houses, was the blue sea, sparkling in the sun, and on it was a white sail. The room overlooked the garden, the houses and the tree tops, and from its window, in the early morning and early evening, the sea was pleasant to look upon. During the day its waters became bright and hard; but there was always a sail, even at high noon. The sun would go down into the sea, making a bright red path; there would be no twilight. The evening star would hover over the horizon, and disappear. The slip of the young moon would capture the evening, but she too would disappear into the restless sea, and darkness would be upon the waters. He spoke at length of God, of his morning and evening prayers, of his fasts, his vows, his burning desires. He expressed himself very clearly and definitely, there was no hesitation for the right word; his mind was well trained, for his profession demanded it. He was a bright-eyed and alert man, though there was a certain rigidity about him. Obstinacy of purpose and absence of pliability were shown in the way he held his body. He was obviously driven by an extraordinarily powerful will, and though he smiled easily his will was ever on the alert, watchful and dominant. He was very regular in his daily life, and he broke his established habits only by sanction of the will. Without will, he said, there could be no virtue; will was essential to break down evil. The battle between good and evil was everlasting, and will alone held evil at bay. He had a gentle side too, for he would look at the lawn and the gay flowers, and smile; but he never let his mind wander beyond the pattern of will and its action. Though he sedulously avoided harsh words, anger and any show of impatience, his will made him strangely violent. If beauty fitted into the pattern of his purpose, he would accept it; but there always lurked the fear of sensuality, whose ache he tried to contain. He was well read and urbane, and his will went with him like his shadow. Sincerity can never be simple; sincerity is the breeding ground of the will, and will cannot uncover the ways of the self. Self-knowledge is not the product of will; self-knowledge comes into being through awareness of the moment-by moment responses to the movement of life. Will shuts off these spontaneous responses, which alone reveal the structure of the self. Will is the very essence of desire; and to the understanding of desire, will becomes a hindrance. Will in any form, whether of the upper mind or of the deep-rooted desires, can never be passive; and it is only in passivity, in alert silence, that truth can be. Conflict is always between desires, at whatever level the desires may be placed. The strengthening of one desire in opposition to the others only breeds further resistance, and this resistance is will. Understanding can never come through resistance. What is important is to understand desire, and not to overcome one desire by another. The desire to achieve, to gain is the basis of sincerity; and this urge, however, superficial or deep, makes for conformity, which is the beginning of fear. Fear limits self-knowledge to the experienced, and so there is no possibility of transcending the experienced. Thus limited, self-knowledge only cultivates wider and deeper self-consciousness, the "me" becoming more and more at different levels and at different periods; so conflict and pain continue. You may deliberately forget or lose yourself in some activity, in cultivating a garden or an ideology, in whipping up in a whole people the raging fervour for war; but you are now the country, the idea, the activity, the god. The greater the identification, the more your conflict and pain are covered over, and so the everlasting struggle to be identified with something. This desire to be one with a chosen object brings the conflict of sincerity, which utterly denies simplicity. You may put ashes on your head, or wear a simple cloth, or wander as a beggar; but this is not simplicity. Simplicity and sincerity can never be companions. He who is identified with something, at whatever level, may be sincere, but he is not simple. The will to be is the very antithesis of simplicity. Simplicity comes into being with freedom from the acquisitive drive of the desire to achieve. Achievement is identification, and identification is will. Simplicity is the alert, passive awareness in which the experiencer is not recording the experience. Self-analysis prevents this negative awareness; in analysis there is always a motive - to be free, to understand, to gain - and this desire only emphasizes self-consciousness. Likewise, introspective conclusions arrest self-knowledge. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 35 'FULFILMENT' SHE WAS MARRIED, but had no children. In the worldly way, she said, she was happy; money was no problem, and there were cars, good hotels and wide travel. Her husband was a successful business man whose chief interest was to adorn his wife, to see that she was comfortable and had everything she desired. They were both quite young and friendly. She was interested in science and art, and had dabbled in religion; but now, she said, the things of the spirit were pushing everything else aside. She was familiar with the teachings of the various religions; but being dissatisfied with their organized efficiency, their rituals and dogmas, she wanted seriously to go in search of real things. She was intensely discontented, and had been to teachers in different parts of the world; but nothing had given her lasting satisfaction. Her discontent, she said, did not arise from her having had no children; she had gone into all that pretty thoroughly. Nor was the discontent caused by any social frustrations. She had spent some time with one of the prominent analysts, but there was still this inward ache and emptiness. To seek fulfilment is to invite frustration. There is no fulfilment of the self, but only the strengthening of the self through possessing what it craves for. Possession, at whatever level, makes the self feel potent, rich, active, and this sensation is called fulfilment; but as with all sensations, it soon fades, to be replaced by yet another gratification. We are all familiar with this process of replacement or substitution, and it is a game with which most of us are content. There are some, however, who desire a more enduring gratification, one that will last for the whole of one's life; and having found it, they hope never to be disturbed again. But there is a constant, unconscious fear of disturbance, and subtle forms of resistance are cultivated behind which the mind takes shelter; and so the fear of death is inevitable. Fulfilment and the fear of death are the two sides of one process: the strengthening of the self. After all, fulfilment is complete identification with something - with children, with property, with ideas. Children and property are rather risky, but ideas offer greater safety and security. Words, which are ideas and memories, with their sensations, become important; and fulfilment or completeness then becomes the word. There is no self-fulfilment, but only self-perpetuation, with its everincreasing conflicts, antagonisms and miseries. To seek lasting gratification at any level of our being is to bring about confusion and sorrow; for gratification can never be permanent. You may remember an experience which was satisfying, but the experience is dead, and only the memory of it remains. This memory has no life in itself; but life is given to it through your inadequate response to the present. You are living on the dead, as most of us do. Ignorance of the ways of the self leads to illusion; and once caught in the net of illusion, it is extremely hard to break through it. It is difficult to recognize an illusion, for, having created it, the mind cannot be aware of it. It must be approached negatively, indirectly. Unless the ways of desire are understood, illusion is inevitable. Understanding comes, not through the exertion of will, but only when the mind is still. The mind cannot be made still, for the maker himself is a product of the mind, of desire. There must be an awareness of this total process, a choiceless awareness; then only is there a possibility of not breeding illusion. Illusion is very gratifying, and hence our attachment to it. Illusion may bring pain, but this very pain exposes our incompleteness and drives us to be wholly identified with the illusion. Thus illusion has great significance in our lives; it helps to cover up what is, not externally but inwardly. This disregard of the inward what is leads to wrong interpretation of what is outwardly, which brings about destruction and misery. The covering up of what is is prompted by fear. Fear can never be overcome by an act of will, for will is the outcome of resistance. Only through passive yet alert awareness is there freedom from fear. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 36 'WORDS' HE HAD READ intensively; and though he was poor, he considered himself rich in knowledge, which gave him a certain happiness. He spent many hours with his books and a great deal of time by himself. His wife was dead, and his two children were with some relatives; and he was rather glad to be out of the mess of all relationship, he added. He was oddly self-contained, independent and quietly assertive. He had come a long way, he said, to go into the question of meditation, and especially to consider the use of certain chants and phrases, whose constant repetition was highly conducive to the pacification of the mind. Also, in the words themselves there was a certain magic; the words must be pronounced rightly and chanted correctly. These words were handed down from ancient times; and the very beauty of the words, with their rhythmic cadence, brought about an atmosphere that was helpful to concentration. And forthwith he began to chant. He had a pleasant voice, and there was a mellowness born of the love of the words and their meaning; he chanted with the ease of long practice and devotion. The moment he began to chant, he was lost to everything. From across the field came the sound of a flute; it was haltingly played, but the tone was clear and pure. The player was sitting in the rich shadow of a large tree, and beyond him in the distance were the mountains. The silent mountains, the chant, and the sound of the flute seemed to meet and disappear, to begin again. The noisy parrots flashed by; and once again there were the notes of the flute, and the deep, powerful chant. It was early in the morning, and the sun was coming over the trees. People were going from their villages to the town, chatting and laughing. The flute and the chant were insistent, and a few passers-by stopped to listen; they sat down on the path and were caught up in the beauty of the chant and the glory of the morning, which were not in any way disturbed by the whistle of a distant train; on the contrary, all sounds seemed to mingle and fill the earth. Even the loud calling of a crow was not jarring. How strangely we are caught in the sound of words, and how important the words themselves have become to us: country, God, priest, democracy, revolution. We live on words and delight in the sensations they produce; and it is these sensations that have become so important. Words are satisfying because their sounds reawaken forgotten sensations; and their satisfaction is greater when words are substituted for the actual, for what is. We try to fill our inward emptiness with words, with sound, with noise, with activity; music and the chant are a happy escape from ourselves, from our pettiness and boredom. Words fill our libraries; and how incessantly we talk! We hardly dare to be without a book, to be unoccupied, to be alone. When we are alone, the mind is restless, wandering all over the place, worrying, remembering, struggling; so there is never an aloneness, the mind is never still. Obviously, the mind can be made still by the repetition of a word, of a chant, of a prayer. The mind can be drugged, put to sleep; it can be put to sleep pleasantly or violently, and during this sleep there may be dreams. But a mind that is made quiet by discipline, by ritual, by repetition, can never be alert, sensitive and free. This bludgeoning of the mind, subtly or crudely, is not meditation. It is pleasant to chant and to listen to one who can do it well; but sensation lives only on further sensation, and sensation leads to illusion. Most of us like to live on illusions, there is pleasure in finding deeper and wider illusions; but it is fear of losing our illusions that makes us deny or cover up the real, the actual. It is not that we are incapable of understanding the actual; what makes us fearful is that we reject the actual and cling to the illusion. Getting caught deeper and deeper in illusion is not meditation, nor is decorating the cage which holds us. Awareness, without any choice, of the ways of the mind, which is the breeder of illusion, is the beginning of meditation. It is odd how easily we find substitutes for the real thing, and how contented we are with them. The symbol, the word, the image, becomes all-important, and around this symbol we build the structure of self-deception, using knowledge to strengthen it; and so experience becomes a hindrance to the understanding of the real. We name, not only to communicate, but to strengthen experience; this strengthening of experience is self-consciousness, and once caught in its process, it is extremely difficult to let go, that is, to go beyond self-consciousness. It is essential to die to the experience of yesterday and to the sensations of today, otherwise there is repetition; and the repetition of an act, of a ritual, of a word, is vain. In repetition there can be no renewal. The death of experience is creation. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 37 'IDEA AND FACT' SHE HAD BEEN married for a number of years, but had had no children; she was unable to have them, and was gravely disturbed by this fact. Her sisters had children, and why was she cursed? She had been married quite young, as was the custom, and had seen a lot of suffering; but she had known quiet joy too. Her husband was some kind of bureaucrat in a big corporation or Government department. He too was concerned about their not having children, but it appeared that he was becoming reconciled to this fact; and besides, she added, he was a very busy man. One could see that she dominated him, though not too heavily. She leaned on him, and so she could not help dominating him. Since she had no children, she was trying to fulfil herself in him; but in this she was disappointed, for he was weak and she had to take charge of things. In the office, she said smilingly, he was considered a stickler, a tyrant who threw his weight around; but at home he was mild and easy going. She wanted him to fit into a certain pattern, and she was forcing him, of course very gently, into her mould; but he was not coming up to scratch. She had nobody to lean on and give her love to. The idea is more important to us than the fact; the concept of what one should be has more significance than what one is. The future is always more alluring than the present. The image, the symbol, is of greater worth than the actual; and on the actual we try to superimpose the idea, the pattern. So we create a contradiction between what is and what should be. What should be is the idea, the fiction, and so there is a conflict between the actual and the illusion - not in themselves, but in us. We like the illusion better than the actual; the idea is more appealing, more satisfying, and so we cling to it. Thus the illusion becomes the real and the actual becomes the false, and in this conflict between the so-called real and the so-called false we are caught. Why do we cling to the idea, deliberately or unconsciously, and put aside the actual? The idea, the pattern, is self-projected; it is a form of self-worship, of self-perpetuation, and hence gratifying. The idea gives power to dominate, to be assertive, to guide, to shape; and in the idea, which is self-projected, there is never the denial of the self, the disintegration of the self. So the pattern or idea enriches the self; and this is also considered to be love. I love my son or my husband and I want him to be this or that, I want him to be something other than he is. If we are to understand what is, the pattern or idea must be put aside. To set aside the idea becomes difficult only when there is no urgency in the understanding of what is. Conflict exists in us between the idea and what is because the self-projected idea offers greater satisfaction than what is. It is only when what is, the actual, has to be faced that the pattern is broken; so it is not a matter of how to be free from the idea, but of how to face the actual. It is possible to face the actual only when there is an understanding of the process of gratification, the way of the self. We all seek self-fulfilment, though in many different ways: through money or power, through children or husband, through country or idea, through service or sacrifice, through domination or submission. But is there self-fulfilment? The object of fulfilment is ever self-projected, self-chosen, so this craving to fulfil is a form of self-perpetuation. Whether consciously or unconsciously, the way of self-fulfilment is self-chosen, it is based on the desire for gratification, which must be permanent; so the search for self-fulfilment is the search for the permanency of desire. Desire is ever transient, it has no fixed abode; it may perpetuate for a time the object to which it clings, but desire in itself has no permanency. We are instinctively aware of this, and so we try to make permanent the idea, the belief, the thing, the relationship; but as this also is impossible, there is the creation of the experiencer as a permanent essence, the "I" separate and different from desire, the thinker separate and different from his thoughts. This separation is obviously false, leading to illusion. The search for permanency is the everlasting cry of self-fulfilment; but the self can never fulfil, the self is impermanent, and that in which it fulfils must also he impermanent. Self-continuity is decay; in it there is no transforming element nor the breath of the new. The self must end for the new to be. The self is the idea, the pattern, the bundle of memories; and each fulfilment is the further continuity of idea, of experience. Experience is always conditioning; the experiencer is ever separating and differentiating himself from experience. So there must be freedom from experience, from the desire to experience. Fulfilment is the way of covering up inward poverty, emptiness, and in fulfilment there is sorrow and pain. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 38 'CONTINUITY' THE MAN IN the opposite seat began by introducing himself, as he wanted to ask several questions. He said that he had read practically every serious book on death and the hereafter, books from ancient times as well as the modern ones. He had been a member of the Psychical Research Society, had attended many seances with excellent and reputable mediums, and had seen many manifestations which were in no way faked. Because he had gone into this question so seriously, on several occasions he himself had seen things of a super-physical nature; but of course, he added, they might have been born of his imagination, though he considers that they were not. However, in spite of the fact that he had read extensively, had talked to many people who were well informed, and had seen undeniable manifestations of those who were dead, he was still not satisfied that he had understood the truth of the matter. He had seriously debated the problem of belief and not-belief; he had friends among those who firmly believed in one's continuity after death, and also among those who denied the whole thing and held that life ended with the death of the physical body. Though he had acquired considerable knowledge and experience in physic matters, there remained in his mind an element of doubt; and as he was getting on in year she wanted to know the truth. He was not afraid of death, but the truth about it must be known. The train had come to a stop, and just then a two-wheeled carriage was passing, drawn by a horse. On the carriage was a human corpse, wrapped in an unbleached cloth and tied to two long green bamboo poles, freshly cut. From some village it was being taken to the river to be burnt. As the carriage moved over the rough road, the body was being brutally shaken, and under its clothes the head was obviously getting the worst of it. There was only one passenger in the carriage besides the river; he must have been a near relative, for his eyes were red with much crying. The sky was the delicate blue of early spring, and children were playing and shouting in the dirt if the road. Death must have been a common sight, for everyone went of with what they were doing. Even the inquirer into death did not see the carriage and its burden. Belief conditions experience, and experience then strengthens belief. What you belief, you experience. The mind dictates and interprets experience, invites or rejects it. The mind itself is the result of experience, and it can recognize or experience only that with witch it is familiar, which it knows, at whatever level. The mind cannot experience what is not already known. The mind and its response are of greater significance then the experience; and to rely on experience as a means of understanding truth is to be caught in ignorance and illusion. To desire to experience truth is to deny truth; for desire conditions, and belief is another cloak of desire. Knowledge, belief, conviction, conclusion and experience are hindrances to truth; they are the very structure of the self. The self cannot be if there is no cumulative effect of experience; and the fear of death is the fear of not being, of not experiencing. If there were the assurance, the certainty of experiencing, there would be no fear. Fear exists only in the relationship between the known and the unknown. The known is ever trying to capture the unknown; but it can capture only that which is already known. The unknown can never be experienced by the known; the known, the experienced must cease for the unknown to be. The desire to experience truth must be searched out and understood; but if there is motive in the search, then truth does not come into being. Can there be search without a motive, conscious or unconscious? With a motive, is there search? If you already know what you want, if you have formulated an end, then search is a means to achieve that end, which is self-projected. Then search is for gratification, not for truth; and the means will be chosen according to the gratification. The understanding of what is needs no motive; the motive and the means prevent understanding. Search, which is choiceless awareness, is not for something; it is to be aware of the craving for an end and of the means to it. This choiceless awareness brings an understanding of what is. It is odd how we crave for permanency, for continuity. This desire takes many forms, from the crudest to the most subtle. With the obvious forms we are well acquainted: name, shape, character, and so on. But the subtler craving is much more difficult to uncover and understand. Identity as idea, as being, as knowledge, as becoming, at whatever level, is difficult to perceive and bring to light. We only know continuity, and never non-continuity. We know the continuity of experience, of memory, of incidents, but we do not know that state in which this continuity is not. We call it death, the unknown, the mysterious, and so on, and through naming it we hope somehow to capture it - which again is the desire for continuity. Self-consciousness is experience, the naming of experience, and so the recording of it; and this process is going on at various depths of the mind. We cling to this process of self-consciousness in spite of its passing joys, its unending conflict, confusion and misery. This is what we know; this is our existence, the continuity of our very being, the idea, the memory, the word. The idea continues, all or part of it, the idea that makes up the "me; but does this continuity bring about freedom, in which alone there is discovery and renewal? What has continuity can never be other than that which it is, with certain modifications; but these modifications do not give it a newness. It may take on a different cloak, a different colour; but it is still the idea, the memory, the word. This centre of continuity is not a spiritual essence, for it is still within the field of thought, of memory, and so of time. It can experience only its own projection, and through its self-projected experience it gives itself further continuity. Thus, as long as it exists, it can never experience beyond itself. It must die; it must cease to give itself continuity through idea, through memory, through word. Continuity is decay, and there is life only in death. There is renewal only with the cessation of the centre; then rebirth is not continuity; then death is as life, a renewal from moment to moment. This renewal is creation. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 39 'SELF-DEFENCE' HE WAS A well-known man, and was in a position to harm others, which he did not hesitate to do. He was cunningly shallow, devoid of generosity, and worked to his own advantage. He said he was not too keen to talk things over, but circumstances had forced him to come, and here he was. From everything he said and did not say, it was fairly clear that he was very ambitious and shaped the people about him; he was ruthless when it paid, and gentle when he wanted something. He had consideration for those above him, treated his equals with condescending tolerance, and of those below him he was utterly unaware. He never so much as glanced at the chauffeur who brought him. His money made him suspicious, and he had few friends, He talked of his children as though they were toys to amuse him, and he could not bear to be alone, he said. Someone had hurt him, and he could not retaliate because that person was beyond his reach; so he was taking it out of those he could reach. He was unable to understand why he was being unnecessarily brutal, why he wanted to hurt those whom he said he loved. As he talked, he slowly began to thaw and became almost friendly. It was the friendliness of the moment whose warmth would be shut off instantly if it were thwarted or if anything were asked of it. As nothing was being asked of him, he was free and temporarily affectionate. The desire to do harm, to hurt another, whether by a word, by a gesture, or more deeply, is strong in most of us; it is common and frighteningly pleasant. The very desire not to be hurt makes for the hurting of others; to harm others is a way of defending oneself. This self-defence takes peculiar forms, depending on circumstances and tendencies. How easy it is to hurt another, and what gentleness is needed not to hurt! We hurt others because we ourselves are hurt, we are so bruised by our own conflicts and sorrows. The more we are inwardly tortured, the greater the urge to be outwardly violent. Inward turmoil drives us to seek outward protection; and the more one defends oneself, the greater the attack on others. What is it that we defend, that we so carefully guard? Surely, it is the idea of ourselves, at whatever level. If we did not guard the idea, the centre of accumulation, there would be no "me" and "mine." We would then be utterly sensitive, vulnerable to the ways of our own being, the conscious as well as the hidden; but as most of us do not desire to discover the process of the "me", we resist any encroachment upon the idea of ourselves. The idea of ourselves is wholly superficial; but as most of us live on the surface, we are content with illusions. The desire to do harm to another is a deep instinct. We accumulate resentment, which gives a peculiar vitality, a feeling of action and life; and what is accumulated must be expended through anger, insult, depreciation, obstinacy, and through their opposites. It is this accumulation of resentment that necessitates forgiveness -which becomes unnecessary if there is no storing up of the hurt. Why do we store up flattery and insult, hurt and affection. Without this accumulation of experiences and their responses, we are not; we are nothing if we have no name, no attachment, no belief. It is the fear of being nothing that compels us to accumulate; and it is this very fear, whether conscious or unconscious, that, in spite of our accumulative activities, brings about our disintegration and destruction. If we can be aware of the truth of this fear, then it is the truth that liberates us from it, and not our purposeful determination to be free, You are nothing. You may have your name and title, your property and bank account, you may have power and be famous; but in spite of all these safeguards, you are as nothing. You may be totally unaware of this emptiness, this nothingness, or you may simply not want to be aware of it; but it is there, do what you will to avoid it. You may try to escape from it in devious ways, through personal or collective violence, through individual or collective worship, through knowledge or amusement; but whether you are asleep or awake, it is always there. You can come upon your relationship to this nothingness and its fear only by being choicelessly aware of the escapes. You are not related to it as a separate, individual entity; you are not the observer watching it; without you, the thinker, the observer, it is not. You and nothingness are one; you and nothingness are a joint phenomenon, not two separate processes. If you, the thinker, are afraid of it and approach it as something contrary and opposed to you, then any action you may take towards it must inevitably lead to illusion and so to further conflict and misery. When there is the discovery, the experiencing of that nothingness as you, then fear - which exists only when the thinker is separate from his thoughts and so tries to establish a relationship with them - completely drops away. Only then is it possible for the mind to be still; and in this tranquillity, truth comes into being. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 40"MY PATH AND YOUR PATH" HE WAS A scholar, spoke many languages, and was addicted to knowledge as another is to drink. He was everlastingly quoting the sayings of others to bolster up his own opinions. He dabbled in science and art, and when he gave his opinion it was with a shake of the head and a smile that conveyed in a subtle way that it was not merely his opinion, but the final truth. He said he had his own experiences which were authoritative and conclusive to him. "You have your experiences too, but you cannot convince me," he said. "You go your way, and I mine. There are different paths to truth, and we shall all meet there some day." He was friendly in a distant way, but firm. To him, the Masters, though not actual, visible gurus, were a reality, and to become their disciple was essential. He, with several others, conferred discipleship on those who were willing to accept this path and their authority; but he and his group did not belong to those who, through spiritualism, found guides among the dead. To find the Master you had to serve, work, sacrifice, obey and practise certain virtues; and of course belief was necessary. To rely on experience as a means to the discovery of what is, is to be caught in illusion. Desire, craving, conditions experience; and to depend on experience as a means to the understanding of truth is to pursue the way of self-aggrandizement. Experience can never bring freedom from sorrow; experience is not an adequate response to the challenge of life. The challenge must be met newly, freshly, for the challenge is always new. To meet the challenge adequately, the conditioning memory of experience must be set aside, the responses of pleasure and pain must be deeply understood. Experience is an impediment to truth, for experience is of time, it is the outcome of the past; and how can a mind which is the result of experience, of time, understand the timeless? The truth of experience does not depend on personal idiosyncrasies and fancies; the truth of it is perceived only when there is awareness without condemnation, justification, or any form of identification. Experience is not an approach to truth; there is no "your experience" or "my experience," but only the intelligent understanding of the problem. Without self-knowledge, experience breeds illusion; with self-knowledge, experience, which is the response to challenge, does not leave a cumulative residue as memory. Self-knowledge is the discovery from moment to moment of the ways of the self, its intentions and pursuit, its thoughts and appetites. There can never be "your experience" and "my experience; the very term "my experience" indicates ignorance and the acceptance of illusion. But many of us like to live in illusion, because there is great satisfaction in it; it is a private heaven which stimulates us and gives a feeling of superiority. If I have capacity, gift or cunning, I become a leader, an intermediary, a representative of that illusion; and as most people love the avoidance of what is there is built up an organization with properties and rituals, with vows and secret gatherings. Illusion is clothed according to tradition, keeping it within the field of respectability; and as most of us seek power in one form or another, the hierarchical principle is established, the novice and the initiate, the pupil and the Master, and even among the Masters there are degrees of spiritual growth. Most of us love to exploit and be exploited, and this system offers the means, whether hidden or open. To exploit is to be exploited. The desire to use others for your psychological necessities makes for dependence, and when you depend you must hold, possess; and what you possess, possesses you. Without dependence, subtle or gross, without possessing things, people and ideas, you are empty, a thing of no importance. You want to be something, and to avoid the gnawing fear of being nothing you belong to this or that organization, to this or that ideology, to this church or that temple; so you are exploited, and you in your turn exploit. This hierarchical structure offers an excellent opportunity for self-expansion. You may want brotherhood, but how can there be brotherhood if you are pursuing spiritual distinctions? You may smile at worldly titles; but when you admit the Master, the saviour, the guru in the realm of the spirit, are you not carrying over the worldly attitude? Can there be hierarchical divisions or degrees in spiritual growth, in the understanding of truth, in the realization of God? Love admits no division. Either you love, or do not love; but do not make the lack of love into a long-drawn-out process whose end is love. When you know you do not love, when you are choicelessly aware of that fact, then there is a possibility of transformation; but to sedulously cultivate this distinction between the Master and the pupil, between those who have attained and those who have not, between the saviour and the sinner, is to deny love. The exploiter, who is in turn exploited, finds a happy hunting-ground in this darkness and illusion. Separation between God or reality and yourself is brought about by you, by the mind that clings to the known, to certainty, to security. This separation cannot be bridged over; there is no ritual, no discipline, no sacrifice that can carry you across it; there is no saviour, no Master, no guru who can lead you to the real or destroy this separation. The division is not between the real and yourself; it is in yourself, it is the conflict of opposing desires. Desire creates its own opposite; and transformation is not a matter of being centred in one desire, but of being free from the conflict which craving brings. Craving at any level of one's being breeds further conflict, and from this we try to escape in every possible manner, which only increases the conflict both within and without. This conflict cannot be dissolved by someone else, however great, nor through any magic or ritual. These may put you pleasantly to sleep, but on waking the problem is still there. But most of us do not want to wake up, and so we live in illusion. With the dissolution of conflict, there is tranquillity, and then only can reality come into being. Masters, saviours and gurus are unimportant, but what is essential is to understand the increasing conflict of desire; and this understanding comes only through self-knowledge and constant awareness of the movements of the self. Self-awareness is arduous, and since most of us prefer an easy, illusory way, we bring into being the authority that gives shape and pattern to our life. This authority may be the collective, the State; or it may be the personal, the Master, the saviour, the guru. Authority of any kind is blinding, it breeds thoughtlessness; and as most of us find that to be thoughtful is to have pain, we give ourselves over to authority. Authority engenders power, and power always becomes centralized and therefore utterly corrupting; it corrupts not only the wielder of power, but also him who follows it. The authority of knowledge and experience is perverting, whether it be vested in the Master, his representative or the priest. It is your own life, this seemingly endless conflict, that is significant, and not the pattern or the leader. The authority of the Master and the priest takes you away from the central issue, which is the conflict within yourself. Suffering can never be understood and dissolved through the search for a way of life. Such a search is mere avoidance of suffering, the imposition of a pattern, which is escape; and what is avoided only festers, bringing more calamity and pain. The understanding of yourself, however painful or passingly pleasurable, is the beginning of wisdom. There is no path to wisdom. If there is a path, then wisdom is the formulated, it is already imagined, known. Can wisdom be known or cultivated? Is it a thing to be learnt, to be accumulated? If it is, then it becomes mere knowledge, a thing of experience and of the books. Experience and knowledge are the continuous chain of responses and so can never comprehend the new, the fresh, the uncreated. Experience and knowledge, being continuous, make a path to their own self-projections, and hence they are constantly binding. Wisdom is the understanding of what is from moment to moment, without the accumulation of experience and knowledge. What is accumulated does not give freedom to understand, and without freedom there is no discovery; and it is this endless discovery that makes for wisdom. Wisdom is ever new, ever fresh, and there is no means of gathering it. The means destroys the freshness, the newness, the spontaneous discovery. The many paths to one reality are the invention of an intolerant mind; they are the outcome of a mind that cultivates tolerance. "I follow my path, and you follow yours, but let us be friends, and we shall eventually meet." Will you and I meet if you are going north and I south? Can we be friendly if you have one set of beliefs and I another, if I am a collective murderer and you arc peaceful? To be friendly implies relationship in work, in thought; but is there any relationship between the man who hates and the man who love? Is there any relationship between the man in illusion and the one who is free? The free man may try to establish some kind of relationship with the one in bondage; but he who is in illusion can have no relationship with the man who is free. The separate, clinging to their separateness, try to establish a relationship with others who are also self-enclosed; but such attempts invariably breed conflict and pain. To avoid this pain, the clever ones invent tolerance, each looking over his self-enclosing barrier and attempting to be kind and generous. Tolerance is of the mind, not of the heart. Do you talk of tolerance when you love? But when the heart is empty, then the mind fills it with its cunning devices and fears. There is no communion where there is tolerance. There is no path to truth. Truth must be discovered, but there is no formula for its discovery. What is formulated is not true. You must set out on the uncharted sea, and the uncharted sea is yourself. You must set out to discover yourself, but not according to any plan or pattern, for then there is no discovery. Discovery brings joy - not the remembered, comparative joy, but joy that is ever new. Self-knowledge is the beginning of wisdom in whose tranquillity and silence there is the immeasurable. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 41 'AWARENESS' THERE WHERE IMMENSE clouds, like billowy white waves, and the sky was serene and blue. Many hundreds of feet below where we stood was the blue curving bay, and far off was the mainland. It was a lovely evening, calm and free, and on the horizon was the smoke of a steamer. The orange groves stretched to the foot of the mountain, and their fragrance filled the air. The evening was turning blue, as it always did; the air itself became blue, and the white houses lost their brilliance in that delicate colour. The blue of the sea seemed to spill over and cover the land, and the mountains above were also a transparent blue. It was an enchanted scene, and there was immense silence. Though there were a few noises of the evening, they were within this silence, they were part of the silence, as we were too. This silence was making everything new, washing away the centuries of squalor and pain from the heart of things; one's eyes were cleansed, and the mind was of that silence. A donkey brayed; the echoes filled the valley, and the silence accepted them. The end of the day was the death of all yesterdays, and in this death there was a rebirth, without the sadness of the past. Life was new in the immensity of silence. In the room a man was waiting, anxious to talk things over. He was peculiarly intense, but sat quietly. He was obviously a city-dweller, and his smart clothes made him seem rather out of place in that small village and in that room. He talked of his activities, the difficulties of his profession, the trivialities of family life, and the urgency of his desires. All these problems he could grapple with as intelligently as another; but what really bothered him were his sexual appetites. He was married and had children, but there was more to it. His sexual activities had become a very serious problem to him and were driving him almost crazy. He had talked to certain doctors and analysts, but the problem still existed and he must somehow get to the bottom of it. How eager we are to solve our problems! How insistently we search for an answer, a way out, a remedy! We never consider the problem itself, but with agitation and anxiety grope for an answer which is invariably self-projected. Though the problem is self-created, we try to find an answer away from it. To look for an answer is to avoid the problem - which is just what most of us want to do. Then the answer becomes all-significant, and not the problem. The solution is not separate from the problem; the answer is in the problem, not away from it. If the answer is separate from the main issue, then we create other problems: the problem of how to realize the answer, how to carry it out, how to put it into practice, and so on. As the search for an answer is the avoidance of the problem, we get lost in ideals, convictions, experiences, which are self-projections; we worship these homemade idols and so get more and more confused and weary. To come to a conclusion is comparatively easy; but to understand a problem is arduous, it demands quite a different approach, an approach in which there is no lurking desire for an answer. Freedom from the desire for an answer is essential to the understanding of a problem. This freedom gives the ease of full attention; the mind is not distracted by any secondary issues. As long as there is conflict with or opposition to the problem, there can be no understanding of it; for this conflict is a distraction. There is understanding only when there is communion, and communion is impossible as long as there is resistance or contention, fear or acceptance. One must establish right relationship with the problem, which is the beginning of understanding; but how can there be right relationship with a problem when you are only concerned with getting rid of it, which is to find a solution for it? Right relationship means communion, and communion cannot exist if there is positive or negative resistance. The approach to the problem is more important than the problem itself; the approach shapes the problem, the end. The means and the end are not different from the approach. The approach decides the fate of the problem. How you regard the problem is of the greatest importance, because your attitude and prejudices, your fears and hopes will colour it. Choiceless awareness of the manner of your approach will bring right relationship with the problem. The problem is self-created, so there must be self-knowledge. You and the problem are one, not two separate processes. You are the problem. The activities of the self are frighteningly monotonous. The self is a bore; it is intrinsically enervating, pointless, futile. Its opposing and conflicting desires, its hopes and frustrations, its realities and illusions are enthralling, and yet empty; its activities lead to its own weariness. The self is ever climbing and ever falling down, ever pursuing and ever being frustrated, ever gaining and ever losing; and from this weary round of futility it is ever trying to escape. It escapes through outward activity or through gratifying illusions, through drink, sex, radio, books, knowledge, amusements, and go on. Its power to breed illusion is complex and vast. These illusions are homemade, self-projected; they are the ideal, the idolatrous conception of Masters and saviours, the future as a means of self-aggrandizement, and so on. In trying to escape from its own monotony, the self pursues inward and outward sensations and excitements. These are the substitutes for self-abnegation, and in the substitutes it hopefully tries to get lost. It often succeeds, but the success only increases its own weariness. It pursues one substitute after another, each creating its own problem, its own conflict and pain. Self-forgetfulness is sought within and without; some turn to religion, and others to work and activity. But there is no means of forgetting the self. The inner or outward noise can suppress the self, but it soon comes up again in a different form, under a different guise; for what is suppressed must find a release. Self-forgetfulness through drink or sex, through worship or knowledge, makes for dependence, and that on which you depend creates a problem. If you depend for release, for self-forgetfulness, for happiness, on drink or on a Master, then they become your problem. Dependence breeds possessiveness, envy, fear; and then fear and the overcoming of it become your anxious problem. In the search for happiness we create problems, and in them we get caught. We find a certain happiness in the self-forgetfulness of sex, and so we use it as a means to achieve what we desire. Happiness through something must invariably beget conflict, for then the means is vastly more significant and important than happiness itself. If I get happiness through the beauty of that chair, then the chair becomes all-important to me and I must guard it against others. In this struggle, the happiness which I once felt in the beauty of the chair is utterly forgotten, lost, and I am left with the chair. In itself, the chair has little value; but I have given it an extraordinary value, for it is the means of my happiness. So the means becomes a substitute for happiness. When the means of my happiness is a living person, then the conflict and confusion, the antagonism and pain are far greater. If relationship is based on mere usage, is there any relationship, except the most superficial, between the user and the used? If I use you for my happiness, am I really related to you? Relationship implies communion with another on different levels; and is there communion with another when he is only a tool, a means of my happiness? In thus using another, am I not really seeking self-isolation, in which I think I shall be happy? This self-isolation I call relationship; but actually there is no communion in this process. Communion can exist only where there is no fear; and there is gnawing fear and pain where there is usage and so dependence. As nothing can live in isolation, the attempts of the mind to isolate itself lead to its own frustration and misery. To escape from this sense of incompleteness, we seek completeness in ideals, in people, in things; and so we are back again where we started, in the search for substitutes. Problems will always exist where the activities of the self are dominant. To be aware which are and which are not the activities of the self needs constant vigilance. This vigilance is not disciplined attention, but an extensive awareness which is choiceless. Disciplined attention gives strength to the self; it becomes a substitute and a dependence. Awareness, on the other hand, is not self-induced, nor is it the outcome of practice; it is understanding the whole content of the problem, the hidden as well as the superficial. The surface must be understood for the hidden to show itself; the hidden cannot be exposed if the surface mind is not quiet. This whole process is not verbal, nor is it a matter of mere experience. Verbalization indicates dullness of mind; and experience, being cumulative, makes for repetitiousness. Awareness is not a matter of determination, for purposive direction is resistance, which tends towards exclusiveness. Awareness is the silent and choiceless observation of what is; in this awareness the problem unrolls itself, and thus it is fully and completely understood. A problem is never solved on its own level; being complex, it must be understood in its total process. To try to solve a problem on only one level, physical or psychological, leads to further conflict and confusion. For the resolution of a problem, there must be this awareness, this passive alertness which reveals its total process. Love is not sensation. Sensations give birth to thought through words and symbols. Sensations and thought replace love; they become the substitute for love. Sensations are of the mind, as sexual appetites are. The mind breeds the appetite, the passion, through remembrance, from which it derives gratifying sensations. The mind is composed of different and conflicting interests or desires, with their exclusive sensations; and they clash when one or other begins to predominate, thus creating a problem. Sensations are both pleasant and unpleasant, and the mind holds to the pleasant, thus becoming a slave to them. This bondage becomes a problem because the mind is the repository of contradictory sensations. The avoidance of the painful is also a bondage, with its own illusions and problems. The mind is the maker of problems, and so cannot resolve them. Love is not of the mind; but when the mind takes over there is sensation, which it then calls love. It is this love of the mind that can be thought about, that can be clothed and identified. The mind can recall or anticipate pleasurable sensations, and this process is appetite, no matter at what level it is placed. Within the field of the mind, love cannot be. Mind is the area of fear and calculation, envy and domination, comparison and denial, and so love is not. Jealousy, like pride, is of the mind; but it is not love. Love and the processes of the mind cannot be bridged over, cannot be made one. When sensations predominate, there is no space for love; so the things of the mind fill the heart. Thus love becomes the unknown, to be pursued and worshipped; it is made into an ideal, to be used and believed in, and ideals are always self-projected. So the mind takes over completely, and love becomes a word, a sensation. Then love is made comparative, "I love more and you love less." But love is neither personal nor impersonal; love is a state of being in which sensation as thought is wholly absent. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 42 'LONELINESS' HER SON HAD recently died, and she said she did not know what to do now. She had so much time on her hands, she was so bored and weary and sorrowful that she was ready to die. She had brought him up with loving care and intelligence, and he had gone to one of the best schools and to college. She had not spoiled him, though he had had everything that was necessary. She had put her faith and hope in him, and had given him all her love; for there was no one else to share it with, she and her husband having separated long ago. Her son had died through some wrong diagnosis and operation - though, she added smilingly, the doctors said that the operation was "successful." Now she was left alone, and life seemed so vain and pointless. She had wept when he died, until there were no more tears, but only a dull and weary emptiness. She had had such plans for both of them, but now she was utterly lost. The breeze was blowing from the sea, cool and fresh, and under the tree it was quiet. The colours on the mountains were vivid, and the blue jays were very talkative. A cow wandered by, followed by her calf, and a squirrel dashed up a tree, wildly chattering. It sat on a branch and began to scold, and the scolding went on for a long time, its tail bobbing up and down. It had such sparkling bright eyes and sharp claws. A lizard came out to warm itself, and caught a fly. The tree tops were gently swaying, and a dead tree against the sky was straight and splendid. It was being bleached by the sun. There was another dead tree beside it, dark and curving, more recent in its decay. A few clouds rested on the distant mountains. What a strange thing is loneliness, and how frightening it is! We never allow ourselves to get too close to it; and if by chance we do, we quickly run away from it. We will do anything to escape from loneliness, to cover it up. Our conscious and unconscious preoccupation seems to be to avoid it or to overcome it. Avoiding and overcoming loneliness are equally futile; though suppressed or neglected, the pain, the problem, is still there. You may lose yourself in a crowd, and yet be utterly lonely; you may be intensely active, but loneliness silently creeps upon you; put the book down, and it is there. Amusements and drinks cannot drown loneliness; you may temporarily evade it, but when the laughter and the effects of alcohol are over, the fear of loneliness returns. You may be ambitious and successful, you may have vast power over others, you may be rich in knowledge, you may worship and forget yourself in the rigmarole of rituals; but do what you will, the ache of loneliness continues. You may exist only for your son, for the Master, for the expression of your talent; but like the darkness, loneliness covers you. You may love or hate, escape from it according to your temperament and psychological demands; but loneliness is there, waiting and watching, withdrawing only to approach again. Loneliness is the awareness of complete isolation; and are not our activities self-enclosing? Though our thoughts and emotions are expansive, are they not exclusive and dividing? Are we not seeking dominance in our relationships, in our rights and possessions, thereby creating resistance? Do we not regard work as "yours" and "mine"? Are we not identified with the collective, with the country, or with the few? Is not our whole tendency to isolate ourselves, to divide and separate? The very activity of the self, at whatever level, is the way of isolation; and loneliness is the consciousness of the self without activity. Activity, whether physical or psychological, becomes a means of self-expansion; and when there is no activity of any kind, there is an awareness of the emptiness of the self. It is this emptiness that we seek to fill, and in filling it we spend our life, whether at a noble or ignoble level. There may seem to be no sociological harm in filling this emptiness at a noble level; but illusion breeds untold misery and destruction, which may not be immediate. The craving to fill this emptiness - to run away from it, which is the same thing - cannot be sublimated or suppressed; for who is the entity that is to suppress or sublimate? Is not that very entity another form of craving? The objects of craving may vary, but is not all craving similar? You may change the object of your craving from drink to ideation; but without understanding the process of craving, illusion is inevitable. There is no entity separate from craving; there is only craving, there is no one who craves. Craving takes on different masks at different times, depending on its interests. The memory of these varying interests meets the new, which brings about conflict, and so the chooser is born, establishing himself as an entity separate and distinct from craving. But the entity is not different from its qualities. The entity who tries to fill or run away from emptiness, incompleteness, loneliness, is not different from that which he is avoiding; he is it. He cannot run away from himself; all that he can do is to understand himself. He is his loneliness, his emptiness; and as long as he regards it as something separate from himself, he will be in illusion and endless conflict. When he directly experiences that he is his own loneliness, then only can there be freedom from fear. Fear exists only in relationship to an idea, and idea is the response of memory as thought. Thought is the result of experience; and though it can ponder over emptiness, have sensations with regard to it, it cannot know emptiness directly. The word "loneliness," with its memories of pain and fear, prevents the experiencing of it afresh. The word is memory, and when the word is no longer significant, then the relationship between the experiencer and the experienced is wholly different; then that relationship is direct and not through a word, through memory; then the experiencer is the experience, which alone brings freedom from fear. Love and emptiness cannot abide together; when there is the feeling of loneliness, love is not. You may hide emptiness under the word "love," but when the object of your love is no longer there or does not respond, then you are aware of emptiness, you are frustrated. We use the word "love" as a means of escaping from ourselves, from our own insufficiency. We cling to the one we love, we are jealous, we miss him when he is not there and are utterly lost when he dies; and then we seek comfort in some other form, in some belief, in some substitute. Is all this love? Love is not an idea, the result of association; love is not something to be used as an escape from our own wretchedness and when we do so use it, we make problems which have no solutions. Love is not an abstraction, but its reality can be experienced only when idea, mind, is no longer the supreme factor. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 43 'CONSISTENCY' HE WAS OBVIOUSLY intelligent, active, and given to reading a few select books. Though married, he was not a family man. He called himself an idealist and a social worker; he had been to prison for political reasons, and had many friends. He was not concerned with making a name either for himself or for the party, which he recognised as the same thing. He was really interested in doing social work which might lead to some human happiness. He was what you might call a religious man, but not sentimental or superstitious, nor a believer in any particular doctrine or ritual. He said he had come to talk over the problem of contradiction, not only within himself but in Nature and in the world. It seemed to him that this contradiction was inevitable: the intelligent and the stupid, the conflicting desires within oneself, the word in conflict with the act and the act with the thought. This contradiction he had found everywhere. To be consistent is to be thoughtless. It is easier and safer to follow a pattern of conduct without deviation, to conform to an ideology or a tradition, than to risk the pain of thought. To obey authority, inner or outer, needs no questioning; it obviates thought, with its anxieties and disturbances. To follow our own conclusions, experiences, determinations, creates no contradictions within us; we are being consistent to our own purpose; we choose a particular path and follow it, unyielding and determined. Do not most of us seek a way of life which is not too disturbing, in which at least there is psychological security? And how we respect a man who lives up to his ideal! We make examples of such men, they are to be followed and worshipped, The approximation to an ideal, though it requires a certain amount of exertion and struggle, is on the whole pleasurable and gratifying; for after all, ideals are homemade, self-protected. You choose your hero, religious or worldly, and follow him. The desire to be consistent gives a peculiar strength and satisfaction, for in sincerity there is security. But sincerity is not simplicity, and without simplicity there can be no understanding. To be consistent to a well-thought-out pattern of conduct gratifies the urge for achievement, and in its success there is comfort and security. The setting up of an ideal and the constant approximation to it cultivates resistance, and adaptability is within the limits of the pattern. Consistency offers safety and certainty, and that is why we cling to it with desperation. To be in self-contradiction is to live in conflict and sorrow. The self, in its very structure, is contradictory; it is made up of many entities with different masks, each in opposition to the other. The whole fabric of the self is the result of contradictory interests and values, of many varying desires at different levels of its being; and these desires all beget their own opposites. The self, the "me," is a network of complex desires, each desire having its own impetus and aim, often in opposition to other hopes and pursuits. These masks are taken on according to stimulating circumstances and sensations; so within the structure of the self, contradiction is inevitable. This contradiction within us breeds illusion and pain, and to escape from it we resort to all manner of self-deceptions which only increase our conflict and misery. When the inner contradiction becomes unbearable, consciously or unconsciously we try to escape through death, through insanity; or we give ourselves over to an idea, to a group, to a country, to some activity that will completely absorb our being; or we turn to organized religion, with its dogmas and rituals. So this split in ourselves leads either to further self-expansion or to self-destruction, insanity. Trying to be other than what we are cultivates contradiction; the fear of what is breeds the illusion of its opposite, and in the pursuit of the opposite we hope to escape from fear. Synthesis is not the cultivation of the opposite; synthesis does not come about through opposition, for all opposites contain the elements of their own opposites. The contradiction in ourselves leads to every kind of physical and psychological response whether gentle or violent, respectable or dangerous; and consistency only further confuses and obscures the contradiction. The one-pointed pursuit of a single desire, of a particular interest, leads to sell-enclosing opposition. Contradiction within brings conflict without and conflict indicates contradiction. Only through understanding the ways of desire is there freedom from sell-contradiction. Integration can never be limited to the upper layers of the mind; it is not something to be learnt in a school; it does not come into being with knowledge or with self-immolation. Integration alone brings freedom from consistency and contradiction; but integration is not a matter of fusing into one all desires and multiple interests. Integration is not conformity to a pattern, however noble and cunning; it must be approached, not directly, positively, but obliquely, negatively. To have a conception of integration is to conform to a pattern, which only cultivates stupidity and destruction. To pursue integration is to make of it an ideal, a self- projected goal. Since all ideals are self-projected, they inevitably cause conflict and enmity. What the self projects must be of its own nature, and therefore contradictory and confusing. Integration is not an idea, a mere response of memory, and so it cannot be cultivated. The desire for integration comes into being because of conflict; but through cultivating integration, conflict is not transcended. You may cover up, deny contradiction, or be unconscious of it; but it is there, waiting to break out. Conflict is our concern and not integration. Integration, like peace, is a by-product not an end in itself; it is merely a result, and so of secondary importance. In understanding conflict there will not only be integration and peace, but something infinitely greater. Conflict cannot be suppressed or sublimated, nor is there a substitute for it. Conflict comes with craving, with the desire to continue, to become more - which does not mean that there must be stagnating contentment. "More" is the constant cry of the self; it is the craving for sensation, whether of the past or of the future. Sensation is of the mind, and so the mind is not the instrument for the understanding of conflict. Understanding is not verbal, it is not a mental process, and therefore not a matter of experience. Experience is memory, and without word, symbol, image, there is no memory. You may read volumes about conflicts but it can have nothing to do with the understanding of conflict. To understand conflict, thought must not interfere; there must be an awareness of conflict without the thinker. The thinker is the chooser who invariably takes sides with the pleasant, the gratifying, and thereby sustains conflict; he may get rid of one particular conflict but the soil is there for further conflict. The thinker justifies or condemns, and so prevents understanding. With the thinker absent, there is the direct experiencing of conflict, but not as an experience which an experiencer is undergoing. In the state of experiencing there is neither the experiencer nor the experienced. Experiencing is direct; then relationship it direct, and not through memory. It is this direct relationship that brings understanding. Understanding brings freedom from conflict; and with freedom from conflict there is integration. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 44 'ACTION AND IDEA' HE WAS MILD and gentle, with a ready and pleasant smile. He was dressed very simply, and his manner was quiet and unobtrusive. He said that he had practised non-violence for many years and was well aware of its power and spiritual significance. He had written several books concerning it and had brought one of them along. He explained that he had not voluntarily killed anything for many years, and was a strict vegetarian. He went into the details of his vegetarianism, and said that his shoes and sandals were made from the hides of animals that had died naturally. He had made his life as simple as possible, had studied dietetics and ate only what was essential. He asserted that he had not been angry for several years now, though he was on occasions impatient, which was merely the response of his nerves. His speech was controlled and gentle. The power of non-violence would transform the world, he said, and he had dedicated his life to it. He was not the kind of man who talked about himself easily, but on the subject of non-violence he was quite eloquent and words seemed to flow without effort. He had come, he added, to go more deeply into his favourite subject. Across the way, the large pool was tranquil. Its waters had been very agitated, as there had been a strong breeze; but now it was quite still and was reflecting the large leaves of a tree. One or two lilies floated quietly on its surface, and a bud was just showing itself above the water. Birds began to come, and several frogs came out and jumped into the pool. The ripples soon died away, and once more the waters were still. On the very top of a tall tree sat a bird, preening itself and singing; it would fly in a curve and come back to its high and solitary perch; it was so delighted with the world and with itself. Nearby sat a fat man with a book, but his mind was far away; he would try to read, but his mind raced off again and again. Ultimately he gave up the struggle and let the mind have its way. A lorry was coming up the hill slowly and wearily, and again the gears had to be changed. We are so concerned with the reconciliation of effects, with the outward gesture and appearance. We seek first to bring about outward order; outwardly we regulate our life according to our resolutions, the inner principles that we have established. Why do we force the outer to conform to the inner? Why do we act according to an idea? Is idea stronger, more powerful than action ? The idea is first established, reasoned out or intuitively felt, and then we try to approximate action to the idea; we try to live up to it, put it into practice, discipline ourselves in the light of it - the everlasting struggle to bring action within the limits of idea. Why is there this incessant and painful struggle to shape action according to idea? What is the urge to make the outer conform to the inner? Is it to strengthen the inner, or to gain assurance from the outer when the inner is uncertain? In deriving comfort from the outer, does not the outer assume greater significance and importance ? The outer reality has significance; but when it is looked upon as a gesture of sincerity, does it not indicate more than ever that idea is dominant? Why has idea become all-powerful? To make us act? Does idea help us to act, or does it hinder action? Surely, idea limits action; it is the fear of action that brings forth idea. In idea there is safety, in action there is danger. To control action, which is limitless, idea is cultivated; to put a brake on action, idea comes into being. Think what would happen if you were really generous in action ! So you have the generosity of the heart opposed by the generosity of the mind; you go so far only, for you do not know what will happen to you tomorrow. Idea governs action. Action is full, open, extensive; and fear, as idea, steps in and takes charge. So idea becomes all-important, and not action. We try to make action conform to idea. The idea or ideal if nonviolence, and our actions, gestures, thoughts are moulded according to that pattern of the mind; what we eat, what we wear, what we say, becomes very significant, for by it we judge our sincerity. Sincerity becomes important, and not being non-violent; your sandals and what you eat become consumingly interesting, and being non-violent is forgotten. Idea is always secondary, and the secondary issues dominate the primary. You can write, lecture, gossip about idea; there is great scope in idea for self-expansion, but there is no self-expansive gratification in being non-violent. Idea, being self-projected, is stimulating and gratifying, positively or negatively; but being non-violent has no glamour. Non-violence is a result, a by-product, and not an end in itself. It is an end in itself only when idea predominates. Idea is always a conclusion, an end, a self-projected goal. Idea is movement within the known; but thought cannot formulate what it is to be non-violent. Thought can ponder over non-violence, but it cannot be non-violent. Nonviolence is not an idea; it cannot be made into a pattern of action. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 45 'LIFE IN A CITY' IT WAS A well-proportioned room, quiet and restful. The furniture was elegant and in very good taste; the carpet was thick and soft. There was a marble fireplace, with a fire in it. There were old vases from different parts of the world, and on the walls were modern paintings as well as some by the old masters. Considerable thought and care had been spent on the beauty and comfort of the room, which reflected wealth and taste. The room overlooked a small garden, with a lawn that must have been mowed and rolled for many, many years. Life in a city is strangely cut off from the universe; man-made buildings have taken the place of valleys and mountains, and the roar of traffic has been substituted for that of boisterous streams. At night one hardly ever sees the stars, even if one wishes to, for the city lights are too bright; and during the day the sky is limited and held. Something definitely happens to the city-dwellers; they are brittle and polished, they have churches and museums, drinks and theatres, beautiful clothes and endless shops. There are people everywhere, on the streets, in the buildings, in the rooms. A cloud passes across the sky, and so few look up. There is rush and turmoil. But in this room there was quiet and sustained dignity. It had that atmosphere peculiar to the rich, the feeling of aloof security and assurance, and the long freedom from want. He was saying that he was interested in philosophy, both of the East and of the West, and how absurd it was to begin with the Greeks, as though nothing existed before them; and presently he began to talk of his problem: how to give, and to whom to give. The problem of having money, with its many responsibilities, was somewhat disturbing him. Why was he making a problem of it? Did it matter to whom he gave, and with what spirit? Why had it become a problem? His wife came in, smart, bright and curious. Both of them seemed well read, sophisticated and worldly wise; they were clever and interested in many things. They were the product of both town and country, but mostly their hearts were in the town. That one thing, compassion, seemed so far away. The qualities of the mind were deeply cultivated; there was a sharpness, a brutal approach, but it did not go very far. She wrote a little, and he was some kind of politician; and how easily and confidently they spoke. Hesitancy is so essential to discovery, to further understanding; but how can there be hesitancy when you know so much, when the self-protective armour is so highly polished and all the cracks are sealed from within? Line and form become extraordinarily important to those who are in bondage to the sensate; then beauty is sensation, goodness a feeling, and truth a matter of intellection. When sensations dominate, comfort becomes essential, not only to the body, but also to the psyche; and comfort, especially that of the mind, is corroding, leading to illusion. We are the things we possess, we are that to which we are attached. Attachment has no nobility. Attachment to knowledge is not different from any other gratifying addiction. Attachment is self-absorption, whether at the lowest or at the highest level. Attachment is self-deception, it is an escape from the hollowness of the self. The things to which we are attached - property, people, ideas - become all-important, for without the many things which fill its emptiness, the self is not. The fear of not being makes for possession; and fear breeds illusion, the bondage to conclusions. Conclusions, material or ideational, prevent the fruition of intelligence, the freedom in which alone reality can come into being; and without this freedom, cunning is taken for intelligence. The ways of cunning are always complex and destructive. It is this self-protective cunning that makes for attachment; and when attachment causes pain, it is this same cunning that seeks detachment and finds pleasure in the pride and vanity of renunciation. The understanding of the ways of cunning, the ways of the self, is the beginning of intelligence. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 46 'OBSESSION' HE SAID HE was obsessed by stupid little things, and that these obsessions constantly changed. He would worry over some imaginary physical defect, and within a few hours his worry would have fixed itself upon another incident or thought. He seemed to live from one anxious obsession to another. To overcome these obsessions, he continued, he would consult books, or talk over his problem with a friend, and he had also been to a psychologist; but somehow he had found no relief. Even after a serious and absorbing meeting, these obsessions would immediately come on. If he found the cause, would it put an end to them? Does discovery of a cause bring freedom from the effect? Will knowledge of the cause destroy the result? We know the causes, both economic and psychological, of war, yet we encourage barbarity and self-destruction. After all, our motive in searching for the cause is the desire to be rid of the effect. This desire is another form of resistance or condemnation; and when there is condemnation, there is no understanding. "Then what is one to do?" he asked. Why is the mind dominated by these trivial and stupid obsessions? To ask "why" is not to search for the cause as something apart from yourself which you have to find; it is merely to uncover the ways of your own thinking. So, why is the mind occupied in this manner? Is it not because it is superficial, shallow, petty, and therefore concerned with its own attractions? `Yes," he replied, "that appears to be true; but not entirely, for I am a serious person." Apart from these obsessions, what is your thought occupied with? "With my profession," he said. "I have a responsible position. The whole day and sometimes far into the night, my thoughts are taken up with my business. I read occasionally, but most of my time is spent with my profession." Do you like what you are doing? "Yes, but it is not completely satisfactory. All my life I have been dissatisfied with what I am doing, but I cannot give up my present position for I have certain obligations - and besides, I am getting on in years. What bothers me are these obsessions, and my increasing resentment towards my work as well as towards people. I have not been kind; I feel increasing anxiety about the future, and I never seem to have any peace. I do my work well, but..." Why are you struggling against what is? The house in which I live may be noisy, dirty, the furniture may be hideous, and there may be an utter lack of beauty about the whole thing; but for various reasons I may have to live there, I cannot go away to another house. It is then not a question of acceptance, but of seeing the obvious fact. If I do not see what is, I shall worry myself sick about that vase, about that chair or that picture; they will become my obsessions, and there will be resentment against people, against my work, and so on. If I could leave the whole thing and start over again, it would be a different matter; but I cannot. It is no good my rebelling against what is, the actual. The recognition of what is does not lead to smug contentment and ease. When I yield to what is, there is not only the understanding of it, but there also comes a certain quietness to the surface mind. If the surface mind is not quiet, it indulges in obsessions, actual or imaginary; it gets caught up in some social reform or religious conclusion: the Master, the saviour, the ritual, and so on. It is only when the surface mind is quiet that the hidden can reveal itself. The hidden must be exposed; but this is not possible if the surface mind is burdened with obsessions, worries. Since the surface mind is constantly in some kind of agitation, conflict is inevitable between the upper and the deeper levels of the mind; and as long as this conflict is not resolved, obsessions increase. After all, obsessions are a means of escape from our conflict. All escapes are similar, though it is obvious that some are socially more harmful. When one is aware of the total process of obsession or of any other problem, only then is there freedom from the problem To be extensively aware, there must be no condemnation or justification of the problem; awareness must be choiceless. To be so aware demands wide patience and sensitivity; it requires eagerness and sustained attention so that the whole process of thinking can be observed and understood. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 47 'THE SPIRITUAL LEADER' HE SAID THAT his guru was too great a man to be described, and that he had been a pupil of his for many years. This teacher, he went on, imparted his teachings through brutal shocks, through foul language, through insults and actions that were contradictory; and he added that many important people were among the followers. The very crudeness of the procedure forced people to think, it made them sit up and take notice, which was considered necessary because most people were asleep and needed to be shaken. This teacher said the most awful things about God, and it seemed that his pupils had to drink a great deal, as the teacher himself drank heavily at most meals. The teachings, however, were profound; they had been kept secret at one time, but now they were being made available to all. The late autumnal sun was pouring in through the window, and one could hear the roar of the busy street. The leaves in their death were brilliant, and the air was fresh and keen. As with all cities, there was an atmosphere of depression and unnameable sorrow in contrast to the light of the evening; and the artificial gaiety was even more sorrowful. We seem to have forgotten what it is to be natural, to smile freely; our faces are so closed with worry and anxiety. But the leaves sparkled in the sun and a cloud passed by. Even in so-called spiritual movements the social divisions are maintained. How eagerly a titled person is welcomed and given the front seat! How the followers hang around the famous! How hungry we are for distinctions and labels! This craving for distinction becomes what we call spiritual growth: those who are near and those who are far, the hierarchical division as the Master and the initiate, the pupil and the novice. This craving is obvious and somewhat understandable in the everyday world; but when the same attitude is carried over into a world where these stupid distinctions have no meaning whatever, it reveals how deeply we are conditioned by our cravings and appetites. Without understanding these cravings, it is utterly vain to seek to be free from pride. "But," he continued, "we need guides, gurus, Masters. You may be beyond them, but we ordinary people need them, otherwise we shall be like lost sheep." We choose our leaders, political or spiritual, out of our own confusion, and so they also are confused. We demand to be coaxed and comforted, to be encouraged and gratified, so we choose a teacher who will give us what we crave for. We do not search out reality, but go after gratification and sensation. It is essentially for self-glorification that we create the teacher, the Master; and we feel lost, confused. and anxious when the self is denied. If you have no direct physical teacher, you fabricate one who is far away, hidden and mysterious; the former is dependent on various physical and emotional influences, and the latter is self-projected, a homemade ideal; but both are the outcome of your choice, and choice is inevitably based on bias, prejudice. You may prefer to give a more respectable and comforting name to your prejudice, but it is out of your confusion and appetites that you choose. If you are seeking gratification, you will naturally find what you desire, but do not let us call it truth. Truth comes into being when gratification, the desire for sensation, comes to an end. "You have not convinced me that I do not need a Master," he said. Truth is not a matter of argumentation and conviction; it is not the outcome of opinion. "But the Master helps me to overcome my greed, my envy," he insisted. Can another, however great, help to bring about a transformation in yourself he can, you are not transformed; you are merely dominated, influenced. This influence may last a considerable time, but you are not transformed. You have been overcome; and whether you are overcome by envy or by a so-called noble influence, you are still a slave, you are not free. We like to be slavish, to be possessed by someone, whether by a Master or by anyone else, because there is security in this possession; the Master becomes the refuge. To possess is to be possessed, but possession is not freedom from greed. "I must resist greed," he said. "I must fight it, make every effort to destroy it, and only then will it go." From what you say, you have been in conflict with greed for a great many years, and yet you are not free from it. Do not say that you have not tried hard enough, which is the obvious response. Can you understand anything through conflict? To conquer is not to understand. What you conquer has to be conquered again and again, but there is freedom from that which is fully understood. To understand, there must be awareness of the process of resistance. To resist is so much easier than to understand; and besides, we are educated to resist. In resistance there need be no observation, no consideration, no communication; resistance is an indication of the dullness of the mind. A mind that resists is self-enclosed and so is incapable of sensitivity, of understanding. To understand the ways of resistance is far more important than to get rid of greed. Actually, you are not listening to what is being said; you are considering your various commitments which have grown out of your years of struggle and resistance. You are now committed, and around your commitments, which you have probably lectured and written about, you have gathered friends; you have an investment in your Master, who has helped you to resist. So your past is preventing you from listening to what is being said. "I both agree and disagree with you," he remarked. Which shows that you are not listening. You are weighing your commitments against what is being said, which is not to listen. You are afraid to listen and so you are in conflict, agreeing and at the same time disagreeing. "You are probably right," he said, "but I cannot let go of all that I have gathered: my friends, my knowledge, my experience. I know that I must let go, but I simply cannot, and there it is." The conflict within him will now be greater than ever; for when once you are aware of what is, however reluctantly, and deny it because of your commitments, deep contradiction is set going. This contradiction is duality. There can be no bridging over of opposing desires; and if a bridge is created, it is resistance, which is consistency. Only in understanding what is is there freedom from what is. It is an odd fact that followers like to be bullied and directed, whether softly or harshly. They think the harsh treatment is part of their training - training in spiritual success. The desire to be hurt, to be rudely shaken, is part of the pleasure of hurting; and this mutual degradation of the leader and the follower is the outcome of the desire for sensation. It is because you want greater sensation that you follow and so create a leader, a guru; and for this new gratification you will sacrifice, put up with discomforts, insults and discouragements. All this is part of mutual exploitation, it has nothing whatever to do with reality and will never lead to happiness. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 48 'STIMULATION' "THE MOUNTAINS HAVE made me silent," she said. "I went to the Engadine and its beauty made me utterly silent; I was speechless at the wonder of it all. It was a tremendous experience. I wish I could hold that silence, that living, vibrant, moving silence. When you talk of silence, I suppose you mean this extraordinary experience I have had. I really would like to know if you are referring to the same quality of silence as I experienced. The effect of this silence lasted for a considerable period, and now I go back to it, I try to recapture and live in it." You are made silent by the Engadine, another by a beautiful human form, and another by a Master, by a book, or by drink. Through outward stimulation one is reduced to a sensation which one calls silence and which is extremely pleasurable. The effect of beauty and grandeur is to drive away one's daily problems and conflicts, which is a release. Through outward stimulation, the mind is made temporarily quiet; it is perhaps a new experience, a nev delight, and the mind goes back to it as a remembrance when it is no longer experiencing it. To remain in the mountains is probably not possible, as one has to be back for business; but it is possible to seek that state of quietness through some other form of stimulation, through drink, through a person, or through an idea, which is what most of us do. These various forms of stimulation are the means through which the mind is made still; so the means become significant, important, and we become attached to them. Because the means give us the pleasure of silence, they become dominant in our lives; they are our vested interest, a psychological necessity which we defend and for which, if necessary, we destroy each other. The means take the place of experience, which is now only a memory. Stimulations may vary, each having a significance according to the conditioning of the person. But there is a similarity in all stimulations: the desire to escape from what is, from our daily routine, from a relationship that is no longer alive, and from knowledge which is always becoming stale. You choose one kind of escape, I another, and my particular brand is always assumed to be more worth while than yours; but all escape, whether in the form of an ideal, the cinema, or the church, is harmful, leading to illusion and mischief. Psychological escapes are more harmful than the obvious ones, being more subtle and complex and therefore more difficult to discover. The silence that is brought about through stimulation, the silence that is made up through disciplines, control, resistances, positive or negative, is a result, an effect and so not creative; it is dead. There is a silence which is not a reaction, a result; a silence which is not the outcome of stimulation, of sensation; a silence which is not put together, not a conclusion. It comes into being when the process of thought is understood. Thought is the response of memory, of determined conclusions, conscious or unconscious; this memory dictates action according to pleasure and pain. So ideas control action, and hence there is conflict between action and idea. This conflict is always with us, and as it intensifies there is an urge to be free from it; but until this conflict is understood and resolved, any attempt to be free from it is an escape. As long as action is approximating to an idea, conflict is inevitable. Only when action is free from idea does conflict cease. "But how can action ever be free from idea? Surely there can be no action without there being ideation first. Action follows idea, and I cannot possibly imagine any action which is not the result of idea." Idea is the outcome of memory; idea is the verbalization of memory; idea is an inadequate reaction to challenge, to life. Adequate response to life is action, not ideation. We respond ideationally in order to safeguard ourselves against action. Ideas limit action. There is safety in the field of ideas, but not in action; so action is made subservient to idea. Idea is the self-protective pattern for action. In intense crisis there is direct action, freed from idea. It is against this spontaneous action that the mind has disciplined itself; and as with most of us the mind is dominant, ideas act as a brake on action and hence there is friction between action and ideation. "I find my mind wandering off to that happy experience of the Engadine. Is it an escape to relive that experience in memory?," Obviously. The actual is your life in the present: this crowded street, your business, your immediate relationships. If these were pleasing and gratifying, the Engadine would fade away; but as the actual is confusing and painful, you turn to an experience which is over and dead. You may remember that experience, but it is finished; you give it life only through memory. It is like pumping life into a dead thing. The present being dull, shallow, we turn to the past or look to a self-projected future.To escape from the present inevitably leads to illusion. To see the present as it actually is, without condemnation or justification, is to understand what is, and then there is action which brings about a transformation in what is. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 49 'PROBLEMS AND ESCAPES' "I HAVE MANY SERIOUS problems, and I seem to make them more tortuous and painful by trying to solve them. I am at my wit's end, and I do not know what to do. Added to all this, I am deaf and have to use this beastly thing as an aid to my hearing. I have several children and a husband who has left me. I am really concerned over my children, as I want them to avoid all the miseries I have been through." How anxious we are to find an answer to our problems! We are so eager to find an answer that we cannot study the problem; it prevents our silent observation of the problem. The problem is the important thing, and not the answer. If we look for an answer, we will find it; but the problem will persist, for the answer is irrelevant to the problem. Our search is for an escape from the problem, and the solution is a superficial remedy, so there is no understanding of the problem. All problems arise from one source, and without understanding the source, any attempt to solve the problems will only lead to further confusion and misery. One must first be very clear that one's intention to understand the problem is serious, that one sees the necessity of being free of all problems; for only then can the maker of problems be approached. Without freedom from problems, there can be no tranquillity; and tranquillity is essential for happiness, which is not an end in itself. As the pool is still when the breezes stop, so the mind is still with the cessation of problems. But the mind cannot be made still; if it is, it is dead, it is a stagnant pool. When this is clear, then the maker of problems can be observed. The observation must be silent and not according to any predetermined plan based on pleasure and pain. "But you are asking the impossible! Our education trains the mind to distinguish, to compare, to judge, to choose, and it is very difficult not to condemn or justify what is observed. How can one be free of this conditioning and observe silently?" If you see that silent observation, passive awareness is essential for understanding, then the truth of your perception liberates you from the background. It is only when you do not see the immediate necessity of passive and yet alert awareness that the "how," the search for a means to dissolve the background, aries. It is truth that liberates, not the means or the system. The truth that silent observation alone brings understanding, must be seen; then only are you free from condemnation and justification. When you see danger, you do not ask how you are to keep away from it. It is because you do not see the necessity of being passively aware that you ask "how." Why do you not see the necessity of it? "I want to, but I have never thought along these lines before. All I can say is that I want to get rid of my problems, because they are a real torture to me. I want to be happy, like any other person." Consciously or unconsciously we refuse to see the essentiality of being passively aware because we do not really want to let go of our problems; for what would we be without them? We would rather cling to something we know, however painful, than risk the pursuit of something that may lead who knows where. With the problems, at least, we are familiar; but the thought of pursuing the maker of them, not knowing where it may lead, creates in us fear and dullness. The mind would be lost without the worry of problems; it feeds on problems, whether they are world or kitchen problems, political or personal, religious or ideological; so our problems make us petty and narrow. A mind that is consumed with world problems is as petty as the mind that worries about the spiritual progress it is making. Problems burden the mind with fear, for problems give strength to the self, to the "me" and the "mine." Without problems, without achievements and failures, the self is not. "But without the self, how can one exist at all? It is the source of all action." As long as action is the outcome of desire, of memory, of fear, of pleasure and pain, it must inevitably breed conflict, confusion and antagonism. Our action is the outcome of our conditioning, at whatever level; and our response to challenge, being inadequate and incomplete, must produce conflict, which is the problem. Conflict is the very structure of the self. It is entirely possible to live without conflict, the conflict of greed, of fear, of success; but this possibility will be merely theoretical and not actual until it is discovered through direct experiencing. To exist without greed is possible only when the ways of the self are understood. "Do you think my deafness is due to my fears and repressions? Doctors have assured me that there is nothing structurally wrong, and is there any possibility of recovering my hearing? I have been suppressed, in one way or another, all my life; I have never done anything that I really wanted to do." Inwardly and outwardly it is easier to repress than to understand. To understand is arduous, especially for those who have been heavily conditioned from childhood. Although strenuous, repression becomes a matter of habit. Understanding can never be made into a habit, a matter of routine; it demands constant watchfulness, alertness. To understand, there must be pliability, sensitivity, a warmth that has nothing to do with sentimentality. Suppression in any form needs no quickening of awareness; it is the easiest and the stupidest way to deal with responses. Suppression is conformity to an idea, to a pattern, and it offers superficial security, respectability. Understanding is liberating, but suppression is always narrowing, self-enclosing. Fear of authority, of insecurity, of opinion, builds up an ideological refuge, with its physical counterpart, to which the mind turns. This refuge, at whatever level it may be placed, ever sustains fear; and from fear there is substitution, sublimation or discipline, which are all a form of repression. Repression must find an outlet, which may be a physical ailment or some kind of ideological illusion. The price is paid according to one's temperament and idiosyncrasies. "I have noticed that whenever there is something unpleasant to be heard, I take refuge behind this instrument, which thereby helps me to escape into my own world. But how is one to be free from the repression of years? Will it not take a long time?" It is not a question of time, of dredging into the past, or of careful analysis; it is a matter of seeing the truth of repression. By being passively aware, without any choice, of the whole process of repression, the truth of it is immediately seen. The truth of repression cannot be discovered if we think in terms of yesterday and tomorrow; truth is not to be comprehended through the passage of time. Truth is not a thing to be attained; it is seen or it is not seen, it cannot be perceived gradually. The will to be free from repression is a hindrance to understanding the truth of it; for will is desire, whether positive or negative, and with desire there can be no passive awareness. It is desire or craving that brought about the repression; and this same desire, though now called will, can never free itself from its own creation. Again, the truth of will must be perceived through passive yet alert awareness. The analyser, though he may separate himself from it, is part of the analysed; and as he is conditioned by the thing he analyses, he cannot free himself from it, again, the truth of this must be seen. It is truth that liberates, not will and effort. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 50 'WHAT IS AND WHAT SHOULD BE' "I AM MARRIED and have children," she said, `but I seem to have lost all love. I am slowly drying up. Although I engage in social activities, they are a kind of pastime, and I see their futility. Nothing seems to interest me deeply and fully. I recently took a long holiday from my family routine and social activities, and I tried to paint; but my spirit was not in it. I feel utterly dead, uncreative, depressed and deeply discontented. I am still young, but the future seems to be complete blackness. I have thought of suicide, but somehow I see the utter stupidity of it, I am getting more and more confused, and my discontent seems to have no end." What are you confused about? Is your problem that of relationship? "No, it is not. I have been through that, and have come out of it not too bruised; but I am confused and nothing seems to satisfy me." Have you a definite problem, or are you merely discontented generally? There must be deep down some anxiety, some fear, and probably you are not aware of it. Do you want to know what it is? "Yes, that is why I have come to you. I really cannot go on the way I am. Nothing seems to be of any importance, and I get quite ill periodically." Your illness may be an escape from yourself, from your circumstances. "I am pretty sure it is. But what am I to do? I am really quite desperate. Before I leave I must find a way out of all this." Is the conflict between two actualities, or between the actual and the fictitious? Is your discontent mere dissatisfaction, which is easily gratified, or is it a causeless misery? Dissatisfaction soon finds a particular channel through which it is gratified; dissatisfaction is quickly canalized, but discontent cannot be assuaged by thought. Does this so-called discontent arise from not finding satisfaction? If you found satisfaction, would your discontent disappear? Is it that you are really seeking some kind of permanent gratification ? "No, it is not that. I am really not seeking any kind of gratification - at least I do not think I am. All I know is that I am in confusion and conflict, and I cannot seem to find a way out of it." When you say you are in conflict, it must be in relation to something: in relation to your husband, to your children, to your activities. If, as you say, your conflict is not with any of these, then it can only be between what you are and what you want to be, between the actual and the ideal, between what is and the myth of what should be. You have an idea of what you should be, and perhaps the conflict and confusion arise from the desire to fit into this self-projected pattern. You are struggling to be something which you are not. Is that it? "I am beginning to see where I am confused. I think what you say is true." The conflict is between the actual and the myth, between that which you are and that which you would like to be. The pattern of the myth has been cultivated from childhood and has progressively widened and deepened, growing in contrast to the actual, and being constantly modified by circumstances. This myth, like all ideals, goals, Utopias, is in contradiction to what is the implicit, the actual; so the myth is an escape from that which you are. This escape inevitably creates the barren conflict of the opposites; and all conflict, inward or outward, is vain, futile, stupid, creating confusion and antagonism. So, if I may say so, your confusion arises from the conflict between what you are and the myth of what you should be. The myth, the ideal, is unreal; it is a self-projected escape, it has no actuality. The actual is what you are. What you are is much more important than what you should be. You can understand what is, but you cannot understand what should be. There is no understanding of an illusion, there is only understanding of the way it comes into being. The myth, the fictitious, the ideal, has no validity; it is a result, an end, and what is important is to understand the process through which it has come into being. To understand that which you are, whether pleasant or unpleasant, the myth, the ideal, the self-projected future state, must entirely cease. Then only can you tackle what is. To understand what is, there must be freedom from all distraction. Distraction is the condemnation or justification of what is. Distraction is comparison; it is resistance or discipline against the actual. Distraction is the very effort or compulsion to understand. All distractions are a hindrance to the swift pursuit of what is. What is is not static; it is in constant movement, and to follow it the mind must not be tethered to any belief, to any hope of success or fear of failure. Only in passive yet alert awareness can that which is unfold. This unfoldment is not of time. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 51 'CONTRADICTION' HE WAS A well-known and well-established politician, somewhat arrogant, and hence his impatience. Highly educated, he was rather ponderous and tortuous in his expositions. He could not afford to be subtle, for he was too much involved with appeasement; he was the public, the State, the power. He was a fluent speaker, and the very fluency was its own misfortune; he was incorruptible, and therein lay his hold on the public. He was oddly uncomfortable sitting in that room; the politician was far away, but the man was there, nervous and aware of himself. The bluster, the cocksureness was gone, and there was anxious inquiry, consideration and self-exposure. The late afternoon sun was coming through the window, and so also the noise of the traffic. The parrots, bright green flashes of light, were returning from their day's outing to settle for the night in safety among the trees of the town, those very large trees that are found along roads and in private gardens. As they flew, the parrots uttered hideous screeches. They never flew in a straight line but dropped, rose, or moved sideways, always chattering and calling. Their flight and their cries were in contradiction to their own beauty. Far away on the sea there was a single white sail. A small group of people filled the room, a contrast of colour and thought. A little dog came in, looked around and went out, scarcely noticed; and a temple bell was ringing. "Why is there contradiction in our life?" he asked. "We talk of the ideals of peace, of non-violence, and yet lay the foundation stone of war. We must be realists and not dreamers. We want peace, and yet our daily activities ultimately lead to war; we want light, and yet we close the window. Our very thought process is a contradiction, want and not-want. This contradiction is probably inherent in our nature, and it is therefore rather hopeless to try to be integrated, to be whole. Love and hate always seem to go together. Why is there this contradiction? Is it inevitable? Can one avoid it? Can the modern State be wholly for peace? Can it afford to be entirely one thing? It must work for peace and yet prepare for war; the goal is peace through preparedness for war." Why do we have a fixed point, an ideal, since deviation from it creates contradiction? If there were no fixed point, no conclusion, there would be no contradiction. We establish a fixed point, and then wander away from it, which is considered a contradiction. We come to a conclusion through devious ways and at different levels, and then try to live in accordance with that conclusion or ideal. As we cannot, a contradiction is created; and then we try to build a bridge between the fixed, the ideal, the conclusion, and the thought or act which contradicts it. This bridging is called consistency. And how we admire a man who is consistent, who sticks to his conclusion, to his ideal! Such a man we consider a saint. But the insane are also consistent, they also stick to their conclusions. There is no contradiction in a man who feels himself to be Napoleon, he is the embodiment of his conclusion; and a man who is completely identified with his ideal is obviously unbalanced. The conclusion which we call an ideal may be established at any level, and it may be conscious or unconscious; and having established it, we try to approximate our action to it, which creates contradiction. What is important is not how to be consistent with the pattern, with the ideal, but to discover why we have cultivated this fixed point, this conclusion; for if we had no pattern, then contradiction would disappear. So, why have we the ideal, the conclusion? Does not the ideal prevent action? Does not the ideal come into being to modify action, to control action? Is it not possible to act without the ideal? The ideal is the response of the background, of conditioning, and so it can never be the means of liberating man from conflict and confusion. On the contrary, the ideal, the conclusion, increases division between man and man and so hastens the process of disintegration. If there is no fixed point, no ideal from which to deviate, there is no contradiction with its urge to be consistent; then there is only action from moment to moment, and that action will always be complete and true. The true is not an ideal, a myth, but the actual. The actual can be understood and dealt with. The understanding of the actual cannot breed enmity, whereas ideas do. Ideals can never bring about a fundamental revolution, but only a modified continuity of the old. There is fundamental and constant revolution only in action from moment to moment which is not based on an ideal and so is free of conclusion. "But a State cannot be run on this principle. There must be a goal, a planned action, a concentrated effort on a particular issue. What you say may be applicable to the individual, and I see in it great possibilities for myself; but it will not work in collective action." Planned action needs constant modification, there must be adjustment to changing circumstances. Action according to a fixed blueprint will inevitably fail if you do not take into consideration the physical facts and psychological pressures. If you plan to build a bridge, you must not only make a blueprint of it, but you have to study the soil, the terrain where it is going to be built, otherwise your planning will not be adequate. There can be complete action only when all the physical facts and psychological stresses of man's total process are understood, and this understanding does not depend on any blueprint. It demands swift adjustment, which is intelligence; and it is only when there is no intelligence that we resort to conclusions, ideals, goals. The State is not static; its leaders may be, but the State, like the individual, is living, dynamic, and what is dynamic cannot be put in the strait-jacket of a blueprint, We generally build walls around the State, walls of conclusions, ideals, hoping to tie it down; but a living thing cannot be tied down without killing it, so we proceed to kill the State and then mould it according to our blueprint, according to the ideal. Only a dead thing can be forced to conform to a pattern; and as life is in constant movement, there is contradiction the moment we try to fit life into a fixed pattern or conclusion. Conformity to a pattern is the disintegration of the individual and so of the State. The ideal is not superior to life, and when we make it so there is confusion, antagonism and misery. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 52 'JEALOUSY' THE SUN WAS bright on the white wall opposite, and its glare made the faces obscure. A little child, without the prompting of the mother, came and sat close by, wide-eyed and wondering what it was all about. She was freshly washed and clothed and had some flowers in her hair. She was keenly observing everything, as children do, without recording too much. Her eyes were sparkling, and she did not quite know what to do, whether to cry, to laugh or to jump; instead, she took my hand and looked at it with absorbing interest. Presently she forgot all those people in the room, relaxed and went to sleep with her head in my lap. Her head was of good shape and well balanced; she was spotlessly clean. Her future was as confused and as miserable as that of the others in the room. Her conflict and sorrow were as inevitable as that sun on the wall; for to be free of pain and misery needs supreme intelligence, and her education and the influences about her would see to it that she was denied this intelligence. Love is so rare in this world, that flame without smoke; the smoke is overpowering, all-suffocating, bringing anguish and tears. Through the smoke, the flame is rarely seen; and when the smoke becomes all-important, the flame dies. Without that flame of love, life has no meaning, it becomes dull and weary; but the flame cannot be in the darkening smoke. The two cannot exist together; the smoke must cease for the clear flame to be. The flame is not a rival of the smoke; it has no rival. The smoke is not the flame, it cannot contain the flame; nor does the smoke indicate the presence of the flame, for the flame is free of smoke. "Cannot love and hate exist together? Is not jealousy an indication of love? We hold hands, and then the next minute scold; we say hard things, but soon embrace. We quarrel, then kiss and are reconciled. Is not all this love? The very expression of jealousy is an indication of love; they seem to go together, like light and darkness. The swift anger and the caress - are these not the fullness of love? The river is both turbulent and calm; it flows through shadow and sunlight, and therein lies the beauty of the river." What is it that we call love? It is this whole field of jealousy, of lust, of harsh words, of caress, of holding hands, of quarrelling and making up. These are the facts in this field of so-called love. Anger and caress are everyday facts in this field, are they not? And we try to establish a relationship between the various facts, or we compare one fact with another. We use one fact to condemn or justify another within this same field, or we try to establish a relationship between a fact within the field and something outside of it. We do not take each fact separately, but try to find an interrelationship between them. Why do we do this? We can understand a fact only when we do not use another fact in the same field as a medium of understanding, which merely creates conflict and confusion. But why do we compare the various facts in the same field? Why do we carry over the significance of one fact to offset or to explain another? "I am beginning to grasp what you mean. But why do we do this?" Do we understand a fact through the screen of idea, through the screen of memory? Do I understand jealousy because I have held your hand? The holding of the hand is a fact, as jealousy is a fact; but do I understand the process of jealousy because I have a remembrance of holding your hand? Is memory an aid to understanding? Memory compares, modifies, condemns, justifies, or identifies; but it cannot bring understanding. We approach the facts in the field of so-called love with idea, with conclusion. We do not take the fact of jealousy as it is and silently observe it, but we want to twist the fact according to the pattern, to the conclusion; and we approach it in this way because we really do not wish to understand the fact of jealousy. The sensations of jealousy are as stimulating as a caress; but we want stimulation without the pain and discomfort that invariably go with it. So there is conflict, confusion and antagonism within this field which we call love. But is it love? Is love an idea, a sensation, a stimulation? Is love jealousy? "Is not reality held in illusion? Does not darkness encompass or hide light? Is not God held in bondage?" These are mere ideas, opinions, and so they have no validity. Such ideas only breed enmity, they do not cover or hold reality. Where there is light, darkness is not. Darkness cannot conceal light; if it does, there is no light. Where jealousy is, love is not. Idea cannot cover love. To commune, there must be relationship. Love is not related to idea, and so idea cannot commune with love. Love is a flame without smoke. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 53 'SPONTANEITY' SHE WAS AMONG a group of people who had come to discuss some serious matter. She must have come out of curiosity, or was brought along by a friend. Well dressed, she held herself with some dignity, and she evidently considered herself very good looking. She was completely self-conscious: conscious of her body, of her looks, of her hair and the impression she was making on others. Her gestures were studied, and from time to time she took different attitudes which she must have thought out with great care. Her whole appearance had about it the air of a long cultivated pose into which she was determined to fit, whatever might happen. The others began to talk of serious things, and during the whole hour or more she maintained her pose. One saw among all those serious and intent faces this self-conscious girl, trying to follow what was being said and to join in the discussion; but no words came out of her. She wanted to show that she too was aware of the problem that was being discussed; but there was bewilderment in her eyes, for she was incapable of taking part in the serious conversation. One saw her quickly withdraw into herself, still maintaining the long-cultivated pose. All spontaneity was being sedulously destroyed, Each one cultivates a pose. There is the walk and the pose of a prosperous business man, the smile of one who has arrived; there is the look and the pose of an artist; there is the pose of a respectful disciple, and the pose of a disciplined ascetic. Like that self-conscious girl, the so-called religious man assumes a pose, the pose of self-discipline which he has sedulously cultivated through denials and sacrifices. She sacrifices spontaneity for effect, and he immolates himself to achieve an end. Both are concerned with a result, though at different levels; and while his result may be considered socially more beneficial than hers, fundamentally they are similar, one is not superior to the other. Both are unintelligent, for both indicate pettiness of mind. A petty mind is always petty; it cannot be made rich, abundant. Though such a mind may adorn itself or seek to acquire virtue, it remains what it is, a petty, shallow thing, and through so-called growth, experience, it can only be enriched in its own pettiness. An ugly thing cannot be made beautiful. The god of a petty mind is a petty god. A shallow mind does not become fathomless by adorning itself with knowledge and clever phrases, by quoting words of wisdom, or by decorating its outward appearance. Adornments, whether inward or outward, do not make a fathomless mind; and it is this fathomlessness of the mind that gives beauty, not the jewel or the acquired virtue. For beauty to come into being, the mind must be choicelessly aware of its own pettiness; there must be an awareness in which comparison has wholly ceased. The cultivated pose of the girl, and the disciplined pose of the so-called religious ascetic, are equally the tortured results of a petty mind, for both deny essential spontaneity. Both are fearful of the spontaneous, for it reveals them as they are, to themselves and to others; both are bent on destroying it, and the measure of their success is the completeness of their conformity to a chosen pattern or conclusion. But spontaneity is the only key that opens the door to what is. The spontaneous response uncovers the mind as it is; but what is discovered is immediately adorned or destroyed, and so spontaneity is put an end to. The killing of spontaneity is the way of a petty mind, which then decorates the outer, at whatever level; and this decoration is the worship of itself. Only in spontaneity, in freedom, can there be discovery. A disciplined mind cannot discover; it may function effectively and hence ruthlessly, but it cannot uncover the fathomless. It is fear that creates the resistance called discipline; but the spontaneous discovery of fear is freedom from fear. Conformity to a pattern, at whatever level, is fear, which only breeds conflict confusion and antagonism; but a mind that is in revolt is not fearless, for the opposite can never know the spontaneous, the free. Without spontaneity, there can be no self-knowledge; without self-knowledge, the mind is shaped by passing influences. These passing influences can make the mind narrow or expansive, but it is still within the sphere of influence. What is put together can be unmade, and that which is not put together can be known only through self-knowledge. The self is put together, and it is only in undoing the self that that which is not the result of influence, which has no cause, can be known. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 54 'THE CONSCIOUS AND THE UNCONSCIOUS' HE WAS A business man as well as a politician, and was very successful in both. He laughingly said that business and politics were a good combination; yet he was an earnest man in an odd, superstitious way. Whenever he had time he would read sacred books and repeat over and over again certain words which he considered beneficial. They brought peace to the soul, he said. He was advanced in years and very wealthy, but he was not generous either with the hand or with the heart. One could see that he was cunning and calculating, and yet there was an urge for something more than physical success. Life had scarcely touched him, for he had very studiously guarded himself against any exposure; he had made himself invulnerable, physically as well as psychologically. Psychologically he had refused to see himself as he was, and he could well afford to do this; but it was beginning to tell on him. When he was not watchful, there was about him a deep haunted look. Financially he was safe, at least as long as the present Government lasted and there was no revolution. He also wanted a safe investment in the so-called spiritual world, and that was why he played with ideas, mistaking ideas for something spiritual, real. He had no love except for his many possessions; he clung to them as a child clings to its mother, for he had nothing else. It was slowly dawning on him that he was a very sad man. Even this realization he was avoiding as long as he could; but life was pressing him. When a problem is not consciously soluble, does the unconscious take over and help to solve it? What is the conscious and what is the unconscious? Is there a definite line where the one ends and the other begins? Has the conscious a limit, beyond which it cannot go? Can it limit itself to its own boundaries? Is the unconscious something apart from the conscious? Are they dissimilar? When one fails, does the other begin to function? What is it that we call the conscious? To understand what it is made up of, we must observe how we consciously approach a problem. Most of us try to seek an answer to the problem; we are concerned with the solution, and not with the problem. We want a conclusion, we are looking for a way out of the problem; we want to avoid the problem through an answer, through a solution. We do not observe the problem itself, but grope for a satisfactory answer. Our whole conscious concern is with the finding of a solution, a satisfying conclusion. Often we do find an answer that gratifies us, and then we think we have solved the problem. What we have actually done is to cover over the problem with a conclusion, with a satisfactory answer; but under the weight of the conclusion, which has temporarily smothered it, the problem is still there. The search for an answer is an evasion of the problem. When there is no satisfactory answer, the conscious or upper mind stops looking; and then the so-called unconscious, the deeper mind, takes over and finds an answer. The conscious mind is obviously seeking a way out of the problem, and the way out is a satisfying conclusion. Is not the conscious mind itself made up of conclusions, whether positive or negative, and is it capable of seeking anything else? Is not the upper mind a storehouse of conclusions which are the residue of experiences, the imprints of the past? Surely, the conscious mind is made up of the past, it is founded on the past, for memory is a fabric of conclusions; and with these conclusions, the mind approaches a problem. It is incapable of looking at the problem without the screen of its conclusions; it cannot study, be silently aware of the problem itself. It knows only conclusions, pleasant or unpleasant, and it can only add to itself further conclusions, further ideas, further fixations. Any conclusion is a fixation, and the conscious mind inevitably seeks a conclusion. When it cannot find a satisfactory conclusion, the conscious mind gives up the search, and thereby it becomes quiet; and into the quiet upper mind, the unconscious pops an answer. Now, is the unconscious, the deeper mind, different in its make-up from the conscious mind? Is not the unconscious also made up of racial, group and social conclusions, memories? Surely, the unconscious is also the result of the past, of time, only it is submerged and waiting; and when called upon it throws up its own hidden conclusions. If they are satisfactory, the upper mind accepts them; and if they are not, it flounders about, hoping by some miracle to find an answer. If it does not find an answer, it wearily puts up with the problem, which gradually corrodes the mind. Disease and insanity follow. The upper and the deeper mind are not dissimilar; they are both made up of conclusions, memories, they are both the outcome of the past. They can supply an answer, a conclusion, but they are incapable of dissolving the problem. The problem is dissolved only when both the upper and the deeper mind are silent, when they are not projecting positive or negative conclusions. There is freedom from the problem only when the whole mind is utterly still, choicelessly aware of the problem; for only then the maker of the problem is not. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 55 'CHALLENGE AND RESPONSE' THE RIVER WAS full and sweeping, in some places several miles wide, and to see so much water was a delight. To the north were the green hills, fresh after the storm. It was splendid to see the great curve of the river with the white sails on it. The sails were large and triangular, and in the early morning light there was an enchantment about them, they seemed to come out of the water. The noise of the day had not yet begun, and the song of a boatman almost on the other side of the river came floating across the waters. At that hour his song seemed to fill the earth, and all other sounds were silenced; even the whistle of a train became soft and bearable. Gradually the noise of the village began: the loud quarrels at the water fountain, the bleating of goats, the cows asking to be milked, the heavy carts on the road, the shrill call of the crows, the cries and laughter of children. And so another day was born. The sun was over the palm trees, and the monkeys were sitting on the wall, their long tails almost touching the earth. They were large, but very timid; you called to them, and they jumped to the ground and ran to a big tree in the field. They were blackfaced and black-pawed, and they looked intelligent, but they were not as clever and mischievous as the little ones. "Why is thought so persistent? It seems so restless, so exasperatingly insistent. Do what you will, it is always active, like those monkeys, and its very activity is exhausting. You cannot escape from it, it pursues you relentlessly. You try to suppress it, and a few seconds later it pops up again. It is never quiet, never in repose; it is always pursuing, always analysing, always torturing itself. Sleeping or waking, thought is in constant turmoil, and it seems to have no peace, no rest." Can thought ever be at peace? It can think about peace and attempt to be peaceful, forcing itself to be still; but can thought in itself be tranquil? Is not thought in its very nature restless? Is not thought the constant response to constant challenge? There can be no cessation to challenge, because every movement of life is a challenge; and if there is no awareness of challenge, then there is decay, death. Challenge-and-response is the very way of life. Response can be adequate or inadequate; and it is inadequacy of response to challenge that provokes thought, with its restlessness. Challenge demands action, not verbalization. Verbalization is thought. The word, the symbol, retards action; and idea is the word, as memory is the word. There is no memory without the symbol, without the word. Memory is word, thought, and can thought be the true response to challenge? Is challenge an idea? Challenge is always new, fresh; and can thought, idea, ever be new? When thought meets the challenge, which is ever new, is not that response the outcome of the old, the past? When the old meets the new, inevitably the meeting is incomplete; and this incompleteness is thought in its restless search for completeness. Can thought, idea, ever be complete? Thought, idea, is the response of memory; and memory is ever incomplete. Experience is the response to challenge. This response is conditioned by the past, by memory; such response only strengthens the conditioning. Experience does not liberate, it strengthens belief, memory, and it is this memory that responds to challenge; so experience is the conditioner. "But what place has thought?" Do you mean what place has thought in action? Has idea any function in action? Idea becomes a factor in action in order to modify it, to control it, to shape it; but idea is not action. Idea, belief, is a safeguard against action; it has a place as a controller, modifying and shaping action. Idea is the pattern for action. "Can there be action without the pattern?" Not if one is seeking a result. Action towards a predetermined goal is not action at all, but conformity to belief, to idea. If one is seeking conformity, then thought, idea, has a place. The function of thought is to create a pattern for so-called action, and thereby to kill action. Most of us are concerned with the killing of action; and idea, belief, dogma, help to destroy it. Action implies insecurity, vulnerability to the unknown; and thought, belief, which is the known, is an effective barrier to the unknown. Thought can never penetrate into the unknown; it must cease for the unknown to be. The action of the unknown is beyond the action of thought; and thought, being aware of this, consciously or unconsciously clings to the known. The known is ever responding to the unknown, to the challenge; and from this inadequate response arise conflict, confusion and misery. It is only when the known, the idea, ceases that there can be the action of the unknown, which is measureless. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 56 'POSSESSIVENESS' HA HAD BROUGHT along his wife, for he said that it was their mutual problem. She had bright eyes and was small, sprightly, and rather disturbed. They were simple, friendly people; he spoke English fairly well, and she could just manage to understand it and ask simple questions. When it got a little difficult, she would turn to her husband and he would explain in their own language. He said that they had been married for over twenty-five years, and had several children; and that their problem was not the children, but the struggle between themselves. He explained that he had a job which gave him a modest income, and went on to say how difficult it was to live peacefully in this world, especially when you are married; he wasn't grumbling, he added, but there it was. He had been everything that a husband should be, at least he hoped so, but it was not always easy. It was difficult for them to come to the point, and they talked for some time about various things: the education of their children, the marriage of their daughters, the waste of money on ceremonies, a recent death in the family, and so on. They felt at ease and unhurried, for it was good to talk to someone who would listen and who perhaps might understand. Who cares to listen to the troubles of another? We have so many problems of our own that we have no time for those of others. To make another listen you have to pay either in coin, in prayer, or in belief. The professional will listen, it is his job, but in that there is no lasting release. We want to unburden ourselves freely, spontaneously, without any regrets afterwards. The purification of confusion does not depend on the one who listens, but on him who desires to open his heart. To open one's heart is important, and it will find someone, a beggar perhaps, to whom it can pour itself out. Introspective talk can never open the heart; it is enclosing, depressing and utterly useless. To be open is to listen, not only to yourself, but to every influence, to every movement about you. It may or may not be possible to do something tangibly about what you hear, but the very fact of being open brings about its own action. Such hearing purifies your own heart, cleansing it of the things of the mind. Hearing with the mind is gossip, and in it there is no release either for you or for the other; it is merely a continuation of pain, which is stupidity. Unhurriedly they were coming to the point. "We have come to talk about our problem. We are jealous - I am not but she is. Though she used not to be as openly jealous as she is now, there has always been a whisper of it. I don't think I have ever given her any reason to be jealous, but she finds a reason." Do you think there is any reason to be jealous? Is there a cause for jealousy? And will jealousy disappear when the cause is known? Have you not noticed that even when you know the cause, jealousy continues? Do not let us look for the reason, but let us understand jealousy itself. As you say, one might pick up almost anything to be envious about; envy is the thing to understand, and not what it is about. "Jealousy has been with me for a long time. I didn't know my husband very well when we married, and you know how it all happens; jealousy gradually crept in, like smoke in the kitchen." Jealousy is one of the ways of holding the man or the woman, is it not? The more we are jealous, the greater the feeling of possession. To possess something makes us happy; to call something, even a dog, exclusively our own makes us feel warm and comfortable. To be exclusive in our possession gives assurance and certainty to ourselves. To own something makes us important; it is this importance we cling to. To think that we own, not a pencil or a house, but a human being, makes us feel strong and strangely content. Envy is not because of the other, but because of the worth, the importance of ourselves. "But I am not important, I am nobody; my husband is all that I have. Even my children don't count." We all have only one thing to which we cling, though it takes different forms. You cling to your husband, others to their children, and yet others to some belief; but the intention is the same. Without the object to which we cling we feel so hopelessly lost, do we not? We are afraid to feel all alone. This fear is jealousy, hate, pain. There is not much difference between envy and hate. "But we love each other." Then how can you be jealous? We do not love, and that is the unfortunate part of it. You are using your husband, as he is using you, to be happy, to have a companion, not to feel alone; you may not possess much, but at least you have someone to be with. This mutual need and use we call love. "But this is dreadful." It is not dreadful, only we never look at it. We call it dreadful, give it a name and quickly look away - which is what you are doing. "I know, but I don't want to look. I want to carry on as I am, even though it means being jealous, because I cannot see anything else in life." If you saw something else you would no longer be jealous of your husband, would you? But you would cling to the other thing as now you are clinging to your husband, so you would be jealous of that too. You want to find a substitute for your husband, and not freedom from jealousy. We are all like that: before we give up one thing, we want to be very sure of another. When you are completely uncertain, then only is there no place for envy. There is envy when there is certainty, when you feel that you have something. Exclusiveness is this feeling of certainty; to own is to be envious. Ownership breeds hatred. We really hate what we possess, which is shown in jealousy. Where there is possession there can never be love; to possess is to destroy love. "I am beginning to see. I have really never loved my husband, have I? I am beginning to understand." And she wept. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 57 'SELF-ESTEEM' SHE HAD COME with three of her friends; they were all earnest and had the dignity of intelligence. One was quick to grasp, another was impatient in his quickness, and the third was eager, but the eagerness was not sustained. They made a good group, for they all shared the problem of their friend, and no one offered advice or weighty opinions. They all wanted to help her do whatever she thought was the right thing, and not merely act according to tradition, public opinion or personal inclination. The difficulty was, what was the right thing to do? She herself was not sure, she felt disturbed and confused. But there was much pressure for immediate action; a decision had to be made, and she could not postpone it any longer. It was a question of freedom from a particular relationship. She wanted to be free, and she repeated this several times. There was quietness in the room; the nervous agitation had subsided, and they were all eager to go into the problem without expecting a result, a definition of the right thing to do. The right action would emerge, naturally and fully, as the problem was exposed. The discovery of the content of the problem was important, and not the end result; for any answer would only be another conclusion, another opinion, another piece of advice, which would in no way solve the problem. The problem itself had to be understood, and not how to respond to the problem or what to do about it. The right approach to the problem was important, because the problem itself held the right action. The waters of the river were dancing, for the sun had made on them a path of light. A white sail crossed the path, but the dance was not disturbed. It was a dance of pure delight. The trees were full of birds, scolding, preening, flying away only to come back again. Several monkeys were tearing off the tender leaves and stuffing them in their mouths; their weight bent the delicate branches into long curves, yet they held on lightly and were unafraid. With what ease they moved from branch to branch; though they jumped, it was a flow, the taking off and the landing were one movement. They would sit with their tails hanging and reach for the leaves. They were high up, and took no notice of the people passing below. As darkness approached, the parrots came by the hundred to settle down for the night among the thick leaves. One saw them come and disappear into the foliage. The new moon was just visible. Far away a train whistled as it was crossing the long bridge around the curve of the river. This river was sacred, and people came from far distances to bathe in it, that their sins might be washed away. Every river is lovely and sacred, and the beauty of this one was its wide, sweeping curve and the islands of sand between deep stretches of water; and those silent white sails that went up and down the river every day. "I want to be free from a particular relationship," she said. What do you mean by wanting to be free? When you say, "I want to be free," you imply that you are not free. In what way are you not free? "I am free physically; I am free to come and go, because physically I am no longer the wife. But I want to be completely free; I do not want to have anything to do with that particular person." In what way are you related to that person, if you are already physically free? Are you related to him in any other way? "I do not know, but I have great resentment against him. I do not want to have anything to do with him." You want to be free, and yet you have resentment against him? Then you are not free of him. Why have you this resentment against him ? "I have recently discovered what he is: his meanness, his real lack of love, his complete selfishness. I cannot tell you what a horror I have discovered in him. To think that I was jealous of him, that I idolized him, that I submitted to him! Finding him to be stupid and cunning when I thought him an ideal husband, loving and kind, has made me resentful of him. To think I had anything to do with him makes me feel unclean. I want to be completely free from him." You may be physically free from him, but as long as you have resentment against him, you are not free. If you hate him, you are tied to him; if you are ashamed of him, you are still enslaved by him. Are you angry with him, or with yourself? He is what he is, and why be angry with him? Is your resentment really against him? Or, having seen what is, are you ashamed of yourself for having been associated with it? Surely, you are resentful, not of him, but of your own judgment, of your own actions. You are ashamed of yourself. Being unwilling to see this, you blame him for what he is. When you realize that your resentment against him is an escape from your own romantic idolization, then he is out of the picture. You are not ashamed of him, but of yourself for being associated with him. It is with yourself that you are angry, and not with him. "Yes, that is so." If you really see this, experience it as a fact, then you are free of him. He is no longer the object of your enmity. Hate binds as love does. "But how am I to be free from my own shame, from my own stupidity? I see very clearly that he is what he is, and is not to be blamed; but how am I to be free of this shame, this resentment which has been slowly ripening in me and has come to fullness in this crisis? How am I to wipe out the past?" Why you desire to wipe out the past is of more significance than knowing how to wipe it out. The intention with which you approach the problem is more important than knowing what to do about it. Why do you want to wipe out the memory of that association. "I dislike the memory of all those years. It has left a very bad taste in my mouth. Is that not a good enough reason?" Not quite, is it? Why do you want to wipe out those past memories? Surely, not because they leave a bad taste in your mouth. Even if you were able through some means to wipe out the past, you might again be caught in actions that you would be ashamed of. Merely wiping out the unpleasant memories does not solve the problem, does it? "I thought it did; but what is the problem then? Are you not making it unnecessarily complex? It is already complex enough, at least my life is. Why add another burden to it?" Are we adding a further burden, or are we trying to understand what is and be free of it? Please have a little patience. What is the urge that is prompting you to wipe out the past? It may be unpleasant, but why do you want to wipe it out? You have a certain idea or picture of yourself which these memories contradict, and so you want to get rid of them. You have a certain estimation of yourself, have you not? "Of course, otherwise..." We all place ourselves at various levels, and we are constantly falling from these heights. It is the falls we are ashamed of. Self-esteem is the cause of our shame, of our fall. It is this self-esteem that must be understood, and not the fall. If there is no pedestal on which you have put yourself, how can there be any fall? Why have you put yourself on a pedestal called self-esteem, human dignity, the ideal, and so on? If you can understand this, then there will be no shame of the past; it will have completely gone. You will be what you are without the pedestal. If the pedestal is not there, the height that makes you look down or look up, then you are what you have always avoided. It is this avoidance of what is, of what you are, that brings about confusion and antagonism, shame and resentment. You do not have to tell me or another what you are, but be aware of what you are, whatever it is, pleasant or unpleasant: live with it without justifying or resisting it. Live with it without naming it; for the very term is a condemnation or an identification. Live with it without fear, for fear prevents communion, and without communion you cannot live with it. To be in communion is to love. Without love, you cannot wipe out the past; with love, there is no past. Love, and time is not. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 58 'FEAR' SHE HAD TRAVELLED a long way, half across the world. There was a wary look about her, a guarded approach, a tentative opening that would close up at any suggestion of too deep an inquiry. She was not timid; but she was unwilling, though not consciously, to expose her inward state. Yet she wanted to talk about herself and her problems, and had come all that distance expressly to do so. She was hesitant, uncertain of her words, aloof, and at the same time eager to talk about herself. She had read many books on psychology, and while she had never been analysed, she was entirely capable of analysing herself; in fact, she said that from childhood she was used to analysing her own thoughts and feelings. Why are you so intent upon analysing yourself? "I do not know, but I have always done it ever since I can remember." Is analysis a way of protecting yourself against yourself, against emotional explosions and consequent regrets? "I am pretty sure that is why I analyse, constantly interrogate. I do not want to get caught up in all the mess about me, personal and general. It is too hideous, and I want to keep out of it. I see now that I have used analysis as a means of keeping myself intact, of not getting caught in the social and family turmoil." Have you been able to avoid getting caught? "I am not at all sure. I have succeeded in some directions, but in others I do not think I have. In talking about all this, I see what an extraordinary thing I have done. I have never looked at it all so clearly before." Why are you protecting yourself so cleverly, and against what? You say, against the mess around you; but what is there in the mess against which you have to protect yourself? If it is a mess and you see it clearly as such, then you do not have to guard yourself against it. One guards oneself only when there is fear and not understanding. So what are you afraid of? "I do not think I am afraid; I simply do not want to get entangled in the miseries of existence. I have a profession that supports me, but I want to be free of the rest of the entanglements, and I think I am." If you are not afraid, then why do you resist entanglements? One resists something only when one does not know how to deal with it. If you know how a motor works, you are free of it; if anything goes wrong, you can put it right. We resist that which we do not understand; we resist confusion, evil, misery, only when we do not know its structure, how it is put together. You resist confusion because you are not aware of its structure, of its makeup. Why are you not aware of it? "But I have never thought about it that way." It is only when you are in direct relationship with the structure of confusion that you can be aware of the working of its mechanism. It is only when there is communion between two people that they understand each other; if they resist each other, there is no understanding. Communion or relationship can exist only when there is no fear. "I see what you mean." Then what are you afraid of? "What do you mean by fear?" Fear can exist only in relationship; fear cannot exist by itself, in isolation. There is no such thing as abstract fear; there is fear of the known or the unknown, fear of what one has done or what one may do; fear of the past or of the future. The relationship between what one is and what one desires to be causes fear. Fear arises when one interprets the fact of what one is in terms of reward and punishment. Fear comes with responsibility and the desire to be free from it. There is fear in the contrast between pain and pleasure. Fear exists in the conflict of the opposites. The worship of success brings the fear of failure. Fear is the process of the mind in the struggle of becoming. In becoming good, there is the fear of evil; in becoming complete, there is the fear of loneliness; in becoming great, there is the fear of being small. Comparison is not understanding; it is prompted by fear of the unknown in relation to the known. Fear is uncertainty in search of security. The effort to become is the beginning of fear, the fear of being or not being. The mind, the residue of experience, is always in fear of the unnamed, the challenge. The mind, which is name, word, memory, can function only within the field of the known; and the unknown, which is challenge from moment to moment, is resisted or translated by the mind in terms of the known. This resistance or translation of the challenge is fear; for the mind can have no communion with the unknown. The known cannot commune with the unknown; the known must cease for the unknown to be. The mind is the maker of fear; and when it analyses fear, seeking its cause in order to be free from it, the mind only further isolates itself and thereby increases fear. When you use analysis to resist confusion, you are increasing the power of resistance; and resistance of confusion only increases the fear of it, which hinders freedom. In communion there is freedom, but not in fear. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 59"HOW AM I TO LOVE?" WE WERE HIGH up on the side of a mountain overlooking the valley, and the large stream was a silver ribbon in the sun. Here and there the sun came through the thick foliage, and there was the scent of many flowers. It was a delicious morning, and the dew was still heavy on the ground. The scented breeze was coming across the valley, bringing the distant noise of people, the sound of bells and of an occasional water-horn. In the valley the smoke was going straight up, and the breeze was not strong enough to disperse it. The column of smoke was a lovely thing to watch; it rose from the bottom of the valley and tried to reach up to the very heavens, like that ancient pine. A large black squirrel which had been scolding us gave it up at last and came down the tree to investigate further, and then, partially satisfied, went bounding away. A tiny cloud was forming, but otherwise the sky was clear, a soft, pale blue. He had no eyes for all this. He was consumed with his immediate problem, as he had been consumed with his problems before. The problems moved and had their being around himself. He was a very rich man; he was lean and hard, but had an easy air with a ready smile. He was now looking across the valley, but the quickening beauty had not touched him; there was no softening of the face, the lines were still hard and determined. He was still hunting, not for money, but for what he called God. He was forever talking about love and God. He had hunted far and wide, and had been to many teachers; and as he was getting on in years, the hunt was becoming more keen. He had come several times to talk over these matters, but there was always a look of cunning and calculation; he was constantly weighing how much it would cost to find his God, how expensive the journey would be. He knew that he could not take with him what he had; but could he take something else, a coin that had value where he was going? He was a hard man, and there was never a gesture of generosity either of the heart or of the hand. He was always very hesitant to give the little extra; he felt everyone must be worthy of his reward, as he had been worthy. But he was there that morning to further expose himself; for there was trouble brewing, serious disturbances were taking place in his otherwise successful life. The goddess of success was not with him altogether. "I am beginning to realize what I am," he said. "I have these many years subtly opposed and resisted you. You talk against the rich, you say hard things about us, and I have been angry with you; but I have been unable to hit you back, for I cannot get at you. I have tried in different ways, but I cannot lay my hands on you. But what do you want me to do? I wish to God I had never listened to you or come anywhere near you. I now have sleepless nights, and I always slept so well before; I have torturing dreams, and I rarely used to dream at all. I have been afraid of you, I have silently cursed you - but I cannot go back. What am I to do? I have no friends, as you pointed out, nor can I buy them as I used to - I am too exposed by what has happened. perhaps I can be your friend. You have offered help, and here I am. What am I to do?" To be exposed is not easy; and has one exposed oneself? Has one opened that cupboard which one has so carefully locked, stuffing into it the things which one does not want to see? Does one want to open it and see what is there? "I do, but how am I to go about it?" Does one really want to, or is one merely playing with the intention? Once open, however little, it cannot be closed again. The door will always remain open; day and night, its contents will be spilling out. One may try to run away, as one always does; but it will be there, waiting and watching. Does one really want to open it? "Of course I do, that is why I have come. I must face it, for I am coming to the end of things. What am I to do?" Open and look. To accumulate wealth one must injure, be cruel, ungenerous; there must be ruthlessness, cunning calculation, dishonesty; there must be the search for power, that egocentric action which is merely covered over by such pleasant-sounding words as responsibility, duty, efficiency, rights. "Yes, that is all true, and more. There has been no consideration of anyone; the religious pursuits have been mere cloaks of respectability. Now that I look at it, I see that everything revolved around me. I was the centre, though I pretended not to be. I see all that. But what am I to do?" First one must recognize things for what they are. But beyond all this, how can one wipe these things away if there is no affection, no love, that flame without smoke? It is this flame alone that will wipe away the contents of the cupboard, and nothing else; no analysis, no sacrifice, no renunciation can do it. When there is this flame, then it will no longer be a sacrifice, a renunciation; then you will meet the storm without waiting for it. "But how am I to love? I know I have no warmth for people; I have been ruthless, and they are not with me who should be with me. I am utterly alone, and how am I to know love? I am not a fool to think that I can get it by some conscious act, buy it through some sacrifice, some denial. I know I have never loved, and I see that if I had, I would not be in this situation. What am I to do? Should I give up my properties, my wealth?" If you find the garden that you have so carefully cultivated has produced only poisonous weeds, you have to tear them out by the roots; you have to pull down the walls that have sheltered them. You may or may not do it, for you have extensive gardens, cunningly walled-in and well-guarded. You will do it only when there is no bartering; but it must be done, for to die rich is to have lived in vain. But beyond all this, there must be the flame that cleanses the mind and the heart, making all things new. That flame is not of the mind, it is not a thing to be cultivated. The show of kindliness can be made to shine, but it is not the flame; the activity called service, though beneficial and necessary, is not love; the much-practised and disciplined tolerance, the cultivated compassion of the church and temple, the gentle speech, the soft manner, the worship of the saviour, of the image, of the ideal -none of this is love. "I have listened and observed, and I am aware that there is no love in any of these things. But my heart is empty, and how is it to be filled? What am I to do?" Attachment denies love. Love is not to be found in suffering; though jealousy is strong, it cannot bind love. Sensation and its gratification is ever coming to an end; but love is inexhaustible. "These are mere words to me. I am starving: feed me." To be fed, there must be hunger. If you are hungry, you will find food. Are you hungry, or merely greedy for the taste of some other food? If you are greedy, you will find that which will gratify; but it will soon come to an end, and it will not be love. "But what am I to do?" You keep on repeating that question. What you are to do is not important; but it is essential to be aware of what you are doing. You are concerned with future action, and that is one way of avoiding immediate action. You do not want to act, and so you keep on asking what you are to do. You are again being cunning, deceiving yourself, and so your heart is empty. You want to fill it with the things of the mind; but love is not of the mind. Let your heart be empty. Do not fill it with words, with the actions of the mind. Let your heart be wholly empty; then only will it be filled. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 60 'THE FUTILITY OF RESULT' THEY HAD COME from different parts of the world, and had been discussing some of the problems that confront most of us. It is good to talk things over; but mere words, clever arguments and wide knowledge do not bring freedom from aching problem. Cleverness and knowledge may and often do show their own futility, and the discovery of their futility makes the mind silent. In that silence, understanding of the problem comes; but to seek that silence is to breed another problem, another conflict. Explanations, the uncovering of cause, analytical dissections of the problem, do not in any way resolve it; for it cannot be resolved by the ways of the mind. The mind can only breed further problems, it can run away from the problem through explanations, ideals, intentions; but do what it will, the mind cannot free itself from the problem. The mind itself is the field in which problems, conflicts, grow and multiply. Thought cannot silence itself; it can put on a cloak of silence, but that is only concealment and pose. Thought can kill itself by disciplined action towards a predetermined end; but death is not silent. Death is more vociferous than life. Any movement of the mind is a hindrance to silence. Through the open windows came a confusion of sounds: the loud talk and quarrelling in the village, an engine letting off steam, the cries of children and their free laughter, the rumble of a passing lorry, the buzzing of bees, the strident call of the crows. And amidst all this noise, a silence was creeping into the room, unsought and uninvited. Through words and arguments, through misunderstandings and struggles, that silence was spreading its wings. The quality of that silence is not the cessation of noise, of chatter and word; to include that silence, the mind must lose its capacity to expand. That silence is free from all compulsions, conformities, efforts; it is inexhaustible and so ever new, ever fresh. But the word is not that silence. Why is it that we geek results, goals? Why is it that the mind is ever pursuing an end? And why should it not pursue an end? In coming here, are we not seeking something, some experience, some delight? We are tired and fed up with the many things that we have been playing with; we have turned away from them, and now we want a new toy to play with. We go from one thing to another, like a woman who goes window shopping, till we find something that is entirely satisfying; and then we settle down to stagnate. We are forever craving something; and having tasted many things which were mostly unsatisfactory, we now want the ultimate thing: God, truth, or what you will. We want a result, a new experience, a new sensation that will endure in spite of everything. We never see the futility of result, but only of a particular result; so we wander from one result to another, hoping always to find the one that will end all search, The search for result, for success, is binding, limiting; it is ever coming to an end. Gaining is a process of ending. To arrive is death. Yet that is what we are seeking, is it not? We are seeking death, only we call it result, goal, purpose. We want to arrive. We are tired of this everlasting struggle, and we want to get there -"there" placed at whatever level. We do not see the wasteful destructiveness of struggle, but desire to be free of it through gaining a result. We do not see the truth of struggle, of conflict, and so we use it as a means of getting what we want, the most satisfying thing; and that which is most satisfying is determined by the intensity of our discontent. This desire for result always ends in gain; but we want a neverending result So, what is our problem? How to be free from the craving for results, is that it? "I think that is it. The very desire to be free is also a desire for a result, is it not?" We shall get thoroughly entangled if we pursue that line. Is it that we cannot see the futility of result, at whatever level we may place it? Is that our problem? Let us see our problem clearly, and then perhaps we shall be able to understand it. Is it a question of seeing the futility of one result and so discarding all desire for results? If we perceive the uselessness of one escape, then all escapes are vain. Is that our problem? Surely, it is not quite that, is it? Perhaps we can approach it differently. Is not experience a result also? If we are to be free from results, must we not also be free from experience? For is not experience an outcome, an end? "The end of what?" The end of experiencing. Experience is the memory of experiencing, is it not? When experiencing ends there is experience, the result. While experiencing, there is no experience; experience is but the memory of having experienced. As the state of experiencing fades, experience begins. Experience is ever hindering experiencing, living. Results, experiences, come to an end; but experiencing is inexhaustible. When the inexhaustible is hindered by memory, then the search for results begins. The mind, the result, is always seeking an end, a purpose, and that is death. Death is not when the experiencer is not. Only then is there the inexhaustible. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 61 'THE DESIRE FOR BLISS' THE SINGLE TREE on the wide green lawn was the centre of the little world which included the woods, the house and the small lake; the whole surrounding area seemed to flow towards the tree, which was high and spreading. It must have been very old, but there was a freshness about it, as though it had just come into being; there were hardly any dead branches, and its leaves were spotless, glistening in the morning sun. Because it was alone, all things seemed to come to it. Deer and pheasants, rabbits and cattle congregated in its shade, especially at midday. The symmetrical beauty of that tree gave a shape to the sky, and in the early morning light the tree appeared to be the only thing that was living. From the woods, the tree seemed far away; but from the tree, the woods, the house and even the sky seemed close - one often felt one could touch the passing clouds. We had been seated under the tree for some time, when he came to join us. He was seriously interested in meditation, and said that he had practiced it for many years. He did not belong to any particular school of thought, and though he had read many of the Christian mystics, he was more attracted to the meditations and disciplines of the Hindu and Buddhist saints. He had realized early, he continued, the immaturity of asceticism, with its peculiar fascination and cultivation of power through abstinence, and he had from the beginning avoided all extremes. He had, however, practised discipline, an unvarying self-control, and was determined to realize that which lay through and beyond meditation. He had led what was considered to be a strict moral life, but that was only a minor incident, nor was he attracted to the ways of the world. He had once played with worldly things, but the play was over some years ago. He had a job of sorts, but that too was quite incidental. The end of meditation is meditation itself. The search for something through and beyond meditation is end-gaining; and that which is gained is again lost. Seeking a result is the continuation of self-projection; result, however lofty, is the projection of desire. Meditation as a means to arrive, to gain, to discover, only gives strength to the meditator. The meditator is the meditation; meditation is the understanding of the meditator. "I meditate to find ultimate reality, or to allow that reality to manifest itself. It is not exactly a result I am seeking, but that bliss which occasionally one senses. It is there; and as a thirsty man craves for water, I want that inexpressible happiness. That bliss is infinitely greater than all joy, and I pursue it as my most cherished desire." That is, you meditate to gain what you want. To attain what you desire, you strictly discipline yourself, follow certain rules and regulations; you lay out and follow a course in order to have that which is at the end of it. You hope to achieve certain results, certain well-marked stages, depending upon your persistence of effort, and progressively experience greater and greater joy. This well-laid-out course assures you of the final result. So your meditation is a very calculated affair, is it not? "When you put it that way, it does seem, in the superficial sense, rather absurd; but deeply, what is wrong with it? What is wrong essentially with seeking that bliss? I suppose I do want a result for all my efforts; but again, why shouldn't one?" This desire for bliss implies that bliss is something final, everlasting, does it not? All other results have been unsatisfactory; one has ardently pursued worldly goals and has seen their transient nature, and now one wants the everlasting state, an end that has no ending. The mind is seeking a final and imperishable refuge; so it disciplines and train itself, practises certain virtues to gain what it wants. It may once have experienced that bliss, and now it is panting after it like other pursuers of results, you are pursuing yours, only you have placed it at a different level; you may call it higher, but that is irrelevant. A result means an ending; arrival implies another effort to become. The mind is never at rest, it is always striving, always achieving, always gaining - and, of course, always in fear of losing. This process is called meditation. Can a mind which is caught in endless becoming be aware of bliss? Can a mind that has imposed discipline upon itself ever be free to receive that bliss? Through effort and struggle, through resistance and denials, the mind makes itself insensitive; and can such a mind be open and vulnerable? Through the desire for that bliss, have you not built a wall around yourself which the imponderable, the unknown, cannot penetrate? Have you not effectively shut yourself off from the new? Out of the old, you have made a path for the new; and can the new be contained in the old? The mind can never create the new; the mind itself is a result, and all results are an outcome of the old. Results can never be new; the pursuit of a result can never be spontaneous; that which is free cannot pursue an end. The goal, the ideal, is always a projection of the mind, and surely that is not meditation. Meditation is the freeing of the meditator; in freedom alone is there discovery, sensitivity to receive. Without freedom, there can be no bliss; but freedom does not come through discipline. Discipline makes the pattern of freedom, but the pattern is not freedom. The pattern must be broken for freedom to be. The breaking of the mould is meditation. But this breaking of the mould is not a goal, a ideal. The mould is broken from moment to moment. The broken moment is the forgotten moment. It is the remembered moment that gives shape to the mould, and only then does the maker of the mould come into being, the creator of all problems, conflicts, miseries. Meditation is freeing the mind of its own thoughts at all levels. Thought creates the thinker. The thinker is not separate from thought; they are a unitary process, and not two separate processes. The separate processes only lead to ignorance and illusion. The meditator is the meditation. Then the mind is alone, not made alone; it is silent, not made silent. Only to the alone can the causeless come, only to the alone is there bliss. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 62 'THOUGHT AND CONSCIOUSNESS' ALL THINGS WERE withdrawing into themselves. The trees were enclosing themselves in their own being; the birds were folding their wings to brood over their day's wanderings; the river had lost its glow, and the waters were no longer dancing but quiet and closed. The mountains were distant and unapproachable, and man had withdrawn into his house. Night had come, and there was the stillness of isolation. There was no communion; each thing had closed itself, set itself apart. The flower, the sound, the talk -everything was unexposed, invulnerable. There was laughter, but it was isolated and distant; the talk was muffled and from within. Only the stars were inviting, open and communicating; but they too were very far away. Thought is always an outward response, it can never respond deeply. Thought is always the outer; thought is always an effect, and thinking is the reconciliation of effects. Thought is always superficial, though it may place itself at different levels. Thought can never penetrate the profound, the implicit. Thought cannot go beyond itself, and every attempt to do so is its own frustration. "What do you mean by thought?" Thought is response to any challenge; thought is not action, doing. Thought is an outcome, the result of a result; it is the result of memory. Memory is thought, and thought is the verbalization of memory. Memory is experience. The thinking process is the conscious process, the hidden as well as the open. This whole thinking process is consciousness; the waking and the sleeping, the upper and the deeper levels are all part of memory, experience. Thought is not independent. There is no independent thinking; "independent thinking" is a contradiction in terms. Thought, being a result, opposes or agrees, compares or adjusts, condemns or justifies, and therefore it can never be free. A result can never be free; it can twist about, manipulate, wander, go a certain distance, but it cannot be free from its own mooring. Thought is anchored to memory, and it can never be free to discover the truth of any problem. "Do you mean to say that thought has no value at all?" It has value in the reconciliation of effects, but it has no value in itself as a means to action. Action is revolution, not the reconciliation of effects. Action freed from thought, idea, belief, is never within a pattern. There can be activity within the pattern, and that activity is either violent, bloody, or the opposite; but it is not action. The opposite is not action, it is a modified continuation of activity. The opposite is still within the field of result, and in pursuing the opposite, thought is caught within the net of its own responses. Action is not the result of thought; action has no relation to thought. Thought, the result, can never create the new; the new is from moment to moment, and thought is always the old, the past, the conditioned. It has value but no freedom. All value is limitation, it binds. Thought is binding, for it is cherished. "What relationship is there between consciousness and thought?" Are they not the same? Is there any difference between thinking and being conscious? Thinking is a response; and is being conscious not also a response? When one is conscious of that chair, it is a response to a stimulus; and is not thought the response of memory to a challenge? It is this response that we call experience. Experiencing is challenge and response; and this experiencing, together with the naming or recording of it - this total process, at different levels, is consciousness, is it not? Experience is the result, the outcome of experiencing. The result is given a term; the term itself is a conclusion, one of the many conclusions which constitute memory. This concluding process is consciousness. The conclusion, the result, is self-consciousness. The self is memory, the many conclusions; and thought is the response of memory. Thought is always a conclusion; thinking is concluding, and therefore it can never be free. Thought is always the superficial, the conclusion. Consciousness is the recording of the superficial. The superficial separates itself as the outer and the inner, but this separation does not make thought any the less superficial. "But is there not something which is beyond thought, beyond time, something that is not created by the mind?" Either you have been told about that state, have read about it, or there is the experiencing of it. The experiencing of it can never be an experience, a result; it cannot be thought about - and if it is, it is a remembrance and not experiencing. You can repeat what you have read or heard, but the word is not the thing; and the word, the very repetition, prevents the state of experiencing. That state of experiencing cannot be as long as there is thinking; thought, the result, the effect, can never know the state of experiencing. "Then how is thought to come to an end?" See the truth that thought, the outcome of the known, can never be in the state of experiencing. Experiencing is always the new; thinking is always of the old. See the truth of this, and truth brings freedom - freedom from thought, the result, Then there is that which is beyond consciousness, which is neither sleeping nor waking, which is nameless: it is COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 63 'SELF-SACRIFICE' HE WAS RATHER fat and very pleased with himself. He had been to prison several times and had been beaten by the police, and now he was a well-known politician on his way to becoming a minister. He was at several of the meetings, sitting unobtrusively, one among the many; but the many were aware of him, and he was conscious of them. When he spoke, he had the authoritative voice of the platform; many of the people looked at him, and his voice came down to their level. Though he was among them, he had set himself apart; he was the big politician, known and looked up to; but the regard only went to a certain point, and no further. One was aware of all this as the discussion began, and there was that peculiar atmosphere that comes when a well-known figure is among the audience, an atmosphere of surprise and expectation, of camaraderie and suspicion, of condescending aloofness and pleasure. He had come with a friend, and the friend began to explain who he was: the number of times he had been to prison, the beatings he had had, and the immense sacrifices he had made for the cause of the freedom of his country. He had been a wealthy man, thoroughly Europeanised, with a large house and gardens, several cars, and so on. As the friend was narrating the big man's exploits, his voice became more and more admiring and respectful; but there was an undercurrent, a thought that seemed to say, "He may not be all that he should be, but after all, look at the sacrifices he has made, at least that is something." The big man himself talked of improvement, of hydro-electrical development, of bringing prosperity to the people, of the current threat of Communism, of vast schemes and goals. Man was forgotten, but plans and ideologies remained. Renunciation to gain an end is barter; in it there is no living up, but only exchange. Self-sacrifice is an extension of the self. The sacrifice of the self is a refinement of the self, and however subtle the self may make itself, it is still enclosed, petty, limited. Renunciation for a cause, however great, however extensive and significant, is substitution of the cause for the self; the cause or the idea becomes the self, the "me" and the "mine." Conscious sacrifice is the expansion of the self, living up in order to gather again; conscious sacrifice is negative assertion of the self. To give up is another form of acquisition. You renounce this in order to gain that. This is put at a lower level, that at a higher level; and to gain the higher, you "give up" the lower. In this process, there is no living up, but only a gaining of greater satisfaction; and the search for greater satisfaction has no element of sacrifice. Why use a righteous-sounding word for a gratifying activity in which all indulge? You "gave up" your social position in order to gain a different kind of position, and presumably you have it now; so your sacrifice has brought you the desired reward. Some want their reward in heaven, others here and now. "This reward has come in the course of events, but consciously I never sought reward when I first joined the movement." The very joining of a popular or an unpopular movement is its own reward, is it not? One may not consciously join for a reward, but the inward promptings that compel one to join are complex, and without understanding them one can hardly say that one has not sought reward. Surely, what is important is to understand this urge to renounce, to sacrifice, is it not? Why do we want to give up? To answer that, must we not first find out why we are attached? It is only when we are attached that we talk about detachment; there would be no struggle to be detached if there were no attachment. There would be no renunciation if there were no possession. We possess, and then renounce in order to possess something else. This progressive renunciation is looked upon as being noble and edifying. "Yes, that is so. If there were no possession, of course there would be no need of renunciation." So, renunciation, self-sacrifice, is not a gesture of greatness, to be praised and copied. We possess because without possession we are not. Possessions are many and varied. One who possesses no worldly things may be attached to knowledge, to ideas; another may be attached to virtue, another to experience, another to name and fame, and so on. Without possessions, the "me" is not; the "me" is the possession, the furniture, the virtue, the name. In its fear of not being, the mind is attached to name, to furniture, to value; and it will drop these in order to be at a higher level, the higher being the more gratifying, the more permanent. The fear of uncertainty, of not being, makes for attachment, for possession. When the possession is unsatisfactory or painful, we renounce it for a more pleasurable attachment. The ultimate gratifying possession is the word God, or its substitute, the State. "But it is a natural thing to be afraid of being nothing. You are suggesting, I take it, that one should love to be nothing." As long as you are attempting to become something, as long as you are possessed by something, there will inevitably be conflict, confusion and increasing misery. You may think that you yourself, in your achievement and success, will not be caught in this mounting disintegration; but you cannot escape it, for you are of it. Your activities, your thoughts, the very structure of your existence is based on conflict and confusion, and therefore on the process of disintegration. As long as you are unwilling to be nothing, which in fact you are, you must inevitably breed sorrow and antagonism. The willingness to be nothing is not a matter of renunciation, of enforcement, inner or outer, but of seeing the truth of what is. Seeing the truth of what is brings freedom from the fear of insecurity, the fear which breeds attachment and leads to the illusion of detachment, renunciation. The love of what is is the beginning of wisdom. Love alone shares, it alone can commune; but renunciation and self-sacrifice are the ways of isolation and illusion. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 64 'THE FLAME AND THE SMOKE' IT HAD BEEN warm all day and it was a trial to be out. The glare of the road and of the water, already harsh and penetrating, was made more intense by the white houses; and the earth that had been green was now bright golden and parched. The rains would not come for many months. The little stream had dried up and was now a winding ribbon of sand. Some cattle were in the shade of the trees, and the boy who was looking after them sat apart, flinging stones and singing in his loneliness. The village was some miles away, and he was by himself; he was thin and underfed, but cheerful, and his song was not too sad. Beyond the hill was the house, and we reached it as the sun was going down. From the roof one could see the green tops of the palms, stretching in an unending wave to the yellow sands. The palms cast a yellow shade, and their green was golden. Beyond the yellow sands was the green-grey sea. White waves were crowding on to the beach, but the deep waters were quiet. The clouds over the sea were taking on colour, though the sun was setting far away from them. The evening star was just showing herself. A cool breeze had come up, but the roof was still warm. A small group had gathered, and they must have been there for some time. "I am married and the mother of several children, but I have never felt love. I am beginning to wonder if it exists at all. We know sensations, passions, excitements and satisfying pleasures, but I wonder if we know love. We often say that we love, but there is always a withholding. Physically we may not withhold, we may give ourselves completely a gift; but even then there is a withholding. The giving is a gift of the senses, but that which alone can give is unawakened, far away. We meet and get lost in the smoke, but that is not the flame. Why is it that we have not got the flame? Why is the flame not burning without smoke? I wonder if we have become too clever, too knowing to have that perfume. I suppose I am too well read, too modern and stupidly superficial. In spite of clever talk, I suppose I am really dull." But is it a matter of dullness? Is love a bright ideal, the unattainable which becomes attainable only if the conditions are fulfilled? Has one the time to fulfil all the conditions? We talk about beauty, write about it, paint it, dance it, preach it, but we are not beautiful, nor do we know love. We know only the words. To be open and vulnerable is to be sensitive; where there is a withholding, there is insensitivity. The vulnerable is the insecure, the free from tomorrow; the open is the implicit, the unknown. That which is open and vulnerable is beautiful; the enclosed is dull and insensitive. Dullness, like cleverness, is a form of self-protection. We open this door, but keep that one closed, for we want the fresh breeze only through a particular opening. We never go outside or open all the doors and windows at the same time. Sensitivity is not a thing you get in time. The dull can never become the sensitive; the dull is always the dull. Stupidity can never become intelligent. The attempt to become intelligent is stupid. That is one of our difficulties, is it not? We are always trying to become something - and dullness remains. "Then what is one to do?" Do nothing but be what you are, insensitive. To do is to avoid what is, and the avoidance of what is is the grossest form of stupidity. Whatever it does, stupidity is still stupidity. The insensitive cannot become the sensitive; all it can do is to be aware of what it is, to let the story of what it is unfold. Do not interfere with insensitivity, for that which interferes is the insensitive, the stupid. Listen, and it will tell you its story; do not translate or act, but listen without interruption or interpretation right to the end of the story. Then only will there be action. The doing is not important, but the listening is. To give, there must be the inexhaustible. The withholding that gives is the fear of ending, and only in ending is there the inexhaustible. Giving is not ending. Giving is from the much or the little; and the much or the little is the limited, the smoke, the giving and taking. The smoke is desire as jealousy, anger, disappointment; the smoke is the fear of time; the smoke is memory, experience. There is no giving, but only extending the smoke. Withholding is inevitable, for there is nothing to give. Sharing is not giving; the consciousness of sharing or giving puts an end to communion. The smoke is not the flame but we mistake it for the flame. Be aware of the smoke, that which is without blowing away the smoke to see the flame. "Is it possible to have that flame, or is it only for the few?" Whether it is for the few or the many is not the point, is it? If we pursue that path it can only lead to ignorance and illusion. Our concern is with the flame. Can you have that flame, that flame without smoke? Find out; observe the smoke silently and patiently. You cannot dispel the smoke, for you are the smoke. As the smoke goes, the flame will come. This flame is inexhaustible. Everything has a beginning and an ending, it is soon exhausted, worn out. When the heart is empty of the things of the mind, and the mind is empty of thought, then is there Love. That which is empty is inexhaustible. The battle is not between the flame and the smoke, but between the different responses within the smoke. The flame and the smoke can never be in conflict with each other. To be in conflict, they must be in relationship; and how can there be relationship between them? The one is when the other is not. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 65 'OCCUPATION OF THE MIND' IT WAS A narrow street, fairly crowded, but without too much traffic. When a bus or a car passed, one had to go to the very edge, almost into the gutter. There were a few very small shops, and a small temple without doors. This temple was exceptionally clean, and the local people were there, though not in large numbers. At the side of one of the shops a boy was sitting on the ground making garlands and small bouquets of flowers; he must have been twelve or fourteen. The thread was in a small jar of water, and in front of him, spread in little heaps on a damp cloth, were jasmine, a few roses, marigold and other flowers. With the string in one hand he would pick up with the other an assortment of flowers, and with a quick, deft twist of the string they would be tied and a bouquet would be made. He was paying hardly any attention to what his hands were doing; his eyes would wander over to the passing people, smile in recognition of someone, come back to his hands, and wander off again. presently he was joined by another boy, and they began talking and laughing, but his hands never left off their task. By now there was quite a pile of tied flowers, but it was a little too early to sell them. The boy stopped, got up and went off, but soon returned with another boy smaller than himself, perhaps his brother. Then he resumed his pleasant work with the same ease and rapidity. Now people were coming to buy, one by one or in groups. They must have been his regular customers, for there were smiles, and a few words were exchanged. From then on he never moved from his place for over an hour. There was the fragrance of many flowers, and we smiled at each other. The road led to a path, and the path to the house. How we are bound to the past! But we are not bound to the past: we are the past. And what a complicated thing the past is, layer upon layer of undigested memories, both cherished and sorrowful. It pursues us day and night, and occasionally there is a breakthrough, revealing a clear light. The past is like a shadow, making things dull and weary; in that shadow, the present loses its clarity, its freshness, and tomorrow is the continuation of the shadow. The past, the present and the future are tied together by the long string of memory; the whole bundle is memory, with little fragrance. Thought moves through the present to the future and back again; like a restless animal tied to a post, it moves within its own radius, narrow or wide, but it is never free of its own shadow. This movement is the occupation of the mind with the past, the present and the future. The mind is the occupation. If the mind is not occupied, it ceases to exist; its very occupation is its existence. The occupation with insult and flattery, with God and drink, with virtue and passion, with work and expression, with storing up and giving, is all the same; it is still occupation, worry, restlessness. To be occupied with something, whether with furniture or God, is a state of pettiness, shallowness. Occupation gives,to the mind a feeling of activity, of being alive. That is why the mind stores up, or renounces; it sustains itself with occupation. The mind must be busy with something. What it is busy with is of little importance; the important thing is that it be occupied, and the better occupations have social significance. To be occupied with something is the nature of the mind, and its activity springs from this. To be occupied with God, with the State, with knowledge, is the activity of a petty mind. Occupation with something implies limitation, and the God of the mind is a petty god, however high it may place him. Without occupation, the mind is not; and the fear of not being makes the mind restless and active. This restless activity has the appearance of life, but it is not life; it leads always to death - a death which is the same activity in another form. The dream is another occupation of the mind, a symbol of its restlessness. Dreaming is the continuation of the conscious state, the extension of what is not active during the waking hours. The activity of both the upper and the deeper mind is occupational. Such a mind can be aware of an end only as a continued beginning; it can never be aware of ending, but only of a result, and result is ever continuous. The search for a result is the search for continuity. The mind, the occupation, has no ending; and only to that which ends can there be the new, only to that which dies can there be life. The death of occupation, of the mind, is the beginning of silence, of total silence. There is no relationship between this imponderable silence and the activity of the mind. To have relationship, there must be contact, communion; but there is no contact between silence and the mind. The mind cannot commune with silence; it can have contact only with its own self-projected state which it calls silence. But this silence is not silence, it is merely another form of occupation. Occupation is not silence. There is silence only with the death of the mind's occupation with silence. Silence is beyond the dream, beyond the occupation of the deeper mind. The deeper mind is a residue, the residue of the past, open or hidden. This residual past cannot experience silence; it can dream about it, as it often does, but the dream is not the real. The dream is often taken for the real, but the dream and the dreamer are the occupation of the mind. The mind is a total process, and not an exclusive part. The total process of activity, residual and acquiring, cannot commune with that silence which is inexhaustible. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 66 'CESSATION OF THOUGHT' HE WAS A scholar, well versed in the ancient literature, and made a practice of quoting from the ancients to top off his own thoughts. One wondered if he really had any thoughts independent of the books. Of course, there is no independent thought; all thought is dependent, conditioned. Thought is the verbalization of influences. To think is to be dependent; thought can never be free. But he was concerned with learning; he was burdened with knowledge and carried it highly. He began right away talking in Sanskrit, and was very surprised and even somewhat shocked to find that Sanskrit was not at all understood. He could hardly believe it. "What you say at the various meetings shows that you have either read extensively in Sanskrit, or have studied the translations of some of the great teachers," he said. When he found it was not so, and that there had not been any reading of religious, philosophical I or psychological books, he was openly incredulous. It is odd what importance we give to the printed word, to so-called sacred books. The scholars, as the laymen, are gramophones; they go on repeating, however often the records may be changed. They are concerned with knowledge, and not with experiencing. Knowledge is an impediment to experiencing. But knowledge is a safe haven, the preserve of a few; and as the ignorant are impressed by knowledge, the knower is respected and honoured. Knowledge is an addiction, as drink; knowledge does not bring understanding. Knowledge can be taught, but not wisdom; there must be freedom from knowledge for the coming of wisdom. Knowledge is not the coin for the purchase of wisdom; but the man who has entered the refuge of knowledge does not venture out, for the word feeds his thought and he is gratified with thinking. Thinking is an impediment to experiencing; and there is no wisdom without experiencing. Knowledge, idea, belief, stand in the way of wisdom. An occupied mind is not free, spontaneous, and only in spontaneity can there be discovery. An occupied mind is self-enclosing; it is unapproachable, not vulnerable, and therein lies its security. Thought, by its very structure, is self-isolating; it cannot be made vulnerable. Thought cannot be spontaneous, it can never be free. Thought is the continuation of the past, and that which continues cannot be free. There is freedom only in ending. An occupied mind creates what it is working on. It can turn out the bullock cart or the jet plane. We can think we are stupid, and we are stupid. We can think we are God, and we are our own conception: "I am That." "But surely it is better to be occupied with the things of God than with the things of the world, is it not?" What we think, we are; but it is the understanding of the process of thought that is important, and not what we think about. Whether we think about God, or about drink, is not important; each has its particular effect, but in both cases thought is occupied with its own self-projection. Ideas, ideals, goals, and so on, are all the projections or extensions of thought. To be occupied with one's own projections, at whatever level, is to worship the self. The Self with a capital "S" is still a projection of thought. Whatever thought is occupied with, that it is; and what it is, is nothing else but thought. So it is important to understand the thought process. Thought is response to challenge, is it not? Without challenge, there is no thought. The process of challenge and response is experience; and experience verbalized is thought. Experience is not only of the past, but also of the past in conjunction with the present; it is the conscious as well as the hidden. This residue of experience is memory, influence; and the response of memory, of the past is thought. "But is that all there is to thought? Are there not greater depths to thought than the mere response of memory?" Thought can and does place itself at different levels, the stupid and the profound, the noble and the base; but it is still thought, is it not? The God of thought is still of the mind, of the word. The thought of God is not God, it is merely the response of memory. Memory is long-lasting, and so may appear to be deep; but by its very structure it can never be deep. Memory may be concealed, not in immediate view, but that does not make it profound. Thought can never be profound, or anything more than what it is. Thought can give to itself greater value, but it remains thought. When the mind is occupied with its own self-projection, it has not gone beyond thought, it has only assumed a new role, a new pose; under the cloak it is still thought. "But how can one go beyond thought?" That is not the point, is it? One cannot go beyond thought, for the "one," the maker of effort, is the result of thought. In uncovering the thought process, which is self-knowledge, the truth of what is puts an end to the thought process. The truth of what is is not to be found in any book, ancient or modern. What is found is the word, but not truth. "Then how is one to find truth?" One cannot find it. The effort to find truth brings about a self-projected end; and that end is not truth. A result is not truth; result is the continuation of thought, extended or projected. Only when thought ends is there truth. There is no ending of thought through compulsion, through discipline, through any form of resistance. Listening to the story of what is brings its own liberation. It is truth that liberates, not the effort to be free. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 67 'DESIRE AND CONFLICT' IT WAS A pleasant group; most of them were eager, and there were a few who listened to refute. Listening is an art not easily come by, but in it there is beauty and great understanding. We listen with the various depths of our being, but our listening is always with a preconception or from a particular point of view. We do not listen simply; there is always the intervening screen of our own thoughts, conclusions and prejudices. We listen with pleasure or resistance, with grasping or rejection, but there is no listening. To listen there must be an inward quietness, a freedom from the strain of acquiring, a relaxed attention. This alert yet passive state is able to hear what is beyond the verbal conclusion. Words confuse, they are only the outward means of communication; but to commune beyond the noise of words, there must be in listening an alert passivity. Those who love may listen; but it is extremely rare to find a listener. Most of us are after results, achieving goals, we are forever overcoming and conquering, and so there is no listening. It is only in listening that one hears the song of the words. "Is it possible to be free of all desire? Without desire, is there life? Is not desire life itself? To seek to be free of desire is to invite death, is it not?" What is desire? When are we aware of it? When do we say we desire? Desire is not an abstraction, it exists only in relationship. Desire arises in conflict, in relationship. Without contact, there is no desire. Contact may be at any level, but without it there is no sensation, no response, no desire. We know the process of desire, the way it comes into being: perception, contact, sensation, desire. But when are we aware of desire? When do I say I have a desire? Only when there is the disturbance of pleasure or of pain. It is when there is an awareness of conflict, of disturbance, that there is the cognizance of desire. Desire is the inadequate response to challenge. The perception of a beautiful car gives rise to the disturbance of pleasure. This disturbance is the consciousness of desire; The focusing of disturbance, caused by pain or by pleasure, is self-consciousness. Self-consciousness is desire. We are conscious when there is the disturbance of inadequate response to challenge. Conflict is self-consciousness. Can there be freedom from this disturbance, from the conflict of desire? "Do you mean freedom from the conflict of desire, or from desire itself?" Are conflict and desire two separate states? If they are, our inquiry must lead to illusion. If there were no disturbance of pleasure or pain, of wanting, seeking, fulfilling, either negatively or positively, would there be desire? And do we want to get rid of disturbance? If we can understand this, then we may be able to grasp the significance of desire. Conflict is self-consciousness; the focusing of attention through disturbance is desire. Is it that you want to get rid of the conflicting element is desire, and keep the pleasurable element? Both pleasure and conflict are disturbing, are they not? Or do you think pleasure does not disturb? "Pleasure is not disturbing." Is that true? Have you never noticed the pain of pleasure? Is not the craving for pleasure ever on the increase, ever demanding more and more? Is not the craving for more as disturbing as the urgency of avoidance? Both bring about conflict. We want to keep the pleasurable desire, and avoid the painful; but if we look closely, both are disturbing. But do you want to be free from disturbance? "If we have no desire we will die; if we have no conflict we will go to sleep." Are you speaking from experience, or have you merely an idea about it? We are imagining what it would be like to have no conflict and so are preventing the experiencing of whatever that state is in which all conflict has ceased. Our problem is, what causes conflict? Can we not see a beautiful or an ugly thing without conflict coming into being? Can we not observe, listen without self-consciousness? Can we not live without disturbance? Can we not be without desire? Surely, we must understand the disturbance, and not seek a way of overcoming or exalting desire. Conflict must be understood, not ennobled or suppressed. What causes conflict? Conflict arises when the response is not adequate to the challenge; and this conflict is the focusing of consciousness as the self. The self, the consciousness focused through conflict, is experience. Experience is response to a stimulus or challenge; without terming or naming, there is no experience. Naming is out of the storehouse, memory; and this naming is the process of verbalizing, the making of symbols, images, words, which strengthens memory. Consciousness, the focusing of the self through conflict, is the total process of experience, of naming, of recording. "In this process, what is it that gives rise to conflict? Can we be free from conflict? And what is beyond conflict?" It is naming that gives rise to conflict, is it not? You approach the challenge, at whatever level, with a record, with an idea, with a conclusion, with prejudice; that is, you name the experience. This terming gives quality to experience, the quality arising out of naming. Naming is the recording of memory. The past meets the new; challenge is met by memory, the past. The responses of the past cannot understand the living, the new, the challenge; the responses of the past are inadequate, and from this arises conflict, which is self-consciousness. Conflict ceases when there is no process of naming. You can watch in yourself how the naming is almost simultaneous with the response. The interval between response and naming is experiencing. Experiencing, in which there is neither the experiencer nor the experienced, is beyond conflict. Conflict is the focusing of the self, and with the cessation of conflict there is the ending of all thought and the beginning of the inexhaustible. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 68 'ACTION WITHOUT PURPOSE' HE BELONGED TO various and widely different organizations, and was active in them all. He wrote and talked, collected money, organized. He was aggressive, insistent and effective. He was a very useful person, much in demand, and was forever going up and down the land. He had been through the political agitations, had gone to prison, followed the leaders, and now he was becoming an important person in his own right. He was all for the immediate carrying out of great schemes; and like all these educated people, he was versed in philosophy. He said he was a man of action, and not a contemplative; he used a Sanskrit phrase which was intended to convey a whole philosophy of action. The very assertion that he was a man of action implied that he was one of the essential elements of life - perhaps not he personally, but the type. He had classified himself and thereby blocked the understanding of himself. Labels seem to give satisfaction. We kept the category to which we are supposed to belong as a satisfying explanation of life. We are worshippers of words and labels; we never seem to go beyond the symbol, to comprehend the worth of the symbol. By calling ourselves this or that, we ensure ourselves against further disturbance, and settle back. One of the curses of ideologies and organized beliefs is the comfort, the deadly gratification they offer. They put us to sleep, and in the sleep we dream, and the dream becomes action. How easily we are distracted! And most of us want to be distracted; most of us are tired out with incessant conflict, and distractions become a necessity, they become more important than what is. We can play with distractions, but not with what is; distractions are illusions, and there is a perverse delight in them. What is action? What is the process of action? Why do we act? Mere activity is not action, surely; to keep busy is not action, is it? The housewife is busy, and would you call that action? "No, of course not. She is only concerned with everyday, petty affairs. A man of action is occupied with larger problems and responsibilities. Occupation with wider and deeper issues may be called action, not only political but spiritual. It demands capacity, efficiency, organized efforts a sustained drive towards a purpose. Such a man is not a contemplative, a mystic, a hermit, he is a man of action." Occupation with wider issues you would call action. What are wider issues? Are they separate from everyday existence? Is action apart from the total process of life? Is there action when there is no integration of all the many layers of existence? Without understanding and so integrating the total process of life, is not action mere destructive activity? Man is a total process, and action must be the outcome of this totality. "But that would imply not only inaction, but indefinite postponement. There is an urgency of action, and it is no good philosophizing about it." We are not philosophizing, but only wondering if your so-called action is not doing infinite harm. Reform always needs further reform. Partial action is no action at all, it brings about disintegration. If you will have the patience, we can find now, not in the future, that action which is total, integrated. Can purposive action be called action? To have a purpose, an ideal, and work towards it - is that action? When action is for a result, is it action? "How else can you act?" You call action that which has a result, an end in view, do you not? You plan the end, or you have an idea, a belief, and work towards it. Working towards an object, an end, a goal, factual or psychological, is what is generally called action. This process can be understood in relation to some physical fact, such as building a bridge; but is it as easily understood with regard to psychological purposes? Surely, we are talking of the psychological purpose, the ideology, the ideal, or the belief towards which you are working. Would you call action this working towards a psychological purpose? "Action without a purpose is no action at all, it is death. Inaction is death." Inaction is not the opposite of action, it is quite a different state, but for the moment that is irrelevant; we may discuss that later, but let us come back to our point. Working towards an end, an ideal, is generally called action, is it not? But how does the ideal come into being?, Is it entirely different from what is). Is antithesis different and apart from thesis? Is the ideal of non-violence wholly other than violence? Is not the ideal self-projected? Is it not homemade? In acting towards a purpose, an ideal, you are pursuing a self-projection, are you not? "Is the ideal a self-projection?" You are this, and you want to become that. Surely, that is the outcome of your thought. It may not be the outcome of your own thought, but it is born of thought, is it not? Thought projects the ideal; the ideal is part of thought. The ideal is not something beyond thought; it is thought itself. "What's wrong with thought? Why shouldn't thought create the ideal?" You are this, which does not satisfy, so you want to be that. If there were an understanding of this, would that come into being? Because you do not understand this, you create that, hoping through that to understand or to escape from this. Thought creates the ideal as well as the problem; the ideal is a self-projection, and your working towards that self-projection is what you call action, action with a purpose. So your action is within the limits of your own projection, whether God or the State. This movement within your own bounds is the activity of the dog chasing its tail; and is that action? "But is it possible to act without a purpose?" Of course it is. If you see the truth of action with a purpose, then there is just action. Such action is the only effective action, it is the only radical revolution. "You mean action without the self, don't you?" Yes, action without the idea. The idea is the self identified with God or with the State. Such identified action only creates more conflict, more confusion and misery. But it is hard for the man of so-called action to put aside the idea. Without the ideology he feels lost, and he is; so he is not a man of action, but a man caught in his own self-projections whose activities are the glorification of himself. His activities contribute to separation, to disintegration. "Then what is one to do?" Understand what your activity is, and only then is there action. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 69 'CAUSE AND EFFECT' "I KNOW YOU HAVE healed," he said, "and will you not heal my son? He is nearly blind. I have seen a few doctors, and they can do nothing. They advise me to take him to Europe or America, but I am not a rich man and I cannot afford it. Will you not please do something? He is our only child, and my wife is heart-stricken." He was a petty official, poor but educated, and like all of his group he knew Sanskrit and its literature. He kept on saying that it was the boy's karma that he should suffer, and theirs too. What had they done to deserve this punishment? What evil had they committed, in a previous life or in the earlier part of this one, to have to bear such pain? There must be a cause for this calamity, hidden in some past action. There may be an immediate cause for this blindness which the physicians have not yet discovered; some inherited disease may have brought it about. If the doctors cannot discover the physical cause, why do you seek a metaphysical one in the distant past? "By seeking the cause I may be better able to understand the effect." Do you understand anything by knowing its cause? By knowing why one is afraid, is one free of fear? One may know the cause, but does that in itself bring understanding? When you say that you will understand the effect by knowing the cause, you mean that you will take comfort in knowing how this thing has come about, do you not? "Of course, that is why I want to know what action in the past has produced this blindness. It will certainly be most comforting." Then you want comfort and not understanding. "But are they not the same thing? To understand is to find comfort. What is the good of understanding if there is no joy in it?" Understanding a fact may cause disturbance, it does not necessarily bring joy. You want comfort, and that is what you are seeking. You are disturbed by the fact of your son's ailment, and you want to be pacified. This pacification you call understanding. You start out, not to understand, but to be comforted; your intention is to find a way to quiet your disturbance, and this you call the search for the cause. Your chief concern is to be put to sleep, to be undisturbed, and you are seeking a way to do it. We put ourselves to sleep through various ways: God, rituals, ideals, drink, and so on. We want to escape from disturbance, and one of the escapes is this search for the cause. "Why shouldn't one seek freedom from disturbance? Why shouldn't one avoid suffering?" Through avoidance is there freedom from suffering? You may shut the door on some ugly thing, on some fear; but it is still there behind the door, is it not? What is suppressed, resisted, is not understood, is it? You may suppress or discipline your child, but surely that does not yield the understanding of him. You are seeking the cause in order to avoid the pain of disturbance; with that intention you look, and naturally you will find what you are seeking. There is a possibility of being free of suffering only when one observes its process, when one is aware of every phase of it, cognizant of its whole structure. To avoid suffering is only to strengthen it. The explanation of the cause is not the understanding of the cause. Through explanation you are not freed from suffering; the suffering is still there, only you have covered it over with words, with conclusions, either your own or those of another. The study of explanations is not the study of wisdom; when explanations cease, then only is wisdom possible. You are anxiously seeking explanations which will put you to sleep, and you find them; but explanation is not truth. Truth comes when there is observation without conclusions, without explanations, without words. The observer is built out of words, the self is made up of explanations, conclusions, condemnations, justifications, and so on. There is communion with the observed only when the observer is not; and only then is there understanding, freedom from the problem. "I think I see this; but is there not such a thing as karma?" What do you mean by that word? "Present circumstances are the result of previous actions, immediately past or long removed. This process of cause and effect, with all its ramifications, is more or less what is meant by karma." That is only an explanation, but let us go beyond the words. Is there a fixed cause producing a fixed effect? When cause and effect are fixed, is there not death? Anything static, rigid, specialized, must die. The specialized animals soon come to an end, do they not? Man is the unspecialized, and so there is a possibility of his continued existence. That which is pliable endures; that which is not pliable is broken. The acorn cannot become anything but an oak tree; the cause and the effect are in the acorn. But man is not so completely enclosed, specialized; hence, if he does not destroy himself through various ways, he can survive. Are cause and effect fixed, stationary? When you use the word "and" between cause and effect, does it not imply that both are stationary? But is cause ever stationary? Is effect always unchangeable? Surely, cause-effect is a continuous process, is it not? Today is the result of yesterday, and tomorrow is the result of today; what was cause becomes effect, and what was effect becomes cause. It is a chain-process, is it not? One thing flows into another, and at no point is there a halt. It is a constant movement, with no fixation. There are many factors that bring about this cause-effect-cause movement. Explanations, conclusions, are stationary, whether they are of the right or of the left, or of the organized belief called religion. When you try to cover the living with explanations, there is death to the living, and that is what most of us desire; we want to be put to sleep by word, by idea, by thought. Rationalization is merely another way to quiet the disturbed state; but the very desire to be put to sleep, to find the cause, to seek conclusions, brings disturbance, and so thought is caught in a net of its own making. Thought cannot be free nor can it ever make itself free. Thought is the result of experience, and experience is always conditioning. Experience is not the measure of truth. Awareness of the false as the false is the freedom of truth. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 70 'DULLNESS' WHEN THE TRAIN started there was still light, but the shadows were lengthening. The town wound itself around the railway line. People came out to watch the train go by, and passengers waved to their friends. With a great roar we began to cross the bridge over a broad, curving river; it was several miles wide at this point, and the other shore was just visible in the fast-fading light. The train crossed the bridge very slowly, as though it were picking its way along; the spans were numbered, and there were fifty-eight of them between the two shores. How beautiful were those waters, silent, rich and deeply flowing ! There were islands of sand that looked pleasantly cool in the distance. The town, with its noise, dust and squalor, was being left behind, and the clean evening air was coming in through the windows; but there would be dust again as soon as we left the long bridge. The man in the lower berth was very talkative, and as we had a whole night before us, he felt he had a right to ask questions. He was a heavy-built man with large hands and feet. He began by talking about himself, his life, his troubles and his children. He was saying that India should become as prosperous as America; this overpopulation must be controlled, and the people must be made to feel their responsibility. He talked of the political situation and the war, and ended with an account of his own travels. How insensitive we are, how lacking in swift and adequate response, how little free to observe! Without sensitivity, how can there be pliability and a quickening perception; how can there be receptivity, an understanding free of striving? The very striving prevents understanding. Understanding comes with high sensitivity, but sensitivity is not a thing to be cultivated. That which is cultivated is a pose, an artificial veneer; and this coating is not sensitivity, it is a mannerism, shallow or deep according to influence. Sensitivity is not a cultural effect, the result of influence; it is a state of being vulnerable, open. The open is the implicit, the unknown, the imponderable. But we take care not to be sensitive; it is too painful, too exacting, it demands constant adjustment, which is consideration. To consider is to be watchful; but we would rather be comforted, put to sleep, made dull. The newspapers, the magazines, the books, through our addiction to reading, leave their dulling imprint; for reading is a marvellous escape, like drink or a ceremony. We want to escape from the pain of life, and dullness is the most effective way: the dullness brought about by explanations, by following a leader or an ideal, by being identified with some achievement, some label or characteristic. Most of us want to be made dull, and habit is very effective in putting the mind to sleep. The habit of discipline, of practice, of sustained effort to become -there are respectable ways of being made insensitive. "But what could one do in life if one were sensitive? We would all shrivel up, and there would be no effective action." What do the dull and insensitive bring to the world? What is the outcome of their "effective" action? Wars, confusion within and without, ruthlessness and increasing misery for themselves and so for the world. The action of the unwatchful inevitably leads to destruction, to physical insecurity, to disintegration. But sensitivity is not easy to come by; sensitivity is the understanding of the simple, which is highly complex. It is not a withdrawal, a shrivelling up, an isolating process. To act with sensitivity is to be aware of the total process of the actor. "To understand the total process of myself will take a long time, and meanwhile my business will go to ruin and my family will starve." Your family will not starve; even if you have not saved up enough money, it is always possible to arrange that they shall be fed. Your business will undoubtedly go to ruin; but disintegration at other levels of existence is already taking place. You are only concerned with the outward break-up, you do not want to see or know what is happening within yourself. You disregard the inner and hope to build up the outer; yet the inner is always overcoming the outer. The outer cannot act without the fullness of the inner; but the fullness of the inner is not the repetitious sensation of organized religion nor the accumulation of facts called knowledge. The way of all these inner pursuits must be understood for the outer to survive, to be healthy. Do not say that you have no time, for you have plenty of time; it is not a matter of lack of time, but of disregard and disinclination. You have no inward richness, for you want the gratification of inner riches as you already have that of the outer. You are not seeking the wherewithal to feed your family, but the satisfaction of possessing. The man who possesses, whether property or knowledge, can never be sensitive, he can never be vulnerable or open. To possess is to be made dull, whether the possession is virtue or coins. To possess a person is to be unaware of that person; to seek and to possess reality is to deny it. When you try to become virtuous, you are no longer virtuous; your seeking virtue is only the attainment of gratification at a different level. Gratification is not virtue, but virtue is freedom. How can the dull, the respectable, the unvirtuous be free? The freedom of aloneness is not the enclosing process of isolation. To be isolated in wealth or in poverty, in knowledge or in success, in idea or in virtue, is to be dull, insensitive. The dull, the respectable cannot commune; and when they do,it is with their own self-projections. To commune there must be sensitivity, vulnerability, the freedom from becoming, which is freedom from fear. Love is not a becoming, a state of "I shall be". That which is becoming cannot commune, for it is ever isolating itself. Love is the vulnerable; love is the open, the imponderable, the unknown. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 71 'CLARITY IN ACTION' IT WAS A lovely morning, pure after the rains. There were tender new leaves on the trees, and the breeze from the sea had set them dancing. The grass was green and lush, and the cattle were hungrily eating it up, for after a few months there would not be a blade of it left. The fragrance of the garden filled the room, and children were shouting and laughing. The palm trees had golden coco-nuts, and the banana leaves, large and swaying, were not yet torn by age and wind. How beautiful the earth was, and what a poem of colour! Fast the village, beyond the big houses and the groves, was the sea, full of light and with thunderous waves. Far out there was a small boat, a few logs tied together, with a solitary man fishing. She was quite young, in her twenties, and recently married, but the passing years were already leaving their mark upon her. She said she was of good family, cultured and hard working; she had taken her M.A. with honours, and one could see that she was bright and alert. Once started, she spoke easily and fluently, but she would suddenly become self-conscious and silent. She wanted to unburden herself, for she said she had not talked to anyone about her problem, not even to her parents. Gradually, bit by bit, her sorrow was put into words. Words convey meaning only at a certain level; they have a way of distorting, of not giving fully the significance of their symbol, of creating a deception that is entirely unintentional. She wanted to convey much more than merely what the words meant, and she succeeded; she could not speak of certain things, however hard she tried, but her very silence conveyed those pains and unbearable indignities of a relationship that had become merely a contract. She had been struck and left alone by her husband, and her young children were hardly companions. What was she to do? They were now living apart, and should she go back? What a strong hold respectability has on us ! What will they say? Can one live alone, especially a woman, without their saying nasty things? Respectability is a cloak for the hypocrite; we commit every possible crime in thought, but outwardly we are irreproachable. She was courting respectability, and was confused. It is strange how, when one is clear within oneself, whatever may happen is right. When there is this inward clarity, the right is not according to one's desire, but whatever is is right. Contentment comes with the understanding of what is. But how difficult it is to be clear! "How am I to be clear about what I should do?" Action does not follow clarity: clarity is action. You are concerned with what you should do, and not with being clear. You are torn between respectability and what you should do, between the hope and what is. The dual desire for respectability and for some ideal action brings conflict and confusion, and only when you are capable of looking at what is, is there clarity. What is is not what should be, which is desire distorted to a particular pattern; what is is the actual, not the desirable but the fact. Probably you have never approached it this way; you have thought or cunningly calculated, weighing this against that, planning and counter-planning, which has obviously led to this confusion which makes you ask what you are to do. Whatever choice you may make in the state of confusion can only lead to further confusion. See this very simply and directly; if you do, then you will be able to observe what is without distortion. The implicit is its own action. If what is is clear, then you will see that there is no choice but only action, and the question of what you should do will never arise; such a question arises only when there is the uncertainty of choice. Action is not of choice; the action of choice is the action of confusion. "I am beginning to see what you mean: I must be clear in myself, without the persuasion of respectability, without self-interested calculation, without the spirit of bargaining. I am clear, but it is difficult to maintain clarity, is it not?" Not at all. To maintain is to resist. You are not maintaining clarity and opposing confusion: you are experiencing what is confusion, and you see that any action arising from it must inevitably be still more confusing. When you experience all this, not because another has said it but because you see it directly for yourself, then the clarity of what is is there; you do not maintain clarity, it is there. "I quite see what you mean. Yes, I am clear; it is all right. But what of love? We don't know what love means. I thought I loved, but I see I do not." From what you have told me, you married out of fear of loneliness and through physical urges and necessities; and you have found that all this is not love. You may have called it love to make it respectable, but actually it was a matter of convenience under the cloak of the word "love". To most people, this is love, with all its confusing smoke: the fear of insecurity, of loneliness, of frustration, of neglect in old age, and so on. But all this is merely a thought process, which is obviously not love. Thought makes for repetition, and repetition makes relationship stale. Thought is a wasteful process, it does not renew itself, it can only continue; and what has continuity cannot be the new, the fresh. Thought is sensation, thought is sensuous, thought is the sexual problem. Thought cannot end itself in order to be creative; thought cannot become something other than it is, which is sensation. Thought is always the stale, the past, the old; thought can never be new. As you have seen, love is not thought. Love is when the thinker is not. The thinker is not an entity different from thought; thought and the thinker are one. The thinker is the thought. Love is not sensation; it is a flame without smoke. You will know love when you as the thinker are not. You cannot sacrifice yourself, the thinker, for love. There can be no deliberate action for love, because love is not of the mind. The discipline, the will to love, is the thought of love; and the thought of love is sensation, Thought cannot think about love, for love is beyond the reaches of the mind. Thought is continuous, and love is inexhaustible. That which is inexhaustible is ever new, and that which has continuance is ever in the fear of ending. That which ends knows the eternal beginning of love. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 72 'IDEOLOGY' "ALL THIS TALK about psychology, the inner workings of the mind, is a waste of time; people want work and food. Are you not deliberately misleading your audiences when it is obvious that the economic situation must first be attacked? What you say may ultimately be effective, but what is the good of all this stuff when people are starving? You can't think or do anything without having a full stomach." One must of course have something in the stomach to be able to carry on; but to have food for all, there must be a fundamental revolution in the ways of our thinking, and hence the importance of attacking the psychological front. To you, an ideology is far more important than the production of food. You may talk about feeding the poor and of having consideration for them, but are you not much more concerned with an idea, with an ideology? "Yes, we are; but an ideology is only a means of gathering people together for collective action. Without an idea there can be no collective action; the idea, the plan comes first, and then action follows." So you also are concerned with psychological factors first, and from that what you call action will follow. You do not mean, then, that to talk of psychological factors is deliberately to mislead the people. What you mean is that you have the only rational ideology, so why bother to consider further? You want to act collectively for your ideology, and that is why you say any further consideration of the psychological process is not only a waste of time but also a deviation from the main issue, which is the setting up of a classless society with work for all, and so on. "Our ideology is the result of wide historical study, it is history interpreted according to facts; it is a factual ideology, not like the superstitious beliefs of religion. Our ideology has direct experience behind it, not mere visions and illusions." The ideologies or dogmas of organized religions are also based on experience, perhaps that of the one who has given out the teachings. They also are founded on historical facts. Your ideology may be the outcome of study, of comparison, of accepting certain facts and denying others, and your conclusions may be the product of experience; but why reject the ideologies of others as being illusory when they also are the result of experience? You gather a group around your ideology, as do others around theirs; you want collective action, and so do they in a different way. In each case, what you call collective action springs from an idea; you are both concerned with ideas, positive or negative, to bring about collective action. Each ideology has experience behind it, only you refute the validity of their experience, and they refute the validity of yours. They say that your system is impractical, will lead to slavery, and so on, and you call them warmongers and say that their system must inevitably lead to economic disaster. So both of you are concerned with ideologies, not with feeding people or bringing about their happiness. The two ideologies are at war and man is forgotten. "Man is forgotten to save man. We sacrifice the present man to save the future man." You liquidate the present for the future. You assume the power of Providence in the name of the State as the Church has done in the name of God. You both have your gods and your holy book; you both have the true interpreters, the priests - and woe to anyone who deviates from the true and the authentic ! There is not much difference between you, you are both very similar; your ideologies may vary, but the process is more or less the same. You both want to save the future man by sacrificing the present man - as though you knew all about the future, as though the future were a fixed thing and you had the monopoly of it! Yet you are both as uncertain of tomorrow as any other. There are so many imponderable facts in the present that make the future. You both promise a reward, a Utopia, a heaven in the future; but the future is not an ideological conclusion. Ideas are always concerned with the past or the future, but never with the present. You cannot have an idea about the present, for the present is action, the only action there is. All other action is delay, postponement, and so no action at all; it is an avoidance of action. Action based on an idea, either of the past or of the future, is inaction; action can only be in the present, in the now. Idea is of the past or of the future, and there can be no idea of the present. To an ideologist the past or the future is a fixed state, for he himself is of the past or of the future. An ideologist is never in the present; to him, life is always in the past or in the future, but never in the now. Idea is ever of the past, threading its way through the present to the future. For an ideologist the present is a passage to the future and so not important; the means do not matter at all, but only the end. Use any means to get to the end. The end is fixed, the future is known, therefore liquidate anyone who stands in the way of the end. "Experience is essential for action, and ideas or explanations come from experience. Surely you do not deny experience. Action without the framework of idea is anarchical, it is chaos, leading straight to the asylum. Are you advocating action without the cohesive power of idea? How can you do anything without the idea first?" As you say, the idea, the explanation, the conclusion, is the outcome of experience; without experience there can be no knowledge; without knowledge there can be no action. Does idea follow action, or is there idea first and then action? You say experience comes first, and then action, is that it? What do you mean by experience? "Experience is the knowledge of a teacher, of a writer, of a revolutionary, the knowledge which he has gathered from his studies and from experiences, either his own or those of another. From knowledge or experience ideas are constructed, and from this ideological structure flows action." Is experience the only criterion, the true standard of measurement? What do we mean by experience? Our talking together is an experience; you are responding to stimuli, and this response to challenge is experience, is it not? Challenge and response are almost a simultaneous process; they are a constant movement within the framework of a background. It is the background that responds to challenge, and this responding to challenge is experience, is it not? The response is from the background, from a conditioning. Experience is always conditioned, and so then is idea. Action based on idea is conditioned, limited action. Experience, idea, in opposition to another experience, idea, does not produce synthesis but only further opposition. Opposites can never produce a synthesis. An integration can take place only when there is no opposition; but ideas always breed opposition, the conflict of the opposites. Under no circumstances can conflict bring about a synthesis. Experience is the response of the background to challenge. The background is the influence of the past, and the past is memory. The response of memory is idea. An ideology built out of memory, called experience, knowledge, can never be revolutionary. It may call itself revolutionary, but it is only a modified continuity of the past. An opposite ideology or doctrine is still idea, and idea must ever be of the past. No ideology is the ideology; but if you said that your ideology is limited, prejudiced, conditioned, like any other, no one would follow you. You must say it is the only ideology that can save the world; and as most of us are addicted to formulas, to conclusions, we follow and are thoroughly exploited, as the exploiter is also exploited. Action based on an idea can never be a freeing action, but is always binding. Action towards an end, a goal, is in the long run inaction; in the short view it may assume the role of action, but such action is self-destructive, which is obvious in our daily life. "But can one ever be free from all conditioning? We believe it is not possible." Again, the idea, the belief imprisons you. You believe, another does not believe; you are both prisoners to your belief, you both experience according to your conditioning. One can find out if it is possible to be free only by inquiring into the whole process of conditioning, of influence. The understanding of this process is self-knowledge. Through self-knowledge alone is there freedom from bondage, and this freedom is devoid of all belief, all ideology. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 73 'BEAUTY' THE VILLAGE WAS dirty, but there was tidiness around each hut. The front steps were washed and decorated daily, and inside the hut was clean though somewhat smoky from the cooking. The whole family was there, father, mother and children, and the old lady must have been the grandmother. They all seemed so cheerful and strangely contented. Verbal communication was impossible, as we did not know their language. We sat down, and there was no embarrassment. They went on with their work, but the children came near, a boy and a girl, and sat down, smiling. The evening meal was nearly ready, and there was not too much of it. As we left, they all came out and watched; the sun was over the river, behind a vast, solitary cloud. The cloud was on fire and made the waters glow like remembered forest fires. The long rows of huts were divided by a wide-ish path, and on each side of the path were open, filthy gutters where every imaginable horror was being bred. One could see white worms struggling in the black slime. Children were playing on the path, completely absorbed in their games, laughing and shouting, indifferent to every passer-by. Along the embankment of the river, palms stood out against the burning sky. Pigs, goats and cattle were wandering about the huts, and the children would push a goat or a withered cow out of the way. The village was settling down for the coming darkness, and the children too were becoming quiet as their mothers called them. The large house had a lovely garden with high, white walls all around it. The garden was full of colour and bloom, and a great deal of money and care must have gone into it. It was extraordinarily peaceful in that garden; everything was flourishing, and the beauty of the large tree seemed to protect all the other things that were growing. The fountain must have been a delight to the many birds, but how it was quietly singing to itself, undisturbed and alone. Everything was enclosing itself for the night. She was a dancer, not by profession but by choice. She was considered by some to be a fairly good dancer. She must have felt proud of her art, for there was arrogance about her, not only the arrogance of achievement but also that of some inner recognition of her own spiritual worth. As another would be satisfied with outward success, she was gratified by her spiritual advancement. The advance of the spirit is a self-imposed deception, but it is very gratifying. She had jewels on, and her nails were red; her lips were painted the appropriate colour. She not only danced, but also gave talks on art, on beauty, and on spiritual achievement. Vanity and ambition were on her face; she wanted to be known both spiritually and as an artist, and now the spirit was gaining. She said she had no personal problems, but wanted to talk about beauty and the spirit. She did not care about personal problems, which were stupid anyhow, but was concerned with wider issues. What was beauty? Was it inner or outer? Was it subjective or objective, or a combination of both? She was so sure of her ground, and surety is the denial of the beautiful. To be certain is to be self-enclosed and invulnerable. Without being open, how can there be sensitivity? "What is beauty?" Are you waiting for a definition, for a formula, or do you desire to inquire? "But must one not have the instrument for inquiry? Without knowing, without explanations, how can one inquire? We must know where we are going before we can go." Does not knowledge prevent inquiry? When you know, how can there be inquiry? Does not the very word "knowing" indicate a state in which inquiry has ceased? To know is not to inquire; so you are merely a asking for a conclusion, a definition. Is there a measure for beauty? Is beauty the approximation to a known or an imaginary pattern? Is beauty an abstraction without a frame? Is beauty exclusive, and can the exclusive be the integrated? Can the outer be beautiful without inner freedom? Is beauty decoration, adornment? Is the outward show of beauty an indication of sensitivity? What is it that you are seeking? A combination of the outer and the inner? How can there be outer beauty without the inner? On which do you lay emphasis "I lay emphasis on both; without the perfect form, how can there be perfect life? Beauty is the combination of the outer and the inner." So you have a formula for becoming beautiful. The formula is not beauty, but only a series of words. Being beautiful is not the process of becoming beautiful. What is it that you are seeking? "The beauty of both form and spirit. There must be a lovely vase for the perfect flower." Can there be inner harmony, and so perhaps outer harmony, without sensitivity? Is not sensitivity essential for perception either of the ugly or the beautiful? Is beauty the avoidance of the ugly? "Of course it is." Is virtue avoidance, resistance? If there is resistance, can there be sensitivity? Must there not be freedom for sensitivity? Can the self-enclosed be sensitive? Can the ambitious be sensitive, aware of beauty? Sensitivity, vulnerability to what is, is essential, is it not? We want to identify ourselves with what we call the beautiful and avoid what we call the ugly. We want to be identified with the lovely garden and shut our eyes to the smelly village. We want to resist and yet receive. Is not all identification resistance? To be aware of the village and the garden without resistance, without comparison, is to be sensitive. You want to be sensitive only to beauty, to virtue, and resist evil, the ugly. Sensitivity, vulnerability is a total process, it cannot be cut off at a particular gratifying level. "But I am seeking beauty, sensitivity." Is that really so? If it is, then all concern about beauty must cease. This consideration, this worship of beauty is an escape from what is, from yourself, is it not? How can you be sensitive if you are unaware of what you are, of what is? The ambitious, the crafty, the pursuers of beauty, are only worshipping their own self-projections. They are wholly self-enclosed, they have built a wall around themselves; and as nothing can live in isolation, there is misery. This search for beauty and the incessant talk of art are respectable and highly regarded escapes from life, which is oneself. "But music is not an escape." It is when it replaces the understanding of oneself. Without the understanding of oneself, all activity leads to confusion and pain. There is sensitivity only when there is the freedom which understanding brings - the understanding of the ways of the self, of thought. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 74 'INTEGRATION' THE LITTLE PUPPIES were plump and clean, and were playing in the warm sand. There were six of them, all white and light brown. The mother was lying a little away from them in the shade. She was thin and worn out, and so mangy that she had hardly a hair on her. There were several wounds on her body, but she wagged her tail and was so proud of those round puppies. She probably would not survive for more than a month or so. She was one of those dogs that prowl about, picking up what they can from the filthy streets or around a poor village, always hungry and always on the run. Human beings threw stones at her, chased her from their door, and they were to be avoided. But here in the shade the memories of yesterday were distant, and she was exhausted; Besides, the puppies were being petted and talked to. It was late afternoon; the breeze from across the wide river was fresh and cooling, and for the moment there was contentment. Where she would get her next meal was another matter, but why struggle now ? Past the village, along the embankment, beyond the green fields and then down a dusty and noisy road, was the house in which people were waiting a to talk over. They were of every type: the thoughtful and the eager, the lazy and the argumentative, the quick-witted and those who lived according to definitions and conclusions. The thoughtful were patient, and the quick-witted were sharp with those who dragged; but the slow had to come with the fast. Understanding comes in flashes, and there must be intervals of silence for the flashes to take place; but the quick are too impatient to allow space for these flashes. Understanding is not verbal, nor is there such a thing as intellectual understanding. Intellectual understanding is only on the verbal level, and so no understanding at all. Understanding does not come as a result of thought, for thought after all is verbal. There is no thought without memory, and memory is the word, the symbol, the process of image-making. At this level there is no understanding. Understanding comes in the space between two words, in that interval before the word shapes thought. Understanding is neither for the quick-witted nor for the slow, but for those who are aware of this measureless space. "What is disintegration? We see the rapid disintegration of human relationship in the world, but more so in ourselves. How can this falling apart be stopped? How can we integrate?" There is integration if we can be watchful of the ways of disintegration. Integration is not on one or two levels of our existence, it is the coming together of the whole. Before that can be, we must find out what we mean by disintegration, must we not? Is conflict an indication of disintegration? We are not seeking a definition, but the significance behind that word. "Is not struggle inevitable? All existence is struggle; without struggle there would be decay. If I did not struggle towards a goal I would degenerate. To struggle if as essential as breathing." A categorical statement stops all inquiry. We are trying to find out what are the factors of disintegration, and perhaps conflict, struggle, is one of them. What do we mean by conflict, struggle? "Competition, striving, making an effort, the will to achieve, discontent, and so on." Struggle is not only at one level of existence, but at all levels. The process of becoming is struggle, conflict, is it not? The clerk becoming the manager, the vicar becoming the bishop, the pupil becoming the Master - this psychological becoming is effort, conflict. "Can we do without this process of becoming? Is it not a necessity? How can one be free of conflict? Is there not fear behind this effort?" We are trying to find out, to experience, not merely at the verbal level, but deeply, what makes for disintegration, and not how to be free of conflict or what lies behind it. Living and becoming are two different states, are they not? Existence may entail effort; but we are considering the process of becoming, the psychological urge to be better, to become something, the struggle to change what is into its opposite. This psychological becoming may be the factor that makes everyday living painful, competitive, a vast conflict. What do we mean by becoming? The psychological becoming of the priest who wants to be the bishop, of the disciple who wants to be the Master, and so on. In this process of becoming there is effort, positive or negative; it is the struggle to change what is into something else, is it not? I am this, and I want to become that, and this becoming is a series of conflicts. When I have become that, there is still another that, and so on endlessly. The this becoming that is without end, and so conflict is without end. Now, why do I want to become something other than what I am? "Because of our conditioning, because of social influences, because of our ideals. We cannot help it, it is our nature." Merely to say that we cannot help it puts an end to discussion. It is a sluggish mind that makes this assertion and just puts up with suffering, which is stupidity. Why are we so conditioned? Who conditions us? Since we submit to being conditioned, we ourselves make those conditions. Is it the ideal that makes us struggle to become that when we are this? Is it the goal, the Utopia, that makes for conflict? Would we degenerate if we did not struggle towards an end? "Of course. We would stagnate, go from bad to worse. It is easy to fall into hell but difficult to climb to heaven." Again we have ideas, opinions about what would happen, but we do not directly experience the happening. Ideas prevent understanding, as do conclusions and explanations. Do ideas and ideals make us struggle to achieve, to become? I am this, and does the ideal make me struggle to become that? Is the ideal the cause of conflict? Is the ideal wholly dissimilar from what is? If it is completely different, if it has no relationship with what is, then what is cannot become the ideal. To become, there must be relationship between what is and the ideal, the goal. You say the ideal is giving us the impetus to struggle, so let us find out how the ideal comes into being. Is not the ideal a projection of the mind? "I want to be like you. Is that a projection?" Of course it is. The mind has an idea, perhaps pleasurable, and it wants to be like that idea, which is a projection of your desire. You are this, which you do not like, and you want to become that, which you like. The ideal is a self-projection; the opposite is an extension of what is; it is not the opposite at all, but a continuity of what is, perhaps somewhat modified. The projection is self-willed, and conflict is the struggle towards the projection. What is projects itself as the ideal and struggles towards it, and this struggle is called becoming. The conflict between the opposites is considered necessary, essential. This conflict is the what is trying to become what it is not; and what it is not is the ideal, the self-projection. You are struggling to become something, and that something is part of yourself. The ideal is your own projection. See how the mind has played a trick upon itself. You are struggling after words, pursuing your own projection, your own shadow. You are violent, and you are struggling to become non-violent, the ideal; but the ideal is a projection of what is, only under a different name. This struggle is considered necessary, spiritual, evolutionary, and so on; but it is wholly within the cage of the mind and only leads to illusion. When you are aware of this trick which you have played upon yourself, then the false as the false is seen. The struggle towards an illusion is the disintegrating factor. All conflict, all becoming is disintegration. When there is an awareness of this trick that the mind has played upon itself, then there is only what is. When the mind is stripped of all becoming, of all ideals, of all comparison and condemnation, when its own structure has collapsed, then the what is has undergone complete transformation. As long as there is the naming of what is there is relationship between the mind and what is; but when this naming process - which is memory, the very structure of the mind - is not, then what is is not. In this transformation alone is there integration. Integration is not the action of will, it is not the process of becoming integrated. When disintegration is not, when there is no conflict, no struggle to become, only then is there the being of the whole, the complete. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 75 'FEAR AND ESCAPE' WE WERE STEADILY climbing, without any perceptible movement. Below us was a vast sea of clouds, white and dazzling, wave upon wave as far as the eye could see. They looked so astonishingly solid and inviting. Occasionally, as we climbed higher in a wide circle there were breaks in this brilliant foam, and far below was the green earth. Above us was the clear blue sky of winter, soft and immeasurable. A massive range of snowcovered mountains stretched from north to south, sparkling in the brilliant sun. These mountains reached an elevation of over fourteen thousand feet, but we had risen above them and were still climbing. They were a familiar range of peaks, and they looked so near and serene. The higher peaks lay to the north, and we shot off to the south, having reached the required altitude of twenty thousand feet. The passenger in the next seat was very talkative. He was unfamiliar with those mountains, and had dozed as we climbed; but now he was awake and eager for a talk. It appeared that he was going out on some business for the first time; he seemed to have many interests, and spoke with considerable information about them. The sea was now below us, dark and distant, and a few ships were dotted here and there. There was not a tremor of the wings, and we passed one lighted town after another along the coast. He was saying how difficult it was not to have fear, not particularly of a crash, but of all the accidents of life. He was married and had children, and there was always fear - not of the future alone, but of everything in general. It was a fear that had no particular object, and though he was successful, this fear made his life weary and painful. He had always been rather apprehensive, but now it had become extremely persistent and his dreams were of a frightening nature. His wife knew of his fear, but she was not aware of its seriousness. Fear can exist only in relation to something. As an abstraction, fear is a mere word, and the word is not the actual fear. Do you know specifically of what you are afraid? "I have never been able to lay my finger on it, and my dreams too are very vague; but threading through them all there is fear. I have talked to friends and doctors about it, but they have either laughed it off or otherwise not been of much help. It has always eluded me, and I want to be free of the beastly thing." Do you really want to be free, or is that just a phrase? "I may sound casual, but I would give a great deal to be rid of this fear. I am not a particularly religious person, but strangely enough I have prayed to have it taken away from me. When I am interested in my work, or in a game, it is often absent; but like some monster it is ever waiting, and soon we are companions again." Have you that fear now? Are you aware now that it is somewhere about? Is the fear conscious or hidden ? "I can sense it, but I do not know whether it is conscious or unconscious." Do you sense it as something far away or near - not in space or distance, but as a feeling? "When I am aware of it, it seems to be quite close. But what has that got to do with it?" Fear can come into being only in relation to something. That something may be your family, your work, your preoccupation with the future, with death. Are you afraid of death? "Not particularly, though I would like to have a quick death and not a long-drawn-out one. I don't think it is my family that I have this anxiety about, nor is it my job." Then it must be something deeper than the superficial relationships that is causing this fear. One may be able to point out what it is, but if you can discover it for yourself it will have far greater significance. Why are you not afraid of the superficial relationships? "My wife and I love each other; she wouldn't think of looking at another man, and I am not attracted to other women. We find completeness in each other. The children are an anxiety, and what one can do, one does; but with all this economic mess in the world, one cannot give them financial security, and they will have to do the best they can. My job is fairly secure, but there is the natural fear of anything happening to my wife." So you are sure of your deeper relationship. Why are you so certain? "I don't know, but I am. One has to take some things for granted, hasn't one?" That's not the point. Shall we go into it? What makes you so sure of your intimate relationship? When you say that you and your wife find completeness in each other, what do you mean? "We find happiness in each other: companionship, understanding, and so on. In the deeper sense, we depend on each other. It would be a tremendous blow if anything happened to either of us. We are in that sense dependent." What do you mean by "dependent"? You mean that without her you would be lost, you would feel utterly alone, is that it? She would feel the same; so you are mutually dependent. "But what is wrong with that?" We are not condemning or judging, but only inquiring. Are you sure you want to go into all this? You are quite sure? All right, then let's go on. Without your wife, you would be alone, you would be lost in the deepest sense; so she is essential to you, is she not? You depend on her for your happiness, and this dependence is called love. You are afraid to be alone. She is always there to cover up the fact of your loneliness, as you cover up hers; but the fact is still there, is it not? We use each other to cover up this loneliness; we run away from it in so many ways, in so many different forms of relationship, and each such relationship becomes a dependence. I listen to the radio because music makes me happy, it takes me away from myself; books and knowledge are also a very convenient escape from myself. And on all these things we depend. "Why should I not escape from myself? I have nothing to be proud of, and by being identified with my wife, who is much better than I am, I get away from myself." Of course, the vast majority escape from themselves. But by escaping from yourself, you have become dependent. Dependence grows stronger, escapes more essential, in proportion to the fear of what is. The wife, the book, the radio, become extraordinarily important; escapes come to be all-significant, of the greatest value. I use my wife as a means of running away from myself, so I am attached to her. I must possess her, I must not lose her; and she likes to be possessed, for she is also using me. There is a common need to escape, and mutually we use each other. This usage is called love. You do not like what you are, and so you run away from yourself, from what is. "That is fairly clear. I see something in that, it makes sense. But why does one run away? What is one escaping from?" From your own loneliness, your own emptiness, from what you are. If you run away without seeing what is, you obviously cannot understand it; so first you have to stop running, escaping and only then can you watch yourself as you are. But you cannot observe what is if you are always criticizing it, if you like or dislike it. You call it loneliness and run away from it; and the very running away from what is is fear. You are afraid of this loneliness, of this emptiness, and dependence is the covering of it. So fear is constant; it is constant as long as you are running away from what is. To be completely identified with something, with a person or an idea, is not a guarantee of final escape, for this fear is always in the background. It comes through dreams, when there is a break in identification; and there is always a break in identification, unless one is unbalanced. "Then my fear arises from my own hollowness, my insufficiency. I see that all right, and it is true; but what am I to do about it?" You cannot do anything about it. Whatever you do is an activity of escape. That is the most essential thing to realize. Then you will see that you are not different or separate from that hollowness. You are that insufficiency. The observer is the observed emptiness. Then if you proceed further, there is no longer calling it loneliness; the terming of it has ceased. If you proceed still further, which is rather arduous, the thing known as loneliness is not; there is a complete cessation of loneliness, emptiness, of the thinker as the thought. This alone puts an end to fear. "Then what is love?" Love is not identification; it is not thought about the loved. You do not think about love when it is there; you think about it only when it is absent, when there is distance between you and the object of your love. When there is direct communion, there is no thought, no image, no revival of memory; it is when the communion breaks, at any level, that the process of thought, of imagination, begins. Love is not of the mind. The mind makes the smoke of envy, of holding, of missing, of recalling the past, of longing for tomorrow, of sorrow and worry; and this effectively smothers the flame. When the smoke is not, the flame is. The two cannot exist together; the thought that they exist together is merely a wish. A wish is a projection of thought, and thought is not love. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 76 'EXPLOITATION AND ACTIVITY' IT WAS EARLY in the morning and the cheerful birds were making an awful lot of noise. The sun was just touching the tree tops, and in the deep shade there were still no patches of light A snake must recently have crossed the lawn, for there was a long, narrow clearing of the dew. The sky had not yet lost its colour, and great white clouds were gathering. Suddenly the noise of the birds stopped, then increased with warning, scolding cries as a cat came and lay down under a bush. A big hawk had caught a white-and-black bird, and was tearing at it with its sharp, curving beak. It held its prey with eager ferocity, and became threatening as two or three crows came near. The hawk's eyes were yellow with narrow black slits and they were watching the crows and us without blinking. "Why shouldn't I be exploited? I don't mind being used for the cause, which has great significance, and I want to be completely identified with it. What they do with me is of little importance. You see, I am of no account. I can't do much in this world, and so I am helping those who can. But I have a problem of personal attachment which distracts me from the work. It is this attachment I want to understand." But why should you be exploited? Are you not as important as the individual or the group that is exploiting you? "I don't mind being exploited for the cause, which I consider has great beauty and worth in the world. Those with whom I work are spiritual people with high ideals, and they know better than I do what should be done." Why do you think they are more capable of doing good than you are? How do you know they are "spiritual," to use your own word, and have wider vision? After all, when you offered your services, you must have considered this matter; or were you attracted, emotionally stirred, and so gave yourself to the work? "It is a beautiful cause, and I offered my services because I felt that I must help it." You are like those men who join the army to kill or to be killed for a noble cause. Do they know what they are doing? Do you know what you are doing? How do you know that the cause you are serving is "spiritual"? "Of course you are right. I was in the army for four years during the last war; I joined it, like many other men, out of a feeling of patriotism. I don't think I considered then the significance of killing; it was the thing to do, we just joined. But the people I am helping now are spiritual." Do you know what it means to be spiritual? For one thing, to be ambitious is obviously not spiritual. And are they not ambitious? "I am afraid they are. I had never thought about these things, I only wanted to help something beautiful." Is it beautiful to be ambitious and cover it up with a lot of high-sounding words about Masters, humanity, art, brotherhood? Is it spiritual to be burdened with self-centredness which is extended to include the neighbour and the man across the waters? You are helping those who are supposed to be spiritual, not knowing what it is all about and willing to be exploited. "Yes, it is quite immature, isn't it? I don't want to be disturbed in what I am doing, and yet I have a problem; and what you are saying is even more disturbing." Shouldn't you be disturbed? After all, it is only when we are disturbed, awakened, that we begin to observe and find out. We are exploited because of our own stupidity, which the clever ones use in the name of the country, of God, of some ideology. How can stupidity do good in the world even though the crafty make use of it? When the cunning exploit stupidity, they also are stupid, for they too do not know where their activities are leading. The action of the stupid, of those who are unaware of the ways of their own thought, leads inevitably to conflict confusion and misery. Your problem may not necessarily be a distraction. Since it is there, how can it be? "It is disturbing my dedicated work." Your dedication is not complete since you have a problem which you find distracting. Your dedication may be a thoughtless action, and the problem may be an indication, a warning not to get caught up in your present activities "But I like what I am doing." And that may be the whole trouble. We want to get lost in some form of activity; the more satisfying the activity, the more we cling to it. The desire to be gratified makes us stupid, and gratification at all levels is the same; there is no higher and lower gratification. Though we may consciously or unconsciously disguise our gratification in noble words, the very desire to be gratified makes us dull, insensitive. We get satisfaction, comfort psychological security through some kind of activity; and gaining it, or imagining that we have gained it, we do not desire to be disturbed. But there is always disturbance - unless we are dead, or understand the whole process of conflict, struggle. Most of us want to be dead, to be insensitive, for living is painful; and against that pain we build walls of resistance, the walls of conditioning. These seemingly protecting walls only breed further conflict and misery. Is it not important to understand the problem rather than to find a way out of it? Your problem may be the real, and your work may be an escape without much significance. "This is all very disturbing, and I shall have to think about it very carefully." It was getting warm under the trees and we left. But how can a shallow mind ever do good? Is not the doing of "good" the indication of a shallow mind? Is not the mind, however cunning, subtle, learned, always shallow? The shallow mind can never become the unfathomable; the very becoming is the way of shallowness. Becoming is the pursuit of the self-projected. The projection may be verbally of the highest, it may be an extensive vision, scheme or plan; yet it is ever the child of the shallow. Do what it will, the shallow can never become the deep; any action on its part, any movement of the mind at any level, is still of the shallow. It is very hard for the shallow mind to see that its activities are vain, useless. It is the shallow mind that is active, and this very activity keeps it in that state. Its activity is its own conditioning. The conditioning, conscious or hidden, is the desire to be free from conflict, from struggle, and this desire builds walls against the movement of life, against unknown breezes; and within these walls of conclusions, beliefs, explanations, ideologies, the mind stagnates. Only the shallow stagnate, die. The very desire to take shelter through conditioning breeds more strife, more problems; for conditioning is separating, and the separate, the isolated cannot live. The separate, by joining itself to other separates, does not become the whole. The separate is always the isolated, though it may accumulate and gather, expand, include and identify. Conditioning is destructive, disintegrating; but the shallow mind cannot see the truth of this, for it is active in search of truth. This very activity hinders the receiving of truth. Truth is action, not the activity of the shallow, of the seeker, of the ambitious. Truth is the good, the beautiful, not the activity of the dancer, of the planner, of the spinner of words. It is truth that liberates the shallow, not his scheme to be free. The shallow, the mind can never make itself free; it can only move from one conditioning to another, thinking the other is more free. The more is never free, it is conditioning, an extension of the less. The movement of becoming, of the man who wants to become the Buddha or the manager, is the activity of the shallow. The shallow are ever afraid of what they are; but what they are is the truth. Truth is in the silent observation of what is, and it is truth that transforms what is. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 77 'THE LEARNED OR THE WISE?' THE RAINS HAD washed away the dust and heat of many months, and the leaves were sparklingly clean, with new leaves beginning to show. All through the night the frogs filled the air with their deep croaking; they would take a rest, and start again. The river was swift-flowing, and there was softness in the air. The rains were not over by any means. Dark clouds were gathering, and the sun was hidden. The earth, the trees and the whole of Nature seemed to be waiting for another purification. The road was dark brown, and the children were playing in the puddles; they were making mud-pies, or building castles and houses with surrounding walls. There was joy in the air after months of heat, and green grass was beginning to cover the earth. Everything was renewing itself. This renewal is innocence. The man considered himself vastly learned, and to him knowledge was the very essence of life. Life without knowledge was worse than death. His knowledge was not about one or two things, but covered a great many phases of life; he could talk with assurance about the atom and Communism, about astronomy and the yearly flow of water in the river, about diet and overpopulation. He was strangely proud of his knowledge and, like a clever showman, he brought it to impress; it made the others silent and respectful. How frightened we are of knowledge, what awesome respect we show to the knower! His English was sometimes rather difficult to understand. He had never been outside of his own country, but he had books from other countries. He was addicted to knowledge as another might be to drink or to some other appetite. "What is wisdom, if it is not knowledge? Why do you say that one must suppress all knowledge? Is not knowledge essential? Without knowledge, where would we be? We would still be as the primitives, knowing nothing of the extraordinary world we live in. Without knowledge, existence at any level would be impossible. Why are you so insistent in saying that knowledge is an impediment to understanding?" Knowledge is conditioning. Knowledge does not give freedom. One may know how to build an airplane and fly to the other end of the world in a few hours, but this is not freedom. Knowledge is not the creative factor, for knowledge is continuous, and that which has continuity can never lead to the implicit, the imponderable, the unknown. Knowledge is a hindrance to the open, to the unknown. The unknown can never be clothed in the known; the known is always moving to the past; the past is ever overshadowing the present, the unknown. Without freedom, without the open mind, there can be no understanding. Understanding does not come with knowledge. In the interval between words, between thoughts, comes understanding; this interval is silence unbroken by knowledge, it is the open, the imponderable, the implicit. "Is not knowledge useful, essential? Without knowledge, how can there be discovery?" Discovery takes place, not when the mind is crowded with knowledge, but when knowledge is absent; only then is there stillness and space, and in this state understanding or discovery comes into being. Knowledge is undoubtedly useful at one level, but at another it is positively harmful. When knowledge is used as a means of self-aggrandizement, to puff oneself up, then it is mischievous, breeding separation and enmity. Self-expansion is disintegration, whether in the name of God, of the State, or of an ideology. Knowledge at one level, though conditioning, is necessary: language, technique, and so on. This conditioning is a safeguard, an essential for outer living; but when this conditioning is used psychologically, when knowledge becomes a means of psychological comfort, gratification, then it inevitably breeds conflict and confusion. Besides, what do we mean by knowing? What actually do you know? "I know about a great many things." You mean you have lots of information, data about many things. You have gathered certain facts; and then what? Does information about the disaster of war prevent wars? You have, I am sure, plenty of data about the effects of anger and violence within oneself and in society; but has this information put an end to hate and antagonism? `Knowledge about the effects of war may not put an immediate end to wars, but it will eventually bring about peace. People must be educated, they must be shown the effects of war, of conflict." People are yourself and another. You have this vast information, and are you any less ambitious, less violent, less self-centred? Because you have studied revolutions, the history of inequality, are you free from feeling superior, giving importance to yourself? Because you have extensive knowledge of the world's miseries and disasters, do you love? Besides, what is it that we know, of what have we knowledge? "Knowledge is experience accumulated through the ages. In one form it is tradition, and in another it is instinct, both conscious and unconscious. The hidden memories and experiences, whether handed down or acquired, act as a guide and shape our action; these memories, both racial and individual, are essential, because they help and protect man. Would you do away with such knowledge?" Action shaped and guided by fear is no action at all. Action which is the outcome of racial prejudices, fears, hopes, illusions, is conditioned; and all conditioning, as we said, only breeds further conflict and sorrow. You are conditioned as a brahmin in accordance with a tradition which has been going on for centuries; and you respond to stimuli, to social changes and conflicts, as a brahmin. You respond according to your conditioning, according to your past experiences, knowledge, so new experience only conditions further. Experience according to a belief, according to an ideology, is merely the continuation of that belief, the perpetuation of an idea. Such experience only strengthens belief. Idea separates, and your experience according to an idea, a pattern, makes you more separative. Experience as knowledge, as a psychological accumulation, only conditions, and experience is then another way of self-aggrandizement Knowledge as experience at the psychological level is a hindrance to understanding. "Do we experience according to our belief?" That is obvious, is it not? You are conditioned by a particular society - which is yourself at a different level - to believe in God, in social divisions; and another is conditioned to believe that there is no God, to follow quite a different ideology. Both of you will experience according to your beliefs, but such experience is a hindrance to the unknown. Experience, knowledge, which is memory, is useful at certain levels; but experience as a means of strengthening the psychological "me," the ego, only leads to illusion and sorrow. And what can we know if the mind is filled with experiences, memories, knowledge? Can there be experiencing if we know? Does not the known prevent experiencing? You may know the name of that flower, but do you thereby experience the flower? Experiencing comes fist, and the naming only gives strength to the experience. The naming prevents further experiencing. For the state of experiencing, must there not be freedom from naming, from association, from the process of memory? Knowledge is superficial, and can the superficial lead to the deep? Can the mind, which is the result of the known, of the past, ever go above and beyond its own projection? To discover, it must stop projecting. Without its projections, mind is not. Knowledge, the past, can project only that which is the known. The instrument of the known can never be the discoverer. The known must cease for discovery; the experience must cease for experiencing. Knowledge is a hindrance to understanding. "What have we left if we are without knowledge, experience, memory? We are then nothing." Are you anything more than that now? When you say, "Without knowledge we are nothing," you are merely making a verbal assertion without experiencing that state, are you not? When you make that statement there is a sense of fear, the fear of being naked. Without these accretions you are nothing - which is the truth. And why not be that? Why all these pretensions and conceits? We have clothed this nothingness with fancies, with hopes, with various comforting ideas; but beneath these coverings we are nothing, not as some philosophical abstraction, but actually nothing. The experiencing of that nothingness is the beginning of wisdom. How ashamed we are to say we do not know! We cover the fact of not knowing with words and information. Actually, you do not know your wife, your neighbour; how can you when you do not know yourself? You have a lot of information, conclusions, explanations about yourself, but you are not aware of that which is, the implicit. Explanations, conclusions, called knowledge, prevent the experiencing of what is. Without being innocent, how can there be wisdom? Without dying to the past how can there be the renewing of innocence? Dying is from moment to moment; to die is not to accumulate; the experiencer must die to the experience. Without experience, without knowledge, the experiencer is not. To know is to be ignorant; not to know is the beginning of wisdom. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 78 'STILLNESS AND WILL' THERE WAS HARDLY anyone on the long, curving beach. A few fishermen were going back to their village among the tall palms. As they walked they made thread, rolling the cotton on their naked thighs and winding it on the bobbin; it was a very fine thread, and strong. Some of them walked with ease and grace, and others with dragging feet. They were ill-fed, thin, and burnt dark by the sun. A boy passed by singing, with long, cheerful strides; and the sea came rolling in. There was no strong breeze, but it was a heavy sea, with thunderous waves. The moon, almost full was just rising out of the blue-green water, and the breakers were white against the yellow sands. How essentially simple life is, and how we complicate it! Life is complex, but we do not know how to be simple with it. Complexity must be approached simply, otherwise we shall never understand it. We know too much, and that is why life eludes us; and the too much is so little. With that little we meet the immense; and how can we measure the immeasurable? Our vanity dulls us, experience and knowledge bind us, and the waters of life pass us by. To sing with that boy, to drag wearily with those fishermen, to spin thread on one's thigh, to be those villagers and that couple in the car - to be all that, not as a trick of identity, needs love. Love is not complex, but the mind makes it so. We are too much with the mind, and the ways of love we do not know. We know the ways of desire and the will of desire, but we do not know love. Love is the flame without the smoke. We are too familiar with the smoke; it fills our heads and heats, and we see darkly. We are not simple with the beauty of the flame; we torture ourselves with it. We do not live with the flame, following swiftly wherever it may lead. We know too much, which is always little, and we make a path for love. Love eludes us, but we have the empty frame. Those who know that they do not know are the simple; they go far, for they have no burden of knowledge. He was a sannyasi of some repute; he had the saffron robe and the distant look. He was saying that he had renounced the world many years ago and was now approaching the stage when neither this world nor the other world interested him. He had practised many austerities, driven the body hard and fast, and had extraordinary control over his breathing and nervous system. This had given him a great sense of power, though he had not sought it. Is not this power as detrimental to understanding as the power of ambition and vanity? Greed, like fear, breeds the power of action. All sense of power, of domination, gives strength to the self, to the "me" and the "mine; and is not the self a hindrance to reality? "The lower must be suppressed or made to conform to the higher. Conflict between the various desires of the mind and the body must be stilled; in the process of control, the rider tastes power, but power is used to climb higher or go deeper. Power is harmful only when used for oneself, and not when used to clear the way for the supreme. Will is power, it is the directive; when used for personal ends it is destructive, but when used in the right direction it is beneficial. Without will, there can be no action." Every leader uses power as a means to an end, and so does the ordinary man; but the leader says that he is using it for the good of the whole, while the everyday man,is just out for himself. The goal of the dictator, of the man of power, of the leader, is the same as that of the led; they are similar, one is the expansion of the other; and both are self-projections. We condemn one and praise the other; but are not all goals the outcome of one's own prejudices, inclinations, fears and hopes? You use will, effort, power, to make way for the supreme; that supreme is fashioned out of desire, which is will. Will creates its own goal and sacrifices or suppresses everything to that end. The end is itself, only it is called the supreme, or the State, or the ideology. "Can conflict come to an end without the power of will?" Without understanding the ways of conflict and how it comes into being, of what value is it merely to suppress or sublimate conflict, or find a substitute for it? You may be able to suppress a disease, but it is bound to show itself again in another form. Will itself is conflict, it is the outcome of struggle; will is purposive, directed desire. Without comprehending the process of desire, merely to control it is to invite further burning, further pain. Control is evasion. You may control a child or a problem, but you have not thereby understood either. Understanding is of far greater importance than arriving at an end. The action of will is destructive, for action towards an end is self-enclosing, separating, isolating. You cannot silence conflict, desire, for the maker of the effort is himself the product of conflict, of desire. The thinker and his thoughts are the outcome of desire; and without understanding desire, which is the self placed at any level, high or low, the mind is ever caught in ignorance. The way to the supreme does not lie through will, through desire. The supreme can come into being only when the maker of effort is not. It is will that breeds conflict, the desire to become or to make way for the supreme. When the mind which is put together through desire comes to an end, not through effort, then in that stillness, which is not a goal, reality comes into being. "But is not simplicity essential for that stillness?" What do you mean by simplicity? Do you mean identification with simplicity, or being simple? "You cannot be simple without identifying yourself with that which is simple, externally as well as inwardly." You become simple, is that it? You are complex, but you become simple through identification, through identifying yourself with the peasant or with the monk's robe. I am this, and I become that. But does this process of becoming lead to simplicity, or merely to the idea of simplicity? Identification with an idea called the simple is not simplicity, is it? Am I simple because I keep on asserting that I am simple, or keep on identifying myself with the pattern of simplicity? Simplicity lies in the understanding of what is, not in trying to change what is into simplicity. Can you change what is into something it is not? Can greed, whether for God, money or drink, ever become non-greed? What we identify ourselves with is always the self-projected, whether it is the supreme, the State or the family. Identification at any level is the process of the self. Simplicity is the understanding of what is, however complex it may appear. The what is is not difficult to understand, but what prevents understanding is the distraction of comparison, of condemnation, of prejudice, whether negative or positive, and so on. It is these that make for complexity. What is is never complex in itself, it is always simple. What you are is simple to understand, but it is made complex by your approach to it; so there must be an understanding of the whole process of approach, which makes for complexity. If you do not condemn the child, then he is what he is and it is possible to act. The action of condemnation leads to complexity; the action of what is is simplicity. Nothing is essential for stillness but stillness itself; it is its own beginning and its own end. No essential bring it about, for it is. No means can ever lead to stillness. It is only when stillness is something to be gained, achieved, that the means become essential. If stillness is to be bought, then the coin becomes important; but the coin, and that which it purchases, are not stillness. Means are noisy, violent, or subtly acquisitive, and the end is of like nature, for the end is in the means. If the beginning is silence, the end is also silence. There are no means to silence; silence is when noise is not. Noise does not come to an end through the further noise of effort, of discipline, of austerities, of will. See the truth of this, and there is silence. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 79 'AMBITION' THE BABY HAD been crying all night, and the poor mother had been doing her best to quiet him. She sang to him, she scolded him, she petted and rocked him; but it was no good. The baby must have been teething, and it was a weary night for the whole family. But now the dawn was coming over the dark trees, and at last the baby became quiet. There was a peculiar stillness as the sky grew lighter and lighter. The dead branches were clear against the sky, slender and naked; a child called, a dog barked, a lorry rattled by, and another day had begun. Presently the mother came out carrying the baby, carefully wrapped, and walked along the road past the village, where she waited for a bus. Presumably she was taking him to the doctor. She looked so tired and haggard after that sleepless night, but the baby was fast asleep. Soon the sun was over the tree tops, and the dew sparkled on the green grass. Far away a train whistled, and the distant mountains looked cool and shadowy. A large bird flew noisily away, for we had disturbed her brooding. Our approach must have been very sudden, for she hadn't had time to cover her eggs with dry leaves. There were over a dozen of them. Even though uncovered they were hardly visible, she had so cleverly concealed them, and now she was watching from a distant tree. We saw the mother with her brood a few days later, and the nest was empty. It was shady and cool along the path, which led through the damp woods to the distant hilltop, and the wattle was in bloom. It had rained heavily a few days before, and the earth was soft and yielding. There were fields of young potatoes, and far down in the valley was the town. It was a beautiful, golden morning. Beyond the hill the path led back,to the house. She was very clever. She had read all the latest books, had seen the latest plays, and was well informed about some philosophy which had become the latest craze. She had been analysed and had apparently read a great deal of psychology, for she knew the jargon. She made a point of seeing all the important people, and had casually met someone who brought her along. She talked easily and expressed herself with poise and effect. She had been married, but had had no children; and one felt that all that was behind her, and that now she was on a different journey. She must have been rich, for she had about her that peculiar atmosphere of the wealthy. She began right away by asking, "In what way are you helping the world in this present crisis?" It must have been one of her stock questions. She went on to ask, more eagerly, about the prevention of war, the effects of Communism, and the future of man. Are not wars, the increasing disasters and miseries, the outcome of our daily life? Are we not, each one of us, responsible for this crisis? The future is in the present; the future will not be very different if there is no comprehension of the present. But do you not think that each one of us is responsible for this conflict and confusion? "It may be so; but where does this recognition of responsibility lead? What value has my little action in the vast destructive action? In what way is my thought going to affect the general stupidity of man? What is happening in the world is sheer stupidity, and my intelligence is in no way going to affect it. Besides, think of the time it would take for individual action to make any impression on the world." Is the world different from you? Has not the structure of society been built up by people like you and me? To bring about a radical change in the structure, must not you and I fundamentally transform ourselves? How can there be a deep revolution of values if it does not begin with us? To help in the present crisis, must one look for a new ideology, a new economic plan? Or must one begin to understand the conflict and confusion within oneself, which, in its projection, is the World? Can new ideologies bring unity between man and man? Do not beliefs set man against man? Must we not put away our ideological barriers - for all barriers are ideological - and consider our problems, not through the bias of conclusion and formulas, but directly and without prejudice? We are never directly in relationship with our problems, but always through some belief or formulation. We can solve our problems only when we are directly in relationship with them. It is not our problems which set man against man, but our ideas about them. Problems bring us together, but ideas separate us. If one may ask, why are you so apparently concerned about the crisis? "Oh, I don't know. I see so much suffering, so much misery, and I feel something must be done about it." Are you really concerned, or are you merely ambitious to do something? "When you put it that way, I suppose I am ambitious to do something in which I shall succeed." So few of us are honest in our thinking. We want to be successful, either directly for ourselves, or for the ideal, the belief with which we have identified ourselves. The ideal is our own projection, it is the product of our mind, and our mind experiences according to our conditioning. For these self-projections we work, we slave away and die. Nationalism, like the worship of God, is only the glorification of oneself. It is oneself that is important, actually or ideologically, and not the disaster and the misery. We really do not want to do anything about the crisis; it is merely a new topic for the clever, a field for the socially active and for the idealist. Why are we ambitious? "If we were not, nothing would get done in the world. If we were not ambitious we would still be driving about in horsecarriages. Ambition is another name for progress. Without progress, we would decay, wither away." In getting things done in the world, we are also breeding wars and untold miseries. Is ambition progress? For the moment we are not considering progress, but ambition. Why are we ambitious? Why do we want to succeed, to be somebody? Why do we struggle to be superior? Why all this effort to assert oneself, whether directly, or through an ideology or the State? Is not this self-assertion the main cause of our conflict and confu- sion? Without ambition, would we perish? Can we not physically survive without being ambitious ? "Who wants to survive without success, without recognition?" Does not this desire for success, for applause, bring conflict both within and without? Would being free of ambition mean decay? Is it stagnation to have no conflict? We can drug ourselves, put ourselves to sleep with beliefs, with doctrines, and so have no deep conflicts. For most of us, some kind of activity is the drug. Obviously, such a state is one of decay, disintegration. But when we are aware of the false as the false, does it bring death? To be aware that ambition in any form, whether for happiness, for God, or for success, is the beginning of conflict both within and without, surely does not mean the end of all action, the end of life. Why are we ambitious? "I would be bored if I were not occupied in striving to achieve some kind of result. I used to be ambitious for my husband, and I suppose you would say it was for myself through my husband; and now I am ambitious for myself through an idea. I have never thought about ambition, I have just been ambitious." Why are we clever and ambitious? Is not ambition an urge to avoid what is? Is not this cleverness really stupid, which is what we are? Why are we so frightened of what is? What is the good of running away if whatever we are is always there? We may succeed in escaping, but what we are is still there, breeding conflict and misery. Why are we so frightened of our loneliness, of our emptiness? Any activity away from what is is bound to bring sorrow and antagonism. Conflict is the denial of what is or the running away from what is; there is no conflict other than that. Our conflict becomes more and more complex and insoluble because we do not face what is. There is no complexity in what is, but only in the many escapes that we seek. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 80 'SATISFACTION' THE SKY WAS heavy with clouds and the day was warm, though the breeze was playing with the leaves. There was distant thunder, and a sprinkling of rain was laying the dust on the road. The parrots were flying about wildly, screeching their little heads off, and a big eagle was sitting on the topmost branch of a tree, preening itself and watching all the play that was going on down below. A small monkey was sitting on another branch, and the two of them watched each other at a safe distance. Presently a crow joined them. After its morning toilet the eagle remained very still for a while, and then flew off. Except for the human beings, it was a new day; nothing was like yesterday. The trees and the parrots were not the same; the grass and the shrubs had a wholly different quality. The remembrance of yesterday only darkens today, and comparison prevents perception. How lovely were those red and yellow flowers ! Loveliness is not of time. We carry our burdens from day to day, and there is never a day without the shadow of many yesterdays. Our days are one continuous movement, yesterday mingling with today and tomorrow; there is never an ending. We are frightened of ending; but without ending, how can there be the new? Without death, how can there be life? And how little we know of either! We have all the words, the explanations, and they satisfy us. Words distort ending, and there is ending only when the word is not. The ending that is of words we know; but the ending without words, the silence that is not of words, we never know. To know is memory; memory is ever continuous, and desire is the thread that binds day to day. The end of desire is the new. Death is the new, and life as continuance is only memory, an empty thing. With the new, life and death are one. A boy was walking with long strides, singing as he walked. He smiled at all those he passed and seemed to have many friends. He was ill-clad, with a dirty cloth around his head, but he had a shining face and bright eyes. With his rapid strides he passed a fat man wearing a cap. The fat man waddled, head down, worried and anxious. He did not hear the song the boy was singing, nor even glance at the singer. The boy strode on through the big gates; passing the beautiful gardens and crossing the bridge over the river, he rounded a bend towards the sea, where he was joined by some companions, and as darkness gathered they all began to sing together. The lights of a car lit up their faces, and their eyes were deep with unknown pleasures. It was raining heavily now, and everything was dripping wet. He was a doctor not only of medicine but also of psychology. Thin, quiet and self-contained, he had come from across the seas, and had been long enough in this country to be used to the sun and the heavy rains. He had worked, he said, as a doctor and psychologist during the war, and had helped as much as his capacity allowed, but he was dissatisfied with what he had given. He wanted to give much more, to help much more deeply; what he gave was so little, and there was something missing in it all. We sat without a word for a long period while he gathered the pressures of his distress. Silence is an odd thing. Thought does not make for silence, nor does it build it up. Silence cannot be put together, nor does it come with the action of will. Remembrance of silence is not silence. Silence was there in the room with throbbing stillness, and the talk did not disturb if. The talk had meaning in that silence, and silence was the background of the word. Silence gave expression to thought, but the thought was not silence. Thinking was not, but silence was; and silence penetrated, gathered and gave expression. Thinking can never penetrate, and in silence there is communion. The doctor was saying that he was dissatisfied with everything: with his work, with his capacities, with all the ideas he had so carefully cultivated. He had tried the various schools of thought, and was dissatisfied with them all. During the many months since he had arrived here, he had been to various teachers, but had come away with still greater dissatisfaction. He had tried many isms, including cynicism, but dissatisfaction was still there. Is it that you are seeking satisfaction and have not so far found it? Is the desire for satisfaction causing discontent? Searching implies the known. You say you are dissatisfied, and yet you are searching; you are looking for satisfaction, and you have not yet found it. You want satisfaction, which means that you are not dissatisfied. If you were really dissatisfied with everything, you would not be seeking a way out of it. Dissatisfaction which seeks to be satisfied soon finds what it wants in some kind of relationship with possessions, with a person, or with some ism. "I have been through all that yet I am completely dissatisfied." You may be dissatisfied with outward relationships, but perhaps you are seeking some psychological attachment that will give full satisfaction. "I have been through that too, but I am still dissatisfied." I wonder if you really are? If you were wholly discontented, there would be no movement in any particular direction, would there? If you are thoroughly dissatisfied with being in a room, you do not seek a bigger room with nicer furniture; yet this desire to find a better room is what you call dissatisfaction. You are not dissatisfied with all rooms, but only with this particular one, from which you want to escape. Your dissatisfaction arises from not having found complete satisfaction. You are really seeking gratification, so you are constantly on the move, judging, comparing, weighing, denying; and naturally you are dissatisfied. Is this not so? "It looks that way, doesn't it?" So you are really not dissatisfied; it is simply that you have not so far been able to find complete and lasting satisfaction in anything. That is what you want: complete satisfaction, some deep inner contentment that will endure. "But I want to help, and this discontent prevents me from giving myself to it completely." Your goal is to help and to find complete gratification in it. You really do not want to help, but to find satisfaction in helping. You look for gratification in helping, another looks for it in some ism, and yet another in some kind of addiction. You are looking for a completely satisfying drug which for the time being you call helping. In seeking to equip yourself to help, you are equipping yourself to be completely gratified. What you really want is lasting self-gratification. With most of us, discontent finds an easy contentment. Discontent is soon put to sleep; it is soon drugged, made quiet and respectable. Outwardly you may have finished with all isms, but psychologically, deep down, you are seeking something that you can hold on to. You say you have finished with all personal relationship with another. It may be that in personal relationship you have not found lasting gratification, and so you are seeking relationship with an idea, which is always self-projected. In the search for a relationship that will be completely gratifying, for a secure refuge that will weather all storms, do you not lose the very thing that brings contentment? Contentment, perhaps, is an ugly word, but real contentment does not imply stagnation, reconciliation, appeasement, insensitivity. Contentment is the understanding of what is, and what is is never static. A mind that is interpreting, translating what is, is caught in its own prejudice of satisfaction. Interpretation is not understanding. With the understanding of what is comes inexhaustible love, tenderness, humility. Perhaps that is what you are in search of; but that cannot be sought and found. Do what you will, you will never find it. It is there when all search has come to an end. You can search only for that which you already know, which is more gratification. Searching and watching are two different processes; one is binding, and the other brings understanding. Search, having always an end in view, is ever binding; passive watchfulness brings understanding of what is from moment to moment. In the what is from moment to moment there is ever an ending; in search there is continuity. Search can never find the new; only in ending is there the new. The new is the inexhaustible. Love alone is ever renewing. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 81 'WISDOM IS NOT ACCUMULATION OF KNOWLEDGE' THE CABIN WAS high up in the mountains, and to get there one had to cross the wide desert by car, passing through may towns, and through luxuriant orchards and rich farms that had been reclaimed from the desert by irrigation and hard work. One town was especially pleasant with green lawns and big shady trees, for nearby was a river that came down from the distant mountains into the very heart of the desert. Beyond this town, following the cascading river, the road led on towards the snowy peaks. The earth was now rocky, bare and sunburnt, but there were many trees along the river's banks. The road curved in and out, rising higher and higher, and passing through forests of ancient pines with the scent of the sun among them. The air had become cool and fresh, and soon we arrived at the cabin. After a couple of days, when it had got used to us, a red-and-black squirrel would come and sit on the window-sill and somewhat scold us. It wanted nuts. Every visitor must have fed it; but now visitors were few, and it was eager to store up for the coming winter. It was a very active, cheerful squirrel, and it was always ready to gather what it could for the many cold and snowy months ahead. Its home was in the hollow of a tree that must have been dead for many years. It would grab a nut, race across to the huge trunk, climb up it noisily, scolding and threatening, disappear into a hole, and then come down again with such speed that one thought it would fall; but it never did. We spent a morning giving it a whole bag of nuts; it became very friendly and would come right into the room, its fur shining and its large beady eyes sparkling. Its claws were sharp, and its tail very bushy. It was a gay, responsible little animal, and it seemed to own the whole neighbourhood, for it kept off all the other squirrels. He was a pleasant man, and eager for wisdom. He wanted to collect it as that squirrel gathered nuts. Though he was not too well-to-do, he must have travelled a good bit, for he seemed to have met many people in many countries. He had apparently read very extensively also, for he would bring out a phrase or two from some philosopher or saint. He said he could read Greek easily and had a smattering of Sanskrit. He was getting old and was eager to gather wisdom. Can one gather wisdom? "Why not? It is experience that makes a man wise, and knowledge is essential for wisdom." Can a man who has accumulated be wise? "Life is a process of accumulation, the gradual building up of character, a slow unfoldment. Experience, after all, is the storing up of knowledge. Knowledge is essential for all understanding." Does understanding come with knowledge, with experience? Knowledge is the residue of experience, the gathering of the past. Knowledge, consciousness, is always the past; and can the past ever understand? Does not understanding come in those intervals when thought is silent? And can the effort to lengthen or accumulate those silent spaces bring understanding? " Without accumulation, we would not be; there would be no continuity of thought, of action. Accumulation is character, accumulation is virtue. We cannot exist without gathering. If I did not know the structure of that motor, I would be unable to understand it; if I did not know the structure of music, I would be unable to appreciate it deeply. Only the shallow enjoy music. To appreciate music, you must know how it is made, put together. Knowing is accumulation. There is no appreciation without knowing the facts. Accumulation of some kind is necessary for understanding, which is wisdom." To discover, there must be freedom, must there not? If you are bound, weighed down, you cannot go far. How can there be freedom if there is accumulation of any kind? The man who accumulates, whether money or knowledge, can never be free. You may be free from the acquisitiveness of things, but the greed for knowledge is still bondage, it holds you. If a mind that is tethered to any form of acquisition capable of wandering far and discovering? Is virtue accumulation? Can a mind that is accumulating virtue ever be virtuous? Is not virtue the freedom from becoming? Character may be a bondage too. Virtue can never be a bondage, but all accumulation is. "How can there be wisdom without experience?" Wisdom is one thing, and knowledge another. Knowledge is the accumulation of experience; it is the continuation of experience, which is memory. Memory can be cultivated, strengthened, shaped, conditioned; but is wisdom the extension of memory? Is wisdom that which has continuance? We have knowledge, the accumulation of ages; and why are we not wise, happy, creative? Will knowledge make for bliss? Knowing, which is the accumulation of experience, is not experiencing. Knowing prevents experiencing. The accumulation of experience is a continuous process, and each experience strengthens this process; each experience strengthens memory, gives life to it. Without this constant reaction of memory, memory would soon fade away. Thought is memory, the word, the accumulation of experience. Memory is the past, as consciousness is. This whole burden of the past is the mind, is thought. Thought is the accumulated; and how can thought ever be free to discover the new? It must end for the new to be. "I can comprehend this up to a point; but without thought, how can there be understanding ?" Is understanding a process of the past, or is it always in the present? Understanding means action in the present. Have you not noticed that understanding is in the instant, that it is not of time? Do you understand gradually? Understanding is always immediate, now, is it not? Thought is the outcome of the past; it is founded on the past, it is a response of the past. The past is the accumulated, and thought is the response of the accumulation. How, then, can thought ever understand? Is understanding a conscious process? Do you deliberately set out to understand? Do you choose to enjoy the beauty of an evening? "But is not understanding a conscious effort?" What do we mean by consciousness? When are you conscious? Is consciousness not the response to challenge, to stimulus, pleasant or painful? This response to challenge is experience. Experience is naming, terming, association. Without naming, there would be no experience, would there? This whole process of challenge, response, naming, experience, is consciousness, is it not? Consciousness is always a process of the past. Conscious effort, the will to understand, to gather, the will to be, is a continuation of the past, perhaps modified, but still of the past. When we make an effort to be or to become something, that something is the projection of ourselves. When we make a conscious effort to understand, we are hearing the noise of our own accumulations. It is this noise that prevents understanding. `Then what is wisdom?" Wisdom is when knowledge ends. Knowledge has continuity; without continuity there is no knowledge. That which has continuity can never be free, the new. There is freedom only to that which has an ending. Knowledge can never be new, it is always becoming the old. The old is ever absorbing the new and thereby gaining strength. The old must cease for the new to be. "You are saying, in other words, that thought must end for wisdom to be. But how is thought to end?" There is no ending to thought through any kind of discipline, practice, compulsion. The thinker is the thought, and he cannot operate upon himself; when he does, it is only a self-deception. He is thought, he is not separate from thought; he may assume that he is different, pretend to be dissimilar, but that is only the craftiness of thought to give itself permanency. When thought attempts to end thought it only strengthens itself. Do what it will, thought cannot end itself. It is only when the truth of this is seen that thought comes to an end. There is freedom only in seeing the truth of what is, and wisdom is the perception of that truth. The what is is never static, and to be passively watchful of it there must be freedom from all accumulation. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 82 'DISTRACTION' IT WAS A long, wide canal, leading from the river into lands that had no water. The canal was higher than the river, and the water which entered it was controlled by a system of locks. It was peaceful along that canal; heavy-laden barges moved up and down it, and their white triangular sails stood out against the blue sky and the dark palms. It was a lovely evening, calm and free, and the water was very still. The reflections of the palms and of the mango trees were so sharp and clear that it was confusing to distinguish the actual from the reflection. The setting sun made the water transparent, and the glow of evening was on its face. The evening star was beginning to show among the reflections. The water was without a movement, and the few passing villagers, who generally talked so loud and long, were silent. Even the whisper among the leaves had stopped. From the meadow came some animal; it drank, and disappeared as silently as it had come. Silence held the land, it seemed to cover everything. Noise ends, but silence is penetrating and without end. One can shut oneself off from noise, but there is no enclosure against silence; no wall can shut it out, there is no resistance against it. Noise shuts all things out, it is excluding and isolating; silence includes all things within itself. Silence, like love, is indivisible; it has no division of noise and silence. The mind cannot follow it or be made still to receive it. The mind that is made still can only reflect its own images, and they are sharp and clear, noisy in their exclusion. A mind that is made still can only resist, and all resistance is agitation. The mind that is still and not made still is ever experiencing silence; the thought, the word, is then within the silence, and not outside of it. It is strange how, in this silence, the mind is tranquil, with a tranquility that is not formed. As tranquillity is not marketable, has no value, and is not usable, it has a quality of the pure, of the alone. That which can be used is soon worn out. Tranquillity does not begin or end, and a mind thus tranquil is aware of a bliss that is not the reflection of its own desire. She said she had always been agitated by something or other; if it was not the family, it was the neighbour or some social activity. Agitation had filled her life, and she had never been able to find the reason for these constant upheavals. She was not particularly happy; and how could one be with the world as it was? She had had her share of passing happiness, but all that was in the past and now she was hunting for something that would give a meaning to life. She had been through many things which at the time seemed worth while, but which afterwards faded into nothingness. She had been engaged in many social activities of the serious kind; she had ardently believed in the things of religion, had suffered because of death in her family, and had faced a major operation. Life had not been easy with her, she added, and there were millions of others in the world like herself. She wanted to go beyond all this business, whether foolish or necessary and find something that was really worth while. The things that are worth while are not to be found. They cannot be bought, they must happen; and the happening cannot be cunningly planned. Is it not true that anything that has deep significance always happens, it is never brought about? The happening is important, not the finding. The finding is comparatively easy, but the happening is quite another matter. Not that it is difficult; but the urge to seek, to find, must wholly stop for the happening to take place. Finding implies losing; you must have in order to lose. To possess or be possessed is never to be free to understand. But why has there always been this agitation, this restlessness? Have you seriously inquired into it before? "I have attempted it half-heartedly, but never purposely. I have always been distracted." Not distracted, if one may point out; it is simply that this has never been a vital problem to you. When there is a vital problem, then there is no distraction. Distraction does not exist; distraction implies a central interest from which the mind wanders; but if there is a central interest, there is no distraction. The mind's wandering from one thing to another is not distraction, it is an avoidance of what is. We like to wander far away because the problem is very close. The wandering gives us something to do, like worry and gossip; and though the wandering is often painful, we prefer it to what is. Do you seriously wish to go into all this, or are you merely playing around with it? "I really want to go through to the very end of it. That is why I have come." You are unhappy because there is no spring that keeps the well full, is that it? You may once have heard the whisper of water on the pebbles, but now the riverbed is dry. You have known happiness, but it has always receded, it is always a thing of the past. Is that spring the thing you are groping after? And can you seek it, or must you come upon it unexpectedly? If you knew where it was, you would find means to get to it; but not knowing, there is no path to it. To know it is to prevent the happening of it. Is that one of the problems? "That definitely is. Life is so dull and uncreative, and if that thing could happen one wouldn't ask for anything more." Is loneliness a problem? "I don't mind being lonely, I know how to deal with it. I either go out for a walk, or sit quietly with it till it goes. Besides, I like being alone." We all know what it is to be lonely: an aching, fearsome emptiness that cannot be appeased. We also know how to run away from it, for we have all explored the many avenues of escape. Some are caught in one particular avenue, and others keep on exploring; but neither are in direct relationship with what is. You say you know how to deal with loneliness. If one may point out, this very action upon loneliness is your way of avoiding it. You go out for a walk, or sit with loneliness till it goes. You are always operating upon it, you do not allow it to tell its story. You want to dominate it, to get over it, to run away from it; so your relationship with it is that of fear. Is fulfilment also a problem? To fulfil oneself in something implies the avoidance of what one is, does it not? I am puny; but if I identify myself with the country, with the family, or with some belief, I feel fulfilled, complete. This search for completeness is the avoidance of what is. "Yes, that is so; that is also my problem." If we can understand what is, then perhaps all these problems will cease. Our approach to any problem is to avoid it; we want to do something about it. The doing prevents our being in direct relationship with it, and this approach blocks the understanding of the problem. The mind is occupied with finding a way to deal with the problem, which is really an avoidance of it; and so the problem is never understood, it is still there. For the problem, the what is, to unfold and tell its story fully, the mind must be sensitive, quick to follow. If we anaesthetize the mind through escapes, through knowing how to deal with the problem, or through seeking an explanation or a cause for it, which is only a verbal conclusion, then the mind is made dull and cannot swiftly follow the story which the problem, the what is, is unfolding. See the truth of this and the mind is sensitive; and only then can it receive. Any activity of the mind with regard to the problem only makes it dull and so incapable of following, of listening to the problem. When the mind is sensitive - not made sensitive, which is only another way of making it dull - then the what is, the emptiness, has a wholly different significance. Please be experiencing as we go along, do not remain on the verbal level. What is the relationship of the mind to what is? So far, the what is has been given a name, a term, a symbol of association, and this naming prevents direct relationship, which makes the mind dull, insensitive. The mind and what is are not two separate processes, but naming separates them. When this naming ceases, there is a direct relationship: the mind and the what is are one. The what is is now the observer himself without a term, and only then is the what is transformed; it is no longer the thing called emptiness with its associations of fear, and so on. Then the mind is only the state of experiencing, in which the experiencer and the experienced are not. Then there is immeasurable depth, for he who measures is gone. That which is deep is silent, tranquil, and in this tranquillity is the spring of the inexhaustible. The agitation of the mind is the usage of word. When the word is not, the measureless is. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 83 'TIME' HE WAS AN oldish man, but well preserved, with long, grey hair and a white beard. He had lectured about philosophy at universities in different parts of the world. He was very scholarly and quiet. He said he did not meditate; nor was he religious in the ordinary sense. He was concerned with knowledge only; and though he lectured on philosophy and religious experiences, he hadn't any of his own nor was he looking for any. He had come to talk over the question of time. How difficult it is for the man of possessions to be free! It is a great hardship for a rich man to put aside his wealth. Only when there are other and greater inducements will he forgo the comforting realization that he is a rich man; he must find the fulfilment of his ambition at another level before he will let go the one he has. To the rich man, money is power, and he is the wielder of it; he may give away large sums, but he is the giver. Knowledge is another form of possession, and the man of knowledge is satisfied with it; for him it is an end in itself. He has a feeling - at least this one had - that knowledge will somehow solve our problems if only it can be spread, thick or thin, around the world. It is much more difficult for the man of knowledge to be free from his possessions than for the man of wealth. It is strange how easily knowledge takes the place of understanding and wisdom. If we have information about things, we think we understand; we think that knowing or being informed about the cause of a problem will make it non-existent. We search for the cause of our problems, and this very search is the postponement of understanding. Most of us know the cause; the cause of hate is not very deeply hidden, but in looking for the cause we can still enjoy its effects. We are concerned with the reconciliation of effects, and not with the understanding of the total process. Most of us are attached to our problems, without them we would be lost; problems give us something to do, and the activities of the problem fill our lives. We are the problem and its activities. Time is a very strange phenomenon. Space and time are one; the one is not without the other. Time to us is extraordinarily important, and each one gives to it his own particular significance. Time to the savage has hardly any meaning, but to the civilized it is of immense significance. The savage forgets from day to day; but if the educated man did that, he would be put in an asylum or would lose his job. To a scientist, time is one thing; to a layman, it is another. To an historian, time is the study of the past; to a man on the stock market, it is the ticker; to a mother, it is the memory of her son; to an exhausted man, it is rest in the shade. Each one translates it according to his particular needs and satisfactions, shaping it to suit his own cunning mind. Yet we cannot do without time. If we are to live at all, chronological time is as essential as the seasons. But is there psychological time, or is it merely a deceptive convenience of the mind? Surely, there is only chronological time, and all else is deception. There is time to grow and time to die, time to sow and time to reap; but is not psychological time, the process of becoming, utterly false? "What is time to you? Do you think of time? Are you aware of time?" Can one think of time at all except in the chronological sense? We can use time as a means, but in itself it has little meaning, has it not? Time as an abstraction is a mere speculation, and all speculation is vain. We use time as a means of achievement, tangible or psychological. Time is needed to go to the station, but most of us use time as a means to a psychological end, and the ends are many. We are aware of time when there is an impediment to our achievement, or when there is the interval of becoming successful. Time is the space between what is and what might, should, or will be. The beginning going towards the end is time. "Is there no other time? What about the scientific implications of time-space?" There is chronological and there is psychological time. The chronological is necessary, and it is there; but the other is quite a different matter. Cause-effect is said to be a time process, not only physically but also psychologically. It is considered that the interval between cause and effect is time; but is there an interval? The cause and the effect of a disease may be separated by time, which is again chronological; but is there an interval between psychological cause and effect? Is not cause-effect a single process? There is no interval between cause and effect Today is the effect of yesterday and the cause of tomorrow; it is one movement, a continuous flowing. There is no separation, no distinct line between cause and effect; but inwardly we separate them in order to become, to achieve. I am this, and I shall become that. To become that I need time - chronological time used for psychological purposes. I am ignorant, but I shall become wise. Ignorance becoming wise is only progressive ignorance; for ignorance can never become wise, any more than greed can ever become non-greed. Ignorance is the very process of becoming. Is not thought the product of time? Knowledge is the continuation of time. Time is continuation. Experience is knowledge, and time is the continuation of experience as memory. Time as continuation is an abstraction, and speculation is ignorance. Experience is memory, the mind. The mind is the machine of time. The mind is the past. Thought is ever of the past; the past is the continuation of knowledge. Knowledge is ever of the past; knowledge is never out of time, but always in time and of time. This continuation of memory, knowledge, is consciousness. Experience is always in the past; it is the past. This past in conjunction with the present is moving to the future; the future is the past, modified perhaps, but still the past. This whole process is thought, the mind. Thought cannot function in any field other than that of time. Thought may speculate upon the timeless, but it will be its own projection. All speculation is ignorance. "Then why do you even mention the timeless? Can the timeless ever be known? Can it ever be recognized as the timeless?" Recognition implies the experiencer, and the experiencer is always of time. To recognize something, thought must have experienced it; and if it has experienced it, then it is the known. The known is not the timeless, surely. The known is always within the net of time. Thought cannot know the timeless; it is not a further acquisition, a further achievement; there is no going towards it. It is a state of being in which thought, time, is not. "What value has it?" None at all. It is not marketable. It cannot be weighed for a purpose. Its worth is unknown. "But what part does it play in life?" If life is thought, then none at all. We want to gain it as a source of peace and happiness, as a shield against all trouble, or as a means of uniting people. It cannot be used for any purpose. Purpose implies means to an end, and so we are back again with the process of thought. Mind cannot formulate the timeless, shape it to its own end; it cannot be used. Life has meaning only when the timeless is; otherwise life is sorrow, conflict and pain. Thought cannot solve any human problem, for thought itself is the problem. The ending of knowledge is the beginning of wisdom. Wisdom is not of time, it is not the continuation of experience, knowledge. Life in time is confusion and misery; but when that which is is the timeless, there is bliss. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 84 'SUFFERING' A LARGE DEAD animal was floating down the river. On it there were several vultures, tearing away at the carcass; they would fight off the other vultures till they had their fill, and only then would they fly away. The others waited on the trees, on the banks, or hovered overhead. The sun had just risen, and there was heavy dew on the grass. The green fields on the other side of the river were misty, and the voices of the peasants carried so dearly across the water. It was a lovely morning, fresh and new. A baby monkey was playing around the mother among the branches. It would race along a branch, leap to the next one and race back again, or jump up and down near the mother. She was bored by these antics, and would come down the tree and go up another. When We began to climb down, the baby would run and cling to her, getting on her back or swinging under her. It had such a small face, with eyes that were full of play and frightened mischief. How frightened we are of the new, of the unknown! We like to remain enclosed in our daily habits, routines, quarrels and anxieties. We like to think in the same old way, take the same road, see the same faces and have the same worries. We dislike to meet strangers, and when we do we are aloof and distraught. And how frightened we are to encounter an unfamiliar animal 1. We move within the walls of our own thought; and when we do venture out, it is still within the extension of those walls. We have never an ending, but always nourish the continuous. We carry from day to day the burden of yesterday; our life is one long, continuous movements and our minds are dull and insensitive. He could hardly stop weeping. It was not controlled or retrained weeping, but a sobbing that shook his whole body. He was a youngish man, alert with eyes that had seen visions. He was unable to speak for some time; and when at last he did, his voice shook and he would burst into great sobs, unashamed and free. Presently he said: "I haven't wept at all since the day of my wife's death. I don't know what made me cry like that, but it has been a relief. I have wept before, with her when she was alive, and then weeping was as cleansing as laughter; but since her death everything has changed. I used to paint, but now I can't touch the brushes or look at the things I have done. For the last six months I also have seemed to be dead. We had no children, but she was expecting one; and now she is gone. Even now I can hardly realize it, for we did everything together. She was so beautiful and so good, and what shall I do now? I am sorry to have burst out like that, and GOD knows what made me do it; but I know it is good to have cried. It will never be the same again, though; something has gone out or my life. The other day I picked up the brushes, and they were strangers to me. Before, I didn't even know I held a brush in my hand; but now it has weight, it is cumbersome. I have often walked to the river, wanting never to come back; but I always did. I couldn't see people, as her face was always there. I sleep, drink and eat with her, but I know it can never be the same again. I have reasoned about it all, tried to rationalize the event and understand it; but I know she is not there. I dream of her night after night; but I cannot sleep all the time, though I have tried. I dare not touch her things, and the very smell of them drives me almost crazy. I have tried to forget, but do what I will, it can never be the same again. I used to listen to the birds, but now I want to destroy everything. I can't go on like this. I haven't seen any of our friends since then, and without her they mean nothing to me. What am I to do?" We were silent for a long time. Love that turns to sorrow and to hate is not love. Do we know what love is? Is it love that, when thwarted, becomes fury? Is there love when there is gain and loss? "In loving her, all those things ceased to exist. I was completely oblivious of them all, oblivious even of myself. I knew such love, and I still have that love for her; but now I am aware of other things also, of myself, of my sorrow, of the days of my misery." How quickly love turns to hate, to jealousy, to sorrow ! How deeply we are lost in the smoke, and how distant is that which was so close! Now we are aware of other things, which have suddenly become so much more important. We are now aware that we are lonely, without a companion, without the smile and the familiar sharp word; we are aware of ourselves now, and not only of the other. The other was everything, and we nothing; now the other is not, and we are that which is. The other is a dream, and the reality is what we are. Was the other ever real, or a dream of our own creation, clothed with the beauty of our own joy which soon fades? The fading is death, and life is what we are. Death cannot always cover life, however much we may desire it; life is stronger than death. The what is is stronger than what is not. How we love death, and not life! The denial of life is so pleasant, so forgetting. When the other is, we are not; when the other is, we are free, uninhibited; the other is the flower, the neighbour, the scent, the remembrance. We all want the other, we are all identified with the other; the other is important, and not ourselves. The other is the dream of ourselves; and upon waking, we are what is. The what is is deathless, but we want to put an end to what is. The desire to end gives birth to the continuous, and what is continuous can never know the deathless. "I know I cannot go on living like this, a half-death. I am not at all sure that I understand what you are saying. I am too dazed to take anything in." Do you not often find that, though you are not giving your full attention to what is being said or to what you are reading, there has nevertheless been a listening, perhaps unconsciously, and that something has penetrated in spite of yourself? Though you have not deliberately looked at those trees, yet the image of them suddenly comes up in every detail - have you never found that happening? Of course you are dazed from the recent shock; but in spite of that, as you come out of it, what we are saying now will be remembered and then it may be of some help. But what is important to realize is this: when you come out of the shock, the suffering will be more intense, and your desire will be to escape, to run away from your own misery. There are only too many people who will help you to escape; they will offer every plausible explanation, conclusions which they or others have arrived at, every kind of rationalization; or you yourself will find some form of withdrawal, pleasant or unpleasant, to drown your misery. Till now you have been too close to the event, but as the days go by you will crave for some kind of consolation: religion, cynicism, social activity, or some ideology. But escapes of any kind, whether God or drink, only prevent the understanding of sorrow. Sorrow has to be understood and not ignored. To ignore it is to give continuity to suffering; to ignore it is to escape from suffering. To understand suffering needs an operational, experimental approach. To experiment is not to seek a definite result. If you seek a definite result, experiment is not possible. If you know what you want, the going after it is not experimentation. If you seek to get over suffering, which is to condemn it, then you do not understand its whole process; when you try to overcome suffering, your only concern is to avoid it. To understand suffering, there must be no positive action of the mind to justify or to overcome it: the mind must be entirely passive, silently watchful, so that it can follow without hesitation the unfolding of sorrow. Mind cannot follow the story of sorrow if it is tethered to any hope, conclusion or remembrance. To follow the swift movement of what is, the mind must be free; freedom is not to be had at the end, it must be there at the very beginning. "What is the meaning of all this sorrow?" Is not sorrow the indication of conflict, the conflict of pain and pleasure? Is not sorrow the intimation of ignorance? Ignorance is not lack of information about facts; ignorance is unawareness of the total process of oneself. There must be suffering as long as there is no understanding of the ways of the self; and the ways of the self are to be discovered only in the action of relationship. "But my relationship has come to an end." There is no end to relationship. There may be the end of a particular relationship; but relationship can never end. To be is to be related, and nothing can live in isolation. Though we try to isolate ourselves through a particular relationship, such isolation will inevitably breed sorrow. Sorrow is the process of isolation. "Can life ever be what it has been?" Can the joy of yesterday ever be repeated today? The desire for repetition arises only when there is no joy today; when today is empty, we look to the past or to the future. The desire for repetition is desire for continuity, and in continuity there is never the new. There is happiness, not in the past or in the future, but only in the movement of the present. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 85 'SENSATION AND HAPPINESS' WE WERE HIGH up over the green sea, and the noise of the propellers beating the air and the roar of the exhaust made talking difficult. Besides, there were some college boys going to a athletic meet on the island; one of them had a banjo, and he played upon it and sang for many hours. He egged on the others, and they all joined in singing together. The boy with the banjo had a good voice, and the songs were American, songs of the crooners and the cowboys, or jazz. They did it all very well, just like the gramophone records. They were an odd group, concerned only with the present; they had not a thought of anything but immediate enjoyment. Tomorrow held all the troubles: job, marriage, old age and death. But here, high over the sea, it was American songs and picture papers. The lightning among the dark clouds they ignored, and they never saw the curve of the land as it pursued the sea, nor the distant village in the sun. The island was almost below us now. It was green and sparkling, freshly washed by the rains. How neat and orderly everything was from that altitude! The highest hill was flattened, and the white waves had no movement. A brown fishing boat with sails was hurrying before the storm; she would reach safety, for the port was in sight. The winding river came down to the sea, and the soil was golden brown. At that height one saw what was happening on both sides of the river, and the past and the future met. The future was not hidden, though it lay around the bend. At that height there was neither the past nor the future; curving space did not conceal either the time of sowing or the time of reaping. The man in the next seat began to talk of the difficulties of life. He complained of his job, the incessant travelling, the inconsiderateness of his family, and the futility of modern politics. He was on his way to some far-off place, and was rather sad at leaving his home. As he talked he became more and more serious, more and more concerned about the world ad particularly about himself and his family. "I would like to go away from it all to some quiet place, work a little, and be happy. I don't think I have been happy in all my life, and I don't know what it means. We live, breed, work and die, like any other animal. I have lost all enthusiasm, except for making money, and that too is becoming rather boring. I am fairly good at my job and earn a good salary, but what it is all about I haven't the vaguest idea. I would like to be happy, and what do you think I can do about it?" It is a complex thing to understand, and this is hardly the place for a serious talk. "I am afraid I have no other time; the moment we land I must be off again. I may not sound serious, but there are spots of seriousness in me; the only trouble is, they never seem to get together. I am really quite serious at heart. My father and my older relations were known for their earnestness, but the present economic conditions don't allow one to be completely serious. I have been drawn away from all that, but I would like to get back to it and forget all this stupidity. I suppose I am weak and grumbling about circumstances; but all the same, I would like to be really happy." Sensation is one thing, and happiness is another. Sensation is always seeking further sensation, ever in wider and wider circles. There is no end to the pleasures of sensation; they multiply, but there is always dissatisfaction in their fulfilment; there is always the desire for more, and the demand for more is without end. Sensation and dissatisfaction are inseparable, for the desire for more binds them together. Sensation is the desire for more and also the desire for less. In the very act of the fulfilment or sensation, the demand for more is born. The more is ever in the future; it is the everlasting dissatisfaction with what has been. There is conflict between what has been and what will be. Sensation is always dissatisfaction. One may clothe sensation in religious garb, but it is still what it is: a thing of the mind and a source of conflict and apprehension. Physical sensations are always crying for more; and when they are thwarted, there is anger, jealousy, hatred. There is pleasure in hatred, and envy is satisfying; when one sensation is thwarted, satisfaction is found in the very antagonism that frustration has brought. Sensation is ever a reaction, and it wanders from one reaction to another. The wanderer is the mind; the mind is sensation. The mind is the storehouse of sensation, pleasant and unpleasant, and all experience is reaction. The mind is memory, which alter all is reaction. Reaction or sensation can never be satisfied; response can never be content. Response is always negation, and what is not can never be. Sensation knows no contentment. Sensation, reaction must always breed conflict, and the very conflict is further sensation. Confusion breeds confusion. The activity of the mind, at all its different levels, is the furthering of sensation; and when its expansion is denied, it finds gratification in contraction. Sensation, reaction, is the conflict of the opposites; and in this conflict of resistance and acceptance, yielding and denying, there is satisfaction which is ever seeking further satisfaction. Mind can never find happiness. Happiness is not a thing to be pursued and found, as sensation. Sensation can be found again and again, for it is ever being lost; but happiness cannot be found. Remembered happiness is only a sensation, a reaction for or against the present. What is over is not happiness; the experience of happiness which is over is sensation, for remembrance is the past and the past is sensation. Happiness is not sensation. Have you ever been aware of being happy? "Of course I have, thank God, otherwise I would not know what it is to be happy." Surely, what you were aware of was the sensation of an experience which you call happiness; but that is not happiness. What you know is the past, not the present; and the past is sensation, reaction, memory. You remember that you were happy; and can the past tell what happiness is? It can recall but it cannot be. Recognition is not happiness; to know what it is to be happy, is not happiness. Recognition is the response of memory; and can the mind, the complex of memories, experiences, ever be happy? The very recognition prevents the experiencing. When you are aware that you are happy, is there happiness? When there is happiness, are you aware of it? Consciousness comes only with conflict, the conflict of remembrance of the more. Happiness is not the remembrance of the more. Where there is conflict, happiness is not. Conflict is where the mind is. Thought at all levels is the response of memory, and so thought invariably breeds conflict. Thought is sensation, and sensation ia not happiness. Sensations are ever seeking gratifications. The end is sensation, but happiness is not an end; it cannot be sought out. "But how can sensations come to an end?" To end sensation is to invite death. Mortification is only another form of sensation. In mortification, physical or psychological, sensitivity is destroyed, but not sensation. Thought that mortifies itself is only seeking further sensation, for thought itself is sensation. Sensation can never put an end to sensation; it may have different sensations at other levels, but there is no ending to sensation. To destroy sensation is to be insensitive, dead; not to see, not to smell, not to touch is to be dead, which is isolation. Our problem is entirely different, is it not? Thought can never bring happiness; it can only recall sensations, for thought is sensation. It cannot cultivate, produce, or progress towards happiness. Thought can only go towards that which it knows, but the known is not happiness; the known is sensation. Do what it will, thought cannot be or search out happiness. Thought can only be aware of its own structure, its own movement when thought makes an effort to put an end to itself, it is only seeking to be more successful, to reach a goal, an end which will be more gratifying. The more is knowledge, but not happiness. Thought must be aware of its own ways, of its own cunning deceptions. In being aware of itself, without any desire to be or not to be, the mind comes to a state of inaction. Inaction is not death; it is a passive watchfulness in which thought is wholly inactive. It is the highest state of sensitivity. When the mind is completely inactive at all its levels, only then is there action. All the activities of the mind are mere sensations, reactions to stimulation, to influence, and so not action at all. When the mind is without activity, there is action; this action is without cause, and only then is there bliss. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 86 'TO SEE THE FALSE AS THE FALSE' IT WAS A beautiful evening. The sky was flaming red behind the rice fields, and the tall, slender palms were swaying in the breeze. The bus loaded with people was making a lot of noise as it climbed the little hill, and the river wound round the hill as it made its way to the sea. The cattle were fat, the vegetation was thick, and there was an abundance of flowers. plump little boys were playing in a field, and the little girls looked on with astonished eyes. There was a small shrine nearby, and someone was lighting a lamp in front of the image. In a solitary house the evening prayers were being said, and the room was lighted by a lamp which was not too bright. The whole family had gathered there, and they all seemed to be enjoying their prayers. A dog was fast asleep in the middle of the road, and a cyclist went round it. It was getting dark now, and the fireflies lit up the faces of the people who silently passed by. One was caught in a woman's hair, giving her head a soft glow. How kind we naturally are, especially away from the towns, in the fields and the small villages! Life is more intimate among the less educated, where the fever of ambition has not yet spread. The boy smiles at you, the old woman wonders, the man hesitates and passes by. A group stops its loud talk and turns to look with surprised interest, and a woman waits for you to pass her. We know so little of ourselves; we know, but we do not understand; we know, but we have no communion with another. We do not know ourselves. And how can we know another? We can never know another, we can only commune with another. We can know the dead, but never the living; what we know is the dead past, not the living. To be aware of the living, we must bury the dead in ourselves. We know the names of trees, of bird, of shops, but what do we know of ourselves beyond some words and appetites? We have information, conclusions about so many things; but there is no happiness, no peace that is not stagnant. Our lives are dull and empty, or so full of words and activity that it blinds us. Knowledge is not wisdom, and without wisdom there is no peace, no happiness. He was a young man, a professor of some kind, dissatisfied, worried and burdened with responsibilities. He began by narrating his troubles, the weary lot of man. He had been well educated, he said - which was mostly a matter of knowing how to read and gathering information from books. He stated that he had been to as many of the talks as he could, and went on to explain that for years he had been trying to give up smoking, but had never been able to give it up entirely. He wanted to give it up because it was expensive as well as stupid. He had done everything he could to stop smoking, but had always come back to it. This was one of his problems, among others. He was intense, nervous and thin. Do we understand anything if we condemn it? To push it away, or to accept it, is easy; but the very condemnation or acceptance is an avoidance of the problem. To condemn a child is to push him away from you in order not to be bothered by hun; but the child is still there. To condemn is to disregard, to pay no attention; and there can be no understanding through condemnation. "I have condemned myself for smoking, over and over again. It is difficult not to condemn." Yes, it is difficult not to condemn, for our conditioning is based on denial, justification, comparison and resignation. This is our background, the conditioning with which we approach every problem. This very conditioning breeds the problem, the conflict. You have tried to rationalize away the smoking, have you not? When you say it is stupid, you have thought it all out and come to the conclusion that it is stupid. And yet rationalization has not made you give it up. We think that we can be free from a problem by knowing its cause; but the knowing is merely information, a verbal conclusion. This knowledge obviously prevents the understanding of the problem. Knowing the cause of a problem and understanding the problem are two entirely different things. "But how else can one approach a problem?" That is what we are going to find out. When we discover what the false approach is, we shall be aware of the only approach. The understanding of the false is the discovery of the true. To see the false as the false is arduous. We look at the false through comparison, through the measure of thought; and can the false be seen as the false through any thought process? Is not thought itself conditioned and so false? "But how can we know the false as the false without the thought process?" This is our whole trouble, is it not? When we use thought to solve a problem, surely we are using an instrument which is not at all adequate; for thought itself is a product of the past, of experience. Experience is always in the past. To see the false as the false, thought must be aware of itself as a dead process. Thought can never be free, and there must be freedom to discover, freedom from thought. "I don't quite see what you mean." One of your problems is smoking. You have approached it with condemnation, or you have tried to rationalize it away. This approach is false. How do you discover that it is false? Surely, not through thought, but by being passively watchful of how you approach the problem. Passive watchfulness does not demand thought; on the contrary, if thought is functioning there can be no passivity. Thought functions only to condemn or justify, to compare or accept; if there is a passive watchfulness of this process, then it is perceived as what it is. "Yes, I see that; but how does this apply to my smoking?" Let us experiment together to find out if one can approach the problem of smoking without condemnation, comparison, and so on. Can we look at the problem afresh, without the past overshadowing it? It is extremely difficult to look at it without any reaction, is it not? We seem unable to be aware of it passively, there is always some kind of response from the past. It is interesting to see how incapable we are of observing the problem as though it were new. We carry along with us all our past efforts, conclusions, intentions; we cannot look at the problem except through these curtains. No problem is ever old, but we approach it with the old formulations, which prevent our understanding it. Be passively watchful of these responses. Just be passively aware of them, see that they cannot solve the problem. The problem is real, it is an actuality, but the approach is utterly inadequate. The inadequate response to what is breeds conflict; and conflict is the problem. If there is an understanding of this whole process, then you will find that you will act adequately with regard to smoking. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 87 'SECURITY' THE SMALL STREAM was flowing very gently beside the path that wound round the rice fields, and it was crowded with lotuses; they were dark violet with golden hearts, and they were clear of the water. Their scent remained close to them, and they were very beautiful. The sky was overcast; it was beginning to drizzle, and there was thunder among the clouds. The lightning was still far away, but it was coming towards the tree under which we were sheltering. It began to rain heavily, and the lotus leaves were collecting drops of water; when the drops became too large, they slipped off the leaves, only to form again. The lightning was now above the tree, and the cattle were frightened and straining at their ropes. A black calf, wet and shivering, was calling piteously; it broke its rope and ran towards a nearby hut. The lotuses were closing themselves tightly, shutting their heats against the gathering darkness; one would have had to tear the violet petals to get at the golden hearts. They would remain tightly closed till the coming of the sun. Even in their sleep they were beautiful. The lightning was moving towards the town; it was now quite dark, and one could just hear the murmur of the stream. The path led past the village to the road which took us back to the noisy town. He was a young man, in his twenties; he was well fed, had travelled a little and been to college. He was nervous and there was anxiety in his eyes. It was late, but he wanted to talk; he wanted someone to explore his mind for him. He exposed himself very simply, without any hesitation or pretension. His problem was clear, but not to him; he went groping about. We do not listen and discover what is; we foist our ideas and opinions on another, trying to force the other into the frame of our thought. Our own thoughts and judgments are so much more important to us than to find out what is. The what is is always simple; it is we who are complex. We make the simple, the what is, complex, and we get lost in it. We listen only to the increasing noise of our own confusion. To listen, we must be free. It is not that there must be no distractions, for thinking itself is a form of distraction. We must be free to be silent, and only then is it possible to hear. He was saying that just as he was going off to sleep he would sit up with a start of naked fear. Then the room would lose its proportions; the walls would go flat, there would be no roof, and the floor would disappear. He would be frightened and sweating. This had been going on for many years. What are you frightened of? "I don't know; but when I wake up with fear, I go to my sister, or to my father and mother, and talk with them for some time to calm myself, and then go off to sleep. They understand, but I am in my twenties and it is getting rather silly." Are you anxious about the future? "Yes, somewhat. Though we have money, I am still rather anxious about it." Why? "I want to marry and provide comfort for my future wife." Why be anxious about the future? You are quite young, and you can work and give her what is necessary. Why be so preoccupied with this? Are you afraid of losing your social position? "Partly. We have a car, some property and reputation. Naturally I don't want to lose all this, which may be the cause of my fear. But it isn't quite this. It is the fear of not being. When I wake up with fear, I feel I am lost, that I am nobody, that I am falling to pieces." After all, a new government may come in and you may lose your property, your holdings; but you are quite young, and you can always work. Millions are losing their worldly goods, and you too may have to face that. Besides, the things of the world are to be shared and not to be exclusively possessed. At your age, why be so conservative, so afraid of losing? "You see, I want to marry a particular girl, and I am anxious that nothing should stop it. Nothing is likely to stop it, but I miss her and she misses me, and this may be another cause of my fear." Is that the cause of your fear? You say that nothing out of the ordinary is likely to happen to prevent your marrying her, so why this fear? "Yes, it is true that we can marry whenever we decide to, so that cannot be the cause of my fear, at least not now. I think I am really frightened of not being, of losing my identity, my name." Even if you did not care about your name, but had your property and so on, would you not still be afraid? What do we mean by identity? It is to be identified with a name, with property, with a person, with ideas; it is to be associated with something, to be recognized as this or that, to be labelled as belonging to a particular group or country, and so on. You are afraid of losing your label, is that it? "Yes. Otherwise, what am I? Yes, that is it." So you are your possessions. Your name and reputation, your car and other property, the girl you are going to marry, the ambitions that you have - you are these things. These things, together with certain characteristics and values, go to make up what you call "I; you are the sum total of all this, and you are afraid of losing it. As with everyone else, there is always the possibility of loss; a war may come, there may be a revolution or a change in government towards the left. Something may happen to deprive you of these things, now or tomorrow. But why be afraid of insecurity? Is not insecurity the very nature of all things? Against this insecurity you are building walls that will protect you; but these walls can be and are being broken down. You may escape from it for a time, but the danger of insecurity is always there. That which is, you cannot avoid; insecurity is there, whether you like it or not. This does not mean that you must resign yourself to it, or that you must accept or deny it; but you are young, and why be afraid of insecurity? "Now that you put it this way, I don't think I am afraid of insecurity. I really don't mind working; I work over eight hours a day at my job, and though I don't particularly like it, I can carry on. No, I am not afraid of losing property, the car, and so on; and my fiancee and I can marry whenever we want to. I see now that it is none of this that is making me fearful. Then what is it?" Let us find out together. I might be able to tell you, but it would not be your discovery; it would only be on the verbal level, and so utterly useless. The finding of it will be your own experiencing of it, and it is this that is really important. Discovering is experiencing; we will discover it together. If it is none of these things that you are frightened of losing, if you are not afraid of being insecure outwardly, then of what are you anxious? Don't answer right away; just listen, be watchful to find out. Are you quite sure it is not physical insecurity that you are frightened of? As far as one can be sure of such things, you say that you are not frightened of it. If you are sure that this is not a mere verbal assertion, then of what are you afraid? "I am quite sure I am not frightened of being physically insecure; we can marry and have what we need. It is something more than the mere loss of things that I am afraid of. But what is it?" We will find out, but let us consider it quietly. You really want to find out, don't you? "Of course I do, especially now that we have gone as far as this. What is it that I am frightened of?" To find out we must be quiet, watchful, but not pressing. If you are not frightened of physical insecurity, are you frightened of being inwardly insecure, of being unable to achieve the end which you have set for yourself? Don't answer, just listen. Do you feel incapable of becoming somebody? Probably you have a religious ideal; and do you feel you have not the capacity to live up to or achieve it? Do you feel a sense of hopelessness about it, a sense of guilt or frustration? "You are perfectly right. Ever since I heard you some years ago as a boy, it has been my ideal, if I may say so, to be like you. It's in our blood to be religious, and I have felt I could be like that; but there has always been a deep fear of never coming near it." Let us go slowly. Though you are not frightened of being outwardly insecure, you are frightened of being insecure inwardly. Another man makes himself secure outwardly with a reputation, with fame, with money, and so on, while you want to be secure inwardly with an ideal; and you feel you have no capacity to become that ideal. Why do you want to become or achieve an ideal? Isn't it only to be secure, to feel safe? This refuge you call an ideal; but actually you want to be safe, protected. Is that it? "Now that you point it out, that is exactly it." You have discovered this now, have you not? But let us proceed further. You see the obvious shallowness of outward security; but do you also see the falseness of seeking inward security through becoming the ideal? The ideal is your refuge, instead of money. Do you really see this? "Yes, I really do." Then be what you are. When you see the falseness of the ideal, it drops away from you. You are what is. From there proceed to understand what is - but not towards any particular end, for the end, the goal is always away from what is. The what is is yourself, not at any particular period or in any given mood, but yourself as you are from moment to moment. Do not condemn yourself or become resigned to what you see, but be watchful without interpreting the movement of what is. This will & arduous, but there is delight in it. Only to the free is there happiness, and freedom comes with the truth of what is. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES I CHAPTER 88 'WORK' ALOOF AND INCLINED to be cynical, he was some kind of minister in the Government. He had been brought along, or more probably dragged, by a friend, and seemed rather surprised at finding himself there. The friend wanted to talk something over and evidently thought that the other might as well come along and hear his problem. The minister was curious and rather superior. He was a big man, sharp of eye and a facile talker. He had arrived in life, and was settling back. To travel is one thing, and to arrive is another. Travelling is constant arriving, and arrival that has no further travelling is death. How easily we are gratified, and how quickly discontent finds contentment! We all want a refuge of some kind, a haven from all conflict, and we generally find it. The clever, like the foolish, find their haven and are alert within it. "I have been trying to understand my problem for a number of years, but I haven't been able to get to the bottom of it. In my work I have always brought about antagonism; enmity has somehow crept in amongst all the people I have tried to help. In helping some, I sow opposition among others. With one hand I give, and with the other I seem to injure. This has been going on for more years than I can remember, and now a situation has arisen in which I have to act rather decisively. I really don't want to hurt anyone, and I am at a loss what to do." Which is more important: not to hurt, not to create enmity, or to do some piece of work? "In the course of my work I do hurt others. I am one of those people who throw themselves into their work; if I undertake something, I want to see it through. I have always been that way. I think I am fairly efficient and I hate to see inefficiency. After all, if we undertake some kind of social work, we must go through with it, and those who are inefficient or slack naturally get hurt and become antagonistic. The work of bringing help to others is important, and in helping the needy I hurt those who come in the way. But I really don't want to hurt people, and I have begun to realize that I must do something about it." Which to you is important: to work, or not to hurt people? "When one sees so much misery and plunges into the work of reform, in the course of that work one hurts certain people, though most unwillingly." In saving one group of people, others are destroyed. One country survives at the expense of another. The so-called spiritual people, in their ardour for reform, save some and destroy others; they bring blessings and also curses. We always seem to be kind to some and brutal to others. Why? Which to you is important: to work, or not to hurt people? "After all, one has to hurt certain people, the slovenly, the inefficient, the selfish, it seems inevitable. Don't you hurt people by your talks? I know a rich man who has been very hurt by what you say about the wealthy." I do not want to hurt anyone. If people are hurt in the process of certain work, then to me that work has to be put aside. I have no work, no schemes for any kind of reform or revolution. With me work is not first, but not to hurt others. If the rich man feels hurt by what is said, he is not hurt by me, but by the truth of what is, which he dislikes; he doesn't want to be exposed. It is not my intention to expose another. If a man is temporarily exposed by the truth of what is and gets angry at what he sees, he puts the blame on others; but that is only an escape from the fact. It is foolish to be angry with a fact. Avoidance of a fact through anger is one of the commonest and most thoughtless reactions. But you have not answered my question. Which to you is important: to work, or not to hurt people? "Work has to be done, don't you think?" put in the minister. Why should it be done? If in the course of benefiting some you hurt or destroy others, what value has it? You may save your particular country, but you exploit or maim another. Why are you so concerned about your country, your party, your ideology? Why are you so identified with your work? Why does work matter so much? "We have to work, be active, otherwise we might as well be dead. When the house is burning, we cannot for the moment be concerned with fundamental issues." To the merely active, fundamentals are never the issue; they are only concerned with activity, which brings superficial benefits and deep harms. But if I may ask our friend: why is a certain kind of work so important to you? Why are you so attached to it? "Oh, I don't know, but it gives me a great deal of happiness." So you are really not interested in the work itself, but in what you get out of it. You may not make money at it, but you derive happiness from it. As another gains power, position and prestige in saving his party or his country, so you gain pleasure from your work; as another finds great satisfaction, which he calls a blessing, in serving his saviour, his guru, his Master, so you are satisfied by what you call altruistic work. Actually it is not the country, the work, or the saviour that is important to you, but what you get out of it. Your own happiness is all-important, and your particular work gives you what you want. You are really not interested in the people you are supposed to be helping; they are only a means to your happiness. And obviously the inefficient, those who stand in your way, get hurt; for the work matters, the work being your happiness. This is the brutal fact, but we cunningly cover it with high-sounding words like service, country, peace, God, and so on. So, if one may point out, you really do not mind hurting people who hinder the efficiency of the work that gives you happiness. You find happiness in certain work, and that work, whatever it be, is you. You are interested in getting happiness, and the work offers you the means; therefore the work becomes very important, and then of course you are very efficient, ruth- less, dominating for the sake of that which gives you happiness. So you do not mind hurting people, breeding enmity. "I have never seen it that way before, and it is perfectly true. But what am I to do about it?" Is it not important to find out also why you have taken so many years to see a simple fact like this? "I suppose, as you say, I really didn't care whether I hurt people or not so long as I got my way. I generally do get my way, because I have always been very efficient and direct - which you would call ruthlessness, and you are perfectly right. But what am I to do now?" You have taken all these years to see this simple fact because until now you have been unwilling to see it; for in seeing it you are attacking the very foundation of your being. You have sought happiness and found it, but it has always brought conflict and antagonism; and now, perhaps for the first time, you are facing facts about yourself. What are you going to do? Is there not a different approach to work? Is it not possible to be happy and work, rather than to seek happiness in work? When we use work or people as a means to an end, then obviously we have no relationship, no communion either with the work or with people; and then we are incapable of love. Love is not a means to an end; it is its own eternity. When I use you and you use me, which is generally called relationship, we are important to each other only as a means to something else; so we are not important to each other at all. From this mutual usage, conflict and antagonism must inevitably arise. So what are you going to do? Let us both discover what to do rather than seek an answer from another. If you can search it out, your finding of it will be your experiencing of it; then it will be real and not just a confirmation or conclusion, a mere verbal answer. "What, then, is my problem?" Can we not put it this way? Spontaneously, what is your first reaction to the question: Does the work come first? If it does not, then what does? "I am beginning to see what you are trying to get at. My first response is shock; I am really appalled to see what I have been doing in my work for so many years. This is the first time I have faced the fact of what is, as you call it, and I assure you it is not very pleasant. If I can go beyond it, perhaps I shall see what is important, and then the work will naturally follow. But whether the work or something else comes first is still not clear to me." Why is it not clear? Is clarity a matter of time, or of willingness to see? Will the desire not to see disappear by itself in the course of time? Is not your lack of clarity due to the simple fact that you don't want to be clear because it would upset the whole pattern of your daily life? If you are aware that you are deliberately postponing, are you not immediately clear? It is this avoidance that brings confusion. "It is all becoming very clear to me now, and what I shall do is immaterial. Probably I shall do what I have been doing, but with quite a different spirit. We shall see." Creative Happiness Conditioning The Fear Of Inner Solitude The Process Of Hate Progress And Revolution Boredom Discipline Conflict, Freedom, Relationship Effort Devotion And Worship Interest Education And Integration Chastity The Fear Of Death The Fusion Of The Thinker And His Thoughts The Pursuit Of Power What Is Making You Dull Karma The Individual And The Ideal To Be Vulnerable Is To Live, To Withdraw Is To Die Despair And Hope The Mind And The Known Conformity And Freedom Time And Continuity The Family And The Desire For Security The 'I' The Nature Of Desire The Purpose Of Life Valuing An Experience This Problem Of Love What Is The True Function Of A Teacher Your Children And Their Success The Urge To Seek Listening The Fire Of Discontent An Experience Of Bliss A Politician Who Wanted To Do Good The Competitive Way Of Life Meditation, Effort, Consciousness Psychoanalysis And The Human Problem Cleansed Of The Past Authority And Co-operation 43_Mediocrity Positive And Negative Teaching Help Silence Of The Mind Contentment The Actor The Way Of Knowledge Convictions, Dreams Death Evaluation Envy And Loneliness The Storm In The Mind Control Of Thought Is There Profound Thinking Immensity COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES II CHAPTER 1 'CREATIVE HAPPINESS' There is a city by the magnificent river; wide and long steps lead down to the water's edge, and the world seems to live on those steps. From early morning till well after dark, they are always crowded and noisy; almost level with the water are little projecting steps on which people sit and are lost in their hopes and longings, in their gods and chants. The temple bells are ringing, the muezzin is calling; someone is singing, and a huge crowd has gathered, listening in appreciative silence. Beyond all this, round the bend and higher up the river, there is a pile of buildings. With their avenues of trees and wide roads, they stretch several miles inland; and along the river, through a narrow and dirty lane, one enters into this scattered field of learning. So many students from all over the country are there, eager, active and noisy. The teachers are pompous, intriguing for better positions and salaries. No one seems to be greatly concerned with what happens to the students after they leave. The teachers impart certain knowledge and techniques which the clever ones quickly absorb; and when they graduate, that is that. The teachers have assured jobs, they have families and security; but when the students leave, they have to face the turmoil and the insecurity of life. There are such buildings, such teachers and students all over the land. Some students achieve fame and position in the world; others breed, struggle and die. The State wants competent technicians, administrators to guide and to rule; and there is always the army, the church, and business. All the world over, it is the same. It is to learn a technique and to have a job, a profession, that we go through this process of having the upper mind stuffed with facts and knowledge, is it not? Obviously, in the modern world, a good technician has a better chance of earning a livelihood; but then what? Is one who is a technician better able to face the complex problem of living than one who is not? A profession is only a part of life; but there are also those parts which are hidden, subtle and mysterious. To emphasize the one and to deny or neglect the rest must inevitably lead to very lopsided and disintegrating activity. This is precisely what is taking place in the world today, with ever mounting conflict, confusion and misery. Of course there are a few exceptions, the creative, the happy, those who are in touch with something that is not man-made, who are not dependent on the things of the mind. You and I have intrinsically the capacity to be happy, to be creative, to be in touch with something that is beyond the clutches of time. Creative happiness is not a gift reserved for the few; and why is it that the vast majority do not know that happiness? Why do some seem to keep in touch with the profound in spite of circumstances and accidents, while others are destroyed by them? Why are some resilient, pliable, while others remain unyielding and are destroyed? In spite of knowledge, some keep the door open to that which no person and no book can offer, while others are smothered by technique and authority. Why? It is fairly clear that the mind wants to be caught and made certain in some kind of activity, disregarding wider and deeper issues, for it is then on safer ground; so its education, its exercises its activities are encouraged and sustained on that level, and excuses are found for not going beyond it. Before they are contaminated by so-called education, many children are in touch with the unknown; they show this in so many ways. But environment soon begins to close around them, and after a certain age they lose that light, that beauty which is not found in any book or school. Why? Do not say that life is too much for them, that they have to face hard realities, that it is their karma, that it is their fathers sin; this is all nonsense. Creative happiness is for all and not for the few alone. You may express it in one way and I in another, but it is for all. Creative happiness has no value on the market; it is not a commodity to be sold to the highest bidder, but it is the one thing that can be for all. Is creative happiness realizable? That is, can the mind keep in touch with that which is the source of all happiness? Can this openness be sustained in spite of knowledge and technique, in spite of education and the crowding in of life? It can be, but only when the educator is educated to this reality, only when he who teaches is himself in touch with the source of creative happiness. So our problem is not the pupil, the child, but the teacher and the parent. Education is a vicious circle only when we do not see the importance, the essential necessity above all else, of this supreme happiness. After all, to be open to the source of all happiness is the highest religion; but to realize this happiness, you must give right attention to it, as you do to business. The teacher's profession is not a mere routine job, but the expression of beauty and joy, which cannot be measured in terms of achievement and success. The light of reality and its bliss are destroyed when the mind, which is the seat of self, assumes control. Self-knowledge is the beginning of wisdom; without self-knowledge, learning leads to ignorance, strife and sorrow. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES II CHAPTER 2 'CONDITIONING' HE WAS VERY concerned with helping humanity, with doing good works, and was active in various social-welfare organizations. He said he had literally never taken a long holiday, and that since his graduation from college he had worked constantly for the betterment of man. Of course he wasn't taking any money for the work he was doing. His work had always been very important to him, and he was greatly attached to what he did. He had become a first-class social worker, and he loved it. But he had heard something in one of the talks about the various kinds of escape which condition the mind, and he wanted to talk things over. "Do you think being a social worker is conditioning? Does it only bring about further conflict?" Let us find out what we mean by conditioning. When are we aware that we are conditioned? Are we ever aware of it? Are you aware that you are conditioned, or are you only aware of conflict, of struggle at various levels of your being? Surely, we are aware, not of our conditioning, but only of conflict, of pain and pleasure. "What do you mean by conflict?" Every kind of conflict: the conflict between nations, between various social groups, between individuals, and the conflict within oneself. Is not conflict inevitable as long as there is no integration between the actor and his action, between challenge and response? Conflict is our problem, is it not? Not any one particular conflict, but all conflict: the struggle between ideas, beliefs, ideologies, between the opposites. If there were no conflict there would be no problems. "Are you suggesting that we should all seek a life of isolation, of contemplation?" Contemplation is arduous, it is one of the most difficult things to understand. Isolation, though each one is consciously or unconsciously seeking it in his own way, does not solve our problems; on the contrary, it increases them. We are trying to understand what are the factors of conditioning which bring further conflict. We are only aware of conflict, of pain and pleasure, and we are not aware of our conditioning. What makes for conditioning? "Social or environmental influences: the society in which we were born, the culture in which we have been raised, economic and political pressures, and so on." That is so; but is that all? These influences are our own product, are they not? Society is the outcome of man's relationship with man, which is fairly obvious. This relationship is one of use, of need, of comfort, of gratification, and it creates influences, values that bind us. The binding is our conditioning. By our own thoughts and actions we are bound; but we are not aware that we are bound, we are only aware of the conflict of pleasure and pain. We never seem to go beyond this; and if we do, it is only into further conflict. We are not aware of our conditioning, and until we are, we can only produce further conflict and confusion. "How is one to be aware of one's conditioning?" It is possible only by understanding another process, the process of attachment. If we can understand why we are attached, then perhaps we can be aware of our conditioning. "Isn't that rather a long way round to come to a direct question?" Is it? just try to be aware of your conditioning. You can only know it indirectly, in relation to something else. You cannot be aware of your conditioning as an abstraction, for then it is merely verbal, without much significance. We are only aware of conflict. Conflict exists when there is no integration between challenge and response. This conflict is the result of our conditioning. Conditioning is attachment: attachment to work, to tradition, to property, to people, to ideas, and so on. If there were no attachment, would there be conditioning? Of course not. So why are we attached? I am attached to my country because through identification with it I become somebody. I identify myself with my work, and the work becomes important. I am my family, my property; I am attached to them. The object of attachment offers me the means of escape from my own emptiness. Attachment is escape, and it is escape that strengthens conditioning. If I am attached to you, it is because you have become the means of escape from myself; therefore you are very important to me and I must possess you, hold on to you. You become the conditioning factor, and escape is the conditioning. If we can be aware of our escapes, we can then perceive the factors, the influences that make for conditioning. "Am I escaping from myself through social work?" Are you attached to it, bound to it? Would you feel lost, empty, bored, if you did not do social work? "I am sure I would." Attachment to your work is your escape. There are escapes at all the levels of our being. You escape through work, another through drink, another through religious ceremonies, another through knowledge, another through God, and still another is addicted to amusement. All escapes are the same, there is no superior or inferior escape. God and drink are on the same level as long as they are escapes from what we are. When we are aware of our escapes, only then can we know of our conditioning. "What shall I do if I cease to escape through social work? Can I do anything without escaping? Is not all my action a form of escape from what I am?" Is this question merely verbal, or does it reflect an actuality, a fact which you are experiencing? If you did not escape, what would happen? Have you ever tried it? "What you are saying is so negative, if I may say so. You don't offer any substitute for work." Is not all substitution another form of escape? When one particular form of activity is not satisfactory or brings further conflict, we turn to another. To replace one activity by another without understanding escape is rather futile, is it not? It is these escapes and our attachment to them that make for conditioning. Conditioning brings problems, conflict. It is conditioning that prevents our understanding of the challenge; being conditioned, our response must inevitably create conflict. "How can one be free from conditioning?" Only by understanding, being aware of our escapes. Our attachment to a person, to work, to an ideology, is the conditioning factor; this is the thing we have to understand, and not seek a better or more intelligent escape. All escapes are unintelligent, as they inevitably bring about conflict. To cultivate detachment is another form of escape, of isolation; it is attachment to an abstraction, to an ideal called detachment. The ideal is fictitious, ego-made, and becoming the ideal is an escape from what is. There is the understanding of what is, an adequate action towards what is, only when the mind is no longer seeking any escape. The very thinking about what is is an escape from what is. Thinking about the problem is escape from the problem; for thinking is the problem, and the only problem. The mind, unwilling to be what it is, fearful of what it is, seeks these various escapes; and the way of escape is thought. As long as there is thinking, there must be escapes, attachments, which only strengthen conditioning. Freedom from conditioning comes with the freedom from thinking. When the mind is utterly still, only then is there freedom for the real to be. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES II CHAPTER 3 'THE FEAR OF INNER SOLITUDE' HOW NECESSARY it is to die each day, to die each minute to every thing to the many yesterdays and to the moment that has just gone by! Without death there is no renewing, without death there is no creation. The burden of the past gives birth to its own continuity, and the worry of yesterday gives new life to the worry of today. Yesterday perpetuates today, and tomorrow is still yesterday. There is no release from this continuity except in death. In dying there is joy. This new morning, fresh and clear, is free from the light and darkness of yesterday; the song of that bird is heard for the first lime, and the noise of those children is not that of yesterday. We carry the memory of yesterday, and it darkens our being. As long as the mind is the mechanical machine of memory, it knows no rest, no quietude, no silence; it is ever wearing itself out. That which is still can be reborn, but anything that is in constant activity wears out and is useless. The well-spring is in ending, and death is as near as life. She said she had studied for a number of years with one of the famous psychologists and had been analysed by him, which had taken considerable time. Though she had been brought up as a Christian and had also studied Hindu philosophy and its teachers, she had never joined any particular group or associated herself with any system of thought. As always, she was still dissatisfied, and had even put aside the psychoanalysis; and now she was engaged in some kind of welfare work. She had been married and had known all the misfortunes of family life as well as its joys. She had taken refuge in various ways: in social prestige, in work, in money, and in the warm delight of this country by the blue sea. Sorrows had multiplied, which she could bear; but she had never been able to go beyond a certain depth, and it was not very deep. Almost everything is shallow and soon comes to an end, only to begin again with a further shallowness. The inexhaustible is not to be discovered through any activity of the mind. "I have gone from one activity to another, from one misfortune to another, always being driven and always pursuing. Now that I have reached the end of one urge, and before I follow another which will carry me on for a number of years, I have acted on a stronger impulse, and here I am. I have had a good life, gay and rich. I have been interested in many things and have studied certain subjects fairly deeply; but somehow, after all these years, I am still on the fringe of things, I don't seem able to penetrate beyond a certain point; I want to go deeper, but I cannot. I am told I am good at what I have been doing, and it is that very goodness that binds me. My conditioning is of the beneficent kind: doing good to others, helping the needy, consideration, generosity, and so on; but it is binding, like any other conditioning. My problems to be free, not only of this conditioning, but of all conditioning, and to go beyond. This has become an imperative necessity, not only from hearing the talks, but also from my own observation and experience. I have for the time being put aside my welfare work, and whether or not I shall continue with it will be decided later." Why have you not previously asked yourself the reason for all these activities? "It has never before occurred to me to ask myself why I am in social work. I have always wanted to help, to do good, and it wasn't just empty sentimentality. I have found that the people with whom I live are not real, but only masks; it is those who need help that are real. Living with the masked is dull and stupid, but with the others there is struggle, pain." Why do you engage in welfare or in any other kind of work? "I suppose it is just to carry on. One must live and act, and my conditioning has been to act as decently as possible. I have never questioned why I do these things, and now I must find out. But before we go any further, let me say that I am a solitary person; though I see many people, I am alone and I like it. There is something exhilarating in being alone." To be alone, in the highest sense, is essential; but the aloneness of withdrawal gives a sense of power, of strength, of invulnerability. Such aloneness is isolation, it is an escape, a refuge. But isn't it important to find out why you have never asked yourself the reason for all your supposedly good activities? Shouldn't you inquire into that? "Yes, let us do so. I think it is the fear of inner solitude that has made me do all these things." Why do you use the word `fear' with regard to inner solitude? Outwardly you don't mind being alone, but from inner solitude you turn away. Why? Fear is not an abstraction, it exists only in relationship to something. Fear does not exist by itself; it exists as a word, but it is felt only in contact with something else. What is it that you are afraid of? "Of this inner solitude." There is fear of inner solitude only in relation to something else. You cannot be afraid of inner solitude, because you have never looked at it; you are measuring it now with what you already know. You know your worth, if one may put it that way, as a social worker, as a mother, as a capable and efficient person, and so on; you know the worth of your outer solitude. So it is in relation to all this that you measure or approach inner solitude; you know what has been, but you don't know what is. The known looking at the unknown brings about fear; it is this activity that causes, fear. "Yes, that is perfectly true. I am comparing the inner solitude with the things I know through experience. It is these experiences that are causing fear of something I have really not experienced at all." So your fear is really not of the inner solitude, but the past is afraid of something it does not know, has not experienced. The past wants to absorb the new, make of it an experience. But can the past, which is you, experience the new, the unknown? The known can experience only that which is of itself, it can never experience the new, the unknown. By giving the unknown a name, by calling it inner solitude, you have only recognized it verbally, and the word is taking the place of experiencing; for the word is the screen of fear. The term `inner solitude' is covering the fact, the what is, and the very word is creating fear. "But somehow I don't seem to be able to look at it." Let us first understand why we are not capable of looking at the fact, and what is preventing our being passively watchful of it. Don't attempt to look at it now, but please listen quietly to what is being said. The known, past experience, is trying to absorb what it calls the inner solitude; but it cannot experience it, for it does not know what it is; it knows the term, but not what is behind the term. The unknown cannot be experienced. You may think or speculate about the unknown, or be afraid of it; but thought cannot comprehend it, for thought is the outcome of the known, of experience. As thought cannot know the unknown, it is afraid of it. There will be fear as long as thought desires to experience, to understand the unknown. "Then what... ?" Please listen. If you listen rightly, the truth of all this will be seen, and then truth will be the only action. Whatever thought does with regard to inner solitude is an escape, an avoidance of what is. In avoiding what is, thought creates its own conditioning which prevents the experiencing of the new, the unknown. Fear is the only response of thought to the unknown; thought may call it by different terms, but still it is fear. Just see that thought cannot operate upon the unknown, upon what is behind the term `inner solitude'. Only then does what is unfold itself, and it is inexhaustible. Now, if one may suggest, leave it alone; you have heard, and let that work as it will. To be still after tilling and sowing is to give birth to creation. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES II CHAPTER 4 'THE PROCESS OF HATE' SHE WAS A teacher, or rather had been one. She was affectionate and kindly, and this had almost become a routine. She said she had taught for over twenty-five years and had been happy in it; and although towards the end she had wanted to get away from the whole thing, she had stuck to it. Recently she had begun to realize what was deeply buried in her nature. She had suddenly discovered it during one of the discussions, and it had really surprised and shocked her. It was there, and it wasn't a mere self-accusation; and as she looked back through the years she could now see that it had always been there. She really hated. It was not hatred of anyone in particular, but a feeling of general hate, a suppressed antagonism towards everyone and everything. When she first discovered it, she thought it was something very superficial which she could easily throw off; but as the days went by she found that it wasn't just a mild affair, but a deep-rooted hatred which had been going on all her life. What shocked her was that she had always thought she was affectionate and kind. Love is a strange thing; as long as thought is woven through it, it is not love. When you think of someone you love, that person becomes the symbol of pleasant sensations, memories, images; but that is not love. Thought is sensation, and sensation is not love. The very process of thinking is the denial of love. Love is the flame without the smoke of thought, of jealousy, of antagonism, of usage, which are things of the mind. As long as the heart is burdened with the things of the mind, there must be hate; for the mind is the seat of hate, of antagonism, of opposition, of conflict. Thought is reaction, and reaction is always, in one way or another, the source of enmity. Thought is opposition, hate; thought is always in competition, always seeking an end, success; its fulfilment is pleasure and its frustration is hate. Conflict is thought caught in the opposites; and the synthesis of the opposites is still hate, antagonism. "You see, I always thought I loved the children, and even when they grew up they used to come to me for comfort when they were in trouble. I took it for granted that I loved them, especially those who were my favorites away from the classroom; but now I see there has always been an undercurrent of hate, of deep-rooted antagonism. What am I to do with this discovery? You have no idea how appalled I am by it, and though you say we must not condemn, this discovery has been very salutary." Have you also discovered the process of hate? To see the cause, to know why you hate, is comparatively easy; but are you aware of the ways of hate? Do you observe it as you would a strange new animal? "It is all so new to me, and I have never watched the process of hate." Let us do so now and see what happens; let us be passively watchful of hate as it unrolls itself. Don't be shocked, don't condemn or find excuses; just passively watch it. Hate is a form of frustration, is it not? Fulfilment and frustration always go together. What are you interested in, not professionally, but deep down? "I always wanted to paint." Why haven't you? "My father used to insist that I should not do anything that didn't bring in money. He was a very aggressive man, and money was to him the end of all things; he never did a thing if there was no money in it, or if it didn't bring more prestige, more power. `More' was his god, and we were all his children. Though I liked him, I was opposed to him in so many ways. This idea of the importance of money was deeply embedded in me; and I liked teaching, probably because it offered me an opportunity to be the boss. On my holidays I used to paint, but it was most unsatisfactory; I wanted to give my life to it, and I actually gave only a couple of months a year. Finally I stopped painting, but it was burning inwardly. I see now how it was breeding antagonism." Were you ever married? Have you children of your own? "I fell in love with a married man, and we lived together secretly. I was furiously jealous of his wife and children, and I was scared to have babies, though I longed for them. All the natural things the everyday companionship and so on, were denied me, and jealousy was a consuming fury. He had to move to another town, and my jealousy never abated. It was an unbearable thing. To forget it all, I took to teaching more intensely. But now I see I am still jealous, not of him, for he is dead, but of happy people, of married people, of the successful, of almost any one. What we could have been together was denied to us!" Jealousy is hate, is it not? If one loves, there is no room for anything else. But we do not love; the smoke chokes our life, and the flame dies. "I can see now that in school, with my married sisters, and in almost all my relationships, there was war going on, only it was covered up. I was becoming the ideal teacher; to become the ideal teacher was my goal, and I was being recognized as such." The stronger the ideal, the deeper the suppression, the deeper the conflict and antagonism. "Yes, I see all that now; and strangely, as I watch, I don't mind being what I actually am." You don't mind it because there is a kind of brutal recognition, is there not? This very recognition brings a certain pleasure; it gives vitality, a sense of confidence in knowing yourself, the power of knowledge. As jealousy, though painful, gave a pleasurable sensation, so now the knowledge of your past gives you a sense of mastery which is also pleasurable. You have now found a new term for jealousy, for frustration, for being left: it is hate and the knowledge of it. There is pride in knowing, which is another form of antagonism. We move from one substitution to another; but essentially, all substitutions are the same, though verbally they may appear to be dissimilar. So you are caught in the net of your own thought, are you not? "Yes, but what else can one do?" Don't ask, but watch the process of your own thinking. How cunning and deceptive it is! It promises release, but only produces another crisis, another antagonism. Just be passively watchful of this and let the truth of it be. "Will there be freedom from jealousy, from hate, from this constant, suppressed battle?" When you are hoping for something positively or negatively, you are projecting your own desire; you will succeed in your desire, but that is only another substitution, and so the battle is on again. This desire to gain or to avoid is still within the field of opposition, is it not? See the false as the false, then the truth is. You don't have to look for it. What you seek you will find, but it will not be truth. It is like a suspicious man finding what he suspects, which is comparatively easy and stupid. Just be passively aware of this total thought process, and also of the desire to be free of it. "All this has been an extraordinary discovery for me, and I am beginning to see the truth of what you are saying. I hope it won't take more years to go beyond this conflict. There I am hoping again! I shall silently watch and see what happens." COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES II CHAPTER 5 'PROGRESS AND REVOLUTION' THEY WERE CHANTING in the temple. It was a clean temple of carved stone, massive and indestructible. There were over thirty priests, naked to the waist; their pronunciation of the Sanskrit was precise and distinct, and they knew the meaning of the chant. The depth and sound of the words made those walls and pillars almost tremble, and instinctively the group that was there became silent. The creation, the beginning of the world was being chanted, and how man was brought forth. The people had closed their eyes, and the chant was producing a pleasant disturbance: nostalgic remembrances of their childhood, thoughts of the progress they had made since those youthful days, the strange effect of Sanskrit words, delight in hearing the chant again. Some were repeating the chant to themselves, and their lips were moving. The atmosphere was getting charged with strong emotions, but the priests went on with the chant and the gods remained silent. How we hug to ourselves the idea of progress. We like to think we shall achieve a better state, become more merciful, peaceful and virtuous. We love to cling to this illusion, and few are deeply aware that this becoming is a pretence, a satisfying myth. We love to think that someday we shall be better, but in the meantime we carry on. Progress is such a comforting word, so reassuring, a word with which we hypnotize ourselves. The thing which is cannot become something different; greed can never become non-greed, any more than violence can become non-violence. You can make pig iron into a marvellous, complicated machine, but progress is illusion when applied to self-becoming. The idea of the `me' becoming something glorious is the simple deception of the craving to be great. We worship the success of the State, of the ideology, of the self, and deceive ourselves with the comforting illusion of progress. Thought may progress, become something more, go towards a more perfect end, or make itself silent; but as long as thought is a movement of acquisitiveness or renunciation, it is always a mere reaction. Reaction ever produces conflict, and progress in conflict is further confusion, further antagonism. He said he was a revolutionary, ready to kill or be killed for his cause, for his ideology. He was prepared to kill for the sake of a better world. To destroy the present social order would of course produce more chaos, but this confusion could be used to build a classless society. What did it matter if you destroyed some or many in the process of building a perfect social order? What mattered was not the present man, but the future man; the new world that they were going to build would have no inequality, there would be work for all, and there would be happiness. How can you be so sure of the future? What makes you so certain of it? The religious people promise heaven, and you promise a better world in the future; you have your book and your priests, as they have theirs, so there is really not much difference between you. But what makes you so sure that you are clear-sighted about the future? "Logically, if we follow a certain course the end is certain. Moreover, there is a great deal of historical evidence to support our position." We all translate the past according to our particular conditioning and interpret it to suit our prejudices. You are as uncertain of tomorrow as the rest of us, and thank heaven it is so! But to sacrifice the present for an illusory future is obviously most illogical. "Do you believe in change, or are you a tool of the capitalist bourgeoisie?" Change is modified continuity, which you may call revolution; but fundamental revolution is quite a different process, it has nothing to do with logic or historical evidence. There is fundamental revolution only in understanding the total process of action, not at any particular level, whether economic or ideological, but action as an integrated whole. Such action is not reaction. You only know reaction, the reaction of antithesis, and the further reaction which you call synthesis. Integration is not an intellectual synthesis, a verbal conclusion based on historical study. Integration can come into being only with the understanding of reaction. The mind is a series of reactions; and revolution based on reactions, on ideas, is no revolution at all, but only a modified continuity of what has been. You may call it revolution, but actually it is not. "What to you is revolution?" Change based on an idea is not revolution; for idea is the response of memory, which is again a reaction. Fundamental revolution is possible only when ideas are not important and so have ceased. A revolution born of antagonism ceases to be what it says it is; it is only opposition, and opposition can never be creative. "The kind of revolution you are talking about is purely an abstraction, it has no reality in the modern world. You are a vague idealist, utterly impractical." On the contrary, the idealist is the man with an idea, and it is he who is not revolutionary. Ideas divide, and separation is disintegration, it is not revolution at all. The man with an ideology is concerned with ideas, words, and not with direct action; he avoids direct action. An ideology is a hindrance to direct action. "Don't you think there can be equality through revolution?" Revolution based on an idea, however logical and in accordance with historical evidence, cannot bring about equality. The very function of idea is to separate people. Belief, religious or political, sets man against man. So-called religions have divided people, and still do. Organized belief, which is called religion, is, like any other ideology, a thing of the mind and therefore separative. You with your ideology are doing the same, are you not? You also are forming a nucleus or group around an idea; you want to include everyone in your group, just as the believer does. You want to save the world in your way, as he in his. You murder and liquidate each other, all for a better world. Neither of you is interested in a better world, but in shaping the world according to your idea. How can idea make for equality. "Within the fold of the idea we are all equal, though we may have different functions. We are first what the idea represents, and afterwards we are individual functionaries. In function we have gradations, but not as representatives of the ideology." This is precisely what every other organized belief has proclaimed. In the eyes of God we are all equal, but in capacity there is variation; life is one, but social divisions are inevitable. By substituting one ideology for another you have not changed the fundamental fact that one group or individual treats another as inferior. Actually, there is inequality at all the levels of existence. One has capacity, and another has not; one leads, and an other follows; one is dull, and another is sensitive, alert, adaptable; one paints or writes, and another digs; one is a scientist, and another a sweeper. Inequality is a fact, and no revolution can do away with it. What so-called revolution does is to substitute one group for another, and the new group then assumes power, political and economic; it becomes the new upper class which proceeds to strengthen itself by privileges, and so on; it knows all the tricks of the other class, which has been thrown down. It has not abolished inequality, has it? "Eventually it will. When the whole world is of our way of thinking, then there will be ideological equality." Which is not equality at all, but merely an idea, a theory, the dream of another world, like that of the religious believer. How very near you are to each other! Ideas divide, they are separative, opposing, breeding conflict. An idea can never bring about equality, even in its own world. If we all believed the same thing at the same time, at the same level, there would be equality of a sort; but that is an impossibility, a mere speculation which can only lead to illusion. "Are you scouting all equality? Are you being cynical and condemning all efforts to bring about equal opportunity for all?" I am not being cynical, but am merely stating the obvious facts; nor am I against equal opportunity. Surely, it is possible to go beyond and perhaps discover an effective approach to this problem of inequality, only when we understand the actual, the what is. To approach what is with an idea, a conclusion, a dream, is not to understand what is. Prejudiced observation is no observation at all. The fact is, there is inequality at all the levels of consciousness, of life; and do what we may, we cannot alter that fact. Now, is it possible to approach the fact of inequality without creating further antagonism, further division? Revolution has used man as a means to an end. The end was important, but not man. Religions have maintained, at least verbally, that man is important; but they too have used man for the building up of belief, of dogma. The utilizing of man for a purpose must of necessity breed the sense of the superior and the inferior, the one who is near and the one who is far, the one who knows and the one who does not know. This separation is psychological inequality, and it is the factor of disintegration in society. At present we know relationship only as utility; society uses the individual, just as individuals use each other, in order to benefit in various ways. This using of another is the fundamental cause of the psychological division of man against man. We cease to use one another only when idea is not the motivating factor in relationship. With idea comes exploitation, and exploitation breeds antagonism. "Then what is the factor that comes into being when idea ceases?" It is love, the only factor that can bring about a fundamental revolution. Love is the only true revolution. But love is not an idea; it is when thought is not. Love is not a tool of propaganda; it is not something to be cultivated and shouted about from the house tops. Only when the flag, the belief, the leader, the idea as planned action, drop away, can there be love; and love is the only creative and constant revolution. "But love won't run machinery, will it?" COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES II CHAPTER 6 'BOREDOM' IT HAD STOPPED raining; the roads were clean, and the dust had been washed from the trees. The earth was refreshed, and the frogs were loud in the pond; they were big, and their throats were swollen with pleasure. The grass was sparkling with tiny drops of water, and there was peace in the land after the heavy downpour. The cattle were soaking wet, but during the rain they never took shelter, and now they were contentedly grazing. Some boys were playing in the little stream that the rain had made by the road side; they were naked, and it was good to see their shining bodies and their bright eyes. They were having the time of their life, and how happy they were! Nothing else mattered, and they smiled out of joy as one said something to them, though they didn't understand a word. The sun was coming out and the shadows were deep. How necessary it is for the mind to purge itself of all thought, to be constantly empty, not made empty, but simply empty; to die to all thought, to all of yesterday's memories, and to the coming hour! It is simple to die, and it is hard to continue; for continuity is effort to be or not to be. Effort is desire, and desire can die only when the mind ceases to acquire. How simple it is just to live! But it is not stagnation. There is great happiness in not wanting, in not being something, in not going somewhere. When the mind purges itself of all thought, only then is there the silence of creation. The mind is not tranquil as long as it is travelling in order to arrive. For the mind, to arrive is to succeed, and success is ever the same, whether at the beginning or at the end. There is no purgation of the mind if it is weaving the pattern of its own becoming. She said she had always been active in one way or another, either with her children, or in social affairs, or in sports; but behind this activity there was always boredom, pressing and constant. She was bored with the routine of life, with pleasure, pain, flattery, and everything else. Boredom was like a cloud that had hung over her life for as long as she could remember. She had tried to escape from it, but every new interest soon became a further boredom, a deadly weariness. She had read a great deal, and had had the usual turmoils of family life, but through it all there was this weary boredom. It had nothing to do with her health, for she was very well. Why do you think you get bored? Is it the outcome of some frustration, of some fundamental desire which has been thwarted? "Not especially. There have been some superficial obstructions, but they have never bothered me; or when they have, I have met them fairly intelligently and have never been stumped by them. I don't think my trouble is frustration, for I have always been able to get what I want. I haven't cried for the moon, and have been sensible in my demands; but there has nevertheless been this sense of boredom with everything, with my family and with my work." What do you mean by boredom? Do you mean dissatisfaction? Is it that nothing has given you complete satisfaction? "It isn't quite that. I am as dissatisfied as any normal person, but I have been able to reconcile myself to the inevitable dissatisfactions." What are you interested in? Is there any deep interest in your life? "Not especially. If I had a deep interest I would never be bored. I am naturally an enthusiastic person, I assure you, and if I had an interest I wouldn't easily let it go. I have had many intermittent interests, but they have all led in the end to this cloud of boredom." What do you mean by interest? Why is there this change from interest to boredom? What does interest mean? You are interested in that which pleases you, gratifies you, are you not? Is not interest a process of acquisitiveness? You would not be interested in anything if you did not get something out of it, would you? There is sustained interest as long as you are acquiring; acquisition is interest, is it not? You have tried to gain satisfaction from every thing you have come in contact with; and when you have thoroughly used it, naturally you get bored with it. Every acquisition is a form of boredom, weariness. We want a change of toys; as soon as we lose interest in one, we turn to another, and there is always a new toy to turn to. We turn to something in order to acquire; there is acquisition in pleasure, in knowledge, in fame, in power, in efficiency, in having a family, and so on. When there is nothing further to acquire in one religion, in one saviour, we lose interest and turn to another. Some go to sleep in an organization and never wake up, and those who do wake up put them selves to sleep again by joining another. This acquisitive movement is called expansion of thought, progress. "Is interest always acquisition?" Actually, are you interested in anything which doesn't give you something, whether it be a play, a game, a conversation, a book, or a person? If a painting doesn't give you something, you pass it by; if a person doesn't stimulate or disturb you in some way, if there is no pleasure or pain in a particular relationship, you lose interest, you get bored. Haven't you noticed this? "Yes, but I have never before looked at it in this way." You wouldn't have come here if you didn't want something. You want to be free of boredom. As I cannot give you that freedom, you will get bored again; but if we can together understand the process of acquisition, of interest, of boredom, then perhaps there will be freedom. Freedom cannot be acquired. If you acquire it, you will soon be bored with it. Does not acquisition dull the mind? Acquisition, positive or negative, is a burden. As soon as you acquire you lose interest. In trying to possess, you are alert, interested; but possession is boredom. You may want to possess more, but the pursuit of more is only a movement towards boredom. You try various forms of acquisition, and as long as there is the effort to acquire, there is interest; but there is always an end to acquisition, and so there is always boredom. Isn't this what has been happening? "I suppose it is, but I haven't grasped the full significance of it." That will come presently. Possessions make the mind weary. Acquisition, whether of knowledge, of property, of virtue, makes for insensitivity. The nature of the mind is to acquire, to absorb, is it not? Or rather,the pattern it has created for itself is one of gathering in; and in that very activity the mind is preparing its own weariness, boredom. Interest, curiosity, is the beginning of acquisition, which soon becomes boredom; and the urge to be free from boredom is another form of possession. So the mind goes from boredom to interest to boredom again, till it is utterly weary; and these successive waves of interest and weariness are regarded as existence. "But how is one to be free from acquiring without further acquisition?" Only by allowing the truth of the whole process of acquisition to be experienced, and not by trying to be non-acquisitive, detached. To be non-acquisitive is another form of acquisition which soon becomes wearisome. The difficulty, if one may use that word, lies, not in the verbal understanding of what has been said, but in experiencing the false as the false. To see the truth in the false is the beginning of wisdom. The difficulty is for the mind to be still; for the mind is always worried, it is always after something, acquiring or denying, searching and finding. The mind is never still, it is in continuous movement. The past, over shadowing the present, makes its own future. It is a movement in time, and there is hardly ever an interval between thoughts. One thought follows another without a pause; the mind is ever making itself sharp and so wearing itself out. If a pencil is being sharpened all the time, soon there will be nothing left of it; similarly, the mind uses itself constantly and is exhausted. The mind is always afraid of coming to an end. But, living is ending from day to day; it is the dying to all acquisition, to memories, to experiences, to the past. How can there be living if there is experience? Experience is knowledge, memory; and is memory the state of experiencing? In the state of experiencing, is there memory as the experiencer? The purgation of the mind is having, is creation. Beauty is in experiencing,not in experience; for experience is ever of the past, and the past is not the experiencing, it is not the living. The purgation of the mind is tranquillity of heart. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES II CHAPTER 7 'DISCIPLINE' WE HAD DRIVEN through heavy traffic, and presently we turned off the main road into a sheltered lane. Leaving the car, we followed a path that wove through palm groves and along a field of green ripening rice. How lovely was that long, curving rice field, bordered by the tall palms! It was a cool evening, and a breeze was stirring among the trees with their heavy foliage. Unexpectedly, round a bend, there was a lake. It was long, narrow and deep, and on both sides of it the palms stood so close together as to be almost impenetrable. The breeze was playing with the water, and there was murmuring along the shore. Some boys were bathing, naked, unashamed and free. Their bodies were glistening and beautiful, well formed, slender and supple. They would swim out into the middle of the lake, then come back and start again. The path led on past a village, and on the way back the full moon made deep shadows; the boys had gone, the moonlight was upon the waters, and the palms were like white columns in the shadowy dark. He had come from some distance, and was eager to find out how to subdue the mind. He said that he had deliberately withdrawn from the world and was living very simply with some relatives, devoting his time to the overcoming of the mind. He had practiced a certain discipline for a number of years, but his mind was still not under control; it was always ready to wander off, like an animal on a leash. He had starved himself, but that did not help; he had experimented with his diet, and that had helped a little, but there was never any peace. His mind was forever throwing up images, conjuring up past scenes, sensations and incidents; or it would think of how it would be quiet tomorrow. But tomorrow never came, and the whole process became quite nightmarish. On very rare occasions the mind was quiet, but the quietness soon became a memory, a thing of the past. What is overcome must be conquered again and again. Suppression is a form of overcoming, as are substitution and sublimation. To desire to conquer is to give birth to further conflict. Why do you want to conquer, to calm the mind? "I have always been interested in religious matters; I have studied various religions, and they all say that to know God the mind must be still. Ever since I can remember I have always wanted to find God, the pervading beauty of the world, the beauty of the rice field and the dirty village. I had a very promising career, had been abroad and all that kind of thing; but one morning I just walked out to find that stillness. I heard what you said about it the other day, and so I have come." To find God, you try to subdue the mind. But is calmness of mind a way to God? Is calmness the coin which will open the gates of heaven? You want to buy your way to God to truth, or what name you will. Can you buy the eternal through virtue, through renunciation, through mortification? We think that if we do certain things, practice virtue, pursue chastity, withdraw from the world, we shall be able to measure the measureless; so it's just a bargain, isn't it? Your `virtue' is a means to an end. "But discipline is necessary to curb the mind, otherwise there is no peace. I have just not disciplined it sufficiently; it's my fault, not the fault of the discipline." Discipline is a means to an end. But the end is the unknown. Truth is the unknown, it cannot be known; if it is known, it is not truth. If you can measure the immeasurable, then it is not. Our measurement is the word, and the word is not the real. Discipline is the means; but the means and the end are not two dissimilar things, are they? Surely, the end and the means are one; the means is the end, the only end; there is no goal apart from the means. Violence as a means to peace is only the perpetuation of violence The means is all that matters, and not the end; the end is determined by the means; the end is not separate, away from the means. "I will listen and try to understand what you are saying. When I don't, I will ask." You use discipline, control, as a means to gain tranquillity, do you not? Discipline implies conformity to a pattern; you control in order to be this or that. Is not discipline, in its very nature, violence? It may give you pleasure to discipline yourself, but is not that very pleasure a form of resistance which only breeds further conflict? Is not the practice of discipline the cultivation of defence? And what is defended is always attacked. Does not discipline imply the suppression of what is in order to achieve a desired end? Suppression, substitution and sublimation only increase effort and bring about further conflict. You may succeed in suppressing a disease, but it will continue to appear in different forms until it is eradicated. Discipline is the suppression, the overcoming of what is. Discipline is a form of violence; so through a`wrong' means we hope to gain the `right' end. Through resistance, how can there be the free, the true? Freedom is at the beginning, not at the end; the goal is the first step the means is the end. The first step must be free, and not the last. Discipline implies compulsion, subtle or brutal, outward or self-imposed; and where there is compulsion, there is fear. Fear, compulsion, is used as a means to an end, the end being love. Can there be love through fear? Love is when there is no fear at any level. "But without some kind of compulsion, some kind of conformity, how can the mind function at all?" The very activity of the mind is a barrier to its own understanding. Have you never noticed that there is understanding only when the mind, as thought, is not functioning? Understanding comes with the ending of the thought process, in the interval between two thoughts. You say the mind must be still, and yet you desire it to function. If we can be simple in watchfulness, we shall understand; but our approach is so complex that it prevents understanding. Surely, we are not concerned with discipline, control, suppression, resistance, but with the process and the ending of thought itself. What do we mean when we say that the mind wanders? Simply that thought is everlastingly enticed from one attraction to another, from one association to another, and is inconstant agitation. Is it possible for thought to come to an end? "That is exactly my problem. I want to end thought. I can see now the futility of discipline; I really see the falseness, the stupidity of it, and I won't pursue that line any more. But how can I end thought?" Again, listen without prejudice, without interposing any conclusions, either your own or those of another; listen to understand and not merely to refute or accept. You ask how you can put an end to thought. Now, are you, the thinker, an entity separate from your thoughts? Are you entirely dissimilar from your thoughts? Are you not your own thoughts? Thought may place the thinker at a very high level and give a name to him, separate him from itself; yet the thinker is still within the process of thought, is he not? There is only thought, and thought creates the thinker; thought gives form to the thinker as a permanent, separate entity. Thought sees itself to be impermanent, in constant flux, so it breeds the thinker as a permanent entity apart and dissimilar from itself. Then the thinker operates on thought; the thinker says, "I must put an end to thought". But there is only the process of thinking, there is no thinker apart from thought. The experiencing of this truth is vital, it is not a mere repetition of phrases. There are only thoughts, and not a thinker who thinks thoughts. "But how did thought arise originally?" Through perception, contact, sensation, desire and identification; `I want', `I don't want', and so on. That is fairly simple, is it not? Our problem is, how can thought end? Any form of compulsion, conscious or unconscious, is utterly futile, for it implies a controller, one who disciplines; and such an entity, as we see, is nonexistent. Discipline is a process of condemnation, comparison, or justification; and when it is clearly seen that there is no separate entity as the thinker, the one who disciplines, then there are only thoughts, the process of thinking. Thinking is the response of memory, of experience, of the past. This again must be perceived, not on the verbal level, but there must be an experi-cencing of it. then only is there passive watchfulness in which the thinker is not, an awareness in which thought is entirely absent. The mind, the totality of experience, the self-consciousness which is ever in the past, is quiet only when it is not projecting itself; and this projection is the desire to become. The mind is empty only when thought is not. Thought cannot come to an end save through passive watchfulness of every thought. In this awareness there is no watcher and no censor; without the censor, there is only experiencing. In experiencing there is neither the experiencer nor the experienced. The experienced is the thought, which gives birth to the thinker. Only when the mind is experiencing is there stillness, the silence which is not made up, put together; and only in that tranquillity can the real come into being. Reality is not of time and is not measurable. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES II CHAPTER 8 'CONFLICT--FREEDOM--RELATIONSHIP' "THE CONFLICT BETWEEN thesis and antithesis is inevitable and necessary; it brings about synthesis, from which again there is a thesis with its corresponding antithesis, and so on. There is no end to conflict, and it is only through conflict that there can ever be any growth, any advance." Does conflict bring about a comprehension of our problems? Does it lead to growth, advancement? It may bring about secondary improvements, but is not conflict in its very nature a factor of disintegration? Why do you insist that conflict is essential? "We all know there is conflict at every level of our existence, so why deny or be blind to it?" One is not blind to the constant strife within and without; but if I may ask, why do you insist that it is essential? "Conflict cannot be denied, it is part of the human structure, and we use it as a means to an end, the end being the right environment for the individual. We work towards that goal and use every means to bring it about. Ambition, conflict, is the way of man, and it can be used either against him or for him. Through conflict we move to greater things." What do you mean by conflict? Conflict between what? "Between what has been and what will be." The `what will be' is the further response of what has been and is. By conflict we mean the struggle between two opposing ideas. But is opposition in any form conducive to understanding? When is there understanding of any problem? "There is class conflict, national conflict, and ideological conflict. Conflict is opposition, resistance due to ignorance of certain fundamental historical facts. Through opposition there is growth, there is progress, and this whole process is life." We know there is conflict at all the different levels of life, and it would be foolish to deny it. But is this conflict essential? We have so far assumed that it is, or have justified it with cunning reason. In nature, the significance of conflict may be quite different; among the animals, conflict as we know it may not exist at all. But to us, conflict has become a factor of enormous importance. Why has it become so significant in our lives? Competition, ambition, the effort to be or not to be, the will to achieve, and soon - all this is part of conflict. Why do we accept conflict as being essential to existence? This does not imply, on the other hand, that we should accept indolence. But why do we tolerate conflict within and without? Is conflict essential to understanding, to there solution of a problem? Should we not investigate rather than assert or deny? Should we not attempt to find the truth of the matter rather than hold to our conclusions and opinions? "How can there be progress from one form of society to another without conflict? The `haves' will never voluntarily give up their wealth, they must be forced, and this conflict will bring about a new social order, a new way of life. This cannot be done pacifically. We may not want to be violent, but we have to face facts." You assume that you know what the new society should be, and that the other fellow does not; you alone have this extraordinary knowledge, and you are willing to liquidate those who stand in your way. By this method, which you think is essential, you only bring about opposition and hate. What you know is merely another form of prejudice, a different kind of conditioning. Your historical studies, or those of your leaders, are interpreted according to a particular background which determines your response; and this response you call the new approach, the new ideology. All response of thought is conditioned, and to bring about a revolution based on thought or idea is to perpetuate a modified form of what was. You are essentially reformers, and not real revolutionaries. Reformation and revolution based on idea are retrogressive factors in society. You said, did you not, that the contact between thesis and antithesis is essential, and that this conflict of opposites produces a synthesis? "Conflict between the present society and its opposite, through the pressure of historical events and so on, will eventually bring about a new social order." Is the opposite different or dissimilar from what is? How does the opposite come into being? Is it not a modified projection of what is? Has not the antithesis the elements of its own thesis? The one is not wholly different or dissimilar from the other, and the synthesis is still a modified thesis. Though periodically coated a different colour, though modified, reformed, reshaped according to circumstances and pressures, the thesis is always the thesis. The conflict between the opposites is utterly wasteful and stupid. Intellectually or verbally you can prove or disprove anything, but that cannot alter certain obvious facts. The present society is based on individual acquisitiveness; and its opposite, with the resulting synthesis, is what you call the new society. In your new society, individual acquisitiveness is opposed by State acquisitiveness, the State being the rulers; the State is now all-important, and not the individual. From this antithesis you say there will eventually be a synthesis in which all individuals are important. This future is imaginary, an ideal; it is the projection of thought, and thought is always the response of memory, of conditioning. It is really a vicious circle with no way out. This conflict, this struggling within the cage of thought, is what you call progress. "Do you say, then, that we must stay as we are, with all the exploitation and corruption of the present society?" Not at all. But your revolution is no revolution, it is only a change of power from one group to another, the substitution of one class for another. Your revolution is merely a different structure built of the same material and within the same underlying pattern. There is a radical revolution which is not a conflict, which is not based on thought with its ego-made projections, ideals, dogmas, Utopias; but as long as we think in terms of changing this into that, of becoming more or becoming less, of achieving an end, there cannot be this fundamental revolution. "Such a revolution is an impossibility. Are you seriously proposing it?" It is the only revolution, the only fundamental transformation. "How do you propose to bring it about?" By seeing the false as the false; by seeing the truth in the false. Obviously, there must be a fundamental revolution in man's relationship to man; we all know that things cannot go on as they are without increasing sorrow and disaster. But all reformers, like the so-called revolutionaries, have an end in view, a goal to be achieved, and both use man as a means to their own ends. The use of man for a purpose is the real issue, and not the attainment of a particular end. You cannot separate the end from the means, for they are a single, inseparable process. The means is the end; there can be no classless society through the means of class conflict. The results of using wrong means for a so-called right end are fairly obvious. There can be no peace through war, or through being prepared for war. All opposites are self-projected; the ideal is a reaction from what is, and the conflict to achieve the ideal is a vain and illusory struggle within the cage of thought. Through this conflict there is no release, no freedom for man. Without freedom, there can be no happiness; and freedom is not an ideal. Freedom is the only means to freedom. As long as man is psychologically or physically used, whether in the name of God or of the State, there will be a society based on violence. Using man for a purpose is a trick employed by the politician and the priest, and it denies relationship. "What do you mean by that?" When we use each other for our mutual gratification, can there be any relationship between us? When you use another for your comfort, as you use a piece of furniture, are you related to that person? Are you related to the furniture? You may call it yours, and that is all; but you have no relationship with it. Similarly, when you use another for your psychological or physical advantage, you generally call that person yours, you possess him or her; and is possession relationship? The State uses the individual and calls him its citizen; but it has no relationship with the individual, it merely uses him as a tool. A tool is a dead thing, and there can be no relationship with that which is dead. When we use man for a purpose, however noble, we want him as an instrument, a dead thing. We cannot use a living thing, so our demand is for dead things; our society is based on the use of dead things. The use of another makes that person the dead instrument of our gratification. Relationship can exist only between the living, and usage is a process of isolation. It is this isolating process that breeds conflict, antagonism between man and man. "Why do you lay so much emphasis on relationship?" Existence is relationship; to be is to be related. Relationship is society. The structure of our present society, being based on mutual use, bring about violence, destruction and misery; and if the so-called revolutionary State does not fundamentally alter this usage, it can only produce, perhaps at a different level, still further conflict, confusion and antagonism. As long as we psychologically need and use each other, there can be no relationship. Relationship is communion; and how can there be communion if there is exploitation? Exploitation implies fear, and fear inevitably leads to all kinds of illusions and misery. Conflict exists only in exploitation and not in relationship. Conflict, opposition, enmity exists between us when there is the use of another as a means of pleasure, of achievement. This conflict obviously cannot be resolved by using it as a means to a self-projected goal; and all ideals, all Utopias are self-projected. To see this is essential, for then we shall experience the truth that conflict in any form destroys relationship, understanding. There is understanding only when the mind is quiet; and the mind is not quiet when it is held in any ideology, dogma or belief, or when it is bound to the pattern of its own experience, memories. The mind is not quiet when it is acquiring or becoming. All acquisition is conflict; all becoming is a process of isolation. The mind is not quiet when it is disciplined, controlled and checked; such a mind is a dead mind, it is isolating itself through various forms of resistance, and so it inevitably creates misery for itself and for others. The mind is quiet only when it is not caught in thought, which is the net of its own activity. When the mind is still, not made still, a true factor, love, comes into being. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES II CHAPTER 9 'EFFORT' IT BEGAN TO rain gently enough, but suddenly it was as though the heavens had opened and there was a deluge. In the street the water was almost knee-deep, and it was well over the pavement. There was not a flutter among the leaves, and they too were silent in their surprise. A car passed by and then stalled, water having gotten into its essential parts. People were wading across the street, soaked to the skin, but they were enjoying this down-pour. The garden beds were being washed out and the lawn was covered with several inches of brown water. A dark blue bird with fawn-colored wings was trying to take shelter among the thick leaves, but it got wetter and wetter and shook itself so often. The downpour lasted for some time, and then stopped as suddenly as it had begun. All things were washed clean. How simple it is to be innocent! Without innocence, it is impossible to be happy. The pleasure of sensations is not the happiness of innocence. Innocence is freedom from the burden of experience. It is the memory of experience that corrupts, and not the experiencing itself. Knowledge, the burden of the past, is corruption. The power to accumulate, the effort to become destroys innocence; and without innocence, how can there be wisdom? The merely curious can never know wisdom; they will find, but what they find will not be truth. The suspicious can never know happiness, for suspicion is the anxiety of their own being, and fear breeds corruption. Fearlessness is not courage but freedom from accumulation. "I have spared no effort to get somewhere in the world, and have become a very successful moneymaker; my efforts in that direction have produced the results I wanted. I have also tried hard to make a happy affair of my family life, but you know how it is. Family life is not the same as making money or running an industry. One deals with human beings in business, but it is at a different level. At home there is a great deal of friction with very little to show for it, and one's efforts in this field only seem to increase the mess. I am not complaining, for that is not my nature, but the marriage system is all wrong. We marry to satisfy your sexual urges, without really knowing anything about each other; and though we live in the same house and occasionally and deliberately produce a child, we are like strangers to each other, and the tension that only married people know is always there. I have done what I think is my duty, but it has not produced the best results, to put it mildly. We are both dominant and aggressive people, and it is not easy. Our efforts to cooperate have not brought about a deep companionship between us. Though I am very interested in psychological matters, it has not been of great help, and I want to go much more deeply into this problem." The sun had come out, the birds were calling, and the sky was clear and blue after the storm. What do you mean by effort? "To strive after something. I have striven after money and position, and I have won both. I have also striven to have a happy family life, but this has not been very successful; so now I am struggling after something deeper." We struggle with an end in view; we strive after achievement; we make a constant effort to become something, positively or negatively. The struggle is always to be secure in some way, it is always towards something or away from something. Effort is really an endless battle to acquire, is it not? "Is it wrong to acquire?" We shall go into that presently; but what we call effort is this constant process of travelling and arriving, of acquiring in different directions. We get tired of one kind of acquisition, and turn to another; and when that is gathered, we again turn to something else. Effort is a process of gathering knowledge, experience, efficiency, virtue, possessions, power, and so on; it is an end less becoming, expanding, growing. Effort towards an end, whether worthy or unworthy, must always bring conflict; conflict is antagonism, opposition, resistance. Is that necessary? "Necessary to what?" Let us find out. Effort at the physical level may be necessary; the effort to build a bridge, to produce petroleum, coal, and soon, is or may be beneficial; but how the work is done, how things are produced and distributed, how profits are divided, is quite another matter. If at the physical level man is used for an end, for an ideal, whether by private interests or by the State, effort only produces more confusion and misery. Effort to acquire for the individual, for the State, or for a religious organization, is bound to breed opposition. Without understanding this striving after acquisition, effort at the physical level will inevitably have a disastrous effect on society. Is effort at the psychological level - the effort to be, to achieve, to succeed - necessary or beneficial? "If we made no such effort, would we not just rot, disintegrate?" Would we? So far, what have we produced through effort at the psychological level? "Not very much, I admit. Effort has been in the wrong direction. The direction matters, and rightly directed effort is of the greatest significance. It is because of the lack of right effort that we are in such a mess." So you say there is right effort and wrong effort, is that it? Do not let us quibble over words, but how do you distinguish between right and wrong effort? According to what criterion do you judge? What is your standard? Is it tradition, or is it the future ideal, the `ought to be'? "My criterion is determined by what brings results. It is the result that is important, and without the enticement of a goal we would make no effort." If the result is your measure, then surely you are not concerned with the means; or are you? "I will use the means according to the end. If the end is happiness, then a happy means must be found." Is not the happy means the happy end? The end is in the means, is it not? So there is only the means. The means itself is the end, the result. "I have never before looked at it this way, but I see that it is so." We are inquiring into what is the happy means. If effort produces conflict, opposition within and without, can effort ever lead to happiness? If the end is in the means, how can there be happiness through conflict and antagonism? If effort produces more problems, more conflict, it is obviously destructive and disintegrating. And why do we make effort? Do we not make effort to be more, to advance, to gain? Effort is for more in one direction, and for less in another. Effort implies acquisition for oneself or for a group, does it not? "Yes, that is so. Acquiring for oneself is at another level the acquisitiveness of the State or the church." Effort is acquisition, negative or positive. What is it, then, that we are acquiring? At one level we acquire the physical necessities, and at another we use these as a means of self-aggrandizement; or, being satisfied with a few physical necessities, we acquire power, position, fame. The rulers, the representatives of the State, may live outwardly simple lives and possess but few things, but they have acquired power and so they resist and dominate. "Do you think all acquisition is baneful?" Let us see. Security, which is having the essential physical needs, is one thing, and acquisitiveness is another. It is acquisitiveness in the name of race or country, in the name of God, or in the name of the individual, that is destroying the sensible and efficient organization of physical necessities for the well being of man. We must all have adequate food, clothing and shelter, that is simple and clear. Now, what is it that we are seeking to acquire, apart from these things? One acquires money as a means to power, to certain social and psychological gratifications, as a means to the freedom to do what one wants to do. One struggles to attain wealth and position in order to be powerful in various ways; and having succeeded in outer things, one now wants to be successful, as you say, with regard to inner things. What do we mean by power? To be powerful is to dominate, to overcome, to suppress, to feel superior, to be efficient, and soon. Consciously or unconsciously the ascetic as well as the worldly person feels and strives for this power. power is one of the completest expressions of the self, whether it be the power of knowledge, the power over oneself, worldly power, or the power of abstinence. The feeling; of power, of domination, is extraordinarily gratifying. You may seek gratification through power, another through drink, another through worship, another through knowledge, and still another through trying to be virtuous. Each may have its own particular sociological and psychological effect, but all acquisition is gratification. Gratification at any level is sensation, is it not? We are making effort to acquire greater or more subtle varieties of sensation, which at one time we call experience, at another knowledge, at another love, at another the search for God or truth; and there is the sensation of being righteous, or of being the efficient agent of an ideology. Effort is to acquire gratification, which is sensation. You have found gratification at one level, and now you are seeking it at another; and when you have acquired it there, you will move to another level, and so keep going. This constant desire for gratification for more and more subtle forms of sensation, is called progress, but it is ceaseless conflict. The search after ever wider gratification is without end, and so there is no end to conflict antagonism, and hence no happiness. "I see your point. You are saying that the search for gratification in any form is really the search for misery. Effort towards gratification is everlasting pain. But what is one to do? Give up seeking gratification and just stagnate?" If one does not seek gratification, is stagnation inevitable? Is the state of non-anger necessarily a lifeless state? Surely, gratification at any level is sensation. Refinement of sensation is only the refinement of word. The word, the term, the symbol, the image, plays an extraordinarily important part in our lives, does it not? We may no longer seek the touch, the satisfaction of physical contact, but the word, the image becomes very significant. At one level we gather gratification through crude means, and at another through means that are more subtle and refined; but the gathering of words is for the same purpose as the gathering of things, is it not? Why do we gather? "Oh, I suppose it is because we are so discontented, so utterly bored with ourselves, that we will do anything to get away from our own shallowness. That is really so - and it just strikes me that I am exactly in that position. This is rather extraordinary!" Our acquisitions are a means of covering up our own emptiness; our minds are like hollow drums, beaten upon by every passing hand and making a lot of noise. This is our life, the conflict of never-satisfying escapes and mounting misery. It is strange how we are never alone, never strictly alone. We are always with something with a problem, with a book, with a person; and when we are alone, our thoughts are with us. To be alone, naked, is essential. All escapes, all gatherings, all effort to be or not to be, must cease; and then only is there the aloneness that can receive the alone, the measureless. "How is one to stop escaping?" By seeing the truth that all escapes only lead to illusion and misery. The truth frees; you cannot do anything about it. Your very action to stop escaping is another escape. The highest state of inaction is the action of truth. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES II CHAPTER 10 'DEVOTION AND WORSHIP' A MOTHER WAS beating her child, and there were painful screams. The mother was very angry, and while she was beating she was talking to it violently. When presently we came back she was caressing the child, hugging as though she would squeeze the life out of it. She had tears in her eyes. The child was rather bewildered, but was smiling up at the mother. Love is a strange thing, and how easily we lose the warm flame of it! The flame is lost, and the smoke remains. The smoke fills our hearts and minds, and our days are spent in tears and bitterness. The song is forgotten, and the words have lost their meaning; the perfume has gone, and our hands are empty. We never know how to keep the flame clear of smoke, and the smoke always smothers the flame. But love is not of the mind, it is not in the net of thought, it cannot be sought out, cultivated, cherished; it is there when the mind is silent and the heart is empty of the things of the mind. The room overlooked the river, and the sun was upon its waters. He was by no means foolish, but was full of emotion, an exuberant sentiment in which he must have taken delight, for it seemed to give him great pleasure. He was eager to talk; and when a green golden bird was pointed out to him, he turned on his sentiment and gushed over it. Then he talked of the beauty of the river, and sang a song about it. He had a pleasant voice, but the room was too small. The green-golden bird was joined by another, and the two sat very close together, preening themselves. "Is not devotion a way to God? Is not the sacrifice of devotion the purification of the heart? Is not devotion an essential part of our life?" What do you mean by devotion? "Love of the highest; the offering of a flower before the image, the symbol of God. Devotion is complete absorption, it is a love that excels the love of the flesh. I have sat for many hours at a time, completely lost in the love of God. In that state I am nothing and I know nothing. In that state all life is a unity, the sweeper and the king are one. It is a wondrous state. Surely you must know it." Is devotion love? Is it something apart from our daily existence? Is it an act of sacrifice to be devoted to an object, to knowledge, to service, or to action? Is it self-sacrifice when you are lost in your devotion? When you have completely identified yourself with the object of your devotion, is that self-abnegation? Is it selflessness to lose yourself in a book, in a chant, in an idea? Is devotion the worship of an image, of a person, of a symbol? Has reality any symbol? Can a symbol ever represent truth? Is not the symbol static, and can a static thing ever represent that which is living? Is your picture you? Let us see what we mean by devotion. You spend several hours a day in what you call the love, the contemplation of God. Is that devotion? The man who gives his life to social betterment is devoted to his work; and the general, whose job is to plan destruction, is also devoted to his work. Is that devotion? If I may say so, you spend your time being intoxicated by the image or idea of God, and others do the same thing in a different way. Is there a fundamental distinction between the two? Is it devotion that has an object? "But this worship of God consumes my whole life. I am not aware of anything but God. He fills my heart." And the man who worships his work, his leader, his ideology, is also consumed by that with which he is occupied. You fill your heart with the word `God', and another with activity; and is that devotion? You are happy with your image your symbol, and another with his books or music; and is that devotion? Is it devotion to lose oneself in something? A man is devoted to his wife for various gratifying reasons; and is gratification devotion? To identify oneself with one's country is very intoxicating; and is identification devotion? "But giving myself over to God does nobody any harm. On the contrary, I both keep out of harm's way and do no harm to others." That at least is something; but though you may not do any outward harm, is not illusion harmful at a deeper level both to you and to society? "I am not interested in society. My needs are very few; I have controlled my passions and I spend my days in the shadow of God." Is it not important to find out if that shadow has any substance behind it? To worship illusion is to cling to one's own gratification; to yield to appetite at any level is to be lustful. "You are very disturbing, and I am not at all sure that I want to go on with this conversation. You see, I came to worship at the same altar as yourself; but I find that your worship is entirely different, and what you say is beyond me. But I would like to know what is the beauty of your worship. You have no pictures, no images, and no rituals, but you must worship. Of what nature is your worship?" The worshipper is the worshipped. To worship another is to worship oneself; the image, the symbol, is a projection of oneself. After all, your idol, your book, your prayer, is the reflection of your background; it is your creation, though it be made by another. You choose according to your gratification; your choice is your prejudice. Your image is your intoxicant, and it is carved out of your own memory; you are worshipping yourself through the image created by your own thought. Your devotion is the love of yourself covered over by the chant of your mind. The picture is yourself, it is the reflection of your mind. Such devotion is a form of self-deception that only leads to sorrow and to isolation, which is death. Is search devotion? To search after something is not to search; to seek truth is not to find it. We escape from ourselves through search, which is illusion; we try in every way to take flight from what we are. In ourselves we are so petty, so essentially nothing, and the worship of something greater than ourselves is as petty and stupid as we are. Identification with the great is still a projection of the small. The more is an extension of the less. The small in search of the large will find only what it is capable of finding. The escapes are many and various but the mind in escape is still fearful, narrow and ignorant. The understanding of escape is the freedom from what is. The what is can be understood only when the mind is no longer in search of an answer. The search for an answer is an escape from what is. This search is called by various names, one of which is devotion; but to understand what is, the mind must be silent. "What do you mean by `what is`?" The what is is that which is from moment to moment. To understand the whole process of your worship, of your devotion to that which you call God, is the awareness of what is. But you do not desire to understand what is; for your escape from what is, which you call devotion, is a source of greater pleasure, and so illusion becomes of greater significance than reality. The understanding of what is does not depend upon thought, for thought itself is an escape. To think about the problem is not to understand it. It is only when the mind is silent that the truth of what is unfolds. "I am content with what I have. I am happy with my God, with my chant and my devotion. Devotion to God is the song of my heart, and my happiness is in that song. Your song may be more clear and open, but when I sing my heart is full. What more can a man ask than to have a full heart? We are brothers in my song, and I am not disturbed by your song." When the song is real there is neither you nor I, but only the silence of the eternal. The song is not the sound but the silence. Do not let the sound of your song fill your heart. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES II CHAPTER 11 'INTEREST' HE WAS A school principal with several college degrees. He had been very keenly interested in education, and had also worked hard for various kinds of social reform; but now, he said, though still quite young, he had lost the spring of life. He carried on with his duties almost mechanically, going through the daily routine with weary boredom; there was no longer any zest in what he did, and the drive which he had once felt was completely gone. He had been religiously inclined and had striven to bring about certain reforms in his religion, but that too had dried up. He saw no value in any particular action. Why? "All action leads to confusion, creating more problems, more mischief. I have tried to act with thought and intelligence, but it invariably leads to some kind of mess; the several activities in which I have engaged have all made me feel depressed, anxious and weary, and they have led nowhere. Now I am afraid to act, and the fear of doing more harm than good has caused me to withdraw from all save the minimum of action." What is the cause of this fear? Is it the fear of doing harm? Are you withdrawing from life because of the fear of bringing about more confusion? Are you afraid of the confusion that you might create, or of the confusion within yourself? If you were clear within yourself and from that clarity there were action, would you then be fearful of any outward confusion which your action might create? Are you afraid of the confusion within or without? "I have not looked at it in this way before, and I must consider what you say." Would you mind bringing about more problems if you were clear in yourself? We like to run away from our problems, by whatever means, and thereby we only increase them. To expose our problems may appear confusing, but the capacity to meet the problems depends on the clarity of approach. If you were clear, would your actions be confusing? "I am not clear. I don't know what I want to do. I could join some ism of the left or of the right but that would not bring about clarity of action. One may shut one's eyes to the absurdities of a particular ism and work for it, but the fact remains that there is essentially more harm than good in the action of all isms. If I were very clear within myself, I would meet the problems and try to clear them up. But I am not clear. I have lost all incentive for action." Why have you lost incentive? Have you lost it in the over expenditure of limited energy? Have you exhausted yourself in doing things that have no fundamental interest for you? Or is it that you have not yet found out what you are genuinely interested in? "You see, after college I was very keen on social reform, and I ardently worked at it for some years; but I began to see the pettiness of it, so I dropped it and took up education. I really worked hard at education for a number of years, not caring for anything else; but that too I finally dropped because I was getting more and more confused. I was ambitious, not for myself, but for the work to succeed; but the people with whom I worked were always quarrelling, they were jealous and personally ambitious." Ambition is an odd thing. You say you were not ambitious for yourself, but only for the work to succeed. Is there any difference between personal and so-called impersonal ambition? You would not consider it personal or petty to identify yourself with an ideology and work ambitiously for it; you would call that a worthy ambition, would you not? But is it? Surely, you have only substituted one term for another, `impersonal' for `personal; but the drive, the motive is still the same. You want success for the work with which you are identified. For the term `I' you have substituted the term `work', `system', `country', `God', but you are still important. Ambition is still at work, ruthless, jealous, feudal. Is it because the work was not successful that you dropped it? Would you have carried on if it had been? "I don't think that was it. The work was fairly successful, as any work is if one gives time, energy and intelligence to it. I gave it up because it led nowhere; it brought about some temporary alleviation, but there was no fundamental and lasting change." You had the drive when you were working, and what has happened to it? What has happened to the urge, the flame? Is that the problem? "Yes, that is the problem. I had the flame once, but now it is gone." Is it dormant, or is it burnt out through wrong usage so that only ashes are left? Perhaps you have not found your real interest. Do you feel frustrated? Are you married? "No, I do not think I am frustrated, nor do I feel the need of a family or of the companionship of a particular person. Economically I am content with little. I have always been drawn to religion in the deep sense of the word, but I suppose I wanted to be `successful' in that field too." If you are not frustrated, why aren't you content just to live? "I am not getting any younger, and I don't want to rot, to vegetate." Let us put the problem differently. What are you interested in? Not what you should be interested in, but actually? "I really don't know." Aren't you interested in finding out? "But how am I to find out?" Do you think there is a method, a way to find out what you are interested in? It is really important to discover for yourself in what direction your interest lies. So far you have tried certain things, you have given your energy and intelligence to them, but they have not deeply satisfied you. Either you have burnt yourself out doing things that were not of fundamental interest to you, or your real interest is still dormant, waiting to be awakened. Now which is it? "Again, I don't know. Can you help me to find out?" Don't you want to know for yourself the truth of the matter? If you have burnt yourself out, the problem demands a certain approach; but if your fire is still dormant, then the awakening of it is important. Now which is it? Without my telling you which it is, don't you want to discover the truth of it for yourself? The truth of what is is its own action. If you are burnt out, then it is a matter of healing, recuperating; lying creatively fallow. This creative fallowness follows from the movement of cultivating and sowing; it is inaction for complete future action. Or it may be that your real interest has not yet been awakened. Please listen and find out. If the intention to find out is there, you will find out, not by constant inquiry, but by being clear and ardent in your intention. Then you will see that during the waking hours there is an alert watchfulness in which you are picking up every intimation of that latent interest, and that dreams also play a part. In other words, the intention sets going the mechanism of discovery. "But how am I to know which interest is the real one? I have had several interests, and they have all petered out. How do I know that what I may discover to be my real interest won't also peter out?" There is no guarantee, of course; but since you are aware of this petering out, there will be alert watchfulness to discover the real. If I may put it this way you are not seeking your real interest; but being in a passively watchful state, the real interest will show itself. If you try to find out what your real interest is, you will choose one as against another you will weigh, calculate, judge. This process only cultivates opposition; you spend your energies wondering if you have chosen rightly, and so on. But when there is passive awareness, and not a positive effort on your part to find, then into that awareness comes the movement of interest. Experiment with this and you will see. "If I am not too hasty, I think I am beginning to sense my genuine interest. There is a vital quickening, a new elan." COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES II CHAPTER 12 'EDUCATION AND INTEGRATION' IT WAS A beautiful evening. The sun was setting behind huge, black clouds, and against them stood a clump of tall, slender palms. The river had become golden, and the distant hills were aglow with the setting sun. There was thunder, but towards the mountains the sky was clear and blue. The cattle were coming back from pasture, and a little boy was driving them home. He couldn't have been more than ten or twelve, and though he had spent the whole day by himself, he was singing away and occasionally flicking the cattle that wandered off or were too slow. He smiled, and his dark face lit up. Stopping out of curiosity, and distantly eager, he began to ask questions. He was a village boy and would have no education; he would never be able to read and write, but he already knew what it was to be alone with himself. He did not know that he was alone; it probably never even occurred to him, nor was he depressed by it. He was just alone and contented. He was not contented with something, he was just contented. To be contented with something is to be discontented. To seek contentment through relationship is to be in fear. Contentment that depends on relationship is only gratification. Contentment is a state of non-dependency. Dependency always brings conflict and opposition. There must be freedom to be content. Freedom is and must always be at the beginning; it is not an end, a goal to be achieved. One can never be free in the future. Future freedom has no reality, it is only an idea. Reality is what is; and passive awareness of what is is contentment. The professor said he had been teaching for many years, ever since he graduated from college, and had a large number of boys under him in one of the governmental institutions. He turned out students who could pass examinations, which was what the government and the parents wanted. Of course, there were exceptional boys who were given special opportunities, granted scholarships, and so on, but the vast majority were indifferent, dull, lazy, and somewhat mischievous. There were those who made something of themselves in whatever field they entered, but only very few had the creative flame. During all the years he had taught, the exceptional boys had been very rare; now and then there would be one who perhaps had the quality of genius, but it generally happened that he too was soon smothered by his environment. As a teacher he had visited many parts of the world to study this question of the exceptional boy, and everywhere it was the same. He was now withdrawing from the teaching profession, for after all these years he was rather saddened by the whole thing. However well boys were educated, on the whole they turned out to be a stupid lot. Some were clever or assertive and attained high positions, but behind the screen of their prestige and domination they were as petty and anxiety-ridden as the rest. "The modern educational system is a failure, as it has produced two devastating wars and appalling misery. Learning to read and write and acquiring various techniques, which is the cultivation of memory, is obviously not enough, for it has produced unspeakable sorrow. What do you consider to be the end purpose of education?" Is it not to bring about an integrated individual? If that is the`purpose' of education, then we must be clear as to whether the individual exists for society or whether society exists for the individual. If society needs and uses the individual for its own purposes, then it is not concerned with the cultivation of an integrated human being; what it wants is an efficient machine, a conforming and respectable citizen, and this requires only a very superficial integration. As long as the individual obeys and is willing to be thoroughly conditioned, society will find him useful and will spend time and money on him. But if society exists for the individual, then it must help in freeing him from its own conditioning influence. It must educate him to be an integrated human being. "What do you mean by an integrated human being?" To answer that question one must approach it negatively, obliquely; one cannot consider its positive aspect. "I don't understand what you mean." Positively to state what an integrated human being is, only creates a pattern, a mould, an example which we try to imitate; and is not the imitation of a pattern, an indication of disintegration? When we try to copy an example, can there be integration? Surely, imitation is a process of disintegration; and is this not what is happening in the world? We are all becoming very good gramophone records; we repeat what so-called religions have taught us, or what the latest political, economic, or religious leader has said. We adhere to ideologies and attend political mass-meetings; there is mass-enjoyment of sport, mass-worship, mass-hypnosis. Is this a sign of integration? Conformity is not integration, is it? "This leads to the very fundamental question of discipline. Are you opposed to discipline?" What do you mean by discipline? "There are many forms of discipline: the discipline in a school, the discipline of citizenship the party discipline the social and religious disciplines and self-imposed discipline. Discipline may be according to an inner or an outer authority." Fundamentally, discipline implies some kind of conformity, does it not? It is conformity to an ideal, to an authority; it is the cultivation of resistance, which of necessity breeds opposition. Resistance is opposition. Discipline is a process of isolation, whether it is isolation with a particular group, or the isolation of individual resistance. Imitation is a form of resistance, is it not? "Do you mean that discipline destroys integration? What would happen if you had no discipline in a school?" Is it not important to understand the essential significance of discipline, and not jump to conclusions or take examples? We are trying to see what are the factors of disintegration, or what hinders integration. Is not discipline in the sense of conformity, resistance, opposition, conflict, one of the factors of disintegration? Why do we conform? Not only for physical security, but also for psychological comfort, safety. Consciously or unconsciously, the fear of being insecure makes for conformity both outwardly and inwardly. We must all have some kind of physical security; but it is the fear of being psychologically insecure that makes physical security impossible except for the few. Fear is the basis of all discipline: the fear of not being successful, of being punished, of not gaining, and so on. Discipline is imitation, suppression, resistance, and whether it is conscious or unconscious, it is the result of fear. Is not fear one of the factors of disintegration? "With what would you replace discipline? Without discipline there would be even greater chaos than now. Is not some form of discipline necessary for action?" Understanding the false as the false, seeing the true in the false, and seeing the true as the true, is the beginning of intelligence. It is not a question of replacement. You cannot replace fear with something else; if you do, fear is still there. You may successfully cover it up or run away from it, but fear remains. It is the elimination of fear, and not the finding of a substitute for it, that is important. Discipline in any form whatsoever can never bring freedom from fear. Fear has to be observed, studied, understood. Fear is not an abstraction; it comes into being only in relation to something, and it is this relationship that has to be understood. To understand is not to resist or oppose. Is not discipline, then, in its wider and deeper sense, a factor of disintegration? Is not fear, with its consequent imitation and suppression, a disintegrating force? "But how is one to be free from fear? In a class of many students, unless there is some kind of discipline - or, if you prefer, fear - how can there be order?" By having very few students and the right kind of education. This, of course, is not possible as long as the State is interested in mass-produced citizens. The State prefers mass-education; the rulers do not want the encouragement of discontent, for their position would soon be untenable. The State controls education,it steps in and conditions the human entity for its own purposes; and the easiest way to do this is through fear, through discipline, through punishment and reward, Freedom from fear is another matter; fear has to be understood and not resisted, suppressed, or sublimated. The problem of disintegration is quite complex, like every other human problem. Is not conflict another factor of disintegration? "But conflict is essential, otherwise we would stagnate. Without striving there would be no progress no advancement, no culture. Without effort, conflict, we would still be savages." Perhaps we still are. Why do we always jump to conclusions or oppose when something new is suggested? We are obviously savages when we kill thousands for some cause or other, for our country; killing another human being is the height of savagery. But let us get on with what we were talking about. Is not conflict a sign of disintegration? "What do you mean by conflict?" Conflict in every form: between husband and wife, between two groups of people with conflicting ideas, between what is and tradition, between what is and the ideal, the should be, the future. Conflict is inner and outer strife. At present there is con- flict at all the various levels of our existence, the conscious as well as the unconscious. Our life is a series of conflicts, a battleground - and for what? Do we understand through strife? Can I understand you if I am in conflict with you? To understand there must be a certain amount of peace. Creation can take place only in peace, in happiness, not when there is conflict, strife. Our constant struggle is between what is and what should be, between thesis and antithesis; we have accepted this conflict as inevitable, and the inevitable has become the norm, the true - though it maybe false. Can what is be transformed by the conflict with its opposite? I am this, and by struggling to be that, which is the opposite, have I changed this? Is not the opposite, the antithesis, a modified projection of what is? Has not the opposite always the elements of its own opposite? Through comparison is there understanding of what is? Is not any conclusion about what is a hindrance to the understanding of what is? If you would understand something, must you not observe it, study it? Can you study it freely if you are prejudiced in favour of or against it? If you would understand your son must you not study him, neither identifying yourself with nor condemning him? Surely, if you are in conflict with your son, there is no understanding of him. So, is conflict essential to understanding? "Is there not another kind of conflict, the conflict of learning how to do a thing, acquiring a technique? One may have an intuitive vision of something, but it has to be made manifest, and carrying it out is strife, it involves a great deal of trouble and pain." A certain amount, it is true; but is not creation itself the means? The means is not separate from the end; the end is according to the means. The expression is according to creation; the style is according to what you have to say. If you have something to say, that very thing creates its own style. But if one is merely a technician, then there is no vital problem. Is conflict in any field productive of understanding? Is there not a continuous chain of conflict in the effort, the will to be, to become, whether positive or negative? Does not the cause of conflict become the effect, which in its turn becomes the cause? There is no release from conflict until there is an understanding of what is. The what is can never be understood through the screen of idea; it must be approached afresh. As the what is is never static, the mind must not be bound to knowledge, to an ideology, to a belief, to a conclusion. In its very nature, conflict is separative as all opposition is; and is not exclusion, separation, a factor of disintegration? Any form of power, whether individual or of the State, any effort to become more or to become less, is a process of disintegration. All ideas, beliefs, systems of thought, are separative, exclusive. Effort, conflict, cannot under any circumstances bring understanding, and so it is a degenerating factor in the individual as well as in society. "What, then, is integration? I more or less understand what are the factors of disintegration, but that is only a negation. Through negation one cannot come to integration. I may know what is wrong, which does not mean that I know what is right." Surely, when the false is seen as the false, the true is. When one is aware of the factors of degeneration, not merely verbally but deeply, then is there not integration? Is integration static, something to be gained and finished with? Integration cannot be arrived at; arrival is death. It is not a goal, an end, but a state of being; it is a living thing, and how can a living thing be a goal, a purpose? The desire to be integrated is not different from another desire, and all desire is a cause of conflict. When there is no conflict, there is integration. Integration is a state of complete attention. There cannot be complete attention if there is effort, conflict, resistance, concentration. Concentration is a fixation; concentration is a process of separation, exclusion, and complete attention is not possible when there is exclusion. To exclude is to narrow down, and the narrow can never be aware of the complete. Complete, full attention is not possible when there is condemnation, justification or identification, or when the mind is clouded by conclusions, speculations, theories. When we understand the hindrances, then only is there freedom. Freedom is an abstraction to the man in prison; but passive watchfulness uncovers the hindrances, and with freedom from these, integration comes into being. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES II CHAPTER 13 'CHASTITY' THE RICE WAS ripening, the green had a golden tinge, and the evening sun was upon it. There were long, narrow ditches filled with water, and the water caught the darkening light. The palm trees hung over the rice fields all along their edge, and among the palms there were little houses, dark and secluded. The lane meandered lazily through the rice fields and palm groves. It was a very musical lane. A boy was playing the flute, with the rice field before him. He had a clean, healthy body, well-proportioned and delicate, and he wore only a clean white cloth around his loins; the setting sun had just caught his face, and his eyes were smiling. He was practicing the scale, and when he got tired of that, he would play a song. He was really enjoying it, and his enjoyment was contagious. Though I sat down only a little distance away from him, he never stopped playing. The evening light, the green-golden sea of the field, the sun among the palms, and this boy playing his flute, seemed to give to the evening an enchantment that is rarely felt. Presently he stopped playing and came over and sat beside me; neither of us said a word, but he smiled and it seemed to fill the heavens. His mother called from some house hidden among the palms; he did not respond immediately, but at the third call he got up, smiled, and went away. Further along the path a girl was singing to some stringed instrument, and she had a fairly nice voice. Across the field someone picked up the song and sang with full-throated ease, and the girl stopped and listened till the male voice had finished it. It was getting, dark now. The evening star was over the field, and the frogs began to call. How we want to possess the coconut, the woman, and the heavens! We want to monopolize, and things seem to acquire greater value through possession. When we say, `It is mine' the picture seems to become more beautiful, more worthwhile; it seems to acquire greater delicacy, greater depth and fullness.There is a strange quality of violence in possession. The moment one says, `It is mine', it becomes a thing to be cared for, defended, and in this very act there is a resistance which breeds violence. Violence is ever seeking success; violence is self-fulfilment. To succeed is always to fail. Arrival is death and travelling is eternal. To gain, to be victorious in this world, is to lose life. How eagerly we pursue an end! But the end is everlasting, and so is the conflict of its pursuit. Conflict is constant overcoming, and what is conquered has to be conquered again and again. The victor is ever in fear, and possession is his darkness. The defeated, craving victory, loses what is gained, and so he is as the victor. To have the bowl empty is to have life that is deathless. They had been married for only a short time and were still without a child. They seemed so young, so distant from the marketplace, so timid. They wanted to talk things over quietly, without being rushed and without the feeling that they were keeping others waiting. They were a nice looking couple, but there was strain in their eyes; their smiles were easy, but behind the smile was a certain anxiety. They were clean and fresh, but there was a whisper of inner struggle. Love is a strange thing, and how soon it withers, how soon the smoke smothers the flame! The flame is neither yours nor mine; it is just flame, clear and sufficient; it is neither personal nor impersonal; it is not of yesterday or tomorrow. It has healing warmth and a perfume that is never constant. It cannot be possessed, monopolized, or kept in one's hand. If it is held, it burns and destroys, and smoke fills our being; and then there is no room for the flame. He was saying that they had been married for two years, and were now living quietly not far from a biggish town. They had a small farm, twenty or thirty acres of rice and fruit, and some cattle. He was interested in improving the breed, and she in some local hospital work. Their days were full, but it was not the fullness of escape. They had never tried to run away from anything - except from their relations, who were very traditional and rather tiresome. They had married in spite of family opposition, and were living alone with very little help. Before they married they had talked things over and decided not to have children. Why? "We both realized what a frightful mess the world is in, and to produce more babies seemed a sort of crime. The children would almost inevitably become mere bureaucratic officials, or slaves to some kind of religious-economic system. Environment would make them stupid, or clever and cynical. Besides, we had not enough money to educate children properly." What do you mean by properly? "To educate children properly we would have to send them to school not only here but abroad. We would have to cultivate their intelligence, their sense of value and beauty, and help them to take life richly and happily so that they would have peace in themselves; and of course they would have to be taught some kind of technique which wouldn't destroy their souls. Besides all this, considering how stupid we ourselves were, we both felt that we should not pass on our own reactions and conditioning to our children. We didn't want to propagate modified examples of ourselves." Do you mean to say you both thought all this out so logically and brutally before you got married? You drew up a good contract; but can it be fulfilled as easily as it was drawn up? Life is a little more complex than a verbal contract, is it not? "That is what we are finding out. Neither of us has talked about all this to anyone else either before or since our marriage, and that has been one of our difficulties. We didn't know anybody with whom we could talk freely, for most older people take such arrogant pleasure in disapproving or patting us on the back. We heard one of your talks, and we both wanted to come and discuss our problem with you. Another thing is that, before our marriage, we vowed never to have any sexual relationship with each other." Again, why? "We are both very religiously inclined and we wanted to lead a spiritual life. Ever since I was a boy I have longed to be unworldly, to live the life of a sannyasi. I used to read a great many religious books, which only strengthened my desire. As a matter of fact, I wore the saffron robe for nearly a year." And you too? "I am not as clever or as learned as he is, but I have a strong religious background. My grandfather had a fairly good job, but he left his wife and children to become a sanyasi, and now my father wants to do the same; so far my mother has won out, but one day he too may disappear, and I have the same impulse to lead a religious life." Then, if I may ask, why did you marry? "We wanted each other's companionship," he replied; "we loved each other and had something in common. We had felt this ever since our very young days together, and we didn't see any reason for not getting officially married. We thought of not marrying and living together without sex, but this would have created unnecessary trouble. After our marriage everything was all right for about a year, but our longing for each other became almost intolerable. At last it was so unbearable that I used to go away; I couldn't do my work, I couldn't think of anything else, and I would have wild dreams. I became moody and irritable, though not a harsh word passed between us. We loved and could not hurt each other in word or act; but we were burning for each other like the midday sun, and we decided at last to come and talk it over with you. I literally cannot carry on with the vow that she and I have taken. You have no idea what it has been like." And what about you? "What woman doesn't want a child by the man she loves? I didn't know I was capable of such love, and I too have had days of torture and nights of agony. I became hysterical and would weep at the least thing, and during certain times of the month it became a nightmare. I was hoping something would happen,but even though we talked things over, it was no good. Then they started a hospital nearby and asked my help, and I was delighted to get away from it all. But it was still no good. To see him so close every day..." She was crying now with her heart."So we have come to talk it all over. What do you say?" Is it a religious life to punish oneself? Is mortification of the body or of the mind a sign of understanding? Is self-torture a way to reality? Is chastity denial? Do you think you can go far through renunciation? Do you really think there can be peace through conflict? Does not the means matter infinitely more than the end? The end may be, but the means is. The actual, the what is, must be understood and not smothered by determinations, ideals and clever rationalizations. Sorrow is not the way of happiness. The thing called passion has to be understood and not suppressed or sublimated, and it is no good finding a substitute for it. Whatever you may do, any device that you invent, will only strengthen that which has not been loved and understood. To love what we call passion is to understand it. To love is to be indirect communion; and you cannot love something if you resent it, if you have ideas, conclusions about it. How can you love and understand passion if you have taken a vow against it? A vow is a form of resistance, and what you resist ultimately conquers you. Truth is not to be conquered; you cannot storm it; it will slip through your hands if you try to grasp it. Truth comes silently, without your knowing. What you know is not truth, it is only an idea, a symbol. The shadow is not the real. Surely, our problem is to understand ourselves and not to destroy ourselves. To destroy is comparatively easy. You have a pattern of action which you hope will lead to truth. The pattern is always of your own making, it is according to your own conditioning, as the end also is. You make the pattern and then take a vow to carry it out. This is an ultimate escape from yourself. You are not that self-projected pattern and its process; you are what you actually are, the desire, the craving. If you really want to transcend and be free of craving, you have to understand it completely, neither condemning nor accepting it; but that is an art which comes only through watchfulness tempered with deep passivity. "I have read some of your talks and can follow what you mean. But what actually are we to do?" It is your life, your misery, your happiness, and dare another tell you what you should or should not do? Have not others already told you? Others are the past, the tradition, the conditioning of which you also are a part. You have listened to others, to yourself, and you are in this predicament; and do you still seek advice from others, which is from yourself? You will listen, but you will accept what is pleasing and reject what is painful, and both are binding. Your taking a vow against passion is the beginning of misery, just as the indulgence of it is; but what is important is to understand this whole process of the ideal, the taking of a vow, the discipline, the pain, all of which is a deep escape from inward poverty, from the ache of inward insufficiency, loneliness. This total process is yourself. "But what about children?" Again, there is no `yes' or `no'. The search for an answer through the mind leads nowhere. We use children as pawns in the game of our conceit, and we pile up misery; we use them as another means of escape from ourselves. When children are not used as a means, they have a significance which is not the significance that you, or society, or the State may give them. Chastity is not a thing of the mind; chastity is the very nature of love. Without love, do what you will, there can be no chastity. If there is love, your question will find the true answer. They remained in that room, completely silent, for a long time. Word and gesture had come to an end. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES II CHAPTER 14 'THE FEAR OF DEATH' ON THE RED earth in front of the house there were quantities of trumpet-like flowers with golden hearts. They had large, mauve petals and a delicate scent. They would be swept away during the day, but in the darkness of night they covered the red earth. The creeper was strong with serrated leaves which glistened in the morning sun. Some children carelessly trod on the flowers, and a man getting hurriedly into his car never even looked at them. A passer-by picked one, smelt it, and carried it away, to be dropped presently. A woman who must have been a servant came out of the house, picked a flower, and put it in her hair. How beautiful those flowers were, and how quickly they were withering in the sun! "I have always been haunted by some kind of fear. As a child I was very timid, shy and sensitive, and now I am afraid of old age and death. I know we must all die but no amount of rationalizing seems to calm this fear. I have joined the Psychical Research Society, attended a few seances, and read what the great teachers have said about death; but fear of it is still there.I even tied psychoanalysis, but that was no good either. This fear has become quite a problem to me; I wake up in the middle of the night with frightful dreams, and all of them are in one way or another concerned with death. I am strangely frightened of violence and death. The war was a continual nightmare to me, and now I am really very disturbed. It is not a neurosis, but I can see that it might become one. I have done everything that I possibly can to control this fear; I have tried to run away from it, but at the end of my escape I have not been able to shake it off. I have listened to a few rather stupid lectures on reincarnation, and have somewhat studied the Hindu and Buddhist literature concerning it. But all this has been very unsatisfactory, at least to me. I am not just superficially afraid of death, but there is a very deep fear of it." How do you approach the future, the tomorrow death? Are you trying to find the truth of the matter, or are you seeking reassurance, a gratifying assertion of continuity or annihilation? Do you want the truth, or a comforting answer? "When you put it that way, I really do not know what I am afraid of; but the fear is both there and urgent." What is your problem? Do you want to be free from fear, or are you seeking the truth regarding death? "What do you mean by the truth regarding death?" Death is an unavoidable fact; do what you will, it is irrevocable, final and true. But do you want to know the truth of what is beyond death? "From everything I have studied and from the few materializations I have seen at seances, there is obviously some kind of continuity after death. Thought in some form continues, which you yourself have asserted. Just as the broadcasting of songs, words and pictures requires a receiver at the other end, so thought which continues after death needs an instrument through which it can express itself. The instrument may be a medium, or thought may incarnate itself in another manner. This is all fairly clear and can be experimented with and understood; but even though I have gone into this matter fairly deeply, there is still an unfathomable fear which I think is definitely connected with death." Death is inevitable. Continuity can be ended, or it can be nourished and maintained. That which has continuity can never renew itself, it can never be the new, it can never understand the unknown. Continuity is duration, and that which is everlasting is not the timeless. Through time, duration, the timeless is not. There must be ending for the new to be. The new is not within the continuation of thought. Thought is continuous movement in time; this movement cannot enclose within itself a state of being which is not of time. Thought is founded on the past, its very being is of time. Time is not only chronological but it is thought as a movement of the past through the present to the future; it is the movement of memory, of the word, the picture, the symbol,the record, the repetition. Thought, memory, is continuous through word and repetition. The ending of thought is the beginning of the new; the death of thought is life eternal. There must be constant ending for the new to be. That which is new is not continuous; the new can never be within the field of time. The new is only in death from moment to moment. There must be death every day for the unknown to be. The ending is the beginning, but fear prevents the ending. "I know I have fear, and I don't know what is beyond it." What do we mean by fear? What is fear? Fear is not an abstraction, it does not exist independently, in isolation. It comes into being only in relation to something. In the process of relationship, fear manifests itself; there is no fear apart from relationship. Now what is it that you are afraid of? You say you are afraid of death. What do we mean by death? Though we have theories, speculations, and there are certain observable facts, death is still the unknown. Whatever we may know about it, death itself cannot be brought into the field of the known; we stretch out a hand to grasp it, but it is not. Association is the known, and the unknown cannot be made familiar; habit cannot capture it, so there is fear. Can the known, the mind, ever comprehend or contain the unknown? The hand that stretches out can receive only the knowable, it cannot hold the unknowable. To desire experience is to give continuity to thought; to desire experience is to give strength to the past; to desire experience is to further the known. You want to experience death, do you not? Though living, you want to know what death is. But do you know what living is? You know life only as conflict, confusion, antagonism, passing joy and pain. But is that life? Are struggle and sorrow life? In this state which we call life we want to experience something that is not in our own field of consciousness. This pain, this struggle, the hate that is enfolded in joy, is what we call living; and we want to experience something which is the opposite of what we call living. The opposite is the continuation of what is, perhaps modified. But death is not the opposite. It is the unknown. The knowable craves to experience death, the unknown; but, do what it will, it cannot experience death, therefore it is fearful. Is that it? "You have stated it clearly. If I could know or experience what death is while living, then surely fear would cease." Because you cannot experience death, you are afraid of it. Can the conscious experience that state which is not to be brought into being through the conscious? That which can be experienced is the projection of the conscious, the known. The known can only experience the known; experience is always within the field of the known; the known cannot experience what is beyond its field. Experiencing is utterly different from experience. Experienc- ing is not within the field of the experiencer; but as experiencing fades, the experiencer and the experience come into being, and then experiencing is brought into the field of the known. The knower, the experiencer, craves for the state of experiencing, the unknown; and as the experiencer, the knower, cannot enter into the state of experiencing, he is afraid. He is fear he is not separate from it. The experiencer of fear is not an observer of it; he is fear itself, the very instrument of fear. "What do you mean by fear? I know I am afraid of death. I don't feel that I am fear, but I am fearful of something. I fear and am separate from fear. Fear is a sensation distinct from the `I' who is looking at it, analysing it. I am the observer, and fear is the observed. How can the observer and the observed be one?" You say that you are the observer, and fear is the observed. But is that so? Are you an entity separate from your qualities? Are you not identical with your qualities? Are you not your thoughts, emotions, and so on? You are not separate from your qualities, thoughts. You are your thoughts. Thought creates the I `you', the supposedly separate entity; without thought, the thinker is not. Seeing the impermanence of itself, thought creates the thinker as the permanent, the enduring; and the thinker then becomes the experiencer, the analyser, the observer separate from the transient. We all crave some kind of permanency, and seeing impermanence about us, thought creates the thinker who is supposed to be permanent. The thinker then proceeds to buildup other and higher states of permanency: the soul, the atman, the higher self, and so on. Thought is the foundation of this whole structure. But that is another matter. We are concerned with fear. What is fear? Let us see what it is. You say you are afraid of death. Since you cannot experience it, you are afraid of it. Death is the unknown, and you are afraid of the unknown. Is that it? Now, can you be afraid of that which you do not know? If something is unknown to you, how can you be afraid of it? You are really afraid not of the unknown, of death, but of loss of the known, because that might cause pain, or take away your pleasure, your gratification. It is the known that causes fear, not the unknown. How can the unknown cause fear? It is not measurable in terms of pleasure and pain: it is unknown. Fear cannot exist by itself, it comes in relationship to something. You are actually afraid of the known in its relation to death, are you not? Because you cling to the known, to an experience, you are frightened of what the future might be. But the `what might be', the future, is merely a reaction, a speculation, the opposite of what is. This is so, is it not? "Yes, that seems to be right." And do you know what is? Do you understand it? Have you opened the cupboard of the known and looked into it? Are you not also frightened of what you might discover there? Have you ever inquired into the known, into what you possess? "No, I have not. I have always taken the known for granted. I have accepted the past as one accepts sunlight or rain. I have never considered it; one is almost unconscious of it, as one is of one's shadow. Now that you mention it, I suppose I am also afraid to find out what might be there." Are not most of us afraid to look at ourselves? We might discover unpleasant things, so we would rather not look, we prefer to be ignorant of what is. We are not only afraid of what might be in the future, but also of what might be in the present. We are afraid to know ourselves as we are, and this avoidance of what is is making us afraid of what might be. We approach the so-called known with fear, and also the unknown, death. The avoidance of what is is the desire for gratification. We are seeking security, constantly demanding that there shall be no disturbance; and it is this desire not to be disturbed that makes us avoid what is and fear what might be. Fear is the ignorance of what is, and our life is spent in a constant state of fear. "But how is one to get rid of this fear?" To get rid of something you must understand it. Is there fear, or only the desire not to see? It is the desire not to see that brings on fear; and when you don't want to understand the full significance of what is, fear acts as a preventive. You can lead a gratifying life by deliberately avoiding all inquiry into what is, and many do this; but they are not happy, nor are those who amuse them- selves with a superficial study of what is. Only those who are earnest in their inquiry can be aware of happiness; to them alone is there freedom from fear. "Then how is one to understand what is?" The what is is to be seen in the mirror of relationship, relationship with all things. The what is cannot be understood in withdrawal, in isolation; it cannot be understood if there is the interpreter, the translator who denies or accepts. The what is can be understood only when the mind is utterly passive, when it is not operating on what is. "Is it not extremely difficult to be passively aware?" It is, as long as there is thought. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES II CHAPTER 15 'THE FUSION OF THE THINKER AND HIS THOUGHTS' IT WAS A small pond, but very beautiful. Grass covered its banks, and a few steps went down to it. There was a small, white temple at one end, and all around it were tall, slender palms. The temple was well built and well cared for; it was spotlessly clean, and at that hour, when the sun was well behind the palm grove, there was no one there, not even the priest, who treated the temple and its contents with great veneration. This small, decorative temple gave to the pond an atmosphere of peace; the place was so still, and even the birds were silent. The slight breeze that stirred the palms was dying down, and a few clouds floated across the sky, radiant with the evening sun. A snake was swimming across the pond, in and out among the lotus leaves. The water was very clear, and there were pink and violet lotuses. Their delicate scent clung close to the water and to the green banks. There was not a thing stirring now, and the enchantment of the place seemed to fill the earth. But the beauty of those flowers! They were very still, and one or two were beginning to close for the night, shutting out the darkness. The snake had crossed the pond, come up the bank, and was passing close by; its eyes were like bright, black beads, and its forked tongue was playing before it like a small flame, making a path for the snake to follow. Speculation and imagination are a hindrance to truth. The mind that speculates can never know the beauty of what is; it is caught in the net of its own images and words. However far it may wander in its image making, it is still within the shadow of its own structure and can never see what is beyond itself. The sensitive mind is not an imaginative mind. The faculty to create pictures limits the mind; such a mind is bound to the past, to remembrance, which makes it dull. Only the still mind is sensitive. Accumulation in any form is a burden; and how can a mind be free when it is burdened? Only the free mind is sensitive; the open is the imponderable, the implicit the unknown. Imagination and speculation impede the open, the sensitive. He had spent many years, he said, in search of truth. He had been the round of many teachers, many gurus, and being still on his pilgrimage, he had stopped here to inquire. Bronzed by the sun and made lean by his wanderings, he was an ascetic who had renounced the world and left his own faraway country. Through the practice of certain disciplines he had with great difficulty learned to concentrate, and had subjugated the appetites. A scholar, with ready quotations, he was good at argument and swift in his conclusions. He had learned Sanskrit, and its resonant phrases were easy for him. All this had given a certain sharpness to his mind; but a mind that is made sharp is not pliable free. To understand, to discover, must not the mind be free at the very beginning? Can a mind that is disciplined, suppressed, ever be free? Freedom is not an ultimate goal; it must be at the very beginning, must it not? A mind that is disciplined, controlled, is free within its own pattern; but that is not freedom. The end of discipline is conformity; its path leads to the known, and the known is never the free. Discipline with its fear is the greed of achievement. "I am beginning to realize that there is something fundamentally wrong with all these disciplines. Though I have spent many years in trying to shape my thoughts to the desired pattern, I find that I am not getting anywhere." If the means is imitation, the end must be a copy. The means makes the end, does it not? If the mind is shaped in the beginning, it must also be conditioned at the end; and how can a conditioned mind ever be free? The means is the end, they are not two separate processes. It is an illusion to think that through a wrong means the true can be achieved. When the means is suppression, the end also must be a product of fear. "I have a vague feeling of the inadequacy of disciplines, even when I practice them, as I still do; they are now all but an unconscious habit. From childhood my education has been a process of conformity, and discipline has been almost instinctive with me ever since I first put on this robe. Most of the books I have read, and all the gurus I have been to, prescribe control in one form or another, and you have no idea how I went at it. So what you say seems almost a blasphemy; it is really a shock to me, but it is obviously true. Have my years been wasted?" They would have been wasted if your practices now prevented understanding, the receptivity to truth, that is, if these impediments were not wisely observed and deeply understood. We are so entrenched in our own make-believe that most of us dare not look at it or beyond it. The very urge to understand is the beginning of freedom. So what is our problem? "I am seeking truth, and I have made disciplines and practices of various kinds the means to that end. My deepest instinct urges me to seek and find, and I am not interested in anything else." Let us begin near to go far. What do you mean by search? Are you looking for truth? And can it be found by seeking? To seek truth, you must know what it is. Search implies a fore knowledge, something already felt or known, does it not? Is truth something to be known, gathered and held? Is not the intimation of it a projection of the past and so not truth at all, but a remembrance? Search implies an outgoing or an inward process, does it not? And must not the mind be still for reality to be? Search is effort to gain the more or the less, it is negative or positive acquisitiveness; and as long as the mind is the concentration, the focus of effort, of conflict, can it ever be still? Can the mind be still through effort? It can be made still through compulsion; but what is made can be unmade. "But is not effort of some kind essential?" We shall see. Let us inquire into the truth of search. To seek, there must be the seeker, an entity separate from that which he seeks. And is there such a separate entity? Is the thinker, the experiencer, different or separate from his thoughts and experiences? Without inquiring into this whole problem, meditation has no meaning. So we must understand the mind, the process of the self. What is the mind that seeks, that chooses, that is fearful, that denies and justifies? What is thought? "I have never approached the problem in this way, and I am now rather confused; but please proceed." Thought is sensation, is it not? Through perception and contact there is sensation; from this arises desire, desire for this and not for that. Desire is the beginning of identification, the `mine' and the `not-mine'. Thought is verbalized sensation; thought is the response of memory the word, the experience, the image. Thought is transient changing, impermanent, and it is seeking permanency. So thought creates the thinker, who then becomes the permanent; he assumes the role of the censor, the guide, the controller, the moulder of thought. This illusory permanent entity is the product of thought, of the transient. This entity is thought; without thought he is not. The thinker is made up of qualities; his dualities cannot be separated from himself. The controller is the controlled, he is merely playing a deceptive game with himself. Till the false is seen as the false, truth is not. "Then who is the seer, the experiencer, the entity that says, `I understand'?" As long as there is the experiencer remembering the experience, truth is not. Truth is not something to be remembered, stored up, recorded, and then brought out. What is accumulated is not truth. The desire to experience creates the experiencer, who then accumulates and remembers. Desire makes for the separation of the thinker from his thoughts; the desire to become, to experience, to be more or to be less, makes for division between the ex- periencer and the experience. Awareness of the ways of desire is self-knowledge. Self-knowledge is the beginning of meditation. "How can there be a fusion of the thinker with his thoughts?" Not through the action of will, nor through discipline, nor through any form of effort, control or concentration, nor through any other means. The use of a means implies an agent who is acting, does it not? As long as there is an actor, there will be a division. The fusion takes place only when the mind is utterly still without trying to be still. There is this stillness, not when the thinker comes to an end, but only when thought itself has come to an end. There must be freedom from the response of conditioning, which is thought. Each problem is solved only when idea, conclusion is not; conclusion, idea, thought, is the agitation of the mind. How can there be understanding when the mind is agitated? Earnestness must be tempered with the swift play of spontaneity. You will find, if you have heard all that has been said, that truth will come in moments when you are not expecting it. If I may say so, be open, sensitive, be fully aware of what is from moment to moment. Don't build around yourself a wall of impregnable thought. The bliss of truth comes when the mind is not occupied with its own activities and struggles. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES II CHAPTER 16 'THE PURSUIT OF POWER' THE COW WAS in labour, and the two or three people who regularly attended to her milking, feeding and cleaning were with her now. She was watching them, and if one went away for any reason, she would gently call. At this critical time she wanted all her friends about her; they had come and she was content, but she was labouring heavily. The little calf was born and it was a beauty, a heifer. The mother got up and went round and round her new baby, nudging her gently from time to time; she was so joyous that she would push us aside. She kept this up for a long time till she finally got tired. We held the baby to suckle, but the mother was too excited. At last she calmed down, and then she wouldn't let us go. One of the ladies sat on the ground, and the new mother lay down and put her head in her lap. She had suddenly lost interest in her calf, and her friends were more to her now. It had been very cold, but at last the sun was coming up behind the hills, and it was getting warmer. He was a member of the government and was shyly aware of his importance. He talked of his responsibility to his people; he explained how his party was superior to and could do things better than the opposition, how they were trying to put an end to corruption and the black market, but how difficult it was to find incorruptible and yet efficient people, and how easy it was for outsiders to criticize and blame the government for the things that were not being done. He went on to say that when people reached his age they should take things more easily; but most people were greedy for power, even the inefficient. Deep down we were all unhappy and out for ourselves, though some of us were clever at hiding our unhappiness and our craving for power. Why was there this urge to power? What do we mean by power? Every individual and group is after power: power for oneself, for the party, or the ideology. The party and the ideology are an extension of oneself. The ascetic seeks power through abnegation, and so does the mother through her child. There is the power of efficiency with its ruthlessness, and the power of the machine in the hands of a few; there is the domination of one individual by another, the exploitation of the stupid by the clever, the power of money, the power of name and word, and the power of mind over matter. We all want some kind of power, whether over ourselves or over others. This urge to power brings a kind of happiness, a gratification that is not too transient. The power of renunciation is as the power of wealth. It is the craving for gratification for happiness, that drives us to seek power. And how easily we are satisfied! The ease of achieving some form of satisfaction blinds us. All gratifications blinding. Why do we seek this power? "I suppose primarily because it gives us physical comforts, a social position, and respectability along recognized channels." Is the craving for power at only one level of our being? Do we not seek it inwardly as well as outwardly? Why? Why do we worship authority, whether of a book, of a person, of the State, or of a belief? Why is there this urge to cling to a person or to an idea? It was once the authority of the priest that held us, and now it is the authority of the expert, the specialist. Have you not noticed how you treat a man with a title, a man of position, the powerful executive? power in some form seems to dominate our lives: the power of one over many, the using of one by another, or mutual use. "What do you mean by using another?" This is fairly simple, is it not? We use each other for mutual gratification. The present structure of society, which is our relationship with each other, is based on need and usage. You need votes to get you into power; you use people to get what you want, and they need what you promise. The woman needs the man, and the man the woman. Our present relationship is based on need and use. Such a relationship is inherently violent, and that is why the very basis of our society is violence. As long as the social structure is based on mutual need and use, it is bound to be violent and disruptive; as long as I use another for my personal gratification, or for the fulfilment of an ideology with which I am identified, there can only be fear, distrust and opposition. Relationship is then a process of self-isolation and disintegration. This is all painfully obvious in the life of the individual and in world affairs. "But it is impossible to live without mutual need!" I need the postman, but if I use him to satisfy some inner urge, then the social need becomes a psychological necessity and our relationship has undergone a radical change. It is this psychological need and usage of another that makes for violence and misery. Psychological need creates the search for power, and power is used for gratification at different levels of our being. The man who is ambitious for himself or for his party, or who wants to achieve an ideal, is obviously a disintegrating factor in society. "Is not ambition inevitable?" It is inevitable only as long as there is no fundamental transformation in the individual. Why should we accept it as inevitable? Is the cruelty of man to man inevitable? Don't you want to put an end to it? Does not accepting it as inevitable indicate utter thoughtlessness? "If you are not cruel to others, someone else will be cruel to you, so you have to be on top." To be on top is what every individual, every group, every ideology is trying to do, and so sustaining cruelty, violence. There can be creation only in peace; and how can there be peace if there is mutual usage? To talk of peace is utter nonsense as long as our relationship with the one or with the many is based on need and use. The need and use of another must inevitably lead to power and dominance. The power of an idea and the power of the sword are similar; both are destructive. Idea and belief set man against man, just as the sword does. Idea and belief are the very antithesis of love. "Then why are we consciously or unconsciously consumed with this desire for power?" Is not the pursuit of power one of the recognized and respectable escapes from ourselves, from what is? Everyone tries to escape from his own insufficiency, from his inner poverty, loneliness, isolation. The actual is unpleasant, but the escape is glamourous and inviting. Consider what would happen if you were about to be stripped of your power, your position, your hard earned wealth. You would resist it, would you not? You consider yourself essential to the welfare of society, so you would resist with violence, or with rational and cunning argumentation. If you were able voluntarily to set aside all your many acquisitions at different levels, you would be as nothing, would you not? "I suppose I would - which is very depressing. Of course I don't want to be as nothing." So you have all the outer show without the inner substance, the incorruptible inward treasure. You want your outward show, and so does another, and from this conflict arise hate and fear, violence and decay. You with your ideology are as insufficient as the opposition, and so you are destroying each other in the name of peace, sufficiency, adequate employment, or in the name of God. As almost everyone craves to be on top, we have built a society of violence, conflict and enmity. "But how is one to eradicate all this?" By not being ambitious, greedy for power, for name, for position; by being what you are, simple and a nobody. Negative thinking is the highest form of intelligence. "But the cruelty and violence of the world cannot be stopped by my individual effort. And would it not take infinite time for all individuals to change?" The other is you. This question springs from the desire to avoid your own immediate transformation, does it not? You are saying, in effect, "What is the good of my changing if everyone else does not change?" One must begin near to go far. But you really do not want to change; you want things to go on as they are, especially if you are on top, and so you say it will take infinite time to transform the world through individual transformation. The world is you; you are the problem; the problem is not separate from you; the world is the projection of yourself. The world cannot be transformed till you are. Happiness is in transformation and not in acquisition. "But I am moderately happy. Of course there are many things in myself which I don't like, but I haven't the time or the inclination to go after them." Only a happy man can bring about a new social order; but he is not happy who is identified with an ideology or a belief, or who is lost in any social or individual activity. Happiness is not an end in itself. It comes with the understanding of what is. Only when the mind is free from its own projections can there be happiness. Happiness that is bought is merely gratification; happiness through action, through power, is only sensation; and as sensation soon withers, there is craving for more and more. As long as the more is a means to happiness, the end is always dissatisfaction, conflict and misery. Happiness is not a remembrance; it is that state which comes into being with truth, ever new, never continuous. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES II CHAPTER 17 'WHAT IS MAKING YOU DULL?' HE HAD A small job, with a very poor salary; he came with his wife, who wanted to talk over their problem. They were both quite young, and though they had been married for some years,they had no children; but that was not the problem. His pay was barely enough to eke out an existence in these difficult times, but as they had no children it was sufficient to survive. What the future held no man knew, though it could hardly be worse than the present. He was disinclined to talk, but his wife pointed out that he must. She had brought him along, almost forcibly it appeared, for he had come very reluctantly; but there he was, and she was glad. He could not talk easily, he said, for he had never talked about himself to anyone but his wife. He had few friends, and even to these he never opened his heart, for they wouldn't have understood him. As he talked he was slowly thawing, and his wife was listening with anxiety. He explained that his work was not the problem; it was fairly interesting, and anyhow it gave them food. They were simple, unassuming people, and both had been educated at one of the universities. At last she began to explain their problem. She said that for a couple of years now her husband seemed to have lost all interest in life. He did his office work, and that was about all; he went to work in the morning and came back in the evening, and his employers did not complain about him. "My work is a matter of routine and does not demand too much attention. I am interested in what I do, but it is all somehow a strain. My difficulty is not at the office or with the people with whom I work, but it is within myself. As my wife said, I have lost interest in life, and I don't quite know what is the matter with me." "He was always enthusiastic, sensitive and very affectionate, but for the past year or more he has become dull and indifferent to everything. He always used to be loving with me, but now life has become very sad for both of us. He doesn't seem to care whether I am there or not, and it has become a misery to live in the same house. He is not unkind or anything of that sort, but has simply become apathetic and utterly indifferent." Is it because you have no children? "It isn't that," he said. "Our physical relationship is all right, more or less. No marriage is perfect, and we have our ups and downs, but I don't think this dullness is the result of any sexual maladjustment. Although my wife and I haven't lived together sexually for some time now because of this dullness of mine, I don't think it is the lack of children that has brought it about." Why do you say that? "Before this dullness came upon me, my wife and I realized that we couldn't have children. It has never bothered me, though she often cries about it. She wants children, but apparently one of us is incapable of reproduction. I have suggested several things which might make it possible for her to have a child, but she won't try any of them. She will have a child by me or not at all, and she is very deeply upset about it. After all, without the fruit, a tree is merely decorative. We have lain awake talking about all this, but there it is. I realize that one can't have everything in life, and it is not the lack of children that has brought on this dullness; at least, I am pretty sure it is not." Is it due to your wife's sadness, to her sense of frustration? "You see, sir, my husband and I have gone into this matter pretty fully. I am more than sad not to have had children, and I pray to God that I may have one some day. My husband wants me to be happy, of course, but his dullness isn't due to my sadness. If we had a child now, I would be supremely happy, but for him it would merely be a distraction, and I suppose it is so with most men. This dullness has been creeping upon him for the past two years like some internal disease. He used to talk to me about everything, about the birds, about his office work, about his ambitions, about his regard and love for me; he would open his heart to me. But now his heart is closed and his mind is somewhere far away. I have talked to him, but it is no good." Have you separated from each other for a time to see how that worked? "Yes. I went away to my family for about six months, and we wrote to each other; but this separation made no difference. If anything, it made things worse. He cooked his own food, went out very little, kept away from his friends, and was more and more withdrawn into himself. He has never been too social in any case. Even after this separation he showed no quickening spark." Do you think this dullness is a cover, a pose, an escape from some unfulfilled inner longing? "I am afraid I don't quite understand what you mean." You may have an intense longing for something which needs fulfilment, and as that longing has no release, perhaps you are escaping from the pain of it through becoming dull. "I have never thought about such a thing, it has never occurred to me before. How am I to find out?" Why hasn't it occurred to you before? Have you ever asked yourself why you have become dull? Don't you want to know? "It is strange, but I have never asked myself what is the cause of this stupid dullness. I have never put that question to myself." Now that you are asking yourself that question what is your response? "I don't think I have any. But I am really shocked to find how very dull I have become. I was never like this. I am appalled at my own state." After all, it is good to know in what state one actually is. At least that is a beginning. You have never before asked yourself why you are dull, lethargic; you have just accepted it and carried on, have you not? Do you want to discover what has made you like this, or have you resigned yourself to your present state? "I am afraid he has just accepted it without ever fighting against it." You do want to get over this state, don't you? Do you want to talk without your wife? "Oh, no. There is nothing I cannot say in front of her. I know it is not a lack or an excess of sexual relationship that has brought on this state, nor is there another woman. I couldn't go to another woman. And it is not the lack of children." Do you paint or write? "I have always wanted to write, but I have never painted. On my walks I used to get some ideas, but now even that has gone." Why don't you try to put something on paper? It doesn't matter how stupid it is; you don't have to show it to anyone. Why don't you try writing something? But to go back. Do you want to find out what has brought on this dullness, or do you want to remain as you are? "I would like to go away somewhere by myself, renounce everything and find some happiness." Is that what you want to do? Then why don't you do it? Are you hesitating on account of your wife? "I am no good to my wife as I am; I am just a wash-out." Do you think you will find happiness by withdrawing from life, by isolating yourself? Haven't you sufficiently isolated yourself now? To renounce in order to find is no renunciation at all; it is only a cunning bargain, an exchange, a calculated move to gain something. You give up this in order to get that. Renunciation with an end in view is only a surrender to further gain. But can you have happiness through isolation, through dissociation? Is not life association, contact, communion? You may withdraw from one association to find happiness in another, but you cannot completely withdraw from all contact. Even in complete isolation you are in contact with your thoughts, with yourself. Suicide is the complete form of isolation. "Of course I don't want to commit suicide. I want to live, but I don't want to continue as I am." Are you sure you don't want to go on as you are? You see, it is fairly clear that there is something which is making you dull, and you want to run away from it into further isolation. To run away from what is, is to isolate oneself. You want to isolate yourself, perhaps temporarily, hoping for happiness. But you have already isolated yourself, and pretty thoroughly; further isolation, which you call renunciation, is only a further withdrawal from life. And can you have happiness through deeper and deeper self-isolation? The nature of the self is to isolate itself its very quality is exclusiveness. To be exclusive is to renounce in order to gain. The more you withdraw from association, the greater the conflict, resistance. Nothing can exist in isolation. However painful relationship may be, it has to be patiently and thoroughly understood. Conflict makes for dullness. Effort to become something only brings problems, conscious or unconscious. You cannot be dull without some cause, for, as you say, you were once alert and keen. You haven't always been dull. What has brought about this change? "You seem to know, and won't you please tell him?" I could, but what good would that be? He would either accept or reject it according to his mood and pleasure; but is it not important that he himself should find out? Is it not essential for him to uncover the whole process and see the truth of it? Truth is something that cannot be told to another. He must be able to receive it, and none can prepare him for it. This is not indifference on my part; but he must come to it openly, freely and unexpectedly. What is making you dull? Shouldn't you know it for yourself? Conflict, resistance, makes for dullness. We think that through struggle we shall understand through competition we shall be made bright. Struggle certainly makes for sharpness, but what is sharp is soon made blunt; what is in constant use soon wears out. We accept conflict as inevitable, and build our structure of thought and action upon this inevitability. But is conflict inevitable? Is there not a different way of living? There is if we can understand the process and significance of conflict. Again, why have you made yourself dull? "Have I made myself dull?" Can anything make you dull unless you are willing to be made dull? This willingness may be conscious or hidden. Why have you allowed yourself to be made dull? Is there a deep-seated conflict in you? "If there is, I am totally unaware of it." But don't you want to know? Don't you want to understand it? "I am beginning to see what you are driving at," she put in, "but I may not be able to tell my husband the cause of his dullness because I am not quite sure of it myself." You may or may not see the way this dullness has come upon him; but would you be really helping him if verbally you were to point it out? Is it not essential that he discovers it for himself? Please see the importance of this, and then you will not be impatient or anxious. One can help another, but he alone must undertake the journey of discovery. Life is not easy; it is very complex, but we must approach it simply. We are the problem; the problem is not what we call life. We can understand the problem, which is ourselves, only if we know how to approach it. The approach is all important, and not the problem. "But what are we to do?" You must have listened to all that has been said; if you have, then you will see that truth alone brings freedom. Please don't worry, but let the seed take root. After some weeks they both came back. There was hope in their eyes and a smile upon their lips. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES II CHAPTER 18 'KARMA' SILENCE IS NOT to be cultivated, it is not to be deliberately brought about; it is not to be sought out, thought of, or meditated upon. The deliberate cultivation of silence is as the enjoyment of some longed for pleasure; the desire to silence the mind is but the pursuit of sensation. Such silence is only a form of resistance, an isolation which leads to decay. Silence that is bought is a thing of the market in which there is the noise of activity. Silence comes with the absence of desire. Desire is swift, cunning and deep. Remembrance shuts off the sweep of silence, and a mind that is caught in experience cannot be silent. Time, the movement of yesterday flowing into today and tomorrow, is not silence. With the cessation of this movement there is silence, and only then can that which is unnameable come into being. "I have come to talk over karma with you. Of course I have certain opinions about it, but I would like to know yours." Opinion is not truth; we must put aside opinions to find truth. There are innumerable opinions, but truth is not of this or of that group. For the understanding of truth, all ideas, conclusions, opinions, must drop away as the withered leaves fall from a tree. Truth is not to be found in books, in knowledge, inexperience. If you are seeking opinions, you will find none here. "But we can talk about karma and try to understand its significance, can we not." That, of course, is quite a different matter. To understand, opinions and conclusions must cease. "Why do you insist upon that?" Can you understand anything if you have already made up your mind about it, or if you repeat the conclusions of another? To find the truth of this matter, must we not come to it afresh, with a mind that is not clouded by prejudice? Which is more important, to be free from conclusions, prejudices, or to speculate about some abstraction? Is it not more important to find the truth than to squabble about what truth is? An opinion as to what truth is, is not truth. Is it not important to discover the truth concerning karma? To see the false as the false is to begin to understand it, is it not? How can we see either the true or the false if our minds are entrenched in tradition, in words and explanations? If the mind is tethered to a belief, how can it go far? To journey far, the mind must be free. Freedom is not something to be gained at the end of long endeavour, it must be at the very beginning of the journey. "I want to find out what karma means to you." Sir, let us take the journey of discovery together. Merely to repeat the words of another has no deep significance. It is like playing a gramophone record. Repetition or imitation does not bring about freedom. What do you mean by karma? "It is a Sanskrit word meaning to do, to be, to act, and so on. Karma is action, and action is the outcome of the past. Action cannot be without the conditioning of the background. Through a series of experiences, through conditioning and knowledge, the background of tradition is built up, not only during the present life of the individual and the group, but throughout many incarnations. The constant action and interaction between the background, which is the `me', and society, life, is karma; and karma binds the mind, the `me'. What I have done in my past life, or only yesterday, holds and shapes me, giving pain or pleasure in the present. There is group or collective karma, as well as that of the individual. Both the group and the individual are held in the chain of cause and effect. There will be sorrow or joy, punishment or reward, according to what I have done in the past." You say action is the outcome of the past. Such action is not action at all, but only a reaction, is it not? The conditioning the background, reacts to stimuli; this reaction is the response of memory, which is not action, but karma. For the present we are not concerned with what action is. Karma is the reaction which arises from certain causes and produces certain results. Karma is this chain of cause and effect. Essentially, the process of time is karma, is it not? As long as there is a past, there must be the present and the future. Today and tomorrow are the effects of yesterday; yesterday in conjunction with today makes tomorrow. Karma, as generally understood, is a process of compensation. "As you say, karma is a process of time, and mind is the result of time. Only the fortunate few can escape from the clutches of time; the rest of us are bound to time. What we have done in the past, good or evil, determines what we are in the present." Is the background, the past, a static state? Is it not undergoing constant modification? You are not the same today as you were yesterday; both physiologically and psychologically there is a constant change going on, is there not? "Of course." So the mind is not a fixed state. Our thoughts are transient, constantly changing; they are the response of the background. If I have been brought up in a certain class of society in a definite culture, I will respond to challenge, to stimuli, according to my conditioning. With most of us, this conditioning is so deep- rooted that response is almost always according to the pattern. Our thoughts are the response of the background. We are the background; that conditioning is not separate or dissimilar from us. With the changing of the background our thoughts also change. "But surely the thinker is wholly different from the background, is he not?" Is he? Is not the thinker the result of his thoughts? Is he not composed of his thoughts? Is there a separate entity, a thinker apart from his thoughts? Has not thought created the thinker, given him permanence amidst the impermanence of thoughts? The thinker is the refuge of thought, and the thinker places himself at different levels of permanency. "I see this is so, but it is rather a shock to me to realize the tricks that thought is playing upon itself." Thought is the response of the background, of memory; memory is knowledge, the result of experience. This memory, through further experience and response, gets tougher, larger, sharper, more efficient. One form of conditioning can be substituted for another, but it is still conditioning. The response of this conditioning is karma, is it not? The response of memory is called action, but it is only reaction; this `action' breeds further reaction, and so there is a chain of so-called cause and effect. But is not the cause also the effect? Neither cause nor effect is static. Today is the result of yesterday and today is the cause of tomorrow; what was the cause becomes the effect, and the effect the cause. One flows into the other. There is no moment when the cause is not also the effect. Only the specialized is fixed in its cause and so in its effect. The acorn cannot become anything but an oak tree. In specialization there is death; but man is not a specialized entity, he can be what he will. He can break through his conditioning - and he must, if he would discover the real. You must cease to be a so-called Brahmin to realize God. Karma is the process of time, the past moving through the present to the future; this chain is the way of thought. Thought is the result of time, and there can be that which is immeasurable, timeless, only when the process of thought has ceased. Stillness of the mind cannot be induced, it cannot be brought about through any practice or discipline. If the mind is made still, then whatever comes into it is only a self-projection, the response of memory. With the understanding of its conditioning, with the choiceless awareness of its own responses as thought and feeling, tranquillity comes to the mind. This breaking of the chain of karma is not a matter of time; for through time, the timeless is not. Karma must be understood as a total process not merely as something of the past. The past is time, which is also the present and the future. Time is memory, the word, the idea. When the word, the name, the association, the experience, is not, then only is the mind still, not merely in the upper layers, but completely, integrally. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES II CHAPTER 19 'THE INDIVIDUAL AND THE IDEAL' "OUR LIFE HERE in India is more or less shattered; we want to make something of it again, but we don't know where to begin. I can see the importance of mass action, and also its dangers. I have pursued the ideal of non-violence, but there has been bloodshed and misery. Since the Partition, this country has had blood on its hands, and now we are building up the armed forces. We talk of non-violence and yet prepare for war. I am as confused as the political leaders. In prison I used to read a great deal, but it has not helped me to clarify my own position." "Can we take one thing at a time and somewhat go into it? First, you lay a great deal of emphasis on the individual; but is not collective action necessary?" The individual is essentially the collective, and society is the creation of the individual. The individual and society are interrelated, are they not? They are not separate. The individual builds the structure of society, and society or environment shapes the individual. Though environment conditions the individual, he can always free himself, break away from his background. The individual is the maker of the very environment to which he becomes a slave; but he has also the power to break away from it and create an environment that will not dull his mind or spirit. The individual is important only in the sense that he has the capacity to free himself from his conditioning and understand reality. Individuality that is merely ruthless in its own conditioning builds a society whose foundations are based on violence and antagonism. The individual exists only in relationship, otherwise he is not; and it is the lack of understanding of this relationship that is breeding conflict and confusion. If the individual does not understand his relationship to people, to property, and to ideas or beliefs, merely to impose upon him a collective or any other pattern only defeats its own end. To bring about the imposition of a new pattern will require so-called mass action; but the new pattern is the invention of a few individuals, and the mass is mesmerized by the latest slogans, the promises of a new Utopia. The mass is the same as before, only now it has new rulers, new phrases, new priests, new doctrines. This mass is made up of you and me, it is composed of individuals; the mass is fictitious, it is a convenient term for the exploiter and the politician to play with. The many are pushed into action, into war, and so on, by the few; and the few represent the desires and urges of the many. It is the transformation of the individual that is of the highest importance, but not in terms of any pattern. Patterns always condition, and a conditioned entity is always in conflict within himself and so with society. It is comparatively easy to substitute a new pattern of conditioning for the old; but for the individual to free himself from all conditioning is quite another matter. "This requires careful and detailed thought, but I think I am beginning to understand it. You lay emphasis on the individual, but not as a separate and antagonistic force within society. "Now the second point. I have always worked for an ideal, and I don't understand your denial of it. Would you mind going into this problem?" Our present morality is based on the past or the future on the traditional or the what ought to be. The what ought to be is the ideal in opposition to what has been, the future in conflict with the past. Non-violence is the ideal, the what should be; and the what has been is violence. The what has been projects the what should be; the ideal is homemade, it is projected by its own opposite, the actual. The antithesis is an extension of the thesis; the opposite contains the element of its own opposite. Being violent, the mind projects its opposite, the ideal of non-violence. It is said that the ideal helps to overcome its own opposite; but does it? Is not the ideal an avoidance, an escape from the what has been, or from what is? The conflict between the actual and the ideal is obviously a means of postponing the understanding of the actual, and this conflict only introduces another problem which helps to cover up the immediate problem. The ideal is a marvellous and respectable escape from the actual. The ideal of non-violence, like the collective Utopia, is fictitious; the ideal, the what should be, helps us to cover up and avoid what is. The pursuit of the ideal is the search for reward. You may shun the worldly rewards as being stupid and barbarous, which they are; but your pursuit of the ideal is the search for reward at a different level, which is also stupid. The ideal is a compensation, a fictitious state which the mind has conjured up. Being violent, separative and out for itself, the mind projects the gratifying compensation, the fiction which it calls the ideal, the Utopia, the future, and vainly pursues it. That very pursuit is conflict, but it is also a pleasurable postponement of the actual. The ideal, the what should be, does not help in understanding what is; on the contrary, it prevents understanding. "Do you mean to say that our leaders and teachers have been wrong in advocating and maintaining the ideal?" What do you think? "If I understand correctly what you say..." Please, it is not a matter of understanding what another may say, but of finding out what is true. Truth is not opinion; truth is not dependent on any leader or teacher. The weighing of opinions only prevents the perception of truth. Either the ideal is a homemade fiction which contains its own opposite, or it is not. There are no two ways about it. This does not depend on any teacher, you must perceive the truth of it for yourself. "If the ideal is fictitious, it revolutionizes all my thinking. Do you mean to say that our pursuit of the ideal is utterly futile?," It is a vain struggle, a gratifying self-deception is it not? "This is very disturbing, but I am forced to admit that it is. We have taken so many things for granted that we have never allowed ourselves to observe closely what is in our hand. We have deceived ourselves, and what you point out upsets completely the structure of my thought and action. It will revolutionize education, our whole way of living and working. I think I see the implications of a mind that is free from the ideal, from the what should be. To such a mind, action has a significance quite different from that which we give it now. Compensatory action is not action at all, but only a reaction - and we boast of action!...But without the ideal, how is one to deal with the actual, or with the what has been?" The understanding of the actual is possible only when the ideal, the what should be, is erased from the mind; that is only when the false is seen as the false. The what should be is also the what should not be. As long as the mind approaches the actual with either positive or negative compensation, there can be no understanding of the actual. To understand the actual you must be indirect communion with it; your relationship with it cannot be through the screen of the ideal, or through the screen of the past, of tradition, of experience. To be free from the wrong approach is the only problem. This means, really, the understanding of conditioning, which is the mind. The problem is the mind itself, and not the problems it breeds; the resolution of the problems bred by the mind is merely the reconciliation of effects, and that only leads to further confusion and illusion. "How is one to understand the mind?" The way of the mind is the way of life - not the ideal life, but the actual life of sorrow and pleasure, of deception and clarity, of conceit and the pose of humility. To understand the mind is to be aware of desire and fear. "Please, this is getting a bit too much for me. How am I to understand my mind?" To know the mind, must you not be aware of its activities? The mind is only experience, not just the immediate but also the accumulated. The mind is the past in response to the present, which makes for the future. The total process of the mind has to be understood. "Where am I to begin?" From the only beginning: relationship. Relationship is life; to be is to be related. Only in the mirror of relationship is the mind to be understood, and you have to begin to see yourself in that mirror. "Do you mean in my relationship with my wife with my neighbour, and so on? Is that not a very limited process?" What may appear to be small, limited, if approached rightly, reveals the fathomless. It is like a funnel, the narrow opens into the wide. When observed with passive watchfulness, the limited reveals the limitless. After all, at its source the river is small, hardly worth noticing. "So I must begin with myself and my immediate relationships." Surely. Relationship is never narrow or small. With the one or with the many, relationship is a complex process, and you can approach it pettily, or freely and openly. Again, the approach is dependent on the state of the mind. If you do not begin with yourself, where else will you begin? Even if you begin with some peripheral activity, you are in relationship with it, the mind is the centre of it. Whether you begin near or far, you are there. Without understanding yourself, whatever you do will inevitably bring about confusion and sorrow. The beginning is the ending. "I have wandered far afield, I have seen and done many things, I have suffered and laughed like so many others, and yet I have had to come back to myself. I am like that sannyasi who set out in search of truth. He spent many years going from teacher to teacher, and each pointed out a different way. At last he wearily returned to his home, and in his own house was the jewel! I see how foolish we are, searching the universe for that bliss which is to be found only in our own hearts when the mind is purged of its activities. You are perfectly right. I begin from where I started. I begin with what I am." COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES II CHAPTER 20 'TO BE VULNERABLE IS TO LIVE, TO WITHDRAW IS TO DIE' THE HURRICANE HAD destroyed the crops, and the seawater was over the land. The train was crawling along, and on both sides of the line the trees were down, the houses roofless, and the fields utterly deserted. The storm had done a great deal of damage for miles around; living things were destroyed, and the barren earth was open to the sky. We are never alone; we are surrounded by people and by our own thoughts. Even when the people are distant, we see things through the screen of our thoughts. There is no moment, or it is very rare, when thought is not. We do not know what it is to be alone, to be free of all association, of all continuity, of all word and image. We are lonely, but we do not know what it is to be alone. The ache of loneliness fills our hearts, and the mind covers it with fear. Loneliness, that deep isolation, is the dark shadow of our life. We do everything we can to run away from it, we plunge down every avenue of escape we know, but it pursues us and we are never without it. Isolation is the way of our life; we rarely fuse with another, for in ourselves we are broken, torn and unhealed. In ourselves we are not whole complete, and the fusion with another is possible only when there is integration within. We are afraid of solitude, for it opens the door to our insufficiency, the poverty of our own being; but it is solitude that heals the deepening wound of loneliness. To walk alone, unimpeded by thought, by the trail of our desires, is to go beyond the reaches of the mind. It is the mind that isolates, separates and cuts off communion. The mind cannot be made whole; it cannot make itself complete, for that very effort is a process of isolation, it is part of the loneliness that nothing can cover. The mind is the product of the many, and what is put together can never be alone. Aloneness is not the result of thought. Only when thought is utterly still is there the flight of the alone to the alone. The house was well back from the road, and the garden had an abundance of flowers. It was a cool morning, and the sky was very blue; the morning sun was pleasant, and in the shaded, sunken garden the noise of the traffic, the call of the vendors, and the trotting of horses on the road, all seemed very distant. A goat had wandered into the garden; with its short tail wiggling, it nibbled at the flowers till the gardener came and chased it away. She was saying that she felt very disturbed, but did not want to be disturbed; she wanted to avoid the painful state of uncertainty. Why was she so apprehensive of being disturbed? What do you mean by being disturbed? And why be apprehensive about it? "I want to be quiet, to be left alone. I feel disturbed even with you. Though I have seen you only two or three times, the fear of being disturbed by you is coming heavily upon me. I want to find out why I have this fear of being inwardly uncertain. I want to be quiet and at peace with myself, but I am always being disturbed by something or other. Till recently I had managed to be more or less at peace with myself; but a friend brought me along to one of your talks, and now I am strangely upset. I thought you would strengthen me in my peace, but instead you have almost shattered it. I didn't want to come here, as I knew I would make a fool of myself; but still, here I am." Why are you so insistent that you should be at peace? Why are you making it into a problem? The very demand to be at peace is conflict, is it not? If I may ask, what is it you want? If you want to be left alone, undisturbed and at peace, then why allow yourself to be shaken? It is quite feasible to shut all the doors and windows of one's being, to isolate oneself and live in seclusion. That is what most people want. Some deliberately cultivate isolation, and others, by their desires and activities, both hidden and open, bring about this exclusion. The sincere ones become self-righteous with their ideals and virtues, which are only a defence; and those who are thoughtless drift into isolation through economic pressure and social influences. Most of us are seeking to build walls around ourselves so as to be invulnerable, but unfortunately there is always an opening through which life creeps in. "I have generally managed to ward off most of the disturbances, but during the past week or two, because of you, I have been more disturbed than ever. Please tell me why I am disturbed. What is the cause of it?" Why do you want to know the cause of it? Obviously, by knowing the cause you hope to eradicate the effect. You really do not want to know why you are disturbed, do you? You only want to avoid disturbance. "I just want to be left alone, undisturbed and at peace; and why am I constantly disturbed?" You have been defending yourself all your life have you not? What you are really interested in is to find out how to stop up all the openings, and not how to live without fear, without dependence. From what you have said and left unsaid, it is obvious that you have tried to make your life secure against any kind of inward disturbance; you have withdrawn from any relationship that might cause pain. You have managed fairly well to safeguard yourself against all shock, to live behind closed doors and windows. Some are successful in doing this, and if pushed far enough its ultimate end is the asylum; others fail and become cynical, bitter; and still others make themselves rich in things or in knowledge, which is their safeguard. Most people, including the so-called religious, desire abiding peace, a state in which all conflict has come to an end. Then there are those who praise conflict as the only real expression of life, and conflict is their shield against life. Can you ever have peace by seeking security behind the walls of your fears and hopes? All your life you have withdrawn, because you want to be safe within the walls of a limited relationship which you can dominate. Is this not your problem? Since you depend, you want to possess that upon which you depend. You are afraid of and therefore avoid any relationship which you cannot dominate. Isn't that it? "That is rather a brutal way of putting it, but perhaps that is it." If you could dominate the cause of your present disturbance, you would be at peace; but since you cannot, you are very concerned. We all want to dominate when we do not understand; we want to possess or be possessed when there is fear of ourselves. Uncertainty of ourselves makes for a feeling of superiority, exclusion and isolation. If I may ask, of what are you afraid? Are you afraid of being alone, of being left out, of being made uncertain? "You see, all my life I have lived for others, or so I thought. I have upheld an ideal and been praised for my efficiency in doing the kind of work which is considered good; I have lived a life of self-denial, without security without children, without a home. My sisters are well-married and socially prominent, and my older brothers are high government officials. When I visit them, I feel I have wasted my life. I have become bitter, and I deeply regret all the things that I haven't had. I now dislike the work I was doing, it no longer brings me any happiness, and I have abandoned it to others. I have turned my back upon it all. As you point out, I have become hard in my self-defence. I have anchored myself in a younger brother who is not well off and who considers himself a seeker of God. I have tried to make myself inwardly secure, but it has been a long and painful struggle. It is this younger brother who brought me to one of your talks, and the house which I had been so carefully building began to tumble down. I wish to God I had never come to hear you, but I cannot rebuild it, I cannot go through all that suffering and anxiety again. You have no idea what it has been like for me to see my brothers and sisters with position, prestige, and money. But I won't go into all that. I have cut myself off from them, and I rarely see them. As you say, I have gradually shut the door upon all relationships except one or two; but as misfortune would have it, you came to this town, and now everything is wide open again, all the old wounds have come to life, and I am deeply miserable. What am I to do?" The more we defend, the more we are attacked; the more we seek security, the less of it there is; the more we want peace, the greater is our conflict; the more we ask, the less we have. You have tried to make yourself invulnerable, shockproof; you have made yourself inwardly unapproachable except to one or two, and have closed all the doors to life. It is slow suicide. Now, why have you done all this? Have you ever asked yourself that question? Don't you want to know? You have come either to find away to close all the doors, or to discover how to be open, vulnerable to life. Which is it you want - not as a choice, but as a natural, spontaneous thing? "Of course I see now that it is really impossible to shut all the doors, for there is always an opening. I realize what I have been doing; I see that my own fear of uncertainty has made for dependence and domination. Obviously I could not dominate every situation, however much I might like to, and that is why I limited my contacts to one or two which I could dominate and hold. I see all that. But how am I to be open again, free and without this fear of inward uncertainty?" Do you see the necessity of being open and vulnerable? If you do not see the truth of that then you will again surreptitiously build walls around yourself. To see the truth in the false is the beginning of wisdom; to see the false as the false is the highest comprehension. To see that what you have been doing all these years can only lead to further strife and sorrow - actually to experience the truth of it, which is not mere verbal acceptance -will put an end to that activity. You cannot voluntarily make yourself open; the action of will cannot make you vulnerable. The very desire to be vulnerable creates resistance. Only by understanding the false as the false is there freedom from it. Be passively watchful of your habitual responses; simply be aware of them without resistance; passively watch them as you would watch a child, without the pleasure or distaste of identification. passive watchfulness itself is freedom from defence, from closing the door. To be vulnerable is to live, and to withdraw is to die. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES II CHAPTER 21 'DESPAIR AND HOPE' THE LITTLE DRUM was beating out a gay rhythm and presently it was joined by a reed instrument; together they filled the air. The drum dominated, but it followed the reed. The latter would stop, but the little drum would go on sharp and clear, until it was again joined by the song of the reed. The dawn was still faraway and the birds were quiet but the music filled the silence. There was a wedding going on in the little village. During the previous evening there had been much gaiety; the songs and laughter had gone on late into the night, and now the parties were being awakened by music. presently the naked branches began to show against the pale sky; the stars were disappearing one by one, and the music had come to an end. There were the shouts and calling of children, and noisy quarrelling around the only water tap in the village. The sun was still below the horizon,but the day had begun. To love is to experience all things, but to experience without love is to live in vain. Love is vulnerable, but to experience with out this vulnerability is to strengthen desire. Desire is not love and desire cannot hold love. Desire is soon spent and in its spending is sorrow. Desire cannot be stopped; the ending of desire by will, by any means that the mind can devise, leads to decay and misery. Only love can tame desire, and love is not of the mind. The mind as the observer must cease for love to be. Love is not a thing that can be planned and cultivated; it cannot be bought through sacrifice or through worship. There is no means to love. The search for a means must come to an end for love to be. The spontaneous shall know the beauty of love, but to pursue it ends freedom. To the free alone is there love, but freedom never directs, never holds. Love is its own eternity. She spoke easily, and words came naturally to her, though still young, there was sadness about her; she smiled with distant remembrance and her smile was strained. She had been married but had no children, and her husband had recently died. It was not one of those arranged marriages, nor one of mutual desire. She did not want to use the word `love', for it was in every book and on every tongue; but their relationship had been something extraordinary. From the day they were married till the day of his death, there had never been so much as a cross word or a gesture of impatience nor were they ever separated from each other, even for a day. A fusion had taken place between them, and everything else - children, money, work, society - had become of secondary importance. This fusion was not romantic sentimentalism or a thing imagined after his death, but it had been a reality from the from the very first. Their joy had not been of desire, but of something that went beyond and above the physical. Then suddenly, a couple of months ago, he was killed in an accident. The bus took a curve too fast, and that was that. "Now I am in despair; I have tried to commit suicide, but somehow I can't. To forget, to be numb I have done everything short of throwing myself into the river, and I haven't had a good night's sleep these two months. I am in complete darkness; it is a crisis beyond my control which I cannot understand, and I am lost." She covered her face with her hands. Presently she continued. "It is not a despair that can be remedied or wiped away. With his death, all hope has come to an end. people have said I will forget and remarry, or do something else. Even if I could forget, the flame has gone out; it cannot be replaced, nor do I want to find a substitute for it. We live and die with hope but I have none. I have no hope, therefore I am not bitter; I am in despair and darkness, and I do not want light. My life is a living death, and I do not want anyone's sympathy, love, or pity. I want to remain in my darkness, without feeling, without remembering." Is that why you have come, to be made more dull, to be confirmed in your despair? Is that what you want? If it is, then you will have what you desire. Desire is as pliable and as swift as the mind; it will adjust itself to anything, mould itself to any circumstances, build walls that will keep out light. Its very despair is its delight. Desire creates the image it will worship. If you desire to live in darkness, you will succeed. Is this why you have come, to be strengthened in your own desire? "You see, a friend of mine told me about you, and I came impulsively. If I had stopped to think, probably I wouldn't have come. I have always acted rather impulsively, and it has never led me into mischief. If you ask me why I have come, all I can say is that I don't know. I suppose we all want some kind of hope; one cannot live in darkness forever." What is fused cannot be pulled apart; what is integrated cannot be destroyed; if the fusion is there, death cannot separate. Integration is not with another, but with and in oneself. The fusion of the different entities in oneself is completeness with the other; but completeness with the other is incompleteness in oneself. Fusion with the other is still incompleteness. The integrated entity is not made whole by another; because he is complete, there is completeness in all his relationships. What is incomplete cannot be made complete in relationship. It is illusion to think we are made complete by another. "I was made complete by him. I knew the beauty and the joy of it." But it has come to an end. There is always an ending to that which is incomplete. The fusion with the other is always breakable; it is always ceasing to be. Integration must begin within oneself, and only then is fusion indestructible. The way of integration is the process of negative thinking which is the highest comprehension. Are you seeking integration? "I don't know what I am seeking, but I would like to understand hope, because hope seems to play an important part in our life. When he was alive, I never thought of the future, I never thought of hope or happiness; tomorrow did not exist as far as I was concerned. I just lived, without a care." Because you were happy. But now unhappiness, discontent, is creating the future, the hope - or its opposite, despair and hopelessness. It is strange, is it not? When one is happy, time is nonexistent, yesterday and tomorrow are wholly absent; one has no thought for the past or the future. But unhappiness makes for hope and despair. "We are born with hope and we take it with us to death." Yes, that is just what we do; or rather, we are born in misery, and hope takes us to death. What do you mean by hope? "Hope is tomorrow, the future, the longing for happiness for the betterment of today, for the advancement of oneself; it is the desire to have a nicer home, a better piano or radio; it is the dream of social improvement, a happier world, and so on." Is hope only in the future? Is there not hope also in the what has been, in the hold of the past? Hope is in both the forward and the backward movement of thought. Hope is the process of time, is it not? Hope is the desire for the continuation of that which has been pleasant, of that which can be improved, made better; and its opposite is hopelessness, despair. We swing between hope and despair. We say that we live because there is hope; and hope is in the past, or, more frequently, in the future. The future is the hope of every politician, of every reformer and revolutionary, of every seeker after virtue and what we call God. We say that we live by hope; but do we? Is it living when the future or the past dominates us? Is living a movement of the past to the future? When there is concern for tomorrow, are you living? It is because tomorrow has become so important that there is hopelessness, despair. If the future is all important and you live for it and by it, then the past is the means of despair. For the hope of tomorrow, you sacrifice today; but happiness is ever in the now. It is the unhappy who fill their lives with concern for tomorrow, which they call hope. To live happily is to live without hope. The man of hope is not a happy man, he knows despair. The state of hopelessness projects hope or resentment, despair or the bright future. "But are you saying that we must live without hope?" Is there not a state which is neither hope nor hopelessness, a state which is bliss? After all, when you considered yourself happy, you had no hope, had you? "I see what you mean. I had no hope because he was beside me and I was happy to live from day to day. But now he is gone, and... We are free of hope only when we are happy. It is when we are unhappy, disease ridden, oppressed, exploited, that tomorrow becomes important; and if tomorrow is impossible, we are in complete darkness, in despair. But how is one to remain in the state of happiness?" First see the truth of hope and hopelessness. Just see how you have been held by the false, by the illusion of hope, and then by despair. Be passively watchful of this process - which is not as easy as it sounds. You ask how to remain in the state of happiness. Is not this very question based essentially on hope? You wish to regain what you have lost, or through some means to possess it again. This question indicates the desire to gain, to become, to arrive, does it not? When you have an objective, an end in view, there is hope; so again you are caught in your own unhappiness. The way of hope is the way of the future, but happiness is never a matter of time. When there was happiness, you never asked how to continue in it; if you had asked, you would have already tasted unhappiness. "You mean this whole problem arises only when one is in conflict, in misery. But when one is miserable one wants to get out of it which is natural." The desire to find a way out only brings another problem. By not understanding the one problem, you introduce many others. Your problem is unhappiness, and to understand it there must be freedom from all other problems. Unhappiness is the only problem you have; don't become confused by introducing the further problem of how to get out of it. The mind is seeking a hope, an answer to the problem, a way out. See the falseness of this escape, and then you will be directly confronted with the problem. It is this direct relationship with the problem that brings a crisis, which we are all the time avoiding; but it is only in the fullness and intensity of the crisis that the problem comes to an end. "Ever since the fatal accident I have felt that I must get lost in my own despair, nourish my own hopelessness; but somehow it has been too much for me. Now I see that I must face it without fear, and without the feeling of disloyalty to him. You see, I felt deep down that I would in some way be disloyal to him if I continued to be happy; but now the burden is already lifting, and I sense a happiness which is not of time." COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES II CHAPTER 22 'THE MIND AND THE KNOWN' THE DAILY PATTERN of life was repeating itself around the only water tap in the village; the water was running slowly, and a group of women were awaiting their turn. Three of them were noisily and bitterly quarrelling; they were completely absorbed in their anger and paid not the slightest attention to anyone else,nor was anyone paying attention to them. It must have been a ritual. Like all rituals, it was stimulating, and these women were enjoying the stimulation. An old woman helped a young one to lift a big, brightly polished brass pot onto her head. She had a little pad of cloth to bear the weight of the pot, which she held lightly with one hand. Her walk was superb, and she had great dignity. A little girl came quietly, slipped her pot under the tap, and carried it away without saying a word. Other women came and went, but the quarrel went on, and it seemed as though it would never end. Suddenly the three stopped filled their vessels with water, and went away as though nothing had happened. By now the sun was getting strong, and smoke was rising above the thatched roofs of the village. The day's first meal was being cooked. How suddenly peaceful it was! Except for the crows, almost everything was quiet. Once the vociferous quarrel was over, one could hear the roar of the sea beyond the houses, the gardens and the palm groves. We carry on like machines with our tiresome daily routine. How eagerly the mind accepts a pattern of existence, and how tenaciously it clings to it! As by a driven nail, the mind is held together by idea, and around the idea it lives and has its being. The mind is never free, pliable, for it is always anchored; it moves within the radius, narrow or wide, of its own centre. From its centre it dare not wander; and when it does, it is lost in fear. Fear is not of the unknown, but of the loss of the known. The unknown does not incite fear, but dependence on the known does. Fear is always with desire, the desire for the more or for the less. The mind, with its incessant weaving of patterns, is the maker of time; and with time there is fear, hope and death. Hope leads to death. He said he was a revolutionary; he wanted to blast every social structure and start all over again. He had eagerly worked for the extreme left, for the proletarian revolution, and that too had failed. Look what had happened in the country where that revolution was so gloriously accomplished! Dictatorship, with its police and its army, had inevitably bred new class distinctions, and all within a few years; what had been a glorious promise had come to nothing. He wanted a deeper and wider revolution to be started all over again, taking care to avoid all the pitfalls of the former revolution. What do you mean by revolution? "A complete change of the present social structure, with or without bloodshed, according to a clear-cut plan. To be effective, it must be well thought out, organized in every detail and scrupulously executed. Such a revolution is the only hope, there is no other way out of this chaos." But won't you have the same results again - compulsion and its officers? "It may at first result in that, but we will break through it. There will always be a separate and united group outside the government to watch over and guide it." You want a revolution according to a pattern, and your hope is in tomorrow, for which you are willing to sacrifice yourself and others. Can there be a fundamental revolution if it is based on idea? Ideas inevitably breed further ideas, further resistance and suppression. Belief engenders antagonism; one belief gives rise to many, and there are hostility and conflict. Uniformity of belief is not peace. Idea or opinion invariably creates opposition, which those in power must always seek to suppress. A revolution based on idea brings into being a counter-revolution, and the revolutionary spends his life fighting other revolutionaries, the better organized liquidating the weaker. You will be repeating the same pattern, will you not? Would it be possible to talk over the deeper significance of revolution? "It would have little value unless it led to a definite end. A new society must be built, and revolution according to a plan is the only way to achieve it. I don't think I will change my views, but let us see what you have to say. What you will say has probably already been said by Buddha, Christ, and other religious teachers, and where has it got us? Two thousand years and more of preaching about being good, and look at the mess the capitalists have made!" A society based on idea, shaped according to a particular pattern, breeds violence and is in a constant state of disintegration. A patterned society functions only within the frame of its self-projected belief. Society, the group, can never be in a state of revolution; only the individual can. But if he is revolutionary according to a plan, a well-authenticated conclusion, he is merely conforming to a self-projected ideal or hope. He is carrying out his own conditioned responses, modified perhaps, but limited all the same. A limited revolution is no revolution at all; like reform, it is a retrogression. A revolution based on deduction and conclusions, is but a modified continuity of the old pattern. For a fundamental and lasting revolution we must understand the mind and idea. "What do you mean by idea? Do you mean knowledge?" Idea is the projection of the mind; idea is the outcome of experience, and experience is knowledge. Experience is always interpreted according to the conscious or unconscious conditioning of the mind. The mind is experience, the mind is idea; the mind is not separate from the quality of thought. Knowledge, accumulated and accumulating, is the process of the mind. Mind is experience, memory, idea, it is the total process of response. Till we understand the working of the mind of consciousness, there cannot be a fundamental transformation of man and his relationships, which constitute society. "Are you suggesting that the mind as knowledge is the real enemy of revolution, and that the mind can never produce the new plan, the new State? If you mean that because the mind is still linked with the past it can never comprehend the new, and that whatever it may plan or create is the outcome of the old, then how can there ever be any change at all?" Let us see. Mind is held in a pattern; its very existence is the frame within which it works and moves. The pattern is of the past or the future, it is despair and hope, confusion and Utopia, the what has been and the what should be. With this we are all familiar. You want to break the old pattern and substitute a `new' one, the new being the modified old. You call it the new for your own purposes and manoeuvres, but it is still the old. The so-called new has its roots in the old: greed, envy, violence, hatred, power, exclusion. Embedded in these, you want to produce a new world. It is impossible. You may deceive yourself and others, but unless the old pattern is broken completely there cannot be a radical transformation. You may play around with it, but you are not the hope of the world. The breaking of the pattern, both the old and the so-called new, is of the utmost importance if order is to come out of this chaos. That is why it is essential to understand the ways of the mind. The mind functions only within the field of the known, of experience whether conscious or unconscious, collective or superficial. Can there be action without a pattern? Until now we have known action only in relation to a pattern, and such action is always an approximation to what has been or what should be. Action so far has been an adjustment to hope and fear, to the past or to the future. "If action is not a movement of the past to the future, or between the past and the future then what other action can there possibly be? You are not inviting us to inaction, are you?" It would be a better world if each one of us were aware of true inaction, which is not the opposite of action. But that is another matter. Is it possible for the mind to be without a pattern, to be free of this backward and forward swing of desire? It is definitely possible. Such action is living in the now. To live is to be without hope, without the care of tomorrow; it is not hope- lessness or indifference. But we are not living, we are always pursuing death, the past or the future. Living is the greatest revolution. Living has no pattern, but death has: the past or the future, the what has been or the Utopia. You are living for the Utopia, and so you are inviting death and not life. "That is all very well, but it leads us nowhere. Where is your revolution? Where is action? Where is there a new manner of living?" Not in death but in life. You are pursuing the ideal, the hope, and this pursuit you call action, revolution. Your ideal, your hope is the projection of the mind away from what is. The mind, being the result of the past, is bringing out of itself a pattern for the new, and this you call revolution. Your new life is the same old one in different clothes. The past and the future do not hold life; they have the remembrance of life and the hope of life, but they are not the living. The action of the mind is not living. The mind can act only within the frame of death, and revolution based on death is only more darkness, more destruction and misery. "You leave me utterly empty, almost naked. It may be spiritually good for me, there is a lightness of heart and mind, but it is not so helpful in terms of collective revolutionary action." COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES II CHAPTER 23 CONFORMITY AND FREEDOM THE STORM BEGAN early in the morning with thunder and lightning, and now it was raining very steadily; it had not stopped all day, and the red earth was soaking it up. The cattle were taking shelter under a large tree, where there was also a small white temple. The base of the tree was enormous, and the surrounding field was bright green. There was a railway line on the other side of the field, and the trains would labour up the slight incline, giving a triumphant hoot at the top. When one walked along the railway line one would occasionally come upon a large cobra, with beautiful markings, cut in two by a recent train. The birds would soon get at the dead pieces, and in a short time there wouldn't be a sign of the snake. To live alone needs great intelligence; to live alone and yet be pliable is arduous. To live alone, without the walls of self-enclosing gratifications, needs extreme alertness; for a solitary life encourages sluggishness, habits that are comforting and hard to break. A single life encourages isolation, and only the wise can live alone without harm to themselves and to others. Wisdom is alone, but a lonely path does not lead to wisdom. Isolation is death, and wisdom is not found in withdrawal. There is no path to wisdom, for all paths are separative, exclusive. In their very nature, paths can only lead to isolation, though these isolations are called unity, the whole, the one, and so on. A path is an exclusive process; the means is exclusive, and the end is as the means. The means is not separate from the goal, the what should be. Wisdom comes with the understanding of one's relationship with the field, with the passer-by, with the fleeting thought. To withdraw, to isolate oneself in order to find, is to put an end to discovery. Relationship leads to an aloneness that is not of isolation. There must be an aloneness, not of the enclosing mind, but of freedom. The complete is the alone, and incompleteness seeks the way of isolation. She had been a writer, and her books had quite a wide circulation. She said she had managed to come to India only after many years. When she first started out she had no idea where she would end up; but now, after all this time, her destination had become clear. Her husband and her whole family were interested in religious matters, not casually but quite seriously; nevertheless she had made up her mind to leave them all, and had come in the hope of finding some peace. She hadn't known a soul in this country when she came, and it was very hard the first year. She went first to a certain ashrama or retreat about which she had read. The guru there was a mild old man who had had certain religious experiences on which he now lived, and who constantly repeated some Sanskrit saying which his disciples understood. She was welcomed at this retreat, and she found it easy to adjust herself to its rules. She remained there for several months, but found no peace, so one day she announced her departure. The disciples were horrified that she could even think of leaving such a master of wisdom; but she left. Then she went to an ashrama among the mountains and stayed there for some time, happily at first, for it was beautiful with trees, streams, and wild life. The discipline was rather rigorous, which she didn't mind; but again the living were the dead. The disciples were worshipping dead knowledge, dead tradition, a dead teacher. When she left they also were shocked, and threatened her with spiritual darkness. She then went to a very well known retreat where they repeated various religious assertions and regularly practiced prescribed meditations; but gradually she found that she was being entrapped and destroyed. Neither the teacher nor the disciples wanted freedom, though they talked about it. They were all concerned with maintaining the centre, with holding the disciples in the name of the guru. Again she broke away and went elsewhere; again the same story with a slightly different pattern. "I assure you, I have been to most of the serious ashramas, and they all want to hold one, to grind one down to fit the pattern of thought which they call truth. Why do they all want one to conform to a particular discipline, to the mode of life laid down by the teacher? Why is it that they never give freedom but only promise freedom?" Conformity is gratifying; it assures security to the disciple, and gives power to the disciple as well as to the teacher. Through conformity there is the strengthening of authority, secular or religious; and conformity makes for dullness, which they call peace. If one wants to avoid suffering through some form of resistance, why not pursue that path, though it involves a certain amount of pain? Conformity anaesthetizes the mind to conflict. We want to be made dull, insensitive; we try to shut off the ugly, and there by we also make ourselves dull to the beautiful. Conformity to the authority of the dead or the living gives intense satisfaction. The teacher knows and you don't know. It would be foolish for you to try to find out anything for yourself when your comforting teacher already knows; so you become his slave, and slavery is better than confusion. The teacher and the disciple thrive on mutual exploitation. You really don't go to an ashrama for freedom, do you? You go there to be comforted, to live a life of enclosing discipline and belief, to worship and in turn be worshipped - all of which is called the search for truth. They cannot offer freedom, for it would be their own undoing. Freedom cannot be found in any retreat, in any system or belief, nor through the conformity and fear called discipline. Disciplines cannot offer freedom; they may promise, but hope is not freedom. Imitations a means to freedom is the very denial of freedom, for the means is the end; copy makes for more copy, not for freedom. But we like to deceive ourselves, and that is why compulsion or the promise of reward exists in different and subtle forms. Hope is the denial of life. "I am now avoiding all ashramas like the very plague. I went to them for peace and I was given compulsions, authoritarian doctrines and vain promises. How eagerly we accept the guru promise! How blind we are! At last, after these many years, I am completely denuded of any desire to pursue their promised rewards. physically I am worn out, as you can see; for very foolishly I really did try their formulas. At one of these places, where the teacher is on the rise and very popular, when I told them that I was coming to see you, they threw up their hands, and some had tears in their eyes. That was the last straw! I have come here because I want to talk over something that is gripping my heart. I hinted at it to one of the teachers, and his reply was that I must control my thought. It is this. The ache of solitude is more than I can bear; not the physical solitude, which is welcome, but the deep inner pain of being alone. What am I to do about it? How am I to regard this void?" When you ask the way, you become a follower. Because there is this ache of solitude, you want help, and the very demand for guidance opens the door to compulsion, imitation and fear. The`how' is not at all important, so let us understand the nature of this pain rather than try to overcome it, avoid it, or go beyond it. Till there is complete understanding of this ache of solitude, there can be no peace, no rest, but only incessant struggle; and whether we are aware of it or not, most of us are violently or subtly trying to escape from its fear. This ache is only in relation to the past, and not in relation to what is. What is has to be discovered, not verbally, theoretically, but directly experienced. How can there be discovery of what actually is if you approach it with a sense of pain or fear? To understand it must you not come to it freely, denuded of past knowledge concerning it? Must you not come with a fresh mind, unclouded by memories, by habitual responses? please do not ask how the mind is to be free to see the new, but listen to the truth of it. Truth alone liberates, and not your desire to be free. The very desire and effort to be free is a hindrance to liberation. To understand the new, must not the mind, with all its conclusions, safeguards, cease its activities? Must it not be still, without seeking a way of escape from this solitude, a remedy for it? Must not the ache of solitude be observed, with its movement of despair and hope? Is it not this very movement that makes for solitude and its fear? Is not the very activity of the mind a process of isolation, resistance? Is not every form of relationship the mind a way of separation, withdrawal? Is not experience itself a process of self-isolation? So the problem is not the ache of solitude, but the mind which projects the problem. The understanding of the mind is the beginning of freedom. Freedom is not something in the future, it is the very first step. The activity of the mind can be understood only in the process of response to every kind of stimulation. Stimulation and response are relationship at all levels. Accumulation in any form, as knowledge, as experience, as belief, prevents freedom; and it is only when there is freedom that truth can be. "But is not effort necessary the effort to understand?" Do we understand anything through struggle, through conflict? Does not understanding come when the mind is utterly still, when the action of effort has ceased? The mind that is made still is not a tranquil mind; it is a dead, insensitive mind. When desire is, the beauty of silence is not. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES II CHAPTER 24 'TIME AND CONTINUITY' THE EVENING LIGHT was on the water, and the dark trees were against the setting sun. A crowded bus went by, followed by a big car with smart people in it. A child passed rolling a hoop. A woman with a heavy load stopped to adjust it, then continued on her weary way. A boy on a bicycle saluted someone, and was intent on getting home. Several women walked by, and a man stopped, lit a cigarette, threw the match in the water, looked around, and went on. No one seemed to notice the colours on the water and the dark trees against the sky. A girl came along carrying a baby, talking and pointing to the darkening waters to amuse and distract it. Lights were appearing in the houses, and the evening star was beginning to sail the heavens. There is a sadness of which we are so little aware. We know the ache and sorrow of personal strife and confusion; we know utility and the misery of frustration; we know the fullness of joy and its transiency. We know our own sorrow, but we are not aware of the sadness of the other. How can we be when we are enclosed in our own misfortunes and trials? When our hearts are weary and dull, how can we feel the weariness of another? Sadness is so exclusive, isolating and destructive. How quickly the smile fades! Everything seems to end in sorrow, the ultimate isolation. She was very well read, capable and direct. She had studied sciences and religion, and had carefully followed modern psychology. Though still quite young, she had been married - with the usual miseries of marriage she added. Now she was footloose and eager to find something more than the usual conditioning, to feel her way beyond the limits of the mind. Her studies had opened her mind to possibilities beyond the conscious and the collective gatherings of the past. She had attended several of the talks and discussions, she explained, and had felt that a source common to all the great teachers was active; she had listened with care and had understood a great deal, and had now come to discuss the inexhaustible and the problem of time. "What is the source beyond time, that state of being which is not within the reasoning of the mind? What is the timeless, that creativity of which you have spoken?" Is it possible to be aware of the timeless? What is the test of knowing or being aware of it? How would you recognize it? By what would you measure it? "We can only judge by its effects." But judging is of time; and are the effects of the timeless to be judged by the measurement of time? If we can understand what we mean by time, perhaps it may be possible for the timeless to be; but is it possible to discuss what that timeless is? Even if both of us are aware of it, can we talk about it? We may talk about it, but our experience will not be the timeless. It can never be talked about or communicated except through the means of time; but the word is not the thing, and through time the timeless obviously cannot be understood. Timelessness is a state which comes only when time is not. So let us rather consider what we mean by time. "There are different kinds of time: time as growth, time as distance, time as movement." Time is chronological and also psychological. Time as growth is the small becoming the large, the bullock cart evolving into the jet plane, the baby becoming the man. The heavens are filled with growth, and so is the earth. This is an obvious fact, and it would be stupid to deny it. Time as distance is more complex. "It is known that a human being can be in two different places at the same time - at one place for several hours, and at another for a few minutes during the same period." Thought can and does wander far afield while the thinker remains in one place. "I am not referring to that phenomenon. A person, a physical entity, has been known to be in two widely separated places simultaneously. However our point is time." Yesterday using today as a passage to tomorrow the past flowing through the present to the future, is one movement of time, not three separate movements. We know time as chronological and psychological, growth and becoming. There is the growth of the seed into the tree, and there is the process of psychological becoming. Growth is fairly clear, so let us put that aside for the time being. Psychological becoming implies time. I am this and I shall become that, using time as a passage, as a means; the what has been is becoming the what will be. We are very familiar with this process. So thought is time, the thought that has been and the thought that will be, the what is and the ideal. Thought is the product of time, and without the thinking process, time is not. The mind is the maker of time, it is time. "That is obviously true. Mind is the maker and user of time. Without the mind-process, time is not. But is it possible to go beyond the mind? Is there a state which is not of thought?" Let us together discover whether there is such a state or not. Is love thought? We may think of someone we love; when the other is absent, we think of him, or we have an image, a photograph of him. The separation makes for thought. "Do you mean that when there is oneness, thought ceases and there is only love?" Oneness implies duality, but that is not the point. Is love a thought process? Thought is of time; and is love time-binding? Thought is bound by time, and you are asking if it is possible to be free from the binding quality of time. "It must be, otherwise there could be no creation. Creation is possible only when the process of continuity ceases. Creation is the new, the new vision, the new invention, the new discovery, the new formulation, not the continuity of the old." Continuity is death to creation. "But how is it possible to put an end to continuity?" What do we mean by continuity? What makes for continuity? What is it that joins moment to moment, as the thread joins the beads in a necklace? The moment is the new, but the new is absorbed into the old and so the chain of continuity is formed. Is there ever the new, or only recognition of the new by the old? If the old recognizes the new, is it the new? The old can recognize only its own projection; it may call it the new, but it is not. The new is not recognizable; it is a state of non-recognition, non-association. The old gives itself continuity through its own projections; it can never know the new. The new may be translated into the old, but the new cannot be with the old. The experiencing of the new is the absence of the old. The experience and its expression is thought, idea; thought translates the new in terms of the old. It is the old that gives continuity; the old is memory, the word, which is time. "How is it possible to put an end to memory?" Is it possible? The entity that desires to put an end to memory is himself the forger of memory; he is not apart from memory. That is so is it not? "Yes, the maker of effort is born of memory, of thought; thought is the outcome of the past, conscious or unconscious. Then what is one to do?" Please listen, and you will do naturally, without effort, what is essential. Desire is thought; desire forges the chain of memory. Desire is effort, the action of will. Accumulation is the way of desire; to accumulate is to continue. Gathering experience knowledge, power or things, makes for continuity and to deny these is to continue negatively. positive and negative continuance are similar. The gathering centre is desire, the desire for the more or the less. This centre is the self, placed at different levels according to one's conditioning. Any activity of this centre only brings about the further continuity of itself. Any move is time-binding; it prevents creation. The timeless is not with the time-binding quality of memory. The limitless is not to be measured by memory, by experience. There is the unnameable only when experience, knowledge, has wholly ceased. Truth alone frees the mind from its own bondage. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES II CHAPTER 25 'THE FAMILY AND THE DESIRE FOR SECURITY' WHAT AN UGLY thing it is to be satisfied! Contentment is one thing and satisfaction another. Satisfaction makes the mind dull and the heart weary; it leads to superstition and sluggishness, and the edge of sensitivity is lost. It is those who are seeking gratification and those who have it that bring confusion and misery; it is they who breed the smelly village and the noisy town. They build temples for the graven image and perform satisfying rituals; they foster class segregation and war; they are forever multiplying the means of gratification; money, politics, power and religious organizations are their ways. They burden the earth with the irrespectability and its lamentations. But contentment is another matter. It is arduous to be content. Contentment cannot be searched out in secret places; it is not to be pursued, as pleasure is; it is not to be acquired; it cannot be bought at the price of renunciation; it has no price at all; it is not reached by any means; it is not to be meditated upon and gathered. The pursuit of contentment is only the search for greater satisfaction. Contentment is the complete understanding of what is from moment to moment; it is the highest form of negative understanding. Gratification knows frustration and success, but contentment knows no opposites with their empty conflict. Contentment is above and beyond the opposites; it is not a synthesis, for it has no relation to conflict. Conflict can only produce more conflict, it breeds further illusion and misery. With contentment comes action that is not contradictory. Contentment of the heart frees the mind from its activities of confusion and distraction. Contentment is a movement that is not of time. She explained that she had taken her master's degree in science, with honours, had taught, and had done some social work. In the short time since her graduation she had travelled about the country doing various things: teaching mathematics in one place, doing social work in another, helping her mother, and organizing for a society to which she belonged. She was not in politics, because she considered it the pursuit of personal ambition and a stupid waste of time. She had seen through all that, and was now about to be married. Have you made up your own mind whom to marry, or are your parents arranging the matter? "Probably my parents. Perhaps it is better that way." Why, if I may ask? "In other countries the boy and girl fall in love with each other; it may be all right at the beginning, but soon there is contention and misery, the quarrelling and making up, the tedium of pleasure and the routine of life. The arranged marriage in this country ends the same way, the fun goes out of it, so there isn't much to choose between the two systems. They are both pretty terrible, but what is one to do? After all, one must marry, one can't remain single all one's life. It is all very sad, but at least the husband gives a certain security and children are a joy; one can't have one without the other." But what happens to all the years that you spent in acquiring your master's degree? "I suppose one will play with it, but children and the household work will take most of one's time." Then what good has your so-called education done? Why spend so much time, money and effort to end up in the kitchen? Don't you want to do any kind of teaching or social work after your marriage? "Only when there is time. Unless one is well-to-do, it is impossible to have servants and all the rest of it. I am afraid all those days will be over once I get married - and I want to get married. Are you against marriage?" Do you regard marriage as an institution to establish a family? Is not the family a unit in opposition to society? Is it not a centre from which all activity radiates, an exclusive relationship that dominates every other form of relationship? Is it not a self-enclosing activity that brings about division, separation the high and the low, the powerful and the weak? The family as a system appears to resist the whole; each family opposes other families, other groups. Is not the family with its property one of the causes of war? "If you are opposed to the family, then you must be for the collectivization of men and women in which their children belong to the State." Please don't jump to conclusions. To think in terms of formulas and systems only brings about opposition and contention. You have your system, and another his; the two systems fight it out, each seeking to liquidate the other but the problem still remains. "But if you are against the family, then what are you for?" Why put the question that way? If there is a problem, is it not stupid to take sides according to one's prejudice? Is it not better to understand the problem than to breed opposition and enmity, thereby multiplying our problems? The family as it is now is a unit of limited relationship, self-enclosing and exclusive. Reformers and so-called revolutionaries have tried to do away with this exclusive family spirit which breeds every kind of antisocial activity; but it is a centre of stability as opposed to insecurity, and the present social structure throughout the world cannot exist without this security. The family is not a mere economic unit and any effort to solve the issue on that level must obviously fail. The desire for security is not only economic, but much more profound and complex. If man destroys the family, he will find other forms of security through the State, through the collective, through belief and soon, which will in turn breed their own problems. We must understand the desire for inward, psychological security and not merely replace one pattern of security with another. So the problem is not the family, but the desire to be secure. Is not the desire for security, at any level, exclusive? This spirit of exclusiveness shows itself as the family, as property, as the State, the religion, and so on. Does not this desire for inward security build up outward forms of security which are always exclusive? The very desire to be secure destroys security. Exclusion, separation, must inevitably bring about disintegration; nationalism, class-antagonism and war, are its symptoms. The family as a means of inward security is a source of disorder and social catastrophe. "Then how is one to live, if not as a family?" Is it not odd how the mind is always looking for a pattern, a blueprint? Our education is in formulas and conclusions. The `how' is the demand for a formula, but formulas cannot resolve the problem. Please understand the truth of this. It is only when we do not seek inward security that we can live outwardly secure. As long as the family is a centre of security, there will be social disintegration; as long as the family is used as a means to a self-protective end, there must be conflict and misery. Please do not look puzzled, it is fairly simple. As long as I use you or another for my inner, psychological security, I must be exclusive; I am all-important, I have the greatest significance; it is my family, my property. The relationship of utility is based on violence; the family as a means of mutual inward security makes for conflict and confusion. "I understand intellectually what you say but is it possible to live without this inward desire to be secure?" To understand intellectually is not to understand at all. You mean you hear the words and grasp their meaning, and that is all; but this will not produce action. Using another as a means of satisfaction and security is not love. Love is never security; love is a state in which there is no desire to be secure; it is a state of vulnerability; it is the only state in which exclusiveness, enmity and hate are impossible. In that state a family may come into being, but it will not be exclusive, self-enclosing. "But we do not know such love. How is one..?" It is good to be aware of the ways of one's own thinking. The inward desire for security expresses itself outwardly through exclusion and violence, and as long as its process is not fully understood there can be no love. Love is not another refuge in the search for security. The desire for security must wholly cease for love to be. Love is not something that can be brought about through compulsion. Any form of compulsion, at any level, is the very denial of love. A revolutionary with an ideology is not a revolutionary at all; he only offers a substitute, a different kind of security, a new hope; and hope is death. Love alone can bring about a radical revolution or transformation in relationship; and love is not a thing of the mind. Thought can plan and formulate magnificent structures of hope, but thought will only lead to further conflict, confusion and misery. Love is when the cunning, self-enclosing mind is not. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES II CHAPTER 26 'THE 'I'' "MEDITATION IS OF the greatest importance to me; I have been meditating very regularly twice a day for more than twenty-five years. At the beginning it was all very difficult, I had no control over my thoughts and there were far too many distractions; but I gradually cut them out pretty thoroughly. More and more I gave my time and energy to the final end. I have been to various teachers and have followed several different systems of meditation, but somehow I was never satisfied with any of them - perhaps `satisfaction' is not the right word. They all led to a certain point, depending on the particular system, and I found myself becoming a mere result of the system, which was not the final end. But from all these experimentations I have learned to master my thoughts completely, and my emotions also are entirely under control. I have practiced deep breathing to quiet the body and the mind. I have repeated the sacred word and fasted for long periods; morally I have been upright, and worldly things have no attraction for me. But after all these years of struggle and effort, of discipline and denial, there is not the peace, the bliss of which the Great Ones speak. On rare occasions there have been enlightening moments of deep ecstasy, the intuitive promise of greater things; but I seem unable to pierce the illusion of my own mind, and I am endlessly caught in it. A cloud of confusing despair is descending upon me and there is increasing sorrow." We were sitting on the bank of a wide river, close to the water. The town was up the river, some distance away. A boy was sing- ing on the other bank. The sun was setting behind us and there were heavy shadows on the water. It was a beautiful still evening with masses of clouds towards the east, and the deep river seemed hardly to be flowing. To all this expanding beauty he was completely oblivious; he was wholly absorbed in his problem. We were silent, and he had closed his eyes; his stern face was calm, but inwardly there was an intense struggle going on. A flock of birds settled down at the water's edge; their cries must have carried across the river, for presently another flock came from the other shore and joined them. There was a timeless silence covering the earth. During all these years, have you ever stopped striving after the final end? Do not will and effort make up the `I', and can the process of time lead to the eternal? "I have never consciously stopped striving after that for which my heart, my whole being longs. I dare not stop; if I did, I would fall back, I would deteriorate. It is the very nature of all things to struggle ever upwards, and without will and effort there would be stagnation; without this purposive striving, I could never go beyond and above myself." Can the `I' ever free itself from its own bondage and illusions? Must not the `I' cease for the nameless to be? And does not this constant striving after the final end only strengthen the self, however concentrated its desire may be? You struggle after the final end, and another pursues worldly things; your effort may be more ennobling, but it is still the desire to gain, is it not? "I have overcome all passion, all desire, except this one, which is more than desire; it is the only thing for which I live." Then you must die to this too, as you are dead to other longings and desires. Through all these years of struggle and constant limitation, you have strengthened yourself in this one purpose, but it is still within the field of the `I'. And you want to experience the unnameable - that is your longing, is it not? "Of course. Beyond a shadow of doubt I want to know the final end, I want to experience God." The experiencer is ever being conditioned by his experience. If the experiencer is aware that he is experiencing, then the experience is the outcome of his self-projected desires. If you know you are experiencing God, then that God is the projection of your hopes and illusions. There is no freedom for the experiencer, he is forever caught in his own experiences; he is the maker of time and he can never experience the eternal. "Do you mean to say that that which I have diligently built up, with considerable effort and through wise choice, must be destroyed? And must I be the instrument of its destruction?" Can the `I' positively set about abnegating itself? If it does, its motive, its intention is to gain that which is not to be possessed. Whatever its activity, however noble its aim, any effort on the part of the `I' is still within the field of its own memories, idiosyncrasies and projections, whether conscious or unconscious. The `I' may divide itself into the organic `I', and the `non-I' or transcendental self; but this dualistic separation is an illusion in which the mind is caught. Whatever may be the movement of the mind, of the `I', it can never free itself; it may go from level to level, from stupid to more intelligent choice, but its movement will always be within the sphere of its own making. "You seem to cut off all hope. What is one to do?" You must be completely denuded, without the weight of the past or the enticement of a hopeful future - which does not mean despair. If you are in despair, there is no emptiness, no nakedness. You cannot `do' anything. You can and must be still, without any hope, longing, or desire; but you cannot determine to be still, suppressing all noise, for in that very effort there is noise. Silence is not the opposite of noise. "But in my present state, what is to be done?" If it may be pointed out, you are so eager to get on, so impatient to have some positive direction, that you are not really listening. The evening star was reflected in the peaceful river. * * * Early next morning he came back. The sun was just showing itself above the treetops, and there was a mist over the river. A boat with wide sails, heavily laden with firewood, was lazily floating down the river; except for the one at the rudder, the men were all asleep on different parts of the boat. It was very still, and the daily human activities along the river had not yet begun. "In spite of my outward impatience and anxiety, inwardly I must have been alert to what you were saying yesterday, for when I woke up this morning there was a certain sense of freedom and a clarity that comes with understanding. I did my usual morning meditation for an hour before sunrise, and I am not at all sure that my mind isn't caught in a number of widening illusions. May we proceed from where we left off?" We cannot begin exactly where we left off, but we can look at our problem afresh. The outward and inward mind is ceaselessly active receiving impressions; caught in its memories and reactions; it is an aggregate of many desires and conflicts. It functions only within the field of time, and in that field there is contradiction, the opposition of will or desire, which is effort. This psychological activity of the `I', of the `me' and the `mine',must cease, for such activity causes problems and brings about various forms of agitation and disorder. But any effort to stop this activity only makes for greater activity and agitation. "That is true, I have noticed it. The more one tries to make the mind still, the more resistance there is, and one's effort is spent in overcoming this resistance; so it becomes a vicious and unbreakable circle." If you are aware of the viciousness of this circle and realize that you cannot break it, then with this realization the censor, the observer, ceases to be. "That seems to be the most difficult thing to do: to suppress the observer. I have tried, but so far I have never been able to succeed. How is one to do it?" Are you not still thinking in terms of the `I' and the `non-I'? Are you not maintaining this dualism within the mind by word, by the constant repetition of experience and habit? After all, the thinker and his thought are not two different processes, but we make them so in order to attain a desired end. The censor comes into being with desire. Our problem is not how to suppress the censor, but to understand desire. "There must be an entity which is capable of understanding, a state which is apart from ignorance." The entity which says, `I understand' is still within the field of the mind; it is still the observer, the censor, is it not? "Of course it is; but I do not see how this observer can be eradicated. And can it be?" Let us see. We were saying that it is essential to understand desire. Desire can and does divide itself into pleasure and pain, wisdom and ignorance; one desire opposes another, the more profitable conflicts with the less profitable, and so on. Though for various reasons it may separate itself, desire is in fact an invisible process, is it not? "This is a difficult thing to grasp. I am so used to opposing one desire by another, to suppressing and transforming desire, that I cannot as yet be fully aware of desire as a single, unitary process; but now that you have pointed it out, I am beginning to feel that it is so." Desire may break itself up into many opposing and conflicting urges, but it is still desire. These many urges go to make up the`I', with its memories, anxieties, fears, and so on, and the entire activity of this `I' is within the field of desire; it has no other field of activity. That is so, is it not? "Please go on. I am listening with my whole being, trying to go beyond the words, deeply and without effort." Our problem, then, is this: is it possible for the activity of desire to come to an end voluntarily, freely, without any form of compulsion? It is only when this happens that the mind can be still. If you are aware of this as a fact, does not the activity of desire come to an end? "Only for a very brief period; then once again the habitual activity begins. How can this be stopped?.. But as I ask, I see the absurdity of asking!" You see how greedy we are; we want ever more and more. The demand for the cessation of the `I' becomes the new activity of the `I; but it is not new, it is merely another form of desire. Only when the mind is spontaneously still can the other, that which is not of the mind, come into being. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES II CHAPTER 27 'THE NATURE OF DESIRE' IT WAS A calm evening, but many white sails were on the lake. In the far distance a snowcovered peak hung as though suspended from the skies. The evening breeze from the north-east was not yet blowing, but there were ripples on the water towards the north and more boats were putting out. The water was very blue and the skies were very clear. It was a wide lake, but on sunny days the towns could be seen on the other side. In this little bay, secluded and forgotten, it was very peaceful; there were no tourists, and the steamboat that went round the lake never came here. Nearby was a village of fishermen; and as the weather promised to be clear, there would be small boats, with lanterns, fishing late into the night. In the enchantment of evening they were preparing their nets and their boats. The valleys were in deep shadow, but the mountains still held the sun. We had been walking for some time and we sat down by the path, for he had come to talk things over. "As far back as I can remember, I have had endless conflict, mostly within myself, though sometimes it manifests outwardly. I am not greatly worried by any outward conflict, as I have learnt to adjust myself to circumstances. This adjustment has been painful, however, for I am not easily persuaded or dominated. Life has been difficult, but I am efficient enough to make a good living. But all this is not my problem. What I cannot understand is this inward conflict which I am unable to control. I often wake up in the middle of the night from violent dreams, and I never seem to have a moment's respite from my conflict; it goes on beneath the everyday occupations, and frequently explodes in my more intimate relationships." What do you mean by conflict? What is the nature of it? "Outwardly I am a fairly busy man, and my work demands concentration and attention. When my mind is thus occupied, my inward conflicts are forgotten; but as soon as there is a lull in my work, I am back in my conflicts. These conflicts are of varying nature and at different levels. I want to be successful in my work, to be at the top of my profession, with plenty of money and all the rest of it, and I know I can be. At another level, I am aware of the stupidity of my ambition. I love the good things of life, and opposed to that, I want to lead a simple, almost an ascetic existence. I hate a number of people, and yet I want to forget and forgive. I can go on giving you instances, but I am sure you can understand the nature of my conflicts. Instinctively I am a peaceful person, yet anger is easy for me. I am very healthy - which may be a misfortune, at least in my case. Outwardly I give the appearance of being calm and steady, but I am agitated and confused by my inward conflicts. I am well over thirty, and I really want to break through the confusion of my own desires. You see, another of my difficulties is that I find it almost impossible to talk these things over with anybody. This is the first time in many years that I have opened up a little. I am not secretive, but I hate to talk about myself and I could not possibly do so with any psychologist. Knowing all this, can you tell me whether it is possible for me to have some kind of inward serenity?" Instead of trying to do away with conflict, let us see if we can understand this agglomeration of desire. Our problem is to see the nature of desire, and not merely to overcome conflict; for it is desire that causes conflict. Desire is stimulated by association and remembrance; memory is part of desire. The recollection of the pleasant and the unpleasant nourishes desire and breaks it up into opposing and conflicting desires. The mind identifies itself with the pleasant as opposed to the unpleasant; through the choice of pain and pleasure the mind separates desire, dividing it into different categories of pursuits and values. "Though there are many conflicting and opposing desires, all desires are one. Is that it?" That is so, is it not? And it is really important to understand this, otherwise the conflict between opposing desires is endless. The dualism of desire, which the mind has brought about, is an illusion. There is no dualism in desire, but merely different types of desire. There is dualism only between time and eternity. Our concern is to see the unreality of the dualism of desire. Desire does divide itself into want and non-want, but the avoidance of the one and the pursuit of the other is still desire. There is no escape from conflict through any of the opposites of desire, for desire itself breeds its own opposition. "I see rather vaguely that what you say is a fact, but it is also a fact that I am still torn between many desires." It is a fact that all desire is one and the same, and we cannot alter that fact, twist it to suit our convenience and pleasure, or use it as an instrument to free ourselves from the conflicts of desire; but if we see it to be true then it has the power to set the mind free from breeding illusion. So we must be aware of desire breaking itself up into separate and conflicting parts. We are these opposing and conflicting desires we are the whole bundle of them, each pulling in a different direction. "Yes, but what can we do about it?" Without first catching a glimpse of desire as a single unit, whatever we may or may not do will be of very little significance, for desire only multiplies desire and the mind is trapped in this conflict. There is freedom from conflict only when desire, which makes up the `I' with its remembrances and recognitions, comes to an end. "When you say that conflict ceases only with the cessation of desire, does this imply an end to one's active life?" It may or it may not. It is foolish on our part to speculate about what kind of life it will be without desire. "You surely do not mean that organic wants must cease." Organic wants are moulded and expanded by psychological desires; we are talking of these desires. "Can we go more deeply into the functioning of these inner cravings?" Desires are both open and hidden, conscious and concealed. The concealed are of far greater significance than the obvious; but we cannot become familiar with the deeper if the superficial are not understood and tamed. It is not that the conscious desires must be suppressed, sublimated, or moulded to any pattern, but they must be observed and quieted. With the calming of superficial agitation, there is a possibility that the deeper desires, motives and intentions will come to the surface. "How is one to quiet the surface agitation? I see the importance of what you are saying, but I do not quite see how to approach the problem, how to experiment with it." The experimenter is not separate from that with which he is experimenting. The truth of this must be seen. You who are experimenting with your desires are not an entity apart from those desires, are you? The `I' who says, `I will suppress this desire and go after that', is himself the outcome of all desire, is he not? "One can feel that it is so, but actually to realize it, is quite another matter." If as each desire arises there is an awareness of this truth, then there is freedom from the illusion of the experimenter as a separate entity unrelated to desire. As long as the `I' exerts itself to be free from desire, it is only strengthening desire in another direction and so perpetuating conflict. If there is an awareness of this fact from moment to moment, the will of the censor ceases; and when the experiencer is the experience, then you will find that desire with its many varying conflicts comes to an end. "Will all this help one to a calmer and fuller life?" Certainly not at the beginning. It is sure to arouse more disturbances, and deeper adjustments may have to be made; but the deeper and wider one goes into this complex problem of desire and conflict, the simpler it becomes. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES II CHAPTER 28 'THE PURPOSE OF LIFE' THE ROAD IN front of the house went down to the sea, weaving its way past many small shops, great flats, garages, temples, and a dusty, neglected garden. When it reached the sea, the road became a big thoroughfare, with taxis, rattling buses, and all the noise of a modem city. Leading off this thoroughfare there was a peaceful, sheltered avenue overhung with huge rain-trees, but in the morning and evening it was busy with cars on their way to a smart club, with its golf course and lovely gardens. As I walked along this avenue there were various types of beggars lying on the pavement; they were not noisy, and did not even stretch out their hands to the passer-by. A girl about ten years old was lying with her head on a tin can, resting with wide open eyes; she was dirty, with matted hair, but she smiled as I smiled at her. Further along, a little girl, hardly three, came forward with outstretched hand and an enchanting smile. The mother was watching from behind a nearby tree. I took the outstretched hand and we walked together for a few paces, returning her to her mother. As I had no coin, I returned with one the next day, but the little girl would not take it, she wanted to play; so we played, and the coin was given to the mother. Whenever I walked along that avenue the little girl was always there, with a shy smile and bright eyes. Opposite the entrance to the fashionable club a beggar was seated on the ground; he was covered with a filthy gunnysack, and his matted hair was full of dust. Some days, as I went by, he would be lying down, his head in the dust, his naked body covered with the gunnysack; on other days he would be sitting up, perfectly still, looking without seeing, with the massive rain-tree over him. One evening there was gaiety at the club; it was all lit up, and sparkling cars full of laughing people were driving in, tooting their horns. From the clubhouse came light music loud and airfilling. Many policemen were at the entrance, where a large crowd had gathered to watch the smartly-dressed and well fed people pass by in their cars. The beggar had turned his back on all this. One man was offering him something to eat, and another a cigarette but he silently refused both without making a movement. He was slowly dying, day by day, and the people passed by. Those rain-trees were massive against the darkening sky, and of fantastic shape. They had very small leaves, but their branches seemed huge, and they had a strange majesty and aloofness in that overcrowded city of noise and pain. But the sea was there, everlastingly in motion, restless and infinite. There were white sails, mere specks in that infinitude, and on the dancing waters the moon made a path of silver. The rich beauty of the earth, the distant stars, and deathless humanity. Immeasurable vastness seemed to cover all things. He was a youngish man, and had come from the other side of the country, a tiresome journey. He had taken a vow not to marry till he had found the meaning and purpose of life. Determined and aggressive, he worked in some office from which he had taken leave for a certain period to try to find the answer to his search. He had a busy and argumentative mind, and was so taken up with his own and other people's answers that he would hardly listen. His words could not come fast enough, and he quoted endlessly what the philosophers and teachers had said concerning the purpose of life. He was tormented and deeply anxious. "Without knowing the purpose of life, my very existence has no meaning, and all my action is destructive. I earn a livelihood just to carry on; I suffer, and death awaits me. This is the way of life but what is the purpose of it all? I do not know. I have been to the learned, and to the various gurus; some say one thing, some another. What do you say?" Are you asking in order to compare what is said here with what has been said elsewhere? "Yes. Then I can choose, and my choice will depend on what I consider to be true." Do you think that the understanding of what is true is a matter of personal opinion and dependent on choice? Through choice will you discover what is true? "How else can one find the real if not through discrimination, through choice? I shall listen to you very carefully, and if what you say appeals to me, I shall reject what the others have said and pattern my life after the goal you have set. I am most earnest in my desire to find out what is the true purpose of life." Sir, before going any further, is it not important to ask your- self if you are capable of seeking out the true? This is suggested with respect, and not in a derogatory spirit. Is truth a matter of opinion, of pleasure, of gratification? You say that you will accept what appeals to you, which means that you are not interested in truth, but are after that which you find most gratifying. You are prepared to go through pain, through compulsion, in order to gain that which in the end is pleasurable. You are seeking pleasure, not truth. Truth must be something beyond like and dislike, must it not? Humility must be the beginning of all search. "That is why I have come to you, sir. I am really seeking; I look to the teachers to tell me what is true, and I shall follow them in a humble and contrite spirit." To follow is to deny humility. You follow because you desire to succeed, to gain an end. An ambitious man however subtle and hidden his ambition, is never humble. To pursue authority and set it up as a guide is to destroy insight, understanding. The pursuit of an ideal prevents humility, for the ideal is the glorification of the self, the ego. How can he who in different ways gives importance to the `me', ever be humble? Without humility, reality can never be. "But my whole concern in coming here is to find out what is the true purpose of life." If one may be permitted to say so, you are just caught up in an idea, and it is becoming a fixation. This is something of which one has to be constantly watchful. Wanting to know the true purpose of life, you have read many philosophers and sought out many teachers. Some say this, some say that, and you want to know the truth. Now, do you want to know the truth of what they say, or the truth of your own inquiry? "When you ask a straight question like that, I feel rather hesitant in my reply. There are people who have studied and experienced more than I ever can, and it would be absurd conceit on my part to discard what they say, which may help me to uncover the significance of life. But each one speaks according to his own experience and understanding, and they sometimes contradict each other. The Marxists say one thing, and the religious people say something quite different. Please help me to find the truth in all this." To see the false as the false, and the truth in the false, and the true as the true, is not easy. To perceive clearly, there must be freedom from desire, which twists and conditions the mind. You are so eager to find the true significance of life that your very eagerness becomes a hindrance to the understanding of your own inquiry. You want to know the truth of what you have read and of what your teachers have said, do you not? "Yes, most definitely." Then you must be able to find out for yourself what is true in all these statements. Your mind must be capable of direct perception; if it is not, it will be lost in the jungle of ideas, opinions and beliefs. If your mind has not the capacity to see what is true, you will be like a driven leaf. So what is important is not the conclusions and assertions of others, whoever they be, but for you to have insight into what is true. Is this not most essential? "I think it is, but how am I going to have this gift?" Understanding is not a gift reserved for the few, but it comes to those who are earnest in their self-knowledge. Comparison does not bring about understanding; comparison is another form of distraction, as judgment is evasion. For the truth to be, the mind must be without comparison, without evaluation. When the mind is comparing, evaluating, it is not quiet, it is occupied. An occupied mind is incapable of clear and simple perception. "Does it mean, then, that I must strip myself of all the values that I have built up, the knowledge that I have gathered?" Must not the mind be free to discover? Does knowledge, information - the conclusions and experiences of oneself and others, this vast accumulated burden of memory - bring freedom? Is there freedom as long as there is the censor who is judging, condemning, comparing? The mind is never quiet if it is always acquiring and calculating; and must not the mind be still for truth to be? "I see that, but aren't you asking too much of a simple and ignorant mind like mine?" Are you simple and ignorant? If you really were, it would be a great delight to begin with true inquiry; but unfortunately you are not. Wisdom and truth come to a man who truly says, "I am ignorant I do not know". The simple, the innocent, not those who are burdened with knowledge, will see the light, for they are humble. "I want only one thing, to know the true purpose of life, and you shower me with things that are beyond me. Can you not please tell me in simple words what is the true significance of life?" Sir, you must begin very near to go far. You want the immense without seeing what is close by. You want to know the significance of life. Life has no beginning and no end; it is both death and life; it is the green leaf, and the withered leaf that is driven by the wind; it is love and its immeasurable beauty, the sorrow of solitude and the bliss of aloneness. It cannot be measured, nor can the mind discover it. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES II CHAPTER 29 'VALUING AN EXPERIENCE' ON THE HOT rock in the burning sun the village women were spreading the paddy that had been kept in the storehouse. They had carried large bundles of it to the flat, sloping rock, and the two oxen that were tied to the tree would presently tread on the paddy to release the grain. The valley was far from any town, and the huge tamarind trees gave deep shadows. Through the valley a dusty road made its way to the village and beyond. Cattle and innumerable goats covered the hillsides. The rice fields were deep in water, and the white rice birds flew with lazy wings from one field to another; they seemed without fear, but they were shy and would not let one get near them. The mango trees were beginning to bloom, and the river made a cheerful noise with its clear running water. It was a pleasant land, and yet poverty hung over it like a plague. Voluntary poverty is one thing, but compulsory poverty is quite another. The villagers were poor and diseased, and although there was now a medical dispensary and food was distributed, the damage wrought by centuries of privation could not be wiped away in a few years. Starvation is not the problem of one community or of one country, but of the whole world. With the setting sun, a gentle breeze came from the east, and from the hills came strength. These hills were not high, but high enough to give to the air a soft coolness, so different from the plains. The stars seemed to hang down very close to the hills, and occasionally one would hear the cough of a leopard. That evening the light behind the darkening hills seemed to give greater meaning and beauty to all the things about one. As one sat on the bridge, the villagers going by on their way home suddenly stopped talking, and only resumed their conversation as they disappeared into the darkness. The visions that the mind can conjure up are so empty and dull; but when the mind does not build out of its own materials - memory and time - , there is that without name. A bullock cart, with a hurricane lamp burning, was coming up the road; slowly every part of the steel-bound wheel touched the hard ground. The driver was asleep, but the oxen knew their way home; they went by, and then they too were swallowed up in the darkness. It was intensely still now. The evening star was on the hill, but soon she would drop from sight. In the distance an owl was calling, and all about one the insect world of the night was alive and busy; yet the stillness was not broken. It held everything in it, the stars, the lonely owl, the myriad insects. If one listened to it, one lost it; but if one were of it, it welcomed one. The watcher can never be of this stillness; he is an outsider looking in, but he is not of it. The observer only experiences, he is never the experience, the thing itself. He had travelled all over the world, knew several languages, and had been a professor and a diplomat. In his youth he had been at Oxford, and having made his way through life rather strenuously, he had retired before the usual age. He was familiar with Western music, but liked the music of his own country best. He had studied the different religions, and had been particularly impressed with Buddhism; but after all, he added, stripped of their superstitions, dogmas and rituals, they all essentially said the same thing. Some of the rituals had beauty in them, but finance and romance had taken over most religions, and he himself was free of all rituals and dogmatic accretions. He had played around with thought-transference and hypnosis, and was acquainted with clairvoyance, but he had never looked upon them as an end in themselves. One could develop extended faculties of observation, greater control over matter, and so on, but all this seemed to him rather primitive and obvious. He had taken certain drugs, including the very latest, which for the time being had given him an intensity of perception and experience beyond the superficial sensations; but he had not given great importance to these experiences, for they did not in any way reveal the significance of that which he felt was beyond all ephemeral things. "I have tried various forms of meditation," he said, "and for a whole year I withdrew from all activity to be by myself and meditate. At different times I have read what you say about meditation, and was greatly struck by it. Right through from boyhood the very word `meditation', or its Sanskrit equivalent, has had a very strange effect upon me I have always found an extraordinary beauty and delight in meditation, and it is one of the few things that I have really enjoyed in life - if one may use such a word with regard to so profound a thing as meditation. That enjoyment has not gone from me, but has deepened and widened through the years, and what you said about meditation has opened new heavens to me. I don't want to ask you anything more about meditation, because I have read almost everything that you have so far said about it but I would like to talk over with you, if I may, an event that happened quite recently." He paused for a moment, and then went on. "From what I have told you, you can see that I am not the kind of person to create symbolic images and worship them. I have scrupulously avoided any identification with self-projected religious concepts or figures. One has read or heard that some of the saints - or at least some of those whom people have called saints - have had visions of Krishna, Christ, the Mother as Kali, the Virgin Mary, and so on. I can see how easily one could hypnotize oneself through a belief and evoke some vision which might radically alter the conduct of one's life. But I do not wish to be under any delusion; and having said all this, I want to describe something that took place a few weeks ago. "A group of us had been meeting fairly often to talk things over seriously, and one evening we were discussing rather heatedly the remarkable similarity between Communism and Catholicism, when suddenly there appeared in the room a seated figure, with yellow robe and shaven head. I was quite startled. I rubbed my eyes and looked at the faces of my friends. They were completely oblivious of the figure, and were so occupied with their discussion that they did not notice my silence. I shook my head coughed, and again rubbed my eyes, but the figure was still there. I cannot convey to you what a beautiful face it had; its beauty was not merely of form, but of something infinitely greater. I could not take my eyes off that face; and as it was getting to be too much for me, and not wanting my friends to notice my silence and my astonished absorption, I got up and went out on the veranda. The night air was fresh and cold. I walked up and down, and presently went in again. They were still talking; but the atmosphere of the room had changed, and the figure was still where it had been before, seated on the floor, with its extraordinary head cleanly shaven. I could not go on with what we had been discussing, and presently all of us left. As I walked home the figure went before me. That was several weeks ago, and it has still not left me though it has lost that forceful immanence. When I close my eyes, it is there, and something very strange has happened to me. But before I go into that, what is this experience? Is it a self-projection from the unconscious past, without my cognizance and conscious volition, or is it something wholly independent of me, without any relation to my consciousness? I have thought a great deal about the matter and I have not been able to find the truth of it." Now that you have had this experience, do you value it? Is it important to you, if one may ask, and do you hold on to it? "In a way, I suppose I do, if I am to answer honestly. It has given me a creative release - not that I write poems or paint, but this experience has brought about a deep sense of freedom and peace. I value it because it has caused a profound transformation in myself. It is, indeed, vitally important to me, and I would not lose it at any price." Are you not afraid of losing it? Do you consciously pursue that figure, or is it an everliving thing? "I suppose I am apprehensive of losing it, for I do constantly dwell on that figure and am always using it to bring about a desired state. I had never before thought of it in this way, but now that you ask, I see what I am doing." Is it a living figure, or the memory of a thing that has come and gone? "I am almost afraid to answer that question. please do not think me sentimental, but this experience has meant a very great deal to me. Although I came here to talk the matter over with you and see the truth of it, I now feel rather hesitant and unwilling to inquire into it; but I must. Sometimes it is a living figure, but more often it is the recollection of a past experience." You see how important it is to be aware of what is and not be caught in what one would like it to be. It is easy to create an illusion and live in it. Let us go patiently into the matter. Living in the past, however pleasant, however edifying, prevents the experiencing of what is. The what is is ever new, and the mind finds it extremely arduous and difficult not to live in the thousand yesterdays. Because you are clinging to that memory the living experience is denied. The past has an ending, and the living is the eternal. The memory of that figure is enchanting you, inspiring you, giving you a sense of release; it is the dead that is giving life to the living. Most of us never know what it is to live because we are living with the dead. May I point out, sir, that apprehension of losing something very precious has crept in. Fear has arisen in you. Out of that one experience you have brought into being several problems: acquisitiveness, fear, the burden of experience, and the emptiness of your own being. If the mind can free itself from all acquisitive urges, experiencing will have quite a different significance, and then fear totally disappears. Fear is a shadow, and not a thing in itself. "I am really beginning to see what I have been doing. I am not excusing myself, but as the experience was intense, so has been the desire to hold on to it. How difficult it is not to be caught in a deep emotional experience! The memory of an experience is as invitingly forceful as the experience itself." It is most difficult to differentiate between experiencing and memory is it not? When does experiencing become memory, a thing of the past? Wherein does the subtle difference lie? Is it a matter of time? Time is not when experiencing is. Every experience becomes a movement into the past; the present, the state of experiencing, is imperceptibly flowing into the past. Every living experience, a second later, has become a memory, a thing of the past. This is the process we all know, and it seems to be inevitable. But is it? "I am following very keenly what you are unfolding, and I am more than delighted that you are talking of this, because I am aware of myself only as a series of memories, at whatever level of my being. I am memory. Is it possible to be, to exist in the state of experiencing? That is what you are asking is it not?" Words have subtle meanings to all of us, and if for a moment we can go beyond these references and their reactions, perhaps we shall get at the truth. With most of us, experiencing is always becoming memory. Why? Is it not the constant activity of the mind to take in or absorb, and to push away or deny? Does it not hold on to what is pleasurable, edifying significant, and try to eliminate all that is not useful to itself? And can it ever be without this process? Surely, that is a vain question, as we shall find out in the very asking of it. Now let us go further. This positive or negative accumulation, this evaluating process of the mind, becomes the censor, the watcher, the experiencer, the thinker, the ego. At the moment of experiencing, the experiencer is not; but the experiencer comes into being when choice begins, that is, when the living is over and there is the beginning of accumulation. The acquisitive urge blots out the living, the experiencing, making of it a thing of the past, of memory. As long as there is the observer, the experiencer, there must inevitably be acquisitiveness, the gathering-in process; as long as there is a separate entity who is watching and choosing experience is always a process of becoming. Being or experiencing is, when the separate entity is not. "How is the separate entity to cease?" Why are you asking that question? The `how' is a new way to acquire. We are now concerned with acquisitiveness, and not with how to attain freedom from it. Freedom from something is no freedom at all; it is a reaction, a resistance, which only breeds further opposition. But let us go back to your original question. Was the figure self-projected, or did it come into being uninfluenced by you? Was it independent of you? Consciousness is a complicated affair, and it would be foolish to give a definite answer, would it not? But one can see that recognition is based on a conditioning of the mind. You had studied Buddhism, and as you said, it had impressed you more than any other religion, so the conditioning process had taken place. That conditioning may have projected the figure, even though the conscious mind was occupied with a wholly different matter. Also, your mind being made acute and sensitive by the way of your life, and by the discussion you were having with your friends perhaps you `saw' thought clothed in a Buddhist form, as another might `see' it in a Christian form. But whether it was self-projected or otherwise, is not of vital importance, is it? "Perhaps not, but it has shown me a great deal." Has it? It did not reveal to you the working of your own mind, and you became a prisoner to that experience. All experience has significance when with it there comes self-knowledge which is the only releasing or integrating factor; but without self-knowledge, experience is a burden leading to every kind of illusion. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES II CHAPTER 30 'THIS PROBLEM OF LOVE' A SMALL DUCK was coming up the wide canal like a ship under sail, alone and full of quacking importance. The canal wound in and out through the town. There were no other ducks in sight, but this one made enough noise for many ducks. The few who heard him paid no attention, but that didn't matter to the duck. He wasn't frightened, but he felt himself to be a very prominent person on that canal; he owned it. Beyond the town the countryside was pleasant with green pastures and fat black and white cows. There were masses of clouds on the horizon and the skies seemed low, close to the earth, with that light which only this part of the world seems to have. The land was as flat as one's palm, and the road climbed only to pass over the bridges that crossed the high canals. It was a lovely evening; the sun was setting over the North Sea, and the clouds took on the colouring of the setting sun. Great streaks of light, blue and rose, shot across the sky. She was the wife of a well-known man who was very high up in the government, almost at the top, but not quite. Well-dressed and quiet in manner, she had that peculiar atmosphere of power and wealth, the assurance of one long accustomed to being obeyed and getting things done. From one or two things she said, it was evident that her husband had the brains and she the drive. Together they had risen high, but just when much greater power and position were almost theirs, he had fallen desperately ill. At this point in her narrative she could hardly continue, and tears rolled down her cheeks. She had come in with smiling assurance, but it had rapidly disappeared. Sitting back, she was silent for a time, and then continued. "I have read some of your talks and have attended one or two of them. While I was listening to you, what you said meant a great deal. But these things quickly escape one, and now that I am really in great trouble I thought I would come and see you. I am sure you understand what has happened. My husband is fatally ill, and all the things we lived and worked for are falling to pieces. The party and its work will go on, but... Though there are nurses and doctors, I have been looking after him myself, and for months I have had very little sleep. I can't bear to lose him though the doctors say there is little chance of his re- covery. I have thought and thought about all this, and I am almost sick with anxiety. We have no children, as you know, and we have meant a great deal to each other. And now..." Do you really want to talk seriously and go into things? "I feel so desperate and confused, I don't believe I am capable of serious thinking; but I must come to some kind of clarity within myself." Do you love your husband, or do you love the things which came about through him? "I love..." She was too shocked to continue. Please do not think the question brutal, but you will have to find the true answer to it, otherwise sorrow will always be there. In uncovering the truth of that question there may be the discovery of what love is. "In my present state I cannot think it all out." But has not this problem of love passed through your mind? "Once, perhaps, but I quickly got away from it. I always had so much to do before he was ill; and now, of course, all thinking is pain. Did I love him because of the position and power that went with him, or did I simply love him? I am already talking of him as though he were not! I really don't know in what way I love him. At present I am too confused, and my brain refuses to work. If I may, I would like to come back another time, perhaps after I have accepted the inevitable." If I may point out, acceptance is also a form of death. * * * Several months passed before we met again. The papers had been full of his death, and now he too was forgotten. His death had left marks on her face, and soon bitterness and resentment were showing themselves in her talk. "I haven't talked to anyone about all these things," she explained. "I just withdrew from all my past activities and buried myself in the country. It has been terrible, and I hope you won't mind if I just talk a little. All my life I have been tremendously ambitious, and before marrying I indulged in good works of every kind. Soon after I married, and largely because of my hus- band, I left all the petty wrangling of good works and plunged into politics with my whole heart. It was a much wider field of struggle and I enjoyed every minute of it, the ups and the downs, the intrigues and the jealousies. My husband was brilliant in his quiet way, and with my driving ambition we were always moving up. As we had no children, all my time and thought were given over to furthering my husband. We worked together splendidly, complementing each other in an extraordinary way. Everything was going as we had planned, but I always had a gnawing fear that it was all going too well. Then one day, two years ago, when my husband was being examined for some minor trouble, the doctor said there was a growth which must be examined immediately. It was malignant. For a time we were able to keep the whole thing a dead secret; but six months ago it all began again, and it has been a pretty terrible ordeal. When I last came to see you I was too distressed and miserable to think, but perhaps I can now look at things with a little more clarity. Your question disturbed me more than I can tell you. You may remember that you asked me if I loved my husband, or the things that went with him. I have thought a great deal about it; but is it not too complex a problem to be answered by oneself?" Perhaps; but unless one finds out what love is, there will always be pain and sad disappointments. And it is difficult to discover where love ends and confusion begins, is it not? "You are asking if my love for my husband was unmixed with my love for position and power. Did I love my husband because he gave me the means for the fulfilment of my ambition? It is partly this, and also the love of the man. Love is a mixture of so many things." Is it love when there is complete identification with another? And is not this identification a roundabout way of giving importance to oneself? Is it love when there is the sorrow of loneliness, the pain of being deprived of the things that seemingly gave significance to life? To be cut off from the ways of self-fulfilment, from the things that the self has lived on, is the denial of self-importance, and this brings about disenchantment, bitterness, the misery of isolation. And is this misery love? "You are trying to tell me, are you not, that I did not love my husband at all? I am really appalled at myself when you put it that way. And there is no other way to put it, is there? I had never thought about all this, and only when the blow struck was there any real sorrow in my life. Of course, to have had no children was a great disappointment, but it was tempered by the fact that I had my husband and the work. I suppose they became my children. There is a fearful finality about death. Suddenly I find myself alone, without anything to work for, put aside and forgotten. I now realize the truth of what you say; but if you had said these things to me three or four years ago, I would not have listened to you. I wonder if I have been listening to you even now, or merely seeking out reasons to justify myself! May I come and talk to you again?" COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES II CHAPTER 31 'WHAT IS THE TRUE FUNCTION OF A TEACHER?' THE BANYANS and the tamarinds dominated the small valley, which was green and alive after the rains. In the open the sun was strong and biting, but in the shade it was pleasantly cool. The shadows were deep, and the old trees were shapely against the blue sky. There was an astonishing number of birds in that valley, birds of many different kinds, and they would come to these trees and so quickly disappear in them. There would probably be no more rain for several months but now the countryside lay green and peaceful, the wells were full, and there was hope in the land. The corrupting towns were far beyond the hills, but the nearby villages were filthy and the people were starving. The government only promised, and the villagers seemed to care so little. There was beauty and gladness all about them, but they had no eyes for it nor for their own inward riches. Amidst so much loveliness the people were dull and empty. He was a teacher with little pay and a large family, but he was interested in education. He said he had a difficult time making ends meet, but he managed somehow, and poverty was not a disturbing factor. Though food was not in abundance, they had enough to eat, and as his children were being educated freely in the school where he was teaching, they could scrape along. He was proficient in his subject and taught other subjects too, which he said any teacher could do who was at all intelligent. He again stressed his deep interest in education. "What is the function of a teacher?" he asked. Is he merely a giver of information, a transmitter of knowledge? "He has to be at least that. In any given society, boys and girls must be prepared to earn a livelihood, depending on their capacities, and so on. It is part of the function of a teacher to impart knowledge to the student so that he may have a job when the time comes, and may also, perhaps, help to bring about a better social structure. The student must be prepared to face life." That is so, sir, but aren't we trying to find out what is the function of a teacher? Is it merely to prepare the student for a successful career? Has the teacher no greater and wider significance? "Of course he has. For one thing, he can be an example. By the way of his life, by his conduct, attitude and outlook, he can influence and inspire the student." Is it the function of a teacher to be an example to the student? Are there not already enough examples, heroes, leaders, without adding another to the long list? Is example the way of education? Is it not the function of education to help the student to be free, to be creative? And is there freedom in imitation, in conformity, whether outward or inward? When the student is encouraged to follow an example, is not fear sustained in a deep and subtle form? If the teacher becomes an example, does not that very example mould and twist the life of the student, and are you not then encouraging the everlasting conflict between what he is and what he should be? Is it not the function of a teacher to help the student to understand what he is? "But the teacher must guide the student towards a better and nobler life." To guide, you must know; but do you? What do you know? You know only what you have learnt through the screen of your prejudices, which is your conditioning as a Hindu, a Christian, or a Communist; and this form of guidance only leads to greater misery and bloodshed, as is being shown throughout the world. Is it not the function of a teacher to help the student to free himself intelligently from all these conditioning influences so that he will be able to meet life deeply and fully, without fear, without aggressive discontent? Discontent is part of intelligence, but not the easy pacification of discontent. Acquisitive discontent is soon pacified, for it pursues the well worn pattern of acquisitive action. Is it not the function of a teacher to dispel the gratifying illusion of guides, examples and leaders? "Then at least the teacher can inspire the student to greater things." Again, are you not approaching the problem wrongly, sir? If you as a teacher infuse thought and feeling into the student, are you not making him psychologically dependent on you? When you act as his inspiration, when he looks up to you as he would to a leader or to an ideal, surely he is depending on you. Does not dependence breed fear? And does not fear cripple intelligence? "But if the teacher is not to be either an inspirer, an example, or a guide, then what in heaven's name is his true function?" The moment you are none of those things what are you? What is your relationship with the student? Did you previously have any relationship with the student at all? Your relationship with him was based on an idea of what was good for him, that he ought to be this or that. You were the teacher and he was the pupil; you acted upon him, you influenced him according to your particular conditioning so, consciously or unconsciously you moulded him in your own image. But if you cease to act upon him, then he becomes important in himself, which means that you have to understand him and not demand that he should understand you or your ideals, which are phony anyway. Then you have to deal with what is and not with what should be. Surely, when the teacher regards each student as a unique individual and therefore not to be compared with any other, he is then not concerned with system or method. His sole concern is with `helping' the student to understand the conditioning influences about him and within himself, so that he can face intelligently without fear, the complex process of living and not add more problems to the already existing mess. "Are you not asking of the teacher a task that is far beyond him?" If you are incapable of this, then why be a teacher? Your question has meaning only if teaching is a mere career to you, a job like any other, for I feel that nothing is impossible for the true educator. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES II CHAPTER 32 'YOUR CHILDREN AND THEIR SUCCESS' IT WAS AN enchanted evening. The hilltops were aglow with the setting sun, and in the sand on the path that led across the valley, four woodpeckers were taking a bath. With their longish beaks they would pull the sand under them, their wings would flutter as they pushed their bodies deeper into it, and then they would begin all over again, the tufts on their heads bobbing up and down. They were calling to each other and enjoying themselves thoroughly. Not to disturb them we stepped off the path onto the short, thick grass of recent rains; and there, a few feet away, was a large snake, yellowish and powerful. Its head was sleek, painted, and cruelly shaped. It was too intent on those birds to be disturbed, its black eyes watching without movement and its black, forked tongue darting in and out. Almost imperceptibly it was moving towards the birds, its scales making no noise on the grass. It was a cobra, and there was death about it. Dangerous but beautiful, it was shiny in the darkening light, and it must recently have shed its old skin. Suddenly the four birds took to the air with a cry, and then we saw an extraordinary thing take place: a cobra relax. It had been so eager, so tense, and now it seemed almost lifeless, part of the earth - but in a second, fatal. It moved with ease and only lifted its head when we made a slight noise, but with it went a peculiar stillness, the stillness of fear and death. She was a small, elderly lady with white hair, but was well preserved. Though gentle of speech, her figure, her walk, her gestures and the way she held her head, all showed a deep-rooted aggressiveness which her voice did not conceal. She had a large family, several sons and daughters, but her husband been dead for some time and she alone had had to bring them up. One of her sons, she said with evident pride, was a successful doctor with a large practice, and also a good surgeon. One of her daughters was a clever and successful politician, and without too much difficulty was getting her own way; she said this with a smile which implied, "You know what women are". She went on explain that this political lady had spiritual aspirations. What do you mean by spiritual aspirations? "She wants to be the head of some religious or philosophical group." To have power over others through an organization is surely evil, is it not? That is the way of all politicians whether they are in politics or not. You may hide it under pleasant and deceptive words, but is not the desire for power always evil? She listened, but what was being said had no meaning to her. It was written on her face that she was concerned about something, and what it was would presently emerge. She went on to tell of the activities of her other children, all of whom were vigorous and doing well except the one she really loved. "What is sorrow?" she suddenly asked. "Somewhere in the background I seem to have had it all my life. Though all but one of my children are well off and contented, sorrow has been constantly with me. I can't put my finger on it, but it has pursued me, and I often lie awake at night wondering what it is all about. I am also concerned about my youngest son. You see, he is a failure. Whatever he touches goes to pieces: his marriage, his relationship with his brothers and sisters, and with his friends. He almost never has a job, and when he does get one something happens and he's out. He seems incapable of being helped. I worry about him, and though he adds to my sorrow, I don't think he is the root of it. What is sorrow? I have had anxieties, disappointments and physical pain, but this pervading sorrow is something beyond all that, and I have not been able to find its cause. Could we talk about it?" You are very proud of your children and especially of their success, are you not? "I think any parent would be as they have all made good except the last one. They are prosperous and happy. But why are you asking that question?" It may have something to do with your sorrow. Are you sure that your sorrow has nothing to do with their success? "Of course; on the contrary, I am very happy about it." What do you think is the root of your sorrow? If one may ask, did the death of your husband affect you very deeply? Are you still affected by it? "It was a great shock and I was very lonely after his death, but I soon forgot my loneliness and sorrow as there were the children to be seen to and I had no time to think about myself." Do you think that time wipes away loneliness and sorrow? Are they not still there, buried in the deeper layers of your mind, even though you may have forgotten them? May it not be that these are the cause of your conscious sorrow? "As I say, the death of my husband was a shock, but somehow it was to be expected, and with tears I accepted it. As a girl, before I married I saw my father's death and some years later that of my mother also; but I have never been interested in official religion, and all this clamour for explanations of death and the hereafter has never bothered me. Death is inevitable, and let us accept it with as little noise as possible." That may be the way you regard death, but is loneliness to be so easily reasoned away? Death is something of tomorrow, to be faced perhaps, when it comes; but is not loneliness ever present? You may deliberately shut it out, but it is still there behind the door. Should you not invite loneliness and look at it? "I don't know about that. Loneliness is most unpleasant, and I doubt if I can go so far as to invite that awful feeling. It is really quite frightening." Must you not understand it fully, since that may be the cause of your sorrow? "But how am I to understand it when it is the very thing that gives me pain?" Loneliness does not give you pain, but the idea of loneliness causes fear. You have never experienced the state of loneliness. You have always approached it with apprehension dread with the urge to get away from it or to find a way to overcome it; so you have avoided it, have you not? You have really never come directly into contact with it. To put loneliness away from you, you have escaped into the activities of your children and their success. Their success has become yours; but behind this worship of success, is there not some deep concern? "How do you know?" The thing you escape into - the radio, social activity, a particular dogma, so-called love, and so on - becomes all-important, as necessary to you as drink to the drunkard. One may lose oneself in the worship of success, or in the worship of an image, or in some ideal; but all ideals are illusory, and in the very losing of oneself there is anxiety. If one may point out, your children's success has been to you a source of pain, for you have a deeper concern about them and about yourself. In spite of your admiration of their success and of the applause they have received from the public, is there not behind it a sense of shame, of disgust, or disappointment? please forgive me for asking, but are you not deeply distressed about their success? "You know, sir, I have never dared to acknowledge, even to myself the nature of this distress, but it is as you say." Do you want to go into it? "Now, of course, I do want to go into it. You see, I have always been religious without belonging to any religion. Here and there I have read about religious matters, but I have never been caught in any so-called religious organization. Organized religion has seemed too distant and not sufficiently intimate. Beneath my worldly life, however, there has always been a vague religious groping, and when I began to have children, this groping took the form of a deep hope that one of my children would be religiously inclined. And not one of them is; they have all become prosperous and worldly, except the last one, who is a mixture of everything. All of them are really mediocre, and that is what hurts. They are engrossed in their worldliness. It all seems so superficial and silly, but I haven't discussed it with any of them, and even if I did, they wouldn't understand what I was talking about. I thought that at least one of them would be different, and I am horrified at their mediocrity and my own. It is this, I suppose, that is causing my sorrow. What can one do to break up this stupid state?" In oneself or in another? One can only break up mediocrity in oneself, and then perhaps a different relationship with others may arise. To know that one is mediocre is already the beginning of change, is it not? But a petty mind, becoming aware of itself, frantically tries to change, to improve, and this very urge is mediocre. Any desire for self-improvement is petty. When the mind knows that it is mediocre and does not act upon itself, there is the breaking up of mediocrity. "What do you mean by `act upon itself?'" If a petty mind, realizing it is petty, makes an effort to change itself, is it not still petty? The effort to change is born of a petty mind, therefore that very effort is petty. "Yes, I see that, but what can one do?" Any action of the mind is small, limited. The mind must cease to act, and only then is there the ending of mediocrity. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES II CHAPTER 33 'THE URGE TO SEEK' TWO GOLDEN-GREEN birds with long tails used to come to that garden every morning and sit on a particular branch, playing and calling to each other. They were so restless, always on the move, their bodies quivering, but they were lovely things, and they never seemed to tire in their flight and play. It was a sheltered garden, and many other birds constantly came and went. Two young mongooses, sleek and swift their yellowish fur sparkling in the sun, would chase each other along the top of the low wall, and then, slipping through a hole, would come into the garden; but how cautious and observant they were even in their play, keeping close to the wall, their red eyes alert and watchful. Occasionally an old mongoose, comfortably fat, would come slowly into the garden through the same hole. It must have been their father or mother, for once the three of them were together. Coming into the garden one after another through the hole, they crossed the whole length of the lawn in single file and disappeared among the bushes. "Why do we seek?" asked P. "What is the purpose of our search? How weary one gets of this everlasting seeking! Is there no end to it?" "We search for what we want to find," answered M., "and after finding what we seek, we move on to further discovery. If we did not seek, all living would come to an end, life would stagnate and have no meaning." "Seek and ye shall find'," quoted R. "We find what we want, what we consciously or unconsciously crave for. We have never questioned this urge to seek; we have always sought, and apparently we shall always go on seeking." "The desire to seek is inevitable," stated I. "You might just as well ask why we breathe, or why the hair grows. The urge to seek is as inevitable as day and night." When you assert so definitely that the urge to seek is inevitable, the discovery of the truth of the matter is blocked, is it not? When you accept anything as final determined, does not all inquiry come to an end? "But there are certain fixed laws, like gravity, and it is wiser to accept than to batter one's head vainly against them," replied I. We accept certain dogmas and beliefs for various psychological reasons, and through the process of time what is thus accepted becomes `inevitable, a so-called necessity for man. "If I. accepts as inevitable the urge to seek, then he will go on seeking, and for him it is not a problem," said M. The scientist, the cunning politician, the unhappy, the diseased -each is seeking in his own way and changing the object of his search from time to time. We are all seeking, but we have never, it seems, asked ourselves why we seek. We are not discussing the object of our search, whether noble or ignoble, but we are trying to find out, aren't we, why we seek at all? What is this urge, this everlasting compulsion? Is it inevitable? Has it an unending continuity? "If we do not seek," asked Y., "will we not become lazy and just stagnate?" Conflict in one form or another appears to be the way of life, and without it we think that life would have no meaning. To most of us, the cessation of struggle is death. Search implies struggle, conflict, and is this process essential to man, or is there a different`way' of life in which search and struggle are not? Why and what do we seek? "I seek ways and means to assure, not my own survival, but that of my nation," said I. Is there such a vast difference between national and individual survival? The individual identifies himself with the nation, or with a particular form of society, and then wants that nation or society to survive. The survival of this or that nation is also the survival of the individual. Is not the individual ever seeking to survive, to have continuity, by being identified with something greater or nobler than himself? "Is there not a point or a moment at which we suddenly find ourselves without search, without struggle?" asked M. "That moment may be merely the result of weariness," replied R., "a brief pause before plunging again into the vicious circle of search and fear." "Or it may be outside of time," said M. Is the moment we are talking about outside of time, or is it only a point of rest before starting to seek again? Why do we seek, and is it possible for this search to come to an end? Unless we discover for ourselves why we seek and struggle, the state in which search has come to an end will remain for us an illusion, without significance. "Is there no difference between the various objects of search?" asked B. Of course there are differences, but in all seeking the urge is essentially the same, is it not? Whether we seek to survive individually or as a nation; whether we go to a teacher a guru, a saviour; whether we follow a particular discipline, or find some other means of bettering ourselves, is not each one of us, in his own limited or extensive way, seeking some form of satisfaction, continuity, permanency? So we are now asking ourselves, not what we seek, but why do we seek at all? And is it possible for all search to come to an end, not through compulsion or frustration, or because one has found, but because the urge has wholly ceased? "We are caught in the habit of search, and I suppose it is the outcome of our dissatisfaction," said B. Being discontented, dissatisfied, we seek contentment, satisfaction. As long as there is this urge to be satisfied, to fulfil, there must be search and struggle. With the urge to fulfil there is always the shadow of fear, is there not? "How can we escape from fear?" asked B. You want to fulfil without the sting of fear; but is there ever an enduring fulfilment? Surely, the very desire to fulfil is itself the cause of frustration and fear. Only when the significance of fulfilment is seen is there an ending of desire. Becoming and being are two widely different states, and you cannot go from one to the other; but with the ending of becoming the other is. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES II CHAPTER 34 'LISTENING' THE FULL MOON was just coming up over the river; there was a haze which made her red, and smoke was rising from the many villages, for it was cold. There was not a ripple on the river, but the current was hidden, strong and deep. The swallows were flying low, and one or two wing tips touched the water, disturbing ever so little the placid surface. Up the river the evening star was just visible over a minaret in the distant, crowded town. The parrots were coming back to be near human habitation, and their flight was never straight. They would drop with a screech, pickup a grain, and fly sideways, but they were always moving forward towards a leafy tree, where they were gathering by the hundreds; then off they would fly again to a more sheltering tree, and as darkness came there would be silence. The moon was now well over the tops of the trees, and she made a silvery pathway on the still waters. "I see the importance of listening, but I wonder if I ever really listen to what you say," he remarked. "Somehow I have to make a great effort to listen." When you make an effort to listen, are you listening? Is not that very effort a distraction which prevents listening? Do you make an effort when you listen to something that gives you delight? Surely, this effort to listen is a form of compulsion. Compulsion is resistance, is it not? And resistance breeds problems, so listening becomes one of them. Listening itself is never a problem. "But to me it is. I want to listen correctly because I feel that what you are saying has deep significance, but I can't go beyond its verbal meaning." If I may say so, you are not listening now to what is being said. You have made listening into a problem, and this problem is preventing you from listening. Everything we touch becomes a problem, one issue breeds many other issues. perceiving this is it possible not to breed problems at all? "That would be marvellous, but how is one to come to that happy state?" Again, you see, the question of `how', the manner of achieving a certain state, becomes still another problem. We are talking of not giving birth to problems. If it may be pointed out, you must be aware of the manner in which the mind is creating the problem. You want to achieve the state of perfect listening; in other words, you are not listening, but you want to achieve a state, and you need time and interest to gain that or any other state. The need for time and interest generates problems. You are not simply aware that you are not listening. When you are aware of it, the very fact that you are not listening has its own action; the truth of that fact acts, you do not act upon the fact. But you want to act upon it, to change it, to cultivate its opposite, to bring about a desired state, and so on. Your effort to act upon the fact breeds problems, whereas seeing the truth of the fact brings its own liberating action. You are not aware of the truth, nor do you see the false as the false, as long as your mind is occupied in anyway with effort, with comparison, with justification or condemnation. "All this may be so, but with all the conflicts and contradictions that go on within oneself, it still seems to me that it is almost impossible to listen." Listening itself is a complete act; the very act of listening brings its own freedom. But are you really concerned with listening, or with altering the turmoil within? If you would listen, sir, in the sense of being aware of your conflicts and contradictions without forcing them into any particular pattern of thought, perhaps they might altogether cease. You see, we are constantly trying to be this or that, to achieve a particular state, to capture one kind of experience and avoid another, so the mind is everlastingly occupied with something; it is never still to listen to the noise of its own struggles and pains. Be simple, sir, and don't try to become something or to capture some experience. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES II CHAPTER 35 'THE FIRE OF DISCONTENT' IT HAD BEEN raining quite heavily for several days, and the streams were swollen and noisy. Brown and dirty, they came from every gully and joined a wider stream that ran through the middle of the valley, and this in turn joined the river that went down to the sea some miles away. The river was high and fast-flowing, winding through orchards and open country. Even in summer the river was never dry, though all the streams that fed it showed their barren rocks and dry sands. Now the river was flowing faster than a man could walk, and on both banks people were watching the muddy waters. It was not often that the river was so high. The people were excited, their eyes sparkled, for the fast-moving waters were a delight. The town near the sea might suffer, the river might overflow its banks inundating the fields and the groves and damaging the houses; but here, under the lonely bridge, the brown waters were singing. A few people were fishing, but they could not have caught much, for the current was too strong, carrying with it the debris of all the neighbouring streams. It began to rain again, yet the people stayed to watch and to take delight in simple things. "I have always been a seeker," she said. "I have read, oh, so many books on many subjects. I was a Catholic, but left that church to join another; leaving that too, I joined a religious society. I have recently been reading oriental philosophy, the teachings of the Buddha, and added to all this, I have had myself psychoanalysed; but even that hasn't stopped me from seeking, and now here I am talking to you. I nearly went to India in search of a Master, but circumstances prevented me from going." She went on to say that she was married and had a couple of children, bright and intelligent, who were in college; she wasn't worried about them, they could look after themselves. Social interests meant nothing any more. She had been seriously trying to meditate but got nowhere, and her mind was as silly and vagrant as before. "What you say about meditation and prayer is so different from what I have read and thought, that it has greatly puzzled me" she added. "But through all this wearisome confusion, I really want to find truth and understand its mystery." Do you think that by seeking truth you will find it? May it not be that the so-called seeker can never find truth? You have never fathomed this urge to seek, have you? Yet you keep on seeking going from one thing to another in the hope of finding what you want, which you call truth and make a mystery of. "But what's wrong with going after what I want? I have always gone after what I wanted, and more often than not I have got it." That may be; but do you think that you can collect truth as you would money or paintings? Do you think it is another ornament for one's vanity? Or must the mind that is acquisitive wholly cease for the other to be? "I suppose I am too eager to find it." Not at all. You will find what you seek in your eagerness, but it will not be the real. "Then what am I supposed to do, just lie down and vegetate?" You are jumping to conclusions, are you not? Is it not important to find out why you are seeking? "Oh, I know why I am seeking. I am thoroughly discontented with everything, even with the things I have found. The pain of discontent returns again and again; I think I have got hold of something, but it soon fades away and once again the pain of discontent overwhelms me. I have tried in every way I can think of to overcome it, but somehow it is too strong within me, and I must find something - truth, or whatever it is - that will give me peace and contentment." Should you not be thankful that you have not succeeded in smothering this fire of discontent? To overcome discontent has been your problem, has it not? You have sought contentment, and fortunately you have not found it; to find it is to stagnate, vegetate. "I suppose that is really what I am seeking: an escape from this gnawing discontent." Most people are discontented, are they not? But they find satisfaction in the easy things of life whether it is mountain climbing or the fulfilment of some ambition. The restlessness of discontent is superficially turned into achievements that gratify. If we are shaken in our contentment, we soon find ways to overcome the pain of discontent, so we live on the surface and never fathom the depths of discontent. "How is one to go below the surface of discontent?" Your question indicates that you still desire to escape from discontent, does it not? To live with that pain, without trying to escape from it or to alter it, is to penetrate the depths of discontent. As long as we are trying to get somewhere, or to be something, there must be the pain of conflict, and having caused the pain, we then want to escape from it; and we do escape into every kind of activity. To be integrated with discontent, to remain with and be part of discontent, without the observer forcing it into grooves of satisfaction or accepting it as inevitable, is to allow that which has no opposite, no second, to come into being. "I follow what you are saying, but I have fought discontent for so many years that it is now very difficult for me to be part of it." The more you fight a habit, the more life you give to it. Habit is a dead thing, do not fight it, do not resist it; but with the perception of the truth of discontent, the past will have lost its significance. Though painful, it is a marvellous thing to be discontented without smothering that flame with knowledge, with tradition, with hope, with achievement. We get lost in the mystery of man's achievement in the mystery of the church, or of the jet plane. Again, this is superficial, empty, leading to destruction and misery. There is a mystery that is beyond the capacities and powers of the mind. You cannot seek it out or invite it; it must come without your asking, and with it comes a benediction for man. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES II CHAPTER 36 'AN EXPERIENCE OF BLISS' IT WAS A VERY hot and humid day. In the park many people were stretched out on the grass or sitting on benches in the shade of the heavy trees; they were taking cool drinks and gasping for clean, fresh air. The sky was grey, there was not the slightest breeze, and the fumes of this vast mechanized city filled the air. In the country it must have been lovely, for spring was just turning into summer. Some trees would just be putting forth their leaves, and along the road which ran beside the wide, sparkling river, every kind of flower would be out. Deep in the woods there would be that peculiar silence in which you can almost hear things being born, and the mountains, with their deep valleys, would be blue and fragrant. But here in the city...! Imagination perverts the perception of what is; and yet how proud we are of our imagination and speculation. The speculative mind, with its intricate thoughts, is not capable of fundamental transformation; it is not a revolutionary mind. It has clothed itself with what should be and follows the pattern of its own limited and enclosing projections. The good is not in what should be, it lies in the understanding of what is. Imagination prevents the perception of what is, as does comparison. The mind must put aside all imagination and speculation for the real to be. He was quite young, but he had a family and was a businessman of some repute. He looked very worried and miserable, and was eager to say something. "Some time ago I had a most remarkable experience, and as I have never before talked about it to anyone I wonder if I am capable of explaining it to you; I hope so, for I cannot go to anybody else. It was an experience which completely ravished my heart; but it has gone, and now I have only the empty memory of it. perhaps you can help me to get it back. I will tell you, as fully as I can, what that blessing was. I have read of these things, but they were always empty words and appealed only to my senses; but what happened to me was beyond all thought, beyond imagination and desire, and now I have lost it. Please do help me to get it back." He paused for a moment, and then continued. "I woke up one morning very early; the city was still asleep, and its murmur had not yet begun. I felt I had to get out, so I dressed quickly and went down to the street. Even the milk truck was not yet on its rounds. It was early spring, and the sky was pale blue. I had a strong feeling that I should go to the park, a mile or so away. From the moment I came out of my front door I had a strange feeling of lightness, as though I were walking on air. The building opposite, a drab block of flats, had lost all its ugliness; the very bricks were alive and clear. Every little object which ordinarily I would never have noticed seemed to have an extraordinary quality of its own, and strangely, everything seemed to be a part of me. Nothing was separate from me; in fact, the`me' as the observer, the perceiver, was absent, if you know what I mean. There was no `me' separate from that tree, or from that paper in the gutter, or from the birds that were calling to each other. It was a state of consciousness that I had never known. "On the way to the park," he went on, "there is a flower shop. I have passed it hundreds of times, and I used to glance at the flowers as I went by. But on this particular morning I stopped in front of it. The plate glass window was slightly frosted with the heat and damp from inside, but this did not prevent me from seeing the many varieties of flowers. As I stood looking at them, I found myself smiling and laughing with a joy I had never before experienced. Those flowers were speaking to me, and I was speaking to them; I was among them, and they were part of me. In saying this, I may give you the impression that I was hysterical, slightly off my head; but it was not so. I had dressed very carefully, and had been aware of putting on clean things, looking at my watch, seeing the names of the shops, including that of my tailor, and reading the titles of the books in a book shop window. Everything was alive, and I loved everything. I was the scent of those flowers, but there was no `me' to smell the flowers, if you know what I mean. There was no separation between them and me. That flower shop was fantastically alive with colours, and the beauty of it all must have been stunning, for time and its measurement had ceased. I must have stood there for over twenty minutes, but I assure you there was no sense of time. I could hardly tear myself away from those flowers. The world of struggle, pain and sorrow was there, and yet it was not. You see, in that state, words have no meaning. Words are descriptive, separative, comparative, but in that state there were no words; `I' was not experiencing, there was only that state, that experience. Time had stopped; there was no past, present or future. There was only - oh, I don't know how to put it into words, but it doesn't matter. There was a presence - no, not that word. It was as though the earth, with everything in it and on it, were in a state of benediction, and I, walking towards the park, were part of it. As I drew near the park I was absolutely spellbound by the beauty of those familiar trees. From the pale yellow to the almost black-green, the leaves were dancing with life; every leaf stood out separate, and the whole richness of the earth was in a single leaf. I was conscious that my heart was beating fast; I have a very good heart, but I could hardly breathe as I entered the park and I thought I was going to faint. I sat down on a bench, and tears were rolling down my cheeks. There was a silence that was utterly unbearable, but that silence was cleansing all things of pain and sorrow. As I went deeper into the park, there was music in the air. I was surprised, as there was no house nearby, and no one would have a radio in the park at that hour of the morning. The music was part of the whole thing. All the goodness, all the compassion of the world was in that park, and God was there. "I am not a theologian, nor much of a religious person," he continued. "I have been a dozen times or so inside a church, but it has never meant anything to me. I cannot stomach all that nonsense that goes on in churches. But in that park there was Being, if one may use such a word, in whom all things lived and had their being. My legs were shaking and I was forced to sit down again, with my back against a tree. The trunk was a living thing, as I was, and I was part of that tree, part of that Being, part of the world. I must have fainted. It had all been too much for me: the vivid, living colours, the leaves, the rocks, the flowers, the incredible beauty of everything. And over all was the benediction of... "When I came to, the sun was up. It generally takes me about twenty minutes to walk to the park, but it was nearly two hours since I had left my house. physically I seemed to have no strength to walk back; so I sat there, gathering strength and not daring to think. As I slowly walked back home, the whole of that experience was with me; it lasted two days, and faded away as suddenly as it had come. Then my torture began. I didn't go near my office for a week. I wanted that strange living experience back again, I wanted to live once again and forever in that beatific world. All this happened two years ago. I have seriously thought of giving up everything and going away into some lonely corner of the world, but I know in my heart that I cannot get it back that way. No monastery can offer me that experience, nor can any candle lit church, which only deals with death and darkness. I considered making my way to India, but that too I put aside. Then I tried a certain drug; it made things more vivid, and soon, but an opiate is not what I want. That is a cheap way of experiencing, it is a trick but not the real thing. "So here I am," he concluded. "I would give everything, my life and all my possessions, to live again in that world. What am I to do?" It came to you, sir, uninvited. You never sought it. As long as you are seeking it, you will never have it. The very desire to live again in that ecstatic state is preventing the new, the fresh experience of bliss. You see what has happened: you have had that experience, and now you are living with the dead memory of yesterday. What has been is preventing the new. "Do you mean to say that I must put away and forget all that has been, and carry on with my petty life, inwardly starving from day to day?" If you do not look back and ask for more, which is quite a task, then perhaps that very thing over which you have no control may act as it will. Greed, even for the sublime, breeds sorrow; the urge for the more opens the door to time. That bliss cannot be bought through any sacrifice, through any virtue, through any drug. It is not a reward, a result. It comes when it will; do not seek it. "But was that experience real, was it of the highest?" We want another to confirm, to make us certain of what has been, and so we find shelter in it. To be made certain or secure in that which has been, even if it were the real, is to strengthen the unreal and breed illusion. To bring over to the present what is past, pleasurable or painful is to prevent the real. Reality has no continuity. It is from moment to moment, timeless and measureless. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES II CHAPTER 37 'A POLITICIAN WHO WANTED TO DO GOOD' IT HAD RAINED during the night, and the perfumed earth was still damp. The path led away from the river among ancient trees and mango groves. It was a path of pilgrimage trodden by thousands, for it had been the tradition for over twenty centuries that all good pilgrims must tread that path. But it was not the right time of the year for pilgrims, and on this particular morning only the villagers were walking there. In their gaily-coloured clothes, with the sun behind them and with loads of hay, vegetables and firewood on their heads, they were a beautiful sight; they walked with grace and dignity, laughing and talking over village affairs. On both sides of the path, stretching as far as the eye could see, there were green, cultivated fields of winter wheat, with wide patches of peas and other vegetables for the market. It was a lovely morning, with clear blue skies, and there was a blessing on the land. The earth was a living thing, bountiful rich and sacred. It was not the sacredness of man-made things, of temples, priests and books; it was the beauty of complete peace and complete silence. One was bathed in it; the trees, the grass, and the big bull, were part of it; the children playing in the dust were aware of it, though they knew it not. It was not a passing thing; it was there without a beginning without an ending. He was a politician and he wanted to do good. He felt himself to be unlike other politicians, he said, for he really was concerned with the welfare of the people, with their needs, their health, and their growth. Of course he was ambitious, but who was not? Ambition helped him to be more active, and without it he would be lazy, incapable of doing much good to others. He wanted to become a member of the cabinet, and was well on his way to it, and when he got there he would see that his ideas were carried out. He had travelled the world over, visiting various countries and studying the schemes of different governments, and after careful thought he had been able to work out a plan that would really benefit his country. "But now I don't know if I can put it through," he said with evident pain. "You see, I have not been at all well lately. The doctors say that I must take it easy, and I may have to undergo a very serious operation; but I cannot bring myself to accept this situation." If one may ask, what is preventing you from taking it easy? "I refuse to accept the prospect of being an invalid for the rest of my life and not being able to do what I want to do. I know, verbally at least, that I cannot keep up indefinitely the pace I have been used to, but if I am laid up my plan may never go through. Naturally there are other ambitious people, and it is a matter of dog eat dog. I was at several of your meetings, so I thought I would come and talk things over with you." Is your problem, sir, that of frustration? There is a possibility of long illness, with a decline of usefulness and popularity, and you find that you cannot accept this, because life would be utterly barren without the fulfillment of your schemes; is that it? "As I said, I am as ambitious as the next man, but I also want to do good. On the other hand, I am really quite ill, and I simply can't accept this illness, so there is a bitter conflict going on within me, which I am quite aware is making me still more ill. There is another fear too, not for my family, who are all well provided for, but the fear of something that I have never been able to put into words, even to myself." You mean the fear of death? "Yes, I think that is it; or rather, of coming to an end without fulfilling what I have set out to do. probably this is my greatest fear, and I do not know how to assuage it." Will this illness totally prevent your political activities? "You know what it is like. Unless I am in the centre of things, I shall be forgotten and my schemes will have no chance. It will virtually mean a withdrawal from politics, and I am loath to do that." So, you can either voluntarily and easily accept the fact that you must withdraw, or equally happily go on doing your political work, knowing the serious nature of your illness. Either way, disease may thwart your ambitions. Life is very strange is it not? If I may suggest, why not accept the inevitable without bitterness? If there is cynicism or bitterness, your mind will make the illness worse. "I am fully aware of all this, and yet I cannot accept - least of all happily, as you suggest - my physical condition. I could perhaps carry on with a bit of my political work, but that is not enough." Do you think that the fulfilment of your ambition to do good is the only way of life for you, and that only through you and your schemes will your country be saved? You are the centre of all this supposedly good work, are you not? You are really not deeply concerned with the good of the people, but with good as manifested through you. You are important, and not the good of the people. You have so identified yourself with your schemes and with the so-called good of the people, that you take your own fulfilment to be their happiness. Your schemes may be excellent, and they may, by some happy chance, bring good to the people; but you want your name to be identified with that good. Life is strange; disease has come upon you, and you are thwarted in furthering your name and your importance. This is what is causing conflict in you, and not anxiety lest the people should not be helped. If you loved the people and did not indulge in mere lip service, it would have its own spontaneous effect which would be of significant help; but you do not love the people they are merely the tools of your ambition and your vanity. Doing good is on the way to your own glory. I hope you don't mind my saying all this? "I am really happy that you have expressed so openly the things that are deeply concealed in my heart, and it has done me good. I have somehow felt all this, but have never allowed my self to face it directly. It is a great relief to hear it so plainly stated, and I hope I shall now understand and calm my conflict. I shall see how things turn out, but already I feel a little more detached from my anxieties and hopes. But sir, what of death?" This problem is more complex and it demands deep insight, does it not? You can rationalize death away, saying that all things die, that the fresh green leaf of spring is blown away in the autumn, and so on. You can reason and find explanations for death, or try to conquer by will the fear of death, or find a belief as a substitute for that fear; but all this is still the action of the mind. And the so-called intuition concerning the truth of reincarnation, or life after death, may be merely a wish for survival. All these reasonings, intuitions, explanations, are within the field of the mind, are they not? They are all activities of thought to overcome the fear of death; but the fear of death is not to be so tamely conquered. The individual's desire to survive through the nation, through the family, through name and idea, or through beliefs, is still the craving for his own continuity is it not? It is this craving, with its complex resistances and hopes, that must voluntarily, effortlessly and happily come to an end. One must die each day to all one's memories, experiences, knowledge and hopes; the accumulations of pleasure and repentance the gathering of virtue, must cease from moment to moment. These are not just words, but the statement of an actuality. What continues can never know the bliss of the unknown. Not to gather, but to die each day, each minute, is timeless being. As long as there is the urge to fulfil, with its conflicts, there will always be the fear of death. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES II CHAPTER 38 'THE COMPETITIVE WAY OF LIFE' THE MONKEYS WERE on the road, and in the middle of the road a baby monkey was playing with its tail, but the mother was keeping an eye on it. They were all well aware that someone was there, at a safe distance. The adult males were large, heavy and rather vicious, and most of the other monkeys avoided them. They were all eating some kind of berries that had fallen on the road from a large, shady tree with thick leaves. The recent rains had filled the river, and the stream under the narrow bridge was gurgling. The monkeys avoided the water and the puddles on the road, and when a car appeared splattering mud as it came, they were off the road in a second, the mother taking the baby with her. Some climbed the tree and others went down the bank on each side of the road, but they were back on it as soon as the car had sped by. They had now got quite used to the human presence. They were as restless as the human mind, and up to all kinds of tricks. The rice fields on either side of the road were a luscious, sparkling green in the warm sun, and against the blue hills beyond the fields the ricebirds were white and slow-winged. A long, brownish snake had crawled out of the water and was resting in the sun. A brilliantly blue kingfisher had alighted on the bridge and was readying itself for another dive. It was a lovely morning, not too hot, and the solitary palms scattered over the fields told of many things. Between the green fields and the blue hills there was communion, a song. Time seemed to pass so quickly. In the blue sky the kites were wheeling; occasionally they would alight on a branch to preen themselves, and then off they would go again, calling and circling. There were also several eagles, with white necks and golden-brown wings and bodies. Among the newly-sprouted grass there were large red ants; they would race jerkily forward, suddenly stop, and then go off in the opposite direction. Life was so rich, so abundant - and unnoticed, which was perhaps what all these living things, big and little, wanted. A young ox with bells around its neck was drawing a light cart which was delicately made, its two large wheels connected by a thin steel bar on which a wooden platform was mounted. On this platform a man was sitting, proud of the fast-trotting ox and the turnout. The ox, sturdy and yet slender, gave him importance; everyone would look at him now, as the passing villagers did. They stopped, looked with admiring eyes, made comments, and passed on. How proud and erect the man sat, looking straight ahead! Pride, whether in little things or in great achievements, is essentially the same. What one does and what one has gives one importance and prestige; but man in himself as a total being seems to have hardly any significance at all. He came with two of his friends. Each of them had a good college degree, and they were doing well, they said, in their various professions. They were all married and had children, and they seemed pleased with life, yet they were disturbed too. "If I may," he said, "I would like to ask a question to set the ball rolling. It is not an idle question, and it has somewhat disturbed me since hearing you a few evenings ago. Among other things you said that competition and ambition were destructive urges which man must understand and so be free of, if he is to live in a peaceful society. But are not struggle and conflict part of the very nature of existence?" Society as at present constituted is based on ambition and conflict, and almost everyone accepts this fact as inevitable. The individual is conditioned to its inevitability; through education, through various forms of outward and inward compulsion, he is made to be competitive. If he is to fit into this society at all, he must accept the conditions it lays down, otherwise he has a pretty bad time. We seem to think that we have to fit into this society; but why should one? "If we don't, we will just go under." I wonder if that would happen if we saw the whole significance of the problem? We might not live according to the usual pattern, but we would live creatively and happily, with a wholly different out look. Such a state cannot be brought about if we accept the present social pattern as inevitable. But to get back to your point: do ambition, competition and conflict constitute a predestined and inevitable way of life? You evidently assume that they do. Now let us begin from there. Why do you take this competitive way of life to be the only process of existence? "I am competitive, ambitious, like all those around me. It is a fact which often gives me pleasure, and sometimes pain, but I just accept it without struggle, because I don't know any other way of living; and even if I did, I suppose I would be afraid to try it.I have many responsibilities, and I would be gravely concerned about the future of my children if I broke away from the usual thoughts and habits of life." You may be responsible for others, sir, but have you not also the responsibility to bring about a peaceful world? There can be no peace, no enduring happiness for man as long as we - the individual, the group and the nation - accept this competitive existence as inevitable. Competitiveness, ambition, implies conflict within and without, does it not? An ambitious man is not a peaceful man, though he may talk of peace and brotherhood. The politician can never bring peace to the world, nor can those who belong to any organized belief, for they all have been conditioned to a world of leaders, saviours, guides and examples; and when you follow another you are seeking the fulfilment of your own ambition, whether in this world or in the world of ideation, the so-called spiritual world. Competitiveness, ambition implies conflict, does it not? "I see that, but what is one to do? Being caught in this net of competition, how is one to get out of it? And even if one does get out of it, what assurance is there that there will be peace between man and man? Unless all of us see the truth of the matter at the same time, the perception of that truth by one or two will have no value whatever." You want to know how to get out of this net of conflict, fulfilment, frustration. The very question `how?' implies that you want to be assured that your endeavour will not be in vain. You still want to succeed, only at a different level. You do not see that all ambition, all desire for success in any direction, creates conflict both within and without. The `how?' is the way of ambition and conflict, and that very question prevents you from seeing the truth of the problem. The `how?' is the ladder to further success. But we are not now thinking in terms of success or failure, rather in terms of the elimination of conflict; and does it follow that without conflict, stagnation is inevitable? Surely, peace comes into being, not through safeguards, sanctions and guarantees, but it is there when you are not - you who are the agent of conflict with your ambitions and frustrations. Your other point, sir, that all must see the truth of this problem at the same time, is an obvious impossibility. But it is possible for you to see it; and when you do, that truth which you have seen and which brings freedom, will affect others. It must begin with you, for you are the world, as the other is. Ambition breeds mediocrity of mind and heart; ambition is superficial, for it is everlastingly seeking a result. The man who wants to be a saint, or a successful politician, or a big executive, is concerned with personal achievement. Whether identified with an idea, a nation, or a system, religious or economic, the urge to be successful strengthens the ego, the self, whose very structure is brittle, superficial and limited. All this is fairly obvious if one looks into it, is it not? "It may be obvious to you, sir, but to most of us conflict gives a sense of existence, the feeling that we are alive. Without ambition and competition, our lives would be drab and useless." Since you are maintaining this competitive way of life, your children and your children's children will bread further antagonism, envy and war; neither you nor they will have peace. Having been conditioned to this traditional pattern of existence, you are in turn educating your children to accept it; so the world goes on in this sorrowful way. "We want to change, but..." He was aware of his own futility and stopped talking. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES II CHAPTER 39 'MEDITATION--EFFORT--CONSCIOUSNESS' THE SEA WAS beyond the mountains to the east of the valley, and through the centre of the valley a river made its way leisurely to the sea. The river flowed full all the year round, and it was beautiful even where it passed by the town, which was quite large. The townspeople used the river for everything - for fishing for bathing, for drinking water, for sewage disposal, and the wastes of a factory went into it. But the river threw off all the filth of man, and its waters were once again clear and blue soon after it had passed his habitations. A wide road went along the river to the west, leading up to tea plantations in the mountains; it curved in and out, some- times losing the river, but most of the time in sight of it. As the road climbed, following the river, the plantations became bigger, and here and there were factories to dry and process the tea. Soon the estates became vast, and the river was noisy with water falls.In the morning one would see brightly-dressed women, their bodies bent, their skin turned dark by the blazing sun, picking the delicate leaves of the tea bushes. It all had to be picked before a certain time in the morning and carried to the nearest factory before the sun became too hot. At that altitude the sun was strong and painfully penetrating, and though they were used to it, some of the women had their heads covered with part of the cloth they wore. They were gay, fast and skilful in their work, and soon that particular task would be over for the day; but most of them were wives and mothers, and they would still have to cook and look after the children. They had a union, and the planters treated them decently, for it would be disastrous to have a strike and allow the tender leaves to grow to their normal size. The road continued up and up, and the air became quite cold. At eight thousand feet there were no more tea plantations, but men were working the soil and cultivating many things to be sent down to the towns along the sea. From that altitude the view over the forests and plains was magnificent, with the river, silver now, dominating everything. Going back another way, the road wound through green, sparkling rice fields and deep woods. There were many palms and mangoes, and flowers were everywhere. The people were cheerful, and along the roadside they were setting out many things, from trinkets to luscious fruit. They were lazy and easygoing, and seemed to have enough to eat, unlike those in the lowland, where life was hard, meagre and crowded. He was a sannyasi, a monk, but not of any particular order, and he spoke of himself as of a third person. While still young he had renounced the world and its ways and had wandered all over the country, staying with some of the well known religious teachers, talking with them and following their peculiar disciplines and rituals. He had fasted for many a day, lived in solitude among the mountains, and done most of the things that sannyasis are supposed to do. He had damaged himself physically through excessive ascetic practices, and although that was long ago, his body still suffered from it. Then one day he had decided to abandon all these practices, rituals and disciplines as being vain and without much significance, and had gone off into some faraway mountain village, where he had spent many years in deep contemplation. The usual thing had happened, he said with a smile, and he in his turn had become well known and had had a large following of disciples to whom he taught simple things. He had read the ancient Sanskrit literature, and now that too he had put away. Although it was necessary to describe briefly what his life had been, he added, that was not the thing for which he had come. "Above all virtue, sacrifice, and the action of dispassionate help, is meditation," he stated. "Without meditation, knowledge and action become a wearisome burden with very little meaning; but few know what meditation is. If you are willing, we must talk this over. In meditation it has been the experience of the speaker to reach different states of consciousness; he has had the experiences that all aspiring human beings sooner or later go through, the visions embodying Krishna, Christ, Buddha. They are the outcome of one's own thought and education, and of what maybe called one's culture. There are visions, experiences and powers of many different varieties. Unfortunately, most seekers are caught in the net of their own thought and desire, even some of the greatest exponents of truth. Having the power of healing and the gift of words, they become prisoners to their own capacities and experiences. The speaker himself has passed through these experiences and dangers, and to the best of his ability has understood and gone beyond them - at least, let us hope so. What then is meditation?" Surely, in considering meditation, effort and the maker of effort must be understood. Good effort leads to one thing, and bad to another, but both are binding, are they not? "It is said that you have not read the Upanishads or any of the sacred literature, but you sound like one who has read and knows." It is true that I have read none of those things, but that is not important. Good effort and wrong effort are both binding, and it is this bondage that must be understood and broken. Meditation is the breaking of all bondage; it is a state of freedom, but not from anything. Freedom from something is only the cultivation of resistance. To be conscious of being free is not freedom. Consciousness is the experiencing of freedom or of bondage, and that consciousness is the experiencer, the maker of effort. Meditation is the breaking down of the experiencer, which cannot be done consciously. If the experiencer is broken down consciously, then there is a strengthening of the will, which is also a part of consciousness. Our problem, then, is concerned with the whole process of consciousness, and not with one part of it, small or great, dominant or subservient. "What you say seems to be true. The ways of consciousness are profound, deceptive and contradictory. It is only through dispassionate observation and careful study that this tangle can be unravelled and order can prevail." But, sir, the unraveller is still there; one may call him the higher self, the atman, and so on, but he is still part of consciousness, the maker of effort who is everlastingly trying to get somewhere. Effort is desire. One desire can be overcome by a greater desire, and that desire by still another, and so on endlessly. Desire breeds deception, illusion, contradiction, and the visions of hope. The all-conquering desire for the ultimate, or the will to reach that which is nameless, is still the way of consciousness, of the experiencer of good and bad, the experiencer who is waiting, watching, hoping. Consciousness is not of one particular level, it is the totality of our being. "What has been heard so far is excellent and true; but if one may inquire, what is it that will bring peace, stillness to this consciousness?" Nothing. Surely, the mind is ever seeking a result, a way to some achievement. Mind is an instrument that has been put to-gather, it is the fabric of time, and it can only think in terms of result, of achievement, of something to be gained or avoided. "That is so. It is being stated that as long as the mind is active, choosing, seeking, experiencing, there must be the maker of effort who creates his own image, calling it by different names, and this is the net in which thought is caught." Thought itself is the maker of the net; thought is the net. Thought is binding; thought can only lead to the vast expanse of time, the field in which knowledge action virtue, have importance. However refined or simplified, thinking cannot breakdown all thought. Consciousness as the experiencer, the observer, the chooser, the censor, the will, must come to an end, voluntarily and happily, without any hope of reward. The seeker ceases. This is meditation. Silence of the mind cannot be brought about through the action of will. There is silence when will ceases. This is meditation. Reality cannot be sought; it is when the seeker is not. Mind is time, and thought cannot uncover the measureless. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES II CHAPTER 40 'PSYCHOANALYSIS AND THE HUMAN PROBLEM' THE BIRDS AND the goats were all somewhere else, and it was strangely quiet and far away under the wide-spreading tree which stood alone in an expanse of fields, well-cultivated and richly green. The hills were at some distance, harsh and uninviting in the midday sun, but under the tree it was dark, cool and pleasant. This tree, huge and impressive, had gathered great strength and symmetry in its solitude. It was a vital thing, alone, and yet it seemed to dominate all its surroundings, even the distant hills. The villagers worshipped it; against its vast trunk there was a carved stone on which someone had placed bright yellow flowers. In the evening no one came to the tree; its solitude was too overpowering, and it was better to worship it during the day when there were rich shadows, chattering birds, and the sound of human voices. But at this hour all the villagers were around their huts, and under the tree it was very peaceful. The sun never penetrated to the base of the tree, and the flowers would last till the next day, when new offerings would be made. A narrow path led to the tree, and then continued on through the green fields. The goats were carefully herded along this path until they were near the hills, and then they ran wild, eating everything within reach. The full glory of the tree was towards evening. As the sun set behind the hills, the fields became more intensely green, and only the top of the tree caught the last rays, golden and transparent. With the coming of darkness the tree appeared to withdraw from all its surroundings and close upon itself for the night; its mystery seemed to grow, entering into the mystery of all things. A psychologist and an analyst, he had been in practice for a number of years and had many cures to his credit. He worked in a hospital as well as in his private office. His many prosperous patients had made him prosperous too, with expensive cars, a country house, and all the rest of it. He took his work seriously, it was not just a money making affair, and he used different methods of analysis depending upon the patient. He had studied mesmerism, and tentatively practiced hypnosis on some of his patients. "It is a very curious thing," he said, "how, during the hypnotic state, people will freely and easily speak of their hidden compulsions and responses, and every time a patient is put under hypnosis I feel the strangeness of it. I have myself been scrupulously honest, but I am fully aware of the grave dangers of hypnotism, especially in the hands of unscrupulous people, medical or otherwise. Hypnosis may or may not be a short cut, and I don't feel it is justified except in certain stubborn cases. It takes a long period to cure a patient, generally several months, and it is a pretty tiring business. "Some time ago," he went on, "a patient whom I had been treating for a number of months came to see me. By no means a stupid woman, she was well read and had wide interests; and with considerable excitement and a smile which I had not seen for a long time, she told me that she had been persuaded by a friend to attend some of your talks. It appeared that during the talks she felt herself being released from her depressions, which were rather serious. She said that the first talk had quite bewildered her. The thoughts and the words were new to her and seemed contradictory, and she did not want to attend the second talk; but her friend explained that this often happened, and that she should listen to several talks before making up her mind. She finally went to all of them, and as I say, she felt a sense of release. What you said seemed to touch certain points in her consciousness, and without making any effort to be free from her frustrations and depressions, she found that they were gone; they had simply ceased to exist. This was some months ago. I saw her again the other day, and those depressions have certainly cleared up; she is normal and happy, especially in her relationship with her family, and things seem to be all right. "This is all just preliminary," he continued. "You see, thanks to this patient, I have read some of your teachings, and what I really want to talk over with you is this: is there a way or a method by which we can quickly get at the root of all this human misery? Our present techniques take time and require a considerable amount of patient investigation." Sir, if one may ask, what is it that you are trying to do with your patients? "Stated simply, without psychanalytical jargon, we try to help them to overcome their difficulties, depressions, and so on, in order that they may fit into society." Do you think it is very important to help people to fit into this corrupt society? "It may be corrupt, but the reformation of society is not our business. Our business is to help the patient to adjust himself to his surroundings and be a more happy and useful citizen. We are dealing with abnormal cases and are not trying to create super-normal people. I don't think that is our function." Do you think you can separate yourself from your function? If I may ask, is it not also your function to bring about a totally new order, a world in which there will be no wars, no antagonism, no urge to compete, and so on? Do not all these urges and compulsions bring about a social environment which develops abnormal people? If one is only concerned with helping the individual to conform to the existing social pattern, here or elsewhere, is one not maintaining the very causes that make for frustration misery and destruction? "There is certainly something in what you say but as analysts I don't think we are prepared to go so deeply into the whole causation of human misery." Then it seems, sir, that you are concerned, not with the total development of man, but only with one particular part of his total consciousness. Healing a certain part may be necessary, but without understanding the total process of man, we may cause other forms of disease. Surely, this is not a matter for argumentation or speculation; it is an obvious fact that must be taken into consideration, not merely by specialists, but by each one of us. "You are leading into very deep issues to which I am not accustomed, and I find myself beyond my depth. I have thought only vaguely about these things, and about what we are actually trying to accomplish with our patients apart from the usual procedure. You see, most of us have neither the inclination nor the necessary time to study all this; but I suppose we really ought to if we want to free ourselves and help our patients to be free from the confusion and misery of the present western civilization." The confusion and misery are not only in the West, for human beings the world over are in the same plight. The problem of the individual is also the world's problem, they are not two separate and distinct processes. We are concerned, surely, with the human problem, whether the human being is in the Orient or in the Occident, which is an arbitrary geographical division. The whole consciousness of man is concerned with God, with death, with right and happy livelihood with children and their education, with war and peace. Without understanding all this, there can be no healing of man. "You are right, sir, but I think very few of us are capable of such wide and deep investigation. Most of us are educated wrongly. We become specialists, technicians, which has its uses, but unfortunately that is the end of us. Whether his specialty is the heart or the complex, each specialist builds his own little heaven, as the priest does, and though he may occasionally read something on the side, there he remains till he dies. You are right, but there it is. "Now, sir, I would like to return to my question: is there a method or technique by which we can go directly to the root of our miseries, especially those of the patient and thereby eradicate them quickly?" Again, if one may ask, why are you always thinking in terms of methods and techniques? Can a method or technique set man free, or will it merely shape him to a desired end? And the desired end, being the opposite of man's anxieties, fears, frustrations, pressures, is itself the outcome of these. The reaction of the opposite is not true action, either in the economic or the psychological world. Apart from technique or method, there may be a factor which will really help man. "What is that?" Perhaps it is love. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES II CHAPTER 41 'CLEANSED OF THE PAST' A WELL-KEPT ROAD led up to the foot of the hill, and a path continued from there. On top of the hill were the ruins of a very ancient stronghold. Thousands of years ago it was a formidable place, a fortress of gigantic rocks, of proud pillared halls with mosaic floors, of marble baths and chambers. The closer one approached this citadel, the higher and thicker its walls became, and the more vigorously it must have been defended; yet it was conquered, destroyed, and built again. The outer walls were made of enormous blocks of rock placed one on top of the other without any mortar to bind them. Within the walls there was an ancient well, many feet deep, with steps leading down to it. The steps were smooth and slippery, and the sides of the well were glistening with moisture. It was all in ruins now, but the marvellous view from the top of the hill remained. Away to the left was the sparkling sea, bordering wide open plains with hills behind them. In the near distance there were two smaller hills which in those far off days had also been fortresses, but nothing comparable to this lofty citadel that looked down on these neighbouring hills and on the plains. It was a lovely morning, with the breeze from the sea stirring the bright flowers among the ruins. These flowers were very beautiful, their colours rich and deep and they grew in extraordinary places, on rocks, in the crevices of broken walls, and in the courtyards. They had grown there, wild and free, for untold centuries, and it seemed a sacrilege to tread on them, for they crowded the path; it was their world, and we were strangers, but they did not make one feel that way. The view from this hilltop was not breath taking, like those which are seen occasionally, and which obliterate consciousness with grandeur and silence. Here it was not like that. Here there was peaceful enchantment, gentle and expansive; here you could live timelessly, without a past and a future, for you were one with this whole rapturous world. You were not a human being, a stranger from a different land, but you were those hills, those goats, and the goatherd. You were the sky and the blossoming earth; you were not apart from it, you were of it. But you were not conscious that you were of it, any more than those flowers were. You were those smiling fields, the blue sea, and the distant train with its passengers. You didn't exist, you who choose, compare, act and seek; you were with everything. Someone said that it was late and we must be going, so we went down the path on the other side of the hill, and then along the road leading to the sea. We were sitting under a tree, and he was telling how, as a young and middle aged man, he had worked in different parts of Europe throughout the two world wars. During the last one he had no home, often went hungry, and was nearly shot for something or other by this or that conquering army. He had spent sleepless and tortured nights in prison, for in his wanderings he had lost his passport, and none would believe his simple statement as to where he was born and to what country he belonged. He spoke several languages, had been an engineer, then in some sort of business, and was now painting. He now had a passport, he said with a smile, and a place to live. "There are many like me, people who were destroyed and have come back to life again," he went on. "I don't regret it, but somehow I have lost the intimate contact with life at least with what one calls life. I am fed up with armies and kings, flags and politics. They have caused as much mischief and sorrow as our official religion, which has shed more blood than any other; not even the Moslem world can compete with us in violence and horror, and now we are all at it again. I used to be very cynical, but that too has passed. I live alone, for my wife and child died during the war, and any country, as long as it is warm, is good enough for me. I don't care much one way or the other, but I sell my paintings now and then, which keeps me going. At times it is rather difficult to make ends meet, but something always turns up, and as my wants are very simple I am not greatly bothered about money. I am a monk at heart, but outside the prison of a monastery. I am telling you all this, not just to ramble on about myself, but to give you a sketch of my background, for in talking things over with you I may get to understand something which has become very vital to me. Nothing else interests me, not even my painting. "One day I set out for those hills with my painting things, for I had seen something over there which I wanted to paint. It was fairly early in the morning when I got to the place, and there were a few clouds in the sky. From where I was I could see across the valley to the bright sea. I was enchanted to be alone, and began to paint. I must have been painting for some time, and it was coming along beautifully, without any strain or effort when I became aware that something was taking place inside my head, if I can put it that way. I was so absorbed in my painting that for a while I did not notice what was happening to me, and then suddenly I was aware of it. I could not go on with my painting, but I sat very still." After a moment's pause, he continued. "Don't think me crazy, for I am not, but sitting there I was aware of an extraordinarily creative energy. It wasn't I that was creative, but something in me, something that was also in those ants and in that restless squirrel. I don't think I am explaining this very well, but surely you understand what I mean. It was not the creativeness of some Tom, Dick or Harry writing a poem, or of myself painting a silly picture; it was just creation, pure and simple, and the things produced by the mind or by the hand were on the outer fringes of this creation, with little significance. I seemed to be bathed in it; there was a sacredness about it, a benediction. If I were to put it in religious words, I would say... But I won't. Those religious words stick in my mouth, they no longer have any meaning. It was the centre of Creation, God himself.... Again these words! But I tell you, it was holy, not the man-made holiness of churches, incense and hymns, which is all immature nonsense. This was something uncontaminated, unthought of, and tears were rolling down my cheeks; I was being washed clean of all my past. The squirrel had stopped fretting about its next meal, and there was an astonishing silence - not the silence of the night when all things sleep, but a silence in which everything was awake. "I must have sat there, motionless, for a very long time, for the sun was in the west; I was a little stiff, one leg had gone to sleep, and I could stand up only with difficulty. I am not exaggerating, sir, but time seemed to have stopped - or rather, there was no time. I had no watch, but several hours must have passed from the moment I put my brush down to the moment I got up. I was not hysterical, nor had I been unconscious, as some might conclude; on the contrary, I was fully alert, aware of everything that was happening around me. Picking up all my things and carefully putting them in my knapsack, I left, and in that extraordinary state I walked back to my house. All the noises of a small town did not in any way disturb that state, and it lasted for several hours after I got home. When I awoke the next morning, it was completely gone. I looked at my painting; it was good, but nothing outstanding. "Sorry to have talked so long," he concluded, "but it has been bottled up in me, and I could not have talked to anyone else. If I did, they would call in a priest, or suggest one of those analysts. Now I am not asking for an explanation, but how does this thing come into being? What are the circumstances necessary for it to be?" You are asking this question because you want to experience it again, are you not? "I suppose that is the motive behind my question, but..." Please, let us go on from there. What is important is not that it happened, but that you should not go after it. Greed breeds arrogance, and what is necessary is humility. You cannot cultivate humility; if you do, it is no longer humility but another acquisition. It is important, not that you should have another such experience, but that there should be innocence, freedom from the memory of experience, good or bad, pleasant or painful. "Good Lord, you are telling me to forget something which has become of total importance to me. You are asking the impossible. I cannot forget it, nor do I want to." Yes, sir, that is the difficulty. please listen with patience and insight. What have you now? A dead memory. While it was happening it was a living thing and there was no `me' to experience that living thing, no memory clinging to what had been. Your mind was then in a state of innocency, without seeking, asking, or holding; it was free. But now you are seeking and clinging to the dead past. Oh, yes, it is dead; your remembrance has destroyed it and is creating the conflict of duality, the conflict between what has been and what you hope for. Conflict is death, and you are living with darkness. This thing does happen when the self is absent; but the memory of it, the craving for more, strengthens the self and prevents the living reality. "Then how am I to wipe away this exciting memory?" Again, your very question indicates the desire to recapture that state, does it not? You want to wipe away the memory of that state in order to experience it further, so craving still remains, though you are willing to forget what has been. Your craving for that extraordinary state is similar to that of a man who is addicted to drink or to a drug. What is all-important is not the further experiencing of that reality, but that this craving should be understood and should voluntarily dissolve without resistance, without the action of will. "Do you mean that the very remembering of that state, and my intense urge to experience it again, are preventing something of a similar or perhaps a different nature from happening? Must I do nothing, consciously or unconsciously, to bring it about?" If you really understand that is so. "You are asking an almost impossible thing, but one never knows." COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES II CHAPTER 42 'AUTHORITY AND CO-OPERATION' SHE HAD BEEN secretary to a big business executive, she explained, and had worked with him for many years. She must have been very efficient, for it showed in her bearing and in her words. Having put away some money, she had given up that job a couple of years ago because she desired to help the world. Still quite young and vigorous, she wanted to devote the rest of her years to something worth while, so she considered the various spiritual organizations. Before going to college she had been educated in a convent, but the things they had taught her there now seemed limited, dogmatic and authoritarian, and naturally she could not belong to such a religious institution. After studying several others, she had at last landed in one which seemed to be broader and have greater significance than most, and now she was active at the very centre of that organization, helping one of its chief workers. "At last I have found something that gives a satisfactory explanation of the whole business of existence," she went on. "Of course they have their authority in the Masters, but one doesn't have to believe in them. I happen to, but that is neither here nor there. I belong to the inner group, and as you know, we practise certain forms of meditation. Very few are now told of their initiation by the Masters, not as many as before. They are more cautious these days." If one may ask why are you explaining all this? "I was present at your discussion the other afternoon when it was stated that all following is evil. I have since attended several more of these discussions, and naturally I am disturbed by all that was said. You see, working for the Masters does not necessarily mean following them. There is authority, but it is we who need authority. They do not ask obedience of us, but we give it to them or to their representatives." If, as you say, you took part in the discussions, don't you think that what you are saying now is rather immature? Taking shelter in the Masters or in their representatives whose authority must be based on their own self-chosen duty and pleasure, is essentially the same as taking shelter in the authority of the church, is it not? One may be considered narrow and the other wide, but both are obviously binding. When one is confused one seeks guidance, but that which one finds will invariably be the outcome of one's own confusion. The leader is as confused as the follower who, out of his conflict and misery, has chosen the leader. Following another, whether it be a leader, a saviour, or a Master, does not bring about clarity and happiness. Only with the understanding of confusion and the maker of it, is there freedom from conflict and misery. This seems fairly obvious, does it not? "It may be to you, sir, but I still don't understand. We need to work along the right lines, and those who know can and do lay down certain plans for our guidance. This does not imply blind following." There is no enlightened following; all following is evil. Authority corrupts, whether in high places or among the thoughtless. The thoughtless are not made thoughtful by following another, however great and noble he may be. "I like cooperating with my friends in working for something which has worldwide significance. To work together, we need some kind of authority over us." Is it cooperation when there is the compelling influence, pleasant or unpleasant, of authority? Is it co-operation when you are working for a plan laid down by another? Are you not then consciously or unconsciously conforming through fear, through hope of reward, and so on? And is conformity cooperation? When there is authority over you, benevolent or tyrannical, can there be cooperation? Surely, cooperation comes into being only when there is the love of the thing for itself without the fear of punishment or failure, and without the hunger for success or recognition. Cooperation is possible only when there is freedom from envy, acquisitiveness, and from the craving for personal or collective dominance, power. "Aren't you much too drastic in these matters? Nothing would ever be achieved if we were to wait until we had freed our selves from all those inward causes which are obviously evil." But what are you achieving now? There must be deep earnestness and inward revolution if there is to be a different world; there must be at least some who are not consciously or unconsciously perpetuating conflict and misery. Personal ambition, and ambition for the collective, must drop away, for ambition in any form prevents love. "I am too disturbed by all that you have said, and I hope I may come back another day when I am a little more calm." She came back many days later. "After I had seen you I went away by myself to think all this over objectively and clearly and I spent several sleepless nights. My friends warned me not to be too disturbed by what you said, but I was disturbed, and I had to settle certain things for myself. I have been reading some of your talks more thoughtfully, without putting up resistance, and things are becoming clear. There is no going back, and I am not dramatizing. I have resigned from the organization, with all that it means. My friends are naturally upset, and they think I will come back; but I am afraid not. I have done this because I see the truth of what has been said. We shall see what happens now." COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES II CHAPTER 43 'MEDIOCRITY' THE STORM HAD lasted for several days, with high winds and torrential rains. The earth was soaking up the water, and the dust of many summers was being washed from the trees. In this part of the country it hadn't really rained for several years, but now it was making up for it, at least everyone hoped so, and there was gladness in the noise of the rain and the running waters. It was still raining when we all went to bed, and the patter of rain was very strong on the roof. It had a rhythm, a dance, and there was the murmur of many streams. Then what a lovely morning it was! The clouds were gone, and the hills all around were sparkling in the early morning sun; they had all been washed clean, and there was a benediction in the air. Nothing was yet stirring, and only the high hilltops were aglow. In a few minutes the noises of the day would begin; but now there was a deep peace in the valley, though the streams were gurgling and the cock had begun to crow. All the colours had come to life; everything was so vivid, the new grass and that enormous tree which seemed to dominate the valley. There was new life with abundance, and now the gods would receive their offering, gladly and freely given; now the fields would be made rich for the coming rice, and there would be no lack of fodder for the cows and the goats, now the wells would be full and marriages could be performed with gladness. The earth was red, and there would be rejoicing. "I am well aware of the state of my mind," he explained. "I have been to college and received a so-called education, and I have read fairly extensively. Politically I have been of the extreme left, and I am quite familiar with their literature. The party has become like any organized religion; it is what Catholicism was and continues to be, with the excommunications, the threats and deprivations. For a time I worked ambitiously in politics, hoping for a better world; but I have seen through that game, though I could have gone ahead in it. Long ago I saw that real reformation doesn't come through politics; politics and religion don't mix. I know it is the thing to say that we must bring religion into politics; but the moment we do, it is no longer religion, it becomes just nonsense. God doesn't talk to us in political terms but we make our own god in terms of our politics or economic conditioning. "But I haven't come to talk politics with you, and you are quite right to refuse to discuss it. I have come to talk over something that is really eating me up. The other evening you said something about mediocrity. I listened but couldn't take it in, for I was too disturbed; but as you were talking, that word `mediocrity' struck me very forcibly. I had never thought of myself as being mediocre. I am not using that word in the social sense, and as you pointed out, it has nothing to do with class and economic differences, or with birth." Of course. Mediocrity is entirely outside the field of arbitrary social divisions. "I see it is. You also said, if I remember rightly, that the truly religious person is the only revolutionary, and such a person is not mediocre. I am talking of the mediocrity of the mind, not of job or position. Those who are in the highest and most powerful positions, and those who have marvellously interesting occupations, may still be mediocre. I have neither an exalted position nor a particularly interesting occupation, and I am aware of the state of my own mind. It is just mediocre. I am a student of both western and eastern philosophy, and am interested in many other things, but in spite of this my mind is quite ordinary; it has some capacity for coordinated thinking, but it is still mediocre and uncreative." Then what is the problem sir? "First, I am really quite ashamed of the state I am in, of my own utter stupidity, and I am saying this without any self pity. Deep down in myself, in spite of all my learning, I find that I am not creative in the most profound sense of that word. It must be possible to have that creativeness of which you spoke the other day; but how is one to set about it? Is this too blunt a question?" Can we think of this problem very simply? What is it that makes the mind-heart mediocre? One may have encyclopedic knowledge, great capacity, and so on; but beyond all these superficial acquisitions and gifts, what makes the mind deeply stupid? Can the mind be, at any time, other than what it has always been? "I am beginning to see that the mind, however clever, however capable, can also be stupid. It cannot be made into something else, for it will always be what it is. It may be infinitely capable of reasoning, speculation, design calculation; but however expansible, it will always remain in the same field. I have just caught the significance of your question. You are asking whether the mind, which is capable of such astonishing feats, can transcend itself by its own will and effort." That is one of the questions that arise. If, however clever and capable, the mind is still mediocre, can it through its own volition ever go beyond itself? Mere condemnation of mediocrity, with its wide scope of eccentricities, will in no way alter the fact. And when condemnation, with all its implications, has ceased, is it possible to find out what it is that brings about the state of mediocrity? We now understand the significance of that word, so let us stick to it. Is not one of the factors of mediocrity the urge to achieve, to have a result to succeed? And when we want to become creative, we are still dealing with the matter superficially, are we not? I am this, which I want to change into that, so I ask how; but when creativeness is something to be striven after, a result to be achieved, the mind has reduced it to its own condition. This is the process that we have to understand, and not attempt to change mediocrity into something else. "Do you mean that any effort on the part of the mind to change what it is, merely leads to the continuation of itself in another form, and so there is no change at all?" That is so, is it not? The mind has brought about its present state through its own effort, through its desires and fears, through its hopes, joys and pains; and any attempt on its part to change that state is still in the same direction. A petty mind trying not to be, is still petty. Surely the problem is the cessation of all effort on the part of the mind to be something, in what ever direction. "Of course. But this does not imply negation, a state of vacuity, does it?" If one merely hears the words without catching their significance, without experimenting and experiencing, then conclusions have no validity. "So creativeness is not to be striven after, It is not to be learnt, practiced, or brought about through any action, through any form of compulsion. I see the truth of that. If I may, I shall think aloud and slowly work this out with you. My mind, which has been ashamed of its mediocrity, is now aware of the significance of condemnation. This condemnatory attitude is brought about by the desire to change; but this very desire to change is the outcome of pettiness, so the mind is still what it was and there has been no change at all. So far I have understood." What is the state of the mind when it is not attempting to change itself, to become something? "It accepts what it is." Acceptance implies that there is an entity who accepts, does it not? And is not this acceptance also a form of effort in order to gain, to experience further? So a conflict of duality is set going, which is again the same problem, for it is conflict that breeds mediocrity of mind and heart. Freedom from mediocrity is that state which comes into being when all conflict has ceased. but acceptance is merely resignation. Or has that word `acceptance' a different meaning to you? "I can see the implications of acceptance, since you have given me an insight into its significance. But what is the state of the mind which no longer accepts or condemns?" Why do you ask, sir? It is a thing to be discovered, not merely to be explained. "I am not seeking an explanation or being speculative, but is it possible for the mind to be still, without any movement, and yet be unaware of its own stillness?" To be aware of it breeds the conflict of duality, does it not? COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES II CHAPTER 44 'POSITIVE AND NEGATIVE TEACHING' THE PATH WAS rough and dusty, and it led down to a small town below. A few trees remained scattered on the hillside, but most of them had been cut down for firewood, and one had to climb to a good height to find rich shade. Up there the trees were no longer scrubby and mauled by man; they grew to full height, with thick branches and normal foliage. The people would cut down a branch to allow their goats to eat the leaves, and when it was bare they would reduce it to firewood. There was a scarcity of wood at the lower levels, and now they were going higher, climbing and destroying. Rains were not as plentiful as they used to be; the population was increasing, and the people had to live. There was hunger and one lived as indifferently as one died. There were no wild animals about here, and they must have gone higher up. There were a few birds scratching among the bushes, but even they looked worn out, with some feathers broken. A jay, white and black, was scolding raucously, flying from limb to limb of a solitary tree. It was getting warm, and it would be very hot by midday. There had not been enough rain for many years. The earth was parched and cracked, the few trees were covered with brown dust, and there was not even the morning dew. The sun was relentless, day after day, month in and month out, and the doubtful rainy season was still far away. Some goats went up the hill, with a boy looking after them. He was surprised to see anyone there, but he wouldn't smile, and with a grave look he followed the goats. It was a lonely place, and there was the silence of the coming heat. Two women came down the path carrying firewood on their heads. One was old and the other quite young, and the burdens they carried looked rather heavy. Each had balanced on her head, protected by a roll of cloth, a long bundle of dried branches tied together with a green vine, and she held it in place with one hand. Their bodies swung freely as they came down the hill with a light, running gait. They had nothing on their feet, though the path was rough. The feet seemed to find their own way, for the women never looked down; they held their heads very straight, their eyes bloodshot and distant. They were very thin, their ribs showing, and the older woman's hair was matted and un washed. The girl's hair must have been combed and oiled at one time, for there were still some clean, sparkling strands; but she too was exhausted, and there was a weariness about her. Not long ago she must have sung and played with other children but that was all over. Now, collecting wood among these hills was her life, and would be till she died, with a respite now and then with the coming of a child. Down the path we all went. The small country town was several miles away, and there they would sell their burden for a pittance, only to begin again tomorrow. They were chatting, with long intervals of silence. Suddenly the younger one told her mother she was hungry, and the mother replied that they were born with hunger, lived with hunger, and died with hunger; that was their lot. It was the statement of a fact; in her voice there was no reproach, no anger, no hope. We continued down that stony path. There was no observer listening, pitying, and walking behind them. He was not part of them out of love and pity; he was them; he had ceased and they were. They were not the strangers he had met up the hill, they were of him; his were the hands that held the bundles; and the sweat, the exhaustion the smell, the hunger, were not theirs, to be shared and sorrowed over. Time and space had ceased. There were no thoughts in our heads, too tired to think; and if we did think, it was to sell the wood, eat, rest, and begin again. The feet on the stony path never hurt, nor the sun overhead. There were only two of us going down that accustomed hill, past that well where we drank as usual, and on across the dry bed of a remembered stream. "I have read and listened to some of your talks," he said, "and to me, what you say appears very negative; there is in it no directive no positive way of life. This oriental outlook is most destructive, and look where it has landed the Orient. Your nega- tive attitude, and especially your insistence that there must be freedom from all thought, is very misleading to us westerners, who are active and industrious by temperament and necessity. What you are teaching is altogether contrary to our way of life." If one may point out, this division of people as of the West or of the East is geographic and arbitrary, is it not? It has no fundamental significance. Whether we live east or west of a certain line, whether we are brown, black, white, or yellow, we are all human beings, suffering and hoping, fearful and believing; joy and pain exist here as they exist there. Thought is not of the West or of the East, but man divides it according to his conditioning. Love is not geographic held as sacred on one continent and denied on another. The division of human beings is for economic and exploiting purposes. This does not mean that individuals are not different in temperament, and so on; there is similarity, and yet there is difference. All this is fairly obvious and psychologically factual, is it not? "It may be to you, but our culture, our way of life, is entirely different from that of the East. Our scientific knowledge, slowly developing since the days of ancient Greece, is now immense. East and West are developing along two different lines." Seeing the difference, we must yet be aware of the similarity. The outward expressions may and do vary, but behind these outward forms and manifestations the urges, compulsions, longings and fears are similar. Do not let us be deceived by words. Both here and there, man wants to have peace and plenty, and to find something more than material happiness. Civilizations may vary according to climate, environment, food and so on, but culture throughout the world is fundamentally the same: to be compassionate, to shun evil, to be generous not to be envious, to forgive, and so on. Without this fundamental culture, any civilization, whether here or there, will disintegrate or be destroyed. Knowledge may be acquired by the so-called backward peoples, they can very soon learn the `knowhow' of the West; they too can be warmongers, generals, lawyers, policemen, tyrants, with concentration camps and all the rest of it. But culture is an entirely different matter. The love of God and the freedom of man are not so easily come by and without these, material welfare doesn't mean much. "You are right in that, sir, but I wish you would consider what I said about your teachings being negative. I really would like to understand them, and don't think me rude if I appear somewhat direct in my statements." What is negative and what is positive? Most of us are used to being told what to do. The giving and following of directions is considered to be positive teaching. To be led appears to be positive, constructive, and to those who are conditioned to follow, the truth that following is evil seems negative, destructive. Truth is the negation of the false, not the opposite of the false. Truth is entirely different from the positive and the negative, and a mind which thinks in terms of the opposites can never be aware of it. "I am afraid I do not fully understand all this. Would you please explain a little more?" You see, sir, we are used to authority and guidance. The urge to be guided springs from the desire to be secure, to be protected, and also from the desire to be successful. This is one of our deeper urges, is it not? "I think it is, but without protection and security, man would..." Please let us go into the matter and not jump to conclusions. In our urge to be secure, not only as individuals, but as groups, nations and races, have we not built a world in which war, within and outside of a particular society, has become the major concern? "I know; my son was killed in a war across the seas." Peace is a state of mind; it is the freedom from all desire to be secure. The mind-heart that seeks security must always be in the shadow of fear. Our desire is not only for material security, but much more for inner, psychological security, and it is this desire to be inwardly secure through virtue, through belief, through a nation, that creates limiting and so conflicting groups and ideas. This desire to be secure, to reach a coveted end, breeds the acceptance of direction, the following of example, the worship of success the authority of leaders saviours, Masters, gurus, all of which is called positive teaching; but it is really thoughtlessness and imitation. "I see that; but is it not possible to direct or be directed without making oneself or another into an authority, a saviour?" We are trying to understand the urge to be directed, are we not? What is this urge? Is it not the outcome of fear? Being insecure, seeing impermanency about one, there is the urge to find something secure, permanent; but this urge is the impulse of fear. Instead of understanding what fear is, we run away from it, and the very running away is fear. One takes flight into the known, the known being beliefs, rituals, patriotism, the comforting formulas of religious teachers the reassurances of priests, and so on. These in turn bring conflict between man and man, so the problem is kept going from one generation to another. If one would solve the problem, one must explore and understand the root of it. This so-called positive teaching, the what-to-think of religions, including Communism, gives continuity to fear; so positive teaching is destructive. "I think I am beginning to see what your approach is, and I hope my perception is correct." It is not a personal, opinionated approach; there is no personal approach to truth, any more than there is to the discovery of scientific facts. The idea that there are separate paths to truth, that truth has different aspects, is unreal; it is the speculative thought of the intolerant trying to be tolerant. "One has to be very careful, I see, in the use of words. But I would like, if I may, to go back to a point which I raised earlier. Since most of us have been educated to think - or have been taught what to think, as you put it - , will it not bring us only more confusion when you keep on saying in different ways that all thought is conditioned and that one must go beyond all thought?" To most of us, thinking is extraordinarily important; but is it? It has a certain importance, but thought cannot find that which is not the product of thought. Thought is the result of the known, therefore it cannot fathom the unknown, the unknowable. Is not thought desire, desire for material necessities, or for the highest spiritual goal? We are talking, not about the thought of a scientist at work in the laboratory, or the thought of an absorbed mathematician, and so on, but about thought as it operates in our daily life, in our everyday contacts and responses. To survive, we are forced to think. Thinking is a process of survival, whether of the individual or of a nation. Thinking, which is desire in both its lowest and its highest form, must ever be self-enclosing, conditioning. Whether we think of the universe, of our neighbour, of ourselves, or of God, all our thinking is limited, conditioned, it not? "In the sense you are using that word `thinking', I suppose it is. But does not knowledge help to break down this conditioning." Does it? We have accumulated knowledge about so many aspects of life - medicine, war, law, science - and there is at least some knowledge of ourselves, of our own consciousness. With all this vast store of information, are we free from sorrow, war, hate? Will more knowledge free us? One may know that war is inevitable as long as the individual, the group, or the nation is ambitious, seeking power, yet one continues in the ways that lead to war. Can the centre which breeds antagonism, hate, be radically transformed through knowledge? Love is not the opposite of hate; if through knowledge hate is changed to love, then it is not love. This change brought about by thought, by will, is not love, but merely another self-protective convenience. "I don't follow this at all, if I may say so." Thought is the response of what has been, the response of memory, is it not? Memory is tradition, experience, and its reaction to any new experience is the outcome of the past; so experience is always strengthening the past. The mind is the result of the past, of time; thought is the product of many yesterdays. When thought seeks to change itself, trying to be or not to be this or that, it merely perpetuates itself under a different name. Being the product of the known, thought can never experience the unknown; being the result of time, it can never understand the timeless, the eternal. Thought must cease for the real to be. You see, sir, we are so afraid to lose what we think we have, that we never go into these things very deeply. We look at the surface of ourselves and repeat words and phrases that have very little significance; so we remain petty, and breed antagonism as thoughtlessly as we breed children. "As you said, we are thoughtless in our seeming thoughtfulness. I shall come again if I may." COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES II CHAPTER 45 'HELP' THE STREETS WERE crowded and the shops were full of things. It was the wealthy part of the town, but in the streets were people of every kind, rich and poor, labourers and office workers. There were men and women from all parts of the world, a few in their native costumes, but most of them dressed in western clothes. There were many cars, new and old, and on that spring morning the expensive ones sparkled with chrome and polish, and the people's faces were bright and smiling. The shops too were full of people, and very few seemed to be aware of the blue sky. The shop windows attracted them, the dresses, the shoes, the new cars, and the displays of food. Pigeons were everywhere, moving in and out among the many feet and between the endless cars. There was a book shop with all the latest books by innumerable authors. The people seemed to have never a care in the world; the war was far away, on another part of the globe. Money, food and work were plentiful, and there was a vast getting and spending. The streets were like canyons between the tall buildings, and there were no trees. It was noisy; there was the strange restlessness of a people who had everything and yet nothing. A huge church stood amidst fashionable shops, and opposite it was an equally big bank; both were imposing and apparently necessary. In the vast church a priest in surplice and stole was preaching about the One who suffered for the sake of man. The people knelt in prayer; there were candles, idols and incense. The priest intoned and the congregation responded; at last they rose and went out into the sunlit streets and into the shops with their array of things. Now it was silent in the church; only a few remained, lost in their own thoughts. The decorations, the richly coloured windows, the pulpit, the altar and the candles - everything was there to quiet man's mind. Is God to be found in churches, or in our hearts? The urge to be comforted breeds illusion; it is this urge which creates churches, temples and mosques. We get lost in them, or in the illusion of an omnipotent State, and the real thing goes by. The unimportant becomes all-consuming. Truth, or what you will, cannot be found by the mind; thought cannot go after it; there is no path to it; it cannot be bought through worship, prayer or sacrifice. If we want comfort, consolation, we shall have it in one way or another; but with it come further pain and misery. The desire for comfort, for security, has the power to create every form of illusion. It is only when the mind is still that there is a possibility of the coming into being of the real. There were several of us, and B. began by asking whether it is not necessary to have help if we are to understand this whole messy problem of life. Should there not be a guide, an illumined being who can show us the true path? "Have we not sufficiently gone into all that during these many years?" asked S. "I for one am not seeking a guru or a teacher." "If you are really not seeking help, then why are you here?" insisted B. "Do you mean to say that you have put away all desire for guidance?" "No, I don't think I have, and I would like to explore this urge to seek guidance or help. I do not now go window-shopping, as it were, running to the various teachers, ancient and modem, as I once did; but I do need help, and I would like to know why. And will there ever be a time when I shall no longer need help?" "Personally I would not be here if there were no help available from anyone," said M. "I have been helped on previous occasions and that is why I am here now. Even though you have pointed out the evils of following, sir, I have been helped by you, and I shall continue to come to your talks and discussions often as I can." Are we seeking evidence of whether we are being helped or not? A doctor, the smile of a child or of a passer-by, a relationship, a leaf blown by the wind, a change of climate, even a teacher, a guru - all these things can help. There is help everywhere for a man who is alert; but many of us are asleep to everything about us except to a particular teacher or book, and that is our problem. You pay attention when I say something, do you not? But when someone else says the same thing, perhaps in different words, you become deaf. You listen to one whom you consider to be the authority, and are not alert when others speak. "But I have found that what you say generally has significance," replied M. "So I listen to you attentively. When another says something it is often a mere platitude, a dull response - or perhaps I myself am dull. The point is, it helps me to listen to you, so why shouldn't I? Even if everyone insists that I am merely following you, I shall still come as often as I can manage it." Why are we open to help from one particular direction, and closed to every other direction? Consciously or unconsciously you may give me your love, your compassion, you may help me to understand my problems; but why do I insist that you are the only source of help, the only saviour? Why do I build you up as my authority? I listen to you, I am attentive to everything you say, but I am indifferent or deaf to the statement of another. Why? Is this not the issue? "You are not saying that we should not seek help," said I. "But you are asking us why we give importance to the one who helps, making of him our authority. Isn't that it?" I am also asking why you seek help. When one seeks help, what is the urge behind it? When one consciously, deliberately sets about seeking help, that one wants, or an escape, a consolation? What is it that we are seeking? "There are many kinds of help," said B. "From the domestic servant to the most eminent surgeon, from the high school teacher to the greatest scientist, they all give some kind of help. In any civilization help is necessary, not only the ordinary kind, but also the guidance of a spiritual teacher who has attained enlightenment and helps to bring order and peace to man." Please let us put aside generalities and consider what guidance or help means to each one of us. Does it not mean the resolving of individual difficulties, pains, sorrows? If you are a spiritual teacher, or a doctor, I come to you in order to be shown a happy way of life, or to be cured of some disease. We seek a way of life from the enlightened man, and knowledge or information from the learned. We want to achieve, we want to be successful, we want to be happy so we look for a pattern of life which will help us to attain what we desire, sacred or profane. After trying many other things, we think of truth as the supreme goal, the ultimate peace and happiness, and we want to attain it; so we are on the lookout to find what we desire. But can desire ever make its way to reality? Does not desire for something, however noble, breed illusion? And as desire acts, does it not set up the structure of authority, imitation and fear? This is the actual psychological process, is it not? And is this help, or self-deception? "I am having the greatest difficulty not to be persuaded by what you say!" exclaimed B. "I see the reason, the significance of it. But I know you have helped me, and am I to deny that?" If someone has helped you and you make of him your authority, then are you not preventing all further help, not only from him, but from everything about you? Does not help lie about you everywhere? Why look in only one direction? And when you are so enclosed so bound, can any help reach you? But when you are open, there is unending help in all things, from the song of a bird to the call of a human being, from the blade of grass to the immensity of the heavens. The poison and corruption begin when you look to one person as your authority, your guide, your saviour. This is so, is it not? "I think I understand what you are saying," said I. "But my difficulty is this. I have been a follower, a seeker of guidance for many years. When you point out the deeper significance of following, intellectually I agree with you, but there is a part of me that rebels. Now, how can I integrate this inward contradiction so that I shall no longer follow?" Two opposing desires or impulses cannot be integrated and when you introduce a third element which is the desire for integration, you only complicate the problem, you do not resolve it. But when you see the whole significance of asking help, of following authority, whether it be the authority of another, or of your own self-imposed pattern, then that very perception puts an end to all following. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES II CHAPTER 46 'SILENCE OF THE MIND' BEYOND THE DISTANT haze were the white sands and the cool sea, but here it was insufferably hot, even under the trees and in the house. The sky was no longer blue, and the sun seemed to have absorbed every particle of moisture. The breeze from the sea had stopped, and the mountains behind, clear and close, were reflecting the burning rays of the sun. The restless dog lay panting as though its heart would burst with this intolerable heat. There would be clear, sunny days, week after week, for many months and the hills, no longer green and soft with the spring rains, were burnt brown, the earth dry and hard. But there was beauty even now in these hills, shimmering beyond the green oak trees and the golden hay, with the barren rocks of the mountains above them. The path leading up through the hills to the high mountains was dusty, stony and rough. There were no streams, no sound of running waters. The heat was intense in these hills, but in the shade of some trees along the dry river bed it was bearable for here there was a slight breeze coming up the canyon from the valley. From this height the blue of the sea was visible many miles away. It was very quiet, even the birds were still, and a blue jay which had been noisy and quarrelsome was resting now. A brown deer was coming down the path, alert and watchful, making its way to a little pool of water in the otherwise dry bed of the stream; it moved so silently over the rocks, its large ears twitching and its great eyes watching every movement among the bushes. It drank its fill and would have lain down in the shade near the pool, but it must have been aware of the human presence it could not see, for it went uneasily down the path and disappeared. And how difficult it was to watch a coyote, a kind of wild dog among the hills! It was the same colour as the rocks, and it was doing its best not to be seen. You had to keep your eyes steadily upon it, and even then it disappeared and you could not pick it out again; you looked and looked for any movement, but there was none, perhaps it might come to the pool. Not too long ago there had been a brutal fire among these hills, and the wild things had gone away; but now some had returned. Across the path a mother quail was leading her newborn chicks, more than a dozen of them; she was softly encouraging, leading them to a thick bush. They were round, yellowish-grey balls of delicate feathers, so new to this dangerous world, but alive and enchanted. There under the bush several had climbed on top of the mother, but most of them were under her comforting wings, resting from the struggles of birth. What is it that binds us together? It is not our needs. Neither is it commerce and great industries, nor the banks and the churches; these are just ideas and the result of ideas. Ideas do not bind us together. We may come together out of convenience, or through necessity, danger, hate, or worship, but none of these things holds us together. They must all fall away from us, so that we are alone. In this aloneness there is love, and it is love that holds us together. A preoccupied mind is never a free mind, whether it is preoccupied with the sublime or with the trivial. He had come from a far distant land. Though he had had polio, the paralysing disease, he was now able to walk and drive car. "Like so many others, especially those in my condition, I have belonged to different churches and religious organizations," he said, "and none of them has given me any satisfaction; but one never stops seeking. I think I am serious, but one of my difficulties is that I am envious. Most of us are driven by ambition, greed or envy; they are relentless enemies of man, and yet one cannot seem to be without them. I have tried building various types of resistance against envy, but in spite of all my efforts I get caught up in it again and again; it is like water seeping through the roof, and before I know where I am, I find myself being more intensely envious than ever. You have probably answered this same question dozens of times, but if you have the patience I would like to ask how is one to extricate oneself from this turmoil of envy?" You must have found that with the desire not to be envious there comes the conflict of the opposites. The desire or the will not to be this, but to be that, makes for conflict. We generally consider this conflict to be the natural process of life; but is it? This everlasting struggle between what is and what should be is considered noble, idealistic; but the desire and the attempt to be non-envious is the same as being envious, is it not? If one really understands this, then there is no battle between the opposites; the conflict of duality ceases. This is not a matter to be thought over when you get home; it is a fact to be seen immediately, and this perception is the important thing, not how to be free from envy. Freedom from envy comes, not through the conflict of it the opposite, but with the understanding of what is; but this understanding is not possible as long as the mind is concerned with changing what is. "Isn't change necessary?" Can there be change through an act of will? Is not will concentrated desire? Having bred envy, desire now seeks a state in which there is no envy; both states are the product of desire. Desire cannot bring about fundamental change. "Then what will?" Perceiving the truth of what is. As long as the mind, or desire, seeks to change itself from this to that, all change is superficial and trivial. The full significance of this fact must be felt and understood, and only then is it possible for a radical transformation to take place. As long as the mind is comparing, judging, seeking a result there is no possibility of change, but only a series of unending struggles which it calls living. "What you say seems so true, but even as I listen to you I find myself caught in the struggle to change, to reach an end, to achieve a result." The more one struggles against a habit, however deep its roots, the more force one gives to it. To be aware of one habit with out choosing and cultivating another, is the ending of habit. "Then I must remain silently with what is, neither accepting nor rejecting it. This is an enormous task, but I see that it is the only way if there is to be freedom. "Now may I go on to another question? Does not the body affect the mind, and the mind in turn affect the body? I have especially noticed this in my own case. My thoughts are occupied with the memory of what I was - healthy, strong, quick of movement - and with what I hope to be, as compared with what I am now. I seem unable to accept my present state. What am I to do?" This constant comparison of the present with the past and the future brings about pain and the deterioration of the mind, does it not? It prevents you from considering the fact of your present state. The past can never be again, and the future is unpredictable, so you have only the present. You can adequately deal with the present only when the mind is free from the burden of the past memory and the future hope. When the mind is attentive to the present, without comparison then there is a possibility of other things happening. "What do you mean by `other things'?" When the mind is preoccupied with its own pains, hopes and fears, there is no space for freedom from them. The self-enclosing process of thought only cripples the mind further, so the vicious circle is set going. Preoccupation makes the mind trivial, petty, shallow. A preoccupied mind is not a free mind, and preoccupation with freedom still breeds pettiness. The mind is petty when it is preoccupied with God, with the State, with virtue, or with its own body. This preoccupation with the body prevents adapta- bility to the present, the gaining of vitality and movement, however limited. The self, with its preoccupations, brings about its own pains and problems, which affect the body; and concern over bodily ills only further hinders the body. This does not mean that health should be neglected; but preoccupation with health, like preoccupation with truth with ideas, only entrenches the mind in its own pettiness. There is a vast difference between a preoccupied mind and an active mind. An active mind is silent, aware, choiceless. "Consciously it is rather difficult to take all this in, but probably the unconscious is absorbing what you are saying; at least I hope so. "I would like to ask one more question. You see, sir, there are moments when my mind is silent, but these moments are very rare. I have pondered over the problem of meditation, and have read some of the things you have said about it, but for a longtime my body was too much for me. Now that I have become more or less inured to my physical state, I feel it is important to cultivate this silence. How is one to set about it?" Is silence to be cultivated, carefully nurtured and strengthened? And who is the cultivator? Is he different from the totality of your being? Is there silence, a still mind, when one desire dominates all others, or when it sets up resistance against them? Is there silence when the mind is disciplined, shaped, controlled? Does not all this imply a censor, a so-called higher self who controls judges, chooses? And is there such an entity? If there is, is he not the product of thought? Thought dividing itself as the high and the low, the permanent and the impermanent, is still the outcome of the past, of tradition, of time. In this division lies its own security. Thought or desire now seeks safety in silence, and so it asks for a method or a system which offers what it wants. In place of worldly things it now craves the pleasure of silence, so it breeds conflict between what is and what should be. There is no silence where there is conflict, repression, resistance. "Should one not seek silence?" There can be no silence as long as there is a seeker. There is the silence of a still mind only when there is no seeker, when there is no desire. Without replying, put this question to yourself: Can the whole of your being be silent? Can the totality of the mind, the conscious as well as the unconscious, be still? COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES II CHAPTER 47 'CONTENTMENT' THE PLANE WAS crowded. It was flying at twenty-odd thousand feet over the Atlantic and there was a thick carpet of clouds below. The sky above was intensely blue, the sun was behind us, and we were flying due west. The children had been playing, running up and down the aisle and now tired out, they were sleeping. After the long night everyone else was awake, smoking and drinking. A man in front was telling another about his business, and a woman in the seat behind was describing in a pleased voice the things she had bought and speculating on the amount of duty she would have to pay. At that altitude the flight was smooth, there wasn't a bump, though there were rough winds below us. The wings of the plane were bright in the clear sunlight and the propellers were turning over smoothly, biting into the air at fantastic speed; the wind was behind us and we were doing over three hundred miles an hour. Two men just across the narrow aisle were talking rather loudly, and it was difficult not to overhear what they were saying. They were big men, and one had a red, weather-beaten face. He was explaining the business of killing whales, how risky it was, what profits there were in it, and how frightfully rough the seas were. Some whales weighed hundreds of tons. The mothers with calves were not supposed to be killed, nor were they permitted to kill more than a certain number of whales within a specified time. Killing these great monsters had apparently been worked out most scientifically, each group having a special job to do for which it was technically trained. The smell of the factory ship was almost unbearable, but one got used to it, as one can to almost anything. But there was lots of money in it if all went well. He began to explain the strange fascination of killing, but at that moment drinks were brought and the subject of conversation changed. Human beings like to kill, whether it be each other, or a harmless, bright-eyed deer in the deep forest, or a tiger that has preyed upon cattle. A snake is deliberately run over on the road; a trap is set and a wolf or a coyote is caught. Well dressed, laughing people go out with their precious guns and kill birds that were lately calling to each other. A boy kills a chattering blue jay with his air gun, and the elders around him say never a word of pity, or scold him; on the contrary, they say what a good shot he is. Killing for so-called sport, for food, for one's country, for peace - there is not much difference in all this. Justification is not the answer. There is only: do not kill. In the West we think that animals exist for the sake of our stomachs, or for the pleasure of killing, or for their fur. In the East it has been taught for centuries and repeated by every parent: do not kill be pitiful, be compassionate. Here animals have no souls, so they can be killed with impunity; there animals have souls, so consider and let your heart know love. To eat animals, birds, is regarded here as a normal natural thing, sanctioned by church and advertisements; there it is not, and the thoughtful, the religious, by tradition and culture, never do. But this too is rapidly breaking down. Here we have always killed in the name of God and country, and now it is everywhere. Killing is spreading; almost overnight the ancient cultures are being swept aside, and efficiency, ruthlessness and the means of destruction are being carefully nurtured and strengthened. Peace is not with the politician or the priest, neither is it with the lawyer or the policeman. Peace is a state of mind when there is love. He was a man of small business, struggling but able to make ends meet. "I haven't come to talk about my work," he said. "It gives me what I need, and as my needs are few, I get along. Not being over ambitious, I am not in the game of dog eat dog. One day, as I was passing by, I saw a crowd under the trees, and I stopped to listen to you. That was a couple of years ago and what you said set something stirring in me. I am not too well educated, but I now read your talks, and here I am. I used to be content with my life, with my thoughts, and with the few scattered beliefs which lay lightly on my mind. But ever since that Sunday morning when I wandered into this valley in my car and came by chance to hear you, I have been discontented. It is not so much with my work that I am discontented, but discontent has taken hold of my whole being. I used to pity the people who were discontented. They were so miserable, nothing satisfied them - and now I have joined their ranks. I was once satisfied with my life, with my friends, and with the things I was doing, but now I am discontented and unhappy." If one may ask, what do you mean by that word `discontent'? "Before that Sunday morning when I heard you, I was a contented person, and I suppose rather a bore to others; now I see how stupid I was, and I am trying to be intelligent and alert to everything about me. I want to amount to something, get somewhere, and this urge naturally makes for discontent. I used to be asleep if I may put it that way, but now I am waking up." Are you waking up, or are you trying to put yourself to sleep again through the desire to become something? You say you were asleep, and that now you are awake; but this awakened state makes you discontented, which displeases you, gives you pain, and to escape from this pain you are attempting to become something, to follow an ideal, and so on. This imitation is putting you back to sleep again, is it not? "But I don't want to go back to my old state, and I do want to be awake." Isn't it very strange how the mind deceives itself? The mind doesn't like to be disturbed, it doesn't like to be shaken out of its old patterns, its comfortable habits of thought and action; being disturbed, it seeks ways and means to establish new bound- aries and pastures in which it can live safely. It is this zone of safety that most of us are seeking, and it is the desire to be safe, to be secure, that puts us to sleep. Circumstances, a word, a gesture, an experience, may awaken us, disturb us, but we want to be put to sleep again. This is happening to most of us all the time, and it is not an awakened state. What we have to understand are the ways in which the mind puts itself to sleep. This is so, is it not? "But there must be a great many ways in which the mind puts itself to sleep. Is it possible to know and avoid them all?" Several could be pointed out; but this would not solve the problem, would it? "Why not?" Merely to learn the ways in which the mind puts itself to sleep is again to find a means, perhaps different, of being undisturbed, secure. The important thing is to keep awake, and not ask how to keep awake; the pursuit of the `how' is the urge to be safe. "Then what is one to do?" Stay with discontent without desiring to pacify it. It is the desire to be undisturbed that must be understood. This desire, which takes many forms, is the urge to escape from what is. When this urge drops away - but not through any form of compulsion, either conscious or unconscious - only then does the pain of discontent cease. Comparison of what is with what should be brings pain. The cessation of comparison is not a state of contentment; it is a state of wakefulness without the activities of the self. "All this is rather new to me. It seems to me that you give to words quite a different significance but communication is possible only when both of us give the same meaning to the same word at the same time." Communication is relationship, is it not? "You jump to wider significance than I am now capable of grasping. I must go more deeply into all this, and then perhaps I shall understand." COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES II CHAPTER 48 'THE ACTOR' THE ROAD CURVED in and out through the low hills, mile after endless mile. The burning rays of the afternoon sun lay on the golden hills, and there were deep shadows under the scattered trees, which spoke of their solitary existence. For miles around there was no habitation of any kind; here and there were a few lonely cattle, and only occasionally another car would appear on the smooth, well-kept road. The sky was very blue to the north and glare to the west. The country was strangely alive, though barren and isolated, and far away from human joy and pain. There were no birds, and you saw no wild animals apart from the few ground squirrels that scurried across the road. No water was visible except in one or two places where the cattle were. With the rains the hills would turn green, soft and welcoming, but now they were harsh, austere, with the beauty of great stillness. It was a strange evening, full and intense, but as the road wove in and out among the rolling hills, time had come to an end. The sign said it was eighteen miles to the main road leading north. It would take half an hour or so to get there: time and distance. Yet at that moment, looking at that sign on the roadside, time and distance had ceased. It was not a measurable moment, it had no beginning and no end. The blue sky and the rolling, golden hills were there, vast and everlasting, but they were part of this timelessness. The eyes and the mind were watchful of the road; the dark and lonely trees were vivid and intense, and each separate blade of hay on the curving hills stood out, simple and clear. The light of that late afternoon was very still around the trees and among the hills, and the only moving thing was the car, going so fast. The silence between words was of that measureless stillness. This road would come to an end joining another, and that too would peter out somewhere; those still, dark trees would fall and their dust would be scattered and lost; tender green grass would come up with the rains, and it too would wither away. Life and death are inseparable, and in their separation lies everlasting fear. Separation is the beginning of time; the fear of an end gives birth to the pain of a beginning. In this wheel the mind is caught and spins out the web of time. Thought is the process and the result of time, and thought cannot cultivate love. He was an actor of some repute who was making a name for himself, but he was still young enough to inquire and suffer. "Why does one act?" he asked. "To some the stage is merely a means of livelihood, to others it offers a means for the expression of their own vanity, and to still others, playing various roles is a great stimulations. The stage also offers a marvellous escape from the realities of life. I act for all these reasons, and perhaps also because - I say this with hesitancy - I hope to do some good through the stage." Does not acting give strength to the self, to the ego? We pose, we put on masks, and gradually the pose, the mask becomes the daily habit, covering the many selves of contradiction, greed, hate, and so on. The ideal is a pose, a mask covering the fact, the actual. Can one do good through the stage? "Do you mean that one cannot?" No, it is a question, not a judgment. In writing a play the author has certain ideas and intentions which he wants to put across; the actor is the medium, the mask, and the public is entertained or educated. Is this education doing good? Or is it merely conditioning the mind to a pattern, good or bad, intelligent or stupid, devised by the author? "Good Lord, I never thought about all this. You see, I can become a fairly successful actor, and before I get lost in it completely, I am asking myself if acting is to be my way of life. It has a curious fascination of its own, sometimes very destructive, and at other times very pleasant. You can take acting seriously, but in itself it is not very serious. As I am inclined to be rather serious, I have wondered if I should make the stage my career. There is something in me that rebels against the absurd superficiality of it all, and yet I am greatly attracted to it; so I am disturbed, to put it mildly. Through all this runs the thread of seriousness. Can another decide what should be one's way of life? "No, but in talking the matter over with another, things sometimes become clear." If one may point out, any activity that gives emphasis to the self, to the ego, is destructive; it brings sorrow. This is the principal issue, is it not? You said earlier that you wanted to do good; but surely the good is not possible when, consciously or unconsciously, the self is being nourished and sustained through any career or activity. "Is not all action based on the survival of the self?" Perhaps not always. Outwardly it may appear that an action is self-protective, but inwardly it may not be at all. What others say or think in this regard is not of great importance, but one should not deceive oneself. And self-deception is very easy in psychological matters. "It seems to me that if I am really concerned with the abnegation of the self, I shall have to withdraw into a monastery or lead a hermit's life." Is it necessary to lead a hermit's life in order to abnegate the self? You see, we have a concept of the selfless life, and it is this concept which prevents the understanding of a life in which the self is not. The concept is another form of the self. Without escaping to monasteries and so on, is it not possible to be passively alert to the activities of the self? This awareness may bring about a totally different activity which does not breed sorrow and misery. "Then there are certain professions that are obviously detrimental to a sane life, and I include mine among them. I am still quite young. I can give up the stage, and after going into all this, I am pretty sure I will; but then what am I to do? I have certain talents which may ripen and be useful." Talent may become a curse. The self may use and entrench itself in capacities, and then talent becomes the way and the glory of the self. The gifted man may offer his gifts to God, knowing the danger of them; but he is conscious of his gifts, otherwise he would not offer them, and it is this consciousness of being or having something, that must be understood. The offering up of what one is or has in order to be humble, is vanities. "I am beginning to get a glimpse of all this, but it is still very complex." Perhaps; but what is important is choiceless awareness of the obvious and the subtle activities of the self. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES II CHAPTER 49 'THE WAY OF KNOWLEDGE' THE SUN HAD set behind the mountains, and the roseate glow was still on the rocky range to the east. The path led down, wandering in and out through the green valley. It was a calm evening, and there was a slight breeze among the leaves. The evening star was just visible high over the horizon, and presently it would be quite dark, for there was no moon. The trees, which had been open and welcoming, were withdrawing into themselves from the dark night. It was cool and silent among these hills and now the sky was full of stars and the mountains were clear and sharp against them. That smell peculiar to the night was filling the air, and far away a dog was barking It was a very still night, and this stillness seemed to penetrate into the rocks, the trees, into all the things about one, and the footsteps on the rough path did not disturb it. The mind too was utterly still. After all, meditation is not a means to produce a result, to bring about a state which has been or which might be. If meditation is with intention, the desired result may be achieved, but then it is not meditation, it is only the fulfilment of desire. Desire is never satisfied, there is no end to desire. The understanding of desire, without trying to put a stop to it, or sustain it, is the beginning and the end of medita- tion. But there is something beyond this. It is strange how the meditator persists; he seeks to continue, he becomes the observer, the experiencer, a recollecting mechanism, the one who evaluates, accumulates, rejects. When meditation is of the meditator, it only strengthens the meditator, the experiencer. The stillness of the mind is the absence of the experiencer, of the observer who is aware that he is still. When the mind is still, there is the awakened state. You can be intently awake to many things, you can probe, seek, inquire, but these are the activities of desire, of will, of recognition and gain. That which is ever awake is neither desire nor the product of desire. Desire breeds the conflict of duality, and conflict is darkness. Well connected and rich, she was now on the hunt for the spiritual. She had sought out the Catholic masters and the Hindu teachers, had studied with the Sufis and dabbled in Buddhism. "Of course," she added, "I have also looked into the occult, and now I have come to learn from you." Does wisdom lie in the accumulation of much knowledge? If one may ask, what is it that you are seeking? "I have gone after different things at different periods of my life and what I have sought I have generally found. I have gathered much experience, and have had a rich and varied life. I read a great deal on a variety of subjects, and have been to one of the eminent analysts, but I am still seeking." Why are you doing all this? Why this search, whether superficial or deep? "What a strange question to ask! If one did not seek, one would vegetate; if one did not constantly learn, life would have no meaning, one might just as well die." Again, what are you learning? In reading what others have said about the structure and behaviour of human beings, in analysing social and cultural differences, in studying any of the various sciences or schools of philosophy, what is it that you are gathering? "I feel that if only one had enough knowledge it would save one from strife and misery, so I gather it where I can. Knowledge is essential to understanding." Does understanding come through knowledge? Or does knowledge prevent creative understanding? We seem to think that by accumulating facts and information, by having encyclopedic knowledge, we shall be set free from our bondages. This is simply not so. Antagonism, hatred and war have not been stopped, though we all know how destructive and wasteful they are. Knowledge is not necessarily preventive of these things; on the contrary, it may stimulate and encourage them. So is it not important to find out why we are gathering knowledge? "I have talked to many educators who think that if knowledge can be spread sufficiently widely it will dissipate man's hatred for man and prevent the complete destruction of the world. I think this is what most serious educators are concerned with." Though we now have so much knowledge in so many fields,it has not stopped man's brutality to man even among those of the same group, nation, or religion. Perhaps knowledge is blinding us to some other factor that is the real solution to all this chaos and misery. "What is that?" In what spirit are you asking that question? A verbal answer could be given, but it would only be adding more words to an already overburdened mind. For most people, knowledge is the accumulation of words or the strengthening of their prejudices and beliefs. Words, thoughts, are the framework in which the self concept exists. This concept contracts or expands through experience and knowledge, but the hard core of the self remains, and mere knowledge or learning can never dissolve it. Revolution is the voluntary dissolution of this core, of this concept, whereas action born of self-perpetuating knowledge can only lead to greater misery and destruction. "You suggested that there might be a different factor which is the true solution to all our miseries, and I am asking in all seriousness what that factor is. If such a factor exists and one could know and build one's whole life around it, a totally new culture might well be the outcome." Thought can never find it, the mind can never seek it out. You want to know and build your life around it; but the `you' with its knowledge, its fears its hopes, frustrations and illusions, can never discover it; and without discovering it, merely to acquire more knowledge, more learning, will only act as a further barrier to the coming into being of that state. "If you won't guide me to it, I shall have to seek it out for myself; and yet you imply that all search must cease." If there were guidance, there would be no discovery. There must be freedom to discover, not guidance. Discovery is not a reward. "I am afraid I do not understand all this." You seek guidance in order to find; but if you are guided you are no longer free, you become a slave to the one who knows. He who asserts that he knows is already a slave to his knowledge, and he also must be free to find. Finding is from moment to moment, so knowledge becomes an impediment. "Would you please explain a little more?" Knowledge is always of the past. What you know is already in the past, is it not? You do not know the present or the future. The strengthening of the past is the way of knowledge. What may be uncovered may be totally new, and your knowledge, which is the accumulation of the past, cannot fathom the new, the unknown. "Do you mean that one must get rid of all one's knowledge if one is to find God, love or whatever it is?" The self is the past, the power to accumulate things, virtues, ideas. Thought is the outcome of this conditioning of yesterday, and with this instrument you are trying to uncover the unknowable. This is not possible. Knowledge must cease for the other to be. "Then how is one to empty the mind of knowledge?" There is no `how'. The practice of a method only further conditions the mind, for then you have a result, not a mind that is free from knowledge, from the self. There is no way, but only passive awareness of the truth with regard to knowledge. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES II CHAPTER 50 'CONVICTIONS--DREAMS' HOW BEAUTIFUL IS the earth with its deserts and rich fields, its forests, rivers and mountains, its untold birds and animals and human beings! There are villages filthy and diseased, where it has not rained enough for many seasons; the wells are all but dry and the cattle are skin and bones; the fields are cracked, and the ground-nut is withering away; the sugarcane is no longer planted, and the river has not flowed for several years. They beg they steal, and go hungry; they die waiting for the rains. Then there are the opulent cities with their clean streets and shiny new cars, their washed and well-dressed people, their endless shops filled with things, their libraries, universities and slums. The earth is beautiful and its soil, around the temple and in the arid desert,is sacred. To imagine is one thing, and to perceive what is is another, but both are binding. It is easy to perceive what is, but to be free of it is another matter; for perception is clouded with judgment, with comparison, with desire. To perceive without the interference of the censor is arduous. Imagination builds the image of the self, and thought then functions within its shadows. From this self-concept grows the conflict between what is and what should be, the conflict in duality. perception of the fact and idea about the fact, are two entirely different states, and only a mind that is not bound by opinion, by comparative values, is capable of perceiving what is true. She had come a long distance by train and bus, and the last bit she had had to walk; but as it was a cool day, the climb was not too much. "I have a rather pressing problem which I would like to talk over," she said. "When two people who love each other are adamant in their diametrically opposed convictions, what is to be done? Must one or the other give in? Can love bridge this separating and destructive gap?" If there were love, would there be these fixed convictions which separate and bind? "Perhaps not, but it has now gone beyond the state of love; the convictions have become hard, brutal, unyielding. One maybe flexible, but if the other is not, there is bound to be an explosion. Can one do anything to avoid it? One may yield temporize, but if the other is wholly intransigent, life with that person becomes impossible, there is no relationship with him. This intransigence is leading to dangerous results, but the person concerned doesn't seem to mind inviting martyrdom for his convictions. It all seems rather absurd when one considers the illusory nature of ideas; but ideas take deep root when one has nothing else. Kindliness and consideration vanish in the harsh brilliancy of ideas. The person concerned is completely convinced that his ideas, theories which he has got from reading, are going to save the world by bringing peace and plenty to all, and he considers that killing and destruction, when necessary, are justified as a means to that idealistic end. The end is all-important, and not the means; no one matters as long as that end is achieved." To such a mind, salvation lies in the destruction of those who are not of the same conviction. Some religions have in the past thought this to be the way to God, and they still have excommunications, threats of eternal hell, and so on. This thing you are talking about is the latest religion. We seek hope in churches, in ideas, in `flying saucers', in Masters, in gurus, all of which only leads to greater misery and destruction. In oneself one has to be free from this intransigent attitude; for ideas, however great, however subtle and persuasive, are illusion, they separate and destroy. When the mind is no longer caught in the net of ideas, opinions, convictions, then there is something wholly different from the projections of the mind. The mind is not our last resort in resolving our problems; on the contrary, it is the maker of problems. "I know that you do not advise people, sir, but all the same, what is one to do? I have been asking myself this question for many months, and I haven't found the answer. But even now as I put that question I am beginning to see that there is no definite answer that one must live from moment to moment, taking things as they come and forgetting oneself. Then perhaps it is possible to be gentle, to forgive. But how difficult it is going to be!" When you say `how difficult it is going to be', you have already stopped living from moment to moment with love and gentleness. The mind has projected itself into the future, creating a problem -which is the very nature of the self. The past and the future are its sustenance. "May I ask something else? Is it possible for me to interpret my own dreams? Lately I have been dreaming a great deal and I know that these dreams are trying to tell me something, but I cannot interpret the symbols, the pictures that keep repeating themselves in my dreams. These symbols and pictures are not always the same, they vary, but fundamentally they all have the same content and significance - at least I think so, though of course I may be mistaken." What does that word `interpret' mean with regard to dreams? "As I explained, I have a very grave problem which has been bothering me for many months, and my dreams are all concerned with this problem. They are trying to tell me something, perhaps give me a hint of what I should do, and if I could only interpret them correctly I would know what it is they are trying to convey." Surely, the dreamer is not separate from his dream; the dreamer is the dream. Don't you think this is important to understand? "I don't understand what you mean. Would you please explain?" Our consciousness is a total process, though it may have contradictions within itself. It may divide itself as the conscious and the unconscious, the hidden and the open, in it there may be opposing desires values, urges, but that consciousness is nevertheless a total, unitary process. The conscious mind may be aware of a dream, but the dream is the outcome of the activity of the whole consciousness. When the upper layer of conscious- ness tries to interpret a dream which is a projection of the whole consciousness, then its interpretation must be partial, incomplete, twisted. The interpreter inevitably misrepresents the symbol, the dream. "I am sorry, but this is not clear to me." The conscious, superficial mind is so occupied with anxiety, with trying to find a solution to its problem, that during the waking period it is never quiet. In so-called sleep, being perhaps somewhat quieter, less disturbed, it gathers an intimation of the activity of the whole consciousness. This intimation is the dream, which the anxious mind upon waking tries to interpret; but its interpretation will be incorrect, for it is concerned with immediate action and its results. The urge to interpret must cease before there can be the understanding of the whole process of consciousness. You are very anxious to find out what is the right thing to do with regard to your problem, are you not? That very anxiety is preventing the understanding of the problem and so there is a constant change of symbols behind which the content seems to be always the same. So, what now is the problem? "Not to be afraid of whatever happens." Can you so easily put away fear? A mere verbal statement does not do away with anxiety. But is that the problem? You may wish to do away with fear, but then the `how', the method, becomes important, and you have a new problem as well as the old one. So we move from problem to problem and are never free of them. But we are now talking of something wholly different, are we not? We are not concerned with the substitution of one problem for another. "Then I suppose the real problem is to have a quiet mind." Surely, that is the only issue: a still mind. "How can I have a still mind?" See what you are saying. You want to possess a still mind, as you would possess a dress or a house. Having a new objective, the stillness of the mind, you begin to inquire into the ways and means of getting it, so you have another problem on your hands. Just be aware of the utter necessity and importance of a still mind. Don't struggle after stillness, don't torture yourself with discipline in order to acquire it, don't cultivate or practise it. All these efforts produce a result, and that which is a result is not stillness. What is put together can be undone. Do not seek continuity of stillness. Stillness is to be experienced from moment to moment; it cannot be gathered. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES II CHAPTER 51 'DEATH' THE RIVER WAS very wide here, almost a mile and very deep; in midstream the waters were clear and blue, but towards the banks they were sullied, dirty and sluggish. The sun was setting behind the huge, sprawling city up the river; the smoke and the dust of the town were giving marvellous colours to the setting sun, which were reflected on the wide, dancing waters. It was a lovely evening and every blade of grass, the trees and the chattering birds, were caught in timeless beauty. Nothing was separate, broken up. The noise of a train rattling over the distant bridge was part of this complete stillness. Not far away a fisherman was singing. There were wide, cultivated strips along both banks, and during the day the green, luscious fields were smiling and inviting; but now they were dark, silent and withdrawn. On this side of the river there was a large, uncultivated space where the children of the village flew their kites and romped about in noisy enjoyment, and where the nets of the fishermen were spread out to dry. They had their primitive boats anchored there. The village was just above higher up the bank, and generally they had singing, dancing, or some other noisy affair going on up there; but this evening, though they were all out of their huts and sitting about, the villagers were quiet and strangely thoughtful. A group of them were coming down the steep bank, carrying on a bamboo litter a dead body covered with white cloth. They passed by and I followed. Going to the river's edge, they put down the litter almost touching the water. They had brought with them fastburning wood and heavy logs, and making of these a pyre they laid the body on it, sprinkling it with water from the river and covering it with more wood and hay. A very young man lit the pyre. There were about twenty of us, and we all gathered around. There were no women present, and the men sat on their haunches, wrapped in their white cloth, completely still. The fire was getting intensely hot, and we had to move back. A charred black leg rose out of the fire and was pushed back with a long stick; it wouldn't stay, and a heavy log was thrown on it. The bright yellow flames were reflected on the dark water, and so were the stars. The slight breeze had died down with the setting of the sun. Except for the crackling of the fire, everything was very still. Death was there, burning. Amidst all those motionless people and the living flames there was infinite space, a measureless distance, a vast aloneness. It was not something apart, separate and divided from life. The beginning was there and ever the beginning. Presently the skull was broken and the villagers began to leave. The last one to go must have been a relative; he folded his hands, saluted, and slowly went up the bank. There was very little left now; the towering flames were quiet, and only glowing embers remained. The few bones that did not burn would be thrown into the river tomorrow morning. The immensity of death, the immediacy of it, and how near! With the burning away of that body, one also died. There was complete aloneness and yet not apartness, a loneness but not isolation. Isolation is of the mind but not of death. Well advanced in age, with quiet manners and dignity, he had clear eyes and a quick smile. It was cold in the room and he was wrapped in a warm shawl. Speaking in English, for he had been educated abroad, he explained that he had retired from governmental work and had plenty of time on his hands. He had studied various religions and philosophies, he said but had not come this long way to discuss such matters. The early morning sun was on the river and the waters were sparkling like thousands of jewels. There was a small golden-green bird on the veranda sunning itself, safe and quiet. "What I have really come for," he continued, "is to ask about or perhaps to discuss the thing that most disturbs me: death. I have read the Tibetan Book of the Dead, and am familiar with what our own books say on the subject. The Christian and Islamic suggestions concerning death are much too superficial. I have talked to various religious teachers here and abroad, but to me at least all their theories appear to be very unsatisfactory. I have thought a great deal about the subject and have often meditated upon it, but I don't seem to get any further. A friend of mine who heard you recently told me something of what you were saying, so I have come. To me the problem is not only the fear of death, the fear of not being, but also what happens after death. This has been a problem for man throughout the ages, and no one appears to have solved it. What do you say?" Let us first dispose of the urge to escape from the fact of death through some form of belief, such as reincarnation or resurrection, or through easy rationalization. The mind is so eager to find a reasonable explanation of death, or a satisfying answer to this problem, that it easily slips into some kind of illusion. Of this, one has to be extremely watchful. "But isn't that one of our greatest difficulties? We crave for some kind of assurance especially from those whom we consider to have knowledge or experience in this matter; and when we can't find such an assurance we bring into being, out of despair and hope, our own comforting beliefs and theories. So belief, the most outrageous or the most reasonable, becomes a necessity." However gratifying an escape may be, it does not in any way bring understanding of the problem. That very flight is the cause of fear. Fear comes in the movement away from the fact, the what is. Belief, however comforting, has in it the seed of fear. One shuts oneself off from the fact of death because one doesn't want to look at it, and beliefs and theories offer an easy way out. So if the mind is to discover the extraordinary significance of death it must discard, easily, without resistance, the craving for some hopeful comfort. This is fairly obvious, don't you think? "Aren't you asking too much? To understand death we must be in despair; isn't that what you are saying?" Not at all, sir. Is there despair when there is not that state which we call hope? Why should we always think in opposites? Is hope the opposite of despair? If it is, then that hope holds within it the seed of despair, and such hope is tinged with fear. If there is to be understanding is it not necessary to be free of the opposites? The state of the mind is of the greatest importance. The activities of despair and hope prevent the understanding or the experiencing of death. The movement of the opposites must cease. The mind must approach the problem of death with a totally new awareness in which the familiar, the recognizing process, is absent. "I am afraid I don't quite understand that statement. I think I vaguely grasp the significance of the mind's being free from the opposites. Though it is an enormously difficult task, I think I see the necessity of it. But what it means to be free from the recognizing process altogether eludes me." Recognition is the process of the known, it is the outcome of the past. The mind is frightened of that with which it is not familiar. If you knew death, there would be no fear of it, no need for elaborate explanations. But you cannot know death, it is something totally new, never experienced before. What is experienced becomes the known, the past, and it is from this past, from this known that recognition takes place. As long as there is this movement from the past, the new cannot be. "Yes, yes, I am beginning to feel that, sir." What we are talking over together is not something to be thought about later, but to be directly experienced as we go along. This experience cannot be stored up for if it is, it becomes memory, and memory, the way of recognition, blocks the new, the unknown. Death is the unknown. The problem is not what death is and what happens thereafter, but for the mind to cleanse itself of the past, of the known. Then the living mind can enter the abode of death, it can meet death, the unknown. "Are you suggesting that one can know death while still alive?" Accident, disease and old age bring death, but under these circumstances it is not possible to be fully conscious. There is pain, hope or despair, the fear of isolation, and the mind, the self, is consciously or unconsciously battling against death, the inevitable. With feudal resistance against death we pass away. But is it possible - without resistance, without morbidity, without a sadistic or suicidal urge, and while fully alive, mentally vigorous - to enter the house of death? This is possible only when the mind dies to the known, to the self. So our problem is not death, but for the mind to free itself from the centuries of gathered psychological experience, from evermounting memory, the strengthening and refining of the self. "But how is this to be done? How can the mind free itself from its own bondages? It seems to me that either an outside agency is necessary, or else the higher and nobler part of the mind must intervene to purify the mind of the past." This is quite a complex issue, is it not? The outside agency may be environmental influence, or it may be something beyond the boundaries of the mind. If the outside agency is environmental influence, it is that very influence, with its traditions, beliefs and cultures, that has held the mind in bondage. If the outside agency is something beyond the mind, then thought in any form cannot touch it. Thought is the outcome of time; thought is anchored to the past, it can never be free from the past. If thought frees itself from the past, it ceases to be thought. To speculate upon what is beyond the mind is utterly vain. For the intervention of that which is beyond thought, thought which is the self must cease. Mind must be without any movement, it must be still with the stillness of no motive. Mind cannot invite it. The mind may and does divide its own field of activities as noble and ignoble, desirable and undesirable, higher and lower, but all such divisions and subdivisions are within the boundaries of the mind itself; so any movement of the mind, in any direction, is the reaction of the past, of the `me', of time. This truth is the only liberating factor, and he who does not perceive this truth will ever be in bondage, do what he may; his penances, vows, disciplines, sacrifices may have sociological and comforting significance, but they have no value in relation to truth. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES II CHAPTER 52 'EVALUATION' MEDITATION IS a very important action in life; perhaps it is the action that has the greatest and deepest significance. It is a perfume that cannot easily be caught; it is not to be bought through striving and practice. A system can yield only the fruit it offers, and the system, the method, is based on envy and greed. Not to be able to meditate is not to be able to see the sunlight, the dark shadows, the sparkling waters and the tender leaf. But how few see these things! Meditation has nothing to offer; you may not come begging with folded hands. It doesn't save you from any pain. It makes things abundantly clear and simple; but to perceive this simplicity the mind must free itself, without any cause or motive, from all the things it has gathered through cause and motive. This is the whole issue in meditation. Meditation is the purgation of the known. To pursue the known in different forms is a game of self-deception, and then the meditator is the master, there is not the simple act of meditation. The meditator can act only in the field of the known; he must cease to act for the unknown to be. The unknowable doesn't invite you, and you cannot invite it. It comes and goes as the wind, and you cannot capture it and store it away for your benefit, for your use. It has no utilitarian value, but without it life is measurelessly empty. The question is not how to meditate, what system to follow, but what is meditation? The `how' can only produce what the method offers, but the very inquiry into what is meditation will open the door to meditation. The inquiry does not lie outside of the mind, but within the movement of the mind itself. In pursuing that inquiry, what becomes all-important is to understand the seeker himself, and not what he seeks. What he seeks is the projection of his own craving, of his own compulsions, desires. When this fact is seen, all searching ceases, which in itself is enormously significant. Then the mind is no longer grasping at something beyond itself, there is no outward movement with its reaction inwards; but when seeking has entirely stopped, there is a movement of the mind which is neither outward nor inward. Seeking does not come to an end by any act of will, or by a complex process of conclusions. To stop seeking demands great understanding. The ending of search is the beginning of a still mind. A mind that is capable of concentration is not necessarily able to meditate. Self-interest does bring about concentration, like any other interest, but such concentration implies a motive, a cause, conscious or unconscious; there is always a thing to be gained or set aside, an effort to comprehend to get to the other shore. Attention with an aim is concerned with accumulation. The attention that comes with this movement towards or away from something is the attraction of pleasure or the repulsion of pain, but meditation is that extraordinary attention in which there is no maker of effort, no end or object to be gained. Effort is part of the acquisitive process, it is the gathering of experience by the experiencer. The experiencer may concentrate, pay attention, be aware; but the craving of the experiencer for experience must wholly cease, for the experiencer is merely an accumulation of the known. There is great bliss in meditation. He explained that he had studied philosophy and psychology, and had read what Patanjali had to say. He considered Christian thought rather superficial and given to mere reformation, so he had gone to the East, had practiced some kind of yoga, and was fairly familiar with Hindu thought. "I have read something of what you have been saying and I think I can follow it up to a certain point. I see the importance of not condemning, though I find it extremely difficult not to condemn; but I cannot understand at all when you say, `Do not evaluate, do not judge'. All thinking, it seems to me, is a process of evaluation. Our life, our whole outlook, is based on choice, on values, on good and bad, and so on. Without values we would just disintegrate, and surely you do not mean that. I have tried to empty my mind of all norm or value, and for me at least it is impossible." Is there thinking without verbalization, without symbols? Are words necessary to thinking? If there were no symbols, referents, would there be what we call thinking? Is all thinking verbal, or is there thinking without words? "I do not know, I have never considered the matter. As far as I can perceive, without images and words there would be nothing." Shouldn't we find out the truth of this matter now, while we are here talking about it? Is it not possible to find out for oneself whether or not there is thinking without words and symbols? "But in what way is this related to evaluation?" The mind is made up of referents associations, images and words. Evaluation comes from this background. Words like God, love, Socialism, Communism, and so on, play an extraordinarily important part in our lives. Neurologically as well as psychologically words have significance according to the culture in which we are brought up. To a Christian certain words and symbols have enormous significance, and to a Moslem another set of words and symbols has an equally vital significance. Evaluation takes place within this area. "Can one go beyond this area? And even if one can, why should one?" Thinking is always conditioned; there is no such thing as freedom of thought. You may think what you like, but your thinking is and will always be limited. Evaluation is a process of thinking, of choice. If the mind is content, as it generally is, to remain within an enclosure, wide or narrow, then it is not bothered with any fundamental issue; it has its own reward. But if it would find out whether there is something beyond thought, then all evaluation must cease; the thinking process must come to an end. "But the mind itself is part and parcel of this process of thinking, so by what effort or practice can thought be brought to an end?" Evaluation condemnation, comparison, is the way of thought, and when you ask through what effort or method can the process of thinking be brought to an end, are you not seeking to gain something? This urge to practise a method or to make further effort is the outcome of evaluation, and is still a process of the mind. Neither by the practice of a method nor by any effort whatsoever can thought be brought to an end. Why do we make an effort? "For the very simple reason that if we did not make an effort we would stagnate and die. Everything makes an effort, all nature struggles to survive." Do we struggle just to survive, or do we struggle to survive within a certain psychological or ideological pattern? We want to be something; the urge of ambition, of fulfilment, of fear, shapes our struggle within the pattern of a society which has come about through the collective ambition, fulfilment and fear. We make effort to gain or to avoid. If we were concerned only with survival, then our whole outlook would be fundamentally different. Effort implies choice; choice is comparison, evaluation, condemnation. Thought is made up of these struggles and contradictions; and can such thought free itself from its own self-perpetuating barriers? "Then there must be an outside agency, call it divine grace or what you will, that steps in and puts an end to the self-enclosing ways of the mind. Is this what you are indicating?" How eagerly we want to achieve a satisfying state! If one may point out, sir, are you not concerned with arrival with achievement, with freeing the mind from a particular condition? The mind is caught in the prison of its own making, of its own desires and efforts, and every movement it makes, in any direction, is within the prison; but it is not aware of this, so in its pain and conflict it prays, it seeks an outside agency which will liberate it. It generally finds what it seeks, but what it has found is the outcome of its own movement. The mind is still a prisoner, only in a new prison which is more gratifying and comforting. "But what in the name of heaven is one to do? If every movement of the mind is an extension of its own prison, then all hope must be abandoned." Hope is another movement of thought caught in despair. Hope and despair are words that cripple the mind with their emotional content, with their seemingly opposing and contradictory urges. Is it not possible to stay in the state of despair, or any similar state, without rushing away from it to an opposite idea, or desperately clinging to the state which is called joyous hopeful, and so on? Conflict comes into being when the mind takes flight from the state called misery, pain, into another called hope, happiness. To understand the state in which one is, is not to accept it. Both acceptance and denial are within the area of evaluation. "I am afraid I still do not grasp how thought can come to an end without some kind of action in that direction." All action of will, of desire, of compulsive urge, is born of the mind, the mind that is evaluating, comparing, condemning. If the mind perceives the truth of this, not through argumentation, conviction, or belief, but through being simple and attentive, then thought comes to an end. The ending of thought is not sleep, a weakening of life a state of negation; it is an entirely different state. "Our talk together has shown me that I have not thought very deeply about all this. Though I have read a great deal, I have only assimilated what others have said. I feel that for the first time I am experiencing the state of my own thinking and am perhaps able to listen to something more than mere words." COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES II CHAPTER 53 'ENVY AND LONELINESS' UNDER THE TREE that evening it was very quiet. A lizard was pushing itself up and down on a rock, still warm. The night would be chilly, and the sun would not be up again for many hours. The cattle were weary and slow coming back from the distant fields where they had laboured with their men. A deep-throated owl was hooting from the hilltop which was its home. Every evening about this time it would begin, and as it got darker the hoots would be less frequent; but occasionally, late in the night, you would hear them again. One owl would be calling to another across the valley, and their deep hooting seemed to give greater silence and beauty to the night. It was a lovely evening, and the new moon was setting behind the dark hill. Compassion is not hard to come by when the heart is not filled with the cunning things of the mind. It is the mind with its demands and fears, its attachments and denials, its determinations and urges, that destroys love. And how difficult it is to be simple about all this! You don't need philosophies and doctrines to be gentle and kind. The efficient and the powerful of the land will organize to feed and clothe the people to provide them with shelter and medical care. This is inevitable with the rapid increase of production; it is the function of well organized government and a balanced society. But organization does not give the generosity of the heart and hand. Generosity comes from quite a different source, a source beyond all measure. Ambition and envy destroy it as surely as fire burns. This source must be touched, but one must come to it empty handed, without prayer, without sacrifice. Books cannot teach nor can any guru lead to this source. It cannot be reached through the cultivation of virtue, though virtue is necessary, nor through capacity and obedience. When the mind is serene, without any movement, it is there. Serenity is without motive, without the urge for the more. She was a young lady, but rather weary with pain. It was not the physical pain that bothered her so much, but pain of a different sort. The bodily pain she had been able to control through medication, but the agony of jealousy she had never been able to assuage. It had been with her, she explained, from childhood; at that age it was a childish thing, to be tolerated and smiled upon, but now it had become a disease. She was married and had two children and jealousy was destroying all relationship. "I seem to be jealous, not only of my husband and children, but of almost anyone who has more than I have, a better gardener a prettier dress. All this may seem rather silly, but I am tortured by it. Some time ago I went to a psychoanalyst, and temporarily I was at peace; but it soon began again." Doesn't the culture in which we live encourage envy? The advertisements, the competition the comparison, the worship of success with its many activities - do not all these things sustain envy? The demand for the more is jealousy, is it not? "But..." Let us consider envy itself for a few moments, and not your particular struggles with it; we shall come back to that later. Is this all right? "Most certainly." Envy is encouraged and respected, is it not? The competitive spirit is nourished from childhood. The idea that you must do and be better than another is repeated constantly in different ways; the example of success, the hero and his brave act, are endlessly dinned into the mind. The present culture is based on envy, on acquisitiveness. If you are not acquisitive of worldly things and instead follow some religious teacher, you are promised the right place in the hereafter. We are all brought up on this, and the desire to succeed is deeply embedded in almost everyone. Success is pursued in different ways success as an artist, as a business man, as a religious aspirant. All this is a form of envy, but it is only when envy becomes distressing, painful, that one attempts to get rid of it. As long as it is compensating and pleasurable, envy is an accepted part of one's nature. We don't see that in this very pleasure there is pain. Attachment does give pleasure, but it also breeds jealousy and pain, and it is not love. In this area of activity one lives, suffers, and dies. It is only when the pain of this self-enclosing action becomes unbearable that one struggles to break through it. "I think I vaguely grasp all this, but what am I to do?" Before considering what to do, let us see what the problem is. What is the problem? "I am tortured by jealousy and I want to be free from it." You want to be free from the pain of it; but don't you want to hold on to the peculiar pleasure that comes with possession and attachment? "Of course I do. You don't expect me to renounce all my possessions, do you?" We are not concerned with renunciation, but with the desire to possess. We want to possess people as well as things, we cling to beliefs as well as hopes. Why is there this desire to own things and people, this burning attachment? "I don't know I have never thought about it. It seems natural to be envious, but it has become a poison, a violently disturbing factor in my life." We do need certain things, food, clothing, shelter, and so on, but they are used for psychological satisfaction, which gives rise to many other problems. In the same way, psychological dependence on people breeds anxiety, jealousy and fear. "I suppose in that sense I do depend on certain people. They are a compulsive necessity to me, and without them I would be totally lost. If I did not have my husband and children I think I would go slowly mad, or I would attach myself to somebody else. But I don't see what is wrong with attachment." We are not saying it is right or wrong but are considering its cause and effect, are we not? We are not condemning or justifying dependence. But why is one psychologically dependent on another? Isn't that the problem, and not how to be free from the tortures of jealousy? jealousy is merely the effect, the symptom and it would be useless to deal only with the symptom. Why is one psychologically dependent on another? "I know I am dependent, but I haven't really thought about it. I took it for granted that everyone is dependent on another." Of course we are physically dependent on each other and always will be, which is natural and inevitable. But as long as we do not understand our psychological dependence on another, don't you think the pain of jealousy will continue? So, why is there this psychological need of another? "I need my family because I love them. If I didn't love them I wouldn't care." Are you saying that love and jealousy go together? "So it seems. If I didn't love them, I certainly wouldn't be jealous." In that case, if you are free from jealousy you have also got rid of love, haven't you? Then why do you want to be free from jealousy? You want to keep the pleasure of attachment and let the pain of it go. Is this possible? "Why not?" Attachment implies fear, does it not? You are afraid of what you are, or of what you will be if the other leaves you or dies, and you are attached because of this fear. As long as you are occupied with the pleasure of attachment, fear is hidden, locked away, but unfortunately it is always there; and till you are free from this fear, the tortures of jealousy will go on. "What am I afraid of?" The question is not what you are afraid of, but are you aware that you are afraid? "Now that you are pointedly asking that question I suppose I am. All right, I am afraid." Of what? "Of being lost, insecure; of not being loved, cared for; of being lonely, alone. I think that is it: I am afraid of being lonely, of not being able to face life by myself, so I depend on my husband and children, I desperately hold on to them. There is always in me the fear of something happening to them. Sometimes my desperation takes the form of jealousy, of uncontainable fury, and so on. I am fearful lest my husband should turn to another. I am eaten up with anxiety. I assure you, I have spent many an hour in tears. All this contradiction and turmoil is what we call love, and you are asking me if it is love. Is it love when there is attachment? I see it is not. It is ugly, completely selfish; I am thinking about myself all the time. But what am I tn do?" Condemning, calling yourself hateful, ugly, selfish, in no way diminishes the problem; on the contrary, it increases it. It is important to understand this. Condemnation or justification prevents you from looking at what lies behind fear, it is an active distraction from facing the fact of what is actually happening. When you say, "I am ugly, selfish", these words are loaded with condemnation, and you are strengthening the condemnatory characteristic which is part of the self. "I am not sure I understand this." By condemning or justifying an action of your child, do you understand him? You haven't the time or the inclination to explain, so to get an immediate result you say `do' or `don't; but you haven't understood the complexities of the child. Similarly, condemnation, justification, or comparison prevents the understanding of yourself. You have to understand the complexity which is you. "Yes, yes, I grasp that." Then go into the matter slowly, without condemning or justifying. You will find it quite arduous not to condemn or justify, because for centuries denial and assertion have been habitual. Watch your own reactions as we are talking together. The problem, then, is not jealousy and how to be free of it, but fear. What is fear? How does it come into being? "It is there all right, but what it is I do not know." Fear cannot exist in isolation, it exists only in relation to something, doesn't it? There is a state which you call loneliness, and when you are conscious of that state, fear arises. So fear doesn't exist by itself. What are you actually afraid of? "I suppose of my loneliness, as you say." Why do you suppose? Aren't you sure? "I hesitate to be sure about anything, but loneliness is one of my deepest problems. It has always been there in the background, but it is only now, in this talk, that I am forced to look at it directly, to see that it is there. It is an enormous void, frightening and inescapable." Is it possible to look at that void without giving it a name, without any form of description? Merely labelling a state does not mean that we understand it; on the contrary, it is a hindrance to understanding. "I see what you mean but I cannot help labelling it; it is practically an instantaneous reaction." Feeling and naming are almost simultaneous, are they not? Can they be separated? Can there be a gap between a feeling and the naming of it? If this gap is really experienced, it will be found that the thinker ceases as an entity separate and distinct from thought. The verbalizing process is part of the self, the `me', the entity who is jealous and who attempts to get over his jealousy. If you really understand the truth of this, then fear ceases. Naming has a physiological as well as a psychological effect. When there is no naming, only then is it possible to be fully aware of that which is called the void of loneliness. Then the mind does not separate itself from that which is. "I find it extremely difficult to follow all this, but I feel I have understood at least some of it, and I shall allow that understanding to unfold." COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES II CHAPTER 54 'THE STORM IN THE MIND' ALL DAY THE fog had lasted, and as it cleared towards evening a wind sprang up from the east - a dry, harsh wind, blowing down the dead leaves and drying up the land. It was a tempestuous and menacing night; the wind had increased, the house creaked, and branches were being torn from the trees. The next morning the air was so clear you could almost touch the mountains. The heat had returned with the wind; but as the wind died in the late afternoon, the fog rolled in again from the sea. How extraordinarily beautiful and rich the earth is! There is no tiring of it. The dry river beds are full of living things: gorse, poppies, tall yellow sunflowers. On the boulders there are lizards; a brown and white ringed king snake is sunning itself, its black tongue shooting in and out, and across the ravine a dog is barking, pursuing a gopher or a rabbit. Contentment is never the outcome of fulfilment, of achievement, or of the possession of things; it is not born of action or inaction. It comes with the fullness of what is, not in the alteration of it. That which is full does not need alteration, change. It is the incomplete which is trying to become complete that knows the turmoil of discontent and change. The what is is the incomplete, it is not the complete. The complete is unreal, and the pursuit of the unreal is the pain of discontent which can never be healed. The very attempt to heal that pain is the search for the unreal, from which arises discontent. There is no way out of discontent. To be aware of discontent is to be aware of what is, and in the fullness of it there is a state which may be called contentment. It has no opposite. The house overlooked the valley, and the highest peak of the distant mountains was aglow with the setting sun. Its rocky mass seemed hung from the sky and alight from within, and in the darkening room the beauty of that light was beyond all measure. He was a youngish man, eager and searching. "I have read several books on religion and religious practices, on meditation and the various methods advocated for attaining the highest. I was at one time drawn to Communism, but soon found that it was a retrogressive movement in spite of the many intellectuals who belonged to it. I was also attracted to Catholicism. Some of its doctrines pleased me and for a time I thought of becoming a Catholic; but one day, while talking to a very learned priest, I suddenly perceived how similar Catholicism was to the prison of Communism. During my wanderings as a sailor on a tramp ship I went to India and spent nearly a year there, and I thought of becoming a monk; but that was too withdrawn from life and too idealistically unreal. I tried living alone in order to meditate, but that too came to an end. After all these years I still seem to be utterly incapable of controlling my thoughts, and this is what I want to talk about. Of course I have other problems, sex and so on, but if I were completely the master of my thoughts I could then manage to curb my burning desires and urges." Will the controlling of thought lead to the calming of desire, or merely to its suppression, which will in turn bring other and deeper problems? "You are of course not advocating giving way to desire. Desire is the way of thought, and in my attempts to control thought I had hoped to subjugate my desires. Desires have either to be subjugated or sublimated, but even to sublimate them they must first be held in check. Most of the teachers insist that desires must be transcended, and they prescribe various methods to bring this about." Apart from what others have said, what do you think? Will mere control of desire resolve the many problems of desire? Will suppression or sublimation of desire bring about the understanding of it or free you from it? Through some occupation, religious or otherwise, the mind can be disciplined every hour of the day. But an occupied mind is not a free mind, and surely it is only the free mind that can be aware of timeless creativity. "Is there no freedom in transcending desire?" What do you mean by transcending desire? "For the realization of one's own happiness, and also of the highest, it is necessary not to be driven by desire, not to be caught in its turmoil and confusion. To have desire under control, some form of subjugation is essential. Instead of pursuing the trivial things of life, that very same desire can search out the sublime." You may change the object of desire from a house to knowledge, from the low to the very highest, but it is still the activity of desire, is it not? One may not want worldly recognition, but the urge to attain heaven is still the pursuit of gain. Desire is ever seeking fulfilment, attainment, and it is this movement of desire which must be understood and not driven away or under. Without understanding the ways of desire, mere control of thought has little significance. "But I must come back to the point from which I started. Even to understand desire, concentration is necessary, and that is my whole difficulty. I can't seem to control my thoughts. They wander all over the place tumbling over each other. There is not a single thought that is dominant and continuous among all the irrelevant thoughts." The mind is like a machine that is working night and day, chattering, everlastingly busy whether asleep or awake. It is speedy and as restless as the sea. Another part of this intricate and complex mechanism tries to control the whole movement, and so begins the conflict between opposing desires, urges. One may be called the higher self and the other the lower self, but both are within the area of the mind. The action and reaction of the mind, of thought, are almost simultaneous and almost automatic. This whole conscious and unconscious process of accepting and denying, conforming and striving to be free, is extremely rapid. So the question is not how to control this complex mechanism, for control brings friction and only dissipates energy, but can this very swift mind slow down? "But how?" If it may be pointed out, sir, the issue is not the `how'. The `how' merely produces a result, an end without much significance; and after it is gained, another search for another desirable end will begin, with its misery and conflict. "Then what is one to do?" You are not asking the right question are you? You are not discovering for yourself the truth or falseness of the slowing down of the mind, but you are concerned with getting a result. Getting a result is comparatively easy, isn't it? Is it possible for the mind to slow down without putting on brakes? "What do you mean by slowing down?" When you are going very fast in a car, the nearby landscape is a blur; it is only at a walking speed that you can observe in detail the trees, the birds and the flowers. Self-knowledge comes with the slowing down of the mind, but that doesn't mean forcing the mind to be slow. Compulsion only makes for resistance, and there must be no dissipation of energy in the slowing down of the mind. This is so, isn't it? "I think I am beginning to see that the effort one makes to control thought is wasteful, but I don't understand what else is to be done." We haven't yet come to the question of action, have we? We are trying to see that it is important for the mind to slow down, we are not considering how to slow it down. Can the mind slowdown? And when does this happen? "I don't know, I have never thought of it before." Have you not noticed, sir that while you are watching something the mind slows down? When you watch that car moving along the road down there, or look intently at any physical object, is not your mind functioning more slowly? Watching, observing, does slow down the mind. Looking at a picture, an image, an object, helps to quiet the mind, as does the repetition of a phrase; but then the object or the phrase becomes very important, and not the slowing down of the mind and what is discovered thereby. "I am watching what you are explaining, and there is an awareness of the stillness of the mind." Do we ever really watch anything, or do we interpose between the observer and the observed a screen of various prejudices, values, judgments, comparisons, condemnations? "It is almost impossible not to have this screen. I don't think I am capable of observing in an inviolate manner." If it may be suggested, don't block yourself by words or by a conclusion, positive or negative. Can there be observation without this screen? To put it differently, is there attention when the mind is occupied? It is only the unoccupied mind that can attend. The mind is slow, alert, when there is watchfulness, which is the attention of an unoccupied mind. "I am beginning to experience what you are saying, sir." Let us examine it a little further. If there is no evaluation, no screen between the observer and the observed, is there then a separation, a division between them? Is not the observer the observed? "I am afraid I don't follow." The diamond cannot be separated from its qualities, can it? The feeling of envy cannot be separated from the experiencer of that feeling, though an illusory division does exist which breeds conflict, and in this conflict the mind is caught. When this false separation disappears, there is a possibility of freedom, and only then is the mind still. It is only when the experiencer ceases that there is the creative movement of the real. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES II CHAPTER 55 'CONTROL OF THOUGHT' AT ANY SPEED there was always dust, fine and penetrating, and it poured into the car. Though it was early in the morning and the sun wouldn't be up for an hour or two, there was already a dry, crisp heat which was not too unpleasant. Even at that hour there were bullock carts on the road. The drivers were asleep, but the oxen, keeping to the road, were going slowly back to their village. Sometimes there would be two or three carts, sometimes ten, and once there were twenty five a long line of them with all the drivers asleep and a single kerosene lamp on the leading cart. The car had to go off the road to pass them, raising mountains of dust, and the oxen, their bells ringing rhythmically, never swerved. It was still rather dark after an hour of steady driving. The trees were dark, mysterious and withdrawn. The road was now paved but narrow, and every cart meant more dust, more tinkling of bells, and still more carts ahead. We were going due east, and soon there was the beginning of dawn, opaque, soft and shadowless. It was not a clear dawn, bright with sparkling dew, but one of those mornings which are rather heavy with the coming heat. Yet how beautiful it was! Far away were the mountains; they could not yet be seen, but one felt they were there, immense, cool and time free. The road passed through every kind of village, some clean, orderly and well kept, others filthy and rotting with hopeless poverty and degradation. Men were going off to the fields, women to the well, and the children were shouting and laughing in the streets. There were miles of government farms, with tractors, fish ponds, and experimental agricultural schools. A powerful new car passed by, laden with wealthy, well fed people. The mountains were still far away, and the earth was rich. In several places the road went through a dry river bed where it was no longer a road, but the buses and carts had made a way across. The parrots, green and red, called to each other in their crazy flight; there were also smaller birds, gold and green, and the white ricebirds. Now the road was leaving the plains and beginning to ascend. The thick vegetation in the foothills was being cleared away with bulldozers, and miles of fruit trees were being planted. The car continued to climb as the hills became mountains covered with chestnut and pine trees, the pines slender and straight and the chestnuts heavy with bloom. The view was opening now, measureless valleys stretching away below, and ahead were the snowy peaks. At last we rounded a bend at the summit of the climb, and there stood the mountains, clear and dazzling. They were sixty miles away, with a vast blue valley between them and us. Stretching for over two hundred miles, they filled the horizon from end to end, and with a turn of the head we could see from one end to the other. It was a marvellous sight. The intervening sixty miles seemed to disappear, and there was only that strength and solitude. Those peaks, some of them rising over 25,000 feet, had divine names, for the gods lived there, and men came to them from great distances on pilgrimages, to worship and to die. He had been educated abroad, he said and had held a good position with the government; but over twenty years ago he had made the decision to give up this position and the ways of the world in order to spend the remaining days of his life in meditation. "I practiced various methods of meditation," he went on, "till I had complete control of my thoughts, and this has brought with it certain powers and domination over myself. However, a friend took me to one of your talks in which you answered a question on meditation, saying that as generally practiced meditation was a form of self-hypnosis, a cultivation of self-projected desires, however refined. This struck me as being so true that I sought out this conversation with you; and considering that I have given my life to meditation, I hope we can go into the matter rather deeply. "I would like to begin by explaining somewhat the course of my development. I realized from everything I had read that it was necessary to be completely the master of one's thoughts. This was extremely difficult for me. Concentration on official work was something wholly different from steadying the mind and harnessing the whole process of thought. According to the books, one had to have all the reins of controlled thought in one's hand. Thought could not be sharpened to penetrate into the many illusions unless it was controlled and directed; so that was my first task." If one may ask without breaking into your narration, is control of thought the first task? "I heard what you said in your talk about concentration, but if I may I would like as far as possible to describe my whole experience and then take up certain vital issues connected with it." Just as you like, sir. "From the very beginning I was dissatisfied with my occupation, and it was a comparatively easy matter to drop a promising career. I had read a great many books on meditation and contemplation, including the writings of the various mystics both here and in the West, and it seemed obvious to me that control of thought was the most important thing. This demanded considerable effort, sustained and purposive. As I progressed in meditation I had many experiences, visions of Krishna, of Christ,and of some of the Hindu saints. I became clairvoyant and began to read people's thoughts, and acquired certain other sidhis or powers. I went from experience to experience, from one vision, with its symbolic significance, to another, from despair to the highest form of bliss. I had the pride of a conqueror, of one who was the master of himself. Asceticism, the mastery of oneself, does give a sense of power, and it breeds vanity, strength and self-confidence. I was in the rich fullness of all that. Though I had heard of you for many years, the pride in my achievement had always prevented me from coming to listen to you; but my friend, another sannyasi, insisted that I should come, and what I heard has disturbed me. I had previously thought that I was beyond all disturbance! This briefly has been my history in meditation. "You said in your talk that the mind must go beyond all experience, otherwise it is imprisoned in its own projections, in its own desires and pursuits, and I was deeply surprised to find that my mind was caught up in these very things. Being conscious of this fact, how is the mind to break down the walls of the prison it has built around itself? Have these twenty years and more been wasted? Has it all been a mere wandering in illusion?". What action should take place can presently be talked over, but let us consider, if you will, the control of thought. Is this control necessary? Is it beneficial or harmful? Various religious teachers have advocated the control of thought as the primary step, but are they right? Who is this controller? Is he not part of that very thought which he is trying to control? He may think of himself as being separate, different from thought, but is he not the outcome of thought? Surely control implies the coercive action of will to subjugate, to suppress, to dominate, to build up resistance against what is not desired. In this whole process there is vast and miserable conflict, is there not? Can any good come out of conflict? Concentration in meditation is a form of self-centred improvement, it emphasizes action within the boundaries of the self, the ego, the `me'. Concentration is a process of narrowing down thought. A child is absorbed in its toy. The toy, the image, the symbol, the word, arrests the restless wanderings of the mind, and such absorption is called concentration. The mind is taken over by the image, by the object, external or inward. The image or the object is then all important, and not the understanding of the mind itself. Concentration on something is comparatively easy. The toy does absorb the mind but it does not free the mind to explore, to discover what is, if there is anything, beyond its own frontiers. "What you say is so different from what one has read or been taught, yet it appears to be true and I am beginning to understand the implications of control. But how can the mind be free without discipline?" Suppression and conformity are not the steps that lead to freedom. The first step towards freedom is the understanding of bondage. Discipline does shape behaviour and mould thought to the desired pattern, but without understanding desire, mere control or discipline perverts thought; whereas, when there is an awareness of the ways of desire, that awareness brings clarity and order. After all, sir, concentration is the way of desire. A man of business is concentrated because he wants to amass wealth or power, and when another concentrates in meditation, he also is after achievement, reward. Both are pursuing success, which yields self confidence and the feeling of being secure. This is so, is it not? "I follow what you are explaining, sir." Verbal comprehension alone, which is an intellectual grasp of what is heard, has little value, don't you think? The liberating factor is never a mere verbal comprehension but the perception of the truth or the falseness of the matter. If we can understand the implications of concentration and see the false as the false, then there is freedom from the desire to achieve, to experience, to become. From this comes attention, which is wholly different from concentration. Concentration implies a dual process, a choice, an effort, does it not? There is the maker of effort and the end towards which effort is made. So concentration strengthens the `I', the self, the ego as the maker of effort, the conqueror, the virtuous one. But in attention this dual activity is not present; there is an absence of the experiencer, the one who gathers, stores and repeats. In this state of attention the conflict of achievement and the fear of failure have ceased. "But unfortunately not all of us are blessed with that power of attention." It is not a gift, it is not a reward, a thing to be purchased through discipline, practice, and so on. It comes into being with the understanding of desire, which is self-knowledge. This state of attention is the good, the absence of the self. "Is all my effort and discipline of many years utterly wasted and of no value at all? Even as I ask this question I am beginning to see the truth of the matter. I see now that for over twenty years I have pursued a way that has inevitably led to a self-created prison in which I have lived, experienced and suffered. To weep over the past is self-indulgence and one must begin again with a different spirit. But what about all the visions and experiences? Are they also false, worthless?" Is not the mind, sir, a vast storehouse of all the experiences, visions and thoughts of man? The mind is the result of many thousands of years of tradition and experience. It is capable of fantastic inventions, from the simplest to the most complex. It is capable of extraordinary delusions and of vast perceptions. The experiences and hopes, the anxieties, joys and accumulated knowledge of both the collective and the individual are all there, stored away in the deeper layers of consciousness, and one can relive the inherited or acquired experiences, visions, and so on. We are told of certain drugs that can bring clarity, a vision of the depths and the heights, that can free the mind from its turmoils, giving it great energy and insight. But must the mind travel through all these dark and hidden passages to come to the light? And when through any of these means it does come to the light, is that the light of the eternal? Or is it the light of the known, the recognized, a thing born of search, struggle hope? Must one go through this weary process to find that which is not measurable? Can we bypass all this and come upon that which may be called love? Since you have had visions, powers, experiences, what do you say, sir? "While they lasted I naturally thought they were important and had significance; they gave me a satisfying sense of power, a certain happiness in gratifying achievement. When the various powers come they give one great confidence in oneself, a feeling of self-mastery in which there is an overwhelming pride. Now, after talking all this over, I am not at all sure that these visions, and so on, have such great meaning for me as they once had. They seem to have receded in the light of my own understanding." Must one go through all these experiences? Are they necessary to open the door of the eternal? Can they not be bypassed? After all, what is essential is self-knowledge, which brings about a still mind. A still mind is not the product of will, of discipline, of the various practices to subjugate desire. All these practices and disciplines only strengthen the self, and virtue is then another rock on which the self can build a house of importance and respectability. The mind must be empty of the known for the unknowable to be. Without understanding the ways of the self, virtue begins to clothe itself in importance. The movement of the self, with its will and desire, its searching and accumulation, must wholly cease. Then only the timeless can come into being. It cannot be invited. The mind that seeks to invite the real through various practices, disciplines, through prayers and attitudes, can only receive its own gratifying projections, but they are not the real. "I perceive now, after these many years of asceticism, discipline and self-mortification, that my mind is held in the prison of its own making, and that the walls of this prison must be broken down. How is one to set about it?" The very awareness that they must go is enough. Any action to break them down sets in motion the desire to achieve, to gain, and so brings into being the conflict of the opposites the experiencer and the experience, the seeker and the sought. To see the false as the false is in itself enough, for that very perception frees the mind from the false. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES II CHAPTER 56 'IS THERE PROFOUND THINKING?' FAR BEYOND THE palms was the sea, restless and cruel; it was never calm, but always rough with waves and strong currents. In the silence of the night its roar could be heard some distance inland, and in that deep voice there was a warning, a threat. But here among the palms there were deep shadows and stillness. It was full moon and almost like daylight, without the heat and the glare, and the light on those waving palms was soft and beautiful. The beauty was not only of the moonlight on the palms, but also of the shadows, of the rounded trunks, of the sparkling waters and the rich earth. The earth, the sky, the man walking by, the croaking frogs, and the distant whistle of a train - it was all one living thing not measurable by the mind. The mind is an astonishing instrument; there is no man-made machinery that is so complex, subtle with such infinite possibilities. We are only aware of the superficial levels of the mind, if we are aware at all, and are satisfied to live and have our being on its outer surface. We accept thinking as the activity of the mind: the thinking of the general who plans wholesale murder, of the cunning politician, of the learned professor, of the carpenter. And is there profound thinking? Is not all thinking a surface activity of the mind? In thought, is the mind deep? Can the mind, which is put together, the result of time, of memory, of experience, be aware of something which is not of itself? The mind is always groping, seeking something beyond its own self-enclosing activities, but the centre from which it seeks remains ever the same. The mind is not merely the surface activity, but also the hidden movements of many centuries. These movements modify or control the outer activity so the mind develops its own dualistic conflict. There is not a whole, total mind, it is broken up into many parts, one in opposition to another. The mind that seeks to integrate, coordinate itself, cannot bring peace among its many broken parts. The mind that is made whole by thought, by knowledge, by experience, is still the result of time and sorrow; being put together, it is still a thing of circumstances. We are approaching this problem of integration wrongly. The part can never become the whole. Through the part the whole cannot be realized, but we do not see this. What we do see is the particular enlarging itself to contain the many parts; but the bringing together of many parts does not make for integration, nor is it of great significance when there is harmony between the various parts. It is not harmony or integration that is of importance, for this can be brought about with care and attention, with right education; but what is of the highest importance is to let the unknown come into being. The known can never receive the unknown. The mind is ceaselessly seeking to live happily in the puddle of self-created integration, but this will not bring about the creativity of the unknown. Essentially, self-improvement is but mediocrity. Self-improvement through virtue, through identification with capacity, through any form of positive or negative security, is a self-enclosing process however wide. Ambition breeds mediocrity, for ambition is the fulfilment of the self through action, through the group, through idea. The self is the centre of all that is known, it is the past moving through the present to the future, and all activity in the field of the known makes for shallowness of mind. The mind can never be great, for what is great is immeasurable. The known is comparable, and all the activities of the known can only bring sorrow. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES II CHAPTER 57 'IMMENSITY' THE VALLEY LAY far below and was filled with the activity of most valleys. The sun was just setting behind the distant mountains, and the shadows were dark and long. It was a quiet evening, with a breeze coming off the sea. The orange trees, row upon row, were almost black, and on the long straight road that ran through the valley there were occasional glints as moving cars caught the light of the setting sun. It was an evening of enchantment and peace. The mind seemed to cover the vast space and the unending distance; or rather, the mind seemed to expand without an end, and behind and beyond the mind there was something that held all things in it. The mind vaguely struggled to recognize and remember that which was not of itself, and so it stopped its usual activity; but it could not grasp what was not of its own nature, and presently all things, including the mind were enfolded in that immensity. The evening darkened, and the distant barking of dogs in no way disturbed that which is beyond all consciousness. It cannot be thought about and so experienced by the mind. But what is it, then, that has perceived and is aware of something totally different from the projections of the mind? Who is it that experiences it? Obviously it is not the mind of everyday memories, responses and urges. Is there another mind, or is there a part of the mind which is dormant, to be awakened only by that which is above and beyond all mind? If this is so, then within the mind there is always that which is beyond all thought and time. And yet this cannot be, for it is only speculative thought and therefore another of the many inventions of the mind. Since that immensity is not born of the process of the mind, then what is it that is aware of it? Is the mind as the experiencer aware of it, or is that immensity aware of itself because there is no experiencer at all? There was no experiencer when this happened coming down the mountain, and yet the awareness of the mind was wholly different, in kind as well as in degree, from that which is not measurable. The mind was not functioning; it was alert and passive, and though cognizant of the breeze playing among the leaves, there was no movement of any kind within itself. There was no observer who measured the observed. There was only that, and that was aware of itself without measure. It had no beginning and no word. The mind is aware that it cannot capture by experience and word that which ever abides, timeless and immeasurable. Does Thinking Begin With Conclusions Self-Knowledge Or Self-Hypnosis The Escape From What Is Can One Know What Is Good For The People I Want To Find The Source Of Joy Pleasure, Habit And Austerity Won't You Join Our Animal-Welfare Society Conditioning And The Urge To Be Free The Void Within The Problem Of Search Psychological Revolution There Is No Thinker, Only Conditioned Thinking Why Should It Happen To Us Life, Death And Survival Deterioration Of The Mind The Flame Of Discontent Outward Modification And Inward Disintegration To Change Society You Must Break Away From It Where The Self Is, Love Is Not The Fragmentation Of Man Is Making Him Sick The Vanity Of Knowledge What Is Life All About Without Goodness And Love, One Is Not Educated Hate And Violence The Cultivation Of Sensitivity Why Have I No Insight Reform, Revolution And The Search For God The Noisy Child And The Silent Mind Where There Is Attention, Reality Is Self-Interest Decays The Mind The Importance Of Chance Killing To Be Intelligent Is To Be Simple Confusion And Convictions Attention Without Motive The Voyage On An Uncharted Sea Aloneness Beyond Loneliness Why Did You Dissolve Your Order Of The Star What Is Love Seeking And The State Of Search Why Do The Scriptures Condemn Desire Can Politics Ever Be Spiritualized Awareness And The Cessation Of Dreams What Does It Mean To Be Serious Is There Anything Permanent Why This Urge To Possess Desire And The Pain Of Contradiction What Am I To Do Fragmentary Activities And Total Action Freedom From The Known Time, Habit And Ideals Can God Be Sought Through Organized Religion Asceticism And Total Being The Challenge Of The Present Sorrow From Self-Pity Insensitivity And Resistance To Noise The Quality Of Simplicity COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES III CHAPTER 1 'DOES THINKING BEGIN WITH CONCLUSIONS?' THE HILLS ACROSS the lake were very beautiful, and beyond them rose the snowcovered mountains. It had been raining all day; but now, like an unexpected miracle, the skies had suddenly cleared, and everything became alive, joyous and serene. The flowers were intense in their yellow, red and deep purple, and the raindrops on them were like precious jewels. It was a most lovely evening, full of light and splendour. The people came out into the streets, and along the lake, children were shouting with laughter. Through all this movement and bustle there was enchanting beauty, and a strange, all-pervading peace. There were several of us on the long bench facing the lake. A man was talking in rather a high voice and it was impossible not to overhear what he was saying to a neighbour. "On an evening like this I wish I were far away from this noise and confusion, but my job keeps me here, and I loathe it." People were feeding the swans, the ducks and a few stray seagulls. The swans were pure white and very graceful. There wasn't a ripple on the water now, and the hills across the lake were almost black; but the mountains beyond the hills were aglow with the setting sun, and the vivid clouds behind them seemed passionately alive. "I am not sure I understand you," my visitor began, "when you say that knowledge must be set aside to understand truth." He was an elderly man, much travelled and well-read. He had spent a year or so in a monastery, he explained, and had wandered all over the world, from port to port, working on ships, saving money and gathering knowledge. "I don't mean mere book knowledge," he went on; "I mean the knowledge that men have gathered but have not put down on paper, the mysterious tradition that's beyond scrolls and sacred books. I have dabbled in occultism, but that has always seemed to me rather stupid and superficial. A good microscope is vastly more beneficial than the clairvoyance of a man who sees super-physical things. I have read some of the great historians with their theories and their visions, but... Given a first-rate mind and the capacity to accumulate knowledge, a man should be able to do immense good. I know it isn't the fashion, but I have a sneaking compulsion to reform the world, and knowledge is my passion. I have always been a passionate person in many ways, and now I am consumed with this urge to know. The other day I read something of yours which intrigued me, and when you said that there must be freedom from knowledge, I decided to come and see you - not as a follower, but as an inquirer." To follow another, however learned or noble, is to block all understanding, isn't it? "Then we can talk freely and with mutual respect." If I may ask, what do you mean by knowledge? "Yes, that's a good question to begin with. Knowledge is everything that man has learnt through experience; it is what he has gathered by study, through centuries of struggle and pain, in the many fields of endeavour, both scientific and psychological. As even the greatest historian interprets history according to his learning and mood so an ordinary scholar like me may translate knowledge into action, either `good' or `bad'. Though we are not concerned with action at the moment, it is inevitably related to knowledge, which is what man has experienced or learnt through thought, through meditation, through sorrow. Knowledge is vast; it is not only written down in books, but it exists in the individual as well as in the collective or racial consciousness of man. Scientific and medical information, the technical `know-how' of the material world, is rooted principally in the consciousness of western man, just as in the consciousness of eastern man there is the greater sensitivity of unworldliness. All this is knowledge, embracing not only what is already known, but what is being discovered from day to day. Knowledge is an additive, deathless process, there is no end to it, and it may therefore be the immortal that man is after. So I can't understand why you say that all knowledge must be set aside if there is to be the understanding of truth." The division between knowledge and understanding is artificial, it really doesn't exist; but to be free of this division, which is to perceive the difference between them we must find out what is the highest form of thinking, otherwise there will be confusion. Does thinking begin with a conclusion? Is thinking a movement from one conclusion to another? Can there be thinking, if thinking is positive? Is not the highest form of thinking negative? Is not all knowledge an accumulation of definitions, conclusions and positive assertions? positive thought, which is based on experience, is always the outcome of the past, and such thought can never uncover the new. "You are stating that knowledge is ever in the past, and that thought originating from the past must inevitably cloud the perception of that which may be called truth. However, without the past as memory, we could not recognize this object which we have agreed to call a chair. The word `chair' reflects a conclusion reached by common consent, and all communication would cease if such conclusions were not taken for granted. Most of our thinking is based on conclusions, on traditions, on the experiences of others, and life would be impossible without the more obvious and inevitable of these conclusions. Surely you don't mean that we should put aside all conclusions, all memories and traditions?" The ways of tradition inevitably lead to mediocrity, and a mind caught in tradition cannot perceive what is true. Tradition may be one day old, or it may go back for a thousand years. Obviously it would be absurd for an engineer to set aside the engineering knowledge he has gained through the experience of a thousand others; and if one were to try to set aside the memory of where one lived it would only indicate a neurotic state. But the gathering of facts does not make for the understanding of life. Knowledge is one thing and understanding another. Knowledge does not lead to understanding; but understanding may enrich knowledge, and knowledge may implement understanding. "Knowledge is essential and not to be despised. Without knowledge, modern surgery and a hundred other marvels could not exist." We are not attacking or defending knowledge, but trying to understand the whole problem. Knowledge is only a part of life, not the totality, and when that part assumes all-consuming importance, as it is threatening to do now, then life becomes superficial, a dull routine from which man seeks to escape through every form of diversion and superstition, with disastrous consequences. Mere knowledge, however wide and cunningly put together, will not resolve our human problems; to assume that it will is to invite frustration and misery. Something much more profound is needed. One may know that hate is futile, but to be free of hate is quite another matter. Love is not a question of knowledge. To go back, positive thinking is no thinking at all; it is merely a modified continuity of what has been thought. The outward shape of it may change from time to time, depending on compulsions and pressures, but the core of positive thinking is always tradition. positive thinking is the process of conformity and the mind that conforms can never be in a state of discovery. "But can positive thinking be discarded? Is it not necessary at a certain level of human existence?" Of course, but that's not the whole issue. We are trying to find out if knowledge may become a hindrance to the understanding of truth. Knowledge is essential, for without it we should have to begin all over again in certain areas of our existence. This is fairly simple and clear. But will accumulated knowledge, however vast, help us to understand truth? "What is truth? Is it a common ground to be trodden by all? Or is it a subjective, individual experience?" By whatever name it may be called, truth must ever be new, living; but the words `new' and `living' are used only to convey a state that is not static, not dead, not a fixed point within the mind of man. Truth must be discovered anew from moment to moment, it is not an experience that can be repeated; it has no continuity, it is a timeless state. The division between the many and the one must cease for truth to be. It is not a state to be achieved, nor a point towards which the mind can evolve, grow. If truth is conceived as a thing to be gained, then the cultivation of knowledge and the accumulations of memory become necessary, giving rise to the guru and the follower, the one who knows and the one who does not know. "Then you are against gurus and followers?" It's not a matter of being against something but of perceiving that conformity, which is the desire for security, with its fears, prevents the experiencing of the timeless. "I think I understand what you mean. But is it not immensely difficult to renounce all that one has gathered? Indeed, is it possible?" To give up in order to gain is no renunciation at all. To see the false as the false, to see the true in the false, and to see the true as the true - it is this that sets the mind free. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES III CHAPTER 2 'SELF-KNOWLEDGE OR SELF-HYPNOSIS?' IT HAD RAINED all night and most of the morning, and now the sun was going down behind dark, heavy clouds. There was no colour in the sky, but the perfume of the rain-soaked earth filled the air. The frogs had croaked all night long with persistency and rhythm, but with the dawn they became silent. The tree trunks were dark with the long rain, and the leaves washed clean of the summer's dust, would be rich and green again in a few more days. The lawns too would be greener, the bushes would soon be flowering, and there would be rejoicing. How welcome was the rain after the hot, dusty days! The mountains beyond the hills seemed not too far away and the breeze blowing from them was cool and pure. There would be more work, more food, and starvation would be a thing of the past. One of those large brown eagles was making wide circles in the sky, floating on the breeze without a beat of its wings. Hundreds of people on bicycles were going home after a long day in the office. A few talked as they rode, but most of them were silent and evidently tired out. A large group had stopped, with their bicycles resting against their bodies, and were animatedly discussing some issue, while nearby a policeman wearily watched them, On the corner a big new building was going up. The road was full of brown puddles, and the passing cars splashed one with dirty water which left dark marks on one's clothing. A cyclist stopped, bought from a vendor one cigarette, and was on his way again. A boy came along carrying on his head an old kerosene tin, half-filled with some liquid. He must have been working around that new building which was under construction. He had bright eyes and an extraordinarily cheerful face; he was thin but strongly built, and his skin was very dark, burnt by the sun. He wore a shirt and a loincloth, both the colour of the earth brown with long usage. His head was well-shaped, and there was a certain arrogance in his walk - a boy doing a man's work. As he left the crowd behind he began to sing, and suddenly the whole atmosphere changed. His voice was ordinary, a boyish voice, lusty and raucous; but the song had rhythm, and he would probably have kept time with his hands, had not one hand been holding the kerosene tin on top of his head. He was aware that someone was walking behind him, but was too cheerful to be shy, and he was obviously not in any way concerned with the peculiar change that had come about in the atmosphere. There was a blessing in the air, a love that covered everything, a gentleness that was simple, without calculation, a goodness that was ever flowering. Abruptly the boy stopped singing and turned towards a dilapidated hut that stood some distance back from the road. It would soon be raining again. The visitor said he had held a government position that was good as far as it went, and as he had had a first-class education both at home and abroad, he could have climbed quite high. He was married, he said, and had a couple of children. Life was fairly enjoyable, for success was assured; he owned the house they were living in, and he had put aside money for the education of his children. He knew Sanskrit, and was familiar with the religious tradition. Things were going along pleasantly enough, he said; but one morning he awoke very early, had his bath, and sat down for meditation before his family or the neighbours were up. Though he had had a restful sleep, he couldn't meditate; and suddenly he felt an overwhelming urge to spend the rest of his life in meditation. There was no hesitancy or doubt about it; he would devote his remaining years to finding whatever there was to be found through meditation, and he told his wife, and his two boys, who were at college, that he was going to become a sannyasi. His colleagues were surprised by his decision, but accepted his resignation; and in a few days he had left his home, never to return. That was twenty-five years ago, he went on. He disciplined himself rigorously, but he found it difficult after a life of ease, and it took him a long time to master completely his thoughts and the passions that were in him. Finally, however, he began to have visions of the Buddha, of Christ and Krishna visions whose beauty was enthralling, and for days he would live as if in a trance, ever widening the boundaries of his mind and heart, utterly absorbed in that love which is devotion to the Supreme. Everything about him -the villagers, the animals, the trees, the grass - was intensely alive, brilliant in its vitality and loveliness. It had taken him all these years to touch the hem of the Infinite, he said, and it was amazing that he had survived it all. "I have a number of disciples and followers, as is inevitable in this country," he went on "and one of them suggested to me that I attend a talk which was to be given by you in this town, where I happened to be for a few days. More to please him than to listen to the speaker, I went to the talk, and I was greatly impressed by what was said in reply to a question on meditation. It was stated that without self-knowledge, which in itself is meditation all meditation is a process of self-hypnosis, a projection of one's own thought and desire. I have been thinking about all this, and have now come to talk things over with you. "I see that what you say is perfectly true, and it's a great shock to me to perceive that I have been caught in the images or projections of my own mind. I now realize very profoundly what my meditation has been. For twenty-five years I have been held in a beautiful garden of my own making; the personages, the visions were the outcome of my particular culture and of the things I have desired, studied and absorbed. I now understand the significance of what I have been doing, and I am more than appalled at having wasted so many precious years." We remained silent for some time. "What am I to do now?" he presently continued. "Is there any way out of the prison I have built for myself? I can see that what I have come to in my meditation is a dead-end, though only a few days ago it seemed so full of glorious significance. However much I would like to, I can't go back to all that self-delusion and self-stimulation. I want to tear through these veils of illusion and come upon that which is not put together by the mind. You have no idea what I have been through during the last two days! The structure which I had so carefully and painfully built up over a period of twenty-five years has no meaning any more, and it seems to me that I shall have to start all over again. From where am I to start?" May it not be that there is no restarting at all, but only the perception of the false as the false which is the beginning of understanding? If one were to start again, one might be caught in another illusion, perhaps in a different manner. What blinds us is the desire to achieve an end, a result; but if we perceived that the result we desire is still within the self-centred field, then there would be no thought of achievement. Seeing the false as the false, and the true as the true, is wisdom. "But do I really see that what I have been doing for the last twenty-five years is false? Am I aware of all the implications of what I have regarded as meditation?" The craving for experience is the beginning of illusion. As you now realize, your visions were but the projections of your background, of your conditioning, and it is these projections that you have experienced. Surely this is not meditation. The beginning of meditation is the un- derstanding of the background, of the self, and without this understanding, what is called meditation, however pleasurable or painful, is merely a form of self-hypnosis. You have practised self-control, mastered thought, and concentrated on the furthering of experience. This is a self-centred occupation, it is not meditation; and to perceive that it is not meditation is the beginning of meditation. To see the truth in the false sets the mind free from the false. Freedom from the false does not come about through the desire to achieve it; it comes when the mind is no longer concerned with success with the attainment of an end. There must be the cessation of all search, and only then is there a possibility of the coming into being of that which is nameless. "I do not want to deceive myself again." Self-deception exists when there is any form of craving or attachment: attachment to a prejudice, to an experience, to a system of thought. Consciously or unconsciously, the experiencer is always seeking greater, deeper, wider experience; and as long as the experiencer exists, there must be delusion in one form or another. "All this involves time and patience, doesn't it?" Time and patience may be necessary for the achievement of a goal. An ambitious man, worldly or otherwise, needs time to gain his end. Mind is the product of time, as all thought is its result; and thought working to free itself from time only strengthens its enslavement to time. Time exists only when there is a psychological gap between what is and what should be, which is called the ideal, the end. To be aware of the falseness of this whole manner of thinking is to be free from it - which does not demand any effort, any practice. Understanding is immediate, it is not of time. "The meditation I have indulged in can have meaning only when it is seen to be false, and I think I see it to be false. But..." Please don't ask the inevitable question as to what there will be in its place, and so on. When the false has dropped away, there is freedom for that which is not false to come into being. You cannot seek the true through the false; the false is not a steppingstone to the true. The false must cease wholly, not in comparison to the true. There is no comparison between the false and the true; violence and love cannot be compared. Violence must cease for love to be. The cessation of violence is not a matter of time. The perception of the false as the false is the ending of the false. Let the mind be empty, and not filled with the things of the mind. Then there is only meditation, and not a meditator who is meditating. "I have been occupied with the meditator, the seeker, the enjoyer, the experiencer, which is myself. I have lived in a pleasant garden of my own creation, and have been a prisoner therein. I now see the falseness of all that - dimly, but I see it." COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES III CHAPTER 3 'THE ESCAPE FROM WHAT IS' IT WAS A RATHER nice garden, with open, green lawns and flowering bushes, completely enclosed by wide-spreading trees. There was a road running along one side of it, and one often overheard loud talk, especially in the evenings, when people were making their way home. Otherwise it was very quiet in the garden. The grass was watered morning and evening, and at both times there were a great many birds running up and down the lawn in search of worms. They were so eager in their search, that they would come quite close without any fear when one remained seated under a tree. Two birds, green and gold, with square tails and a long, delicate feather sticking out, came regularly to perch among the rose - bushes. They were exactly the same colour as the tender leaves and it was almost impossible to see them. They had flat heads and long, narrow eyes, with dark beaks. They would swoop in a curve close to the ground, catch an insect, and return to the swaying branch of a rosebush. It was a most lovely sight, full of freedom and beauty. One couldn't get near them, they were too shy; but if one sat under the tree without moving too much, one would see them disporting themselves, with the sun on their transparent golden wings. Often a big mongoose would emerge from the thick bushes, its red nose high in the air and its sharp eyes watching every movement around it. The first day it seemed very disturbed to see a person sitting under the tree, but it soon got used to the human presence. It would cross the whole length of the garden, unhurriedly, its long tail flat on the ground. Sometimes it would go along the edge of the lawn, close to the bushes, and then it would be much more alert, its nose vibrant and twitching. Once the whole family came out the big mongoose leading, followed by his smaller wife, and behind her, two little ones, all in a line. The babies stopped once or twice to play; but when the mother, feeling that they weren't immediately behind her, turned her head sharply, they raced forward and fell in line again. In the moonlight the garden became an enchanted place, the motionless, silent trees casting long, dark shadows across the lawn and among the still bushes. After a great deal of bustle and chatter, the birds had settled down for the night in the dark foliage. There was now hardly anyone on the road, but occasionally one would hear a song in the distance, or the notes of a flute being played by someone on his way to the village. Otherwise the garden was very quiet, full of soft whispers. Not a leaf stirred, and the trees gave shape to the hazy, silver sky. Imagination has no place in meditation; it must be completely set aside, for the mind caught in imagination can only breed delusions. The mind must be clear, without movement, and in the light of that clarity the timeless is revealed. He was a very old man with a white beard, and his lean body was scarcely covered by the saffron robe of a sannyasi. He was gentle in manner and speech, but his eyes were full of sorrow - the sorrow of vain search. At the age of fifteen he had left his family and renounced the world, and for many years he had wandered all over India visiting ashramas, studying, meditating, endlessly searching. He had lived for a time at the ashrama of the religious- political leader who had worked so strenuously for the freedom of India and had stayed at another in the south, where the chanting was pleasant. In the hall where a saint lived silently, he too, amongst many others, had remained silently searching. There were ashramas on the east coast and on the west coast where he had stayed, probing, questioning discussing. In the far north, among the snows and in the cold caves, he had also been; and he had meditated by the gurgling waters of the sacred river. Living among the ascetics, he had physically suffered, and he had made long pilgrimages to sacred temples. He was well versed in Sanskrit, and it had delighted him to chant as he walked from place to place. "I have searched for God in every possible way from the age of fifteen, but I have not found Him, and now I am past seventy. I have come to you as I have gone to others, hoping to find God. I must find Him before I die - unless, indeed, He is just another of the many myths of man." If one may ask, sir, do you think that the immeasurable can be found by searching for it? By following different paths, through discipline and self-torture, through sacrifice and dedicated service, will the seeker come upon the eternal? Surely, sir, whether the eternal exists or not is unimportant, and the truth of it may be uncovered later; but what is important is to understand why we seek, and what it is that we are seeking. Why do we seek? "I seek because, without God, life has very little meaning. I seek Him out of sorrow and pain. I seek Him because I want peace. I seek Him because He is the permanent the changeless; because there is death, and He is deathless. He is order, beauty and goodness, and for this reason I seek Him." That is, being in agony over the impermanent we hopefully pursue what we call the permanent. The motive of our search is to find comfort in the ideal of the permanent, and this ideal is born of impermanency, it has grown out of the pain of constant change. The ideal is unreal, whereas the pain is real; but we do not seem to understand the fact of pain, and so we cling to the ideal, to the hope of painlessness. Thus there is born in us the dual state of fact and ideal, with its endless conflict between what is and what should be. The motive of our search is to escape from impermanency, from sorrow, into what the mind thinks is the state of permanency, of everlasting bliss. But that very thought is impermanent, for it is born of sorrow. The opposite, however exalted, holds the seed of its own opposite. Our search, then, is merely the urge to escape from what is. "Do you mean to say that we must cease to search?" If we give our undivided attention to the understanding of what is, then search, as we know it, may not be necessary at all. When the mind is free from sorrow, what need is there to search for happiness? "Can the mind ever be free from sorrow?" To conclude that it can or that it cannot be free is to put an end to all inquiry and understanding. We must give our complete attention to the understanding of sorrow and we cannot do this if we are trying to escape from sorrow, or if our minds are occupied in seeking the cause of it. There must be total attention, and not oblique concern. When the mind is no longer seeking, no longer breeding conflict through its wants and cravings, when it is silent with understanding, only then can the immeasurable come into being. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES III CHAPTER 4 'CAN ONE KNOW WHAT IS GOOD FOR THE PEOPLE?' THERE WERE SEVERAL of us in the room. Two had been in prison for many years for political reasons; they had suffered and sacrificed in gaining freedom for the country, and were well-known. Their names were often in the papers, and while they were modest that peculiar arrogance of achievement and fame was still in their eyes. They were well-read, and they spoke with the facility that comes from public speaking. Another was a politician, a big man with a sharp glance, who was full of schemes and had an eye on self-advancement. He too had been in prison for the same reason, but now he was in a position of power, and his look was assured and purposeful; he could manipulate ideas and men. There was another who had renounced worldly possessions, and who hungered for the power to do good. Very learned and full of apt quotations, he had a smile that was genuinely kind and pleasant, and he was currently travelling all over the country talking, persuading, and fasting. There were three or four others who also aspired to climb the political or spiritual ladder of recognition or humility. "I cannot understand," one of them began, "why you are so much against action. Living is action; without action, life is a process of stagnation. We need dedicated people of action to change the social and religious conditions of this unfortunate country. Surely you are not against reform: the landed people voluntarily giving some of their land to the landless, the educating of the villager, the improving of the village, the breaking up of caste divisions, and so on." Reform, however necessary, only breeds the need for further reform, and there is no end to it. What is essential is a revolution in man's thinking, not patchwork reform. Without a fundamental change in the mind and heart of man, reform merely puts him to sleep by helping him to be further satisfied. This is fairly obvious, isn't it? "You mean that we must have no reforms?" another asked, with an intensity that was surprising. "I think you are misunderstanding him," explained one of the older men."He means that reform will never bring about the total transformation of man. In fact, reform impedes that total transformation, because it puts man to sleep by giving him temporary satisfaction. By multiplying these gratifying reforms, you will slowly drug your neighbour into contentment." "But if we strictly limit ourselves to one essential reform - the voluntary giving of land to the landless, let's say - until it is brought about, will that not be beneficial?" Can you separate one part from the whole field of existence? Can you put a fence around it, concentrate upon it, without affecting the rest of the field? "To affect the whole field of existence is exactly what we plan to do. When we have achieved one reform, we shall turn to another." Is the totality of life to be understood through the part? Or is it that the whole must first be perceived and understood, and that only then the parts can be examined and reshaped in relation to the whole? Without comprehending the whole, mere concentration on the part only breeds further confusion and misery. "Do you mean to say," demanded the intense one, "that we must not act or bring about reforms without first studying the whole process of existence?" "That's absurd, of course," put in the politician. "We simply haven't time to search out the full meaning of life. That will have to be left to the dreamers, to the gurus, to the philosophers. We have to deal with everyday existence; we have to act, we have to legislate, we have to govern and bring order out of chaos. We are concerned with dams, with irrigation, with better agriculture; we are occupied with trade, with economics, and we must deal with foreign powers. It is sufficient for us if we can manage to carry on from day to day without some major calamity taking place. We are practical men in positions of responsibility, and we have to act to the best of our ability for the good of the people." If it may be asked, how do you know what's good for the people? You assume so much. You start with so many conclusions; and when you start with a conclusion, whether your own or that of another, all thinking ceases. The calm assumption that you know, and that the other does not, leads to greater misery than the misery of having only one meal a day; for it is the vanity of conclusions that brings about the exploitation of man. In our eagerness to act for the good of others, we seem to do a great deal of harm. "Some of us think we really do know what's good for the country and its people," explained the politician. "Of course, the opposition also thinks it knows; but the opposition is not very strong in this country, fortunately for us, so we shall win and be in a position to try out what we think is good and beneficial." Every party knows, or thinks it knows, what's good for the people. But what is truly good will not create antagonism, either at home or abroad; it will bring about unity between man and man; what is truly good will be concerned with the totality of man, and not with some superficial benefit that may lead only to greater calamity and misery; it will put an end to the division and the enmity that nationalism and organized religions have created. And is the good so easily found? "If we have to take into consideration all the implications of what is good, we shall get nowhere; we shall not be able to act. Immediate necessities demand immediate action, though that action may bring marginal confusion," replied the politician. "We just haven't time to ponder, to philosophize. Some of us are busy from early in the morning till late at night, and we can't sit back to consider the full meaning of each and every action that we must take. We literally cannot afford the pleasure of deep consideration, and we leave that pleasure to others." "Sir, you appear to be suggesting," said one of those who had thus far remained silent, "that before we perform what we assume to be a good act, we should think out fully the significance of that act, since, even though seemingly beneficial, such an act may produce greater misery in the future. But is it possible to have such profound insight into our own actions? At the moment of action we may think we have that insight, but later on we may discover our blindness." At the moment of action we are enthusiastic, impetuous, we are carried away by an idea, or by the personality and the fire of a leader. All leaders, from the most brutal tyrant to the most religious politician, state that they are acting for the good of man, and they all lead to the grave; but nevertheless we succumb to their influence, and follow them. Haven't you, sir, been influenced by such a leader? He may no longer be living, but you still think and act according to his sanctions, his formulas, his pattern of life; or else you are influenced by a more recent leader. So we go from one leader to another, dropping them when it suits our convenience, or when a better leader turns up with greater promise of some `good'. In our enthusiasm we bring others into the net of our convictions, and they often remain in that net when we ourselves have moved on to other leaders and other convictions. But what is good is free of influence, compulsion and convenience and any act which is not good in this sense is bound to breed confusion and misery. "I think we can all plead guilty to being influenced by a leader, directly or indirectly," acquiesced the last speaker, "but our problem is this. Realizing that we receive many benefits from society and give very little in return, and seeing so much misery everywhere, we feel that we have a responsibility towards society, that we must do something to relieve this unending misery. Most of us, however, feel rather lost, and so we follow someone with a strong personality. His dedicated life, his obvious sincerity, his vital thoughts and acts, influence us greatly, and in various ways we become his followers; under his influence we are soon caught up in action, whether it be for the liberation of the country, or for the betterment of social conditions. The acceptance of authority is ingrained in us, and from this acceptance of authority flows action. What you are telling us is so contrary to all we are accustomed to that it leaves us no measure by which to judge and to act. I hope you see our difficulty." Surely, sir, any act based on the authority of a book, however sacred, or on the authority of a person, however noble and saintly, is a thoughtless act which must inevitably bring confusion and sorrow. In this and other countries the leader derives his authority from the interpretation of the so-called sacred books, which he liberally quotes, or from his own experiences, which are conditioned by the past, or from his austere life, which again is based on the pattern of saintly records. So the leader's life is as bound by authority as the life of the follower; both are slaves to the book, and to the experience or knowledge of another. With this background, you want to remake the world. Is that possible? Or must you put aside this whole authoritarian, hierarchical outlook on life, and approach the many problems with a fresh, eager mind? Living and action are not separate, they are an interrelated, unitary process; but now you have separated them, have you not? You regard daily living, with its thoughts and acts, as different from the action which is going to change the world. "Again, this is so," went on the last speaker. "But how are we to throw off this yoke of authority and tradition, which we have willingly and happily accepted from childhood? It is part of our immemorial tradition, and you come along and tell us to set it all aside and rely on ourselves! From what I have heard and read, you say that the very Atman itself is without permanency. So you can see why we are confused." May it not be that you have never really inquired into the authoritarian way of existence? The very questioning of authority is the end of authority. There is no method or system by which the mind can be set free from authority and tradition; if there were, then the system would become the dominating factor. Why do you accept authority, in the deeper sense of that word? You accept authority, as the guru also does, in order to be safe, to be certain, in order to be comforted, to succeed, to reach the other shore. You and the guru are worshippers of success; you are both driven by ambition. Where there is ambition, there is no love; and action without love has no meaning. "Intellectually I see that what you say is true, but inwardly, emotionally, I don't feel the authenticity of it." There is no intellectual understanding; either we understand, or we don't. This dividing of ourselves into watertight compartments is another of our absurdities. It is better to admit to ourselves that we do not understand, than to maintain that there is an intellectual understanding, which only breeds arrogance and self-imposed conflict. "We have taken too much of your time, but perhaps you will allow us to come again." COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES III CHAPTER 5"I WANT TO FIND THE SOURCE OF JOY" THE SUN WAS behind the hills, the town was afire with the evening glow, and the sky was full of light and splendour. In the lingering twilight, the children were shouting and playing; there was still plenty of time before their dinner. A discordant temple bell was ringing in the distance, and from the nearby mosque a voice was calling for evening prayers. The parrots were coming back from the outlying woods and fields to the dense trees with their heavy foliage, all along the road. They were making an awful noise before settling down for the night. The crows joined them, with their raucous calling and there were other birds, all scolding and noisy. It was a secluded part of the town, and the sound of the traffic was drowned by the loud chatter of the birds; but with the coming of darkness they became quieter, and within a few minutes they were silent and ready for the night. A man came along with what looked like a thick rope around his neck. He was holding one end of it. A group of people were chatting and laughing under a tree, where there were patches of light from an electric lamp above; and the man, walking up to the group, put his rope on the ground. There were frightened screams as everyone started running; for the `rope' was a big cobra, hissing and swaying its hood. Laughing, the man pushed it with his naked toes, and presently picked it up again, holding it just behind the head. Of course, its fangs had been removed; it was really harmless, but frightening. The man offered to put the snake around my neck, but he was satisfied when I stroked it. It was scaly and cold, with strong rippling muscles, and eyes that were black and staring - for snakes have no eyelids. We walked a few steps together, and the cobra around his neck was never still, but all movement. The street-lights made the stars seem dim and far away, but Mars was red and clear. A beggar was walking along with slow, weary steps, hardly moving; he was covered with rags, and his feet were wrapped in torn pieces of canvas, tied together with heavy string. He had a long stick, and was muttering to himself, and he did not look up as we passed. Further along the street there was a smart and expensive hotel, with cars of almost every make drawn up in front of it. A young professor from one of the universities, rather nervous and with a high-pitched voice and bright eyes, said that he had come a long way to ask a question which was most important to him. "I have known various joys: the joy of conjugal love, the joy of health, of interest, and of good companionship. Being a professor of literature, I have read widely, and delight in books. But I have found that every joy is fleeting in nature; from the smallest to the greatest, they all pass away in time. Nothing I touch seems to have any permanency, and even literature, the greatest love of my life, is beginning to lose its perennial joy. I feel there must be a permanent source of all joy, but though I have sought for it intensely, I have not found it." Search is an extraordinarily deceptive phenomenon is it not? Being dissatisfied with the present, we seek something beyond it. Aching with the present, we probe into the future or the past; and even that which we find is consumed in the present. We never stop to inquire into the full content of the present, but are always pursuing the dreams of the future; or from among the dead memories of the past we select the richest, and give life to it. We cling to that which has been, or reject it in the light of tomorrow, and so the present is slurred over; it is merely a passage to be gone through as quickly as possible. "Whether it's in the past or in the future, I want to find the source of joy," he went on. "You know what I mean, sir. I no longer seek the objects from which joy is derived - ideas, books, people, nature - but the source of joy itself, beyond all transiency. If one doesn't find that source, one is everlastingly caught in the sorrow of the impermanent." Don't you think, sir, that we must understand the significance of that word `search'? Otherwise we shall be talking at cross purposes. Why is there this urge to seek, this anxiety to find, this compulsion to attain? perhaps if we can uncover the motive and see its implications, we shall be able to understand the significance of search. "My motive is simple and direct: I want to find the permanent source of joy, for every joy I have known has been a passing thing. The urge that is making me seek is the misery of not having anything enduring. I want to get away from this sorrow of uncertainty, and I don't think there's anything abnormal about it. Anyone who is at all thoughtful must be seeking the joy I am seeking. Others may call it by a different name - God, truth, bliss, freedom, Moksha, and so on - but it's essentially the same thing." Being caught in the pain of impermanency, the mind is driven to seek the permanent, under whatever name; and its very craving for the permanent creates the permanent, which is the opposite of what is. So really there is no search, but only the desire to find the comforting satisfaction of the permanent. When the mind becomes aware of being in a constant state of flux, it proceeds to build the opposite of that state, thereby getting caught in the conflict of duality; and then, wanting to escape from this conflict, it pursues still another opposite. So the mind is bound to the wheel of opposites. "I am aware of this reactionary process of the mind, as you explain it; but should one not seek at all? Life would be a pretty poor thing if there were no discovering." Do we discover anything new through search? The new is not the opposite of the old, it is not the antithesis of what is. If the new is a projection of the old, then it is only a modified continuation of the old. All recognition is based on the past, and what is recognizable is not the new. Search arises from the pain of the present, therefore what is sought is already known. You are seeking comfort, and probably you will find it; but that also will be transient, for the very urge to find is impermanent. All desire for something - for joy for God, or whatever it be - is transient. "Do I understand you to mean that, since my search is the outcome of desire, and desire is transient, therefore my search is in vain?" If you realize the truth of this, then transience itself is joy. "How am I to realize the truth of it?" There is no `how', no method. The method breeds the idea of the permanent. As long as the mind desires to arrive, to gain, to attain it will be in conflict. Conflict is insensitivity. It is only the sensitive mind that realizes the true. Search is born of conflict, and with the cessation of conflict there is no need to seek. Then there is bliss. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES III CHAPTER 6 'PLEASURE, HABIT AND AUSTERITY' THE ROAD LED south of the noisy, sprawling town, with its seemingly endless rows of new buildings. The road was crowded with buses, cars and bullock carts, and with hundreds of cyclists who were going home from their offices, looking worn out after a long day of routine work which held no interest for them. Many stopped at an open market on the roadside to buy wilted vegetables. As we went through the outskirts of the town, there were rich green trees on both sides of the road, recently washed by the heavy rains. The sun was setting to our right, a huge golden ball above the distant hills. There were many goats among the trees, and the kids were chasing each other. The curving road went past an eleventh-century tower, standing red and lofty amidst Hindu and Mogul ruins. Dotted about here and there were ancient tombs, and a splendid, ruined archway told of a glory that was long ago. The car was stopped, and we walked along the road. A group of peasants were returning from their work in the fields; all were women, and after a long day of toil, they were singing a lilting song. In that peaceful countryside their voices rang out, clear, resonant and gay. As we approached, they shyly stopped singing, but continued with their song as soon as we had passed. The evening light was among the gently rolling hills, and the trees were dark against the evening sky. On a huge jutting rock stood the crumbling battlements of an ancient fortress. There was an astonishing beauty covering the land; it was all about us, filling every nook and corner of the earth, and the dark recesses of our hearts and minds. There is only love, not the love of God and the love of man; it is not to be divided. A big owl flew silently across the moon and a group of the educated villagers were talking loudly, debating whether or not to go to the cinema in the town; they were rowdy, and aggressively occupied half of the road. It was pleasant in the soft moonlight, and the shadows on the ground were clear and sharp. A lorry came rattling along the road, blowing its threatening horn; but it soon passed, leaving the countryside to the loveliness of the evening, and to the immense solitude. He was a healthy and thoughtful young man, still in his thirties, and was employed in some government office. He was not too averse to his work, he explained, and everything considered, had a fairly good salary and a promising future. He was married and had a son of four whom he had wanted to bring along, but the boy's mother had insisted that he would be a nuisance. "I attended one or two of your talks," he said, "and, if I may, I would like to ask a question. I have got into certain bad habits which are bothering me, and which I want to be free of. For several months now I have tried to get rid of them, but without success. What am I to do?" Let us consider habit itself, and not divide it into good and bad. The cultivation of habit, however good and respectable, only makes the mind dull. What do we mean by habit? Let us think it out, and not depend on mere definition. "Habit is an oft-repeated act." It is a momentum of action in a certain direction, whether pleasant or unpleasant, and it may operate consciously or unconsciously, with thought, or thoughtlessly. Is that it? "Yes, sir, that's right." Some feel the need of coffee in the morning, and without it they get a headache. The body may not have required it at first, but it has gradually got used to the pleasurable taste and stimulation of coffee, and now it suffers when deprived of it. "But is coffee a necessity?" What do you mean by a necessity? "Good food is necessary to good health." Surely; but the tongue becomes accustomed to food of a certain kind or flavour, and then the body feels deprived and anxious when it does not get what it's used to. This insistence on food of a particular kind indicates - does it not? - that a habit has been formed, a habit based on pleasure and the memory of it. "But how can one break a pleasurable habit? To break an unpleasant habit is comparatively easy, but my problem is how to break the pleasant ones." As I said, we aren't considering pleasant and unpleasant habits, or how to break away from either of them, but we are trying to understand habit itself. We see that habit is formed when there is pleasure and the demand for the continuation of the pleasure. Habit is based on pleasure and the memory of it. An initially unpleasant experience may gradually become a pleasant and `necessary' habit. Now, let's go a little further into the matter. What is your problem? "Amongst other habits, sexual indulgence has become a powerful and consuming habit with me. I have tried to bring it under control by disciplining myself against it, by dieting, practising various exercises, and so on, but in spite of all my resistance the habit has continued." Perhaps there is no other release in your life, no other driving interest. Probably you are bored with your work, without being aware of it; and religion for you may be only a repetitious ritual, a set of dogmas and beliefs without any meaning at all. If you are inwardly thwarted, frustrated, then sex becomes your only release. To be inwardly alert to think anew about your work, about the absurdities of society, to find out for yourself the true significance of religion - it is this that will free the mind from being enslaved by any habit. "I used to be interested in religion and in literature, but I have no leisure for either of them now, because all my time is taken up with my work. I am not really unhappy in it, but I realize that earning a livelihood isn't everything, and it may be that, as you say, if I can find time for wider and deeper interests, it will help to break down the habit which is bothering me." As we said, habit is the repetition of a pleasurable act brought about by the stimulating memories and images which the mind evokes. The glandular secretions and their results, as in the case of hunger, are not a habit, they are the normal process of the physical organism; but when the mind indulges in sensation, stimulated by thoughts and pictures, then surely the formation of habit is set going. Food is necessary, but the demand for a particular taste in food is based on habit. Finding pleasure in certain thoughts and acts, subtle or crude, the mind insists on their continuance thereby breeding habit. A repetitive act, like brushing one's teeth in the morning, becomes a habit when attention is not given to it. Attention frees the mind from habit. "Are you implying that we must get rid of all pleasure?" No, sir. We are not trying to get rid of anything, or to acquire anything; we are trying to understand the full implication of habit; and we have to understand, too, the problems of pleasure. Many sannyasis, yogis, saints, have denied themselves pleasure; they have tortured themselves and forced the mind to resist, to be insensitive to pleasure in every form. It is a pleasure to see the beauty of a tree, of a cloud, of moonlight on the water, or of a human being; and to deny that pleasure is to deny beauty. On the other hand, there are people who reject the ugly and cling to the beautiful. They want to remain in the lovely garden of their own making, and shut out the noise, the smell and the brutality that exist beyond the wall. Very often they succeed in this; but you cannot shut out the ugly and hold to the beautiful without becoming dull, insensitive. You must be sensitive to sorrow as well as to joy and not eschew the one and seek out the other. Life is both death and love. To love is to be vulnerable, sensitive, and habit breeds insensitivity; it destroys love. "I am beginning to feel the beauty of what you are saying. It is true that I have made myself dull and stupid. I used to love to go into the woods, to listen to the birds, to observe the faces of people in the streets, and I now see what I have allowed habit to do to me. But what is love?" Love is not mere pleasure, a thing of memory; it's a state of intense vulnerability and beauty, which is denied when the mind builds walls of self-centred activity. Love is life, and so it is also death. To deny death and cling to life is to deny love. "I am really beginning to have an insight into all this, and into myself. Without love, life does become mechanical and habit-ridden. The work I do in the office is largely mechanical, and so indeed is the rest of my life; I am caught in a vast wheel of routine and boredom. I have been asleep, and now I must wake up." The very realization that you have been asleep is already an awakened state; there is no need of volition. Now, let's go a little further into the matter. There is no beauty without austerity, is there? "That I don't understand, sir." Austerity does not lie in any outward symbol or act: wearing a loincloth or a monk's robe, taking only one meal a day, or living the life of a hermit. Such disciplined simplicity, however rigorous, is not austerity; it is merely an outward show without an inner reality. Austerity is the simplicity of inward aloneness, the simplicity of a mind that is purged of all conflict, that is not caught in the fire of desire, even the desire for the highest. Without this austerity, there can be no love; and beauty is of love. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES III CHAPTER 7"WON'T YOU JOIN OUR ANIMAL-WELFARE SOCIETY?" THE SUN WAS very clear in the sky, and there was a cool breeze from the sea. It was still fairly early in the morning; there were but few people in the streets and the heavy traffic had not yet begun. Fortunately, it wasn't going to be too hot a day; but there was dust everywhere, fine and penetrating, for there had been no rain during the long, hot summer. In the small, well-kept park, dust lay heavily on the trees; but under the trees, and among the bushes, there was a stream of cool, fresh water, brought down from a lake in the distant mountains. On a bench by the stream it was pleasant and peaceful, and there was plenty of shade. Later in the day, the park would be crowded with children and their nurses and with people who worked in offices. The sound of running water among the bushes was friendly and welcoming, and many birds fluttered on the edge of the stream, bathing and chirping happily. Big peacocks wandered in and out of the bushes, stately and unafraid. In deep pools of clear water there were large goldfish and the children came every day to watch and feed them, and to take delight in the many white geese which swam about in a shallow pool. Leaving the little park, we drove along a noisy, dusty road to the foot of a rocky hill, and walked up a steep path to an entrance which opened into the sacred precincts of an ancient temple. To the west could be seen an expanse of the blue sea, famous for its historic naval battle, and to the east were the low-lying hills, barren and harsh in the autumnal air, but full of silent and happy memories. To the north towered the higher mountains, overlooking the hills and the hot valley. The ancient temple on the rocky hill stood in ruins, destroyed by the brutal violence of man. Its broken marble columns, washed by the rains of many centuries, seemed almost transparent - light fading, and stately. The temple was still a perfect thing, to be touched and silently gazed upon. A small yellow flower, bright in the morning light, grew in a crevice at the foot of a splendid column. To sit in the shadow of one of those columns, looking at the silent hills and the distant sea, was to experience something beyond the calculations of the mind. One morning, climbing the rocky hill, we found a large crowd around the temple. There were huge camera booms, reflectors and other paraphernalia, all bearing the trade-mark of a well-known cinema company, and green, canvas-back chairs with names printed upon them. Electric cables were lying about on the ground, directors and technicians were shouting at each other, and the principal actors were preening themselves and being fussed over by the dressers. Two men, wearing the robes of orthodox priests, were waiting for their call, and gaily-dressed women were chatting and giggling. They were shooting a picture! We sat in a small room, and through an open window the green lawn, sparkling in the morning sun, threw a soft, green light on the white ceiling. Wearing expensive jewels, well-made sandals with high heels, and a sari that must have cost a good bit of money, she explained that she was one of the chief workers in an organization dedicated to animal welfare. Man was appallingly cruel to animals, beating them, twisting their tails, goading them with sticks that had a nail at the end, and otherwise perpetrating upon them unspeakable horrors. They must be protected by legislation, and to this end, public opinion, which is so indifferent, must be aroused through propaganda, and so on. "I have come to ask if you will help in this important work. Other prominent public figures have come forward to offer their help, and it would be fitting if you also joined us." Do you mean that I should join your society? "It would be a great help if you did. Will you?" Do you think that organizations against the cruelty of man will bring love into being? Through legislation, can you bring about the brotherhood of man? "If we don't work for what is good, how else can it be brought about? The good doesn't come into being through our withdrawal from society; on the contrary, we must all work together, from the greatest to the least among us, to bring it about." Of course we must work together, that is most natural; but cooperation isn't a matter of following a blueprint laid down by the State, by the leader of a party or a group, or by any other authority. To work together through fear or through greed for reward is not cooperation. Cooperation comes naturally and easily when we love what we are doing; and then cooperation is a delight. But to love, there must first be the putting aside of ambition, greed and envy. Isn't this so? "To put aside personal ambition will take centuries, and in the meantime the poor animals suffer." There is no meantime, there is only now. You do want man to love animals and his fellow human beings, do you not? You do want to put an end to cruelty, not at some future time but now. If you think in terms of the future, love has no reality. If one may ask, which is the true beginning of any action: is it love, or the capacity to organize? "Why do you separate the two?" Is there separation implied in the question just asked? If action arises from seeing the necessity of a certain work, and from having the capacity to organize it, such action leads in a direction quite different from that of action which is the outcome of love, and in which also there is the capacity to organize. When action springs from frustration, or from the desire for power, however excellent that action may be in itself, its effects are bound to be confusing and wrought with sorrow. The action of love is not fragmentary, contradictory, or separative; it has a total, integrated effect. "Why are you raising this issue? I came to ask if you would kindly help us in our work, and you are questioning the source of action. What for?" If one may ask, what is the source of your own interest in bringing about an organization which will help the animals? Why are you so active? "I think that's fairly obvious. I see how appallingly the poor animals are treated, and I want to help, through legislation and other means, to put an end to this cruelty. I don't know if I have any motive other than this. perhaps I have." Isn't it important to find out? Then you may be able to help the animals and man in a greater and deeper sense. Are you organizing this movement out of the desire to be somebody, to fulfil your ambition, or to escape from a sense of frustration? "You are very serious; you want to go to the root of things, don't you? I might as well be frank. In a way I am very ambitious. I do want to be known as a reformer; I want to be a success, and not a miserable failure. Everyone is struggling up the ladder of success and fame; I think it is normal and human. Why do you object to it?" I am not objecting to it. I am only pointing out that if your motive is not that of really helping the animals, then you are using them as a means to your self-aggrandizement, which is what the bullock cart driver is doing. He does it in a crude, brutal way, whereas you and others are more subtle and cunning about it, that is all. You are not stopping cruelty as long as your efforts to stop it are profitable to yourself. If by helping the animals you could not fulfil your ambition, or escape from your frustration and sorrow, you would then turn to some other means of fulfilment. All this indicates - doesn't it? - that you are not interested in animals at all, except as a means to your own personal gain. "But everybody is doing that in one way or another, aren't they? And why shouldn't I?" Of course, that is what the vast majority of people are doing. From the biggest politician to the village manipulator, from the highest prelate to the local priest, from the greatest social reformer to the worn-out social worker, each one is using the country, the poor, or the name of God, as a means of fulfilling his ideas, his hopes, his Utopias. He is the centre, his is the power and the glory, but always in the name of the people, in the name of the holy, in the name of the downtrodden. It is for this reason that there is such a frightening and sorrowful mess in the world. These are not the people who will bring peace to the world, who will stop exploitation, who will put an end to cruelty. On the contrary, they are responsible for even greater confusion and misery. "I see the truth of this, all right, as you explain it; but there is pleasure in exercising power, and I, like others, succumb to it." Can't we leave others out of our discussion? When you compare yourself with others, it is to justify or condemn what you do, and then you are not thinking at all. You are defending yourself by taking a stand, and that way we shall get nowhere. Now, as a human being who is somewhat aware of the significance of all that we have talked about this morning, don't you feel there may be a different approach to all this cruelty, to man's ambition, and so on? "Sir, I have heard a great deal about you from my father, and I came partly out of curiosity, and partly because I thought that you might join us if I could be sufficiently persuasive. But I was wrong. "May I ask: how am I to forget myself, outwardly and inwardly, and really love? After all, being a Brahman, and all that, I have the religious life in my blood; but I have wandered so far from the religious outlook that I don't think I can ever get back to it again. What am I to do? perhaps I am not asking this question in all seriousness, and I shall probably continue my superficial life; but can you not tell me something that will remain in me like a seed and geminate in spite of me?" The religious life is not a matter of revival; you cannot put new life into what is past and gone. Let the past be buried, don't try to revive it. Be aware that you are interested in yourself, and that your activities are self-centred. Don't pretend, don't deceive yourself. Be aware of the fact that you are ambitious, that you are seeking power, position, prestige, that you want to be important. Don't justify it to yourself or to another. Be simple and direct about what you are. Then love may come unasked, when you are not seeking it. Love alone can purge the cunning pursuits from the hidden recesses of the mind. Love is the only way out of man's confusion and sorrow, not the efficient organizations that he puts together. "But how can one individual, even though he may love, affect the course of events without collective organization and action? To put a stop to cruelty will require the cooperation of a great many people. How can this be achieved?" If you really feel that love is the only true source of action, you will talk to others about it, and you will then gather together a few who have a similar feeling. The few may grow into the many, but that is not your concern. You are concerned with love and its total action. It is only this total action on the part of each individual that will bring a wholly different world into being. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES III CHAPTER 8 'CONDITIONING AND THE URGE TO BE FREE' IT WAS AN enchanting walk. The path from the house lay through the vineyard, and the grapes were just beginning to ripen; they were rich and full, and would yield a great deal of red wine. The vineyard was well-tended, and there were no weeds. Next came the beautifully-kept tobacco patch, long and wide. After the rain, the plants were beginning to blossom with pink flowers, neat and tidy; their faint smell of fresh tobacco, so different from the sickening smell of burnt tobacco, would become stronger in the hot sun. The long stem on which the flowers grew would presently be cut off to make the pale, silvery-green tobacco leaves, already quite large, grow still larger and richer by the time they were picked. Then they would be gathered together, classified, tied on long strings, and strung up in the long building behind the house, to dry evenly where the sun wouldn't touch them, but where there would be the evening breeze. Men with oxen were working in that tobacco patch even then, drawing a furrow between the long, straight rows of plants, to destroy the weeds. The soil had been carefully prepared and heavily manured, and weeds grew in it as richly as did the tobacco plants; but after all those weeks, there was not a single weed to be seen. The path went on through an orchard of peach, pear, plum, greengage, nectarine and other trees, all laden with ripening fruit. In the evening there was a sweet scent in the air, and during the day, the hum of many bees. Beyond the orchard, the path led down a long slope, deep into thick, sheltering woods. Here the earth was soft under the feet with the dead leaves of many summers. It was very cool under the trees, for the sun had little chance to penetrate their thick foliage; the soil was always damp and sweet smelling, giving off the scent of rich humus. There were quantities of mushrooms, most of them the inedible variety. Here and there could be found the kind that can be eaten, but you had to look for them; they were more retiring, generally hidden under a leaf of the same colour. The peasants would come early to pick them for the market, or for their own use. There were hardly any birds in those woods, which spread for miles over the gently rolling hills. It was very quiet; there was not even the stirring of a breeze among the leaves. But there was always a move- ment of some kind in those woods, and that movement was part of the immense silence; it was not disturbing, and it seemed to add to the stillness of the mind. The trees, the insects, the spreading ferns, were not separate, something seen from the outside; they were part of that quietude, within and without. Even the muffled roar of a distant train was contained in that quietness. There was complete absence of resistance, and the bark of a dog, insistent and penetrating, seemed to heighten the stillness. Beyond the woods was the lovely, curving river. It was not too wide or impressive, but wide enough to give space for the keen eye to see people on the opposite bank. All along both banks there were trees, mostly poplars, tall and stately, with their leaves aquiver in the breeze. The water was deep and cool, and always flowing. It was a beautiful thing to watch, so alive and rich. A lonely fisherman was sitting on a stool with a picnic basket beside him and a newspaper on his knee. The river brought contentment and peace, though the fish seemed to avoid the bait. The river would always be there, though there would be wars and men would die; it would always be nourishing the earth and men. Far away were the snowcovered mountains, and on a clear evening, when the setting sun was upon them, their lofty peaks could be seen like sunlit clouds. Three or four of us were in the room, and just beyond the window was a wide, sparkling lawn. The sky was pale blue, with heavy, billowy clouds. "Is it ever really possible," asked the man, "for the mind to free itself from its conditioning? If so, what is the state of a mind that has unconditioned itself? I have heard your talks over a period of several years, and have given a great deal of thought to the matter, yet my mind doesn't seem able to break away from the traditions and ideas that were implanted during childhood. I know that I am as conditioned as any other person. From childhood we are taught to conform - taught brutally, or with affection and gentle suggestions - until conforming becomes instinctive, and the mind is afraid of the insecurity of not conforming. "I have a friend who grew up in a Catholic environment," he went on, "and of course she was told of sin, hellfire, the comforting joys of heaven, and all the rest of it. Upon reaching maturity, and after a great deal of reflection, she threw off the Catholic structure of thought; yet even now, in middle life, she finds herself influenced by the idea of hell, with its contagious fears. Though my background is superficially quite different, I, like her, am also afraid of not conforming. I see the absurdity of conforming, but I can't shake it off; and even if I could, I should probably be doing the same thing in another way - merely comforting to a new pattern." "That's also my difficulty," added one of the ladies. "I see very clearly the many ways in which I am bound by tradition; but can I break away from my present bondage without being caught in a new one? There are people who drift from one religious organization to another, always seeking, never satisfied; and when at last they are satisfied, they become frightful bores. That's probably what will happen to me if I try to break away from my present conditioning: without knowing it, I shall be dragged into another pattern of life." "As a matter of fact," went on the man, "most of us have never thought very deeply about how our mind is almost entirely shaped by the society and the culture in which we have grown up. We are unaware of our conditioning and just carry on, struggling, achieving, or being frustrated within the pattern of a given society. That's the lot of almost all of us, including the political and religious leaders. Unfortunately for me, perhaps, I came to hear several of your talks, and then the pain of questioning began. For some time I did not think about this matter very deeply, but suddenly I find myself becoming serious. I have been experimenting, and am now aware of many things in myself which I had never noticed before. If I may continue without everyone feeling that I am talking too much, I would like to go into this question of conditioning a little further." When the others had assured him that they too were deeply interested in this subject, he went on. "After having heard or read most of the things you have said, I realized how conditioned I am; and I likewise saw that one must be free from conditioning - not only from the conditioning of the superficial mind, but also from that of the unconscious. I perceived the absolute necessity of it. But what is actually taking place is this: the conditioning I received in my youth continues, and at the same time there is a strong desire to uncondition myself. So my mind is caught in this conflict between the conditioning of which I am aware, and the urge to be free from it. That's my actual position right now. How shall I proceed from there?" Does not the urge of the mind to free itself from its conditioning set going another pattern of resistance and conditioning? Having become aware of the pattern or mould in which you have grown up, you want to be free from it; but will not this desire to be free condition the mind again in a different manner? The old pattern insists that you conform to authority, and now you are developing a new one which maintains that you must not conform; so you have two patterns, one in conflict with the other. As long as there is this inner contradiction, further conditioning takes place. "I know that the old pattern is quite absurd and dead, and that there must be freedom from it, otherwise my mind will go on in the same stupid way." Let's be patient and go into it more. The old pattern has told you to conform, and for various reasons - fear of insecurity, and so on -you have conformed. Now, for reasons of a different kind, but in which there is still fear and the desire for security, you feel you must not conform. That's so, isn't it? "Yes, that's so more or less. But the old is stupid, and I must be free from stupidity." May I point out, sir, that you are not listening. You go on insisting that the old is bad, and you must have the new. But having the new is not the problem at all. "That's my problem, sir." Is it? You think so, but let's see. please don't carry on with your own thoughts about the problem, but just listen, will you? "I will try." One conforms instinctively for various reasons: out of attachment, fear, the desire for reward, and so on. That is one's first response. Then somebody comes along and says that one must be free from conditioning, and there arises the urge not to conform. Do you follow? "Yes sir, that's clear." Now, is there any essential difference between the desire to conform, and the craving to be free of conformity? "It seems as if there should be, but I really don't know. What do you say, sir?" It is not for me to tell you, and for you to accept. Must you not find out for yourself whether there is any fundamental difference between these two seemingly opposing desires? "How am I to find out?" By neither condemning the one nor eagerly pursuing the other. What is the state of the mind that is hungering after freedom from conformity, and rejecting conformity? please don't answer me, but feel it out, actually experience that state. Words are necessary for communication, but the word is not the actual experience. Unless you really experience and understand that state, your efforts to be free will only bring about the formation of other patterns. Isn't that so? "I don't quite understand." Surely, not to put an end completely to the mechanism that produces patterns, moulds, whether positive or negative, is to continue in a modified pattern or conditioning. "I can understand this verbally, but I don't really feel it." To a hungry man, the mere description of food is valueless; he wants to eat. There is the urge that makes for conformity, and the urge to be free. However dissimilar these two urges may seem to be, are they not fundamentally similar? And if they are fundamentally similar, then your pursuit of freedom is vain for you will only move from one pattern to another, endlessly. There is no noble or better conditioning; all conditioning is pain. The desire to be, or not to be, breeds conditioning, and it is this desire that has to be understood. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES III CHAPTER 9 'THE VOID WITHIN' SHE WAS CARRYING a large basket on her head, holding it in place with one hand; it must have been quite heavy, but the swing of her walk was not altered by the weight. She was beautifully poised, her walk easy and rhythmical. On her arm were large metal bangles which made a slight tinkling sound, and on her feet were old, worn-out sandals. Her sari was torn and dirty with long use. She generally had several companions with her, all of them carrying baskets, but that morning she was alone on the rough road. The sun wasn't too hot yet, and high up in the blue sky some vultures were moving in wide circles without a flutter of their wings. The river ran silently by the road. It was a very peaceful morning, and that solitary woman with the large basket on her head seemed to be the focus of beauty and grace; all things seemed to be pointing to her and accepting her as part of there own being. She was not a separate entity but part of you and me, and of that tamarind tree. She wasn't walking in front of me, but I was walking with that basket on my head. It wasn't an illusion, a thought-out, wished-for, and cultivated identification, which would be ugly beyond measure, but an experience that was natural and immediate. The few steps that separated us had vanished; time, memory, and the wide distance that thought breeds, had totally disappeared. There was only that woman, not I looking at her. And it was a long way to the town, where she would sell the contents of her basket. Towards evening she would come back along that road and cross the little bamboo bridge on her way to her village, only to appear again the next morning with her basket full. He was very serious, and no longer young, but he had a pleasant smile and was in good health. Sitting cross-legged on the floor, he explained in somewhat halting English, of which he was rather shy, that he had been to college and taken his M.A., but had not spoken English for so many years that he had almost forgotten it. He had read a great deal of Sanskrit literature and Sanskrit words were frequently on his lips. He had come, he said, to ask several questions about the inward void, the emptiness of the mind. Then he began to chant in Sanskrit, and the room was instantly filled with a deep resonance, pure and penetrating. He went on chanting for some time, and it was a delight to listen. His face shone with the meaning he was giving to each word, and with the love he felt for what the word contained. He was devoid of any artifice, and was much too serious to put on a pose. "I am very happy to have chanted those shlokas in your presence. To me they have great significance and beauty; I have meditated upon them for many years, and they have been to me a source of guidance and strength. I have trained myself not to be easily moved, but these shlokas bring tears to my eyes. The very sound of the words, with their rich meaning, fills my heart, and then life is not a travail and a misery. Like every other human being, I have known sorrow; there has been death and the ache of life. I had a wife who died before I left the comforts of my father's house, and now I know the meaning of voluntary poverty. I am telling you all this merely by way of explanation. I am not frustrated, lonely, or anything of that kind. My heart takes delight in many things; but my father used to tell me something about your talks, and an acquaintance has urged me to see you; and so here I am. "I want you to speak to me of the immeasurable void," he went on. "I have had a feeling of that void, and I think I have touched the hem of it in my wanderings and meditations." Then he quoted a shloka to explain and to support his experience. If it may be pointed out, the authority of another, however great, is no proof of the truth of your experience. Truth needs no proof by action, nor does it depend on any authority; so let's put aside all authority and tradition, and try to find out the truth of this matter for ourselves. "That would be very difficult for me, for I am steeped in tradition - not in the tradition of the world, but in the teachings of the Gita, the Upanishads, and so on. Is it right for me to let all that go? Would that not be ingratitude on my part?" Neither gratitude nor ingratitude are in any way involved; we are concerned with discovering the truth or the falseness of that void of which you have spoken. If you walk on the path of authority and tradition, which is knowledge you will experience only what you desire to experience, helped on by authority and tradition. It will not be a discovery; it will already be known a thing to be recognized and experienced. Authority and tradition may be wrong, they may be a comforting illusion. To discover whether that void is true or false, whether it exists or is merely another invention of the mind, the mind must be free from the net of authority and tradition. "Can the mind ever free itself from this net?" The mind cannot free itself, for any effort on its part to be free only weaves another net in which it will again be caught. Freedom is not an opposite; to be free is not to be free from something, it's not a state of release from bondage. The urge to be free breeds its own bondage. Freedom is a state of being which is not the outcome of the desire to be free. When the mind understands this, and sees the falseness of authority and tradition, then only does the false wither away. "It may be that I have been induced to feel certain things by my reading, and by the thoughts based on such reading; but apart from all that, I have vaguely felt from childhood, as in a dream, the existence of this void. There has always been an intimation of it, a nostalgic feeling for it; and as I grew older, my reading of various religious books only strengthened this feeling, giving it more vitality and purpose. But I begin to realize what you mean. I have depended almost entirely on the description of the experiences of others, as given in the sacred Scriptures. This dependence I can throw off, since I now see the necessity of doing so; but can I revive that original, uncontaminated feeling for that which is beyond words?" What is revived is not the living, the new; it is a memory, a dead thing, and you cannot put life into the dead. To revive and live on memory is to be a slave to stimulation, and a mind that depends on stimulation, conscious or unconscious, will inevitably become dull and insensitive. Revival is the perpetuation of confusion; to turn to the dead past in the moment of a living crisis is to seek a pattern of life which has its roots in decay. What you experienced as a youth, or only yesterday, is over and gone; and if you cling to the past, you prevent the quickening experience of the new. "As I think you will realize, sir, I am really in earnest, and for me it has become an urgent necessity to understand and to be of that void. What am I to do?" One has to empty the mind of the known; all the knowledge that one has gathered must cease to have any influence on the living mind. Knowledge is ever of the past, it is the very process of the past, and the mind must be free from this process. Recognition is part of the process of knowledge, isn't it? "How is that?" To recognize something, you must have known or experienced it previously, and this experience is stored up as knowledge, memory. Recognition comes out of the past. You may have experienced, once upon a time, this void, and having once experienced it, you now crave for it. The original experience came about without your pursuing it; but now you are pursuing it, and the thing that you are seeking is not the void, but the renewal of an old memory. If it is to happen again, all remembrance of it, all knowledge of it, must disappear. All search for it must cease, for search is based on the desire to experience. "Do you really mean that I must not search it out? This seems incredible!" The motive of search is of greater significance than the search itself. The motive pervades, guides and shapes the search. The motive of your search is the desire to experience the unknowable to know the bliss and the immensity of it. This desire has brought into being the experiencer who craves for experience. The experiencer is searching for greater, wider and more significant experience. All other experiences having lost their taste, the experiencer now longs for the void; so there is the experiencer, and the thing to be experienced. Thus conflict is set going between the two, between the pursuer and the pursued. "This I understand very well, because it is exactly the state I am in. I now see that I am caught in a net of my own making." As every seeker is, and not just the seeker after truth, God, the void, and so on. Every ambitious or covetous man who is pursuing power, position, prestige, every idealist, every worshipper of the State, every builder of a perfect Utopia - they are all caught in the same net. But if once you understand the total significance of search, will you continue to seek the void? "I perceive the inward meaning of your question and I have already stopped seeking." If this be a fact, then what is the state of the mind that is not seeking? "I do not know; the whole thing is so new to me that I shall have to gather myself and observe. May I have a few minutes before we go any further?" After a pause, he continued. "I perceive how extraordinarily subtle it is; how difficult it is for the experiencer, the watcher, not to step in. It seems almost impossible for thought not to create the thinker; but as long as there is a thinker, an experiencer, there must obviously be separation from, and conflict with, that which is to be experienced. And you are asking, aren't you, what is the state of the mind when there is no conflict?" Conflict exists when desire assumes the form of the experiencer and pursues that which is to be experienced; for that which is to be experienced is also put together by desire. "Please be patient with me, and let me understand what you are saying. Desire not only builds the experiencer, the watcher, but also brings into being that which is to be experienced, the watched. So desire is the cause of the division between the experiencer and the thing to be experienced, and it is this division that sustains conflict. Now, you are asking, what is the state of the mind which is no longer in conflict, which is not driven by desire? But can this question be answered without the watcher who is watching the experience of desirelessness?" When you are conscious of your humility, has not humility ceased? Is there virtue when you deliberately practise virtue? Such practice is the strengthening of self-centred activity, which puts an end to virtue. The moment you are aware that you are happy, you cease to be happy. What is the state of the mind which is not caught in the conflict of desire? The urge to find out is part of the desire which has brought into being the experiencer and the thing to be experienced, is it not? "That's so. Your question was a trap for me, but I am thankful you asked it. I am seeing more of the intricate subtleties of desire." It was not a trap, but a natural and inevitable question which you would have asked yourself in the course of your inquiry. If the mind is not extremely alert, aware, it is soon caught again in the net of its own desire. "One final question: is it really possible for the mind to be totally free of the desire for experience, which sustains this division between the experiencer and the thing to be experienced?" Find out, sir. When the mind is entirely free of this structure of desire, is the mind then different from the void? COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES III CHAPTER 10 'THE PROBLEM OF SEARCH' IT WAS VERY early in the morning of a sunlit day, limpid and clear, and the restless sea was quiet, gently lapping the white shore. There was hardly any movement of the vast waters which were intensely blue as though some artificial colour had been added. There was a sparkle in the sea, and a gaiety; it was bluer than the blue sky, and it was old and full of joy. Last week the waters had been violent and threatening, with a strong current that would have carried one far out; but now they were all but still, with only a whisper of movement. The wind had exhausted itself after days of heavy blowing, and there wasn't even a breeze. The smoke of a steamer far out at sea was going almost straight up in the cloudless sky. It was so quiet that one could hear the sound of a train, still several miles away, as it came along the low cliff overlooking the sea. The faint rumble grew into a roar, and soon the earth shook as the long freight train, a hundred steel cars pulled by a spanking new diesel, passed swiftly overhead. The driver waved his hand and smiled. Soon the train was out of sight, and once again there was quiet by the blue sea. Miles to the north, one could just see rows of carefully-planted palm trees, with green lawns, where the town came down to the edge of the sea; but here it was very peaceful. There were hundreds of seagulls on the beach. One evidently had a broken wing, for it was standing apart its wing hanging down; further along, a dead gull was almost covered by the shifting sands. A large dog came along, a lovely creature in the sun, and the whole flock of birds flew out to sea, made a wide half- circle, and landed on the sand again, some distance behind the dog. With a frightened cry, the injured gull moved towards the water, dragging its wing; the dog saw it, but paying no attention, went on its way, chasing the small crabs that came out of the wet sands. A clerk in some office, he was grave and very earnest, with bright, serious eyes and a ready smile. prices had gone up he said, and living had become so expensive that it was difficult to make ends meet. Although still quite young, in his thirties, he was anxious about the future, for he had responsibilities - no children, he explained, but a wife and an old mother to provide for. "What is the purpose of life, of this monotonous, routine existence?" he suddenly asked. "I have always been seeking something or other: seeking a job when I got through college, seeking pleasure with my wife, seeking to bring about a better world by joining the Communist party - which I soon left, incidentally, because it's just an organized religion, like any other; and now I am seeking God. By nature I am not a pessimist, but everything in life has saddened me. We seek and seek, and we never seem to find. I have read the books that most educated people read, but intellectual stimulation soon becomes wearisome. I must find, and my life is beginning to shorten. I want to talk most seriously with you, for I feel that you may be of help in my search" Can we go slowly and patiently into this movement called search? There are those who assert that they have sought and found, and being satisfied with what they have found, they have their reward. You say you are seeking. Do you know why you are seeking, and what it is you seek? "Like everyone else, I have sought many things, most of which have passed away; but, like some disease that has no cure, the search goes on." Before we go into the whole question of what it is we seek, let's find out what we mean by that word `seeking'. What is the state of the mind that is seeking? "It is a state of effort in which the mind is trying to get away from a painful or conflicting situation, and to find a pleasurable, comforting one." Is such a mind really seeking? What the mind seeks it will find, but what it finds will be its own projection. Is there true search, if search is the outcome of a motive? Must all search have a motive, or is there a search which has no motive whatsoever? Can the mind exist without the movement of search? Is search as we know it merely another means by which the mind escapes from itself? If so what is it that is driving the mind to escape? Without understanding the full content of the mind that is seeking search has little significance. "I am afraid, sir, all this is a bit too much for me. Could you make it simpler?" Let's begin with the process we know. Why do you seek, and what are you seeking? "One is seeking so many things: happiness, security, comfort, permanency, God, a society which is not everlastingly at war with itself, and so on." The state you are actually in, and the end you are seeking, are both creations of the mind, are they not? "Please, sir, don't make it too difficult. I know I suffer, and I want to find a way out of it I want to move towards a state in which there will be no sorrow." But the end you are seeking is still the projection of a mind that doesn't want to be disturbed; isn't that so? And there may be no such thing, it may be a myth. "If that is a myth, then there must be something else which is real, and which I must find." We are trying to understand, aren't we?, the total significance of search, not how to find the real. We may come upon that presently. For the moment we are concerned with what we mean when we say we are seeking, so let's inquire into the whole implication of that word. Being unhappy, you are seeking happiness, are you not? One man sees happiness in power, position prestige, another in wealth or knowledge, another in God, another in the ideal State, the perfect Utopia, and so on. As a man who is ambitious in the worldly sense pursues the path of his fulfilment, in which there is ruthlessness, frustration, fear, perhaps covered over with sweet-sounding words, so you also are seeking to fulfil your desire, even though it be for the highest; and when you already know what the end is, is there search? "Surely sir, God or bliss cannot be known beforehand; it must be sought out." How can you seek out that which you do not know? You know, or think you know, what God is, and you know according to your conditioning, or according to your own experience, which is based on your conditioning; so, having formulated what God is, you proceed to `discover' that which your mind has projected. This is obviously not search; you are merely pursuing what you already know. Search ceases when you know, because knowing is a process of recognition, and to recognize is an action of the past, of the known. "But I am really seeking God, by whatever name He may be called." You are seeking God, as others are seeking happiness through drink, through the acquisition of power, and so on. These are all well-known and well-established motives. Motive brings about the desired end. But is there search when there is a motive? "I think I am beginning to see what you mean. please go on, sir." If you are really earnest, the moment you perceive that in this whole pattern of so-called search, there is no search at all, you abandon it. But the cause of your search still remains. You may set aside pattern A, which is the search after that which the mind has projected; but then you will turn to pattern B, which is the idea that you must not pursue pattern A; and if it is not pattern B it will be pattern C, N, or Z. The core of your mind has not understood the whole problem of seeking, and that is why it moves from one pattern to another, from one ideal to another, from one guru or leader to another. It is ever moving in the net of the known. Now, can the mind remain without seeking? Is there the mind, the seeker, when this movement of search is not? The mind swing from one movement of search to another, ever groping, ever seeking, ever caught in the net of experience. This movement is always towards the `more: more stimulation, more experience, wider and deeper knowledge. The hunter is ever projecting the hunted. Does the mind seek, once it is aware of the significance of this whole process of seeking? And when the mind is not seeking, is there an experiencer to experience? "What do you mean by the experiencer?" As long as there is a seeker and a thing sought, there must be the experiencer, the one who recognizes, and this is the core of the mind's self-centred movement. From this centre, all activities take place, whether noble or ignoble: the desire for wealth and power, the compulsion to be content with what is, the urge to seek God, to bring about reforms, and so on. "I see in myself the truth of what you are saying. I have approached the whole thing wrongly." Does this mean you are going to approach it `rightly'? Or are you aware that any approach to the problem, `right' or `wrong', is self-centred activity, which only strengthens, subtly or grossly, the experiencer? "How cunning the mind is, how quick and subtle in its movement to maintain itself! I see that very clearly." When the mind ceases to seek because it has understood the total significance of search, do not the limitations which it has imposed upon itself fall away? And is the mind not then the immeasurable, the unknown? COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES III CHAPTER 11 'PSYCHOLOGICAL REVOLUTION' THERE WAS A great bustle and ado before the train started. The long carriages were very crowded full of people and full of smoke, every face hidden behind a newspaper; but luckily there were still one or two seats vacant. The train was electric, and soon it was out of the suburbs and gathering speed in the open country, passing the cars and buses on the highway which ran parallel to the tracks. It was beautiful country, green, rolling hills and ancient, historic towns. The sun was bright and gentle, for it was early spring, and the fruit trees were just beginning to show pink and white blossoms. The whole countryside was green, fresh and young, with tender leaves sparkling and dancing in the sun. It was a heavenly day, but the carriage was full of weary people, and the air was thick with tobacco smoke. A little girl and her mother sat just across the aisle and the mother was explaining to her that she must not stare at strangers; but the child paid no attention, and presently we smiled at each other. From then on she was at ease, looking up often to see if she was being looked at and smiling when our eyes met. presently she fell asleep, curled up on the seat, and the mother covered her with a coat. It must be lovely to walk along that path through the fields, amidst so much beauty and clarity. People waved as we roared along beside the well-paved road. Big white bullocks were slowly pulling carts laden with manure, and some of the men who were driving them must have been singing, for their mouths were open, and one could see by their faces that they were enjoying themselves in that fresh morning air. There were men and women in the fields, digging, planting, sowing. I wandered up the long aisle, with seats on both sides, towards the head of the train. Walking through the dining car and past the kitchen, I pushed open a door and entered the luggage van. No one stopped me. The many pieces of luggage were neatly arranged in racks, their labels fluttering in the draught. I went through another door, and there were the two engine-drivers, completely surrounded by large, wide windows which gave an unobstructed view all around of the lovely countryside. One of the men was manipulating the handle which controlled the current, and in front of him were the various meters. The other, who was watching and leisurely smoking, offered his seat, and taking a stool, sat directly behind me. He was very insistent that I sit there, and began to ask innumerable questions. In the middle of his questioning he would stop to point out the castles on the hill-tops, some of them in ruins, and others still well-preserved. He explained what those brilliant red and green lights meant, and would pull out his watch to see if we were on schedule at each station. We were doing between 100 and 110 kilometres, round the curves, up the gentle slopes, over the bridges, and on the long, straight runs; but we never went beyond 110. "If you got off at the station we just passed and took another train," he said, "you would go to the town named after a famous saint." Crashing over the switches, we went hurtling past stations with names that came down from ancient days. We were now running along the shores of a blue, misty lake, and could just see the towns on the other side. There had been a famous battle in this area on whose outcome the fate of a whole people had depended. Soon we had passed the lake, and climbing out of the valley, and around the curving hills, we left behind us the olive and the cypress, and found ourselves in a more rugged country. The man behind me announced the name of the muddy river as we ran beside it, and it looked so small and gentle for such a famous stream. The other man, who had removed his hand from the throttle only once or twice during the two-and-a-half-hour journey, apologized on behalf of them both for not being able to speak English. "But what does it matter," he said, "since you understand our beautiful language?" We were coming now to the outskirts of the big town, and the blue sky was obscured by its smoke. There were several of us in that small room overlooking the beautiful lake, and it was quiet, though the birds were pleasantly noisy. Among the group was a big man, full of health and vigour, with sharp but gentle eyes, and slow, deliberate speech. As he was eager to talk, the others remained silent, but they would join in when they felt it to be necessary. "I have been in politics for many years, and have really worked for what I genuinely thought was the good of the country. That doesn't mean that I didn't seek power and position. I did seek it; I fought others for it, and as you may know, I have achieved it. I first heard you many years ago, and though some of the things you said hit home, your whole approach to life was for me only of momentary interest; it never took deep root. However, through the passing years, with all their struggle and pain, something has been maturing in me, and recently I have been attending your talks and discussions whenever I could. I now fully realize that what you are saying is the only way out of our confusing difficulties. I have been all over Europe and America, and for a time looked to Russia for a solution. I was an active worker in the Communist party, and with good and serious intent cooperated with its religious-political leaders. But now I am resigning from everything. It has all become corrupt and ineffectual, though in certain directions good progress was made. Having thought a great deal about these matters, I now want to examine the whole thing afresh, and I feel I am ready for something new and clear." To examine, one must not start with a conclusion, with a party loyalty or a bias; there must be no desire for success no demand for immediate action. If one is involved in any of these things, true examination is utterly impossible. To examine afresh the whole issue of existence the mind must be stripped clean of any personal motive, of any sense of frustration, of any seeking of power, whether for oneself of for one's group, which is the same thing. That is so, isn't it, sir? "Please don't call me `sir'! Of course, that is the only way to examine and to understand anything, but I don't know if I am capable of it." Capacity comes with direct and immediate application. To examine the many complex issues of existence, we must start without being committed to any philosophy, to any ideology, to any system of thought or pattern of action. The capacity to comprehend is not a matter of time; it is an immediate perception is it not? "If I perceive something to be poisonous, to avoid it is no problem, I simply don't touch it. Similarly if I see that any kind of conclusion prevents the complete examination of the problems of life, then all conclusions, personal and collective, fall away; I don't have to struggle to be free of them. Is that it?" Yes but a clear statement of fact is not the actual fact. To be really free from conclusions is quiet another mater. Once we perceive that bias of any kind hinders complete examination, we may proceed to look without bias. But out of habit, the mind tends to fall back on authority, on deep-rooted tradition; and to be so aware of this tendency that it does not interfere with the process of examination is also necessary. With this understanding, shall we proceed? Now, what is man's most fundamental need? "Food, clothing and shelter; but to bring about an equitable distribution of these basic necessities becomes a problem, because man is by nature greedy and exclusive." You mean that he is encouraged and educated by society to be what he is? Now, another kind of society, through legislation and other forms of compulsion, may be able to force him not to be greedy and exclusive; but this only sets up a counter-reaction, and so there is a conflict between the individual, and the ideal established by the State, or by a powerful religious-political group. To bring about an equitable distribution of food, clothing, shelter, a totally different kind of social organization is necessary, is it not? Separate nationalities and there sovereign governments, power blocks and conflicting economic structures, as well as the cast system and organized religious - each of proclaims its way to be the only true way. All these must cease to be, which means that the whole hierarchical, authoritarian attitude towards life must come to an end. "I can see that this is the only real revolution." It is a complete psychological revolution, and such a revolution is essential if man throughout the world is not to be in want of the basic physical necessities. The earth is ours, it is not English, Russian or American, nor does it belong to any ideological group. We are human beings, not Hindus, Buddhists, Christens or Muslims. All these divisions have to go, including the latest, Communist, if we are to bring about a totally different economic-social structure. It must start with you and me. "Can I act politically to help bring about such a revolution?" If one may ask, what do you mean when you talk about acting politically? Is political action, whatever that may be, separate from the total action of man, or is it part of it? "By political action, I mean action at the governmental level: legislative, economic administrative, and so on." Surely, if political action is separate from the total action of man, if it does not take into consideration his whole being, his psychological as well as his physical state, then it is mischievous, bringing further confusion and misery; and this is exactly what is taking place in the world at the present time. Cannot man, with all his problems, act as a complete human being, and not as a political entity, separated from his psychological or `spiritual' state? A tree is the root, the trunk, the branch, the leaf and the flower. Any action which is not comprehensive, total, must inevitably lead to sorrow. There is only total human action, not political action, religious action, or Indian action. Action which is separative, fragmentary, always leads to conflict both within and without. "This means that political action is impossible, doesn't it?" Not at all. The comprehension of total action surely does not prevent political, educational or religious activity. These are not separate activities, they are all part of a unitary process which will express itself in different directions. What is important is this unitary process, and not a separate political action, however apparently beneficial. "I think I see what you mean. If I have this total understanding of man, or of myself, my attention may be turned in different directions, as necessary, but all my actions will be in direct relation to the whole. Action which is separative, departmentalized can only produce chaotic results, as I am beginning to realize. Seeing all this, not as a politician, but as a human being, my outlook on life utterly changes; I am no longer of any country, of any party, of any particular religion. I need to know God, as I need to have food, clothing and shelter; but if I seek the one apart from the other, my search will only lead to various forms of disaster and confusion. Yes, I see this is so. politics, religion and education are all intimately related to each other. "All right, sir, I am no longer a politician, with a political bias in action. As a human being, not as a Communist, a Hindu or a Christian, I want to educate my son. Can we consider this problem?" Integrated life and action is education. Integration does not come about through conformity to a pattern, either one's own, or that of another. It comes into being through understanding the many influences that impinge on the mind; through being aware of them without being caught in them. The parents and society are conditioning the child by suggestion, by subtle, unexpressed desires and compulsions, and by the constant reiteration of certain dogmas and beliefs. To help the child to be aware of all these influences, with their inward, psychological significance, to help him understand the ways of authority and not be caught in the net of society is education. Education is not merely a matter of imparting a technique which will equip the boy to get a job, but it is to help him discover what it is he loves to do. This love cannot exist if he is seeking success, fame or power; and to help the child understand this is education. Self-knowledge is education. In education there is neither the teacher nor the taught, there is only learning; the educator is learning, as the student is. Freedom has no beginning and no ending; to understand this is education. Each of these points has to be carefully gone into, and we haven't the time now to consider too many details. "I think I understand, in a general sense, what you mean by education. But where are the people who will teach in this new way? Such educators simply don't exist." For how many years did you say you worked in the political field? "For more years than I care to remember. I am afraid it was well over twenty." Surely, to educate the educator, one must work for it as arduously as you worked in politics - only it is a much more strenuous task which demands deep psychological insight. Unfortunately, no one seems to care about right education, yet it is far more important than any other single factor in bringing about a fundamental social transformation. "Most of us, especially the politicians, are so concerned with immediate results, that we think only in short terms, and have no long-range view of things. "Now, may I ask one more question? In all that we have been talking about, where does inheritance come in?" What do you mean by inheritance? Are you referring to the inheritance of property, or to psychological inheritance? "I was thinking of the inheritance of property. To tell you the truth, I have never thought about the other." Psychological inheritance is as conditioning as the inheritance of property; both limit and hold the mind in a particular pattern of society, which prevents a fundamental transformation of society. If our concern is to bring about a wholly different culture, a culture not based on ambition and acquisitiveness then psychological inheritance becomes a hindrance. "What exactly do you mean by psychological inheritance?" The imprint of the past on the young mind; the conscious and unconscious conditioning of the student to obey, to conform. The Communists are now doing this very efficiently, as the Catholics have for generations. Other religious sects are also doing it, but not so purposefully or effectively. parents and society are shaping the minds of the children through tradition, belief, dogma, conclusion, opinion, and this psychological inheritance prevents the coming into being of a new social order. "I can see that; but to put a stop to this form of inheritance is almost an impossibility, isn't it?" If you really see the necessity of putting a stop to this form of inheritance, then will you not give immense attention to bringing about the right kind of education for your son? "Again, most of us are so caught up in our own preoccupations and fears that we don't go into these matters very deeply, if at all. We are a generation of double-talkers and word-slingers. The inheritance of property is another difficult problem. We all want to own something, a piece of earth, however small, or another human being; and if it is not that, then we want to own ideologies or beliefs. We are incorrigible in our pursuit of possessions." But when you realize very deeply that inheriting property is as destructive as psychological inheritance, then you will set about helping your children to be free from both forms of inheritance. You will educate them to be completely self-sufficient, not to depend on your own or other people's favour, to love their work, and to have confidence in their capacity to work without ambition, without worshipping success; you will teach them to have the feeling of cooperative responsibility, and therefore to know when not to cooperate. Then there is no need for your children to inherit your property. They are free human beings from the very beginning, and not slaves either to the family or to society. "This is an ideal which I am afraid can never be realized." It is not an ideal, it is not something to be achieved in the never-never land of some far-distant Utopia. Understanding is now not in the future. Understanding is action. Understanding doesn't come first, and action later; action and realization are inseparable. In the very moment of seeing a cobra, there is action. If the truth of all that we have been talking about this morning is seen, then action is inherent in that perception. But we are so caught up in words, in the stimulating things of the intellect, that words and intellect become a hindrance to action. So-called intellectual understanding is only the hearing of verbal explanations, or the listening to ideas, and such understanding has no significance, as the mere description of food has no point to a hungry man. Either you understand, or you don't. Understanding is a total process, it is not separated from action, nor is it the result of time. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES III CHAPTER 12 'THERE IS NO THINKER, ONLY CONDITIONED THINKING' THE RAINS HAD washed the skies clean; the haze that had hung about was gone, and the sky was clear and intensely blue. The shadows were sharp and deep, and high on the hill a column of smoke was going straight up. They were burning something up there, and you could hear their voices. The little house was on a slope, but well-sheltered, with a small garden of its own to which loving care had been given. But this morning it was part of the whole of existence, and the wall around the garden seemed so unnecessary. Creepers grew on that wall, hiding the rocks, but here and there they were exposed; they were beautiful rocks, washed by many rains, and they had a growth of green-grey moss on them. Beyond the wall was a bit of wilderness, and somehow that wilderness was part of the garden. From the garden gate a path led to the village, where there was a dilapidated old church with a graveyard behind it. Very few came to the church, even on Sundays, mostly the old; and during the week no one came, for the village had other amusements. A small diesel locomotive with two carriages, cream and red, went to the larger town twice a day. The train was almost always filled with a cheerful, chattering crowd. Beyond the village another path led round to the right, gently going up the hill. On that path you would meet an occasional peasant carrying something, and with a grunt he would pass you by. On the other side of the hill, the path led down into a dense wood where the sun never penetrated; and going from the brilliant sunlight into the cool shadow of the wood was like a secret blessing. Nobody seemed to pass that way, and the wood was deserted. The dark green of the thick foliage was refreshing to the eyes and to the mind. One sat there in complete silence. Even the breeze was still; not a leaf moved, and there was that strange quietness which comes in places not frequented by human beings. A dog barked in the distance, and a brown deer crossed the path with easy leisure. He was an elderly man, pious, and eager for sympathy and blessing. He explained that he had been going regularly for several years to a certain teacher in the north to listen to his explanatory discourses on the Scriptures, and was now on his way to join his family in the south. "A friend told me that you were giving a series of talks here, and I stayed over to attend them. I have been listening with close attention to all that you have been saying, and I am aware of what you think of guides and of authority. I do not entirely agree with you, for we human beings need help from those who can offer it, and the fact that one eagerly accepts such help does not make one a follower." Surely, the desire for guidance makes for conformity, and a mind that conforms is incapable of finding the true. "But I am not conforming. I am not credulous, nor do I follow blindly; on the contrary, I use my mind, I question all that's said by this teacher I go to." To look for light from another, without self-knowledge, is to follow blindly. All following is blind. "I do not think I am capable of penetrating the deeper layers of the self, and so I seek help. My coming to you for help does not make me your follower." If it may be pointed out, sir, the setting up of authority is a complex affair. Following another is merely an effect of a deeper cause, and without understanding that cause, whether one outwardly follows or not has very little meaning. The desire to arrive to reach the other shore, is the beginning of our human search. We crave success, permanency, comfort, love, an enduring state of peace, and unless the mind is free of this desire, there must be following in direct or devious ways. Following is merely a symptom of a deep longing for security. "I do want to reach the other shore, as you put it, and I will take any boat that will carry me across the river. To me the boat is not important, but the other shore is." It is not the other shore that is important, but the river, and the bank you are on. The river is life, it is everyday living with its extraordinary beauty, its joy and delight, its ugliness, pain and sorrow. Life is a vast complex of all these things, it is not just a passage to be got through somehow, and you must understand it, and not have your eyes on the other shore. You are this life of envy, violence, passing love, ambition, frustration, fear; and you are also the longing to escape from it all to what you call the other shore, the permanent the soul, the Atman, God, and so on. Without understanding this life, without being free of envy, with its pleasures and pains, the other shore is only a myth, an illusion, an ideal invented by a frightened mind in its search for security. A right foundation must be laid, otherwise the house, however noble, will not stand. "I am already frightened, and you add to my fear, you do not take it away. My friend told me that you are not easy to understand, and I can see why you are not. But I think I'm in earnest, and I do want something more than mere illusion. I quite agree that one must lay the right foundation; but to perceive for oneself what is true and what is false is another matter." Not at all, sir. The conflict of envy, with its pleasure and pain, inevitably breeds confusion, both outwardly and within. It is only when there is freedom from this confusion that the mind can discover what is true. All the activities of a confused mind only lead to further confusion. "How am I to be free from confusion?" The `how' implies gradual freedom; but confusion cannot be cleared up bit by bit, while the rest of the mind remains confused, for that part which is cleared up soon becomes confused again. The question of how to clear up this confusion arises only when your mind is still concerned with the other shore. You do not see the full significance of greed, or violence, or whatever it is; you only want to get rid of it in order to arrive at something else. If you were wholly concerned with envy, and its resultant misery, you would never ask how to get rid of it. The understanding of envy is a total action, whereas the `how' implies a gradual achievement of freedom, which is only the action of confusion. "What do you mean by total action?" To understand total action, we must explore the division between the thinker and his thought. "Is there not a watcher who is above both the thinker and his thought? I feel there is. For one blissful moment, I have experienced that state." Such experiences are the result of a mind that has been shaped by tradition, by a thousand influences. The religious visions of a Christian will be quite different from those of a Hindu or a Moslem, since all are essentially based on the mind's particular conditioning. The criterion of truth is not experience, but that state in which neither the experiencer nor the experience any longer exists. "You mean the state of samadhi?" No, sir; in using that word, you are merely quoting the description of another's experience. "But is there not a watcher beyond and above the thinker and his thought? I most definitely feel that there is." To start with a conclusion puts a stop to all thinking, doesn't it? "But this is not a conclusion, sir. I know, I have felt the truth of it." He who says he knows does not know. What you know or feel to be true is what you have been taught; another, who happens to have been taught differently by his society, by his culture, will assert with equal confidence that his knowledge and experience show him that there is no ultimate watcher. Both of you, the believer and the non-believer, are in the same category, are you not? You both start with a conclusion, and with experiences based on your conditioning, don't you? "When you put it that way, it does seem to put me in the wrong, but I am still not convinced." I am not trying to put you in the wrong, or to convince you of anything; I am only pointing out certain things for you to examine. "After considerable reading and study, I imagined I had thought out pretty thoroughly this question of the watcher and the watched. It seems to me that as the eye sees the flower, and the mind watches through the eye, so, behind the mind, there must be an entity who is aware of the whole process, that is of the mind, the eye, and the flower." Let us inquire into it without assertiveness, without haste or dogma- tism. How does thinking arise? There is perception, contact, sensation, and then thought, based on memory, says, "That is a rose." Thought creates the thinker; it is the thinking process that brings the thinker into being. Thought comes first, and later the thinker; it is not the other way round. If we do not see this to be a fact, we shall be led into all kinds of confusion. "But there is a division, a gap, narrow or wide, between the thinker and his thought; and does this not indicate that the thinker came into being first?" Let's see. perceiving itself to be impermanent, insecure, and desiring permanency, security, thought brings into being the thinker, and then pushes the thinker on to higher and higher levels of permanency. So there is seemingly an unbridgeable gap between the thinker and his thought, between the watcher and the watched; but this whole process is still within the area of thought, is it not? "Do you mean to say, sir, that the watcher has no reality, that he is as impermanent as thought? I can hardly believe this." You may call him the soul, the Atman, or by what name you will, but the watcher is still the product of thought. As long as thought is related in some way to the watcher, or the watcher is controlling, shaping thought, he is still within the field of thought, within the process of time. "How my mind objects to this! Yet, in spite of myself, I am beginning to see it to be a fact; and if it is a fact then there's only a process of thinking, and no thinker." That is so, isn't it? Thought has bred the watcher the thinker, the conscious or unconscious censor who is everlastingly judging, condemning, comparing. It is this watcher who is ever in conflict with his thoughts, ever making an effort to guide them. "Please go a little slower; I really want to feel my way through this. You are indicating - aren't you? - that every form of effort, noble or ignoble, is the result of this artificial, illusory division between the thinker and his thoughts. But are you trying to eliminate effort? Isn't effort necessary to all change?" We shall go into that presently. We have seen that there's only thinking, which has put together the thinker, the watcher, the censor, the controller. Between the watcher and the watched there is the conflict of effort made by the one to overcome or at least to change the other. This effort is vain, it can never produce a fundamental change in thought, because the thinker, the censor, is himself part of that which he wishes to change. One part of the mind cannot possibly transform another part, which is but a continuity of itself. One desire may, and often does, overcome another desire. But the desire that is dominant breeds still another desire, which in its turn becomes the loser or the gainer, and so the conflict of duality is set going. There's no end to this process. "It seems to me you are saying that only through the elimination of conflict is there a possibility of fundamental change. I don't quite follow this. Would you kindly go into it a little further?" The thinker and his thought are a unitary process, neither has an independent continuance; the watcher and the watched are inseparable. All the qualities of the watcher are contained in his thinking; if there's no thinking, there's no watcher, no thinker. This is a fact, is it not? "Yes, so far I have understood." If understanding is merely verbal, intellectual, it is of little significance. There must be an actual experiencing of the thinker and his thought as one, an integration of the two. Then there's only the process of thinking. "What do you mean by the process of thinking?" The way or direction in which thought has been set going: personal or impersonal, individualistic or collective, religious or worldly, Hindu or Christian, Buddhist or Moslem, and so on. There is no thinker who is a Moslem, but only thinking which has been given a Moslem conditioning. Thinking is the outcome of its own conditioning. The process or way of thinking must inevitably create conflict, and when effort is made to overcome this conflict through various means, it only builds up other forms of resistance and conflict. "That's clear, at least I think so." This way of thinking must wholly cease, for it breeds confusion and misery. There's no better or nobler way of thinking. All thinking is conditioned. "You seem to imply that only when thought ceases is there a radical change. But is this so?" Thought is conditioned. The mind, being the storehouse of experiences, memories, from which thought arises, is itself conditioned; and any movement of the mind, in any direction, produces its own limited results. When the mind makes an effort to transform itself, it merely builds another pattern, different perhaps, but still a pattern. Every effort of the mind to free itself is the continuance of thought; it may be at a higher level, but it is still within its own circle, the circle of thought, of time. "Yes, sir, I am beginning to understand. please proceed." Any movement of any kind on the part of the mind only gives strength to the continuance of thought, with its envious, ambitious, acquisitive pursuits. When the mind is totally aware of this fact, as it is totally aware of a poisonous snake, then you will see that the movement of thought comes to an end. Then only is there a total revolution, not the continuance of the old in a different form. This state is not to be described; he who describes it is not aware of it. "I really feel that I have understood, not just your words, but the total implication of what you have been saying. Whether I have understood or not will show in my daily life." COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES III CHAPTER 13"WHY SHOULD IT HAPPEN TO US?" SOMETHING WENT OFF with an explosive bang. It was half-past four in the morning, and still very dark. It wouldn't be dawn for an hour or more. The birds were still asleep in the trees, and the violent noise didn't seem to have disturbed them, but they would commence their quarrelsome chatter just as soon as it began to get light. There was a slight ground mist, but the stars were very clear. After the first explosion, several others followed in the distance; there was a period of quiet and then fireworks began going off all over the place. The festive day had begun. That morning, the birds didn't carry on with their chatter as long as usual, but cut it short and rapidly scattered, for those violent sounds were frightening; but towards evening they would assemble again in the same trees, to tell each other noisily of their daily doings. The sun was now touching the treetops, and they were aglow with soft light; lovely in their quietude, they were giving shape to the sky. The single rose in the garden was heavy with dew. Though it was already noisy with fireworks, the town was slow and leisurely about waking up, for it was one of the great holidays of the year; there would be feasting and rejoicing, and both rich and poor would be giving things to each other. As it grew dark that evening, the people began to assemble on the banks of the river. They were gently setting afloat on the water small, blunt-clay saucers full of oil, with a wick burning. They would say a prayer and let the lights go floating off down the river. Soon there were thousands of these points of light on the dark, still water. It was an astonishing sight to behold, the eager faces lit by the little flames, and the river a miracle of light. The heavens with their myriad stars looked down on this river of light, and the earth was silent with the love of the people. There were five of us in that sunlit room: a man and his wife, and two other men. All of them were young. The wife seemed sad and forlorn, and the husband also was grave not given to smiles. The two young men sat shyly silent and let the others begin, but they would doubtless speak when the occasion arose and when their shyness had worn off a bit. "But why should it happen to us?" she asked. There was resentment and anger in her voice, but tears were beginning to fill her eyes and trickle down her cheeks. "We had been good to our son; he was so gay and mischievous, always ready to laugh, and we loved him. We had brought him up so carefully, and had planned a rich life for him..." Unable to go on talking, she stopped and waited till she was a little calmer. "Excuse me for being so upset in front of you," she presently continued, "but it has all been too much for me. He was playing and shouting, and a few days later he was gone forever. It is very cruel, and why should it happen to us? We have led a decent life; we love each other, and we loved our boy even more. But he is gone now, and our life has become an empty thing - my husband in his office, and I in my house. It has all become so ugly and meaningless." She would have gone on and on in her bitterness, but her husband gently stopped her. She was sobbing now, without any restraint, and presently was silent." This happens to all of us, doesn't it? When you ask why it should happen to you you really don't mean that it should happen only to others and not to you. You share sorrow with the rest. "But what have we done to deserve it? What is our karma? Why didn't he live? I would gladly have given my life for him." Will any explanation, any cunning argument or rationalized belief, fill that aching void? "I naturally want to be comforted, but not by mere words, and not by some future hope. As a result I just can't find any comfort. My husband has tried to comfort me with the belief in reincarnation, but to no avail. And he too is suffering; even though he believes in reincarnation, sorrow is there. We are both caught up in it and twisted by it. It's like some frightening, hideous nightmare." Again her husband interfered to calm her rising feelings. "I will be quiet and thoughtful, and I am sorry." "Sir, we know so little of life, of death, so little of our own sorrow," said her husband. "Since this event I seem to have suddenly matured, and can now ask serious questions. Before, life was gay, and we were constantly laughing; but most of the things that made us happy seem now so silly, so trivial. It has been like a wind-storm that uproots trees and puts sand in one's food. Nothing will ever be the same again. Suddenly I find myself being dreadfully serious, wanting to know what it is all about and since our son's death I have read more religious and philosophical books than I read in all my earlier life; but when there's pain, mere words are not easy to accept. I know how easily belief becomes a slow poison. Belief dulls the sharp edge of thought, but it also dulls the pain, and without it the mind would become an open, sensitive wound. We came to hear you last evening. You gave us no comfort, which I see is right; but we still want to heal our wounds. Can you help us?" "The wound we all have," put in one of the other two, "is not to be healed by words, by a comforting phrase. We have come here, not to collect another belief, but to search out the cause of our pain." Do you think that merely knowing the cause will free you from pain? "If once I know what causes my inward pain, I can put an end to it. I won't eat something when I know it will poison me." Do you think it is such an easy matter to wipe away the inward wound? Let's go into it patiently, carefully. What is our problem? "My problem," the wife replied "is simple and clear. Why was my son taken away from me? What was the cause of it?" Will any explanation satisfy you, however comforting it may be for the moment? Haven't you to find out the truth of the matter for yourself? "How am I to set about it?" demanded the wife. "That's also one of my problems," said one of the other two. "How am I to find out what's true in this bewildering confusion which is the `me'?" "Was it our karma to suffer, to lose the one we most loved?" asked the husband. "Perhaps I might be able to bear the pain of my son's death," added the wife, "if I could just have the comfort of knowing why he was taken away." Comfort is one thing, and truth another; they lead away from each other. If you seek comfort, you may find it in an explanation, a drug or a belief; but it will be temporary, and sooner or later you will have to begin over again. And is there such a thing as comfort? It may be that you will first have to see this fact: that a mind which seeks comfort, security, will always be in sorrow. A satisfactory explanation, or a comforting belief, can put you soothingly to sleep; but is that what you want? Will that wipe away your sorrow? Is sorrow to be got rid of by inducing sleep? "I suppose what I really want," went on the wife, "is to get back into the happy state I once knew - to have again the joy and the pleasure of it. As I can't do that, I am torn with sorrow, and therefore seek comfort." Do you mean that you don't want to face the fact which you think causes sorrow, and so you try to escape from it? "Why shouldn't I be comforted?" But can you find lasting comfort? There may be no such thing. In seeking comfort, what we want is a state in which there will be no psychological disturbance whatsoever. And is there such a state? One may put together, by various means, a state of comfort, but life soon comes knocking at the door. This knocking at the door, this awakening, is called sorrow. "As you point this out, I see that it is so. But what am I to do?" insisted the wife. There is nothing to do but realize the truth of this fact, that a mind which seeks comfort security, will always be subject to sorrow. This realization is its own action. When a man realizes he's a prisoner, he doesn't ask what to do, but a whole series of actions, or inactions, come into being. From realization itself there is action. "But, sir," put in the husband, "our wounds are real, and can we not heal them? Is there no healing process at all, but only a state of bitter hopelessness?" The mind can cultivate any state it desires, but to find out the truth of this whole situation is quite another matter. Now, what is it that you are after? "No man in his senses would want to cultivate bitterness. There is certainly a philosophy of hopelessness, but I have no intention of pursuing that path. I do want to find out, however, what is the cause, the karma of our sorrow." Do you two also wish to go into this matter? "We most certainly do, sir. We have our own problems pertaining to the whole process of karma, and it would help us too if we could all consider it together." What is the root meaning of the word `karma'? "The root meaning of that word is `to act'," replied the husband, and the others nodded in agreement. "Karma, as it is generally -and I think wrongly - understood, is action as a determining cause. The future is fixed by past action; as you sow, so shall you reap. I have done something in the past for which I shall pay, or from which I shall gain. If my son dies young, it is due to some cause hidden in a past life. There are many variations on this one general formula." All things arise and have their being through the chain of causes and effects, do they not? "That seems to be a fact," replied one of the other two. "I am here in this world because of my father and mother and through other previous causes. I am a result of causes which stretch back infinitely into the past. Both thought and action are the result of various causes." Is effect separate from cause? Is there a gap, short or long, an interval of time between them? Is the cause fixed as well as the effect? If cause and effect are static, then the future is already established; and if this is so, there's no freedom for man, he's ever caught in a predetermined groove. But this is not so, as you can observe in everyday happenings, where circumstances are continuously influencing the course of actions. There is always a movement of change going on, whether immediate or gradual. "Yes, sir, I see that; and it is an immense relief to me, who have been brought up in the one-cause and one-effect conditioning, to realize that we need not be slaves to the past." The mind need not be held by its conditioning. The effect of a cause is not bound to follow the cause, it may be wiped away. There's no everlasting hell. Cause and effect are not static, fixed; what was the effect becomes the cause of still another effect. Today is shaped by yester- day, and tomorrow by today. That is true, is it not? So cause and effect are not separate, they are a unitary process. A wrong means cannot be used to a right end, because the means is the end; the one contains the other. The seed contains the total tree. If one really feels the truth of this, then thought is action, there is no thinking first followed by action, with the inevitable problem of how to build a bridge between them. The total awareness of cause and effect as an indivisible unit puts an end to the maker of effort, the `I' who's everlastingly becoming something through some means. "Are you not giving your own meaning to karma?" asked the husband. Either it is true, or it is false. What is true needs no interpretation, and what is interpreted is not true. The interpreter becomes a traitor, for he is merely offering his opinion, and opinion is not truth. "The books say that each one of us starts this life with a certain amount of accumulated karma which has to be worked out," went on the husband. "We are told that it is in the working out of this accumulated karma, whether in one life or through several lives, that there is the operation of free will. Is this so?" What do you think, apart from the authority of the books? "I don't feel able to think it out for myself." Let's consider the matter together. One's life in this present existence does start with a certain amount of conditioning, karma; every child is influenced by his environment to think within a certain pattern, and his future tends to be determined by this pattern. Either he follows, with a certain latitude, the dictates of the pattern, or he totally breaks away from it. In the latter case, that part of the mind which makes the effort to break away is also a result of conditioning, of karma; so in breaking away from one pattern, the mind creates another, in which it is again caught. "In that case, how can the mind ever be free? I see very clearly that the part of the mind that wishes to be free from the pattern, and the part that is caught in it, are both held, as it were, in a frame; the former thinks it is different from the latter, but essentially they have the same quality in that neither is totally free. Then what is freedom?" "Most people," put in one of the young men, "assert that there is a super-soul, the Atman, which will act upon our conditioning and wipe it away through devotion and good works, and through concentration on the Supreme." But the entity who is devoted, who does good works, is himself conditioned; and the Supreme on which he concentrates is a projection of his conditioning, is it not? "I see that," said the husband eagerly. "Our gods, our religious concepts our ideals, are all within the pattern of our conditioning. Now that you point it out, it seems so obvious and factual. But then there's no hope for man." To jump to a conclusion, and to start thinking from that conclusion, prevents understanding and any further discovery. When the totality of the mind realizes that it's held within a pattern, what takes place? "I don't quite understand your question, sir." Do you realize that the totality of your mind is conditioned, including the part that is supposed to be the super-soul, the Atman? Do you feel it, know it to be a fact, or are you merely accepting a verbal explanation? What is actually taking place? "I cannot definitely say, for I have never thought out this matter to the end." When the mind realizes the totality of its own conditioning -which it cannot do as long as it is merely pursuing its own comfort, or lazily taking the easy course - then all its movements come to an end; it is completely still, without any desire, without any compulsion, without any motive. Only then is there freedom. "But we have to live in this world, and whatever we do, from earning a livelihood to the most subtle inquiry of the mind, has some motive or other. Is there ever action without motive?" Don't you think there is? The action of love has no motive, and every other action has. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES III CHAPTER 14 'LIFE, DEATH AND SURVIVAL' IT WAS A magnificent old tamarind tree, full of fruit, and with tender new leaves. Growing by a deep river, it was well-watered, and it gave just the right amount of shade for animals and men. There was always some kind of bustle and noise going on under it, loud talking, or a calf calling for its mother. It was beautifully proportioned and against the blue sky its shape was splendid. It had ageless vitality. It must have witnessed many things as through countless summers it watched the river and the goings-on along its banks. It was an interesting river, wide and holy, and pilgrims came from all parts of the country to bathe in its sacred waters. There were boats on it, moving silently, with dark, square sails. When the moon rose full and almost red, making a silvery path on the dancing waters, there would be rejoicing in the neighboring village, and in the village across the river. On holy days the villagers came down to the water's edge, singing joyous, lilting songs. Bringing their food, with much chattering and laughter, they would bathe in the river; then they would put a garland at the foot of the great tree and red and yellow ashes around its trunk, for it too was sacred, as all trees are. When at last the chatter and shouting had ceased and everyone had gone home, a lamp or two would remain burning, left by some pious villager; these lamps consisted of a homemade wick in a little terracotta saucer of oil which the villager could ill afford. Then the tree was supreme; all things were of it: the earth, the river, the people and the stars. presently it would withdraw into itself, to slumber till touched by the first rays of the morning sun. Often they would bring a dead body to the edge of the river. Sweeping the ground close to the water, they would first put down heavy logs as a foundation for the pyre, and then build it up with lighter wood; and on the top they would place the body, covered with a new white cloth. The nearest relative would then put a burning torch to the pyre, and huge flames would leap up in the darkness, lighting the water and the silent faces of the mourners and friends who sat around the fire. The tree would gather some of the light, and give its peace to the dancing flames. It took several hours for the body to be consumed but they would all sit around till there was nothing left except bright embers and little tongues of flame. In the midst of this enormous silence, a baby would suddenly begin to cry, and a new day would have begun. He had been a fairly well-known man. He lay dying in the small house behind the wall, and the little garden, once cared for, was now neglected. He was surrounded by his wife and children, and by other near relatives. It might be some months, or even longer, before he passed away, but they were all around him, and the room was heavy with grief. As I came in he asked them all to go away, and they reluctantly left, except a little boy who was playing with some toys on the floor. When they had gone out, he waved me to a chair and we sat for some time without saying a word, while the noises of the household and the street crowded into the room. He spoke with difficulty. "You know, I have thought a great deal for a number of years about living and even more about dying, for I have had a protracted illness. Death seems such a strange thing. I have read various books dealing with this problem, but they were all rather superficial." Aren't all conclusions superficial? "I am not so sure. If one could arrive at certain conclusions that were deeply satisfying, they would have some significance. What's wrong with arriving at conclusions, so long as they are satisfying?" There's nothing wrong with it, but doesn't it trace a deceptive horizon? The mind has the power to create every form of illusion, and to be caught in it seems so unnecessary and immature. "I have lived a fairly rich life, and have followed what I thought to be my duty; but of course I am human. Anyway, that life is all over now, and here I am a useless thing; but fortunately my mind has not yet been affected. I have read much, and I am still as eager as ever to know what happens after death. Do I continue, or is there nothing left when the body dies?" Sir, if one may ask, why are you so concerned to know what happens after death? "Doesn't everyone want to know?" Probably they do; but if we don't know what living is, can we ever know what death is? Living and dying may be the same thing, and the fact that we have separated them may be the source of great sorrow. "I am aware of what you have said about all this in your talks, but still I want to know. Won't you please tell me what happens after death? I won't repeat it to anyone." Why are you struggling so hard to know? Why don't you allow the whole ocean of life and death to be, without poking a finger into it? "I don't want to die," he said, his hand holding my wrist. "I have always been afraid of death; and though I have tried to console myself with rationalizations and beliefs, they have only acted as a thin veneer over this deep agony of fear. All my reading about death has been an effort to escape from this fear, to find a way out of it and it is for the same reason that I am begging to know now." Will any escape free the mind from fear? Does not the very act of escaping breed fear? "But you can tell me, and what you say will be true. This truth will liberate me..." We sat silently for a while. presently he spoke again. "That silence was more healing than all my anxious questioning. I wish I could remain in it and quietly pass away, but my mind won't let me. My mind has become the hunter as well as the hunted; I am tortured. I have acute physical pain, but it's nothing compared to what's going on in my mind. Is there an identified continuity after death? This me which has enjoyed, suffered, known - will it continue?" What is this `me' that your mind clings to, and that you want to be continued? please don't answer, but quietly listen, will you? The `me' exists only through identification with property, with a name, with the family, with failures and successes, with all the things you have been and want to be. You are that with which you have identified yourself; you are made up of all that, and without it, you are not. It is this identification with people, property and ideas, that you want to be continued, even beyond death; and is it a living thing? Or is it just a mass of contradictory desires, pursuits, fulfilments and frustrations with sorrow outweighing joy? "It may be what you suggest, but it's better than not knowing anything at all." Better the known than the unknown, is that it? But the known is so small, so petty, so confining. The known is sorrow, and yet you crave for its continuance. "Think of me, be compassionate, don't be so unyielding. If only I knew, I could die happily." Sir, don't struggle so hard to know. When all effort to know ceases, then there is something which the mind has not put together. The unknown is greater than the known; the known is but as a barque on the ocean of the unknown. Let all things go and be. His wife came in just then to give him something to drink, and the child got up and ran out of the room without looking at us. He told his wife to close the door as she went out and not to let the boy come in again. "I am not worried about my family; their future is cared for. It's with my own future that I am concerned. I know in my heart that what you say is true, but my mind is like a galloping horse without a rider. Will you help me, or am I beyond all help?" Truth is a strange thing; the more you pursue it, the more it will elude you. You cannot capture it by any means, however subtle and cunning; you cannot hold it in the net of your thought. Do realize this, and let everything go. On the journey of life and death, you must walk alone; on this journey there can be no taking of comfort in knowledge, in experience, in memories. The mind must be purged of all the things it has gathered in its urge to be secure; its gods and virtues must be given back to the society that bred them. There must be complete, uncontaminated aloneness. "My days are numbered my breath is short, and you are asking a very hard thing: that I die without knowing what death is. But I am well instructed. Let be my life, and may there be a blessing upon it." COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES III CHAPTER 15 'DETERIORATION OF THE MIND' ALONG THE TOP of the long, wide bend in the river was the town, very holy and very dirty. The river made a big sweep here, and its main force struck the edge of the town, often washing away the steps leading down to the water, and some of the old houses. But whatever damage it did in its fury, the river still remained holy and beautiful. It was particularly beautiful that evening, with the sun setting below the dark town, and behind the single minaret, which seemed to be the reaching up of the whole town towards the heavens. The clouds were golden-red, aflame with the brilliance of a sun that had travelled over a land of intense beauty and sadness. And as the brilliance faded, there, over the dark town was the new moon, tender and delicate. From the opposite shore, some distance down the river, the whole enchanting sight seemed magical, yet perfectly natural, without a touch of artificiality. Slowly the young moon went down behind the dark mass of the town, and lights began to appear; but the river still held the light of the evening sky, a golden splendour of incredible softness. On this light, which was the river, there were hundreds of small fishing boats. All afternoon thin, dark men with long poles had been laboriously poling their way upstream against the current, in single file close to the bank; starting at the fishing village below the town, each man in his boat, sometimes with a child or two had pushed slowly up the river past the long, heavy bridge, and now they were coming down by the hundreds, carried by the strong current. They would be flashing all night, catching big, heavy fish, ten to fifteen inches long, which would afterwards be dumped, some of them still writhing, into larger boats tied up along the bank, to be sold the next day. The streets of the town were crowded with bullock carts, buses, cycles, and pedestrians, with here and there a cow or two. Narrow lanes, lined with dimly-lit shops and winding endlessly in and out, were muddy with the recent rains, and filthy with the dirt of man and beast. One of the lanes led to the wide steps which descended to the very edge of the river, and on these steps everything was going on. Some people were sitting close to the water, with eyes shut, in silent meditation; next to them a man was chanting in front of an enthusiastic crowd, which extended far up the steps; further on, a leprous beggar held out his withered hand, while a man with ashes on his forehead and matted hair was instructing the people. Nearby a sannyasi, clean of face and skin, with newly - washed robes, sat motionless, his eyes closed his mind intent with long and easy practice. A man with cupped hand was silently begging the heavens to fill it; and a mother, her left breast bare, was suckling her baby, oblivious of everything. Further down the river, dead bodies, brought from the neighboring villages and from the sprawling, dirty town, were being burnt in great, roaring fires. Here everything was going on, for this was the most holy and sacred of towns. But the beauty of the still-flowing river seemed to wipe away all the chaos of man, while the heavens above him looked down with love and wonder. There were several of us, two women and four men. One of the women, with a good head and sharp eyes, had been very well educated at home and abroad; the other was more modest with a sorrowful, begging look. One of the men, an ex-Communist who had left the party several years ago, was forceful and demanding; another was an artist, shy and retiring, but bold enough to assert himself when the occasion demanded; the third was an official in the governmental bureaucracy; and the fourth was a teacher, very gentle, with a swift smile, and eager to learn. Everyone was silent for a while, and presently the former Communist spoke. "Why is there so much deterioration in every department of life? I can understand how power, even in the name of the people, is essentially evil and corrupting, as you have pointed out. One sees this fact demonstrated in history. The seed of evil and corruption is inher- ent in all political and religious organizations, as has been shown in the church through the centuries, and in modern Communism, which promised so much but which has itself become corrupt and tyrannical. Why does everything have to deteriorate in this way?" "We know so much about so many things," added the well educated lady, "but knowledge does not seem to arrest the dry-rot that is in man. I write a little, and have had a book or two published, but I see how easily the mind can go to pieces when once it has caught the knack of a thing. Learn the technique of good expression, dig up a few interesting or exciting themes, get into the habit of writing, and you are set for life; you become popular, and you are done for. I am not saying this out of any malice or bitterness because I am a failure, or only an indifferent success, but because I see this process operating in others and in myself. We don't seem to get away from the corrosion of routine and capacity. To get something started demands energy and initiative, but once started the seed of corruption is inherent in it. Can one ever escape from this corruptive process?" "I too," said the bureaucrat, "am caught in the routine of decay. We plan for the future of five or ten years from now, we build dams and encourage new industries, all of which is good and necessary; but even though the dams may be beautifully built and perfectly maintained, and the machines made to function with a minimum of inefficiency, our thinking, on the other hand, becomes more and more inefficient, stupid and lazy. The computers and other complex electronic gadgets outdo man at every turn, yet without man they could not exist. The plain fact is, a few brains are active, creative and the rest of us live on them, rotting and often rejoicing in our rot." "I am only a teacher but I am interested in a different kind of education - an education which will prevent the setting-in of this dry-rot of the mind. At present we `educate' a living human being to become some stupid bureaucrat - forgive me - with a big job and a handsome salary, or with a clerk's pay and a still more miserable existence. I know what I am talking about, because I am caught in it. But apparently this is the kind of education the governments want, for they are pouring money into it, and every so-called educator, including myself, is aiding and abetting this rapid deterioration of man. Will a better method or technique put an end to this deterioration? please believe me, sir, I am very serious in asking this question, I am not asking it just for the sake of talking. I have read recent books on edu- cation, and invariably they deal with some method or other; and since hearing you, I have begun to question the whole thing." "I am an artist of sorts, and one or two museums have bought my things. Unfortunately, I shall have to be personal which I hope the others won't mind, for their problem is also mine. I may paint for a time, then turn to pottery, and then do some sculpturing. It is the same urge expressing itself in different ways. Genius is this force, this extraordinary feeling that must be given form, not the man or the medium through which it expresses itself. I may not be putting it properly, but you know what I mean. It is this creative power that has to be kept alive potent, under tremendous pressure, like steam in a boiler. There are periods when one feels this power; and having once tasted it, nothing on earth can prevent one from wanting to recapture it. From then on, one is in torture, ever dissatisfied, because that flame is never constant, never there completely. Therefore it has to be fed, nourished; and every feeding makes it more feeble, less and less complete. So the flame gradually dies, though the flair and technique carry on, and one may become famous. The gesture remains, but love has gone the heart is dead; and so deterioration sets in." Deterioration is the central factor - is it not? - whatever may be the way of our life. The artist may feel it in one way, and the teacher in another; but if we are at all aware of others, and of our own mental processes, it is fairly obvious with the old and with the young, that deterioration of the mind does take place. Deterioration seems to be inherent in the very activities of the mind itself. As a machine wears itself out through use, so the mind seems to worsen through its own action. "We all know this," said the educated lady. "The fire the creative force fades away after one or two spurts, but the capacity remains, and this ersatz creativity becomes in time a substitute for the real thing. We know this only too well. My question is, how can that creative something remain without losing its beauty and force?" What are the factors of deterioration? If one knew them, perhaps it might be possible to put an end to them. "Are there any specific factors clearly to be pointed out?" asked the former party member. "Deterioration may be inherent in the very nature of the mind." The mind is a product of the society, of the culture in which it has been brought up; and as society is always in a state of corruption, al- ways destroying itself from within, a mind that continues to be influenced by society must also be in a state of corruption or deterioration. Isn't that so? "Of course; and it is because we perceived this fact," explained the ex-Communist, "that some of us worked hard and rather brutally, I'm afraid, to create a new and rigid pattern according to which we felt society should function. Unfortunately a few corrupt individuals seized power, and we all know the result." May it not be, sir, that deterioration is inevitable when a pattern is created for the individual and collective life of man? By what authority, other than the cunning authority of power, has any individual or group the right to create the all-knowing pattern for man? The church has done it, by the power of fear, flattery and promise, and has made a prisoner of man. "I thought I knew, as the priest thinks he knows, what is the right manner of life for man; but now, along with many others, I see what stupid arrogance that is. The fact remains, however that deterioration is our lot; and can anyone escape from it?" "Can we not educate the young," asked the teacher, "to be so aware of the factors of corruption and deterioration, that they will instinctively avoid them, as they would avoid the plague?" Aren't we going round and round the subject without getting at it? Let us consider it together. We know that our minds deteriorate in different ways, according to our individual temperaments. Now, can one put an end to this process? And what do we mean by the word `deterioration'? Let us go slowly into it. Is deterioration a state of mind that's known through comparison with an incorruptible state which the mind has momentarily experienced and is now living in the memory of, hoping by some means to revive it? Is it the state of a mind that is frustrated in its desire for success, self-fulfilment, and so on? Has the mind tried and failed to become something, and does it therefore feel itself to be deteriorating? "It's all of that," said the educated lady. "At least, I seem to be in one, if not all, of the states you have just described." When did that flame of which you were speaking earlier come into being? "It came unexpectedly, without my seeking it, and when it went away, I was unable to get it back. Why do you ask?" It came when you were not seeking it; it came neither through your desire for success, nor through the longing for that intoxicating sense of elation. Now that it has gone, you are pursuing it, because it gave momentary meaning to a life that otherwise had no meaning; and as you cannot recapture it, you feel that deterioration has set in. Isn't that so? "I think it is - not only with me, but with most of us. The clever ones build a philosophy round the memory of that experience, and thereby catch innocent people in their net." Doesn't all this point to something which may be the central and dominant factor of deterioration? "Do you mean ambition?" That's only one facet of the accumulating core: this purposive, self-centred focus of energy which is the `me' the ego, the censor, the experiencer who judges the experience. May it not be that this is the central the only factor of deterioration? "Is it a self-centred, egotistic activity," asked the artist, "to realize what one's life is without that creative intoxication? I can hardly believe it." It's not a matter of credulity or belief. Let's consider it further. That creative state came into being without your invitation, it was there without your seeking it. Now that it has faded away and become a thing remembered, you want to revive it, which you have tried to do through various forms of stimulation. You may occasionally have touched the hem of it, the outer edges of it, but that's not enough, and you are ever hungering after it, Now, is not all craving, even for the highest, an activity of the self? Is it not self-concern? "It seems so, when you put it that way," conceded the artist. "But it is craving in one form or another that motivates us all, from the austere saint to the lowly peasant." "Do you mean," asked the teacher, "that all self-improvement is egotistic? Is every effort to improve society a self-centred activity? Is not education a matter of self-expansive improvement, of making progress in the right direction? Is it selfish to conform to a better pattern of society?" Society is always in a state of degeneration. There is no perfect society. The perfect society may exist in theory, but not in actuality. Society is based on human relationship motivated by greed, envy, acquisitiveness, fleeting joy, the pursuit of power, and so on. You can't improve envy; envy has to cease. To put a civilized coating on violence through the double talk of ideals, is not to bring violence to an end. To educate a student to conform to society is only to encourage in him the deteriorating urge to be secure. Climbing the ladder of success, becoming somebody gaining recognition - this is the very substance of our degenerating social structure and to be part of it is to deteriorate. "Are you suggesting," inquired the teacher rather anxiously, "that one must renounce the world and become a hermit, a sannyasi?" It's comparatively easy, and in its way profitable, to renounce the outward world of home, family, name, property; but it's quite another matter to put an end - without any motive, without the promise of a happy future - to the inner world of ambition, power, achievement, and really to be as nothing. Man begins at the wrong end with things, and so ever remains in confusion. Begin at the right end; start near to go far. "Must not a definite practice be adopted to put an end to this deterioration, this inefficiency and laziness of the mind?" asked the government official." Practice or discipline implies an incentive, the gaining of an end; and isn't this a self-centred activity? Becoming virtuous is a process of self-interest, leading to respectability. When you cultivate in yourself a state of non-violence, you are still violent under a different name. Besides all this, there is another degenerating factor: effort, in all its subtle forms. This doesn't mean that one is advocating laziness. "Good heavens, sir, you are certainly taking everything away from us!" exclaimed the official. "And when you take everything away, what's left of us? Nothing!" Creativeness is not a process of becoming or achieving, but a state of being in which self-seeking effort is totally absent. When the self makes an effort to be absent, the self is present. All effort on the part of this complex thing called the mind must cease, without any motive or inducement. "That means death doesn't it?" Death to all that's known which is the `me'. It is only when the totality of the mind is still, that the creative, the nameless, comes into being. "What do you mean by the mind?" asked the artist. The conscious as well as the unconscious; the hidden recesses of the heart as well as the educated bits of the mind. "I have listened," said the silent lady, "and my heart understands." COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES III CHAPTER 16 'THE FLAME OF DISCONTENT' IN THE EARLY morning sunlight, the leaves of the tree just outside the window were making dancing shadows on the white wall of the room. There was a gentle breeze, and these shadows were never still; they were as alive as the leaves themselves. One or two moved gently, with grace and ease, but the motion of the others was violent, jerky and restless. The sun had just come up from behind a deep-wooded hill. The day was not going to be hot, for the breeze was blowing from the snowy mountains to the north. At that early hour, there was a strange quietness - the quietness of the slumbering earth before man begins his toil. Within this quietness were the screeches of the parrots flying crazily to the fields and woods; within it were the raucous calls of the crows and the chatter of many birds; within it were the distant hoots of a train, and the blast of a factory whistle announcing the hour. It was the hour when the mind is as open as the heavens and as vulnerable as love. The road was very crowded, and the people walking on it were paying scant attention to the vehicular traffic; they would smilingly step aside, but first they had to look around to see who was making so much noise behind them. There were cycles, buses and bullock carts, and men drawing lighter carts loaded with sacks of grain. The shops, selling everything that man could want from needles to motorcars, were spilling over with people. This same road led through the wealthy part of the city, with its usual aloofness and tidiness, into the open country; and not far out was the famous tomb. You left the car at the outer entrance, and went up a few steps, through an open archway, into a well-kept and watered garden. Walking along a sandy path and up more steps, you passed through another archway, blue with tiles, and entered an inner garden with a wall completely around it. It was enormous; there were acres of luscious, green lawns, lovely trees and fountains. It was cool in the shade, and the sound of falling water was pleasant. The circular path that went along the wall on the edge of the lawn had a border of brilliant flowers, and it would have taken quite a while to walk around it. Following the path that cut across the lawn, you wondered how so much space and beauty and work could be given to a tomb. presently you climbed a long flight of steps, which opened on a vast platform covered with slabs of reddish-brown sandstone. On this platform rose the stately tomb. It was built of smooth, polished marble, and the single marble coffin within it shone with the soft light of the sun that filtered through the intricately latticed marble window. It seemed lonely in its peace, though surrounded with grandeur and beauty. From the platform you could see where the ancient town, with its domes and gateways, met the new, with its steel pylons for the radio broadcasting station. It was strange to see the coming together of the old and the new, and the impact of it stirred your whole being. It was as though the past and the present of all life lay before you as a simple fact, without the interference of the censor and his choice. The blue horizon stretched far away beyond the city and the woods; it would always remain, while the new became the old. There were three of them, all quite young, a brother, a sister and a friend. Well dressed and very well educated they spoke several languages easily, and could talk of the latest books. It was strange to see them in that bare room; there were only two chairs, and one of the young men had to sit uncomfortably on the floor, spoiling the crease in his well pressed trousers. A sparrow that had its nest just outside suddenly appeared on the sill of the open window but seeing the new faces, it fluttered and flew away again. "We have come to talk over a rather personal problem," explained the brother, "and we hope you don't mind. May I plunge into it? You see, my sister is going through a beastly time. She feels shy about explaining it, so I am doing the talking for the moment. We like each other very much, and have been almost inseparable ever since we were youngsters. There is nothing unhealthy about our being together, but she has been twice married and twice divorced. We have been through it all together. The husbands were all right in their way, but I am concerned about my sister. We consulted a well known psychiatrist, but somehow it didn't work out. We needn't go into all that now. Though I had never met you personally, I had known about you for several years, and had read some of your published talks; so I persuaded my sister and our mutual friend to come along with me, and here we are. "He hesitated for a few moments, and then went on. "Our difficulty is that my sister doesn't seem to be satisfied with anything. Literally nothing gives her any sort of satisfaction or content- ment. Discontent has become almost a mania with her, and if something isn't done, she's going to crack up completely." Isn't it a good thing to be discontented? "To some extent, yes," he replied; "but there are limits to everything, and this is going too far." What's wrong with being totally discontented? What we generally call discontent is the dissatisfaction which arises when a particular desire is not fulfilled. Isn't that so? "Perhaps; but my sister has tried so many things, including these two marriages, and she hasn't been happy in either of them. Fortunately, there have been no children, which would have further complicated matters. But I think she can speak for herself now; I only wanted to set the ball rolling." What is contentment, and what is discontent? Will discontent lead to contentment? Being discontented, can you ever find the other? "Nothing really satisfies me," said the sister. "We are well off, but the things that money can buy have lost their meaning. I have read a great deal but as I'm sure you know it doesn't lead anywhere. I have dabbled in various religious doctrines, but they all seem so utterly phoney; and what have you left after that? I have thought about it a great deal, and I know it isn't for want of children that I am like this. If I had children, I would give them my love, and all that kind of thing, but this torment of discontent would certainly go on. I can't find a way of directing or channelizing it, as most people seem to do, into some absorbing activity or interest. Then it would be easy sailing; there would be an occasional squall, which is inevitable in life, but one would always be within reach of calm waters. I feel as though I were in a perpetual storm, without any safe port. I want to find some comfort, somewhere; but, as I said what the religions have to offer seems to me so utterly stupid, nothing but a lot of superstitions. Everything else, including worship of the State, is only a rational substitute for the real thing -and I don't know what the real thing is. I have tried various entertaining side issues, including the current philosophy of hopelessness in France, but I am left empty handed. I have even experimented with taking one or two of the latest drugs; but that, of course, is the ultimate act of despair. One might just as well commit suicide. Now you know all about it." "If I may put in a word," said the friend, "it seems to me that the whole thing would be resolved if she could only find something that really interested her. If she had a vital interest that occupied her mind and her life, then this discontent that is eating her up would disappear. I have known this lady and her brother for many years, and I keep telling her that her misery arises from not having something that will take her mind off herself. But nobody pays much attention to what is said by an old friend." May I ask, why shouldn't you be discontented? Why shouldn't you be consumed by discontent? And what do you mean by that word? "It is a pain, an agonizing anxiety, and naturally one wants to get out of it. It would be a form of sadism to want to remain in it. After all, one should be able to live happily, and not be ceaselessly driven by the pain of dissatisfaction." I am not saying that you should enjoy the pain of it, or merely put up with it; but why should you try to escape from it through an interesting occupation, or through some other form of abiding satisfaction? "Isn't that a most natural thing to do?" asked the friend. "If you are in pain, you want to get rid of it." We are not understanding each other. What do we mean by being discontented? We are not inquiring into the mere verbal or explanatory meaning of that word, nor are we seeking the causes of discontent. We shall come to the causes presently. What we are trying to do, is to examine the state of the mind that is caught in the pain of discontent. "In other words, what is my mind doing when it is discontented? I don't know, I have never before asked myself that question. Let me see. But first of all, have I understood the question?" "I think I see what you are asking, sir," put in the brother. "What is the feeling of the mind that is in the throes of discontent? Isn't that it?" Something like that. A feeling is extraordinary in itself - is it not? - apart from its pleasure or pain. "But can there be any feeling at all," asked the sister, "if it is not identified with pleasure or pain?" Does identification bring about feeling? Can there be no feeling without identification, without naming? We may come to that question presently; but again, what do we mean by discontent? Does discontent exist by itself, as an isolated feeling, or is it related to something? "It is always related to some other factor, to some urge, desire or want, isn't it?" said the friend. "There must always be a cause; discontent is only a symptom. We want to be or to acquire something, and if for any reason we cannot we become discontented. I think this is the source of her discontent." Is it? "I don't know, I haven't thought that far," replied the sister. Don't you know why you are discontented? Is it because you haven't found anything in which you can lose yourself? And if you did find some interest or activity with which you could completely occupy your mind would the pain of discontent go? Is it that you want to be contented? "God, no!" she exploded. "That would be terrible, that would be stagnation." But isn't that what you are seeking? You may have a horror of being contented, yet in wanting to be free of discontent, you are pursuing a very superior kind of contentment, aren't you? "I don't think I want contentment; but I do want to be free from this endless misery of discontent." Are the two desires different? Most people are discontented, but they generally tame it by finding something which gives them satisfaction, and then they function mechanically and go to seed, or they become bitter, cynical, and so on. Is that what you are after? "I don't want to become cynical, or just go to seed, that would be too stupid; I only want to find a way to soften the ache of this uncertainty." The ache exists only when you resist uncertainty, when you want to be free of it. "Do you mean I must remain in this state?" Please listen. You condemn the state you are in; your mind is opposing it. Discontent is a flame that must be kept burning brightly, and not be smothered by some interest or activity that is pursued as a reaction from the pain of it. Discontent is painful only when it is resisted. A man who is merely satisfied, without understanding the full significance of discontent, is asleep; he is not sensitive to the whole movement of life. Satisfaction is a drug, and it is comparatively easy to find. But to understand the full significance of discontent, the search for certainty must cease. "It is difficult not to want to be certain about something." Apart from mechanical certainties, is there any certainty at all, any psychological permanency? Or is there only impermanency? All relationship is impermanent; all thought, with its symbols, ideals, projections, is impermanent, property is lost, and even life itself ends in death, in the unknown, though man builds a thousand cunning structures of belief to overcome it. We separate life from death, and so both remain unknown. Contentment and discontent are like the two sides of one coin. To be free from the ache of discontent, the mind must cease to seek contentment. "Then is there no fulfilment?" Self-fulfilment is a vain pursuit, isn't it? In the very fulfilment of the self, there is fear and disappointment. That which is gained becomes ashes; but we again struggle to gain, and again we are caught in sorrow. If once we are aware of this total process, then self-fulfilment in any direction, at any level, has no significance at all. "Then to struggle against discontent is to smother the flame of life," she concluded. "I think I understand the meaning of what you have been saying." COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES III CHAPTER 17 'OUTWARD MODIFICATION AND INWARD DISINTEGRATION' THE TRAIN SOUTH was very crowded, but more people were squeezing in, with their bundles and their trunks. They were dressed in every kind of way. Some wore heavy overcoats, while others had hardly anything on, even though it was quite cold. There were long coats and tight chudidars, sloppily tied turbans and turbans that were neatly tied and of different colours. When everybody had more or less settled down, the shouts could be heard of the vendors on the station platform. They were selling almost everything: soda water, cigarettes, magazines, peanuts, tea and coffee, sweets and cooked things, toys, rugs - and, strangely enough, a flute, made of polished bamboo. Its vendor was playing upon a similar one, and it had a sweet tone. It was an excited and noisy crowd. Many people had come to see off a man who must have been a fairly important person, for he was weighed down with garlands, which had a goodly smell amidst the acrid smoke of the engine and the other unpleasant odors associated with railroad stations. Two or three people were helping an old woman get into a compartment, for she was rather stout and insisted on carrying her own heavy bundle. An infant was screaming at the top of its voice, while the mother was trying to hold it to her breast. A bell rang, the engine whistle screeched, and the train began to move, not to stop again for several hours. It was beautiful country, and the dew was still on the fields and on the leaves of the spreading trees. We ran for some distance beside a full-flowing river and the countryside seemed to open out into endless beauty and life. Here and there were small, smoky villages, with cattle roaming about the fields, or pulling water from a well. A boy clad in dirty rags was driving two or three cows before him along a path; he waved, smiling, as the train roared by. On that morning the sky was intensely blue, the trees were washed and the fields well-watered by the recent rains and the people were going about their work; but it wasn't for this reason that heaven was very close to the earth. There was in the air a feeling of something sacred, to which one's whole being responded. The quality of the blessing was strange and healing; the solitary man walking along that road, and the hovel by the wayside, were bathed in it. You would never find it in churches, temples or mosques, for these are handmade and their gods hand-wrought. But there in the open country, and in that rattling train, was the inexhaustible life, a blessing that can neither be sought nor given. It was there for the taking, like that small yellow flower springing up so close to the rails. The people in the train were chatting and laughing, or reading their morning paper, but it was there among them, and among the tender, growing things of the early spring. It was there, immense and simple, the love which no book can reveal, and which the mind cannot touch. It was there on that wondrous morning, the very life of life. There were eight of us in the room, which was pleasantly dark, but only two or three took part in the conversation. Just outside they were cutting the grass; someone was sharpening a scythe and the children's voices came into the room. Those who had come were very much in earnest. They all worked hard in various ways for the betterment of society, and not for outward, personal gain; but vanity is a strange thing, it hides under the cloak of virtue and respectability. "The institution we represent is disintegrating," began the oldest one; "it has been sinking for the past several years, and we must do something to stop this disintegration. It is so easy to destroy an organ- ization, but so very difficult to build it up and maintain it. We have faced many crises, and somehow we have always managed to survive them, bruised, but still able to function. Now, however, we have reached a point where we have to do something drastic; but what? That is our problem." What needs to be done depends on the symptoms of the patient, and upon those who are responsible for the patient. "We know very well the symptoms of disintegration, they are all too obvious. Though outwardly the institution is recognized and flourishing, inwardly it is rotting. Our workers are what they are; we have had our differences, but have managed to pull along together for more years than I care to remember. If we were satisfied with mere outward appearances, we would consider all to be well; but those of us who are on the inside, know there is a decline." You and others who have built up and are responsible for this institution, have made it what it is; you are the institution. And disintegration is inherent in every institution, in every society or culture, is it not? "That is so," agreed another. "As you say, the world is of our own making; the world is us, and we are the world. To change the world, we must change ourselves. This institution is part of the world; as we rot, so do the world and the institution. Regeneration must therefore begin with ourselves. The trouble is, sir, that life to us is not a total process; we act at different levels, each in contradiction with the others. This institution is one thing, and we are another. We are managers, presidents, secretaries, the top officials by whom the institution is run. We don't regard it as our own life; it is something apart from us, something to be managed and reformed. When you say that the organization is what we are we admit it verbally, but not inwardly; we are concerned with operating upon the institution, and not upon ourselves." Do you see that you are in need of an operation? "I see that we are in need of a drastic operation," said the oldest one; "but who is to be the surgeon?" Each one of us is the surgeon and the patient; there is no outside authority who is going to wield the knife. The very perception of the fact that an operation is necessary sets in motion an action which will in itself be the operation. But if there's to be an operation, it means considerable disturbance, disharmony, for the patient has to stop living in a routine manner. Disturbance is inevitable. To avoid all disturbance of things as they are is to have the harmony of the graveyard, which is well-kept and orderly, but full of buried putrefaction. "But is it possible, being constituted as we are, to operate upon ourselves?" Sir, by asking that question, are you not building a wall of resistance which prevents the operation from taking place? Thus you are unconsciously allowing deterioration to continue. "I want to operate upon myself, but I don't seem able to do it." When you try to operate upon yourself, there is no operation at all. Making an effort to stop deterioration is another way of avoiding the fact; it is to allow deterioration to go on. Sir, you don't really want an operation; you want to tinker, to improve outward appearances with little changes here and there. You want to reform, to cover the rot with gold in order that you may have the world and the institution you desire. But we are all getting old, and we are going to die. I am not foisting this on you; but why don't you remove your hand and let there be an operation? Clean, healthy blood will flow if you don't hinder it. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES III CHAPTER 18 'TO CHANGE SOCIETY YOU MUST BREAK AWAY FROM IT' THE SEA WAS very calm that morning, more so than usual, for the wind from the south had ceased blowing, and before the north-easterly winds began, the sea was taking a rest. The sands were bleached by the sun and salt water, and there was a strong smell of ozone, mixed with that of seaweed. There wasn't anyone yet on the beach, and one had the sea to oneself. Large crabs, with one claw much bigger than the other, moved slowly about, watching, with the large claw waving in the air. There were also smaller crabs, the usual kind, that raced to the lapping water, or darted into round holes in the wet sand. Hundreds of seagulls stood about, resting and preening themselves. The rim of the sun was just coming out of the sea, and it made a golden path on the still waters. Everything seemed to be waiting for this moment - and how quickly it would pass! The sun continued to climb out of the sea, which was as quiet as a sheltered lake in some deep woods. No woods could contain these waters, they were too restless, too strong and vast; but that morning they were mild, friendly and inviting. Under a tree above the sands and the blue water, there was going on a life independent of the crabs, the salt water and the seagulls. Large, black ants darted about, not making up their minds where to go. They would go up the tree, then suddenly scurry down for no apparent reason. Two or three would impatiently stop, move their heads about, and then, with a fierce burst of energy, go all over a piece of wood which they must have examined hundreds of times before; they would investigate it again with eager curiosity, and lose interest in it a second later. It was very quiet under the tree, though everything about one was very much alive. There was not a breath of air stirring among the leaves but every leaf was abundant with the beauty and light of the morning. There was an intensity about the tree - not the terrible intensity of reaching, of succeeding, but the intensity of being complete, simple, alone and yet part of the earth. The colours of the leaves, of the few flowers, of the dark trunk, were intensified a thousandfold, and the branches seemed to sustain the heavens. It was incredibly clear, bright and alive in the shade of that single tree. Meditation is an intensification of the mind which is in the fullness of silence. The mind is not still like some tamed, frightened or disciplined animal; it is still as the waters are still many fathoms down. The stillness there is not like that on the surface when the winds die. This stillness has a life and a movement of its own which is related to the outer flow of life, but is untouched by it. Its intensity is not that of some powerful machine which has been put together by cunning, capable hands; it is as simple and natural as love, as lightning, as a full-flowing river. He said he had been in politics up to his ears. He had done the usual things to climb the ladder of success - cultivated the right people, got on familiar terms with the leaders who had themselves climbed the very same ladder - and his climbed had been rapid. He had been sent abroad on many of the important committees, and was regarded with respect by those who count; for he was sincere and incorruptible albeit as ambitious as the rest of them. Added to all this he was well-read, and words came easily to him. But now, by some fortunate chance, he was tired of this game of helping the country by boosting himself and becoming a very important person. He was tired of it, not because he couldn't climb any higher, but because, through a natural process of intelligence, he had come to see that man's deep betterment does not lie entirely in planning, in efficiency, in the scramble for power. So he had thrown it all overboard, and was beginning to consider anew the whole of life. What do you mean by the whole of life? "I have spent many years on a branch of the river, as it were, and I want to spend the remaining years of my life on the river itself. Although I enjoyed every minute of the political struggle, I am not leaving politics regretfully; and now I wish to contribute to the betterment of society from my heart and not from the evercalculating mind. What I take from society must be returned to it at least tenfold." If one may ask, why are you thinking in terms of giving and taking? "I have taken so much from society; and all that it has given me I must give back to it many times." What do you owe to society? "Everything I have: my bank account, my education my name-Oh, so many things!" In actuality, you have not taken anything from society, because you are part of it. If you were a separate entity, unconnected with society, then you could give back what you have taken. But you are part of society, part of the culture which has put you together. You can return borrowed money; but what can you give back to society as long as you are part of society? "Because of society I have money, food, clothing, shelter, and I must do something in return. I have profited by my gathering within the framework of society, and it would be ungrateful of me to turn my back on it. I must do some good work for society - good work in the large sense, and not as a `do-gooder'." I understand what you mean; but even if you returned all you have gathered, would that absolve you from your debt? What society has yielded through your efforts is comparatively easy to return; you can give it to the poor, or to the State. And then what? You still have your `duty' to society, for you are still part of it; you are one of its citizens. As long as you belong to society identify yourself with it, you are both the giver and the taker. You maintain it; you support its structure, do you not? "I do. I am, as you say, an integral part of society; without it, I am not. Since I am both the good and the bad of society, I must remove the bad and uphold the good." In any given culture or society, the `good' is the accepted, the respectable. You want to maintain that which is noble within the structure of society; is that it? "What I want to do is to change the social pattern in which man is caught. I mean this most earnestly." The social pattern is set up by man; it is not independent of man, though it has a life of its own, and man is not independent of it; they are interrelated. Change within the pattern is no change at all; it is mere modification, reformation. Only by breaking away from the social pattern without building another can you `help' society. As long as you belong to society, you are only helping it to deteriorate. All societies including the most marvellously utopian, have within them the seeds of their own corruption. To change society, you must break away from it. You must cease to be what society is: acquisitive, ambitious, envious, power-seeking, and so on. "Do you mean I must become a monk, a sannyasi?" Certainly not. the sannyasi has merely renounced the outer show of the world, of society, but inwardly he is still a part of it; he is still burning with the desire to achieve, to gain, to become. "Yes, I see that." Surely, since you have burnt yourself in politics, your problem is not only to break away from society, but to come totally to life again, to love and be simple. Without love, do what you may, you will not know the total action which alone can save man. "That is true, sir: we don't love, we aren't really simple." Why? Because you are so concerned with reforms, with duties, with respectability with becoming something with breaking through to the other side. In the name of another, you are concerned with yourself; you are caught in your own cockle-shell. You think you are the centre of this beautiful earth. You never pause to look at a tree, at a flower, at the flowing river; and if by some chance you do look, your eyes are filled with the things of the mind, and not with beauty and love. "Again, that is true; but what is one to do?" Look and be simple. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES III CHAPTER 19 'WHERE THE SELF IS, LOVE IS NOT' THE ROSE BUSHES just inside the gate were covered with bright red roses, heavy with perfume, and butterflies were hovering about them. There were also marigolds and sweet peas in bloom. The garden overlooked the river, and that evening it was full of the golden light of the setting sun. Fishing boats, shaped somewhat like gondolas, were dark on the still surface of the river. The village among the trees on the opposite side was over a mile away, and yet voices came clearly across the water. From the gate there was a path leading down to the river. It joined a rough road which was used by the villagers on their way to and from the town. This road ended abruptly at the bank of a stream that flowed into the big river. It was not a sandy bank, but heavy with damp clay, and the feet sank into it. Across the stream at this point they would presently build a bamboo bridge; but now there was a clumsy barge laden with the quiet villagers who were returning from their day of trading in the town. Two men punted us across, while the villagers sat huddled in the evening cold. There was a small brazier to be lit when it got a little darker, but the moon would give them light. A little girl was carrying a basket of firewood; she had put it down while crossing the stream, and was now having difficulty in lifting it again. It was quite heavy for a little girl, but with some help she got it carefully placed on her small head, and her smile seemed to fill the universe. We all climbed the steep bank with careful steps, and soon the villagers went chattering off down the road. Here it was open country, and the soil was very rich with the silt of many centuries. The flat, well-cultivated land, dotted with marvellous old trees, stretched out to the horizon. There were fields of sweet smelling peas, white with blossom, as well as winter wheat and other grain. On one side flowed the river, wide and curving, and overlooking the river there was a village, noisy with activity. The path here was very ancient; the Enlightened One was said to have walked on it, and the pilgrims had been using it for many centuries. It was a holy path, and there were small temples here and there along that sacred way. The mango and tamarind trees were also very old, and some were dying, having seen so much. Against the golden evening sky they were stately, their limbs dark and open. A little further along there was a grove of bamboos, yellowing with age, and in a small orchard a goat tied to a fruit tree was bleating for its kid, which was jumping and skipping all over the place. The path led on through another grove of mangoes, and beside a tranquil pond. There was a breathless stillness, and everything knew the blessed hour. The earth and everything upon it became holy. It was not that the mind was aware of this peace as something outside of itself, something to be remembered and communicated, but there was a total absence of any movement of the mind. There was only the immeasurable. He was a youngish man, in his early forties he said; and though he had faced audiences and spoken with great confidence, he was still rather shy. Like so many others of his generation, he had played with politics, with religion, and with social reform. He was given to writing poetry, and could put colour on canvas. Several of the prominent leaders were his friends, and he could have gone far in politics; but he had chosen otherwise and was content to keep his light covered in a distant mountain town. "I have been wanting to see you for many years. You may not remember it, but I was once on the same boat with you going to Europe before the second world war. My father was very interested in your teachings, but I drifted away into politics and other things. My desire to talk to you again finally became so persistent that it could not be put off any longer. I want to expose my heart -something I have never done to anyone else, for it isn't easy to discuss oneself with others. For some time I have been attending your talks and discussions in different places, but recently I have had a strong urge to see you privately, because I have come to an impasse." Of what kind? "I don't seem to be able to `break through'. I have done some meditation, not the kind that mesmerizes you, but trying to be aware of my own thinking, and so on. In this process I invariably fall asleep. I suppose it is because I am lazy, easygoing. I have fasted, and I have tried various diets, but this lethargy persists." Is it due to laziness, or to something else? Is there a deep, inward frustration? Has your mind been made dull, insensitive, by the events of your life? If one may ask, is it that love is not there? "I don't know sir; I have vaguely thought about these matters, but have never been able to pin anything down. perhaps I have been smothered by too many good and evil things. In a way, life has been too easy for me, with family, money, certain capacities, and so on. Nothing has been very difficult, and that may be the trouble. This general feeling of being at ease and having the capacity to find my way out of almost any situation may have made me soft." Is that it? Is that not just a description of superficial happenings? If those things had affected you deeply, you would have led a different kind of life, you would have followed the easy course. But you have not, so there must be a different process at work that is making your mind sluggish and inept. "Then what is it? I am not bothered by sex; I have indulged in it, but it has never been a passion with me to the extent that I became a slave to it. It began with love and ended in disappointment, but not in frustration. Of that I am pretty sure. I neither condemn nor pursue sex. It's not a problem to me, anyway." Has this indifference destroyed sensitivity? After all, love is vulnerable, and a mind that has built defence against life ceases to love. "I don't think I have built a defence against sex; but love is not necessarily sex, and I really do not know if I love at all." You see, our minds are so carefully cultivated that we fill the heart with the things of the mind. We give most of our time and energy to the earning of a livelihood, to the gathering of knowledge, to the fire of belief, to patriotism and the worship of the State, to the activities of social reform, to the pursuit of ideals and virtues, and to the many other things with which the mind keeps itself occupied; so the heart is made empty, and the mind becomes rich in its cunningness. This does make for insensitivity, doesn't it? "It is true that we over-cultivate the mind. We worship knowledge, and the man of intellect is honoured, but few of us love in the sense you are talking about. Speaking for myself, I honestly do not know if I have any love at all. I don't kill to eat. I like nature. I like to go into the woods and feel their silence and beauty; I like to sleep under the open skies. But does all this indicate that I love?" Sensitivity to nature is part of love; but it isn't love, is it? To be gentle and kind, to do good works, asking nothing in return, is part of love; but it isn't love, is it? "Then what is love?" Love is all these parts, but much more. The totality of love is not within the measure of the mind; and to know that totality, the mind must be empty of its occupations however noble or self-centred. To ask how to empty the mind, or how not to be self-centred, is to pursue a method; and the pursuit of a method is another occupation of the mind. "But is it possible to empty the mind without some kind of effort?" All effort, the `right' as well as the `wrong', sustains the centre, the core of achievement, the self. Where the self is, love is not. But we were talking of the lethargy of the mind, of its insensitivity. Have you not read a great deal? And may not knowledge be part of this process of insensitivity? "I am not a scholar, but I read a lot, and I like to browse in libraries. I respect knowledge, and I don't quite see why you think that knowledge necessarily makes for insensitivity." What do we mean by knowledge? Our life is largely a repetition of what we have been taught, is it not? We may add to our learning, but the repetitive process continues and strengthens the habit of accumulating. What do you know except what you have read or been told, or what you have experienced? That which you experience now is shaped by what you have experienced before. Further experience is what has been experienced already, only enlarged or modified, and so the repetitive process is maintained. Repetition of the good or the bad, of the noble or the trivial, obviously makes for insensitivity, because the mind is moving only within the field of the known. May not this be why your mind is dull? "But I can't put away all that I know, all that I have accumulated as knowledge." You are this knowledge, you are the things that you have accumulated; you are the gramophone record that is ever repeating what is impressed on it. You are the song, the noise, the chatter of society, of your culture. Is there an uncorrupted `you', apart from all this chatter? This self-centre is now anxious to free itself from the things it has gathered; but the effort it makes to be free is still part of the accumulative process. You have a new record to play, with new words, but your mind is still dull, insensitive. "I see that perfectly; you have described very well my state of mind. I have learnt, in my time, the jargons of various ideologies, both religious and political; but, as you point out, my mind has in essence remained the same. I am now very clearly aware of this; and I am also aware that this whole process makes the mind superficially alert clever and outwardly pliable, while below the surface it is still that same old self-centre which is the `me'." Are you aware of all this as a fact, or do you know it only through another's description? If it is not your own discovery, something that you have found out for yourself, then it is still only the word and not the fact that is important. "I don't quite follow this. please go slowly, sir, and explain it again." Do you know anything, or do you only recognize? Recognition is a process of association, memory, which is knowledge. That is true, isn't it? "I think I see what you mean. I know that bird is a parrot only because I have been told so. Through association, memory which is knowledge, there is recognition, and then I say: `It is a parrot'." The word `parrot' has blocked you from looking at the bird, the thing that flies. We almost never look at the fact, but at the word or the symbol that stands for the fact. The fact recedes and the word, the symbol, becomes all-important. Now, can you look at the fact, whatever it may be, dissociated from the word, the symbol? "It seems to me that perception of the fact, and awareness of the word representing the fact, occur in the mind at the same time." Can the mind separate the fact from the word? "I don't think it can." Perhaps we are making this more difficult than it is. That object is called a tree; the word and the object are two separate things, are they not? "Actually it is so; but, as you say we always look at the object through the word." Can you separate the object from the word? The word `love' is not the feeling, the fact of love. "But, in a way, the word is a fact too, isn't it?" In a way, yes. Words exist to communicate and also to remember, to fix in the mind a fleeting experience, a thought, a feeling; so the mind itself is the word, the experience, it is the memory of the fact in terms of pleasure and pain, good and bad. This whole process takes place within the field of time, the field of the known; and any revolution within that field is no revolution at all, but only a modification of what has been. "If I understand you correctly, you are saying that I have made my mind dull, lethargic, insensitive, through traditional or repetitive thinking, of which self-discipline is a part. To bring the repetitive process to an end, the gramophone record, which is the self must be broken; and it can be broken only by seeing the fact, and not through effort. Effort, you say, only keeps the recording machine wound up, so in that there is no hope. Then what?" See the fact, the what is, and let that fact operate; don't you operate on the fact - the `you' being the repetitive mechanism, with its opinions, judgments, knowledge. "I will try," he said earnestly. To try is to oil the repetitive mechanism, not to put an end to it. "Sir, you are taking everything away from one, and nothing is left. But that may be the new thing." It is. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES III CHAPTER 20 'THE FRAGMENTATION OF MAN IS MAKING HIM SICK' IT WAS STILL very early and there was a slight ground mist hiding the bushes and the flowers. A heavy dew had made a circle of dampness around each tree. The sun was just coming up behind a mass of trees, which were quiet now, for the chattering birds had all scattered for the day. The engines of the airplanes were being warmed up, and their roar filled the early morning air; but very soon they would be leaving for different parts of the big continent, and except for the usual daily noises of a town, everything would be quiet again. A beggar with a nice voice was singing in the street, and the song had that nostalgic quality which is so familiar. His voice had not become raucous, and amidst the rattling of buses and the shouts of people calling across the street, it had a pleasant and welcoming sound. You would hear him every morning if you lived around there. Many beggars do tricks, or have monkeys that do the tricks; they are knowing and sophisticated, with a cunning look and an easy smile. But this beggar was altogether of a different kind. He was a simple beggar, with a long staff and torn, dirty clothes. He had no pretensions, no wheedling ways. The others received more alms than he did, for people like to be flattered, to be called pleasant names, or to be blessed and wished prosperity. But this beggar did none of those things. He begged, and if you gave, he bowed his head and went on; there was no pose, no gesticulation. He would walk the whole length of the long, shady street, always giving way to people; at the end of the street he would turn right into a narrower and quieter street, and begin his singing again, finally wandering off into one of the little lanes. He was quite young, and there was a pleasant feeling about him. The plane took off at the appointed time and climbed smoothly over the city, with its domes, its ancient tombs and its long blocks of ugly buildings, pretentious and recently constructed. Beyond We city was the river, winding and open, its waters a pale blue-green; and the plane followed it, going mostly south-east. We had levelled off at about six thousand feet, and the country lay below us, all neatly broken up into irregular grey-green patches, each man owning a little piece. The river went meandering past many villages, and from it there were straight, narrow, man-made canals extending into the fields. Hundreds of miles away to the east, the snowcovered mountains began to appear, ethereal and unreal in their rosy glow. They seemed at first to be floating above the horizon, and it was difficult to believe that they were mountains, with sharp peaks and massive formations. From the surface of the earth, at that distance, they couldn't be seen, but from this altitude they were visible and spectacularly beautiful. One could hardly take one's eyes off them, for fear of missing the slightest nuance in their beauty and grandeur. One range slowly gave place to another, one massive peak to another. They covered the north - eastern horizon, and even after we had been flying for two hours, they were still there. It was really incredible: the colour, the immensity and the solitude. One forgot everything else - the passengers, the captain asking questions, and the hostess requesting the tickets. It was not the absorption of a child in a toy, nor of the monk in his cell, nor of the sannyasi on the bank of a river. It was a state of total attention in which there was no distraction. There was only the beauty and the glory of the earth. There was no watcher. A psychologist, an analyst, and an M.D., he was plump, with a large head and serious eyes. He had come, he said, to talk over several points; however, he would not use the jargon of psychology and analysis, but would keep to words with which we were both familiar. Having studied the famous psychologists, and himself been analysed by one of them, he knew the limitations of modern psychology, as well as its therapeutic value. It was not always successful, he explained, but it had great possibilities in the hands of the right people. Of course, there were many quacks, but that was to be expected. He had also studied, although not extensively oriental thought and the oriental idea of consciousness. "When the subconscious was first discovered and described here in the West, no university had a place for it, and no publisher would undertake to bring out the book; but now, of course, after only two decades, the word is on everybody's lips. We like to think that we are the discoverer of everything, and that the Orient is a jungle of mysticism and disappearing-rope tricks; but the fact is that the Orient undertook the exploration of consciousness many centuries ago, only they used different symbols, with more extensive meanings. I am saying this only to indicate that I am eager to learn, and have not the usual bias in this matter. We specialists in the field of psychology do help the maladjusted to return to society, and that seems to be our main concern. But somehow I personally am not satisfied with this - which brings me to one of the points I want to discuss. Is that all we psychologists can do? Can we not do more than just help the maladjusted individual to return to society?" Is society healthy, that an individual should return to it? Has not society itself helped to make the individual unhealthy? Of course, the unhealthy must be made healthy, that goes without saying; but why should the individual adjust himself to an unhealthy society? If he is healthy, he will not be a part of it. Without first questioning the health of society, what is the good of helping misfits to conform to society? "I don't think society is healthy; it is run by and for frustrated, power-seeking superstitious people. It is always in a state of convulsion. During the last war I helped in the work of trying to straighten out the misfits in the army who couldn't adjust themselves to the horrors of the battlefield. They were probably right, but there was a war on, and it had to be won. Some of those who fought and survived still need psychiatric help, and to bring them back into society is going to be quite a job." To help the individual to fit into a society which is ever at war with itself - is this what psychologists and analysts are supposed to do? Is the individual to be healed only in order to kill or be killed? If one is not killed, or driven insane, then must one only fit into the structure of hate, envy, ambition and superstition which can be very scientific? "I admit society is not what it should be, but what can you do? You can't get out of society; you have to work in it, make a living in it, suffer and die in it. You can't become a recluse, or one of those people who withdraw and think only of their own salvation. We must save society in spite of itself." Society is man's relationship with man; its structure is based on his compulsions, ambitions, hates, vanities envies, on the whole complexity of his urge to dominate and to follow. Unless the individual breaks away from this corruptive structure, what fundamental value can there be in the physician's help? He will only be made corrupt again. "It is the duty of a physician to heal. We are not reformers of society; that department belongs to the sociologists." Life is one, it's not to be departmentalized. We have to be concerned with the whole of man: with his work, with his love, with his conduct, with his health, his death and his God - as well as with the atomic bomb. It's this fragmentation of man that's making him sick. "Some of us realize this, sir, but what can we do? We ourselves are not whole men with an overall outlook, an integrated drive and purpose. We heal one part while the rest disintegrates, only to see that the deep rot is destroying the whole. What is one to do? As a physician, what is my duty?" To heal, obviously; but isn't it also the responsibility of the physician to heal society as a whole? There can be no reformation of society; there can only be a revolution outside the pattern of society. "But I come back to my point: as an individual, what can one do?" Break away from society, of course; be free, not from mere outward things, but from envy, ambition, the worship of success, and so on. "Such freedom would give one more time for study, and there certainly would be greater tranquillity; but would it not lead to a rather superficial, useless existence?" On the contrary, freedom from envy and fear would bring to the individual a state of integration, would it not? It would put a stop to the various forms of escape which inevitably cause confusion and self-contradiction, and life would have a deeper, wider significance. "Aren't some escapes beneficial to a limited intelligence? Religion is a splendid escape for many people; it gives significance, however illusory, to their otherwise drab existence." So do cinemas, romantic novels and some drugs; and would you encourage such forms of escape? The intellectuals also have their escapes, crude or subtle, and almost every person has his blind spots; and when such people are in positions of power, they breed more mischief and misery. Religion is not a matter of dogmas and beliefs, of rituals and superstitions; nor is it the cultivation of personal salvation, which is a self-centred activity. Religion is the total way of life; it is the understanding of truth, which is not a projection of the mind. "You are asking too much of the average person, who wants his amusements, his escapes, his self-satisfying religion, and someone to follow or to hate. What you are hinting at demands a different education, a different world-society, and neither our politicians nor our average educators are capable of this wider vision. I suppose man has got to go through the long, dark night of misery and pain before he will emerge as an integrated, intelligent human being. For the moment, that is not my concern. My concern is with individual human wrecks, for whom I can and do do a great deal; but it seems so little in this vast sea of misery. As you say, I shall have to bring about a state of integration in myself, and that's quite an arduous undertaking. "There is another thing, personal in nature, which I would like to talk over with you, if I may. You said earlier something about envy. I realize that I am envious; and although I allow myself to be analysed from time to time, as most of us analysts do, I haven't been able to go beyond this thing. I am almost ashamed to admit it, but envy is there, ranging from petty jealousy up to its more complex forms, and I don't seem able to shake it off." Is the mind capable of being free from envy, not in little bits, but completely? Unless there is total freedom from it, right through one's whole being, envy keeps repeating itself in different forms, at different times. "Yes, I realize that. Envy must be wholly eliminated from the mind, just as a malignant growth must be totally removed from the body, otherwise it will recur; but how?" The `how' is another form of envy, isn't it? When one asks for a method, one wants to get rid of envy in order to be something else; so envy is still operating. "It was a natural question but I see what you mean. This aspect of the matter had never struck me before." We always seem to fall into this trap, and for ever after we are caught in it; we are always trying to be free from envy. Trying to be free gives rise to the method, and so the mind is never free either from envy or from the method. Inquiring into the possibility of total freedom from envy is one thing, and seeking a method to help one to be free is another. In seeking a method, one invariably finds it, however simple or complex it may be. Then all inquiry into the possibility of total freedom ceases, and one is stuck with a method, a practice, a discipline. Thus envy goes on and is subtly sustained. "Yes, as you point it out, I see that's perfectly true. In effect you are asking me if I am really concerned with total freedom from envy. You know, sir, I have found envy to be stimulating at times; there has been pleasure in it. Do I want to be free from the totality of envy, from both the pleasure and the painful anxiety of it? I confess I have never before asked myself that question, nor have I been asked it by others. My first reaction is, I don't know if I want to or not. I suppose what I would really like, is to keep the stimulating side of envy and get rid of the rest. But it is obviously impossible to retain only the desirable parts of it, and one must accept the whole content of envy, or be free of it completely. I am beginning to see the meaning of your question. The urge is there to be free from envy, and yet I want to hold on to certain parts of it. We human beings are certainly irrational and contradictory! This requires further analysis, sir, and I hope you will have the patience to go through to the end of it. I can see there is fear involved in this. If I were not driven by envy, which is covered over by professional words and requirements, there might be a slipping back; I might not be so successful, so prominent, so financially well-off. There is a subtle fear of losing all this a fear of insecurity, and other fears which it's not worth going into now. This underlying fear is certainly stronger than the urge to be free from even the unpleasant aspects of envy, to say nothing of being totally free from it. I now see the intricate patterns of this problem, and I am not at all sure I want to be free from envy." As long as the mind thinks in terms of the `more', there must be envy; as long as there's comparison, though through comparison we think we understand, there must be envy; as long as there's an end, a goal to be achieved, there must be envy; as long as the additive process exists which is self-improvement, the gaining of virtue, and so on, there must be envy. The `more' implies time, does it not? It implies time in order to change from what one is to what one should be, the ideal; time as a means of gaining, arriving achieving. "Of course. To cover distance, to move from one point to another, whether physically or psychologically, time is necessary." Time as a movement from here to there is a physical, chronological fact. But is time needed to be free from envy? We say, "I am this, and to become that, or to change this quality into that, needs time." But is time the factor of change? Or is any change within the field of time is no change at all? "I am getting rather confused here. You are suggesting that change in terms of time is no change at all. How is that?" Such change is a modified continuity of what has been, is it not? "Let me see if I understand this. To change from the fact, which is envy, to the ideal, which is non-envy, needs time - at least, that's what we think. This gradual change through time, you say, is no change at all, but merely a further wallowing in envy. Yes, I can see that." As long as the mind thinks in terms of changing through time, of bringing about a revolution in the future, there is no transformation in the present. This is a fact, isn't it? "All right, sir, we both see this to be a fact. Then what?" How does the mind react when it is confronted with this fact? "Either it runs away from the fact, or it stops and looks at it." Which is your reaction? "Both, I am afraid. There is an urge to escape from the fact, and at the same time I want to examine it." Can you examine something when there's fear concerning it? Can you observe a fact about which you have an opinion, a judgment? "I see what you mean. I am not observing the fact, but evaluating it. My mind is projecting its ideas and fears upon it. Yes, that's right." In other words, your mind is occupied with itself, and is therefore incapable of being simply aware of the fact. You are operating upon the fact, and not allowing the fact to operate upon your mind. The fact that change within the field of time is no change at all, that there can only be total and not partial, gradual freedom from envy - the very truth of this fact will operate on the mind, setting it free. "I really think the truth of it is making its way through my blockages." COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES III CHAPTER 21 'THE VANITY OF KNOWLEDGE' THERE WERE FOUR who were chanting, and it was pure sound. They were quiet, elderly men, uninterested in worldly things, but not by way of renunciation; they were simply not drawn to the world. Wearing old but clean clothes, and with solemn faces, they would hardly have been noticed if they had passed you on the street. But the moment they began to chant, their faces were transformed and became radiant, ageless, and they created, with the sound of the words and the powerful intonation, that extraordinary atmosphere of a very ancient language. They were the words, the sound and the meaning. The sound of the words had great depth. It was not the depth of a stringed instrument, or of a drum, but the depth of a human voice alive to the significance of words made holy by time and usage. The chant was in the language that has been polished and made perfect, and its sound filled the big room, and penetrated the walls, the garden, the mind and the heart. It wasn't the sound of a singer on the stage, but there was the silence that exists between two movements of sound. You felt your body being uncontrollably shaken by the sound of the words, which was in the marrow of your bones; you sat completely still, and it held you in its movement; it was living, dancing, vibrant, and your mind was of it. It wasn't a sound that lulled you to sleep, but one that shook and almost hurt you. It was the depth and the beauty of pure tone, untouched by applause, by fame, and by the world; it was the tone from which all sound, all music comes. A boy of three or so was sitting up in front without moving his back straight, his eyes closed; he wasn't asleep. After an hour he quickly got up and went away, without any awkward shyness. He was equal to all, for the sound of the words was in his heart. You never got tired during those two hours; you didn't want to move, and the world, with all its noise, didn't exist. presently the chanting stopped, and the sound came to an end; but it went on inside you, and it would go on for many a day. The four bowed and saluted, and became once more the men of every day. They said they had practised that form of chanting for over ten years, and it had called for great patience and a dedicated life. It was a dying art, for there was hardly anyone nowadays willing to devote his life to that kind of chanting; there was no money in it, no fame, and who wanted to enter that kind of world? They were delighted, they said, to chant before people who really appreciated their effort. Then they went their way, poor and lost in a world of noise, cruelty and greed. But the river had listened, and was silent. He was a well-known scholar, and had come with some of his friends and a disciple or two. He had a large head, and his small eyes peered through thick glasses. He knew Sanskrit as others know their own languages and spoke it as easily; and he also knew Greek and English. He was as familiar with the major oriental philosophies, including their various branches, as you are with addition and subtraction, and he had studied western philosophers as well, both the ancient and the modem. Rigorous in his self-discipline, he had days of silence and fasting, and had practised, he said, various forms of meditation. For all this, he was quite a youngish man, probably in his late forties, simply attired and eager. His friends and disciples sat around him and waited with that devout expectancy which precludes any questioning. They were all of that world of scholars who possess encyclopedic knowledge, have visions and psychic experiences, and are certain of their own understanding. They took no part in the conversation, but listened, or rather heard what was going on. Later they would ardently discuss it among themselves, but now they must maintain a reverential silence in the presence of higher authority. There was a period of silence, and presently he began. There was no arrogance or pride of knowledge about him. "I have come as an inquirer, not to flaunt what I know. What do I know beyond what I have read and experienced? To learn is a great virtue, but to be content with what one knows is stupid. I have not come in the spirit of argumentation, though argument is necessary when doubt arises. I have come to seek, and not to refute. As I said, I have for many years practised meditation, not only the Hindu and Buddhist forms of it, but western types as well. I am saying this so that you may know to what extent I have sought to find that which transcends the mind." Can a mind which practises a system ever discover that which is beyond the mind? Is a mind which is held within the framework of its own discipline capable of search? Must there not be freedom to discover? "Surely, to seek and to observe there must be a certain discipline; there must be the regular practice of some method if one is to find, and to understand that which one finds." Sir, we all seek a way out of our misery and trials; but search comes to an end when a method is adopted by means of which we hope to put an end to sorrow. Only in the understanding of sorrow is there an ending of it, and not in the practice of a method. "But how can there be an ending of sorrow if the mind is not well-controlled, one-pointed and purposive? Do you mean to say that discipline is unnecessary for understanding?" Does one understand when, through discipline, through various practices, one's mind is shaped by desire? Must not the mind be free for understanding to take place? "Freedom, surely, comes at the end of the journey; at the beginning, one is a slave to desire and the things of desire. To free oneself from attachment to the pleasures of the senses, there must be discipline, the practice of various sadhanas; otherwise the mind yields to desire and is caught in its net. Unless the groundwork of righteousness is well laid, the house will tumble." Freedom is at the beginning, and not at the end. The understanding of greed, of the whole content of it - its nature, its implications, and its effects both pleasurable and painful - must be at the beginning. Then there is no need for the mind to build a wall to discipline itself against greed. When the totality of that which in enviably leads to misery and confusion is perceived, discipline against it has no meaning. If he who now spends much time and energy in the practice of a discipline, with all its conflicts, were to give the same thought and attention to the understanding of the total significance of sorrow, there would be a complete ending of sorrow. But we are caught in the tradition of resistance, discipline, and so there is no understanding of the ways of sorrow. "I am listening, but I do not understand." Can there be listening as long as the mind clings to conclusions based on its assumptions and experiences? Surely, one listens only when the mind is not translating what it hears in terms of what it knows. Knowledge prevents listening. One may know a great deal; but to listen to something which may be totally different from what one knows, one must put aside one's knowledge. Isn't that so, sir? "Then how can one tell whether what's being said is true or false?" The true and the false are not based on opinion or judgment, however wise and old. To perceive the true in the false, and the false in what is said to be true, and to see the truth as truth, demands a mind that is not held in its own conditioning. How can one see whether a statement is true or false, if one's mind is prejudiced, caught in the framework of its own or another's conclusions and experiences? For such a mind, what is important is to be aware of its own limitations. "How is a mind that's enmeshed in the net of its own making to disentangle itself?" Does this question reflect the search for a new method, or is it put to discover for oneself the whole significance of seeking and practising a method? After all, when one practises a method a discipline, the intention is to achieve a result, to gain certain qualities, and so on. Instead of worldly things, one hopes to gain so-called spiritual things; but gain is the purpose in both cases. There is no difference, except in words, between the man who meditates and practises a discipline in order to attain the other shore, and the man who works hard to fulfil his worldly ambition. Both are ambitious, both are greedy, both are concerned with themselves. "That being the fact, sir, how are envy, ambition, greed, and so on, to be put aside?" Again, if it may be pointed out, the `how', the method that will seemingly bring about freedom, only puts an end to one's inquiry into the problem, and arrests the understanding of it. To grasp fully the significance of the problem, one has to consider the whole question of effort. A petty mind making an effort not to be petty remains petty; a greedy mind disciplining itself to be generous is still greedy. Effort to be or not to be something is the continuance of the self. This effort may identify itself with the Atman, the soul, the indwelling God, and so on, but the core of it is still greed, ambition, which is the self, with all its conscious and unconscious attributes. "You are maintaining, then, that all effort to achieve an end, worldly or spiritual, is essentially the same, in that selfishness is the basis of it. Such effort only sustains the ego." That is so, isn't it? The mind that practises virtue ceases to be virtuous. Humility cannot be cultivated; when it is, it is no longer humility. "That is clear and to the point. Now, since you cannot be advocating indolence, what is the nature of true effort?" When we are aware of the full significance of effort, with all its implications, is there then any effort at all of which we are conscious? "You have pointed out that any becoming, positive or negative, is the perpetuation of this `me', which is the result of identification with desire and the objects of desire. When once this fact is understood, you are asking, is there then any effort as we know it now? I can perceive the possibility of a state of being in which all such effort has ceased." Merely to perceive the possibility of that state is not to understand the total meaning of effort in everyday existence. As long as there's an observer who is trying to change, or to gain, or to put aside that which he observes, there must be effort; for after all, effort is the conflict between what is and what should be, the ideal. When this fact is understood, not merely verbally or intellectually, but deeply, then the mind has entered that state of being in which all effort, as we know it, is not. "To experience that state is the ardent desire of every seeker, including myself." It cannot be sought; it comes uninvited. The desire for it drives the mind to gather knowledge and practise discipline as a means of gaining it - which is again to conform to a pattern in order to be successful. Knowledge is an impediment to the experiencing of that state. "How can knowledge be an impediment?" he asked in rather a shocked voice. The problem of knowledge is complex, is it not? Knowledge is a movement of the past. To know is to assert that which has been. He who asserts that he knows ceases to understand reality. After all, sir, what is it that we know? "I know certain scientific and ethical facts. Without such knowledge, the civilized world would revert to savagery - and you are obviously not advocating that. Apart from these facts, what do I know? I know there is the infinitely compassionate, the Supreme." That's not a fact, it is a psychological assumption on the part of a mind that has been conditioned to believe in the existence of the Supreme. One who has been conditioned differently will maintain that the Supreme is not. Both are bound by tradition, by knowledge, and so neither will discover the reality of it. Again, what is it that we know? We know only what we have read or experienced, what we have been taught by the ancient teachers and the modern gurus and interpreters. "Again I am forced to agree with you. We are the product of the past in conjunction with the present. The present is shaped by the past." And the future is a modified continuity of the present. But this is not a matter of agreement, sir. Either one sees the fact, or one does not. When the fact is seen by both of us, agreement is unnecessary. Agreement exists only where there are opinions. "You are saying, sir, that we know only what we have been taught; that we are merely the repetition of what has been; that our experiences, visions and aspirations are the responses of our conditioning, and nothing more. But is this entirely so? Is the Atman of our own making? Can it be a mere projection of our own desires and hopes? It is not an invention, but a necessity." That which is necessary is soon fashioned by the mind, and the mind is then taught to accept what it has fashioned. The minds of a whole people can be trained to accept a given belief, or its contrary, and both are the outcome of necessity, of hope, of fear, of the desire for comfort or power. "By your very reasoning, you are forcing me to see certain facts, not the least of which is my own state of confusion. But there still remains the question, what is a mind to do that is caught in its own entangling net?" Let it just be choicelessly aware of the fact that it is confused; for any action born of that confusion can only lead to further confusion. Sir, must not the mind die to all knowledge if it is to discover the reality of the Supreme? "That is a very hard thing you are asking. Can I die to everything I have learnt, read, experienced? I really don't know." But is it not necessary for the mind - spontaneously, without any motive or compulsion - to die to the past? A mind that is the result of time, a mind that has read, studied, that has meditated upon what it has been taught, and is in itself a continuance of the past - how can such a mind experience reality, the timeless, the ever-new? How can it ever fathom the unknown? Surely, to know, to be certain, is the way of vanity, arrogance. As long as one knows, there is no dying, there is only continuity; and what has continuity can never be in that state of creation which is the timeless. When the past ceases to contaminate, reality is. There is then no need to seek it out. With one part of itself the mind knows that there is no permanency, no corner in which it can rest; but with another part, it is ever disciplining itself, seeking openly or surreptitiously to establish an abode of certainty, of permanence, a relationship beyond dispute. So there is an endless contradiction, a struggle to be and yet not to be and we spend our days in conflict and sorrow, prisoners within the walls of our own minds. The walls can be broken down, but knowledge and technique are not the instruments of that freedom. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES III CHAPTER 22"WHAT IS LIFE ALL ABOUT?" THE SUN WAS beating down on the rough, pebbly road, and it was pleasant in the shade of the big mango tree. people from the villages came along that road carrying on their heads large baskets laden with vegetables, fruit, and other things for the town. They were mostly women, walking with bare-footed ease, chatting and laughing, their dark faces bare to the sun. They would put their burdens down along the edge of the road and rest in the cool shade of the mango tree, sitting on the ground and not talking so much. The baskets were rather heavy, and presently each woman would help another to place her basket on her head, the last one somehow managing by almost kneeling on the ground. Then they would be off, with steady pace and an extraordinary grace of movement that had come with years of toil. It wasn't a thing that had been learnt through choice; it had come about through sheer necessity. There was a little girl among them, not more than ten or so, and she too had a basket on her head, though much smaller than the others. She was full of smiles and play, and wouldn't look straight ahead, as the older women did, but would turn round to see if I were following, and we would smile at each other. She too was barefoot-ed, and she too was on the long journey of life. It was a lovely country, rich and enchanting. There were mango groves and rolling hills, and the water that was still running in the narrow, sandy beds made a pleasant noise as it wandered through the land. The palm trees seemed to tower over the mangoes which were in bloom and haunted by the murmuring of wild geese. Old banyan trees also grew on either side of the road, which was now busy with the movement of lazy bullock carts, and with chattering people who were walking from one village to another on some trifling business. They were not in a hurry, and would gather to talk of their doings wherever there was deep shade. Few had anything on their thin, worn feet, and fewer still had bicycles. Now and then they would eat a few nuts, or some fried grain. They had an air of gentle kindliness about them, and they had obviously not caught the contagion of the town. On that road there was peace, though an occasional lorry would pass, carrying, perhaps, sacks of charcoal so badly loaded that some seemed ready to fall off at any moment; but they never did. A bus full of people would come along, making threatening noises with its horn. But it too would soon pass by, leaving the road to the villagers - and to the brown monkeys, of which there were dozens, old and young. When a lorry or a bus came rattling along, the babies would cling to their mothers; they would hold on until everything was quiet again, and then scatter on the road, but never going very far away from their mothers. With their large heads, and their eyes bright with curiosity, they would sit scratching themselves and watching the others. The half-grown monkeys would be all over the place, chasing each other across the road and up the trees, always avoiding the older ones, but not wandering too far away from them either. There was a very large male, old but active, who would sit quietly by the road, keeping watch on things. The others kept their distance, but when he moved away, they all would leisurely follow, running and scattering, but always moving in the same general direction. It was a road of a thousand happenings. He was a young man, and had come accompanied by two others of about the same age. Rather nervous, with a large forehead and long, restless hands, he explained that he was only a clerk, with little pay and very little future. Even though he had passed his college examinations fairly well, he had found this job only with great difficulty, and was glad to have it. He wasn't yet married, and didn't know if he would ever be, for life was difficult, and you needed money to educate children. However, he was content with the little he earned, for he and his mother could live on it and buy the necessary things of life. In any case, he hadn't come about that, he added, but for an entirely different reason. Both of his companions, one of whom was married, had a problem similar to his, and he had persuaded them to come along with him. They too had been to college, and like him, had minor office jobs. They were all clean, serious and somewhat cheerful, with bright eyes and expressive smiles. "We have come to ask you a very simple question, hoping for a simple answer. Although we are college-educated, we are not yet very well prepared for deep reasoning and extensive analysis; but we shall listen to what you tell us. You see, sir, we don't know what life is all about. We have messed around here and there, belonging to political parties, joining the social `do-gooders', attending labour meetings, and all the rest of it; and as it happens, we are all passionately fond of music. We have been to temples, and have dipped into the sacred books, but not too deeply. I am venturing to tell you all this simply to give you some information about ourselves. We three get together practically every evening to talk things over, and the question we would like to ask you is this: what is the purpose of life, and how can we find it?" Why are you asking this question? And if someone were to tell you what the purpose of life is, would you accept it and guide your lives! by it? "We are asking this question," explained the married one, "because we are confused; we don't know what all this mess and misery is about. We would like to talk it over with someone who is not confused as we are, and who is not arrogant and authoritarian; someone who will talk to us normally, and not condescendingly, as though they knew everything and we were ignorant school boys who knew nothing. We have heard that you aren't like that, and so we have come to ask you what life is all about." "It's not only that, sir," added the first one. "We also want to lead a fruitful life, a life with some meaning to it; but at the same time, we don't want to become `ists', or belong to any particular `ism'. Some of our friends belong to various groups of religious and political double-talkers, but we have no desire to join them. The political ones are generally pursuing power for themselves in the name of the State; and as for the religious ones, they are for the most part gullible and superstitious. So here we are, and I don't know if you can help us." Again, if anyone were foolish enough to tell you what is the purpose of life, would you accept it - provided, of course, it were reasonable, comforting and more or less satisfactory? "I suppose we would," said the first one. "But he would want to make quite sure that it was true, and not just some clever invention," put in one of his companions. "I doubt that we are capable of such discernment," added the other. That's the whole point, isn't it? You have all admitted that you are rather confused. Now, do you think a confused mind can find out what the purpose of life is? "Why not, sir?" asked the first one. "We are confused, there's no denying that; but if through our confusion we cannot perceive the purpose of life, then there's no hope." However much it may grope and search, a confused mind can only find that which is further confusing; isn't that so? "I don't what you are getting at," said the married one. We are not trying to get at anything. We are proceeding step by step; and the first thing to find out, surely, is whether or not the mind can ever think clearly as long as it is confused. "Obviously it cannot," replied the first one quickly. "If I am confused, as in fact I am I cannot think clearly. Clear thinking implies the absence of confusion. As I am confused, my thinking is not clear Then what?" The fact is that whatever a confused mind seeks and finds must also be confused; its leaders, its gurus, its ends, will reflect its own confusion. Isn't that so? "That's hard to realize," said the married one. It's hard to realize because of our conceit. We think we are so clever, so capable of solving human problems. Most of us are afraid to acknowledge to ourselves the fact that we are confused, for then we would have to admit our own utter insolvency, our defeat - which would mean either despair, or humility. Despair leads to bitterness, to cynicism, and to grotesque philosophies; but when there is true humility, then we can really begin to seek and to understand. "I quite see the truth of what you are saying," replied the married one. Isn't it also a fact that choice indicates confusion? "I don't understand how that can be," said the second one. "We must choose; without choice, there is no freedom." When do you choose? Only out of confusion, when you are not quite `certain'. When there's clarity, there's no choice. "Quite right, sir," put in the married one. "When you love and want to marry a person, there's no choice involved. It is only when there's no love that you shop around. In a way, love is clarity, isn't it?" That depends on what we mean by love. If `love' is hedged about by fear, jealousy, attachment, then it is not love, and there is no clarity. But for the present we are not talking about love. When the mind is in a state of confusion, its search for the purpose of life, and its choice of purposes, has no significance, has it? "What do you mean by `choice of purposes'?" When you all came here, asking what is the purpose of life, you were shopping for a purpose, a goal, were you not? Obviously you had asked others the same question, but their replies must have been unsatisfactory, and so you came here. You were choosing; and as we said, choice is born of confusion. Being confused, you wanted to be certain; and a mind that seeks to be certain when it's confused only maintains confusion, doesn't it? Certainty added to inward confusion only strengthens the confusion. "That is clear," replied the first one. "I am beginning to see that a confused mind can only find confused answers to confused problems. Then what?" Let's go into it slowly. Our minds are confused, and that is a fact. Then our minds are also shallow, petty, limited; that's another fact, isn't it? "But we are not entirely petty, there is a part of us which is not," asserted the married one. "If we can find a way to go beyond this shallowness, we can break it up." That is a comforting hope, but will it actually so? You have the traditional notion that there is an entity - the Atman, the soul, the spiritual essence - beyond all this pettiness, an entity that can and does pierce through it. But when a petty mind thinks there is a part of itself which is not petty, it is only sustaining its pettiness. In asserting that there's the Atman, the higher self, and so on, a confused, ignorant mind is still held in the bonds of its own confused thought, which is based mostly on tradition, on what it has been taught by others. "Then what are we to do?" Isn't this question rather premature? There may be no need to take any particular action. In the very process of understanding the whole issue, there may be a different kind of action altogether. "You mean that the action to be taken will reveal itself as we go along in our understanding of life," explained the married one. "Now, what do you mean by life?" Life is beauty sorrow, joy and confusion; it is the tree, the bird, and the light of the moon on the water; it is work, pain and hope; it is death, the search for immortality, the belief in and the denial of the Supreme; it is goodness, hate and envy; it is greed and ambition; it is love and the lack of it; it is inventiveness, and the power to exploit the machine; it is unfathomable ecstasy; it is the mind, the meditator, and the meditation. It is all things. But how do our petty, confused minds approach life? That is important, not the description of what life is. On our approach to life all questions and answers depend. "I see that this mess which I call life is the outcome of my own mind," said the first one. "I am of it, and it is of me. Can I separate myself from life, and ask myself how I approach it?" You actually have separated yourself from life, have you not? You do not say, "I am the whole of life", and remain still; you want to change this and improve that, you want to reject and to hold. You, the watcher, continue as an immovable, permanent centre in this vast movement, and so you are caught in conflict, in sorrow. Now, you who are separate, how do you approach the whole? How do you come to this vastness, to the beauty of the earth and the heavens? "I come to it as I am," replied the married man, "with my pettiness, asking for futile answers." What we ask for, we receive. Our lives are petty, mean, quite shallow and bound to routine; and the gods of the trivial mind are as silly and stupid as their maker. Whether we live in a palace or a village, whether we are clerks in an office or sit in the seats of the mighty, the fact is that our minds are petty, narrow, ambitious, envious; and it is with such minds that we want to find out if there is God, what truth is, what the perfect government is, and seek answers to the innumerable other questions that pop up. "Yes, sir, that is our life," acknowledged the first one sadly. "What can we do?" Die to the whole of our existence not little by little, but totally! It's the petty mind that tries, that struggles, that has ideals and systems, that`s everlastingly improving itself by cultivating virtues. Virtue ceases to be virtuous when it's cultivated. "I can see that we should die to the past," said the first one, "but if I die to the past, what is there then?" You are saying - aren't you? - that you will die to the past only when you are guaranteed a satisfactory substitute for what you have renounced. That's not renunciation, that's only another gain. A petty mind wanting to know what there is after dying will find its own petty answer. You must die to all of the known for the unknown to be. "I put that question out of thoughtlessness. I do understand, sir, what you have been saying, and this is not just a polite or merely verbal statement. I think each one of us has felt deeply the truth of it all, and this feeling is the important thing. From this feeling, action can and will take place. May we come again?" COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES III CHAPTER 23 'WITHOUT GOODNESS AND LOVE, ONE IS NOT EDUCATED' SEATED ON A raised platform, he was playing a seven-stringed instrument to a small audience of people who were familiar with this type of classical music. They were sitting on the floor in front of him; while from a position behind him another instrument, with only four strings, was being played. He was a young man, but completely the master of the seven strings and of the complex music. He would improvise before each song; then would come the song, in which there would be more improvisation. You would never hear any song played twice in the same way. The words were retained, but within a certain frame there was great latitude, and the musician could improvise to his heart's content; and the more the variations and combinations the greater the musician. On the strings, words were not possible; but all who sat there knew the words, and they went into ecstasies over them. With nodding heads and gracefully gesturing hands, they kept perfect time, and there would be a gentle slap on the thigh at the end of the rhythm. The musician had closed his eyes and was completely absorbed in his creative freedom, and in the beauty of the sound; his mind and his fingers were in perfect coordination. And what fingers! Delicate and rapid, they seemed to have a life of their own. They would be still only at the end of the song in that particular frame, and then they would be quiet and reposed; but with incredible rapidity they would begin another song within a different frame. They almost mesmerized you with their grace and swiftness of movement. And those strings, what melodious sounds they gave! They were pressed by the fingers of the left hand to the proper tension, while the fingers of the right hand plucked them with masterly ease and control. The moon was bright outside, and the dark shadows were motionless; through the window, the river was just visible, a flow of silver against the dark, silent trees on the other bank. A strange thing was going on in the space which is the mind. It had been watching the graceful movements of the fingers, listening to the sweet sounds, observing the nodding heads and the rhythmical hands of the silent people. Suddenly the watcher, the listener, disappeared; he had not been lulled into abeyance by the melodious strings, but was totally absent. There was only the vast space which is the mind. All the things of the earth and of man were in it, but they were at the extreme outer edges, dim and far off. Within the space where nothing was, there was a movement, and the movement was stillness. It was a deep, vast movement, without direction, without motive, which began from the outer edges, and with incredible strength was coming towards the centre - a centre that is everywhere within the stillness, within the motion which is space. This centre is total aloneness, uncontaminated, unknowable, a solitude which is not isolation, which has no end and no beginning. It is complete in itself, and not made; the outer edges are in it but not of it. It is there, but not within the scope of man's mind. It is the whole, the totality, but not approachable. There were four of them, all boys of about the same age, sixteen to eighteen. Rather shy, they needed coaxing, but once started, they could hardly stop, and their eager questions came tumbling out. You could see that they had talked it all over among themselves beforehand, and had prepared written questions; but after the first one or two, they forgot what they had written, and their words flowed freely from their own spontaneous thoughts. Though not of well-to-do parents, they were clean and neat in their dress. "Sir, when you talked to us students two or three days ago," began the nearest one, "you said something about how necessary right education is if we are to be able to face life. I wish you would again explain to us what you mean by right education. We have talked it over amongst ourselves, but we don't quite understand it." What kind of education do you all have now? "Oh, we are in college, and we are being taught the usual things which are necessary for a given profession," he replied. "I am going to be an engineer; my friends here are variously studying physics, literature and economics. We are taking the prescribed courses and reading the prescribed books, and when we have time we read a novel or two; but except for games, we are at our studies most of the time." Do you think this is enough to be rightly educated for life? "From what you have said, sir, it is not enough," replied the second one. "But that's all we get, and ordinarily we think we are being educated." Just to learn to read and to write, to cultivate memory and pass some examinations, to acquire certain capacities or skills in order to get a job - is that education? "Is not all this necessary?" Yes, to prepare for a right means of livelihood is essential; but that's not all of life. There is also sex, ambition, envy, patriotism, violence, war, love, death, God, man's relationship to man, which is society-and so many other things. Are you being educated to meet this vast affair called life? "Who is to so educate us?" asked the third one. "Our teachers and professors seem so indifferent. Some of them are clever and well-read, but none of them give any thought to this kind of thing. We are pushed through, and we shall consider ourselves lucky if we take our degrees; everything is getting to be so difficult." "Except for our sexual passions, which are fairly definite," said the first one, "we know nothing about life; all the rest seems so vague and far off. We hear our parents grumbling about not having enough money, and we realize they are stuck in certain grooves for the rest of their days. So who can teach us about life?" No one can teach you, but you can learn. There's a vast difference between learning and being taught. Learning goes on throughout life, whereas being taught is over in a few hours or years - and then, for the rest of your life, you repeat what you have been taught. What you have been taught soon turns to dead ashes; and then life, which is a living thing, becomes a battleground of vain efforts. You are thrown into life without the ease or the leisure to understand it; before you know anything about life, you are already right in the middle of it, married, tied to a job, with society pitilessly clamouring around you. One has to learn about life from early childhood on, not at the last moment; when one is all but grown up, it is almost too late. Do you know what life is? It extends from the moment you are born to the moment you die, and perhaps beyond. Life is a vast, complex whole; it's like a house in which everything is happening at once. You love and you hate; you are greedy, envious, and at the same time you feel you shouldn't be. You are ambitious, and there is either frustration or success, following in the wake of anxiety, fear and ruthlessness; and sooner or later there comes a feeling of the futility of it all. Then there are the horrors and brutality of war, and peace through terror; there is nationalism, sovereignty, which supports war; there is death at the end of life's road, or anywhere along it. There is the search for God, with its conflicting beliefs and the quarrels between organized religions. There is the struggle to get and keep a job; there are marriage, children, illness, and the dominance of society and the State. Life is all this, and much more; and you are thrown into this mess. Generally you sink into it, miserable and lost; and if you survive by climbing to the top of the heap, you are still part of the mess. This is what we call life: everlasting struggle and sorrow, with a little joy occasionally thrown in. Who is going to teach you about all this? Or rather, how are you going to learn about it? Even if you have capacity and talent, you are hounded by ambition, by the desire for fame, with its frustrations and sorrows. All this is life, isn't it? And to go beyond all this is also life. "Fortunately, we still know only very little of that whole struggle," went on the first one, "but what you tell us of it is already in us potentially. I want to be a famous engineer, I want to beat them all; so I must work hard and get to know the right people; I must plan, calculate for the future. I must make my way through life." That is just it. Everyone says that he must make his way through life; each one is out for himself, whether in the name of business, religion or the country. You want to become famous, and so does your neighbour, and so does his neighbour; and so it is with everyone, from the highest to the lowest in the land. Thus we build a society based on ambition, envy and acquisitiveness, in which each man is the enemy of another; and you are `educated' to conform to this disintegrating society, to fit into its vicious frame. "But what are we to do?" asked the second one. "It seems to me that we must conform to society, or be destroyed. Is there any way out of it, sir?" At present you are so-called educated to fit into this society; your capacities are developed to enable you to make a living within the pattern. Your parents, your educators, your government, are all concerned with your efficiency and financial security, are they not? "I don't know about the government, sir," put in the fourth one, "but our parents spend their hard-earned money to enable us to have a college degree, so that we can earn a livelihood. They love us." Do they? Let's see. The government wants you to be efficient bureaucrats to run the State, good industrial workers to maintain the economy, and capable soldiers to kill `the enemy; isn't that so? "I suppose the government does. But our parents are more kind; they think of our welfare and want us to be good citizens." Yes, they want you to be `good citizens', which means being respectably ambitious, everlastingly acquisitive, and indulging in that socially accepted ruthlessness which is called competition, so that you and they may be secure. This is what constitutes being a so-called good citizen; but is it good, or something very evil? You say that your parents love you; but is it so? I am not being cynical. Love is an extraordinary thing; without it, life is barren. You may have many possessions and sit in the seat of power, but without the beauty and greatness of love, life soon becomes misery and confusion. Love implies - doesn't it? - that those who are loved be left wholly free to grow in their fullness, to be something greater than mere social machines. Love does not compel either openly or through the subtle threat of duties and responsibilities. Where there's any form of compulsion or exertion of authority, there's no love. "I don't think this is quite the kind of love my friend was talking about," said the third one. "Our parents love us, but not in that way. I know a boy who wants to be an artist, but his father wants him to be a business man, and he threatens to cut him off if he doesn't do his duty." What parents call duty is not love, it's a form of compulsion; and society will support the parents, for what they are doing is very respectable. The parents are anxious for the boy to find a secure job and earn some money; but with such an enormous population, there are a thousand candidates for every job, and the parents think the boy can never earn a livelihood through painting; so they try to force him to get over what they regard as his foolish whim. They consider it a necessity for him to conform to society, to be respectable and secure. This is called love. But is it love? Or is it fear, covered over by the word `love'? "When you put it that way, I don't know what to say," replied the third one. Is there any other way of putting it? What has just been said may be unpleasant, but it is a fact. The so-called education that you have now obviously does not help you to meet this vast complex of life; you come to it unprepared, and are swallowed up in it. "But who is there to educate us to understand life? We have no such teachers, sir." The educator has to be educated also. The older people say that you, the coming generation, must create a different world, but they don't mean it at all. On the contrary, with great thought and care they set about `educating' you to conform to the old pattern with some modification. Though they may talk very differently, teachers and parents, supported by the government and society in general see to it that you are trained to conform to tradition, to accept ambition and envy as the natural way of life. They are not at all concerned with a new way of life, and that is why the educator himself is not being rightly educated. The older generation has brought about this world of war, this world of antagonism and division between man and man; and the newer generation is following sedulously in its footsteps. "But we want to be rightly educated, sir. What shall we do?" First of all, see very clearly one simple fact: that neither the government, nor your present teachers, nor your parents, care to educate you rightly; if they did, the world would be entirely different, and there would be no wars. So if you want to be rightly educated, you have to set about it yourself; and when you are grown up, you will then see to it that your own children are rightly educated. "But how can we rightly educate ourselves? We need someone to teach us." You have teachers to instruct you in mathematics, in literature, and so on; but education is something deeper and wider than the mere gathering of information. Education is the cultivation of the mind so that action is not self-centred; it is learning throughout life to break down the walls which the mind builds in order to be secure, and from which arises fear with all its complexities. To be rightly educated, you have to study hard and not be lazy. Be good at games, not to beat another, but to amuse yourself. Eat the right food, and keep physically fit. Let the mind be alert and capable of dealing with the problems of life, not as a Hindu, a Communist, or a Christian, but as a human being. To be rightly educated, you have to understand yourself; you have to keep on learning about yourself. When you stop learning, life becomes ugly and sorrowful. Without goodness and love, you are not rightly educated. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES III CHAPTER 24 'HATE AND VIOLENCE' IT WAS QUITE early; the sun wouldn't be up for an hour or so. The Southern Cross was very clear and strangely beautiful over the palm trees. Everything was very still; the trees were motionless and dark, and even the little creatures of the earth were silent. There was a purity and a blessing over the sleeping world. The road led through a cluster of palms, past a large pond, and beyond, to where the houses began. Each house had a garden, some well-kept, and others neglected. There was a scent of jasmine in the air, and the dew made the perfume richer. There weren't any lights in the houses yet, and the stars were still clear, but there was an awakening in the eastern sky. A cyclist came along yawning, and went by without turning his head. Someone had started a car and was gently warming it up, and there was an impatient honk. Beyond these houses, the road went past a rice field and turned left, towards the sprawling town. A path branched off the road and followed a water-way. The palm trees along its banks were reflected on the still, clear water, and a large white bird was already at work, trying to catch fish. There was still no one else on that path, but soon there would be many, for it was used by the local people as a short cut to the main road. Beyond the water-way there was a secluded house, with a large tree in a rather nice garden. The dawn had now fully come, and the morning star was barely visible over the tree; but the night still held back the day. A woman was sitting on a mat under the tree, tuning a stringed instrument which rested on her lap. presently she sang something in Sanskrit; it was deeply religious, and as the words filled the morning air, the whole atmosphere of the place seemed to change, becoming charged with a strange fullness and meaning. Then she began to sing a song that is sung only at that hour of the morning. It was enchanting. She was utterly unaware that anyone was listening to her, nor did she care if anyone did, for she was wholly absorbed in that song. She had a good, clear voice, and was thoroughly enjoying herself in a grave and serious manner. One could hardly hear the stringed instrument, but her voice came across the water clear and strong. The words and the sound filled one's whole being, and there was the joy of great purity. He had come with several of his friends, but some were evidently his followers. A large man, very dark and powerfully built, he seemed vigorous, and he must have been physically very active. He was freshly bathed, and his clothes were spotlessly clean. When he talked, his lips seemed to cover his whole face; some inward fury appeared to be eating him up, and his large head, with heavy hair, was held high with disdain and authority. His smile was forced, and you could see that he laughed with very few. His eyes, direct and without reserve, indicated a complete belief in all that he said. There was something strangely potent about him. "I hope you will excuse me if I plunge into the subject at once; I do not like to beat about the bush, but prefer to come straight to the point. I am with a large group of people who want to destroy the brahminical tradition and put the Brahmin in his place. He has exploited us ruthlessly, and now it's our turn. He has ruled us, made us feel stupidly inferior and subservient to his gods. We are going to burn his gods. We don't want his words to corrupt our language, which is much older than his. We are planning to drive him out of every prominent position, and we shall make ourselves more clever and cunning than he is. He has deprived us of education, but we shall get even." Sir, why this hate for other human beings? Do you not exploit? Do you not keep other people down? Do you not prevent others from being rightly educated? Are you not scheming to make others accept your gods and your values? Hate is the same, whether it is in you or in the so-called Brahmin. "I don't think you understand. people can be kept under only for a certain length of time. This is the day of the downtrodden. We are going to rise up and overthrow the Brahmin rule; we are organized, and we shall work hard to bring this about. We want neither their gods nor their priests; we want to be their equals, or go beyond them." Wouldn't it be better to talk over more thoughtfully the problem of human relationship? It's so easy to orate about nothing, to fall into slogans, to mesmerize oneself and others with double talk. We are human beings, sir, though we may call ourselves by different names. This earth is ours, it is not the earth of the Brahmin, the Russian or the American. We torture ourselves with these inane divisions. The Brahmin is no more corrupt than any other man who is seeking power and position; his gods are no more false than the ones you and others have. To throw out one image and put another in its place seems so utterly pointless, whether the image be made by the hand or by the mind. "All this may be so in theory, but in everyday living we have got to face facts. The Brahmins have exploited other people for centuries; they have grown clever and cunning, and now hold all the choice positions. We are out to take their positions away from them, and we are doing it quite successfully." You can't take away their acumen, and they will continue to use it for their own purposes. "But we shall educate ourselves, make ourselves cleverer than they are; we shall beat them at their own game, and then we shall create a better world." The world isn't made better through hate and envy. Aren't you seeking power and position, rather than to bring about a world in which all hate, greed and violence have come to an end? It is this desire for power and position that corrupts man, whether he be a Brahmin, a non-Brahmin or an ardent reformer. If one group which is ambitious, envious, cunningly brutal, is replaced by another with the same trend of thought - surely this leads nowhere. "You are dealing in ideologies, and we in facts." Is that so, sir? What do you mean by a fact? "In everyday living, our conflicts and our hungers are a fact. To us, what is important is to get our rights, to safeguard our interests, and to see that the future is made safe for our children. To this end, we want to get power into our own hands. These are facts." Do you mean to say that hate and envy are not facts? "They may be, but we are not concerned with that." He looked around to see what the others were thinking, but they were all respectfully silent. They also were safeguarding their interests. Does not hate direct the course of outward action? Hate can only breed further hate; and a society based on hate, on envy, a society in which there are competing groups, each safeguarding its own interests - such a society will always be at war within itself, and so with other societies. From what you say, all that you have gained is the prospect that your group may come out on top, thereby being in a position to exploit, to oppress, to cause mischief, as the other group has done in the past. This seems so silly, doesn't it? "I admit it does; but we have got to take things as they are." In a way, yes; but we need not continue with them as they are. There must obviously be a change, but not within the same pattern of hate and violence. Don't you feel that this is true? "Is it possible to bring about a change without hate and violence?" Again, is there a change at all if the means employed is similar to that used in building up the present society? "In other words, you are saying that violence can only create an essentially violent society, however new we may think it is. Yes, I can see that." Again he looked around at his friends. Wouldn't you say that, to build a good social order, the right means is essential? And is the means different from the end? Is not the end contained in the means? "This is getting a little complicated. I see that hate and violence can only produce a society that is fundamentally violent and oppressive. That much is clear. Now, you say that the right means must be employed to bring about a right society. What is the right means?" The right means is action which is not the outcome of hate, envy, authority, ambition, fear. The end is not distant from the means. The end is the means. "But how are we to overcome hate and envy? These feelings unite us against a common enemy. There is a certain pleasure in violence, it brings results, and it can't be got rid of so easily." Why not? When you perceive for yourself that violence only leads to greater harm, is it difficult to drop violence? When, however superficially pleasurable, something gives you deep pain, don't you put it aside? "On the physical level that is comparatively easy, but it's more difficult with things that are inward." It is difficult only when the pleasure outweighs the pain. If hate and violence are pleasurable to you, even though they breed untold harm and misery, you will keep on with them; but be clear about it, and don't say that you are creating a new social order, a better way of life, for that is all nonsense. He who hates, who is acquisitive, who is seeking power or a position of authority, is not a Brahmin, for a true Brahmin is outside the social order that is based upon these things; and if you, on your part, are not free from envy, from antagonism, and from the desire for power, you are no different from the present Brahmin, though you may call yourself by a different name. "Sir, I am astonished at myself that I am even listening to you. An hour ago I would have been horrified to think that I might listen to such talk; but I have been listening, and I am not ashamed of it. I see now how easily we are carried away by our own words, and by our more sordid urges. Let's hope things will be different." COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES III CHAPTER 25 'THE CULTIVATION OF SENSITIVITY' IT WAS VERY early in the morning when the plane took off. The passengers were all heavily cloaked, for it was quite cold, and it would be colder still as we gained altitude. The man in the next seat was saying, through the roar of the engines, that these easterners were brilliant, logical, and had behind them the culture of many centuries; but what was their future? On the other hand, the western peoples, while not at all brilliant, except for the few, were very active and produced so much; they were as industrious as ants. Why were they all making so much fuss and killing each other over religious and political differences, and the division of the land? What fools they were! They hadn't learned anything from history. He thanked God that he was a scholar, and not caught up in it all. The man who was now in power had turned out to be a mere politician, not the great statesman one had hoped he would be; but such was the way of the world. It was strange how, centuries ago, one small group had civilized the West, and another had exploded creatively all over the Orient, giving new and deeper significance to life. But where was it all now? Man had become small-minded, miserable, lost. "After all, when the mind is bound by authority, it shrinks -which is what has happened to the minds of the scholars," he added with a smile. "When bound by tradition, philosophy ceases to be creative, meaningful. Most scholars live in a world of their own, a world into which they escape, and their minds are as shrivelled as last year's fruit dried in the summer sun. But life is like that isn't it? - full of infinite promise, and ending in misery, frustration. All the same, the life of the mind has its own rewards." The sky had been a clear, soft blue, but now clouds were piling up, dark and heavy with rain. We were flying between an upper and a lower layer of clouds; it was clear where we were, but there was no sun, only space in which there were no clouds. Heavy drops of rain were falling on the silver wings from the upper layer; it was cold and bumpy, but we would be landing soon. The man in the next seat had fallen asleep; his mouth was twitching, and his hands jerked nervously. In a few minutes there would be the long drive from the airport, through woods and green fields. Like the two who had come with her, she was a teacher, quite young and enthusiastic. "We have all taken college degrees," she began, "and have been trained as teachers - which may be partly what's wrong with us," she added with a smile. "We teach in a school for young children, up to the age of adolescence, and we would like to talk over with you some of the problems of the adolescent period, when the sexual urges begin. Of course, we have read about it all, but reading is not quite the same as talking things over. We are all married, and looking back, we realize how much better it would have been if someone had talked to us about sexual matters and helped us to understand that difficult adolescent period. But we haven't come to talk about ourselves, though we too have our problems; and who hasn't?" "For the most part," added the second one, "children come to that difficult period completely unprepared, with very little help or understanding; though they may know something about it, they are caught up and swept along by the sexual urge. We want to help our students to face it, to understand it, and not become virtual slaves to it, but what with all these cinemas, advertising pictures and sexually provocative magazine covers, it is difficult even for adults to think straightly about it. I am not being respectable or prudish, but the problem is there, and one must be able to understand and deal with it in a practical manner." "That's it," said the third; "we want to be practical, whatever that may mean, but we still don't know too much about it. Films are now available, telling about sex, and showing from beginning to end how children are born, and all the rest of it; but it's such a colossal subject that one hesitates to tackle it. We want to teach the children what they should know about sex, without arousing any morbid curiosity, and without strengthening their already strong feelings to the point of encouraging them to make experiments. It's a kind of tight rope that one has to walk on; and the parents, with some exceptions, of course, are not much help; they are fearful and anxious to be respectable. So it's not just a problem of adolescence; it includes the parents and the whole social environment, and we can't neglect that aspect of it either. Also, there's the problem of delinquency." Aren't all these problems interrelated? There's no isolated problem, and no problem can be resolved by itself; isn't that so? Then what's the issue that you want to talk over? "Our immediate problem is how to help the child to understand this period of adolescence, and yet not do anything that might encourage him to go overboard in his relation with the opposite sex." How do you now meet the problem? "We hem and haw, we talk vaguely about controlling one's emotions, disciplining one's desires - and of course there are always the examples, the heroes of virtue," ejaculated the first teacher. "We urge on them the importance of following ideals, leading a clean life of moderation, obeying the social order, and all that kind of thing. On some of the children it has a stabilizing effect, on others no effect at all, and a few are frightened; but I suppose the fear soon wears off." "We talk about the process of reproduction, pointing it out in nature," added the second one, "but on the whole we are conservative and cautious." Then what's the problem? "As my friend said, the problem is how to help the student to cope with the sexual urge when he reaches adolescence, and not be bowled over by it." Does the sexual urge arise only when the boy or girl reaches adolescence, or does it exist in a simpler, freer way throughout the years which precede adolescence? Must not the child be helped to understand it from the earliest possible age, not just at a certain later period of his development? "I think you are right," said the third one. "The sexual urge does undoubtedly manifest itself in different ways at a much earlier age, but most of us haven't the time or the interest to consider it much before the child reaches adolescence, when the problem tends to become acute." If one comes to adolescence without having been rightly educated, then obviously the sexual urge takes on an overwhelming importance, and becomes almost uncontrollable. "What does it mean to be `rightly educated'?" Right education is through the cultivation of sensitivity; and sensitivity must be cultivated, not just at the particular period of growth called adolescence, but throughout one's life; isn't that so? "Why this emphasis on sensitivity?" asked the first one. To be sensitive is to feel affection, it is to be aware of beauty, of ugliness; and is not the cultivation of this sensitivity part of the problem you are speaking of? "I hadn't thought about it before, but now that you point it out, I see they are related." To be rightly educated is not just to have studied history or physics; it is also to be sensitive to the things of the earth - to the animals, to the trees, to the streams, to the sky, and to other people. But we neglect all that, or we study it as part of a project, something to be learned and stored up for use when occasion demands. Even if one has this sensitivity in childhood, it is generally destroyed by the noise of so-called civilization. The child's environment soon forces him into a mould of the respectable, the conventional. Gentleness, affection, the feeling for beauty, the sensitivity to ugliness - all this is lost; but of course the biological urge is still there. "That's true," agreed the third one. "We do seem to neglect all that side of life, don't we? And we excuse ourselves by saying we have no time for it, we have the curriculum to think of, and all that!" Isn't the cultivation of sensitivity at least as important as books and degrees? But we worship success, and we neglect this sensitivity, which destroys the pursuit of success. "Isn't success necessary in life?" Insistence upon success breeds insensitivity, it encourages ruthless- ness and self-centred activity. How can an ambitious man be sensitive to other people, or to the things of the earth? They are there for his fulfilment, to be used by him in his climb to the top. And this sensitivity is essential, otherwise you have sexual problems. "How would you cultivate sensitivity in the young?" `Cultivation' is an unfortunate word, but since we have used it we will go on with it. Sensitivity is not something to be practised; it is no good merely telling the young to observe nature, or to read the poets, and all the rest of it. But if you yourself are sensitive to the beautiful and to the ugly, if in you there is a sense of gentleness, of love, don't you think you will be able to help your students to have affection, to be considerate, and so on? You see, we stifle or neglect all this, while every form of stimulating diversion is indulged in, so the problem becomes increasingly complex. "I see what you say to be true, but I don't think you fully appreciate our difficulty. We have classes of thirty or forty boys and girls, and we can't talk to all of them individually, however much we would like to. Moreover, teaching so many at one time is a most exhausting task and we ourselves get tired out and tend to lose whatever sensitivity we have." So what are you to do? Care, tenderness, affection - these are essential if the sexual urges are to be understood. Surely, by feeling out the problem, by talking about it, by pointing it out in different ways, sensitivity is gathered by the teacher and its significance communicated to the young child; and when that child becomes adolescent, he will then be able to meet the sexual urges with wider and deeper understanding. But to bring about the right kind of education for the child, you have also to educate the parents, who after all form society. "The problem is complex and really mountainous, and what can we three do in this mess? What can the individual do?" It is only as individuals that we can do anything at all. It has always been an individual, here and there, who has really affected society and brought about great changes in thought and action. To be really revolutionary, one must step out of the pattern of society, the pattern of acquisitiveness, envy, and so on. Any reform within the pattern will, in the end, only cause more confusion and misery. Delinquency is but a revolt within the pattern; and the function of the educator, surely, is to help the young to break out of the pattern, which is to be free of acquisitiveness and of the search for power. "I can see that we shall be of little value unless we also feel these things intensely. And that's one of our major difficulties: we are all so intellectual that our feelings have become paralysed. It is only when we feel strongly that we can really do something." COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES III CHAPTER 26"WHY HAVE I NO INSIGHT?" IT HAD BEEN raining continuously for a week; the earth was soggy, and there were large puddles all along the path. The water level had risen in the wells, and the frogs were having a splendid time, croaking tirelessly all night long. The swollen river was endangering the bridge; but the rains were welcome, even though great damage was being done. Now, however, it was slowly clearing up; there were patches of blue sky just overhead, and the morning sun was scattering the clouds. It would be months before the leaves of the newly-washed trees would again be covered with fine, red dust. The blue of the sky was so intense that it made you stop and wonder. The air had been purified, and in one short week the earth had suddenly become green. In that morning light, peace lay upon the land. A single parrot was perched on a dead branch of a nearby tree; it wasn't preening itself, and it sat very still, but its eyes were moving and alert. It was of a delicate green, with a brilliant red beak and a long tail of paler green. You wanted to touch it, to feel the colour of it; but if you moved, it would fly away. Though it was completely still, a frozen green light, you could feel it was intensely alive, and it seemed to give life to the dead branch on which it sat. It was so astonishingly beautiful, it took your breath away; you hardly dared take your eyes off it, lest in a flash it be gone. You had seen parrots by the dozen, moving in their crazy flight, sitting along the wires, or scattered over the red fields of young, green corn. But this single bird seemed to be the focus of all life, of all beauty and perfection. There was nothing but this vivid spot of green on a dark branch against the i blue sky. There were no words, no thoughts in your mind; you weren't even conscious that you weren't thinking. The intensity of it brought tears to your eyes and made you blink - and the very blinking might frighten the bird away! But it remained there unmoving, so sleek, so slender, with every feather in place. Only a few minutes must have passed, but those few minutes covered the day, the year and all time; in those few minutes all life was, without an end or a beginning. It is not an experience to be stored up in memory, a dead thing to be kept alive by thought, which is also dying; it is totally alive, and so cannot be found among the dead. Someone called from the house beyond the garden, and the dead branch was suddenly bare. There were three of them, a woman and two men, and they were all quite young, probably in their middle thirties. They had come early, freshly bathed and clothed, and were obviously not of those who have money. Their faces shone with thought; their eyes were clear and simple, without that veiled look that comes with much learning. The woman was a sister of the oldest of them, and the other man was her husband. We all sat on a mat with a red border at each end. The traffic made an awful noise, and one window had to be closed, but the other opened upon a secluded garden in which there was a wide-spreading tree. They were a bit shy, but soon would be talking freely. "Although our families are well-to-do, all three of us have chosen to lead a very simple life, without pretensions," began the brother. "We live near a small village, read a little, and are given to meditation. We have no desire to be rich, and have just enough to get by. I know a certain amount of Sanskrit, but hesitate to quote the Scriptures authoritatively. My brother-in-law is more studious than I, but we are both too young to be learned. By itself, knowledge has very little meaning; it is helpful only in that it can guide us, keep us on the straight road." I wonder if knowledge is helpful; may it not be a hindrance? "How can knowledge ever be a hindrance?" he asked rather anxiously. "Surely, knowledge is always helpful." Helpful in what way? "Helpful in finding God, in leading a righteous life." Is it? An engineer must have knowledge to build a bridge, to design machines, and so on. Knowledge is essential to those who are concerned with the order of things. The physicist must have knowledge, it's part of his education, part of his very existence, and without it he cannot go forward. But does knowledge set the mind free to discover? Though knowledge is necessary to put to use what has already been discovered, surely the actual state of discovery is free from knowledge. "Without knowledge, I might wander off the path that leads to God." Why shouldn't you wander off the path? Is the path so clearly marked, and the end so definite? And what do you mean by knowledge? "By knowledge I mean all that one has experienced, read, or been taught of God, and of the things one must do, the virtues one must practise, and so on, in order to find Him. I am not, of course, referring to engineering knowledge." Is there so much difference between the two? The engineer has been taught how to achieve certain physical results by the application of knowledge which man has gathered through the centuries; whereas, you have been taught how to achieve certain inner results by controlling your thoughts, cultivating virtue, doing good works, and so on, all of which is equally a matter of knowledge gathered through the centuries. The engineer has his books and teachers, as you have yours. Both of you have been taught a technique, and both of you desire to achieve an end, you in your way, and he in his. You are both after results. And is God, or truth, a result? If it is, then it's put together by the mind; and what is put together can be rent asunder. So, is knowledge helpful in discovering reality? "I'm not at all sure that it's not sir, in spite of what you say," replied the husband. "Without knowledge, how can the path be trodden?" If the end is static, if it is a dead thing, without movement, then one or many paths can lead to it; but is reality, God, or whatever name you may give it, a fixed abode with a permanent address? "Of course not," said the brother eagerly. Then how can there be a path to it? Surely, truth has no path. "In that case, what's the function of knowledge?" asked the husband. You are the result of what you have been taught, and on that conditioning your experiences are based; and your experiences, in turn, strengthen or modify your conditioning. You are like a gramophone, playing different records, perhaps, but still a gramophone; and the records you play are made up of what you have been taught, whether by others or by your own experiences. That is so, isn't it? "Yes, sir," replied the brother, "but is there not a part of me which has not been taught?" Is there? Surely, that which you call the Atman, the soul, the higher self, and so on, is still within the realm of what you have read or been taught. "Your statements are so clear and meaningful, one is convinced in spite of oneself," said the brother. If you are merely convinced, then you do not see the truth of it. Truth is not a matter of conviction or agreement. You can agree or disagree about opinions or conclusions, but a fact needs no agreement; it's so. If once you see for yourself that what has been said is a fact, then you are not merely convinced: your mind has undergone a fundamental transformation. It no longer looks at the fact through a screen of conviction or belief; it approaches truth, or God, without knowledge, without any record. The record is the `me', the ego, the conceited one, the one who knows, the one who has been taught, who has practised virtue - and who is in conflict with the fact. "Then why do we struggle to acquire knowledge?" asked the husband. "Isn't knowledge an essential part of our existence?" When there's an understanding of the self, then knowledge has its rightful place; but without this understanding, the pursuit of self-knowledge gives a feeling of achievement, of getting somewhere; it is as exciting and pleasurable as success in the world. One may renounce the outward things of existence, but in the struggle to acquire self-knowledge there is the sensation of accomplishment, of the hunter catching the hunted, which is similar to the satisfaction of worldly gain. There is no understanding of the self, of the `me', the ego, through accumulating knowledge of what has been or what is. Accumulation distorts perception, and it is not possible to understand the self in its daily activities, its swift and cunning reactions, when the mind is weighed down by knowledge. As long as the mind is burdened with knowledge, and is itself the result of knowledge, it can never be new, uncorrupted. "May I be permitted to ask a question?" inquired the lady, rather nervously. She had been quietly listening, hesitant to ask questions out of respect for her husband; but now that the other two were reluctantly silent, she spoke up. "I would like to ask, if I may, why it is that one person has insight, total perception, while others see only the various details and are incapable of grasping the whole. Why can't we all have this insight, this capacity to see the whole, which you seem to have? Why is it that one has it, and another has not?" Do you think it's a gift? "It would seem so," she replied. "Yet that would mean that divinity, is partial, and then there would be very little chance for the rest of us. I hope it's not like that." Let us inquire into it. Now why are you asking this question? "For the simple and obvious reason that I want that deep insight." She had lost her shyness now, and was as eager to talk as the other two. So your inquiry is motivated by a desire to gain something. Gaining, achieving, or becoming something, implies a process of accumulation, and identification with what has been accumulated. Isn't this true? "Yes, sir." Gaining also implies comparison, does it not? You, who have not that insight, are comparing yourself with someone who has. "That is so." But all such comparison is obviously the outcome of envy; and is insight to be awakened through envy? "No, I suppose not." The world is full of envy, ambition, which can be seen in the everlasting pursuit of success, in the relation of the disciple to the Master, of the Master to the higher Master, and so on endlessly; and it does develop certain capacities. But is total perception, total awareness, such a capacity? Is it based on envy, ambition? Or does it come into being only when all desire to gain has ceased? Do you understand? "I don't think I do." The desire to gain is based on conceit, is it not? She hesitated, and then said slowly, "Now that you point it out, I see that fundamentally it is." So it is your conceit, in the large as well as in the petty sense, that is making you ask this question. "I'm afraid that's also true." In other words, you are asking this question out of the desire to be successful. Now, can this same question - Why is it that I have no deep insight? - be asked without envy, without giving any emphasis to the `I'? "I don't know." Can there be any inquiry at all as long as the mind is tethered to a motive? As long as thought is centred in envy, in conceit, in the desire to be successful, can it wander far and freely? Really to inquire, must not the centre cease? "Do you mean that envy, or ambition, which is the desire to be or to become something, must wholly disappear, if one is to have deep insight?" Again, if it may be pointed out, you want to possess that capacity, so you will set about disciplining yourself in order to acquire it. You, the would-be possessor, are still important, not the capacity itself. This capacity arises only when the mind has no motive of any kind. "But you said earlier sir, that the mind is the result of time, of knowledge, of motive; and how can such a mind be without any motive whatsoever?" Put that question to yourself, not just verbally, superficially, but as seriously as a hungry man wants food. When you are asking, inquiring, it is important to find out for yourself the cause of your inquiry. You can ask out of envy, or you can ask without any motive. The state of the mind which is really inquiring into the capacity of total perception is one of complete humility, complete stillness; and this very humility, this stillness, is that capacity itself. It is not something to be gained. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES III CHAPTER 27 ,REFORM, REVOLUTION AND THE SEARCH FOR GOD' THE RIVER THAT morning was grey, like molten lead. The sun rose out of the sleeping woods, big, with burning radiance, but the clouds just over the horizon soon hid it; and all day long the sun and the clouds were at war with each other for final victory. Generally there were fisherman on the river, in their gondola-shaped boats; but that morning they were absent, and the river was alone. The bloated carcass of some large animal came floating by, and several vultures were on it, screeching and tearing at the flesh, Others wanted their share, but they were driven off with huge, flapping wings, till those already on the body had had their fill. The crows, furiously cawing, tried to get in between the larger, clumsier birds, but they had no chance. Except for this noise and flutter around the dead body, the wide, curving river was peaceful. The village on the other bank had been awake for an hour or two. The villagers were shouting to each other, and their strong voices came clearly over the water. That shouting had some- thing pleasant about it; it was warm and friendly. A voice would call from across the river, rolling along in the clear air, and another would answer it from somewhere up-stream, or from the opposite bank. None of this seemed to disturb the quietness of the morning, in which there was a sense of great, abiding peace. The car went along a rough, neglected road, raising a cloud of dust which settled on the trees and on the few villagers who were making their way to and from the filthy, sprawling town. School children also used that road, but they didn't seem to mind the dust; they were too engrossed in their laughter and their play. Entering the main road, the car passed through the town, crossed the railway, and soon was again in the clean, open country. It was beautiful here; there were cows and goats in the green fields and under the huge, old trees, and it was as though you had never seen them before. passing through the town, with its filth and squalor, seemed to have taken away the beauty of the earth; but now it was given back to you again, and you were surprised to see the goodness of the earth, and of the things of the earth. There were camels, big and well-fed, each carrying a great bundle of jute. They never hurried, but kept a steady gait, with their heads held straight up in the air; and on top of each bundle sat a man, urging the awkward beast forward. With a shock of astonishment you saw on that road two huge, slow-swinging elephants, gaily covered with gold-embroidered red cloth, their tusks decorated with silver bands. They were being taken to some religious affair, and were dressed for the occasion; but they were stopped, and there was a conversation. Their huge bulk towered above you; but they were gentle, all enmity and anger were gone. You stroked their rough skin; the tip of a trunk touched your palm softly, curiously, and moved away. The man shouted to get them going again, and the earth seemed to move with them. A small, two-wheeled carriage came along, drawn by a thin, worn-out horse; it had no top, and was carrying a dead human body, wrapped in white cloth. The body was loosely tied to the floor of the unsprung vehicle, and as the horse trotted along over the uneven road, both driver and corpse were bouncing up and down. The plane from the north had arrived, and the passengers were alighting to take the half-hour rest before starting again. Three were politicians, and by the look of them, they must have been very im- portant people - cabinet ministers, it was said. They came down the cement walk like a ship passing through a narrow channel, all-powerful and altogether above the common herd. The other passengers kept several paces behind them. Everybody knew who they were; if anybody didn't, he was soon told, and the crowd became silent, watching the big men in their glory. But the earth was still green, a dog was barking, and on the horizon were the snowcovered mountains, an astonishing sight to behold. A small group had gathered in that large, bare room, but only four of them spoke, and somehow these four seemed to speak for them all. It was not a prearranged thing, but it happened quite naturally, and the others were evidently glad that it was so. One of the four, a large man with an assured air, was given to quick and easy statements. The second was not quite so big physically, but he had sharp eyes and a certain ease of manner. The other two were smaller men; but all of them must have been well-read, and words came easily to them. They appeared to be in their forties, and they had all seen something of life, they said, working at the various things in which they were interested. "I want to talk about frustration," said the large man. "It's the curse of my generation. We all seem to be frustrated in one way or another, and some of us become bitter and cynical, always criticizing others and eager to tear them down. Thousands have been liquidated in political purges; but we should remember that we can also kill others by word and gesture. personally, I am not cynical, though I have given a great part of my life to social work and the improvement of society. Like so many other people, I have played with Communism, and have found nothing in it; if anything, it's a retrogressive movement, and is certainly not of the future. I have been in the government, and somehow it hasn't meant much to me. I have read fairly widely, but reading doesn't make one's heart any lighter. Though I am quick at argument, my intellect says one thing, and my heart says another. I have been at war with myself for years, and there seems to be no way out of this inner conflict. I am a mass of contradictions, and inwardly I am slowly dying... I didn't mean to talk about all this but somehow I am talking. Why do we inwardly die and wither away? It's not only happening to me, but also to the great of the land." What do you mean by dying, withering away? "One may hold a responsible position, one may work hard and come to the top, but inwardly one is dead. If you told the so-called great among us -those whose names appear every day in the papers over a report of their doings and speeches - that they are essentially dull and stupid, they would be horrified; but like the rest of us, they too are withering away, inwardly deteriorating. Why? We lead moral, respectable lives, yet behind the eyes there's no flame. Some of us are not out for ourselves - at least I don't think so - and yet our inner life is ebbing away; whether we know it or not, and whether we live in ministerial houses or in the bare rooms of devoted workers, spiritually we have one foot in the grave. Why?" May it not be that we are choked by our conceits, by the pride of success and achievement, by the things that have great value for the mind? When the mind is weighed down by the things it has gathered, the heart withers. Isn't it very strange that everybody wants to climb the ladder of success and recognition? "We are brought up on it. And I suppose that as long as one is climbing the ladder, or sitting at the top of it, frustration is inevitable. But how is one to get over this sense of frustration?" Very simply, by not climbing. If you see the ladder and know where it leads, if you understand its deeper implications and do not set foot even on its first rung, you can never be frustrated. "But I can't just sit still and decay!" You are decaying now, in the midst of your ceaseless activity; and if like the self-disciplining hermit, you merely sit still while inwardly burning with desire, with all the fears of ambition and envy, you will continue to wither away. Isn't it true, sir, that decay comes with respectability? This does not mean that one must become disreputable. But you are very virtuous, are you not? "I try to be." The virtue of society leads to death. To be conscious of one's virtue is to die respectably. Outwardly and inwardly you are conforming to the rules of social morality, aren't you? "Unless most of us did, the whole structure of society would crumble. Are you preaching moral anarchy?" Am I? Social morality is mere respectability. Ambition, greed, the conceit of achievement and its recognition, the brutality of power and position, killing in the name of an ideology or a country - this is the morality of society. "Nevertheless, our social and religious leaders do preach against at least some of these things." The fact is one thing, and preaching is another. To kill for an ideology or a country is very respectable, and the killer, the general who organizes mass murder, is highly regarded and decorated. The man of power has the important place in the land. The preacher and the preached-at are in the same boat, are they not? "All of us are in the same boat," put in the second one, "and we are struggling to do something about it." If you see that the boat has many holes and is sinking fast, won't you jump out? "The boat is not as bad as all that. We must patch it up, and everybody should lend a hand. If everybody did, the boat would stay afloat on the river of life." You are a social worker, are you not? "Yes, sir, I am, and I have had the privilege of being closely associated with some of our greatest reformers. I believe that reform, not revolution, is the only way out of this chaos. Look what the Russian revolution has come to! No, sir, the really great men have always been reformers." What do you mean by reform? "To reform is gradually to improve the social and economic conditions of the people through the various schemes that we have formulated; it is to lessen poverty, to remove superstition, to get rid of class divisions, and so on." Such reformation is always within the existing social pattern. A different group of people may come out on top, new legislation may be enacted, there may be the nationalization of certain industries, and all the rest of it; but it is always within the present framework of society. That is what's called reform, isn't it? "If you object to that, then you can only be advocating revolution; and we all know that the great revolution following the first world war has since proved itself to be a retrogressive movement, as my friend pointed out, guilty of every kind of horror and suppression. Industrially the Communists may advance, they may equal or surpass other nations; but man doesn't live by bread alone, and we certainly don't want to follow that pattern." A revolution within the pattern, within the framework of society, is no revolution at all; it may be progressive or retrogressive, but like reform, it is only a modified continuation of what has been. However good and necessary the reform, it can only bring about a superficial change, which will again require further reform. There is no end to this process, because society is ever disintegrating within the pattern of its own existence. "Do you then maintain, sir, that all reform, however beneficial, is just so much patchwork, and that no amount of reform can bring about a total transformation of society?" Total transformation can never take place within the pattern of any society, whether that society be tyrannical or so-called democratic. "Is not a democratic society more significant and worth while than a police or tyrannical State?" Of course. "Then what do you mean by the pattern of society?" The pattern of society is human relationship based on ambition, envy, on the personal or collective desire for power, on the hierarchical attitude, on ideologies, dogmas, beliefs. Such a society may and generally does profess to believe in love, in goodness; but it is always ready to kill, to go to war. Within the pattern, change is no change at all, however revolutionary it may appear. When the patient needs a major operation, it's foolish merely to alleviate the symptoms. "But who's to be the surgeon?" You have to operate on yourself, and not rely on another, however good a specialist you may think him to be. You have to step out of the pattern of society, the pattern of greed, of acquisitiveness, of conflict. "Will my stepping out of the pattern affect society?" First step out of it, and see what happens. To stay within the pattern and ask what will happen if you step out of it is a form of escape, a perverted and useless inquiry. "Unlike these two gentlemen," said the third one in a mild and pleasant voice, "I know none of the eminent people; I move in a different circle altogether. I have never thought of becoming famous, but have remained in the background, anonymously doing my part. I gave up my wife, put away the joys of having a home and children, and devoted myself completely to the work of liberating our country. I did all this most earnestly and with great diligence. I sought no power for myself; I only wanted our country to be free, to grow into a holy nation, to have again the glory and the grace that was India. But I have seen all the things that have been going on; I have watched the conceit, the pomp, the corruption, the favouritism, and have heard the double talk of the various politicians, including the leaders of the party to which I belonged. I didn't sacrifice my life, my pleasures, my wife, my money, in order that corrupt men might rule the land. I eschewed power for the good of the country - only to see these ambitious politicians rise to positions of power. I now realize that I have spent vainly the best years of my life, and I feel like committing suicide." The others were silent, appalled by what had been said; for they were all politicians, in fact and at heart. Sir, most people do give a perverted twist to their lives, and perhaps discover it too late, or never at all. If they attain position and power, they do damage in the name of the country; they become mischief makers in the name of peace, or of God. Conceit and ambition rule the land everywhere, with varying degrees of barbarity and ruthlessness. political activity is concerned with only a very small part of life; it has its importance, but when it usurps the whole field of existence, as it is doing now, it becomes monstrous, corrupting thought and action. We glorify and respect the man in power, the leader, because in us there is the same craving for power and position, the same desire to control and to dictate. It is every individual who brings into being the leader; it is out of every man's confusion, envy, ambition, that the leader is made, and to follow the leader is to follow one's own demands, urges and frustrations. The leader and the follower are both responsible for the sorrow and the confusion of man. "I recognize the truth of what you are saying, though it is hard for me to acknowledge it. And now, after all these years, I really do not know what to do. I have wept with the tears of my heart, but what's the good of all that? I cannot undo what is done. I have encouraged thousands, by word and action, to accept and to follow. Many of them are like me, though not in my extreme plight; they have changed their allegiance from one leader to another, from one party to another, from one set of catch-words to another. But I am out of it all, and I don't want to go near any of the leaders again. I have striven in vain all these years; the garden I so carefully cultivated has turned to rubble and stone. My wife is dead, and I have no companion. I see now that I have followed man-made gods: the State, the authority of the leader and the subtle vanities of one's own importance. I have been blind and foolish." But if you really perceive that all you have worked for is foolish and vain, that it only leads to further misery, then there is already the beginning of clarity. When your intention is to go north, and you discover that you have actually been moving south, that very discovery is a turning to the north. Isn't that so? "It's not quite as simple as that. I see now that the path I have been following leads only to the misery and destruction of man; but I do not know any other path to take." There is no path to that which is beyond all the paths that men have made and trodden. To find that pathless reality, you have to see the truth in the false, or the false as the false. If you perceive that the path you have trodden is false - not in comparison with something else, not through the judgment of disappointment, nor through the evaluation of social morality, but false in itself - then that very perception of the false is awareness of the true. You do not have to follow the true: the true sets you free from the false. "But I still feel impelled to take my own life and end it all." The desire to end it all is the outcome of bitterness, of deep frustration. If the path you were following, even though utterly false in itself, had led to that which you had thought of as the goal; if, in a word, you had been successful, there would have been no sense of frustration, no bitter disappointment. Until you met with this final frustration, you never questioned what you were doing, you never inquired to find out if it were true or false in itself. If you had, things might have been very different. You were swept along by the current of self-fulfilment; and now it has left you isolated frustrated, disappointed. "I think I see what you mean. You are saying that any form of self-fulfilment - in the State, in good works, in some utopian dream - must inevitably lead to frustration, to this barren state of mind. I am now aware of that very clearly." The rich flowering of goodness in the mind - which is very different from being `good' in order to achieve an end, or to become something - is in itself right action. Love is its own action, its own eternity. "Though it is late," said the fourth one, "may I ask a question? Will belief in God help one to find Him?" To find truth, or God, there must be neither belief nor disbelief. The believer is as the non-believer; neither will find the truth, for their thought is shaped by their education, by their environment, by their culture, and by their own hopes and fears, joys and sorrows. A mind that is not free from all these conditioning influences can never find the truth, do what it will. "Then to seek God is not important?" How can a mind that is fearful, envious, acquisitive, discover that which is beyond itself? It will find only its own projections, the images, beliefs and conclusions in which it is caught. To find out what is true, or what is false, the mind must be free. To seek God without understanding oneself has very little meaning. Search with a motive is no search at all. "Can there ever be search without a motive?" When there's a motive for search, the end of the search is already known. Being unhappy, you seek happiness; therefore you have ceased to seek, for you think you already know what happiness is. "Then is search an illusion?" One among many. When the mind has no motive, when it is free and not urged on by any craving, when it is totally still, then truth is. You do not have to seek it; you cannot pursue or invite it. It must come. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES III CHAPTER 28 'THE NOISY CHILD AND THE SILENT MIND' THE CLOUDS HAD been coming through the wide gap in the mountains all day; piling themselves up against the western hills, they remained dark and threatening over the valley, and it would probably rain towards evening. The red earth was dry, but the trees and the wild bushes were green, for it had rained some weeks before. Many small streams wandered through the valley, but they would never reach the sea, for the people used the water to irrigate their rice fields. Some of these fields were cultivated and under water, ready to be planted, but most of them were already green with the sprouting rice. That green was incredible; it wasn't the green of well-watered mountain slopes, nor the green of well-kept lawns, nor the green of spring, nor the green of tender shoots among the older leaves of an orange tree. It was an altogether different green; it was the green of the Nile, of the olive, of verdigris, a blending of all these and more. There was in it a touch of the artificial, of the chemical; and in the morning, when the sun was just over the eastern hills, that green had the splendour and richness of the oldest parts of the earth. It was hard to believe that such a green could exist in this valley, known to so few, where only the villagers lived. To them it was a daily sight, a thing they had toiled for, knee-deep in water; and now, after long preparation and care, there were these fields of incredible green. The rain would help, and the dark clouds held a promises. Everywhere there was the darkness of the coming night, and of the low-hanging clouds; but a single ray of the setting sun touched the smooth side of a great rock on the hills towards the east, and it stood out in the gathering gloom. A group of villagers passed, talking loudly and driving their cattle before them. A goat had wandered off, and a little boy was making noises to call it back; it paid no attention, so he ran after it, angrily throwing stones, till at last it returned to the fold. It was now quite dark, but you could still see the edge of the path, and a white flower on a bush. An owl called from somewhere nearby, and another answered it from across the valleys The deep tone of their call vibrated inside of you, and you stopped to listens A few drops of rain fell. presently it began in earnest, and there was the goodly smell of rain on dry earth. It was a clean, pleasant room, with a red mat on the floor. There were no flowers in the room, but there was no need of them. Outside there was the green earth; in the blue sky a single cloud was wandering by, and a bird was calling. There were three of them, a woman and two men. One of the men had come from far up in the mountains, where he spent his life in solitude and contemplation. The other two were teachers from a school in one of the nearby towns. They had come by bus, as it was too far to bicycle. The bus was crowded, and the road was bad; but it was worth it, they said, for they had several things to talk over. They were both quite young, and said that they would soon be married. They explained how absurdly little they were paid, and said that it was going to be difficult to make ends meet, as prices were going up; but they seemed pleasant and happy, and enthusiastic about their work. The man from the mountains listened and was silent. "Among many other problems," began the lady teacher, "is that of noise. There is often so much noise in a school for younger children, that at times it becomes almost unbearable; you can hardly hear your- self speak. Of course, you can punish them, force them to be quiet; but it seems so natural for them to shout and let off steam." "But you have to forbid noise in certain places, such as the classroom and the dining hall, otherwise life would be impossible," replied the other teachers "You can't allow shouting and chattering all day long; there must be periods when all noise is stopped. Children have to be taught that there are others in this world besides themselves. Consideration of others is as important as arithmetic. I agree it is no good just forcing them to keep quiet through the threat of punishment; but on the other hand, reasonably talking things over with them doesn't seem to stop their constant yelling." "Noise-making is part of life at that age," went on his companion, "and it's unnatural for them to be silent in that stupid manner. But to be quiet is also part of existence, and though they don't seem to care for it at all, we have somehow to help them to be quiet when quietness is called for. In silence one hears more and sees more; that's why it's important for them to know silence." "I agree that they should be silent at certain times," said the other teacher, "but how are we to teach them to be silent? It would be absurd to see rows of children compelled to sit in silence; it would be a most unnatural, inhuman thing." Perhaps we can approach the problem differently. When are you irritated by a noise? A dog begins barking in the night; it wakes you, and you may or may not be able to do something about it. But it's only when there's a resistance to noise that it becomes a tiresome thing, a pain, an irritant. "It's more than an irritant when it lasts all day long," remonstrated the male teachers "It gets on your nerves, until you want to shout too." If it may be suggested, let us for the present put aside the noise of the children, and consider noise itself and its effect on each one of us. If necessary, we will consider the children and their noise later on. Now, when are you aware of a noise, in the disturbing sense? Surely, only when you resist it; and you resist it only when it's unpleasant. "That is so," he admitted "I welcome the pleasurable sounds of music; but the horrible yelling of the children I resist, and not always very happily." This resistance to noise increases the disturbance it makes. And that's what we do in our daily life: keeping the beautiful, we reject the ugly; resisting evil, we cultivate the good; eschewing hate, we think of love, and so on. There's always within us this self-contradiction, this conflict of the opposites; and such conflict leads nowhere. Isn't that so? "Self-contradiction is not a pleasant state," replied the lady teacher. "I know it all too well; and I suppose it's also quite useless." To be only partly sensitive is to be paralysed. To be open to beauty and resist ugliness is to have no sensitivity; to welcome silence and reject noise is not to be whole. To be sensitive is to be aware of both silence and noise, neither pursuing the one nor resisting the other; it is to be without self-contradiction, to be whole. "But in what way does this help the children?" asked the male teacher. When are the children silent? "When they are interested, absorbed in something. Then there's perfect peace." "It is not only then that they are silent," added his companion quickly. "When one is really quiet within oneself, the children somehow catch that feeling, and they also become quiet; they look at one rather awed, wondering what has happened. Haven't you noticed it?" "Of course I have," he replied. So that may be the answer. But we are so rarely silent; though we may not be talking, the mind goes right on chattering, carrying on a silent conversation, arguing with itself, imagining, recalling the past or speculating about the future. It is restless noisy, always struggling with something, is it not? "I had never thought of that," said the male teacher. "In that inward sense, one's mind is of course as noisy as the children themselves." We are noisy in other ways too, are we not? "Are we?" asked his companion. "When?" When we are emotionally stirred up: at a political meeting, at a festive board, when we are angry, when we are thwarted, and so on. "Yes, yes, that is so," she agreed. "When I am really excited, at games and so on, I do often find myself shouting, inwardly if not outwardly. Good Lord, there isn't much difference between us and the children, is there? And their noise is probably far more innocent than the noise we adults make." Do we know what silence is? "I am silent when I am absorbed in my work," the male teacher replied. "I am unaware of everything that's happening about me." So is the child when he is absorbed in a toy; but is that silence? "No," put in the solitary man from the hills. "There is silence only when one has complete control of the mind, when thought is dominated and there's no distraction. Noise, which is the chattering of the mind, must be suppressed for the mind to be still and silent." Is silence the opposite of noise? Suppression of the chattering mind indicates control in the sense of resistance, does it not? And is silence the result of resistance, control? If it is, is it silence? "I don't quite understand what you mean, sir. How can there be silence unless the mind's chattering is stopped, its wanderings brought under control? The mind is like a wild horse that must be tamed." As one of these teachers said earlier, it is no good forcing a child to be quiet. If you do, he may be quiet for a few minutes, but he will soon again begin making a noise. And is a child really quiet when you force him to be? Outwardly he may sit still through fear, or through hope of reward, but inwardly he is seething, waiting for a chance to resume his noisy chatter. This is so, isn't it? "But the mind is different. There is the higher part of the mind which must dominate and guide the lower." The teacher may also regard himself as a higher entity who must guide or shape the child's mind. The similarity is fairly obvious, isn't it? "Indeed it is," said the lady teacher. "But we still don't know what to do about the noisy child." Let's not consider what to do until we have fully understood the problem. This gentleman has said that the mind is different from a child; but if you observe them both, you will see that they are not so very different. There's a great similarity between the child and the mind. Suppression of either only tends to increase the urge to make noise, to chatter; there is an inward building up of tension which must and does find release in various ways. It's like a boiler building up a head of steam; it must have an outlet, or it will burst. "I don't want to argue," went on the man of the hills, "but how is the mind to stop its noisy chattering if not through control?" The mind may be stilled, and have transcendental experiences, through years of control, of suppression, of practising a system of yoga; or, by taking a modern drug, the same results may sometimes be achieved overnight. However you may achieve them the results depend on a method, and a method - perhaps the drug also - is the way of resistance, suppression, is it not? Now, is silence the suppression of noise? "It is," asserted the solitary man. Is love, then, the suppression of hate? "That's what we ordinarily think," put in the lady teacher, "but when one looks at the actual fact, one sees the absurdity of that way of thinking. If silence is merely the suppression of noise, then it's still related to noise, and such `silence' is noisy, it's not silence at all." "I don't quite understand this," said the man from the hills. "We all know what noise is, and if we eliminate it, we shall know what silence is." Sir, instead of talking theoretically, let's make an experiment right now. Let's go slowly and hesitantly, step by step, and see if we can directly experience and understand the actual functioning of the mind. "That would be greatly beneficial." If I ask you a simple question, like `Where do you live?', your reply is immediate, is it not? "Of course." Why? "Because I know the answer, it is quite familiar to me." So the thinking process takes only a second, it is over in a flash; but a more complex question requires a longer time to answer; there's a certain hesitancy. Is this hesitancy silence? "I don't know." A gap of time exists between a complex question and your response to it, because your mind is looking into the records of memory to find an answer. This time-gap is not silence, is it? In this interval there is going on an inquiry, a groping, a seeking out. It's an activity, a movement into the past; but it's not silence. "I see that. Any movement of the mind, whether into the past or into the future, is obviously not silence." Now, let's go a little further. To a question whose answer you cannot find in the records of memory, what is your reply? "I can only say that I don't know." And what then is the state of your mind? "It's a state of eager suspense," put in the lady teacher. In that suspense you are waiting for an answer, aren't you? So there's still a movement an expectancy in the gap between two chatterings, between the question and the final answer. This expectancy is not silence, is it? "I am beginning to see what you are getting at," replied the solitary one. "I perceive that neither this waiting for an answer nor the scrutiny of past things is silence. Then what is silence?" If all movement of the mind is noise, then is silence the opposite of that noise? Is love the opposite of hate? Or is silence a state totally unrelated to noise, to chatter, to hate? "I don't know." Please consider what you are saying. When you say you don't know, what's the state of your mind? "I'm afraid I'm again waiting for an answer, expecting you to tell me what silence is." In other words, you are expecting a verbal description of silence; and any description of silence must be related to noise; so it's part of noise, isn't it? "I really don't understand this, sir." A question sets the machine of memory going, which is a thinking process. If the question is very familiar, the machine answers instantaneously. If the question is more complex, the machine takes a longer time to reply; it has to grope among the records of memory to find the answer. And when a question is asked whose answer is not on the record the machine says, `I don't know'. Surely, this whole process the mechanism of noise. However outwardly silent, the mind is in operation all the time, isn't it? "Yes," he replied eagerly. Now, is silence merely the stopping of this mechanism? Or is silence totally apart from the mechanism, be it stopped or working? "Are you saying, sir, that love is wholly apart from hate, whether hate is there or not?" asked the lady teacher. Isn't it? Into the fabric of hate, love can never be woven. If it is, then it's not love. It may have all the appearance of love, but it's not; it's something entirely different. This is really important to understand. An ambitious man can never know peace; ambition must cease entirely, and only then will there be peace. When a politician talks of peace, it is merely double talk, for to be a politician is to be at heart ambitious, violent. The understanding of what is true and what is false is its own ac tion, and such action will be efficient, effective `practical'. But most of us are so caught up in action, in doing or organizing something or in carrying out some plan, that to be concerned with what is true and what is false seems complex and unnecessary. That is why all our action inevitably leads to mischief and misery. The mere absence of hate is not love. To tame hate, to force it to be still, is not to love. Silence is not the outcome of noise, it is not a reaction whose cause is noise. The `silence' that grows from noise has its roots in noise. Silence is a state totally outside the machinery of the mind; the mind cannot conceive of it, and the mind's attempts to reach silence are still part of noise. Silence is in no way related to noise. Noise must totally cease for silence to be. When there is silence in the teacher, it will help the children to be silent. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES III CHAPTER 29 'WHERE THERE IS ATTENTION, REALITY IS' THE CLOUDS WERE against the hills, hiding them and the mountains beyond. It had been raining all day, a soft drizzle which didn't wash away the earth, and there was in the air the pleasant smell of the jasmine and the rose. The grain was ripening in the fields; among the rocks, where the goats fed, were low bushes, with here and there a gnarled old tree. There was a spring high up on the hillside that was always flowing, summer and winter, and the water made a pleasant sound as it ran down the hill, past a grove of trees, and disappeared among the open fields beyond the village. A small bridge of cut stone was being built over the stream by the villagers, under the supervision of a local engineer. He was a friendly old man, and they worked in a leisurely manner when he was about. But when he was not there, only one or two carried on; the rest of them, putting down their tools and their baskets, sat around and talked. Along the path by the stream came a villager with a dozen donkeys. They were returning from the nearby town with empty sacks. These donkeys had thin, graceful legs, and they were trotting along quite fast, pausing now and then to nibble the green grass on each side of the path. They were going home, and had not to be driven. All along the path there were little plots of cultivated land, and a gentle breeze wag stirring among the young corn. In a small house, a woman with a clear voice was singing; it brought tears to your eyes, not from some nostalgic remembrance, but from the sheer beauty of the sound. You sat under a tree, and the earth and the heavens entered your being. Beyond the song and the red earth was the silence, the total silence, in which all life is in movement. There were now fireflies among the trees and bushes, and in the gathering darkness they were bright and clear; the amount of light they gave was surprising. On a dark rock, the soft, flashing light of a single firefly held the light of the world. He was young and very earnest, with clear, sharp eyes. Although in his thirties, he was not yet married; but sex and marriage were not a serious problem, he added. A well-built man, he had vigour in his gestures and in his walk. He was not given to much reading, but he had read a certain number of serious books, and had thought about things. Employed in some governmental office, he said his pay was good enough. He liked outdoor games, especially tennis, at which he was evidently quite good. He didn't care for cinemas, and had but few friends. It was his practice, he explained, to meditate morning and evening for about an hour; and after hearing the previous evening's talk, he had decided to come along to discuss the meaning and significance of meditation. As a boy, he often used to go with his father into a small room to meditate; he could bring himself to stay there for only ten minutes or so, and his father didn't seem to mind. That room had a single picture on the wall, and no member of the family went into it except for the purpose of meditation. While his father had neither encouraged nor discouraged him in the matter, and had never told him how to meditate, or what it was all about, somehow, ever since he was a boy, he had liked to meditate. While he was in college, it had been difficult for him to keep regular hours; but later, once he got a job, he had meditated for an hour every morning and every evening, and now he wouldn't miss those two hours of meditation for anything in the world. "I have come, sir, not to argue, or to defend anything, but to learn. Although I have read about the various types of meditation for different temperaments, and have evolved a way of controlling my thoughts I am not foolish enough to imagine that what I am doing is really meditation. However, if I am not mistaken, most authorities on meditation do advocate control of thought; that seems to be the essence of it. I have also practised a little yoga as a means of quieting the mind: special breathing exercises, repeating certain words and chants, and so on. All this is merely by way of introducing myself, and it may not be important. The point is, I am really interested in practising meditation, it has become vital to me, and I want to know more about it." Meditation has significance only when there's an understanding of the meditator. In practising what you call meditation, the meditator is apart from the meditation, isn't he? Why is there this difference, this gap between them? Is it inevitable, or must the gap be bridged? Without really understanding the truth or the falseness of this apparent division, the results of so-called meditation are similar to those which can be brought about by any tranquillizer that is taken to quiet the mind. If one's purpose is to bring thought under domination, then any system or drug that produces the desired effect will do. "But you wipe away at one stroke all the yogic exercises, the traditional systems of meditation that have been practised and advocated through the centuries by the many saints and ascetics. How can they all be wrong?" Why shouldn't they all be wrong? Why this gullibility? Is not a tempered scepticism helpful in understanding this whole problem of meditation? You accept because you are eager for results, for success; you want to `arrive'. To understand what meditation is, there must be questioning, inquiry; and mere acceptance destroys inquiry. You have to see for yourself the false as the false, and the truth in the false and the truth as the truth; for none can instruct you concerning it. Meditation is the way of life, it is part of daily existence, and the fullness and beauty of life can only be understood through meditation. Without understanding the whole complexity of life, and the everyday reactions from moment to moment, meditation becomes a process of self-hypnosis. Meditation of the heart is the understanding of daily problems. You can't go very far if you don't begin very near. "I can understand that. One cannot climb the mountain without first going through the valley. I have endeavoured in my daily life to remove the obvious barriers, like greed, envy, and so on, and somewhat to my own surprise I have managed to put aside the things of the world. I quite see and appreciate that a right foundation must be laid, otherwise no building can stand. But meditation isn't merely a matter of taming the burning desires and passions. The passions must be subjugated, brought under control; but surely, sir, meditation is something more than this, isn't it? I am not quoting any authority, but I do feel that meditation is something far greater than merely laying the right foundation." That may be; but at the very beginning is the totality. It is not that one must first lay the right foundation, and then build, or first be free from envy, and then `arrive'. In the very beginning is the ending. There's no distance to be covered, no climbing, no point of arrival. Meditation itself is timeless, it's not a way of arriving at a timeless state. It is, without a beginning and without an ending. But these are mere words, and they will remain as such as long as you don't inquire into and understand for yourself the truth and the falseness of the meditator. "Why is that so important?" The meditator is the censor, the watcher, the maker of `right' and `wrong' effort. He's the centre, and from there he weaves the net of thought; but thought itself has made him; thought has brought about this gap between the thinker and the thought. Unless this division ceases, so-called meditation only strengthens the centre, the experiencer who thinks of himself as apart from the experience. The experiencer always craving more experience; each experience strengthens the accumulation of past experiences, which in turn dictates, shapes the present experience. Thus the mind is ever conditioning itself. So experience and knowledge are not the liberating factors that they are supposed to be. "I'm afraid I don't understand all this," he said, rather bewildered. The mind is free only when it is no longer conditioned by its own experiences, by knowledge, by vanity, envy; and meditation is the freeing of the mind from all these things, from all self-centred activities and influences. "I realize that the mind must be free from all self-centred activities, but I do not quite follow what you mean by influences." Your mind is the result of influence, isn't it? From childhood your mind is influenced by the food you eat, by the climate you live in, by your parents, by the books you read, by the cultural environment in which you are educated, and so on. You are taught what to believe and what not to believe; your mind is a result of time, which is memory, knowledge. All experiencing is a process of interpreting in terms of the past, of the known, and so there's no freedom from the known; there is only a modified continuity of what has been. The mind is free only when this continuity comes to an end. "But how does one know that one's mind is free?" This very desire to be certain, to be secure, is the beginning of bondage. It's only when the mind is not caught in the net of certainty, and is not seeking certainty, that it is in a state of discovery. "The mind does want to be certain about everything, and I see now how this desire can be a hindrance." What is important is to die to everything that one has accumulated, for this accumulation is the self, the ego, the `me'. Without the ending of this accumulation there is the continuity of the desire to be certain, as there is the continuation of the past. "Meditation, I am beginning to see, is not simple. Just to control thought is comparatively easy, and to worship an image, or to repeat certain words and chants, is merely to put the mind to sleep; but real meditation seems to be much more complex and arduous than I ever imagined." It is really not complex, though it may be arduous. You see, we don't start with the actual, with the fact, with what we are thinking, doing, desiring; we start with assumptions or with ideals, which are not actualities, and so we are led astray. To start with facts, and not with assumptions, we need close attention; and every form of thinking not originating from the actual is a distraction. That's why it is so important to understand what is actually taking place both within and around one. "Are not visions actualities?" Are they? Let's find out. If you are a Christian, your visions follow a certain pattern; if you are a Hindu, a Buddhist, or a Moslem, they follow a different pattern. You see Christ or Krishna, according to your conditioning; your education, the culture in which you have been brought up, determines your visions. Which is the actuality: the vision, or the mind which has been shaped in a certain mould? The vision is the projection of the particular tradition which happens to form the background of the mind. This conditioning, not the vision which it projects, is the actuality, the fact. To understand the fact is simple; but it is made difficult by our likes and dislikes, by of the fact, by the opinions or judgments we have about the fact. To be free of these various forms of evaluation is to understand the actual, the what is. "You are saying that we never look at a fact directly, but always through our prejudices and memories, through our traditions and our experiences based upon these traditions. To use your word, we are never aware of ourselves as we actually are. Again, I see that you are right, sir. The fact is the one thing that matters." Let us look at the whole problem differently. What is attention? When are you attentive? And do you ever really pay attention to anything? "I pay attention when I am interested in something." Is interest attention? When you are interested in something, what's actually happening to the mind? You are evidently interested in watching those cattle go by; what is this interest? "I am attracted by their movement, their colour, their form, against the green background." Is there attention in this interest? "I think there is." A child is absorbed in a toy. Would you call that attention? "Isn't it?" The toy absorbs the interest of the child, it takes over his mind, and he's quiet, no longer restless; but take away the toy, and he again becomes restless, he cries, and so on. Toys become important because they keep him quiet. It is the same with grownups. Take away their toys - activity, belief, ambition, the desire for power, the worshipping of gods or of the state, the championing of a cause -and they too become restless, lost, confused; so the toys of the grownups also become important. Is there attention when the toy absorbs the mind? The toy is a distraction, is it not? The toy becomes all-important, and not the mind which is taken over by the toy. To understand what attention is, we must be concerned with the mind, not with the toys of the mind. "Our toys, as you call them, hold the mind's interest." The toy which holds the mind's interest may be the Master, a picture, or any other image made by the hand or by the mind; and this holding of the mind's interest by a toy is called concentration. Is such concentration attention? When you are concentrated in this manner and the mind is absorbed in a toy, is there attention? Is not such concentration a narrowing down of the mind? And is this attention? "As I have practised concentration, it is a struggle to keep the mind fixed upon a particular point to the exclusion of all other thoughts, all distractions." Is there attention when there is resistance against distractions? Surely, distractions arise only when the mind has lost interest in the toy; and then there's a conflict, isn't there? "Certainly, there's a conflict to overcome the distractions." Can you pay attention when there's a conflict going on in the mind? "I am beginning to see what you are driving at, sir. Please proceed." When the toy absorbs the mind, there's no attention; neither is there attention when the mind is struggling to concentrate by excluding distractions. As long as there's an object of attention, is there attention? "Aren't you saying the same thing, only using the word `object' instead of `toy'?" The object, or toy, may be external; but there are also inward toys, are there not? "Yes, sir, you have enumerated some of them. I am aware of this." A more complex toy is motive. Is there attention when there's a motive to be attentive? "What do you mean by a motive?" A compulsion to action; an urge towards self-improvement, based on fear, greed, ambition; a cause that drives you to seek; suffering that makes you want to escape, and so on. Is there attention when some hidden motive is in operation? "When I am compelled to be attentive by pain or pleasure, by fear or the hope of reward, then there's no attention. Yes, I see what you mean. This is very clear, sir, and I am following you." So there's no attention when we approach anything in that manner. And does not the word, the name, interfere with attention? For example, do we ever look at the moon without verbalization, or does the word `moon' always interfere with our looking? Do we ever listen to anything with attention, or do our thoughts, our interpretations, and so on, interfere with our listening? Do we ever really pay attention to anything? Surely attention has no motive, no object, no toy; no struggle, no verbalization. This is true attention, is it not? Where there is attention, reality is. "But it's impossible to pay such full attention to anything!" he exclaimed. "If one could, there wouldn't be any problems." Every other form of `attention' only increases the problems, doesn't it? "I see that it does, but what is one to do?" When you see that any concentration on toys, any action based on motive, whatever it be, only furthers mischief and misery, then in this seeing of the false there's the perception of the true; and truth has its own action. All this is meditation. "If I may say so, sir, I have rightly listened, and have really understood many of the things you have explained. What is understood will have its own effect, without my interfering with its I hope I may come again." COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES III CHAPTER 30 'SELF-INTEREST DECAYS THE MIND' WINDING FROM ONE side of the valley to the other, the path crossed over a small bridge where the swiftly-running water was brown from the recent rains. Turning north, it led on over gentle slopes to a secluded village. That village and its people were very poor. The dogs were mangy, and they would bark from a distance never venturing near, their tails down, their heads held high, ready to run. Many goats were scattered about on the hillside, bleating, and eating the wild bushes. It was beautiful country, green, with blue hills. The bare granite projecting from the tops of the hills had been washed by the rains of countless centuries. These hills were not high, but they were very old, and against the blue sky they had a fantastic beauty, that strange loveliness of measureless time. They were like the temples that man builds to resemble them, in his longing to reach the heavens. But that evening, with the setting sun on them, these hills seemed very close. Far to the south a storm was gathering, and the lightning among the clouds gave a strange feeling to the land. The storm would break during the night; but the hills had stood through the storms of untold ages, and they would always be there, beyond all the toil and sorrow of man. The villagers were returning to their homes, weary after a day's work in the fields. Soon you would see smoke rising from their huts as they prepared the evening meal. It wouldn't be much; and the children, waiting for their meal, would smile as you went by. They were large-eyed and shy of strangers, but they were friendly. Two little girls held small babies on their hips while their mothers were cooking; the babies would slip down, and get jerked up onto the hips again. Though only ten or twelve years old, these little girls were already used to holding babies; and they both smiled. The evening breeze was among the trees, and the cattle were being brought in for the night. On that path there was now no other person, not even a lonely villagers The earth seemed suddenly empty, strangely quiet. The new, young moon was just over the dark hills. The breeze had stopped, not a leaf was stirring; everything was still, and the mind was completely alone. It wasn't lonely, isolated, enclosed within its own thought, but alone, untouched, uncontaminated. It wasn't aloof and distant, apart from the things of the earth. It was alone, and yet with everything; because it was alone, everything was of it. That which is separate knows itself as being separated; but this aloneness knew no separation, no division. The trees, the stream, the villager calling in the distance, were all within this aloneness. It was not an identification with man, with the earth, for all identification had utterly vanished. In this aloneness, the sense of the passing of time had ceased. There were three of them, a father, his son and a friends The father must have been in his late fifties, the son in his thirties, and the friend was of uncertain age. The two older men were bald, but the son still had plenty of hair. He had a well-shaped head, a rather short nose and wide-set eyes. His lips were restless, though he sat quietly enough. The father had seated himself behind his son and the friend, saying that he would take part in the talk if necessary, but otherwise would just watch and listen. A sparrow came to the open window and flew away again, frightened by so many people in the room. It knew that room, and would often perch on the window-sill, chirping softly, without fear. "Though my father may not take part in the conversation," the son began, "he wants to be in on it, for the problem is one that concerns us all. My mother would have come had she not been feeling so unwell, and she is looking forward to the report we shall make to her. We have read some of the things you have said and my father particularly has followed your talks from afar; but it is only within the last year or so that I have myself taken a real interest in what you are saying. Until recently, politics have absorbed the greater part of my interest and enthusiasm; but I have begun to see the immaturity of politics. The religious life is only for the maturing mind, and not for politicians and lawyers. I have been a fairly successful lawyer, but am a lawyer no longer, as I want to spend the remaining years of my life in something vastly more significant and worth whiles I am speaking also for my friend, who wanted to accompany us when he heard we were coming here. You see, sir, our problem is the fact that we are all growing old. Even I, though still comparatively young, am coming to that period of life when time seems to fly, when one's days seem so short and death so near. Death, for the moment at least, is not a problem; but old age is." What do you mean by old age? Are you referring to the aging of the physical organism, or of the mind? "The aging of the body is of course inevitable, it wears out through use and disease. But need the mind age and deteriorate?" To think speculatively is futile and a waste of time. Is the deterioration of the mind a supposition, or an actual fact? "It is a fact, sir. I am aware that my mind is growing old, tired; slow deterioration is taking place." Is this not also a problem with the young, though they may still be unaware of it? Their minds are even now set in a mould; their thought is already enclosed within a narrow pattern. But what do you mean when you say that your mind is growing old? "It is not as pliable, as alert as sensitive as it used to be. Its awareness is shrinking; its responses to the many challenges of life are increasingly from the storage of the past. It's deteriorating, functioning more and more within the limits of its own setting." Then what makes the mind deteriorate? It is self-protectiveness and resistance to change, is it not? Each one has a vested interest which he is consciously or unconsciously protecting, watching over, and not allowing anything to disturb. "Do you mean a vested interest in property?" Not only in property, but in relationships of every kind. Nothing can exist in isolation. Life is relationship; and the mind has a vested interest in its relationship to people, to ideas, and to things. This self-interest, and the refusal to bring about a fundamental revolution within itself, is the beginning of the mind's deterioration. Most minds are conservative, they resist changes Even the so-called revolutionary mind is conservative, for once it has gained its revolutionary success, it also resists change; the revolution itself becomes its vested interest. Even though the mind, whether it be conservative or so-called revolutionary, may permit certain modifications on the fringes of its activities, it resists all change at the centre. Circumstances may compel it to yield, to adapt itself, with pain or with ease, to a different pattern; but the centre remains hard, and it's this centre that causes the deterioration of the minds. "What do you mean by the centre?" Don't you know? Are you seeking a description of it? "No, sir, but through the description I may touch it, get the feeling of it." "Sir," put in the father, "we may intellectually be aware of that centre, but actually most of us have never come face to face with its I have myself seen it cunningly and subtly described in various books, but I have never really confronted it; and when you ask if we know it, I for one can only say that I don't. I only know the descriptions of it." "It is again our vested interest," added the friend, "our deep-rooted desire for security, that prevents us from knowing that centres I don't know my own son, though I have lived with him from infancy, and I know even less that which is much closer than my son. To know it one must look at it, observe it, listen to it, but I never do. I am always in a hurry; and when occasionally I do look at it, I am at odds with it." We are talking of the aging, the deteriorating mind. The mind is ever building the pattern of its own certainty, the security of its own interests; the words, the form, the expression may vary from time to time, from culture to culture, but the centre of self-interest remains. It is this centre that causes the mind to deteriorate, however outwardly alert and active it may be. This centre is not a fixed point, but various points within the mind, and so it's the mind itself. Improvement of the mind, or moving from one centre to another, does not banish these centres; discipline, suppression or sublimation of one centre only establishes another in its place. Now, what do we mean when we say we are alive? "Ordinarily," replied the son, "we consider ourselves alive when we talk, when we laugh, when there's sensation, when there's thought, activity, conflict, joy." So what we call living is acceptance or `revolt' within the social pattern; it's a movement within the cage of the mind. Our life is an endless series of pains and pleasures, fears and frustrations, wanting and graspings; and when we do consider the mind's deterioration, and ask whether it's possible to put an end to it, our inquiry is also within the cage of the mind. Is this living? "I'm afraid we know no other life," said the father. "As we grow older, pleasures shrink while sorrows seem to increase; and if one is at all thoughtful, one is aware that one's mind is gradually deteriorating. The body inevitably grows old and knows decay; but how is one to prevent this aging of the mind?" We lead a thoughtless life, and towards the end of it we begin to wonder why the mind decays, and how to arrest the process. Surely, what matters is how we live our days, not only when we are young, but also in middle life, and during the declining years. The right kind of life demands of us far more intelligence than any vocation for earning a livelihood. Right thinking is essential for right living. "What do you mean by right thinking?" asked the friend. There's a vast difference, surely, between right thinking and right thought. Right thinking is constant awareness; right thought, on the other hand, is either conformity to a pattern set by society, or a reaction against society. Right thought is static, it is a process of grouping together certain concepts, called ideals, and following them. Right thought inevitably builds up the authoritarian, hierarchical outlook and engenders respectability; whereas right thinking is awareness of the whole process of conformity, imitation acceptance, revolt. Right thinking, unlike right thought, is not a thing to be achieved; it arises spontaneously with self-knowledge, which is the perception of the ways of the self. Right thinking cannot be learnt from books, or from another; it comes through the mind's awareness of itself in the action of relationship. But there can be no understanding of this action as long as the mind justifies or condemns it. So, right thinking eliminates conflict and self-contradiction, which are the fundamental causes of the mind's deterioration. "Is not conflict an essential part of life?" asked the son. "If we did not struggle, we would merely vegetate." We think we are alive when we are caught up in the conflict of ambition, when we are driven by the compulsion of envy, when desire pushes us into action; but all this only leads to greater misery and confusion. Conflict increases self-centred activity, but the understanding of conflict comes about through right thinking. "Unfortunately this process of struggle and misery, with some joy, is the only life we know," said the father. "There are intimations of another kind of life, but they are few and far between. To go beyond this mess and find that other life is ever the object of our search." To search for what is beyond the actual is to be caught in illusion. Everyday existence, with its ambitions, envies, and so on, must be understood; but to understand it demands awareness right thinking. There's no right thinking when thought starts with an assumption, a bias. Setting out with a conclusion, or looking for a preconceived answer, puts an end to right thinking; in fact, there is then no thinking at all. So, right thinking is the foundation of righteousness. "It seems to me," put in the son, "that at least one of the factors in this whole problem of the mind's deterioration is the question of right occupation." What do you mean by right occupation? "I have noticed, sir, that those who become wholly absorbed in some activity or profession soon forget themselves; they are too busy to think about themselves, which is a good thing." But isn't such absorption an escape from oneself? And to escape from oneself is wrong occupation; it is corrupting, it breeds enmity, division, and so on. Right occupation comes through the right kind of education, and with the understanding of oneself. Haven't you noticed that whatever the activity or profession, the self consciously or unconsciously uses it as a means for its own gratification, for the fulfilment of its ambition, or for the achievement of success in terms of power? "That is so, unfortunately. We seem to use everything we touch for our own advancement." It is this self-interest, this constant self-advancement, that makes the mind petty; and though its activity be extensive, though it be occupied with politics science, art, research, or what you will, there is a narrowing down of thinking, a shallowness that brings about deterioration, decay. Only when there's understanding of the totality of the mind, the unconscious as well as the conscious, is there a possibility of the mind's regeneration. "Worldliness is the curse of the modern generation," said the father. "It is carried away by the things of the world, and does not give thought to serious things." This generation is like other generations. Worldly things are not merely refrigerators, silk shirts, airplanes, television sets, and so on; they include ideals, the seeking of power, whether personal or collective, and the desire to be secure, either in this world or the next. All this corrupts the mind and brings about its decay. The problem of deterioration is to be understood at the beginning, in one's youth, not at the period of physical decline. "Does that mean there's no hope for us?" Not at all. It's more arduous to stop the mind's deterioration at our age, that's all. To bring about a radical change in the ways of our life, there must be expanding awareness, and a great depth of feeling which is love. With love everything is possible. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES III CHAPTER 31 'THE IMPORTANCE OF CHANCE' The large black ants had made a path through the grass, across a stretch of sand, over a pile of rubble and through the gap in an ancient wall. A little beyond the wall was a hole which was their home. There was an extraordinary coming and going on that path, an incessant bustle in both directions. Each ant would hesitate a second as it went by another; their heads would touch, and on they would go again. There must have been thousands of them. Only when the sun was directly overhead was that path deserted, and then all activity would be centred around their nest near the wall; they were excavating, each ant bringing out a grain of sand, a pebble or a bit of earth. When you gently knocked on the ground nearby, there was a general scramble. They would pour out of the hole, looking for the aggressor; but soon they would settle down and resume their work. As soon as the sun was on its westerly course and the evening breeze blew pleasantly cool from the mountains, they would march out again on their path, populating the silent world of the grass, the sand and the rubble. They went along that path for quite a distance, hunting, and they would find so many things: the leg of a grasshopper, a dead frog, the remains of a bird, a half-eaten lizard or some grain. Everything was attacked with fury; what couldn't be carried away was eaten on the spot, or taken home in pieces. Only rain stopped their constant activity, and with the last drops they were out again. If you put your finger on their path, they would feel all around the tip, and a few would climb up it, only to come down again. The ancient wall had a life of its own. Near the top there were holes in which bright green parrots, with curving red beaks, had made their nests. They were a shy lot, and didn't like you to come too near. Screeching and clinging to the crumbling red bricks, they would wait to see what you were going to do. If you didn't come any nearer, they would wriggle into the holes, leaving only their pale green tail feathers sticking out; there would then be another wriggle, the feathers would disappear, and their red beaks and shapely green heads would be showing. They were settling down for the night. The wall enclosed an ancient tomb whose dome, catching the last rays of the setting sun, glowed as if someone had turned on a light from within. The whole structure was well-built and splendidly proportioned; it had not a line that could jar you, and it stood out against the evening sky, seemingly freed from the earth. All things were intensely alive, and all things - the ancient tomb, the crumbling red bricks, the green parrots, the busy ants, the whistle of a distant train, the silence and the stars - were merged into the totality of life. It was a benediction. Although it was late, they had wanted to come, so we all went into the room. Lanterns had to be lit, and in the hurry one was broken, but the remaining two gave enough light for us to see each other as we sat in a circle on the floor. One of those who had come was a clerk in some office; he was small and nervous, and his hands were never still. Another must have had a little more money, for he owned a shop and had the air of a man who was making his way in the world. Heavily built and rather fat, he was inclined to easy laughter, but was now serious. The third visitor was an old man, and being retired, he explained, he had more time to study the Scriptures and perform puja, a religious ceremony. The fourth was an artist with long hair, who watched with a steady eye every movement, every gesture we made; he wasn't going to miss anything. We were all silent for a while. Through the open window one or two stars could be seen, and the strong perfume of jasmine came into the room. "I would like to sit quietly like this for a longer period," said the merchant. "It's a blessing to feel this quality of silence, it has a healing effect; but I don't want to waste time explaining my immediate feelings, and I suppose I had better get on with what I came to talk about. I have had a very strenuous life, more so than most people; and while I am not by any means a rich man, I am now comfortably well off. I have always tried to lead a religious life. I haven't been too covetous, I have been charitable, and I haven't deceived others unnecessarily; but when you are in business, you have sometimes to avoid telling the exact truth. I could have made a great deal more money, but I denied myself that pleasure. I amuse myself in simple ways but on the whole I have led a serious life; it could have been better, but it really hasn't been bad. I am married, and have two children. Briefly, sir, that's my personal history. I have read some of your books and attended your discourses, and I have come here to be instructed in how to lead a more deeply religious life. But I must let the other gentlemen talk." "My work is a rather tiresome routine, but I am not qualified for any other job," said the clerk. "My own needs are few, and I am not married; but I have to support my parents, and I am also helping my younger brother through college. I am not at all religious in the orthodox sense, but the religious life appeals to me very strongly. I am often tempted to give up everything and become a sannyasi, but a sense of responsibility to my parents and my brother makes me hesitate. I have meditated every day for many years, and since hearing your explanation of what real meditation is, I have tried to follow it; but it's very difficult, at least for me, and I can't seem to get into the way of it. Also, my position as a clerk, which requires me to work all day long at something in which I have not the slightest interest, is hardly conducive to higher thought. But I deeply crave to find the truth, if it's ever possible for me to do so, and while I am young I want to set a right course for the rest of my life; so here I am." "For my part," said the old man, "I am fairly familiar with the Scriptures, and since retiring as a government official several years ago, my time is my own. I have no responsibilities; all my children are grown up and married, so I am free to meditate, to read, and to talk of serious things. I have always been interested in the religious life. From time to time I have listened attentively to one or other of the various teachers, but I have never been satisfied. In some cases their teachings are utterly childish, while others are dogmatic, ortho- dox and merely explanatory. I have recently been attending some of your talks and discussions. I follow a great deal of what you say, but there are certain points with which I cannot agree - or rather, which I don't understand. Agreement, as you have explained, can exist with regard to opinions, conclusions, ideas, but there can be no `agreement' with regard to truth; either one sees it, or one does not. Specifically, I would like further clarification on the ending of thought." "I am an artist, but not yet a very good one," said the man with the long hair. "I hope one day to go to Europe to study art; here we have mediocre teachers. To me, beauty in any form is an expression of reality; it's an aspect of the divine. Before I start to paint I meditate, like the ancients, on the deeper beauty of life. I try to drink at the spring of all beauty, to catch a glimpse of the sublime, and only then do I begin my day's painting. Sometimes it comes through, but more often it doesn't; however hard I try, nothing seems to happen, and whole days, even weeks, are wasted. I have also tried fasting, along with various exercises, both physical and intellectual, hoping to awaken the creative feeling; but all to no avail. Everything else is secondary to that feeling, without which one cannot be a true artist, and I will go to the ends of the earth to find it. That is why I have come here." All of us sat quietly for a time, each with his own thoughts. Are your several problems different, or are they similar, though they may appear to be different? Is it not possible that there is one basic issue underlying them all? "I am not sure that my problem is in any way related to that of the artist," said the merchant. "He is after inspiration, the creative feeling, but I want to lead a more deeply spiritual life." "That's precisely what I want to do too," replied the artist, "only I have expressed it differently." We like to think that our particular problem is exclusive, that our sorrow is entirely different from that of others; we want to remain separate at all costs. But sorrow is sorrow, whether it is yours or mine. If we don't understand this, we cannot proceed; we shall feel cheated, disappointed, frustrated. Surely, all of us here are after the same thing; the problem of each is essentially the problem of all. If we really feel the truth of this, then we have already gone a long way in our understanding, and we can inquire together; we can help each other, listen to and learn from each other. Then the authority of a teacher has no meaning, it becomes silly. Your problem is the problem of another; your sorrow is the sorrow of another. Love is not exclusive. If this is clear, sirs, let us proceed. "I think we all now see that our problems are not unrelated," replied the old man, and the others nodded in approval. Then what is our common problem? please don't answer immediately, but let us consider. Is it not, sirs, that there must be a fundamental transformation in oneself? Without this transformation, inspiration is always transitory, and there is a constant struggle to recapture it; without this transformation, any effort to lead a spiritual life can only be very superficial, a matter of rituals, of the bell and the book; without this transformation, meditation becomes a means of escape, a form of self-hypnosis. "That is so," said the old man. "Without a deep inward change, all effort to be religious or spiritual is a mere scratching on the surface." "I am entirely one with you, sir," added the man from the office. "I do feel that there must be a fundamental change in me, otherwise I shall go on like this for the rest of my life, groping, asking and doubting. But how is one to bring about this change?" "I also can see that there must be an explosive change within myself if that which I am groping after is to come into being," said the artist. "A radical transformation in oneself is obviously essential. But, as that gentleman has already asked, how is such a change to be brought about?" Let us give our minds and hearts to the discovery of the manner of its happening. What is important, surely, is to feel the urgent necessity of changing fundamentally, and not merely be persuaded by the words of another that you ought to change. An exciting description may stimulate you to feel that you must change, but such a feeling is very superficial, and it will pass away when the stimulant is gone. But if you yourself see the importance of change, if you feel, without any form of compulsion, without any motivation or influence that radical transformation is essential, then this very feeling is the action of transformation. "But how is one to have this feeling?" asked the merchant. What do you mean by the word `how'? "Since I have not got this feeling for change, how can I cultivate it?" Can you cultivate this feeling? Must it not arise spontaneously from your own direct perception of the utter necessity for a radical transformation? The feeling creates its own means of action. By logical reasoning you may come to the conclusion that a fundamental change is necessary, but such intellectual or verbal comprehension does not bring about the action of change. "Why not?" asked the old man. Is not intellectual or verbal comprehension a superficial response? You hear, you reason, but your whole being does not enter into it. Your surface mind may agree that a change is necessary, but the totality of your mind is not giving its complete attention; it's divided in itself. "Do you mean, sir, that the action of change takes place only when there's total attention?" asked the artist. Let's consider it. One part of the mind is convinced that this fundamental change is necessary, but the rest of the mind is unconcerned; it may be in abeyance, or asleep, or actively opposed to such a change. When this happens, there's a contradiction within the mind, one part wanting change, and the other being indifferent or opposed to change. The resulting conflict, in which that part of the mind which wants change is trying to overcome the recalcitrant part, is called discipline, sublimation, suppression; it is also called following the ideal. An attempt is being made to build a bridge over the gap of self-contradiction. There is the ideal, the intellectual or verbal comprehension that there must be a fundamental transformation and the vague but actual feeling of not wanting to be bothered, the desire to let things go on as they are the fear of change, of insecurity. So there's a division in the mind; and the pursuit of the ideal is an attempt to bring together the two contradictory parts, which is an impossibility. We pursue the ideal because it doesn't demand immediate action; the ideal is an accepted and respected postponement. "Then is trying to change oneself always a form of postponement?" asked the man from the office. Isn't it? Haven't you noticed that when you say, "I will try to change," you have no intention of changing at all? You either change, or you don't; trying to change has actually very little significance. pursuing the ideal, attempting to change, compelling the two contradictory parts of the mind to come together by the action of the will, practising a method or a discipline to achieve such a unification, and so on - all this is useless and wasteful effort which actually prevents any fundamental transformation of the centre, the self, the ego. "I think I understand what you are conveying," said the artist. "We are playing around with the idea of change, but never changing. Change requires drastic, unified action." Yes; and unified or integrated action cannot take place as long as there's a conflict between opposing parts of the mind. "I see that, I really do!" exclaimed the man from the office. "No amount of idealism, of logical reasoning, no convictions or conclusions, can bring about the change we are talking about. But then what will?" Are you not, by that very question, preventing yourself from discovering the action of change? We are so eager for results that we do not pause between what we have just discovered to be true or false, and the uncovering of another fact. We hasten forward without fully understanding what we have already found. We have seen that reasoning and logical conclusions will not bring about this change, this fundamental transformation of the centre. But before we ask ourselves what factor will bring it about, we must be fully aware of the tricks that the mind uses to convince itself that change is gradual and must be effected through the pursuit of ideals, and so on. Having seen the truth or the falseness of that whole process, we can proceed to ask ourselves what is the factor necessary for this radical change. Now, what is it that makes you move, act? "Any strong feeling. Intense anger makes me act; I may afterwards regret it, but the feeling explodes into action." That is, your whole being is in it; you forget or disregard danger, you are lost to your own safety, security. The very feeling is action; there is no gap between the feeling and the act. The gap is created by the so-called reasoning process, a weighing of the pros and the cons according to one's convictions, prejudices, fears, and so on. Action is then political, it is stripped of spontaneity, of all humanity. The men who are seeking power, whether for themselves, their group or their country, act in this manner, and such action only breeds further misery and confusion. "Actually," went on the man from the office, "even a strong feeling for fundamental change is soon erased by self-protective reasoning, by thinking what would happen if such a change took place in one, and so on." The feeling is then hedged about by ideas, by words, is it not? There is a contradictory reaction, born of the desire not to be disturbed. If that is the case, then continue in your old way; don't deceive yourself by following the ideal, by saying that you are trying to change, and all the rest of it. Be simple with the fact that you don't want to change. The realization of this truth is in itself sufficient. "But I do want to change." Then change; but don't talk unfeelingly about the necessity of changing. It has no meaning. "At my age," said the old man, "I have nothing to lose in the outward sense; but to give up the old ideas and conclusions is quite another matter. I now see at least one thing: that there can be no fundamental change without an awakening of the feeling for it. Reasoning is necessary, but it's not the instrument of action. To know is not necessarily to act." But the action of feeling is also the action of knowing, the two are not separate; they are separate only when reason, knowledge, conclusion or belief induces action. "I am beginning to see this very clearly, and my knowledge of the Scriptures, as a basis for action, is already losing its grip on my mind." Action based on authority is no action at all; it is mere imitation, repetition. "And most of us are caught in that process. But one can break away from it. I have understood a great deal this evening." "So have I," said the artist. "To me, this discussion has been highly stimulating, and I don't think the stimulation will admit of any reaction. I have seen something very clearly, and I am going to pursue it, not knowing where it will lead." "My life has been respectable," said the merchant, "and respectability is not conducive to change, especially of the fundamental kind we have been talking about. I have cultivated very earnestly the idealistic desire to change, and to lead a more genuinely religious life; but I now see that meditation upon life and the ways of change is far more essential." "May I add yet another word?" asked the old man. "Meditation is not upon life; it is itself the way of life." COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES III CHAPTER 32 'KILLING' THE SUN WOULDN'T be up for two or three hours. There was not a cloud in the sky, and the stars were shouting with joy. The heavens were enclosed by the dark outline of the encircling hills, and the night was completely still; not a dog was barking, and the villagers were not yet up. Even the deep-throated owl was silent. The window let into the room the immensity of the night, and there was that strange feeling of being totally alone - an awakened aloneness. The little stream was flowing under the stone bridge, but you had to listen for it; its gentle murmur was all but inaudible in that vast silence, which was so intense, so penetrating, that your whole being was held in it. It was not the opposite of noise; noise could be in it, but was not of it. It was still quite dark when we set out in the car, but the morning star was over the eastern hills. The trees and bushes were intensely green in the bright glare of the headlights as the car made its way in and out among the hills. The road was empty, but you couldn't go too fast because of the many curves. There was now the beginning of a glow in the east; and although we were chatting in the car, the awakening of meditation was going on. The mind was completely motionless; it wasn't asleep, it wasn't tired but utterly still. As the sky became brighter and brighter, the mind went further and further, deeper and deeper. Though it was aware of the huge ball of golden light, and of the talk that was going on, it was alone, moving without any resistance, without any directive; it was alone, like a light in darkness. It did not know it was alone - only the word knows. It was a movement that had no end and no direction. It was happening without a cause, and it would go on without time. The headlights had been switched off, and in that early morning light the rich, green country was enchanting. There was heavy dew, and wherever the sun's rays touched the earth, countless jewels were sparkling with every colour of the rainbow. At that hour the bare granite rocks seemed soft and yielding - an illusion which the rising sun would soon take away. The road wound on between luscious rice fields and huge ponds, full to the brim with dancing waters, which would keep the country nourished till the next rainy season. But the rains weren't over yet; and how green and alive everything was! The cattle were fat, and the faces of the people on the road shone with the cool freshness of the morning. There were now many monkeys along the road. They were not the kind with long legs and long bodies that swing with ease and grace from branch to branch, or step lightly and haughtily in the fields, watching with grave faces as you go by. These were small monkeys, with long tails and dirty green-brown fur, full of play and mischief. One of them nearly got caught under the front wheel, but it was saved by its own quickness, and by the alertness of the driver. Now it was broad daylight, and the villagers were on the move in greater numbers. The car had to go to the side of the road to pass the slow-moving bullock carts, of which there always seemed to be so many; and the lorries would never give way to let you go by until you had blown your horn for a minute or two. Famous temples towered over the trees, and the car sped past the birthplace of a saintly teacher. A small group had come, one woman and several men, but only three or four took part in the discussion. They were all earnest people, and you could see that they were good friends, though they had differences of thought. The first man who spoke had a welltrimmed beard, an aquiline nose and a high forehead; his dark eyes were sharp and very serious. The second one was painfully thin; he was bald and clear-skinned, and he couldn't keep his hands off his face. The third was plump, cheerful and easy of manner; he would look at you as though taking stock, and being dissatisfied, would look again to see if his count had been right. He had shapely hands, with long fingers. Though he would laugh easily, there was about him a depth of seriousness. The fourth had a pleasant smile, and his eyes were those of a man who had read a great deal. Though he took very little part in the conversation, he was by no means asleep. All the men were probably in their forties, but the woman appeared to be much younger; she never spoke, though she was attentive to what was going on. "We have been talking things over amongst ourselves for several months, and we want to discuss with you a problem that has been bothering us," said the first speaker. "You see some of us are meat-eaters, and others are not. personally, I have never eaten meat in my life; it's repulsive to me in any form, and I can't bear the idea of killing an animal to fill my stomach. Although we have not been able to agree as to what is the right thing to do in this matter, we have all remained good friends, and shall continue as such, I hope." "I occasionally eat meat," said the second one. "I prefer not to, but when you travel it's often difficult to maintain a balanced diet without meat, and it's much simpler to eat it. I don't like to kill animals, I am sensitive about that kind of thing, but to eat meat now and then is all right. Many strait-laced cranks on the subject of vegetarianism are more sinful than people who kill to eat." "My son shot a pigeon the other day, and we had it for dinner," said the third speaker. "The boy was quite excited to have brought it down with his new shotgun. You ought to have seen the look in his eyes! He was both appalled and pleased; feeling guilty, he had at the same time the air of a conqueror. I told him not to feel guilty. Killing is cruel, but it is part of life, and it is not too serious as long as it is practised in moderation and kept under proper control. Eating meat is not the dreadful crime that our friend here makes it out to be. I am not too much for bloody sports, but killing to eat is not a sin against God. Why make so much fuss about it?" "As you can see, sir," went on the first speaker, "I haven't been able to convince them that killing animals for food is barbarous; and besides, eating meat is an unhealthy thing, as anyone knows who has taken the trouble to make an impartial investigation of the facts. With me, not eating meat is a matter of principle; in my family we have been non-meat-eaters for generations. It seems to me that man must eliminate from his nature this cruelty of killing animals for food if he is to become really civilized." "That's what he's everlastingly telling us," interrupted the second one. "He wants to `civilize' us meat-eaters, yet other forms of cruelty do not seem to cause him any concern. He is a lawyer, and he does not mind the cruelty involved in the practice of his profession. However, in spite of our disagreement on this point, we are still friends. We have discussed the whole issue dozens of times, and as we never seem to get any further, we all agreed that we should come and talk it over with you." "There are bigger and wider issues than killing some wretched animal for food," put in the fourth one. "It's all a matter of how you look at life." What's the problem, sirs? "To eat meat, or not to eat it," replied the non-meat-eater. Is that the main issue, or is it part of a larger issue? "To me, a man's willingness or unwillingness to kill animals for the satisfaction of his appetite indicates his attitude towards the larger issues of life." If we can see that to concentrate exclusively on any part does not bring about the comprehension of the whole, then perhaps we shall not get confused over the parts. Unless we are able to perceive the whole, the part assumes greater importance than it has. There's a bigger issue involved in all this isn't there? The problem is that of killing, and not merely killing animals for food. A man is not virtuous because he doesn't eat meat, nor is he any less virtuous because he does. The god of a petty mind is also petty; his pettiness is measured by that of the mind which puts flowers at his feet. The larger issue includes the many and apparently separate problems that man has created within himself and outside of himself. Killing is really a very great and complex problem. Shall we consider it, sirs? "I think we should," replied the fourth one. "I am keenly interested in this problem, and to approach it along a wide front appeals to me." There are many forms of killing, are there not? There is killing by a word or a gesture, killing in fear or in anger, killing for a country or an ideology, killing for a set of economic dogmas or religious beliefs. "How does one kill by a word or a gesture?" asked the third speaker. Don't you know? With a word or a gesture you may kill a man's reputation; through gossip, defamation, contempt, you may wipe him out. And does not comparison kill? Don't you kill a boy by comparing him with another who is cleverer or more skilful? A man who kills out of hate or anger is regarded as a criminal and put to death. Yet the man who deliberately bombs thousands of people off the face of the earth in the name of his country is honoured, decorated; he is looked upon as a hero. Killing is spreading over the earth. For the safety or expansion of one nation, another is destroyed. Animals are killed for food, for profit, or for so-called sport; they are vivisected for the `well-being' of man. The soldier exists to kill. Extraordinary progress is being made in the technology of murdering vast numbers of people in a few seconds and at great distances. Many scientists are wholly occupied with it, and priests bless the bomber and the warship. Also, we kill a cabbage or a carrot in order to eat; we destroy a pest. Where are we to draw the line beyond which we will not kill? "It's up to each individual," replied the second one. Is it as simple as that? If you refuse to go to war, you are either shot or sent to prison, or perhaps to a psychiatric ward. If you refuse to take part in the nationalistic game of hate, you are despised, and you may lose your job; pressure is brought to bear in various ways to force you to conform. In the paying of taxes, even in the buying of a postage stamp, you are supporting war, the killing of everchanging enemies. "Then what is one to do?" asked the non-meat-eater. "I am well aware that I have legally killed, in the law courts, many times; but I am a strict vegetarian, and I never kill any living creature with my own hands." "Not even a poisonous insect?" asked the second one. "Not if I can help it." "Someone else does it for you." "Sir," went on the vegetarian lawyer, "are you suggesting that we should not pay taxes or write letters?" Again, in being concerned first with the details of action, in speculating about whether we should do this or that, we get lost in the particular without comprehending the totality of the problem. The problem needs to be considered as a whole, does it not? "I quite see that there must be a comprehensive view of the problem, but the details are important too. We can't neglect our immediate activity, can we?" What do you mean by "a comprehensive view of the problem"? Is it a matter of mere intellectual agreement, verbal assent, or do you actually comprehend the total problem of killing? "To be quite honest, sir, until now I haven't paid much attention to the wider implications of the problem. I have been concerned with one particular aspect of it." Which is like not throwing the window wide open and looking at the sky, the trees, the people, the whole movement of life, but peering instead through a narrow crack in the casement. And the mind is like that: a small, unimportant part of it is very active, while the rest is dormant. This petty activity of the mind creates its own petty problems of good and bad, its political and moral values, and so on. If we could really see the absurdity of this process, we would naturally, without any compulsion, explore the wider fields of the mind. So the issue we are discussing is not merely the killing or the non- killing of animals, but the cruelty and hate that are ever increasing in the world and in each one of us. That is our real problem, isn't it? "Yes," replied the fourth one emphatically. "Brutality is spreading in the world like a plague; a whole nation is destroyed by its bigger and more powerful neighbour. Cruelty, hate, is the issue, not whether or not one happens to like the taste of meat." The cruelty, the anger, the hate that exists in ourselves is expressed in so many ways: in the exploitation of the weak by the powerful and the cunning; in the cruelty of forcing a whole people, under pain of being liquidated, to accept a certain ideological pattern of life; in the building up of nationalism and sovereign governments through intensive propaganda; in the cultivation of organized dogmas and beliefs, which are called religion, but which actually separate man from man. The ways of cruelty are many and subtle. "Even if we spent the rest of our lives looking, we couldn't uncover all the subtle ways in which cruelty expresses itself, could we?" inquired the third one. "Then how are we to proceed?" "It seems to me," said the first speaker, "that we are missing the central issue. Each one of us is protecting himself; we are defending our self-interests, our economic or intellectual assets, or perhaps a tradition which affords us some profit, not necessarily monetary. This self-interest in everything we touch, from politics to God, is the root of the matter." Again, if one may ask, is that a mere verbal assertion, a logical conclusion which can be torn to shreds or cunningly defended? Or does it reflect the perception of an actual fact that has significance in our daily life of thought and action? "You are trying to bring us to distinguish between the word and the actual fact," said the third speaker, "and I am beginning to see how important it is that we should make this distinction. Otherwise we shall be lost in words, without any action - as in fact we are." To act there must be feeling. A feeling for the whole issue makes for total action. "When one feels deeply about anything," said the fourth man, "one acts, and such action is not impulsive or so-called intuitive; neither is it a premeditated, calculated act. It is born out of the depth of one's being. If that act causes mischief, pain, one cheerfully pays for it; but such an act is rarely mischievous. The question is, how is one to sustain this deep feeling?" "Before we go any further," put in the third man earnestly, "let's be clear about what you are explaining, sir. One is aware of the fact that to have complete action, there must be deep feeling, in which there is a full psychological comprehension of the problem; otherwise there are merely bits of action, which never stick together. That much is clear. Then, as we were saying, the word is not the feeling; the word may evoke the feeling, but this verbal evocation does not sustain the feeling. Now, can one not enter the world of feeling directly, without the description of it, without the symbol or the word? Isn't that the next question?" Yes, sir. We are distracted by words, by symbols; we rarely feel except through the stimulation of the term, the description. The word `God' is not God, but that word leads us to react according to our conditioning. We can find out the truth or the falseness of God only when the word `God' no longer creates in us certain habitual physiological or psychological responses. As we were saying earlier, a total feeling makes for total action - or rather, a total feeling is total action. A sensation passes away, leaving you where you were before. But this total feeling we are talking about is not a sensation, it does not depend on stimulation; it sustains itself, no artifice is needed. "But how is this total feeling to be aroused?" insisted the first speaker. If one may say so, you are not seeing the point. Feeling that can be aroused is a matter of stimulation; it's a sensation to be nourished through various means, by this or that method. Then the means or the method becomes all-important, not the feeling. The symbol as a means to the feeling is enshrined in a temple, in a church, and then the feeling exists only through the symbol or the word. But is total feeling to be `aroused'? Consider, sir, don't answer. "I see what you mean," said the third one. "Total feeling is not to be aroused at all; it's there, or it's not. This leaves us in a rather hopeless state, doesn't it?" Does it? There's a sense of hopelessness because you want to arrive somewhere, you want to get that total feeling; and since you can't, you feel rather lost. It is this desire to arrive, to achieve, to become, that creates the method, the symbol, the stimulant, through which the mind comforts and distracts itself. So let us again consider the problem of killing, cruelty, hate. To be concerned with `humanitarian' killing is quite absurd; to abstain from eating meat while destroying your son by comparing him with another is to be cruel; to take part in the respectable killing for your country or for an ideology is to cultivate hate; to be kind to animals and cruel to your fellow man by act, word, or gesture, is to breed enmity and brutality. "Sir, I think I understand what you have just said; but how is total feeling to come about? I ask this only as a query in the movement of search. I am not asking for a method: I see the absurdity of that. I see, too, that the desire to achieve builds its own hindrances, and that to feel hopeless, or helpless, is silly. All this is now clear." If it is clear, not just verbally or intellectually, but with the actuality of the pain that a thorn causes in your foot, then there's compassion, love. Then you have already opened the door to this total feeling of compassion. The compassionate man knows right action, Without love, you are trying to find out what is the right thing to do, and your action only leads to greater harm and misery; it is the action of politicians and reformers. Without love, you cannot comprehend cruelty; a peace of sorts may be established through the reign of terror; but war, killing, will continue at another level of our existence. "We haven't got compassion, sir, and that's the real source of our misery," said the first man feelingly. "We are hard inside, an ugly thing in ourselves, but we bury it under kindly words and superficial acts of generosity. We are cancerous at heart, in spite of our religious beliefs and social reforms. It's in one's own heart that an operation must take place, and then a new seed can be planted. That very operation is the life of the new seed. The operation has begun, and may the seed bear fruit." COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES III CHAPTER 33 'TO BE INTELLIGENT IS TO BE SIMPLE' THE SEA WAS very blue, and the setting sun was just touching the tops of the low-lying clouds. A boy of thirteen or fourteen, in a wet cloth, was standing by a car, shivering and pretending to be dumb; he was begging, and was putting on a very good act. Having got a few coins, he was off, sprinting across the sands. The waves were coming in very gently, and they didn't completely obliterate the footprints in passing over them. The crabs were racing with the waves, and dodging one's feet; they would let themselves be caught by a wave, and by the shift- ing sands, but they would come up again, ready for the next wave. Seated on a few logs tied together, a man had been right out to sea, and he was now coming in with two large fish; he was dark, burnt by many suns. Coming ashore with skill and ease, he drew his raft far up onto the dry sands, out of reach of the waves. Further along there was a grove of palm trees, bending towards the sea, and beyond them the town. A steamer on the horizon stood as if motionless, and a gentle breeze was blowing from the north. It was an hour of great beauty and stillness, in which the earth and the heavens met. You could sit on the sand and watch the waves come in and go out, endlessly, and their rhythmic movement seemed to pass over the land. Your mind was alive, but not as the restless sea; it was alive, and it reached from one horizon to the other. It had no height or depth, it was neither far nor near; there was no centre from which to measure or encircle the whole. The sea, the sky and the land were all there, but there was no observer. It was vast space and measureless light. The light of the setting sun was on the trees, it bathed the village and could be seen beyond the river; but this was a light that never set, a light that was ever shining. And strangely, there were no shadows in it; you did not cast your shadow across any part of it. You were not asleep, you had not closed your eyes, for now the stars were becoming visible; but whether you closed your eyes or kept them open, the light was always there. It was not to be caught and put in a shrine. A mother of three children, she seemed simple, quiet and unassuming, but her eyes were alive and observant; they took in many things. As she talked, her rather nervous shyness disappeared, but she remained quietly watchful. Her eldest son had been educated abroad and was now working as an electronic engineer; the second one had a good job in a textile factory, and the youngest was just finishing college. They were all good boys, she said, and you could see she was proud of them. They had lost their father some years ago, but he had seen to it that they would have a good education and be self-supporting. What little else he had, he had left to her, and she was not in need of anything, for her wants were few. At this point she stopped talking, and was evidently finding it difficult to come out with something that was on her mind. Sensing what she wanted to talk about, I hesitantly questioned her. Do you love your children? "Of course I do," she answered quickly, glad of the opening. "Who doesn't love their children? I have brought them up with loving care, and have been occupied all these years with their comings and goings, their sorrows and joys, and with all the other things that a mother cares about. They have been very good children, and have been very good to me. They all did well in their studies, and they will make their way in life; they may not leave their mark upon the world, but after all, so few do. We are all now living together, and when they get married I shall stay, if I am wanted, with one or other of them. Of course, I have my own house too, and I am not economically dependent on them. But it is strange that you should ask me that question." Is it? "Well, I have never before talked about myself to anyone, not even to my sister, or to my late husband, and suddenly to be asked that question seemed rather strange - though I do want to talk it over with you. It took a lot of courage to come to see you, but now I am glad I came, and that you have made it so easy for me to talk. I have always been a listener, but not in your sense of the word. I used to listen to my husband, and to his business associates whenever they dropped in. I have listened to my children and to my friends. But no one ever seemed to care to listen to me, and for the most part I was silent. In listening to others, one learns, but most of what one hears is nothing that one doesn't already know. The men gossiped as much as the women, besides complaining about their jobs and their bad pay; some talked about their hoped-for promotion, others about social reform, village work or what the guru had said. I listened to them all, and never opened my heart to anybody. Some were more clever, and others more stupid than I, but in most things they were not very different from me. I enjoy music, but I listen to it with a different ear. I seem to be listening to somebody or other most of the time; but there is also something else to which I listen, something which always eludes me. May I talk about it?" Isn't that why you are here? "Yes, I suppose it is. You see, I am approaching forty-five, and most of those years I have been occupied with others; I have been busy with a thousand and one things, all day and every day. My husband died five years ago, and since then I have been more than occupied with the children; and now, in a strange way, I am coming upon myself all the time. With my sister-in-law I attended your talk the other day, and something stirred in my heart, something which I always knew was there. I can't express it very well, and I hope you will understand what it is I want to say." May I help you? "I wish you would." It is difficult to be simple right to the end of anything, isn't it? We experience something that is simple in itself, but it soon becomes complicated; it is hard to keep it within the bounds of its original simplicity. Don't you feel this is so? "In a way, yes. There is a simple thing in my heart, but I don't know what it all means." You said that you loved your children. What is the meaning of that word `love'? "I told you what it means. To love one's children is to look after them, to see that they don't get hurt, that they don't make too many mistakes; it is to help them prepare for a good job, to see them happily married, and so on." Is that all? "What more can a mother do?" If one may ask, does your love for your children fill your whole life, and not just a part of it? "No," she admitted. "I love them, but it has never filled my whole life. The relationship with my husband was different. He might have filled my life, but not the children; and now that they have grown to young men, they have their own lives to live. They love me, and I love them; but the relationship between a man and his wife is different, and they will find their fullness of life in marrying the right woman." Have you never wanted your children to be rightly educated, so that they would help to prevent wars, and not be killed for some idea or to satisfy some politician's craving for power? Doesn't your love make you want to help them to bring about a different kind of society, a society in which hatred, antagonism, envy, will have ceased to exist? "But what can I do about it? I myself haven't been properly educated, so how can I possibly help to create a new social order?" Don't you feel strongly about it? "I'm afraid not. Do we feel strongly about anything?" Then is love not something strong, vital, urgent? "It should be, but with most of us it is not. I love my sons, and pray that nothing bad will happen to them. If it does, what can I do but shed bitter tears over it? "If you have love, isn't it strong enough to make you act? Jealousy, like hate, is strong and it does bring about forceful, vigorous action; but jealousy is not love. Then do we really know what love is? "I have always thought that I loved my children, even though it hasn't been the greatest thing in my life." Is there then a greater love in your life than your love for your children? It had not been easy to come to this point, and she felt awkward and embarrassed as we came to it. For some time she wouldn't talk, and we sat there without saying a word. "I have never really loved," she began gently. "I have never felt very deeply about anything. I used to be very jealous, and it was a very strong feeling. It bit into my heart and made me violent; I cried, made scenes, and once, God forgive me, I struck. But that's all over and gone. Sexual desire was also very strong, but with each baby it diminished, and now it has completely disappeared. My feeling for my children isn't what it should be. I have never felt anything very strongly except jealousy and sex; and that doesn't go very far, does it?" Not very far. "Then what is love? Attachment, jealousy, even hate, is what I used to consider to be love; and of course sexual relationship. But I see now that sexual relationship is only a very small part of a much greater thing. The greater thing I have never known, and that is why sex became so consumingly important, at least for a time. When that faded away, I thought I loved my sons; but the fact is that I have loved them, if I may use that word at all, only in a very small way; and although they are good boys, they are just like thousands of others. I suppose we are all mediocre, satisfied with petty things: with ambition, prosperity, envy. Our lives are small, whether we live in palaces or huts. This is all very clear to me now, which it has never been before; but as you must know, I am not an educated person." Education has nothing to do with it; mediocrity is not a monopoly of the uneducated, The scholar, the scientist, the very clever, may also be mediocre. Freedom from mediocrity, from pettiness, is not a matter of class or learning. "But I have not thought much, I have not felt much; my life has been a sorry thing." Even when we do feel strongly, it's generally about such petty things: about personal and family security, about the flag, about some religious or political leader. Our feeling is always for or against something; it isn't like a fire that burns brightly, without smoke. "But who is to give us that fire?" To depend on another, to look to a guru, a leader, is to take away the aloneness, the purity of the fire; it makes for smoke. "Then, if we are not to ask for help, we must have the fire to begin with." Not at all. At the beginning, the fire is not there. It has to be nurtured; there must be care, a wise putting away, with understanding, of those things that dampen the fire, that destroy the clarity of the flame. Then only is there the fire that nothing can extinguish. "But that needs intelligence, which I haven't got." Yes you have. In seeing for yourself how little your life is, how little you love; in perceiving the nature of jealousy; in beginning to be aware of yourself in everyday relationship, there is already the movement of intelligence. Intelligence is a matter of hard work, quick perception of the subtle tricks of the mind, facing the fact, and clear thinking, without assumptions or conclusions. To kindle the fire of intelligence, and to keep it alive, demands alertness and great simplicity. "It is kind of you to say that I have intelligence; but have I?" she insisted. It's good to inquire, but not to assert that you have or have not. To inquire rightly is in itself the beginning of intelligence. You hinder intelligence in yourself by your own convictions, opinions, assertions and denials. Simplicity is the way of intelligence - not the mere show of simplicity in outward things and behaviour, but the simplicity of inward non-being. When you say "I know", you are on the path of non-intelligence; but when you say "I don't know", and really mean it, you have already started on the path of intelligence. When a man doesn't know, he looks, listens, inquires. `To know' is to accumulate, and he who accumulates will never know; he is not intelligent. "If I am on the path of intelligence because I am simple and don't know much..." To think in terms of `much' is to be unintelligent. `Much' is a comparative word, and comparison is based on accumulation. "Yes, I see that. But, as I was saying, if one is on the path of intelligence because one is simple and really doesn't know anything then intelligence would seem to be tantamount to ignorance." Ignorance is one thing, and the state of not knowing is quite another; the two are in no way connected. You may be very learned, clever, efficient, talented, and yet be ignorant. There is ignorance when there is no self-knowledge. The ignorant man is he who is unaware of himself, who does not know his own deceits, vanities, envies, and so on. Self-knowledge is freedom. You may know all about the wonders of the earth and of the heavens, and still not be free from envy, sorrow. But when you say "I don't know", you are learning. To learn is not to accumulate, either knowledge, things or relationships. To be intelligent is to be simple; but to be simple is extraordinarily arduous. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES III CHAPTER 34 'CONFUSION AND CONVICTIONS' THE TOPS OF the mountains beyond the lake were in dark, heavy clouds, but the shores of the lake were in the sun. It was early spring, and the sun wasn't warm. The trees were still bare, their branches naked against the blue sky; but they were beautiful in their nakedness. They could wait with patience and certainty, for the sun was upon them, and in a few weeks more they would be covered with tender green leaves. A little path by the lake turned off through the woods, which were mostly evergreens; they extended for miles, and if you went far enough along that path you came to an open meadow, with trees all around it. It was a beautiful spot, secluded and far away. A few cows were sometimes grazing in the meadow, but the tinkling of their bells never seemed to disturb the solitude or take away the feeling of distance, of loneliness and familiar seclusion. A thousand people might come to that enchanted place, and when they had left, with their noise and litter, it would have remained unspoiled, alone and friendly. That afternoon the sun was on the meadow, and on the tall, dark trees that stood around it, carved in green, stately, without movement. With your preoccupations and inward chatter, with your mind and eyes all over the place, restlessly wondering if the rain would catch you on your way back, you felt as though you were trespassing, not wanted there; but soon you were part of it, part of that enchanted solitude. There were no birds of any kind; the air was completely still, and the tops of the trees were motionless against the blue sky. The lush green meadow was the centre of this world, and as you sat on a rock, you were part of that centre. It wasn't imagination; imagination is silly. It wasn't that you were trying to identify yourself with what was so splendidly open and beautiful; identification is vanity. It wasn't that you were trying to forget or abnegate yourself in this unspoiled solitude of nature; all self-forgetful abnegation is arrogance. It wasn't the shock or the compulsion of so much purity; all compulsion is a denial of the true. You could do nothing to make yourself, or help yourself to be, part of that wholeness. But you were part of it, part of the green meadow, the hard rock, the blue sky and the stately trees. It was so. You might remember it, but then you would not be of it; and if you went back to it, you would never find it. Suddenly you heard the clear notes of a flute; and along the path you met the player, a mere boy. He was never going to be a professional, but there was joy in his playing. He was looking after the cows. He was too shy to talk, so he played on his flute as you went down the path together. He would have come all the way down, but it was too far, and presently he turned back; but the notes of the flute were still in the air. They were husband and wife, without children, and comparatively young. Short and well-built, they were a strong, healthy-looking couple. She looked straight at you, but he would look at you only when you weren't looking at him. They had come once or twice before, and there was a change in them. physically they were about the same, but there was something different in their look, in the way they sat, and in the set of their heads; they had the air of people who were becoming, or had already become, important. Being out of their usual element, they were feeling a little awkward, constrained, and appeared not to be quite sure why they had come, or what to say; so they began by talking about their travels, and about other matters that were not of great interest to them under the present circumstances. "Of course," said the husband at last, "we do believe in the Masters, but at the moment we are not giving emphasis to all that. people don't understand, and make the Masters into saviours, supergurus and what you say about gurus is perfectly right. To us, the Masters are our own higher selves; they exist, not just as a matter of belief, but as an everyday occurrence in our daily living. They guide our lives; they instruct and point the way." To what, sir, if one may ask? "To the evolutionary and nobler processes of life. We have pictures of the Masters, but they are merely symbols, images for the mind to dwell on, in order to bring something greater into our petty lives. Otherwise life becomes tawdry, empty and very superficial. As there are leaders in the political and economic fields, so these symbols act as guides in the realm of higher thought. They are as necessary as light in darkness. We are not intolerant of other guides, other symbols; we welcome them all, for in these troubled times, man needs all the help he can get. So we are not intolerant; but you appear to be both intolerant and rather dogmatic when you deny the Masters as guides, and reject every other form of authority. Why do you insist that man must be free from authority? How could we exist in this world if there were not some kind of law and order, which after all is based on authority? Man is sorely tried, and he needs those who can help and deeply comfort him." Which man? "Man in general. There may be exceptions, but the common man needs some kind of authority, a guide who will lead him from a sensate life to the life of the spirit. Why are you against authority?" There are many kinds of authority, are there not? There is the authority of the State for the so-called common good. There is the authority of the church, of dogma and belief, which is called religion, to save man from evil and help him to be civilized. There is the authority of society, which is the authority of tradition, of greed, envy, ambition; and the authority of personal knowledge or experience, which is the result of our conditioning, of our education. There is also the authority of the specialist, the authority of talent, and the authority of brute force, whether of a government or an individual. Why do we seek authority? "That's fairly obvious, isn't it? As I said, man needs something to guide himself by; being confused, he naturally seeks an authority to lead him out of his confusion." Sir, aren't you speaking of man as though he were a being, different from yourself? Don't you also seek authority? "Yes, I do." Why? "The physicist knows more than I about the structure of matter, and if I want to learn the facts in that field, I go to him. If I have a toothache, I go to a dentist. If I am inwardly confused, which often happens, I seek the guidance of the higher self, the Master, and so on. What's wrong with that?" It is one thing to go to the dentist, or to keep to the right or the left side of the road, or to pay taxes; but is this the same as accepting authority in order to be free from sorrow? The two are entirely different, are they not? Is psychological pain to be understood and eliminated by following the authority of another? "The psychologist or the analyst can frequently help the disordered mind to resolve its problem. Authority in such cases is obviously beneficial." But why do you look to the authority of what you call the higher self, or the Master? "Because I am confused." Can a confused mind ever seek out what is true? "Why not?" Do what it will, a confused mind can only find further confusion; its search for the higher self, and the response it receives, will be according to its confused state. When there's clarity, there's an end to authority. "There are moments when my mind is clear." You are saying, in effect, that you are not totally confused, that there is a part of you which is clear; and this supposedly clear part is what you call the higher self, the Master, and so on. I am not saying this in any derogatory manner. But can there be one part of the mind which is confused and another part which is not? Or is this just wishful thinking? "I only know there are moments when I am not confused." Can clarity know itself as being non-confused? Can confusion recognize clarity? If confusion recognizes clarity, then what is recognized is still part of confusion. If clarity knows itself as a state of non-confusion, then it is the result of comparison; it is comparing itself with confusion, and so it's part of confusion. "You are telling me that I am totally confused, aren't you, sir? But that just isn't so," he insisted. Are you aware first of confusion or of clarity? "Isn't that like asking which came first, the chicken or the egg?" Not quite. When you are happy, you are not aware of it; it is only when happiness is not there that you search for it. When you are aware that you are happy, at that very moment happiness ceases. In looking to the Atman - the supra-mind, the Master, or whatever else you may name it - to clear up your confusion, you are acting from confusion; your action is the outcome of a conditioned mind, isn't it. "Perhaps." Being confused, you are seeking or establishing an authority so as to clear up that confusion, which only makes matters worse. "Yes," he agreed reluctantly. If you see the truth of this, then your only concern is with the clearing up of your confusion, and not with the establishing of authority, which has no meaning. "But how am I to clear up my confusion?" By really being honest in your confusion. To admit to oneself that one is totally confused is the beginning of understanding. "But I have a position to maintain," he said impulsively. That's just it. You have a position of leadership - and the leader is as confused as those that are led. It is the same all over the world. Out of his confusion, the follower or the disciple chooses the leader, the teacher, the guru; so confusion prevails. If you really wish to be free of confusion, then that is your primary concern, and maintaining a position has no longer any importance. But you have been playing this game of hide-and-seek with yourself for some time, haven't you, sir? "I suppose I have." Everyone wants to be somebody, and so we bring more confusion and sorrow upon ourselves and upon others; and yet we talk about saving the world! One must first clarify one's own mind, and not be concerned with the confusion of others. There was a long pause. Then the wife, who had been silently listening, spoke in a rather hurt voice. "But we want to help others, and we have given our lives to it. You can't take away from us this desire, after all the good work we have done. You are too destructive, too negative. You take away, but what do you give? You may have found the truth, but we haven't; we are seekers, and we have a right to our convictions." Her husband was looking at her rather anxiously, wondering what was going to come out, but she went right on. "After working all these years, we have built up for ourselves a position in our organization; for the first time we have an opportunity to be leaders, and it is our duty to take it." Do you think so? "I most certainly do." Then there is no problem. I am not trying to convince you of anything, or to convert you to a particular point of view. To think from a conclusion or a conviction is not to think at all; and living is then a form of death is it not? "Without our convictions, life for us would be empty. Our convictions have made us what we are; we believe in certain things, and they have become part of our very make-up." Whether they have validity or not? Has a belief any validity. "We have given a great deal of consideration to our beliefs, and have found that they have truth behind them." How do you find out the truth of a belief? "We know whether there's an underlying truth in a belief or not," she replied vehemently. But how do you know? "Through our intelligence, our experience, and the test of our daily living, of course." Your beliefs are based on your education, on your culture; they are the outcome of your background, of social, parental, religious or traditional influence, are they not? "What's wrong with that?" When the mind is already conditioned by a set of beliefs, how can it ever find out the truth about them? Surely, the mind must first free itself from its beliefs, and only then can the truth concerning them be perceived. It is as absurd for a Christian to scoff at the beliefs and dogmas of Hinduism, as it is for a Hindu to deride the Christian dogma which asserts that only through a certain belief can you be saved, for they are both in the same boat. To understand the truth with regard to belief, conviction, dogma, there must first be freedom from all conditioning as a Christian, a Communist, a Hindu, a Moslem, or what you will. Otherwise you are merely repeating what you have been told. "But belief based on experience is a different matter," she asserted. Is it? Belief projects experience, and such experience then strengthens the belief. Our visions are the outcome of our conditioning, the religious as well as the non-religious. This is so, isn't it? "Sir, what you say is too devastating," she remonstrated. "We are weak, we cannot stand on our own feet, and we need the support of our beliefs." By insisting that you cannot stand on your own feet, you are obviously making yourself weak; and then you allow yourself to be exploited by the exploiter whom you have created. "But we need help." When you do not seek it, help comes. It may come from a leaf, from a smile, from the gesture of a child, or from any book. But if you make the book, the leaf, the image, all-important, then you are lost, for you are caught in the prison of your own making. She had become quieter now, but was still worried about something. The husband too was on the point of speaking, but restrained himself. We all waited in silence, and presently she spoke. "From everything you have said, it seems that you regard power as evil. Why? What's wrong with exercising power?" What do you mean by power? The dominance of a State, of a group, of a guru, of a leader, of an ideology; the pressure of propaganda, through which the clever and the cunning exert their influence over the so-called mass - is this what you mean by power? "Somewhat, yes. But there's the power to do good as well as the power to do evil." Power in the sense of ascendancy, dominance, forceful influence over another, is evil at all times; there is no `good' power. "But there are people who seek power for the good of their country, or in the name of God, peace or brotherhood, aren't there?" There are, unfortunately. If one may ask, are you seeking power? "We are," she replied defiantly. "But only in order to do good to others." That's what they all say, from the most cruel tyrant to the so-called democratic politician, from the guru to the irritated parent. "But we are different. Having suffered so much ourselves, we want to help others to avoid the pitfalls that we have been through. people are children, and they must be helped for their own wellbeing. We really mean to do good." Do you know what is the good? "I think most of us know what is the good: not to do harm, to be kind, to be generous, to abstain from killing, and not to be concerned about oneself." In other words, you want to tell people to be generous of heart and hand; but does this require a vast, landed organization, with the possibility that one of you may become the head of it? "Our becoming the head of it is only to keep the organization moving along the right lines, and not for the sake of personal power." Is having power in an organization so very different from personal power? You both want to enjoy the prestige of it, the opportunities for travel which it affords, the feeling of being important, and so on. Why not be simple about it? Why clothe all this with respectability? Why use a lot of noble words to cover up your desire for success and the recognition of it, which is what most human beings want? "We only want to help people," she insisted. Is it not strange that one refuses to see things as they are? "Sir," chimed in the husband, "I don't think you understand our situation. We are ordinary people, and we don't pretend to be anything else; we have our faults, and we honestly admit our ambition. But those whom we respect, and who have been wise in many ways, have asked us to take this position, and if we didn't take it, it would fall into far worse hands - into the hands of people who are wholly concerned with themselves. So we feel that we must accept our responsibility, though we are not really worthy of it. I sincerely hope you understand." Is it not rather for you to understand what you are doing? You are concerned with reform, are you not? "Who isn't? The great leaders and teachers, past and present, have always been concerned with reform. Isolated hermits, sannyasi, are of little use to society." Reform, though necessary, is not of much significance unless the whole of man is considered. Cutting down a few dead branches does not make the tree healthy if the roots are unsound. Mere reforms always need further reform. What is necessary is a total revolution in our thinking. "But most of us are not capable of such a revolution, and fundamental change must be brought about gradually, through the evolutionary processes. It is our aspiration to aid in this gradual change, and we have dedicated our lives to the service of man. Shouldn't you be more tolerant of human weakness?" Tolerance is not compassion, it's a thing put together by the cunning mind. Tolerance is the reaction from intolerance; but neither the tolerant nor the intolerant will ever be compassionate. Without love, all so-called good action can only lead to further mischief and misery. A mind that's ambitious, seeking power, does not know love, and it will never be compassionate. Love is not reform, but total action. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES III CHAPTER 35 'ATTENTION WITHOUT MOTIVE' IN THE NARROW, shady lane between two gardens, a young boy was playing a flute; it was a cheap wooden thing and he was playing a popular cinema tune, but the purity of the notes filled the space in that lane. The white walls of the houses had been washed by the recent rains, and on those walls the shadows were dancing to the music of the flute. It was a sunny morning, there were scattered white clouds in the blue sky, and a pleasant breeze was blowing from the north. Beyond the houses and the gardens was the village, with huge trees towering over the thatched huts. Under those trees, women were selling fish, a few vegetables and some fried things. Little children were playing in the narrow road, and still smaller children were using the ditch as their toilet, unmindful of the grown-ups and the passing cars. There were many goats, and their small black and white kids were cleaner and even more spirited than the children. They were so soft to the touch, and they loved being petted. passing under the barbed wire of their enclosure, they would run across the road into a small open space, nibble the grass, romp about, butt each other, jump up in the air with abandon, and then race back to their mothers. Cars slowed down to avoid them, and not one was run over. They seemed to have divine protection - only to be killed and eaten. But the flute player was there among the green foliage, and the clear notes called one out of doors. The boy was dirty, his clothes torn and unwashed, his face aggressively sharp and complaining. No one had taught him to play the flute, and no one ever would; he had picked it up by himself, and as the cinema tune rolled out, the purity of the notes was extraordinary. It was strange for the mind to float on that purity. Moving a few paces away, it continued through the trees, over the houses and towards the sea. It movement was not in time and space, but in purity. The word `purity' is not purity; the word is tied to memory, and to the association of many things. This purity was not an invention of the mind; it was not a thing put together, only to be undone, through remembrance and comparison. The flute player was there, but the mind was infinitely far away - not in distance, nor in terms of memory. It was far away within itself, clear, untouched, alone, beyond the measure of time and recognition. The small room overlooked a tiny garden full of flowers, with a spot of lawn. There was just enough room for the five of us, and for the small boy whom one had brought along. The boy would sit quietly for a while, and then get up and walk out of the door. He wanted to play, and the grown-up conversation was beyond him; but he had a serious air. Each time he came in, he would sit next to one of the men, who turned out to be his father, and their hands would touch; and presently he fell asleep, holding on to a finger. They were all active men, obviously capable and energetic. Their respective professions as a lawyer, a government official, an engineer and a social worker were, except for that of the last, only a means of livelihood. Their real interest lay elsewhere, and they all seemed to reflect the culture of many generations. "I am only concerned with myself," said the lawyer, "but not in the narrow, personal sense of self-improvement. The point is, I alone can break through the barrier of centuries and set my mind free. I am willing to listen, reason, discuss, but I abominate all influence. Influence, after all, is propaganda, and propaganda is the most stupid form of compulsion. I read a great deal, but I am constantly watching myself to see that I don't fall under the influence of the author's thought. I have attended many of your talks and discussions, sir, and I agree with you that any form of compulsion prevents understanding. Anyone who is persuaded, consciously or unconsciously, to think along a particular line, however apparently beneficial, is bound to end up in some form of frustration, because his fulfilment is according to the way of another, and so he can never really fulfil himself at all." Are we not being influenced by something or other, most of the time? One may be unconscious of influence, but isn't it always present in many subtle forms? Is not thought itself the product of influence? "The four of us have often talked this matter over," responded the official, "and we are still not very clear about it, otherwise we wouldn't be here, Personally, I have visited many teachers at their ashramas all over the country; but before meeting the master, I first try to meet the disciples to see how far they have merely been influenced to a better life. Some of the disciples are scandalized by this approach, and they can't understand why I don't want to see the guru first. They are almost entirely under the heel of authority; and the ashramas, particularly the larger ones, are sometimes very efficiently run, like any office or factory. People turn over all their property and possessions to the central authority, and then remain in the ashrama, under guidance, for the rest of their lives. You would be surprised at the kind of people one finds there, a whole cross-section of society: retired government administrators, business men who have made their pile, a professor or two, and so on. And they are all dominated by the so-called spiritual influence of the guru. It's pathetic, but there it is!" Is influence or compulsion restricted to the ashrama? The hero, the ideal, the political Utopia, the future as a symbol of achieving or becoming something - do not these things exert their subtle influence on each one of us? And must not the mind also be free of this kind of compulsion? "We don't go that far," said the social worker. "We stay wisely within certain limits, otherwise there might be utter chaos." To discard compulsion in one form, only to accept it in a more subtle form, seems a futile endeavour, does it not? "We want to go step by step, systematically and thoroughly understanding one form of compulsion after another," said the engineer. Is such a thing ever possible? Mustn't compulsion or influence be tackled as a whole, not bit by bit? In trying to discard one pressure after another, is there not in this very process the maintenance of that which you are trying to discard, perhaps at a different level? Can envy be got rid of little by little? Does not the very effort sustain envy? "To build anything takes time. One can't put up a bridge all at once. Time is needed for everything - for the seed to bear fruit, and for man to mature." In certain things, time is obviously necessary. To perform a series of actions, or to move in space from here to there, takes time. But apart from chronology, time is a plaything of the mind, is it not? Time is used as a means to achieve, to become something, positively or negatively; time exists in comparison. The thought "I am this, and I shall become that" is the way of time. The future is the modified past, and the present becomes merely a movement or passage from the past to the future, and so is of little importance. Time as a means of achievement has tremendous influence, it exerts the pressure of centuries of tradition. Is this process of attraction and compulsion, which is both negative and positive, to be understood bit by bit, or must it be seen as a whole? "If I may interrupt, I would like to go on with what I was saying at the beginning," protested the lawyer. "To be influenced is not to think at all, and that's why I am only concerned with myself - but not in a self-centred way. If I may be personal, I have read some of the things you have said about authority, and I am working on the same lines. It is for this reason that I no longer go anywhere near the various teachers. Authority - not in the civil or legal sense - is to be avoided by an intelligent man." Are you merely concerned with freedom from outward authority, from the influence of newspapers, books, teachers, and so on? Must you not also be free from every form of inward compulsion, from the pressures of the mind itself, not merely the surface mind, but the deep unconscious? And is this possible? "That's one of the things I have been wanting to talk over with you. If one is somewhat aware, it's comparatively easy to observe and be free of the imprint made on the conscious mind by passing influences and pressures from without; but the conditioning and influence of the unconscious is a problem quite difficult to understand." The unconscious is a result - is it not? - of innumerable influences and compulsions, both self-imposed and imposed by society. "It is most definitely influenced by the culture or society in which one has been brought up; but whether this conditioning is total, or only segmentary, I am not at all sure." Do you want to find out? "Of course I do, that's why I am here." How is one to find out? The `how' is the process of inquiry, it is not the search for a method. If one is seeking a method, then inquiry has stopped. It's fairly obvious that the mind is influenced, educated, shaped, not only by the present culture, but by centuries of culture What we are attempting to find out is whether only part of the mind, or the whole of consciousness, is thus influenced, conditioned. "Yes, that is the question." What do we mean by consciousness? Motive and action; desire, fulfilment and frustration; fear and envy; tradition, racial inheritance and the experiences of the individual based upon the collective past; time as past and future - all this is the essence of consciousness the very centre of it, is it not? "Yes; and I quite perceive the vast complexity of it." Does one feel the nature of consciousness for oneself, or is one influenced by another's description of it? "To be quite honest, both; I feel the nature of my own consciousness, but it helps to have a description of it." How arduous it is to be free of influence! putting aside the description, can one feel out the nature of consciousness and not merely theorize about it, or indulge in explanations? It is important to do this, isn't it? "I suppose it is," put in the official hesitantly. The lawyer was absorbed in his own thoughts. To feel out for oneself the nature of consciousness is an entirely different experience from recognizing its nature through a description. "Of course it is," replied the lawyer, back on the scene again. "One is the influence of words, and the other is the direct experiencing of what's taking place." The state of direct experiencing is attention without motive. When there is the desire to achieve a result, there is experiencing with a motive, which only leads to the further conditioning of the mind. To learn, and to learn with a motive, are contradictory processes, are they not? Is one learning when there's a motive to learn? The accumulation of knowledge, or the acquisition of technique, is not the movement of learning. Learning is a movement which is not away from or towards something; it ceases when there is the accumulation of knowledge in order to gain, to achieve, to arrive. Feeling out the nature of consciousness, learning about it, is without motive; there is no experiencing, or being taught, in order to be or not to be something. To have a motive, a cause, ever brings about pressure, compulsion. "Are you implying, sir, that true freedom is without a cause?" Of course. Freedom is not a reaction to bondage; when it is, then that freedom becomes another bondage. That's why it's very important to find out if one has a motive to be free. If one has, then the result is not freedom, but merely the opposite of what is. "Then to feel out the nature of consciousness, which is the direct experiencing of it without any motive, is already a freeing of the mind from influence. Is that it?" Isn't that so? Haven't you found that a motive invites influence, coercion, conformity? For the mind to be free from pressure, pleasant or unpleasant, all motive, however subtle or noble, must wither away - but not through any form of compulsion, discipline or suppression, which will only bring about another kind of bondage. "I see," went on the lawyer. "Consciousness is a whole complex of interrelated motives. To understand this complex, one must feel it out, learn about it, without any further motive; for all motives inevitably bring about some kind of influence, pressure. Where there's a motive of any kind, there's no freedom. I am beginning to understand this very clearly." "But is it possible to act without a motive?" asked the social worker. "It seems to me that motive is inseparable from action." What do you mean by action? "The village needs cleaning up, the children must be educated, the law must be enforced, reforms must be carried out, and so on. All this is action, and behind it there's definitely some kind of motive. If action with a motive is wrong, then what's right action?" The Communist thinks his is the right way of life; so does the capitalist, and the so-called religious man. Governments have five or ten-year plans, and impose certain legislation to carry them out. The social reformer conceives of a way of life, which he insists upon as being right action. Every parent, every school teacher, enforces tradition and attention. There are innumerable political and religious organizations, each with its leader, and each with power, gross or subtle, to enforce what it calls right action. "Without all this, there would be chaos, anarchy." We are not condemning or defending any way of life, any leader or teacher; we are trying to understand, through this maze, what right action is. All these individuals and organizations, with their proposals and counter-proposals, are trying to influence thought in this or that direction, and what is called right action by some, is considered by others to be wrong action. This is so, isn't it? "Yes, to a certain extent," agreed the social worker. "But though it's obviously incomplete, fragmentary, no one thinks of political action, for example, as being either right or wrong in itself; it's just a necessity. Then what is right action?" Trying to bring together all these conflicting notions does not make for right action, does it? "Of course not." Seeing the mess the world is in, the individual reacts to it in different ways; he maintains that he must understand himself first, that he must cleanse his own being, and so on; or else he becomes a reformer, a doctrinaire, a politician seeking to influence the minds of others to conform to a particular pattern. But the individual who thus reacts to the social confusion and disorder is still part of it; his action, being really a reaction, can only bring about confusion in another form. None of this is right action. Right action, surely, is total action, it is not fragmentary or contradictory; and it is total action alone that can respond adequately to all political and social demands. "What is this total action?" Haven't you to find that out for yourself? If you are told what it is, and you agree or disagree, it will only lead to another fragmentary action, won't it? Reformatory activity within society, and activity on the part of the individual as opposed to or apart from society, is incomplete action. Total action lies beyond these two, and that total action is love. COMMENTARIES ON LIVING SERIES III CHAPTER 36 'THE VOYAGE ON AN UNCHARTED SEA' THE SUN HAD just set behind the trees and the clouds, and the golden glow came through a window of the large room, which was filled with people listening to the music of an eight-stringed instrument accompanied by a small drum. Almost everyone in that audience was following the music with complete absorption, especially a girl in a bright dress, who sat like a statue, her hand keeping perfect time as it gently beat out the rhythm on her thigh. That was the only movement she made; with head erect and eyes glued on the man with the instrument, she was oblivious to everything else about her. Several others in the audience were keeping time with their hands or their heads. They were all in raptures, and the world of wars, politicians, worries, had ceased to exist. Outside the light was fading, and the flowers that shone with bright colours only a few minutes before had disappeared in the gathering darkness. The birds were quiet now, and one of those small owls was beginning to call. Someone was shouting from a house across the way; through the trees one or two stars could be seen, and a lizard on the white garden wall was just visible as it stealthily crawled towards an insect. But the music held the audience. It was pure and subtle music, with great depth of beauty and feeling. Suddenly the stringed instrument stopped, and the little drum took over; it spoke with a clarity and precision that were really quite incredible. The hands were astonishingly gentle and swift as they struck both sides of the little drum, whose sound said more than the wild chattering of men. That drum, if asked, could send out passionate messages with vigour and emphasis; but now it was speaking quietly of many things, and the mind rode upon the waves of its sound. When the mind is on the flight of discovery, imagination is a dangerous thing. Imagination has no place in understanding; it destroys understanding as surely as does speculation. Speculation and imagination are the enemies of attentions But the mind was aware of this, and so there was no flight from which it had to be recalled. The mind was perfectly still - yet how rapid it was! It had moved to the ends of the earth and was back again even before it had started on its journey. It was faster than the fastest, and yet it could be slow - so slow that no detail escaped it. The music, the audience, the lizard, were only a brief movement within it. It was perfectly still, and because it was still, it was alone. Its stillness was not the stillness of death, nor was it a thing put together by thought, coerced and brought into being by the vanity of man. It was a movement beyond the measure of man, a movement which was not of time, which had no going and coming, but which was still with the unknown depths of creation. In his late forties, and rather plump, he had been educated abroad; and quietly, in a roundabout way, he conveyed that he knew all the important people. He made his living by writing for the newspapers about serious subjects, and giving talks all over the country; and he also had some other source of income. He appeared to be well-read, and was interested in religion - as most people are, he added. "I have a guru of my own and I go to him as regularly as possible, but I am not one of those blind followers. As I travel a good bit, I have met many teachers, from the far north to the southernmost tip of the country. Some are obviously fakes, with a smattering of book knowledge cleverly disguised as their own experience. There are others who have done years of meditation, who practise various forms of yoga, and so on. A few of these are very advanced, but the majority of them are as superficial as any other set of specialists. They know their limited subject, and are satisfied with it. There are ashramas whose spiritual teachers are efficient, capable, assertive and completely autocratic, full of their own sublimated ego. I am telling you all this, not as gossip, but to indicate that I am serious in my search for truth, and that I am capable of discernment. I have attended some of your talks, when time has allowed; and while I have to write for a living, and can't give all my time to the religious life, I am entirely serious about it." If one may ask, what significance do you give to that word `serious'? "I do not trifle with religious matters, and I really want to lead a religious life. I set apart a certain hour of the day to meditate, and I give as much time as I can to deepening my inner life. I am very serious about it." Most people are serious about something, are they not? They are serious about their problems, about the fulfilment of their desires, about their position in society, about their looks, their amusements, their money, and so on. "Why do you compare me with others?" he asked, rather offended. I am not belittling your seriousness, but each one of us is serious where his particular interests are concerned. A vain man is serious in his self-esteem; the powerful are serious about their importance and influence. "But I am sober in my activities, and very earnest in my endeavour to lead a religious life." Does the desire for something make for seriousness? If it does, then practically everyone is serious, from the cunning politician to the most exalted saint. The object of desire may be worldly or otherwise; but everyone is serious who is after something, isn't he? "Surely there is a difference," he replied with some irritation, "between the seriousness of the politician or the moneymaker, and that of a religious man. The seriousness of a religious man has a quality which is wholly different." Has it? What do you mean by a religious man? "The man who is seeking God. The hermit or sannyasi who has renounced the world in order to find God, I would call truly serious. The seriousness of the others, including the artist and the reformer, is in a different category altogether." Is the man who is seeking God really religious? How can he seek God if he does not know Him? And if he knows the God he seeks, what he knows is only what he has been told, or what he has read; or else it is based on his personal experience, which again is shaped by tradition, and by his own desire to find security in another world. "Aren't you being a little too logical?" Surely one must understand the myth-making mechanism of the mind before there can be the experiencing of that which is beyond the measure of the mind. There must be freedom from the known for the unknown to be. The unknown is not to be pursued or sought after. Is he serious who pursues a projection of his own mind, even when that projection is called God? "If you put it that way, none of us are serious." We are serious in pursuing what is pleasant, satisfying. "What's wrong with that?" It's neither right nor wrong, but simply a matter of fact. Is this not what is actually taking place with each one of us? "I can only speak for myself, and I do not think that I am seeking God for my own gratification. I am denying myself many things, which isn't exactly a pleasure." You deny yourself certain things for the sake of a greater satisfaction, don't you? "But to seek God is not a matter of gratification," he insisted. One may see the foolishness of pursuing worldly things, or be frustrated in the effort to achieve them, or be put off by the pain and strife which such achievement involves; and so one's mind turns to otherworldliness, to the pursuit of a joy or a bliss which is called God. In the very process of self-denial is its gratification. After all, you are seeking some form of permanency, aren't you? "We all are; that's the nature of man." So you are not seeking God, or the unknown, that which is above and beyond the transient, beyond strife and sorrow. What you are really seeking is a permanent state of undisturbed satisfaction. "To put it so baldly sounds terrible." But that is the actual fact, is it not? It is in the hope of attaining total gratification that we go from one teacher to another, from one religion to another, from one system to another. About that we are very serious. "Conceded," he said without conviction. Sir, this is not a matter of concession, or of verbal agreement. It is a fact that we are all serious in our search for contentment, deep satisfaction, however much the manner of achieving it may vary. You may discipline yourself in order to acquire power and position in this world, whereas I may rigorously practise certain methods in the hope of attaining a so-called spiritual state, but the motivation in each case is essentially the same. One pursuit may not be as socially harmful as the other, but both of us are seeking gratification, the continuation of that centre which is ever wanting to succeed, to be or become something. "Am I really seeking to be something?" Aren't you? "I don't care about being known as a writer, but I do want the ideas or principles of which I write to be accepted by the important people." Aren't you identifying yourself with those ideas? "I suppose I am. One tends, in spite of oneself, to use ideas as a means to fame." That's just it sir. If we can think simply and directly about it, the situation will be clarified. Most of us are concerned, both outwardly and inwardly, with our own advancement. But to perceive the facts about oneself as they are, and not as one would like them to be, is quite arduous; it demands an unbiased perception, without the recognizing memory of right and wrong. "You are surely not totally condemning ambition, are you?" To examine what is, is neither to condemn nor to justify. Self- fulfilment in any form is obviously the perpetuation of this centre that is striving to be or become something. You may want to become famous through your writing, and I may want to achieve what I call God or reality, which has its own conscious or unconscious benefits. Your pursuit is called worldly, and mine is called religious or spiritual; but apart from the labels is there so very much difference between them? The aim of desire may vary but the underlying motive is the same. Ambition to fulfil, or to become something, has always within it the seed of frustration, fear and sorrow. This self-centred activity is the very nature of egotism, is it not? "Good heavens, you are stripping me of everything: of my vanities, my desire to be famous, even of my drive to put across some worthwhile ideas. What shall I do when all this is gone?" Your question indicates that nothing is gone, doesn't it? No one can take away from you, inwardly, what you don't want to give up. You will continue on your way to fame, which is the way of sorrow, frustration, fear.